#because it's placed so plainly where everyone can see it

[sergle]

I'm thinking abt that pretty fall leaves embroidery pattern post and about how like... it is categorically a repost, it's a reupload. right? a thing that is generally disliked. but because it's credited, it's genuinely boosting the artist in question. and it could ALWAYS be like this. reposting content could ALWAYS be a symbiotic relationship, but because sourcing back to the original creator of something is so uncommon, it's just easier to ask people not to repost it at all. and people still don't understand the difference. or they'll go to the effort of cropping out usernames/signatures to repost something, which is More Effort than literally crediting the creator of something you liked enough to want to repost. Like. I literally don't actually care if my own shit gets reposted, you have to understand. I just don't want it STOLEN. But "do not repost" is easier to write on my art than "you can repost this, but don't alter the image/remove my signature, don't you dare write 'credit goes to the artist' because that is not credit, please link back to my original post or someplace that you can actually find me. please use an actual link/url instead of writing a non-clickable link of my username, because making it text instead of a clickable link cuts the number of people who will go to the effort of visiting my own page in Half." All those aggregate themed accounts, those fuckin annoying as hell instagrams and facebook groups that are like "body positive art we love wamen 💕 hashtag feminism" and then MASS-STEAL plus sized art created by women, if pages like these that always go and steal my older self-portraits and other works... If they just put a link to my prints of those pieces in the text of those posts, or, fuck, my commission info page? I would literally be living on the moon right now. I would have a house on the moon

[usedpidemo]

More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom. 

She absolutely loathes hearing it. 

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons. 

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout. 

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing. 

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence. 

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk. 

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move. 

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning. 

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place. 

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way. 

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening. 

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall.  It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes. 

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.  

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.” 

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.” 

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather  “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you. 

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more. 

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself. 

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it��s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal. 

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth. 

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you. 

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air. 

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite. 

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go. 

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants. 

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin. 

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths. 

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself. 

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes, 

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.” 

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled  in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection. 

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point. 

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.” 

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense. 

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?” 

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.” 

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead. 

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.” 

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly. 

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels. 

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her. 

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer. 

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits. 

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building. 

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you. 

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped. 

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor. 

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.” 

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)

[goldenwilliamson]

keeping it casual | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: inspired by the song casual by chappel roan - a must listen for all the queer girlies who have been in confusing situationships. it sucks.

summary: reader and leah become friends w benefits, but reader wants more. leah is very clear however on the fact that she wants to keep things casual. miscommunication, a little angsty, little fluffy, and little smutty (if you squint).

word count: 2000

There was no denying your feelings for Leah. Of course you’d always been attracted to her, that’s how you ended up in this friends with benefits, no strings attached situation in the first place. However you had both made it abundantly clear from the start that you wanted this to be casual. You weren’t looking for a relationship, and from what Leah said, neither was she. It was casual sex, and that was that. Except now the lines were blurring between something casual and something real, and you didn’t know what to do about it. 

What began as late night hook ups has turned into essentially living in each others houses, sleeping in the same bed every night, driving to and from training together, and from the outside it would appear you two were in a happy relationship. Everyone could see the way you two lit up around each other. But everyone also knew that Leah didn't have a reputation as a monogamist, and that raised concerns among some of your team mates. Namely, Beth Mead who pulled you aside one day for a conversation that became much more serious than you had anticipated.

‘What’s happening with you and Leah, darling?’ She asked you and you smiled.

‘I don’t know, it’s all a bit confusing to be honest,’ you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. 

‘Y/N, you shouldn’t have to be confused. I really wish Leah would just grow up and be ready for a relationship, she shouldn’t be stringing you along like this,’ Beth said, and your defences shot up. 

‘She’s not stringing me along,’ you said bluntly, ‘This was a mutual choice, we both went into this wanting nothing more than something casual.’

‘But don’t you want more than that? I can see it in the way you look at her that you really have feelings for her. I just don’t want you to get hurt,’ Beth said pleadingly, surprising you that she would come to you to try and persuade you out of this situation with Leah.

‘I can appreciate where you’re coming from, but I’m a big girl Beth, and so is Leah. Whatever happens I can deal with, but for now it’s good. You don’t have to worry,’ you told her and she nodded slightly, though you could sense that she wasn’t convinced. 

The conversation ended there however, and you went back to training. That night when you and Leah went back to her flat, you wound up pressed together, trying to taste every inch of each other. While you rested your back against the headboard, Leah worked her magic between your legs, using her tongue in all the right ways to get you off. This is it, you thought, it’s just sex. But the way that Leah holds you and falls asleep with her face against your neck makes you think about your chat with Beth. Because not only do you want the obscenely good sex, but you want the cuddles, you want the late night conversations, and the waking up together. You want the inside jokes, and the stolen glances on the pitch. But deep down, most of all you want to know that Leah is all yours, yet that’s the one thing that you know you won’t get.  

When you woke up the next morning you brought it up with Leah, in a subtle way, deciding to tell her how Beth had pulled you aside. 

‘Beth doesn’t understand not wanting to be in a relationship, because she’s always in one,’ Leah had told you plainly. 

‘Yeah,’ you agreed meekly, not sure how to digest that fact that Leah was still telling you that she didn’t want to be in a relationship. 

While at the beginning you were on the same page, now her refusal to be exclusive feels like a knife in the heart. Because you had given Leah the best of you, and she still didn’t want to be with you, and that felt personal.

Despite all the feelings arising on your end, you two continued your pattern, living in each others pockets and sleeping together, but not putting a label on it. Now you were even attending Williamson Wednesday’s as you had dubbed it. The one night a week where Leah and her family all went round to her Nan’s house for dinner and board games. You had wondered what this meant for your relationship, regularly spending time with her family. In front of them she never tried to hide the fact that you guys were romantically involved either, she would gladly take your hand, or let her arm settle around your shoulders or waist, even steal a kiss. Leah’s own mother Amanda had praised you privately in the kitchen one night, thanking you for making her daughter so happy. And yet, her daughter remained certain that she didn’t want a relationship.

At this stage you were starting to feel disillusioned by it all. You started really questioning how on earth Leah could truly believe anything about your relationship was ‘casual’. 

It all came to a head one night when you were out at an event together. You two were ready to walk down the carpet to get photos taken and Leah had planted her hand on your lower back, initiating that you two would walk together. 

‘We wouldn’t want the press thinking we’re a couple now, would we?’ You said sharply, stepping away from her and choosing to walk first by yourself. You were tired of the mixed signals, and when you looked back at Leah you could see that you’d shocked her. 

When you got to the end and walked on through to the next room Leah came quickly to your side, ‘Have I done something?’ she asked in a low murmur.

You settled your rising emotions with a breath and then turned to face her, ‘I just didn’t think you would want to be photographed with me by your side, seeing as you’re pretty adamant about how you don’t want to be in a relationship with me.’ 

‘Woah, where’s all this coming from?’ Leah said, stepping back slightly and holding her hands up innocently. 

‘Forget it, let’s just get through the night,’ you say, putting it to bed for now. 

Instead of spending the night with Leah, like you’d want to, you let yourself socialise and catch up with people who you hadn’t seen in a while. However you mind never strays from the blonde girl who you’ve completely fallen for. You’ve tried to push your feelings away, and tell yourself to just enjoy it for what it is, but you can’t do it anymore. You decide to leave early, ordering yourself an uber home, rather than using the car organised to transport you and Leah. In the back seat the emotions overcome you, and the tears finally fall. You begin to process how much you truly do feel for Leah, and you start to feel like an idiot for allowing her to just use you for sex for this long. 

When you get home you can’t even bare to look at yourself in the mirror to remove your makeup. You just clumsily step out of your dress and crawl into bed, feeling lonelier than ever. Your pillows muffle the sound of you crying as your body shakes in the sheets. Hoping sleep will find you soon, you close your eyes and try to think about anything else. It’s no use but, your mind completely revolves around one person now, and the fact that she doesn’t feel the same way only makes you feel worse. 

After what must be about an hour of wallowing, you hear your front door creak open and close and the click of heels on your floorboards downstairs. You know immediately who it is and you keep your eyes firmly shut, trying to stable yourself mentally for all this to come to an end. 

You’re laying with your back to the door when she enters the room, her presence bringing with it an energy that never fails to fill you up with love and affection. 

‘Hey,’ she says gently, stepping closer to the bed until she kicks off her shoes and pulls off her blazer then crawls under the covers herself, wrapping her body around yours and holding you against her. The tears come again and you find yourself silently crying. 

‘Baby, please talk to me, what’s going on in that head of yours?’ Leah pleads, affectionately planting kisses into your hair as she runs her hands over your body. As much as you wish you didn’t, you relax into her touch, while your mind continues it’s internal battle about whether or not you should bring all this up.

‘I can’t do this Leah,’ you say, spinning around. She releases her grip on you and pushes your hair out of your face so she can see you properly. 

‘Can’t do what?’ Her eyebrows knit together and her lips are slightly parted, trying to process the night.

‘I don’t know why I let this go on so long,’ you can’t even look at her, because seeing her face makes you want to forget about how you feel and let everything continue as it has been. You roll your face into the pillow, groaning and wishing this could be different. 

‘You don’t want to be with me anymore?’ Leah echoes the information she is receiving back to you. 

‘No,’ your voice is muffled by the pillows as you make your admission, ‘I want to be with you, that’s the problem, because you don’t want to be with me.’ 

Leah examines you carefully, smoothing down your hair as she tries to find the right words.

She speaks slowly when she does, allowing all the words to sink in, 'Y/N, of course I want to be with you, I thought I was following your lead with this whole friends with benefits thing.'

'What?' You turn to face her as you remember all the times she made it very clear she did not want to be with you.

'I would’ve made you my girlfriend right away, but you told me you weren’t looking for anything serious. I want to be with you, I thought you were the one who didn’t want a relationship,' she says, shaking her head, realising how this was a serious error in communication from both of you.

'Are you kidding me? I thought this whole thing was on your terms, and it was just about the sex for you,' you say.

'Are you blind?' Leah scoffs, smiling, 'You’ve basically moved in to my house, you come with me to visit my family every week, I thought I was making it obvious that I want you to be a part of my life.'

You smile at yourself now, feeling silly for not having just had this conversation sooner, 'Why didn’t you just say something?'

'Because I was scared! You always seemed a bit off about it all, but now I can see why,' she says, looking you deep in the eyes like she is finally understanding you in a new way. 

'We both should have said something then,' you say and Leah nods.

'I can’t believe you would think I would use you just for sex, what am I, a man?' She says in sarcastic shock.

'You didn’t say otherwise!' You quip back. 

'Well I guess I did want to keep having sex with you, that’s why I didn’t say anything,' she shrugs.

'Me too,' you smile.

'But you know this is so much more than sex, even though that’s also really great,' Leah says, letting her hand rest on the side of your face. 

'It is for me too. I want everything with you,' you say, feeling like you’re stepping off a cliff, falling into a new part of your life. A life with Leah. 

'So do I. I love you, Y/N, so much,' she says and you eliminate the short distance between your faces, kissing her gently.

'I love you too,' you say, resting your forehead against her as you pull back. Leah closes the gap now, kissing you again, and again. 

‘So does this make you my girlfriend, then?’ She mumbles between kisses as your hands roam over her waist and thighs trying to take off her outfit.

'It better,' you say, not wasting a moment before connecting your lips back to her skin, just to make sure she knows just how much you’ve been waiting for this moment. 

[maxwell-grant]

So is Worm good from what you have read

"Yes" doesn't begin to cover it but yes. Worm is a brain-rewiring mobius strip disguised as a bible disguised as a superhero web serial that either cured your cancer or shot your dog or both depending on who you ask, and it has many extremely dedicated, brilliant scholar priest surgeons publicly dissecting it on this platform on the regular to the point I don't think I have much to add to the conversations surrounding it, even if I do have some The Thoughts about it. I had never even really seriously thought about superhero prose before and Worm isn't a thing I go back and reread frequently but it did a complete and total 180 on the way I think about superheroes and even fiction, and I've never stopped thinking about it since I've read it.

It is a monumentally impressive story with completely absolutely incredible characters that I cannot stop thinking about. No matter where it was going, even past stretches that were less interesting or more of a slog to read or worse, I could not put the story of Taylor Hebert down for one minute. Tattletale fascinated me every step of the way, I had to keep up with her. Rachel Lindt was a character I feel like I'd been waiting my whole life for. What was I gonna do, not see them through? I feel like Worm easily loses you if you don't particularly connect with the characters enough to justify to yourself the amount of time you'll spend with them, but man, I could not unglue my eyeballs from these people enough (I love all the core Undersiders, to be clear, I'd say it's Rachel > Taylor > Tattletale > Aisha and Alec and Brian, there are very small gaps between these, I just don't go berserk for the last three like I do for the first three, I'm taking Bitch and Skitter to the grave I'm dead serious)

Worm irreparably destroys your ability to engage with superhero fiction the same way ever again, as evidenced by the fact that it destroyed the author's own ability to engage with his own superhero fiction ever again. And everybody who read it has one or several gripes with it with some major dealbreakers in the mix. Tumblr's kinda the only place online where you can really talk about them at length without the spectre of John Wildbow hanging over the discussion, which enables discussion to the point where yes, maybe it does look like to outsiders that nobody can agree on whether Worm is good or what is it even about or whether it even has worms in it (it has at least one, although it's a very big one).

And it is good, it has the Undersiders in it and the Undersiders are one of the greatest groups of characters ever put together, but everyone has at least one major point of contention with Worm whether it's the timeskip or the length or the racism or the gross fatphobia or aspects surrounding the Dallon-Pelham Torment Nexus and etc. I'd say it has maybe the most racist vision of Latin America I've ever seen in a superhero text a hair short of pro-colonial tracts in Golden Age comics and that is a tall fucking order by any metric (part of why I started WEON4 as a project was motivated by spite, to try and make my own stories about non-American superheroes even if just as practice). It is Complicated, and that winds up making it so fascinating to talk about.

Worm has self-sustaining ecological systems of posts up here, far away from the Spacebattles and Reddit battlegrounds where it has different ones and that's not getting into Weaverdice or the sequel or Wildbow's larger body of work, which I haven't gotten to and probably will not any time soon because Worm was enough of a commitment as is. Do I recommend Worm to everyone? It is certainly not to everyone's tastes and I personally find it difficult to describe it simply enough to make it sound appealing or not like a pyramid scheme. But yes I do think it's good, in fact great, in fact, amazing, except when it isn't, and except it Plainly Sucks, but then something like Taylor vs Mannequin or Kevin Norton's interlude or "You needed worthy opponents" happens and it fucks harder than anything has ever fucked before and you don't walk away from it the same, so yes I guess "good" will have to do now.

It's certainly a lot but I definitely found it worth my time to read and then read the texts written about it here. You'll have to take my endorsement of Worm as proof of it's quality and proof of how deranged it makes it's readerbase, they're not mutually exclusive. If you can make it, Worm and the wormosphere has layers and layers to wade through and talk about and enjoy, despite how we're all so very small in the end *gunshot*.

[feasibilities]

Sight and Smell - Tom x Married!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: Tom has feelings for you and won't let anyone stop him from telling you how he feels. Warnings: Drug Use, Infidelity, Allusions to Cuckolding, Sex as Punishment, Choking, Pining, etc. Author's Note: Readers need love too! I did some research on luxury hotels in Dublin as well (because I want a late-night rendezvous with Cillian in one of them). Also, thank you @mothhball for tagging me in the prompt that spawned this insane story. I hope you enjoy it!

The sight of your beautiful smile and the smell of your redolent perfume were mainstays of Tom’s psyche. He knew your husband, Seán, since they were kids. You came along during secondary school. He knew it was wrong to lust for any woman who wasn’t Marianne, but you were different. For the first time, he felt a deep-seated jealousy toward his friend. Knocking on the front door, Tom was finally prepared to tell you how he really felt. This party would go down in history. 

“Hey, Tom. Seán will be here soon. Won’t you come in?” You smiled sweetly. You noticed that he looked disheveled and restless. 

“Of course.” Tom replied. While you led him to the kitchen, he admired how your black dress hugged your figure. He hated that Seán got to see the treasures that lie underneath. 

“Where’s Marianne?” You inquired, going back to cleaning the champagne flutes. 

“U-um, she wasn’t feeling well so she stayed back.” Tom faltered, taking quick peeks at your cleavage. 

“Ah. Well, I hope she feels better soon. How have you been?” You asked.

“Fine.” Tom answered plainly

Walking toward him, you placed the back of your hand on his forehead. 

“Are you feeling okay, hun?” You asked innocently. 

Taking your hand away, Tom hurried to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. You heard him lock it shut shortly after. You stood there stunned before continuing to prepare for the party. 

After separating the thin white powder into lines, he gummed what was left over on his fingers. Snorting each line was like a hard reset for his body. His heart felt like it was clawing its way out of his chest. Collapsing near the bathroom sink, he trembled and cursed himself. He sat himself up in a corner and breathed deeply. The palpitations of his heart subsided. 

Hearing offbeat jazz come from the living area, Tom jumped up and gathered himself. He had to get this out of his system before guests arrived. It was now or never. 

“I need to talk to you.” Tom blurted out, watching you arrange hors d'oeuvres on multiple platters. 

“Fucking hell, Tom. You scared me half to death.” You jumped. 

“Listen, it’s very important-“ Tom started.

“Can it wait until after the party, hun?” You corrected.

“It can’t.” Tom said, growing irritated by the second. 

“Fine. What is it?” You said, exasperated. 

“I have loved you since I met you all those years ago. I think about you all the time. I hate that Seán got to you first.” Tom confessed, staring into your eyes. 

You stayed silent and stared back at him. You felt a mix of panic and curiosity. Seán would kill Tom with his bare hands if he heard this conversation. Tom’s advances made sense—especially since you felt the same way. You loved your husband with all of your heart, but you can’t say you never thought about leaving. He was away for work way too much. When he was here, he wasn’t present emotionally. Intimacy was poorer than it had ever been. You yearned for something different—rather, something electrifying. Tom was the closest you could get.

“We can’t do it here, Tom. I can meet you in a hotel after the party. Now, take these platters into the dining room. Be careful to not let anything fall.” You ordered. 

Tom’s eyes widened at your proposal. You’ve never seen him move so fast in the time that you knew him. Guests, including Seán, began to arrive. He kissed you deeply and gave you an embarrassingly hard smack on your ass. It felt like he was putting on the show of a happy couple in front of everyone. Tom was left to brood angrily as you gave him sympathetic glances throughout the party. Shortly after everyone’s departure, you got a text from Tom about your impending rendezvous.

Room 427 at The Westbury. Hope you’re still up for the challenge. 

“Challenge?” You murmured as you applied your makeup at your vanity.

“Where are you headed, love?” Seàn slurred, toying with your hair. He was too drunk to notice you flipping your phone over. 

“Out with friends. I’ll be back late.” You replied. 

“You know, I want to spend more time with you. I miss you.” He said, kissing your shoulder and starting to untie your house robe. This was another empty promise. You politely moved his hands and went back to finishing your makeup. 

“We can spend time together when I get back, Seán. I need some time to myself, ’s all.” You said. Finally getting the message, he stumbled to the bed and fell asleep.

— 

“Fuck, right there…” You moaned as Tom thrusted into you at steady pace. You raked your nails down his back—marking your territory for the time being. He stared down at you with the same admiration earlier. He loved the way your breasts moved with each thrust. He loved the resplendent noises you made when he bottomed out. You clenched around him as your legs began to shake.  Your eyes fluttered shut before you felt his hand grab your throat. He squeezed enough to limit your blood flow. You were lightheaded, but still conscious.

“Open your fucking eyes. This is what you wanted, right?” Tom hissed, speeding up his movements. This time was much more brutal.

“Yes.” You whimpered, feeling like you were about to break in half. 

Tom kissed you harshly and watched as you fell apart. Unintelligible praises came from you as he pounded you into the plush mattress. Your walls spasmed frenetically as you came. He wanted to make sure that you thought of him every time you fucked Seán. To his own perverse wish, this was payback for not choosing the better man.  Flipping you on your stomach, Tom yanked your hips backward and started taking you from behind. He put a pillow underneath you to soften the blows, but to no avail. He was reaching depths that your husband dreamed of. You weeped quietly and 

“Would be fucking sick if Seán came in and saw me nailing his wife, eh?” Tom teased, panting in your ear. A cruel part of you got off on the thought of him listening in on you two. Maybe he would give you the attention you deserve. A faint “Mhmm” emitted from you in response. 

“Cum inside me.” You cooed, looking back at him with heavy eyes. You bit your lip and clenched around him once more. His thrusts staggered as he came with a loud groan. You sung his praises as he came down from his high. Pulling out, he saw his seed beginning to spill out of you. He caught some with his fingers and pushed it back inside.  He pumped himself mindlessly before laying next to you. His stark blue eyes studied your features. He traced his fingertips along your back. You looked back at him lovingly before drifting off to sleep. 

Grabbing your lace underwear from the floor, Tom huffed them desperately. Similar to cocaine, he felt a sense of euphoria. He took in the sweet, earthy scent as he grew hard again. He didn't want to disturb you, so he walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He finally got what he wanted. 

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part nineteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i'm sorry it took me so long to post this omg i am behind on writing bc i'm so sick but i'm also trying to get ahead on requiem BUT-

Important Announcement!!:

cold nights will officially have a season 3! i wasn't sure but i had a good idea for what the epilogue would be and then i realized it would be so much better as another fully developed idea. so, that will be coming soon!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo smiles as you run up ahead of him, picking up his pace slightly and dropping his bag next to yours.

Some of the others are already stripped down to their bathing suits and running down the dock. It is beautiful here, not that he ever doubted you.

He watches as you peel off your dress, another short one similar to the one you had worn for most of the time he'd known you. This one wasn't sewn in at the middle, so you can slip it quickly over your head. Your bathing suit must have been homemade, too, and it allowed him to see how the bruises and scratches on your back were all but healed while you toss your dress to the ground. He notices quickly that it was exactly the same as Lucy Gray's, maybe your mother had made you matching ones. That's so sweet.

Your skin looked so beautifully soft- just like it should have the first time he saw it, spare for the scars on your calf and your arm, it was just what he imagined.

You kick your shoes off, and the wood of the dock is hot against your bare feet as you run down to the end, diving head-first off to the side to avoid jumping right onto any of your friends.

It seemed to Coryo that you weren't afraid anymore as you briefly looked back at him while you were running. The excited scream you let out when you lept from the dock made his heart flutter. This is exactly what he had wanted, from the very beginning.

When Coryo jumps in behind you, you can hear his shout and feel the water shift around you as his body breaks the surface. You turn under the water, its clarity allowing you to see where everyone is. You loved this. The memories of this lake kept you safe, almost. You can hear muffled laughter above the water, deciding to take your time before coming up for air. You didn't need it just yet.

You swim away from everyone deep under the surface, scanning the lake floor for anything interesting. Really, it was just sticks and rocks and mud, but one day you may find something else exciting, but not today.

"Where is she going?" Coryo comments, watching your body as you kick away deeper under the water.

"Wherever she wants." Lennox answers plainly, treading water as he stares at him.

"She's looking for secrets." Maude Ivory giggles, splashing him in the face. At least she gave him somewhat of an answer.

He quickly lifts an arm to block the wave, but it fails miserably. "What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" He coughs out, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Once we found a watch." Lucy Gray shrugs, looking from him to you. "Which is odd because we didn't know anyone else knew about this place. The secrets are what happens when we aren't here."

You hardly noticed the lack of oxygen until it almost felt too late, quickly swimming up and pushing your hair out of your face so you don't inhale it by mistake.

"Anything good today?" Lucy Gray shouts over to you as soon as she's noticed you've come up.

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so!" You pant, pushing yourself through the water back toward her.

"So, that's a no?" Sejanus asks and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Just rocks and sticks." You explain, joining them again and bumping shoulders with Lucy Gray. "Some weeds, if that's your fancy."

"Oh, yes, that's right up my alley." Sejanus chuckles, cupping his hands to block out the glare of the sun as he looks down into the water anyway.

"I've never been to a lake before," Coryo says, breathing heavily as the waves from the kids splashing keep coming up too close to his face.

"What? Really?" Lucy Gray and Sejanus ask in unison, and you smile at him.

He nods, eyes locking with yours. You feel the need to say something. "Is it everything you dreamt of?" You ask.

"Just about." He grins.

"Oh? What's missing?" You giggle.

Oh, only being able to hold you without retraumatizing you.

"It's not that anything is missing," He comes up with as an excuse. "There's just more birds than I expected."

"Oh, yeah. They like it out here." You hum, looking up at the trees while Lucy Gray whistles out a tune for them to mimic. You smile. "Why, you don't like birds either?"

"Never been the biggest fan, no." He chuckles.

The birds echo her song back to you repeatedly. Coryo turns around to watch as if there was anything to see besides these black birds flitting around the trees and above the cabin. "What kind of birds are they?" He asks. "I've never seen that before."

"We call 'em Mockingjays." Lucy Gray tells him.

"'Cause they'll mock ya if you mess up the song!" Clerk Carmine jumps in, climbing onto Lucy Gray's back under the water.

"Oh, I wouldn't know." Your friend teases him, gripping tight onto the boy's legs as he starts to shout. He knows what's about to happen, and clearly you do too as Coryo watches you and your brother quickly swim out of their reach and closer to him.

You laugh, watching as Lucy Gray takes a big dramatic breath in and sinks under the surface of the water, pulling CC down with her as he screams and splashes.

The sun dried you quickly after you decided you had had enough of the water, climbing back out onto the dock and deciding to just lay your blanket there to dry off on while you took the book and snacks from your bag.

Coryo had been sitting with Lucy Gray and Sejanus, but they were just talking to each other more than him. Not that he could have paid much attention. He was just watching you.

"Can I go talk to her?" He asks with little regard for the conversation that he was interrupting.

They both look over at him. "I mean, you could try. Would that be okay?" Sejanus answers, looking to Lucy Gray for confirmation.

"No. Let her have her peace and quiet." Lennox interrupts as he walks back up in front of them, pulling his shirt back onto his now fully dried skin.

Lucy Gray sighs."Just... Don't be stupid." She advises Coryo, nodding him on. "Len, we'll be right here."

Your brother shakes his head slightly, glaring between the three of them with nothing short of adamant disapproval.

Coryo nods slightly, taking the preferable answer by getting up and heading back down onto the dock.

Lennox looks back over his shoulder to where he just was with Maude Ivory looking for katniss, before taking Coryo's spot on the deck.

"Did she not tell you anything about him?" Lennox mumbles to Lucy Gray, eyes locked on his sister and her 'friend' as he stands over her. "No, she must have- because you were at The Hob last week. You saw it."

"I saw a girl with a lot of unresolved trauma have an episode." Lucy Gray explains, watching Lennox take Coryo's spot next to her. "He made a mistake, but he wouldn't ever hurt her."

Your brother opens his mouth to argue, but Sejanus interrupts. "I know it isn't my place, but Lucy Gray is right. He would sooner die than hurt her."

"Okay, well, explain how he's sitting right next to her when he's already hurt her so bad she may never recover!" Lennox whispers, gesturing to the dock as if they couldn't already see you there.

"I'm not defending anything he's done. That's not what I meant." Sejanus explains. "I just mean he would never do it on purpose."

"Accidents are clearly bad enough."

"Len, he just wants to make amends now." Lucy Gray insists. "And she wants that. I know she does, she's really trying."

"Listen, if it helps..." Sejanus starts, looking back out at you and Coryo on the dock. He can tell how nervous his friend is, watching you intently as he picks at the wood finish beneath him and listening to you talk. "He really loves her. I know it's not my place to tell you that, but it was bad when she was gone. He hardly spoke a word to anyone, he wouldn't put her book down- it was really hard on him. We weren't sure if she had been executed for cheating, and it was killing him to be left in the dark."

"That's not love, that's guilt." Lennox mutters, watching you closely.

"What's the difference between love and guilt?" Lucy Gray asks him rhetorically. "He wouldn't feel guilty if he didn't care."

"The difference is he wouldn't have come here and made the same mistake again."

Lucy Gray bites into her lip, slightly shaking her head. That was an honestly good point.

"I was in the arena, too. I saw what he did." Sejanus says after a moment. "He saved my life, it was my fault. It was shocking... you know, the overkill, but I can't say for certain I wouldn't have done the same thing. We were both pumped so full of adrenaline that I truly believe that's what it was." He explains. "I mean, I was behind him, so I don't know what she saw- but it looked like adrenaline to me."

"How do you think she felt?" Lennox asks, eyes wide. "She was in there for three days! You and him were there for what, ten minutes?"

"Wait..." Lucy Gray backpedals, looking at Sejanus. "Sejanus, what do you mean you thought he was executed for cheating? Like, in the games?"

Sejanus swallows, nodding. He looks over at you but quickly looks away. "Yeah, uh... Coryo told me that she used rat poison to kill two of the others. And he did something to keep the snakes from biting her, but I don't think he was caught for that."

Your brother and best friend look at each other like they'd just seen a ghost before their eyes simultaneously track to you. You were laughing.

"She didn't... She didn't tell me that." Lucy Gray says quietly. "Did you know, Len?"

"No."

"That doesn't surprise me." Sejanus shrugs and they both look at him, shocked and confused. "Well, she doesn't know either. I don't think, definitely not about the snakes, but she told the Dean it was salt. That I gave her." He laughs slightly at the end, but they don't find it funny. "By the time she left, she was fully delusional about it. She knew what it was, Coryo gave it to her to protect herself because he needed her to win. She was really upset by the insinuation that it, in fact, was not salt."

Lucy Gray and Lennox look at each other again, unsure what to say. It must have been worse than they thought. Regardless, they knew it must be eating you alive.

"Can I join you?" You hear Coryo's voice above you after about ten minutes of listening to the mockingjays sing Lucy Gray's song back to her as she sat on the porch of the cabin. The sun was so warm on your skin that you could have fallen asleep here if you weren't reading your book.

You squint against the sun as you look up at him. "Yes, you may." You agree, and you feel him sitting down next to you as the wood creaks below him.

You find yourself holding your breath, even as you return to your book to try and remain relaxed.

He's not going to hurt you.

"What are you reading?" He asks after a moment, thinking your arms must be asleep for using them to hold the book and support your weight for so long.

"It's called 'Much Ado About Nothing'." You answer. "Another Shakespeare piece."

"Do you like it?" He asks, lifting his leg to rest his elbow on his knee while you sit up, crossing your legs and letting the book fall into your lap.

"I do." You smile down at the page. It is much more lighthearted than Romeo and Juliet, as much as you would have loved to come home and drown yourself in your favourite book- the boy next to you unintentionally made it impossible. God, you were so embarrassed by the letter you wrote to him. Your cheeks flush just think about it. All you did by surviving was make everything weird.

"Another tragedy?" He inquires, attempting to read some of the words on the page as it's opened on your lap.

"No." You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's a romantic comedy, actually."

"Oh, wow. You changed it up?" He asks, only somewhat shocked. It would only make sense that you couldn't handle much more tragedy since you've been home.

"I did." You smile. "It's quite funny."

"Will you read me your favourite part?" He suggests, watching your eyes as they light up with excitement from the request.

"Okay, so..." You quickly flip back through the pages and into the first act, scanning for the lines you're looking for. "Okay. Here." You pretend to clear your throat.

"In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature." You recite, dragging your finger along the page so he can track what you are reading. You remembered it, but it might have been easier for him to follow that way.

Coryo watched you the whole time, and by the end, you were a giggling mess. You thought it was absolutely hilarious, and he smiles at that.

"What does that mean?" He chuckles.

"So," You laugh, a hand pressed to your chest. "Basically, she's talking about how she was arguing with Benedick and won. The punchline is that she let him keep one of his wits, because if she didn't no one would be able to tell him from his horse."

Coryo laughs at that, shaking his head. "That is good." He agrees.

"Isn't it?" You smile. "It's a welcome change of pace."

"Yeah, Romeo and Juliet was... yikes." He says, ticking his jaw and peeling up some of the wood from the dock between you.

"You read it?" You ask quietly, eyes widening as you look over at him. It shouldn't shock you, he told you he would, and that he even looked forward to it. "What did you think?"

"Of course I did," Coryo nods. "I really enjoyed it."

"It doesn't seem like it..." You laugh nervously, looking down as you flip back to the page you were on before closing the book.

"No, truly. I did." He insists. "Just... for lack of a better term, it was tragic."

"Yes, well..." You chuckle, shrugging slightly and tucking your book back into the bag next to you.

"It was heartbreaking!" He laughs suddenly. "And that's your favourite?" He looks at you then, head tilted as he slightly shakes his head.

"Okay, so," You laugh, rolling your eyes. You were used to defending this to others who have tried reading it. "That's what makes it so beautiful. It's so touching, they died for each other thinking they were in love, but they also hardly knew each other. It forces you to wonder what could have been, and I like that."

"Okay, well, you're right." Coryo agrees. "I didn't like the ending, but that's the point, I suppose. The rest was good, it reminded me a lot of you."

"I think I forced a bias onto you. My apologies."

"You didn't force anything on me." He smiles, shaking his head. "All I knew is that you loved it, and that made it so much better."

Your cheeks flush as you busy yourself by pulling out the bag of cherries. "Would you like some?" You offer the bag to him and he reaches in, taking just a couple out and popping one into his mouth.

"I finished it all before you left." Coryo tells you, and you hold him out another empty paper bag to spit the pits into.

"That good?" You smile and he nods.

"Can I..." Coryo starts, and you tilt your head at him. He doesn't want to ruin your day by bringing this up. Everything on your face shows hope, even excitement for what he is going to say. "If you can't hear this stop me, but the book made great company in the mentor hall."

For a moment, he saw nervousness flicker behind your eyes, but still, you nodded. You wanted to hear anything he had to say- you just hoped you could stomach it.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm... I'm glad." You try and smile, distracting yourself by popping a cherry into your mouth.

"I was alone most of the time. I didn't go home." He tells you, trying to say what he wanted but still be as vague as possible.

"It must have been so horribly boring." You laugh nervously, swallowing the cherry pit as you reach for another of the small red fruits, picking the stem from it and flicking it into the lake.

"I wish it was." He replies, watching you closely to see if and when he's crossed a line. You nod in understanding, and he takes a nervous breath in. "I... The alternative was that I got sent home like some of my classmates. I wasn't going to leave until I had to."

'Until I had to.'

So he was forced to go in for Sejanus. Why on earth would they not send peacekeepers? Why another child?

"I... I appreciate that." You stammer out, looking down at your lap, noticing for the first time that your hands were trembling. "That must have been uncomfortable. I apologize."

Coryo furrows his brow at you. "No, I'm sorry. Why would you apologize to me?" He asks. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. That I couldn't get you out."

"You did more than you had to." You say, voice quiet with your honesty.

"No." He shakes his head. "I had to do everything I did. I couldn't let you die."

"You saved my life, and... and-" It happens very suddenly when a tear falls down your cheek; you didn't even notice you were starting to panic.

"No, wait, I'm sorry, hey, don't cry..." Coryo says quickly. He wants to help, to do something, but he feels helpless. Again. He feels sick with the knowledge that he always says the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." You mumble, trying to wipe your eyes but you're finding it hard to speak.

"Don't be, please don't be sorry." He pleads with you, shifting so he's kneeling next to you, placing a hand on your back.

You almost jump away, head flying to look at him. He's just rubbing your back. He's only trying to help.

Instinctively, your eyes search for his. They aren't hard to find, and all you can see as you search them is worry. Nothing malicious. "I... Do you want me to get Lucy Gray? Or your brother?" He offers, grabbing your shaking hands in his free one. "Just take deep breaths."

You nod, scared to look away for even a second. So he has to.

Coryo turns back, swallowing his pride. "Lennox! Lucy Gray!" He shouts, drawing their attention quickly.

He accepted the berating he was about to get from your brother before it even came.

"What did you do?" Lennox asks him, forcing himself between the two of you.

"We were just talking and I think I said something- I don't know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Coryo answers honestly, standing up and taking a step back.

You're watching him, intently, despite Lucy Gray taking over holding you and talking to you in hushed tones, trying to ease your mind.

"I'm okay." You tell her, nodding. You don't look at her, only watching him. Watching his eyes- but nothing changes. Baby blue. Worry. More worry.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[stedefxckingbonnet]

hello hello! i don’t think i’ve seen anything like this yet, so may i request izzy x gn!reader who’s a bit insecure?

maybe they struggle with body image or something and izzy is basically like “how are they so blind??” but he struggles to express it because he’s never had to be so soft for anyone?

of course, ignore it if you’re not comfortable with it! :)

Hi, everyone!!

So, it's been a while. And I mean, a while. Longer than I wanted to step away from writing, and I never really wanted to step away from it in the first place but some stuff happened and yada yada. But I'm truly, truly hoping to be back and writing again to some capacity, I have truly missed writing for Izzy and for you all and I feel as though the world needs Izzy Hands content now more than ever! I truly do hope to be back.

I hope you don't mind that I put my own spin onto this, anon! You provided the lovely central plot and idea, and I simply provided an atmosphere and story to go with. Body image/insecurity is something I struggle with too, no matter how many times people tell me that I am beautiful, and I tried to channel that in this one. I am also not trying to send the message that other people's validation is what can make a person feel better about themself! I am more so trying to convey that the one(s) we love can often show us things about ourselves that we didn't know were there or didn't see before, and that they help us to love and appreciate these things about ourselves, and ourselves in general. You all who are reading this are so, so wonderful and beautiful and extraordinary even if you have a hard time believing it, and maybe your comfort character can help you to believe it a bit more in this little fic♡

Anyhow, please, request! Don't hesitate! My messages are also always open for anyone who needs anything but also just to say hi or talk about anything really. Thank you all for your everlasting support, patience, and kindness especially through my sort of absence ♡ Also, please, if I have used your gif or you know who created it, please credit yourself or them! I am not always good at figuring that sort of stuff out, but I want to give credit where credit is due. Have a wonderful day (or night), everyone!

Love,

Lavinia

What I See | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight swearing, struggles with body image and insecurity, very direct izzy (in a good, affectionate way but may be inaccurate ish? but i believe it isn't)

Word Count: 2525

"I just don't understand it!" the first mate angrily threw his hands up in the air. "I just don't understand why Bonnet is dragging us to one of those stupid...fancy people gatherings."

You couldn't help but laugh at such a sight, seeing Izzy Hands so distraught, though his usual cloud of anguish didn't seem to surround him. This was different, something you couldn't exactly place, but it was endearing nonetheless. "A ball, you mean?" your lips curled into a playful smile.

"I don't care what it's called," Izzy grumbled. "All I know is that I don't want to be there."

"It could be fun!" you suggested, your smile growing larger.

"Has Bonnet brainwashed you somehow?" Izzy rolled his eyes, but for just a moment, maybe, you could have sworn you saw a smile on the first mate's visage.

"If worse comes to worse, there'll be plenty of alcohol to drink," you laughed, softly squeezing Izzy's shoulder. Subtle touches like these between the two of you were second nature, almost instinctual, yet you were certain Izzy didn't make much of it and plainly saw them as something friendly. You almost sighed at such a thought.

And perhaps you had your own motives for wanting to drag Israel Hands along to such an event. Perhaps it gave you an excuse to hold him close to you without him suspecting a single thing, just that it was all custom meant to be followed in such a setting. You thought maybe, just maybe, it would be the opportune night to spend some more time with Izzy, just the two of you in the moonlight, dancing and chatting the night away, cheek to cheek...

"Fancy people alcohol," Izzy groaned in response, snapping you out of your daydream, to which luckily, he didn't notice you had slipped into in the first place.

"It's better than nothing," you rolled your eyes playfully. "Now, come on. Bonnet's got some fabrics for us to borrow, he says. I've come to fetch you," you now smiled teasingly.

"Oh, joy!" Izzy exclaimed sarcastically, yet he still followed your lead.

The only reason he was even remotely tolerating the night ahead was to be able to find himself closer to you, away from the chaos of The Revenge and all else it had to offer. Spending a night with you wouldn't be dreadful in the slightest for Izzy, and had you not been attending at all, he wouldn't even hesitate to let Ed and Stede go off to this awful event by themselves. But even Stede knew that your presence was enough to get Izzy to agree to such a thing, and really, what could be more convincing than you?

Before Izzy could comprehend it, your figure was wrapped in an ethereal ensemble. You studied yourself in the mirror, a frown naturally falling upon your face, though it quickly faltered as he came into view.

By the sea gods, you looked astonishing. Izzy already knew you would be the most bewitching of the ball, and that perhaps he would have to compete with other awful suitors of high society to even just get a moment alone with you. He almost became troubled at the thought, but your unmatched beauty was enough to distract him from such a notion. You had taken his breath away and this wasn't exactly a feeling he was used to, though it wasn't one that he disliked. No, not at all. In fact, he could get used to this, and he wanted to. Even though his own reflection stood right before him, he couldn't take his eyes off of you. He never could have fathomed until he met you that someone could be so breathtaking, so...alluring.

But all you were thinking about is how your clothing seemed to accentuate all of the wrong features, in your eyes.

'And the color—it washes me out, doesn't it?' you thought to yourself, almost fighting back tears.

Finally, Izzy spoke, though he immediately regret doing so. "Will you be comfortable?" He almost began to scold himself. 'That's all you have to say? This attractive person is standing right beside you and that's all you can manage to say?'

"Oh, yes. I've got plenty of moving room," you assured him, doing your best to step out of your own head for a moment. You even tried to shoot him a convincing smile. "I'll be just fine."

Finally, your eyes wandered over to his image, instead of focusing either at your own reflection or onto the ground. You felt your face becoming warm as you caught a glimpse of the man before you—how he was transformed, yet, still the Izzy Hands you knew and loved. Only elevated, and even more enchanting than usual. Your jaw almost dropped to the ground.

"What? I look fucking dumb, don't I?" Izzy laughed annoyedly.

"No! No, Izzy, you look..."

Before you could finish your statement, Stede rushed in. "You two ready to go? Oh, look at the two of you! You look divine!"

You looked over at Izzy, sending a supportive, yet spirited smile his way. Izzy couldn't help but return the sentiment as the two of you were ushered off of the ship and into another realm unbeknownst to the both of you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Some of the sweetest melodies you had ever heard began to surround you as you stepped into the ornately decorated room. You could hardly believe how much space there was in just one part of this residence, and that it was dedicated for dancing and other sorts of happenings similar to these. Before you knew it, for just a moment, you succumbed to your wonder of what having a life like this would entail, though you were quickly reminded of your distaste towards it when you saw a woman weeping and being chased out of the room by a man screaming extreme obscenities toward her. You and Izzy slowly looked toward one another in disbelief, the both of you fighting off laughter.

"It's not too late to get out of here," Izzy whispered.

You rolled your eyes with that same familiar grin this action always seemed to come with. "We're hardly even here."

Defeated, Izzy sighed and slumped against a wall, though quickly coming off it as soon as he spotted Stede glaring daggers at him from across the room. Another sigh escaped his lips, and you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to contain yourself. As annoyed as Izzy was at what just happened, your laughter was an antidote, and he was certainly taking it in.

Though, his newfound smile quickly faltered when he noticed a handsome stranger eyeing you from a few feet away. But you didn't even notice that someone else had noticed you—you only cared if the man in front of you had, and he seemed to be occupied by something else.

"Iz?" you asked in confusion. "What is it?"

Without another word, Izzy motioned his head to the side, to which you finally noticed the attention of another that you had captured.

"And?" you shook your head, unsure of what Izzy had been insinuating.

"He wants to dance with you," Izzy pointed out, rolling his eyes without realizing. "And you should have some fun. Don't let me hold you back."

You opened your mouth to speak in protest, but quickly closed it once again. How would you admit, in the midst of a stuffy room with a plethora of people you don't know who are all dancing and speaking at the top of their lungs, that all you had looked forward to this evening was to sharing a dance with Izzy Hands and no one else? That it was the only reason you even considered forcing yourself into an outfit that made you feel bad about yourself, even worse than you already do, and surrounding yourself with a million strangers whilst doing it? The thought alone sounded like a nightmare, but with Izzy by your side, it sounded like a dream come true. But Izzy was pushing you toward this stranger before you could comprehend it, and then you watched Izzy's figure disappear slowly into the distance as you were whisked away.

"I've never seen you here before," the stranger pointed out. "And if I had, I think I'd remember a beautiful person such as yourself."

These words made your insides twist. Your companion spoke with sincerity, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it. 'He's just being polite,' you told yourself, brushing it off.

"It's been a few years," you lied, not wanting to blow your cover, or especially Stede's cover, as you were sure he wasn't exactly welcomed back into an environment such as this. "I don't usually speak to many."

"Well, isn't it my lucky day then?" he laughed. "No one here even compares to you. You are something special. What did you say your name was?"

But before the perhaps unlucky stranger knew it, you were nowhere to be found. You kept running until your environs became darker, and the moon was your only source of light. You leaned against the railing of a balcony, your vision blurred by tears. You flinched upon feeling a hand on your shoulder, but quickly relaxed once you noticed out of your periphery that it was none other than Izzy's touch.

"Did he offend you? I swear, I'll have his head before he can even fucking think of using it again—"

"No, no. He didn't. It's fine, really," you shrugged, blinking back tears to the best of your ability. But even the darkness of the night failed to hide your misery. Izzy softened upon noticing your state.

"What is it?" he asked, concern dripping from his voice as he looked at you intently. You stared at your hands gripping the railing, but you quickly tore your eyes away from that sight and stared out into the night.

"I—This is why I didn't want to come tonight!" you exclaimed.

"You—but you were so—"

"Excited? Yeah, right," you laughed sadly, shaking your head.

"What is it?" Izzy repeated, worry written all over his face. "Are you sure I don't need to behead anyone?"

Another laugh escaped you. "No, Izzy. He—he said I was beautiful. That's not a crime."

"He wasn't wrong," Izzy shrugged, a small smile making its way onto his face. With this, you couldn't help but meet Izzy's eyes, and you couldn't help but return a smile. Though quickly, it vanished, and your original demeanor overtook you once again.

"He was though," you protested. "This is why I don't like coming to these things. Squeezing myself into these clothes."

"I know these clothes are a bit ridiculous," Izzy laughed. "But yet you still manage to be so...beautiful."

Your heart began to do pirouettes inside your chest. For once in your life, part of you believed such a statement could be directed toward yourself. But Izzy could see the plagued expression on your face.

"You don't believe me?"

You shook your head as you finally allowed tears to fall down your face and drip onto your chest. Izzy frowned and took a few steps closer to you so as to gently wipe away your tears with his thumb, though his hand lingered for a moment longer, caressing your cheek as he was about to speak.

"You could be covered in dirt and I'd still find you beautiful," Izzy assured you. "You know, when I first saw you, I knew even then that you were. And you become more so every single day. You are the most enchanting person I've ever crossed paths with and laid my eyes upon. And there's so many things about the world I find are awful to have to experience and look at, but not you. You're the opposite of everything that's wrong with the world."

Sobs escaped your chest as you fell into Izzy's arms, to which he instinctively caught you, engulfing you carefully in his arms. He softly wrapped his fingers in your hair as he held you. 'I am holding the world in my arms right now,' he thought to himself, and thank the sea gods your face was buried into the crook of his neck and you couldn't see the grin that conquered his lips.

As for you, you never believed it when anyone else said these sorts of things to you. You found it impossible to believe these things about yourself; there were even days where you'd purposefully avoid any sort of reflective surface just to ensure that you don't break down. Sometimes, you couldn't even bear to look at yourself. But hearing Izzy declaring all of this to you—for the first time, perhaps you would actually be able to believe it.

Your silence made beads of sweat form atop Izzy's temple, but he didn't dare let you go to wipe them away. You clung onto him tighter, which only thawed Izzy's heart even more. He couldn't believe all that he just said, even though it was all true, and your lack of a response made his heart race even more.

"You are beautiful," Izzy repeated as he melted into your embrace, and embraced the shared silence. Something about it was comforting in a way he had never experienced before. If he could, he would exist in this moment forever.

Finally, you slowly pulled away, though your hands still clung onto the first mate's arms, and your faces were a short distance away from one another. At the same time, the two of you leaned in to close said distance between the two of you, and all bits of yearning, desire, love, and desperation poured out into this moment. Even without Izzy's words, he had already managed to make you feel lovely in every way even just by him being around. He was the one person who managed to help you see what was so amazing about yourself. You quickly melted into the sudden collision of your lips and he kissed you with a fervor that you had been craving from him for as long as you could remember. You smiled against his lips, and once air became scarce, the two of you simultaneously sought it. Once you both pulled apart for air, a collective joyous laugh filled both of your ears.

"I only wanted to come to this stupid thing because you'd be here," you admitted, and you were sure your cheeks were as red as the roses in the garden that surrounded you.

Izzy couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't going to come until Bonnet mentioned you would be. I meant what I said, you know. You are beautiful, and I'm sorry, but you're fucking dumb if you don't see that."

You threw your head back as you laughed before meeting Izzy's gaze once again. "You are so beautiful," Izzy repeated once again, all teasing aside to show his sincerity. You reached for his hand and squeezed it tenderly as the two of you looked out into nighttime, but all Izzy could focus on was how even more ravishing you looked as the moon illuminated your face.

[whoisshel]

The Gate Pt.1

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

word count: 3311

tw: swearing, no Eddie but he is mentioned this time

previous part

“Eleven.” Mike sighed in relief, seeing the girl everyone else thought was gone for good standing right in front of them. 

“Mike.” Eleven gasped as they both took a couple of steps forward and fell into a hug.

They stayed like that for a few seconds, just holding each other and crying happy tears so that they could be together again.

“I never gave up on you,” Mike said, pulling back from the hug. “I called you every night. Every night for-”

“353 days.” Eleven finished the sentence. “I heard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? That you were okay?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her,” Hopper answered, walking to Eleven as Mike stepped away confused at what Hopper was talking about. “The hell is this? Where have you been?”

“Where have you been?” Eleven asked back, as Hopper pulled her into a caring hug.

“You’ve been hiding her.” Mike realized what Hopper meant, he jumped at Hopper hitting him on the back. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”

Hopper quickly turned around to face the younger boy and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, “Hey! Let’s talk. Alone.”

Hopper took Mike into a bedroom away from everyone. The rest stood by as Eleven walked up to her old friends, happy to be with them again. As Max tried to introduce herself to Eleven, the short-haired girl wanted nothing to do with her and walked over to you.

“Hey, kid.” You smiled, patting Eleven on the head like you did a year ago, “I’m diggin’ the style.”

“Thank you,” Eleven replied, slowly with a shy smile.

“I’m glad you’re back.” You said, softly trying to hold in your tears. Eleven just nodded with the same smile before walking over to Joyce.

“So, that’s the girl with the superpowers,” Steve said once Joyce and Eleven had walked away to the room Will was in.

“Yup.” You replied, plainly. She wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, you were just in your head too much at the moment and still trying not to cry.

“I thought she had a shaved head.”

You turned to look at Steve in complete disbelief at the words that just came out of his mouth, “It’s been a year, Steve, hair grows.”

“I know, but, never mind.” Steve shook his head, not having anywhere to go with that sentence.

Joyce and Eleven walked back in and over to the table in the kitchen. Everyone walked over to them, hearing that they were talking about the gate.

“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?” Joyce asked.

Eleven turned to look at Joyce, taking in the hopeful expression on her face. Eleven then turned back to face forward knowing what she had to do to save them and to save Will.

—----------------

They all stood around the kitchen as they figured out their next move. Joyce explained her idea, but Hopper was a bit apprehensive about it. 

“It’s not like it was before, it’s grown.” Hopper sighed, “A lot. And, I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

“Demo-dogs.” Dustin interrupted Hopper to correct him.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said, uh, Demo-dogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs. You put them together, it sounds pretty badass-”

Hopper cut Dustin off, annoyed by his interruption to explain something irrelevant, “How is this important right now?”

“It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“I can do it,” Eleven said, determined.

“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper practically pleaded, not wanting to have the young girl be put into a dangerous situation.

“I’m hearing you. I can do it.” “Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike interjected, “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” Max said, confused at what he was getting at.

“It is, but if we’re really right about this, I mean if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army…”

“Will’s part of that army.” Lucas finished Mike's explanation.

“Closing the gate will kill him.”

Everyone looked at each other with worry, they had a plan but they didn’t know how to execute the plan without killing Will.

They all walked into Jonathan’s room where Will was lying, still unconscious.

“He likes it cold,” Joyce muttered out loud, but mainly to herself.

“What?” Hopper asked, wondering what she was talking about.

“It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Joyce walked over to the window and closed it. “We keep giving it what it wants.”

“If this is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…” Nancy started.

Jonathan finished what she was saying, “Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.”

“So if he likes it cold…” Nancy once again started coming up with a plan.

“We need to burn it out of him,” Joyce said with so much anguish thinking about the pain her son is going through already and how much pain they’ll have to put him through to get the mind flayer out of him.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time,” Mike recommended so that this time the mind flayer can’t stop them.

“Yeah, somewhere far away,” Dustin added to Mike’s idea.

Hopper said that he knew a place, so he picked up Will as he explained to Jonathan and Joyce where they were going. While Joyce and Jonathan were going to try and get the mind flayer out of Will, Hopper and Eleven were going to try and close the gate. Which left everyone else to stay at the Byers to wait until everything was complete.

Nancy and Steve were outside looking at the pile of stuff from the shed to find the heater. You were asked to go too, but Steve asked you to stay behind so he could talk to Nancy alone. When he came back in, Steve looked a bit downcast but he had a smile on his face to try and act like he was. You saw right through and went up to him to check on him.

When you walked up to him, you put a hand on his arm, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, um,” Steve nodded as he continued to look at the ground, “I told her to go with him.”

“With Jonathan?”

Steve nodded again, this time he looked at you with a more genuine smile but there was still some sadness in his eyes, “Yeah, but it’s all good she needed to go with him.”

You just nodded, you didn’t want to push him anymore, you already knew what he meant by that.

Steve and you walked outside with the kids to stand on the porch and watch as everyone else left in their separate cars. They all looked back at each other with slight fear at the unknown of how this could go

—----------------

Back inside the house, Dustin was throwing everything out of the fridge to try and make room for the Demo-dog Steve was holding wrapped in a blanket. While you were cleaning up the mess Dustin was making so Joyce didn’t come home to a pile of her food on the ground.

“All right, it should fit now,” Dustin said, once he cleared out the fridge.

“Is this really necessary?” Steve asks, not liking the kid's idea to shove a monster into a fridge.

From your crouched position on the ground, you looked up at the two annoyed, “No, this is ridiculous, Dustin.” 

“Yes, it is, okay?” Dustin insisted, not listening to the older girl's opinion. “This is a ground-breaking scientific discovery. We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog.”

“All right, all right, all right.” Steve stopped Dustin from continuing his rant. He walked over to the fridge and before he put the thing in the fridge he turned to Dustin, “But you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right?”

Steve then tried to shove the Demo-dog into the fridge, but was struggling, “Help me out?”

“What am I supposed to do?”

You stood up to get out of their way, chuckling as you did so, loving the struggle these two idiots were putting themselves through.

“Get the door, man, the door.”

“All right, I got the door.”

The two slammed the fridge door shut before the creature could fall back out. As soon as it was shut, they both sighed in relief and Steve gave a pat to Dustin’s head. Hearing the girl behind them continue to chuckle, they both turned to face you with irritation all over their faces.

“Oh, like you could have done better.” Steve sarcastically said.

“Yeah, I could have, because I wouldn’t have tried to shove a monster from another dimension, that has tried to kill us, into a fridge.”

Steve put his hands on his waist and nodded, “That’s fair.”

“What about the scientific discovery?” Dustin whined, looking up at Steve, thinking they were on the same page.

“I just wanted you to shut up.” Steve sighed, walking away to grab a towel to clean his hands of the slime that came from the Demo-dog.

Dustin and you turned to the living room where they could hear Lucas and Mike arguing.

 “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.” Mike reminded Lucas since he had been the only one of the group that had seen what happened in the lab.

“Demo-dogs!” Dustin yelled as he walked into the living room followed by you.

Not listening to their curly-haired friend's correction, Lucas continued to try and calm Mike, “The chief will take care of her.”

“Like she needs protection,” Max muttered from the ground, where she and Lucas were sweeping up broken glass.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?” Steve walked in to try and convince Mike that staying at the house was what they were supposed to do, but his analogy didn’t work.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike fumed, “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“So my point is-” Steve paused, not knowing what else to say, “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

“All right, so you’re done talking,” You put a hand in front of Steve’s chest to get him to stop before bringing it back down and putting your attention to Mike, “Let me try and put this in words you might prefer. The Dungeon Master has given everyone their part in defeating the mind flayer, and since you don’t have superpowers or are possessed by the mind flayer, you are not a protector of one of them. Your job is to sit back and wait not to cause any more problems, okay?”

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin interjected.

“Well, I don’t completely understand the game-”

“No, I mean, these Demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bud, they were called away.”

“So, if we get their attention…” Lucas started, seeing what Dustin was getting at.

Max continued Lucas’ idea, “Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.”

“And clear a path to the gate,” Mike added.

“Yeah, and then we all die!” Steve tried to stop the kids from going any further with this idea.

“That’s one point of view.” Dustin disagreed with Steve.

“No, that’s not a point of view, man. That’s a fact.”

“I got it.” Mike gasped, running into the kitchen and everyone followed. He went over to one of the drawings of the map Will created and pointed to a spot, “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel.”

Mike walked over to the spot in front of the hallway where a pile of drawn-on papers was on the ground, “Here, right here. This is like a hub. So you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire-”

“Oh, yeah? That’s a no.” Steve sassed, hating this idea even more.

The kids continued with their back and forth as if they all shared one brain.

“The mind flayer would call away his army-”

“They’d all come to stop us-”

You tried to intervene, “No, guys, now way!”

“Would circle back to the exit. By the time they realize we’re gone-”

“El would be at the gate.”

“Hey. Hey! Hey!” Steve clapped his hands, finally getting the kids to stop and look at the teens behind them. “This is not happening.”

“But-” Mike tried to object.

 “No, no, no, no, no.” You cut him off before he could go any further, “There will be no arguing. Steve and I promised that we’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what we plan on doing. We’re staying here and we’re waiting for the others to finish their side quests to defeat the monster. Does everyone understand?”

“This isn’t a D&D game!” Mike argued back.

Steve took the towel off his shoulder, and pointed it at Mike, “She said, does everybody understand that?”

“I need a yes.” You ordered one more time, but before the kids could respond a loud revving of an engine was heard outside.

Max ran over to the window and sat on the couch to look outside, “It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”

Steve and you went outside to wait on the porch for Billy to pull up to the Byers’ house, so they could send him back on his way. 

Billy got out of his car with a cigarette in his mouth, taking a puff he took it out of his mouth smirking, “Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington? And I see you have the Virgin Mary with you.”

“Yeah, it’s us. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve replied in a monotone voice.

“We know that’ll be hard for you since you seem like the premature ejaculation type of guy,” You commented in a bit of a more smart-ass tone.

As Billy took his leather jacket off and put it in his car, Steve stepped off the porch and walked over to him, while you stayed with your arms crossed.

“What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy asked

“I could ask you the same thing. Amigo.”

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh, that’s weird, I don’t know her.” Steve fibbed to try and get Billy to leave.

“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

“We don’t know her, so leave!” You shouted from your spot.

“You know, I don’t know, this…” Billy sighed dramatically, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, “This whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh, yeah, why’s that?”

Billy took another puff and shrugged his shoulders, “My 13-year-old sister goes missing all day and then I find her with you two in a stranger’s house. And you both lie to me about it.”

“Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?” Steve gave a light chuckle, “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

“Then who is that?” Billy pointed over Steve’s shoulder with his cigarette.

Steve and you turned to look at the window where the kids were peeking out of. You looked at them all with wide eyes, mouthing, ‘What the hell’ as they quickly ducked down.

“Oh, shit. Listen-” Billy pushed Steve to the ground before he could finish his sentence.

“I told you to plant your feet,” Billy said, before kicking Steve in the stomach.

You stomped up to Billy and gave him a shove, “What the hell, Hargrove?”

Billy just shouldered you to the ground like she was nothing and continued his walk into the house. You were too in shock to comprehend what was happening and before you knew it you landed on your butt. You caught herself with your hands before you could end up landing on your back. 

You quickly stood up and walked over to Steve to check on him. He was still lying on his side, holding his stomach in pain. You lightly pushed him by his shoulder to get a better look at him and see if there was any other damage.

“Are you okay?” Steve could still only nod as he tried to catch his breath again. “Okay, you’ve got to get up, we need to help the kids. Come on.”

You grabbed Steve by the elbows to pull him up from the ground. Once they were both standing, they charged towards the house where they could hear the kids freaking out. When they walked into the house, they could see Mike, Dustin, and Max watching Billy yell at Lucas.

Steve quietly walked up behind Billy while you stood in front of the kids to block them, as Billy continued to shout at Lucas, “You are so dead, Sinclair! You’re dead.”

“No, you are.” Steve shoved Billy back before landing a hard punch to Billy’s face knocking him over slightly. This gave Lucas enough time to run back over to the rest of them, hugging them all.

Billy stood back up cackling with his nose now bleeding, “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh? I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

“Get out” Steve growled, pushing Billy back with his two fingers, trying to make space between them after Billy got extremely close.

Billy swung at Steve, but Steve was able to duck in time before coming back up and punching Billy in the face again. Billy fell back onto the table and then turned back laughing again like a maniac.

“Yes! Kick his ass, Steve” Dustin cheered on from behind you.

“Get him!” Mike shouted along with Dustin.

Steve got two more punches into Billy’s face, when Billy grabbed a plate and smashed it on Steve’s head, making Steve stumble back a few steps. Billy stomped forward and punched Steve in the face hard. You pushed the kids back as the boys walked into the living room to continue their fight.

Billy grabbed a hold of Steve's jacket bringing him close to his face, “ No one tells me what to do.”

Billy head-butted Steve, causing Steve to end up on the ground. Billy crouched over to Steve and landed continuous hits to his face. 

You had enough of this lunatic's behavior and advanced towards him landing a harsh kick to his ear. Billy fell off of Steve, holding his ringing ear, he looked up at the girl that just kicked him and let out a loud growl-like scream. Billy stood up and made his way towards you, but before he could get too close you kicked him in the balls.

Billy recovered quickly and practically threw himself at the girl before you could do any more damage. He grabbed you by the throat, pushing you against the wall and lifting you off the ground a few inches. As you gasped for air, you frantically clawed at Billy’s face leaving a couple of scratch marks. You swung your legs around trying to kick, but couldn’t seem to hit anything major. 

Your vision started to go black and your ears began to ring when suddenly you felt yourself fall to the ground. Landing on your hands and knees, you tried to catch your breath reaching a hand towards your throat that no longer had Billy’s harsh grip but still felt tight. You could hear something happening in the room, but couldn’t fully make out the words and your vision was too spotty to see anything.

“Eddie.” You croaked out before falling to the ground and passing out.

[mazeofyeni]

(🔴) ... [ NOW PLAYING ] [ STARSTRUCK] EP. 1 | 마크를 찾아서 !

(🤍)... outfit for the video !

"how does it feel to be home?" she turned to haechan. "what?" she said. "how does it feel to be home?" he repeated , mark rubbed his temples. "im not from la id- both of you stop it." she kissed the back of her teeth.

"do you know what 'starstruck' means?" the staff asked. "cece." jeno turned to her. "Wah, its jeno!" she said plainly. "that's what it means."

"mark?" "when you see a celebrity ... you're so surprised , it's something like that right?" he said. "when you see a celebrity?" jeno questioned. "uh- um i can't think right now." mark said, she laughed. "this is making it seem like we're dumb."

"starstruck means to be fascinated by stare like you." the staff explained. "told you." she said.

"today, we're giving you a special chance to repay starstruck kpop fans here in la." they all clapped. "that's great!" they boosted.

"todays reactions are going to be real." chenle said. "But!" the staff interrupted. "we can't just give you the chance... you must clear four quests today, to earn the food truck to repay your fans." the pd said. "we can do it!" They cheered each other on. "maybe." she said. "stop being negative."

"your first quest." they listened closely. "is to find mark in la." they were confused. "excuse me?" she said.

"we have to find a mark?" jaemin asked. "really? you're kidding me?" she asked, they all were a bit shocked.

"wow... this is going to be hard." most of them were a bit shocked and nervous about the quest. "i think it will be fun." chenle said. "la is pretty big and we're supposed to 3 of them, odds are crazy." she said. "and we can't count our mark as one?"

no they couldn't — they split up into teams. "let's do some shopping." mark joked.

they went into the apple store hoping to find a mark , sadly they couldn't film in the store , and there wasn't any marks in there anyway."

"this is so nerve wracking." she stressed. "like the most basic name and we can't find it." mark scoffed. "no offense mark." she said.

"are you sure there are a lot of marks?" jeno questioned. "where there any marks during school?"

"my teacher name was mark." the older boy said. "the boy who lived next door from me, his name was mark." she said. "and there were two marks in my class, so i guess we just have bad luck."

"this is really hard everyone." mark said. "this is like being dropped off in the desert."

"you go ask them." mark pointed. "who." she hoped he wasn't talking to her. "you go." he said. "b-but why." she said. "because you haven't asked anyone , go."

"but they look like they're my age." she said. "that's terrifying." she said, walking over to the group of people. "h-hi." she waved, they politely spoke back. "this is a weird question, but is there any chance any of you named mark?"

they looked at her confused , before shaking their heads. "no." she pouted, turning to jeno and mark. "no." she turned to walk away, but one of them stopped her.

"im a fan." she smiled. "you are!" she exclaimed. "oh my god." she laughed. "can i have your autograph." the boy handed her a pen. "sure." she quickly signed it. "thank you." she waved walking away.

"they knew who we were." she said, meeting back up with them. "they wanted my sign." she held on to jenos jacket to keep up. "but still no mark."

"people must think we're crazy." she laughed. "we're walk around asking if they're named mark with a bunch of cameras." she laughed at the situation. "our cece is going a little crazy right now." mark said. "she doesn't get out much." "im stressed."

"should we give up and go back?" jeno said after much walking around. "this is so hard." she said. "maybe we're just not looking in the right place."

they both started calling out the name, making her cover her red face. "this is so." she was going through it to say the least. "yo mark!"

"yeah?" someone said making her stop. "what's your name?" she asked the boy. "mark." she gasped, stopping the boys. "his name is mark."

"that's actually crazy." their mark said. "wassup man."

they exchanged pleasantries with the couple in front of them. "so do you have any plans for today?" their mark asked. "why does it sound like you're asking him on a date?".

"im gonna see frank ocean tonight." mark number 2 said. "im jealous." she said.

they finally found their mark, taking them back to where the others were, to meet the other marks.

"they're having a mark meet up." she laughed to the camera, listening to their conversation.

chenle and jisung finally returned with another mark, completing the mission. "finally!" she clapped. "we did it."

©️MAZEOFYENI

[luveline]

Hello hello!!! First of all i love all you shy reader fics 😭😭😭 that's literally my favourite part about tumblr!! Also if you can, may i request sirius x shy!reader. something like reader does something cute and sirius goes all mushy and fuzzy because they are so cute!!!! and showers them with kisses and cuddles . Also you can choose if you want to make the reader female or gn!! Thank you

tysm! and thank u for ur lovely request, i hope this is somewhat what you meant ♡ gn!reader

Sirius spots you waiting for him outside of the museum and beams. He checks himself before you can catch him smiling, forcing his expression into one of a cool neutrality. 

"Hey," he calls. 

You do as he'd done; you beam, catch yourself and tone it down into a sheepish little grin that makes him want to kiss you badly. 

He tries to abstain from public displays of affection. He knows they're your worst nightmare, though how he can be expected to contain his affection when you're looking as lovely and as ridiculously happy to see him as you do is beyond him. 

Your shyness has slowly, slowly abated over time. You remain moderately hushed, but you can meet his gaze without flinching and you've accepted a great handful of goodnight and goodbye kisses.

Sirius is used to begging for your affection otherwise. He's happy to do it. He always wants to go at your pace, of course, but he wants to be close to you so deeply it aches. He's far from too proud to ask when he wants things. 

Sirius nudges the back of your hand gently with his and waits for you to nudge back before he intertwines your fingers and pulls you into the museum. 

"Where do you want to go for dinner after?" he asks, all business.

"Where do you want to go?" you ask, almost tripping over the step up into the main auditorium. Great stone carvings line the walls, the room deathly silent. he catches your arm and steadies you without complaint.

You gaze up at the seemingly endless ceiling and your lips part. Sirius watches a dawning sense of awe slacken your previous features. 

"How about Mazzio's?" he asks.

You blink back to attention. "Pizza?" 

"Is that not what you want?" 

You avert your eyes to a large doorway made of porcelain skulls. "I'll go wherever." 

"You sounded surprised." 

You drift around the room together and pause at a smaller statuette. It seems to be a woman posed against a wall, her hip, face and little stone feet meeting at the same invisible point. 

"Maybe we could go somewhere fancy," you suggest.

He pushes down his surprise quickly. "Yeah, sweet thing. Wherever you want." 

You take the lift upto the second floor and walk through the gallery. Old oil paintings stretch up the walls, meticulously placed. 

"I just… want us to," you squeeze his hand unthinkingly, "do what everyone else does." 

"Who's everyone else?" he asks. 

"Normal couples." 

His eyes flit to your face, surprised and delighted. You're looking up at a painting, your face once again slackened in awe. He watches your eyes take in each corner of the painting and his heart skips.

"We're a couple?" he asks.

You flinch. "We're not?" 

He throws his gaze around the room before stepping close as he can and taking your face into his hands. You gawp, plainly, eyes widened and lips pulled into a shocked smile. You're the cutest person Sirius has ever met. 

"Is that what you think?" he asks softly, so you know whatever answer you give is okay. 

"I did think that, until… you know, a few seconds ago." 

Sirius can't believe it. This whole time he thinks he's courting you and you're already seeing him as – well, as your boyfriend. 

He kisses your cheek. When your breath hitches happily he kisses you again, again and again and again until he must've kissed every inch of skin on your lovely face. You giggle at his touch and he can feel the heat of a warm flush bloom under his hands. 

It gets harder to kiss you as your laughing grows, his own laugh summoned in turn. 

"Sirius," you beg, giggling, "stop, stop." 

"We aren't a couple," he says, which horrifies you, until he continues, "because I haven't had the chops to ask you yet." 

He steps back, takes your hands, and gazes at you steadily. "Can I be your boyfriend?" he asks seriously, though fondness for you lightens each word. His exuberance is catching, your eyes lit with mirth. 

"Yeah," you say. You nod voraciously. "Yeah, you can be my boyfriend." 

He takes you by the waist and spins you. 

That really makes you laugh, louder than he's ever made you laugh before. It's the best sound he's ever heard. 

"Sirius," you plead, a mixture of weak and giddy. 

He stops his attack of affection and settles for just holding your hand. 

He doesn't know about you, but he barely takes in the paintings. Monet, Dante Gabriel Rosetti, Raphael, John Constable, Birmi. All masters, and yet none of them could make anything as pretty as you, flushed and giggly and clinging to his hand for dear life. 

[gayemeralds]

important question: what are your top 5 favorite qualities of sonic’s character?

rattling you like a snow globe i am. OOOOOOOH i love sonic's character so much let's see (in no specific order)

1) moral ambiguity

sonic's not a typical goody-two shoes protagonist and i think that's super interesting, especially considering how his other "rival" video game protagonists at the time (like link and mario, etc) were. sonic's not a very cut ad dry character- he is a simple guy, sure, but when you start to peel away at some of his layers.... he's a lot more nuanced than you're lead to believe

sonic's very much a live by my own rules sort of person. and while his rules sort of match up to him being the good guy, it doesn't always make him "heroic". he killed king arthur under the complete understanding that king arthur was a real person. he kills erazor djiin. he encourages elise to kill solaris. sonic's not afraid to fight dirty, and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty when the situation calls for it.

most protagonists are more of a "we have to save everyone" or "if we kill the bad guy we're just as bad as them" type. but i think sonic specifically is interesting, because he does help some overcome their misdeeds- like knuckles, shadow, silver- but ultimately it's because those people weren't that bad in the first place. they were misguided and manipulated and confused. if they had a full grasp of the situation at hand, chances are, they would have chosen a different path. and even if they didn't, they still showed the potential for true growth.

but for a lot villains that are simply plain evil... sonic doesn't seem to particularly hesitate. sonic's attack in satbk would have undoubtedly killed merlina- he didn't know her well enough to assume that she could choose a different path, and was willing to act first and talk later, knowing he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it.

not even with eggman. he was going to let his counter part in satsr fall to his death, until shahra convinced him not to. he's used excessive lethal force before, especially in the classic games. and then of course there's the implications that sonic lets eggman get away because he finds their adventures fun. like yes, sonic's going to stop him- everything eggman does is against his principles. so sonic's going to fight him. but sonic is also a thrill seeker and a daredevil, and wouldn't life be quite dull without eggman?

2) villainous qualities

it sort of ties into sonic's more moral ambiguity but i think sonic's interesting because a lot of his qualities, depending on the framing, could be quite villainous in nature. a guy who chases after adventures, who fights just for the thrill of it, who's stubborn and doesn't ever compromise, who lives life by his own rules and doesn't care if the breaks other peoples rules?

if sonic ever chose to be a villain... he'd make a pretty good one. he has a different set of morals than others and he doesn't like compromising on his beliefs. he thinks he's right, so he's going to act on it. and quite a few sonic villains share a similar point of view- that their revenge, that their opinion, is correct, and they have no intention on listening to anyone else's.

additionally... sonic's not particularly shy with manipulating those around him. you can see this characteristic plainly in sonic x and idw, where sonic manipulates his friends into trying to get him off a boat and shadow into not killing eggman.

deep down, sonic isn't that much different from rouge, for instance. they're both thrill seekers who don't compromise on their beleifs and are, in some senses, quite selfish. they're very self driven and independent and are great manipulators. the only difference between the two of them is that sonic seems to have a bit more compassion. they're two sides of the same coin.

3) environmentalist

i kind of miss the messaging of the older games... sonic was always invested in maintaining the beauty of the natural world around him. he fights a villain who essentially pollutes just for the heck of hit. he started this heroing gig with little more motivation than protecting his woodland animal friends and their homes.

it wasn't always about gods and the hubris of men pretending to be them. at the very beginning, it was just about protecting a tiny island in the middle of the ocean and the little critters who lived there.

it's also interesting to note how this can translate to other scenarios, like with merlina. she wanted to go against the natural order of things, she wanted to try to create an eternal kingdom- sonic saw through her selfishness and also tried to convince her that some things just were meant to end. and sometimes you just have to enjoy it as it was.

4) kindness

i think the last point also segways into sonic's kindness- again, sonic didn't necessarily start this mission to save the world. sonic did this to save those little animal friends. he stepped up to the plate and challenged a mad scientist armed with thousands of robotic drones and fought him.

i think the best instance of his kindness is in sonic 06, where that same compassion actually causes the end of the world. sonic's insistence on helping elise, and not just saving her but getting her to smile, ends up dooming the world. he forms a bond so strong with her in the small amount of time they'd been together that seeing him die causes elise to cry for the first time in ten years. it's his death that sets causes the apocalypse, all because he was compassionate.

it's this kindness, too, that i think adds more nuance to his character. because sonic is at his core a devil may care daredevil, who only does what he thinks is right, and who only does things for the fun and the thrill of it. but its not entirely true, because sonic will go above and beyond the demands of the situations he finds himself in.

saving tails from his bullies? sure. he doesn't believe in oppressors of any form. but then essentially adopting that kid and letting him tag along on adventures, despite his solitary nature and unwillingness to settle down or be tied down? not necessary. saving angel island and giving knuckels abck his master emerald? well, he can't just let eggman win. befriending knuckles after? not necessary. helping shahra stop erazor djinn from devastating the arabian nights? well it's not like he's got anywhere else to be at the moment and it looks like a fun challenge. promising to get shahra to smile and taking the hit for her? not necessary. defeating merlina after she shows her true colors? it's what he thinks is the right thing to do, and her disregarding the natural order of things is just plain wrong. but trying to console her after they attempted to kill each other? unnecessary.

sonic is a bizarre juxtaposition of selfish and selfless. he's here to have fun and constantly seeks out danger, but he's not just willing to save the world- he's also here to help you smile.

5) subversion from usual "speed types"

sonic's also interesting to me in a sense that he's not really your average speedster, personality wise. yes, sonic can get impatient, and he that can lead to him being reckless, but for the most part... sonic isn't afraid of taking things slow and steady sometimes.

sonic's hobbies outside of fighting bad guys include reading, looking at pretty natural landscapes, and snoozing. when he's not fighting a bad guy he travels the world but otherwise has some pretty mundane, rather slow hobbies.

think of the usual speedster archetype- fast talking, always on the move, never sits still, chatty and friendly and kind of annoying.

and sonic can be all those things, but sonic's also allowed to be pretty slow. he's allowed to laze around and read a book or take a long nap. he's allowed to be solitary and non-social and quiet. he knows how to slow down and smell the roses. he knows to appreciate the moments he's got.

[lost-in-lamentation]

I'm really sorry if this isn't something usually written or slightly difficult to write, but I was thinking about how the brothers or any of the others would react to a MC who always wears a mask ? Like, they only ever take it off when their by themself and even then they still feel odd without it. So their immediate instinct when going out is to grab their mask !

It can be for any reason ! Body dysmorphia or just general shyness, anything

I deal with this myself, and I often get a lot of weird looks for wearing it since covid is less common now. I just have one preference !

-The MC needing a lot of reassurance and comfort before taking it off [ and even then or after a bit, they need to put it back on ]

To them it may feel like protection and security, so they rely on it a lot !

I'm really sorry if this is too long or hard to read, I'm not used to making requests (╥﹏╥)

a/n: hi anon! i totally get where you're coming from, you're not alone here. and no need for sorry! i'm glad you were so specific with the request, and i hope you find some comfort here! (´ω｀)

see end for more notes.

content: asmodeus and satan are curious as to why you never go out without your face mask. the reasons differ for each brother, please read the warnings before proceeding.

warnings: extreme body dysmorphia, panic attacks (asmodeus); shyness, appearance insecurity (satan).

comfort. satan, asmodeus x gen!reader (you/your). separate.

═  ˎˊ˗

satan.

for satan to be called confused was an understatement. he was beyond baffled that every time you agreed to an outing with him, you grabbed a mask each time from the box that sat atop your desk. if he was going to be honest, he never understood why you refused to go anywhere without one. after a long period of observation, satan realised the only places he saw you without a mask on was in your own room, or at the dining table. the very idea that you hid yourself away sparked his interest, which in return lead to a new period of research. much to his dismay, personal reasons would never show themselves in textbooks. instead, he decided to tackle the source (you) instead.

satan found you in the library, of course, mask on, flipping through the notes you had made during class earlier in the day. with a nod, he slid into the seat across from you, setting his novel down and propping his chin up against his palm. the way your eyes widened slightly didn't go unnoticed by him. neither did the way you pinched your mask and brought it higher up the bridge of your nose. behind the covering, you grimaced to yourself before clearing your throat awkwardly.

"is something the matter?" you asked softly, placing your notes onto the desk.

satan tapped his index finger just underneath his jawline. "why do you wear it everywhere?"

"... come again?"

"the mask," he said plainly. "don't you get tired of wearing it everywhere? i've read that some humans even complain because it gets hard to breathe."

you made a quiet sound of acknowledgement. "i just like wearing it."

"you're not a very good liar, MC."

a defeated sigh escaped past your lips. "promise not to tell?" after a nod from the demon, you steeled yourself to explain. "it's kind of dumb, honestly. i just get really shy when i don't have it on." at your words, satan sat himself upright, keeping his gaze trained on yours. "having it on makes it easier to talk to everyone. i'm not super good-looking, you know? so... i feel a bit more confident when i'm wearing it."

satan once again found himself far beyond confused. baffled, yes. perhaps, even dumbfounded might actually be the word he was looking for in this situation. his mouth parted slightly, and his hand slowly reached out to you, stopping at the side of your face. "you can practice talking without it on with me," he spoke in a tone that he reserved solely for you. "may i?"

you blinked at him rapidly, eyes darting around the room before landing on his. swallowing nervously, you finally nodded, your shoulders tensing when satan unhooked the mask from behind your ear. when it fell away from your face, you snapped your head to the side, feeling the heat run up your cheeks and turn into a blush. "would you look at that," satan purred.

"what?"

"you're actually very attractive."

"satan! you can't just say that!" your face felt like it was on fire. flustered, you scrambled to loop the mask around your ear once more, but the blush on your cheeks had already spread down to your neck. there was a beat of silence, and then a cough from you as you shifted in your seat to face anywhere but satan. "but, if you're willing," you whispered, shooting him a a smile from behind the mask, "i'd like to take you up on that offer."

knowledge was a wonderful thing. satan could never get enough of it. but when compared to the feeling he got when you relied on him, satan would rank knowledge as second. if satan could eventually have you get comfortable enough to go around without the mask, he'd see more of that smile he's craved since the first time he saw it.

═  ˎˊ˗

asmodeus.

"MC!!" the voice echoed throughout the hallways directly into the classroom you were studying in. you turned your head towards the doorway to see the fifth born practically skip inside, coming to a stop in front of your seat. "i didn't get to show you the new lip tint i got this morning!"

you released a sigh, letting your pen fall from your fingers. "asmo, can this wait until we get home?"

"nonsense! it's the best time of day to try it out. come on!" you couldn't help thinking that all you wanted was to be left alone to do your homework, but all your thoughts came to a halt when asmodeus broke your one rule. within seconds, your mask had come off and was only hanging off one ear. unwillingly, you shrieked and pushed yourself away from the demon, his words falling on deaf ears as you fumbled to put your mask back on. with tears in your eyes, you burst out of the classroom, all your belongings forgotten as you tried to return to your only safe space; your room.

as you returned to your room, the fear and disgust overtook you all at once. you slammed your door with a cry, fingers digging into your scalp as your back collided against the wall. in the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your reflection. the hand mirror that had been so carefully placed on your desk showed you the mess that you were. disheveled and erratic, you stared at yourself, the mask doing nothing to hide what you were. in a daze, you grabbed it from the desk and threw it against the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces. you felt your knees give out from underneath soon after, and you crashed to floor in a heap. it felt like hours had passed before a hand tentatively came to rub your back soothingly.

you scrambled away from the touch, chest heaving as you tried to clear your vision. when you did, you saw the fifth born again, this time wearing a regretful expression. "MC, it's me. i..." his voice trailed away as he looked at you. "i cleaned up the broken mirror for you," he whispered. "and... i'm sorry."

your hands trembled at your sides, balled tightly into fists. "sorry for what?" the question sounded more like an interrogation, but you couldn't be bothered to watch your tone.

asmodeus looked at you sadly, his expression crestfallen. "i knew you didn't like having your mask off, but... i never expected you to freak out like that either."

"oh, so you're just calling me a freak now?!"

"no- that's not what i mean!" he inhaled sharply, internally scolding himself for not being the best with words. "let me rephrase," asmodeus began softly, his thumbs twiddling nervously. "i'm sorry for taking your mask off. i didn't know that it would affect you that much."

at the sight you of starting to relax, asmodeus felt the tension in his shoulders begin to slip away. you glanced at where the shards of the mirror should have been. "... i see myself in the mirror, and i see something i don't want to be," you admitted. it took every effort for asmodeus to not interrupt with a shallow sounding comment. "i wear a mask so that i don't have to see myself. so that no one else has to see me."

carefully, asmodeus shuffled closer to you, settling himself a few feet away. "i have some experience with that," he confessed to you. relief bubbled inside his chest when he saw you turn to make eye contact with him. "becoming a demon wasn't easy," he continued on, a bitter look gracing his face. "but maybe it'll help me help you with this. what do you say?"

"i don't know if i'm ready for that." you replied hesitantly, staring at the floor instead of him now. "but when i am ready, will you still be willing to help me?"

the smile on his face managed to lift your mood too. "i'll always be ready to help you," he promised, holding a hand out with only his pinky extended. you mirrored his gesture from where you sat, curling your pinky around thin air. asmodeus wasn't sitting close by, but you could feel his sincerity from miles away.

a/n: i was gonna have three chars originally but.. i kinda liked how these two went and couldn't think of a good situation for the third. anon i hope this finds you well!

reblogs are really appreciated (´ω｀) ♡

[agostobuwan]

What are your favourite acting moments of Taylor as Alex?

I thought long and hard about this one, but I have three!

(1) Alex’s Speech

There is just something about Taylor as Alex speaking about queer liberation that just makes me feel so warm inside. As Alex, he lays his entire heart out for the whole world to see, allows the world to know that he fell in love with a man, and he tells a truth that goes beyond the screen. And it’s a message everyone needs to hear and listen to over and over again because it’s just so important.

It’s all about doing things on your own terms, and not having to conform to an idea someone else has of you. A lot of us tend to forget that, and I love how the movie lays it all out plainly as a clear reminder.

And just like Henry, I thought that speech was beautiful.

(2) The Lake (Almost) Confession

It’s the way Taylor can easily shift from a carefree playfulness to something more subdued, more vulnerable, as he builds up the courage in Alex to tell Henry that he loves him. The scene is set up to be entirely focused on Nick’s face and the emotion conveyed in his eyes as Henry reacts to Alex’s confession, but I’ve always paid attention to Taylor’s voice and the way it dips low and shakes slightly with anxiety. His voice is so soft, so careful, that it almost caresses you the same way he’s gently drawing shapes into Nick’s back.

This is also the turning point in the film where things get worse before they start to get better, and I start crying when “If I Loved You” starts playing.

(3) Storming KP

Obviously, the film doesn’t outright convey the same anger that Alex has in the book, but to me, while Taylor’s interpretation of the scene still conveys that anger—albeit more subdued—he mostly plays on Alex’s sadness, betrayal, and confusion when he and Henry argue. This is also a place where we see the most vulnerability I’ve ever seen from Taylor (excluding the bedroom scene with Nora before this).

When we get to those tight shots of Taylor’s face, his lips tremble and his eyes are wet, and you can just feel his anguish, feel how much Alex loves Henry even though he knows Henry won’t say it back.

Henry’s lines get me crying the most, but it’s Taylor’s expressions to those words that absolutely kill me.

(I also love the little fun fact that taylor and nick couldn’t stop hugging between takes or be mean to each other LOL)

[lo-sulci]

What are heaven will be mine & coquette dragoon?

oh my goodness, thank you for asking!! the short answer: they are incredibly good visual novels that I highly recommend, especially if you're a fan of mecha, sci-fi, great world building, yuri, and generally just amazing art created by transfems

long answer:

heaven will be mine (aside from being where I got my url) is the second VN made by worst girls games, best known for their first outing, we know the devil (also an absolutely amazing game). hwbm tends to ask a bit more from the reader than its predecessor- while wktd almost exclusively featured three characters and dealt with rather plainly stated themes of alienation, loneliness, and religious trauma, hwbm presents a setting cloaked in metaphor where human will literally shapes the universe and psychic mech pilots read spacetime like a narrative.

the cast is bigger, with the three routes allowing insight into each of the three main girls in addition to members of the factions they belong to, all in service of a beautiful story about queer people connecting with each other and finding/making their place in a world that would want to deny them their happiness (and a lot of other things, but I'm simplifying some here). begging to be replayed over and over, i've had different characters and details stick out every time ive played through the game, while also gaining a deeper understanding of and appreciation for hwbm's characters and setting. I've loved hwbm and wktd for years and expect I will for years and years to come, which, incidentally, is why I got a pair of tattoos based on these games LMAO. in other words: they're fucking fantastic and hit like few other things out there, imo

coquette dragoon is one of those other things, because holy shit does it excel at hitting incredibly specific and relatable emotional beats that are liable to absolutely tear you apart. created by ivy burgeroise, who (by her own fantastic description) makes art for sad perverts, coquette takes place during a seemingly endless war between the lilac fleet and the duchy of lucia, two spacefaring societies inhabited by animal people who have very differing opinions on magic.

focusing (so far) on xiomara rosales of the lilac and lady honey rose of the duchy, coquette explores painfully human stories from both sides of the war. (to that point, I'd be remiss if I didn't advise you to look out for the content warnings- coquette gets into some very heavy stuff and speaks about it very frankly and honestly, which is to its credit imo but i also understand that that is not something that everyone is in a space to deal with.) more than anything else, I feel, coquette is a work that puts words to feelings that you'd never before been able to describe, and, through the vulnerability of its author in making something so emotionally honest, makes me want to be more openly and happily myself. all of this in a story that examines war, exploitation, and the societal structures that prop them up, among many, many, many other things. I could keep talking in circles gushing about it, because I am so so obsessed with what's been released so far and so indescribably excited to see how it progresses in the future, but to keep myself from going on for too too long i'll cap this off with a tweet about coquette that i frequently think of and is one of the best recommendations I can offer:

OH and also coquette has wibbleburger, which, as we all know, is your favorite

[vespaer77]

You just did the impossible. You changed someone’s opinion online. I can see Gale now. Thank you!

Listen, I'd be the first to forgive anyone if they didn't share my feelings. Gale is the worst about filling in the gaps in his story, and I filled a lot of them by suddenly taking an interest... and then going out to the Forbidden Realms wiki pages and doing supplementary reading on Mystra and Blackstaff Academy which made me first go, "Oh." And then, "OH." And then finally, "Oh my god."

It's like the same criticism I have about Star Wars, haha =) In order to know the whole story, one has to have seen x and y shows and read z comic book. Otherwise you wouldn't know that Kylo Ren wasn't actually responsible for the destruction of Luke's temple, which is somewhat critical yet relatively hidden information.

I *hated* Gale in early access. He was my dead last least favorite character. They changed him somewhat in full release (not to mention he was infinitely hotter, lol), but it wasn't until damned near the end of the game when I was like, "Wait... wait a minute." I think that's also why they did to Rolan what they did - in the same place, even. While we were completing Gale's companion quest. Rolan was the clue, the tip off. Another insufferably egotistical wizard. Suffering abuse. They laid the parallel out so plainly and I still walked right past it until Gale read the book and suddenly took a very surprisingly dark turn. And I felt so silly that it surprised me so.

And I was so disinterested in Gale at the time that I saved his companion quest for basically the last. Sort of. I think I did Gortash after him. But I got to watch all the other companions face their abuser and win. I got to help Wyll break his contract AND free his father. I got to help Shadowheart free herself from Shar and return to the open arms of Selune. I got to help Halsin fix his past mistakes and return Moonrise to its former self. I got to help Astarion face his abuser at long, long last and free himself for the first time in his own memory, along with thousands of others. And Sebastian <3 And then I even helped Karlach face her abuser and bring him to justice.

But what did Gale get to do? Where was his freedom? His catharsis? When he faced his abuser, the only thing that happened was her expressing her disappointment that he was still alive, that he didn't choose her above his own self-inflicted demise. And then she subjected him to yet another new pact that still indebted him to her. Because he's a wizard. No matter what he does, as long as he draws breath and casts spells, he'll always be indebted to her. And it just felt so... hollow. Unfair.

it made me FEEEEEEELLLLLLugh things haha! And then I was like, fuck. No, I do. I like this character.

OKAY I LOVE HIM, ALRIGHT? THERE. I SAID IT.

So I unbelievably and totally and with full chest and face understand and respect it. Not every character is going to be to everyone's tastes. If anything? It just proves how well these characters are written. That this team of writers were capable of such subtlety and depth. I'm not sure I could do the same justice to a fictional creation of my own. I'm just in awe of Larian Studios =)

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Something that bothers me in the worldbuilding of She-Ra is how Etheria doesn't feel like an actual planet

Every kingdom is like, miles alway from each other and the heroes can just walk to each one of them super easily. We never had an explanation on why there's some people who look animalistic while other look more human (i always assumed that the humans would be descendants from the first ones since Mara also looks very human, but since they all seemed to have left the planet i think that woudn't be possible)

And we don't really have a sense that the planet have multiple species. Like, we see that there's animalistic characters but there's never an explanation on what their species is, where they come from, etc. We never found out what is Double Trouble species, or Glimmer's, or those random goat characters that apear from time to time, it seems like they just wanted to make those characters...because!

The race thing is never explained in She-Ra, it feels a bit like the old Star Wars movies where they just made the aliens design without thinking on context, just because would make it looks cool. And it did, and we later found out where these guys come from, but we never have this with She-Ra

Also, everyone was kinda racist, they just call Rogelio "lizard guy" and the heroes seem to be disgusted at DT transformation

(And do they even have animals in Etheria? Or is kinda like pokemon where they mentioned an animal but that in the context of the show woudn't exist?)

this bothers me too. the worldbuilding is so lackluster, it hardly feels like a world at all. it feels like a 2d cutout of a planet. we never learn the difference between the cultures of each kingdom, because there seems to be no culture. and that's just realistic because culture and traditions are something that naturally comes about in a place where a bunch of people live.

i know i sound like a broken record but again, the reason atla's world seemed so real was because each nation had its respective culture and traditions, you could plainly see the difference between earth kingdom civilians and water tribe citizens, or fire nation locals and the air nomads. culture was, in fact, an important part of the narrative because it was the source of aang's biggest dilemma.

in spop, etheria is like a hologram or a metaverse kind of thing. apart from the heroes and villains, no one else matters. we never see the perspective of the civilians. and this is especially important because there's a fucking war going on. that doesn't just affect heroes and villains, it affects everyone. people were dying but that isn't really focused on because the crew was more interested in writing teenage conflicts and forced romances.

anyway, i digress. like you said, i wish we had gotten more explanation as to why some etherians were more animalistic and some weren't. they don't seem to be divided into groups and there's no explanation to why they are like that. its just for the ~ a e s t h e t i c ~. i'm not sure if the rogelio and dt thing counts as "racism" since they're different species, not different races. but it does feel a little iffy when put into perspective.

they do have animals in etheria btw, we see horses (swiftwind was literally a normal horse that was turned into a pegasus later) and i'm pretty sure there were aquatic creatures too? there was also melog though he's not a "normal" animal by any means.