#*the only theory book i own and actually use
Text
I was watching Commander Pierce, today and had some thoughts. I feel like, this is one of those episodes where the viewer is supposed to think Hawkeye is being a jerk with his "leadership style," and how he overdid it etc. etc. but the more I think about it... the more I feel bad for him. I don't think he was actually at fault here as much as initially thought.
Hawkeye knows who he is. He knows what his faults are and doesn't try to pretend they aren't there. He even says he isn't fit to lead. His insignia is a cringing chicken. He doesn't know how to give orders. He legitimately gives every reason putting him in charge is a bad idea - and not one person takes him seriously. I feel like sometimes, throughout the show, this theme reappears. People don't listen or take Hawkeye seriously because he says things in such a way that makes it sound like he's cracking a joke - but behind every joke there is some semblance of truth. And it feels like an argument could be made that that particular consideration isn't often awarded to Hawkeye. It's the exact opposite of BJ - who delivers a lot of very telling statements calmly and collected and no one pays any attention. Like when BJ says in Our Finest Hour that the war has made him angry, and we all act surprise (the only person who doesnt is Hawkeye) when he lashes out in BJ Papa San. It's the same idea. They aren't taken seriously, and that feels like the most dehumanizing thing, which in turn feels like commentary on soldiers/draftees in general. They are just chess pieces in one large game that never seems to end.
But anyway, Hawkeye doesn't think he can lead, but he really is a natural leader. He leads by example and by not following protocol. By thumbing his nose at rules and regulations - and that is actually working until the influx of wounded and the lack of physical hands available to help. So he defaults to the only option readily available to him. The "army way". There are rules and regulations and standard operation procedures, that in theory, are supposed to help lead. They are supposed to be ways to get themselves to the other side of a situation. So Hawkeye tries to abide by them, use them to his advantage, but with people who are conditioned - by Hawkeye himself and commanding officers continuously allowing it to happen - to NOT play by the book. So what do they do? They lash out at Hawkeye. They make him out to be the worst leader and doing a terrible job - which isn't entirely fair to him.
Hawkeye didn't have the confidence in his own natural abilities to lead and to get them through everything, and fell victim to thinking the "army way" was designed to actually help.
And while I think BJ was honest upon his return, and did exactly what "Captain Pierce" would've done, I don't think he was actually mad at Hawkeye or "Commander Pierce." I think it's one of those situations where he wasn't mad, just disappointed. I like to believe (re: it's possible and I'm in no way saying this is absolutely what happened but it's open for interpretation) BJ was the first person (maybe the only person) to recognize that Hawkeye would've done just fine if he had led as himself and not tried to be the exact thing he normally despised.
Thanks for coming to my messy MASH talk.
#commander pierce#analysis#i dumped all this on bard and thought it wasn't really terrible#but i still don't want to tag it in multiple ways in fear it gets ripped to shreds because#as always i'm here for a thirsty time not an intelligent one
25 notes
·
View notes
Note
taking a count of the episodes, Stolas is likely to appear in 8/12 of them - literally two third of the entire season. meanwhile the other members of IMP have been thrown to the wayside to make room (and the show potentially intends to introduce yet more Goetias...)
I've got a theory about the themes of s1 and s2 and tbh I think it's fairly supported by the text. so the theory is basically this:
Season 1 is the Blitzo season. Season 2 is the Stolas season
but when you compare the two, it's...telling
Season 1 - basically a whistle stop tour of most of the people Blitzo has hurt in the past (Fizz, Verosika) and the ways in which he is on track to mess up his current relationships in his new life if he doesn't change (pushing boundaries with his employees by stalking M&M, needing to give Loona some space to grow up, being a liability to his own business through his lack of professionalism and impulsiveness).
In the effectively two part finale of e6&7 (not counting 8, it does little to tell us stuff we don't already know) it is made brutally clear that Blitzo desperately wants love and intimacy but doesn't know how to get there because he doesn't know how to be vulnerable with people. He ends the episode crying on the couch while knowing that despite having people in his new life, he's still alone and will remain so if nothing changes
Season 2 - opens on a flashback to Stolas as a child where it's revealed the woman he cheated on was an evil monster since birth and only he was the victim in the arranged marriage scenario. He was the only victim when he was forced to have a child he didn't want and the only victim when he kept the marriage going despite it not working for anyone involved. He coerced Blitzo into a sexual arrangement in season 1, but Stolas was the real victim there because...um...Blitzo seduced him for the book and took it after a one night stand, even though sex with Blitzo was something Stolas clearly wanted but didn't have the guts to admit (and he was also the first one to make it sexual, claiming Blitzo came to ravish him for no logical reason whatsoever after shutting them in a room together) and anyone with a brain should be able to figure out that if someone robs you after a one night stand then ghosts you, they aren't actually into you. Sings about how what's between them is a 'lie' despite Stolas initiating it and deluding himself the whole time.
From then on nothing is his fault. He refuses to take any responsibility for his daughter running away and him somehow being unable to find her because he didn't memorize his own spells (he gets out half an apology for forgetting Astaroth's tears before the writing forces Via to let him off the hook). Sexualizes Blitzo some more after being told not to, right when Blitzo could have used some genuine support and comfort.
Spends the rest of the season having people come to his defense on his behalf and having his history with Blitzo being rewritten to include sweet offscreen phonecalls. Decides his cheating didn't matter because Stella never loved him - never mind that the family name is all she's got since she isn't royalty like him, and his adultery is making a joke out of her. Doesn't actually apologize for Ozzie's. Goes to Ozzie for a crystal then acts weirdly shy and says 'no, never that!' when Ozzie talks about lust despite lust being the defining feature of his relationship with Blitzo even into s2.
Is likely to spend the rest of the season shaming Blitzo for not loving him, barely doing anything to address Blitzo's problems with him...and then will promptly be rewarded with Blitzo's love, either because Blitzo gets jelaous when the plot hands him a new boyfriend or because Blitzo decides Stella abusing Stolas means he's a good person, actually
like when you lay it all out it's kind of impressive.
Season 1 is a mostly effective deep dive into why the main character is the way he is, why it's hurting him and an indictment on the current way he lives and behaves
Season 2 is non stop coddling of Stolas and hitting the nail of the viewers' memory of season 1 with the constant hammer of Nothing is Ever Stolas' Fault and You're Wrong if You Think Otherwise, We Called Striker a Bigot to Prove It
what's even more galling is that at least part of Blitzo's behavior is due to being raised in poverty by an abusive father who taught him stealing to get ahead was the right thing to do. part of the chip on his shoulder now is due to people underestimating imps (they don't run businesses often, according to Striker, and most other city imps we see are working low paid service jobs) and thinking they can treat them however they want. but the show will still attempt to frame Blitzo as being in the wrong when he acts out and have characters hold him to task, even if the writing is half-assed about it
meanwhile Stolas is a literal prince but he apparently can't bear the minimum amount of pushback from Blitzo. he's had the power to treat imps like objects his whole life but the show circa season 2 won't permit him to do anything but the minimum amount of introspection about it
God it’s enraging the more I read through this, and you can really tell rich people wrote it. Season one was fantastic, season two shat all over it because that one Erin frost fanart was eaten up like crack and made canon. (Sorry frost it’s not your fault)
Don’t act like what we have is anything but you wanting me to F you ok you make that really clear all the time
Is the best line in the show.
Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince
Is the worst. You could replace prince with “rich” “white” “a man”
Like holy shit you have an abrasive but endearing guy with friends in a tense precarious connection, but they fucking love him and he loves them despite his worsening quirks, with him honestly being the second most toxic one after Loona. Someone who’s been sexually objectified his whole life and just needs respect, affection, open communication, and gentle reassurance, but someone who can also keep his ego in check. Not someone who puts their needs over his and hates when he has feelings that aren’t convenient. Hears him out when he breaks down doesn’t shove him away.
Like hmm I dunno I’m just spit ballin here
“Why didn’t you try to tell me any of this?”
“Misunderstanding or no, it’s hard to just forgive you”
“What do you want, a medal?”
“You’re pretty good at this action hero bullshit”
“He earned it (love)”
Sorry I could talk about them for hours…they’re just so good together it hurts. Even as kids they bounced off each other but fizz kept him in check.
What he doesn’t need is mind games, public humiliation, a glorified martyr, somebody who demands constant favours and takes and takes until there’s nothing to give. And only reaffirms to him how much of a nothing he is when he has no right to do so. You aren’t owed a relationship. That’s monstrous. Stolas is literally an incel.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Leo
#art tag#finally understood what a limited colour palette is#rlly makes things a lot easier#s/o to gurneys book d#*the only theory book i own and actually use#this one's all emerald violet and red#i also managed to (once again) drop my watercolour box#it's very humid so all my sticky sticky little tubs went off to collect dust and dog hair#not to speak of having to put them back into order with half of them just looking like various shades of vaguely hued dark
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay I'm almost done with Fellowship, here's an incomplete list of shit I noticed and thought was buck fucking wild on my first ever read-thru: medieval edition.
In literally the second line of the book, Tolkien implies that Bilbo Baggins wrote a story which was preserved alongside the in-universe version of the Mabinogion (aka the best-known collection of Welsh myths; I promise this is batshit). This is because The Hobbit has been preserved, in Tolkien's AU version of our world, in a "selection of the Red Book of Westmarch" (Prologue, Concerning Hobbits). If you're a medievalist and you see something called "The Red Book of" or "The Black Book of" etc it's a Thing. In this case, a cheeky reference to the Red Book of Hergest (Llyfr Coch Hergest). There are a few Red Books, but only Hergest has stories).
not a medieval thing but i did not expect one common theory among hobbits for the death of Frodo's parents to be A RUMORED MURDER-SUICIDE.
At the beginning of the book a few hobbits report seeing a moving elm tree up on the moors, heading west (thru or past the Shire). I mentioned this in another post, but another rule: if you see an elm tree, that's a Girl Tree. In Norse creation myth, the first people were carved from driftwood by the gods. Their names were Askr (Ash, as in the tree), the first man, and Embla (debated, but likely elm tree), the first woman. A lot of ppl have I think guessed that that was an ent-wife, but like. Literally that was a GIRL. TREE.
Medieval thing: I used to read the runes on the covers of The Hobbit and LOTR for fun when I worked in a bookshop. There's a mix of Old Norse (viking) and Old English runes in use, but all the ones I've noticed so far are real and readable if you know runes.
Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you once spent months of your life researching the early medieval art of galdor, which was the use of poems or songs to do a form of word-magic, often incorporating gibberish. If you think maybe Tolkien did not base the entirety of Fellowship so far around learning and using galdor and thus the power of words and stories, that is fine I cannot force you. He did personally translate "galdor" in Beowulf as "spell" (spell, amusingly, used to mean "story"). And also he named an elf Galdor. Like he very much did name an elf Galdor.
Tom Bombadil in fact does galdor from the moment we meet him. He arrives and fights the evil galdor (song) of the willow tree ("old gray willow-man, he's a mighty singer"), which is singing the hobbits to sleep and possibly eating them, with a galdor (song) of his own. Then he wanders off still singing, incorporating gibberish. I think it was at this point that I started clawing my face.
THEN Tom Bombadil makes perfect sense if you've read the description of the scop's songs in Beowulf (Beowulf again, but hey, Tolkien did famously a. translate it b. write a fanfiction about it called Sellic Spell where he gave Beowulf an arguably homoerotic Best Friend). The scop (pronounched shop) is a poet who sings about deeds on earth, but also by profession must know how to sing the song or tell the story of how the cosmos itself came to be. The wise-singer who knows the deep lore of the early universe is a standard trope in Old English literature, not just Beowulf! Anyway Tom Bombadil takes everyone home and tells them THE ENTIRE STORY OF ALL THE AGES OF THE EARTH BACKWARDS UNTIL JUST BEFORE THE MOMENT OF CREATION, THE BIG BANG ITSELF and then Frodo Baggins falls asleep.
Tom Bombadil knows about plate tectonics
This is sort of a lie, Tom Bombadil describes the oceans of old being in a different place, which works as a standard visual of Old English creation, which being Christian followed vaguely Genesis lines, and vaguely Christian Genesis involves a lot of water. TOLKIEN knew about plate tectonics though.
Actually I just checked whether Tolkien knew about plate tectonics because I know the advent of plate tectonics theory took forever bc people HATED it and Alfred Wegener suffered for like 50 years. So! actually while Tolkien was writing LOTR, the scientific community was literally still not sure plate tectonics existed. Tom Bombadil knew tho.
Remember that next time you (a geologist) are forced to look at the Middle Earth map.
I'm not even done with Tom Bombadil but I'm stopping here tonight. Plate tectonics got me. There's a great early (but almost high!) medieval treatise on cosmology and also volcanoes and i wonder if tolkien read it. oh my god. i'm going to bed.
edit: part II
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
X + Y = YOU AND I || jeon wonwoo
PAIRING: academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 8.6k
GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au
SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.
WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love
Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well.
Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth.
Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse.
He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you.
And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.
“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”
He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying.
“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”
“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”
With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you.
You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours?
It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably.
You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead.
“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”
He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless.
“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”
And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.
“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair.
He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying.
Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.”
You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment.
“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”
“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what– That’s not true.”
His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone.
“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him.
The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side.
Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep.
(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.
You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.
He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.)
It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you.
“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”
“Huh?”
Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.
“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”
You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat.
“Maybe he’s an asshole.”
“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they?
Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows.
You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”
“You, mostly.”
“Excuse me?”
He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though.
“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”
“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.”
He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.
“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”
You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now.
“I–”
You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over.
A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.
His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”
Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face.
—
“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”
This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices.
“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”
“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow.
“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”
“Me?”
You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good.
“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”
“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”
“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”
“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”
“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”
“Like he wants to kill me?”
“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”
“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”
“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”
“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”
“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.”
“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”
“Funny you had to clarify that.”
“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
—
Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams.
You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree.
“Are you okay?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”
“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”
Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you.
“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”
“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think.
He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”
Your heart falters in embarrassment.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”
You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement.
“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”
It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die.
“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”
He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too.
“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.
“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?”
He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.
“Great.”
You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave?
A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow.
“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”
You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle.
“Yeah, whatever.”
You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset.
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now.
He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder.
It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly.
You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair.
“Thank you.”
The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.
More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he’d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today.
“It’s nothing.”
But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something.
And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike.
—
When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming.
Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that.
Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that.
“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.
“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”
She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.
Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.
“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.
“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t.
The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.
“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first.
“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”
“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”
You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”
He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.
“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”
“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed.
You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain.
It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.
You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him.
“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment.
“It’s okay.”
And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.
“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”
“Of course.”
A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.
You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it.
“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.
Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book.
Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.
“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand.
He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know.
You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables.
Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter.
You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now.
“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”
Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”
Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.
“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation.
“Mind if I join?”
You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity.
After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked.
You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat.
“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”
The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself.
“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”
Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”
You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”
You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right.
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”
He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too.
Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.
Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him.
The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight.
You like him. God, it feels weird to admit.
“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.
“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask.
“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.”
“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.
“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest.
“New. You make it sound so pretty.”
You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day?
“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.
“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”
You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him.
Finally, he smiles at you.
“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”
His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it.
“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest.
He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left.
—
To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement.
You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too.
In some ways, it stayed normal.
Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.
This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath.
“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly.
You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you.
There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you.
“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you.
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”
The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened.
Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow.
“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”
His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back.
“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.”
You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze.
“Or what?”
He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.
Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly?
He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often.
Then how come he can’t solve this one?
You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now.
“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”
You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?”
He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable.
“Like this.”
And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours.
Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly.
A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too.
Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath.
Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.
You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.
“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”
Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.
“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart.
“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”
He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was.
“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”
“I never had any in the first place.”
And with that, you pull him close for another kiss.
He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches.
Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love.
He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you.
So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students.
“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.
He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him.
Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.
“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing.
“Sure about what, Woo?”
He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back.
“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”
You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension.
Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters.
“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain.
Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content.
Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.
You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan.
“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”
You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.
He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy.
You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air.
“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly.
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed.
It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile.
“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk.
You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes.
Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor.
Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach.
“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance.
You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest.
He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”
Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit.
“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”
Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out.
“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?”
You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder.
His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy.
You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock.
Wonwoo smiles.
“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”
In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt.
Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing.
He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit.
He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter.
“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit.
“I know, baby.”
Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming.
“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”
“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”
You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven.
“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”
He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out.
He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.
“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true.
Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now.
You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free.
“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.
Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”
“I think we did get lucky, though.”
You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t.
Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.
You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class.
“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”
“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
TAGLIST: @just-here-to-read-01 @syn-hhj @nikkell @dollyji
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
Headcanons of Tim and Damian’s Love/Hate/But-Mostly-Begrudging-Love Relationship (They’re My Babies)
They will take EVERY opportunity to be a little bitch to one another
Tim: “Don’t get too close to me. You probably have rabies.” Damian: *actually bites him*
Damian tripped Tim once, which started an all out prank war that lasted several months. It only ended when Bruce walked into a glue trap and couldn’t reach his phone to call for help. But he couldn’t figure out who put it there so they were both grounded. (It was Tim.)
Tim teaches Damian to finish his vine references when Bruce tells them they need to “bond.” They proceed to try and speak in exclusively vine references and TikTok sounds during patrol. Bruce benches them for his own sanity.
Damian: “I’m not touching you” *gets pushed down the stairs*
Tim: “I’m not in your room” *gets hit in the face with a book*
Tim calls Damian short even tho he’s only like two inches taller for quite a bit of time (and Damian never hears the end of it after Tim’s growth spurt)
Family Game Night could go in one of two ways: they’re opponents and spend the whole night one-upping each other OR they team up and wipe the floor with everyone else’s pieces
Damian: “Just trust me.” Tim: *remembering that one time Damian tried to kill him* “Okay.”
Tim: “Don’t ask questions.” Damian: *recalling the multiple genocidal Tim variants* “Whatever.”
During one Wayne Gala, they make up this game called Freestyle Checkers where they choose guests as their “pieces” then subtly manipulate them into walking to their opponent’s side of the ballroom without talking to someone from the other team or they’re out. No one can know that they’re part of a game or their opponent wins by default.
Bruce is proud of them at first for being more sociable during galas until he realizes what’s going on and immediately loses five years from his lifespan.
Both have attempted to fake their deaths to get out of the same school project
They’re both notorious for stalking people to get information instead of just…ya know…asking like a normal person. So they’re bound to team up one day.
Like maybe it’s Bruce’s birthday soon and both are like “No, I’m getting him the better present,” but then they run into each other in the vents trying to find out what he wants and they end up trading secrets. Just brotherly things
Tim: “I need you to follow this guy for me. I think he’s our culprit.” Damian: “I would rather die than take orders from you.” Tim: “I’ll buy you that fancy oil painting kit you want.” Damian: *already changing into his Robin gear* “Where is he?”
Tim makes Damian play the dumb, helpless kid in all of their covert operations, which pisses Damian off until he gets so good at it that he uses it to his advantage and annoys the hell out of Tim when they’re paired up for public appearances
“God, he’s so annoying.” “Yeah, totally.” “What the fuck did you say about my brother?”
Damian is the only person who can get Tim to actually sleep for once. No one knows how he does it, but the strongest theory so far is blackmail
Tim “I’m ignoring Bruce’s instructions because they failed the vibe check” Drake and Damian “I can totally do this mission that requires four people on my own” Wayne teaming up behind Bruce’s back and immediately getting into deep shit but somehow making it out alive with the bad guys behind bars.
During one of said missions, they thought they were going to die and said “I love you” to one another. After they survived, they silently agreed to never mention it again.
Damian gifts Tim a new board that he designed for his birthday. It took weeks. Tim cries
#tim drake#damian wayne#batfam#dc#dc robin#red robin#robin damian#batfamily#incorrect batfamily quotes#they love each other#dc universe#damian al ghul
7K notes
·
View notes
Text
3000 AS character drawings
(Clearsight, Listener, Thoughtful)
I suppose this might be a new collage? Probably not a complete one, but I would like to draw some of the characters from this time period that I liked or found otherwise notable.
I wanted to include Clearsight's parents in this post, but the prospect of drawing five full-body pictures of dragons in one post filled me with some kind of emotion, so if I do that, it'll likely happen later.
Clearsight
The mother of pantaloons herself. She is described as slender, beautiful, and as having purple eyes. The graphic novels so far have one depiction of a Nightwing using future-sight and it shows her eyes glowing an eerie white while she does it. Clearsight's method of using her clairvoyance is very unorthodox, but I like to imagine she still gets this effect when she looks ahead at future events. Only in her case it looks less ominous and much more casual. I picture her sitting at the dinner table with her eyes lighting up every few minutes, until her mother finally goes "now dear, we've agreed; no future-vision during meal time." So she sighs and silently continues eating her beet salad.
Also, obligatory mention that the silver scale in the center of her forehead is, once again, a reference to my partner @flamebringer0 's theory about Nightwing powers and indicates the presence of prophetic powers, like eye scales would mark a mind reader.
Listener
Clearsight's bestie is described as large, long-necked, and curvy, and seems like a good extroverted foil to someone who spends most of her time cooped up inside her own head. She comes across as a bit of a romance-obsessed airhead, but some of the things she tells Clearsight are actually pretty reasonable, and I like to think Clearsight becomes more appreciative of Listener's ideas and influence once she departs the continent and they are separated.
Apparently she later writes a scroll about Clearsight being the most brilliant prophet who ever lived. I would like to know how that affected her life, considering the Nightwing tribe probably remembers Clearsight as "that lady who was fawning over the crazed warlock we all ran away from". Did Listener catch push-back for publishing a laudatory script about someone like that?
Thoughtful
Here is glass boy. The book describes him as handsome with circular glasses. I accidentally drew him a bit more chubby than I intended, but honestly, I think it suits him. He looks very pleasant and friendly, which seems to be in line with his general character. I am actually very happy with how this drawing turned out.
Also, he is not bipedal in this picture. He is resting his weight on his two hind legs and tail. I think of this as "tripod stance"; it's a body posture a dragon can assume to free up their front legs to do precision work. It is relatively stable, but grows uncomfortable if you stay that way for too long (tail cramp).
Also, you can't really walk like that. To walk on their hind legs with any kind of proficiency, a dragon has to place both of their wings on the ground to substitute their front limbs.
#wings of fire#wof#dragon#digital art#wof art#flawseer art#wof nightwing#wof clearsight#wof listener#wof thoughtful
494 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fire Is The Devils Only Friend
Chapter Five
There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him
1.1K
Series Masterlist
Carlos didn't tell her that he had bought her book. He didn't mention it when he kissed her goodbye, leaving her with Piñón. But it was in his bag as he headed to the Grand Prix.
With Rebecca Donaldson at the Grand Prix, there was very little Carlos could do to show her that he loved her. But any spare moment he got, he was reading her book. In his drivers room, in the back of the garage when he wasn't needed, he had her book open.
Fans noticed immediately. They first noticed that he was reading. But then they took notice of what he was reading. At first it was no big deal. She'd been in the garage a couple of months ago, so it wasn't the most outlandish thing in the world.
But then one fan pointed out that the book had only been released in English. He was reading the book in English!
The theories from the fans started. Well, were they theories if they were correct? The ferrari media team watched if all unfold. They knew they had to get on top of it and quick.
So, while she was sending her mother a picture of Piñón with his head on her lap, a picture was circulating instagram. She hadn't touched instagram since the day she found out about Carlos and Rebecca, and she didn't touch it this time.
A screenshot from Carlos's account, his latest post, in fact, was he and Rebecca Donaldson, hand in hand as he kissed her head, popped up below the picture she had sent her mother. 'Is this him?' Her mother had typed beneath the picture.
"Fuck," she choked, turning the phone off and throwing it to the side. Piñón went to chase after the phone, but she held onto his collar, crying against his fur.
She thought she was okay with it, but she wasn't. She hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with seeing that picture.
"He kisses my head like that," she said to Piñón. "I don't think we have any pictures like that together."
Of course, she didn't know the context, didn't know why that picture had been posted. She didn't know it was because Carlos had been caught reading her book, and that fans were beginning to get suspicious.
She wiped her tears and grabbed Piñón's lead. Taking nothing but a set of keys, she left their house and took Piñón for a walk.
It was therapeutic, taking Piñón on his walk. He led the way, taking her on the trail he usually walked with Carlos. The three of them had never gone together. It was usually Carlos. Normally, when she took Piñón, she was careful, avoiding main roads and potential pictures being taken.
But, today, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
"Is it my fault?" She asked Piñón as she sat on a bench. "I mean, if I hadn't been so against us being public in the first place would this have happened?"
Of course, Piñón didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He was a dog.
She thought she could do this. She certainly loved Carlos enough to try. But this, seeing another beautiful woman doing all of the things she wished she could do with him, was too much.
And even if Carlos publicly broke things off with Rebecca for her, he'd always be seen as a cheater and she'd always be seen as the other woman. It could ruin her life.
Well no, that was exaggeration. But she didn't see it that way, she wasn't going to see that way, not for a while. At the moment, Piñón was the only thing keeping her there.
Carlos was on the podium. It was a win, actually. She watched on the television as he stayed ahead of the rest of the grid. He was showing Ferrari exactly what they would miss if they dropped him. It gave her a little slither of hope.
But that hope soon dissipated. She wore a small smile as Carlos climbed out of the car. He ran over to celebrate with his team, and then his father. The father that didn't know she existed.
Behind his father, she was there. Carlos hugged her as she stepped towards the barrier. Hugging wasn't so bad; they couldn't be seen ignoring each other, after all.
But then Rebecca's hands were on his face and she pulled him in for a kiss. The camera zoomed in on them as Carlos shut his eyes, melting into her.
Fuck, she couldn't do this.
For the second time in two weeks, she packed up her things and placed them in her car. Tears rolled down her sheets as she turned the few frames full of pictures of her and Carlos around so that they were facing the wall.
Last, she grabbed Piñón's bed. He wasn't her dog, and she had no intention of keeping him from Carlos, but she was going to take him with her, keep him well looked after while Carlos was away.
And then, when Carlos came to pick him up, she'd break up with him.
Piñón sat in the back of the car as she drove to her mother's house. "Oh, buddy," she whispered. As they drove. He slept on the drive, unaware that anything was wrong. She couldn't help but be envious of him, of how unaware he was of what was going on.
Her mother opened the door as soon as she saw her car coming up the drive. "You couldn't do it, could you?" She called, watching her climb out of the car.
She scowled as she grabbed Piñón. When she saw him, her mother gasped and let out a laugh. "You kidnapped his dog? That's hilarious," she said taking the dogs lead from her daughter.
Her daughter, who said nothing as she got her things from the car. Her mother could never understand this, could never understand what she was going through.
"I saw them doing all of the things that I wanted to do with him," she said quietly as she walked into the house and unclipped Piñón's lead. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch it, I couldn't watch him pretend to be with her while I sat at home, looking after his dog."
She scratched Piñón's ears. Piñón, who, at that moment, she'd miss most of all.
Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @not-nyasa
Series Taglist (OPEN):@juleswrites223 @ellessssssxzxz @itsjustkhaos @booksandflowrs @landossainz @laneyspaulding19 @sleepybrokenmelle @92spcy @khaylin27 @princessria127 @aexitizen-ln4 @russellette @cmleitora @shobaes @val-writes @rehenys @sam-is-lost @sp1rl @seasonswinter @nmw-am
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz x reader smut#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz x you#cs55#cs55 imagine#cs55 x reader#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
417 notes
·
View notes
Text
Headcannon that Steve is actually smarter than he let's on because he's so used to pretending to be stupid in front of his dad. Even though he never said, his dad always hated it when a kid was smarter than him. When he got mad at him for not getting into college, Steve figured that it wasn't him that was the problem but his dad. No matter what Steve did, he wasn't good enough for his father. Steve figured out D&D pretty quickly, not that he would tell Dustin that. It was always hilarious when Dustin got mad when Steve called it anything other than Dungeons and Dragons. He was so used to hiding the fact that he understood more than he let on. He even hid it from the party, even though they had been through so much together and they were more like a family than his own family had been.
It was Eddie who had caught on to the fact. He was always watching the former king of Hawkins High, curious to know about the mysteries he hid deep within. The kids always scoffed when he called him that: a mystery. They saw what they wanted to see on the surface: a man with no hidden depths. He was exactly who he said he was. Eddie knew differently. He watched him out of the corner of his eye and watched him smirk at every joke Steve Harrington shouldn't have understood. Eddie knew exactly what he was hiding. He decided to test his theory.
Steve hadn't been expecting it. They were holding Hellfire at his house since the school wouldn't allow them to host it on the property anymore. Steve didn't play, but Eddie allowed him to sit in to watch. While Steve was watching the game, he didn't know that Eddie was casually watching him. When the game wrapped up and Eddie called out to him while he was cleaning up, Eddie asked him a question that Steve shouldn't know.
Steve froze when he answered and looked up to see Eddie looking at him gleefully. Eddie pressed him, and eventually Steve broke, telling him all about his father. He told him how his father hated that he read so much. He hated that his son was such a nerd. He told him how his books had been his only source of comfort growing up because he had been left alone so often. He told him how he had to let that go in favor of sports, but he did eventually love basketball, but he hated being an asshole like his father. When he stopped crying, a thing he was taught never to do, he realized that Eddie was holding him in his arms.
"What else are you hiding from us, big boy?" Eddie asked softly.
Steve leaned over and kissed him. He pulled back, afraid that he had messed things up, but Eddie was smiling. The other man moved forward and kissed him so sweetly that Steve’s legs nearly gave away. It was a good thing that Eddie was holding him up.
"You don't have to hide yourself away, Stevie, not ever. Not with us, okay? And I know I made a big deal about it before, and I apologized to Lucas for it. It's okay to be a nerd and a jock. It's okay to like both."
#stranger things#eddie munson#joseph quinn#stranger things s4#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steve harrington#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie fanfiction#steddie ficlet#ficlet#stranger things ficlet
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Reading through the Tortall books in publication order is funny because you start with Alanna “the village healing woman taught me all she knew” going off to become a knight, and end with Numair “world’s most powerful mage” as young Arram Draper first learning magic at the Carthaki university. Because of the 40 intervening years and five(?) different series further developing the Tortall universe, the magic system is now SO much more complex.
Arram is learning an elementally-based, heavily theory-dependent form of magic where conceptual power is applied to physical objects or energy constructs. His teachers make him develop skills in non-magical areas like juggling, jewelry making, and gardening so eventually they can safely guide him through complicated applications of magic. In comparison, Alanna complains that Duke Roger is spending too much time on theory in order to prevent her and her peers from learning “actual magic” and becoming his rivals. And then she throws purple light at things until they explode or she passes out!
We also learn from Arram’s misadventures that most of “magic” is creating methods of applying, storing, and accessing power so the user doesn’t drain their own life force and pass out or die. Alanna uses NONE of these techniques; instead, she pulls her magic directly out of her own life force, thinks about what she wants it to do, and hopes she reaches that goal before draining herself. She even (sometimes) factors in the impact of magically draining herself of energy while attempting tasks that require both magical and physical endurance (such as when deciding how much magic to spend warming herself when making her blizzard hike to claim the Dominion Jewel.)
For one thing, this makes Alanna insanely powerful. In In the Hand of The Goddess, she breaks open Roger’s magically locked door (presumably designed by Roger himself-- an immensely strong and well-trained sorcerer) by shoving her own magic into it until it MELTS. This builds an Alanna who decided magical theory was useless at age 12 because she has an immense access to magical potential energy, and who never learns the basic life-preserving models of magic usage that are taught in intro-level classes. She doesn’t have an interest in learning more sophisticated forms of magic, except in healing, which she cared about enough to learn non-magically. So when she heals, she uses magic as a guide or a supplement, rather than depending on it and then draining herself.
Since she isn’t attempting complex magic, most of the time the limitations of drawing directly from her own life force doesn’t impact her that much. The things she does magically all have much more efficient alternatives, but they require an understanding of magical theory and ability to store energy that Alanna never learned! If she wants to do larger spells, she just keeps feeding energy into it until it breaks or she does.
The intervening series and Numair’s story makes Alanna’s simultaneously more and less believable. It now makes sense why everyone with even a slight understanding of Alanna’s type of Gift gets angry at times and tells her she’s using magic irresponsibly. (Before, we only understood Alanna’s side of the argument: “Well, I didn’t die and it worked, so calm down.” !!!) The fact that she never actually dies and only rarely is seriously harmed through her own magic use now requires some suspension of disbelief!
#I would love to see the moment when numair first saw alanna use her magic#and realizes that she pulls from her own life force to light a CANDLE#i'm sure they'd have a huge fight with numair trying to convince alanna to at least TRY meditating and alanna refusing out of stubborness#tamora pierce#sincerely cockleburr#tortall#alanna of trebond
4K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey there! How’s it going? If I may, can I request some headcaons on the obey me brothers trying to seduce MC? Please and thank you!
These guys have to literally take a 'seductive speechcraft' class at RAD, in theory they should be good at seducing, in practice not so much
Warning: slightly NSFW
Obey me brothers trying to seduce MC
Lucifer
He keeps it simple. He doesn't see the point of doing complicated mind games when he knows that MC will choose him. That's not to say he won't try to win MC over or make them feel special.
Between Lucifer encouraging MC to be bolder when it comes to their advances and his confidence there isn't anything that could go wrong, in his mind at least.
He is often assertive in a way that would make MC feel like being swooped off their feet while still leaving room for them to refuse. He will make sure they know he will take care of all of their desires.
He often invites them over, either to his study room or the music room to spend some time alone together where he can be more forward.
Mammon
Mammon is really smooth when it comes to flirting and seducing, just not when it comes to MC.
He is too caught up between being a tsundure and just being genuinely worried about making them uncomfortable by being too forward. Still, after a while he will get over some of his worries, he is MC's first man after all!
He is one of the most sought after models in the entire Devildom, he knows how to use his looks in his favour and how to get people's attention, especially MC's.
With how much time he spends with them, Mammon knows how to make MC feel like they are the only person that matters to him and to make them think about only him.
That also includes what words to say and in what way too touch them. Still, he always leaves it up to MC to decide if they want to take it further. He will let them take control so they could go at their own pace.
Leviathan
Tries to think of it like MC is a love interest in a video game, otherwise he would never be able to do it.
Tries to kabedon MC and it works at first, until he realizes how close the two of them are and panics.
Depending on the MC, his cringefail personality and being borderline pathetic and endearing at the same time would probably do the trick and seduce them imeanitworkedonme
Still, he has his moments where he can be more dominant! Especially if it would be in a virtual world, where he is more in his element. Sure, he would still be nervous but he would actually manage to flirt with MC.
To add to the previous point, he actually did that in a devilgram, where he lowered one of the sits in the car and told MC he could be in charge too.
Also I am sure he has at least 3 slutty cosplays. All he needs is a little bit of courage and he could use them.
Satan
A really by the book approach, the type of thing you would see in books. He has a lot of connections but most of them were not made by seducing other demons.
His attempts would be a bit awkward at first, feeling a little bit too stiff, but after observing to what MC responds the best he will start to get better at it.
Does MC respond better to words? Well he doesn't have high grades in seductive speechcraft for nothing. He knows how to get MC wrapped around his finger. Starting from innocent remarks to comments that would leave MC's imagination run wild.
Do they like physical touches more? He may be a little bit more awkward but nothing that MC would notice.
He is probably experimenting with new feelings too, cause seducing MC, someone he actually fell for, is way more different than his normal seductive speechcraft.
Asmodeus
Literally the best, that's his whole thing. Sure he has his eyes to help him, but he has been a lust demon for a long time, he knows how to seduce someone without magic. And like Mammon, he knows how to use his body to get other people's attention towards him and his body.
Has the best combination of lingering touches that just leave you wanting for more and of words the can be left up for interpretation, really making MC think that they want Asmo even without all the seduction.
He knows just from looking at MC's slightest change of reactions when to stop or when to push forward. He knows how far he can go with exploring their body without ruining the sexual tension. He would get them so riled up that MC would be the one initiating anything. In his mind he is just giving them a little push.
He also loves to tease them throughout the day only to disappear, leaving them wanting for more. He doesn't need to even see to know that he is all they can think about.
Beelzebub
I will be sincere, I don't think he really knows how to seduce people in the traditional sense. He would probably seduce MC by accident.
He would just call them in order to record his workout routine and when MC would get there he would be shirtless and sweaty, and they would have to sit behind a camera filming a shirtless Beel literally flexing his muscle
He would also lick food right off MC if they happened to drop some on themself. He literally licked wiped cream off MC's fingers in season 2.
He does all of these things by accident, and while he may be oblivious and not the best at seducing he isn't dumb. He will see how MC reacts and will start doing these things more often.
He would probably make them help him with his workout so MC could really get close to him to see and touch his muscles. post work out sex I am just saying
Belphegor
He really takes advantage off all the time cuddling with MC to see how far he can go when it comes to touching them, while still making sure they are comfortable.
It starts either with a hug from behind when MC is doing something else or with simple cuddles. His hands will start to wonder just slightly under their shirt or just barely over their thighs all while trying too see their reaction.
Everything he would say would be done so either with his face in the crook of their neck or as a whisper near MC's ear. It probably just be normal stuff at first, but the more he sees MC get into it the more he will start going about what he would actually want to do with them.
It's a really slow process but the little shit knows how to use his words and from what started as innocent cuddles it leads to MC doing nearly whatever he wants.
I also feel like he would go into their dreams and try to seduce them there too. This would led to MC having to seek Belphie out once they wake up from that dream.
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me x mc#obey me x reader#obey me headcanons#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me lucifer headcanons#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon headcanons#obey me mammon x mc#obey me leviathan headcanons#obey me leviathan x mc#obey me satan headcanons#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmodeus headcanons#obey me asmo x mc#obey me beelzebub headcanons#obey me beelzebub x reader#obey me belphegor headcanons#obey me belphegor x mc
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Aziraphale, I love you. But you lied. And here's why.
Okay. I’m not gonna beat around the bush for too long. It’s time now for me to also throw my try at a personal Good Omens Season 2 Magnum Opus into the mix of already existing magnum op..i? Opusses? (Smited? Smote?)
If I’m honest, it isn’t fully my own magnum opus, as I read this meta not too long ago that made me go: „Oh! My God! That’s it!“ And I’m pretty sure a lot of other people have clocked this too by now. Of course I’m not saying it’s the objective truth but after having mulled it over for many endless nights and days, wading through the onslaught of coffee theories, body swap theories, The Metatron re-writing the Book of Life theories and many, many more, this is the one I think is most plausible and, if you look closely, most obvious.
And it goes as such: Aziraphale lied.
To all of us. All of them. And most of all, to Crowley. He lied to him. Well, he sort of did and also sort of didn’t. He certainly didn’t tell the truth. At least not all of it. I hear you ask: “OP, what the fuck are you talking about”. I answer you: Let’s start from the top and under the cut.
(Small note: this meta ended up being way too large for Tumblr, which is why I will redirect you to an external doc at the end of the post, where I have written it all down nicely and accurately. It's about 35 digital A4-pages long, just in case you want to save it for later.)
(Word count: 12.831 | Approximate reading time: 50 minutes)
Let’s start with a short recap of what happens before the Metatron crashes the bookshop party and everything goes to shit. The proper visuals for this are in my Tumblr post but I am absolutely convinced that right up until when the Metatron comes to take Aziraphale away and talk to him, the angel is fully ready to get into Crowley’s Bentley-chariot and finally ride off into the sunset (or Alpha Centauri-set or whatever). You can see it in his face and body language. You can see when the penny drops for him that a) Crowley loves him b) he loves Crowley and c) they can finally start their happily ever after. Aziraphale realizes this all throughout said Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.
I mean, look at that. Look at it. This (very shitty recording, sorry, I'm not tech-savvy enough to avoid the Amazon Prime screen recording blocker) is the very second Aziraphale realizes hat Crowley loves him. When he hears him suggest Alpha bloody Centauri as a getaway for Gabriel and Beelzebub, as Crowley has done to Aziraphale for so, so many times now. He finally understands what Crowley was trying to tell him with that all those times.
Aziraphale realizes this all throughout the Brielzebub reveal in the bookshop. And he’s such a lost cause once he does.
Right when Crowley suggest Alpha Centauri as a nice getaway spot to the two, Aziraphale looks at him and he gets it. That Crowley has loved him, has been loving him for millennia. Truthfully, they've both known that for a long while now. But there's a difference between knowing, wanting, craving and actually being able to finally have something. And that's exactly what we see on Aziraphale's face here. This is it. This is where it all starts working out for Crowley and him. This is were they can start their eternity together.
So from that second on, Aziraphale only has eyes for Crowley. He keeps physically pawing at Crowley with complete heart eyes, as if to say „Look, look, that’s gonna be us too! Finally!" He’s actually so smitten that he doesn’t even hear what Crowley is saying when he asks Shax if he can have back his apartment now because he’s sick of living in his car. (Also, what way to drop that bomb right in this moment Crowley, lmao).
Once the Metatron comes in, the first thing Aziraphale says is that they don’t need to talk because „he’s made his position quite clear“. He doesn’t even want to talk to the Metatron, because in his mind, he’s already made the choice. Actually, he made the choice way before the bookshop showdown. For starters, I’m convinced that the Jane Austen Ball actually never was for Maggie and Nina but for Crowley and him (you can read more about that here). And apart from that, for this whole season we have seen Aziraphale trying to advance his relationship with Crowley romantically and domestically and move them to the literal next base (our car!). And after everything he just witnessed with Brielzebub, the final nail in the coffin of ethereal-infernal romance being possible, his choice is absolutely crystal clear: It’s Crowley. It’s always been Crowley and it always will be Crowley. And now it can be Crowley. They can be an us.
The whole of Season 2 is such a massive learning curve for Aziraphale’s character, with him remembering all those important pivotal points of his past, and this very moment is the peak, with him not only understanding that Crowley loves him (because he certainly knew for quite some centuries now) but accepting that love, letting himself have that love, being allowed to want that love and taking that love and starting their new and final chapter with it.
Nevertheless, the plot clock ticks for them. The Metatron saunters into the bookshop, evil and stinky as Metatrons do, and urges Aziraphale to come with him with his whole Take The Coffee schtick, which I will get into later. And Aziraphale, immediately sensing there’s Something Up, does. Can’t really turn down someone as high-ranking as the the voice of God, after all. Even if you were currently already planning how you were going to elope with a certain red-haired serpent of Eden.
he next time we see Aziraphale on screen, it’s so painfully evident on his face that he is neither happy nor excited. Not even the slightest bit. We’d know if he was, thanks to Mr. Michael master-of-microexpressions Sheen. None of the usual “Aziraphale is happy”-signs are there. No blinding eye-smile, no giddy wriggling, not giggles and gasps. No, when the Metatron tells Aziraphale to „go tell your friend the good news“, his expression looks like this:
I’m gonna go out on an entire limb here and say: That does not look like someone who’s absolutely tickety-boo hyped to tell his demon soulmate that he just got the juiciest promotion and that they can both be angels and live happily ever after in ethereal eternity now.
This, folks, looks like someone who knows exactly that the news he has to break right now, are going to be tickety-shit awful and very upsetting to said demon soulmate. And already, from that very short snippet of conversation, we can tell that Aziraphale isn’t really given a choice by the Metatron. Because while the Metatron does tell him that he doesn’t have to „answer right away“, he immediately follows it up by: „Go ahead and tell your friend the good news!“ Very distinct and definitive choice of words here. It’s “good news” because it’s already been decided. Because it’s already a done deal. There is no “yes, no, maybe”. This is the only choice he’s giving to Aziraphale. Because it’s ‘Coffee or death’.
And he already gave him the coffee.
***
Tumblr won't let me continue this over a certain character limit and I am not even remotely done yet – so, I feel like this is a good moment to redirect you to the continuation of this insane meta before we're in too deep. You can do so right here!
I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions about this once you've fought your way through it. Hope you have a good time with it!
#good omens#good omens s2#good omens season 2#good omens meta#good omens analysis#neil gaiman#aziraphale#crowley#ineffable husbands#good omens predictions#i lost my mind writing this#it must be nice to be able to be a casual enjoyer of media#who doesnt spend 5 days writing a 22 page document on an angle and why he lied to his demon boyfriend#my own meta
713 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hello friends, lovers, hereditary enemies, and fellow Good-Omens-brain-rot-afflicted!
Inspired by some lengthy conversations and the need for reassurance regarding a renewal for season 3, the lovely Eena @michaelsheens and I have decided to start a little Project!
(Sorry, Crowley, we had to…)
THE NICE AND ACCURATE PROPHECIES* WEEK
Running from SEPTEMBER 25TH to OCTOBER 1ST, it’s all themed around season 3 and the assumption we’re gonna get that renewal. (Manifesting, baby.)
✨ THE PLAN ✨
Every day will focus on a theme around which everyone who wants to participate is encouraged to create any kind of content they want to! Art, fanfic, edits, playlists, speculation, meta, go nuts!
(Also please don’t worry if something doesn’t fit neatly into a day’s theme; they’re only meant to give somewhat of a prompt and structure. Ultimately it’s not that strict and serious, we just wanna see your stuff :))
✨ HOW TO PARTICIPATE ✨
Share whatever your big heart and massive brain comes up with and use the tag #gomensnaap
(It’s like a long nap or something.)
You’re also welcome to give shoutouts to other people’s work you love and want to celebrate, but please make sure to link and credit properly (!!!)
Most importantly: have fun <3
✨ THEMES ✨
(under the cut)
DAY 1: “And there will be great lamentations.”
Let’s talk the Second Coming! We start off and warm up with everything plot-related. Theories, meta, crack ideas, let’s hear your thoughts on where you think the Big Main Plot is going to go!
DAY 2: “I can make a difference!”
For day two, let’s focus on Aziraphale’s arc in season 3. Did he go to Heaven with a plan? Or is he winging it? (Pun only somewhat intended.) Was he threatened or manipulated or both or neither? Will he tell Heaven just where they can stick it or can he actually succeed? What’s in store for our favorite angel?
DAY 3: “Hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”
Day three is all about Crowley and what we think he’s going to get up to. Is he going to go drink himself senseless and have a good cry? Go snek and hybernate for a bit? Hang out with Muriel and do some tempting? Does he have a plan and how will he cope being on his own?
DAY 4: “There was magic abroad in the air…”
Let’s talk Ineffable Husbands! How are Crowley and Aziraphale going to resolve things between them? Will there be a massive fight? Radio silence for days/weeks/months/years? Will they learn to Actually COmmunicate? Will there be grudges, grand gestures, secret meetings, a big rescue mission from either side?
DAY 5: “Extreme sanctions.”
On day six we wanna make ourselves anxious, sad and upset. (As one does.) What thing that may or may not happen in season 3 are you most worried about? Dark/depressed/evil/etc Crowley? Memory-wiped/brain-washed/archangel Aziraphale? Book of Life? How could Neil & Co hurt us the most?
DAY 6: “Do you…want a hot chocolate?”
After day 5’s spiral, it’s time for a metaphorical treat. What are you most looking forward to in season 3? What do you really want to see? Headcanons coming true? Scenes you wish for? Things that’ll make you wanna name your cat/dog/fish/insert other pet here Neil Richard Gaiman or Sir Terence David John Pratchett?
DAY 7: “It’s starts, as it will end, with a garden.”
Finally, to finish it all up, let’s speculate about the end of season 3. How do you think we’ll leave this story? Will things just go back to how they’ve always been? Will there be peace? Earth hidden from Heaven and Hell with a big 500 Lazarii miracle? Aziraphale and Crowley turned human? Or will they get their cottage in the South Downs for the rest of eternity?
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens season 3#good omens speculation#gomens#crowley#aziraphale#david tennant#michael sheen#neil gaiman#goodomensedit#goodomensgifs#goodomensfic#good omens fandom event#let's manifest season 3 friends!!!! <3#ineffable husbands#ineffable beurocracy
761 notes
·
View notes
Text
"What's wrong with the Acolyte being Jedi critical? It's okay to criticize them since they have a monopoly on the Force don't they?"
Okay, let me break this down.
1: The Jedi do not have a monopoly on the Force.
Say, remember the Nightsisters of Dathomir? The dark side cult that the Jedi tolerate. They even go there to negotiate in the Clone Wars without making any threats to their continued existence. The only time they ever come into conflict is when they leave Dathomir to mess with someone else.
They're not the only ones either. The media doesn't focus on it much, but there are dozens of different Force-based organizations in SW (Legends and Disney canon) that the Jedi Order coexists with. There's also the simple fact that the parents of Force sensitive children can simply decline the Jedi's offer which would indicate that there are people in the Galaxy with the Force who live independently from the Jedi.
As it happens the only organization the Jedi are constantly fighting are the Sith and for darn good reasons.
2: What's wrong with being critical of the Jedi?
Let's not split hairs here. The "criticism" the Jedi get nowadays almost always seems to end with, "and that's why they deserved to be exterminated down to the children via Order 66." So, pro-Jedi fans are a bit on guard when they hear that a project is "Jedi critical."
Now, in theory, there's nothing wrong with characters in-universe having disagreements with the Jedi way or having criticisms of them. However, despite the show's claim to not be about "good vs evil" I think it's VERY likely to posit that the Jedi are wholly in the wrong and to blame for the conflict in some manner. While downplaying the actions of the villain on account of them being a victim.
Why do I think that? Because the trailer.
3: "This isn't about good or evil. It's about power and who's allowed to use it."
Right at the climax of the trailer is this line. Which spells pretty clearly that the show is saying that just, doesn't matter if the Jedi are good, because they're also powerful and influential in their own regard. So in the show's mind that means they're the problem.
They might offer a halfhearted condemnation of the serial killer murdering them for no reason but chances are they'll suggest that they're not really the problem: that the Jedi are for being powerful. I've even seen quotes floating around saying that show will ask the question "what if the Sith are really just the underdogs?" when they go around blowing up planets.
As for the question itself. It's likewise silly as the Jedi don't actually persecute other Force traditions or force everyone to join them. They don't even force you to stay once you've joined. So it doesn't seem like they're attempting to control the Force at all. Meanwhile, the Sith want to dominate the Galaxy and either exterminate or enslave any opposing traditions.
So the question itself is self-defeating.
Oh and while I'm here...
4: There is no "endless cycle"
Slightly off-topic but it comes up a lot as a defense of the anti-Jedi mindset. It goes something like, "The Jedi perpetuate an endless cycle of war because the Sith keep coming back!"
First off, it's not the Jedi's fault that some lunatics keep popping back up to try and control the Galaxy. All they do is stop them every time they do.
Secondly, the "cycle" only exists because new books keep getting written. Stories need conflict and thus the Sith are revived over and over again.
Thirdly, please someone try to tell me that this could be avoided if the Jedi let their members marry or something.
And fourthly, the cycle's honestly not that bad because the Jedi just win every time and restore peace to the Galaxy for a long period.
#anti the Acolyte#Acolyte critical#the Acolyte critical#Star Wars#The Jedi#Pro Jedi#In defense of the Jedi#the Sith#the Acolyte Trailer
239 notes
·
View notes
Text
Postal 1 dude isn't evil (and is genuinely the most morally grounded and decent person we've actually met in the Postal Universe)
From what we gather he was living a very normal life prior to going crazy, not like the other dudes who go on senseless rampages when tasked with mundane everyday things. As Promo material does state he's a well educated and mannered person so it's only realistic that this man did have a genuine job and was generating a level of income prior to his decline in mental health and moving to Paradise.
And as stated before he is well mannered in the sense of being stated a "quiet nice boy" and "voted the most likely to succeed". From what we gather this guy was the text book example of a model citizen. The only "flaw" is that he kept referring to a girl he only dated once as his girlfriend but even then that could come down his delusions along with his lack of grip on reality causing him to genuinely think she's his girlfriend or the fact he's canonically quiet (as shown from the Promo material and also the fact that he doesn't actually physically speak AT ALL during the game) and most likely doesn't understand social ques as of it.
---------------------------------------
But the most important thing is that he doesn't even have malicious intentions.
The very first thing he proposes after being "attacked" by "groups of lunatics trying to invade his home" is.....go the sherrif for help. The Dude didn't have any Intention to go on a murder spree, he'd rather of just went to the authorities like any other average Joe. The whole thing really tells us that he's not usually a violent person.
Even rewinding back to level one: the war journals (and Vince) did state that the Dude was entirely convinced that he was being attacked by group of lunatics, one of which even firing rockets at him, goes without saying that self defence is really the only option here.
Course it remains solely as self defence until the Dude reaches the train station, the significance being his war journal where he writes "if I can get out i can warn everybody...YES, I CAN WARN EVERYBODY!". The dudes goal has shifted into saving the country as a whole rather than himself which ultimately steers him into going to the air force to find out what has happened to cause the supposed hate plague. The dudes actions represent him more as selfless now with him now doing this in the bigger scheme of things rather than his own self preservation. If its not clear already: maniacs wouldn't care about warning/ saving people from a hate plague, Dude 2 most likely wouldn't give a shit and let it spread since he was totally cool with nuking the entirety of paradise and its innocent civilians.
Furthermore he openly states that he doesn't want to kill people. At the trailer park he writes that "There must be others like me, immune to this...germ warfare or whatever it is". Practically he's saying that he'd much rather run into some normal people instead of having to kill them, it's a stark contrast to the other dudes with the Postal 1 dude appearing as genuinely empathetic whereas the others will literally kill people for something as simple as waiting in line and afterwards not think anything of it.
Also very worth noting that when he enters the ghetto he mentions he's genuinely worried he'll get mugged, we're really getting the picture that he's literally just some normal ass guy with the idea of going to the rough side of town shakes him up.
(Even worth pointing out that only for the ghetto does he go back to calling it a diary like he's momentarily lost his soldier/war mentality at the thought of going into the rough side of town).
---------------------------------------
So simple and short:
Postal 1 dudes literally just some average everyday guy (who's been through some really fucked up shit that's forever gonna remain unexplained beyond the veteran theory) who's trying to do the right thing but he's woefully misguided due to his deteriorating mental state as well as being possessed by an entity beyond his broken minds comprehension.
He's literally the complete opposite to every other postal dude (and if anything he's one of the most morally grounded people in the franchise as crazy as it is)
Oh and if this wasn't enough: rws did say on a twitter post that he's literally Just some average guy who's had some shitty days.
(I wrote this at 4am so soz if it's all over the place)
215 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been reading Cripping Intersex by Celeste Orr and one concept that I think is absolutely crucial and one of the best resources I've found for understanding my own experiences as an intersex person is the term Compulsory Dyadism.
Dr. Orr coins the term: "I propose the expression 'compulsory dyadism' to describe the instituted cultural mandate that people cannot violate the sex dyad, have intersex traits, or 'house the spectre of intersex' (Sparrow 2013, 29). Said spectre must be, according to the mandate, exorcised. However, trying to definitively cast out the spectre via curative violence always fails. The spectre always returns: a new intersex baby is born; one learns that they have intersex traits in adulthood; and/or medical procedures cannot cast out the spectre fully, as evidenced by life-long medical interventions, routines, or patienthood status. And the effects of compulsory dyadism haunt in the form of disabilities, scars, memories, trauma, and medical regimens (e.g., HRT routines). Compulsory dyadism, therefore, is not simply an event or a set of instituted policies but is an ongoing exorcising process and structure of pathologization, curative violence, erasure, trauma, and oppression." (Orr 19-20).
They continue on in their book to explore compulsory dyadism as it shows up in medical interventions, racializing intersex + sports sex testing, and eugenic and prenatal interventions on intersex fetuses. This term makes so much sense to me and puts words to an experience I've been struggling to comprehend--how can it be that so many endosex* people express such revulsion and fear of intersex bodies and traits, yet at the same time don't even know that intersex people exist? Why is it that people understand when I refer to my body in the terms used by freak shows, call myself a hermaphrodite, remember bearded ladies and laugh at interphobic jokes--yet do not even know that intersex people are as common as redheads? Understanding the term compulsory dyadism elucidates this for me. Endosex people might not comprehend what intersex actually is or know anything about our advocacy, but they do grow up in a cultural environment that indoctrinates them into false ideas about the sex binary and cultivates a fear of anything that lies outside of it.
From birth, compulsory dyadism affects every one of us, whether you're intersex or not. Intersex people carry the heaviest burden and often the most visible wounds that compulsory dyadism inflicts, as shown through often the very literal scars of violent, "curative" surgery, but the whole process of sex assignment at birth is a manifestation of compulsory dyadism. Ideas entrenched in the medical system that assign gender to the hormones testosterone and estrogen although neither of those hormones have anything to do with gender, a society that starts selling hair removal products to girls at puberty, and the historical legacy of things like sexual inversion theory are all manifestations of compulsory dyadism. For intersex people, facing compulsory dyadism often means that we are subjected to curative violence, institutionalized medical malpractice that sometimes includes aspects of ritualized sexual abuse, and means that we are left "haunted by, for instance, traumatic memories, acquires body-mind disabilities, an ability that was taken, or a 'paradoxical nostalgia....for all the futures that were lost' (Fisher 2013,45)." (Orr 26).
Compulsory dyadism works in tandem with concepts like compulsory able-bodiedness and compulsory heterosexuality to create mindsets and systems that tie together ideas to suggest that the only "normal" body is a cisgender one that meets capitalist standards of function, is capable of heterosexual sex and reproduction, and has chromosomes, hormones, genitalia, reproductive system, and sex traits that all line up. Part of compulsory dyadism is convincing the public that this is the only way for a body to function, erasing intersex people both by excluding us from public perception and by actively utilizing curative violence as a way to actively erasure intersex traits from our body. Compulsory dyadism works by getting both the endosex and intersex public to buy into the idea that intersex doesn't exist, and if it does exist then it needs to be treated as a freakshow, either exploiting us to put us on display as an aberration or by delegating us to the medical freakshow of experimentation and violence.
Until we all start to fully understand the many, many ways that compulsory dyadism is showing up in our lives, I don't think we're going to be able to achieve true intersex liberation. And in fact, I think many causes are tied into intersex liberation and affected by compulsory dyadism in ways that endosex people don't understand. Take the intense revulsion that some trans people express about the thought of medical transition, for example. Although transitioning does not make people intersex and never will, and the only way to be intersex is to have an intersex variation, I think that compulsory dyadism affects a lot more of that rhetoric than is expressed. The disgust I see some people talking about when they think about medical transition causing them to live in a body that has XX chromosomes, a vagina, but also more hair, a larger clitoris--I think a lot of this rhetoric is born in compulsory dyadism that teaches us to view anything that steps outside the sex dyad with intense fear and violence. I'm thinking about transphobic legislation blocking medical transition and how there's intersex exceptions in almost every one of those bills, and how having an understanding of compulsory dyadism would actually help us understand the ways in which our struggles overlap and choose to build meaningful solidarity, instead of just sitting together by default.
I have so much more to say about this topic, and will probably continue to write about it for a while, but I want to end by just saying: I think this is going to be one of the most important concepts for intersex advocacy going into the next decade. With all due respect and much love to intersex activists both current and present,I think that it's time for a new strategy, not one where we medicalize ourselves and distance ourselves from queer liberation, not one where we sort of just end up as an add on to LGBTQ community by default, not even one where we use a human rights framework, nonprofits, and try to negotiate with the government. I agree with so much of what Dr. Orr says in Cripping Intersex and I think the intersex and/as/is/with disability framework, along with these foundational ideas for understanding our own oppression with the language of compulsory dyadism and curative violence, are providing us with the tools to start laying a foundation for a truly liberatory mode of intersex community building and liberation.
*Endosex means not intersex
Endosex people, please feel free to reblog!
#personal#actuallyintersex#intersex#curative violence#compulsory dyadism#intersexism#interphobia#medical abuse tw#h slur#igm tw#disability studies#actually disabled
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
pawanzilpe
Pawan Zilpe
tehhzeebcouture
Tehhzeeb Couture
missmagooglie
A momentary fit of madness
glaivelord
jex
confusedantswithstolenjewelry
He knows me.