#i will most likely be reblogging this post at least for the next three? maybe two days so that it's not missed on the dash

[white-cat-of-doom]

I posted 2,327 times in 2022

827 posts created (36%)

1,500 posts reblogged (64%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-cat-at-the-theatre-door

@munku-collar

@white-cat-of-doom

@sillybub

@cassandra-has-moonlit-eyes

I tagged 2,321 of my posts in 2022

#cats the musical - 2,288 posts

#cats musical - 2,287 posts

#cats us tour 6 - 356 posts

#jellylorum - 262 posts

#victoria - 260 posts

#demeter - 253 posts

#bombalurina - 247 posts

#cats rccl cast 12 - 244 posts

#cats uk tour 2022 - 232 posts

#cats international tour 2022 - 230 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#part of me wants to change my avatar to one of these pieces but i cannot bring myself to take away the 2019 rumple i have had for two years

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Today is the day! The Il Sistina production of CATS opens tonight (07 December 2022) in Rome!

Below are some more specific character photos, outside of larger group photos.

Jacopo Pelliccia as Gatto Giò (Bustopher Jones, a separate character in this production).

Photos taken by Gianluca Sarago.

Gaia Soprano as Cassandra.

See the full post

133 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

#4

Everyone generally knows what the Rumpus Cat looks like in traditional productions, right? A bit silly, with funky hair and red eyes.

Meanwhile in Japan, the modern Rumpus Cat looks like this:

The hero we never knew we needed.

(Fukuoka 2021, January 2022; Kenshin Mori as Rumpus Cat, Miki Okudaira as Jellylorum, Eiko Kataoka as Rumpleteazer, Yuki Takahashi as Old Deuteronomy, Taijun Kanemoto as Munkustrap, and Yurie Sato as Bombalurina. Almost fully hidden is Haruaki Tamai as Mungojerrie.)

141 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

#3

Rehearsals have started for the production of CATS at Teatro Sistina in Italy, starting 07 December 2022, an officially licensed non-replica from RUG.

The designs are interesting in that they have reference sheets for both the makeup and costume.

See the full post

149 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

#2

The promotional pictures for the UK/International Tour 2022 have been posted!

See the full post

181 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I never uploaded these pictures last year, so I figured now would be a fun time to celebrate Pride Month again. Who better than with my favourite cast of Cats in Vienna?

See the full post

192 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[fiercynn]

okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.

here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.

and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!

and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.

and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?

maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:

continuing to send arms to israel

putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships

bombing yemen

bombing syria

bombing iraq

vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations

testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice

refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza

halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this

lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)

questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)

perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital

questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same

honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add

or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.

and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.

[lucyandthepen]

salted caramel | lmh ( m )

you hadn’t been aware that mark’s jealousy followed the rules of baseball — three strikes, and he snaps?

read the first part here!

pairing: barista!bf!mark x reader verse: college!au rating: r warnings&tags: unprotected sex, mentions of creampies (although not an actual one), hickeys, possessiveness and jealousy, exhibitionism, sort of phone sex in conjunction with said exhibitionism, oral (m!receiving), mark has an understated but unending obsession with mc’s stomach, tummy bulges, we always love an implicit bigdick!mark, donghyuck is kind of a little shit and basically he has to cross a few lines for this “plot” to get to where it gets word count: 20.3k

a/n: this is a bit rushed and panicked because I basically wrote it in a feverish 2.5ish days… i’m so sorry that the pacing might be a little off, especially since I can never tell if it’s actually too fast or not. this is also unedited and unbeta’d but oh well because i never edit my stuff before posting and just re-edit when I re-read! regardless, i hope it’s something that you can enjoy, and i couldn’t pick between sweetest bf ever!mark and hottest mf ever!mark, so i guess you get a little bit of both!

if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!

You should have noticed it the first time, but in your overall defense, you find most things that you take note of about Mark Lee to be more on the highly positive and greatly endearing side — or, maybe, you just have a tendency to paint him in that kind of light.

You can’t really help it; he’s still got that halfway shy, softly adoring look in his eyes whenever he sees you, which is more often now than ever before, and you just can’t do anything but reciprocate, if only to see his eyes grow a little brighter. You wonder if Mark’s aware that if this were a Shakespearean scenario, you’d easily fall on your sword for him without question, for as long as he asked, but you don’t think there’s any pressing need to remind him — not with the way you spend most of your free time figuring out ways to be with him. You’re certain he should know, what with the fact that every time he looks at you, even just a glimpse, your gaze is always on him, ready to make eye contact whenever he turns his head — something he often acknowledges with one of those signature blushes that spread like wildfire across his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears.

It also should be unmistakably clear that you’re head over heels for him, given how at least once a week, he’s got his face buried between your legs in an attempt to hear the thing he wants you to say the most (see: his name, in varying pitches and decibels) — but if he doesn’t notice then, you can’t hold it against him; Mark’s mouth is so attentive that you doubt his mind is anywhere else apart from what inch of you his tongue is going to meet next in that moment. At least, that much is true for you.

He should at least know, what with you waiting for his classes to end so you can walk to Starbucks for his afternoon shift; you even race the twenty-minute distance to the Department of Mathematics, still holding your European Renaissance History textbook from your last lecture, just to make sure you’re there right as he gets out — a fact he has to know is an act of devotion, considering how often he finds you heaving for air and leaning your back against the brick wall outside the Accounting 150 Lab. Even his professor knows you as Mark Lee’s admirer, which is all well and good, but if you had the breath to spare, you’d correct his terminology for accuracy. Girlfriend. You’re Mark Lee’s girlfriend.

It’s a fact you don’t mind reminding him of but that you actually have to do quite often, because when you call Mark the appropriate counterpart — boyfriend — his eyes still widen, like he’s hearing it for the first time. It’s cute, just like everything else about him. You just have to wonder, at times, if he doesn’t believe you.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter; you’ll just keep telling him.

You don’t have any classes with Mark this semester, which is a shame, considering your favorite pastime over the last few months had just been to stare at his side profile and wish he’d look over so you could kiss him, but the fact that you spend almost every day with him now, using that time to remind him of how much you want to kiss him and actually getting it to do it right then and there, pretty much more than makes up for your previous schedule of daydreaming.

However, hanging out with him doesn’t always mean you’re just with him; you came to learn this after the first week of the new semester, and you’ve now gotten used to the fact that with Mark Lee sometimes comes his band of tall, often loud friends.

The loudest by far is Lee Donghyuck, the mysterious figure last semester that you’d only known by one syllable, now easily recognizable (and no longer enigmatic by any means to you) by his booming voice and even more demanding personality. He’s supremely outgoing, a trait you can’t say you mind, but there’s an interesting contrast between Mark, who tends to say things after carefully considering his ideas, and Donghyuck, who seems to just burst out in fits of impulsive rambling that often leads to some kind of semi-structured debate. It kind of gives you whiplash, in a funny, slightly perplexing way.

The whole friend group likes to meet up at Starbucks while Mark is on his shift, and now that they’ve come to know you as that girl Mark didn’t teach a single thing in College Algebra to but still somehow got lucky with (something you’ve wasted immense efforts into correcting but have ultimately failed to do so), you now find yourself sitting with them, all somehow waiting for who appears to be the nucleus of this group to stop taking coffee orders and hang up his (cute, but you’re the only one that thinks so, actually) green apron.

Again, you don’t mind it; new people aren’t an issue to you, and you’re also interested in finding out more about Mark through those closest to him. You get to see the few ways they’re alike in contrast to the staggering number of things that make them amusingly different from one another. Despite the broad spectrum of their intersecting interests, you’ve come to learn, through the conversations you’ve had to sit through over the last month, that they have varying opinions on said interests. For instance, you know they’re all into video games, Japanese manga, and long-winding fantasy movies, but every conversation takes flight the moment there’s even a spark of dissent from one person — and the source, usually (and quite unfortunately), is Lee Donghyuck himself.

Today is no exception.

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Zhong Chenle practically seethes. Whether by sheer coincidence or actual desire, he’s the one who most often finds himself staring Donghyuck down, trying to bend the latter’s will into admitting defeat. Donghyuck, on the other hand, has mastered the art of looking supremely unperturbed, especially when Chenle is in the heat of his rage. “The ninth was the worst, hands down.”

“Art and rendering were so solid.” Donghyuck raises a finger, and you’re not sure if it’s to start off a list or to shut Chenle up. You don’t want to ask, anyway, too busy finding amusement in the shifting expressions of despair, rage, anguish, and murderous intent on the latter’s face to speak up. You presume that’s why everyone else isn’t stopping them — or maybe they’re just preparing their own defenses and points to raise. “Intuitive combat and flawless combo chains. The fucking open world? Which other installment in the franchise offers that much depth in the gameplay?”

“Depth? Do you even hear yourself right now?” Chenle grips his head so tightly that when he pulls his hands away, there are actual red marks across his forehead and temple, and his bangs are askew. “What kind of depth comes from cloned movesets? The character designs are so stupidly traditional too. And—”

“There’s a unique kind of beauty in familiarity.”

“The open world was a disaster,” Chenle plows on. “It was so empty, and the map was the farthest thing from intuitive. It’s quite literally the worst thing KOEI has ever done. That’s exactly why they went back to the limited map strategy in later installments. Even the spin-offs.”

“I thought the grappling and ambush systems were pretty intuitive. Ingenious, even.”

It’s a singularly amusing sight — Chenle is one insult to his pride away from imploding, and Donghyuck is just checking the dirt under his nails like he’s waiting in line to take his school ID photo. Park Jisung, one of the quieter ones in the bunch, tries to diffuse the tension by clearing his throat and going ‘I actually really liked the Age Of Calamity Zelda one they released with all the different campaigns,’ but that just goes unnoticed by either party.

“You once failed an ambush play just because you were stuck behind a wall you couldn’t scale. Don’t say shit about the ambush and grappling mechanics.”

“Unlike some people sitting around this table, I learn from my mistakes. That’s also probably why some people — not naming names — just can’t appreciate the artistic beauty that is Dynasty Warriors 9.”

Donghyuck doesn’t even look up from his cuticles when Chenle explodes.

“You’re fucking impossible!”

“Can you guys relax?” Lee Jeno, who had somehow miraculously found the space and silence in the breaths between the entire argument to doze off, opens one eye, only slightly irate. “You’re making a scene over a dead game franchise.”

“It’s not dead; they’re on hiatus,” both Chenle and Donghyuck chime in together, apparently finding a moment of unique solidarity to shoot Jeno down before going back to glaring daggers at each other. Jeno shrugs, gives everyone else at the table an I tried kind of exasperated expression, and settles back into his seat, the one eye already closing before he’s fully folded his arms across his chest.

Your eyes wander away from the group over to the counter. You’re thankful for the fact that most of the time, you just get invited to share a table with them without necessarily being trapped in the middle of a conversation — especially one as heated as the one Chenle is prolonging while jabbing his finger accusingly at Donghyuck, as if he’s trying to pin a crime on the latter instead of just explaining why Donghyuck’s opinion is ‘borne of ignorance.’ When they’re all caught up in their business like this, you end up being able to revel in your more or less unobstructed view of Mark behind the barista’s station, where he’s busy piping an extra helping of whipped cream on top of a strawberry frappuccino for a kid that’s already jumping up and down next to the pick-up station.

The biting winter had already given way to the first signs of spring, and the Starbucks Mark works at has a supremely effective central heating system that allows people to shed their coats. This works in your favor, considering Mark wears nothing but a button-up shirt over his apron while he works, and he’s got this habit of rolling up his sleeves so they don’t catch any stains. You’re pretty sure he has a second motive, though; surely, he’s aware of how the view of his arms, muscles tightening under his skin whenever he even lightly grips something, drives you crazy. You’d bet a month’s allowance he’s doing it on purpose so that you start entertaining the thought of yelling at everyone in the branch to fuck off so you can grab him by the front of his stupid shirt so you can kiss his stupid face. Or ride it.

And for some inexplicable reason, he still has the audacity to act like there’s nothing amiss. When he looks up at you right after pushing the frappuccino towards the little girl, his eyes still brighten, almost innocent in their gaze, the corners of his lips turning up surreptitiously, hiding the smile he seems to save for only you from everyone else in the room.

You smile back, but when he turns away to take someone’s order, you let out a heavy sigh and take a long sip of your vanilla sweet cream cold brew until you start reaching the last dregs of it under the ice. Your brain pretty much cries out in protest, but you know it deserves as much as a mental cold shower for entertaining the thought of asking him to bend you over the counter at five-thirty in the afternoon in a Starbucks.

Stupid Mark. Stupid brain. Stupid fucking people in the room.

The warm breath in your ear alerts you to a slowly approaching presence, but you don’t have the reflexes to turn back to its source before it starts talking.

“Got anything to add to either of our cases, ___________?”

“What?” Your palm comes up to rub your ear as Donghyuck pulls away, laughing lightly. You’re sucked back into the foreground of the conversation, but you’re just as lost now as you had been before you started tuning them out in favor of your lust. “Uh — no. Sorry. To be honest, I know nothing about… sorry, what were you guys talking about again?”

“See, that’s how normal people act,” Jeno grumbles, both his eyes flying open this time. “Instead of hosting a presidential debate about Dynasty Warriors.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” You’re quick to add, and Jeno looks mildly amused at your attempt to still mollify the rest of the group. “I’m sure I would have liked it. If, you know, I actually had been introduced to it at any point in my life.”

“And if you had, I’m sure you’d have the taste to assert alongside me that the seventh installment was revolutionary,” Chenle sniffs, but he’s looking more pointedly at Donghyuck, who’s still ignoring him, save for the fact that he’s now looking at you instead of at his nails (which doesn’t feel like such a great upgrade).

“Nah, she’d be on my side. ___________ looks like she’d appreciate a good, scenic open world and grappling system. Right?”

“Uh…” you say smartly.

“Man, shut up.” Chenle throws his hands in the air before he stands up, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back with astounding force. “Got me so pissed off I need to pee now.”

You have no idea what the correlation is between getting annoyed and needing to use the bathroom, but even if you wanted to bring up your doubts — which you don’t — Chenle is long gone before you can get your thoughts together. It’s only when he’s out of earshot that Donghyuck leans in, almost conspiratorially, to whisper to you again.

“Actually, I think the ninth sucks too. But isn’t it kind of funny how worked up that fucker gets?”

“To be honest, I’ve never known anyone with quite your talent in riling people up,” you admit, and even though you’re not sure what kind of meaning you want attached to that, you notice that he decides to take it as a compliment all on his own, his chest puffing out in pride. “Too bad I have no idea which opinion is really right, or I’d weigh in, too.”

“Not a Dynasty Warriors kind of girl, then?”

“No one is, Hyuck,” Jeno snorts, shaking his head. “You two are the only people I know who still played that past the fifth installment.”

“Fair. I nurture a love for old franchises.” Donghyuck leans back, looking supremely satisfied at how he’s managed to tick off one of his most important ‘to-do’ points of the day. “So what’s your poison, ___________?”

“What’s that mean?”

“You a Gardenscapes kind of girl? Tekken? Maybe you like some good ol’ fashioned LoL?”

“I honestly don’t have the hand-eye coordination to play,” you confess. “I know Mark likes to play PUBG from time to time. I mostly just sit and ask questions, though. The few times I tried playing with him, I swear any normal person would’ve cried. He had to babysit me like crazy. It was a miracle he didn’t throw me out.”

“She even tries to play with him,” Donghyuck whistles lowly. “Dude, how’d Mark get a chick like you?”

“Meaning?”

“You’re way too good for that dope.” His laugh is light and good-natured. “Never thought a moony-eyed weirdo like him would actually wind up with his dream girl — which he’s called you, more than once, by the way. Fucking disgusting, but… I get it. Doesn’t make it less crazy or weird to hear, though.”

“Sorry to put you through that.” You smile, using your straw to stir the contents of your cup. A warmth spreads through your shoulders and down your arms to the tips of your fingers as you digest what Donghyuck’s just said to you, and you find your eyes trailing back to Mark, who’s pulling off his apron. His eyes are already fixed on you, and when you lock gazes, he mouths a wait for me that makes you want to squeeze the life out of something in pure joy. You settle for a soft sigh. “I guess it won’t help if I say your friend over there’s my dream guy.”

“It absolutely will not,” Donghyuck groans, faking a gagging noise that has you laughing. “But tell you what — if you ever get tired of Mark playing PUBG and ignoring you like the clown he is, I’ll find you someone else more your speed.”

“No thanks,” you snort, taking the last sip of your drink. “More than that, I’d just want to be some kind of helpful to him if I ever play with him again.”

“We can help you with that too,” Jisung volunteers. “Jeno taught me the basics. I’m sure he can teach you too.”

“Yeah, and I’m guessing you’d be a better student than mister “how come you didn’t tell me I had to focus the crosshairs myself” over here,” Jeno chuckles, surreptitiously pointing at Jisung when you cast him a questioning look.

“I’m pretty good at sneak attacks myself.” Donghyuck makes a show of pretending to slice your neck before grinning smugly. “We’ll take care of you. Mark won’t know what hit him next time.”

“What’s happening to me next time?”

You feel Mark before you see him, his hand landing on your head lightly and smoothing your hair back in an idle, gentle motion to announce his presence. You look up at him, already beaming, and he returns the favor as his hand settles on your shoulder.

“We were just talking about replacing you. Both as a friend and as a boyfriend, for your poor little dream girl here who’s just too nice to turn you down.” Donghyuck lies like it’s second nature; you wonder if that’s a Finance major thing or just a him thing.

“And you’re offering that to someone who didn’t ask for it?” Mark snorts, nudging Chenle’s bag over so he can sit in the empty spot.

“She’s so caught up in your sticky little web that she can’t struggle against you.” Donghyuck feigns a heavy sigh that suggests he feels sorry for you before he puts a hand on your free shoulder, shaking his head in a convincing kind of pity. “I’ll save you, so don’t worry. Mark can’t keep his grubby hands on you forever. Whenever you need to be saved, I’ll come a-running to free you.”

There’s a tightness on one shoulder that disrupts the balance of your torso, and you find yourself leaning closer to Mark. Your hand finds its way to his knee, giving it a light squeeze under the table, and his grip loosens by a fraction. Donghyuck’s as quick to let go as he is to hang on.

“We were just talking about PUBG,” you correct, and Mark’s eyes snap to you. “I was asking for help — you know, so I won’t drag you down the next time I join in?”

“I don’t mind whatever you do in-game.” He’s quick to comfort you, even if you don’t actually need it, but it feels warm and cold “I’m just glad you wanna try it with me.”

“No, but I kind of want to learn too. So it can be fun for both of us. Also so you don’t have to keep avenging me after five minutes,” you laugh. Mark cracks a smile then, and you don’t realize his expression had been slightly harder until it softens under your gaze.

“Then I’ll teach you next time.”

“No, I want to surprise you with how cool I get. And then next time, I’ll even beat you.” You turn to Donghyuck, slightly unsure. “Uh… I can beat him, can’t I?”

“If you play different teams, yeah,” he confirms. “Trust me. I’ll help you kick his ass.”

“Or we’ll both kick yours,” Mark chuckles, his grasp now tightening and loosening intermittently. He’s massaging your shoulder lightly, and you end up sinking deeper into his side. You don’t miss the slightly nauseated amusement that passes across Donghyuck’s face nor the way he mouths ‘sap’ to Mark, who ignores this comment in its entirety.

“Yo, hotpot at seven? Renjun’s asking,” Chenle announces as he returns to your table, his phone in one hand and a crumpled paper towel in the other. “Jaemin can’t make it, though. Study group or whatever shit he always says.”

“I’m down,” Donghyuck immediately replies, and Chenle’s eyes shoot heavenward, like he’s already asking for the divine strength to not sock Donghyuck in the face later.

“Can’t,” Jeno yawns, both his arms outstretched as he tries to move the sleep out of his spine. “Pre-test tomorrow.”

“Dude, it’s a pre-test,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to study if they’re just testing how much you know before studying.”

“Gotta study all the same.”

“I gotta pass too,” Jisung looks actually apologetic. “I promised my mom I’d help her move some stuff to my aunt’s place tonight.”

“Boring,” Chenle grumbles before turning to the both of you. “Lovebirds?”

“Rain check,” Mark shakes his head. “Family dinner. My brother’s home for the weekend. How about Monday instead? Most of us can’t make it anyway. At least Jaemin doesn’t have study group either.”

“If that’s even what that weirdo’s doing,” Chenle sighs, already punching in a message to send to Renjun. “Fine; I’ll ask about Monday. You guys better actually reply to the goddamn group chat. I can’t coordinate in six different private chats ever again.”

“You can put my name down already,” Mark casts you a sideway glance, and you nod immediately. “Two names, actually.”

“I’m good on Monday too. When we see each other again, I’ll bring some prospects for you to sift through,” Donghyuck adds to you, and you laugh. “Cool guys. Jocks. I know this upperclassman all the girls say is really hot. I think I still have his Messenger from when we did a group discussion last semester.”

“I’ll have Mark look at them so he can reject them all for me,” you promise. Donghyuck feigns affront before looking at Mark in utter disbelief.

“How the fuck did you snag a girl like this, man?”

“I’m pretty sure she once told me I… what did you say?” Mark glances at you amusedly. “I had some moves, I guess.”

“You mean stutter and blush in her presence?” Donghyuck can’t decide how to look at you without being even the slightest bit offensive; he just settles on incredulity. “And that won you over?”

“Most powerful move in the Mark Lee playbook,” you shrug, grinning. “Had me from the first ‘um,’ and he’s had me ever since.”

“You lucky son of a bitch,” Donghyuck snorts, and neither of you misses the slightly abashed but unmistakable smugness in Mark’s face when you lean in to rest your head on his shoulder.

The second time it happens is on that Monday, in a far more noticeable capacity. You just aren’t quick enough to read the signs, as usual.

But in your defense (again), it hadn’t felt all that significant.

“Fuck, this is spicy,” Na Jaemin sucks air in through his teeth and lets it out in a sharp whistle that’s broken by a laugh that’s not necessarily at anything funny. Maybe he’s just laughing at the sheen of sweat across his forehead that he has to wipe off with the other side of his napkin.

Miraculously, the hotpot plan pushes through, with no small amount of effort in coordination on Chenle’s part; he’d even texted you just to make sure he’d gotten the head count right, despite the fact that Mark had already confirmed your attendance twice over. Even the often elusive Na Jaemin, who always seems to have one or another study group to attend on most nights, manages to come and is currently busy mixing his peanut sauce in his little bowl with such vigor that you can’t help but wonder if he’s not trying to drown the mala-flavored strips of meat in it completely.

“That’s why I said you need a bowl of water for dipping, you dimwit,” Donghyuck points his chopsticks at Jaemin’s messy plate in a way you can only describe as nagging, even if that’s actually impossible. “You’ve got super mala breath now.”

“Don’t know about me, but I can smell yours all the way from over here,” Jaemin quips back with an easy kind of nonchalance, hastily ducking the balled-up napkin that goes flying across the table. It lands on the floor behind his chair harmlessly.

It’s nice, you think, that Mark’s friends like to invite you to their outings now; despite all the jokes they’ve made at his expense, they’ve been consistently open to having you around. You’re not necessarily the type of couple that acts in a way that disgusts people into moving to a completely different table anyway, and you allow their conversations to unfold easily without ever interrupting, so you think that this arrangement works for all parties involved.

They’re even louder outside Starbucks, you’ve come to note; the restaurant is significantly busier than the cafe anyway, filled with people on their company dinners, so Mark’s friends all seem to want to rival that boisterous energy. Weirdly, you like it, even when they’re already half off their seats and one (Chenle) is just about to strangle the other (Donghyuck). The laughter flows freely, and there’s a messiness to the whole affair that makes it impossible to feel uncomfortable.

Even Mark pipes in occasionally, offering his opinion on topics he knows much more about than you, and you can’t help but admire how everyone listens to him when he starts to speak, even if he has nothing realistically important to say. His friends might find it odd that you’d been so drawn to him, but they just don’t know that even they’re victims of Mark’s natural magnetism, also falling quiet and eager to hear his voice, his light-hearted laugh, in response to the things they say.

But even when he’s mostly distracted by conversation, there’s a part of him that continuously pays attention to you in his own way. He nudges his ginger and soy sauce bowl towards you with the side of his wrist so you can dip your beef in, even if you’d adamantly declined him giving you your own bowl of it in the first place (you’d always thought you were peanut sauce or nothing kind of girl, but one sneaky venture into Mark’s sauce proved you wrong). His hand hovers over your head when you drop your chopsticks and bend over to pick them up from where they’ve rolled under the table, making sure you’re bump-free when you resurface.

And his palms always, always settle somewhere on you, no matter what he’s doing. If one hand is busy feeding himself, the other is intent on warming your thigh, passing over the denim in slow, steady strokes. His fingers tickle your knee when you laugh, just to make you laugh a little harder — you’d even almost kneed the table at one point, much to Huang Renjun’s alarm. But the most common place for his arm is around you, fingers lightly bunched into the side of your shirt, like he’s worried loosening his grip on you further will cause you to vanish. It keeps him close to you, keeps his scent and warmth washing over you in gentle waves, so much so that you often have to remind yourself that he’ll be the target of much light-hearted mockery if you so much as lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder.

But it’s hard to resist it, especially when his hand seems to be intent on outlining every curve on that side, passing over your hip and dipping into your waist. The motion allows him to slowly but surely lift the fabric of your shirt, up until there’s just enough of an opening for his palm to slip under, and suddenly it’s much warmer on that side, with the light roughness of his hand grazing at your skin. His fingers always stretch apart, like he’s trying to feel as much of you as he can, and the pads of his digits have a tendency to graze the plane of your stomach — his nails sometimes even travel featherlight just next to your navel, etching out words you can’t really decipher. Like he’s writing a message just for you.

It makes you feel like no matter what he’s doing, a part of his mind is always on you.

“You guys want to see that new horror movie? The Ghost Within, I think it’s called,” Jisung asks the group from over at the other end of the table, having to raise his voice significantly to make sure it isn’t swept away by the raucous laughter from across the restaurant. “I think it’s coming out in a week or two.”

“I’d be okay with it,” Renjun shrugs, although he doesn’t look enthused. “Kind of looks like a cliche horror with all those cheap jump scares and shit, but I’m down if you all are.”

A wave of assent passes over the group in general, but you notice Mark doesn’t immediately respond. You take this opportunity to lean in and confess your stance.

“If I have to sit around and watch a ghost pop out at me from a big-ass movie screen, you may never again see me in the same wonderful light you do today,” you warn. “Remember me as I am, not as I will be, Mark Lee.”

He snorts, coughing lightly as a mixture of ginger and fishcake sticks in his throat. “Yeah — we’ll pass, I think.”

“Scaredy-cat,” Donghyuck teases, and you’re surprised that Mark doesn’t come to his own defense. There’s something romantic in him not wanting to be the one to sell you out, but you suppose there’s also a kind of chivalry in being the one to take the bullet.

“Actually, I’m the one who can’t handle it well,” you smile in apology. “Sorry. I don’t have much of a reputation, so to speak, but what elegance may be attached to my name, however misplaced, is something I really want to maintain. At least until I graduate.”

“In short, you don’t want Mark to see you scream and cry,” Chenle deduces. You can’t even find fault in him figuring it out so quickly.

“Bingo.”

“Well, we can solve the problem,” Donghyuck claps his hands, getting everyone’s attention for no good reason. “__________, you sit beside me, and Mark can sit on the far end of the row. With how dark it is, he won’t see anything, and I get to sit next to a cute girl in a movie theater. Win-win.”

“Thanks for the offer,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But it’s not a win-win if I accidentally grab your hand out of instinct.”

“It is to me,” Donghyuck winks, and you feel Mark’s hand stop brushing over your stomach. His fingers curl in lightly, almost like he’s trying to make a fist but can’t quite get to that point out of personal restraint. “Or better yet, you could do what we all think you should do and dump Mark for someone you won’t be ashamed to cry in front of. I, for one, would not even bother to comment on whatever emotions you’re going through in the middle of a movie, so what do you say? It’s a pretty sweet deal, in my humble opinion. Me versus Mark Lee. The showdown of the century, right here in Hai Di Lao.”

You’ve noticed that the more Donghyuck piles onto his little teasing rampage, the more forcefully Mark tugs you over; his fingers aren’t just skimming over your skin but have now grown into the habit of gently pinching it, as if begging for your attention. It feels nice but also a little urgent, although it’s hard for you to understand why; the whole foundation of this group is built on teasing each other until someone (Chenle) snaps and lobs a bottle cap at someone else (Donghyuck), so it should be normal for Mark to be at the receiving end of some light banter.

“Should we ask the hostess to referee the match, then?” You ride along with the joke.

“No way. You’re the one calling the shots.” Donghyuck sits up a little straighter, putting on a smug face. “Okay, pick, __________. Me or Mark; who’s got the better punches?”

You make a show of acting thoughtful, even tapping your chin to pretend considering it deeply, but there was never any doubt on your choice. Still, you can’t really decipher the sudden slowness, the light tremble in Mark’s palm as it travels to your hip, where it settles, heavy, over the curve.

“It’s a complete knock-out,” you finally announce, grinning. “Championship belt goes to Mark.”

“Man, if I had a girlfriend as straight-shooting about her feelings for me as you are about your feelings for Mark, I’d propose in a day, max,” Jeno groans, half-exasperated and half-amused all at once.

“Man must’ve saved a nation or something in his past life,” Donghyuck grimaces. “No way he deserves a girl this hot and crazy about him. Hey — got any tips on stopping natural disasters or something? I could use a sexy, loyal girlfriend in my next life. Or maybe I’ll just poach yours in this one and see what it feels like.”

“I would actually deck you, so don’t even try it,” Mark snorts, his arm now winding full around your waist. You’re flush against his side, and he uses this opportunity to do something he doesn’t often do in front of his friends: show explicit affection by pressing a light kiss just behind your ear. It tickles, his breath grazing your earlobe, and you giggle, squirming in his hold. All he does is smile and pull you in tighter.

The bill’s split eight ways, but Mark’s fishing out cash to pay for your share even before you can get your wallet out from the bottom of your bag; it’s one of those quick, instinctive moves he likes to use on you, where he pushes the money and sends the bill back to the staff before you can even protest in full, so you have to settle on thanking him by returning the earlier favor — landing a peck on his cheek, which flushes a warm and contented pink the moment your lips make contact.

You just pointedly ignore the snickers that run around the table, particularly from Donghyuck and Jaemin.

The group splits ways at the front of the school dorms; most of them head in after their goodbyes, while Chenle backtracks towards his apartment building off-campus, mumbling something about how he hopes his roommate’s in because he accidentally left his key in the bowl next to their doorway. Mark should be piling in with the rest into the dorms, but he has a habit of insisting that he take you to the subway station; you’ve long since given up on convincing him against tagging along, mostly because he looks slightly hurt whenever you try to get him to stay put. You’re not going to complain anyway; for as much as you like being around Mark’s friends, it’s even better when you have this little slice of alone time despite the hassle it brings him.

Your fingers are linked when you walk under the street lights, the campus road leading to the station entrance significantly less busy at this time of evening; it’s cool enough for you to have an excuse to press yourself into Mark’s form, and he accepts this additional burden with an immense amount of grace, his arm finding its way around you again. Two minutes later, his palm is pressed against your bare skin once more, rubbing small, gentle circles just above your pelvis.

A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to do this — lean in, flush against him — when the summer heat starts to stick, but rather than really worrying about the logistics, you realize you’re more hung up on the idea of spending this summer with him.

“Sorry,” Mark murmurs out of the blue. Your eyebrows shoot up, and he looks down at you sheepishly. “Isn’t hanging out with my friends kind of driving you crazy?”

You hum in thought before shaking your head in resolution. “Not really. Not in a bad way, at least. I like how close you guys all are — and how big the group is. It’s usually just Yeji and Jisu with me, and they’re definitely not as rowdy. The change of pace is pretty fun.”

“Yeji and Jisu,” he echoes. “Your best friends. I haven’t met them yet, have I?”

“Not yet. Jisu started a part-time job across town, so we can’t get our schedules to align right just yet.” Your hip collides gently with his. “Should I let you, though?”

“One day… I think it would be nice to hang out with a less migraine-inducing crowd for a change.”

“I’ll tell them, then. They want to meet you.” You crane your neck up slightly, lowering your voice into a hushed whisper that’s completely unnecessary. “They want to know if you’re as cute as you look in your pictures.”

Mark draws back, laughing incredulously. “How do they know what my pictures look like?”

“I stalked your Instagram and showed them,” you answer simply. He throws you a funny look that’s equal parts disbelief and amusement. “They liked that one with the Spider-man costume.”

“Please don’t,” he groans, passing a hand over his face. “I should have taken that down, but I didn’t think anyone would care.”

“Why? I like it.” Your hand’s the one that manages to slip under his sweater this time, fingers trailing down his stomach; you feel him suck it in for a second in surprise before he lets out an exhale.

“I can’t ever understand what’s going through your head,” he chuckles, and you think it’s unfair that he manages to extract your hand from under the fabric while his is still firmly pressed against the side of your stomach. “You saw that and still wanted to date me?”

“Mark Lee, you simply underestimate how much I adore you. It’s kind of hurting my feelings at this rate.”

You’re just a few inches shy of the circle of light cast by the subway station sign. Your feet try to bring you forward, but Mark lingers behind, just outside the curve of soft white on the pavement, and his hand slips from under your shirt. You turn, and his hand skims down your arm instead, fingers locking around your wrist. With the slight distance between you, it looks like you’re caught in motion.

“I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

“What?”

“I just look over at you and feel like it’s not real. Like you’re going to disappear, and I’m just going to wake up from a dream and see you the next day, just some other stranger who doesn’t even know my name.” He licks his lips, and you want to reach out and kiss him already, but you know he isn’t done talking. “And I’m going to remember how much I liked you in that dream, but you won’t ever feel that same way.”

“You know I’m right here, though, don’t you?” Your fingers mimic his, squeezing around his wrist. “You can feel me. I’m here with you.”

Hesitation flashes across his face even when he nods, and you notice his eyes flit down to his shoes before looking back up at you — a habit of avoidance you know he’s trying to correct. “Sometimes I have to wonder if they’re right.”

“If… who’s right?”

“Them.” He jerks his thumb back in the general direction of the school dorms. “The guys. You know — when they ask me how I got a girl like you… the truth is, I don’t even really know. They can’t believe it, and it’s so crazy to me that I still sometimes can’t myself. So I start wondering if—”

You don’t let him finish this time; it’s rude to interrupt, you know, but you also know that what he’s about to say is probably something neither of you wants to hear anyway. Your lips connect with his, firm and demanding, and his words die in his throat, melting into a soft groan that vibrates against your skin. When you pull away, you don’t create the same distance, and Mark’s hands find their way to your waist, slightly trembling.

“They’re wrong,” you murmur, a quiet strength in your voice. “So stop wondering and just be with me.”

A smile starts tugging on the corners of his mouth, and the next moment, he’s nodding in assent, in wholehearted agreement, and the next kiss you share is one he starts, far more gentle than earlier.

“Next time I catch you entertaining nonsensical thoughts, there’ll be consequences.”

“Are you threatening me?” His laugh is colored with incredulity.

“Yes.” Your tone is firm, but your grin gives away too much of the jest. “Maybe I’ll ground you for a week, or something really childish.”

“I’d take it if you were with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” you snort, gently flicking the tip of his nose. He scrunches it on impact. “You’d be in solitary. You must reflect on your actions and all that nonsense. Meanwhile, I’ll be out having some good hotpot with everyone else.”

“If that happens, promise me one thing, then.” He maneuvers your stance until you’re both back in the blanket of darkness, just out of reach of the subway entrance. “Don’t sit next to Donghyuck.”

“And let him and Chenle give me an earful about how bad-slash-good the first Human Centipede movie was all over again? I think not.”

“No, really.” Mark buries his face into your neck, and you hear the quiet inhale as he breathes in your scent. On instinct, your hand comes up to thread through his hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp. “I don’t want you sitting there and hearing him talk your ear off about how much I don’t deserve you or that he’ll help you find someone better.”

“You know he’s just joking — and I’m just joking, right?”

“Just promise me.”

You pause, wondering if it’s in your best interest to tease him for whatever act he’s pulling, but there’s a shortness to his breathing that makes the whole situation feel weirdly tense. He’s really waiting for something — an answer. The right answer, maybe.

“I promise,” you finally say, and you know you’ve said the correct thing when Mark’s lips press a soft kiss to your collarbone, like he’s sealing in your vow.

On the third time, Mark pretty much gives up.

The strangest thing is that it starts at a time when you’re not even actually together; if you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it probably had to be when Donghyuck had walked you to the dorm from library. No — maybe even before that. Somewhere in the time you’d spent in there, he’d thought up yet another way to push Mark’s buttons. You just didn’t really know the exact minute he’d first seen you with Jung Jaehyun.

You don’t know how Jaehyun does it; he skips half his classes and somehow doesn’t even get in trouble, let alone fail. You’d only met him last semester, but he was just about the only person who was halfway familiar in your Anthropology 120 class, so you thought you could at least feel comfortable enough to chat with him about the weather or what had happened in the last meeting. You don’t expect him to strong-arm you into being something of a literal proxy for him; the first week of the semester, you’d spend almost each lecture period gnawing on your nails and fretting over the fact that your signature for attendance looked nothing like his. By the second week, you’d already come to realize that it doesn’t matter because he had only attended one lecture — the first one — thus far and your professor was as clueless about Jaehyun’s handwriting as you. By the fourth week, you had resigned yourself to being his slightly unwilling associate for his random escapades, allowing him to copy off your notes and turning in his homework for him.

Now that you think about it, that’s probably how he does it.

You sacrifice your free time for him today, caged up in a library for pretty much the afternoon. You can’t help but resent him, not just because the whole room is stuffy and the librarian keeps passing by, clucking to remind people not to litter between shelves, but also because you’d much rather do things that are important to you — like pretending to flirt with Mark for the first time when you place your order and watching him act like it’s the first time you’re saying something so sweet to him, except he’s definitely not pretending. Instead of watching Mark’s face color that cute shade of pink and that sweet little smile pull at his mouth until he’s basically biting his lips back to stop himself from grinning, you have to bore yourself with the sight of Jaehyun trying to decipher your handwriting.

“You should really be more legible with your strokes.” He has the audacity to chastise you as if he’s the one doing you a favor by giving you constructive criticism.

“You should really come to class more often,” you bite back, although there’s no real heat to your words. You just look out the window and watch the sun sink down behind the university hospital building, wondering if there’s a chance you’ll still be able to catch Mark before his shift ends.

“Would if I could.”

“You actually fucking can,” you say tiredly, and even the way he turns the page is so impossibly slow. “Can’t you just take a picture?”

“Nah; writing it down carefully really helps my retention of this kind of stuff.”

“So take a picture and then write it down carefully.”

“With your ridiculous handwriting? I’d probably fail.”

“So come to class and write it yourself!”

Your hiss increases in pitch, and it calls the attention of the librarian over to you. She swoops in, clicking her tongue, but she’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are zoned in on Jaehyun, who meets her gaze with so much innocence it’s hard to imagine you’d wanted to smack him two minutes ago.

“Jung Jaehyun,” the librarian snaps in an undertone. The slow, punctuated way she says his name suggests she knows him fairly well — and not in a great way. “I see you’re back in here after your probationary period.”

“Sorry for the trouble, Mrs. Park.” He grins up at her, looking anything but apologetic. “I promise I won’t get in your way again today.”

“And this one—” She points to you, and you point to yourself in shock at being pointed to, and Jaehyun’s pointing at you and mouthing ‘this one’ with excessive mirth in his eyes. “Isn’t another one of those girls you plan on defiling my sacred space with?”

Jaehyun says ‘we didn’t defile anything’ at the same time you say I’m going to throw up, and the librarian just adds to the noise by shushing you on top of that jumble of words.

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on you two,” Mrs. Park warns before stalking away, tutting at a library assistant for wrongly shelving a volume of Encyclopedia Brittanica.

“Please, Jaehyun,” you groan, crossing your arms over the table and flattening your forehead against them. “Just hurry up. Release me.”

He ignores you, still leaning closer to your notebook to decipher your handwriting. “I would like to set the record straight and make it known I didn’t fuck anyone in the library.”

“What’d you get probation for, then?”

“Just making out.” You notice he has the energy to grin wickedly even without meeting your eye, even while he’s still scrawling on his own notebook, and you groan something incoherent and irate once again. “What are you in such a big hurry for, anyway?”

“Has it ever occurred to you,” you grumble, raising your head. “That some people might want to do better things than sit here and watch you write stuff for ages?”

“No,” comes his simple reply. You bop your head onto your arms a few times in the hope that the impact will shake you out of this nightmare and you’d find yourself waking up in Mark’s arms instead, but you have no such luck. “By better things, do you mean fucking Mark Lee in someone else’s bedroom? That’s real defilement, by the way.”

“How’d you hear about that?” You squeeze your eyes shut and growl under your breath. “Fucking Youngho.”

“You doing that too?”

“Shut — please, would you hurry?”

He pointedly purses his lips in an effort to keep himself from letting out what you can only assume is, by the glint in his eyes, a witch’s cackle. “Almost done, man. Relax a bit. So did you guys get together — like, together together?”

You initially contemplate not telling him, but Jaehyun’s nosiness is probably going to reveal the truth to him sooner or later anyway. “Yeah. What’s it to you, though?”

“Nothing. You’re lucky.”

For the first time today, you feel like Jaehyun has finally said something right. “Yeah — yeah, I am.”

“I bet his friends don’t seem to think so.”

“Is this something you know because it’s a guy thing or because you’re so nosy that you just can’t help but listen in on every other juicy conversation around you?”

“A bit of both,” he chuckles. “Mostly just because I know Lee Donghyuck was giving him a hard time about it last semester.”

“I noticed that too — a bit, anyway. But it’s just banter, I think.”

“Probably. Imagine being his friend and getting a girlfriend; it’s like… the perfect ammunition for teasing. But I’m pretty sure half of the things that come out of his mouth are jokes meant to annoy.”

“What about yours?”

“I get it,” he sighs, shutting your notebook resolutely. It makes a thud that alerts the librarian two tables away, and she glares at you like you’re climbing onto Jaehyun’s lap in the middle of the References on the Korean War aisle. “I’ll set you free. Thanks, by the way, for letting me copy from you. Same time next week?”

“Or how about you look up the schedules for our classes and actually come instead of piggybacking off of my efforts and making snarky remarks about my handwriting while you’re taking advantage of my goodwill?”

“Sounds like too much effort on my end,” he yawns, waving you off as you stuff your notebook into your bag. “Later, ___________. Say hi to Mark for me. The normal way — not the girlfriend way, please.”

You stick your tongue out at him before you make a mad dash for the door, ignoring Mrs. Park as she shushes your footsteps on the marble. You’re so intent on fishing your phone out of your bag that you almost ram the door into the person standing behind it.

“Oh, fuck— Jesus, I’m sorry, I wa— wait, Donghyuck?”

“Great to see you too, ___________.” He rubs his jaw where the edge of the door grazed it. “You in a rush?”

“I was just about to go see if Mark was still at Starbucks.”

“His shift’s probably almost over. I’m headed back to the dorm if you wanna tag along.” When you nod, he starts leading the way, breaking the silence again soon after. “Were you in a study group, or something?”

“No,” you jerk your thumb backwards towards the minuscule form of Jaehyun, who’s now busy wasting time and space playing something on his phone where you’d left him. Donghyuck’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s my classmate who never comes to class. I was just lending him my notes.”

“Oh, Jaehyun, yeah.” Donghyuck snaps his fingers. “We were classmates last semester. He never went to class either, but I don’t know who he mooched off of to pass. You guys close?”

“Not really. I just fell into the trap of being too nice to him.”

“It’s funny,” he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Jaehyun seems more your speed. On paper, at least.”

You can’t help but look taken aback, and Donghyuck laughs at your expression. “What do you mean, my speed?”

“Not sure.” He pauses, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “Someone who’d fit more into your social circles. Someone who probably likes Formula One and considers men’s health magazines to be classic literature.”

“That’s your impression of my social circle?”

“You know what I mean. People like Jung Jaehyun or Seo Youngho. I literally thought you were dating him last semester, so it was totally crazy to hear you asked Mark out.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Like… you asked him out. Not even the other way around. That’s ridiculous.”

“Why?” You know he doesn’t mean anything bad by it; Donghyuck has next to no filter, and something about him being unable to process your relationship is honestly a little funny. “A girl can’t ask a guy out?”

(You try not to think too hard about the fact that up until you’d cornered him in Youngho’s room, you had been praying to whatever god could hear you to convince Mark Lee to do the romanticist thing and ask you out.)

“Nah, dude. Like… a girl like you asked a guy like him out.”

“I didn’t ask him out because he was a guy like that,” you say pointedly. “I asked him out because he was a guy I liked. I wouldn’t have asked anyone else out if it weren’t him.”

Donghyuck falls quiet for a while, and only the crunching of the leaves underfoot accompanies your walk. “You really like him that much, huh?”

“I’m crazy about him.” His nose scrunches up like he’s been hit with a horrible smell, and you laugh. “Can you stop giving him a hard time? Or tone it down? I know you probably don’t like it—”

Donghyuck’s chuckle is light and easy. “I’m not teasing him because I hate it; let’s be clear on that. I actually really like that you guys are together. I’ve never seen him this happy with anything or anyone.”

“Then why are you—”

“Because he’s Mark.” A devilish grin creeps up his features as he holds the door to the dorm lobby open for you. “And teasing him is my favorite thing to do.”

You shake your head; you can’t help your amusement, but you’re not sure you fully understand this kind of friendship. You suppose if Mark is okay with it in its totality, then there isn’t much you can say to change it either.

The next twenty minutes pass in comfortable back-and-forths; Donghyuck is, as you already have learned, an expert conversationalist, and while he doesn’t aggravate you the way he does Chenle, he does manage to navigate a quick-fire kind of exchange of thoughts and information that allows you to see the speed at which he thinks. There’s barely any lag between when he digests what you say and when he responds. You suppose there’s a measure of wit in that, but it’s also a little bemusing to see someone speak without at least running it through the conscience checker every once in a while. You decide you’ve never met anyone quite like Lee Donghyuck before.

He’s in the middle of asking you what the Anthropology professor is like because he’s planning on taking it as an elective if he can when you notice a familiar figure pushing into the lobby, backpack swinging on a folded elbow.

“Mark!” The brief confusion on his face morphs into a surprised joy when he spots you on the couch, even though a bit of it lingers upon recognizing that Donghyuck is seated next to you. He walks over in long strides, and your posture straightens to meet his palm as it comes down gently against the crown of your head again; it bumps lightly, causing the both of you to laugh.

“Hey, you.” His voice is warm and fond in its greeting, and you beam up at him. “Did you have a busy afternoon?”

“Unfortunately. Did you just get back from your shift?”

“I passed by the co-op to check out the new university letter jackets. Design’s pretty dope.” He nods towards the elevator. “You wanna head up for a little bit?” You almost get to respond before your companion cuts in instead.

“Hey. Can’t you see we’re having a riveting conversation over here?” Donghyuck sniffs, making a show of hitting Mark’s shin lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect.”

“Is the conversation so riveting that I can’t take my girl for the evening at all?”

You mouth out a no, but Donghyuck’s flair for dramatics has him humphing and shoving Mark’s hand away from your hair. “Yeah, man. At least let us finish up.”

“What’s this even about?”

“How Jung Jaehyun asked her out in the library today,” Donghyuck replies easily. You start, shaking your head immediately, but Mark’s jaw slackens a little upon hearing this. Donghyuck continues loudly over your protests, and you can’t keep your voice straight because you’re adamant and yet, somehow, still laughing incredulously in your shock. “Oh, dude, let me tell you. He had his arm around her like this — and he was giving her the bedroom eyes… I wouldn’t have blamed her if she folded, honestly.”

“Mark, no,” your stupid gasp comes out as half a giggle as a result of Donghyuck trying to reenact his imaginary scenario. He’s slung his arm across your shoulders and pulled himself in, doing his best expression of a pleading dog’s gaze, which is both perplexing and hilarious. “He’s just kidding—”

“Then he got all close like this—” Donghyuck presses his forehead against yours, and the view he allows himself blocks him from having to look at Mark. You, on the other hand, are still trying to resist a misunderstanding, your palms up and every part of your body that can move shaking vehemently, but you can see Mark’s face turn a violent shade of red you can’t remember having seen from him before. “Spoke all low — you remember he had that sexy, husky voice, right? ”

“He’s just messing with you,” you wheeze out, trying to extract yourself from Donghyuck’s hold, but he only tightens his arm around your neck, almost to the point where you can’t inhale properly.

“And he said ‘you’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen—’ then you know what he did, Markie?”

Mark doesn’t respond; you’re not even sure if he can, considering his Adam’s apple is bobbing dangerously like he’s one misstep away from exploding. You laugh again, stupidly, because you don’t know what else to do; you know Donghyuck’s teasing him, and you know Mark usually takes it in stride, but you’ve also never seen the latter look so focused on anything that didn’t involve a math problem or eating you out. “No, really, nothing hap—”

You don’t even have the space to finish your sentence. Donghyuck’s too quick when he grabs your face and plants a comedically sloppy kiss on your cheek, bursting out in laughter when he pulls away. You can only sit there, probably as stunned as Mark looks, raising your hand slowly to wipe the spittle Donghyuck left behind in his wake.

“Oh, Jesus,” Donghyuck rasps out between snorts. “Your face is priceless, man.”

“Not funny,” Mark grumbles, and there’s a hoarseness to his voice that makes you feel like it’s barely controlled.

“Also not true. I just bumped into her on the way from the library. We were talking about one of her classes or whatever.” Donghyuck dramatically wipes the tears from his eyes, and you sigh, nudging him. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t resist. Man, don’t even worry. She’s downright crazy about you. Even if Jung Jaehyun had asked her out—”

“Anyway.” Mark reaches down, lacing your fingers together, pulling you up and closer to his side like he’s worried you’ll catch Donghyuck’s crazy. “If that’s all of it…”

“Yeah, yeah. You two lovebirds go moon over each other already. I just love seeing your face like that.”

Mark snorts, yanking on Donghyuck’s earlobe punitively, and the latter cries out sharply (and a little exaggeratedly) at the pain. Mark doesn’t even seem to care; he leads you to the elevator and punches in his floor. You barely have time to call out a belated ‘bye’ to Donghyuck, who acknowledges it with a raise of his palm, before the doors slide shut.

It’s a slow elevator, given that it’s an old building, and the first couple of floors pass without much noise between the two of you. You’re not unaware of how tight Mark’s grip is on your hand, but you don’t comment nor take it against him. By the fourth floor, you’re raising his hand up to your lips and pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

“Nothing happened.” You confirm his unasked question, and you see a modicum of tension leave his shoulders. “He was just messing with you because he thinks it’s funny.”

“Yeah, I know.” Even if he says it like that, there’s still lingering doubt in his voice. “Were you with Jung Jaehyun today, though? Is that why you didn’t show up?”

You nod. “He was copying my notes for Anthropology. Guy barely shows up to lectures, so he borrows my stuff. I can’t believe he hasn’t been suspended yet. Or punched in the face by the people he leeches off of.”

“No kidding.”

You step out on the sixth floor with him. Even if you already know where Mark’s dorm is, you let him lead the way, and he ushers you into an empty and dimly lit living space while taking his shoes off. His roommate barely seems to be around; you’ve seen him all of two times, and it doesn’t look like he’s here either right now. You pause anyway, listening to any signs of life just to be sure, but when you both confirm that there’s no one but the two of you, you busy yourselves with turning on the lights and plugging in the water dispenser.

You work in relative silence; it isn’t anything unusual since you’ve done this a million times, and you’ve come to learn that small talk isn’t necessary when you’re just washing your hands or opening the refrigerator aimlessly even if you know you both plan on ordering in. But there’s a weird aura around Mark that you’re not sure how to place; he doesn’t seem like he’s mad, but there definitely seems to be something off — a problem, at least, that you’re not sure you know how to ask about.

So you just try to diffuse whatever it is by completely ignoring it.

“Pizza or Chinese?” You ask, flopping onto the couch as he plugs the television into the outlet. He looks up at you, and you notice his eyes are slightly dazed, like you’ve just woken him up from a dream. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse the first time he says it, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“We just had pizza, so I’m thinking Chinese is the better option. Cream shrimp? Fried rice? Not the salted fish one, though, maybe.”

You hum in assent, but when he straightens up from behind the television, you extend your arm to him, attempting to clarify yourself. “I mean, what are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing.” His answer’s a little too quick. A moment of awkward silence passes where you telepathically tell him you know he’s lying and he has to come to terms with his horrible lying skills, and he sighs, crossing over to the couch and settling beside you. Immediately, he tangles your fingers together, belatedly returning the favor from the elevator and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “He didn’t ask you out, right?”

You know he knows the truth, so you decide to bat your own question back at him in an attempt at rhetoric. “What would it matter if he did? The answer would have been the same, real or imagined.”

Mark pinches the bridge of his nose, inhaling slowly. There’s a red flush on his neck that’s only started fading, it seems. You reach out and skim your finger along the vein that runs down the side of his throat. “I know. I don’t like it all the same. I hate… even thinking about it, actually.”

“Really — nothing happened. If you don’t count the fact that I almost strangled him for keeping me there — which I’m sure you’d agree doesn’t count as anything in favor of him.”

“I heard Jung Jaehyun’s kind of a playboy.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. I don’t know.” His head lolls to the side, and his eyes hold a sadness that pulls at your heart. “It means he really could have made a pass at you. Or you could have — I don’t know. In the end… I just worry.”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your lower lip juts out, and his eyes widen slightly, his head shaking before his mouth can even work out a proper response.

“No — I mean, yes, absolutely. It’s — I mean, it’s just—” He inhales again to gather his wits, two fingers still rubbing his forehead. “I trust you, without a doubt. I don’t trust other people — not around you. Not Jaehyun, or Youngho, or—”

“Or Donghyuck?” You smile a little apologetically at his embarrassment, clear on his face when his eyes stray from yours. “Mark, you know he’s only messing with you, right? I thought it was a funny thing for you guys.”

“It’s not funny if it’s about you,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He looks up at you again, chewing on his bottom lip. “I know. I’m trying to control it. Sometimes… I don’t know why it gets under my skin. I guess it’s because it could happen — you… finding someone else. I kind of hate the thought of that.”

“And if I said I hate it even more than you?”

His gaze softens, something like relief passing over his features, but the rest of his body still holds a significant amount of tension; you know by the way he’s running agitated circles on the back of your hand. You gently tug on his arm, allowing yourself to use it as an anchor to shift your weight. Mark makes a soft noise of inquiry but says nothing more, waiting until you’ve maneuvered your body to settle on his lap.

The view is reminiscent, and you can see that the core memory you share flashes through his mind too. A small smile, still somewhat reluctant, plays on Mark’s lips, and you hate that it’s all you get right now, so you rectify this by leaning down and leaving a small, chaste kiss on them. You pull away much too soon, and his head follows in response to the distance, chasing your lips until you’re realistically too far to reach. His arm extends instead, swiftly tucking your hair behind your ear.

Your fingers close around his wrist, and your head turns, continuing the kiss against his palm — short and firm.

“Stop doing that.”

His eyebrows fly upward in questioning, his other hand freezing in its trail up your thighs. Even his breath seems to catch, and what’s left of it comes out as a raspy whisper. “Stop being jealous? I’m… I’m trying.”

You shake your head. “Stop being sexy when you’re jealous.”

The ‘what’ he seems to want to ask dies in his throat, his mouth only able to form half of the word before you interrupt, your lips taking in the rest of the syllable. When you kiss him this time, there’s a slow hunger to it; your teeth find his lower lip even before he’s able to get into the rhythm of kissing you back. You just want him to know — everything about him drives you wild, even when he doesn’t know it.

You’ll never grow sick of the taste of him, you’re sure; today, he tastes even more enticing, the hint of something rich mixing in with the stronger flavor of coffee on his tongue. It’s familiar and comforting, and it’s only when you break away, both your faces flushed from a prolonged lack of air, that you puzzle out what the taste is — the lingering aftermath of a vanilla sweet cream cold brew, one he must have prepared in anticipation of you this afternoon.

You briefly squeeze your eyes shut and thank whoever’s listening for the gift of Mark Lee.

“Mark,” your murmur, your voice much softer, intent on coaxing him into releasing his worries. “You know, right?”

His ‘hm’ is only half-there in focus, the rest of his attention on his hands, which have found their way to your ass and have started digging his fingers into the flesh beyond your jeans. You have to tilt his head up with one finger under his chin, and there’s a whirlpool of emotion in them: curiosity, desire, and, interestingly, a quiet, almost suppressed kind of anger.

“If it isn’t you,” you whisper. “Then there’s nobody else.”

You see his jaw tighten, feel his grip against you do the same, and his brow furrows, like he’s trying — much too hard, and for no good reason — to stop himself from tipping over. You don’t like that either; if he’s there, you think, you should take him over the edge.

“But if you want them to know so badly, then…” You tilt your head to the side, exposing more of your neck, bringing the expanse just a little closer to his mouth. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your claim on me?”

You swear you see his pupils dilate right before he presses his mouth to your skin. With a low, almost pained groan against your neck, he latches his teeth in lightly, and you feel the soft sting, the increase in pressure the moment he starts sucking a mark just above your collarbone. There’s a wet, messy pattern to his movements, always punctuated by the sweep of his tongue to soothe your flesh. Even with that, his movements are slow and careful, still gentle in the way he’s handling you, but you feel it anyway — all of his tension’s concentrated in his grip, the way he keeps you close, hips pinned against him as if he’s worried anything less will cause you to disappear.

“Every time you worry, remember you can do this.” You pause, your breath catching in a lilt as his teeth dig in a little more fiercely. “You’re the only one that can.”

His lips detach with a soft groan, fingers squeezing your ass tight for a moment. Warm breath cools against the damp patch on your neck, and a second later, you feel his mouth graze against the few inches of skin, sensitive and slightly raw. “I know. It’s just not fair.”

You hum in questioning, but he doesn’t answer immediately; his mouth busies itself just under the mark he’d surely left, already starting up the same routine. You’d let him, and you want him to, but you want to hear his voice more. Your fingers tangle into his hair, and you use that hold to ease his head back, urging him to look up at you. It’s almost a mistake, seeing him like that — lips slightly swollen and definitely slick with his own saliva, parted just a little to reveal teeth he’d been desperate to nip your flesh with again. It crosses your mind that Mark has a mouth made for kissing — no, that isn’t accurate.

A mouth made for you to kiss.

“What’s not fair?” You ask softly. Even now, he takes his time in answering, his eyes falling close for a second; you watch him swallow, lick his lips, breathe in before he speaks, and all of those mundane things he does somehow make you lose your mind all the more.

“How badly I keep wanting you,” he breathes out, his eyes slowly opening. “And how it makes me think everyone wants you just as much.”

His hands leave the curve of your ass, traveling up your shirt, resting against your sides. He holds you like he’s careful in trying not to break you, his fingers spread wide to make sure his thumbs almost meet against your stomach, but there’s a smoldering headiness in his gaze that tells you he’s thinking a little too hard about wanting to break you.

“I touch you like this, and I think that everyone would kill to do the same.” His fingers squeeze against your flesh, inching upwards until they rest just under your breasts; his thumbs stroke the curved underline of your bra. “I think about kissing you and it feels like everyone’s thinking it at the exact same time. I look at someone next to you, even if you don’t know them, and I wonder if they want to pull you close, if they want to feel you against them just as much as I do. When I—”

He inhales sharply between his words, and the exhale comes out somewhat shaky. For a moment, he grits his teeth, jaw flexing in an attempt to keep himself in check. You worry he doesn’t want to continue — doesn’t want to let you hear it, but it feels so important that you can’t let it go. “Tell me.”

“When I think about fucking you,” he breathes out, voice barely audible. “Whenever I look at you and think about how much I want to feel you around me, feel you cum around me… I just know everyone else wants the same thing, and it’s driving me crazy because… because they can’t.”

It’s there again, flashing in his eyes — a determination that reads almost like fury.

“They can’t,” he repeats, his voice firmer. “I won’t ever let them. Never.”

You don’t stop him this time when his mouth reclaims your skin. You let his thoughts fuel the need in his movements, allow yourself to move only in reaction to what he does — the tilting of your head to give him more room, the tightening of your fists against his shirt to keep yourself steady. A surprised mewl leaves you when you feel his teeth pinch against your flesh again, and it’s harder, sharper this time, his quiet anger finally dictating his strength. You grapple for words, but they come out in weak gasps.

“It doesn’t — doesn’t matter,” you manage to whimper out. “How many people think that way, how much they want me that way. I only ever want you.”

His breathing is caught, warm, in the pocket of space just between you and his mouth; it tingles against your skin, tickles your senses into heightening. Your fingers unfurl, pressing against his chest, and you can feel his quickened heartbeat thrumming under your palm.

“God, please,” he murmurs, the soft peck of a kiss landing against your collarbone. “Please, tell me.”

“Mark, I’m yours.” There’s no teasing in how you say it; it was never meant to rile him up. It even escapes sweetness, the romanticism it usually comes with when you remind him on any other occasion. This is a promise to him, something you’re reinforcing as fact, something that can’t ever change. “I’m always going to be yours — no one else’s. I’ll never let anyone have anything that’s yours. Ask anything, take everything you want. I’ll never say no to you. Only you — always you.”

You know something’s different in a number of ways; his arms circle around you, but instead of keeping you firm and stable in his lap, they’re tight, squeezing a whine out of you, holding your torso flush against his. His face never leaves the crook of your neck, but you hear — feel — something there — a soft growl of need, of frustration that begs release. Suddenly, you find yourself off the couch; you barely have the presence of mind to wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs against his sides before he’s carrying you to his room, kicking the door open and letting the rebound of the impact against his wall slam it shut behind him.

You’ve been in Mark’s room before, so there’s absolutely no need for you to take in the scenery when he sets you down on his bed. It doesn’t matter anyway, even if this were your first time; Mark’s crawling over you, his face flush and eyes sharp with hunger, and he looks so enticing that you wouldn’t want to pay attention to anything else around you anyway. His limbs cage you in, arms on either side of your shoulders and his knees just by your thighs, and you don’t really know why he’s already panting, but it just makes you want him all the more.

“Never,” he groans out, leaning down to nose against the patch of skin his mouth had worked on. “I’m never going to let anyone take you, ever. You’re all mine.”

His name fades on your lips, carried away by a moan when his mouth reattaches itself to your neck; it moves, almost frenzied, to renew the mark he’d left, make it a deeper red, a slightly bruised purple. You’re usually careful not to do anything that will require any attention or cover-up after, but Mark seems a little too far gone to care, and you realize you like him best this way.

Even with all the attention he gives your neck, his fingers are busy; they work on the button of your jeans, sliding them down with the help you offer by raising your hips. They only reach halfway down your thighs, his reluctance to come back up for air stopping him from peeling them off completely, but it’s all he seems to need for now.

Eager fingers ease between your thighs, two at once, pressing against your folds. You’re unable to spread your legs like you usually do, but this tightness makes you all the more sensitive, and you keen as his digits fit themselves into your slit. Frustratingly, they don’t move right away, and you have to raise your hips again just to get some sort of friction. Even then, Mark doesn’t take the hint — or, perhaps, the bait — keeping a light pressure against your clit without doing anything else. His focus is still on your neck, now slightly aching under his lips, and when he finally pulls away, you see a look of triumph on his face. He tilts his head back slightly to admire his work — the blooming dark patch you’re sure he’s left where your skin tingles the most.

“If I said I wanted to mark you all over, would you let me?”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t ask for it?”

He chuckles, tightening the pressure of his fingers against your clit; you say something that sounds halfway between ‘Mark’ and a sob.

“I want to, so badly.” He admits, gaze still fixed on your neck. “I’d want to see you walk out of here, walk into class covered in them. I’d want people to ask you how you got them, and who gave them to you. And I’d want you to say it proudly — that it was me who did it. That I fucked you all night and made you mine over and over again.”

“Why don’t you?” His eyes snap up to you, a small smile forming on his lips. “I want to say that too. Let me brag about having you. Let me tell everyone how good you always make me feel. Then you can tell everyone who doesn’t believe you, too — how I let you take me every single time. Show me off and tell them to look at how you made me yours.”

Another laugh escapes him, but there’s more disbelief than humor in it; he seems to find it amazing, that you can just agree with what he says, no matter how strange he thinks it is.

“Show you off? If I mark you in other places, do I have to show them every part?”

“Do you not want to?”

“I want to, and I don’t.” He pauses, slightly amused, and you know he’s remembering the first time you fucked. “I don’t them to see your body, but I want them to see what I did to it. I don’t want them to look at what’s mine, but I just want them to know it is.”

“Then you can fuck me in front of everyone and make them watch you ruin me completely.”

He shakes his head, even if desire flashes clear across his features. He busies himself with actions while he mulls it over, tugging your jeans down alongside your panties and casting them aside before he straightens up. His eyes rake over your form; you’re bare from the waist down, your shirt halfway ridden up, the underside of your bra peeking out from under the hem. Again, his eyes land on your neck, and his smile widens slightly.

“Can’t.” He decides finally. “You’re too pretty for that.”

You hum thoughtfully, and he raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t move, even when you sit up, shifting yourself so you can tuck your calves under your thighs — not even when you reach out to undo his belt or tug down his zipper. He only reacts a little when your hand presses against his hardness through his boxers, the girth now easily familiar to your palm.

“What about something like this?” You ask, inching closer to the edge of the bed. You’ve started slow strokes against him, the fabric creating extra friction, more heat under your palm, and you watch his jaw clench as he swallows back a soft grunt. “Would you let them watch me do this for you?”

“Let me think about it,” he chuckles softly, and you nod, letting your fingers work to make your point. You don’t have to undress him completely to get what you want; all you need is to tug down the front of his boxers to free him, and you already have him wrapped in your palms, stroking his shaft to full hardness.

“Think faster,” you urge, and he shakes his head, slightly bemused. “Are you telling me you wouldn’t even want them to watch me jerk you off?”

“At least give me a full minute.”

You laugh lightly, whispering a ‘fine’ before you press a soft kiss against tip. He inhales sharp through his teeth, already sensitive, and you waste no time in letting your tongue flick out against the smooth head. He doesn’t need the lubrication, realistically; his precum’s already leaking from the tip, mixing in with your saliva as you run your tongue around it. All you do is make him a little messier, a little slicker, your spittle running down his length.

Taking Mark in your mouth is a demanding task, but one you’re always up for; there’s something uniquely satisfying about letting him fill your mouth, inch by inch, and watching his breathing hitch and stutter until your lips are closer to the base than to the head. What you can’t reach, your hand always squeezes around, eager to make sure he feels good completely. His expression is sublime when you draw your head back the first time, sucking as you do so — his eyes are half-lidded, and he doesn’t stop the moan that falls from his lips. His gaze is fixed on you, hazy but still able to drink the sight of you in, and you’re not sure how, but you almost feel like you could get off to watching him watch you taste him.

You try, somehow, vaguely conscious of the movement of your hips; you’re grinding at nothing at first, so your knees give way just enough for you to press yourself against his sheets. It’s slightly uncomfortable, a strain in your thighs that you’re not really used to, but you don’t care; Mark’s sharp inhale at seeing you attempt to grind your pussy against his mattress is pretty much as arousing as anything else. His cock twitches hard in your mouth, and you suck just a little harder, a little messier, your head bobbing down to meet your hand, still firmly wrapped around his girth.

The room’s filled with nothing but slick sounds and soft groans; Mark’s hand has found its way into your hair, tangled into a makeshift ponytail, and while he isn’t guiding your mouth to do anything, you can feel his hips stutter then start to move, pulling back when your head does. He tries to hide it, tries to keep himself steady, but pride blooms in your chest when you note that he can’t; he wants to feel like he’s fucking into your mouth, into your hand, the way he does when he takes your pussy.

It’s relatively quiet for that time, nothing but muffled moans from you that mix in with his noises, but you only realize you’d been waiting for an answer to something when he speaks up again.

“It’s… still a no for me.”

Your movements slow, your gaze lifting to communicate your mild confusion to him. You don’t want to ask; you just don’t want to lose the taste of him on your tongue just yet. He looks down at you, smiling with overflowing tenderness, almost like he’s apologetic.

“Even just this — you’re too pretty when you do it.” His hand reaches down, thumb stroking over your cheek. “I can’t let anyone see what you look like when you’re like this. They’ll keep thinking about you doing it for them. And you’d only do it for me — right?”

You nod immediately, your response causing your mouth to slip down his shaft just a little more. It elicits a guttural noise from him, one that fuels you into sucking him just a little harder, your enthusiasm overtaking your restraint. His fingers have let go of your hair, stroking it back into smoothness, almost comforting in their movements.

“God, I wish you could see yourself; you’d know what I mean,” he continues to murmur, his voice just a little louder over the eager, wet noises you’re making. “How pretty you look with your mouth wrapped around me. How perfect you are when you’re kneeling like this for me — how happy you look when you’re sucking me off. I can’t share that with anyone. Fuck — not ever.”

Your mouth draws back, completely this time, and your tongue presses against the underside of his cock. You lick a long stripe up his shaft, moaning softly at the light throb you feel, and you watch him tip his head back. The groan that follows soon after is almost close to a frustrated growl, ending in a whispered ‘shit’ before his eyes land back on you. He watches you press kiss after kiss against his tip, coaxing the precum out even more, and you take special care to leave more down each inch of his cock until you’re finally able to release your hold on his base so you can leave the last one there.

His hand combs your hair back before it falls to cup your chin, his thumb swiping at the corner of your mouth to gently clean up the froth of spittle there. You smile up at him in thanks, and his thumb sweeps over the seam of your lips to follow the slight curve.

“So pretty,” he repeats, and your cheeks glow pink under the palms that caress them. He leans down, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Pretty as hell, fucking perfect — and you’re all mine.”

You kneel up again, chasing his lips with your own, and he locks you in his arms as his tongue slips its way past your teeth, the aroma of coffee still on it. He leaves today’s taste of him against your tongue, on the ridges of your teeth, until you feel like you’ve all but consumed him, and you whimper softly when he pulls away, urging you to turn around and lean back into his chest.

His mouth reattaches itself to the same spot; it’s like a home base for him, and he breathes in your scent from there before giving the same patch of skin a light suck, almost as if he’s worried it’ll fade in a few minutes’ time if he doesn’t give it attention.

“Show me.” Hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them lightly, like a prompt for your response. “Show me how pretty you are for me.”

His palms never leave you, not even when you detach yourself from his chest and bend down; your elbows meet the mattress, but your hips stay raised, giving him a view of your pussy. Your gasp easily turns into a moan when his digit dips into your wetness again, his other hand pushing gently at your asscheek to keep you open.

You think he’s about to slip his finger in, the tip brushing against your entrance, and you tense in anticipation, but it doesn’t happen; he continues to run his finger down your slit, careful not to linger against your clit for too long. The result is that you tighten around nothing, and you hear him suck in a breath as he watches your hole grow smaller for a second. You laugh breathily, resting your chin against the backs of your hands, one folded atop the other. “Pretty enough for you to fuck?”

“Do you have to ask if you already know?”

“I want to hear it anyway.”

His finger slips into your hole, finally, and you keen softly as he breaches the first ring of tightness. He doesn’t really move it, just tests your tightness, feels you contract around him as if to know what his cock will feel in a few moments.

“Your pussy’s too pretty not to fuck,” he manages out, and his throat sounds as tight as you feel. “Seeing it like this… makes me think there’s no way anyone can resist. It’s exactly why I can’t let anyone see you like this.”

You hum as his finger presses in deeper, and you know it’s nothing in comparison to the real thing, but you like feeling that mild stretch, the depth it reaches all the same. “How should we let them know, then? That I’m all yours.”

His finger stills, and you hum softly, swaying your hips to shake him out of whatever trance he’s in. He’s grown quiet, but there’s a thoughtfulness in this pause, like he’s seriously considering your question. You laugh lightly, ready to tell him you’re just egging him on until he fucks you, but he slips his finger out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing again. You can’t help the confused noise that comes out of you, but you at least know he isn’t completely backing away, his other hand still firmly on your ass.

“Mark, what—”

You get your answer in the thud that interrupts your question — he’s tossed his phone onto the bed, having it land next to you. Something in your blood runs hot, and your fingers tremble when you pick it up. You see yourself reflected in the blackened screen — excitement in your eyes, your lips glossy from your blowjob.

Mark’s silent as you let the meaning of his actions settle; wordlessly, he slips his finger into you again, followed by another one this time, and you shudder in pleasure at the difference in the stretch. He doesn’t ask, but you can tell he’s wondering if he’s gone too far— if you think he’s crazy. He lets his fingers stay anchored in you, unmoving, waiting for you to say something, but from where he is, he just can’t know the smile that passes your face.

Finally, he tries to speak up. “We don’t have to— I just meant—”

“What’s your passcode?”

He breathes out, the exhale quivering as much as you probably are. “Your birthday.”

Your smile only widens when you tap the screen to life and see a picture of you — you don’t even remember when he’d taken it, but it’s a shot of you sprawled on his bed, bundled in his blanket and reading something that looks oddly like your textbook for your European Renaissance History class. It’s grainy and dimly lit, a stolen photograph of you, but it makes your heart swell, and you laugh lightly as you key in your birthday; the screen unlocks, allowing you access to all his applications.

“What’s funny?”

“Just thinking about how you should replace this wallpaper.”

“To what?” He sounds bemused.

“The view of me you have now.”

His fingers curl in you, pressing down against your walls, and you push your hips back in a bid for more friction; you hear him hiss out a ‘fuck’ under his breath, and his hand digs harder into the flesh of your ass.

You open Mark’s contacts, scrolling down aimlessly. Most of the names, you don’t recognize, but you see a few familiar ones crop up here and there. He doesn’t ask, only starts pumping his fingers into you in quiet anticipation, wondering how far you’re willing to take it, how much you’ve bought into this crazy idea.

“Mark,” you call out, and he hums in response. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“With my life.”

“So if I called Donghyuck right now—” His fingers hook into you, the delicious pressure on your walls making you squeak instead of finish your sentence immediately. You twist your torso to meet his eyes, and you’re slightly surprised but not at all displeased to see something crazed lingering in his gaze. “How much of a show would you want to put on for him?”

He shifts his weight, his knee sinking into the mattress as he slots it between your legs. This change in position allows him to angle his fingers a little differently, driving down into you with a force that makes you squirm. You almost forget you’ve asked him something again until he leans in closer, his murmur almost drowned out by the slick sounds of his finger pressing into your hole.

“Just… enough for him to know you’ve always been mine.”

Your thumbs are shaking when you scroll through his contacts again, up and down until you find the right name — Lee Donghyuck — and Mark watches you intently, wordlessly, as you press his number, start the call, and put it on speaker.

The wait feels like an eternity, with Mark’s finger slipping in and out of you in a steady, languid pace as you watch the line connect, but in reality, Donghyuck really only answers after the fourth ring. “Yo, Mark.”

His voice is casual, lacking in any sort of expectation; you can hear explosions and gunshots in the background, and you’re willing to bet he’s in the middle of an action movie. You’re proven right when you hear random English babbling soon after.

“Hi, Hyuck.”

“___________?” He sounds genuinely confused that it’s you that greets him. “Where’s Mark? You okay?”

“He’s right here with me; don’t worry.” Your voice is a soft croon, and he has to lower the volume of the television to be able to hear you better. “We’re totally fine. What are you up to?”

“Watching Resident Evil. Uh, is there a reason you called?”

You want to draw out the lie of something casual for as long as you can, but Mark doesn’t let you. His fingers push, suddenly forceful, into you, and you let out a soft cry into the receiver. You look back at him, eyes wide with amusement, and he shrugs, having at least enough sense to look slightly abashed at his experiment.

One moment, you’re listening to a female voice shout something, and the next, Donghyuck’s side of the call is silent except for his breathing. When you don’t bother explaining what had just happened, he takes matters into his own hands.

“Hello?”

He sounds equal parts affronted and amused, like the shock of it has tickled him. You can’t help it; you laugh too, but it’s quickly cut off by another whine when Mark pulls his fingers out. Donghyuck makes an incredulous noise.

“Now, what the fuck is all this about, you freaks?”

“You kept wondering why I ended up asking Mark out,” you evade his question with another one. “Should I tell you why, if you’re that curious?”

“No way. Have fun, weirdos,” he laughs, and the line goes dead a second after.

You snort out a laugh, and Mark mumbles something that sounds vaguely like that was crazy before he leans down and presses a kiss to the small of your back. You make to turn so you can finally face him, but you’re distracted when his phone screen lights up again, and Donghyuck’s name flashes across it.

You exchange amused glances before you pick up the call, and you don’t even get a ‘hello’ out when his voice rings out, sharp and clear.

“But pretending I am,” he says, as though he hadn’t hung up the call a few seconds ago. “Exactly what kind of answer would I get?”

“The kind that’ll hopefully shut you up for good,” Mark pipes in instead of you.

“What’s that even going to sound like?” Already, Donghyuck’s activated whatever toggle in him that gets him to push Mark’s buttons. This time, though, you can’t say it works against you; you feel Mark inch closer to you, and a moment later, the fat tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. “I bet you can’t even get her to yawn, man.”

Mark doesn’t have to respond; you do it for him when he pushes in, torturously slow, as if to draw out your moan. It works a little too well, with you keening into the phone, and yet no part of you is acting for his sake. As familiar as the stretch is, it’s not something you’ve ever been able to commit to memory fully, and it feels like a new breaching of your tightness each time. Your legs fold in slightly, a useless movement that attempts to get you adjusted to his size faster, but Mark interprets it as discomfort, his hands tightening on your hips.

“You okay?” He sounds genuinely worried for a second, forgetting that Donghyuck’s still on the line. Your cheek brushes against his sheets as you nod, trying to meet his eye even in this position to let him know you’re being honest.

“Fucking big, Mark.” You hear Donghyuck tsk from his end, and you laugh breathlessly. “You don’t like knowing he’s big?”

“I just hate that fucker,” Donghyuck quips back easily, but there’s no seriousness in his voice. If anything, it sounds a little raspy, with him clearing his throat soon afterward.

“Well, I’m crazy about him,” you whisper into the call, and your breathing hitches as Mark finally bottoms out, groaning at your tightness. “I’m crazy about the way he touches me, the way he tastes. I’m crazy about how big his cock is, how deep it gets when he’s inside me, how he stretches me out — fuck—”

Your verbal rampage is cut short by a loud moan as Mark draws his hips back and pushes forcefully into you; you haven’t fully adjusted, and you’re even tighter now from what you’re saying, so the friction inside you is nothing short of delicious. He starts a pattern of thrusts, not bothering to build up from his usual slow and steady pace — hearing you talk that way and knowing that Donghyuck is listening is enough to get him to abandon self-imposed restrictions.

“Mark,” you whine out, accidentally pushing the phone a little further away as you reach out blindly for him behind you, and he catches your wrist to let you know he’s there. “Mark, fuck, it feels so good—”

You tighten around him as if to prove your words, and he growls in response. You find yourself having to press your cheek in a little harder into the mattress as he gathers your wrists together into one hand, pinning them to your lower back, and it’s with that hold on you that he leverages his thrusts, pumping into you a little harder each time.

You’re not completely unaware of your surroundings, but it takes a while for you to process the sounds coming from the phone’s speaker — labored breathing, the sound of a zipper being pulled down. You want to wonder if this is working a little too well, but nothing comes from your mouth apart from soft whimpers, and it’s all the cue Mark needs to be the one to fill in the relative silence himself.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, and you feel his lips press between your shoulder blades. It feels like a chaste kiss at first, but he leaves his breath there, still flitting over your skin as he continues to speak. “I’ll never get tired of how pretty you are — how pretty you always sound for me. Doesn’t she sound pretty, Hyuck?”

“Fucking pretty,” Donghyuck agrees, though his voice sounds somewhat distant. You can only sob back a quiet ‘fuck me, harder, harder,’ in response.

“Can you imagine how much prettier she looks under me?” It’s almost a full-blown conversation now, but even if Mark’s addressing Donghyuck, the rest of his attention’s fully on you. He adjusts his stance, still keeping his hold around your wrists as he angles himself deeper into you, causing you to cry out and squirm in pleasure. With your face pressed against the bed and his weight driving down into you, you feel utterly trapped, in the best kind of way. Mark, in the way he is now, is inescapable, almost incorrigible, and he pistons deeper into your pussy, his free hand brushing your hair away from your shoulder so he can leave a kiss against it. “Bent over, legs spread just a little, all for me to take. Pretty little hole wet for me, and so fucking tight. Can you imagine that?”

“I’m doing it right now.”

“It’s a thousand times better in person. Trust me.”

The same hand slips between your thighs, two fingers spreading your folds apart; the middle one circles your clit in a pace that matches his thrusts, sudden and shocking, and you arch your back upwards slightly with a choked noise. He finally releases your wrists, and you claw at the sheets helplessly to keep yourself somehow upright as the force of Mark’s hips, their impact against the backs of your thighs, pushes you forward, closer to the phone again. The stimulation is merciless, endless, and in the haze of your pleasure, you wonder if you should make Mark a little more jealous everyday if it gets him to act this way.

“Mark, I…. I’ve been— s-since—”

“Not yet,” he whispers, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as if to bring you back to reality. You shudder at the pain, the pleasure that accompanies it, and when you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, you notice that a few tears escape your eyes. “Hold out for me a bit, okay? Please. It’s not enough. Not yet enough.”

You wonder if ‘enough’ is a concept the both of you even understand when it comes to wanting each other; already, you feel desire pooling in your stomach, threatening to spill from you, and clenching around him isn’t helping you stop it the way your body seems to think it’s supposed to. It also doesn’t help that Mark’s fingers are relentless, one still drawing tight, heavy circles around your clit, and the other creeping up under your shirt to tug down the cup of your bra, letting a breast spill into his warm palm. He kneads with an unusual — but not unpleasant — roughness, and you squeak out incoherently as he tweaks at the hardened bud of your nipple, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Hold on for me a little,” he continues murmuring, even after you shake your head and whisper ‘can’t’ to him over and over. “Do it for me. Tell Donghyuck — tell him how good it feels. How much you want to keep feeling me inside you.”

You don’t even know what to say; the pleasure that washes over you, the new kind of roughness that Mark exhibits has you drawing a blank, and you can only whine in a last attempt at protest, only for your tongue to start moving on autopilot, fueled by your want.

“It’s not enough,” you echo — and even if it feels like it is, even if it feels even more than you can possibly handle, something tells you that it’s true. “Not enough — need to feel you more, Mark. God, I want to feel you stretch me out, fuck my little hole into the shape of your cock— until no one else can fuck me but you—”

“What,” Donghyuck breathes out, his exhale coming across as static. “The fuck.”

You don’t have to explain; your babbling’s doing most of the work in that regard anyway, and you can tell by the wet, staccato noises on the other end that Donghyuck can easily piece together the scenario anyway. He’s jacking off to the both of you, something in your mind whispers, and the notion of that alone has you tightening around Mark’s cock. The change doesn’t go unnoticed, and his fingers sink deeper into your flesh; you cry out softly when you feel a jolt of pleasure as he gives your clit a sudden pinch.

“How much tighter can you get?” He sounds incredulous but also, interestingly, proud — there’s a smug tinge to his voice that arouses you even more. “Does it feel that good?”

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe out, the syllables quivering in your throat. “So good I’m going to lose my mind. Let me — God, please, let me—”

“Not yet,” Mark mumbles, and you whimper as he slows and slips out of you, his hand gently rubbing your folds in what feels like comfort — a small apology for his overt enthusiasm that you don’t even really need. “Just a little more. I need to see it.”

“See what?” Donghyuck’s voice is barely above a whisper, hoarse and pretty much muffled by the sound of his hand pumping his own shaft. Your head’s light, so your body moves on its own when Mark inches away slightly, giving you room to turn yourself around and lay on your back. You’ve barely even settled when he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him and easing your thighs apart to slot himself between your legs.

His cock weighs heavy, pressed up against your folds, and he pushes his hips in a superficial thrust to get them to spread. His eyes fall briefly on your swollen clit, the wetness that you left on his shaft, even more of it still leaking from your hole. When he looks back up at you, there’s something triumphant in his gaze.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he coos, so lovingly it’d be hard to imagine his cock still sliding against your folds if you couldn’t feel it yourself. “I’ll never get enough of your perfect pussy — so perfect that it was made to take me.”

“See what?” Donghyuck presses, an impatience now coloring his voice. Mark chuckles, nodding at you and mouthing silently. Tell him.

Your inhale’s shaky, quivering like the rest of your body, and you don’t ever break away from Mark’s gaze, even as you speak.

“His cock fucking me in my stomach.”

Donghyuck’s ‘Jesus fucking Christ’ is drowned out by your cry of need as Mark pushes back into you. There’s no lag time now, no wait for any kind of adjustment; he takes you in one motion, until you feel his hips hit the backs of your thighs again. Your walls flutter around him, unable to process his size fully, and all that comes out of you is a string of messy mewls that’s constantly interrupted by the wet sounds of his thrusts.

Your body feels almost weightless, the only thing you can understand being the feeling of his cock pumping into you, stretching you out further. You’re only able to shake yourself out of the reverie when you feel his hands push back against your thighs, folding you in half, before they crowd atop your stomach.

“God, I need to feel it,” he groans out, his palms skimming under your navel, searching. “Please — do it for me.”

Even with your brain muddled, you don’t even have to try to figure it out; you let him feel it every time he asks. You inhale, deep and slow, until your stomach sinks, and the walls of your stomach flatten against his cock, which pauses briefly in its movements as he revels in the newfound feeling.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, and you flush in pleasure, in satisfaction at his praise. “Love seeing my cock inside you.”

He adjusts himself before he starts pumping into you again, burying his shaft all the way to the hilt each time; each thrust is followed by a soft sob from you, and you reach out, planting your hands on top of his. You obviously can’t feel his cock under your palms, but you don’t have to anyway; the fit’s tight enough that it feels, ridiculously, like he’s fucking your whole body, like he’s pressing into the deepest part of your core. You just want him to feel it more — the movement of the bulge under his hands, the resistance it has to push through to get to your stomach.

“Love feeling me inside you,” he continues, and his breathing stutters then, signaling that he’s also barely hanging on. “Love seeing how pretty you look when I rearrange your insides.”

You mouth out a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ that earns you a simple smile, but Mark’s unrelenting in his movements anyway, his palms completely covering your stomach.

“Dude, I wanna see it too,” Donghyuck reminds you both of his presence when his voice comes through the speaker. “Put her on video.”

“No way,” comes Mark’s swift, firm reply. Donghyuck makes a noise of protest. “This is just for me.”

“Selfish as hell, calling me without really sharing.”

“The point wasn’t really ever to share.”

Mark’s hands suddenly press down on your stomach, and you stifle a soft scream; the pressure increases tenfold, as does the tightness of the fit, his cock brushing against your walls in a way that makes you feel breathless — it makes you feel used. Your hands fly up, fingers locking behind his neck, and you squirm under him, knowing fully well that you can’t escape anyway — not that you really want to, anyway.

“Mark,” you warn him again, your voice thin and airy. “I can’t anymore — I really—”

“I got you,” he murmurs — something you’ve come to learn he always says, always wants to let you know. He’ll be here until you break, until you can’t take anymore. “One second, okay?”

“Bro, what? Are you serious—” Even Donghyuck sounds confused, although his voice is tight too; he must be close, your mind weakly registers, but it doesn’t matter. Mark, albeit reluctantly, slips one hand away from your stomach — for a good cause, he must think, and you learn what it is when he ends the call, effectively cutting off Donghyuck’s complaints. Your eyes widen in confusion, but all Mark’s gaze is to you is reassuring, gentle, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips before he answers your unspoken question.

“Can’t let him hear you cum,” he murmurs against your mouth. “That’s only for me, isn’t it?”

You nod, letting the movement of it brush your lips against his. “You’re the only one I’ll cum for — the only one that can make me.”

Above your head, his phone is trilling noisily; the vibrations course through your back, weak but persistent, and for some reason, it heightens your arousal all the more. Mark ignores it completely, single-mindedly focused on pistoning into you with the bulk of his strength. His hands push down just under your navel, increasing your awareness of the feeling of his cock, him fucking you, coaxing out your climax.

“Do it. Show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.”

You don’t think it’s possible for him to inject any more strength into his movements, but he proves you wrong time and time again; the wind’s knocked out of you as he braces himself and fucks you harder, sharper into the bed, and the only noises you can make are weak whimpers and choked sobs. Your mind’s so overrun with pleasure that your climax hits your body first before your mind fully parses it; your back arches again, and you mewl out something broken, something that sounds like his name as you come undone.

Mark still doesn’t relent, the tremble in your legs somehow only inspiring him to put more power in his thrusts. Even through the dazedness that comes with all the stimulation, you can see the fine details you’ve come to know so well — the tightness in his jaw, the growing flush across his collar, the quick heaving of his chest. He’s close too, so close he’s just holding himself back out of sheer force of will to make sure he can watch you come down from your climax completely. You don’t know why he has to, but you want to see him let go too, and you scramble for words, for more touch — pressing your thighs firm against his sides to keep him close, locked — just to get him there.

“Will you mark me up one last time?” You breathe out. He reacts almost instantaneously, moving to lean down and press his mouth against the still-untouched side of your neck, but your palm on his chest stops him from doing so. Surprise crosses his face, followed by slight confusion. You squeeze your thighs against him, trying to make your point, but even then, his brow furrows. “Mark me — inside.”

His eyes widen, and his hips stutter before they resume pace, his fingers digging into your stomach almost painfully as he tries to keep himself in control. “I— no, you know I can’t…”

“Do you want to?” You egg him on, your hand dropping from his chest to land on top of his again, adding to the pressure until you’re sure he can feel every small movement, every throb of his own cock inside you. “You can, you know — make me yours, from the inside out.”

“God — we can’t; you know we’d be in so much trouble.”

“But I’d let you anyway, if you wanted to. Do you ever think about it, Mark?” Your fingers toy with his, almost like you’re having a casual conversation instead of a situation in which he’s deep inside you, already aching for release. “Fucking your cum deep into me, letting it seep into my stomach — making sure no one else can fill me up?”

“Jesus,” he growls, and he reluctantly slips his hands out from under yours to grip your thighs. Realistically, he has enough strength to peel them away, have you release him, but his hold just tightens, not really making any motion to do so. You see the thought flash in his eyes, serious even just for a moment. He thinks about it all the time.

“Think about it,” you urge, your voice soft but close to a demand. “And every time you do, remember one day, you will — because you’re the only one that can.”

He tilts his head back, letting a growl rip from his throat, and he finally manages to push your thighs apart. You let him, let them fall apart so he can slip out of you. You watch him shift upwards, his knees on either side of your torso, and you’re met with the erotic sight of him fisting his cock in front of you, urging himself into completion. You do the only thing you can think of to help; you open your mouth wide, pushing your tongue out, silently asking for his load.

“Even when you do that, you’re fucking pretty,” he groans out, and his thumb presses his cock down, resting the underside flush against your tongue as he rocks his hips. “How much prettier are you going to look with my cum all over your face?”

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out, and you don’t have to respond; he gets the answer he wants with one last thrust against your tongue, and you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself to drink in the taste, the smell of his cum as it streaks across your cheeks, all over your lips. You hear his release as it comes too — the soft rumble from his chest, the release of air that gently whistles through his teeth.

When you open your eyes again, Mark is looking down at you, a warm flush creeping up his cheeks and ears again; he’s breathless, panting as he comes down from his high. From the daze of his climax, a slightly sheepish look of apology crosses his face, and he reaches down, seemingly without any real plan, to clean you up, only to withdraw, slightly bemused, when you shake your head.

A laugh escapes him when you shimmy out from under him, straighten up, and extend your arms upward, puckering your lips in slight demand. You think he might reject you, but Mark doesn’t even hesitate longer than a second. He swoops down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, and your thighs press together tight as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue swiping away his cum from your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, sucking softly as if to clean you completely.

When he pulls away, his head dips into your shoulder; again, his face turns to press against the mark he’d left, and his teeth nip at the soft bruise that’s already begun to blossom. Satisfied by the soft noise you make at the sensitivity you feel from the contact, he breathes out, long and steady, against your skin.

“Just… can’t get enough of you,” he finally exhales, pressing another kiss to your neck; it’s gentler, situated just under your jaw.

“You don’t ever have to think about having enough,” you whisper, leaving a light nuzzle against his shoulder. “Just always think about having more.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, but he nods, accepting your offer anyway. A moment of silence passes, where you’re wrapped up in each other, his weight against you in a blanket of heat, and it stretches to what almost feels like an eternity — if not for the phone suddenly ringing again, Donghyuck’s name coming up on the ID. You both start, and Mark reaches over, fumbling with the sides of his device before he finds and toggles the silent switch.

“Seriously,” he grumbles, watching the call drop just for it to start up again, the screen flashing.

“We kind of left him hanging, to be fair.”

“No fairness.” Mark tosses the phone to the foot of the bed, where it lies, facedown and buzzing. “He got more than he deserved today.”

You watch him as he slips off the bed, rearranging himself before clipping his jeans button back into place. He whispers a gentle ‘be right back’ and exits the room, leaving the door only slightly ajar. You hear the water run in the bathroom, and a few moments later, Mark returns to your side, holding a damp towel.

He leaves a kiss after each light swipe across your face, as if to apologize for the pain he thinks he might be causing; you laugh, partly because it’s ridiculous, but mostly because you like it. He cleans your mouth last, even though there’s already nothing left, just so he has an excuse to leave a long, lasting kiss there.

You think it’s the last you’ll get for now, but he surprises you by bending down even further, hiking your shirt up your torso again. His hand rests on your thigh, keeping himself balanced as he presses a flutter of kisses around your navel, lingering at the exact spot that sits above where he knows his cock hits every time he bottoms out in you.

“One day,” he whispers into your skin before he looks up at you, his eyes shining. “I’ll really make you all mine.”

“Dummy.” Your voice is just as low, and you pull his head up again, enjoying the brush of his hair against your hand, the swoop of his jaw under your palm. “How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Every single day, considering I’ll never get tired of it.”

You hum, not one to deny him of what he asks anyway; you push him back onto his calves, climbing back onto his lap; it’s your favorite way to be near him, you decide, with almost nothing between you, almost everything of yours touching everything of his — like you fit in him perfectly. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling their soft rise and fall as his breathing steadies, and you squirm a bit, if only to make sure his arms are locked securely around you — to make sure he won’t let go. Just like that, in his arms, you say it again — a truth, a fact, and a promise.

“I already am.”

[satxnsupreme666]

You don’t need to be alone anymore: Agatha Harkness/Agnes x fem!reader

Masterlist

Requested by: @midnight-lestrange

Summary: You´re a lonely witch who was never accepted in any coven because everyone was afraid of your dark powers, you got used to live alone for many centuries, but when you meet Agatha in Westview you fall in love with her, you´re scared of getting attached to her so you try to ignore her, but Agatha never gives up.

Words: 7k+

Warnings: Angst but fluff in the end.

Author´s note: Hi, this was a requested story, I do not know if I should tag the people who requested at the time, I want to be respectful, so I am not sure if I should tag them, I will try and do it since it was their request and their idea and if any of the people who requested back at the time now feel uncomfortable being tagged, please let me know and I will delete the tag.

This was one of the first stories I wrote three years ago, I had posted them on Tumblr on my old account, but due to my mental health, I had to take a break from Tumblr and the toxicity and hate that had suddenly increased, I deleted all of my stories and my old account, now I have decided to upload them again here on Tumblr and also on Ao3.

Again, as this was one of the first stories I wrote for Agatha Harkness is a little bit short, I will be uploading the rest of the stories from time to time, I have to edit them and make sure they are legible enough and with not a lot of grammatical errors.

I hope you like it!

If you enjoy, could you comment, like or reblog? it would help a lot really ♥️

Taglist: @midnight-lestrange  @eliscannotdance

Doing everything on your own wasn’t a big deal for you, passing all your life alone had made you stronger, you didn’t need anyone in your life and you were alright by just being on your own.

At least that was what you kept telling yourself at nights when sometimes the only thing that you needed was a hug.

The feeling of a hug someone had gave to you felt so far away, almost like a dream as if it was something unreal, dreaming about the feeling deep down you craved the most.

But then just as the thoughts of needing comfort came to your mind they quickly vanished too.

Now that you were trapped in Westview playing the role Wanda had given to you it wasn’t too hard.

The fact that Wanda had given you the role of a lonely girl living by herself and from time to time having to attend to Dottie’s meetings wasn’t a hard thing to do, it was not far from who you really were, so it was not a big thing to do.

Eastview was a really grey and kind of a sad place to live in, it had been some centuries ago when you arrived to the town, by the time you first stepped in, it wasn’t even called like that, and it was a really good thing that there were no other witches around when you arrived.

Witches were afraid of you because of you dark powers, and not just a few witches, centuries ago you had looked for a safe coven to be part of and at first, they all had accepted you with open arms but just as soon as they saw your powers, they became afraid.

Being the daughter of a witch who had practiced dark magic for most of her life well, you had inherited dark magic as well, you were not sure how that was possible but it had happened and you couldn’t get rid of your magic.

You really didn’t understand why all of the other witches were so afraid, you were not a bad person and you thought that you could help people even if you had dark powers, but your opinion didn’t matter to them, they just wanted you away from them and that hurt a lot.

Going from coven to coven with high hopes that maybe in the next one they would help you control and understand your magic, but none of that happened, no one wanted you near, so you just accepted your faith.

You realized no one would ever be there for you and no one would ever stand up for you, so you decided that you didn’t need someone and that no one would ever hurt you or abandon you again, this time you would ignore everyone.

Two days ago, when Wanda arrived at Eastview you sensed her magic and before you could even understand what was going on, everything changed, your house and your clothing had changed too and, in your mind, there were pictures of a different life you had never had.

You quickly understood what was going on, someone was trying to implant fake memories but your magic was stronger than this new magic, so this didn’t get to you.

Wanda’s magic hadn’t affected your mind but it looked like it had affected all of the inhabitants of what was now called Westview, you found it interesting how this could have been possible? You brushed the thought off maybe it was not so bad.

The clothes were pretty cool and maybe a little change in the town wasn’t so bad, you just had to play along the memories that were supposed to be real and you even got a new name as well as everyone, but you were a bit curious, had the personality of your neighbors changed as well or did it remain the same?

It was kind of late and you wanted to rest, and according to your new memories and the calendar tomorrow you had a meeting at the club so tomorrow you would find what else had changed.

Now you were just waking up and the weather was nice also you will have a meeting with other girls so now you would know what really was going on, feeling quite excited to know what else was new you prepared yourself for the day and after getting everything done and giving a final check at yourself in the mirror you left your house, walking down the street you already knew where you were walking as if there had been always this club and you had attended hundreds of times, yes it was weird but at the same time interesting.

Arriving at the club you noticed that just three women were sitting in the poolside benches but you were sure the others would arrive at any moment, so you just sat at one of the chairs that formed kind of a circle.

One thing you noticed was that the other residents had a dim red light around them, if you put enough attention you would see it around them that’s how you know they were being controlled.

When everybody start to arrive at the chairs you noticed they were walking behind Sarah and they were talking to her as if she was a celebrity, so her role was to be in charge of everything and the other women just followed her, you found this funny, Sarah was usually nice to you but sometimes she could be a little mean to other people but actually she was not that bossy so you didn’t mind, still you wanted to know more.

You were looking at all the other women and how some of them were acting far from how they really were, some of them used to be really nice and now they were just like some kind of mean girls, one of them was really shy when normally she would be making everybody laugh, you were so focused on examining everything that you didn’t notice some sitting right next you.

Now you just learned that Sarah’s new name was Dottie and everyone wanted her validation, even though you found this funny you were not a person who would usually express how you were feeling, it was something you had learnt to cover over the years.

The meeting kept going mostly with Dottie speaking all the time you were really not paying attention until you heard someone at your side

“This might help a little” Your heard someone saying that beside you and when you turned your head to look at the owner of the voice you saw a woman with dark-brown hair showing you what it looked like a small alcohol container, you were trying hard not to laugh but her comment had been really funny, you just looked at her and tried to ignore her quickly putting your attention or at least you tried to, back at Dottie, but what it was interesting is that this woman didn’t have the red tint around herself, also you had never seen her, but you tried to ignore that fact too.

After 10 minutes later you heard the same voice of the pretty woman whispering again

“Really, how is anybody doing this sober?” This time you had to bit your lip not to laugh, she was really funny, but you had to maintain a serious face.

You noticed this woman was eyeing you by the corner of your eye, she was looking at you, she was trying to see any type of reaction at her words, she was interested and just as you notice the red mist around the people, she had noticed the same and she could see that you didn’t have any, and by the time she was entering the club she felt a strong magic coming from the place, it was dark but at the same time she didn’t feel any type of danger coming from this magic.

When she noticed you sitting in the chair, she became aware that the power was coming from you, it was strong, how could Wanda not notice it? Well, she was immersed in her own made up world so it would be hard for her to notice there was something different around this town.

She wanted to catch your attention but you seemed like you were not interested in her at all.

Finally when the meeting finished you saw Dottie walking towards you and you wondered what she wanted, maybe a little help with the organization of the talent show, you noticed that the two women next to you were still sitting there, the woman who said the funny comments and the other one, now you could see the other woman you realized she had been the one who had changed everything in the town, you could feel her power and the same red mist that emanated from her.

“Sweety would you like to help decorating the place?” Asked Dottie, you nodded you really didn’t have anything else to do and this was quite interesting.

“Hey Dottie I can help her to decorate the place, many hands can do better things than just a pair” The humorous woman said winking at you, deep down you were laughing internally but physically you just sighed and kept looking at Dottie

“Great, now my favorite girl won´t be alone, right?” It was curious, Sarah the real person, when she first met you she wanted to get close to you, she wanted to be your friend but of course you didn’t want that the story of someone leaving you would repeat again, so you just acted cold towards her and in the end she decided to distance herself, but now with the new personality, Dottie treated you like when she first met you.

“ OH, her favorite girl huh? Why is that, are you two, you know?” Said the dark-brown haired woman with a smirk in her face, Dottie just rolled her eyes at her

“Now Agnes that doesn’t concern you” So her name is or more like her role was to be Agnes, you thought, who was she really?

“So now that Agnes offered, you two can deck out the garden and I will make sure that everything concerning the chairs and the tables is in order” You nodded saw that while Dottie was leaving the woman that was next to Agnes followed Dottie.

You were about to leave to go to the place where everything was supposed to take place and you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Now darling I think we have a lot to talk, don´t we? We really don´t have to decorate anything it was just something Wanda-“ Agnes pointed at the woman with the red hair before speaking again

“Wanda made Dottie say, I think she wanted to talk to her alone, you´ll see there will be more people decorating, now I need to talk to you, let´s go to a more private place away from Wanda, shall we?” So now you understood that she knew you were aware, you saw her stretching out her arm, it looked like she wanted you to link her arm with hers, you were not about to do it.

“Let´s go to a different place but please do not link your arm with me, we can just walk side by side, but that´s all, alright?” You started to walk towards the exit and you didn’t see Agatha squinting her eyes to look at you, she was curious, you were a little different, and she wanted to know what was going on with you, how had you ended up here in Westview and how you had dark magic.

Agnes placed herself next to you, she was a little taller than you and she eyed you again, she didn’t understand why you were such a serious person.

“Maybe we could go to my house darling, no one will interrupt us there, is that alright with you?” You just nodded you really didn’t have anything to lose.

Agnes guided the walk you just followed her through the streets, her house was not so far from the club.

Arriving at her front porch she opened the door and let you in first, you found this very cute and charming from her part but you were not about to say that to her you also tried to hide the slight blush that appeared in your face.

She smirked she could swear she had seen you blush but she decided not to say anything.

Agnes closed her door and she saw you standing there in her living room, you looked lost.

“You can sit darling this will take some time” You nodded again and decided to sit in one of the couches, just when you sat down Agnes went to what you guessed was the kitchen, you took a deep breath and tried to stay calm, rubbing your hands against your dress trying to soothe yourself, being around Agnes who is a really pretty woman you couldn’t help but to be nervous, although you were pretty good at hiding what you were actually feeling, when you heard her footsteps coming closer you sat straight and put on your serious face.

“Here you have sweetheart a glass of cold lemonade, I did it myself” She said handing to you the glass, you took it from her and took a quick sip, it was great.

“Thank you” You said without looking at her, she waited some minutes, waiting to see if you were going to say something else, but when she realized you were not going to say something else, Agnes sighed.

“Alright I can see you´re a quiet girl, but that´s alright I have a lot to say for both of us” She said looking at you all the time, you just nodded and finally you stared at her, now that you were looking cautiously you noticed how pretty her blue eyes were, she was really pretty and her power was really strong you could sense it, you felt drawn to it, maybe because her powers were like yours, both of your came from dark magic.

Agnes sat herself in the couch in front of you, never taking her eyes off you.

“My real name is Agatha Harkness, buttercup, and I´m a witch but I´m pretty sure you already know that, I can sense your power, is strong, really strong and I can feel the darkness coming from you, but I´m curious dear, I don´t feel any danger coming from your magic, what is it? Who are you? Just a few witches are brave enough to embrace the beauty of dark magic”

You were lost for words, she was not afraid of your magic, she was interested and everything she had said about dark magic was simply beautiful, no one had ever spoken about dark magic like her, you felt something breaking inside you, you wanted to tell her everything, suddenly you just wanted to tell her so she could hold you, denying yourself a simply thing like a hug for centuries now was taking its toll on you, you just wanted someone to hold you.

Agatha never stopped watching you, and she could swear that she saw you struggling with your own thoughts, you were not a threat and she could feel that even though you had dark magic you wouldn’t be able to put someone in danger, you looked so broken but you hide it behind that cold mask, Agatha had seen all of this by just looking at your sad eyes.

The feeling didn’t last longer, you quickly composed yourself and took another sip of your lemonade.

“My name´s y/n, and it is not my fault that I possess this dark magic, it was my mother´s fault, she was pregnant when she started to play with dark magic, and I´m not sure how but my mother told me that when I was born, dark magic was already running through my veins”

You told her trying to act as if that hadn’t doomed you to be alone for the rest of your life.

Agatha was surprised, she had never heard of someone who had been born out of dark magic, this was strange, how could you have dark magic within you but at the same time you were not interested in your powers, you seemed as if you despise them.

“Have you used them to obtain something? Dark magic can be very powerful dear” The pet names she was calling you were too much for you to handle, no one had ever called you like that, and you were dangerously liking the way she was talking to you.

Should you tell her that you didn’t know how to use your powers? No one taught you how to use them, all the witches were afraid of you.

“I´m not interested in my powers” You told her looking right into her eyes in order to make her believe that you were telling the truth.

Agatha of course didn’t believe you; you had a great power within you, how could you not be interested in it? This was unbelievable, but she realized that you were not going to tell her the truth, so she had to try something else, Agatha sighed again and she placed her hand under her chin, examining you.

“Alright, then how did you arrive here? Did you feel Wanda´s power too?” You just blinked, so you were right she didn’t live here, she arrived after Wanda came here, you couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

This look didn’t go unnoticed by Agatha and just kept staring at you.

“I already lived here; Eastview has always been a peaceful place to live” You simply answered not wanting to keep talking, you stood from the couch and Agatha was confused, then how a powerful witch like you had ended up here?

“I think I should leave; the talent show will be ready in a few hours and I think this woman Wanda wants all of us to be there”

Agatha quickly stood and placed herself in front of you touching slightly your arms and you tensed.

“Hey you know, maybe I could help you with your magic, I know a lot about dark magic, we can work together, I can help you to develop more your powers, I can be your mentor” Agatha said with a genuine smile, that was what you had wanted the most years ago, if only someone had offered you help, you hesitated for a moment, you really wanted her help but what if in the end she just leaves like everyone did?

Agatha sensed your hesitation, now she really wanted to help you but she couldn’t understand why you couldn’t accept, what was stopping you?

“Thank you but no, I´m really good on my own, I really don´t need the help of anyone” Once again you were hiding behind that cold mask.

Agatha wanted to insist but she didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable so she decided to give you time to think.

“Alright, then I will see you at the talent show angel”

“See you there Agatha” Agatha gave you a half smile why wouldn’t you let her help you, with a confused look on her face she went to the door to open it for you, you thanked her and stepped out of her house, however Agatha couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way you looked so sad but at the same time so strong, what had happened to you? She had been interested in Wanda´s magic but now you just had drawn her attention, she wanted to get to know you better.

Some hours later you decided to go the talent show, you had never attended to one and even though you had seen real magic in action you were excited for this, it was something new.

Arriving at the place you saw some of the women who had attended to the club already sitting in the chairs, seeing some chairs in front a table that were not taken you sat down there waiting for everything to start.

Putting your elbows on the table you placed you chin on your hands, and minutes later you heard someone sitting next to you, turning your head a little you saw it was Agatha, she smiled gently at you and you waved your hand a little.

“Are you ready to see some dumb fake tricks darling?” She asked winking at you, you just nodded for what it felt like the tenth time in the day.

You noticed Agatha kept looking at you, her glance was so intense that you were afraid she would burn a hole in your face.

By the time the show started you saw Wanda on stage accompanied by a tall man, you didn’t know who it was.

“That’s Wanda’s husband, Vision, dear” Agatha whispered in your ear and your body shivered, this time you couldn’t hide your reaction and Agatha noticed it.

“This is boring, wanna see some real action there darling?” You couldn’t answer because you saw Agatha moving her hands and smoke purple emanated from her hands and quickly you saw what she had caused on stage, you really couldn’t help but laugh, this was really funny and even if you wanted not to laugh you couldn’t help it.

Agatha found it so cute the fact that you were trying to cover your laugh with your hand, she saw the movement on your shoulders and she smiled, she thought your laugh was so sweet and she wanted to make you laugh more.

You couldn’t ignore Agatha; she was a really funny person.

When the tricks and Vision’s act ended you heard him saying he needed a volunteer and Agatha was faster than anyone to make a comment

“Are you sure you don’t want an audience volunteer named "my husband Ralph?” That cracked you up, and this time you laughed, hard, she was hilarious and the other people who heard her laughed as well.

Agatha heard the sound of your laugh and her heart melted at the sound, she looked at you and saw the way your eyes squinted when you were laughing, she had never seen someone so beautiful but with a lot of sadness at the same time, she wanted to do something, she wanted to see you happy and even though she had met you some hours ago, she felt something warm growing inside her chest.

“Darling, you have a beautiful laugh” When you heard that you instantly froze and stopped laughing, your face became serious again and you cleared your throat.

You just turned your head a little you look at her to give her a shy smile

Agatha smiled back at you with a sad smile, you were so beautiful why were you trying so hard to hide yourself? Why didn’t you want to be seen?

When the talent show ended and everyone else clapped you decided it was time to leave, standing up from the chair Agatha stood up as well

“Hey darling do you want me to accompany you to your house?” She asked while trying to grab gently your arm, but you stepped back a little

“No, it’s alright, I can walk alone, have a goodnight Agatha” You said in a rushed you didn’t want to spend a lot of time with her, you couldn’t let yourself get attached to her, if she decided to leave she wouldn’t even think about you, so it was better to evade any other type of interaction, she was just here because of her interest in Wanda’s magic, and she could leave any time, you were not about to fall for a woman you had just met.

Walking alone through the street you arrived at your house, once again the loneliness and sadness took over you, talking to Agatha felt so risky, you didn’t want to end up with your heart broken, she was just so sweet and you couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Agatha wanted to be close to you she wanted to help you with your powers, but you just pushed her away, she felt disappointed because she really wanted to help you one way or another.

Later that night you noticed Westview changing again, and once again the furniture and the decorations changed too, it was a nice change and you notice right away the era had changed you were pretty sure now it was the 70´s, you had already passed through that time years ago.

Days kept passing and Agatha tried to talk to you, she would always come to your house just to ask if you were doing fine, you weren’t sure how she had discovered where you lived but maybe she had just asked Wanda where was your house, of course Wanda knew where everyone was.

During her quick visits, sometimes she would give you little gifts, one day she gave you flowers, you still blushed at the memory, that day you couldn’t stop thinking about her, she looked so pretty with her straight hair you had seen her passed by your street riding her bike, you had been looking through the window thinking about how things were going on Westview and what had caught your attention had been the sound of the bell in her bike, when you saw her you smiled, whenever she was near you felt happiness but that was something you wouldn’t let her know.

After the first time she passed riding her bike in front of your house, then minutes later she passed through again and you laughed, you were sure she knew you were in the window, 10 minutes later again she passed again and this time she waved her hand at you just to disappear again on the other side of the street, you waited another 10 minutes because you thought she would pass again but this time she didn’t and you felt disappointed so you walked to your couch to take a nap or at least to try, but when you had placed yourself in the couch someone knocked on you door, you went to answer the door and this time you couldn’t hide your smile, Agatha was standing in your door with a bunch of flowers in her hands, you looked at them and they were so pretty.

“Hello angel, I was on my way to my house and I decided to bring you these, I hope you like them dear” Agatha handed the flowers to you and you took them, Agatha saw you biting your lower lip and she smiled too, little by little she was starting to see a change, she just wanted to make you smile and wanted to be near you, and this was what she started to do.

“Thank you seriously, you didn’t have to but I´m glad you brought this to me, they are really beautiful” You said while smiling, a genuine smile, for the first time you didn’t feel like hiding and Agatha was glad that she could finally see you smile.

“ I wanted to baby girl, now I have to go back to my house to make sure everything’s in order, see you later sweetheart” Your heart melted, you really liked when she called you like that.

You laughed at the memory of that time when you had gone into town to buy some things you needed, and how weirdly it had been that Agatha had bump into you, you couldn’t help the smirk in your face that day.

“Hey sweetheart isn´t amazing that we just met again? I didn’t know you were coming to the- uh, to the grocery store, I came here for some things as well, you know things to prepare dinner”

That day you walked side by side with her, you felt really comfortable around her and that day you realized how much you had fallen for her, how couldn’t you? She was so sweet, she treated you right and she was always making you laugh and just with her presence you didn’t feel the need to hide again, you really wanted to express to her how much you loved her, how much she had captivated you.

After that day full of quick glances towards each other, shy smiles and gentle brushes against each other you realized you loved her, a lot.

Agatha brushed her hand against your hand and even you could feel her fingers touching yours, it was such an innocent move that left you yearning for more and what made you feel happier was the fact that Agatha didn’t even buy a single thing, she just helped you put things into the shopping cart at the same time she said funny things that cracked you up, she had completely forgot to actually buy things, she had done it on purpose, the fact that she had bumped into you that day on purpose made you feel happy, she just had wanted to spend some time with you, and for the first time in your life you felt loved.

But the feeling didn’t last longer, when you said your goodbyes and you came back home, all the memories of the people you had loved, your mother, your sisters of the coven, your witch-friends, they all had abandoned you, they had forgotten about you, no one ever helped you, you had to learn to stand up for yourself because no one would have ever done it for you, you learned how to stay away from everyone because deep down you knew everyone would leave you.

You really wanted to be close to Agatha, you wanted to hug her and to kiss her, but what if she in the end just leaves you like the others? You wouldn’t be able to bare another heart break, you couldn’t and you wouldn’t, but the feeling of loneliness for centuries that had never gone away, it felt like it was coming back everything at the same time, you couldn’t bare it anymore, you wanted to be loved but at the same time you were just so afraid of the many what ifs.

It had been three days since Agatha and you had gone shopping together and since that day you didn’t dare to leave you room, you couldn’t control the way you were feeling you just wanted to cry, you wanted to yell to break things, finally someone showed interest in you and you kept pushing her away, you couldn’t help it the constant fear of being thrown away didn’t leave your mind, you were not happy being alone but it was the only thing you could do in order to protect yourself, you kept saying to yourself how good you were just in your own, but deep down you knew you craved for a hug or just a simple touch of hands, you wanted to hold Agatha´s hand you wanted to tell her everything but the fear you felt didn’t let you.

Agatha was worried about you; had she crossed the limits? She couldn’t guess but she was worried, you hadn’t left your house in three days in a row, and you usually went for a quick walk, it was not that she had been spying on you, well, maybe just a little, but she wanted to know if you were ok, she worried about you a lot, and she had fallen for you, she knew you were just broken and she wanted to help you fix the broken parts of your heart, she was just waiting to be sure that you were not afraid anymore, and she had thought that the shopping day had been the right path, Agatha thought that you were finally opening yourself a little, but now after three days of not knowing anything from you she couldn’t help but to be worried sick.

So of course she became worried sick when she hadn’t heard anything from you, the first day after the shopping, she waited for you at the sidewalk, she knew on Mondays you always went for a quick walk, but after 30 minutes of waiting she realized you were not coming, it was strange, maybe you were running late but after waiting 15 minutes more she decided to go home, she would look for you later.

Agatha started to walk towards her house when she saw Dottie walking to the direction, she was coming from

“Hey Agnes, when you see your girlfriend can you say hi to her for me? I really like her but now that she’s so smitten by you, the only person she talks to is you, Agnes I must say I’m kind of jealous, you’re a lucky woman Agnes, please say hi to her for me”

Agnes was dumbfounded, she was not expecting Dottie to say that to her, but at least she was happy that someone had said to her that she could draw your attention, with that she kept walking to her house with a big smile on her face, she couldn’t wait to tell you how she felt about you.

The second day she went to look at your house again, but the feeling that something was wrong took over her, she knocked on the door and you didn’t answer that was something strange, whenever she visited you, you didn’t make her wait too much, she stayed there for over twenty minutes more and even though she wanted to enter to make sure you were alright she didn’t dare to do it, what if you were mad at her? Or what if you thought she had crossed the limits? Frowning she decided it was better to leave, maybe think about what could had gone wrong between the two of you.

She wanted to see you so bad but now you were nowhere to be seen, no one had seen you left your house, of course Agatha asked the neighbors but they told her the same, that you hadn’t gone left your house.

The third day she felt something different in the air, she could sense something was wrong and of course she could sense your magic in it, she had to go look for you, there was something wrong she was right, leaving her house in a rush she almost ran to your house, this time she didn’t knock on you door, Agatha simply used her magic to open it and when she entered a hit of dark magic almost made her step back, it was strong, your magic was really strong.

Looking around your living room she didn’t see you in there and all the lights were off, the room was eerily silent, and for the first time in her long life, she was scared, scared that something had happen to you, quickly she went upstairs and in the middle of the stairs she notice something there.

Scrunching down a little she saw some type of vines, they were completely black, she followed the vine and they ended in a room and she supposed it was your room.

She took a deep breath preparing herself to enter, she reached for the doorknob and frowned a little, Agatha opened the door in a hasty movement, she had been preparing herself to fight whoever may be hurting you, but she had not prepared herself to see what was in front of her.

Inside the room there were many vines around your body, you couldn’t move and you had tears streaming down your cheeks, she gasped, you were trapped under your own magic, you were lying in the bed but the black vines were all over your body and some of them were even hanging on the walls and the ceiling, she wanted to cry, she couldn’t believe you were doing this to yourself, taking her hand to cover her mouth and walked towards you.

Agatha crouched down on the floor near your bed and she placed her hand on your forehead.

When she touched you she could feel all the sadness and sorrow you felt, all the pain that you had been hidden through all the years, all the loneliness and fear you were feeling all the time, it was too much pain and her heart clenched, you had passed through horrible things alone, now she understood why you were so afraid, you had been abandoned by everyone in your life, she wanted to help you, she would never leave you, she would never leave you alone.

Agatha used her magic on you, purple smoke covered your head, and she could see that it was working, slowly all the black vines started to disappear and the ones that you were trapped in disappeared after some minutes of her using her magic on you.

When you opened your eyes again you saw Agatha staring at you with a concerned look on her face, you felt the soft touch of her fingers in your temple, you were shocked, you had been trapped on your own memories that you didn’t notice your magic had reacted at your feelings, the vines were protecting you from the outside.

Blinking a few times, you stood from the bed to throw yourself at Agatha, you hugged her putting your arms around her neck, Agatha caught you and she placed her arms around your waist, now the two of you were on the floor, hugging each other.

You were sobbing you couldn’t contain the tears that kept coming from your eyes, you were in pain form all the things that happened to you, but at the same time you felt happy, Agatha had saved you from yourself, she cared for you and what she had done meant the world to you, while you were trapped in your memories, you could feel Agatha´s magic, helping you, her magic was calling you to wake up, and what you felt was love.

Agatha soothed you while you cried, she gently stroked your hair and she placed a kiss on your forehead, you were hiding your face in her chest and for the first time in many centuries you finally felt the warm feeling of a hug.

When you calmed yourself a little you separated yourself from Agatha to look at her eyes, oh how beautiful her blue eyes were, without thinking twice you leant and kissed her, she captured your lips on her own, and she kissed you back, it was a soft kiss, she wanted you to feel all the love she felt for you, Agatha pulled you closer to her, she wanted to feel you, she wouldn’t never leave you.

Breaking the kiss to look straight into her eyes, you smiled you wanted to say many things to her but you were lost for words, you opened your mouth but closed it again, you didn’t know how to start and before you could say something to her, Agatha lifted your chin and gave you a soft peck on your lips again.

“Oh angel, I just felt what you feel all the time and I caught glimpses of your memory, I know what you had been through and I´m really sorry that they were afraid of you, but please let me help you, if you let me, I will make sure to always be by your side, guide you and teach you about your magic, like anyone else have done it before, let me hold you and care for you, I promise to never leave you, please let me be in your life doll” You wanted to cry again, but this time out of happiness, everything she had told you was real, you could feel it, she was offering you what you had craved for a long time, you have never felt as happy as how you were feeling, Agatha could be your home, something you had been looking for a long time, and now this was your real chance, you could have it all with Agatha.

“I want to be with you, I have fallen for you quite deep, and what I feel for you is pure, I tried to push you away because I was scared but this time, I won´t make the same mistake” You rested your head on her chest again hearing the thumping of her heart, Agatha was amazed by you, she was mesmerized, she had never felt the urge to be with someone and now she just wanted you to be with her and she wanted to hold you so much, she would never hurt you and she would make sure that you always feel loved, kissing your forehead again she stroked you back with her hand.

“I know honey, and now you won´t need to push me away anymore, I will be with you and no matter what I will always be there for you, I want to make you happy and I will make sure to always show you how much I love you, you don´t have to hide anymore”

You felt safe in her arms and you knew this was the start of something beautiful, now you didn’t feel scared, for once in your life you felt brave enough to let someone love you and you were going to love her just as deeply as you knew she loved you.

You lifted your head an Agatha saw you had a beautiful and real smile on your face, she liked seeing the real you, now you wouldn’t need to hide your feelings, not anymore, you knew your feelings and you were safe with her, and she would never do something to hurt you, how lucky you really were, she couldn’t take all the memories again, but you were sure with time all these memories wouldn’t hurt as much, and with her help one day all the memories wouldn’t hurt and affect you anymore, finally you had found your home and your place in the world, and that place was with Agatha, finally you felt at peace, you were sure Agatha will make you fix the broken pieces of your heart, Agatha would never leave you, you wouldn’t have to be alone again.

[fairyhaos]

How To Fucking Write: a guide by fairyhaos

[masterlist]

this post details:

STARTING A STORY

PACING A STORY

hi gays and gals and welcome to "how to fucking write", a post (series) where i talk about how i brainstorm for writing, plan for writing, write the writing, and everything in between. nothing too serious here lmao, but i'm definitely planning on making at least a couple posts on this bc a) it's fun and b) i wanna help! so if you find this useful then pls lmk by reblogging + drop an ask if there are any specific things u want me to give my two cents on ^^

okok and now without further ado,,, let's look at the topics i'll talk about in today's post!

#1 - HOW TO START A STORY.

.. bullet point one : have an idea

the first big thing is that you need an idea. doesn't matter if you're a pantser and don't plan out your writing before you start. that's totally fine! but before you begin, you need at least an idea: maybe it's a vibe, a character personality, a specific journey you want the characters to go on. maybe it's a piece of dialogue. maybe it's the ending- the point you want to end up at after however many thousand words.

whatever it is, it's best to have some inspiration, some idea of what you wanna do. no point in writing if you don't know what you're writing, you know?

(of course, that brings up the issue of Having An Idea in the first place, but finding inspiration to write is a whole other can of worms we can open in another post.)

.. bullet point two : practice

okay, so now you have an idea. how do you put that idea to paper? how should you actually start your story?

it’s all to do with practice.

it’s the most annoying piece of advice in the world, but it helps so much. you just have to write lots and lots and lots, to find the way that works for you. whether you wanna start your stories with pretty scene descriptions, with dialogue, with dramatic one-liners. finding your voice, your style, what’s most comfortable for you, is really really important. and takes practice.

an example, though: for me, i prefer either a line of dialogue, or one-liners that a) help immediately establish a character’s personality or can b) introduce an interesting setting.

[chan + swingset] — one-liner example

[hoshi + silly] — dialogue example 

but of course, everyone’s style is different. so i’d recommend playing around! find a list of one-word prompts and just write a few that inspire you, writing the beginnings. it’s important, also, that you’re having fun, because if you’re already struggling with starting to write, it’ll be even harder if you’re doing it while feeling stressed.

.. bullet point three (mostly just for longer fics)

maybe you don’t find a style, in the end. maybe you’re comfortable with all of them, which is totally fine! but then you look at your writing, and you think, “oh… this isn’t as good as i thought.” 

and it makes you want to give up. what do you do, then? how do you carry on with your start?

just put words to paper. it doesn’t matter if the words are terrible, if you’re making up shit and using placeholders for description words or whatever. just carry on, get to a place you’re happy with, like the end of a scene, or maybe a dialogue exchange you really like.

because now, guess what? you’ve successfully created a first draft.

making first drafts is actually so important. seriously. first drafts allow you to fuck up, allow you to write terribly. they help you fumble and trip your way to the finish line (or at least a rest point) so that you can go back and do better.

even if your first draft is terrible, it’s helped you make your way to a point you’re happy with. now you have a vague idea of what you want, even if the description or characterisation or something is way off. because now, you can edit it, or even scrap it and use only a few words from that draft in your next one. or maybe, if you look back at it, maybe it’s even decent enough for you to use. 

whatever it is, when you first start writing that story, think of it as ‘The Worst Draft’. because it probably won’t be as good as you want it, and it’s okay. just write, with no fears of it being bad, because that’s literally fine. it’s not set in stone. the backspace button exists. after your first draft is made, make another. and another, and another, because i promise, after that first draft, it only gets better from there.

#2 - PACING A STORY.

.. bullet point one : adding things

pacing is always really tricky. however, i do think that slowing a story down is easier than speeding it up, so here we go,,,,

finding out the exact way to slow down a story really depends on what type of story you're writing, but there are a few all-round things you can do which can help pretty much any setting.

if it's a scene with loads of dialogue, and things feel like they're jumping to the end topic too quickly, add descriptions. your readers are blind, writers, and they depend on you to be able to see what's going on. are your characters having a conversation on the street? take a break to describe what they see. are they in a coffee shop? maybe someone comes in with a huge noise, or their coffee arrives at their table. are they hanging in midair with nothing around them? well, describe the actions of the character they're talking to, then.

example: (from my seoksoo fic bc it's the only long fic i'm working on rn)

by adding character descriptions, movement, thoughts, instantly everything seems to have slowed down. it thickens time, allowing you to move at a more leisurely pace.

if it's a scene full of action, you can do the exact same thing. maybe there's a high-tension moment and something significant happens. slow down time there, describe something small in great detail. talk about the thoughts they're having.

and even if it's just an ordinary scene, describing is important. the setting, the characters' actions, their thoughts. it's okay to write too much. then you can delete things which make things feel like they're moving too slowly.

.. bullet point two : delete

not gonna lie, finding out how to speed up the pacing of the story can often be really specifically tailored to the setting of the story.

with stories that have loads of action (spy, apocalypse, etc) i'd recommend adjusting sentence length. you'll want short, punchy sentences, without loads of commas and clauses, but you'll also want to experiment with having those short sentences gradually get longer. it helps with tension and suspense.

it has to be short. running fast. something to elevate fear. quick, but also desperate, before they then spill over each other, picking up pace, all of the thoughts blurring together and going faster, and faster, and faster, and then-

then the penny drops.

people use the metaphor of music a lot, and it really does work that way. it needs to ascend to its climax: gently, cautiously, before sprinting upwards and only describing things like the barest emotions (the fear they feel, the panic, anger, anything) before everything reaches its peak and comes crashing down in a flurry of action descriptions.

but of course, the easiest way to speed up something is to delete. delete swathes of setting description. delete unnecessary dialogue. delete an entire scene and rewrite with only the things you remember (which can help make sure you only have the essentials in your scene, btw. very helpful).

it might take a bit of adjusting, rewriting, moving things around, but ultimately, quickening the pace of the story depends on the way in which you write things. be concise, be dramatic, and don't dawdle.

... and that's it ! if anyone has anything else they want advice on (how to structure, how to write dialogue, how to plan etc) then just shoot me an ask, because i'd love to help however i can :)

tagging: @selenicives who asked for this in the first place hehe ^^

[bethanydelleman]

I saw a post you reblogged at some point about Fanny being stuck in a time loop and it got me thinking: if the main men (both protagonists and antagonists) of the different Austen novels time travelled back to the day they first met their love interest/the start of the novel - whichever is latest so wentworth, knightley, and Edmund Bertram would travel to the day the main events of their novels start - who do you think would end up changing the least of the events and the most (intentionally or not)?

Because I feel like Knightley would change the least and Henry Tilney and the three S&S gents would come next. But like Wentworth would immediately throw the entire novel off track and like Darcy and Henry Crawford would come in close second trying to change their truly awful first impressions

(Also I just want to add that I really love your Austen takes and discussions 😊)

Thank you!

This is a fascinating idea. Here are my thoughts:

Wentworth just marches into Uppercross Cottage and proposes again. Doesn't even wait to be properly introduced to the family. He's getting Anne back NOW. (She says yes, of course)

I can imagine Darcy having a tiny little crisis as he decides if he really wants to be married to Elizabeth, maybe he could just not accompany Bingley to Netherfield and his life could go the way he planned... nah, he can't resist. Off to Netherfield he goes and he lets Bingley introduce him to Elizabeth at the assembly ball. Things progress unimpeded and by Christmas there is a double wedding and Wickham's character is known throughout Hertfordshire. He skips town and Lydia is packed off to Pemberley to benefit from some better society. (Side note: Mrs. Bennet would push Mr. Collins on Mary if she had any inclination that Darcy liked Elizabeth).

If Bingley knew everything, he'd never leave Jane. He'd return from London and marry her, no matter what Darcy or his sisters said. (I wrote that once actually)

Does Wickham count as a main? Because I don't want him having the ability to predict the future. Yikes on bikes!

Henry Crawford is very interesting, because does he actually understand where he went wrong? I'm not sure he does. Can he resist a flirtation with two very pretty sisters? That would be a fun fan fiction to write. Because if he went for Fanny right off the bat and she knew nothing else about him... he'd probably succeed with her, secret Edmund love or not. And she certainly wouldn't have a leg to stand on in refusing his proposal.

Does Edmund come back in the same timeline as Henry? That would be so agnsty! If not, he'd probably be doing whatever he could to keep Maria and Henry apart, but he's shockingly ineffective in canon, so would he even be able to change anything?

Henry Tilney would probably just try to prevent Catherine being sent home alone. He could easily come back early.

Mr. Knightley's best move would be to tell Robert Martin to propose in person. I doubt Harriet could have resisted. Then he could just sit back and watch everything else play out.

Honestly, I don't know if Frank Churchill would change a thing, other than making sure his final letter was posted to Jane. He enjoyed the subterfuge.

Poor Edward Ferrars has to travel back while engaged to Lucy? I feel like he wouldn't even want to relive the novel, there is nothing he can do anyway.

Colonel Brandon would probably change a lot. He could immediately save Eliza and challenge Willoughby. He might even spare Marianne from a lot of pain.

Reginald de Courcy (Lady Susan) would likely act as well and save Frederica earlier than in the novel.

[moghedien]

So someone is in your inbox asking for money

I'm not going to say that every single instance of this happening is a scam, but in my experience, random people following you and then sending you an ask to ask you to reblog a post or donate, they are almost always a scam.

You may feel bad about ignoring them or deleting the ask, but doing so is probably going to be the best course of action. Not only so that YOU don't lose money but so that you don't give the scammer access to you followers.

But how could you know that the person is a scam and not the one instance where someone really needs help? Let's go over some ways to check for signs of a scammer.

this is the post I got in my inbox today. I've personally never dealt with this particular version, so I didn't immediately delete. I probably wouldn't have reblogged anyway, but I wanted to look into this specifically.

The first thing to do is go on their blog. In this instance, the post they want me to reblog is pinned, and it also has a donation link. I'm NOT going to click on the link because there is no indication at all to what this might lead to and I'm going to instead hover over link and see what url pops up

in this instance, the url shows me that I'm going to be redirected to paypal. IMMEDIATELY a sign that this is a scam. people can still scam with gofundme and other sites like that, sure, but at least with those sites, there is some accountability in that you can see if the donation goal is being met or not. with paypal, you're just blindly donating, assuming that this donation amounts are what the person says they're at.

And also this is not to say that honest people can't use paypal for donations, sometimes that's the only option. But if you're going to donate to someone via paypal, you should at the very least be personally aware of who you're donating to and that they are an actual person.

But let's look deeper just in case. The next thing to do is look for other sketchy signs on the blog. So I scrolled through to see what they were blogging about otherwise, and there were red flags here.

Just glancing through the blog, I could see that they almost exclusively posted about Taylor Swift and the Mandalorian. They posted A LOT within the past day (this is why you should have times enabled btw) and exclusively from the same four or fives blogs.

But maybe they just post a lot. You can actually very easily see their posting habits by looking at their archive.

We're going to go to the three dots and click "view archive"

You can also just type in "[username].tumblr.com/archive" for any blog and access anyone's archive as long as they have a public account. But what's the point of doing that. Well, in the archive, we can get a very quick overview of someone's posting habits.

And here I've circled in red the first and last thing this blog has posted in the month of February 2024 (the month I'm writing this). You can see that both of those posts were posted on the same day. Meaning all of their posts in the entire month of February happened on the same day.

But what about posts outside of February 2024?

Well there are none

You can sort posts by month and year and doing so for this blog shows that they ONLY posted in February 2024 and ONLY one day in February and it happened to be the day before I got an ask in my inbox asking for donations.

These are the most obvious tells, but there are other signs you can look out for.

For instance, all of their posts are without any sort of tags. They never comment on anything and their only original post was their one asking for donations. If you click on the search function in their blog, nothing comes up

There's also the fact that the blog is clearly targeting at making the people who WOULD care about someone needing insulin sympathetic. The fact that they use BLM, identify as a black man, have pronouns in their bio all are on purpose to make people who might care feel like this is a person who deserves help. the scammer is using your empathy against you. DON'T LET THEM. Be smart and always always think before you act, even if that action is just posting. You can help people in need without feeding the vultures that want to take advantage and want to use YOU to steal from your community

But let's just be REALLY REALLY sure this is a scam.

On whim, I copied the text straight from the ask in my inbox and put into google and then added "tumblr' at the end. You'll be shocked to know there were immediate results and not from this blog

First one was a reblog from over a year ago. the exact same wording minus the cost of the insulin and the call to action at the end

I clicked on the original poster for this and the blog was cleared out!

Minus them using the exact same photograph in their header as the blog that sent me an ask today, of course.

The second instance I found was slightly different wording, but using similar enough wording that it can be assumed came from the same scammer. This came from another ask in an inbox, but the receiver rightly called them out as a scam. The post is from two months ago and the blog that asked it as been deleted outright

All of this to say, there are always scammers on tumblr, but there have been a lot recently. This one happened to not be posing as Palestinians in need, but a lot are (in that instance, Palestinian bloggers have been vetting who is and isn't real so you can always check to see if they're getting support or getting called out from actual Palestinians). They won't always use these methods and won't always been this obvious, so even if you don't donate to someone yourself ALWAYS be thorough in your checking before you reblog a donation post. Make sure the charity its collecting for is REAL and if its a person asking for money, make sure that person is real as well.

You can help people without getting scammed or giving scammers access to your followers, and not reblogging every donation post doesn't make you a bad person or mean you don't care. Its important to be careful, and not being careful can do more harm than good. it makes actual people in need look sketchy and takes away resources that could have been given to them. So if you aren't sure if something is real DO NOT REBLOG IT

[snuggerudsz]

PAPER RINGS I LH43

summary: young love, from meeting at a party to realizing they were forever. inspired by "paper rings".

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

author's note: this wasn't planned at all, but i couldn't move on from luke's instagram post so i wrote this. likes and reblogs are always welcomed. hope you enjoy!!

The moon is high

Like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

Now I've read all of the books beside your bed

(Y/N) had never been the party type, but when her friends showed up in her dorm and pretty much dragged the girl out and into one of the infamous hockey team’s parties, there was very little to do other than enjoy herself a bit ー or try, at least.

Novembers in Michigan are always cold, so the young girl was clad in jeans and a sweater, bobbing her head to loud music while looking around, waiting for time to pass as quickly as possible, when she saw him.

(Y/N) was never the type to believe in love at first sight, but when she and Luke Hughes locked eyes the world stopped. All that was left was her and him, staring at each other. There was nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts. The earth stopped spinning and there was only Luke. And from the second she saw him, she knew it would be impossible for her to ever forget his striking eyes and the way they lingered a moment too long on hers. And when he laughed at something one of his friends said ー probably something dumb and stupid, those boys were higher than the moon that night, ーshe knew she was in trouble. 

The girl went home and stalked him on all of his social media accounts, she went down the Hughes’ rabbit hole quickly, reaching his mom’s Facebook page, and looking at pictures of a pre-teen Luke and his older brothers, watching every video available on the internet, learning everything she could about the boy. 

The next time (Y/N) saw Luke it was at another hockey team party. This time, she walked up to him and introduced herself. And, they talked for hours, completely losing track of time. The girl spend the entirety of the night doing everything to make him laugh so she could hear it again. She wished she could have it playing on repeat because God knows it’s better than any song she’s ever heard.

The wine is cold

Like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

Cat and mouse for a month or two or three

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

It’s late. Luke knows it’s late. But he can’t help and look at her, he’d watch his girl sleep all night long if he could. (Y/N) has her head on his chest, peacefully sleeping. But she can feel his eyes on her and she thinks it is the most beautiful thing in the whole world. The girl sees him through her squinted eyes. 

“I know you’re up,” Luke says, in a somewhat raspy voice because of the lack of use.

The girl opens her eyes, lifting her head and resting her chin on his sternum.

“Hey, sweet girl”, he says, staring lovingly at her sleepy face, “you’re so pretty it should be a crime.” Luke finishes, a huge, goofy smile taking over his face.

“Says you,” (Y/N) scoffs in a joking manner, while a subtle blush consumes her cheeks, “my pretty pretty boy,” she mumbles, “the prettiest of boys,” the girl says, yawning.

Luke softly kisses her forehead, then her cheek. The pair look at each other, staring sheepishly into each other’s eyes. The boy reaches down to tuck a strand of hair behind the girl’s ear and places his hand on the side of her cheek. Luke pulls her close and kisses her slowly, one of his hands cupping her cheek and stroking it with his thumb; his other hand was running through her hair. Both of their heartbeats merged with each other, he can taste forever on her lips and his thoughts race as if this is his last moment, and he’s thinking that he never felt so alive. 

He has kissed before, but it didn’t feel like this.

He has kissed before, but it didn’t burn him alive.

Maybe it lasts a minute, maybe it’s an hour, it might even have lasted a lifetime. All Luke thinks about is the kiss, and her soft skin brushing against his, and even if he didn’t know it until now, he has been waiting for her forever.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings Uh huh, that's right Darling, you're the one I want

[jods-duplicitous-sluts]

Alecto the Ninth News

Part One

Alright friends. We are all chomping at the bit for any Alecto news at all. So here is what I've compiled from interviews, podcasts and AMAs. Sources are linked and screenshots have alt. text.

I've also included a little commentary or speculation on some points but ultimately that's not the focus of this collection.

Under the cut because I feel like it's going to get long.

So many screenshots, it turns out I'll have to split it into 3 posts.

If you enjoy this post please reblog so more people can see it!

Jump to part ■ Two of the post

Jump to part ■ Three of the post

I'm making this post on mobile, so forgive any wonkiness. Also tumblr ate this post once already *screams into the void*

• The book starts with Harrow in Hell. A reference to the Harrowing of Hell. Based on the presence of a porn mag I'd guess it's her own little river bubble inside Alecto but still just speculation.

Source: Tamsyn reads to us! Video with written description

• There is a wedding of some sort. Possibly other excuses to dress up the characters in formal ware. Some people have expressed concern that this was referencing the N- and C- wedding in Nona, but nope. We have confirmation that it is in book 4.

Source: Twitter

The next series of screenshots are all from the same tor.com interview: TM on Lyctorhood and Genderfuckery.

• This first one again confirms allusions to the harrowing of hell/ the decent of Christ. For those out of the loop the tldr:

The harrowing of hell is an Old English and Middle English term referring to the period of time between the Crucifixion of Jesus and his resurrection. In triumphant descent, Christ brought salvation to the souls held captive there since the beginning of the world.

A lot of speculation has gone on around about Harrow and her role in freeing the souls trapped in the river/reviving the river from whatever is poisoning it. [ *cough*JOD*cough*].

Also another reference towards formal outfits for the cast. So at least the wedding if not multiple formal functions.

• The question of Harrow and Gideon's souls will continue into Alecto. Looking forward to info on how enmeshed they've become and/or if they can be separated.

• I mean this quote is infamous by now. Which of our faves is it in reference to? All of them?

•I feel like we haven't seen enough about the differences between rebirth [a la Paul and Nona] vs Resurrection [Gideon/Harrow?! Someone else?] So while not a direct promise of anything in Alecto, I feel like the implication is there.

•The next two screenshots are about the Alecto cover, which is complete[the first from the above interview:]

•and the second is from an AMA from Aug. 5 2020

• The cover is definitely done since she was talking about it in 2020 and reaffirmed right before Nona’s release. I feel like they are waiting until they have a better idea of a publishing date before release. Maybe we'll get news in Q4 after the Nona paperback release and excitement dies down?

• From the same 2020 AMA. As this is pre-Nona, it could be possible that the heist mentioned deals with Gideon's body [either the Houses heisting it from BOE which happened off screen or the heist of Gideon's body from the barracks]. But I included it just in case that isn't what is being referenced.

• Same 2020 AMA: Again this could be covered in Nona as being what the John chapters were about, but also maybe not.

Source: TazMuir tumblr post from April 2020

• Another infamous quote at this point. Definitely feels like this is about the 'Third Most Toxic Polycule' of Harrow/Gideon/Ianthe and maybe Alecto is in this loop as well. With all the references to weddings and relationships I'm wondering who out of these four is marrying who...[maybe it's someone totally different, but my money is on someone in this situation]

Click to see part two!

[halfratsalready]

Help me figure out what fic to write next! ✨

I feel like I’m in a weird limbo after finishing the first arc of the Lose Yourself series and I have a few ideas floating around in my head for what to write next (after the Wanderrose fic exchange, at least), but I have no clue which one to focus on.

So if you happen to like my silly little stories and want a say in what my next fic is, I’ve got some ideas and a poll below the cut! 💕

Idea I: Dark & Angsty Murder Mystery 🔪

I've discussed this one on here before so it might sound slightly familiar, but this would basically be Angst: The Fanfic. If you thought any of the Lose Yourself series was angsty, this fic is probably 10x worse. Part of me worries it's a little bit too dark to be a Just Dance fic. Multiple murders (though not described in detail), an intense attempted murder (that is described in relative detail), and some of that patented Night Swan mind control, plus some supernatural elements later on. But also a sizeable portion of it is Brezziana and Disocball playing detective and trying to solve a rash of murders, which should be very fun, in a weird and kinda dark sorta way.

Wanderrose ft. best friends Jack & Brezziana. Also featuring Discoball, Sara, Mihaly, Mothigan, Cygnus, Felicia, Boss Witch, Si'Ha Nova, and Agent D

I have the first chapter and a half written of this one already. It would be 9 chapters total.

Idea II: Angsty Jack-Centric Post-JD24 Fic 🥀

This is an idea I've had for a while but haven't really gotten around to properly outlining. This is based on my theory of sorts that Night Swan exploited the wrong weakness when targeting Jack in Dance With the Swan, where she realizes after the events of JD24 that she hadn't done it right and approaches it from a different angle. Basically just a lot of Jack-centric angst, a lot of Night Swan & Jack interactions, and a world where Treasure Jack may or may not actually become more than just an illusion...

A lot of Night Swan & Jack but definitely featuring at least some Wanderrose. Also featuring the Just Dancers, Si'Ha Nova, and the Traveler, and maybe some others.

I haven't even outlined this one yet, so I have no idea how long it would be.

Idea III: Significantly Less Angsty & More Random Self-Indulgent AU (Actually a "Silly Little" Fic This Time, For the Most Part, at Least) ✨

I've been toying with the idea lately of an AU where Leda and Sara were sisters on earth and Sara has been searching for her sister. I think it would be fun to do some intentional canon divergence (and not just have my fics' canon be derailed by a new event). There's a few directions I've considered taking this in, including Jack ending up on earth (there's like two or three ways for that one to happen and like two or three directions I could take it in) or Sara's adventures in the Danceverses just going really differently.

Still a lot I'm not sure about with this one but it's been bouncing around my head since Night Swan: The Prequel dropped, so here we are. Definitely would have Wanderrose cuz they own my heart.

The Poll

I have no idea which idea I really wanna commit to following through on first. Every time I think I'm leaning towards one, I end up leaning towards another. So I'm throwing these out there in the hopes that a few of you will be able to help me out with your opinion!

If you wanna share your thoughts in the comments or reblogs also, I’d love to hear what you have to say, so I don’t have to wait the whole week for the poll to finish to be able to see which idea(s) is/are getting the most interest!

[jorisjurgen]

World of Twelve dashboard simulator

🎆 halfalight follow

I think if I get knocked out while solo'ing dungeons oen more time local eniripsas will just euthanise me 😭 iop save me

🫂 shards-of-glass-in-the-bar follow

we all have that homie who's not gonna make it.

🎆 halfalight follow

You run an anti-recovery alcoholism blog tho ???

🫂 shards-of-glass-in-the-bar follow

way to be classphobic dipshit.

🐙 podapoda-2-3 follow

Idk i feel like posting about losing your home bc of it isn't very successful and happy pandawa of you.

🤹 mysteryrystery follow

Anyone in this thread smoke hemp

(1,275 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

Like a sworn knight, I serve you. You are my beating heart, my lifeline. Neither Bonta nor Astrub would be home, if you were not by my side...

Yet, why do my hands yearn for freedom, the way a butcher yearns for a wild animal?

🌛 quartziwindy follow

Are you ok op.

🕸️ osamodas-loves-spiders follow

isnt op that one guy with 50 side blogs who got accused of being a part of the bontarian royalty and classfaking being an ecaflip.

🌌 somethingquietplace

Do you swear on your heart that you can truly believe a person with a life and a career would post on this site.

#Mind your buisiness. #not osu

(12,643 notes)

🥧 amakna-news-official follow

does anyone know if the demigod goultard is still out there marrying people//...

i n;;eed h;im.

🍄 124-lancer-lancer follow

When you die and go to externam not even being hosed down will help clean your soul. You will not reincarnate for 999 years.

🆎 alphabetcounter follow

e: 13; n: 11; o: 11; l: 7; a: 6; r: 6; i: 5; t: 5; u: 4; d: 4; 9: 3; h: 3; y: 4; s: 3; w: 4; g: 2; c: 2; x: 1; m: 1; v: 1; b: 1; p: 1; f: 1

(489 notes)

🌌 somethingquietplace

Went on a fishing trip with my family.

Here are some photos I took there, including photos of the snappers the three of us caught. Sufokia is beautiful this time of the year.

　　　　　　　　Keep reading

🌌 somethingquietplace

I'll delete this reblog a bit later for organization purposes, but I wanted to take this moment to thank you all for your comments.

Also, I did not know that there was a fishing community here, for all the decades I spent on this site. The more you know.

#It's nice to get back in the groove of things... #Such a hectic year. #I just need some peace and quiet. #And maybe then I'll feel better. #Though sometimes I do ask why I keep doing this. Just everything in general. #...A hot chocolate will fix me right up though. Always does. #Delete later

(201 notes)

🔰 noobdefencesquad follow

I know most ppl are like..,, 100% over talking about that one fuckin xelor that reversed time for like 20 minutes. like yeah hes evil but he saved my whole life. i spilled coffee on my passport and then WHOOM time reversed and shit. and i woke up 20 minutes earlier, threw up, and decided not to go anywhere near my documents with liquids ever again.

can i get a wahoo for grandpa genocide. like he really fucked up but he did do a solid one to at least me. i just feel like enough years had passed for me to speak my truth

🌒 ten-o-cock-and-a-half follow

It's not a laughing matter, people died. And it was a yet another case of media representing xelors as crazy and evil.

Try to put yourself in the mindset of the victims.

🔰 noobdefencesquad follow

im a xelor too and i think this is fucking hilarious soo yeah.

try reincarnating into a different class in next life! hope this helps.

🌛 quartziwindy follow

I agree with the second rb, but is nobody going to mention their url??

(1,274 notes)

👾 pixiiiii-piratika follow

I know we all have our role models for adventurers we'd like to marry or become or steal the gender of or whatever, but idk it haunts me that some of them may be on this site. Imagine someone like master Eva reading what ppl had written about her or her husband. scary.

🎁 doggrillsougi follow

I hope ush galash can feel when i post about sending him psionic shadow assassins. i hope he fucking feels pain. Every single time.

🎶 foggy-has-no-spoons follow

what did a random bontarian noble do to you. also isn't he dead.

🎁 doggrillsougi follow

OK SO. this made me realize that most people genuinely don't know about the murder dungeon allegations.

To summ it up, he lured in people to rob his house, put them in The Murder Dungeon (actually a tower, but... rule of funny. it sounds funnier that way), and Bontarian government did NOTHING about for years, and even placed a statue in his honor despite that.

wo2ww.bontanews.bn/articles/ush-galesh-allegations-of....

Now, this might sound like a conspiracy theory, but most of us in the demigod drama community know that Ecaflip demigods just... fake their deaths a lot. So there's a very big chance he's still out there. He's fucking out there.

And I want him to know, that I am sending psionic brain warriors to him. And to the king too.

THE ONLY reason this turned into a thing everyone knows is due to an anonymous leaker from within the palace. I fucking hate this kingdom.

🌹 theflowerofsadida follow

The city of good, btw

yet another reason i am a proud brakmarian despite not liking djaul LOL

🐙 podapoda-2-3 follow

WHAT????? HE HAD A WHAT ..

👾 pixiiiii-piratika follow

oh god what happened to my post.

🌛 quartziwindy follow

there are like, theories on who leaked it btw, considering a bunch of diplomats had access to the documents. Though I won't point any fingers towards anyone in the palace in particular. 👀

if it would keep him doing this, I could kiss that guy who did this, on the lips, I would. or like, give him a pizzlarva.

fr fr.

🌌 somethingquietplace

It's every Bontarian's civil duty to try and make the city a little bit better. I think these motivations are both unneeded and unwanted.

Though the pizzlarva bit is funny.

👾 pixiiiii-piratika follow

arent you that one guy with whos been here for like 20 years and got accused of being a part of the bontarian royalty and classfaking being an ecaflip.

did you do this tumblr user somethingquietplace. did you.

🌌 somethingquietplace

I'm running a combination OSU, photography, and fishing blog where I post poorly written poetry at 4AM.

Please stop with the "you're never beating the allegations" jokes.

#not osu

(85,024 notes)

[ladykailitha]

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

My only problem is that I tend to file name what the title is so I can find it easier, so...here’s what they were called before I titled them.

"File" Names

Omega Escort Steve

History Nerd Steve

Soulmate AU

Steve is in a Metal Band

Boy w/a Bat Book 2

Snippet

I had a hard time choosing because I wrote a lot over the weekend and finished up a few chapters.

“There are a couple other things I just need to go over with you,” she said, “and then you’re all good to go.”

Steve nodded.

“He wants to pay for you to play at being his boyfriend until after the rut servicing,” Robin said.

Steve’s eyebrows went up. “And management is okay with that?”

He had done the boyfriend thing a few times but never with someone as high profile as Eddie Munson.

“According to the notes on the request his new management and Starcourt went over all the details and it’s going to be great publicity for both the band and us.”

Steve frowned, rearing back his head in confusion. “New management? What happened to his old management?”

“Do you remember the creepy gang bang?” Robins asked with a blush.

Steve’s frown deepened. “Yeah, of course. The band was pissed and fired their management...” he said trailing off. “Holy shit!”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Their new manager is Benny Hammond. I can’t imagine what dealing with the other guy would have been like.”

****

Hello and welcome back to my favorite day of the week. I took werewolf Steve off this week because it's getting super spoilery again. Maybe next week.

But we still have a lot of people's favorites this week, including three of mine.

Steve is a History Nerd and Omega Steve might be nearing a close, just a heads up.

I'm back to a decent backlog again with at least three chapters deep for most of the stories.

Again the rules are go nuts, have fun, send in as many asks as you want.

It runs from 8am-11pm EST.

[ripaxel-mkulia-double-date]

Hi to all my fans

You see this guy? Do you know him?

You might not as he only appeared in one episode physically (169 episodes including Ridonculous Race, 143 excluding Ridonculous Race, and that's not even including DRAMARAMA, the point is he's not even appeared in 1% of all total drama episodes ever made since the show aired in 2007) but this guy is called Beardo

I don't see many posts about Beardo which makes sense as he appeared in less than 1% of all total drama franchise episodes however I'd like to get some Beardo love going!

He has a really cool design

He's great at making sound effect noises

He doesn't speak until his elimination because he's shy

Fun fact he's appeared the least out of anyone in total drama ever with just one episode

He first appeared on our English TV screens on July 7th 2014. That means he'll be ten total drama years old this July!

He is based off Reggie Watts in appearance

His name is actually pronounced "bee air dough" but most characters call him "beard-o"

I really encourage you all to like if you like Beardo, and maybe reblog or reply some Beardo love so we can spread some positivity around this underrated character

Where were you when you first saw Beardo?

Do you want Beardo to come back?

Should he have been first boot?

What if Beardo survived the first elimination and opened up to people?

What if Beardo was brought back for the pahkitew island finale?

These are just some great questions to think about

Did you know? This post took me three minutes to make. Three minutes and I can't stop thinking about Beardo! By just taking 3 minutes of your day to think about an underrated character in the total drama show, you can start to develop a new appreciation for a character and hopefully spread the awareness of said character (in this case Beardo)

I bet Beardo really likes to bake and his favourite thing to make is a loafcake 😊 what headcanons do you have for this camper?

Well, that's all from me. Until next time,

Glen

[the-s1lly-corner]

admin live reaction to the 2003 TCM movie lets gooooooo going to be one full post rather than a series of reblogs so i dont clog the blog

so like was there ever a reason for changing the family name in this reboot or was it just becaue

i never really thought about it but im quickly starting to realize how different horror was back then as opposed to the 2000s and to now- like obviously things change and evolve but like. tone and style so far feels different

3 miinutes in and theyre getting FREAKY hello!!!!

maybe im the weird one but how the hell can someone be so comfortable getting THAT into a makeout session in the company of friends- like a kiss is fine but these two are literally moaning and fondling each other in the backseat

oh theyre not even friends one of them literally just joined the group

WHYYYYY are you kissing your girlfriend while driving god i hate distracted drivers im glad this is a slasher movie

COOCHIE GUN?

oh!

i know im only 13 minutes in but i do not enjoy this group the group from the og had more charm to me idk

i do not trust this old ass woman

unrelated but i looooooooooove cabin in the woods but i hate that it pointed out the "character types" you see in slasher movies because now im hyper aware of which character is gonna die and which one isnt before any slashing happens

A OPOSSUM :3 YIPEE

whos punk ass kid

can i pet the daaaaaawwwg

sheriffs got some fatass eyebrows god DAMN

random ass pigs in the house??

oh! the sheriffs a creep! i mean obligatory "its a slasher film theres always at least one creep" but like. you know

morgans easily the most annoying of the bunch though

obligatory "hes already been on screen" but this is our first full body shot but woo yeah leatherface mr thomas hewitt let me see why a bunch of people keep requesting you

epvfpmpfvmf the nails on the wall ripping off.. euuuchh... 10/10

this version of leatherface (or really the whole movie) feels waaaaay more brutal than the og and idk how to fell- maybe im biased because i fell in love with the og but i kind of prefer it, but i can see why people may like this remake more

chat can we kill the sheriff

*shoots multiple shots from a gun right next to their head* "you girls need to get yourselves under control!" chat i hate this man so much. like even without the "we know this group is innocent" knowledge id still be hating this dude. so so bad

"i aint never seen no weapon go off without somebodys finger on the trigger" dude how many fucking times do they have to say that she shot herself god damn. like i KNOW logically its because "oh he found a body and drugs, and one of the people is missing" blah blah blah and thats the thought process and thats not something to be treated gently but like. this just feels... too far? like literally making someone sit where someone committed and then making them put that same weapon in their mouth feels like its going waaaaaaay too far

"we got ourselves a killer!" and then its just a group of people scared out of their mind, one just got chased by a dude with a chainsaw and the other is getting his shit pressed and all three nearly got shot in the head ofc someone is not going to think rationally of course theyre going to want anything to get out. that doesnt automatically mean they killed the girl. curse of knowledge for knowing what happened curse of knowing the sheriff doesnt know raaaah raaaaaah divine death blast i still hate this dude so so much oh my god

actually pausing the movie to take a few minutes because the sheriff is pissing me off so much LMAO

hitting the sheriff with another death ray for drinking and driving god if theres anything i hate more than distracted drivers its intoxicated ones. "but hes not drunk" and he still shouldnt be drinking

"so what are you going to do with your tickets" "you can have them" "is that bribery!!! *smashes a glass bottle on the dudes head*" oh my fucking goooooooooood leatherface can you get this bitch.. i havent hated a character this much since carmody from the mist

SLUR MENTIONED/j

the tire flies off as they finally get the car to work be so fucking for real

OH AND HES WEARING THE BFS FACE TOO THATS MESSED UP (i love it)

the tea was drugged wasnt it

chat i deadass have no idea whats going on

I KNEW NOT TO TRUST GAS STATION LADY I KNEW SHE DIDNT ACTUALLY CALL THE SHERIFF I FUCKING KNEW IT

also like... so is it more than brothers this time? og was just them plus grandpa but it looks like theres more here- also baby snatching? hello? also are they still cannibals?

they got bros dogs on the piano

i would like to apologize for calling the kid a punk

maybe its sympathy but maybe morgan isnt so bad i think i just didnt vibe with the group when they were first being introduced. perhaps. i was too harsh

morgan has some balls i think hes my favorite out of the group- blode dude is also cool but i forgot his name.. tbh im starting to enjoy the entire group asides the boyfriend but tbf he got yoinked early

oh hey... thomas cut his leg... just like... side eyes

girl you are hiding in the lockers, hes walked past you. why are you screaming

lmao nvm i forgot she grabbed the cleaver but like wwwhhhhhhyyyyy not just sneak him

oh just casually chopped his arm off with a few swings

also why not just aim for the head? i know "shes freaking out, logic is out the window" but like ?Q?Q???!!?!?

TRUCK DRIVER!?!! JUST LIKE side eyes WOOOO MAMA

theres 10 minutes left of the movie i do not trust the truck driver

MIRRORING THE WOMAN FROM THE BEGINNING?

ok nvm the truck drivers just a dude

OOOOOHOOOOHOOOO THE CAR HOT WIRE BIT WAS SUCH A GOOD TWIST

YEEEEEEEAH YEAH RUN HIM OVER AGAIN YEEEEAAAAAAH

AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!

i give this movie a 7 out of 10! i liked it, but not as much as the og- horror wise i think it hit better, style wise i personally prefer the og but i can understand why many would find this version appealing!

[gingerylangylang1979]

Another fanfic rant

People are really demanding of fanfic writers. I just read someone complaining about there not being enough The Bear fanfic, what they read is out of character, Carmy and Syd are written straight, blah, blah. 

People can write the characters how they want. We aren’t trying to reproduce the canon show. If we were it wouldn’t be fanfic. I can’t write like the actual screenwriters. Some people try to write close to canon characterization, others don’t. This comment is also contradictory because canon Carmy and Syd aren’t written as not being straight, at least up to this point. So how is fanfic written with them straight out of character? And there are fics with both written as queer, so that’s not even true. Viewers can’t even agree on character interpretation of canon, so how are fanfic writers supposed to “get it right” when it’s all open to interpretation? I literally just read a post from someone who didn’t get that Jon Bernthal is Mikey???!!! Anyways, people can write them however they like. Have people never heard of the terms head canon, reinterpretation, and AU? 

People need to write themselves or stop complaining. 

Also, you know what, the time and effort, I’ll say again, is only partially rewarded. I bet most of the complainers don’t bother to comment, give kudos, or share works they do like. Heck, I leave positive comments and kudos even if I wasn’t thrilled with a story. There is always something good to highlight and gives encouragement. 

I’ve written 17 chapters so far and have three to go. I am at a bit of a standstill. Why? I don’t always want to be writing. I write a lot for work and have other creative projects. Sometimes I want to just fangirl on Tumblr, which takes way less effort than constructing narrative. I also have a full life outside of fandom. I’m pretty social and have friendships to maintain and places to go. I may not get a lot of writing done the next two months. Why? It’s summer. I live in NYC. The weather mostly sucks here so when it’s nice I don’t want to spend hours at home, inside, writing. And if I am inside, maybe I want to read, watch a movie or show, clean my apartment, do a facial or manicure, cook. I dunno, other normal things. I was beating myself up about that, but whatevs. There is so much cool stuff going on, I’m going to do it. I work hard to play hard. Today I was supposed to go to the beach for a party but it’s storming so I’m trapped inside. I may write, or I may just chill because honestly I’m hungover from my fun day yesterday and don’t know how much mental energy I feel like exerting. 

I’m not going to be beholden to produce works at rapid pace to meet demand that isn’t as appreciated as it should be. 

So y’all will get chapter 18 at some point. It may not please everyone, but it will please me, and will be completed in my own time.

Thanks to all the readers who are great fans of fic writers! The ones who aren’t overly critical, leave comments, give kudos, reblog, and are patient are gold. We love you!

[p5x-theories]

(Originally a reply on the Haru info post, responding separately since that's kind of a long post and I don't want to reblog it again, heh)

@lolipopman416 Ah, yes, I think I listed them out for an ask in the past, but I'll just give you an updated list here! (And maybe add it to my FAQ, so the info's a bit more convenient to find, heh.)

Resist: good at targeting single enemies (Wonder (Janosik), Fleuret, Mont, Bui, Sepia, Messa, Skull, Queen). This tends to manifest as followup attacks that hit one target, or status effects/damage buffs that apply against specific targets.

Control: good at dealing with groups of enemies (Closer, Summer Motoha, Joker, Panther, Fox, Noir). This tends to manifest as lots of multi-target attacks, and bonuses for using those attacks in certain ways.

Surrender: focused around applying debuffs to gain an advantage (Key, Rin, Vino). This tends to manifest as a focus on a particular status effect, and the ability to do extra damage/effects to enemies once they're inflicted with it.

Rescue: focuses on healing companions (Cattle, Summer Tomoko, Marian, Mona). This has so far always included at least one healing skill, but often other healing abilities can be triggered as well.

Superior: good at buffing teammates and improving their effectiveness (Moko, Leon, Riddle, Chord). This has so far always manifested as unique buffs/status effects, sometimes becoming fully triggered by additional conditions.

Defense: good at protecting teammates and keeping them alive (Soy, Yuki, Cherish). This tends to manifest as shield-focused abilities, but Soy instead draws fire to himself, and buffs the team's max health temporarily.

Elucidation: the designation used for navigators (Wind, Okyann, Puppet, Phoebe, Oracle). This obviously has a wide array of specific applications, but tends to revolve around unique buffs or debuffs that the navigator can grant/inflict, and obviously each navigator has their own fights/team compositions they're most suited for.

These categories also apply to all of Wonder's Sea of Souls Personas, but I doubt you care as much about that in particular, and it'd honestly be way too time-consuming to list them all out, haha. But I hope this was what you're looking for!

For the most part, these combat roles/designations don't really matter in the game- there's no inherent penalty for having a team of three Resist characters and an Elucidation, for instance- but there are two places where you need to pay attention to them: Marthym Tasks, which often require 1-2 characters of a specific role, and certain Door to Ominous Dreams fights, where the survival-type fights require you to have at least one Rescue or Defense teammate, making the enemies much stronger if you lack one.

That said, the roles are also a bit useful for speculating what a character will be like as soon as they're announced! I remember it was interesting to first hear that Summer Tomoko was a Rescue instead of a Superior, because that implied a distinct change in skill set for her. We also had an idea of what to expect for Cherish, since we knew he was Defense before we'd even confirmed which character he actually was, haha!

It may also be a useful avenue for future theorizing- right now our story team lacks any Surrender or Superior teammates, so that may be what we're getting next! In general, we're lowest on Superior and Defense teammates (though they did just add Cherish), so we may be seeing more of them in the near future.