#she’s just existing in an existential way | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zebuie · 5 months ago

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TEACHERS PET.

❁ཻུ۪۪ ⋅ READ THIS. # DAILY CLICK ➹

# ☆ PAIRINGS ☆ ;: teacher!ellie x teacherspet!reader

# ☆ SYNOPSIS ☆ ;: college student develops a small crush on her philosophy teacher—but is it really small? soon, one thing leads to another. as feelings grow, they grow a secret romance.

# ☆ WC/CW ☆ ;: 9.2k, smutsmutsmut! , age gap between reader and ellie ( r is 20 and ellie 24 ) , cursing / swearing , situationship? , kissing , fingering ( r receiving ) , eating from the behind ( r receiving ) , tit sucking ( e receiving ) , strap on usage ( r receiving ) , pet names ( princess , baby , baby girl , babe ) , aftercare , lmk if there’s more.

You trudge into the school building, dreading the upcoming lecture. The hallway is packed with students milling about, creating a chaotic scene. "God I'm already fucking dreading this." you mutter to yourself as you try to make your way to the classroom.

Finally arriving at the door, you take a deep breath and enter the room.

It's even more crowded than you expected, with people jostling for seats. As you scan the room for an empty spot, your eyes land on a woman writing on the chalkboard.

She turns to face the class, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. It's Ellie Williams, the notorious philosophy teacher.

Her sharp jawline and piercing green eyes make her look more like a biker chick than an academic.

She's got a fit, muscular build evident even under her tight shirt. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to today's discussion on existentialism," she says in a commanding voice that leaves no doubt who's in charge.

As you slip into an empty seat, you can't help but stare at Ellie as she begins the lecture. Her confidence and authority are undeniable, and you find yourself drawn in despite your initial reluctance.

You sit entranced as Ellie begins to expound upon the meaning of life, her husky voice and commanding presence washing over you like a warm bath.

The way she struts across the front of the classroom, hips swaying, makes you imagine her strutting across your bed; demanding your total surrender.

Her words echo in your mind long after the lecture ends - "existence precedes essence"...a fitting philosophy for a woman who seems to exist solely on her own terms. As the class files out, you find yourself lingering, drawn to Ellie like a moth to a flame.

You clear your throat to get her attention, and she turns to face you, eyebrow raised in query. "Yes?" she asks, all domineering authority and sensuality. "I was wondering if you could...um...provide some extra guidance on the reading," you stammer, trying to play it cool. Ellie smiles - a slow, sultry curl of her lips. "Of course, I'd be happy to help. Meet me in my office after your next class." The way she says it, it sounds less like a suggestion and more like a command from your new mistress.

The rest of the day drags on in a sensual haze. You can barely concentrate in your other classes, your mind constantly wandering back to Ellie and the promise of her "guidance".

Finally, it's time for your next class to end. You pack up your things with feigned nonchalance, all the while sneaking glances at the clock.

As soon as the final bell rings, you're on your feet, eager to keep your appointment with destiny.

Making your way to Ellie's office, you take a deep breath and knock on the door. "Enter," comes her response.

Pushing the door open, you step inside the dimly lit room, the door closing behind you with a soft click - as if you're being locked into place. Ellie looks up from her desk, a gleam in her eye as she takes in your nervous figure. "Shut the door and come here," she commands.

You obey, your heart racing as you approach her. She rises from her chair, looming over you with an air of quiet power. "So, you wanted some extra guidance, huh?"

"Yes, if you could just explain the chapter on existentialism in more depth, I'd really appreciate it," you reply, trying to sound casual despite your racing heart.

Ellie nods, her eyes roaming over your face. "Of course. Have a seat." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk.

You sit, suddenly very aware of how small and confined the space feels with the two of you alone.

Ellie leans back against her desk, arms crossed over her chest. "Existentialism is all about taking responsibility for your own existence," she begins, her voice low and hypnotic. "It's about recognizing that, fundamentally, you are alone in the universe. No one else can live your life for you." Her gaze intensifies, boring into yours. "Does that resonate with you?" The way she asks, it feels more like a test than a question. You nod, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, it's like, we have to choose our own meaning in life, right?" Ellie nods, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Exactly. And that's a scary thought, because it means you have the power to create your own meaning. But it also means no one else can control your life for you." She pauses, studying you intently. "Does that set you free, or terrify you?"

"It's freeing, in a way," you venture, trying to sound braver than you feel.

Ellie leans forward, her elbows on the desk. "It's the most freeing thing in the world," she agrees, her voice dropping to a purr. "But it's also terrifying. Because if you're responsible for creating your own meaning, then you have to confront the possibility that you might get it wrong. That you might waste your life chasing things that don't truly fulfill you." Her eyes hold yours captive, searching. "So, what do you think you're doing with your life right now?" The question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly aware of how small and confined the space feels. "I...I don't know," you admit. "I mean, I go to class, I study, but is that really living? Is that what I want out of life?" Ellie watches you wrestle with the question, a knowing glint in her eye. "You seem like a smart girl," she says finally. "I think you have the potential to create something truly remarkable with your life. But first, you're going to have to take a leap of faith."

Just as Ellie is about to continue her line of questioning, her phone suddenly rings, shrill in the otherwise quiet room.

She glances down at the screen, her expression unreadable. "Excuse me a moment," she says brusquely, grabbing the phone and stepping away from the desk.

You sit in awkward silence as she takes the call, trying to ignore the sense of rejection that washes over you. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Ellie ends the call and returns to the desk, her eyes avoiding yours. "I apologize, but I'm going to have to cut our meeting short," she says stiffly.

"I have another appointment." She stands, indicating that your audience is at an end. You gather your things in a daze, feeling the sting of dismissal. As you reach the door, you can't help but steal one last glance at Ellie - who is already focused intently on her computer screen, pretending you were never there.

As you trudge back to your dorm, your mind is a whirlwind of confused emotions.

Part of you is thrilled at the prospect of getting to know Ellie better - but another part is terrified of the consequences. What if she doesn't feel the same way? What if you get hurt? Lost in thought, you don't even notice your phone buzzing in your pocket until several hours later.

Pulling it out, you see a call from Lana - your best friend and confidante. "Hey, girl!" she greets you, her usual bubbly self. "How's the first day back going?" You settle in, ready to offload everything that happened with Ellie.

As you recount the story, Lana listens with increasing amusement.

Lana's laughter echoes through the phone as the mysterious student recounts her tale of woe. "Aww, you've got it bad," Lana coos, her voice dripping with amusement.

"Seriously, you need to loosen up! It's just a crush." You sigh, the sound carrying clearly over the line. "I know, I know. It's just...there's something about her, you know? The way she carries herself..." Lana snorts, cutting in. "Says the girl who's never had a real relationship. Trust me, I know the type. Ellie seems like a total fuckboy, anyway. You'd just end up getting hurt." There's a pause, and then Lana's tone turns thoughtful.

"Although...we should maybe make you feel better. Go out, have some fun, get your mind off things. I say we hit up that new club downtown. You game?" You hesitate, uncertainty clear in your voice. But Lana's enthusiasm is infectious, and soon you've both made plans to meet up later that night. "Just relax and let loose, okay? Don't think about Ellie at all. We'll get you forgetting all about her in no time!"

You agree to meet Lana at the club later that night, hoping a night out will take your mind off your crush on Ellie.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of classes and studying, but eventually it's time to get ready to go out.

You meet up with Lana, who's already dressed to the nines in a tiny dress and heels. "Gorgeous, let's go!" she says, dragging you into the night.

The club is pulsating with music and lights. You and Lana make your way to the bar, ordering drinks as you scan the crowd.

It's a sea of unfamiliar faces - until you spot a group of girls from your sorority waving you over.

You make your way over, laughing and chatting as you down your first drink.

Gradually, the worries about Ellie start to fade away, replaced by the thrill of the night and the company of your friends.

Hours pass in a whirlwind of dancing, gossiping, and letting loose.

By the time the club starts to close, you feel rejuvenated - your earlier heartache all but forgotten. As you and Lana are getting ready to leave, a boisterous guy approaches, asking for Lana's number.

She plays hard to get for a bit, but eventually relents with a wink in your direction. You smile, feeling happy for your friend even as you can't help but wonder what Ellie is up to tonight.

You take a seat at the bar, ordering a strong cocktail to help take your mind off things.

The night wears on, and you find yourself getting lost in the music and the company of a friendly stranger who joins you at the bar.

Her name is Jenna, and she's charming and easy to talk to. As the hours pass, you find yourself growing more and more tipsy, laughing and joking around with Jenna as the night wears on.

At some point, you both decide to hit the dance floor, moving and grooving to the pulsing beat. You're having a great time, but as the night wears on, your inhibitions lower.

You find yourself getting more and more suggestively flirtatious with Jenna, pressed up against her and grinding together as you lost in the music. Just as things are really starting to heat up, you feel a sudden jolt of recognition. Turning, you lock eyes with a pair of piercing green ones across the bar.

For a moment, you wonder if you're hallucinating - but then you see the familiar fit physique and messy auburn hair. It's Ellie. Your heart skips a beat as you realize your philosophy teacher is staring you down...

Your heart races as you realize Ellie is watching you closely from across the bar.

you consider waving her over, but then you remember how the night started - with you confessing your crush to your best friend.

You also remember Lana's words of wisdom about not wanting to get hurt.

But then you see the way Ellie is looking at you - like she's undressing you with her eyes. Your resolve weakens.

Grabbing Jenna's hand, you pull her behind you, pressing her against the bar as you rub up against her boldly.

You catch Ellie's eye, holding her gaze as you grind against the other girl.

Jenna laughs, assuming you're just playing around, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you at the prospect of making your teacher jealous. You lost in the moment, feeling bold and reckless. Who knows what will happen tomorrow - but tonight, you're going to enjoy the thrill of the chase.

As you and Jenna put on a provocative show for Ellie, the philosophy teacher's expression grows more and more dark.

Her eyes narrow to slits, and her jaw clenches visibly.

You can practically hear the steam coming out of her ears as she watches you.

Finally, she appears to reach her limit. Tossing some money on the bar, she storms off into the night, disappearing into the crowd.

You breathe a sigh of relief, assuming the coast is clear.

Turning back to Jenna, you grab her face and pull her in for a deep, messy kiss. She kisses you back eagerly, and you lose yourself in the moment.

As you make out with Jenna, you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at having made your teacher jealous.

But as the night wears on, things start to get a little fuzzy... You remember snippets of making out with Jenna, dancing, and doing shots with new friends.

But by the time you stumble out of the club in the early hours of the morning, you can barely remember your own name.

The sunlight streaming through your window feels like razor blades in your brain.

You groggily sit up, your head pounding.

The events of the previous night come back to you in hazy flashes - dancing, drinking, making out with a stranger.

You feel a wave of shame wash over you as you realize how far you went. Did you go too far? You try to piece together the details, but your memories are fragmented and hazy.

Just then, there's a knock at the door. It's Lana, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed despite the early hour. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" she says, bouncing into the room. "How are you feeling?" She looks at you with concern as you wince at the light. "I take it things didn't go exactly as planned last night?" You shake your head, feeling mortified. Lana sits down next to you, taking your hand.

"Hey, it's okay. We've all been there. But maybe next time, drink more water and less vodka, yeah?" You manage a weak laugh.

Lana helps you stumble to the bathroom to take some painkillers and splash some water on your face.

As you're brushing your teeth, you can't help but wonder what Ellie is thinking this morning.

Lana helps you tidy up your room, putting away your clothes and picking up the remnants of the night before.

As she works, she keeps you company, chatting amiably about everything except the previous evening.

By the time she leaves you to get ready for classes, your head still throbs, but you feel a bit more human.

You head to Philosophy 101 with trepidation, wondering how the day will go after your drunken antics last night. As you take your seat, you keep an eye on the door, waiting to see if Ellie will mention anything about your behavior.

But she says nothing out of the ordinary, launching straight into the day's lecture. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the situation hasn't become awkward. At least, not yet.

As the lecture goes on, you can't help but sneak glances at Ellie, wondering if she knows about your encounter with her last night.

Does she think you're just another cheap drunk? Or did seeing you with another woman make her question her own attraction to you? You try to focus on the lecture, but your mind keeps wandering. One thing's for sure - this is going to be an interesting semester.

As the days go by, you try to put the drunken escapades of the first day behind you.

You focus on your studies, determined to prove to yourself and everyone else that you're more than just a party animal.

But no matter how hard you try, you can't seem to get Ellie off your mind. In class, you keep stealing glances at her, wondering if she's noticed any changes in you.

Sometimes you catch her looking at you, but whenever you meet her gaze, she quickly looks away. Is she avoiding you? Ignoring you? It's impossible to tell.

You try to talk to Lana about it, but she just laughs and tells you to stop overthinking things. "She's your teacher. It's never gonna happen," she says, rolling her eyes.

But you can't quite shake the feeling that there's still a spark there, no matter how much Lana denies it.

One day, as you're packing up your things after class, you notice Ellie's door slightly ajar.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you peek inside. She's sitting at her desk, grading papers. Your presence must surprise her, because she looks up with a startled expression. "Can I help you?" she asks, her tone stern but her eyes revealing a flicker of—something.

You hesitate in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed. Ellie's gaze bores into you, expecting an explanation.

"I just...I wanted to apologize for last week," you stammer, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks. "I was way out of line, and I'm really sorry." Ellie considers this for a moment, then nods. "Apology accepted," she says simply.

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the tension between you seems to be dissipating. As you turn to leave, Ellie clears her throat. "Actually— Can you stay after class today? I have something I want to discuss with you." Her tone is still professional, but there's a hint of something else in her eyes. Something that makes your heart skip a beat—lust. Pure lust in her eyes.

After class, you head to Ellie's office, your heart pounding in your chest.

What could she possibly want to discuss with you? You knock on the door, and when Ellie invites you in, you take a deep breath and enter.

The office is bigger than you expected, with bookshelves lining the walls and a desk in the middle. Ellie sits behind the desk, leaning back in her chair.

"Close the door and have a seat," she says, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk.

You do as you're told, trying to calm your nerves. Ellie studies you for a moment, her eyes roaming over your face. "I've been noticing you in class lately," she begins, her voice low and measured. "You seem...different. More engaged. More curious." She pauses, searching for the right words.

"I have to admit, I was worried about how you'd handle last week's activities. But you seem to have handled it with maturity." You feel a flush rise to your cheeks at the memory of your drunken escapades. "Thank you," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie leans forward, her eyes locking onto yours. "I think you have the potential to be an excellent philosopher, But it requires dedication, hard work...and a willingness to challenge yourself." She pauses, studying you intently. "Are you up for the challenge?"

You nod eagerly, determined to prove yourself. "Absolutely," you say, meeting Ellie's gaze with a fierce look of your own. "I won't let you down." A small smile plays at the corner of Ellie's lips, and she reaches for a pen and paper.

"Good," she says, scribbling down her phone number. "In case you need to reach me...or want to discuss some of the ideas we cover in class." She slides the paper across the desk to you.

You take it, feeling a rush of excitement. Before you can react, Ellie stands, indicating that the meeting is over. "Think about the ideas we discussed today," she says. "And feel free to call me if you have any questions." You leave the office in a daze, the slip of paper clutched tightly in your hand.

As you walk across campus, you can't help but stare at Ellie's phone number.

Should you really call her? What would you even say? But then you remember her words - she wants you to challenge yourself. To grow.

And what could be more challenging than asking out your philosophy teacher? Taking a deep breath, you pull out your phone and dial the number. It rings once...twice...and then Ellie answers. "Hello?" her voice is smooth as silk. "Hi, it's me." There's a pause, and then Ellie laughs. "Of course."

"It's nice to hear from you." Ellie says, her voice warm and friendly. You can almost hear her smiling over the phone.

"What's up?" You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. "Well...I was hoping maybe we could grab a cup of coffee sometime and discuss some of the ideas from class. You know, challenge myself like you suggested." There's a pause, and for a moment you fear you've overstepped.

But then Ellie responds. "I'd like that." You feel a surge of excitement, trying to keep your cool. "Great so um, when were you thinking?" How did you go from asking your philosophy teacher for coffee to making plans with her? You're not sure, but you can't help the thrill that shoots through you at the prospect of spending time with Ellie.

"How about tomorrow afternoon?" she suggests. "There's a cafe just off campus. I know the owner, so we can get a quiet table if you'd like." You agree on a time, and hang up the phone with a huge grin on your face.

You can't believe it - you're actually going to have coffee with Ellie. And who knows what might happen after that.

The next day, you arrive at the cafe early, nursing a nervous energy. You spot Ellie outside, looking even more finer than usual in a casual grey sweater and jeans.

She smiles as she sees you, and you can't help but return it.

Inside, the cafe is cozy and quiet, just as Ellie said.

You take a seat at a small table by the window, and Ellie joins you a moment later, sliding in across from you. "So," she says, leaning back in her chair. "Tell me more about what you liked about last week's reading. What stood out to you." You launch into a discussion of the finer points of existentialism, surprised at how easily the conversation flows.

Ellie listens intently, interjecting with insightful questions and comments. Before you know it, an hour has passed, and you feel like you've barely scratched the surface of the topics you want to discuss.

Glancing at the clock, you realize you've been talking for over two hours.

Ellie laughs as she catches you checking the time. "I guess we got a bit carried away," she says, smiling. "But I have to say, I'm really enjoying this. It's not often I get to have such thoughtful discussions with my students." You feel a flutter in your chest at her words. Is this a date? Or just a fun intellectual exchange? Either way, you're not ready for it to end.

As you finish up your coffee, Ellie glances at her watch. "I suppose I should let you get to your next class," she says, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

You stand up, gathering your things, and Ellie does the same. Outside the cafe, she falls into step beside you as you begin the walk back to campus.

The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the sidewalk. "I have to say, I'm impressed," Ellie remarks, glancing at you sidelong. "Most of my students wouldn't bother showing up to a coffee date dressed like that." You feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you realize you're wearing the same outfit you had on the first day of class.

Ellie must have been checking you out. The thought sends a shiver down your spine.

As you walk, the conversation continues, flowing easily between you. You discover shared interests and favorite authors, bonding over your love of philosophy.

By the time you reach your dorm, the sky is dark, and stars are beginning to twinkle overhead. Ellie pauses at your doorstep, looking up at you. "I had a really great time today," she says softly. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?" Her eyes search yours, and you can't help but wonder what she's looking for. With that, she leans in and presses her lips to yours in a sweet, brief kiss. It's chaste, but filled with promise.

The next few weeks pass in a blur of coffee dates, long walks, and deep discussions about life, philosophy, and everything in between.

You find yourself falling for Ellie, hard. She's brilliant, passionate, and genuinely interested in you and your thoughts.

You discover a sexy side to her, too - the way her eyes smolder when she's excited by an idea, or the way her hands move when she's gesturing enthusiastically. But even as you grow closer, you can't shake the feeling that there's something holding Ellie back.

She's always quick to deflect when you try to get too personal, and there are moments when her expression shifts, just for a second, into something guarded. One evening, as you're walking back to your dorm after another amazing date, you decide to confront her. "Ellie—" you pause for a moment. "what are we?" you continue.

Ellie pauses, looking up at you with those intense green eyes.

For a moment, you think you see a flicker of fear in their depths. Then her expression smooths into a mask of calm.

"What do you mean?" she asks, her voice even. You take a deep breath and plunge ahead. "I mean...we've been seeing each other for weeks now.

We have all these deep talks and go on dates. It feels like more than just a friendship to me. So...what are we?" Ellie looks away, staring up at the stars twinkling overhead.

"I care about you, Really deeply. But..." She pauses, seeming to struggle with her words. "My job is to teach and mentor you. That's a pretty big power imbalance, and I don't want to compromise your academic experience."

She looks back at you, her eyes searching yours. "I'm scared that if we keep going down this path, it will complicate things in ways I'm not sure I'm equipped to handle." Your heart aches at the vulnerability in her voice.

But then Ellie does something unexpected - she reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "But I enjoy your company more than anything else in my life right now. So...let's just see where this goes, okay? We'll take things slowly and figure it out as we go. Deal?"

You nod eagerly, not trusting yourself to speak.

Ellie smiles, squeezing your hand once more before letting go.

"Good," she says simply. As you continue walking, the weight of her confession hangs in the air between you.

You're not sure what the future holds, but for now, you're content to enjoy each other's company. When you reach your dorm, Ellie walks you to the door, just like she has every night.

But this time, instead of kissing you goodbye, she leans in close, her forehead pressing against yours. "I really like you," she whispers. "More than I should." You can feel her words vibrating against your skin.

"I know it's not ideal, but I don't care. I want to be with you." With that, she pulls back and waits, looking up at you with those deep green orbs.

You realize this is a turning point. You can walk away now, preserving the status quo. Or you can take a chance on Ellie, and see where this forbidden connection takes you.

You look into Ellie's eyes, seeing the sincerity and vulnerability there. You feel the same way about her - more than just likes and crushes.

This is real. And as much as you know you should be careful, you can't bring yourself to let her go. "I really like you too," you whisper, mirroring her words. Ellie's face lights up at your response, and she leans in once more, her lips brushing yours in a sweet, tender kiss.

It's not a chaste kiss this time - there's heat and promise in it. As you pull back, you realize that this is the start of something new.

Something that terrifies you, but also fills you with exhilaration. "I'll see you tomorrow?" Ellie asks, her voice filled with hope. You nod, smiling. "Definitely."

As you step inside your dorm, you can't help but glance over your shoulder at Ellie, who's still standing there, watching you.

You know that you're taking a risk by being with her. But right now, you don't care. All you can think about is the fact that the woman you've fallen for wants you too. And that's worth fighting for.

It's the week before finals, and you're running on fumes.

Between classes, work, and your blossoming relationship with Ellie, you're stretched thin.

You've been putting off studying, hoping you could somehow magically absorb all the material through osmosis.

But as the pressure mounts, you know you need to buckle down and focus.

The problem is, you don't know where to start. You consider hitting up Lana, but you know she'll just tell you to chill out and study with her later.

You need help - and fast. So who do you turn to? Your philosophy teacher, of course.

You're nervous about asking Ellie for help, but you're more desperate than ever.

You send her a nervous text. "Hey...I know this is last minute, but would you be willing to help me study for my exams? I feel totally overwhelmed and I know your class is key to understanding a lot of the material. I really appreciate you, and I know this is a big ask..." You wait with bated breath for her response.

You nervously wait for Ellie's response, your phone glued to your hand.

After what feels like an eternity, you see her name pop up on your screen. "Heyyy, no worries at all, Of course I'd be happy to help you study.

When were you thinking? How about tomorrow afternoon, we could meet at the library and go over some key concepts together?

also how are you holding up, honestly? Finals week can be really rough. lemme know if u need help with anything else:))" You feel a rush of relief and gratitude at her response.

You quickly type back a thanks and a confirmation of the study session.

As you set your phone down, you can't help but smile. Even when you're being a mess, Ellie is there for you.

She's not just your teacher or your girlfriend - she's a true friend.

The next day, you meet Ellie at the library and dive into your studying.

Having her guidance and support makes all the difference. As you work together, you can't help but steal glances at each other, both aware that this is more than just a study session.

It's a moment of intimacy, of teamwork, of shared goal-oriented effort. And it only serves to strengthen your bond.

By the time you wrap up your studying, you feel confident and ready for your exams. Plus, you got to spend quality time with the girl you love. It's the perfect outcome.

As you finish up your studying, Ellie glances at her watch. "We've been at it for a few hours," she remarks. "How about I walk you back to your dorm?" You agree, gathering your things, and Ellie leads you out of the library and onto the quiet campus streets.

It's a chilly evening, and you can see your breath misting in the air.

But as you walk alongside Ellie, you don't feel the cold at all. You're too busy stealing glances at her, admiring the way her hair falls in loose waves around her face. Eventually, you arrive at your dorm. You pause at the door, unsure what to do.

Do you invite her up? Do you kiss her goodbye? Before you can decide, Ellie leans in, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss.

One moment you're standing there, the next you're wrapped up in each other, hands exploring, tongues entwined.

The kiss deepens and lengthens, until you're both panting, pressed up against each other.

Ellie breaks away, her eyes dark with desire. "I want you," she whispers, her voice husky. "Right now." You don't need any further invitation. You lead her inside, your hands roaming, your hearts racing.

Ellie steps inside your dorm room, her eyes adjusting to the dimmer light. She looks around, taking in the scatter of books and clothes, the general chaos of a student's space.

But her attention is quickly drawn back to you, as she takes a step closer. "Can I...touch you?" she asks softly, her fingers hovering against your cheek.

You nod, your heart pounding. Ellie's fingers trace the line of your jaw, your neck, slipping beneath your shirt to feel the curve of your shoulder blade.

Each touch sends shivers down your spine. As her hand explores your body, you can't help but touch her in return - running your fingers through her hair, tracing the shape of her breasts through her hoodie.

The air between you crackles with electricity. Ellie steps closer still, until her body is pressed up against yours.

You can feel every curve, every ridge - the swell of her hips, the jut of her collarbone.

It's like fitting together two puzzle pieces, so perfectly do you mesh. Ellie's head dips down, her lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. She kisses you there, and then suckles gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

One of her hands slips under your shirt, fingers splaying across your stomach. You can feel her warm breath on your skin, her heartbeat pounding in time with yours.

As Ellie's lips trail down your neck, her hand slides further under your shirt, her fingers teasing the waistband of your pants.

You can feel your heart racing, your breath coming in short gasps. The sensation of her touch, so soft and feather-light, is driving you crazy. You want more.

Need more. With trembling hands, you reach down to grip Ellie's coat, pulling her closer still.

Her body presses up against yours, and you can feel every inch of her, from the curve of her breasts to the line of her thighs. It's overwhelming, in the best possible way.

Ellie's head dips lower, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss. Her tongue slips inside your mouth, tangling with your own. You can taste yourself on her, musky and intimate. As you kiss, Ellie's hand slides further down, fingers brushing against the front of your pants.

She cups you there, her thumb swiping over the sensitive head. You arch into her touch, a needy little moan escaping your lips. Ellie breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with lust. "Clothes off," she whispers, her voice rough. "Now."

Ellie's words send a jolt of electricity through you. Without breaking eye contact, you reach back and pull your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly across the room.

Ellie's gaze rakes over your bare torso, her eyes lingering on your nipples, hard and betraying your arousal. She takes a step closer, her hands coming up to palm your breasts, feeling their weight in her hands.

You let out a shaky breath as she leans in, her lips finding yours once more.

The kiss is deep and hungry, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. With a strength you didn't know she had, Ellie pushes you back towards the bed.

You fall onto the mattress, Ellie looming over you, her hands still on your breasts. She leans down, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, "I've wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you." With that, she claims your mouth once more, even as she reaches down to start undoing your pants.

As Ellie undoes your pants, you realize you haven't asked her to undress yet. You reach up, grasping at the hem of her hoodie.

"Take this off," you manage to gasp out between kisses. Ellie nods, breaking the kiss to pull the hoodie over her head, revealing the sports bra beneath.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to her nipples, visible through the thin fabric, straining towards you. You can't help but lick your lips, the sight arousing you further.

Next, you work on the drawstrings of her pants, pushing them down along with her underwear.

Ellie steps out of the puddle of fabric, now wearing nothing but her sports bra and socks. You drink in the sight of her, from the toned curves of her arms and shoulders, to the flat plane of her stomach, to the juncture between her thighs. She's beautiful. Perfect.

You sit up, grasping at the back of her head, pulling her in for a deep, devouring kiss. As you kiss, your hands roam - tracing the lines of her muscles, feeling the dips and curves of her body.

As you kiss Ellie, your hands explore her body, mapping out every dip and curve.

You can't get enough of her, and you pull her down onto the bed with you. Ellie lands on top of you, her weight a comforting pressure.

She shifts, straddling your waist, her sex aligning with yours. You can feel the heat of her, even through the thin fabric of her sports bra.

Ellie breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with desire. She reaches back, deftly takes off her bra. It falls away, revealing her breasts - full and heavy, topped with pink nipples.

You reach out, taking one in your mouth, suckling gently. Ellie throws her head back, a soft moan escaping her lips.

As you kiss Ellie, her hands start to roam over your body as well - slipping her hand under your panties to cup your pussy.

She breaks the kiss, her eyes dark with desire as she pulls you back down onto the bed. "On your hands and knees," she orders, her voice husky.

Obediently, you flip over, presenting yourself to her. Ellie settles between your legs, her hands spreading you apart.

You can feel her hot breath on your most intimate areas, making you shiver. Her tongue dips out, licking through your folds, finding your clit.

You let out a choked cry, your back arching off the bed. Ellie laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin as she continues her ministrations.

She pays special attention to your nipples, rolling the sensitive buds between her fingers and sucking them deep into her mouth. You're lost to the sensation, your hips rocking against her face as she brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Just when you think you can't take anymore, Ellie stops. She flips you over onto your back, her body looming over yours. "what d’you want princess? hm?” she whispers, her eyes burning with need.

You look up at Ellie, your lips parted, your chest heaving.

You can't form words, not even a whimper. All you can do is point to your pussy, pleadingly.

Ellie gets the message. She settles between your legs once more, her hands holding you open.

This time, she doesn't tease - her tongue dives in, licking up your wetness, circling your clit.

You feel yourself getting close, your walls clenching around nothing.

Just as you think you're about to tumble over the edge, Ellie stops again. This time, she's got a finger poised at your asshole.

"Like this?" she asks, looking into your eyes.

You nod, too far gone to form words. Ellie presses her finger against you, pushing past the initial resistance.

You feel her digging deeper, curling her finger inside you. It's a weird sensation, but not unpleasant.

As she fingers you, Ellie leans down, her lips finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

She tastes like you - musky and intimate. You can feel yourself getting close again, your body tensing.

This time, when you crest, Ellie is there with you. She licks into your mouth, swallowing your cries as she brings you both to climax. You collapse back onto the bed, Ellie half on top of you, both of you panting. Ellie pulls her finger out of you, licking it clean. "Fuck,"

As you catch your breath, Ellie starts cleaning you up with gentle, soothing touches.

She wipes the sweat from your brow, the saliva from your lips. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, calming you.

You feel like putty in her hands, pliant and relaxed. Eventually, you're both clean and comfortable, curled up together in a tangle of limbs.

Ellie presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "Goodnight princess." she whispers. You smile, feeling happy and sated. Ellie pulls away, slipping out of bed.

She gathers up her clothes, stepping into them one piece at a time. As she leaves, she turns back to kiss you once more, her lips soft and warm against yours.

"I love you," she murmurs. Then she's gone, closing the door quietly behind her.

You're left alone in the dark, a satisfied smile on your face, her words echoing in your mind. You love her too. More than you ever thought possible.

The next morning, you wake up feeling refreshed and happy.

You can't help but smile as you remember the previous night's events.

You're still on cloud nine when you head to philosophy class. But as soon as you walk in and see Ellie at the front of the room,

all your good feelings evaporate. You feel a blush rise to your cheeks as you realize how inappropriate your relationship is. How could you do this with your teacher? You take your seat, keeping your eyes fixed on your notebook.

But as the class progresses, you can't help but sneak glances at Ellie. She seems distracted too, her usual enthusiasm dampened.

Eventually, class ends, and you file out with your classmates. Ellie hangs back, waiting for you.

As everyone else leaves, she steps closer. "Hey—about yesterday... I know this is complicated. But I care about you so much. I don't want anything to ruin what we have. Can we just pretend class is cancelled today? Spend some more time together?" She looks at you with those earnest, hopeful eyes.

You feel your resolve crumbling. What could a few more hours hurt? "Okay," you find yourself agreeing. "Let's go for a walk."

As you walk with Ellie, you can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Isn't this just repeating itself? You're just delaying the inevitable, aren't you? But the warmth of her hand in yours, the sparkle in her eyes when she looks at you, make you forget your misgivings.

For the moment, anyway. You walk and talk, enjoying each other's company, trying to ignore the fact that you're alone on campus on a weekend day.

Eventually, you find yourselves at the edge of the woods. A path stretches into the trees, dark and inviting.

Without a word, Ellie takes your hand and leads you down it. The canopy of leaves blocks out the sun, casting the forest floor in cool shadows.

Ellie pulls you into a clearng, the center of which is taken up by a small pond. In the center of the pond is an old stone fountain, dry and cracked.

Ellie lets go of your hand and walks over to it, running her fingers over the worn surface. "I used to come here a lot when I was a student," she says softly. "It was my escape." She looks at you then, her eyes dark with emotion. "I know this is wrong, I'm your teacher, and you're my student. But I can't help how I feel. And I don't want to lose you." She takes a step closer, her hands reaching out.

As Ellie steps closer, you can see the desperation in her eyes. She wants to touch you, to hold you, but she's holding herself back. "I think... I think we need to take a break," she says softly.

"Not from each other, from all of this. From the secrecy, from the taboo. It's eating away at me, wondering when someone is going to find out.

When this is going to blow up in our faces." She takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping. "I don't want to lose you, but I also don't want to do something that could ruin your life. You're too important to me." You feel a pang in your chest at her words.

She's right, of course. But the idea of giving up what you have with her is impossible. You reach out and take her hand, squeezing it. "No," you say firmly. "I don't want to give up what we have either. We'll find a way to make this work." Ellie looks at you, her eyes searching. "How, How are we going to make this work when everything is against us?"

Ellie's eyes darken with emotion at your words. She wants to believe you, wants to think that you can overcome all the obstacles in your way.

But she knows, deep down, that it's unlikely. She pulls her hand away, rubbing her temples as if to ward off a headache. "I think... I think we need to stop seeing each other. Until we can figure out a way to make this work, we need to stay away from each other. For your own good, for both of our sakes." Her voice cracks on the last word, betraying the pain she feels.

She looks at you then, her eyes pleading. "Can we do that? Can we stay away from each other for a little while, until we can come up with a plan?" You feel a lump rise in your throat at her words.

The idea of not seeing her, not touching her, feels like a death sentence. But she's right, of course. You both need to take a step back and regroup. With a heavy heart, you nod. "Yeah," you say softly. "Yeah, I think you're right." Ellie exhales shakily, some of the tension leaving her body.

"Okay, then. We'll do that. We'll stay away from each other until we can figure this out." She looks at you one last time before turning and walking back through the woods, leaving you alone by the pond.

It's been a few days since you and Ellie decided to take a break. The last few days have been a blur of sadness and loneliness.

You've been lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, missing her more than you ever thought possible.

Just as you're starting to drift off to sleep, you hear a soft knock at the door. You stare at it in surprise - who could it be at this hour? You shuffle over and open the door, finding Ellie standing there, looking pale and exhausted. "Can I come in?" she asks softly. You nod, moving aside to let her in.

As she enters and closes the door behind her, you can't help but notice how different she looks from the vibrant, energetic Ellie you know.

This version looks defeated, her eyes shadowed by lack of sleep and worry. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about this situation. And I think I know how we can make it work." She looks at you, her eyes pleading. "But we're going to have to trust each other completely. Can you do that for me?"

As Ellie finishes speaking, you feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to make this work. "Yes," you find yourself agreeing. "I can do that." Ellie's face brightens at your words, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Good. Because I don't want to live in a world without you in it, princess." She reaches out and takes your hand, pulling you towards the door. "Come on, let's go for a walk. We need to get out of this room." You follow her quietly, enjoying the feeling of her hand in yours. As you walk, Ellie talks, explaining her plan for how you two can be together.

It's ambitious, and it won't be easy. But with Ellie by your side, you're willing to try anything.

The walk eventually leads you to a quiet neighborhood, one you've never been to before. Ellie pauses in front of a small, cozy house. "This is my house," she says softly. “come inside with me?” You feel a blush rise to your cheeks, knowing what will likely happen once you're inside.

But you want to be with her, no matter what. "Okay," you agree.

As you follow Ellie into her home, you feel a sense of nervous anticipation. You know what's likely to happen next, and a part of you is thrilled, while another part is terrified.

Once inside, Ellie locks the door behind you, turning to face you with a serious expression. "Listen, princess," she says softly. "What happens next is up to you. If you want to stop, if you want to leave, just say the word. But if you're willing to take a chance on us, then...then I want to show you just how much I care." She takes a step closer, her eyes burning into yours.

"I want to make you feel so so good baby girl. I want to show you that we can make this work." As she speaks, she reaches up and cups your face, her thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

You feel a shiver run down your spine at her touch.

Ellie's words send a jolt of electricity through you, her touch setting you ablaze.

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing growing ragged. "Show me," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible.

Ellie smiles softly at your response, her eyes darkening with possessiveness and desire.

She guides you further into the house, leading you upstairs to a small bedroom.

It's simply furnished, with a large bed taking up most of the space. Ellie walks over to it and sits down, patting the space beside her. "C’mere baby," she invites, her voice low and husky.

You hesitate for a moment, your hands shaking as you remove your clothing.

But as you climb onto the bed and settle beside Ellie, you feel a sense of rightness, of coming home.

Ellie pulls you close, wrapping her arms around you and holding you tight. Her lips find yours in a soft, sweet kiss.

she kisses you, her hands start to roam - tracing the lines of your back, the curve of your hips. She rolls you onto your back, looking down at you with those earnest, adoring eyes. "I love you, princess, so so much.” she whispers.

As Ellie's lips meet yours, you feel like you're melting into her embrace. Her touch is electric, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

You kiss her back with all the passion and love in your heart, your arms wrapping around her waist, holding her close.

As she rolls you onto your back, you feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you.

But it's a good vulnerability, a trusting kind.

You look up at her, seeing the love in her eyes, and you know that everything is going to be okay.

Ellie's hands start to explore your body, tracing patterns on your skin, tugging gently at your clothes.

She undresses you slowly, reverently, each article of clothing eliciting a soft gasp from you as it's pulled away.

Once you're naked, Ellie settles between your legs, her eyes feasting on your bared flesh.

You feel her warm breath on your most intimate area, making you shiver.

And then her tongue touches you, sliding through your folds, seeking out your clit. You let out a soft cry of pleasure, your hips arching off the bed as she begins to lick and suck at you.

After a while, Ellie slows down her ministrations, her tongue dragging lazily through your wet folds.

She looks up at you, her eyes dark with desire. Without a word, she climbs off the bed and walks over to the closet.

You hear her rummaging around in it for a moment before she returns, a long, thick strap-on dangling from her hand.

Your eyes widen at the sight of it, a mixture of excitement and nervousness washing over you. Ellie looks at you, her expression serious. "ready princess?" she asks softly.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You nod, your mouth too dry to form words.

Ellie helps you move into position, her hands guiding your hips as she presses the thick head of the strap-on against your entrance. You feel a moment of hesitation, of doubt, but then the head begins to slip inside, stretching you in ways you've never been stretched before.

You gasp, your body tensing as Ellie works the strap-on deeper inside you. Finally, it's all the way in.

You feel full, so very full. But in a good way, like you're being filled with potential, with possibility. Ellie leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. "We're gonna take it slow," she promises.

As Ellie begins to move the strap-on inside you, you feel a mixture of pleasure and discomfort.

It's a lot to take, being stretched and filled in ways your body isn't used to.

But Ellie is patient, letting you adjust to the sensation.

She starts off slow, her hips rocking in a steady, rhythmic motion. You feel yourself relaxing into it, your body starting to crave the sensation.

As Ellie picks up speed, you start to feel a building pressure inside you, a sense of anticipation.

It's like your body is getting ready to explode, to release all the tension and pleasure that's been building. And then, suddenly, you're coming.

Your whole body seizes up as your climax hits, your fingers clutching at the sheets, your toes curling. Ellie keeps thrusting through your orgasm, riding it out with you.

Finally, she slows to a stop, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You collapse back onto the bed, spent and satisfied. Ellie lies down beside you, pulling you close. "That was amazing," she murmurs. "But I know it was a lot. Are you okay, princess?"

You nod As you lie there, caught on the wave of afterglow, Ellie tends to you with gentle, loving care.

She takes the strap-on out of you, cleaning you up with soft cloths and warm water. Her touch is soothing, calming any lingering discomfort. Once you're clean, she sets about filling you up with soft, sweet kisses. Her lips trail across your skin, dotting your body with tiny pecks. She pays special attention to your breasts, your hips, your inner thighs. Each kiss feels like a promise, a seal of love and affection. As she kisses you, she wraps her arms around you, holding you close. You can feel her heart beating against your own, a steady, reassuring rhythm. "I love you," she whispers, punctuating her words with more kisses. "So very much."

“I love u too Els.”

tag list— @youfoundheavenn @gaylittleellie @xaaaavleg @sleepy-sheep-things

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bixels · 11 months ago

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Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

#ramblings #long post #not art #personal #also i know “did glados actually delete caroline” is debated cuz the credits song disputes this #but i like to think she did #it's not sad. caroline died a long time ago #it's a goodbye

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burntoutdaydreamer · 1 year ago

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To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles

(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).

Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.

I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.

Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).

What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.

To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:

1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist

The Devil Wears Prada

Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.

The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.

In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.

2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.

Why?

Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.

Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.

In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.

3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle

Kung Fu Panda 2

Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.

Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.

Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.

Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.

4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System

The Hunger Games

We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.

President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.

Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.

Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.

In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.

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wastefulreverie · 1 year ago

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fixed point

“Would you like to know how much time you have left?” Clockwork asked.

Danny had never wished more that he’d died in something with pockets so he could hide his shaking hands. The endless ticking in the lair—hundreds of hands TICK TICK TICK -ing in perfect sync—had never sounded so ominous.

“I—” his voice rattled his throat, a raw thing “—I didn’t think you gave spoilers.”

With an absent spin of their staff, Clockwork shifted from adult to child and said nothing. Dread hung heavy in the air, Clockwork’s unblinking stare piercing through it all. Danny pointedly did not make eye contact. Instead focusing on the oscillating hands of the wall behind them.

He took a breath.

“Will it make it easier, knowing?”

Clockwork blinked once, face betraying nothing.

Dammit.

He wasn’t an idiot. There was really only one outcome of this conversation. Just as there had been the day he’d first pulled on his jumpsuit, walking—tripping—through the threshold. Life snuffed out of him in less than a second.

He brought his shaking hands together and met Clockwork’s even gaze.

And answered.

Thirteen days.

Seven hours.

Thirty-six minutes.

It was somehow both longer and shorter than he’d expected.

It was also a weight off his shoulders, at least in the beginning. It wouldn’t happen any earlier than the date Clockwork had recounted that night. Thirteen days of freedom. Peace. Liberation.

Because if he thought too much about the length of thirteen days, how three-hundred or so hours wasn’t enough time— it’s not fucking FAIR —he would be swallowed by the crushing anxiety that made its permanent home in his stomach.

So there was that.

He didn’t bother telling his friends. They were already all on edge, but if he could act like all was well he could ease their worries. Because ultimately they were just worried about him, and if he was fine they would be too.

He did, however, make contingency plans. Farewell videos on a USB drive taped to the underside of his bed.

He wanted Clockwork to be wrong. Some nights he laid awake, trying his damndest to find a way off this track. This self-fulfilling prophecy. But there was nothing. That moment had already passed with that stupid news broadcast that had glued him to the couch, shaking, as his parents had shouted and jeered at the screen. Dismissive. Furious. Invested.

They hadn’t noticed when he pushed himself off the couch and stumbled, shaking, to the bathroom to purge the contents of his stomach.

It was a miracle he’d only gotten a two-day suspension for slugging Wes in the face in front of the whole cafeteria. Even more so that no one had pieced it together from that.

No one saw him. But they would. When it was too late.

He couldn’t stop it. But as he didn’t acknowledge it in the waking world it wouldn’t exist. So he reserved his existential crises for when there was nothing to distract him from the looming, inevitable deadline.

He wished he could tell Mr. Lancer that whenever he was given detention that afternoon.

On the night of the twelfth day, he didn’t sleep a wink. No amount of coffee could keep his head above his desk that morning, and so, Danny spent his final hour in detention. He considered skipping. Detention was not the place for everything to come to an end.

But wouldn’t leaving—deviating from his normal routine—up the chances of putting events in motion?

Avoidance was his specialty, after all.

Jazz could write a paper on his coping tactics alone if she hadn’t already.

At nineteen minutes Mr. Lancer stopped in front of his desk. It was only him and Valerie today, and she sat somewhere three desks behind and to his left of him. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, loose yellow sleeves draped over her hands. The bags under her eyes rivaled his own, even though he was sure there hadn’t been too many ghosts in the past week or so—but then again, he’d not been the most attentive to things on the ghost front lately. It was probably his fault she was here at all.

“Mr. Fenton,” Lancer said. He forced his head to turn, a feat much more difficult than it sounded. His head felt full of lead. “Is everything alright at home?”

Danny forced himself not to cringe.

“Uh.” He ignored the sound of Valerie shifting in her seat behind him. Great. An audience. “Yes.”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been getting much less sleep of late, is all.”

Now this was a load of shit. Danny’s sleep schedule was normally trash. This current existential crisis was no more taxing than his normal night activities.

Lancer continued. “And your parents have—” he paused, eyes flitting somewhere behind him. “—in light of recent revelations, I just worry, Mr. Fenton.”

Hm.

Did he know, then?

Was this it?

Danny stared stupidly for a moment, forgetting to shut his mouth. And then shrugged.

Falling back on ignorance.

If he was honest, he hadn’t quite expected Lancer to be the one to put it together, but it also made sense.

Lancer’s mouth thinned. “I know they can be intense, especially with the scrutiny placed on our school now. No one should feel scared to come to school. Or go home,” he said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “This is a safe space.”

For a moment all he could hear was the drum of his heart in his chest. And then behind him, Valerie cleared her throat.

“With all due respect, Mr. Lancer,” she said, “nowhere is safe with that putrid ghost hiding among us.”

Danny didn’t turn around. Lancer’s reaction was subdued, but there was a protective fire in his eyes that confirmed Danny’s suspicions. He wondered how long ago he’d put it together.

“Ms. Gray,” Lancer said, “I see your point, but I’m just trying to ease tensions.”

Danny checked the clock.

Seventeen minutes.

Maybe he should’ve skipped detention after all.

(No escaping the inevitable. No do-overs this time.)

Valerie scoffed. “So what? We let our guard down?” he chanced a glance behind him, and Valerie’s eyes were red-rimmed—from lack of sleep or otherwise he had no idea. “Someone here is a walking weapon and we’re supposed to ignore this? Fenton at least knows he’ll be safe at home, but what about the rest of us? We don’t get to go home to ghost-hunting parents—we have to hold our own.”

Lancer nodded. “I understand. I just think that it’s very frightening for all of us, ghost hunters or not.”

Danny’s voice cracked when he spoke. “Yeah.”

Valerie’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean to make light—”

“No. No, you’re right,” he said. “It’s not safe with Phantom as a student here. Whoever he is.”

She sighed. “Danny, I don’t know what it’s like with your parents, but—”

“But what?” he cut her off. “Because they’re ghost hunters they’re automatically the safest people in the room?” He lowered his voice. “You would think that.”

She froze. “What does that mean?”

Hm. Whoops.

“People don’t know what it’s like, I guess.”

Danny turned back around. Lancer’s stare was dripping with sympathy.

Fifteen minutes.

There was a scrape of a chair, a thud of feet, and a warm hand on his shoulder. Valerie released him just as fast. When he met her eyes, they were as wide as saucers.

“D—Danny,” she said with a note of panic. “You’re cold.”

“Yeah?” he asked.

She took a step back. He hadn’t seen her this scared since they’d been stranded on Skulker’s island together. He could see the realization dawning.

“Val,” he said, knowing full well what was going through her head, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not you,” she said, a desperate plea. “I can’t be this stupid.”

He sighed and Lancer stepped between them.

“Ms. Gray,” he said, “now let’s not jump to conclusions—”

“No!” she shook her head. “No, no, no! It doesn’t make sense. You’re—your parents hunt ghosts. Hunt Phantom.”

Danny crossed his arms.

“So do you.”

Lancer looked between them like Danny had announced that he liked eating golf balls. “What.”

Tears welled in Valerie’s eyes. “I trusted you!”

The minute hand inched forward.

Fourteen.

“You trusted me to what?”

Valerie clenched her fists. “Don’t do that! Don’t play stupid!”

“Ms. Gray—”

“I’m not playing.” Danny turned sideways in his desk, facing her head-on. “Tell me what you think I’ve done, Val.”

“Mr. Fenton—!”

“You replaced him. You replaced Danny. How long have you been pretending to be him? To be alive? How can you live with yourself, going home everyday and seeing his parents and—and—acting like you’re still—” she choked on her tears. “You terrorize this town, Phantom. I won’t let you take anything else from me, or anyone.”

Lancer’s eyes were wide. He’d never seen the man so shocked, in such foreign territory.

Valerie, on the other hand, was resolute. There was as much determination in her face as tears.

“I’m still me,” he said. “I died, but I came back. I never replaced myself, however that works. I am sorry, Val. There’s a lot that—”

“Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! ”

“—that I didn’t mean to happen.”

Lancer slammed his hand on Danny’s desk.

“Can we all settle down!”

It all happened in a matter of seconds. The clock in his peripheral kept him tethered to the moment.

Valerie reached behind her and pulled a blaster.

A flash of red—

(The minute hand moves.

Thirteen.)

—and a burst of hot pain through his side.

He crumpled forward, his head meeting the linoleum floor with a SMACK and somewhere above him a distant shout.

Everything from his side to his cranium THROBBED and it wouldn’t fucking stop.

(He’d taken hits from Val before. This shouldn’t hurt so much. Why does this—?)

Iron pooled in his mouth.

Oh right.

Ectoplasm was thicker than blood.

Danny tried to push himself up from the floor but the world spun and his arms gave out below him and he slumped back down to the cold, hard floor.

The floor felt better.

Maybe he would…

Stay here for a while…

***

The television clicked on. A rerun of the six o’clock news.

He didn’t let Jazz turn it off.

“According to a recent report, there is speculation that our local ghost vigilante Phantom might be living among us. Care to tell us more, Lance?”

“Yes, Tiffany.” Lance Thunder’s stupid blonde hair was polished and perfect as usual and he wanted to wipe that stupid half-smile off the bastard’s face. “A ghost ID’ed as Walker —” at this, a crude picture that was mostly just a white blur appeared on the screen “— has publicly announced that our hero is a student at Casper High fooling us, flying under the radar.”

“And as far as we understand, tips from ghosts aren’t verifiable…?”

“Normally, yes, but there is evidence to suggest that—”

“This isn’t good for you,” Jazz hissed. “I know that it’s scary, but—”

“Exposure therapy,” he snapped back. “It’s gonna be the talk of the school anyway.”

She slumped back down onto the couch. “Take care of yourself.”

The door to the lab was thrown open. His parents marched through the kitchen and into the living room, perfectly eclipsing the TV.

“—telling you, Jack. The DNA scans are inconclusive at best. Their so-called ‘experts’ are out of their depths.”

“We’ll show them once and for all. If we can find out which student it’s using as cover—”

“—we’ll expose Phantom for the monster he is!”

His parents disappeared upstairs for the night, but he could still hear snippets of their vows to destroy him.

He shot Jazz a tired look. “Easier said than done.”

***

Someone was touching him.

Everything on his left burned. Far above him were LEDs and beige ceiling tiles. He wasn’t sure when he’d been rolled onto his back. But he was now, and someone was pressing down on the spot that burned burned burned—!

Blood trickled down his throat.

How many minutes had it been?

How many did he have left?

There were voices, somewhere, but everything sounded like it was underwater. Maybe it was. Drowning would be preferable to many of the other deaths he’d prepared for. Still terrible, sure, but vivisection lowered the bar considerably.

“—have you done!”

“He’s—” A girl’s voice wavered, quiet. “He’s Phantom. He’s not supposed to—to—”

Wow. Valerie had the decency to sound ashamed.

At least he could die knowing that his killer at least had a few shreds of regret.

(Is it sad that it’s more than he expected?)

“—little first aid.” The pain came in waves, and all Danny could hear was the rush of his stupid heart in his ears. “—expecting shootings in America, but not from a—”

Just as fast as it came, the world melted away. His last grasp on consciousness slipped away.

(As fast as the click of a button.)

***

Wes had a punchable face.

But hey—that’s what you get for talking to the press. The accusations were written off as pretty baseless, but the damage had been done. He got inquisitive stares now and again. After all, Wes was a joke, but his interview put Danny’s name on the list of suspects and that was enough to fuck his entire life over.

After his two-day suspension, Danny had little opportunity to survey his work. Honestly, more people asked him about how bad he fucked up Wes’s face than whether or not he was Phantom.

(From what he had seen, it was in a perpetual state of purple and that was enough to curb his anger for now.)

So. He had two days off from school.

Danny went to see Clockwork.

Long Now welcomed him with welcome arms, and he broke down into a fit of whines and gripes about how it seemed like everyone was out to get him, that everyone wanted to put his head on a pike. Everyone wanted to ferret out the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Clockwork shared their sympathies.

“No matter what I do, I just—I’m a wreck. I think someone’s figured it out. That they know, but then I mention it to Jazz or Sam or Tucker and I’m just paranoid and I think I’m paranoid now and—” he groaned. “I don’t know what to do. I’m losing my mind.”

“You do know that it’s inevitable that the truth comes to light.”

He froze. “What.”

Clockwork shifted from senior to adult. “Your paranoia isn’t for naught. It’s a matter of time.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

He’d figure a way out.

There had to be something.

“I thought nothing was inevitable.”

“Not nothing,” Clockwork hummed. “Often, it is nothing. But not this time.”

Their words shook him to the core. He’d suspected it, sure, but confirmation was—

“I know it isn’t fair.”

“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t fair!” Danny snapped. “Your entire life isn’t—isn’t under scrutiny for everyone. If they know that I’m me, I—”

He pressed his hands to his chest.

He would be finished.

One way or another, someone would find a way to put him on their table.

The government.

His parents.

Maybe someone else out for his blood.

(His body.)

“I can’t see what will happen past them learning the truth,” Clockwork said. “But it is a fixed point. Everything past that diverges, a thousand roads. Timelines. Possibilities. I can’t tell you what to expect. The best, the worst. I cannot offer that reassurance.”

“Oh.”

They nodded. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“I don’t want them to find out,” he said in a pathetic whine.

For a long moment, Clockwork said nothing. If not for the constant ticking of clocks, he would have thought they were frozen. But then Clockwork’s expression shifted.

And they asked:

“Would you like to know?”

***

…

……

………

Warbled voices were around him again. Different.

But this time more in focus.

“Sir, Ma’am, if you could leave the room—”

“I will NOT. That is my son, and I am not leaving until someone tells me why there is a HOLE in his chest—!”

And somewhere else, a shriek of sobs.

“We’re transporting him to the hospital, you can’t—”

“I did it,” said that same, sobbing voice. “I shot him. I shot him.”

More people were touching him and Danny didn’t like it oh god no no no —

“—get him on the stretcher—”

“—the hell DID you—”

“—Ms. Gray, you—”

“—no! I want to know why—”

“—securing him, just—”

And now time did slow.

The EMTs lifted the stretcher.

And his face lolled to the side, giving him a clear view of the clock.

The minute hand moved one last time.

Just as:

“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t—he’s Phantom, I didn’t think that it would—!” Valerie, cut off, sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Danny. If you can hear me, I’m so sorry.”

And then there was silence.

Crushing darkness.

***

If he had any last doubts that his secret was out, they were snuffed out when he woke up in the hospital to the pained faces of his parents. Jazz was in the chair to his left, hair mussed up and asleep. His parents’ eyes were red with tears. In his delirium, he also noticed Sam’s backpack discarded in the corner.

How long had—?

“Two days.”

Clockwork appeared before him in their adult form. They swung their staff, looking rather pleased with themselves. Danny then realized the occupants of the room had been frozen as long as he’d been awake.

“You’re recovering well, all considered.” Clockwork tapped a clipboard on a nearby table. “I will say, I am surprised that we took this route. It is what you might call a ‘spoiler,’ but it’s kinder than most.”

“Is it,” he said, voice hoarse.

Clockwork waited for him to finish coughing up his lungs before speaking again. “They’re handling it as best they can. I won’t say it’s great, but you’re on the way there.”

“I—what happened, again?”

And as he asked, it came rushing back.

Lancer. Valerie.

And paramedics?

Clockwork gave him a knowing smile. “Your teacher called an ambulance. In his panic, he might have let it slip that you were having a reaction because of a ghost weapon, and your parents were looped into the call.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Danny’s eyes found his frozen heart monitor, time stopped between beats. Below, his mother had tied off the top half of her HAZMAT suit and was wearing a black shirt beneath. He did notice that the contents of her weapons belt were emptied.

He turned back to Clockwork. “How did they take it?”

They shrugged. “Why don’t you ask them?”

“Wait—wait, I'm not ready.”

“How about this? I tell you how much time you have left.” They raised their staff. “Three—”

“Clockwork—”

“Two—”

“Don’t you dare!”

“Time in.”

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Valerie Gray #Clockwork #Danny Phantom Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Phicc #Phic #Danny Phantom Fic #wrwritings #angst #ectober #ectober week 2023 #ectober week #ectober 2023 #ectoberweek2023

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oblique-lane · 5 months ago

Note

more mercenary analysis, whichever merc you want <3

Not a mercenary but... Okay!

Let's dissect Pauling

Always so collected, responsible and efficient. The one who is not afraid to get her hands dirty for the sake of a goal, and her performance is always one hundred percent. What could possibly be not cool about her?

Well, maybe the fact that this all is, in fact, an act. Of course it is.

I'm not saying her determination and dedication to her job aren't sincere decisions of her heart, she really enjoys it and shines in her work. It's just a matter of WHY and WHAT she's doing it for. And on what scale.

For her, her job is EVERYTHING. Eagerly working 364 days a year with barely any rest, masochistically putting herself in so much danger, blindly following the boss's instructions, not even hesitating to kill people standing on the way...

Wow, there's gotta be something going on here.

Well, obviously the Administrator plays A HUGE role in this situation. Why would Pauling trust her so much? Referring to the comics, Pauling trusted her wholeheartedly on whatever the Administrator was planning, even though she didn't know what it was. This blind following that vaguely resembles nothing less than a weird somewhat child-to-a-mother attachment. It's just a Boss, just a job, why?

Because that's what it is. Mother issues. Very apparent.

We don't know anything about Pauling's past, so there's where the headcanons begin:

I'm assuming her birth mother was very neglectful and dismissing, never acknowledged her daughter's accomplishments and struggles. No matter how hard Pauling tried to become "worthy" in her eyes, it seemed to be never enough, as if she didn't even exist at all. Maybe her mother was a substance addict or something and their household wasn't safe and stable, so Pauling had to become an adult early and run away from home as a teenager and find a job to get by.

(I assume that because I believe there was a mention in the canon lore that Ms.Pauling had been working for the Administrator for long long years (don't remember exactly), indicating that she started working when she was still a minor).

So, being taken under the Administrators wing, her young wounded brain found a substitute for a very thing she was lacking, subconsciously clinging onto the Administrator as a newly mother figure, in order to "get it right this time".

Administrators Strictness, responsibility and demandingness were the most favorite qualities of a person of authority in Pauling's eyes, in contrast to the laziness, unaccountability and indifference of the environment in which she grew up. She could finally strive.

This time she would show the mother figure that she's worthy, she's important and irreplaceable; she exists. She would prove that no amount of hardship is too much for her if it means approval for the Administrator.

And the Administrator kind-of-sort-of gave Pauling this pseudo-love in return, encouraging her to sacrifice herself even more for their work. Which is at the very least unfair, and at most just predatory. Administrators "love" was conditional, in contrast with when the real motherly love Pauling unknowingly expected. Administrator was too immature for a mother figure, too much in power for a partner or a friend, yet too close for a formal boss. What is this!? Something not nice.

The Administrator doesn't love Pauling for Pauling, she loves her working qualities. And thus, Paulings subconscious guess was confirmed that "I'm only important when I'm doing the job. I AM the job."

Tying your worth to what you DO instead of what you are is a huge dangerous existential rout one could choose. But she never really knew her importance outside of her skills, so she wouldn't know.

Now imagine how actually painful that character arc was for her, when the Administrator proved herself to be unreliable and secretive, and when Pauling started to question her intentions for the first time.

"... Because I trusted you!"

"Then why are you questioning me now?"

It wasn't even the real conversation between them, just Pauling's mind torturing her.

It reminded me of the crisis of a 4-year-old when they realise that their parents aren't perfect; they don't know anything and they CAN hurt you.This shattering illusion of almighty love. When a child stops believing that the "harsh love" their mother treats them with is simply an abuse.

Wouldn't it be terrifying to realise in your 20s thar despite running for "the mother's approval" all your life, you will never truly get it. If your mother failed to provide it to you at such a young age, nothing will truly substitute that, especially now, when you're an adult, no one will love your inner child the way it was supposed to be loved.

Unless you yourself decide to take that role.

...

Realistically speaking, it's not nearly that sever with Pauling! She's happy in the environment she's in, there's lots of interests for her to explore (Guns, fights, killin'!) So many adventures every day! Even if Pauling has her inner suffering, it's not that bad aa I describe it. Her mother problems may actually be an advantage, a reason she is such a good and caring boss for the mercenaries.

I'm just edgying things down for the sake of the clearer analysis. But still...

If the Administrator will be gone and Pauling loses her life-dedicated job... What will be left? Who is Pauling once Mann Co is no more? Can she answer that?

References:

– A video that helped me better understand the Good Girl mask:

youtube

– "Lise Bourbeau's 5 soul wounds model: Injustice"

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enkephallic · 9 months ago

Text

Limbus Company: Deep Analysis of Sin

So, I decided to take a deeper dive into the different sin types in Limbus Company.

The TLDR Version:

Wrath - Unable to accept something

Lust - Having a strong desire

Sloth - Losing sight

Gluttony - Satisfaction-seeking

Gloom - Controlled by pain

Pride - Contempt of others/selfishness

Envy - Desire to surpass

Regarding the sinners' skills, the sin position is important as well. A S1 sin is a surface-level appearance, but S3 represents something deep inside them.

The detailed explanations are under the cut!

Wrath

Wrath, on the surface level, can present as being irritable or hard to get along with.

Wrath S1 examples

LCB Ishmael, who seems irritable and nitpicky at first.

Seven Heathcliff "Why am I doing this stupid job?"

Hook Office Hong Lu "Don't speak so softly, I'll feel homicidal"

S2 gets closer to how they really feel. The feeling of wrath comes from the feeling of "I can't accept this" - whether it's how they're being treated, how their environment is, etc.

Wrath S2 examples

LCB Heathcliff (past speculation) - Discriminated, mistreated, resenting what's happening to him

LCB Sinclair (past) - I don't want to get prosthetics

W Corp Hong Lu - Bored with his job.

And S3 wrath represents a strong rejection - they won't accept Anything they deem contrary to their own beliefs and ideals. It is a violent refusal.

Wrath S3 examples

N corp identities who are brainwashed - Kill all the dissenters and heretics.

Pequod Ishmael - "It's MY way or the HIGHWAY, god damn it!" (Throws a fit if another ID kills an enemy)

R Corp Ishmael - Hates it to the point she's looking for Singularity information of old R corp

LCB Rodya - I can't accept this armchair revolution and endless poverty. I have to kill this old windbag.

Lust

Lust in this case is a pursuit of something non-physical - a relationship, an ideal, a core element of your self. On the surface level, this can present as really wanting to be something.

Lust S1 Examples

LCB Don Quixote - Wants to become a great Fixer.

W Corp Ryoshu - Wants to be a great artist.

Sous Chef Gregor - Wants to improve his cooking.

S2 is a little stronger than just normal desire. They will willingly hurt other people or trample them to achieve their goal.

Lust S2 Examples

Tingtang Gangleader Hong Lu - Uses violence and is callous to those invading his turf

The One Who Grips Faust - Massacres Sinclair's village to get what she wants

LCB Ryoshu - Her idea of beauty ties in with violence

S3 is a little different - It's desiring something so badly on an existential level. It's pretty much what they live for.

Lust S3 Examples

R.B. Chef Ryoshu - Needs to be one of the Eight. Will stop at nothing to achieve this.

N Corp Heathcliff - Not brainwashed, doesn't really want to be. Wants to preserve his "true self".

G Corp Gregor - After an irreversible transformation, fully believes his reason to exist is to be a killing machine.

Interestingly, both LCB Heathcliff and Hong Lu have a Lust S3.

Sloth

Sloth is inaction, watching from the sidelines, not seeing what is in front of you. This can start with just simply being misguided, believing something to be true when it's not.

Sloth S1 Examples

W Corp Don Quixote - "I am working at a Wing!! CHOO CHOO!! Sally forth!!"

LCB Outis - Her piss-poor act of blind acceptance and obedience.

LCB Meursault - It is simply none of my business if Sinclair hyperventilates and vomits on the floor.

S2 sloth is more purposeful, not taking action when one should or purposefully being ignorant of reality.

LCB Faust - Does not tell Dante and the others a lot of information and doesn't stop sinners from running amok.

LCB Hong Lu - Despite being perceptive, does not seem to register bad situations as bad or react to pain appropriately.

G Corp Gregor - This feels wrong but I'll just continue with it anyway.

S3 sloth is a total loss of vision, not being able to see what's important to them. Losing sight of all they used to desire, and doing nothing about it.

Dieci IDs - Lost their memory and doesn't even remember what was most important to them.

K Corp Hong Lu - Doesn't seem to mind his total loss of freedom and autonomy, despite desiring freedom in other IDs.

LCB Yi Sang - Could not care about anything he once loved or aspired to be, until he was able to gain his wings once more.

Blade Lineage Don Quixote - Once used her strength to fight alongside her comrades, but now kills for purely her own sake.

Gluttony

Gluttony is a desire to be satisfied, whether it's something material or psychological. This can present like greed or selfishness at first sight.

S1 Gluttony Examples

LCB Rodya - "I want meat, I want money, I want to gamble!"

LCB Ryoshu - "Let me smoke. Let me do as I please."

Lantern EGO Don Quixote - Curious about the abnormalities and wanting to know more about them

S2 Gluttony is wanting more at a crucial point in their life, or desiring more than they could chew. It could also mean getting hooked into something or addicted.

S2 Gluttony Examples

LCB Ishmael - "I quit my job, I need something that's not labour hellscape... Hm? That hag can sure talk..."

R Corp Heathcliff - Began deriving enjoyment from killing

N Corp Don Quixote - Didn't even need the brainwashing, got hooked onto the N Corp ideology herself

S3 Gluttony seems to be the final stage of seeking what they desire - being satisfied, even when they shouldn't be.

S3 Gluttony Examples

Tingtang Gangleader Hong Lu - Seems completely happy and enjoying himself

Seven Heathcliff - Actually learned to like his job

W Corp Hong Lu - Doesn't want praise or a raise, just fine with how things are now

Gloom

Gloom represents pain, and how it affects how the person treats their situation or other people. On the surface level, they may appear melancholic or having given up.

S1 Gloom Examples

LCB Yi Sang, LCB Gregor - Self explanatory.

Rosespanner Meursault - Crushed by work

R Corp Ishmael - Headache, pain, does not like it here

S2 Gloom is a moment of despair, when something in their heart was broken. This may also involve guilt and inflicting pain.

W Corp Don Quixote and most W Corp IDs (Except Hong Lu and Ryoshu) - The shocking reveal of what W Corp really is.

N Corp Heathcliff - "What the hell am I even doing??"

Lobotomy EGO Heathcliff - "All my friends are dead."

S3 Gloom can represent letting their pain affect how they treat others. Lashing out, being insensitive to others' pain, or simply giving up and accepting the hurt as inescapable.

W Corp Yi Sang - Abandoned hopes for freedom, just wants it to hurt a little less

G Corp Outis - Knows she cannot escape the unfair treatment

LCB Ishmael - Lashes out and hurts others because she is deeply hurting, making it more painful for her too

Pride

Pride is the belief that they are different from other people, and so the rules don't apply to them. This can seem as arrogance at first, even if they are not actually like that.

S1 Pride Examples

LCB Sinclair - Rich boy 1

LCB Hong Lu - Rich boy 2

LCB Faust - Doesn't hide that she thinks she's better than everyone else

S2 Pride can contain disdain for other people, and believing they are better than those around them. Therefore, their actions can be excused in their eyes.

S2 Pride Examples

LCB Meursault and LCB Outis - Competent and they know it themselves. Outis thinks of her comrades as dirt and points and laughs when they die.

W Corp Ryoshu - Her art comes from chopping up the dead and deformed passengers, doesn't give a single shit about them

LCB Rodya - Believed she was special enough to make a difference and split the hag's skull.

S3 pride goes a step further - their own desires take precedence over anyone else's. They may even see other people's lives as literally the same as a blade of grass. If they want something, they'll trample everything and anything.

S3 Pride Examples

The One Who Grips Faust - Probably doesn't even give a shit about the grand ideology or her minions. Just did it because she could, and wanted to.

The Middle Little Sister Don Quixote - "I can kill anyone who disrespected my organization!"

LCB Ryoshu - Has the littlest regard for human life.

Envy

Envy can start out with the simple desire to surpass someone, to become better than others. To want more than what other people have.

S1 Envy Examples

Tingtang Gangleader Hong Lu - Began wanting to be stronger, to have more power.

LCB Heathcliff - Rich bastards are annoying, they don't deserve it more than I do

Shi Ishmael - Just wants to survive in a world of dog eat dog

S2 envy is the need to be better than what you once were, to surpass yourself and get something accomplished.

S2 Envy Examples

LCB Yi Sang - Bettered his own craft and created the mirror.

Pequod Members - Lay their past self to rest, and opted to hunt the whale.

R.B. Chef Ryoshu - Wants to make better and better pies

S3 Envy is the result of their desire to surpass - or that they have accomplished something, but with a heavy price.

S3 Envy Examples

W Corp Ryoshu - Extremely powerful, but her sword will suck up her health if she doesn't charge it properly.

R Corp Heathcliff - Gained insane power but lost something important to him in the process.

LCB Sinclair - Was able to avoid getting prosthetics but his whole family dead.

Pequod Heathcliff - Managed to get out of the Middle but is covered in scars he can't erase.

I will continue to write more specific theories, but this is how I feel about the sin affinities right now! I'd love to write about EGO and enemies as well soon.

#limbus company #meta #fan theory #faust lcb #ishmael lcb #sinclair lcb #don quixote lcb #gregor lcb #project moon #outis lcb #lcb heathcliff #lcb hong lu #lcb ryoshu #lcb rodya #lcb yi sang #lcb meursault

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patsmassivekeychain · 11 months ago

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Ok more coherent thoughts now. I can already see how this ending is probably going to be divisive and to an extent I understand why. Before it aired, I wasn't keen on the idea of the show ending like this. People don't like endings where the found family go their separate ways, except that isn't really what's happening here. And I think the way they did it was perfect.

Alison has come in and completely turned these ghosts' unlives around. She's given them purpose, connections with the outside world and each other, and above all a lack of boredom. Boredom is one of the main existential challenges the ghosts face. Alison isn't abandoning them to what they had before she came - she's leaving them with the tools to actually live rather than just exist after her.

And she's not gone forever! Families don't have to live together to be family. She comes back and visit them regularly! Maybe it's just because I moved out from my parents' in the last few years and I'm back for Christmas, but her being a regular at the hotel, coming back and visiting them at least every Christmas (maybe more) was very moving to me. Just because she's moved out doesn't mean they're not still family.

Having it become a hotel is a nice bookend and I bet it's improved the ghosts' quality of unlife a lot. As I said, their biggest challenge has always been boredom. A hotel/golf course probably isn't at all boring. How many affairs do you think Julian has watched? It's perfect for them, with all the people coming and going. I bet they even stage the odd haunting for fun. A constant, varied existence is a great fate for them.

Ending the episode with the plague ghosts was PERFECT. Obviously, it was great to see them again and it was hilarious as they always are. But it struck me just how much this decision has improved their situation - they've gone from dingy cellar to sauna. And that's the analogy of how much things have improved for all the ghosts.

Change is scary. It's sad when things come to an end. But sometimes it's for the best. And an end doesn't always mean a closed door.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts spoilers #ik i said more coherent and then just wrote a blob of steam of consciousness #but this episode WAS sad and devastating #i hope this makes people feel a bit better about it #if at least one person feels better ill be happy

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tallykale · 17 days ago

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episode 19

as you can probably tell, i've thought a lot about what post-canon one would look like in my vision... i've said before that i have issues with straightforward fix-its, and i do genuinely love the tragic open-ended conclusion that the series has, but i... am not immune to playing with characters like dolls LOL

here's some writeups about where everyone is at mentally in these pictures. please please please PLEEEASE feel free to ask me more about this cuz i love talking about my beautiful mind palace

charlotte: somehow the most optimistic person in here, mostly out of necessity. when she died, she saw parker leading her out of a cave as her waiting room and was about to take his hand when airy respawned her, so she has a brief moment of bonding with bryce when he talks about the waiting room and seeing stella. with the knowledge that there is potentially a way to get out (bryce and liam being the proof) and the fear of rotting away again she is by far the most actively motivated to help liam figure out the computer. a lot of her days are spent talking to liam over the mic and writing out the code in the dirt so she can try to understand it. she still has to push against her natural misanthropy (and often shouts at liam or bryce for being fucking stupid and useless) but both working on the code and helping amelia give her something concrete to focus on outside herself. she wants to get home so she can make amends with her friends. charlotte is scared of dying! she's really genuinely horribly scared of dying and has awful vivid nightmares about rotting away. she often pushes amelia into talking about her life which causes some tension, but it's because she really hates seeing amelia lose herself like that - a metaphorical rotting away of the self.

subway seat & atom: not on the same level of pure existential depression as the batch 1 contestants, but they both feel the hopeless mood pretty harshly regardless. subway feels very lonely as the only hidden object still 'awake', and likes to carry whippy creamy around rather than just leave him sitting on the ground constantly. tray is too big and unwieldy for him to do that with, but he 'hangs out' with her anyway, talking to her and whippy creamy in the hopes that it'll get them to want to wake up again. atom doesn't talk much, but he still carries his piece of grass. he's definitely the person who's the least affected by the prospect of being stuck on the plane forever, since he… doesn't really perceive existence in the same way as everyone else? he's an atom. but his time in the competition definitely made him view everyone else as friends, and he feels even more powerless than usual in the face of this incomprehensibly difficult problem.

amelia: falls into total hopelessness when bryce rejoins, basically seeing it as the final sign that they're never going home. still calls everyone their competition names (she actually gets into a big fight with bryce about it lol). she gets really clingy and dependent on bryce when he first comes back but it crashes and burns pretty quickly when, during an argument, bryce tells her how much he wishes he could just go back and never have let liam in and forgot about everything… which really sucks for amelia to hear, given that she's part of that everything. after that, with bryce isolating himself, she's kind of reliant on charlotte to keep her going. she blames liam for airy dying and secretly kind of thinks he killed him but just isn't telling them… she also doesn't really believe there's any way of getting out and is just kind of waiting around to die of, like, old age i guess. after how long she's been here, amelia is convinced that she has nothing to even go back to and frequently forgets details about her life. regularly cries and hates being alone. the shift markings on the side of the water tub have changed from being a way to keep track of time and stay sane to a horrible reminder of how long they've been here and how much longer of an eternity they have before them.

bryce: hates himself and liam and airy and the plane and his entire stupid fucking life. bryce is really, really fucking pissed off at liam for losing the notes and letting texty die and every other mistake he's made, and isn't shy about telling him that. as well as being angry, he's also incredibly miserable, because he was finally starting to turn his life around (he quit drinking after the plane) and now it's all for nothing - and even worse, those 7 months he spent getting better were 7 months he did nothing to help the rest of them, especially amelia. he's horribly guilty about that, and that he didn't tell amelia about the fake votes before he was eliminated… but finds it easier to just let liam take the heat for that one at first. after he fights with amelia about it he becomes a bit of a hermit, hanging out by himself next to the plug, and never responds when liam tries to talk. contemplates suicide regularly but pretty much the only option is drowning himself, and the idea of that still scares him more than staying like this forever. would kill for a beer.

liam: tortured by horrible guilt every day over a million different things. these include getting bryce pulled back into this (plus delayed guilt over getting him for real killed), letting texty die and not saying anything about the charger, not telling amelia that everything was fake, knowing that charlotte is going to die if he doesn't get really smart really fast… he's frequently gripped by fits of rage where he almost smashes the computer and has to hobble around outside with the axe for a while to blow off steam. he has really bad nightmares and dissociative episodes, made worse by the isolation and spending hours in a dark cave. liam really wants to fix things with everyone but genuinely has no idea how to start that conversation. he assumes airy killed himself (and views it as an unforgiveably cowardly move) and directs a lot of resentment towards him. he has a lot of things he wants to say, especially to bryce, but the fact that he cant talk to anybody one on one makes things difficult. spends a lot of time just reading through the code, too afraid to actually make any changes in case everyone explodes, but talking it through with charlotte at least makes him feel like he's doing something. more than he would like to admit, liam catches himself staring at the plane as if it's a simulation or a livestream.

#hfjone #charlotte stern #amelia euler #bryce hansen #liam plecak #hfjone subway seat #hfjone atom #feels wrong to tag whippy creamy and tray but theyre there too.. sort of #my art #kind of proud of these i dunnooooooo i had fun playing with a new brush and light and whatnot. Whatever. Go my scarab

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bvidzsoo · 3 months ago

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Love Me Like A Rockstar (Epilogue)

ー☆ Epilogue

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: suggestive language, cursing, smut ー☆ Word count: 8.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: mature ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: I chose no song for this chapter, so everyone is free to listen to whatever or not listen to anything at all, however, while doing the moodboard I was listening to Power and I actually started sobbing, so uh, you can give it a listen if you wish to! I won't yap here, so see you at the end of the chapter! <3 I hope you enjoy, and as always, let me know what y'all thought of the last chapter of my beloved series. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

3 months later

Spring was finally approaching, the weather having turned less harsh and warmer in the span of a few weeks, slowly painting nature in its vibrant and gorgeous colors that I would never get enough of. And we were lucky the air was warmer now outside, because in the confines of the limited space of my little studio of my Arts Club at university—which is more of a storage room to be fair—the smell of fresh dye and incense mingled together almost in a nauseating way, leaving me no option but to crack open the small window of the studio. Well, since it was so high up, I had to ask Mingi to open it as I didn’t want to get on a chair as I would have had to walk to the front of the room, and I was too lazy to do that. Music played quietly in the corner from Mingi’s portable speaker as he hummed along the melody of the song, typing away on his phone as his shoulders were slouched over, head lowered.

My eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as I bit my tongue, making sure the dye spread out evenly at the back of Mingi’s head, not wanting to leave spots of his previously platinum blonde hair. Around a week ago, he and Seonghwa hung out under the pretense of watching movies and having a boys' night in which they would drink beer and maybe compose some music, however, the next day when Mingi came over to have lunch with my mother and me, his hair was short. The long strands that curled prettily against his nape and ears were gone, replaced by short spikey hair that stuck up against his head, giving him a punkish look. My mother had squealed when she saw him, touched his hair, and then cradled his cheeks, gushing about how handsome he was, making me glare at the two as they forgot about my existence. Instead, I went and set the table and left them to their usual gossiping, shaking my head when my mother told him all about the new hot doctor at work she had her eyes on.

At times, those two would get lost in their own world and forget about my existence, amusing me, but also prompting me to give them a side-eye. Don’t get me wrong, I was beyond the moon that my boyfriend and mother got along really well, but at times it almost felt like I didn’t even exist—and before you would be like Mingi and say that I am dramatic, the fact that my mother seemed to love Yunho just as much as Mingi, definitely sent me into an existential crisis after the first time she confessed she loved the two as if they were her own sons. And about Yunho, well, yes, we’ve worked out our differences—which involved a lot of explaining, invoking buried memories, and a lot of apologies from Yunho’s side—so now we were all a big happy family—family as in not to be misunderstood, we all loved each other and had a nice bond. To be honest, I felt no mal-intent towards Yunho when after a month of dating Mingi we finally decided to sit down and discuss everything with his best friend, and I even found myself now confiding in him and asking him for advice in areas Seulgi—and Wooyoung—couldn’t help, because, after all, Yunho knew Mingi best. And Yunho’s girlfriend was an absolute angel and sweetheart, I took a liking to her quite quickly and found her love for literature rather adorable as she’d often quote her favorite characters from her favorite books.

Mingi snickered as I playfully pushed his head forward as I was done dyeing his platinum hair to a regular, darker, blonde with pink hues in it. I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he found so amusing but he cradled his phone to his chest and made me roll my eyes as I walked to the sink to wash the small bowl and the brush I used to dye his hair. Mingi changed the music to something more upbeat and a lot noisier than the music he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa made, and I came to realize the speaker was playing Limp Bizkit. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed their music too much, I preferred something more indie, but I still appreciated some of their songs. I turned on the faucet and started washing the brush first as Mingi approached me and leaned against the counter, lips pursed as he tried to hide his cheeky smile. I threw him a questioning look as I rinsed the bowl out, applying a little soap in it to wash out the dye completely as Mingi finally spoke up, “Check this out, ‘Your face is a work of art, my legs should frame it.’”

My eyebrows furrowed as I gave Mingi a confused look, quickly making him pout, “Oh, come on! It’s ‘art rizz’!”

I snorted as I placed the bowl and brush aside to dry, peeling the gloves off my hands carefully to not stain my clothes or skin, “You’ve had better ones Mings, besides, shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I mean,” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he pocketed his phone in his light pink jeans, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wore a white loose sleeveless tank top today, his biceps bulged from the action and I tried not to let my eyes linger on the well-defined muscles, “I definitely like the idea you’re suggesting—”

“As if we haven’t done that already.” I interrupted with a pointed look and Mingi just rolled his eyes.

“That’s beside the point,” And then he was smirking, leaning into my space as I rinsed the soap off my hands, “wait, are you suggesting something right now?”

“I just dyed your hair, Mingi, no, I’m not suggesting anything.” I sighed, unimpressed, as I shut the faucet off and grabbed a small towel to dry my hands off in it. You see, Mingi is rather…vocal with his needs and quick in executing them, so, I cannot say we haven’t been… active, if you know what I mean.

“Pity.” Mingi pouted for a second before he moved on to the next subject, his brain sometimes moving too fast for me to be able to keep up with him, “You remember that well-dressed woman from our last gig at Outlaw?”

“I sure do, she looked rather out of place with her pencil skirt and blouse.” I hummed as I leaned my hip against the sink, facing Mingi. He grinned and then fished his phone out of his pocket again and unlocked it, clicking on something I couldn’t see. Then, he cleared his throat and raised it to a higher pitch that was definitely mocking the woman’s voice.

“Mr. Song, I am delighted to let you know that Horizon Records would love to work with Noir Zenith, and we’d like to set an appointment as soon as it fits you and your bandmates' schedule. – Hong J.” Mingi bit his bottom lip as my eyes widened, prompting me to hold onto his wrist in excitement.

“Wait,” I said, eyebrows lightly furrowing, “isn’t this that super famous and huge record everyone dreams of getting signed to?!”

And when Mingi’s smile grew into a hug grin, I felt joy and excitement fill my senses as I grabbed both of Mingi’s hands, jumping up and down as he giggled and followed along, the two of us jumping in small circles like little kids. I couldn’t believe my ears, this was even bigger than the last record they agreed to sign with for half a year—the one Hongjoong helped out with—and once their contract was over, they could sign a new one with Horizon Records.

“That’s fucking amazing, Mingi!” I exclaimed loudly as we finally stopped jumping around, my heart beating fast as Mingi nodded in excitement, his teeth visible as he couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know, Wooyoung started running laps while screaming and Seonghwa cried clinging to me for half an hour when I told them.” I chuckled at the image in my head, but quickly realized the message wasn’t fresh. Before I could go off on him for hiding something so important from me, Mingi beat me to it, a knowing glint in his eyes, “Mrs. Hong sent the text yesterday afternoon and I only didn’t tell you about it because I knew we’d meet today and I wanted to see your reaction, so, don’t be mad, please.”

And how could I be mad at him when his plump lips were jutting out and his eyebrows raised in a manner that made him look adorable and heartbreaking at the same time? I huffed and squeezed his hands before I released them, trying to play off the fact that he already knew me so well, “I wasn’t about to get mad, I’m very happy for you and the rest of the boys, my love.”

Mingi giggled and looked away, the high of his cheekbones slightly flushed, and I grinned because I could never get over the fact that calling him ‘love’ or ‘my love’ turned him into a giggling and blushing mess. It was adorable, cute, and somehow still sexy, and before I would let any stray thoughts enter my head and distract me from the plans we had, I cleared my throat, “We should eat that pizza we ordered, it’s probably already gone cold.”

Mingi hummed but didn’t speak up as I went to walk towards the white sheet we had laid on the floorboards to sit on, pizza, black nail polish, Mingi’s pink beanie, and my sketchbook scattered all over it. However, before I could take another step, my feet suddenly weren’t touching the ground anymore as I was lifted by the waist, a squeal leaving my lips as I clutched onto Mingi’s bare arms, “Mingi! Put me down!”

“No.” He giggled against my neck and I felt his warm lips press a small kiss against my nape as my hair was in a bun, then he was running towards the sheet as we both laughed, the song playing through the speaker drowned out by our loudness. He finally placed me back down on my feet when we reached the white sheet and I sat down in a crisscross position, opening the box of pizza as Mingi took his seat across me. I grinned as I grabbed a slice, my stomach growling in hunger once again, and then I took a bite of the cheesy pepperoni pizza, making Mingi chuckle as he looked less hungry and less eager to devour our lunch for today. I extended my hand for his phone and he gave it to me without a word, I typed in his password before I looked through his playlist, taking bites of my pizza in the meantime. I found a slower beat that I liked and switched the currently playing song to that and then handed his phone back after I locked it, smiling as Mingi was flipping through my newest sketchbook which had mostly drawings of him.

I didn’t expect him to flip to that particular page and I almost choked as the pizza went down a little array, making Mingi smirk as he pulled the drawing closer to himself, dark eyes inspecting his sleeping form in the drawing. Well, the drawing looked completely innocent unless you knew what happened before it, and I couldn’t help but blush harder when Mingi bit his lower lip, pizza in his hand forgotten as he traced the blanket that hung low on his naked hips, torso on display and face serene as he had been in a deep slumber. When he looked up, he didn’t look much too smug, but there was a glint in his eyes that I had become accustomed to too well. He was in awe, but he was turned on, and I couldn’t help but stuff my face more with pizza, satiating my hunger as a means of distraction from the fact that I drew Mingi post-sex not even four days ago.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a talented songwriter and composer but a good hell of a painter.” His voice was deeper as he mumbled, taking a bite of his pizza as he glanced back down at the drawing, “I want to draw you too, to capture you in all forms and commemorate you for an eternity.”

Well, what a way to make me blush harder. I grabbed another slice as I had finished the first one as a means to stall for a second, ponder over my answer, “You’re good with your words though, unlike me. I always struggle to express myself concisely, yet to you it’s easy. You create beautiful lyrics and you never fail to capture my true nature in your songs, so I think I’ll always live on in your music, Mingi, you have already commemorated me for an eternity.”

That made Mingi blink in surprise as he hadn’t even realized that before, and I smiled as he gave me a lasting look before he flipped the page, the drawing of him playing with a kitten I had found outside my porch. Now, she was our kitten and she, obviously, loved Mingi more than me—just like my mother, I didn’t try to complain about this too, “You inspire me like none other.”

“You inspire me too, Mings.” Mingi’s smile was shy as he continued flipping through the sketchbook, less filled than my other ones as I decided to dedicate this one only to him. He’d seen the older sketches plenty of times before, yet he never failed to become shy when looking through them.

I finished my slice of pizza, dusted my hands off and made sure my cheeks weren’t greasy as I leaned towards the black nail polish, shaking it in front of Mingi with a grin, “Ready to get your nails painted?”

He nodded excitedly and handed me his left hand as he still held his slice of pizza in the right one. His thick fingers were smooth and decorated with rings, much like mine, and I flipped my left hand around to place his palm in mine. After having arrived at my humble studio once we were finished with our classes for the day, Mingi got to work and painted my nails. He had bought some new nail polish a week ago and convinced me to surprise me with them, so, the nails on my left hand were now almost neon green and the nails on my right hand almost Barbie pink. Sometime along, painting each other’s nails became a habit, something we both enjoyed doing and now we could confidently call it our thing.

I concentrated hard to not smudge the skin around his nails, eyebrows furrowed and teeth clamping down on my bottom lip as Mingi’s eyes were either on me or his nails, bobbing his head along to the rhythm of the song playing. He usually chewed loudly and I was thankful he kept his mouth closed this time, knowing that it would only irritate me if he started chewing on his slice of pizza aggressively—it wouldn’t be the first time he does it just to annoy me. As I finished doing his middle finger, his phone rang and Mingi reached over to his left side as he bit on the crust of his pizza, picking his phone off the floor as the music cut off. He accepted the phone call and put it on speaker as I chuckled and watched him take out the crust from his mouth so that he could talk.

“Hey! Song Mingi!” It was unmistakably Wooyoung’s voice as he screamed into the phone, making me concerned that Mingi would lose his hearing if he had just normally picked up the phone without putting it on speaker, “What’s up, bro?!”

Mingi snickered, shaking his head as I finished painting the nails on his left hand, “I told you yesterday that I would hang out with Y/N after classes.”

“Ah, right,” Wooyoung hummed as I leaned down to press a kiss against Mingi’s hand, making him grin as he finished his slice, eagerly handing over his right hand to paint his nails, “And where are you two lovebirds?”

“In her studio,” Mingi answered as I got to work, careful as always as I painted his pinkie’s nail.

“Now that you mention, Seulgi said something about not being able to work on her assignment in the studio because of you two.”

I scoffed and before Mingi could answer, I spoke up as I leaned towards the phone, “I told Seulgi to do her assignment not two days before the deadline, and I also told her a week ago that I’d be hounding the studio with Mingi today.”

“Heard that babe?!” Wooyoung’s voice was distant just for a second, then he snickered, “She says you’re lucky she loves you, otherwise she would’ve kicked you out of your studio.”

“My own studio.” I huffed and applied another coat over Mingi’s forefinger’s nail to even out the texture, “What a bitch.”

“A bitch that is forced to listen to her best friend’s constant bitching, who’s the bitch now, Y/N?” Everyone snickered and I rolled my eyes as there was the unmistakable sound of a kiss pressed against a cheek through the phone, Mingi and I shared a look of mild disgust as I went to paint his thumb’s nail.

“Don’t start making out while you’re on the phone with me, Wooyoung.” Mingi’s voice carried disgust but there was a hint of amusement, “Anyways, what’s the purpose of your call? You never call unless you need something or I ask you to remind me of something.”

“It’s neither this time,” Seulgi chuckled through the phone, and then there was shuffling and I knew she walked away. I finished Mingi’s nails and closed the bottle of nail polish, sitting up on my knees to kiss Mingi’s cheek as he bit his lower lip, grinning at me as he wriggled his fingers happily.

“Do not be late to Aurora’s opening tonight and wear something extra fancy, Hongjoong will have our heads if we don’t honor his fiancé for God’s sake.” Wooyoung sounded mildly annoyed but it was no secret that he loved Hongjoong probably almost as much as he loved all of his friends, however, he’d never admit that to anyone. Aurora became the name of Seonghwa’s studio and small gallery, and tonight was the grand opening. Everyone was excited about it, with Seonghwa being a nerve wreck as he feared people wouldn’t show up. After having talked to both him and Hongjoong, they agreed to display a few of my paintings in the front lobby and I was giddy and curious about everyone’s reaction to them. Nobody knew what I had handed over to Seonghwa, and he had beamed when his eyes took in the paintings, he getting emotional instead of me and making me chuckle as I hugged him tightly and thanked him for the opportunity.

“You should worry about yourself, Woo,” Mingi teased with a chuckle, “Y/N and I will look impeccable, as always.”

“That is for sure,” I muttered as I sat back on my ankles, watching Mingi with a grin as we had decided to match our outfits for the night.

“Talk to you later, we’ve got some business to attend to with Y/N now.” And then Wooyoung said his goodbye and they hung up as Mingi pointed towards the pizza with a pout, “I’m still hungry, will you feed me?”

And even if I said no and rolled my eyes, five minutes later Mingi had a teasing glint in his eyes as I fed him his third slice of pizza, smart enough to remain silent or else I wouldn’t have continued feeding him or helping him drink water while his nails dried.

Barely an hour later, when Mingi’s hunger and thirst were satiated and his nails were dry, we replaced the white sheet with a huge flat canvas that we would paint over. We had agreed on painting a scenery, something similar to the creek we so much liked to visit when the weather allowed it, but sometime along my attempts at making it look like the actual creek, Mingi’s not so painter skills came into the mix and created a—whatever that did not look like the creek. He refused to admit that what was supposed to be the water now looked like the sky, making the whole painting look like it was upside down from our standpoint, and he also kept on vehemently denying that he tried to paint a dick over the trunk of the tree I spent at least fifteen minutes on to make it look as realistic as possible. All in all, I concluded that without Mingi here I would’ve been able to finish the painting in a maximum of three hours, however, now there was no future for finding a vision in whatever we have created.

But I didn’t mind, because this was Mingi’s and my work, something we created together while laughing and talking about whatever came to our minds, the atmosphere light and joyful. I had also washed out the dye from his hair and we towel-dried it, making it look spikier than usual. I couldn’t lie, this new hair made Mingi look incredibly hot, and it took me some willpower to not jump him as he looked at me with those sharp eyes and a knowing smirk, the asshole.

“But you’ll dye it back to black soon, right?” I asked while painting clouds over the once creek turned sky now. Mingi was behind me, crouched down, and his clothes still somehow miraculously not stained. I wore my old overall knowing that I’d stain myself the second I opened a can of paint, and I wasn’t wrong at all as the edges of my pants were already stained green and white.

“I mean, do you hate this color?” Mingi asked from behind me as he dipped his brush into black, terrifying me of whatever he had in mind to do with the color once I saw him.

“What the hell do you need black for?!” I exclaimed as I grabbed his wrist, making his eyebrows shoot up in amusement.

“Aren’t artists supposed to just go with the flow?” His lips jutted out as he playfully leaned closer, my eyebrows furrowing as I was ready to oppose his idea, “You’re making me question your working etiquette, doll, I don’t find you creative enough—”

“As if!” I exclaimed only mildly offended as I knew Mingi was only teasing me, “Going with the flow and trusting your instincts is one thing, love, but having no vision or idea in mind is plain terrifying.”

“I was going to sign the top of it, but never mind—”

“Fine,” I groaned, gripping his wrist to stop Mingi from twisting away. His voice was whiney and he was pouting, not even looking at me as if he was offended. I knew he wasn’t; he was just acting up to get what he wanted. And unfortunately, it was working embarrassingly well on me, “Sign it.”

“Great!” He beamed as he leaned forward, mindful of staining his pink jeans with paint and I sighed as I shook my head, making curved lines before I colored them to make them look more like clouds. I had no idea what would become of the painting, but I certainly was eager to find out.

“Back to your hair,” I spoke up as Mingi carefully drew his ‘fix on’ signature onto the canvas, “I don’t hate the blonde but I miss your natural color, it suits you more, makes you look cuter and softer.”

“Aw,” Mingi turned back to give me puppy eyes—which he learned from Yunho, no doubt, “you like your boyfriend to be all soft and cute? I thought you like it when I get all wild and destroy—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Song Mingi.” I threatened as I sat back, brush pointed threateningly towards Mingi.

“Or what?” His crooked teeth showed as he grinned, quirking an eyebrow to annoy me further. I huffed and tried to think of a good comeback, but came up empty-handed for once so I gave him a pointed glare.

“I’ll stain you with paint.”

“Bet.”

And I know Mingi didn’t expect me to actually follow through with my childish threat, but as I jerked my wrist in his direction, the remaining paint from my brush flew off and, well, stained his white sleeveless tank top. Mingi’s mouth fell open as he gaped down at himself, and I laughed, giving him a smug look.

“What, did you think I was fucking around?”

“Oh, I’ll make you wish you never did that!”

And before I could prepare myself for whatever attack he had planned, he pressed his hand against his brush and coated it in black paint then sprung towards me, making me gasp as his thick fingers drew a cold line against my cheekbone. Mingi grinned as I stared at him in surprise, but I reacted soon quickly as I pressed my fingers into the fresh paint on the canvas and returned the favor, the only difference being that I drew a circle on his forehead with white paint. Mingi blinked once, then twice, and a mischievous grin spread onto his lips which told me that I was in trouble.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, but Mingi was fast as he dug his whole hand in green paint and slapped my ass painfully hard, making me cry out as it stung even through the fabric, making me give him a deadly glare, “Song Mingi! That fucking hurt!”

“You’re a pussy.” He stuck his tongue out and I tsked, leaning down to push my whole hand inside the red paint. Mingi’s eyes widened as I gave him a victorious smirk, eyes narrowing as he jumped up to his feet, holding his arms up in defeat.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start a war—” But his futile attempts at saving his ass fell on deaf ears as I cackled and took off towards him, making him yelp as he tried to duck and run away, making us run around the canvas. We were both barefoot and as Mingi tried to jump over the canvas, he miscalculated where his long legs would land and landed on his freshly painted signature, making him yelp again as it was no doubt cold against his feet. I laughed as I easily caught up with him and felt up his chest, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no, your white shirt is all stained now.” I fake pouted as Mingi froze, incredulous eyes looking between me and his shirt. I chuckled and clapped my hands together, deciding that my job was done here, but then Mingi was stepping back and leaving foot marks all over the canvas on purpose. I scoffed but didn’t care much, the poor painting had been long ruined. I crossed my arms in front of my chest in defiance as he dipped both of his hands in pink paint and then gave me a grin as he beckoned me over with a finger. I huffed in disbelief as if I’d hand myself over willingly to him. And he knew that because I dipped both of my hands in light blue paint and faced him again. Our stare-off was intense and calculating as we both tried to guess the other’s next step, and thinking I’d have the upper hand, I stepped in the middle of the canvas just as Mingi moved too and I raised my hands to dirty his tank top even more when he cupped my cheeks and made me squeal.

The paint felt cold against my skin and I knew it would dry it out once it started drying itself, but I was far too amused to worry about something so insignificant right now. Wanting revenge, I grasped his hair and massaged my hands well into the freshly dyed darker blonde strands, making his hair look like cotton candy due to the pink hue mixing with the light blue of the paint.

“My hair! Y/N!” Mingi whined loudly slapping my hands away, but I wasn’t finished as I dirtied his jaw, neck, and tank top too. Mingi was pouting hard and glaring at me at the same time, already sharp eyes turning sharper and full of revenge as he flushed his body against mine and cupped my ass over the fabric, gripping tightly and kneading the flesh.

“Mingi!” I exclaimed, content with being so close to him, but also annoyed that he kept going for my ass, “Leave my ass alone, you idiot!”

“You ruined my hair!”

“I told you to dye it black and not a different shade of blonde.”

“I thought you were a firm believer in people doing whatever they want.”

“I am, but you’re my boyfriend and I find you hotter with black hair.”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend and I find you hotter with my dick down your throat.”

We both paused as my eyes widened and Mingi caught himself a second later, cheeks flushing as he looked sheepish, finally releasing my ass as his hands settled around my hips instead, “Oopsie, that went too far but it’s the truth—”

He cried out as I whacked him over the head, giving him a fierce look, “Yeah? I also find you hotter gagged around my fingers—”

“We only did that once!”

“Are you afraid it makes you less masculine?”

“I agreed to let you peg me, bro.”

“I know, bro, and you fucking enjoyed it.”

“So, what’s the issue here?”

“That you keep slapping and kneading my ass, leave it alone.”

“Okay, princess, my bad.”

“You’re the princess, Mingi, not me. You’re always whining.”

“And you’re always beating me up, Y/N.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, you are!”

I scowled at Mingi and pushed him back by the chest, by no means aggressively or harshly, but his dramatic ass pretended to stumble and then he fell back, splaying out across the canvas. I huffed and pinched the bridge off my nose as he made fake crying noises, blinking up at me slowly, “See? I’m huwt.”

I closed my eyes to compose myself and control the need to kick him in the balls for being cringy, “Don’t talk like that, oh, my God.”

“Do you hate it?” He grinned evilly as I walked off the canvas, and to look at me, he turned onto his stomach as he cupped his chin and raised his legs to swing them in the air. He looked like a mess with the paint all over his hair, face, and body, some having gotten onto his pants too now that he was laying on the canvas. I chuckled and shook my head as I eyed my boyfriend, knowing that I looked probably just as messy as him.

“I do, actually, you’re only cute when you’re not trying to be cute.” I deadpanned and Mingi huffed dramatically, letting his arms fall as he pressed his forehead against them. Eyes falling on his round ass, I knew it was my time for payback, and I moved swiftly before he could realize what I was aiming for—it wouldn’t be the first time—so I quickly kneeled next to him and leaned down, baring my teeth as I opened my mouth wide. At first, Mingi jumped when my teeth made contact with his jeans and then when I bit down hard, he yelped, soon turning into loud cries as I continued to bite his left ass cheek harder and harder. He started flailing around and I pulled back with a cackle after I made sure my teeth had sunken in deep enough. But, I had no time to react as he quickly turned around and leaped onto me, landing on top of me as I fell back onto the canvas, no doubt smudging even more whatever paint hadn’t dried yet.

Mingi got on top of me, sitting on my hips as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, pinning me to the floor. I smirked as I raised my eyebrows tauntingly at him, watching his eyes slowly rake over my body to take me in.

“That hurt.”

“Fair enough, it hurt too when you slapped my ass.”

“Well, you have no right to whine so much about it anymore.”

“I do if you keep slapping it, and I also have the right to bite your ass as revenge.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed and I giggled as he slowly leaned down, placing his hands on both sides of my head to prop himself up, effectively caging me between himself and the floor. I continued looking at him challengingly as he bit his bottom lip, eyes never settling as they searched my face for even a fraction that showed that I would back down. But I wouldn’t, and he knew that by now as he suddenly smirked too, leaning so close our lips brushed against each other.

“I think I won, doll.”

“I didn’t know we were in a contest, love.”

And then he sealed his lips against mine, shutting up the both of us in the most effective way as our lips moved slowly, savoring each other’s taste and lips. Mingi shifted above me and I eagerly opened my legs to let him settle between them as I hugged his torso, hands raking up and down his back slowly as his hips pressed firmly against mine. I smirked against Mingi’s lips when his breath hitched in the back of his throat due to my fingers tangling into his short strands now a little crusty from the red paint in it, it was no secret that Mingi liked it when I pulled on his hair. He cupped my chin with one hand as he pressed his weight on his left arm, the only cue I needed to open up my mouth to grant him access. We both sighed in contentment as his tongue slowly glided against mine, my legs coming up around his hips to lock Mingi’s body against mine.

Mingi moaned when I tangled my fingers just a little harder into his hair, letting him lap at my tongue as he explored my mouth, my body growing hotter as the seconds passed by, hands slipping under his loose tank top to feel up his warm skin. The skin of his back was smooth and I pressed my nails into it as I slowly racked it up his back, feeling Mingi shiver against my body as he jerked his hips forward, making me hum against his mouth as he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and clamped down on it, sucking hard. I groaned and dug my nails into his shoulders, pulling my head back to be able to lean up and press kisses against his lean neck, his cologne mixing with the paint that was smeared all over us. My lips were hot as I parted them to press wet kisses against his flesh, sucking in the areas I knew Mingi was sensitive to, making him groan and jerk his hips forward again. With a hand slipping down to his hips, I gripped him firmly and prompted him to grind against me, Mingi’s head buried in my hair as I continued to press kisses until I reached his collarbones, gripping the hem of his tank top. He wasted no second as he pulled back just slightly, slipping the fabric off his torso, leaving it bare for me as I grinned at him, feeling his chest and abs up as he worked at the clips of my overall.

I kissed the skin between his pectorals and then pressed up on my elbows as Mingi made quick work of slipping the overall down to my waist and ultimately out of them as goosebumps covered the bare skin of my legs. We threw the overalls off to the side and Mingi was then moving back, down between my legs as he hovered above my thighs, eyes boring into mine as he pressed a feather-like kiss against my left thigh. I gulped and fisted my palms as heat pooled in my lower stomach, his lips always featherlight as he advanced higher up on my thighs with nips and kisses, sometimes licking at the skin teasingly. I knew my cheeks were flushed as I felt hotter by the minute and I shuddered when his lips pressed against my core through the fabric of my panties, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. Mingi smirked and did it once again before he licked a slow strip upward, closing his eyes to hum, and I let my fingers tangle in his hair as he tapped my inner thigh, moving away from where I wanted him most.

He sat back to undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans, and I watched in anticipation as he slipped the fabric off his thick thighs and ass slowly, in a teasing manner, bottom lip between his teeth as he was half hard already, eyes hooded once he was done with his half-assed striptease. I chuckled and he was all over me again, hips flushed against mine again as I wrapped my legs around his hips, eager to feel his heavy body press me down into the floor. Mingi’s fingers gingerly traveled from my waist up to the hem of my blouse and then he brought it over my head and arms, landing in the pile of clothes to the side. And then his lips were over mine again, licking into my mouth and biting my lip messily as he slowly ground his hips against mine, making me hold onto him as it was easy to feel him in just our underwear. One of my hands went to tease at the elastic of his boxers and, despite him talking shit about it, I knew he liked it when I kneaded his ass, the skin sensitive for him there.

Mingi moaned and ground just a little harder against me, making me burn for him more as he cupped one of my boobs through the bra, pinching the bud as our tongues moved messily without much purpose or goal, too focused on how our bodies felt with the ministrations done to it. As he pressed himself up on his elbow, the hand that grabbed my boob traveled lower on my body until it was inside my panties and rubbing circles against my clit, making me moan out his name loudly, his length grinding up against my thigh as he bit my collarbone, making me screw my eyes shut as I was throbbing for him. But he was a little shit and he only teased, rubbing but never quite letting his fingers slip inside as he chuckled against my ear, making me grit my teeth at him as I gripped his wrist to keep him pressing against my clit as my hips kicked off the floor.

“You’re wet, doll.”

“And you’re not doing enough, love.”

Mingi chuckled again and I moaned as he teasingly slipped just the tip of his finger inside, his rings cold against my burning skin, my nails digging into the flesh of his ass. Mingi groaned and pulled back, making me groan in frustration as I glared at him, but he quickly silenced me with his lips as I felt him pull down my panties, I shimmied my hips to help him get over with it faster. He grinned and nipped at my bottom lip as I pushed his boxers off too, grabbing his dick to teasingly rub at his slit, making him hiss against my lips as our eyes fluttered open.

“What? Only you can tease?” Mingi’s eyes were dark and narrowed as he bucked against my hand, my pace awfully slow in jerking him off, “I could tell you to get off me and I would go on with my merry day—”

“Sure,” Mingi grinned, lips ghosting against my ear as his voice had dropped lower than usual, grabbing my wrist to stop my movements, “but you love my dick too much to pass up on it.”

I scoffed but said nothing, perhaps a little too desperate to have it inside me finally. I hated it when he teased me too much, and because Mingi knew this, he never passed up on the opportunity to get on my nerves even when we were having sex. He enjoyed it perhaps a little bit too much. But the teasing was finally over as he had gotten enough of it, eager to push in as he lined himself up with my entrance, pressing a kiss against my lips.

“I don’t have a condom.” He whispered, eyes searching mine.

“Just pull out, I’m fine.” I circled his shoulders, embracing myself as my core throbbed, eager to have his size expand my walls. Mingi hummed and then pressed another kiss against my lips as he slowly pushed inside, having to take it slow as he didn’t stretch me out with his fingers first, the burn insistent despite our active sex life. I still haven’t gotten used to it, but I didn’t mind as it only made me wetter for him, more eager to take him. Mingi’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he kept his breath labored, concentrating on not hurting me and taking it slow until I said so. I let my fingers run through his hair as I sighed, trying to relax my muscles and just melt into his arms, pressing a kiss against his cheek when he paused abruptly, shuddering.

“You’re so tight,” His voice was barely above a whisper and strained, “I’m about to burst.”

“So soon?” I asked with a chuckle, teasing as it earned me a sharp glare, “And whose fault it is I’m so tight? Your fingers are there for a reason.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned and then pressed in fully, a gasp leaving my throat at the sudden move, eyebrows scrunching up as he pressed in deep, making me feel fuller than before. My walls clamped down against his dick and Mingi pressed his forehead against mine as I embraced him, letting my fingers tangle in the short hair against his nape. I nodded, eyes boring into each other, and then Mingi was moving, slowly at first, pulling out only halfway before he was pressing back in, sighs leaving my lips as the pleasure was slowly building up, my hips moving in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

He secured his knees better against the canvas and pressed up on his elbows, hovering over me as his cross necklace dangled in my face, and the image was way too good and hot, knocking a moan out of me as he started thrusting faster, hips slamming back against mine as our pace got faster and more urgent, our breathy moans falling against each other’s lips as I nipped on Mingi’s bottom lip. I hooked a finger against the silver chain as his nose scrunched up, hips slamming back against mine with more purpose, more power, and eagerness as he looked down between our bodies, a grunt leaving his lips as he enjoyed the view. I hooked my legs tighter around his hips and prompted him to move faster, most of my moans were swallowed as we had to remember that we were at university still, in my own studio, so we couldn’t be too vocal. The walls here weren’t soundproof like in Mingi’s studio, yet staying quiet proved to become harder and harder as Mingi started pistoning his hips, grunts turned into low moans as he slammed his lips against mine, our breaths getting swallowed as our teeth knocked together, saliva gathering in the corner of our mouths as I pressed my hands against the small of his back, my own arching off the floor for an even better angle, keening his name when he finally reached the spot that had me seeing stars.

But Mingi was a diligent man who took his time in everything he did, even sex, and if he could prolong our orgasms, then he certainly would, so I had no doubt we’d be at it for a while, subsequently making us late to Aurora’s opening. And we couldn’t have that happening, but our brains were too fogged up and busy with something else to notice Wooyoung’s insistent texts on Mingi’s phone or my mother’s call to remind me I had to be home in fifteen minutes to start getting ready. Oh, well.

Turns out, we got there just in time and nobody screamed our ears off—I’m looking at you Wooyoung—and Seonghwa was certainly overwhelmed when he saw the number of people that showed up for the opening. It was a mix of all age groups and people who knew Seonghwa and Hongjoong from different places, like Hongjoong’s employees or Seonghwa’s colleagues from his major, and there were even more fans of Zenith Noir that showed up, surprising all three of the guys. Seulgi and I stood to the side with grins on our faces as their fans swarmed them and gushed about the beautiful designs Seonghwa had displayed, some put behind glass to protect the expensive material Hongjoong’s team had worked on, and some even put out to be tried on and bought if someone desired to do so.

Seonghwa’s speech had been an emotional one in which he thanked everyone for their support and Hongjoong for believing in him and offering him opportunities he thought were real only in a far-fetched dream, and then I got teary-eyed when Seonghwa’s family surprised him with cake and hugs and praises, making me extremely happy for being able to chase his dreams. The matching rings Hongjoong and he had on their ring finger were eye-catching to those who didn’t know about their engagement, and it was Hongjoong who proudly announced it to the whole room while Seonghwa flushed and tried not to hide behind Hongjoong despite being taller than his fiancé. It was a sight to behold and I wasn’t surprised to feel Mingi cuddle up into my side and sniff loudly as he watched his friends with a proud smile on his lips, Wooyoung amusingly quiet for once.

When everyone was done appreciating Seonghwa’s efforts and creations, he announced with a cheeky smile that the next time anyone visited, the front lobby would be decorated by other artists’ works, but because I had a special request, tonight my works were displayed in the room adjacent to this. I felt my heart in my throat as Seonghwa led us towards the dark room, then our eyes met and I nodded with a small smile, biting my bottom lip as the light switch was flipped on, coating the room in light. I turned to look at Mingi in anticipation as his eyes widened, and he broke free of the crowd, hurrying inside to take in the entirety of the room, from being incredulous to teary-eyed and then looking like the happiest man on Earth, I couldn’t help it but let my heart swell in happiness and pride as I watched him chuckle and look at me with eyes filled with pure and honest love.

The soft sage green walls were decorated with two portraits of Mingi I had sketched out right at the beginning when I had met him, when I wasn’t so familiar with all of his features yet. Then it progressed to the moments I had captivated as our relationship slowly progressed into that of friendship, us sitting in his car, Mingi driving, Mingi laughing at making me flustered, Mingi’s sharp eyes watching me in a faceless crowd, Mingi up on stage shining like the star he is, Mingi gazing at me with yearning in his eyes, Mingi hugging me warmly into his chest, Mingi chewing on his bottom lip in concentration as he sat in his chair in his studio, working on his music, Mingi looking upset because I rudely disregarded everything that’s happened between us, Mingi angry because I was too stubborn to admit my feelings for him, too afraid to move on from Yunho, and at last, Mingi smiling so widely his eyes disappeared, nose scrunched up and his front teeth showing a little more than usual, pure happiness painting his face.

There was a low murmur amongst the crowd as everyone took in the sketches, drawings, and paintings, but I was only focused on Mingi and his reaction to seeing the stages of our relationship displayed through my eyes, my feelings, and my thoughts. And then, more towards the end of the exposition, there was an old sketch of Yunho I had done while still mulling over the failure of our relationship, and right next to it was a painting of both Yunho and Mingi as they sat next to each other, laughing about whatever was funny at that moment. I had captured the moment when Mingi, me, Yunho, and his girlfriend had gone out for dinner, and then I decided I wanted to paint it twice and gift it to Mingi and Yunho for Christmas. I suppose Mingi would get his sooner than Yunho, I’m sure neither would mind.

Seonghwa announced that I was the artist behind the creations and the room erupted in cheers and claps as people complimented me on my talent, but my eyes were on Mingi only as his blazer was glittery underneath the white light, matching my floor-length glittery black dress. He opened his arms and I didn’t waste any more seconds to approach him and let him crush me in his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring as he pressed his face into my hair, exhaling loudly as I embraced him back just as tightly, closing my eyes as my heart was racing. These past three months I spent next to him had been the best time of my life ever, he made me happier and feel safer than anyone else ever. He helped me get better at controlling my explosive emotions and he helped me slowly break down the walls I so defensively built up after Yunho’s departure. He made me unafraid to love and to receive love, he made me want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I wanted a forever with him.

“I love you, Mingi.” And it was the first time I voiced those thoughts, voice clear but quiet so that only he’d hear it. I felt Mingi freeze, a gasp leaving his mouth as he pulled back, holding me at arm's length as I smiled at him softly, “I love you.”

Mingi gulped as his eyes suddenly turned teary, and he cupped my cheeks as he lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, inhaling deeply as he nodded his head. He’d said those three words to me before, unafraid and unashamed to let me know how he truly felt towards me, and I finally found the courage to say it back. I finally was ready to let him know just how much I felt for him, that I loved him just as much as he loved me.

“I love you, Y/N, so much.” His voice trembled and he kept his eyes closed out of fear of having the tears escape them, and I hummed, resting my hands on his shoulders as I gently rubbed the skin of his neck in an attempt to soothe him.

“I love you just as much, Mingi.”

And he smiled, pressing his warm lips against mine with the unspoken promise that this would last forever, that this was what we both had been searching for. Safety, contentment, honesty, friendship, and freedom, a love that was honest and unafraid. It seemed like our future was rather promising, next to him, I could take on anything. We won’t forget to look at the moon tonight.

I love you, Song Mingi.

A/N: So, hello once again, I am so-so grateful if you made it 'til the end. I cannot believe I'm actually finished with this story and it's a really bittersweet feeling actually, because I am as happy as sad, no joke I kinda cried a little bit. I absolutely love the character and personality I have created for Mingi in this story and I love MC and his dynamic so much, that I find it so freaking hard to let go of them omg, what's happening to me?!

I just really really want to thank everyone who stuck around from start to finish, or from the middle of the story, or showed up as we neared the end of it, I am so so grateful to you all for being patient with me and showering me with love and making me look forward to posting. I was always so excited about a new chapter because I wanted it to be the best, and when I felt like it wasn't, you reassured me that it was and it made me really happy.

I started this story nine months ago, back on the 15th of December, which is funnily enough my sister's birthday so now I will never forget the date I posted it lol, and I find it so freaking crazy that this whole story came from a random brainstorming with my best friend in my car (@orshii), right as we finished our classes at university, brains fried off and ready to end everything, and yet, here I am, trying not to cry again ffs because of how much I grew to love every character in the story.

A little insight: the story at first started out as a random plot that was somewhat similar to 10 Things I Hate About You (which is one of my favorite movies) as Mingi was inspired by Patrick's character and our MC by Kat's, but as time went on, the story and our characters became their own and thus this is how Love Me Like A Rockstar was created. Back at that time I was also obsessed with this song, which played a part in the story becoming a rockstar!au beside Mingi acting like a whole ass rockstar during Crazy Form era lol, and even the title is inspired by the censored version of the song.

I think I made this note already too long, so I'll try to wrap it up. I really want to thank absolutely everyone who reads the whole story, to my loyal readers who were here for every chapter and for all of your thoughts and theories and for making me smile, really. Those who stumbled upon this when it's already finished, I hope you enjoyed each chapter and had fun exploring the world I created (this applies to those too who stuck around while it was still on-going) and I always appreciate your feedback, it's never too late! Thank you everyone, and I hope to see you back for my other stories! <3

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