#i am imagining like print copies from left to right

[xhxhxhx]

I am not particularly fit for this kind of work. Reading and writing, I mean.

I am not a practiced reader. I never learned to do the things you're supposed to do with books and papers.

I never learned note-taking. Never learned outlining. Never outlined. Never underlined. Never highlighted. Never earmarked. Never made cards and never read from them.

At some point, the amount of information I was meant to digest and recall was simply beyond me. Never learned.

I've carried those vices with me. I have no books marked with my own written notes or highlights. I have no outlines. There's only the printed page with someone else's text.

I still have trouble publishing anything but the first draft.

I have tried something different. I now have something like a vast index, alphabetically arranged, of cases and laws and names, proper and common, with references to the relevant material.

But no notes. I have given pointers and pin points, but no summaries or comments. In the index, my editorial intervention ends with the headings and cross-references. Even that makes me uneasy.

If I haven't learned to take notes, it's not for lack of trying. There are false starts here and there, if not on paper.

The trouble is that I have trouble getting anything out of my notes when I read them. They're verbose. They're wrong. They're inexact. They leave things out.

You can imagine a tradeoff between speed and depth, with less extensive notes summarizing the text and more extensive ones explaining it. But my notes couldn't do either.

I have trouble summarizing or explaining things to myself, to my future self. When I took notes, I left out what I understood too well or not at all. When I read them later, I found them incomplete.

I couldn't learn from my own notes, or recall from them. I couldn't trust them. I couldn't trust my past self to know what I now needed. No matter how much I read and revised, I couldn't get them right.

In the tradeoff between speed and depth, my notes were completely interior to the frontier defined by the original text. To the extent that I have notes now, they're pointers to those texts. Indexes.

That's what I have. Indexes. But indexes aren't notes, and they're poor substitutes for them.

To write, you have to take something from what you've read. That's what notes, I understand, are for: You take notes to preserve your reading for your future self. But not your self as reader, but as writer. They're there for your readers.

Your notes summarize and explain your reading, as you would explain your reading to others. Then you simply carry them forward. "Here," you tell your readers, "I have summarized it for you." Then you write out your notes again, tidied up a little.

I didn't understand any of this until recently. I had never needed to take notes for others before. When people asked for my lecture notes, I gave them what I had taken in class: verbatim transcripts of what the speaker had said. Those were the only ones I had.

I still don't really understand it. But I'm coming to realize how much extensive writing depends on it, or something like it.

To write, you have to take something from what you've read. It's easy to do that from notes. You don't have to read anything and you barely have to write anything. You just copy them down.

But to do it from an index, you have to do it all from scratch. Read again, then summarize and explain, as if for the first time. Because it is. It's the first time you're explaining it for someone besides yourself.

I still haven't learned how to take notes. But I suppose that's what I'm doing here. Trying to explain things, as if for the first time, to someone besides myself.

[quohotos]

I present to you, my Magnum Opus. The Underland Chronicles rendered in the style of an early 2000s flash based point and click adventure game (the MNOG)

I have spent so long on this. Inkscape doesn't log total project time the way Krita does, but it's the most time I've spent on any single piece of vector art. Even then there's still a million things I want to go in and change but... aaaaaa you have to cut it off somewhere. I have been copy pasting rats for hours, and don't even get me started on the shadows. The shadows look good, they are not physically accurate. I tried.

Here are some bonus features!

No text overlay. Clean if you want to print it or make it a desktop background.

Close up on Solovet and Ajax I've never actually drawn Solovet, or any underlanders really. I definitely am phoning it in by framing her from behind. When it came to designing what kind of armor they'd wear I took inspiration from both Greek and Roman designs. Ajax was originally much more saturated red until @paksenarrion-dorthansdotter corrected me. The books describe him as dried blood colored. (please don't look too close at the rats they don't hold up to scrutiny)

Close up on Ripred. He looks just a little bit small and fat in this one, but that's just because he's slouching. When he stands up it all stays in his hips and ass. I always draw Ripred like he appeared on my cover of Code of Claw. The scar on his face isn't really visible from this angle because it cuts left to right and he's looking left.

Lastly, here's Gregor and Ares. There is an official design for his armor as seen on the cover of my copy of Code of Claw. I redesigned it because I thought that version looked kinda pants, tbh. Little goofy and hard to take seriously.

The great thing about vector art is you can zoom in and obsess over tiny little details that end up only being like 4 pixels wide in the final export. Case in point, these rando flyers. Such minute detail that gets flattened out to a single pixel in some cases.

Sidenote: I always imagined the flyers as more microbat inspired, which is why I draw them with tails... but these ones end up looking very flying fox-like and have also some megabat proportions. This isn't really an intentional artistic choice, it's just a compromise I had to strike to make them look decent. I need to practice drawing microbats more.

Oh well. The author isn't that descriptive about their proportions so I guess it's up to interpretation.

Lastly, here's the original sketch that I traced over. A lot of features ultimately got cut, as well as the dimensions to the side being changed. Solovet originally was going to have a braid but then I remembered that line from the first book where Luxa explains that you have to cut your hair to go to war. Ripred also looked a lot more teddy bear like in the sketch, so I ended up not even tracing him. Bane was a redraw, and I actually did trace part of Ajax and then just frehanded the rest.

If anyone is reading this far and hasn't read the underland Chronicles, now is a great time to go to your local library and pick it up. These books slap and this tiny community would love to suffer our brainrot welcome you into our fold.

Fly You High

[yr-obedt-cicero]

hi! ik that we don't know that much about what Hamilton's and Laurens' relationship was like but i was just wondering if we have any stories or if we know how their friendships was viewed by others in the camp? like do we know if they had any inside jokes or things they would do together even as just friends?

Overall, they were noted to have been the closest out of the Aide-de-camps. And many viewed they just had a close tight knit friendship.

McHenry - a fellow aide - once compared them to Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar, who were both leaders of ancient civilizations;

The attack was a resounding victory and the Americans were ecstatic. “As soon as the success of the Am[erican]-arns was ascertained, the Marquis desired Major McHenry to hasten to the redoubt and congratulate Col. Hamilton [and] Laurens in his name” McHenry did. “The first officer he recognized was his friend Col. Laurens—when—embracing him he exclaimed here is Caesar but where is Alexander–He is safe replied Laurens.”

(source — James McHenry, Forgotten Federalist, by Karen E. Robbins)

After Laurens requested Hamilton to remind the family to write to him, interestingly, Hamilton's response letter seems to claim that the military family thought they had a sort of “partnership”;

I have conveyed your reproof to the lads. They have considered me as the secretary of the family and fancied a partnership which did not exist. Writing or not writing to you, you know they love you and sympathise in all that concerns you.

(source — Alexander Hamilton to John Laurens, [September 12, 1780])

It's not clear if Hamilton is referring to partnership as being the “secretary of the family”, or if the aides were referring to his bond with Laurens since he was the one to convey Laurens wished for them to write to him. It could possibly suggest various things; that perhaps the others perceived Hamilton and Laurens to be so close that their friendship was exclusive, and that Hamilton realized that that wasn't the case. Another possibility being that maybe they had caught onto Hamilton's flirtatious mannerisms towards Laurens. Or as others have interpreted it;

This suggests that much of homoeroticism in Hamilton's letter was an imposition. Hamilton was the bastard without family connections from the West Indies and Laurens was the scion of the prominent South Carolina family. In intellect, imagination, vaulting ambition, and lust for derring-do, the two were equal. Is it possible that Hamilton sought to trump Laurens' advantaged upbringing by highlighting the physical attraction they had for each other which if consummated would have invited scandal?

(source)

As for inside jokes and anecdotes, author William Benemann made the humorous suggestion that the suggestive and homoerotic innuendos written in the drill manual that Laurens and Hamilton helped Baron von Steuben compose were intentional;

There was no time to have a drill manual composed and printed, so each day von Steuben would write a portion of the manual in French, and give it to his aide Pierre Duponceau to translate into English. Duponceau would pass the translation on to Laurens and Hamilton to edit into proper military form. The Baron would then commit the new English version to memory, though he could understand very little of the actual words and grammar. The new portions of the manuscript were copied again and again by hand, and the written sheets distributed to each of the fourteen brigade inspectors. Each morning as the men began to follow the new drill procedures, von Steuben was busily at work writing out the next day’s chapter. The drill manual eventually found its way into print, and it remind the official United States military blue book until 1812. To a modern reader the Baron’s instructions have an oddly salacious ring, sounding more like a sex manual than a drill manual:

Bring the right hand briskly, and place it under the cock….Quit the butt with the left hand, and seize the firelock at swell….Bring the left hand down strong upon the butt….Bring the butt of the firelock under the right arm, letting the piece fall down strong on the palm of the left hand, which receives the swell, the muzzle pointed directly to the front, but butt pressed with the arm against the side….

Although it is tempting to read the drill manual as an elaborate homosexual joke devised by von Steuben, Laurens, and Hamilton at the expense of the unwitting military brass, a comparison with other drill manuals of the period reveals that the language is very much in line with what might be expected of the genre. The double entendres that are so striking to a modern ear were probably unheard in the eighteenth century.

(source — Male-Male Intimacy in Early America, by William Benemann)

While Benemann is correct that this vocabulary was nothing particular for drill manuals, the terms and phrases used did have the same meanings as they do today and from the 18th century. So, it is still quite plausible.

Many stories involving Laurens and Hamilton also involve all the other aides as well, so this is not quite exclusive to them particularly — but Hamilton and Laurens, alongside the other aides, used to conversate in the middle of the night;

The abodes they stayed in were frequently too cramped for comfortable living and the aides normally shared rooms, oftentimes beds, if they had beds, and occasionally slept in kitchens, hallways, or, as Timothy Pickering wrote in the summer of 1777, with “the General lodged in a bed and his family on the floor about him.” From Valley Forge in December 1777, Timothy Pickering told his wife that “the General's family. are exceedingly pinched for room.” At West Point in the summer of 1779, Alexander Hamilton remarked, “We are rather straitened in our quarters.” These “straitened” quarters promoted closeness between the aides. Tench Tilghman called their beds “sociable Bunks” because the aides would talk in their sleeping quarters and “hear much... where all is under the secure lock and key of Friendship.” All this, of course, was when they were not on the move and forced to sleep “in the fields, under trees, exposed to the night air and all changes of the weather.” James McHenry summarized, “When I joined his Excellency's suite I gave up soft beds, undisturbed repose, and the habits of ease and indulgence, which reign in some departments, for a single blanket, the hard floor, or the softer sod of the fields.”

(source — Alexander Hamilton: The Formative Years, by Michael E. Newton)

Hope this helps!

[sunmoonjune]

Ive been meaning to ask for a while but what does Bug’s mask look like to you? (Like is it a complete half mask that covers half the nose and mouth or a mask that goes around them like a phantom mask, does it have depth or is it flat, material, etc ) I’ve always been curious what you envision! ♥️

ok ok ignore how sloppy this is, but this is what I had drawn out for reference a few weeks ago (also just a random reference photo for face shape, it has nothing to do with how bug looks! bug is still sort of supposed to be the reader, so their appearance is still based on you! she just has some specific things about her that are defined, like her scars and such) also I apologize if bug ever becomes too much of an oc! that's why I added that oc!reader tag becuase I'm not quite sure if bug is becoming an oc xD

I drew this super quickly because I needed some kind of reference when I was drawing a cover for the printed version of LTM that I have a hard copy of! The cover that I drew is essentially just what's beneath the mask so I needed a reference to what the mask would cover! (I would love to show you that cover but right now it's a BIG SPOILER, so I will withhold it from you for now (also I am a terrible artist so I should probably find an artist friend or commission someone to make a book cover for me))

so the photo above is approximately how big the mask would be and what it would cover!

it would tie behind her head near her forehead so that it wouldn't obscure her left eye (also totally ignore that I drew the mask on the reference model's left side, cause I totally did not do that LMAO I forgot about mirroring xD I am def not an artist hehe )

It's definitely fairly tight against her face, like form-fitted in a way. It's very simple and definitely scuffed up and scratched and such since it's been used for more than a decade.

I've always imagined it to be dark colored, like black or a very dark brown. It's also probably got a leather base since there's not a ton of material bug had access to in her village :(( the leather part probably is against her skin with a layer of hopefully softer cloth that will be against her face so that it doesn't agitate what's underneath.

I also always imagined it to have a tougher shell as an exterior that's scratched and scuffed up, but it sort of acts as armor in a way. after what happened she wanted another layer of protection between that side of her face and the outside world, so the outer layer of her mask is a little tougher, but I can't necessarily say what kind of material since I'm not too sure what she would have access too (I'll have to do a little more research!

it's pretty tightly pressed to her face, because when her tear duct ruptures, the blood pools at the bottom of the mask as it tries to slip between the crack and out of the material ( kind of gruesome I apologize :( ) she often has to replace that inner layer of cloth when it gets soaked with that blood since she doesn't want anymore infections, but she does it in privacy far away from camp (I haven't yet talked about this in the story itself, but it will be coming soon -- in fifteen perhaps >:DD )

and no, the mask doesn't completely cover what she's concealing. I didn't draw them here ( I hide that layer so you couldn't see it quite yet) but her hair sort of obscures the rest of it so it's not easy to see.

[staarri-au]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL — CHP 02, PART3

previous part

contents: light cursing, your first name is KIWO—Y/N is a placeholder for your middle name or last, its your choice, gn!reader (so they/them prns)

CHILDES POV

“My god, Furi. Is it this one?” I say through the call, picking up a random book with an identical title.

Anyone who knows me can already tell I don’t have the patience for this kind of thing. The smell of bookshops are nice—but actually spending hours in this place makes me a bit annoyed.

I mean, you should atleast have a way to get the book you want immediately, right?

“No, no no. This can’t do… Quick, check the fiction area! There still might be a copy in the stands.” Furina panics, I can already imagine her pacing around the hotel room.

“Fine, but this is the last one. If we still can’t find it then i’m sorry—we’ll go tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright, deal. But if its out of stock i’m blaming you.”

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes. I head over to the fiction section, phone still in hand.

“This one?” I flip the camera so she can see it, her voice immediately lights up.

“That! Exactly that one. Get it, I order you!” She squeals.

“Yeah, yeah I already am… Stop screaming, everyone can hear you!”

“Uh—excuse me please.” A voice says, right beside me.

“Oh, yeah sure. Sorry.” I back off immediately, going to the corner of the shelf.

Their hair is covering their face, purposely hiding their identity in a way. I don’t mean to be rude anyway. They steal glances from time to time, as if trying to make sure of something.

I realize that maybe what im wearing might be strange. All denim, ripped cloth, it’s not really their fashion here in Fontaine. Either way, its not that big of a deal. I get stares all the time.

“Thank you,” they whisper and I start to turn the other way. They reach for the fiction isle I was just in. “Have you seen any books on this table by any chance?”

They look at me. For a long time.

It makes me a little nervous.

“Um, yeah. You mean this right?” I show the book in-hand. Furina says something about not giving it away, but I dont listen and hang up the call immediately.

“Yeah. That one.” They say, looking back at the table and realizing there are no other copies left.

“Is this like a popular book or something? Everyone seems to be getting it.” I scan the book for any details why—I mean the cover isnt anything interesting at all. Just a fancy white and gold mask with feathers.

A chill R&B song plays in the shop’s speakers, filling the atmosphere with something playful.

“I mean a newspaper just recently covered it. This is just the collectors edition, so anyone who really liked the book or likes to collect would buy this.” They point at the book. “The unique thing about is that there are only a total of 500 prints. It makes that really rare.”

“So you must really want this, then?”

They nod once more.

“One of my favorite books of all time.”

“I see… Well you know my friend, Furi, she really wants this book and I—I didn’t know you needed this too.” I try to explain, “I mean im just assuming you want to buy it?”

“No, its okay. She can have it, I don’t mind.” They wave their arms, no.

Oh.

“Are you sure? Like, really?” I stutter.

I could just give it to them, I mean Furina wouldn’t mind—we’ll find another copy elsewhere.

“I swear, it’s really okay.”

“Im just, gonna go pay for this then. See you around…” I wait for them to say their name.

“Oh—well my name is Kiwo, or Y/N. I don’t mind which one you use.”

“Okay. See you then, Kiwo.”

I thought about saying my name, but that might just cause a problem for my managers.

So we settle for Kiwo instead.

What a pretty name though, Y/N.

[callsign-bunnie]

Dance Of Hearts - Chapter 3 - Regency AU

It ended up being a few weeks before Miriam needed them. They were dreadfully dull. Koenig had been rather silent, only speaking to offer counsel on a few things here and there, which Horangi found himself increasingly grateful over. After all, Koenig was the same as him, a warrior.

--

Horangi did tell Stiletto that he wished to take a leave and she’d only laughed and told him that that should be fine. “I am curious, Horangi,” she started, “you never take leaves. You’ve dedicated yourself to being a knight… Why now?”

He’d paused and tried to find some excuse. “A woman, another alpha, that I am close to has asked me for a favor, which she has never done before. I can only imagine it is of great importance.”

“Well, King Alejandro has returned. I will ask that you inform Sir O’Conor of your wish to take leave.” Stiletto sighed. “But I should see no reason why he should not allow you. You know how he likes to pretend while he’s around. Must appear on top of things.”

Horangi sighed, since he did know. “Alright.” He nodded and then turned and left, going to the strategy room of the barracks, where Sir O’Conor was known to frequent. As expected, the man was there, looking over a map. “Sir O’Conor,” he bowed as he entered. “I wish to take leave for a few weeks. Possibly longer.”

Sir O’Conor looked up from the map and then sighed. “Can I ask why, Horangi?”

Horangi gave the same reason he gave Stiletto and then sighed. “I have never asked for leave, before.”

“No, no you have not.” Sir O’Conor nodded. “Fine. I suppose I cannot deny the first time you ask leave.” He then waved Horangi out.

Horangi bowed, again, before shaking his head and leaving. Never one to dawdle, he supposed. 

The next day, they were supposed to meet Miriam at her shop, where she would explain how they were to behave and exactly where they were going. He was nervous but also found himself slightly excited. He’d never done mercenary work before, and he was intrigued to see how it would go. 

He walked back to his room and went in, seeing that Koenig was resting on the floor, reading one of Horangi’s books. It appeared to be one in the common tongue, which he supposed made sense.

Until he noticed that Koenig’s eyes were not moving at all, simply staring at the page. Horangi shook his head. “You act like you cannot read.” He joked, going to where his bag rested on his bed, putting his various medicines and remedies in it.

He was surprised not to get a snarky comment back and turned to Koenig, seeing he was dark red. “You can read… right?” 

Koenig huffed. “Many warriors were not taught the ability-”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Horangi rolled his eyes. “You are correct, though King Alejandro insists his knights are educated. Many Drodorian and Artemean knights cannot read.”

“I can read… a little. This one is hard to.” Koenig finally admitted and so Horangi went over to him, dropping down and taking the book from it.

Horangi inspected over it before sighing and shaking his head. “Because you have chosen one which was written in too small of lettering. Likely the spell caster chose to be pretentious and difficult on purpose.”

“Spell… caster?” Koenig looked at Horangi. 

Horangi smiled. “Have you seen how books are made?”

Koenig shook his head, his expression earnest. So, Horangi sighed and got up,  getting his blank journal and a quill. “This is how we write in journals, correct?”

Koenig nodded and Horangi smiled. “Book makers use enchanted quills that write for them. So, while they are writing, the quills will write in several copies of the book to make many books at once. However, some use scrolls and enchanted magnifying glasses so they do not also have to write the book. When they cast the spell needed to write the book, they may have made the lettering small. It is seen as… educated to be able to read such small print. I have many books with larger print.”

He got into his book chest and got out a book which was much thicker with a larger print. “Better for beginners.” He came over and sat back down, holding out the book to Koenig.

Koenig watched him and then took the book. “Where I am from, reading is an omega’s hobby. You also perform the math of the household.”

Horangi shook his head, amused. “Education is important. Though, I suppose omegas may be more suited for budgeting. If they spend most of their day in the house, they would know how to run it. Now that I think about it, the budget should be the Queen’s duty, here, but I think it’s not customary for him to take it over until a year into his marriage. In case he dies in childbirth.”

“And yet my kingdom is considered barbaric towards omegas.” Koenig made a face.

“I have heard of your Kingdom.” Horangi shook his head. “You treat omegas as if they are less than.”

“Neither omega, nor alpha is less than.” Koenig shook his head. “Neither are more. We just… see omegas and alphas as separate. Different. You bare children, does it not make sense for you to raise them. We are naturally bigger, stronger, surely we belong in the fields, working?”

“ You may be bigger.” Horangi laughed. “But… I do not wish to entertain such arguments. I come from a traditional Kingdom, as well…” He sighed and shook his head. “Deeply traditional. Perhaps more traditional than your Kingdom of Nehelune.”

Koenig watched him. “So you enjoy being in the King’s Guard?”

“I do not hate it. At times… yes, I suppose I would say that I enjoy it.” Horangi nodded, smiling. “I like fighting and my part is more meant for defense rather than offense so I am rarely busy.”

“That does sound enjoyable.” Koenig admitted. He was silent for a moment. “Can I hear more about your life before the King’s guard? I do not think you’ve said a word about it.”

“Yes and I may not ever.” Horangi huffed, slightly, and shook his head. “No you may not.” He stood and returned to putting things in his bag, angry at Koenig for even asking. He did not wish to speak of it.

“Kätzchen…” Koenig’s tone was gentle, soft… It only enraged Horangi more and he quickly turned around, glaring deeply at Koenig. “I meant no offense when I asked.”

“And yet you managed it all the same.” Horangi sat on his bed and then looked at his hands. “My past is behind me.”

“And that means you cannot remember it?” Koenig asked, not even flinching at the glare Horangi gave him. “What could be so bad that you do not want to remember?”

“You have a very sheltered view.” Horangi shook his head, trying not to be more irritated at the shrug Koenig gave him in response. He sighed and considered. Maybe he could… tell Koenig. Who could Koenig tell, anyway? None of the other Knight’s even acknowledged his presence. “It is a horrid story. Not happy.”

“I don’t think people refuse to tell happy stories.”

“I have half a mind to knock your head off.” Horangi huffed. He hesitated before moving back down to the floor, next to Koenig. “Fine. I will tell you. But only so you will not ask again.”

Koenig laughed, softly. “Only.”

“Fine, I will not tell you.” Horangi went to move away but he was stopped by Koenig.

“I am sorry, Kätzchen. Please tell me.” Koenig shook his head, touching his arm. “I would like to hear.”

Horangi sighed and relaxed. “Alright. To start, my father was a lord. Not… a particularly great Lord but he was a Lord. In fact, he was lord over a border village, so we never wanted for money. My mother died in childbirth of my younger sibling, who died when he was two years old. So, my father was very protective of me.”

Koenig frowned. “You had a very tragic beginning.”

“And a tragic middle. I pray I do not have a tragic end.” Horangi murmured. “However, I became well known as quite the beauty… I was slender and supposedly had curious eyes, like a cat. As such, I was often called cat in my language… Several variations. My real name is Kim Hong-Jin, but… I’ve never been called that, even by my people.

I was kind, too, or… I tried to be. My mother asked me to be kind before she died and I… I did my best to be kind. To everyone. When… my kingdom fell into war and the warriors came to the village, I was kind to them, even when they said horrible things about me. But, then soldiers from our neighboring kingdom came…

It happened barely in one night. I hardly spoke their language, but we were dragged from our beds in the night. I remember them laughing as my maid cried for me, ‘Kitty,’ she cried, ‘you must flee…’ 

They had blinded her, so she didn’t see that I was already in one of their grasps. They took us out to our courtyard, even the staff, and they… did horrible things. Things I’m not willing to even speak of… to our staff. 

Then they took my father and they stripped him of his clothing and beat him to death in front of me. The one who was in charge… I’ll never forget his face, even if I do not know his name… He had dark features, and a scar across his right eye. I see it, in my dreams, when I would rather not remember. 

He planned to beat me to death, too, but… They decided that I was more valuable than that. So, they took me as a war spoil. But, only after taking his blade and slicing me while taunting me. Horangi, they called me, when they were done. 

I was brought before their king after being forced to travel by foot, being dragged behind their horses. He made me a consort, a third wife. Or, tried to. The King of my Kingdom had him put to death the night of our wedding. 

I expected to be freed and rescued but… there was poison in my own cup as well. I fled, traveling north until I made it to this continent and then traveled even further north until I made it to Aela. I was… 14.”

Horangi sighed and then furrowed his brows. It was odd, to put the story out there. To have someone know. He looked over, seeing Koenig was watching him. He didn’t like the intensity in his eyes. “Do not stare at me in that way.”

“How else am I supposed to stare at you?” Koenig frowned. “I do not think you wish to be perceived.”

“Perhaps not.” Horangi huffed. “Not when you stare at me with pity.”

“It is not pity, Kätzchen, I promise.” Koenig shook his head. “It is awe. You truly are a terrifying omega. You went through that and you survived.”

Horangi snorted. “You do what is necessary to survive.” He murmured and looked down at his hands. “If I ever see him again, I will give him a slow and painful death.”

“As is your right.” Koenig nodded. “If I am with you, I will help you.”

Horangi smiled. “Thank you.” He chuckled and then sighed. “We should sleep soon. We will have a long day tomorrow.”

Koenig nodded. “You are right.” He murmured and sighed. “Sleep well, Kätzchen…”

“I will do my best,” Horangi murmured as he stood and went to his bed, finishing packing their bags before setting them down and laying, doing his best to fall asleep.

-

They met with Miriam the next afternoon after a quick lunch. She was already preparing an open cart and Horangi put their bags into the back. “Where are we going?” He asked when he went to her, ignoring Koenig immediately going to the horses and talking to them.

Miriam did not ignore it, raising an eyebrow, but she turned to Horangi and sighed. “Well, our plans have changed, slightly. We’re going to… Drodora. To pick up someone.”

Horangi furrowed his brows. “Who?”

“Someone important to the king. But… he doesn’t wish for his guards to know.” Miriam shook her head. “They’re a secret.”

Horangi blinked and then rolled his eyes. “We’re transporting his mistress?”

“Sort of.” Miriam laughed. “No. Even more important than that. We’re transporting his nephew.”

“Prince Lucas?!” Koenig exclaimed, coming over. “No, no. Prince Lucas is a myth. He died with the rest of his family to the illness.”

“You… know of this nephew?” Horangi frowned and furrowed his brows. He had not heard of this myth. Though, he had not grown up in this kingdom.

Miriam sighed. “He’s not a myth. And he’s going to be married to the King of Laupin. Quietly. King Alejandro wants him transported from Drodora to the Red Kingdom, but he wants it done silently or… Well, there are worries that the Prince will be assassinated.”

“Can you please explain this myth to me?!” Horangi exclaimed, irritated. He didn’t like feeling left out. “I didn’t even know King Alejandro had living relatives.”

“He’s not supposed to.” Koenig’s voice was closer to a growl. “Prince Lucas is a myth. You’re having us transport a myth.”

“Maybe. But, that myth is paying us 3000 gold.” Miriam sighed. “Would you like to explain this myth to Horangi? Since you know so much about it.”

Koenig shook his head. “King Alejandro had two older brothers. Marcus and Damian. However, he also had a twin brother, Mateo. No one knows why, but the night the twins were born, his oldest brother Heir Marcus and his entire family was said to die of an illness. On King Alejandro’s first birthday, Duke Damian died as well of the same illness. No one but the twins’ parents and the twins were said to survive this illness. Except…”

“Heir Marcus’s oldest son.” Miriam continued. “He was said to be raised with King Alejandro, but he presented as an omega, so Alejandro took the throne.”

“And what about Mateo?” Horangi frowned, raising an eyebrow. “Why did he not inherit the throne?”

“Aela… blessed King Alejandro. Not Mateo. In this case, he cannot inherit the throne unless every member of the bloodline is dead.” Miriam explained and sighed. “That’s…”

“This Prince Lucas?” Horangi guessed. “So, if Prince Lucas is dead, then all Mateo has to do is kill King Alejandro. But, wait- Queen Rodolfo is with child?”

“That’s why King Alejandro is taking the risk and allowing Prince Lucas to be married off.” Miriam nodded. “To King Phillip of Laupin. It will also put Prince Lucas out of harm’s way because then Prince Lucas can never be Queen, due to our laws.”

“This is assuming Prince Lucas is real, that is.” Koenig shook his head. “That is the myth that he’s alive. He’s never been seen-”

“You’re from Nehelune, correct?” Miriam asked, sighing when Koenig nodded. “Then, with all due respect, you wouldn’t know. He’s been hidden in Drodora, disguised as a Lord’s son and close to King John Price. We’re going to pick him up and bring him back. Once we have him, he will pretend to be my other nephew, meant to be married in the Red Kingdom. You are his brother… You���ve both been adopted. And Koenig is your husband.”

“Wonderful.” Horangi sighed. “Wait, did you say 3000 gold?”

“Yes. I was thinking of paying you 900 gold.” Miriam shrugged and Horangi laughed, loudly.

“Oh, fuck no!” Horangi shook his head. “1500.”

Miriam laughed back. “Half?? No. You’re a glorified body guard.”

“Well, Koenig, I suppose we will be finding a new tailor.” Horangi gestured for Koenig and himself to leave, shaking his head. Koenig seemed to hesitate before nodding, moving closer to him.

“Fine! 1000.” Miriam huffed. “You greedy bastard.”

“No. 1400.” Horangi crossed his arms, snorting softly. Poor Koenig looked confused, glancing between them.

“1250 and I’ll pay for everything on the trip.” Miriam glared at him, her glare deeper than Horangi remembered his own father being capable of.

“1350 and I won’t tell King Alejandro that you’re telling one of his knights about the plan.” Horangi shrugged before glaring back just as hard.

Miriam continued to glare at him, going silent. Koenig spoke up, sounding very hesitant. “Am I still getting clothes out of this?”

Miriam sighed and her shoulders dropped. “Fine. 1350. You’ll still get the clothes and I’ll still pay for everything on this trip.” She shook her head. “Only because I’m desperate.”

“Perfect! Let’s get on the road.” Horangi laughed, grinning.

--

Yeah, I know this is out of order, sue me

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

@the-pluto-828 @lieutenant-storm @captainsimcoe @del79jji @bearbait-adventures @the-snarky-dragon @thegodofsleep

[7r0773r]

The Autobiography of Malcolm X as Told to Alex Haley

Any person who claims to have deep feeling for other human beings should think a long, long time before he votes to have other men kept behind bars—caged. I am not saying there shouldn’t be prisons, but there shouldn’t be bars. Behind bars, a man never reforms. He will never forget. He never will get completely over the memory of the bars. (p. 155)

***

I saw that the best thing I could do was get hold of a dictionary to study, to learn some words. I was lucky enough to reason also that I should try to improve my penmanship. It was sad. I couldn't even write in a straight line. It was both ideas together that moved me to request a dictionary along with some tablets and pencils from the Norfolk Prison Colony school.

I spent two days just riffling uncertainly through the dictionary's pages. I'd never realized so many words existed! I didn't know which words I needed to learn. Finally, just to start some kind of action, I began copying.

In my slow, painstaking, ragged handwriting, I copied into my tablet everything printed on that first page, down to the punctuation marks.

I believe it took me a day. Then, aloud, I read back, to myself, everything I'd written on the tablet. Over and over, aloud, to myself, I read my own handwriting.

I woke up the next morning, thinking about those words—immensely proud to realize that not only had I written so much at one time, but I'd written words that I never knew were in the world. Moreover, with a little effort, I also could remember what many of these words meant. I reviewed the words whose meanings I didn't remember. Funny thing, from the dictionary first page right now, that "aardvark" springs to my mind. The dictionary had a picture of it, a long-tailed, long-eared, burrowing African mammal, which lives off termites caught by sticking out its tongue as an anteater does for ants.

I was so fascinated that I went on—I copied the dictionary's next page. And the same experience came when I studied that. With every succeeding page, I also learned of people and places and events from history. Actually the dictionary is like a miniature encyclopedia. Finally the dictionary's A section had filled a whole tablet—and I went on into the B's. That was the way I started copying what eventually became the entire dictionary. It went a lot faster after so much practice helped me to pick up handwriting speed. Between what I wrote in my tablet, and writing letters, during the rest of my time in prison I would guess I wrote a million words.

I suppose it was inevitable that as my word-base broadened, I could for the first time pick up a book and read and now begin to understand what the book was saying. Anyone who has read a great deal can imagine the new world that opened. Let me tell you something: from then until I left that prison, in every free moment I had, if I was not reading in the library, I was reading on my bunk. You couldn't have gotten me out of books with a wedge. Between Mr. Muhammad's teachings, my correspondence, my visitors—usually Ella and Reginald—and my reading of books, months passed without my even thinking about being imprisoned. In fact, up to then, I never had been so truly free in my life. (pp. 175-76)

***

I told the Englishman that my alma mater was books, a good library. Every time I catch a plane, I have with me a book that I want to read—and that's a lot of books these days. If I weren't out here every day battling the white man, I could spend the rest of my life reading, just satisfying my curiosity—because you can hardly mention anything I'm not curious about. I don't think anybody ever got more out of going to prison than I did. In fact, prison enabled me to study far more intensively than I would have if my life had gone differently and I had attended some college. I imagine that one of the biggest troubles with colleges is there are too many distractions, too much panty-raiding, fraternities, and boola-boola and all of that. Where else but in a prison could I have attacked my ignorance by being able to study intensely sometimes as much as fifteen hours a day? (p. 183)

***

That morning was when I first began to reappraise the "white man." It was when I first began to perceive that "white man," as commonly used, means complexion only secondarily; primarily it described attitudes and actions. In America, "white man" meant specific attitudes and actions toward the black man, and toward all other non-white men. But in the Muslim world, I had seen that men with white complexions were more genuinely brotherly than anyone else had ever been.

That morning was the start of a radical alteration in my whole outlook about "white" men. (p. 340)

***

My thinking had been opened up wide in Mecca. In the long letters I wrote to friends, I tried to convey to them my new insights into the American black man's struggle and his problems, as well as the depths of my search for truth and justice.

"I've had enough of someone else's propaganda," I had written to these friends. "I'm for truth, no matter who tells it. I'm for justice, no matter who it is for or against. I'm a human being first and foremost, and as such I'm for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole." (p. 373)

***

I am in agreement one hundred per cent with those racists who say that no government laws ever can force brotherhood. The only true world solution today is governments guided by true religion—of the spirit. Here in race-torn America, I am convinced that the Islam religion is desperately needed, particularly by the American black man. The black man needs to reflect that he has been America's most fervent Christian—and where has it gotten him? In fact, in the white man's hands, in the white man's interpretation . . . where has Christianity brought this world?

It has brought the non-white two-thirds of the human population to rebellion. Two-thirds of the human population today is telling the one-third minority white man, "Get out!" And the white man is leaving. And as he leaves, we see the non-white peoples returning in a rush to their original religions, which had been labeled "pagan" by the conquering white man. Only one religion—Islam—had the power to stand and fight the white man's Christianity for a thousand years! Only Islam could keep white Christianity at bay. (p. 376)

***

Anyway, now, each day I live as if I am already dead, and I tell you what I would like for you to do. When I am dead—I say 4 that way because from the things I know, I do not expect to live long enough to read this book in its finished form—I want you to just watch and see if I'm not right in what I say: that the white man, in his press, is going to identify me with "hate."

He will make use of me dead, as he has made use of me alive, as a convenient symbol of "hatred"—and that will help him to escape facing the truth that all I have been doing is holding up a mirror to reflect, to show, the history of unspeakable crimes that his race has committed against my race.

You watch. I will be labeled as, at best, an "irresponsible" black man. I have always felt about this accusation that the black "leader" whom white men consider to be "responsible" is invariably the black "leader' who never gets any results. You only get action as a black man if you are regarded by the white man as "irresponsible." In fact, this much I had learned when I was just a little boy. And since I have been some kind of a "leader" of black people here in the racist society of America, I have been more reassured each time the white man resisted me, or attacked me harder—because each time made me more certain that I was on the right track in the American black man's best interests. The racist white man's opposition automatically made me know that I did offer the black man something worthwhile.

Yes, I have cherished my "demagogue" role. I know that societies often have killed the people who have helped to change those societies. And if I can die having brought any light, having exposed any meaningful truth that will help to destroy the racist cancer that is malignant in the body of America—then, all of the credit is due to Allah. Only the mistakes have been mine. (pp. 388-89)

[boricuaesthetic]

Hello everyone

I am Nour from Gaza

.I need your help if you can

Please donate to save my life and the lives of my children

I'm asking for a small donation of $25 from each person. $35 will save my children from death and help me cover expenses and rebuild.

Through the link (please see my CV) https://www.gofundme.com/f/donate-to-help-nour-and-his-family-escape-the-war-in-gaza

My account has been verified by @90-ghost

Hello Nour, I'm very sorry but I cannot donate right now, I have made this poster to spread the word about your situation which I will print copies of to put up. I also encourage any one who sees this post to do the same. I hope this will help you reach your goal

(this fundraiser has been vetted by @90-/ghost, Nour is on tiktok as noor.resh also)

TRANSCRIPT:

Hello, I write to you as a human being who has experienced fear and loss in their life, as we all have. However, many of us cannot imagine what families caught in war and genocide experience every day.

In Gaza, residential buildings and even tents are bombed day and night. Many aid organizations, hospitals, and schools are targeted as it becomes more clear that THERE IS NO SAFE PLACE LEFT IN GAZA!

As the parents of two young children, Nouredinne and Dina only want them to lead long and healthy lives, something impossible in the face of fierce bombardment by governments that seek to drag out suffering with famine and disease, for those who can avoid the force of more bombs concentrated on one city over the last ten months than any attack in history. Please donate to help this family escape to Egypt, where they will be able to begin to heal from the pain caused by Israel’s destruction of their home.

Nour says in the fundraiser, “It is difficult for me to find the words to describe what we face every day in Gaza. No food, no medicine, no clean drinking water, oppression, helplessness, psychological pressures, doubts, and daily trauma due to the loss of loved ones. In Gaza, it's not just hunger and fear; Rather, it means actual death.” 

END TRANSCRIPT

the poster also includes a picture of a dove, their daughter Alma, their son Loai, and a qr code and plain text link. Please share as much as you can, make posters like this that work in black and white or with parts obscured, and donate to vetted campaigns!!!

[batgirlgeek]

Funko Pop Collection

So I got this ask a while back from a mutual (aka @blackcat2907) and I mentioned in the tags that I could show off my funko pops so here I am! I started collecting them in middle school. They’re probably a money waster and will most likely be thrown away by future descendants but I like them🥰

I tried to get them all pictured together since they’re all scattered about my room but that didn’t happen bc I either misplaced some or they weren’t standing right (bc as we all know, Funkos can be finicky with if they want to stand properly on a given day).

My Harlequin Batman/Alfred Hitchcock/Darla/Lock/Mr. Rogers are usually on a shelf together since I don’t know where to put them and I’m not sure where most of them came from. I imagine Lock was purchased around the time when I was making my descendants fics (one of them featured Lock, Shock and Barrel’s Children) but idk for sure😅

From back -> front/left -> right we have:

Carmen Sandiego (she was my first)

Drowned Batman/-11 Batman (I haven’t actually read Death Metal but I really like the aesthetic of that AU Batman😅)

Regular Batman

Harlequin Batman

Darla from Shazam (I really liked the first live action—and the second—and I thought Darla was sweet❣️)

Alfred Hitchcock

Lock (nightmare before Christmas)

Mr. Rogers (I think I bought this when I saw the Tom Hanks’ biopic)

Eric + Ariel (I keep them with my fairytale retellings. I’m hoping to get a Cinderella figure at some point since

Batgirl

Pride month Robin (I usually buy my Funkos from retailers or Amazon but this one I got from funko’s official store since it came out during June last year shortly after Tim came out)

A bonus Dorian from D&D: Honor Among Thieves:

I enjoyed that movie a lot and I have a soft spot for tieflings so when I saw Hot Topic had the movie Funkos, I snagged her. I nearly forgot to include her since she’s usually sitting on a corner bookshelf behind my chair/desk. Since D&D is a roleplaying game, I’ve kept her with my game disks/switch & DS cartridges

The bombshells collection:

Left -> right:

Hawk girl

Supergirl

Batwoman

Poison Ivy

Catwoman

I’ve been trying to collect DC’s Bombshells line because I just love their 40s aesthetic a lot—I’d like to get the comic series also but I’m currently on a book buying ban to curb my physical TBR (there’s 58 books left if my Storygraph’s count is right).

And finally, my minis:

My mom got me this DC funko advent calendar for Christmas last year and it was very fun opening them all up since it gave me something to look forward to every day. Unfortunately, a lot of them were duds as there were so many duplicates (I suspect the company just retooled actual Funkos and didn’t bother to make new ones lol). Also the flash ones don’t stand unless they’re leaning against another mini. But I still think they’re cute so they’re displayed on their own shelf :)

I’ve never officially counted all my Funkos before but in total (excluding my advent calendar minis) we have 18. There’s a lot more I’d love to buy (including a Huntress funko) but at the moment all I can do is stare wistfully at an Amazon wishlist and I’m okay with that for now😅

(I’m sorry this took awhile BTW. I could lie and say I was busy but I really got sucked into the tv series White Collar of all things. It’s good, I’m on s4 <3)

By the way,, before you leave: if anybody is reading this and is collecting the deluxe editions of these dragon age books or knows where I can get copies for a reasonable price, I would appreciate it. They are very hard to find now since they’re technically out of print I think. I’m missing The Calling, The Stolen Throne and Last Flight. Might have to cave and buy them in their original editions which would be a shame bc I think these copies are gorgeous and have incredible art😅

[sk3tch404]

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLA9lTFTzBoiEsLV51XJhYEfcJtfMj4bsJ

^^I think those were my main ones but Ofc there's probably ones that I missed due to missing childhood memories 😔

And YEHEHEHEA BOIII THISE 7MIN IN HEAVEN QUIZZES- istg id always get Eyeless Jack every time and if I didn't get him, I'd retake the quiz until I did 💀💀 and yeah he was my "main boyfriend" during my creepypasta phase and the funny thing is, I'm not sure if it even was because of his personality, I think it was just because he wore a BLUE mask.

Now lil funfact about me, when I was little, I was FUCKING O B S E S S E D WITH THE COLOUR BLUE. Always wanted to wear blue clothes, eat blue food, drink blue drinks (there was this one energy drink with a blue color that tasted absolutely awful, I still pestered my family members to buy it for me, even though I didn't like drinking it at all 🥲) I wanted EVERYTHING in blue—

So yeah, I held a questionable "love" for Mr.Kidney Eater lmfao. Also like, I left the CP before like, Bloody Painter and the others newer ones were made, so when I revisited it a while back I was like "who tf is this guy" and speaking of what changed after I left, I remember that EJs OG backstories was smth along the lines of "his father was a doctor, some shit happened, his father poked his eyes with like a Fireplace poker thingie and THATS why he got em black goo leaky eyes" and he was just Some Dude™ but that's also changed, I was so confused when they addressed him as a Demonic Creature like 👁👄👁 where'd my lil silly man go? (Not that I miss it THAT much but going from hahaha doctor twink with scalpel to an actual Threat™ was pretty jarring) there was also the gratification of getting The Smart One as a kid, like yeah I'm Not Like Other Girls I get the cool one, not JEFF. Oh, the Hipster/Internalised Misogyny Mindset my detested 💀

Speaking of old!Fanon, remember when they made Hoodie&Masky obsessed with cheesecake? And the reason WHY they made them obsessed with turned out to be pretty scummy actually? Big oof, big oof 💀

And OMFG THE PUBLISHED JEFF FANFIC AINT NO WAY— its honestly kinda impressive if you really think about it ngl imagine being able to sell physical copies of your fanfics without having it being just you printing out every pane in A4 format 🤔 it's just kinda unfortunate that the fanfics that DO get published are all kind of,,, crap (cough cough After cough 50 shades cough cough) like no flake on the authors (mostly) because good for them for being able to make money off smth they love doing (at least I think they do) but holy fuck what I would give if they actually published the good fanfics :,)

-Ren'py anon

YOU’LL NEVER TAKE US ALIIIVEEEEE

that’s the first one that was on there lol

GOD I LOVED KESHA HER MUSIC WAS TOP TIER 

Lovely choices of nostalgia :D

LMFAO THAT’S A VALID REASON FOR WHY U WERE SO OBESSED WITH HIM. HOT MYSTERY MAN WITH MASK THAT IS ALSO A KILLER  😍😍😍 YUPPPPP THATS A KEEPER

And yeah no I can totally understand why you were so obsessed with blue! As kids, we literally have no idea of self identity and struggle with making a person out of ourselves. A lot of us grab ahold of one thing and try to stick with it, even when we don’t like it. I used to try so hard to be a tomboy. I hated pink, I didn’t like wearing skirts, I didn’t like makeup saying that I ‘liked being more natural’’, I wore an absurd amount of ugly male sweatshirts, T-shirts, and skinny jeans from Aeropostale, and most of all, I hated on other girls for being LITTLE GIRLS???

That got really deep oops, but yeah, most logical and relatable thing ever am I right 😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣😂🤣🤣🤣🤣😂 /hj

I’ve never looked into EJ’s backstory, all I knew is that he was hot, ate kidneys, and had goo for eyes. BUT OH MY GOD WHAT. WHY ARE CREEPYPASTA PARENTS ACTUALLY MONSTERS??? Probably because 11-18 year olds were sharing and altering the stories during the early 2010′s and whatever. Anyway, A FIREPLACE POKER INTO EJ’s EYES??? THAT IS SO BRUTAL HOLY SHIT. It’s so funny how you’re all like, “Oh shit man that’s crazy. Anyway, where’s my funky little cannibal? ^^”

I hate it when people change stories to smth paranormal or demonic. Like, I have little to no issues with it, but GOD DAMN do they butcher tf out of the genre. 

Ah yes, that I”M DIFFERENT FROM OTHER GIRLS AND DON’T CARE ABOUT STUPID THINGS LIKE SELF CARE AND ESTEEM. No I could NEVER act like a decent person who doesn’t argue over every little thing 🙄🙄🙄 

Yes yes yes YES, that whole Hoody and Masky thing was actually really cruel. I thought they just really loved cheesecake just like how Toby really liked waffles. Turns out, the entire Marble Hornets fandom made fun of the figure/weight of the actor who played Masky. Saying he should, ‘lay off the cheescake’. 

That was so messed up man. I know it was early internet banter, but god damn that was just straight up brutal.

Yeah, I was shocked too. How could something THAT bad be published with STOLEN cover art? 😭 The story was shitty as all bad Wattpad fanfics are. If people actually published the good fanfics, the world would go CRAZY. 

AN X READER FANFIC THAT IS GOOD? IMPOSSIBLE! BURN THE DIFFERENT KIND OF WRITING AND REJECT IT IN THE NAME OF GENERAL SOCIETY!!!

Unfortunately, 50 shades of grey had that fame despite it’s.... interesting contents. Some people love it, most people despise it now over the years.

It is such a shame that doesn’t happen more often though. It is quite embarrassing to say you read fanfiction, but it shouldn’t be so condemned and tossed away for it’s notoriety with the bad ones that got around.

[canycn]

— collage boyfriend timothée

summary: in which two students in the same uni course somehow end up being friends. which can never simply be left at that. (500 words)

warnings: fluff, UNEDITED, alcohol

authours note: no, i am not in collage nor have i ever had a boyfriend for longer than 3 weeks but i felt oddly qualified to write this. hope u love! timothée is not famous in this! if you chose to imagine him getting famous later, that's your choice but fame isn't really mentioned! wholesome reg people shit!

okokok so you met in like a western civilizations lecture in first year

timothée came in, looking like he hadn't slept for a second, sat in the empty seat beside you, proceeded to chug an extra large coffee but crash immediately after

so he's just sleeping. right there. in the middle of the large and dim lecture hall.

and he's not your friend, nor have you ever engaged in a conversation

but hey, you're not an ass and this kids clearly tired so instead of waking him up you print out two copies of the notes

and once he wakes up at the end of the lecture you give it to him

he thanks you, obviously, but feels kinda shitty you felt obligated to do that

which you reassured was no problem, and that you really didn't mind at all

he never caught your name before you left :( sad boi

he's also very embarrassed because you're really pretty and smart. did he snore??? or drool????

he never really noticed how much your paths crossed until after then

you work at the cafe he goes to most mornings, he works at the bookstore you often come to in the evenings

he thinks he's slick but the boy finds stupid little ways to see you. he won't admit it, but come on,

you know there's no way in hell he actually consumes the amount of coffee he buys from you in a day

anyways you slowly become better friends over time in dumb n small ways

like once the professor went on a long ass ramble about some boring topic you didn't care about so you opened another tab on your laptop to netflix, and gave him an earbud

or when he wrote his phone number on the receipt of a book you bought

so of course you texted but were oddly nervous

"hi" you said

"hi :)" he said

the rest is basically history

you have drawers full of eachothers clothes at the others dorm in case you sleep over

you find yourself picking his sweaters out of that drawer far more than your own closet

he doesn't mind

finds it adorable quite frankly

type to get mad at you for staying up too late when he's literally the one who's waking up wayyyy later in the morning

such a hypocrite

you're technically not supposed to have boys in your dorm but you always manage to find a way ;)

he meets your parents at christmas holidays

they fake shocked expressions for days

but they love him, none the less

going to parties together. most the time you just end up on the patio talking about random shit and sipping on a drink but still

it's one good mf time

hand holding as you walk across campus

likes to listen to you talk about your degree and your future (loves when you talk about him being in said future as though it's a given)

thankful as hell for his own irresponsibility because if he hadn't fell asleep you may have never started talking

studying and giving him a kiss everytime he get a question right

you usually end up cuddling rather than studying anyways

clichéiknowbutidontcareatthispoint

okok i hope everyone enjoyed AHHH

[libraryofloveletters]

so cute fic request. You are Maddie's OBGYN and at every appointment she insists to set you up with Buck, you deny her and finally one say yes just to be quiet and you meet what a great guy Buck is

The Set Up

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and doctors offices, reader wears makeup, alcohol and the consumption of

Category: Straight Up Fluff 

Word Count: 2.6k

Author’s Note: here's a lil late v-day present for y’all :) 

Part 2: Dispatch: Labour in Progress 

----

“How does the baby look ?” Maddie was laid back, her eyes on the monitor. “Perfect, a perfect little baby” you smile at her as you hand her a towel to wipe up the gel. 

“How many copies would you like ?” you turn towards the ultrasound machine. 

“As many as you'd give me” she laughed, pulling her shirt back down. 

“Dad’s working ?” you asked, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah, he’s been trying to get off a day to come with me” she sits up, pulling out her phone. 

Maddie was one of your favourite patients, she was a sweetheart and always happy, regardless of what was happening, you didn't know how she did it. She began showing you a few pictures of the nursery and two guys who were in the picture. The first guy was Chimney, who was the baby’s father and Maddie’s boyfriend, the two of you had met at a previous appointment and the other guy, who you hadn't meant yet but felt like you had, was her brother Evan or Buck, which is what he went by. 

“You know, if you want to just come in one day when he's off work, we can just do a regular check-up just so he can see. It doesn’t have to be anything special for you to come in” 

“You’d do that ?” 

“Of course I would, between me and you, you’re my favourite patient” 

Maddie smiled at you, “so,” she gave you a look, “since I am your favourite patient, would you also go on a date with Buck ?” she asked, you nearly choked on your coffee. Maddie had a habit of trying to set you up with her brother. She did it often but it still caught you off guard each time. You coughed, “Maddie, no.” you laughed, “that would be unprofessional” 

“Oh come on, take a risk y/n. Life goes on and one date won't kill you” 

“Who said I’m looking ?” 

“Please, you are. You can't lie to me” she smiled, you shook your head. “Still a no Maddie” you handed her the copies of the ultrasound. “If you do want to do the ultrasound when he’s home, just give me a call” you smiled at her and she got up. “I will, thank you”

-- 

A few weeks later and Maddie was back in your office. “Good afternoon momma,” you were looking at the files as you walked in, pushing the door shut with your foot. Taking a seat on your little spinny chair, you look up when Maddie says good morning back to you. 

“Oh Chimney, it’s nice to see you” you smile as you shake the gel bottle. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s good to be here” 

You hand him the gel bottle, he looked at you with brows furrowed. “You’re a paramedic, aren't you ? Go ahead” you chuckle as you turn the ultrasound machine on. “How are you feeling ?” you ask, “good actually, thanks for asking” Chim answers you. 

“I’m glad to hear that but I was asking Maddie” Chim’s mouth forms an O and he nods, Maddie smiles at him. “I’m good, baby’s good too. Kicking a lot recently. Especially when I drink orange juice” she chuckled. 

“And still just the one cup of coffee ?”

“Yeah, he won’t let me have anymore” she groans 

“Good, as he should be. You’re lucky I agreed to the one cup Maddie, you know I rather if you didn’t” 

“Ugh,” she groaned and rolled her eyes, “not you too” 

“I’m your doctor, it's my job to remind you unfortunately” 

Maddie sighs and rolls her eyes once again. You get what she meant, you couldn’t be pregnant and not have coffee, pregnancy is exhausting as it is, imagine it without coffee. “you know how to use an ultrasound machine right ?” you look over at Chimney, who was looking rather confused. 

”I do, why ?” 

“Would you like to do it ?” 

“Really ?” 

“Yeah, I let the dads have a chance to do it sometime. Makes them feel a little more involved” 

“I'd love too” 

You hand him the wand and step back, you watch as he rolls it across her belly. It was always sweet when the fathers came to the appointment, even more so when they're involved. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yes Maddie?” 

“Will you go on a date with Buck ?” She smiled sweetly at you, Chim looked at her, half shocked and half confused. 

“If I say yes to one date, will you quit bugging me about it ?” 

“Of course, just one date is all I’m asking for” 

“Does he know you’re setting him up ?” 

“Yeah- well no ? but he won't mind. It's part of my job as his sister” 

“Maddie, I have siblings as well, you don't see me setting them up” 

“Yeah yeah, that’s fine” 

Chim turned to you. “everything looks good doc” 

“Then we’re all done. Just hit print on the machine and you’ll get the pictures” 

Maddie wiped the gel off her stomach. She took a pen from the desk and scribbled a number down before handing the paper to you. “That’s his number, just message him” 

“You’re setting me up and I have to message him too ?” 

“Oh come on, you’ll be fine. Thank you for this and I'll be expecting details at my next appointment!” She gave you a smile before walking out. Chim looked at you, “I’m sorry I didn't know she was going to do that.” You laughed, “it's okay, she’s not the first person to do that. You should catch up with her though, she walks really fast for a pregnant lady” you chuckle, Chim smiled and walked out to find Maddie. You had some time to kill before your next appointment, you looked down at the paper in your hand. 

Do you text or not ? Wouldn't that be creepy ? Like oh hey, I'm your sister’s doctor let's go on a date.

You know what ? 

Screw it, what’s the worst that could happen. 

To Buck: Hey, I'm y/n. Your sister gave me your number, hope this isn't weird. She's been trying to set me up with you for months, thought we’d hit it off haha

God that was so stupid. Why the hell did you put haha ?

From Buck: Hey, it’s cool. She’s weird like that. What’s up ?

Oh shit, he answered. 

To Buck: Just at work, how about you ?

From Buck: Same thing 

Wait what do I say now ? Do you ask him out ? 

From Buck: Hope this isn't too forward of me or anything like that, but maybe you’d wanna grab a drink tonight ? Only if you’re free

Guess you don't have to ask him now 

To Buck: Yeah, that sounds good. Pick a place and let me know ? I’m off at 4 so anytime after that is fine. 

From Buck: I’m off at 6, how about 7 at the bar on Main Street ? 

To Buck: sounds good, see you then 

It was now 3:30 and Maddie was your last patient of the day. There was no harm in leaving now. After putting away your files and replying to a few emails from patients, you headed out. Only one issue you had when you got home was what to wear. 

Well so you thought. 

Taking a shower was the easy part, trying to do your hair and makeup with only 2 hours left, was a bit of a hassle. First disaster of the night was too much mousse in your hair, making it sticky and tacky. Washing it out, you managed to set it the way you like. The powder compact had fallen onto the floor, you hoped it wasn’t broken, turns out hope isn't enough. The other powder you had was far too light for your complexion right now and you decide against makeup for the night. 

Let him meet the bare you, you can wow him next time, if there is a next time. 

Deciding on a simple outfit, a white shirt that fit you nicely and a pair of black pants that went along with it. In your head, it seemed boring but in the mirror, it looked much better. Walking into the kitchen, there was a half drunk glass of wine from the night before.

Stale wine or nervous wreak ? Stale wine it is. 

You down the wine, spilling some onto your shirt. “Are you kidding-” groaning and turning back to the room, you end up changing your entire outfit. A pair of blue jeans and a black top that fit you in all the right places. One more look in the mirror and a hand through your hair, you headed out the door. 

It didn't take you long to arrive at the bar, as you only lived a few minutes off Main Street. You had seen Buck from the countless pictures Maddie had shown you so it didn’t take long to spot in at a table in the corner either. 

“Hey” you walked over, a smile on your face. He stood up, “Hi! you must be y/n” he leaned in for a hug, you mirrored his actions. “I am, it’s nice to meet you” 

The two of you sat across from each other and there was a bottle of beer in front of you. Buck spoke up when he noticed you noticing the bottle, “I ordered for you, I hope that's alright- you can order something else” 

“It’s fine, thank you” you take a sip, not your usual choice in drink but you didn't need to complain either. There was some silence for a while, not uncomfortable but not comfortable either. Anyone that passed by could tell it was a first date, if you could even call it that. 

“How do you know Maddie ?” he asks, you smile at him and take a sip of the beer before answering him. 

“I’m her OB” 

“Her ?” Buck had a confused expression on his face. 

“Her doctor, her obstetrician actually” 

“Oh for baby Buckley” he nodded. 

“Yeah, she's been bugging me about you since we’ve met actually. She’s sweet but she’s persistent” you chuckle and Buck gives you a smile, “that’s my sister” 

The night went by rather quickly, the two of you sharing work stories. Buck told you about the time he worked a full moon and they responded to a call at a yoga class only to have 3 women go into labour simultaneously. 

“It was the full moon I swear! I tried to tell Bobby but he didn't listen to me!” he said, laughing. 

You nodded and laughed too, “no, it’s true. I've had so many full moon babies. I never book off full moons because I know someone is going to go into labour”

“Thank you! Someone gets what I mean!”

You then told him about the time you filled in for your colleague, he told you it was supposed to be a regular birth but turns out it was quadruplets. It was nice to find someone who understood your weird work schedule. The two of you shared stories until the waitress came over to tell you that they’d be closing in a few minutes. It was a little past midnight when she came over, the two of you decided to call it a night and head out together. 

“How are you getting home ?” he asked you, you walked with him over to his Jeep that was parked down the street. “I’ll just walk, I don’t live too far from here” 

“No” he stated while shaking his head 

“No ?” you questioned him, your brows furrowed as you looked at the man in front of you.

“I invited you out, at least let me take you home. It’s late too, it won't be right to let you walk home by yourself” 

“Are you sure ? I don't want you to go out of your way” 

“Oh no it’s cool, c’mon” 

He opened the door for you like the gentlemen he is and then got in after. “Which way my darling ?” he gave you a cheesy smile which made you chuckle. “A left at the next light and the brown building is me” you leaned back in the seat. It was quiet as he drove down the street, you looked over at him and admired him. From the way his hand rested on his wheel to the little smile on his face, even to the birthmark above his eye. 

“It's rude to stare” 

“Can't help myself, you're pretty” 

Oh shit, did you just-

Buck looked over at you, a wicked little smile on his face. “You think I’m pretty ?” 

You could feel the blush on your face, “uh- well- um I guess ?” 

“I think you more than guess that but whatever you say” he smiled 

Buck pulled into the building parking lot, he stopped and his head hit the seat as he leant back. Looking over at you, “let me walk you up ?” 

“You’ve already done enough, it's fine” 

“It’s fine. Come on” he got out, you mirrored his actions. Buck followed behind you as the two of you made your way up to your apartment. Unlocking the door, you stepped in and he stood by the door. 

“Do you want to come in ?” setting your keys on the counter, you look back at the man who was leaning against the doorframe. 

“I’d love too but I've got the first shift. Maybe another time ?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine” walking back over to him, you stood in front of him. Even with him leaning, he still towered over you. 

“I had a nice time tonight” you say, he nods. “I did too. Maybe we can do this again sometime ?” 

“I'd like that” 

“Okay.” he smiles, “well, good night then y/n” 

“Good night Buck” standing on your toes, you go to kiss his cheek but it seems he had the same idea, both of you turning your heads at the same time and your lips were on his. Buck’s hand cupped your face for the few moments your lips were on his. When you pulled away, Buck had a slight red tint on his face, a blush or simply could have been the heat coming from your apartment, either way you were sure you looked the same way. 

“How does Saturday sound ? Noon for lunch if you’re free ?” he breaks the silence.

"Saturday sounds perfect” 

Buck smiled at you once more, he turned and began walking back to the elevator. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, turning back once again and walked towards your door.  He leaned down and gave you one more kiss. Laughing at the sweetheart that was now smiling at you from the other end of the hallway, you watched as he stepped on the elevator and then shut your door. 

Outside of your building was a happy Buck who skipped his way over to his car, his keys twirling on his finger with a big grin on his face. As he got into his car, he sent his sister a text message. 

To Maddie: You seem to know me better than I think, thank you. 

Upstairs, there was a similar scene, a happy you skipping their way to bed with a smile on their face. As you laid in bed, you too sent a text message to Maddie. 

To Maddie: Your match making efforts have worked, thank you. 

----

taglist: @mrs-dr-reid @ssa-volturi @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @venusrosepetal @mikaelson-emma @beth-winchester21

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Light Novel Review — I'm in Love with the Villainess

A stunningly profound, entertaining, and queer title that eclipses other isekai and Yuri series

There are few titles the general public seems to be as excited about as Inori and Hanagata's I'm in Love with the Villainess, as it has been sitting at or near the top of Amazon's LGBT Manga list for months and Twitter is consistently abuzz with the latest news on this isekai Yuri series. I was somewhat more skeptical, as I have had relatively poor experiences with isekai and fantasy Yuri. Still, my excitement went through the room, and I eagerly boarded the "hype train" upon the cover reveal for the third volume. Yuri families, where two women raise children together, are one of my greatest desires and something I rarely see portrayed in the genre. However, I still had mostly low expectations for the series going into the first volume. I looked forward to some light meandering comedy and typical boring trope-filled isekai shenanigans. However, I'm in Love with the Villainess more than exceeded my expectations. No, even this statement is far too moderate to describe how utterly stunned and blown away I was by Inori's creation. I'm in Love with the Villainess is completely shattering and easily one of the greatest light novels I have ever read. Thus, I have no choice to award a perfect 10/10 score, my first ever for a light novel.

After waking up in the world of her favorite otome game, Revolution, protagonist Rae is ecstatic to be faced to face with Claire Francois, the game's villainous rival. However, Rae never played Revolution for the thrill of romancing any of the three attractive young princes. She was always in love with Claire. She attends the academy and studies magic in the fantasy world alongside Claire, the princes, and various other supporting characters. Using her skills from the modern world and her encyclopedic knowledge of Revolution, Rae manipulates the situation to be close to Claire, becoming her maid, and garnering status and money along the way. As an inevitable conflict looms closer, Rea begins to enact plans to protect herself and Claire, many of which are not fully understood or explained until the finale fantastically reveals the reasons for her actions. There is a natural and steady pace to the narrative that awards readers’  predictions and attention to detail.

I'm in Love with the Villainess has some excellent supporting characters, all of whom have unique personalities, histories, and abilities, some of which are revealed by Rae's exposition and others naturally throughout the novel. However, the stars of the show are the central couple, Rae and Claire. Claire is an elite aristocrat and extremely bratty. She often sneers at commoners and makes her disdain of Rae very clear from early on. On paper, she sounds like the perfect villain and someone all readers would despise. However, Rae's utter devotion and infatuation with Claire is so sincere that we cannot help but be pulled in and adore Claire and all her tantrums. Rae is a delight herself, continually flirting and poking fun at Claire, which gets her verbally berated, much to her masochistic pleasure. However, she is also exceptionally cunning and intelligent, and some of the light novel's greatest joys are listening to her analyze a situation or watching one of her plans fall into place.

“Ah, I’m… Well, it doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s irrelevant to cuteness—because, Miss Claire, you are cute.” “Huh?!” She pulled away. It was perfect—such a pure reaction. “Miss Claire, you hate me, right?” “Of course!” “That’s fine. Please keep teasing me. I love it.”

The beginning of the book does not immediately clue one into its brilliance. Sure, Claire and Rea get some great one-liners as they bully each other, and the scenarios are authentic and fun, but it is nothing shattering. I was feeling pretty relaxed and having a lot of fun with the characters, their relationship, and the various slice-of-life style scenarios they encountered until one section, I remember the exact page, 81, as it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was flabbergasted and briefly frozen before shooting up out of bed, shouting expletives as I ran to my office to immediately record what I had just experienced. It all begins with the line, "Hey, Rae. Are you what they call gay?" What followed was one of the most thoughtful, condensed, informative, and nuanced discussions of gay and queer identity (both terms used in this scene) I have ever seen in Yuri. Everything from representation in media, the perceptions of and prejudices against gay people, and the role gender plays in romance for bisexual and gay people are analyzed. Its commentary is succinct yet so respectful and forthright that it could have only come from genuine experience, thus selling the book and its characters so much more.

"Queer people were still overwhelmingly closeted in this world, which was rife with prejudice and nurtured little understanding. As I noted, the queer people depicted in the story were either the sex fiends Claire imagined or the free-loving sort Lene had in mind. Diversity and acceptance were a long way off.”

Thus, Inori's writing's beauty exposed itself, and the book opened itself up to a delightful cycle. The narrative masterfully integrates isekai slice-of-life hijinks, like running a cross-dressing café or battling a giant slime with nuanced and challenging moments that dissect complicated topics. The latter mainly consists of a growing rift between the aristocracy and common people, mirroring real-world wealth gap issues, but the novel also touch on matters such as unequal prison sentencing and segregation. Every scene helped further the complexity of the characters and their relationships or else built onto the world of Revolution. Speaking of which, I'm in Love with the Villainess has some of the best worldbuilding ever seen in a light novel.

Initially, brief exposition establishes much of the world, which is adequate if not exciting. I will mark up to a casualty of the light novel's serialized nature, as it must present readers its setting immediately. However, Inori does not stop here. Through the narrative, new elements are established, such as a magic system and the kingdom's politics. Rea notes and describes how the world, while clearly based on medieval Europe, has many modern Japanese attributes, as Japanese game developers created it. Her pointing out the intersection of the two is fascinating. Furthermore, A great deal of time is spent establishing characters and organizations all have their own wants, agendas, and methods, many of which are not even directly involved with the story. Instead, they act as a background and help further contextualize others. For example, the Church publicly appears to lean towards supporting the commoners in their efforts for equality but has its own agenda of superseding the nobility. While they play little role in Rea and Claire’s adventure, they are one of numerous factors contributing to the unrest of the lower class. All these additions are interesting, and it never feels like the story or characters suffer for their inclusion, quite the opposite.

“The Bauer Kingdom had started a step behind other countries when it came to magical research. They dominated the surrounding countries in military strength, and this had made them complacent, leading them to underestimate the value of new magic technology until the best researchers had all been enticed to other countries. Even after the king came up with his magic-focused meritocratic policy, Bauer lagged behind.”

I can only make complaints by scraping the very bottom of the barrel. Hanagata's beautiful art is too infrequent to add much to the light novel, and many scenes crying for illustrations are left to the readers' imagination. However, Inori so wonderful writes the story that one hardly cares and can easily picture every moment with delight. Besides, the manga adaption will nullify this issue. Where I cannot complain at all is the spectacular translation by Jenn Yamazaki and Nibedita Sen, one of Seven Seas best (which is high praise considering the competition). Sure, I was slightly disappointed at first to see the adaptation left off honorifics, but the more I thought about the setting, the more sense it made. I am sure people much smarter than I gave the issue much more consideration, and I am happy with their decisions.

I'm in Love with the Villainess left me reeling with how pleasurable and powerful it was. The story and characters are such a joy, and I cannot wait to see Rea and Claire bully each other again in the next volume. Astounding worldbuilding and powerful, thought-provoking politics surround their antics and the high stakes plot. Every moment of their journey will enthrall readers as they squeal with glee at its hilarious set pieces or are shocked by its commentary of society's most significant challenges. Inori has created one of the most delightful, heartfelt, complex, profound, and genuinely queer light novel series ever. If you only read one thing I recommend this year, let it be I'm in Love with the Villainess.

Ratings: Story — 9 Characters — 10 Art — 5 LGBTQ — 10 Sexual Content — 2 Final — 10

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase I’m in Love with the Villainess in digitally (9/23) and in print (11/10) today: https://amzn.to/32NEyG1

Supports creators by purchasing official releases.

[wornoutmouse]

Last one I promise to stop bothering you ahhhhh . Can we plz get a Iida Tenya (pro hero age) smut (I love this guy) like maybe you reader catching him jerking off can you imagine prim and proper tenya doing dirty things? And things get crazy after:) thank you for listening to the rambles of a crazy woman

Your wish is my command

We all know Iida has a big dick right?

And yes i looked up black hairstyles cause i just started doing my own hair leave me alone 🤚🏿

Dubious Consent, blackmail, squirting

Working for the Iida family was honest but harsh work. They strived for professionalism and didn’t allow mistakes, no matter how small. With each member holding a leading title in almost every section of Japan, it was a no-brainer that you would choose to work with them. The only problem was, your socially oblivious boss.

One would think that as the new Ingenium’s sidekick, you would have an insider’s look into his personality and lifestyle, but that was farthest from the truth. For the 2 years that you’ve worked alongside him, you had been kept at a distance and forced mainly to handle the paperwork.

According to him, until he was sure you could handle yourself on the field, you needed to stay away from danger. In hindsight, you would have understood that choice and would have been completely fine with it. However the fact you couldn't m could never learn to handle yourself in the feels if you were never allowed on the feels was a glowing contradiction

Spending time with your boss was informative yet draining. He always set an example of a good business deal and would always explain things you didn’t understand.

The downside however, was his obsession with the non-existent dress code. Since you don’t do any outside work lately, you never put on your hero costume. So i you were always dressed in normal clothes, and every last one of them he had something to critique about.

“Here’s your coffee Mr. Iida.” The bluenette man hummed his appreciation and you turn to sit back at your corner desk.“Miss L/n….”

You tense, preparing yourself as the sound of his chair scraping against the hardwood floors announced his incoming presence. His heavy footsteps loomed closer until he stopped just barely behind you.

Your legs are kicked apart and you find your boss kneeling below you with a measuring tape. “I am appalled, your skirt is 4 centimeters away from the recommended 5 inches above the knee, we do not run a brothel here, please respect the code Miss L/n!”

You sighed, it was best to just go along with his antics. “Yes, Mr. Iida, I’m sorry for my ignorance.” As you bowed you faintly heard a small choking sound and Iida’s hands grabbed your shoulders to raise you back up. “I’ll have none of that bowing, it was a simple mistake.” He pushed up his glasses before stiffly walking back to his desk.

When he came back into view, his face was slightly flushed from what you assumed to be the heat, “I am printing something in the room below, do you mind getting it for me?” You nod and headed out the door. It may have been your imagination but you could have sworn you heard a faint curse word coming from your boss’s mouth.

Reaching the lower room was quick and effortless so you sat and waited for the presumed paperwork Iida was printing. Many of your coworkers passed you with pitying looks that you did your best to ignore. You knew that this life was not one strived for by an aspiring hero but you couldn’t just up and leave.

Your head began to itch slightly. Why is it taking so long to print? While you pondered the situation, you watched a short woman walk up to the copy machine and begin copying her own set of work. You felt your eye twitch, there wasn’t anything even programmed to print.

You stood up and quickly made your way back to your office. Stepping inside, you look blandly at your enclosed room. The memory of your boss's large windowed room flashes through your mind and you decide to work out there instead.

As you walked to the door that connected your office to his, you tilt your head curiously as a loud muffled growl comes from inside. "F-Fuck yes, suck that cock!"

His voice was guttural, and the words were something you would never dream of him saying. But what stuck out to you more was where it was all happening. I know this man ain't screwing at work!!

Without thinking you barge into the room and your jaw drops at the sight.

Sitting in your chair, was your boss, Tenya Iida. His hair was disheveled and his suit was reduced to nothing but his white shirt and open slacks. He was flushed from the neck up and sweat had accumulated in his brow.

Held tightly in his right hand was his dick and it was just as dodged as him. It was also bigger than you imagined

….not that you even imagined it in the first place.

Angry blue eyes dart up to look at you through low hanging bangs and you realised you had been staring. "This is uh… Sorry!" You internally cringe at the fact you stuttered.

As you turn around to leave, you are restricted by Iida's voice. "Stop." Almost as if in a horror movie, you turn back to him slowly and it takes all your willpower not to look down as he had shamefully left his manhood out.

You press yourself against the door as you watched Iida remove his glasses and place them on your desk. "It's rude not to knock Miss L/n." You swallow shallowly when he raises a finger to motion you forward and for a moment you lose all rational as you soon found yourself standing in front of him.

His legs were spread wide open and his dick looked like it was ready to bust any moment. The tip had become an even darker red hue, contrasting ironically with the trimmed layer of dark blue curls nestled at the base.

Despite the situation, the man before you sat looking rather relaxed. He slowly rolled up his sleeves and you caught sight of swirling tattoo sleeves wrapping around each bicep. "Come closer Y/n, I promise not to bite very hard."

He had never used your first name before and that seemed to compel you to move closer, allowing him to use your wrist to place you in-between his legs. "There is a very important rule that I have yet to teach you in the world of business."

The trained look he had focused on you left no room for argument as one of his large hands easily wrapped around your upper thigh. A shiver runs up your spine as his thumb strokes your skin slightly under your skirt. "When one has even an ounce of blackmail against you…"

Iida grabs the front of your blouse and uses it as leverage to tug you to the ground. Down there, fingers gingerly comb through your freshly dyed Nubian Twists, "... you need to blackmail them as well, fair trade and all that."

The grip in your scalp tightens and you feel your eyes slightly water at the sharp sting. The other hand still holding his cock, positions it towards your full lips as a silent order. Salty precum covers your mouth and your tongue darts out to lick it off. The sight was porn worthy.

Before you got too carried away, you decided to see how far you could push him. You bring your hands to softly wrap around his member as you gauged his response. "If I agree to this arrangement, what will I get in return?"

Iida sighed as you licked his dick starting from the balls to just below the top, "What do you want, a raise?" You shake your head and kiss a thick vein traveling along his shaft. "I want to work out there, as your official sidekick."

You could tell his patience was running thin as his hips twitched so you wrapped your mouth around the top, pressing the flat of your tongue against the slit. Iida looked down at you, teeth nibbling roughly on his bottom lip. "Why...ah~ why should I let you work anywhere near me after this!?"

In a bout of anger, you accidently let your teeth drag down the sensitive skin. Iida's eyes roll to the back of his head in such a way that you couldn't pinpoint it as a result of pain or pleasure. "I can easily report your victimizing and unprofessional behavior to HR."

Iida's eyebrows furrowed and he yanked you off of his cock. You stand up shakily before being slammed against his glass table. "You got a lot of nerve, making demands yet you're the reason I was being so unprofessional."

Iida slides down to his knees and raises your skirt over your plump ass. You internally groan as you remember the matching baby blue lingerie you were wearing, that was not going to help your case. Iida slaps your right asscheek nice and hard making you moan softly. "Who is this for?"

You decide to play into it, you sway your hips a little and stick your butt out closer to his face. "It's for me, myself, and I." Iida pulls at your panty strap before letting it snap back. You had to admit it stung. Giving attention to your other cheek, a tan hand takes hold of it and squeezes hard.

"And if I let you work with me, what is my reward?" Iida uses his teeth to pull the fabric of your underwear away from your hidden prize. You hummed as if in thought, "Good karma?"

Lips wrap around your clit and suck hard, "Sorry that's not good enough for me." You grind back on his face and relax on his table more. His hot tongue massaged and prodded your lips and clit, but never got close to being inside of you.

"Working as a pro hero is karma filling in itself, but it is stressful. Not enough time for personal focus."

Iida sucked on two of his fingers before siding them up and down your slit, taking extra time to teasingly delve past your opening before retreating just as fast. You groan, "What do you want me to do, suck your dick under the table on weekends?!"

Iida hums as he joins his mouth along with his fingers. You sigh as his large middle finger finally breaches you and sends soothing sparks throughout your body as it rubs against your walls. The combined stimulation of his hot tongue against your clit, and his even warmer fingers barely grazing against your g-spot had you in pure ecstasy.

"As convenient as that sounds, if someone were to find out we'd be in a lot of trouble." At this point you're bouncing back on his fingers giving Iida a show as your pussy squelches around his fingers. Your mouth hands open in soft pants, fogging up the clear glass below you.

Iida stand up as he continues to finger fuck you in the same rythm as he pumps his cock. "How about dinner and we see how that goes? Let's be professional." You side your clenched fists down your sides as Iida removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick.

You wait in anticipation for him to fuck you but he stands completely still, and you then realise that he was waiting for an answer. "You don't think it's a little too late, dinner comes first you know?!"

As much as Iida loved your banter, his dick was so fucking hard that your joke only agitated him.

Leaning over you, he places one hand on the glass table while the other takes hold of your hair, jerking it back. You hiss as your scalp burns for a moment, but that small pain was replaced with a greater one as teeth sank into your shoulder. "If your going to be sidekick material, that attitude is going to have to be worked on now stop testing me before I fuck it out of you."

You roll your eyes and grind down on his dick making him moan, "Fine sergeant dick, I'll be your little trophy wife, in return let me work for once, I didn't go to school for nothing damnit."

Your hair is released so much quicker than you expected that you almost hit your head on the table. Iida chuckles darkly, "Wife? Trophy slut would be a better word for it." Another harsh smack was delivered to your burning bottom, but he was satisfied after long last.

His hips finally press firmly against you as the full length of him is accepted with your pulsating core.You try to talk through the discomfort, "My ring better be huge after this."

Iida laughed sympathetically as he kissed the dark bruise forming from where he bit you. "The biggest money can buy."

The stretch began to feel pleasurable as his thrusts got faster. As a result of course you could feel yourself getting louder as well. "Faster!" Iida grunted as he held your waist to balance himself. Underneath the sound of the wobbling desk, your low groans are heard as the slapping of skin soon becomes more incessant.

"I've been waiting to fuck this lewd bottom for months! Parading around in all them damn form during outfits!"

The feeling of your bosses cock pumping in and out of you was overwhelming as he was ruthless when it came to chasing his own pleasure. Your legs trembled themselves closed, as you received another harsh slap to your ass. By the time this was over, you were sure you were going to be unable to sit.

On the other end, Iida was deeply pleasured by the sight of your ebony skin shaking from the force of each thrust. That's why it was unsurprising when a high pitched moan that most definitely wasn't yours fills the room.

"Ah, yes, I'm going to cum so deep inside of you, I can right? Pretty please!?" The man was practically whimpering as his cock twitched inside of you. If you were honest, you couldn't even answer as you feel his cum fill your insides. Even so, you felt your toes curl as he kept going.

"Come for me Miss L/n!" The shakiness that seeped from his voice as he fucked himself into an overstimulated mess was adorably pathetic. You do your best to reach in between your legs and stimulate your clit.

As you get closer, your cute hole tightens like a vice around Iida's cock and he finds himself coming again in quick spurts just like before. He was unable to take anymore stimulation and weakly pulled out of you before pumping the fingers in your wet heat. "Come on, cum on my fingers Miss. L/n."

You while loudly as you rub your clit faster and like a large wave, an orgasm crashes down on your body making s clear liquid spew from your cunt, wetting the floor.

[taehyungsgrowl]

Illicit Affairs IV - Duncan Shepherd x Fem!Reader

{gif by @ansonmount}

hey babies! it has been a while! but i have finally gotten enough brain cells to write part four of illicit affairs!

big thank you to @desertsunflower00 for pointing me in the direction i wanted the story to go to after being stuck ily amiga!

also.... this was not the ending i thought i was gonna give when i started writing it but my heart led me to this so

i hope you all enjoy!!! and thank you so much for being so patient!

I've had so so much fun and heartache writing for this story.

please let me know what you think!!!

the first 3 parts are linked here!

Illicit Affairs Part I

Illicit Affairs Part II

Illicit Affairs Part III

word count: 5.9 k

as always! not proofread! italics are for memories!

(also really hope the italics copied correctly from google docs!)

Emma’s head was pounding. With each sob she felt the pain strike her heart.

Duncan was her world. She couldn’t imagine… couldn’t even think of what her life would be like without him. He was the one who lit up even her darkest days - always being that rock that held her together.

All the years they’d been together, she never had reason to think Duncan didn’t feel the same way. She thought he was enough for him…

A message from her friend pinged her phone, making her acknowledge the time.

God, she wanted to scream again. She didn’t know whether to believe if he was really at his office.

Lost. Alone. She didn’t know what to do. The one person she knew could make her feel loved was now the person causing her the most pain.

Emma tried to get herself off the floor, but what was the point. She didn't see a rhyme or reason to it when she didn’t know what to do.

She didn’t know where he was.

She didn’t know what she’d say to him if he was.

And she felt like she had nowhere to go.

So she laid on her closet floor, clutching the nearest shirt of his she could reach and stained his shirt with her tears. Her tears would soon dry and disappear from the fabric, but the lip print on his collar would be painful to remove both from his shirt and her mind.

--

While Duncan waited for Y/N to finish in the bathroom, he checked his phone and saw a message that had come in from Emma. Guilt clouded every emotion he had. It overtook the anxiety he felt of the what ifs with Y/N. It encompassed him completely.

Missing you x, she sent with a picture of their dog.

He’d been gone for longer than he anticipated and knew she must be getting worried. He took a deep breath, trying to ease himself.

He was doing this for her.

--

Y/N’s nerves bubbled up in her stomach, but she couldn’t stall much longer.

“Are you okay?” Duncan asked right at the door.

She knew looking at the results would then seal her fate with Duncan - one way or another.

“Yup! Just a minute.” she got up and held on to the edge of the sink before splashing her face with cold water. “You can do this,” she whispered to herself.

Y/N picked up the test and held her breath.

Not pregnant.

As relief washed over her she couldn’t deny the tiny part of her that hoped she was -- as selfish as it was, she didn’t think Duncan wouldn’t leave her if she was.

Y/N walked out of the bathroom, negative test in hand, to a Duncan who nervously paced her living room.

“It’s fine, Duncan. I’m not pregnant.” She pretended not to care when she saw his shoulders finally relax since he’d heard of the possibility of it being true.

He clapped his hands together nervously. Duncan hadn’t realized how sweaty his palms were in the short time waiting. “Okay,” he nodded. “Okay - I… How are you feel-”

“Stop.” she interrupted him. “We don’t have to do this.” Although normally seeing Duncan in her apartment always filled her with a sense of warmth - it was the illusion of having a life with him - when she saw him now, he seemed out of place. He didn’t belong there no matter how much she wanted to force that piece there.

He frowned, studying her expressions, “I came because last time we spoke -”

Y/N interrupted him again, “I know why you’re here. You think you can clear your conscious by telling me how fucking special I am,” she rolled her eyes. “We don’t need to do all that.” If she had any doubts about the way he felt before - they were made clear now.

And while she felt she had a million things left unsaid to him, she didn’t feel like she owed him that. “You’re good. We’re good. I just want to shower and move on. So I’d appreciate it if you quit calling and showing up.”

Just let me go.... She wanted to scream.

--

Duncan was driving back home from Y/N’s apartment and while he had so many thoughts racing in his head - for the first time in a long time, he felt lighter. As difficult as it’s been to part ways with Y/N, he knew that it was the right decision. He’d finally have a chance to do things right by Emma.

“I’m home, baby!” Duncan called out, hanging his keys by the door. The house felt cold and a shiver ran down his spine.

He walked into their bedroom looking for his wife and saw the door of their walk-in closet jarred open. When he opened the door he saw Emma curled into the fetal position asleep, holding his shirt with Captain snuggled up on her side.

She had tired herself out from crying and fell asleep waiting for his return.

Duncan’s heart rate spiked, thinking she’d been hurt or something happened. “Emma!” he fell to his knees, placing the back of his hand on her forehead, feeling for a temperature. “Baby, wake up,” he cooed, until he saw her eyes flutter open.

And for the fraction of a second between unconsciousness and consciousness, she got lost in the blue of his eyes all over again. For that fraction of a second it was like waking up to him that very first night they spent together.

“Hold still,” Duncan laughed, his fingers delicately brushed over Emma’s face until he got the eyelash that was in danger of going into her eye. “There,” he showed her the lash stuck to his thumb.

“Thank you,” she licked her lips, her eyes glancing down at Duncan’s pink lips.

“Wait,” he grabbed her wrist with his other hand, “Press your thumb to mine - and whoever the lash sticks to gets to make a wish,” he explained the silly ritual. It was something one of his nannies had taught him and it always stuck with him. He loved how he could be like this with Emma… soft… vulnerable. He’s sure very little people actually knew this side of him.

Sure, they’d only been dating for a little bit now, but Duncan was more than sure that she was the love of his life.

“What?” she laughed, her voice like music to his ears.

“Trust me,” he smiled when she pressed her thumb to his. “Okay, ready? One… two… three.” They each pulled their digits away from each other and took a look. The lash was gone from Duncan’s thumb and Emma was smiling like a child with it pressed on her skin.

“What do I do now?” she giggled.

“Make a wish and then drop the eyelash into your shirt.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes trying to keep a very serious face, but Duncan could see the smile tugging on her lips. “Done.” she dropped the lash into her shirt.

“Well… what was the wish?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you that!”

“I never said that was a rule!!” he argued back.

“That's a basic wish rule,” she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs criss crossed on his couch. “You can’t say what you wished for!”

“I’m taking the wish back if you won’t tell me,” Duncan tried to look stern, but his lopsided smile gave it away. He adjusted on the couch and pushed her down until he was hovering over her. His fingers started to tickle her sides, making the bottom of her shirt ride up.

She was in a fit of laughter begging him to stop. She found herself grabbing the back of his head and tugging his hair down to have his face just inches away from her own. Duncan’s fingers stopped tickling her, but his hand snuck inside her shirt, feeling her softness.

Everything froze for a moment when she stared into his eyes that way. He looked at her like she’d hung the moon and the stars. She never wanted to stop looking into the safety of his eyes.

-

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting and focusing back on Duncan’s. After that split second had passed, she sat up and shoved his chest, trying to make him give her space.

Duncan furrowed his brows, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Emma backed away from him, eyes prickling with tears again. She picked up his stained shirt - what once was her favorite, got closer to him and shoved it into his chest, “F-fucking asshole!” she finally let herself sob again. She felt so weak when her forehead fell against his chest and her balled up fists rested against him.

Entirely confused, Duncan wrapped his arms around her waist, trying to get her to look at him. He hadn’t gotten a chance to examine the shirt she handed him.

Emma felt herself melting into his hold, but stopped herself. She took his arms and removed them from her waist, taking a step back, “Don’t touch me.”

“No…” Duncan let out under his breath, seeing the lipstick mark, “No,” he said louder, “No, honey, I can explain.” He reached his hand out to touch her but she flinched at his approach.

His warm “honey” had a cold stare behind her tears. He couldn’t imagine what she could be feeling… She was never supposed to find out.

A single tear rolled down his cheek. “I love you. No one else but you.” his voice cracked.

“Get out.” she sniffled, wanting so desperately to be strong.

“Let me explain!” he felt his knees wanting to give out and his head started to spin. This couldn’t be happening. He asked her to let him explain but he didn’t know if he even had a good reason to give her.

For a moment, he saw her face soften. A result of seeing the sick look on his face - she still felt the urge to hold him, to kiss him.

He took the chance at her moment of softness and continued, “It’ll never happen again, I promise.”

“Maybe we should back up for a minute if you really want to explain.” she wiped her cheeks, “Let’s start with an easy one, no? What’s on that shirt, Dunc?”

“Baby…” it felt like a kick to the gut.

“I’ll help you out,” she continued, “Who’s lipstick is on your shirt?”

“It was a stupid mistake, Emma. I promise.” he pleaded.

“No, Dunc. A mistake is when I accidentally add too much salt to a recipe or leave my coffee mug on top of my car before I pull out of the driveway.” her voice lowers again, “I trusted you.”

“How long?” she took a deep breath. “And please don’t bother lying.”

“Six months.” he hung his head in shame.

No. No. No.

Emma thought she wanted to know the truth but… hearing it from his voice that this had been going on far longer than she imagined broke her heart all over again.

“Six months,” she repeated. “You’ve been fucking some whores for six months. God I’m so fucking stupid,” she groaned. She raised her hand to the pole that held all of Duncan’s clothes in the closet and slid them off, throwing them to the ground in frustration.

“It was never more than one.” he tried to defend himself.

“Because that makes it so much better!!!” she laughed humorlessly. “Get out! Get out!” she tossed his clothes at him until he backed out of the closet.

Even if it broke her again, she wanted to know the reason why. But it couldn’t be today. She could barely stand to look at him and with everything that came out his mouth - just ending up cutting her more and more.

“I love you,” Duncan dropped to his knees and crawled to her until he could wrap his arms around her legs. “If we can both calm down and talk-”

“I don’t need to calm down,” she cried.

In all his years spent with Emma - he’d never seen her so upset and it killed him to know he was the reason for it. Maybe it was his selfishness taking over again, but he couldn’t lose her - couldn’t let her go.

They’d almost been inseparable from the moment they met. Attached at the hip. Always in sync.

-

Duncan was in his home office, typing away on his laptop. His glasses were low on his face and he wore a white t-shirt and his plaid pajama pants.

Emma had been trying to get him to bed for the past hour, but he was really busy with the project he’d been working on.

She came back into his office ready for bed. She wore one of his old college sweatshirts and rubbed her eyes. “Almost done?” she yawned.

“Almost,” Duncan didn’t look up from his screen.

Emma lingered by the door, not wanting to go to bed without Duncan by her side. Duncan felt her at the door and looked up, pushing his glasses back. He knew how much she loved sleeping in his old sweatshirt at this point he considered it hers.

“C’mere,” he rolled back his chair, “You can sit in my lap until I’m done working.” he smiled, patting his thigh.

She hurried to his desk and curled up on his lap. She loved being close to him. Just feeling his breathing, taking in his scent, feeling his hands absently wander up and down her body.

Her legs hung off the side of his chair and her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, but Duncan kept her steady with his arm around her waist.

And he could stay like that for hours - feeling her close as he finishes reading over reports for his app. She was like a life size stress reliever for him. Just by having her touching him, pressing little kisses along his jaw… melted away his stress.

-

When she looked down at Duncan on his knees for her, she still saw the man she loved. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel that way about someone again.

“Baby, honey,” he cried, “I’ll never stop making it up to you just please,” his forehead pressed into her thigh, “Don’t leave me.”

“I-if you won’t leave - I will,” she stepped out of his grasp. “I can’t think straight right now. I… I’m so hurt,” her voice broke with the last word.

“I’m going to my moms house…” she spoke out loud, guiding herself through the plan. “I can’t be here. I can’t even look at you.”

Duncan begged her to stay. He told her if anyone should be forced to leave the home it should be him - he was the one who screwed up. But she couldn’t stand being in the place that has brought them so many happy memories.

That night, Emma stayed in her childhood room. Although she had outgrown it over the years, the whole situation made her feel small. She curled up under her yellow bed sheets and stared at her phone each time it lit up with another text from Duncan.

Duncan tossed and turned in his empty bed. In his sleep, his arms searched for his Emma, coming up empty every time.

--

“Em?” her mother woke her up gently, “It’s been five days of just sulking around and ignoring calls. You need to get up, sweetheart.”

Her mother softly pulled her covers down. “Maybe you can get dressed and we can go for a coffee,” concern clouded her voice.

Emma didn’t say anything - just stared at her ceiling. “Duncan came by why you were sleeping,” her mom continued. His name was the only word she’d responded to; she looked at her mom with tears in her eyes.

“I told him you weren’t available to talk…” She handed her daughter her glasses off the nightstand.

She put her glasses on her face and slowly sat up in the bed. Her mom was right - she’d been avoiding everyone; avoiding Duncan for too long now. She slowly nodded, feeling her body drag out of bed.

The hot water that almost burned her skin in the shower suddenly turned frigid. The warm embrace evaporating away. Her heart was growing tired of the things she loved leaving her reach.

After a day of blurred nothingness, her heart was finally pounding a million beats per second, staring at the door of her home. As familiar as it was, it didn’t feel like home anymore.

With a shaky hand, her fingertip pressed deeply into the doorbell.

12:46 am - Although Duncan should have been asleep he found himself the same way he had since Emma left; sad and alone.

He pulled on an old pair of sweats, his hair in messy curls with a few strands in his face - even his stubble had gotten a little scruffier.

“Emma,” his eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Seeing her again finally made him feel like he could breathe again. “You’re home,” he tried to reach for her, but saw the way her entire body tensed up at his advancement.

“Stop,” she shook her head, her heart couldn’t handle having to reject him. She was holding on by a thread. “We need to talk.”

--

Four months later:

Y/N smiled in the sleepy state between dreaming and being conscious as she felt strong arms pulling her closer. His large hands pressed on her stomach, slowly inching up her shirt. At the same time, she felt his lips softly pressing into her shoulder.

“Morning,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed.

“Morning, princess,” he rolled over and pinned her below him. She met his kind, unclouded gaze. Not a trace of guilt behind his eyes - he was solely happy to be hers.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “You want chocolate chip or blueberry pancakes today?” he nuzzled the tip of his nose with her, making her break a smile.

“Both?” she bit her lip.

“Oh my god,” he playfully rolled his eyes before kissing her, “You’re absolutely spoiled, darling.” He started getting out of bed, pulling his sweats that were discarded on the floor. Y/N stared in awe at the strong muscles of his bare back. She loved running her fingers over the smoothness of his skin, leaving invisible idle patterns or semi-permanent marks of her fingernails scratching down.

There was peace knowing she never had to share him. With him, she didn’t have to sacrifice bits of her happiness.

With one last kiss, he stepped out of the room to take a quick shower before starting breakfast. It’d become sort of a ritual for them; Sundays were for Y/N to sleep in and for him to make her breakfast. They’d later fold their laundry together and watch movies.

Her phone buzzed too loudly on the nightstand for her to ignore. “Hello?” she picked up the call, her eyes still closed.

“Y/N?” her heart came to a halt. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. Her name dripped from his lips like molasses; warm and sickeningly sweet.

“Y/N, it 's me, Duncan.”

After a brief pause, Y/N let out a deep breath. She was fine. When Duncan left her apartment almost five months ago, she didn’t know what it would be like the next time she saw him. They’d left so much unsaid, but it was better this way. She wanted to be done. And while there were nights she thought she’d never stop missing him, the soft ache in her heart started to fade.

She was relearning what it meant to love someone who could give her what she wanted; what she deserved. No longer did she feel shameful - kept like a dirty secret.

Late night meet ups in dark parking lots with Duncan turned into proudly holding hands with someone who wanted the world to see the way he felt about her.

Quick fucks that left her feeling empty as Duncan hurried to leave her apartment to go home to his wife turned into her boyfriend spending the night to make her breakfast in the morning.

Things were never as bad as she anticipated. There was a part of her that was proud of not feeling fazed by Duncan’s call.

“I…” Duncan continued when she didn’t speak, “I mi- I’m sorry,” she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose as he stumbled over his words, “How are you?”

“I am doing really well, Duncan,” her tone was sincere without a trace of bitterness. If there was one thing Duncan did right, was give her his final piece of advice - when he told her she deserves someone who could make her happy.

“Emma… filed for divorce.” he coughed to cover up any anxiety in his voice.

“We need to talk,” Emma told him before stepping into the house. Duncan still replayed that night over and over in his head wishing and attempting to bargain with anyone that would listen to turn back time.

Duncan sat beside her at their small kitchen table; they always talked about getting a bigger one when they’re little family started to grow, but it was perfect for just the two of them. Countless mornings sipping coffee with the comfort of the other’s company were spent at their little table.

“I need you to know how much you hurt me, Duncan.” Duncan couldn’t recall the last time Emma had called him Duncan. He was her babe, her baby, her honey, her Dunc. A few nights ago, when she left - as angry as she was, through all the tears and screams she still called him Dunc. Hearing his full name fall from her lips with distaste made him realize things were changing.

The more Emma listened to Duncan recounting his inexcusable reasons the more upset she became. Silent tears strolled down her face as he explained over and over that he didn’t even have a real reason why because that meant there was nothing she could have done to keep it from happening.

“Do you love her?” Emma interrupted him. If there were any hope for them, Emma knew it would be in his answer.

“Baby - that’s over. I’ll never see her again,” and with the absence of a ‘no,’ Duncan sealed his fate.

She winced, internally accepting the end.

Duncan had a harder time really accepting it was over. A few weeks after that night, Duncan was served with paperwork for the divorce. He hated the word; it felt heavy on his tongue.

He didn’t want to make the process miserable for Emma; the least she deserved was to be able to leave him without so much legal jargon in the way, entangling an already large mess.

But lawyers do what they do best.

His attorney ‘friends’ squeezed pretty dime after pretty dime out of Duncan.

“She found out. About us,” Y/N imagined all of the awful things his life must have thought about her. “A couple months ago, really,” Duncan couldn’t stop talking.

“Why are you telling me this? And why are you telling me this now?” her boyfriend’s shower was still running and she was thankful to have the privacy for this conversation.

“She’s really left. I don’t know what to do. I miss her. I miss you,” he looked out at the skyline from his downtown condo; a place that could never feel like a home. A bachelor pad with a sad bachelor. Could a divorce candidate be considered a bachelor?

“I’m sorry,” she didn’t know what else to offer to that, “I did what you said,” she continued after a moment of silence. “I found someone who could give me what I needed. I’m happy, Duncan. I didn’t think I’d ever be happy like I am now after you - and I don’t mean this to rub it in, I just mean,” she searched for the right words, “I know it feels like you’ll never be happy again without that certain person, but there will be time when you will. I know you love her a lot. I can see that now and I could see it then. I’m sorry for the part I played in all this.”

They were both moving on without him. Not that he could blame them; he’d made them both sacrifice parts of themselves so he could be selfish.

“I’m sorry for calling,” Duncan grimaced. “I really hope he treats you well, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, “And Duncan,” she chewed on her bottom lip, “Take care, okay?”

“You too.”

--

One year later:

A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead as she huffed, setting the last of the boxes down by the front door. An entire year had passed and Emma had clung on to the final memories of her marriage. Things were different now and as much as she still found herself yearning for what she once had, she knew this was how things needed to be.

“Think we’ve got most of it now,” he came around the corner with a bottle of wine and two glasses in his hand he kept from being put up.

“How are you feeling?” Duncan asked, pouring her a generous amount before handing her the glass.

“Nervous,” she laughed, “scared,” she admitted.

Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in the way it always was when she had more to say. Duncan couldn’t help but smile until his eyes crinkled; as happy as he was for her, he couldn’t wrap his mind about her leaving.

He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head, “You’re gonna do great. I don’t know anyone smarter, more qualified, more perfect for the job,” he encouraged.

“Not just about that,” she admitted. She sat on the floor of her empty living room and Duncan joined her, filling his own glass. “Moving. Being so far - starting over,” she sighed and took a long sip of her wine.

“Dunc,” she shook her head, “We grew up in this house. We loved in this house. Fought and made up,” she laughed.

--

“What’re we doing?” she kissed him as he pushed her into the house, hands fumbling all over each other.

“Don’t think about it,” he groaned against her lips, pressing her against the wall and hiking her up. “Just.. don’t think,”

“Mm, not here,” she sighed, feeling his hand wander up her dress, caressing the inside of her thigh. “The bed.. Our bed..” her voice was shaky as his skilled fingers brushed over her panties. She missed this. Missed him.

With signed divorce papers forgotten, Duncan tossed her on the bed and climbed over her, never letting his lips leave her skin. Savoring every moment she let him have with her. He didn’t know if she’d regret it in the morning. If she would hate him more than she did before, but she was giving him this now and he wanted to take it in. He wanted to memorize her taste as if it would be the last time.

He kissed down the hills of her breasts and hiked her dress past her thighs, dipping his head down to kiss along her inner thighs. “Emma,” he breathed her name like it was his final breath.

Duncan hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, “Up.”

She raised her hips and he slid them off her legs in one quick movement. He wasted no time - he swiped his tongue along her wetness, immediately moaning at the feeling of having her on his tongue.

Two of his fingers plunged into her, slowly pumping in and out of her while his pouty lips wrapped around her clit. Those lips she loved. The same lips that formed into her favorite smile; the ones that kissed her like the most delicate flower in the world; the ones that held his tongue that massaged her just like that.

Like muscle memory taking over her, her fingers laced themselves in strands of honey brown hair - pulling with the way he was making her feel.

“Dunc!” she almost screamed, feeling his dexterous curl and brush against her g-spot.

“Gonna cum,” her legs wrapped around him, her thighs closing around his face.

Duncan didn’t stop. He kept going. Wet open-mouthed kisses on her pussy, letting a trail of saliva and cum drag from his lips. He peeked up to watch her with a wet mouth before licking them clean.

He tried to hold her still as she finished, not letting his lips leave her center. He cleaned up every bit of cum with his tongue before he sponged kisses along her twitching thighs as she came down from the high he’d given her.

Duncan climbed on top of her again, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. There was comfort in the scratchy tickles of his beard on her soft skin.

She held him, softly running her fingers through his hair until she was ready.

While she didn’t plan on thinking that night, there was a part of her that knew this would be the last time they’d ever be like this again. She shook the thought away. For selfish reasons, she didn’t want it to ruin the night.

“Fuck me,” like it’s the last time, she thought.

And he did.

Their teeth clashed together with desperate kisses as he buried himself inside of her. As close as they were - they wanted to be closer.

Duncan’s stomach tightened, feeling himself twitch inside her. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock for his cum.

“Fuck,” she sighed against his lips. “Feels so good.”

“Missed this… missed you, baby,” he rut his hips against hers. He took her hands and pinned them above her head, staring into her eyes with a dazed out smile.

Duncan didn’t dare think about it the next morning. He wished it’d never come.

But it did… it always did.

-

By the time Duncan woke up from his Emma filled dreams, she was lying awake with nothing but the sheet covering her.

“Uh hey,” Duncan offered, trying to get a feel of the room. Maybe he was still in a blissed out state of mind, but he didn’t feel a sense of regret lingering between them.

“Hi,” she laughed, turning to face him. “About last night…” she tried to read his expressions.

“I missed that. In all honesty, I miss you.” Duncan couldn’t dare to move, afraid if he did he would wake up from a dream. “I don’t think… we need to stop being friends. You’ve always been my best friend.” Which was true. The months leading up to the divorce were miserable - for both of them. “I… don’t think we can continue doing this,” she gestured between their naked bodies. “I don’t want that - I can’t handle going back to how things were, but I miss my friend.”

Duncan would take having her in his life in any capacity she allowed.

Of course, what they had couldn’t be recreated. But they did their best to be good friends to each other. Emma was tired of feeling like a victim of betrayal. She wanted to move on and not feel heavy from that anymore.

Duncan would come over on occasion for dinner or they’d go for a walk. As much as he wanted more, he wouldn’t push her - he couldn’t.

-

And like a good friend, Duncan was helping her pack up her belongings from the house they called their home so she could move hours away from him. The small sliver of time he’d see her was now being taken away, but he couldn’t keep her from going.

“I’m scared of being away from you,” she looked over at those familiar eyes that would always be home to her. “You’ve been the one constant in my life - good or bad - and you’ll be so far,” her eyes started to wet with tears.

Duncan took her hands in his, “I won’t ask you to stay. As much as I want you to stay with every fiber of my being - I can’t ask that of you. What I can ask is this,” he paused and looked into her eyes, “do you want to go?”

“Yes,” she answered, keeping his stare.

He smiled and hoped it met his eyes, “Em, I’ll always be here. Near or far. I’ll always love you. You know that.” And he meant the words in ways she didn’t know.

“I know,” she whispered, “I love you too.” Duncan wanted her to mean it in the way he did, but he knew better.

“Change is good, right?”

“Change is scary - but good,” Duncan tried to affirm her.

As much as everything around them could change, one thing would remain true; Emma was the love of his life. There would always be a part of him that wished he didn’t mess up the best thing that happened to him.

But there was a time he thought she’d never speak to him again and they found themselves back to each other. He wasn’t holding his breath for more to happen, but wishful thinking kept him going.

-

Duncan hoped she wouldn’t ask him to take her to the airport because he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle that goodbye.

Her last few days in town were so busy, Duncan hardly got a chance to see her. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and stared out his view.

Emma was leaving the next morning and he hadn’t had a chance of a real goodbye.

What he didn’t know was that Emma found herself at his apartment door. Her stomach was tied in knots over the anxiety of it all.

Duncan opened the door after a soft knock.

Emma.

“Hi,”

“Hi” as confused as he was, he was also so happy she came.

“I just came to say bye,” she bit her lip in that way Duncan was too familiar with. He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

“Do you want to come in?” he moved out of the doorframe to let her in.

“I shouldn’t,” but she took a step forward.

“Tomorrow’s the day,” she sighed, nervously fidgeting with her clothes.

“Getting cold feet?” he joked.

“Didn't have cold feet when I married you, not getting cold feet now,” she laughed, cheeks burning hot.

“I just really came to see you before I left,”

“I’m glad you did. I have something for you. Wait here,” he rushed to his bedroom to get his college sweatshirt she loved. She made him take it when they split up. He’s never worn it since she used to - that was hers and she should have it.

“Dunc,” she smiled, taking the sweatshirt he handed her. “Thank you,” she hugged him.

She hugged him and didn’t let go. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, breathing in her familiar scent, and just held her.

“I have to go,” she mumbled against his shoulder without making an effort to move.

“I know,” he squeezed her harder, making her laugh.

They eventually let each other go for their final goodbye.

“Promise you’ll call?”

“Of course,” she promised. She reached up to grab his face, giving him a kiss on his cheek, “Bye, honey,” she said softly in his ear.

tagging:

@xavierplympton @thatonehumanbeing05 @plsfuckmelangdon @ntxoza @quillanpie @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860 @welcometothelioncage @angelicmichael @silky-luxe @lady-jane-revisited @ritualmichael @feralthoughtdump @bitchchatter @wroteclassicaly @langdonswhoreprobably @devilish-hecate @thatspookyagent @dark-mei-rose @lovelylangdonx @fckinsupreme @littledemondani @brattylovee @ferndolan @dhampiravidi @7-wonders @melodylangdon @allytrap @luciahoneychurch @moriatysringtone7173

[sxfik]

you're the sunshine in the rain when it's pouring (won't you give yourself to me?)

read on ao3 • masterlist

summary: Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

a/n: hello! this is my first solhwi fic i've written and if i'm being honest, it's kind of a mess but i have so many ideas for them, especially after these last few episodes! honestly, the two of them are the epitome of idiots to lovers so i just had to write this! the title of this fic is from best part by Daniel Ceasar ft. H. E. R.

come interact or drop a request if you want to see more solhwi content :)

Kang Sol A was not afraid.

She wasn’t afraid during her yearly doctor’s appointment, the glint of the long needle threatening to pierce through her. She wasn’t afraid when she stood up for her sisters, time and time again, until she was beaten and bruised protecting them. In the face of any adversity, she was taught to stand strong and fight, no matter how big or small the enemy. Even at the face of losing her scholarship and being expelled from Hankuk Law School, she knew she could pull herself up.

No, Kang Sol A was not afraid, she wasn’t built to be afraid. But what else could you call the pang that rippled through her heart as she noticed the two figures huddled at the cafe near the entrance of her school?

It’s been a week since Ye Seul’s trial, five days since the incident, and four days since she started avoiding Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam, Han Joon Hwi.

His presence was bearable prior to Ye Seul’s trial. Actually, more than bearable. It was a comfort, a person she knew she could let her guard down with. His teasing smiles or his love for ramen at any time of day.  As her days and her mind got busier day by day, his presence was unyielding. Every late night in the library, he was by her side, explaining the codes over and over again. Even when she got frustrated, or whiny, Joon Hwi was infinitely patient with her. With Joon Hwi by her side, everything seemed so easy. She saw the light at the end of the long tunnel she was dragged through. Still, with Kang Dan’s sudden appearance, Mr. Yang and Ye Seul’s trial, her mind was too busy to think clearly. To see clearly.

But when his gaze shifted to her and her roommate when he stood as a witness during Ye-Seul’s trial, her breath caught in her throat as she imagined, just for a moment, that he was going to say her name. That he was looking at her. That he was in love with her.

It was as if something clicked, like the puzzle pieces coming together in her mind. In an instant, she saw him in such clarity, every action, every smile and gesture passing through her mind. Cliche as it seems, it was as if she saw him for the first time all over again.

But of course, that gaze was not meant for her. Why would it be? Han Joon Hwi was meant to be with Sol B, not her. The students who were born to work with the law are perfectly suited for each other. It was obvious that he wanted to protect Sol B. Yet, in her weakest moment, her heart yearned for it to be her.

Forcing herself to breathe, she continued on after the trial as if nothing had changed between them. Because, well, they haven’t. The view had shifted but only for her.  At first, it was easier than she expected, teasing him about her roommate. Sol would be lying if she said it didn’t come with a twinge of jealousy but what could she do, but continue to be loyal to him. So on she continued, with Joon Hwi blissfully unaware that she was falling deeper for him, day by day.

Of course, nothing ever goes her way. Five nights ago, Sol was seated at her usual desk at the library, the rows of desks unoccupied. It was another late night for her, as she poured over her case files for a quiz the next day. Despite being a breeze for the other students, Sol had to study for a 110% in order to score an 80%. Sol set up camp in the library, her texts haphazardly strewed across the desk, highlighter in hand, as she buckled down for a long night of studying.

As the hours passed, her vision slowly blurred, the words on the page meshing together into a blob of black squiggles. She blinked, forcing her eyes to focus but to no avail. Sighing, she shut her eyes as she slumped back into her chair, allowing her head to loll off the edge of her chair and stretching her arms out.

“Still studying?” Joon Hwi’s familiar voice startled her, her head jerking back and almost tipping her chair backwards. “Whoa, Sol, be careful!” he lunged, catching her chair before she had the chance to stabilize herself.

“Yah, Han Joon Hwi, why would you come up suddenly like that?” Sol wrinkled her nose at him in annoyance, getting a teasing smirk in response. Sol turned towards her desk, pulling herself closer to the desk as he looked over her.

“Are you studying for Professor Jung’s quiz tomorrow?” he questioned, his head tilting in a familiar way as she sighed once more.

“Of course I am. Not all of us are law geniuses like you, Mr. Second Round Judicial Exam,” Sol huffed as she looked up at him but she softened her face as she saw the smile on his face.

Joon Hwi let out a small laugh as he stepped closer to her, clapping a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. “Well, then I’d be more than qualified to help, don’t you think, sunbae?” he quipped back.

“Hey, I can do it myse-”

“Hm, let me see,”  he cut her off, his eyebrows furrowed. Her heart stuttered as he leaned forward, over her shoulder, looking onto the texts that lay in front of her. “Oh, this one isn’t as bad as the others, you should start with this and then…” he rambled on, but every once of her concentration was on his proximity. The warmth of his hand on her shoulder bleed through her shirt, the feel of his palm burning her skin. He was close enough that she could hear the soft puffs of his breath, his warmth radiating off his body pulling her body towards him like a magnet.

It’s okay, just breathe. You know how to breathe right, Sol? She slowly instructed herself on how to breathe like she suddenly had to learn all over again. And wow, was that a bad idea. His cologne is even more intoxicating up close, and so is Joon Hwi. Every one of her senses was overloaded, her mind blank save for him.

“Yah, Kang Sol? You better be paying atten-” he turned his head towards her, and she forgot how to breathe all over again. His brown eyes widened in surprise as his face just centimeters away from hers. Sol parted her lips ever so slightly to speak but his gaze dropped her lips and her mind was blank again as she blinked at him. His features were so much softer up close, as she watched his face relax. His long eyelashes brushed against his cheek as he blinked. His eyes flitted back to her, but his familiar honey eyes darkened. Her eyes drifted over his face, and then dipped down to his soft lips. If she just moved closer, she could feel how soft his lips were...

And suddenly, reality slapped her in the face. What would Sol B think if she caught her boyfriend so close to her? Even with her roommate’s cold behavior, Sol knew just how much she suffered and how much it would break her to know how she felt about Joon Hwi. Despite every molecule in her body begging her to move closer, she couldn’t do that to Sol B.

So she moved away, stuttering out some lame excuse as she gathered her books and stumbled out of the library. But as she lay in her bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as she imagined all that could have happened between them, the warmth of the memory spread across her body.

And Kang Sol A knew that she wasn’t just afraid. She was terrified.

When she couldn’t stand and fight, she did the next best thing. She ran. She intricately planned everyday to minimize her contact with him as much as possible. Obviously, step one was to sit away from him in class, to avoid his gaze in the halls. She would leave her dorm as early as possible and hide until he was finished with his dinner to sneak in and grab herself something.

But it wasn’t until she tried to avoid him that she realized just how much space in her life was occupied by him. He used to always sit next to or across from her. Always looking over her shoulder, or leaning over  to see the textbooks clearly. Every time she turned to ask a question, or make a snarky comment, there was an empty space reminding her of her decision.

Still, even if he wasn’t physically present, he occupied a corner in her mind. His voice was in her head, echoing responses to her every thought. Her mind would fill with things she wanted to rant about, to ask, to share with him. When she closes her eyes at night and drifts into sleep, he would be there, his signature teasing smile on his face.

And he didn’t seem to be making it any easier on her. It seemed that Joon Hwi took it upon himself to magically appear whenever she least expected him to. If she went to the copy room to print a case file, he was sitting there, looking through a stack of papers or in line to print a copy himself. If she decides to have a late night study session, there he is across from her, books in hand with his legs propped up on a table.

Han Joon Hwi was the constant, unavoidable presence that she can’t seem to get rid of from her life. From her mind. From her heart.

“Unnie?” a soft voice snapped Kang Sol out of her thoughts, and Ye Seul appeared in front of her, near the entrance. How long have I stood here? Sol blinked.

“Ah, Ye-Seul,” she smiled at her best friend. “Let’s have some coffee today? At the cafe?” she asked, her shoulders relaxing after flitting up to where Joon Hwi and Kang Sol B stood. Well, where they were standing. I guess they left. Ye Seul’s eyebrows furrowed as she followed Sol’s gaze but before she could respond, Sol A hooked an elbow through hers, dragging her toward the cafe.

But of course, nothing ever goes her way.

“Ah, Ye-Seul, can I borrow Kang Sol for a moment?” Joon Hwi asked, suddenly appearing in their path, his eyes strictly focused on her best friend. Sol squeezed her arm in alarm, everything in her body pleading for Ye-Seul to say no so she can just avoid him until her crush fades away.

“Unnie, buy me the coffee next time, hm?” Ye-Seul turned to her with an apologetic gaze. Betrayal. I’ll get you back for this. Sol A sighed as she turned her gaze to Joon Hwi.

“Yah, Sol, why are you avoiding me like this? Please, just talk to me so we can fix it,” he pleaded with her, wasting no time to get to the point. Sol A pursed her lips as she looked up at him, her mind too full for her to answer him. What could she say to him? That she likes him? That she’s found out how much she needs him in her life, but she was too late?

“Sol, please,” his voice broke slightly as the silence stretched between them but that was enough for her to sigh, her shoulders relaxing as she gave in to him.

“Okay,” she responded and that was all Joon Hwi needed to grab her wrist and walk towards the corridor between the stairwells.

“We can talk more privately,” he answered her before she even voiced the question. “Now, why are you mad at me? The last time I saw you was at the library and then you disappeared,” Joon hwi ran a hand through his hair nervously as he rambled on and for the first time, Kang Sol took him in. To say he was disheveled was an understatement. The usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be seen and his clothes were askew as his face showed the lack of sleep and exhaustion. Her heart clenched for him, but no, you can’t do this. You can’t betray Sol B.

“Don’t you think it’s best if we don’t interact with how we used to?” she asked, her eyes glued to the floor, ignoring her throat closing up at the thought of breaking their friendship.

“What?” his eyes zeroed in on her, and she could see the confusion running through his mind.

“What do you think Sol B would think if she saw us like this? We can’t be close like this with each other bec-”

“Who cares about how I am with you?” he cut her off, his jaw clenched as his eyebrows furrow in frustration.

“Ya Han Joon Hwi, how could you do this? I expected so much better from you. Don’t you understand, it’s terrible to do this to her!” she pleaded with him, her heart squeezing inside her chest. Sol clenched her jaw, willing herself to be strong for her roommate’s sake, for his sake, and for hers.

Silence stretched between them as she looked up to him. His eyes closed for a moment while he looked down to the floor. And then his eyes flitted up and into her eyes as his fist clenched, his brown eyes filling with an unreadable emotion. “Why is it so terrible?” he whispered.

“Why-” Sol started, her voice burning in anger and pain.

“Why is it so terrible that I’m in love with you?” Joon hwi’s eyes flickered up to hers, his gaze boring into her.

Kang Sol blinked. Her back straightened as her mouth opened and closed like a fish, as Joon Hwi took a step closer. “Me?” she stuttered out, her mind spinning, unable to process his words.

“You.” He stepped closer.

“But you like Kang Sol-”

“A. Kang Sol A.” Another step closer.

She closed her eyes as she shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and to ignore his proximity. But all her attempts were futile as Joon Hwi brought his hand up, his touch feather light as he cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. Sol’s hands felt frozen as her breath lodged into her throat, her eyes meeting his. She could hear her heart thundering in her ribcage as Joon hwi spoke.

“I like you, Kang Sol. It’s always been you,” he whispered, his voice wavering as he grew closer, his lips just a centimeter away from hers. Never one with patience, she surged forward to meet his lips. Her imagination and dreams did not compare to how his lips felt against hers. It was soft and his kisses were just as unyielding as his presence. It was all consuming as her hands gripped his coat, pulling him closer. His thumb running across her cheekbones, he shifted his head pulling her in deeper as his hands cupped her face. Even though their lips just met for a few moments, it felt as though his soft lips were against hers for an eternity.

Sol’s eyes were still closed as they parted, not wishing to leave this moment and back into real life. Apprehensively, she met his eyes and a moment of silence stretched between them, as they caught their breath. A million watt smile stretched across his face, his contagious happiness brightening her up as she smiled back. But suddenly reality caught up to her.

“Wait, so you’re not with my roommate?” she questioned, confused about everything she had seen between them. Joon hwi shook his head.

“No, I was just with her because she asked for help during one of her legal research papers,” he explained, then paused. “Yah, wait. You avoided me this whole time because you thought I was in love with Kang Sol B?” a smirk spread across his face, his expression taunting. Sol bit her lip as she looked down, unwilling to admit her mistake.

“Yah, how can you be at law school and not figure out I liked you!” he asked, his voice incredulous.

“You were so ambiguous! Every time I thought you liked me as more than friends, you’d act close with Sol B!” she huffed out, pouting  and pulling away from him, embarrassed that she thought he liked her roommate. Before she could pull away, he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into a crushing hug. Her body relaxed as she took him in, the way he felt against her intoxicating and comforting beyond description.

Kang Sol A was terrified. But having him at her side was enough to know that she could fight once more, together, as more than friends.