#and look back onto to see how my art changed again lol
Photo
Evening out yesterdays (well tonights to be exact) tenderness with some slightly bloodied Kiyan
Can’t have too much softness here and also I love him
#the witcher#kiyan#witcher kiyan#art#zkretchy#currently none of my art has any thoughts about daydreaming up stories or whatnot#and is just ~poses~#also fun though#i kinda miss being rly into an au though#but this is good as well-some bigger pieces around to stare at#and look back onto to see how my art changed again lol#anyhow-kiyan#amazing cat v-v#meanwhile i almost forgot that witchers have scars two times in a row as well lol#apparently a modern no one ever got hurt au is needed-but i'll never do that#they all get to stay messed up just in new ways v-v need that
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Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)
Chapter 2
Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?
This chapter: Michael starts tutoring you but things are off to a rocky start.
Word count: +1900
Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.
Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.
Read Chapter 1 Here
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All my fics are also on AO3
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After almost two hours of Michael’s tutoring you were beginning to contemplate throwing in the towel and just letting Ben release that video. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?
Michael had been cocky as soon as you had sat down in front of him in the library that evening. Right now he was bordering on rude and very obviously growing more impatient with you by the minute. And the faster he talked the less you listened, leaving you both frustrated.
You had a splitting headache and all the numbers and calculations were just dancing across the page now, mocking you. None of it made any sense, no matter how many different ways Michael tried to explain it all to you.
You were good with history, languages, art or psychology. Numbers were hell on earth.
“Are you even listening?” Michael sighed impatiently, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms behind his head.
“Yes,” you nodded, followed by a heavy sigh,”No, ugh..I’m sorry, I just…I lost my focus about an hour ago.”
“An hour ago? You didn’t even have it to begin with,” Michael called you out.
“I just don’t know how this is so easy for you, like you don’t even have to think about it at all.”
“That’s because I don’t,” he answered smugly, making you roll your eyes.”Go on. Ask me a sum.”
You sighed some more but indulged him anyway,”33 times 20.”
He gave you a look,”Don’t insult me, a real sum.”
“333 times 444.”
“147.852,” he answered without even blinking. You had no way of knowing if his answer was even correct but you didn’t doubt it for a second.
“How did you do that so fucking fast?”
“I don’t know, I can just do it, in my head, I don’t have to think about it.”
“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes again.
“They’re gonna get stuck in your head if you keep doing that, you know,” he teased, making you squint your eyes at him.
He shook his head with a little amused grin,“Ask me another one then.”
“It’s fine, you made your point, you’re a genius.”
“Ask me another one, just to be sure,” he insisted.
“Michael, it’s fine, I get it.”
‘Ask me another fucking sum!” he raised his voice, making the few other people in the library look up at you both with annoyed looks on his face. You wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.
“Alright, fucking hell…1245 times 987.”
“1.228.815,” he answered, giving you another satisfied little smile.
You just stared at him without saying anything.
“My brain works different from yours,” he then explained.
“Yeah, no shit.”
You were beginning to see why Ben was so threatened by him, Michael was an actual mathematical genius, Ben didn’t stand a chance at that internship. That thought suddenly filled you with immense joy. And then fear, because if Ben didn’t stand a chance then what were you even doing here?
Michael watched as your face fell.
“Do you want to take a break?” he suggested.
You nodded,”Yeah, a permanent one, I’m never going to get this.” You dropped your head onto the table and let out a desperate little whine.
Michael just shook his head,”So you’re a quitter, I would say I’m shocked but my mum told me never to tell a lie.”
You lifted your head to give him an angry glare but he just ignored you and closed his books, not giving you time to object before he was up and out of his seat.
“When you’re serious about wanting to learn, you know where to find me,” he said,”Until then…stop wasting my time.”
“Michael,” you sighed but he was already walking away from you, and with it your last chance to stop Ben.
You couldn’t let this happen, if you let him go now your fate was sealed.
“Michael, wait!” you rushed after him without thinking, finding him halfway in one of the book shelves.
You grabbed at his arm to stop him, taking him by surprise.
He froze, eyes staring wildly at the spot where your hand was touching his arm. But he didn’t pull back or try to stop you. Instead he almost seemed to lean into your space a little, accepting your touch, his mouth opened in a surprised little sigh when your fingers gently closed around his elbow.
Of course the nerd was touch starved, it was almost too predictable. And was that a blush creeping up on his pale cheeks?
Ben had been right, Michael clearly wasn’t used to being touched, especially not by a woman. But he didn’t seem to dislike it, at all.
Maybe this mission wasn’t so impossible after all.
It was a desperate move, you realized that, but desperate is what you were.
“Please, wait,” you begged again, placing your other hand on his wrist while you gave him your best sad eyes and pouty lips,”You can’t give up on me, Michael. Please, you’re the only one who can help me, I need you.”
You watched him swallow hard at those last words, his eyes flickering from yours down to your lips and back up again.
He was staring now, shamelessly, not even trying to hide it. You used his obvious interest to lean in closer, so close he could almost feel your breath against his cheek and when you slowly and very deliberately licked your lips you could hear him bite back a quiet whimper.
You took another step forward and carefully pressed your body up against his. That’s when you felt it, undeniably, he was hard. You had barely touched him and yet he was rock hard in his stupid cargo pants.
You had him right where you wanted him and you could have sworn he was about to close that final distance between you two and pull you in for a kiss.
But then he leaned back and his thin lips curled up into a smug, annoyed grin.
“What are you playing at?” he asked.
“What do you mean? I’m not playing….”
“Stop lying to me, you stupid girl,” he growled and took a few steps back from you,”You say you want a tutor but you don’t give a shit about what I’m trying to teach you and now you want to…what….seduce me? How daft do you think I am?”
“I don’t think you’re daft at all!”
“I know this isn’t about math and it sure as hell isn’t about you wanting to get into my pants, girls like you don’t want nerds like me.”
“Girls like me?” you asked, staring at him with anger in your eyes,”Oh, you mean stupid girls like me? Listen, you little shit…”
“I meant pretty girls like you,” he interrupted you, shutting you up instantly.
He took a step closer again, towering over you and forcing you to lean against the book shelves behind you.
“What is it you want from me then?” he mused, as if he was asking the question more to himself and not you,”You’ve never paid any attention to me before this week…not until…I saw you scheming with Ben in the library a few days ago.”
Your eyes widened at his statement and it was enough for Michael to know he was onto something.
“I fucking knew it,” he shook his head and laughed,”What does that twat want from me this time, hmm?”
“Nothing,” you answered, too quickly.
“You’re a bad liar, girl.”
His stare was making you nervous, you wanted to blurt out everything to him and at the same time run away and never speak another word again. But there was no place to run from Ben and his ugly threats. Michael was your only ticket out of that bad spot.
He stepped back from you with a sigh,“Fine. Whatever. Tell your rich little friend that whatever you and him want from me he’s not going to get it, under any circumstances. Can you remember that or should I write it down for you?”
You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Michael’s harsh tone combined with the hopelessness of your situation was suddenly too much and you burst out into tears.
To your surprise Michael’s whole demeanor changed instantly and he rubbed his hand over his face with a heavy sigh.
You started crying,“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this shit, I’m so sorry, Michael.”
For a moment he just looked at you, your tears and desperation too real for him to ignore.
Then he leaned back against the book shelves next to you, not saying a word. You looked up at him through your teary lashes and it was the first time you could see real compassion in his blue eyes. ”What does he have on you?” he asked softly.
”We used to date, he has some…private material he’s threatening to release.”
“Fucking prick,” Michael spat out.
“Yeah, he really is and I’m an idiot for ever being with him,” you wiped at your tears and looked surprised when Michael reached into his pocket and handed you a handkerchief. It looked like the ones your grandma used to have and you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.
”Thanks,” you sobbed and used it to wipe your cheeks dry.
“So…what did he want you to do in return then?”
”He wants that internship at Charter Inc.”
Michael nodded knowingly,”Yeah, that one is mine.”
“I know,” you smiled weakly,”That’s why he…he wanted me to distract you.”
Michael scoffed,”Jesus fuck, what an idiot. There’s nothing on this earth he can do to keep me from getting that job.”
You nodded,”I know.”
And with that realization came more tears. You used Michael’s handkerchief to keep them at bay.
“Do you think he’d actually do it?” he asked,”Are they just empty threats?”
“I honestly don’t know what he’s capable of and I don’t want to find out.”
You both stayed quiet for a while. Michael didn’t make any attempts to comfort you or touch you, but he didn’t move from his spot right next to you either.
“What can I do?” he asked.
“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, Michael, this isn’t your problem, or your fight.”
He nodded,”Yeah, you’re right, it isn’t.”
You could feel your stomach drop in defeat.
“But,” he then added,”I’d really fucking hate to see a rich kid win in life.”
You couldn’t help but laugh through your tears.”Got any ideas?”
He thought about that for a little while and then he nodded,”We could…make him believe his plan is working? I mean, for now, until we can come up with something better.”
“How?”
“He won’t do anything as long as he believes you’re on board, yeah?”
“I guess not.”
“So we pretend that you’re…distracting me.”
You laughed bitterly at his choice of words.”He wants me to fuck you, that’s what he means by distracting you. You realize that, right?” you then blurted out and Michael snorted out loud but he regained his composure quickly.
“Then…I guess we pretend that you’re fucking me,” he said calmly, letting his eyes meet yours. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the good kind.
“Alright,” you nodded.
“Alright,” Michael repeated, keeping his eyes on you for a few moments too long before he eventually looked away and nervously pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling shyly,”When do we start then?”
#michael gavey x reader#michael gavey#michael gavey x you#michael gavey x female reader#ewan mitchell fanfic#michael gavey smut
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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦
Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader
synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.
warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol
wc: 6.5k words
a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)
this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't
na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi - spark
: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)
In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest
But all I do is live to hurt you soundless
Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go
I can never promise you tomorrow
The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine.
“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before.
“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words.
“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?”
His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.
The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel.
“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.”
“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen.
“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.
“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him.
“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”
Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now.
“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”
His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.
Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance.
'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his
This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is
You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.
Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you.
You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member.
“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”
“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”
You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.
“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?”
“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face.
“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for.
“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.”
“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?”
You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.
At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force.
“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying.
“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.”
You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described.
“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face.
“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.
I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.”
He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.
“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.”
But I'd give anything to stop time
And drive around Anaheim at sun down
And teach my mind to put you first
It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be.
“O'ì'en…”
He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either.
“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.”
Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself.
“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him.
“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?”
Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all.
“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?”
“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.”
“O'ì'en, no…”
“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.”
“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.
You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong.
But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage.
“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.”
You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today.
“I hope you forgive me one day.”
“Me, too.”
But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes
Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story
But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route
It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.
He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.
Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.
“Oh, how disappointing.”
The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption.
“Am I interrupting?”
You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.
“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.”
“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.
“Tìlor, I -“
“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will.
“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right�� yawne?”
“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.”
The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?
You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.
'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine
You can try to unearth this soul
I swear you'll hate what you find
“Why?”
“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.
“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”
“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”
“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“
“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.”
“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.
“Yeah? Is that what you think?”
And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.
“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.”
Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going.
One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.
“Fuck, i’m gonna -“
“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?”
“Argh, I-“
The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.
He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop.
“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”
And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last.
'Cause I am lost, but not in you
Yes, I am lost, but not in you
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project: make you love me (jyh) | seven.
♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist
—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.
—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa
—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut
—word count: 4.4k
—chapter content/warnings: cussing, oc teaches yunho a few moves hehe, subtle flirting and small signs of affection, yunho meets oc's mom and sis! (coincidentally) lol, mingi being weird again due to his loyalty with hwa, yeosang encourages yunho to just go for it 😭
Yunho swings his keychain around his finger, letting out a breath as he makes his usual trek to the back parking lot. He's exhausted, and he can't wait to just plop onto his bed and do.. nothing.
As he approaches the gym, he hears the once-subtle music now getting louder and louder— though, the rest of campus is quiet, the parking lots are quiet, gym much emptier than usual. When he passes the dance studio window, he sees you alone. Your music is blasting, you're figuring out choreography and cleaning steps up. Yunho can't help but stare a bit until he realizes how odd he must look through the window. So, he diverts his attention and begins to walk on, afraid of ruining your me-time.
"Yunho!" He turns over his shoulder, seeing you leaning near the window screen. "Hey you!"
"Hey." He stops and takes a few steps closer to you.
"You were just gonna pass without saying hi? I've barely seen you all week." You pout, and Yunho thinks it's the cutest thing the world.
"I'm sorry, it's been quite the week. But, you looked too focused, I didn't wanna interrupt."
"Not even! I could use the distraction." You motion for him to come inside. "Come! Unless you have other plans, then don't let me be a bother." You chuckle.
"Alright, if you say so." Yunho laughs a bit and walks towards the front desk, tapping his student ID card on the reader before walking in. He hasn't been to the gym in a minute, mainly because of how swamped he's been with homework and projects. He quickly peeks into the basketball courts, seeing there's open gym going on for those who want to play volleyball. He catches a glimpse of Soobin and Seungmin joining your other friends in a game, Chaery nowhere to be found.
He finally turns down the hallway and finds the dance studio, seeing you continuing to rehearse with the music booming in the room. He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, standing off to the corner to let you finish off your thought process this time around. Your moves flow together, fluidly shifting from one movement to the other— Yunho thinks you're pure art, even if he's not witnessing the entire piece right now.
"You can sit if you want." You tell him as you jog over to your phone and lower the volume.
"What're you working on?"
"Finalizing a part of our piece for a competition coming up soon."
"Competition, hm?" Yunho sits against the glass with one leg propped up, arm hanging loosely over it. "Don't you have a performance tomorrow?"
"I do." You laugh. "But, we wanted to do something a little different for the competition. It's something we've performed before. Just changing a few things around."
"I see."
"Where were you coming from? Library?" He nods.
"My usual. Why aren't you taking a break and playing with your friends?"
"I'm terrible at volleyball, I'll just make them lose and they'll be mad." You giggle. "Chaery is having dinner with her parents. They came down to visit."
"Yeah, I didn't see her around."
"Mhm. She'll probably be back later tonight." You yawn and try to shake off the exhaustion slowly hitting you. "So.. are you coming tomorrow?" You shyly ask him and all Yunho does is stupidly shrug in response.
"I'll try." And he wishes he could take that back the moment it slips out. Because he really does wanna go. He's just not sure how comfortable he'll feel. But he does. He wants to support you and be there for you. You've been nothing but patient and incredibly sweet to him, it's the one thing he could do.
He doesn't do this, though.
He's not really sure how to?
Should he just say congrats after the performance and give you a hug [which might turn into an awkward one-handed hug because he is who he is]?
Should he buy some flowers?
Should he wait for you with the flowers?
Should he buy some for Chaery too so she doesn't feel left out or anything? Because don't you two come in a package deal?
God, it's been so long for him. And he feels so pathetic.
"You promise?"
"Promise."
"Fair enough." You smile. "I just need to go through this a few more times before calling it a night. I gotta teach it to the group."
"You're okay with me around? Isn't it a secret?" You nod.
"Of course. The piece isn't a secret." You tilt your head and giggle. "Actually. Can I teach you a few steps?" Yunho laughs, ears a bright red tint.
"Teach me? I don't know how to dance, Y/N."
"Everyone does, especially once they learn a few steps." You hold out your hand. "Please? It'll be simple and quick." He sighs a bit and stands, slowly walking over to you.
"I don't know. As long as you don't make fun of me."
"I won't." You take his hand and lead him to the center of the room. You watch as he stands tall next to you, shaking his head and slightly creating some distance.
"Wait, I don't know. I-I really don't think I can—"
"Yunho." You look up at him and hold his wrist gently. "Just a few. You're gonna do great. Trust me?" He swallows the lump in his throat before silently nodding, letting you take the lead on teaching him a simple 8 count. He follows along easily, and he learns quick. You're surprised Yunho has never had any dancing history because with the way he moves, you would've believed he had been pursuing it just like you— as a passion, a hobby. You repeat the 8-count a few more times with him before you're blasting the music and having him join along with you. He gets a bit more comfortable, letting you playfully hit him when he messes up on purpose and gives you a look. But, there are other times when he'd reach for your hands and try to prevent your hit— holding your hand and laughing along with you.
"I'm done, I'm done. I swear I'll do it right this time." You slightly whine, letting his hand go to get back into position.
"Yeah, you better."
"I'm not the one with a competition!"
"Still!" He laughs.
"Okay, okay. Jeez, I didn't think I was gonna workout today." He smiles, a soft pink tint coloring his cheeks. He gladly works through the steps once more before stepping out and letting you do your thing, watching off to the side. He crosses his arms and nods in acknowledgement, softly clapping his hands when you've stopped dancing.
"I don't know how this is gonna work."
"Y/N, you're doing great. Seriously. It'll turn out amazing. You have a bit of time, don't be so hard on yourself."
"You think so?"
"You need to give yourself a lot more credit."
"Thank you, Yunho. Especially for letting me randomly teach you." He chuckles.
"It was fun, and I am honored." You giggle.
"Are you just going to head home?"
"Mhm. Be lazy. Think I can give myself that. Do you need a ride?" You shake your head.
"I'm here until Soobin and Seungmin finish."
"You sure you don't need a ride home?"
"Positive. I should really finish this anyway." You giggle before softly hitting him on the chest. "Hope you got a good workout today."
"Kinda, yeah. Probably won't do that for awhile."
"Have a good night, Yunho." You look up at him so sweetly that Yunho feels his knees buckle a bit. Even under the dim studio light, he finds you so, so pretty.
"Will you.. text me when you get home?" He scratches at his temple, unsure if he's coming off needy.
"Of course."
"Okay." Is all he says before grabbing his things, holding his keys in his hands. "Have a good night, Y/N. Don't practice too hard."
"I'll try not to." Yunho gives you a small nod before walking out of the studio. He's not sure if he'd ever say this out loud, but he feels something in his chest when he hears the door shut behind him— now creating a barrier between you and him. He pauses for a second, pondering if he should just sit in the studio and get more work done while you practiced, but he shakes it off and continues walking out of the gym facility.
No.
He was here to help you with literature. He didn't think it'd be anything outside of that. So no, he can't be too much for you right away. He doesn't want to be.
When Yunho gets home, Yeosang is in the kitchen making himself some food. Yunho greets him and brushes past to grab a cold bottle of unsweetened green tea from the fridge.
"Did you just finish from the library?"
"Kinda, yeah." Yunho takes a quick sip. "I, uh, saw Y/N while she was practicing so I hung out in there for a bit."
"Cute. She has another performance tomorrow, right?"
"Mhm, but she was practicing for their competition coming up soon."
"Shouldn't she be taking a break for the performance tomorrow?" Yunho shrugs.
"Her friends are playing volleyball." Yeosang chuckles.
"Are you going to go tomorrow?"
"Hm, I think so. I don't know."
"You should."
"Mm, I don't really go to these things."
"You can do one night for Y/N." Yunho nods.
"Yeah, I guess so. I probably will." He sighs. "I wanted to get her some flowers but I didn't wanna be too much."
"What? No. You wouldn't be. She'll appreciate that gesture."
"Maybe." Yunho lets out a small, pathetic laugh. He is definitely overthinking, and Yeosang is very aware.
"Let me know how it goes."
"Yup." Yunho bids him farewell before settling in his room.
The next day comes quick, and it's a blur for your team. You get to the auditorium bright and early, instantly doing a dry rehearsal and marking the stage before putting on some stage makeup and rehearsing with your performance outfit. It's been so busy that you haven't really gotten a chance to text Yunho back after his goodmorning text—
you: hi yunho, goodmorning! it's gonna be super busy today so i'm sorry if i don't text back right away. i hope i'll see you later, i'll be looking out for you in the crowd. ☺️
yunho: aw, morning! no worries, goodluck today 😊 you'll kill it!
Meanwhile, Yunho heads to the front of the building, quickly buying a ticket before heading indoors. Right before he enters the auditorium, he sees single roses being sold near the far right entrance of the auditorium. Yunho thinks to himself for a moment, wondering if it's a good idea to do this or not. He already settled on the fact that he wouldn't— just to play it safe. But somehow, he feels like this is a sign that he should do it.
Fuck it.
He lets out a breath before he maneuvers through the crowd, instantly handing the seller some cash. He quickly thanks her and makes his way inside, finding a seat in the middle— close enough to see you, but far enough to see the entire stage. He wants to make sure he sees your friends, and he wants to see the piece in its entirety. He lets out a breath, settling into the [uncomfy] chair with the program in his hand.
He flips through the page, reading through the various performances, seeing your group come up towards the end. Typically, he'd hate to sit through all of this. But, he knows you'd really appreciate him staying and supporting the entire show.
So, he sits. He waits. He supports.
But, he's eager to see you. He's eager to see you kill it on stage because he knows you will.
In the next 15 minutes or so, the lights dim in the auditorium, and the MC is beginning to kick off the night with a brief introduction, followed by the meaning behind tonight's concert and what it will be supporting. It takes off with a quick, and intense start— another dance group guesting and beginning the show.
Afterwards, it follows with some singing. A band playing their instruments. Traditional, cultural dancing. Solo stages.
Until the lights shine down on the stage, and he finally spots you, Chaery, your friends. You all hold your poses until the music starts playing loudly in the auditorium, surround sound speakers booming in their corners. You all start off strong, facial expressions properly conveying the intensity of the piece. It splits off into an all-girls piece, before the boys find their way in and it becomes one. All of your moves are pristine and sharp, and the entire piece flows cohesively. Yunho is in awe, and he's not even sure where to look first.
He regrets not having watched you earlier.
The piece is 5 minutes, but Yunho feels like it goes by way too quickly for his liking. The last bits to close the piece out makes the audience roar in screams and yells just as the lights dim and your figures are hurrying off the stage. Yunho claps, smiling big and wide after; feeling the adrenaline and excitement that is being shared amongst the entire room right now.
You killed it out there.
Yunho feels proud of you, and he's glad he got to see you on stage.
When the show closes out, everyone stands and begins to make their way out of the auditorium. Yunho matches the slow pace of the crowd as everyone continues to walk out and wait for their loved ones to come to the lobby. Yunho feels like he should wait here for you to arrive, but he sees a group of people push through the hallway doors on the right— screams erupting from the other side. Before he can even think about it, his feet are already taking him to the hallway, hoping he can find you there.
And luckily for him, he does.
He smiles to himself when he sees you down the hallway; fresh off the stage and looking beautiful as ever. A few people come to greet you and hug you, praising you and your friends for the great performance. Yunho keeps his hands behind his back as he walks closer, your eyes landing on him from past your friend's shoulder.
"Yunho!" You squeal, running to him. "You actually made it!"
"I did." He smiles.
"Sorry, I'm gross and sweaty."
"You look good, Y/N."
"Are you lying?" He laughs and shakes his head.
"No, never that." He shifts. "I.. have something for you?" He says in a cute, questioning tone just as he pulls out a single rose from behind his back. "You did great out there." He smiles at you, a subtle rose-tint growing on his cheeks.
"Yunho." You look at him, and at first, he's not really sure if he fucked up already. But, before he could let his thoughts consume him, you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. "You're so sweet. Thank you." Yunho takes you in before wrapping an arm around you. He does wrap the one arm around you tightly though, giving you a gentle squeeze before pulling away.
"Where's mine?!" Chaery playfully questions, but Yunho chuckles a bit and pulls out another rose from behind his back. He genuinely wanted to buy her one since she was your bestfriend. Chaery has always been nice to him, and it's the least he could do to show his appreciation for that, and for always taking care of you. Chaery gasps, pouting while taking the flower from Yunho's hand. "Oh my god, I was totally just kidding. You're so sweet, Yunho. Thank you." She pouts.
"It's nothing. You guys did really great up there." Yunho shifts his weight from one foot to another before digging his hands into his pockets.
"He is so cute, please Y/N." She turns to you and whines. "Please snatch him up."
"Can you quit?' You whisper harshly before Yunho is greeting Soobin and Seungmin, praising them for the successful piece. Suddenly, your mom and your sister come rushing through with a big bouquet in hand, your mom pulling you into a big bear hug.
"That piece was amazing! You guys did great!" Your mom praises you with a smile, brushing your hair out of your face before moving onto Chaery.
"Proud of you as always." Your older sister hands you the bouquet, eyeing the rose already in your hand. Her eyes go to you, Yunho's [who is back to observing on the side], then back to you. "I see you got a rose already?"
"Oh, uh." You shyly chuckle and tuck your flowers close to your chest. "This is Yunho. Yunho, my mom, my sister Leia."
"It's nice to meet you." Yunho swallows the lump in his throat, feeling like the world is caving in on him right at this moment. He should've expected your mom and sister to be here, why wouldn't they be? He just didn't expect to be introduced. Jesus Christ, Yunho. Get it together.
"A very tall and handsome one." Your mom says, making your sister and Chaery giggle. "It's nice to meet you, Yunho." She smiles at him.
"My parents wanna grab something to eat with everyone. Shall we get going?" Soobin comes towards you, your family and Chaery. You all nod, giving leverage for your mom, sister and Chaery to shift their attention towards him, Seungmin and the rest of the dance team. Yunho slowly steps closer to you again, a small, toothless smile on his face.
"Gonna go eat?"
"Mhm. You should join us!" He shakes his head.
"You should enjoy your dinner with your family and friends." You give him a tiny smile of acknowledgment.
"Thank you for coming, Yunho. Seriously." You chuckle and nod before raising the rose up. "And for this. I'll make sure to take really good care of it."
"Good." He tilts his head and quickly swipes his tongue over his lips. "Have a good dinner."
"I will. You too? Get something to eat, okay?" You gently set the flowers down before wrapping your arms around his neck for another quick hug. This time, Yunho can successfully wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close properly. He smells like.. woody sage, with a mix of his laundry detergent. You slowly pull away, keeping your gaze on him while subtly biting on your bottom lip. "I'll text you later."
"Okay." Is all he responds with. You find it hard to pull yourself away from him, like some kind of force that wants to keep yourself attached to him; a force that keeps you wanting more from Yunho. But, you're pulled out of your thoughts when Chaery yells your name, begging for you to hurry so everyone could leave.
So, you catch up with your friends, your family; happily holding your flowers on the way out, while Yunho's left here, wondering what to do.
Suddenly feeling like he's alone, like he's missing you even though you've only left him a few seconds ago.
Why the fuck is he feeling this way already?
He shakes it off and leaves, brushing through the people that are still crowding around the front of the auditorium. He has to snake past a few, feeling awkward at the random contact he has to make just to get by—
"Ayo!" He hears a familiar voice call out just as he's made it through the crowd. He stops and turns over his shoulder, spotting Mingi coming towards him. "Dude, I didn't know you were coming."
"Uh, yeah." He gives Mingi a dap. Looking past Mingi's shoulder, he sees Seonghwa and San looking over— probably talking shit about him as they speak. To each their own. Yunho could really care less what Seonghwa thinks about him. He must be livid over you calling it quits, but who else is there to blame for that? He didn't cherish you while he had you, now he feels like he has the right to be upset? He feels like he has the right to be mad at you, at Yunho?
Please.
"Were you here the entire time?" Mingi asks.
"Yeah, I told Y/N I'd come to watch."
"Oh, that's cool." Mingi just nods, but Yunho knows he's thinking about other stuff. Probably his loyalty to Seonghwa, how much he wants to tell him not to pursue you while Seonghwa is sulking. Shit like that. "Yeah, we dropped by to catch their performance too. It was sick."
"Yup, they were great. She did great." Yunho responds, hoping to egg Mingi on in one way or another. If he wants to ask, he should just ask. Lo and behold:
"Cute. So, is that a thing now?"
"Odd question considering Seonghwa has feelings for her." Yunho turns it around on him since, you know, dude tried to talk him out of it the last time they spoke.
"They called it quits. I was assuming it was because of you. Hwa's been all sulky about it." Yunho chuckles a bit hearing the way that it was phrased. They.
"Hm." Yunho hums, no longer wanting to entertain this any further. They could keep guessing all the want, Yunho could really care less about Seonghwa and his feelings. "Anyway, I need to head out. Catch you later?"
"Hop on Valorant tonight!" Mingi easily switches the topic just as Yunho is about to turn on his heel and walk the hell away.
"Maybe. We'll see." Yunho gives him one last nod before walking off to his car. Mingi heads back to his friends, greeting a few more people on the way over.
"I'll never understand why you're friends with him." Seonghwa furrows his brows at him and shakes his head.
"He's cool people." Mingi shrugs, unsure of how else to respond. Mingi really did enjoy being friends with Yunho. They don't talk too often, and their conversations aren't typically heavy or incredibly insightful, but Mingi likes the good vibes he gets from Yunho. He's genuine and he's real, and Mingi knows that's hard to find over the years. Don't get him wrong; he feels the same with Seonghwa and San. They mainly have more of the same interests as Mingi does, which is why they're stuck to each other like glue. They like partying and going out, they like drinking. Getting into wild shit from time to time. You know how it goes.
Overall, Mingi still respects Yunho, and he finds comfort in their friendship. It's different from the rest.
Yunho's drive home is quiet, but pleasant. OG Heartthrob by Majid Jordan comes up on the rotation, and he finds himself lowly singing along. His thoughts start wandering over to you, smiling a bit to himself like a dumbass when he remembers how happy you looked on stage. How happy you looked seeing him. How happy you looked when he gave you the rose.
You look good happy.
And Yunho loves being the reason you're happy.
He kinda wishes he could keep being the reason you're happy.
He kinda misses you.
But, he shakes off the thoughts when he pulls into the lot and passes your building. He shouldn't be jumping to conclusions, no. For all he knows, you're probably just being incredibly nice to him, and you're probably still trying to find the right words to let him down easily.
You probably wouldn't feel the same way as him.
Yunho lets out a sigh when he pulls into his usual spot, sitting in the driver's seat for a minute even though the car is set to park. He's so torn about this. Because as much as he wants to say it out loud, he's afraid to.
"How'd it go?" Yunho hears as soon as he steps through the door. To his surprise, it's another night when Yeosang is sitting on the couch, indulging in a show. He's eating some takeout laid out on the coffee table in front of him while Yunho sets his things aside.
"Good. They did really good."
"I've seen a bit of a performance before. They are pretty good." Yeosang looks over at him as Yunho leans near the patio door, trying to make sense of the show Yeosang has on.
"Mhm."
"How come you aren't hanging out?"
"She's eating with the team and their families. I actually met her mom and sister earlier." Yeosang's eyes widen a bit.
"No shit?" Yeosang smirks. "That's serious."
"What do you mean?" Yunho chuckles confusingly. "People meet family members all the time."
"Yeah, but you know. I always feel like people get introduced if they mean something to the person." Yunho cocks a brow up, listening to Yeosang's reasoning. He can be quite the person, but Yunho does enjoy their conversations when they come up. "She didn't have to introduce you. But, cause you mean something to her, she did."
"Uh, that or maybe just cause her sister noticed the rose I bought her?"
"My guy." Yeosang smiles and shifts topics. "You did it?"
"I wanted to." Yunho shrugs.
"When are you hanging out with her next?"
"She invited me to this little movie night thing they're doing soon."
"Honestly, I say go for it."
"Go for what?"
"Y/N."
"She just ended things with Seonghwa."
"Okay, but that wasn't even considered anything in my very honest opinion. Just a good girl who got wrapped into a dude's schemes. Nothing more, nothing less." Yeosang looks at him. "I think she likes you too."
"I never said—" Yeosang rolls his eyes.
"You didn't have to. I can see it. And by the sounds of it, you seem to make her genuinely happy. She wants you around, she wants to hang out. She enjoys having you around. Don't skip on the chance." Yeosang stands and stretches. "Seonghwa's loss. It's not your problem." Yunho quietly nods.
"Thanks."
"Yup." Yeosang switches the TV off. "Anyway, I gotta finish some stuff before I call it a night."
"Not hopping on League tonight?"
"Nah. For once." Yeosang chuckles and walks off to his room, gently shutting the door behind him. Yunho pushes himself off of the wall and tidies up in the living room a bit before walking into his own room. He really doesn't find himself getting hungry right now, and feels like he could just use this time to be lazy— catch up on a few shows or movies he wanted to watch. He grabs his pajamas and heads to the bathroom to get freshened up and ready for bed, shutting off the lights in the hallway before retreating into his room for the night. He slips himself under the covers, sheets messily pulled up to his chest. He scrolls through his phone, wondering if he should check up on you or let you know that he'll be here watching a movie until you're home.
He doesn't wanna do too much, but he just misses your company.
You.
Yeosang is right.
He should go for it.
Yunho has given himself enough time to move on and work on himself over the years. In the end, he does wanna be the reason why you smile. He does wanna be the reason why you're happy.
♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintific @primoppang
#yunho fanfic#yunho series#jeong yunho series#jeong yunho fanfic#ateez series#ateez fanfic#ateez#yunho#yunho x reader#jeong yunho x reader#ateez x reader#ateez imagines#yunho smut#yunho fluff#yunho angst#jeong yunho smut#jeong yunho fluff#jeong yunho angst#kpop fanfic#kpop imagines#hwaslayer: project make you love me
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Lick 👅 with Frank castle 👀👀👀
To make up for my misunderstanding last time, this one is mostly about Frank’s tits lmao I also got carried away so this took longer than I expected (I know there’s a lot of biting in this too, I just have my own kinks for Frank and I can’t help it lol)
It began with a little impromptu ice cream party.
Frank had brought home a big bottle of chocolate syrup for some dessert recipe you were going to try making tomorrow. You dug out the big tub of ice cream left over from the last birthday you’d celebrated and Frank managed to reach the jar of cherries that had found its way to the very back of the fridge’s top shelf. You also snagged the small bottle of strawberry syrup that was stuck amongst the other condiments, glad to add more options, even if the whole selection was still pretty basic. No bananas or waffle cones, not even a can of whipped cream.
It was nice, chatting and laughing, making sugary abominations before settling on the couch and putting on an old show you’d been rewatching lately.
You’d both overestimated how much could fit in your bowls, which became a slight problem when everything started melting.
Frank got a glob of ice cream on his shirt because it was barely solid enough to stay on a spoon, and your generous syrup drizzle had dripped down the sides of your bowl and onto you. You missed a good five minute chunk of the episode while trying to clean the drops off the coffee table and rinse some of the stickiness from your hands.
Once everything was reasonably cleaned up, you paused the show and followed Frank into the bedroom so you could both change out of your (hopefully not permanently stained) clothes.
That should’ve been a pretty quick and easy process, but you were feeling giddy and happy and maybe a little frisky.
A very nice night combined with a suddenly shirtless Frank Castle often had that effect.
“Honey?”
Frank didn’t look up from where he was trying to pick a shirt from his drawer, but he tilted his head to let you know he was listening. “Hmm?”
You toyed with the hem of your own shirt, eyes tracing the lines of his back and shoulders. “Would you be willing to try something really quick?”
He paused in his search and you could see the beginnings of a smirk on his face as he tilted it just a little bit more. “I might be.”
“It might get a little…sticky,” you told him, taking a step closer. “And I kinda lied about it being really quick.”
He pushed the drawer shut and turned to face you fully, arms crossed over his bare chest. “Listening.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing that he was completely aware of what he was doing.
He wore that small, self-satisfied smile he got whenever he guessed where your mind was going.
“No restraints,” you said, silently pleased when his brows lifted in mild surprise. You loved tying him up. “But I do want you to lay down with your hands over your head.”
“No touching?”
“Not unless I say so.”
He nodded, his gaze flitting to follow every move you made as you stepped closer again. “And?”
You made a show of trying to decide, lips pursed. “I think… I’ll make some art,” you drawled, taking a step. “I’m gonna go get those bottles of syrup” another step “and use you as my canvas.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Do I get anything out of this deal?”
“My endless love and devotion,” you said sweetly. With a shrug, you added, “Maybe an orgasm.”
A small grin pulled at his lips even as he shook his head. “I’ll grab a towel.”
You beamed and quickly went to get the syrup back out.
When you got back to the bedroom, a very nice sight was there to greet you.
Frank had stripped down to his boxer briefs and was lounging on the bed, towel already spread out beneath him.
You took a moment to simply admire him, mouth watering at the thought of what you were about to do. Cool, sticky-sweet syrup on warm skin.
“Didn’t know if you wanted me fully nude,” he said, a hand tucked behind his head as he looked you up and down.
You shook your head, stepping forward to put the bottles on the bed. “This is good, for now.” You stripped down as well and climbed onto the bed with him, scooting the syrup bottles onto the towel so they would be within easy reach. Swinging a leg over him, you straddled his hips and rested your hands on his broad chest. “I always get so many ideas when I see you like this,” you told him, fingertips pressing lightly into his skin. “Makes it hard to focus when we first get started.”
“Just means there’ll be more fun in the future.” He slid both hands up above his head, arms flexing with the move, muscles in his chest and shoulders shifting in the process.
It did nothing to help you focus.
He was only doing what you’d told him to.
You cupped his face in your hands and looked him in the eye. “I know you’re the hottest man alive and everything, but can you give me a second to think because I had a plan.”
His eyes widened. “You told me to lay like this,” he defended, laughter edging into his voice.
“Yeah, but you’re being sexy about it.”
“Because we’re about to have sex!”
“No,” you corrected, “I’m painting. You’re making it about sex.”
Frank rolled his eyes but said nothing.
You took it as an opportunity to figure out where you wanted to start. You had a vague plan for what you wanted to ‘paint,’ but the first move wasn’t as clear. Picking up the strawberry syrup, you popped the cap off and leaned over Frank, assessing the planes of his chest, his stomach, his neck.
Your gaze settled on his collarbones. Tipping the bottle, you traced a careful line across his skin from the curve of one collarbone to the other. It ended a little shaky and you bit your lip. You could leave it. You could wipe it off with a corner of the towel. Or…
Leaning down, you swiped your tongue through the end of the line of syrup. It was still cool, and sweet as candied fruit.
Frank stilled, breath halting for a moment before he exhaled slowly as you rose back up. “Didn’t know you were gonna tease me,” he grunted.
You scoffed as you fixed the line. “I’m not teasing. You’d know if I was teasing.” Squinting, you considered your next move.
“Well, I was expecting something like temperature play but sticky, and now you’re licking me.” He shrugged. “I feel like licking is a tease.”
“A tease for what? Biting?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
You scowled at him. “Rude.”
He grinned. “Never said it was a bad thing.”
With a huff, you closed the strawberry syrup and grabbed the chocolate. You had it open and upturned quickly, squeezing a generous amount of the syrup onto the center of his chest.
He jolted, letting out a curse as goosebumps rose on his skin. “Jesus! That’s fucking cold.”
“I thought you wanted temperature play,” you said sweetly. You didn’t miss the fact that, even with the shock of cold, he had kept his hands up. He was usually very clear about when he wasn’t on board with something, and his continuing to follow instructions was a good sign that he liked where things were going.
Leaning down, you slowly dragged your tongue through the chocolate until you could taste the salt of his skin. Cold, followed by warm.
He was still again, chest not moving at all while you licked him clean. As you sat up, there was the faintest shiver that ran through him, his eyes dark.
“Do you like when I do that, honey?”
Taking a deep breath, chest expanding under your hand, he nodded. “Yeah.” The word was an exhale, long and low.
You abandoned the idea of making some big, specific design. This was better.
Making another line, this one from the center of his chest and across a pectoral, you gave multiple little licks along the length of chocolate, taking long enough that he couldn’t hold his breath like he had before. Once the syrup was gone, you pressed a kiss to his chest. “Good boy.”
“Fuck,” he grunted, adam’s apple bobbing.
You swapped back to the strawberry and made a circle around his nipple. The sound of the sheets shifting made you look up from your work, only to find that Frank had a tight grip on the pillows above his head. The sight made you smile. You kept your eyes on his face as you trailed after the syrup with the tip of your tongue.
A small, desperate sound left him and a twisted kind of delight warmed your chest. Letting your teeth graze the peak of his nipple had the sound drawing out until he was breathless. You kissed and licked and nipped at his skin for a long while, your hands soothing and gentle whenever he got restless from the sensations. Then, you switched to the other side of his chest.
You still made little dots of syrup here and there, but it had become more of an afterthought than the main focus. Frank became more sensitive every moment, squirming and shifting under your mouth and hands, making low, debauched noises and higher pleas for more.
It wasn’t until you bit harder into the meat of his pec, just beside his nipple, that he actually arched up, his loud moan filling the small bedroom.
Your whole body prickled with heat, the steady waves of arousal you’d been feeling coming to a crest at the sound. Rising up, you caught sight of his flushed face, his heaving chest all speckled with little bruises. He no longer had a death grip on the pillows, his arms resting limp on either side of his head instead. You glanced down and any doubt you’d had vanished at the sight of a wet spot on his dark underwear.
Cupping his jaw, you turned his face toward you. “I thought you were just humoring me with the biting, honey. I didn’t know you liked it so much that you’d come if I did it hard enough.”
“I didn’t—didn’t know,” he huffed.
You traced your other hand over his abused chest, brushing across one of his nipples and making him groan. “Or maybe you just got so sensitive that you couldn’t help yourself,” you mused. You’d have to remember that. Making him come without taking his pants off, without even having to touch him below the belt in any way, could lead to some interesting scenarios in the future.
He blinked heavy eyes up at you. “Can I bring my arms down?”
“Yes.” His shoulders would probably be stiff for a while. Maybe a little massage would help. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”
A hand on your thigh kept you from getting up off of him. Frank was shaking his head. “Let me take care of you first,” he insisted.
You smiled and leaned down to kiss him for being such an unrelenting sweetheart. “I’ll make a deal with you,” you told him. “We can either stay in bed, all sticky and sweaty, while you take care of me. Have a great time until we both realize we got syrup all over the bed because we rolled off of the towel. Then we have to strip the sheets and remake the bed. Or,” you ran your fingers through his sweat damp hair, “we kill two birds with one stone and hop in the shower. You can take care of me in there, hmm? Get clean while we get filthy?”
He hummed in approval. “I like your idea better.”
You laughed and pulled him upright. “I thought you might.”
~*~*~*~
Prompts & Headcanons Masterlist
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20 Questions for Writers
Thanks @mrsmungus for the tag. ❤️
❣️How many works do you have on AO3?
13 total, including three fanart art gifts. The only writing I have is my current work. I'm bringing the old FFN stories over on another account.
❣️What is your total AO3 word count?
834,995- 1 million before the year's end would be nice.
❣️What fandoms do you write for?
So far only Boy Meets World. The fanart gifts have been in other fandoms.
❣️What are your top five fics by kudos?
Autumn in Philadelphia Trilogy- 243
Flashbacks- 109
Christmas to Last a Lifetime- 94
Not too shabby for such a massive series with an OC as a main character.
❣️Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes. Eventually.
Ever single comment is incredibly important to me and I don't always have the spoons to respond the way I want to. Rather than rush a response, I wait until I can give it my full attention. There are times, however, when certain comments appear to go answered for months. Those are comments from people I am in touch with privately and have already thanked. I will respond to those in time as well.
❣️What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
The Darkest Night without question.
❣️What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
At this point, probably Christmas to Last a Lifetime.
❣️Do you get hate on your fic?
Is having someone throw a tantrum in your comments hate?
The writer who did this was upset over how the first part of AiP ended because they did not read the tags or summary. They also complained about my OC being better than theirs and whined about liking Audrey more as though at 11 years old I created with Aud malicious intent to hurt them 20+ years later. 🙄
This was the person who also tried to push me out of the fandom, harassed me, and stole my work.
So, hate, no. Immature, entitled behavior, yes.
❣️Do you write smut?
No it's not my thing to read or write. My story is canon compliant and I'm staying true to the content of the show as well. Since it's a 90s kids' sitcom, situations were only dealt with to a certain degree.
❣️Do you write crossovers?
Technically. lol The AiP trilogy is a crossover with BMW and its sequel show, Girl Meets World, but since it's in the same universe I don't count it.
I am in the works of doing a real crossover that I'm really excited about, hopefully soon.
❣️Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yes. See the hate on fics response.
I debated how much to say since my socials are still being monitored but you know what, I don't care.
This person stole big chunks of my work from three of my stories and readers have noticed. That's how I became aware of it. Two readers brought it to my attention and just recently another mentioned it also.
I've dealt with it thanks to my dear friends who have had my back through this year + long ordeal.
And ngl, it was satisfying to see her panic and meltdown when the report was submitted and rush her ending. The subsequent attempts to cover her tracks have been popcorn worthy as they have been both comical and pathetic.
Anyone who knows me will tell you I'm too nice and give too much benefit of the doubt which is why no one outside of my friends' circle has seen the massive report on the theft and harrassment.
However, should you dear [REDACTED] try it again, I'm holding onto that report and won't be so nice the second time around. It won't be your friend who's been asking for the link since December 8th that I'll give it to either.
❣️Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not to my knowledge.
❣️Have you ever co-written a fic?
Not yet!!! But soon and I'm so excited.
❣️What's your all-time favorite ship?
As for canon ship, they change all the time, but currently it's
❣️What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
At this point it's looking like Birthday Wishes. lol I mean, I have it outlined to the end and the next chapter is almost ready to go, but I'm prioritizing Saudade and have little time for BW, unfortunately.
❣️What are your writing strengths?
I'm not sure. May be characterization? Possibly world building and character development.
❣️What are your writing weaknesses?
Conciseness. lol Also SPAG editing. My brain skips words like crazy when writing and even editing. No matter how many times I go over things, I miss so much.
❣️Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I avoid this personally because I know enough that I'd mess it up. And I only know Swedish which isn't really a language that figures into my work naturally.
As for fics I'm not writing, it really depends on how it's done.
❣️First fandom you wrote for?
Boy Meets World. First published was Labyrinth.
❣️Favorite fic you've ever written?
Ah, how to chose. Autumn in Philadelphia trilogy. I can't get anymore specific than that. lol
No pressure tags to play for: @axolotlsupremacyowo @tsunderesalty @amberlide @winterlovesong1 @justanotherpersonwhowrites @obscureobsidiandraws @stealing-your-kittens @bees-and-sunshine @ligercat
If anyone would like to be included in the tags, please let me know and I'll be sure to get you next time.
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2023 writing self evaluation
I was tagged by the lovely @neondiamond, thank you!! I was also almost tagged by @lululawrence who texted me but I was already asleep lol.
1. List of works published this year:
In order of posting, these are the 17 fics I published:
April:
saw some things on the other side [61K, Larry, written for @onedirectionbigbang]
May:
(now I realize that the world outside) it's bigger than me [3,5K, written for @faithinthefutureficfest]
let's get naked and explore (our inner secrets) [8K, Zouis, written for @wankersday]
June:
the missing piece that makes me fit [17K, Zouiam, written for @zouisfics]
we will get another day (to begin again) [1,8K, Ziam]
July:
rain makes the flowers grow [1,1K, Larry, ficlet friday]
a life that's lived without you [1,1K, Ziam, ficlet friday]
August:
and there's no one to blame [1,8K, Larry, ficlet friday]
You don't have to say "I love you", to say I love you [1,5K, ficlet friday]
I'm falling again [2,2K, Larry, ficlet friday]
like a moth into a flame [5,4K, Zouis, written for @wordplayfics]
September:
I'll Run (Run to You) [1,1K, Larry, written for @wordplayfics]
like a bridge over troubled water (I will lay me down) [6,4K, written for @wordplayfics]
(don't you ever) hope for something else [5,4K, Ziam, written for @wordplayfics)
you try to stop it tumbling (but on and on it goes) [2,7K, Lirry, written for @wordplayfics]
October:
when love gets involved [666, Larry, written for @1dtrickortreatfest]
find a way (to send me a sign) [666, Larry, written for @1dtrickortreatfest]
December:
Santa Baby (one little thing I really need) [3K, Larry, written for @parmahamlarrie for the @1dcreatorclubhouse holiday exchange]
In total, including works that I haven't published yet, I've written 129.843 words in 2023.
2. Work you are most proud of (and why):
I always really struggle with my Big Bang, and this year was no different. There was a lot of math involved, and a lot of schedules to make sure that the time travel all worked and the dates were accurate. I am really proud of how it turned out though, and the art (by the wonderful @monpetithl) is absolutely stunning.
3. Work you are least proud of (and why):
I suppose by default I'm 'least proud' of some fics, since I'm more proud of others, but in general, I'm very proud of everything I published this year.
4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:
This is from (now I realize that the world outside) it's bigger than me
His throat feels dry and his face looks flushed, and there’s a moment where he contemplates dunking his head under the tap, but he doesn’t want to keep the fans waiting, even if he knows that his band is excellent at keeping the crowd entertained.
Or at least, they usually are. But right now, heading through the hallway back to the stage, all he can hear is silence.
Louis feels his heartbeat kick up a notch, and even though he knows that it’s ridiculous and highly implausible, there’s a brief moment where he wonders if everyone has just up and left. Maybe they’ve had enough. Maybe they only came here to see if he was willing to confirm the rumours, and now that he hasn’t, they’re leaving.
His palms are sweating, making him wipe them on his jeans, and it’s only when the band starts playing the intro to Bigger Than Me that they had come up with for the tour that Louis has the courage to step back onto the stage.
He has just opened his mouth for the first line – when somebody told me I would change – when it sinks in what he’s looking at.
Where the crowd is usually colourful, little rainbow flags showing up throughout the songs, or being held up en masse during a fan project for Only the Brave, it’s almost muted now, blacks and whites and greys.
And purple.
It is a sea of flags. A sea of ace flags.
Louis is vaguely aware that the band has started the intro for the third time. He can hear the cheers, the chants, can see the banners that are being held up by people on the balcony. We love you Louis, they read. We need you and you’ve got us.
His blood is rushing through his ears and he’s pretty sure he’s about two seconds from crying, and there is no way in hell that he’s going to be able to sing this song right now. It’s not even because it’s one of the harder songs in his set and he can feel his throat closing up. But he feels like he needs to acknowledge this. Because while he might not acknowledge it in the press, might play coy, these are his fans. These are the people that get him. The people that understand and support and love him, and they’re right. He’s got them. No matter what else, he’s got these people in his corner.
5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:
So my favourite review wasn't actually written. It was a friend of mine, at the concert in Paris, locking eyes with me during Bigger Than Me, and the two of us sharing a moment because we knew.
6. A time when writing was really, really hard:
Honestly, a lot of the year. I've written on something every month, but I've had months where I barely made 5K, if that. I've also had periods where my health was just utterly shit, and periods where I was too busy (like in November, which I mostly spent hanging out with the amazing @chaotic-bells)
7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:
Well, it is written but not published, but something happened in my Big Bang for 2024 where I was like "really?? this is what you're going with??" and I guess you'll have to find that moment in my fic when it posts.
8. How did you grow as a writer this year:
I'm honestly not sure I did, though I feel like I wrote a lot more short fics this year, so I suppose in that regard I grew by being able to write shorter things.
9. How do you hope to grow next year:
I mostly just hope to continue being able to write, continue loving writing, because for a while this year I wasn't sure if I wanted to continue being a writer in this fandom. But I got lovingly told that there was no way I wasn't doing the Big Bang next year, and then I got matched up with an amazing artist (hiii @whatagreatproblemtohave!) so that definitely helped in getting my mojo back.
10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):
I had wonderful guidance in the form of @londonfoginacup who told me a) you are not dropping out of the big bang and b) how about you rewrite the fic in Zayn's perspective, which has helped A LOT. I've also had an absolutely wonderful friend in @beardyboyzx who has read through a lot of my fics, has offered advice, a sounding board, and anything I could ask for. My beta, as always, is the wonderful @foullovehideout who is just the best person I could ask for. I had such a wonderful time seeing them again this year too.
And then there's the people that I've written with! Most notably, @jacaranda-bloom who is my standard writing buddy, though we've not been able to write together as often as last year, she's still helped me stay committed to my writing and I wouldn't have been able to publish as many fics if it weren't for our sprints.
Lastly, there's the beautiful people from the @1dcreatorclubhouse who have been just wonderful and a great source of joy and comfort.
11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:
Honestly it always does. Mostly this year in the aro/ace characters, because they are me and I am them.
12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:
I don't think it's new, really, but a) write what you want to write and b) don't forget that writing is a muscle, it needs to be trained just like anything else. You can't expect the same ease that you felt while writing daily when you end up not having been able to write for a while. Give yourself grace, and above all, believe in yourself and the stories you want to tell. They'll be loved by so many people!
13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:
Definitely my Big Bang for 2024. It's a struggle and really outside of my wheelhouse, but I'm excited to see where it ends up going. I am also super intrigued by the possible 1daroacefest that @red-pandaaa was running a poll for (you can vote here) so depending on when it runs I definitely want to participate. And I'm thinking I might dabble in some F1 fic next year!
14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)
I am going to tag the wonderful @beardyboyzx because I need to read their answers. And I am tagging @voulezloux and @reminiscingintherain too!
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Hey You!
Ok I was just infatuated with your sneak peak for GC Ch. 25 omg. I had to look at it over and over again since yesterday. Really I love your AI art for this series. This is exactly how I picture the boys in my head. Sirius' hair I'm dying. I've already spent my time using AI to create portraits of them, and it was just rubbish. Maybe I'm not advanced enough to use it properly. But I just had a look at you last art again and I just have to ask you! I have so many questions. Which tools do you use to create it? Do you rework the pics with other software like Photoshop or something? And most important, and propably the most improper question: what do you tell the AI to do exactly? You don't have to answer this one. I don't want to steal your style or anything, I'd just like to know how you get them pictured so accurate you know? And how much time do you spend in average to be satisfied with a picture to publish it for GC?
Yeah I hope I'm not rude asking you this, but I'm a big fan of your work 😭
Have a nice week! 🤍
I find it hilarious I got this question just when I was fighting with AI to do what I wanted it to do lol.
There are a lot of questions, so I'll try to be as detailed as possible. I talked about the AIs I used on this post. But basically, I recommend Bing's Image Creator that's powered by Dall-e 3.
I do rework the pics, not always, but AI always seems to confuse hair colours, gives Sirius a sandy brown and Remus black, so I do find myself switching that often (I use things like picsart, facelab, procreate and makeup+ for this). I have also done some face altering things here and there, especially when the faces don't look exactly like I want them to, for example in this one:
I wasn't quite satisfied with Sirius' face so I altered the features a little more so that they looked exactly like they looked in my head. This minor alterations I find myself doing rather often on the pictures that will be the official ones.
Now the time I spend until I'm satisfied varies, sometimes the AI image is perfect and I use it straight, sometimes I have try a few times over and over until I get the exact result I want, and that takes much more time. Maybe like 30-40 minutes to get the image and the side (aesthetic) pics I add to the sides.
Now, the most important question, what do I say? Again it varies, sometimes I find myself tweaking and altering things arounf until I get exactly what I want. For this image in particular I said something like this:
16 year old Remus Lupin (sandy blond hair, golden-brown eyes, scars on his face, handsome)holding back a 16 Sirius Black 16 year old Sirius black (long curly hair, delicate & soft features, pretty and handosme, grey-blue eyes). Remus has his hand in Sirius shoulder, they both look tense, like they want to stop a fight.
Defense against the dark arts classroom. realistic art.
I remember I changed it later, to Hogwarts classroom and students standing behind but, once I get the basics of the composition I tweak things around until I have exactly what I want.
Now I find AI has some issues with side profiles, maybe I haven't cracked it yet, but I spent all my energy on Bing trying to get the right composition for an image for next week's episode and it was not cooperating with me.
I asked for this:
16 year old Remus Lupin (sandy brown hair, golden-brown eyes, scars on his face, handsome) and young Sirius black (long curly hair, delicate & soft features, pretty and handosme, grey-blue eyes, gryffindor). Remus covers Sirius mouth with his hand and he is pressing his chest onto Sirius’, they’re front to front (we see their profiles), foreheads almost touching . Restricted section of the library. they’re hiding from someone. realistic art.
And kept getting Remus standing behind Sirius:
Don't get me wrong, I loved most of this, they look amazing! But it wasn't exactly my vision. Even wasted $15 usd on DALL·E hoping it would make it better but I was very disappointed (Bing is so much better and FREE).
Eventually, I got one image that did exactly what I wanted and I'm currently reworking it to make it exactly what I want, we'll see how it goes in the end.
But yeah, I've spent almost all day working on this (using my free time at work), and only one out of all worked, so time spent on it really, really varies.
Hope you find this helpful darling, and if you managed to get the image I've struggling with to work, it'd be really cool if you shared it with me.
Read Gilded Constellations
#ask lilly#lilly talks#marauders era#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#moony#padfoot#prongs#sirius black#sirius x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius x you#sirius x y/n#remus x y/n#remus x you#remus x reader#remus one shot#sirius black one shot#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x y/n#wolfstar x you#sirius black x fem!reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#moony x reader#moony x padfoot#moony x you
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r u a noah kahn enjoyer? not sure if ur taking requests rn but northern attitude for ludwig
oh not this song make me feel a lot of emotions 😳 okay.
listen. i've never heard this song until you suggested it. first of all, thank you for the suggestion. second of all, my heart vomited this up but i like it.
there will be AT LEAST a part 2 because when i got to where i got to i was like okay time to put it down and look at this again tomorrow. this is my version of putting down a piece of art to look at mistakes tomorrow, except i'll be writing more tomorrow.
-- PART 1 --
You and Ludwig hadn't seen each other in a few years, a fall out due to graduation and time. It's funny, they say you'll lose the friends you made in high school but the ones in college are friends for life, yet here you were with one of your friends from high school asking you how you knew Ludwig.
"We went to college together. We were study buddies, how do you know Ludwig?"
"He's a streamer - how do you," she stopped and put the picture frame down. "How do you not know that? You're online, like, all the time?" You shrugged. You were on your computer all the time but you worked on graphic design, you weren't necessarily on the internet. Half the time you just listened to music.
The curiosity gets to you though, would he remember you? You certainly remembered him - plenty of nights in one of your rooms, working on homework together, a night or two drinking shitty wine and watching a movie. A love found but lost.
you: hey ludwig not sure if you still have my number but we were friends in college, heard you are a big streamer now, good use of an english degree lol
An olive branch, a life line, even. You put your phone down, either he'd delete it because you seem like some random fan or he had your number blocked. Within minutes though, you had a reply.
Ludwig: how could i forget you i wouldn’t have passed biology without you. glad SOMEONE appreciates my english degree; usually i’m roasted for it 💀
You laughed. You made fun of him for it from the moment you met him, it made sense that everyone else did too. Conversation flowed easily. You couldn't remember the last time you laughed so hard, and honestly, he couldn't either. It was easy for you two to fall back into a rhythm, like it had only been a weekend apart.
Ludwig: would you ever want to get lunch or something?
He would never admit to how long it took to get the courage to ask, just as you would never admit how little thought you put into your 'yes of course!' reply.
--
Just a few days later and you were walking into a little café with him standing up to greet you and banging his knee into the table, yelping.
"Oh my god you didn't have to stand, I'm not the president," you laughed, crossing the distance and embracing him in a long awaited hug. He returned it, shrugging off your comment and for the first moment of many today, it felt like nothing had changed at all. Ludwig's arms tight around you, he still smelled like the same mix of deodorant and cologne. Something akin to a forest, teakwood... maybe birch. Something generic but home to you.
"It's good to see you," his voice was quiet in your hair, almost lost. There was a pounding in his chest that made his hands sweat and when you pulled away he anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. You both sat, your bag sliding between your feet at the table and conversation flowed like a waterfall.
How has life been? How are your folks? Do you still talk to anyone from school? How do you like streaming? What's been the best part of the experience? Are you in love with anyone? What do you do now, for work? Do you like it? Do you still go to the movie theater? Do you still think of me when you watch Crimson Peak?
"Do you still have that stuffed chipmunk I won you?" He leaned back in his seat and knocked his feet into yours. Suddenly, the embarrassment bubbled up onto your face, cheeks getting hot-hot-hot and he noticed. "If you don't it's okay."
"No I- I do. I uh," you felt like you were going to pass out, Ludwig leaned forward and rested his head in his hands, a shit-eating grin sliding onto his face. "I still sleep with it? It just. Lives on my bed." He wanted to tease you about it, keeping such a stupid memento for the past, what 5-6 years? But any comment was caught in his throat. "Well, say something already! I know you want to!"
"I-I'm just happy you still have it... would have thought you'd toss it out or somethin'," he found it hard to look you in the eyes, choosing to look at the cup on the table.
"How could I ever throw Mr. Stripes out? He was basically our mascot to get through tests. He's my good luck charm." You knocked your foot into his a few times, light taps and he looked back up at you with an almost nervous smile.
Hours had passed, drinks and snacks had come and gone. Your volume had only gotten louder and the laughter more rambunctious. One of the employees came over and Ludwig wiped the tears from his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, we're about to close for the rest of the day. Do either of you maybe want anything to go?" You shook your head, finally calming down from laughter.
"Thank you, I'm okay. Lud?"
"I'm good too," he shook his head, standing up. "Sorry if we deterred any customers, didn't mean to be so loud." The worker shook her head with a pleasant smile.
"It was nice to see you and your girlfriend on such a nice date."
"Oh we're not-" "We're not dating."
"Oh! I'm so sorry. Anyway - we close in a few minutes. We hope to see you two again." She left before you could reassure her it was fine and not an issue but Ludwig was holding his hand out like you need the help to stand up. You take his hand regardless after grabbing your bag.
"You uh, wanna come back to my place?"
"Sure."
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So I absolutely love your world building and neat as hell monster characters (Kraws design is just peak character design oh my lord)
And after scouring your entire blog to learn as much as I could, there's still so much I wanna know! How did Kraw come to adopt Gen? What happened to her eye? (I'm not sure if you've already explained what happened? Maybe I missed that detail)
Oh man, thanks! Glad to hear you like the dragon dad. And I’m sorry, I feel like my blog is very vague and unorganized as far as world building stuff goes, compared to others. Plus there’s a lot of outdated old art/storyline stuff that I’ve changed is still on here 😅 But happy to hear you enjoy it!
I have answered a similar ask about Kraw and Gen here. But lucky for you! I love to over explain things and I feel like I want to give a little more insight to Gen’s situation this time because I don’t think it’s spoiling anything too much. I honestly don’t know when I’ll get around to making little comics like I’ve wanted to in order show how she came about.
Gen has only told Kraw that she is from a city called the Fever. She remembers her friends from the city and that the Ladder was coming for them. She remembers falling into the ocean and seeing the giant eye. She couldn’t remember how she got aboard his ship, or how long she had been adrift at sea before then.
She wakes up in Sylvaine’s infirmary, where Kraw takes her after he finds her on his ship. Kraw distinctively remembers getting chills when he sees Genevieve again after Sylvaine nurses her back to health. He felt he was looking a completely different child in the eyes. She gets upset and doesn’t like to be pressed further or asked more questions on the matter, so Kraw slowly gives up, only knowing that she comes from the Ladder’s main facility. Most people of Marrowtide Isles like to avoid anything having to do with the Ladder if they can. He only hopes that it doesn’t mean that they’ll come looking for her.
She inherited her mug by unwittingly stealing/absorbing the most important energy source to the Ladder. She got away with some slight hemorrhaging, an occasional voice in her head and a strange growth on her face that Sylvaine classifies as ‘fungal’; an understatement to give Kraw peace of mind perhaps. Besides appearing to have a way with beasts, it gave her some other far more ghastly abilities, a few that only Kraw has been privy to seeing and seems keen on keeping a secret or even downright ignoring for the time being.
After some failed attempts to get rid of her (a dreadful incident with an orphanage and pissing Sylvaine off once or twice) she seemed to keep finding her way back to Kraw. Despite his initial reluctance and a possible fear of her, he found her endearing in some ways.
He notices that she seems to have a keen eye for math and helps him with heftier reading since he’s mostly illiterate. She also has way better people/negotiating skills when helping run the shop he has on the side when fishing season is slow. She didn’t seem to have anyone else and had latched onto him quite tightly, so he grew used to the idea of taking care of her. It surprises most people but Kraw is actually pretty good with kids. He’s just never raised his own until now. The absolute child-like disregard she seems to have for the detriment she could cause just makes her all the more interesting to him in a sense. Maybe he feels a child like that needs someone to look after them so they don’t end up causing world-ending chaos? If he can make her happy before whatever unknown future comes for her then he’ll feel he has a purpose for once that isn’t for profit or hurting others. However, raising a whole ass kid who has already been through life’s ringer isn’t as easy as he thought it’d be of course. Lol. Lmao.
#asks#Genevieve#kraw#monster dad#hallowed carrion#hallowed carrion lore#yaaay a little genevieve backstory#i want to make the comic of how they met sooo bad#but there’s sooo much and it has to be p e r f e c t#someday
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alix!! fluff fics are always a nice start, and I’ve had painting my room on my mind. you could get the nark boys painting nick’s earth-apartment? lark started painting when mercedes got him into art therapy (henry suggested it to merc, but yk how lark is) and does little flowers on the baseboards, maybe?
anywho, best of luck with posting fics!! I’ll be sure to hype you up :)
ASBSINSOA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! This was soooo fun to write! (Went a little longer than I meant it to lol)
“Lark? What’re you doing here?”
Nick’s standing in the open doorway of his new apartment. He’s wearing black shorts and a loose grey tank, both splattered with dark red paint that could be mistaken for blood from some distance.
“Uh.. sparrow told me you were painting your apartment and I figured- do you want some help?”
“Yes.”
Nick opens the door wider and steps back to let Lark in. Splattered on the walls in uneven brush strokes are streaks of the same red paint on his clothing. The color’s dripping from the walls onto the floor.
“Nicky, what the hell is this?”
Nick’s face goes red and he scratches at the back of his head. “I… can’t paint. You know that.”
“Nick, this is an absolute disaster- were you seriously not planning to get anyone to help you?” Lark looks at him incredulously.
“I thought I could do it! And you’re here anyway!”
“Luckily for you,” Lark grumbles, picking up one of the abandoned paint brushes on the floor “let’s get started.”
Nick picks up the second brush and follows Lark’s lead, bringing the brush down in even strokes along the walls. They’re finished with the first in half the time it would have taken Nick, and Lark puts his brush down with a sigh, running a paint-covered hand through his hair and smearing the color into the brown strands. Nick laughs and Lark looks at him questioningly.
“What?”
“Nothing- just, your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?”
“You’ve got paint in it, see?” The demon brushes his hand through Lark’s hair and purposefully smudges the paint even more. Lark lets out an outraged noise and picks up his brush, flinging the droplets of paint at Nick, who raises his arms in front of his face to protect himself.
“Oh you are so on.”
The two begin to wrestle, the paint staining their skin and clothes until, panting, Lark collapses on the floor. Nick pins him down with one hand, sitting on his legs to keep him from moving.
“So you admit I win?”
“Fine, you little shit,” Lark pushes Nick’s hand off of his chest and leans up to kiss him. Nick happily melts into the kiss and lowers the two of them down until they’re parallel with the floor, Nick’s arm wrapped around Lark’s waist.
“Got you,” Lark whispers into Nick’s ear and his pulls his hand from the demon’s face. Nick touches his cheek and grins when his hand comes away red.
“How dare you,” he says playfully, and stands up. Lark makes a noise of protest, but Nick just sticks his tongue out and heads towards the bathroom to wash the paint off. When he gets back, Lark’s doodling something in pink on the base of the wall, and Nick crouches next to him to watch. The moment Lark sees him he turns bright red and smudges the paint.
“No I wanna see! What were you drawing?”
“Nothing!” Lark says hurriedly. Nick narrows his eyes but changes the topic.
“Where’d you learn to paint anyway?” Nick asks, sitting against the wall to look at Lark.
“Art therapy. Mercedes signed me up for it a few years ago.”
Nick lets out a noise of contentment and the two sit in silence for a little longer until Lark leans over and presses his lips to Nick’s again, and then Nick’s up against the wall as the paint from Lark’s hand bleeds into his shirt.
Below them, just barely visible is a couple of doodled flowers, with N+L written in pink.
—————————
hope you enjoyed it! I haven’t written in a while, sorry if it’s bad lol
#Alixwrites#dndads#dndads season 2#dungeons and daddies#dndads s2#Writing ask#fanafiction#Nark#nark nation
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I am, as usual, late lol, but Y'KNOW. This is gonna be a long, rambly post lol, sorry, I have a lot of thoughts.
2023 was a weird year for me, artwise. When it began I was still deep in my Art Block From Hell, which had begun in mid-2021 and lasted the entirety of 2022.
Being in the thick of such a ridiculously suffocating art block, for TWO AND A HALF YEARS, is like... I can't describe how fucking life-draining it is. It felt like something was fundamentally wrong with me -- like a part of me, which used to be as effortless as breathing or blinking my eyes, had ceased to function altogether. It wasn't just a regular art block, it was a complete identity crisis. I could no longer trust the instincts I'd honed over twenty-plus years, could no longer trust my sense of observation or my ability to recreate what I saw. I felt BROKEN, and every single time I picked up my tablet pen it was like I was scraping my insides with a spoon, trying to pick up whatever tiny dregs of dried-up, crusty shit I could manage to puke up onto my canvas. It was fucking painful and humiliating and completely demoralizing.
I'm not really sure what finally got me to do so, but sometime in summer (my memory is shit lol) I downloaded Game Maker, found a video tutorial on youtube, and just... gave myself over to it. I made myself learn how to use Aseprite, and working with pixels, making teeny-tiny little sprites, forced me to work in ways I usually don't. It was a lot harder for me to find the flaws in my art when my art was thirty-five pixels tall and the anatomy was stylized to communicate clear information rather than be a recreation or approximation of reality. I think I really do credit that time working on game dev as the thing that finally cracked loose all the gunk that was keeping me stuck -- I could not perpetuate the cycle of toxicity I'd fallen into because I could barely even conceptualize what 'good' or 'bad' pixel art even looked like lol. I just knew that I was making art, and for the first time in two years, it didn't feel like I was having to desperately beg the emaciated husks of my sense of self-worth and confidence to cooperate while doing so.
(I actually sort of abandoned my foray into game dev around August/September lol, as my adhd-brain, flitting around like a little hummingbird to every dopamine-rich-flower, is wont to do 🥲 But I wanna get back into it at some point!)
From there I had a rush of inspiration for an original project I've been mulling around in my head for years, and I wrote thousands of words in my worldbuilding document, made a map, developed the shell of a possible actual STORY. I returned to sketching. Conventional sketching. It was, at first, largely still comprised of that same demotivating struggle against myself, but I was so deep in the throes of inspiration (after several years of this project laying dormant in my google drive) that I NEEDED to sketch. So I kept going. And after a while, it got....... easier. And I started hating everything I made a little less. I painted, properly, for the first time in years. I stayed up late into the night, even if it meant I would be tired at work the next day, because drawing felt so damn GOOD again and I had missed that feeling so much. All I wanted to do was draw. For the first time in two and a half years, I could finally see the light at the end of the fucking tunnel.
I still don't think I'm quite out of the woods yet. My style is changing, as all artists' styles do over time, and that comes with stumbling adjustments. My confidence is still small and shaky and recovering; I still catch myself second-guessing what I've drawn, and even looking at some of the things here on my grid makes me cringe a little bit for one reason or another.
But compared to both 2021 and 2022, the volume of art, and in particular the volume of art I don't actively despise, is WAY higher, and I'm really really hopeful that that means I'm finding my footing again.
So! Here's to 2024, and to continuing to move towards the light at the end of the tunnel 🙏🌟 I'm gonna try.
#art vs artist#art vs artist 2023#my art#skella's ugly mug#I actually did an art vs artist in 2021 but I only ever posted it on facebook lol I wasn't confident enough to post it anywhere else#purple and orange/yellow continues to be my favorite color pallet apparently#sorry not sorry for being sappy on my own blog <3333#long post
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1. Can Inkfish breath in while swimming (or sitting still) in their ink?
2. So we know that Inkfish don’t have bones, but I heard they have cartilage or something instead. That true? If so, how does that work?
3. Ok while writing this question I realized the answer, but… How do Agent Neo and the rest of the NSS get out of Alterna? (Realized they just super jump)
4. How do Inkfish super jump so accurately and onto moving objects like the Tower?
5. Why did ORCA create puzzles for the Inkfish? Like, not generic puzzles, puzzles specifically designed for Inkfish? Last I checked, all ORCA is is just a storage system with an AI.
6. So… Deep Cut. Wth did they think those random pieces of metal were going to do? I doubt that’s very valuable (unless humans mined all the ore and there’s basically none left, so melting it down gets a lot of money) so like… why fight over pointless junk when there are literal HUMAN ARTIFACTS probably just sitting around Alterna?
7. For a timespan of 12k years, the buildings in Alterna seem quite well preserved… explain.
8. How is Grizz so big and furry? Like, bears aren’t that big. Also the guy can survive in space. Like what.
9. How did Smallfry change like that in the final fight?
10. I keep seeing how Splatoon confirmed magic and now I’m confused.
Lotta questions about Alterna, I bet most can be just chalked up as bad planning regarding the story but like… I wanna hear what you think.
Assuming they're not literally inside the ink but rather on top of it, yes they can breathe
Inklings having cartilage is entirely fanon, they are confirmed not to have bones but they're not confirmed to not have some other type of support structure. People default to cartilage because Inklings are big enough to where SOME kind of support structure would be required, and we do see details of "bones" on the models (especially captain cuttlefish) although i think those are only there because the game's artists still wanted the inklings to have human anatomy. hence why they have kneecaps
yeah they probably super jump.
Game logic. But also Inklings are implied to use (and even need) signals to track when they super jump, so it's likely that they are able to sense magnetic fields and signals that they use to fine tune their trajectory, which is how they're able to super jump so accurately when they don't actually see where they're jumping. (It tracks when you take into accounts spawn points, squid beakons, the huge antenna on the Grizzco boat.. i DON'T know how the hell teammates function in this scenario but alas)
there's no good reason for this one chief the story writers just wanted to reuse octo expansion level design. ardnin has a good theory surrounding this but other than that canon does not have our back here
again the story writers didnt know what the hell to do but corporate quota probably says the new idols of the game HAVE TO be in the main story for marketability reasons so they needed to be in there being the weakest links of any story mode to date. this plot point is made worse by the fact that in the story mode, Agent 3 ISN'T EVEN AFTER THE OBJECTS. you just kind of wander into the boss areas with the thing just lying there abandoned and deep cut shows up like OH MY GODDDDD YOU CANT TAKE THATTTTT like girl, ok! you had 5 hours to take that yourself and leave! the player was never asked to retrieve the things to begin with, we just kinda take it in the end.
this has bothered the hell out of me too and it did the entire time i played through the story mode. Not to mention EVERYTHING looks extremely well-preserved taking into account the, uh... you know, the entire major plot point about the caverns COLLAPSING? lol. Not going to nitpick too much about this but basically the best explanation is that Alterna doesn't experience weather or anything, so it's semi-functional as a type of time capsule.
all but confirmed in the new art book, but Grizz is mutated to ALL HELL. His skeleton doesnt even resemble a bear at this point. Basically, he is insanely mutated. yeah i got nothing on the surviving in space part, i hate the story
i hate the story (the answer is magic i guess)
Related to the previous point, this is WHY people are saying splatoon confirmed magic. I mean there is zero explanation to a smallfry (JUVENILE SALMONID) turning into a 15 meter giant floating fish in rapid 5 second metamorphosis because of Ocean Creature Hopes and Dreams, in SPACE, then going nuts for a while and just............. turning back into a juvenile salmonid. Honest to god I would be more okay with this happening if Smallfry had STAYED as a giant fish, because we know salmonids come in a lot of different forms and whatever they turn into is highly influenced by their life and battles up to that point.
So hell, it would've made sense that Smallfry's adventure in Alterna and finally going up against what is basically the Salmonids' arch nemesis would've been a good arc for them to mature, but to pull that magic anime transformation and then just REVERSE IT is just.... You could say it's the salmon equivalent to what the Kraken is for inkfish, but that makes NO SENSE because whereas transformations like that are sensible for inklings which are creatures known to be able to do rapid metamorphosis and alter their body shape, A SALMONID IS A FISH. WITH MUSCLES AND FLESH AND BONES AND STUFF. what HAPPENED HERE bro
anyway thanks for this ask and yes, as you predicted, i believe that 90% of the plot holes in the alterna story are just because they did not have time or interest to make the story cohesive - because of the art book we now know that the Splatoon 3 story mode's first concept was COMPLETELY DIFFERENT (although we know next to nothing aside from that), there's barely ANY concept art for fuzzy octarians, barely any concept art for Mr. Grizz, and literally zero mention of O.R.C.A. So at this time I fully believe that for one reason or another the dev team wasn't able to make the story they actually wanted to make, so the story we got was either rushed or just didn't have a lot of effort put into it and that's why everything about it feels so weird and quickly smacked together and it tries way too hard to have a cool climax to the point where it achieves nothing but confusion
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i haven't talked abt my d4 headcanons for a while so it's time to change that! (this is random. like. very random there are no specifics.) also it's fine if u dont headcanon anything i headcanon of course lol, im not saying everyone should headcanon the ones i have.
(i made it long. i ramble and go off rails for a bit. apologies. cutting it.)
so. dalia half filo headcanon time!!!
dalia's mother is filipino while her father is japanese. she has one uncle and one aunt who r also filo, with dalia's mother being the youngest. her mother and siblings were born and raised in pampanga, her grandmother is from ilocos, (im not sure on ilocos norte or ilocos sur so im just saying ilocos.) and one of her great-grandparents was from around visayas or mindanao (they have no idea bc dalia's mother moved to japan at a young age bc of her grandfather needing a better job and general work environment. dalia's uncle and aunt moved back to the philippines when they were older but dalia's mother stayed in japan bc they're more connected to the philippines than her but they still keep contact.
the way they keep contact is by giving gifts. a lot of gifts. and also phone calls. when dalia and her brother (i havent made up a name for him but i will soon) were born, their gift giving doubled. they gifted them a few stuff from the philippines like a maria clara gown (that was originally from dalia's grandmother), a barong (that was originally dalia's uncle's), and a few vhs tapes and videos of their mother dancing tinikling, carinosa, and other filipino folk dances.
dalia's mother met her father and fell in love. since her husband is a chef, her siblings sent many many recipes of food their mother made when they were younger. dalia's mother also made sure that they knew their filipino food so she and her husband made sure they knew it as well.
dalia fell in love w dancing bc of her mother's old videos of her dancing. her mother let her learn those dances she knew as a child because it was like she was back at the philippines again. (and also bc she wants dalia to know that side of herself more) dalia's brother also got interested in cooking bc of their father so he started following that path.
bc of this, dalia and her brother know three languages: japanese, tagalog and english. they know japanese and tagalog more compared to english though. reason for knowing english is because in the philippines, they (in my experience, anyway) only teach japanese and other languages in international or expensive schools and dalia's mother and siblings would not be able to go to that type of school. but! in public schools or cheaper schools (depending on how u see it idk) they mostly teach u english and tagalog together. so her mother would know english and tagalog then soon needed to learn japanese.
so. um. enough abt dalia!!! onto my next d4 headcanon ramble!!!!!
trans girl shinobu. i havent thought of this much like i did w dalia but it still means a lot to me even as a transguy. (still not used to saying that lol) it's gonna be explained when i ramble. im a closeted transguy. so why would i headcanon shinobu, someone i draw in mostly masc clothes, transfem instead of transmasc? bc to me it's like. "hey! look! this transgirl can wear masc clothes and is still a woman, so a transguy wearing fem clothes is still a man!" so it comforts me.
also bc why not? nothing is stopping me, people in this fandom love hearing me talk abt my headcanons -- hopefully -- and they arent going to argue and make long ass thread on me or my art and why it's wrong.
anyway, enough abt myself, onto the "lore" thing or whatever to call this. shinobu is not on hrt yet, but was on puberty blockers when she was in middle school. (im not sure on what age ur allowed hrt in japan so...) and did voice training. her family and peaky pkey are the only ones who knows she's trans and she's VERY private abt her transness. when kyoko asked her abt voice training when she didn't know her much she got very scared and told her she didn't know. she wears hoodies bc it hides the fact she's flat chested. she doesnt wear tight shirts either, only when she's home. dennojo and all her relatives support her greatly and make sure she's comfortable w herself as much as possible.
kyoko, esora and yuka were confused at first why shinobu would just. not dress up w them and stuff but after she told them why, they simply smiled and said it was fine. the three of them make sure shinobu is comfortable whenever she's changing in gym and also make sure no one is looking at her. they do a little wall thing. ough theyre just. very supported of her ok?
that's all i got for shinobu. if i continued it would be super long so im stopping and going to continue ramble on abt something else.
merm4id has heart accesories that are meant to match w each other. idc what u say. rika has a heart-shaped sunglasses, marika has a bracelet w heart beads, dalia has heart earrings and saori has a heart pendant she can open that has the pictures of rika, marika and dalia. they all love each other so much <3
touched on this in my bday fic, but aoi has two crow plushies named lucifer and hesperus. lucifer is a very light orange-colored crow with dark brown eyes while hesperus is a dark blue one w yellow or orange eyes. she got lucifer first when she was ten and has been with her ever since. he's full of stitches and stuff bc of how old he is. hesperus, on the other hand, is very clean. he doesnt have stitches yet. to her, lucifer was her first friend. he comforted her when she was at her lowest. tsubaki, nagisa and hiiro didnt know she had lucifer until side origin and they love him dearly. then at her birthday, tsubaki gifted hesperus to her.
all of them like to think theyre rondo's mascot even tho theyre the only ones who know abt them. hiiro likes making little outfits for them and nagisa likes making accesories. also nagisa jokes a lot abt how hesperus and lucifer are like tsubaki and aoi's sons, which tsubaki does not (she secretly does) like and aoi just chuckles and agrees. tsubaki is especially attached to hesperus bc she bought the little guy. that's her little thing. aoi sends in silly pictures of them in the silly outfits hiiro made for them to the rondo gc. tsubaki treasures them deeply and nagisa likes showing it to shinobu w no context.
noa is a very normal (she isnt) fan of takarazuka revues (bc she has the same voice as junna) and she tries to get towa into it. towa half heartedly watches the plays for noa's sake and she's just kinda happy that noa wants to share something she likes w her. noa rambles A LOT on what some things might mean and represent in the plays and towa tries to add what she thinks whenever noa rambles. she also tries to get ibuki and saki into it and she semi-succeeded, but towa is the one who keeps up w her normalness abt plays. they also talk abt how cute some musumeyaku and otokoyaku are bc of course.
aaaaaand that's all i got. this isnt much headcanons but i think some of the details i put compensate for that lol. hope u enjoyed seeing my headcanons? idk.
#crow talks#d4dj#d4dj groovy mix#dalia matsuyama#(not tagging rika marika and saori but i am tagging)#polym4id#shinobu inuyose#aoi miyake#tsubaoi#<- yes im tagging this shush.#noa fukushima#towa hanamaki#towanoa#i honestly loooove talking abt my headcanons but i dont want to do it much bc i might annoy people lol
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ok as an artist i personally find traditional painting to be. really really annoying. like. i do not have the patience for it and i just find it to be really frustrating to set up and actually do and i end up not liking the results. i find that there's little room for mistakes and trying to fix them usually ends up with me making 50 other ones, paints can be so inconsistent and having to rely on availability and certain brands to continue making the paint is really inconvenient, not to mention expensive. spending a bunch of time trying to mix the right shade of paint, only for it to go down a completely different shade of colour and not being able to do anything about it is so frustrating as someone who likes consistency and having things just, y'know, not change colour as soon as it dries. plus, they all use different chemicals and can go off really easily or change textures and i am just not ok with having all my materials having an expiration date like food. lead and graphite pencils just don't do that and they can last for years, they're more reliable. every paint is drastically different and trying to find the right one is not only time consuming but, again, expensive, and i don't even see the point in experimenting when most of my materials end up not even getting used if i don't like using them. plus, i'm just.... really impatient. waiting for paint to dry sucks and is why i much prefer digital or just drawing something because i don't need to wait for anything, it just works. and then when i do want to take my time and work slowly for a better result, it dries too fast. it's kinda hellish trying to balance that time, especially considering how inconsistent paints are.
i like to use guidelines when doing art and i find painting straight onto a canvas to be really tricky because there's a lack of direction for me to actually paint. i'm at a complete loss at what to do when i pick up a brush because i can't map it out first without risking screwing up the paint. there's just so many things to keep track of and so much wet paint to avoid and i just do not have the mind for it. putting colours on a canvas and praying that it works just isn't it for me and requires a discipline that i just don't wanna involve myself with. painting is also just like... really exhausting and kinda painful. i got some pretty bad back issues and my arms tire and get sore easily and quickly when i'm standing in front of a canvas. it's a really physical activity for me and i just don't find something to be very fun to do at all when it's physically hurting me. i know drawing on a canvas has this issue too, which is why i prefer sketchbooks. sitting down and drawing something that doesn't break my entire spine every time i do it is much more preferrable than questioning if i should go to the doctor every time i make a brushstroke, lol
that's not to say that there's nothing i like about painting though! i can paint simple little things, and i like doing that. i like mixing colours with a palette knife and i find it fun and even a little relaxing. i painted some cute little chibi cardboard cutouts of the mario brothers one time and i found that to be really fun and i think i'd like to do that again! but apart from that, i just do not have the patience for it. i love the look of traditional paintings and i find many to be really beautiful, but i could never get into actually doing it myself because i hate the process. i'm content with just sketching and doing digital stuff because that's more fun to me and less stressful of a process to do. it's fun, it allows for more mistakes, it's easier to build up layers of shading and lines, not to mention using building up a figure with guidelines is super helpful with visualising what i want it to look like, and i can just erase something if i don't want it there or want to change something. it just makes sense to me.
tl;dr i dont like painting because it's inconsistent, expensive, time-consuming, directionless, frustrating and it makes my back hurt really bad. i'll just stick to drawing stuff :)
#vent#artist vent#i hate painting#i hate it so much and i just cannot understand it nor do i have the patience for it#i seriously had a crack at it and i just find it to be so annoying#there's so much preparation and i'd much prefer just whipping out a pencil and eraser and scribbling something down#to be fair though i do enjoy other art mediums that require more preparation#i find crafts to be fun and i really like working with air dry clay#using clay is just creating a little creature and i really quite like it a lot#making little cardboard guys is fun if not a bit tricky sometimes because my hands are so big compared to the tiny bits of carboard im usin#but it's very fun and cardboard is easy to get#clay is not so easy to get but you can get a lot of it and make many things with it#the only things i really dont like about clay is fingerprints and the fear of having your art literally explode when you fire it up#but other than that? fun!#painting? not fun!#paint is so messy and i don't like having goopy stuff getting stuck on me and all over my fingers all the time funnily enough#if i bump into something (which is very likely for me because i am clumsy) then oouuguh there goes all the paint its everywhere now#oh my god you know what i hate the most. i hate oil paints. i hate them so much.#the smell gives me bad headaches and makes me feel faint and it's hard to clean and dispose of and it's just more chemicals to deal with#it's just acrylic but more annoying#i don't think it's edible either which is. frustrating#it's also harder to clean out if you get stained with it (which is very likely because paint is messy)#i just dislike oil materials in general. they smell weird and they do not wash off. i still have oil pastel stains on one of my favourite-#-shirts despite the fact that it has been washed multiple times. and it took several days and so much fucking scrubbing to get-#-it out of my nails and off my hands completely. actual hellscape.#i know graphite and lead pencils would never betray me like this#pencils are so reliable and i love them <3#pencils and drawing equipment in general are just more reliable and don't expire or develop inconsistent textures (except erasers for some-#-reason) and they don't! hurt! my! back!#like i'm over here needing to do the riker maneuver to sit down after i paint my back hurts so bad
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did not, in fact, get the rest of the movements of the original piece before the end of term. did, in fact, get buzzed by a camera drone, show my gratitude to my conductor for the past term in the most truly cringeworthy way, and discover that the quartet has an affinity for mozart
the (complete) new movement we read is accompaniment for a song with a lot of pop rhythms and a modulation into a new key. but the funniest thing is that i swear to god it sounds like old school opm. i couldn’t describe how for the life of me. but i know my dad will start making up words to it when i practice at home.
other modern piece comments:
‘you are a ruminating beast from siberia, and we all know that’s how they are’
‘the spirit is willing but the notes are wrong.’
me: ‘wait, there are catholics in this?!’
honestly though the real star of rehearsal was the brief interlude in which we were videotaped playing the finale to haydn 104 for inclusion in a promotional video for the college of humanities and arts via, of all things, a small camera drone.
tita conductor to the drone operator: ‘and let us know when you are ready… to fly!’
also tita conductor to the drone operator: ‘will you please try not to chop my head off?’
something about the presence of the camera got her hamming it up it was SOO FUNNY 💀💀💀 she did a little hair flip before we all prepared to play. and when the drone came whizzing around the strings she was cuing me like she’d NEVER cued me before. like girl was just like. 🫵🏻😳
you did not make eye contact with me like this and point for that One measure during the concert 🤨
during the drone’s first pass through the room the breeze knocked the associate concertmaster’s part off the stand and i managed to nudge it back over to the firsts with my foot without looking off of my music 😭 i hope it was the right way around
i was actually grinning through the whole thing for once, mostly because i thought it was the funniest shit that i’d ever been put through in this orchestra
we then recorded an audio-only version of the finale and i really just told myself to let go and have fun with it. then tita conductor waited for the audio person to lower the mic before joking brightly, ‘okay! let’s do it all again!’
(we did not. thank god because i was tired.)
now remember how i’ve had a little affirmation/reminder to self stuck onto the top of my folder so i will always see it when looking over the stand? at the beginning of the school year it was ‘huwag kang matakot’ (don’t be afraid) but around january when i was going through a bout of imposter feelings i changed it to ‘magtiwala sa kanya’ (trust her)
tita conductor asked everyone to turn in their folders on impulse and i collected everyone’s but didnt realize id forgotten to do anything with the note to self so (equally impulsively) i wrote ‘thank you for this term’ on the note, stuck it to the front, and handed it in to her with the other folders and a brief explanation.
it was cringe of me lol. but she’s really done a lot. im so grateful. and she was touched.
then she lowkey forgot to open the usual classroom for me and the quartet so i had to go back and ask again and she told me ‘my mind is like a sieve. you have to remember to hold on to me.’ girl please lmao?
anyways we closed the night reading through eine kleine nachtmusik together. which we sound pretty great at considering we were reading. i wish id recorded it
and there ends another term with orchestra. it was a good one. one more for the year (and possibly ever with this group.) can’t wait to make the most of it :)
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