#I could go on but this essay is long enough as is

[cobaltperun]

Genius (10) - Simple

Cairo Sweet x female (G!P) Reader

Summary: It was such a cliché, a reunion she didn’t expect to ever happen, let alone six years after she last saw you. It was supposed to mean nothing, a bit of nostalgia, maybe a brief catching up while waiting for class, it was supposed to be a small wave of nostalgia, not a tsunami that disrupted her entire life. You were her opposite, and as hard as she tried she couldn’t resist your pull.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous Part

Word count: 2.6k

-But though I smoke too much, drink just a little, you do too when we're caught in the middle-

You heard something slamming against the table from Miller’s classroom and rushed in without thinking about it. Nothing crossed your mind, not the reason for the noise, not who did it, nothing, you just knew someone in there was getting angry and you needed to get to Cairo’s side. Cairo turned to look at you and that was all you needed to see to understand things weren’t going well.

“And you brought them here,” Miller’s words caused Cairo to turn and look at him, but you focused on the slight tremble of her hand as she held her essay. “Unbelievable,” the tone of his voice made you look at him as he turned around and pointed his finger at Cairo. He looked furious, furious enough that you took a step closer to your girlfriend “I won’t even let you rewrite it, I’m failing you.”

You felt like your heart stopped for a moment. He was failing her? Knowing full-well her ambitions, her talent, how him failing her would affect her score. And you felt rage boiling within you, all the times he touched her, all the times he asked her to come and see him after classes, his lusting over her when he came to her house. You clenched your fist, itching to strike him, but you knew that wouldn’t help anyone. It would be a brief satisfaction with long-lasting consequences.

“You’re failing me? Over this? You’re supposed to teach us about censorship and why it is an issue and now you’re censoring me?” Cairo demanded, her hand clasping the essay in a death grip.

“This isn’t censorship, this is just a dose of reality you needed to get a long time ago,” he sneered, still glaring at Cairo.

What was going through Cairo’s head at the moment? You weren’t sure, but her eyes were wide, he didn’t outright say it, but he rejected her writing, not just what was written, but also how it was written.

“Give me the essay,” he demanded, approaching as Cairo stood there, stunned into silence by his words.

“Back off,” you stepped between them.

“Step aside L/N,” he glared, potentially for the first time in his life standing up for himself. Against a barely eighteen-year-old girl’s essay.

“Make me,” you dared him, your eyes meeting his in a furious glare.

And he did, he tried to push you aside and it all happened in a blur, he grabbed your shoulder to push you, you swung just as the doors opened and the next thing you knew he was on the floor, lip busted while Cairo, Winnie and the coach yelled. You could only glare as the vice principal was called into the classroom.

“Are you okay?” Cairo asked you as you, her and Winnie stood outside the classroom, waiting for the vice principal.

You nodded, taking a hold of her hand as she cupped your cheek. “Listen, don’t interfere,” you told her, now that your head was cooled down and you could think clearly you figured her silence was the best for her.

“What? But that’s ridiculous, he pushed you,” Cairo argued, and you saw panic in her eyes.

“You speak up and you’ll need to tell them everything, your essay, his promise to fail you, everything that happened. Best case scenario I walk away with a warning that violence isn’t the solution, and he gets suspended. Worst case scenario, you accomplish nothing and get labeled as someone willing to go after a teacher. This is a small place, he is a respected figure, and you’d be accusing him of heinous acts, even if the school believes you, the village will never forgive you,” it didn’t matter that she would be right, he’d still be seen as a victim by more than a couple of people. A relatively successful man, seduced by a quiet girl seeking his attention, only for the girl to ruin his life. It didn’t matter that Cairo hated this place, she still had to finish school here.

“I’m fine with that, I’m not letting you take the fall for me,” Cairo argued, hugging you tightly.

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be his word against my own. Fillmore didn’t see everything,” you assured her as the vice principal came and called you and the two teachers to her office.

~X~

“Coach Fillmore, you called me, what did you see?” the vice principal questioned as the three of you sat in her office.

“Miss L/N punched Mr. Miller, he just narrowly missed the edge of the table, I don’t know the details, I just saw the end results,” he clearly took Miller’s side, as the man did fall, but it wasn’t nearly as close to the table as Fillmore presented it.

“Is this true? Miss L/N, Jon?” she asked.

Miller nodded. “It’s true.”

“I punched him, that much is true,” you admitted, looking away from the woman.

“Why?” came the dreaded question.

‘Don’t involve Cairo’ kept repeating in your head. “I thought he was going to push me,” you tried to go for half-truths.

“I wasn’t going to do anything of that sorts, and this isn’t the first time miss L/N has tried to harm me,” he revealed, making you scoff.

“What do you mean?” the vice principal questioned.

“She once pushed the table I was leaning on, forcing me to trip and fall,” damn bastard, he clearly understood you weren’t going to involve Cairo and so he tried to make you seem as hostile toward him as possible.

“Mr. Miller, Jon, has told me about this. He didn’t want to get a student into trouble over a harmless prank, as he described it after it happened,” Fillmore added and you just slumped down, there was nothing you could do.

“Miss L/N, these are serious accusations, do you have nothing to say in your defense?” the vice principal looked at you, but you just shook your head.

“Just suspend, or kick me out, or whatever,” you sighed.

“I’m afraid this could be considered an assault, we might have to get the police involved,” your eyes widened at that, well, you probably should have expected that, but more than that, this might make it more difficult to keep Cairo out of this whole mess.

The doors suddenly swung open, and Cairo walked in without knocking. “Y/N was protecting me,” she stated as your jaw dropped, and if you weren’t as surprised you would have tried to stop her, but as it was, she just walked past you and placed her essay on the vice principal’s table.

“What do you mean, miss Sweet?” the vice principal asked as she took the essay, missing how much Miller paled.

“Mr. Miller has been harassing me, Y/N just wanted to protect me,” she sat down next to you and took your hand.

The vice principal’s eyes widened and despite Miller’s stammering and Fillmore’s sudden discomfort you could see the vice principal’s attention was entirely on Cairo. “Could you tell me more?”

Cairo nodded, took a deep breath and began. “Mr. Miller has been an author I looked up to lately, I read his book, you see. I admired him, and openly expressed that, and I will be entirely honest, at the start I did want something more with him. We would see each other before or after school, and he invited me to a poetry reading shortly after the semester started. After that he began touching me, nothing other than taking my hand, or placing his own over mine, or simply leaning over me closer than necessary. A week ago, he came to my house while I was alone, to bring me back my phone, I didn’t feel safe, but Y/N came,” she told the vice principal what happened.

“I wasn’t going to touch her, or force myself on her!” Miller quickly interjected and you watched as the vice principal’s eyes narrowed, as if the way he defended himself made things much clearer to the woman.

“Please don’t interrupt her, Jon,” the vice principal told him and turned back to Cairo. “And today? What happened today?” she asked.

Cairo looked her in the eyes. “Mr. Miller gave me special treatment; he allowed me to do an essay in the style of my favorite author earlier. I chose Henry Miller and went to him for his opinion.” The vice principal turned to Miller, disapproval evident on her face, but she didn’t interrupt Cairo. “He agreed to let me write in Miller’s style. When I wrote the essay, he told me to come see him today after classes. He was angry, threw the essay,” she motioned toward the essay on the table. “And glared at me, accusing me that I wrote porn and depicted him as a predator. He slammed his palm on my table and Y/N came in when she heard that. Mr. Miller said he would fail me, and then demanded the essay back. Y/N got between me and him, he pushed her away and she punched him,” there it was, the whole story.

The vice principal nodded and looked at you. “Why didn’t you say anything, miss L/N?” she asked, much softer now.

“I didn’t want to get Cairo into trouble. That time I pushed the table and made him fall? He was reaching over to grab Cairo’s hand,” you explained with a heavy sigh.

The vice principal nodded and began reading the essay, and you saw her eyes widening, likely at the same spot that made you furious, the spot where Cairo described how she felt while she was all alone with Miller. “All of this happened?” she asked.

Cairo nodded. “I just changed the names,” she explained, blushing slightly.

“Jon,” the vice principal turned to the man. “Miller is banned if I remember correctly. The fact that you approved of this on its own is alarming, not to mention giving a student special treatment,” she sighed and turned back to you and Cairo.

“Miss L/N, you’ll walk off with a warning this time, because you did act not only in self-defense but to protect your girlfriend. Miss Sweet, make sure you’re in the village, in case we ever need to ask more questions.

“Just so we’re clear, the first time I met Mr. Miller, he and Coach Fillmore were going through Cairo’s stuff. She left them there to go and grab a bite before his class,” you said, making it clear that his unprofessional behavior began before Cairo did anything.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” the vice principal nodded.

Cairo nodded and slowly got up along with you. There was nothing else to do here, she testified, you said what you had to say, now it was up to the vice principal and the school board to decide whether this would have consequences or not.

~X~

You and Cairo barely spoke for the rest of the day, she wasn’t angry, in fact she was surprisingly clingier than usual, pulling you along to her bedroom and lying her head on top of your chest as the two of you cuddled.

You weren’t sure what to tell her, not without her showing that she wanted to talk, so you just chose to comfort her, to hold her close and rub her back even as she eventually fell asleep like that. She needed some time to process what happened and you weren’t about to push her into talking about it if she wasn’t ready.

You did stay awake though, your mind replaying all the times you should have punched him before today. The bastard sure as hell deserved it, and you wished you punched him harder, consequences be damned.

“It’s not worth it. Getting into trouble just for him,” Cairo suddenly mumbled, but she was squeezing you hard and hiding her face from you. “But thank you, for having my back. You always do,” she whispered.

“Of course,” you held her a bit tighter as well, feeling her relaxing against you.

“I caused this,” she whispered, as if resigned to unwarranted guilt she was feeling and you despised that.

“Cairo, he is a grown man, a teacher,” even if Cairo did try to seduce him, it was his responsibility to set the boundaries, to make it clear she had no chance of success, yet he did none of that, he accepted it and worse than that, he actually wanted her. Would he have tried anything last Friday? Neither you nor Cairo could be completely sure, but his reaction to your arrival made it clear he understood what he was doing was wrong.

“I’m an adult, I am also responsible,” she argued, her hands clutching at the fabric of your shirt.

“You have to admit though, eighteen and ancient isn’t the same,” you said, finally getting a small chuckle out of her. “Nothing you did will ever be as bad as him actually wanting you,” you told her, and Cairo knew that, deep down she knew that was the truth. He may have not done anything to her, but he wanted to fuck her.

“Do you see me any differently?” she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Cairo,” you touched her cheek, making her move up to look at you and you saw the worry in her eyes. “I love you,” and that was all you really needed to say, as Cairo leaned down and kissed you on the lips. The kiss was soft, slow, yet filled with the love you felt for one another. “I love you, Cai,” you brought back the childhood nickname, just this once, just to make her laugh once more.

“I love you too, Y/N,” she kissed you again, just as softly as before.

~X~

It took a lot less time than she thought it would, but Miller was suspended, and though the school tried to cover it up the rumors spread like wildfire and now Cairo lost her anonymity. Before she could walk through the school and no one would pay attention to her, now she felt eyes on her at every possible moment.

Judging her, blaming her. You were right, even if the school believed her the village wouldn’t forgive her. All the while you and Winnie stood as her only support, never leaving her side and grounding her, reminding her that she wasn’t alone.

You and she held hands anytime you could, which, given that you only shared Miller’s class wasn’t that often, but it still helped her.

By now she didn’t listen to the students talking behind her back, or the ones that dared to say something to her face, but she knew each and every time it happened, because she would need to hold your hand tighter each time it happened. Just to make sure you don’t get into a fight for her. She wished it was simpler, she wished she could go back and never check that book out of the library, but no one could turn back time. All she could do was keep her head low, make it out of the high school, and hope things would be better once she could leave this place.

“We’ll get through this,” you reminded her softly, kissing her on the lips just before she had to go to another class. A random girl whispering an insult made Cairo hold you closer.

“Take me away from here, please,” she whispered as you separated and you nodded, taking her hand and heading toward your motorcycle.

A/N: Damn, I didn't notice how long it's been since chapter 9! Sorry about that!

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

@puta1 @minnyyminny

#cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

[skullvgirl]

buffed up like a jock geeked up like a nerd | barou

warnings. fem reader, school!au, ooc, very stereotypical high school tropes, angst no comfort

—

an's. felt like writing for him, hes so unproblematic and deserves a fic dedicated to him so here it is sillies.

"you know there's a party at reo's house tonight" nagi remarked casually, more focused on his nintendo game rather than what was happening at the lunch table.

"of course there is, theres always a party" isagi rolled his eyes, poking a fork at his food.

"yeah. he told me too tell you guys anyways" nagi didn't look up from his game too see bachira wrap his arm around isagi trying to convince him to let him go.

sometimes I can't believe this is the smart kids table...

you popped a fry in your mouth as other people discussed the details of the event ( although it was kind hard getting any details out of nagi when he was glued too his game )

"yn are you going?"

you thought about it for a moment. It was almost the end of your year and you had only been too one this year, you went with isagi and bachira but lost them during the night eventually left out of boredom.

"nah...probably not. reo can live without me "

"oh come on yn, you never go! like ever, it's almost the end of the year, learn to live a little" bachira had now slung an arm around the both of you, making an exaggerated pouty face.

you shook your head, you werent convinced. "i'll make isagi come—and I'll sneak you his notes! please?"

you looked at isagi and he shook his head. "no, really meguru I'm okay"

nagi's attention was suddenly diverted by you repeated rejection. "oh an I almost forgot, reo said yn HAS too come or else he'll convince coach to make all of varsity team is run relays."

the table was suddenly sent into an uproar at thr statement and now suddenly everyone was trying to convince you too go too the party.

although there persuasion skills were lacking.

"I'll do your chores for a week!"

"you don't live with me bachira..."

"i'll pay you!"

"I don't want your money isagi..."

"i'll write your AP English essay."

"what?" now that had gotten your attention. the words came from barou shouei. the #1 acedemic student at BLLK HIGH. and well...you weren't one too cheat but...it was barou shouei we were talking about. how could you pass something like that up?

"deal"

—

soon ehough party day was here and you found yourself outside of reo's house doors isagi and bachira at you sides.

"well?" bachira said excitedly "what are we waiting for?" the chaos took over quickly, bachira had somehow been roped into getting body shots from the cheerleader girls and isagi was lying blackout drunk across the kissing couch—which did I mention reo and nagi were kissing on.

"and this is why I say no too the parties..."

seeking a moment of peace you went back to your original spot. the front porch steps. you looked around the space for a moment before pulling out the cart you kept handy.

"didn't take the straight-lace, straight A student for a mmoker" And of course that's when Barou approached, a rare smirk playing on his lips.

you sputtered and coughed on the air, immediately fanning away the smoke although it was evident you had been smoking. "I don't"

You stood up abruptly but wobbled from the speed. Barou was there too catch you. "Woah careful there...don't want our pot addict getting injured now do we..." he gleaned.

was he...? "Dont tease, I've already had a long enough of a night..." You sat back down and leaned against the railing.

"My bad, my bad....do you mind?" Barou motioned with his hands and you nodded for him to sit down, his hands dug in his pockets too reach for something you didn't expect.

"Wow didn't expect the D1 soccer player too be a nicotine smoker...."

Barou didn't answer, a sound you were familiar with. "Guess were both addicts then."

"Guess so..." your eyes felt hazy as Barou puffed on his cigarette, his hair was down today and it was long and beautiful as ever.

"Thanks for doing my eassy by the way...it's a huge chunk taken off my plate" Barou didn't answer, only glancing over at your figure tentatively nodding his head. The two of you sat quietly on the porch for a few moments longer—and your not sure how long it had been but eventually you realized you were staring at barou way longer than nessecary.

maybe it was the weed that made you so confident too ask but suddenly something dawned on you.

"barou not too sound like a stalker or anything but why did you offer in the first place...i mean we all know you don't really mind running relays like everyone else."

Barou was quiet for a moment, then squished the light out his cigarette before answering. "Why?" you nodded your head. "So i could do this"

Barou's touch was warm, his presence comforting as he kissed you, it was sweet and smoky and nothing like you'd ever felt before. You wanted more.

Fuck.

What did you do? It was the day after the party and your could have sworn there was a lingering high that made you so confrontational.

"About last night..." you started, but Barou interrupted.

"It was a mistake," he said, his tone cold. "We were caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again."

Oh!

Oh.

"Right, it's better this way."

You struggled holding back tears.

Fuck.

an's. last post with this theme btw, I couldn't resist, m sorry. also this was sooo rushed, also very sorry.

#fanfiction #blue lock #anime #skullgirl #bllk headcanons #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk x you #baroushoueiheadcannons #barou fluff #barou shoei x reader #barou x you #bllk barou #barou bluelock #blue lock barou #barou shouei #barou x reader #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #angst #barou angst #hurt no comfort

[avelera]

The Curious Absence of Masculine Pride and Competition : Diagnosing Why Male Characters Sometimes Feel OOC in Fics

For all the mockery that's been leveled at male writers fixating on the sexiness of female characters with lines like, "she titted boobily down the stairs," (deriding how male authors have POV female characters thinking about their own boobs an absurd amount) I think it's worth noting that female* writers often do the same for male characters, just not for physical traits, but rather for emotional openness, humility, and vulnerability.

(*There's going to be a lot of sweeping generalizations in this essay, but the gender nomenclature is being used as shorthand and is intended inclusively. Likewise, any mention of "cultural norms" is from a US/Anglosphere perspective and not intended or expected to speak to all experiences.)

Men in female-written fanworks often cry a lot more than their canon counterparts. They're emotionally available and vulnerable a lot more often, especially with their romantic partner. They're more permissive about letting another person tell them what to do or letting someone else see them in an emotionally or physically vulnerable state.

This is not a criticism of works that do this. Oftentimes, what fic is specifically addressing is a desire to see something that isn't in canon, or isn't in canon as much as the writer would like, and that often includes a character opening up in an emotionally vulnerable way, especially to their lover.

But, if you've ever wondered why a male character in fic sometimes don't feel quite right, please feel free to read on. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this, mostly to address OOCness in my own works, and I wanted to share my thoughts with those who might have puzzled over this question as a reader or as a writer.

(Some fandoms mentioned below the cut: Our Flag Means Death, Captain America, and Punisher.)

Let's start with a common scene: a male character has gone through an incredibly difficult time, fighting bad guys, losing loved ones, or going through a stressful experience. Maybe they're falling in love with another character but don't know if that love is reciprocated. Everything would be so much easier if they would just talk about their internal conflict!

Then the man gets drunk. Finally, while inebriated and crying into his cups, he admits he's in pain, or that he's in love, or that he's scared. This is an emotionally powerful moment that reveals a lot about the character and fandoms tend to eat that stuff up. Yet, when fanworks include this character, they include facts we learned from that time they were drunk, but they don't get the character drunk. The character just says the same things.

The vulnerability of that male character's confession has been included in the fanwork but the obstacles to him being vulnerable and the build-up of what it took for him to reach a point where he could be vulnerable have been largely removed.

I can give a few examples, like Steve in Captain America 1 going to get drunk to deal with the loss of Bucky, only to find he can't which means he's struggling to open up even with Peggy about what Bucky meant to him. Or the often derided need for war movies to put men into extreme scenarios just so they can hold their buddy as he dies. Women sometimes tease the emotional constipation of the need for a man to get drunk or be in an extreme situation before he can hug his male friends, but men I've spoken to like my partner find those moments more true and resonant than scenes common in fic, where male characters start weeping about their feelings the moment they're asked. That's because there are a lot of social restrictions around showing vulnerability to other people, especially other men. And as cathartic as those moments might be on screen, they're also rare. This adds to the power of the scene when an emotionally closed-off or intimidating action hero kind of guy suddenly opens up about the pain he's in, but it's not just a deliberate use of scarcity to make the moment resonate.

The thing is, you'd never know how rare it is for a male character to cry or open up about his feelings based on how often they do so in fic. To go back to Steve Rogers in the MCU as a character, I think the man gets maybe one scene per movie where he has a short, stilted dialogue with someone very close to him about the pain he feels or the fears he has? Those moments are heightened because they're rare but they're also kind of realistically rare. A lot of guys just don't go "bleeding" all over the place. It's kind of a huge problem societally, actually.

To go to another example, I've seen a lot of fics for Our Flag Means Death predicting Season 2 and a lot of them have Ed as an emotionally shattered mess because of Stede's perceived abandonment. Now, OFMD is a very unique story in how often it does allow its male characters to be vulnerable. Fic writers can point to moments on screen of the characters crying and being vulnerable with each other, not the case with every fandom source material. But, I think what's being overlooked is that in Ed's "blanket fort" scene and in the final shot of him sobbing in Stede's bed, he is alone. He has hidden himself rather than be seen crying in public. When he does come out of the cabin to sing about his feelings, he specifically notes how scary it is to be emotionally open like that and Izzy as the voice of Masculine Restrictions shuts him down because of it, showing that there was a reason in Ed's mind that was confirmed by the narrative for why he might want to hide those feelings and that vulnerability from the world. It's not right, it's not fair, it's not the way things should be but that's not the point. The reason Ed opening up was powerful and a singular moment was because it was in spite of those societal restrictions and norms.

Men in general aren't being constipated with their emotions and their emotional truth because they're being deliberately difficult. They do it largely because there is a lot of cultural pressure put on the need to do so and a lot of social punishment leveled at those who cry in public or admit something hurt their feelings. This is where masculine pride comes in to, the need to be seen as strong is a huge social imperative thrown at men. The need to be the best at what you do, to not show weakness, and to show constant strength and mastery are enormous burdens they're expected to uphold.

On the one hand, it's why moments where those restrictions shatter are such catnip to fic writers, but on the other, I think it should be noted that they're catnip scenes because they're very rare. Works written created by men spend a lot of time building up to those moments and earning them, not letting a guy cry until his buddy dies in his arms, not letting him say what's going on or that he feels weak unless he's impaired with alcohol or in some other extreme situation like locked up in an elevator with another character until they finally admit what's going on inside them.

Now, let's get into the craft of writing for a second. One thing writers, especially newbie writers, struggle with is obstacles. Obstacles are what stand between your character and their goals. They can be emotional or physical or mental or symbolic. How a character deals with obstacles is what makes us get to know them and get to like them, it's how we learn about who they are as people. Stede and Ed from OFMD, or Captain America, or any other character you can think of would all approach a locked door in a different way. That locked door is an obstacle to what they want: what's on the other side of the door. How a character approaches the locked door tells us who they are. Do they shoot the doorknob? Bash through it with their shield? Test the knob and sigh comically when it's locked? Pick the lock? Do they go around back and look for another way in? When the character gets through the obstacle, the audience experiences a certain amount of catharsis and pleasure, if the creator has done their job right.

Now, masculine pride and social restrictions are an obstacle to the characters getting what they want. A really delicious and tantalizing one for many, especially if you're writing romance: what will it take to get this guy to admit he's in love? Some fic writers though want to skip cracking open the hard outer shell and just go straight to the juicy vulnerable center. And that's ok! Maybe you don't want to write an entire novel about Frank Castle, the Punisher, or any other macho tough-guy character getting worn down to the point he breaks down crying about the pain he's in. Maybe you just want to write the scene where he sobs in the arms of his best friend about it, just go straight for the catharsis.

But, if you're writing a longer work and you can't put your finger on why the Punisher feels out of character, well, it's because a tough guy character like that usually doesn't want to open up. It's gonna take some intricate rituals for him to be allowed to touch the skin of another man or a woman for that matter. These obstacles to him opening up tell us more about the character and they also serve as the meat on the story for the audience, who wants it to feel special when this guy finally does open up. If he was bleeding his innermost feelings and emotions all over the place, those moments wouldn't feel as special, or realistic, or important. Fic writers who just want more of that moment understandably write fics that just go straight for the pay-off, but the wait and the rarity of that moment is what makes the character, especially a male character, feel in character and plays to the traits like being the strong, silent, stoic type that attracted people to that character in the first place. Therefore, keeping or including or simply being mindful of those obstacles to a male character being emotionally vulnerable also plays to why people liked those characters in the first place and will make your story feel more authentic.

Aside from emotional vulnerability as something men avoid showing, there's also male pride as a motivator. A guy who sets out to be the very best at something probably has a fair amount of masculine-typical pride motivating him or as a trait the creator of that character keeps in mind while writing him.

Stede from Our Flag Means Death is a fairly effeminate man and that's actually a pretty big plot point. It's a plot point in how it makes him lash out at those like Nigel Badminton who don't take him seriously enough, and his wrestling with what it means to be a man is a huge part of his emotional journey in the show. If he just wanted to go to sea, he could have run off and joined someone's crew, but instead, he built a ship and styled himself as a captain, and worked as best as he could to be worthy of the title of "Fearsome Pirate Captain", often to hilarious results, but again those obstacles to him being what he wants to endear him to us. But make no mistake, he wants to be those things. He wants to be his own version of the masculine ideal of a powerful leader, killing with kindness instead of weapons, but he still wants to be one.

Conversely, Ed in the show wants to be soft but it's a jealously guarded secret for him, because he has succeeded in the masculine ideal of being a fearsome pirate captain, and felt incredible pressure to hide that he wanted softness in his life. Even as he was trying to overcome those masculine restrictions he was intensely aware of them.

If one were to write these characters without them being aware of masculine desire to be a fearsome pirate captain and masculine fears around being seen as wanting softness in their life, that makes them behave a certain way to hide this about themselves, they'd be missing a huge chunk of what makes these characters tick.

Again, I don't want to tell people how to write fic. But for those this resonated for with an eye towards their own writing, keep in mind the qualities of masculine pride and competition when writing male characters, as something they're at least aware of even if they're not concerned about it within your particular story. These societal imperatives and obstacles are minefields in the lives of many men and are built-in as expectations for many male characters, especially those by male creators. To ignore these qualities and expectations will make the character somewhat OOC, it might make them behave differently in your story than they might in canon, if canon-realism is what you're going for.

Consider talking to a man in your life about how another man would react to a certain situation, what it would take for them to be vulnerable, or how they'd react if another man saw them in a vulnerable situation. Cis male writers aren't the only ones who get other genders wrong and while it doesn't have to be a consideration your fiction takes, it can help one write more realistic male characters to ask these questions and include these common emotional and societal barriers to vulnerability in your work.

#writing #maggie rambles #ofmd meta #long post #I could go on but this essay is long enough as is

[chibishortdeath]

Haven’t drawn him in his CV1 era design in a while. I think his neck is a little long lol, but otherwise I’m pretty happy with this doodle :3.

#castlevania #castlevania games #simon belmont #art post #akumajou dracula #castlevania nes #my art #fanart #castlevania fanart #doodle post #yeah not a whole lot today but it’s something #I keep telling myself that I’ve gotta get more comfortable with just posting one image every so often #sometimes one doodle is enough methinks #anyway hehehe I love drawing Simon hehe #I always give him this air of anxiety everytime idk why but it just happens #maybe cause like being brave implies being scared #I would LOVE to go on some long rant about how I usually characterize him but like #I gotta get all of the ideas together and making sense first 💀💀💀 #I have sooooo much to say tho I just #I could write so many YouTube video essays about this little guy who doesn’t speak my god—

[umbrify]

realizing it is probably better to Use The Askbox For Its Intended Purpose than to attempt conversation in tags ^^; anyway. YEAH I WOULD LOVE FWHIP THOUGHTS. MY LITTLE GUY. MY DUDE. I LOVE HE. fwhip's throughline IS SO VERY MUCH AVOIDANCE YOU'RE SO RIGHT (haven't seen scott s1 so can't comment on that yet). feel free to elaborate on any of [fwhip's avoidance, the thing about fwhip instinctually shooting sausage, fwhip's relationship to the rest of the WRA]! (also, 13:05 - 13:12 on the twelfth episode in fwhip's e1 playlist, "MAKING PEACE and NEW SKIN!", has the moment with the bow, if you're curious)

Ooh yes, okay. I’m gonna go into Empires season one fWhip and the Wither Rose Alliance, how fWhip handled the rise of Xornoth and the proceeding corruption of Sausage, as well as Sausage’s curing, and the reconciliation of the WRA. Basically, I’m gonna talk about why I love the WRA so much, as well as highlighting some really interesting character moments for fWhip, and his overarching theme of avoidance. Welcome to my Ted Talk.

(If you’ve only ever heard about empires season one through osmosis, or never watched any of the Wither Rose Alliance POVs— fWhip, Gem, or Sausage, this might be a good way to kinda figure out what their deal is. I ended up explaining a lot of context for things, for the sake of saying what I wanted to say, so I feel like it’ll be comprehensive even if you don’t have much prior knowledge of season one.)

At the start of the season, fWhip and Sausage got pretty close pretty quickly. They were partners in crime, if you will, each often helping each other out with various schemes and pranks, such as fWhip helping Sausage get back at Pix for stealing Sausage’s villagers, [fWhip e9, 7:18], even before the proper foundation of the WRA [fWhip e10, 17:25]. Which is to say, they were very close, even before everything went down. After fWhip steals the Codfather head— which he seems to be happy to deflect partial blame onto Gem for, trying to avoid any accountability— the WRA together gear up to create a sort of trap vault, to secure the Codfather head.

The tentative rise of Xornoth began before the vault was constructed, with fWhip having an encounter with the demon happening just before the vault plans were solidified, in his episode 17. In that episode, he makes a log of things he knows about the demon, including a list of things the demon seems to like, which includes two notable entries— “I think [the demon] likes MythicalSausage? And, they really like the idea of the dragon being killed […] they really dislike the dragon. I think their goals are […] the death of the ender dragon, it really keeps coming back to that, and they keep saying, if we kill the ender dragon, they’re gonna be free” [12:43].

This, combined with the need to create a secret vault, would ultimately result in the items being hidden in the End. fWhip, tasked with finding the location of the vault, decides on hiding the items this way, saying “With everything, especially the demon being so scared? Of the dragon? I feel like leaving the Codfather’s head with the dragon, as like a final form of defense, might not be a bad idea. Because, then Jimmy will never be able to get it. He’ll never be able to get it. Nobody’s gonna be able to take out the dragon” [17:21]. He presumes that everything will be safe with the dragon, that nobody will be able to take it down.

Meanwhile, Sausage seems to have almost made friends with the demon. When fWhip visits him to bring him some firearms, he says “Xornoth is uh, is planning some things, it’s great! […] For the demon! For armageddon!!” [fWhip e17, 30:20]. fWhip becomes, understandably, somewhat nervous, yet even here he still seems to… deflect. He laughs, nervously, telling them to have fun, before heading home. fWhip flies off, saying “What a weird guy— people say I’m the evil one. Quite worried about him.” fWhip sees that something is… definitely wrong, with Sausage, and yet he still can’t bring himself to properly have that confrontation. He’s avoiding it, maybe just hoping that things will turn out alright.

Another moment right in this era that I think about often, that I’m not sure where else to put, is the moment where Sausage and Gem have a brief stand down, when Gem says that she’s the most powerful wizard on the server, to which Sausage bites back that she only is for now [fWhip e18, 32:40]. This happens right around when Sausage was starting to get corrupted, and Xornoth promised him great magical power— power that Gem had said he would never have. And I think often about this moment, in the context of the WRA as siblings, right— you’re fWhip, and you’re standing there as your younger brother and older sister are doing the magical equivalent of holding guns to each other’s heads, and just… how do you react? What do you even do? He’s not sure, which leads to that horribly nervous little song he sings, and it’s just… god. It’s so much. Caught in the middle of all the things he’s been trying to look away from, unable to do anything as the two most important people in his life are a hair away from taking each other out.

Finishing up the final preparations on the WRA vault, fWhip expands on his reasoning to hide the Codfather head in the End: “Right now, the only way out of the End is either by killing the dragon, or by jumping into the void […] there’s a little bit of a demon, on the server right now, who keeps trying to tell people to kill the dragon to unleash it upon the world. And, there’s one thing I’m pretty confident in: Jimmy does not want to free Xornoth. And, well, at this point, neither do I. So, if I put the cod head in there, I think Jimmy’s gonna find an ultimatum where he’s like, hm, nope, I can’t get it back. Or, if he does, and he wants to bring it to the overworld, he has to unleash the most evil thing, on this entire server, into the open. So, uh, hopefully he doesn’t do that. I think he’s smart enough” [fWhip e19 9:43]. He tells Gem about the plan later in that same episode, to which she agrees that it seems like a good plan. The idea is foolproof. Surely, Jimmy won’t risk the entire server’s safety, all for the cod head, right? It feels reasonable enough to assume that Jimmy wouldn’t willingly doom the world by releasing the demon, and that’s something that he banks on— it’s the perfect way to get rid of the Codfather head, in a way that Jimmy can never get it back. Surely, nobody would be so foolish. Problem successfully solved!

Right?

Wrong. But… it wasn’t just Jimmy.

The collapse of the Wither Rose Alliance, in fWhip’s episode 20 [4:10 - 7:28], is what finally forces fWhip to really face what Sausage has become. Xornoth demands a sacrifice to allow the WRA to escape the Nether, and Sausage, imbued with the power of Xornoth, takes Gem out quickly. As fWhip is left alone to face an invincible Sausage, Gem pleads with Xornoth: “I was sacrificed! You have to let fWhip out!” Of course, it’s to no avail, and fWhip is forcefully dragged out of hiding to face Sausage once more, being taken down. fWhip and Gem reconvene in Mythland, where fWhip hides Sausage’s dog Bubbles in the ground. Sausage returns, demanding to know where Bubbles is.

This moment, right here, is one I find very chilling. fWhip, a character who so often avoids direct serious conflict, one who worries for people on the sidelines, takes his stand. While Gem demands their stuff back, he says “I told you, [Bubbles is] gone until you get rid of the demon.” He knows this isn’t good, that Sausage is making a mistake siding with Xornoth. He tries the last ditch effort he can think of to get his little brother to snap out of Xornoth’s control.

It’s not enough. Sausage begrudgingly returns their things, and as the two sort through their jumbled items, Gem mutters that they can’t be allies anymore, after this. fWhip agrees, with a haunting certainty, “Sausage, you chose a side… you chose a side. […] We tried to save us all, you chose.” The two stand on the bridge in Mythland, opposite Sausage, and fWhip says it seems like their endeavor that day may have been their last, as an alliance. Sausage shouts for them to leave, and as they take off, Sausage swings, hitting fWhip.

Gem and fWhip fly off, without Sausage. As they make their way back to their lands, fWhip says, in a shaking voice, “Gem, it’s back to just you and me here,” to which Gem assures that they’ll be fine, that they’ll stand up for each other. He quickly accepts her words, saying “Yeah, it’s— it’s all good, it’s all good… it’s all good. He— he took the powers of the demon to kill us, there, that is— that is one too— one too far. That is— it’s one too far.” He’s afraid, having just firmly ousted one of his oldest allies— his own brother— from his oldest alliance, despite knowing that it was the only thing he could’ve possibly done. There was no other option… and yet, he barely gives himself a single sentence to essentially mourn that loss, before he’s trying to pave back on the mask of indifference— look away, avoid, avoid— it’s fine, he says, it’s all good, as if he didn’t just have to do the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life.

But it’s not over yet. Not even close.

(Continued under the cut. This got Really Long)

In that very same episode, a meeting is held [16:30 - 18:03] where fWhip and Gem happily tell the others about how they hid the Codfather head in the end. Everyone else is, of course, terrified. Scott tells them that Jimmy’s just gonna kill the dragon to escape, and that if Xornoth is released, it’ll bring about an eternal winter. Gem and fWhip, realizing they’ve messed up, devise a plan to prevent the Cod Alliance from killing the dragon— they need to heal it, keep it alive at all costs. Gem insists to everyone that they have to be a team, that even though they’ve messed up, that they can fix it.

It’s now or never. They head into the End.

[End scene from 19:20 - 22:57] fWhip immediately flies around to the main island, before stepping down onto the bridge in front of Jimmy. He begs, pleads for them not to do this. “Jimmy— Jimmy, I’m sorry. Jimmy— Jimmy— I’m sorry, Jimmy, we need to not kill the dragon here.” Jimmy demands the Codfather head, and fWhip immediately agrees to return it, reiterating that they must not kill the dragon. It’s this— this moment of being immediately and forcefully thrust into the face of the problem he caused, the problem he’d been trying to avoid, by hiding the Codfather head away in a place where he was sure that Jimmy would never dare to go. It’s this moment of fWhip pleading with Jimmy, to please, please not do this— they’ve lost so much to this demon, they can’t let this happen. He can’t let the demon be freed because of his mistake, he’ll do anything to prevent it from happening. The absolute, terrified resolve of a man faced with a problem he can no longer run from.

Jimmy says he’s gonna kill the dragon, barging past fWhip, up the main island. Chaos breaks out, and fWhip leads Jimmy down, beneath the portal frame. Jimmy says it better not be a trick, and he assures it isn’t, voice panicked. He returns the head, and begs them not to do this, in a soft, shaking voice, “We gotta keep the dragon alive, don’t— don’t let— don’t let Sausage kill it, don’t… […] Chaos, chaos is coming, we can’t— we can’t let the dragon die.” The fear, and absolute certainty… he can’t let this happen. Can’t let his mistake ruin the world.

Jimmy, uncertainly, says “fWhip, I think, whether you like it or not, this dragon is dying.”

fWhip desperately attempts to prevent the dragon’s death, to no avail. Chaos, as the two sides wage war in the end, with Jimmy caught conflicted in the middle. Sausage and Joey, corrupted by Xornoth, cheer for the carnage.

From the moment the Codfather head was stolen— perhaps even from the moment Jimmy started a confrontation with Sausage at all, all that time ago— it was too late. Xornoth would be released.

In a single episode, fWhip’s entire world is turned upside down. The WRA is shattered, the world is fast approaching an eternal corruption, and… he doesn’t know what to do. Gem says they can fix it, that she has the dragon egg, but… what else can he do but to just… shut down. He turns away from it— from Sausage, from Xornoth, from everything. He avoids it all— doubles down on the construction of his city, Eastvale, resolutely looking away from everything else.

With Xornoth freed, and Sausage well and truly corrupted, fWhip becomes extremely cold towards Sausage, to the point of being openly defensively hostile. The brother that he knew… that isn’t Sausage, anymore. One of the best examples of this can be seen in Sausage’s episode 32, 12:54, where Sausage and Pearl go to invite fWhip to their arena. fWhip answers the knock on his gate with a drawn bow, immediately and coldly asking what they want with him, even as Sausage still greets him as a friend. While fWhip is willing to speak to Pearl, he refuses to even entertain the idea that Sausage isn’t here to hurt him, shooting him a few times throughout the conversation, to the point where Sausage is sent away from the gate so that Pearl can speak to fWhip alone.

And… god, isn’t that just so much? You’re fWhip, and whatever thing is possessing the person in front of you, he isn’t your brother anymore. He’s not your friend anymore. He’s not safe, and you’re not safe with him here, even though… he used to be one of the safest people for you to be with. Not anymore. That’s not him, anymore.

And, it’s not unwarranted, with Sausage later saying to Pearl “I try my best around him, but sometimes I just wanna choke him out, Pearl” [15:24]. Yet… Sausage still greets fWhip as a friend, at first. Still tries to talk to him, insists that he’s “not evil today,” and… well, Sausage really did still care very much about the WRA, even while corrupted.

In Sausage’s episode 33, he opens by reading his last will and testament, knowing that soon enough he’ll be taken by the corruption. Within his will, he writes out things that he wants the other emperors to have, should he not return: “To fWhip, you can keep all my deepslate redstone ores… I don’t know what you want them for, they’re kind of useless to me, but… I kept a lot, […] Gem, you can have my great staff of Mythland. Uh… in your hands, it’ll probably be very effective. And to the Wither Rose Alliance, you can have access to my iron farm still” [1:07]. He still thought about them… still cared about them. The fact that Sausage kept collecting deepslate redstone— something that fWhip loves and cares for very much, for the sole purpose of giving it to him, even though they were on such horrible terms… I think about that. He loved them, even still. Even through the corruption, he loved them.

Gem never turns her back on Sausage in quite the same way fWhip does. It was she who cured him, in the end— killing him, at his own request, voice corrupted as he struggled against the influence of Xornoth. She finds him in Mythland, after he’s free from the corruption, and asks if he’s okay, saying she’s so glad to have him back again. He shakily asks her if he can be back in the alliance again, now that he’s cured, and Gem says “We’ll have to talk to fWhip about it, how about for now, you just… heal up over here” [Sausage e33, 33:25].

Gem knows that she forgives Sausage, that it wasn’t his fault. But… she also knows fWhip, and she knows it won’t be so easy for him, that it’ll take time. It has to be his own choice, in the end, to forgive Sausage for everything he put them all through.

Gem brings fWhip around to see Sausage, now that he’s uncorrupted. [Sausage e34, 24:00 - 34:25]. Once fWhip realizes that Sausage is there, he draws his bow, asking coldly why they’re here. Sausage asks what’s going on, and Gem says she’s brought him fWhip. Sausage is immediately distracted by Gem’s wizard hat, and fWhip happily jumps on the bandwagon of teasing Gem. Gem tells fWhip that Sausage is cured, and while fWhip is skeptical at first, having to kill Sausage himself to make sure he’s no longer unkillable, the three seem to fall back into their old patterns. Gem sends the two running into the river, lightheartedly chasing them with her sword, and as they both climb out giggling, she says “I missed this.”

This scene, this moment of the WRA, finally back together again after so long, it’s so… god. They’ve been apart for so long, they haven’t been able to hang out and laugh with each other, and this is the first time in so, so long, that Sausage has been able to hear that light in fWhip’s voice again— that he’s been able to speak to fWhip on any terms that aren’t cold and callous and unloving. They have each other again, they have their family back, unsteady as it is.

Sausage asks if he’s back in the alliance, and Gem says it’s up to fWhip. He seems… uncertain, but says that Sausage can be tentatively back— like he’s still nervous, still feels like something could go wrong. The three of them agree that Sausage owes them both three favors, and then he’ll be back in the alliance for real.

In Sausage’s episode 35, fWhip cashes in his first favor [9:30 - 10:17]. He asks Sausage to come by to help him with something, and as Sausage flies in, fWhip immediately shoots him with a flaming arrow. Sausage flies away, circling around before making his way back to land near fWhip. fWhip greets him with that old harsh coldness, a curt “Hi, can I help you,” how fWhip used to speak to Sausage, while he was corrupted. Sausage says he didn’t come to fight, that he’s good now, and fWhip lets out a slightly nervous laugh, saying “oh, right, right… sorry, sorry, I’m still just a little… it’s gonna take a while, it’s gonna take a while— you can’t just expect me to like— just like, forget, instantly, right? It was just— you know,” fWhip trails off, and Sausage says that fWhip hit him in the face, to which fWhip laughs, slightly, before restating his initial greeting in a much more friendly tone.

And it’s just… god. Isn’t that so much? Isn’t that So Much? Like, you’re fWhip, and you see your own little brother coming, and your immediate instinct is that you have to protect yourself. That you aren’t safe, that he’s gonna hurt you, prepare to fight back— god. Could you imagine what it must be like to be feeling that way? To be trying to reconcile the feelings so ingrained in you now, with the person now before you? He’s trying— he’s trying so hard to let Sausage back in. But… it’s not that easy.

I think this essay has definitely gotten long enough, but I do wanna leave off with one final moment. In Sausage’s episode 41 [11:25 - 14:22], fWhip finally feels able to fully accept Sausage back into the alliance. He tells them that he wants to make them all a new meeting room. The three end up falling back into their old antics, playfully attacking each other, and Sausage ends up getting killed. fWhip picks up a bunch of his things, including a splash potion of invisibility that he had. fWhip cheekily says he’ll keep the potion, and Sausage asks for it back, to which fWhip starts to walk off to where he wanted to show them anyway. Gem follows, and in a disapproving tone, says “fWhip, give him his things.” fWhip turns around, says “Okay, here you go,” and splashes the invis on them all, to which Sausage indignantly says “I can’t believe this!” fWhip immediately starts laughing, with Gem giggling as well, and both fWhip and Sausage quickly realize how silly Gem looks while invisible, with her massive hat floating in the air.

I point out this moment because it really encapsulates why I love the WRA so much. They’re such a chaotic bunch— acting like three siblings who love to tease each other, who get into fights and have falling outs and still, in the end, they make up again. They find each other again. They never stop caring about each other, even through everything. It’s a really sweet little moment— the WRA, finally, truly whole again.

#empires smp #THIS GOT SO LONG. OOPS. #i spent like. over 5 hours making this #and I could keep going. i could talk more about fWhip and Gem #about the moment where Scott accidentally blasts Gem with the magic. how worried fWhip was #how he insists that she get help #but honestly that gets into territory that I haven’t yet seen myself #and I can’t tell it properly #and honestly this is long enough #also thank you for the timestamp for the bow thing!! it’s very interesting #i reckon it’s more about them wanting to create peace in that moment than it was about Jimmy specifically? if that makes sense? #but! who’s to say #you’ll notice I ended up talking a lot about Jimmy here #this is because it is impossible to talk about fWhip without talking about Jimmy literally ever #thank you so much for the free excuse to talk about empires one fWhip and the WRA. this is been so enriching for me #i love them so much #and e1 fWhip is my favorite character across both seasons of empires #uh. can you tell? #ANYWAY. thank you to anyone that ends up reading my whole essay. #it is over 3000 words in total. #umbrify talks #umbrify answers #erstwhilesparrow

[summertimemusician]

*is rereading the Four Swords Adventures Manga again to refresh self after replaying Pocket Mirror (RPG Maker Game)*

*Almost drops coffee* Oh holy Hylia. Enjel and Shadow could talk.

Created by the person who's basically the main antagonist? Check.

Fifth secret part out of a protagonist split into four? Check.

Is forced to follow after the protagonist in shadow/reflection like fashion and hates every second of it to the point they're willing to lie and manipulate to take their place? Check.

Wants that specifically because they're jealous and never were love or wanted in their life, so they desperately want someone, anyone to look at them like they're worth something, no matter what they have to do for it desperately craving the love they've seen someone else get even if it's not real because they've just taken over/are pretending to be that person? Check.

Dies tragically due to shattering? Sometimes only getting the care they've wanted through that death after being swayed into not fulfilling their original purpose and returning to the protagonist? Triple check.

That or it's the sleep deprivation making me see parallels between two artificial beings created from the shadow of the protagonist and has a strong association with mirrors.

... Now I want a Zelda/Linked Universe Pocket Mirror Au, with Four/Four Swords Link as the protagonist (or Green as the protag) and Shadow in Enjel's role, or maybe Lisette's (though I feel Blue or Vio would be better for Lisette), Vaati can be the Pumpkin King he's dramatic enough for it, though I dunno which colors would best fit Fleta and Harpae. Maybe Link's Father or Dot made the deal this run around? I can absolutely see Shadow describing Four as "Mr.Goody Two Shoes" through a mirror, or any of the endings being played out by them.

#linked universe au #kinda? #lu four #lu shadow #Pocket Mirror Au #listen #I just think Shadow and Enjel should get to go to therapy #where they both cynically bond over being created by someone wishing the protagonist ill but being brought over to their side #through someone actually caring for them #G------ and Four can bond over mirror trauma with Twilight in the back #I can also see Shadow in Lisette's role really easily though frankly him and Vio are both extra and feral enough for it lol #Four Swords Adventures Link/Four from LU 🤝 G----- from Pocket Mirror having a story with themes of self acceptance #through learning to coexist with the different aspects of their personhood and to accept even an aspect not fully theirs #I could go on but I'm sleep deprived and need to do some actual writing lol #plus I doubt anyone would like to listen to me overanalyzing Four or Shadow for hours the essay is literally hours long

[justinefrischmanngf]

i really really really don't want to write this essay T______T but i have to ! and it'll all be over by the end of the week ! but my god i literally don't want to do it at ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!

#i genuinely think i'm going to do so badly in all of my subjects this semester #or not Badly but mediocre-ly just because i've been so up and down and lacking focus this semester #i don't think i'm going to FAIL but i don't think i'm going to do WELL and i've left it late enough that that kind of has to be okay #i really don't want to do this essay like i just know it's going to be painful #but i think today i need to work on this essay and tomorrow i need to work on the Other essay and thursday i'll split btwn the both bc i #need to submit the Other one which should theoretically hopefully not take that long #and then i have all of friday for this essay and technically saturday as well but it'd be awesome if i could get everything #done by friday night !!!!!

[deus-ex-mona]

there’s a non-non-zero chance of success though… _(:3 」∠)_

#long depressing rant in the tags incoming ig? take warning!! #maybe it’s bc it’s 3am and i’m tired or maybe it’s bc of the 8-9 hour old fried vermicelli that i just gave up on eating but my head hurts~~ #or maybe it could even be bc i spent like 3 hours unpacking my boxes (note: my fam moved last month) instead of chilling like i wanted to… #either way i saw some things while unpacking that i really should’ve left in the distant past and i’m feeling as empty as my stomach pre-米粉 #though i did uncover a dogtag i had engraved years ago with nothing but a ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) on it so that was pretty funny #but other than that… i remembered all the weird things i had given up on in the past via the things i unearthed… #like cooking! i unpacked this huge 1k+ page thick cookbook thing and remembered that i had a phase where i liked to cook #then i remembered that i had mistaken salt for sugar while making some meat dish with a ton of soy sauce and byebye cooking confidence :( #and to add to that i also read a past essay of mine about my culture and i remembered my grandma and i. yeah. #and i also saw stuff from my old hobbies that i had to give up on due to money/time constraints and i just. yeah. #and not to forget all the stuff from my former friends… i swear i always get ghosted the moment we affirm that we’re friends lol #am i a walking maxed social link or something? lol? yeah i have no irl friends. none. #i’ve gotten used to it though~ i don’t mind having no friends. it leaves me with more time for myself and my sleep~ #it’s just that… sometimes i get the urge to hop over the country border for some ~chewing gum~ shopping… but there’s no one to go with lol #or like when i see interesting-looking events going on at local attractions but there’s no one to check it out with… or something. #and that got me wondering… am i just wasting my life or something? it’s a new year right? so i should make some lifestyle changes too right? #…​and so i bought a hairdryer for the first time a few days back. yeah. that’s enough change for 1 year. lol #who needs friends when you can have a nice warm hairdryer? blast away good pal!!!!!!!!!!!! #anyways yeah. that’s my 3am rant of the day. sorry if you read this lol #sunday’s 🧂saltfest🧂 #h e lp i forgot to disable rbs on this for a bit i hate 3am brain smmmm </3

[born-to-lose]

My 20 y/o former drama club friend got engaged to her boyfriend of five years or so and I'm so jealous like. I can't even keep a relationship going for longer than half a year. Fuck

#i could put an entire essay in the tags but i won't because i'm tired and already whined enough to my friends all day #but god when is it my turn to be happy with someone long term. to work things out to be happy even after a fight. to be loved and secure #not that i'm crazy about marriage as a concept but i just want the permanent love and some sort of security and commitment #i'm so happy for her of course!!! won't get invited to the wedding because it's been quite a long time and we weren't super duper close #but they're adorable i always admired their relationship and seeing her posting the proposal photos on insta made me go 🥹🥹🥹 #mel talks

[todayisafridaynight]

The whole giri-ninjo part of the discussion you guys were having scratches a particular itch in my brain! I love all of it but I personally have been caught on that one line for quite a while with Mine.

I'm going to defer mostly to Tenno's interpretation since I'm not particularly studied, but I have some brain-worms about what exactly the concept of giri-ninjo means to Mine specifically.

Giri is a fun word to try and define. It's not just moral obligation, it's societal expectations and informs the kind of loyalty and friendly behavior that comes with business, duty, etc. In gift-giving, there's the obligation to return a gift with another, sending cards out for holidays, etc. It's not negative but it is again, obligation, and built a lot on either reciprocal action or simply the rules of society. Ninjo is quite literally "human feelings", so it encompasses emotions such as love and compassion that can inform giri, or even be in conflict with it. The giri-ninjo value system of what we owe to each other, reliance on one another, is inherent in the dependence bonds that Tenno mentioned.

I believe Mine says something along the lines of how he hates people (Kiryu) who live their lives only on that principle alone. This is really interesting to me, as in a way giri-ninjo seems to define exactly the type of bonds that Mine specifically sought out in the yakuza. Why would he despise it?

For one, he could think Kiryu foolish to believe that he can build his life entirely around these bonds that Mine finds to be fallible and subject to be taken away at any moment. I feel like on top of rejecting interdependence for individualism, there's also the matter of giri mixed in. Mine is quite familiar with relationships built entirely on obligation, especially in a business setting. Relationships where people are kind to one another not because they particularly care, but because it's simply something that you have to do as part of society- the kind of thing that results in the betrayal Mine felt at his former workplace.

Mine wants to care about someone and be cared about, not a concern compelled by duty or the sense that you owe each other. I suppose one could read relationships like this as not only unreliable but also as false. It's the most uncharitable interpretation of giri, but not one that I would put past Mine.

There's a lot more I could spam abt it but it's ground already covered and this is getting long anyway haha. Again don't take this like 1000% seriously I'm only really a native speaker in household conversational and had to learn the rest by aggressively pestering my family for their takes on scenes in Yakuza, and even then people have their own personal reading of things. I just wanted to send bc these thoughts have been spinning in my brain ever since I heard the line the first time.

This kind of interpretation's pretty sensible (if that's the right word anyway) honestly; it's definitely a fair and just assessment, and makes a whole lot of sense in regards to Mine, his wants, and his philosophy! I'm definitely a fan of this exploration of the subject..

#long post #fave #snap chats #aka im suckign it up in a syringe and injecting it into my brain directly #i WISH i could use my words better but just know now MY brain is going to itch about this #of course as you said the term and all else can be interpreted in different ways #but going off the idea that giri-ninjo is more out of obligation than a personal desire to help #it really does help reinforce mine's aggression towards people like kiryu #AGAINN IM BAD AT WORDS I FEEL BAD FOR NOT WRITING ENOUGH BUT JUST KNOW IM A FAN #definitely bookmarking this to rotate in my mine essay later #heh... im free from school i CAN work on that essay.... #maybe some other time.... my brain is very small i need to train it first.. #but thank you immensely for writing in i love the ways we're talking about mine this week #i feel like i havent been able to really discuss mine so in-depthly so it's been a lot of fun and really eye opening

[sneepity-snoop-snorpity-sneep]

I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON HOW AMERICAN SOCIETY HANDLES MENTAL DISABILITY AND I HAVE DECIDED TO talk about it to myself on my blog at moderate volume

THOUGHT NUMBER 1!!

OK so i’m pretty sure anyone who’s thought about it knows that the medical community (and other industries connected to it, like the insurance dudes), don’t consider brain-malfunction conditions to be on the same tier as other forms of healthcare, and give less priority to funding those departments, which means even if you HAVE got a bunch of medical professionals in those disciplines who DO take that ish seriously, they’ve got immediate barriers between them and the folks needing their services. which sucks.

that one i don’t have an immediate fix for, cuz i don’t think there IS an immediate fix, especially with how many more people are needing mental health treatments/evaluations these days. but you know what COULD have a nice big drastic impact on how people as a whole see mental health AND ALSO how large of a burden untreated mental health problems put on american society??

MAKE. ANNUAL. MENTAL HEALTH. EVALUATIONS. A. NORMAL. THING!!

like what parents are supposed to do with their kids and dr appointments is at least once a year, hop in the car or on the bus, and take their kid to get a physical! thats a totally normal thing people do, the idea being “even if there wasn’t anything obviously wrong before the appointment, its just a good way to keep an eye on our children’s health and catch problems sooner if a serious one does turn up!

well folks, that idea of monitoring one’s health preventing a lot of problems from becoming problems in the first place would also work with any and all forms of neurodivergency!! like how many people who struggle with a brain illness struggle mostly due to the fact that they weren’t prepared for it!? i’m totally projecting here btw, cuz guess what happened to me even though i WAS tested as a kid!! this exact issue right here!

obviously, a lot of mental illnesses specifically can’t be counted on to show up when you're still in childhood, where once a problem is revealed its the adults around you who are supposed to take care of you and make sure you’re getting what you need. BUT!!! but but but but BUT

if you DID come down with a condition as an adult, but you’d already been somewhat familiarized with what symptoms WERE IN FACT symptoms, and common treatments/solutions for said symptoms, due to having regular psychiatric checkups with a dr throughout childhood?

well, odds seems pretty good that you’d be much better prepared for that condition if/when it did come along, and it would probably take less time to notice it too!

say nothing of the fact that this would do a lot to de-stigmatize mental health, cuz if u arrange ur healthcare system so it is No Longer Assuming That Neurotypicality Is The Norm, then EVERYONE’S got that knowledge too, and even for the people who haven’t got a form of neurodivergence and never will -  them having a similar stockpile of background knowledge and awareness of mental health as those who do have a condition will do a ton to remove the obstacles in the way of effective society-wide treatment of brain illnesses (both on the stigma side of things, and on the practical symptom-treating side)

THOUGHT NUMBER 2!!

so this party-popper of thought was specifically inspired by a post i saw but can’t find (NVM I FOUND IT :D) that listed neurotypical traits in a similar manner as autistic traits tend to be talked about - i chuckled at it and then went like hey, what if tho, what if that could actually have some practical applications?

specifically, what if that exact premise was used as a the foundation of a unit in health classes in public schools?

like i know that even if you get a health curriculum and teacher that does a fairly good job of talking about what they’re required/allowed to talk about, there just isn’t enough time given to go into detail about a lot of important shit, and in the classes i got at least, neurodivergency vs. neurotypical-ness was one of the things not discussed (most of the ones i got focused on healthy relationships, which they did a good-but-not-great job on)

but if you had even just a couple lectures where the teachers first explain what each one is, give a few examples of neurodivergent conditions, and then follow it up with a talk outlining the neurotypical traits and explaining why/how they’re neurotypical traits?? it could definitely have a similar effect as the theoretical benefits to Thought #1

it would potentially re-frame the lack-of-condition that is being neurotypical - like i feel like the way people see it as ‘normal’ and while i get how that’s the impression people end up with, i think that’s a bad way to try and categorize the different ways the human brain functions - cuz what does normal even mean??? it doesn’t really describe anything except that ‘this person doesn’t seem to have anything going on with their behavior, they must be normal’ which. uh. hi there high-functioning folks, how y’all doing on this fine fall afternoon?

like if i’d been made aware that a lot of the stuff i did that i knew was what made me ‘weird’ were actually full-on SYMPTOMS that i actually shared with a ton of other people!? lemme tell you, it would’ve made a BIG difference in how much i measured the scope my problems based on ‘i’m weird though, so this is to be expected’

 Even (or maybe especially) though i didn’t actually know anybody personally with the same conditions, because hey! i didn’t know many people personally who also had asthma, but i never developed any hangups around how that affected my physical needs. why would I??! i’d already met a bunch of doctors about it, gotten an inhalor for it, and knew it was a Condition and that i was far from the only kid who had it. there wasn’t any empty space in my knowledge that i was left to fill with my own assumptions, that if i was so perpetually inadequate it must just be a trait i had and there wasn’t any point in trying to logic my way out of that burden

it doesn’t seem like it would be particularly difficult to close that knowledge gap when it comes to how people look at mental illness and neurodivergency, even just by explaining what’s really going into being allistic, neurotypical, or ‘normal’ would go a long way towards dispelling the idea that people have absolute control over their brains and behavior, as well as just being a great way to get folks with undiagnosed going-ons in their grey matter to shake off any assumptions they’ve made about how they should look at themselves for not being normal

ok yeah, having lectures where u explain how a person is neurotypical the same way you’d explain how someone is neurodivergent won’t help people with brain conditions know which one they’ve got or what to do about it - but i feel like the greater gain here is disrupting the idea that being neurotypical or ‘normal’ is something that awards merit or pride.

no one who’s not-neurodivergent got that way because of something they personally achieved or did. it wasn’t a reward they received from the universe for being a Certified Good Boi, they got lucky! they didn’t do anything to personally earn a brain that functions and on the flip side of that, starting out with a brain that functions isn’t actually some form of magical protection from losing that functionality if ur good luck runs out - a lot of forms of neurodivergence aren’t ones you’re born with after all.

and even the ones that ARE, same logic applies!! autism, adhd, and other conditions aren’t metaphorical coal in ur stocking for being naughty, they just are. nobody gets a say in what stats they have at birth!! (honestly the control we have even under our own agency and mobility isn’t that influential on our circumstances a lot of the time)

basically i feel like u want to start regularly introducing the idea that the perception of ‘normal’ is coming out of very measurable things in people’s brains. A perception which really just seems like another lazy way of assuming that those who have a functioning brain won’t ever have to worry about losing that, like it’s an inherent trait to you as a person or something - newflash! it ain’t. your mind, personality, and behavior are not magical airy-fairy things detached from measurable factors, their roots are all held within your brain, and your brain is an organ which can get sick or damaged. Not only that, but since its a very complex organ to boot, it doesn’t take a very big change to cause big differences in functionality!!

like yeah in theory it would be great if you could explain the difficulties people with disabilities face to those with no personal stake in that, and have them have sufficient empathy to consider that as something that matters. And although I’m sure there ARE folks out there capable of that, there’s also a lot of folks out there who will let you down BIG TIME on that front, so i think another tactic to use when trying to combat ableism would be to start requiring curriculums that gives all the folks across the board a nice big sip of

#ableism is stupid in this essay i will proceed to #mental health #neurodivergency #us healthcare #altho im sure there are similar problems even in places that have universal healthcare too #honestly bi-annual mental health evals would be best #but annual ones would still be an improvement! #i guess the overall point of both of my points be that #society could eliminate a lot of its big problems rn #if it started practicing self-awareness and let go of the idea that one is supposed to be born normal #and if once u are u don't need to look into it any further #yeah it would be nice to be able to achieve a certain level of then-constant good health #like if u level up enough u never have to worry about losing the good luck u started with #but thats not realistic - even if ur born totally healthy and normal in brain and body #odds are you'll age into being disabled if u live long enough #so hope for the best but be fucking prepared for the worst methinks #oh yeah and nanny mcphee is here cuz i like her

[grassbreads]

I finished Silent Reading!!

Overall I'd say that I liked and had fun with it despite my criticisns, but it has some pretty noticeable problems. This is the second priest novel I've read after Tai Sui, and I knew it wasn't going to live up to my utter adoration of TS, but I'd still say that Mo Du was pretty notably not as good. It's a fun novel! But it's good rather than amazing.

On the positive side, I really enjoyed Luo Wenzhou and Fei Du's whole dynamic. It wasn't the most romantic romance I've read, and I could nitpick how I feel about their end state, but they're always a ton of fun to watch going back and forth. I especially enjoyed their book 3 "flirty game of chicken" era, as well as their more fraught confrontations in book 4. "I’d really love nothing better than to dig out your evil heart and rotten lungs and have a look" remains one of the most brilliantly insanity-inducing lines of dialogue that I have ever read.

Lang Qiao, Tao Ran, and Xiao Haiyang all made for very charming side characters, and the mysteries themselves were interesting. I also love the choice to work literary references into the novel in such a big way. I was *thrilled* when I started book 2 and realized what priest was doing with the book titles.

There really is a lot to like about Mo Du, and priest tells a great story with Fei Du. Watching a character intent on destroying himself be pulled from a dark path and manage to exact an almost perfect revenge while remaining unsullied is, uh, really satisfying. It's fun to watch the forces of justice be victorious!

However, as is the case with any ultimately pro-police story that tries to tackle the failings of the justice system, it feels like it bit off more than it could resolve thematically. The conspiracy has been unwound and the crooked cops have been exposed, but the novel makes a legitimate point about the failings of the police to really help people, especially early on, and the ending does not fully fix that problem. Things are definitely better than they were when the story ends. Fei Du is a rich man that likes to spend his money helping victims, and Lwz and his team are all very dedicated to bringing justice no matter the cost. But I don't think it's realistic to say that Lwz's people will somehow solve every crime in Yan city, or that no victim will ever be tossed by the wayside again. It just feels like there's this terrible looming extant problem in the background that neither priest or the characters can recognize.

Fei Du gets his happy ending and catharsis, and the victims of the Zhangs and Fan Siyuan get some version of justice in the end, but the problems of the justice system as presented in the story simply cannot be fixed.

Like I said, this is ultimately a failing that the story was bound to have, given that it's both pro-police to a large degree and concerned with how the justice system fails people, but I still feel it's worth pointibg out. Not to mention the overall copaganda-ness of how LWZ and his team are portrayed.

Besides my beef with police narratives, I also think that the mysteries in this one may have gotten a bit too convoluted for their own good at times. The crimes in Silent Reading are a complex fucking web, and keeping track of everything that happens would require following a near unfathomable number of tiny details over a long (540k) novel. Once we hit a certain point, I just had to accept that I wasn't going to be able to follow the details of the mystery or figure anything out for myself, which isn't necessarily what you want from a crime novel.

Also, as much as I enjoyed Fei Du, there were some points where I felt his backstory kinda failed to land. I think I'm honestly just spoiled by VnC at this point. Vanitas is a character with a truly horrific backstory and a bonkers personality, but it never feels like too much because every horrible thing in his past is reflected so well in his present traits (and vice versa). For Fei Du, on the other hand, his past sometimes felt like a little much. He's obviously going thru it in the present, but not quite a degree of fucked up that could sell me on the sheer insanity that is the whole metal ring situation.

Also, as I've complained about previously, I don't love how this novel treats women. I don't like how things ended with Yang Xin, and though I ended up enjoying Lang Qiao, I'm bothered by how she's basically the only woman that's relevant through the whole novel (compared to just SO many dudes).

Overall, a solid 6 or 7 out of 10. A lot of fun and very interesting, and it does have some compelling thematic things to say, but there were aspects which I found very much frustrated me. I might recommend it to anyone who likes Tai Sui and wants to see an interesting Zhou Ying precursor, as well as anyone who really likes mystery and crime novels with super intricate, complicated plotlines. However, I only make that recommendation if you promise to take the novel's portrayal of good policemen with a MASSIVE grain of salt lmao. I cannot stress enough the degree to which the portrayal of LWZ and his team ends up being copaganda-ish, even if that's unintentional.

#I feel like I could write an essay about this novel's relationship to the concept of good police #I absolutely am not going to #as I am not nearly familiar enough with the details of the chinese police system to do the topic any kind of justice #but someone who knows more than me could really sink their teeth in and unpack everything #anyway. it was an interesting read and I had a lot of fun with it #but I'm happy to be moving on now #go vote in my silly little poll to decide what I'm starting next! #it's in my tag: #invasion of the frogs #andie reads silently #long post

[happywitch416]

One would think with all the pain I live with that I would not turn into the world's littlest bitch when I have extra pain but damn. I think knee pain so bad your legs shake too much to walk in both knees is probably enough to put most people out.

I'm just so well adjusted to pain that I won't pass out.

#moving my mom the same week as finding out there is no hope for my knee #has not been fun. i asked about surgery options and got wellll the other bones would not be able to handle the stress of the surgery #which could end..very badly...so.. #i just gotta go slow healing up once we are done. and we arent. we dont even have the other plaxe empty #weve been moving boxes and furniture since last weekend. for 6 to 8 hours a day. and had professional movers for about 3 hours #which. thank fuck bc its just been me and hubs. two kids. an aunt in her 60s and one cousin. #mom still cant walk. and her...manbaby wont help. at all. eveb though most of this is his stuff. but thats a whole essay #that makes me so mad i cry. and i just finished the pain crying. so id rather not do more of that! #needless to say its been fuckin awful just. horrible. #and we were promised a 100 dollars for helping...and now we are getting nothing bc he deemed we havebt worked hard enough #which is definitely not something tou want to hear when the only bread winner is currently between jobs #bc the new job pushed back the start date after he had left the old job. he had planned the gap for a week off #so we could move my mom. bc hes awesome. #but. its gonna be a long 4 weeks before the next one starts.... #the witch speaks #im so tired im awake

[rafeandonlyrafe]

desperate measures

words: 1.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, BABY TRAPPING!, pregnancy, female receiving oral

rafe thought it was just his paranoia, the gnawing thought in his mind that you were going to leave him. he never considered that it could be true, that you were putting plans into place.

until a rumor spread that you were fed up with his behavior. his over protectiveness, his anger issues. you love him, but think he needs to heal without you first. that's the claim thats whispered to him at the party, one you aren't attending, staying home to study for your online college class.

rafe rushes home, rage flooding through his veins, knowing he needs to do everything and anything to get you to stay. 

--

“hey gorgeous, almost done studying?” rafe combs his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to your head.

“yeah.” you hum, tilting your head up to allow rafe to press a kiss to your lips. “just give me 15 more minutes and ill come to bed, mkay?”

“okay.” rafe nods, squeezing your shoulder in support as you go back to typing out your essay. 15 minutes gives him plenty of time to do what he needs to. 

rafe grabs the condoms out of his bedside table drawer, throwing them all onto the bed. he's not sure how many tries it'll take, but he's determined.

he moves to your pinboard next, grabbing a tack that holds up a picture of you and rafe when you first started your relationship, before you saw the dark side of him. rafe frowns at the picture instead of mimicking the smile in it like he normally does, now noticing the difference in you, your smile is not as wide, eyes duller, cheeks not as full. 

“fuck.” rafe shakes his head, angry at himself for letting you down without even realizing it. things are going to change, he has to fix it. he can’t let you leave. rafe moves back to the bed, pin in hand as he takes a condom package and presses a hole through it, making sure to skewer it completely through. he continues until every condom is poked, glad for once that you reacted badly to birth control and had to seek other methods to prevent getting pregnant.

rafe cleans up quickly, tossing everything back into the drawer and then pinning the picture back up, looking over the other snapshots that you put up. there's some of your friends, but most are of you and rafe. rafe knows you love him, he just needs to make sure you never stop.

“whatcha looking at?” you ask as you enter the room, voice light and airy despite the bags under your eyes. rafe credited it to you taking college classes, but was now worried that he contributed to your current state.

“just how beautiful you are.” rafe doesn't miss the look on your face, the surprise.

“oh.” you blush, raising your hands to press your fingertips into your cheeks.

“and im really sorry if i haven't been telling you that enough lately.” rafe crosses over to you, hands coming to cup your cheeks, your hands trapped under his.

“what are you doing rafe?” you question.

“i haven’t been treating you well enough lately and im so sorry for that baby. i love you.” rafe presses his lips against yours. you react to the kiss, pushing past the surprise to kiss back, sliding your hands out from under his to grip his shirt, tugging his body into yours.

“are you tired princess?” rafe asks, lips still skimming over yours as he questions it.

“n-no.” you shake your head, bottom lip pouting out, making rafe lean in to kiss it. “why?”

“because i want you.” rafe smirks. he's used to your excuses. tired, headache, need to shave, need to eat, anything to get out of it.

“oh!” your eyebrows widen. “yeah.” you press yourself closer to rafe. it's been a long time since you felt the rush of lust for him, since he's treated you so sweetly, talked so candidly. no sign of anger or resentment hiding in his eyes. “yeah, i want you too.”

“good.” rafe moves you to the bed. his hands work effortlessly as his mouth distracts you, pulling at your clothes until you're naked, all of his clothes still on.

“rafe, let me see you.” you pout, tugging at his shirt.

“no, let me focus on you, princess.” rafe moves lower to wrap his mouth around your nipple, giving you full attention while his other hand cups the other side of your chest.

“rafe.” you whine, completely forgetting about your relationship issues, about how you were just thinking of the right time to leave him as he plays with your chest, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to give you more.

“spread your legs, baby.” rafe pushes at your thighs until you help him, spreading your knees apart to present yourself to him.

rafe lays between your thighs, but not before pulling his shirt off, granting you your wish of having him at least get closer to the state of undress you're in.

“such a pretty pussy baby. gonna give it so much lovin’, it's what you deserve.” rafe rubs your inner thighs, eyes locked on your wetness. 

“what has gotten into you rafe?” you let out a breathy laugh, starting to get slightly suspicious of how sweet he's acting.

“just wanna appreciate my lovely girl.” rafe moves closer, inhaling your scent before his tongue licks through your wetness.

you fist your hands in the sheets as he focuses in on your clit, knowing nothing gets you off faster than him sucking at your most sensitive part.

“rafe, oh my god!” you squeal. it's been a long time since he's given you head, and rafe is wondering himself why it's been so long since he tasted you on his tongue, moaning to himself as he swipes through what he swears is better than pure honey.

“so delicious.” he moans, the words vibrating over your pussy as he barely pulls away to speak, mouth greedily sucking at your clit, tongue rolling incessantly over it.

“it-it feels so good.” you moan, moving one hand to rafes head, his hair too short to grip onto, but you need the physical connection to him.

rafes eyes slide closed, concentrating on making you cum as soon as possible so he can get inside of you, his cock so hard he has to grind into the bed just to relieve himself slightly, knowing what he is about to.

rafe brings a finger to your entrance, carefully pushing in, knowing since it's been a while that he's going to have to open you up to take him. he immediately picks up speed to match to intensity of his mouth, only stopping sucking to press a few kisses to your clit.

“im-im gonna cum rafe, oh my god!” you let out a squeal, back arching off the bed as he works you until your high breaks through, legs clenching around his head, thighs pressing in but rafe doesn't let it deter him as he works you through it, only stopping when your whine from the oversensitivity and push at his head.

“gotta get inside you.” rafe pulls away, making sure to remove his finger carefully. he reaches over to the bedside table, grabbing a condom, knowing you won't notice the small hole pressed through the foil as you breathe deeply, recovering from your orgasm.

rafe tears the packaging open, standing up to briefly pull his pants and underwear off, sliding the condom over his hard cock, smirking when he can tell precisely where the small hole is. no way you wouldn't get pregnant, and then there is no way you'd be able to leave him.

“how you want me baby?” rafe asks. he knows his preference. to turn you over and have you on your hands and knees, ass presented to him.

“like this.” you open your arms up, wanting rafe close to you.

he nods, draping himself over your body, lips covering yours as his cock presses against your entrance, sinking in with a low moan.

your arms wrap around rafes shoulders, keeping him close to you, your chests pressed together as he lets you adjust for a moment, his cock pressing against your walls.

“god, ive missed this.” you mew out.

“gonna work on treating you so much better.” rafe says, a look of seriousness overtaking his features. “you're mine, baby.” he finished his words with a thrust. “all mine.”

--

“rafe!” you finally manage to shout out. you hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs, entering the bedroom and then finally the bathroom where you're hunched over the toilet.

“baby?” he questions, kneeling next to you, hands moving carefully.

“it's my stomach.” you groan, pressing a hand to your abdomen. “i must have come down with something.”

“yeah.” rafe nods. “im gonna get you a water.” rafe has to leave the room, he can't let you see him celebrate your morning sickness when you don't even know the true cause yet.

--

“when you get a minute…” your hands are wrestling with each other behind your back, trying to control your nerves. “i need to talk to you.”

rafe smiles. surely you must have had a suspicion yourself and taken a pregnancy test. surely that's what you must be holding behind your back.

“i have a minute right now.” rafe stands up from his desk, crossing the room. when he goes to place his hands on your shoulders, you take a deep inhale, not even meaning to retreat yet you step back into the doorway.

“baby?” rafe questions.

“im pregnant.” you blurt out.

rafe tries to control his excitement, tries to mimic shock before he pulls you into a hug, feeling how tense you are. “baby, that’s so exciting! oh my god, we are gonna be parents.” he takes your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips, even though you don’t really reciprocate. “you’re gonna be the best mom ever.”

“i… i have something else to tell you too.” you feel tears fill your eyes, not stopping them from flowing down your cheeks. “i was gonna break up with you.” you let out a sob, burying your face in rafes chest as you continue. “i was gonna break up with you until i took a test and it came back positive. i’m so sorry rafe, i never wanted to leave i just thought-”

“hey, shh.” rafe strokes your back gently. “the past is the past. this baby will bring us together, okay? we are gonna be parents, happy, in love parents. thats what matters.”

you nod, snuggling into rafe as he kisses the top of your head, glad that you can’t see the smirk on his face, his plan executed perfectly.

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[inkskinned]

for the longest time my family used to host one of the biggest haunted houses on my block: elaborate, themed amateur haunts that pearled out along our lawn for one-night-only. spinning circus wheel-of-terrors and walkthrough alien crash-landings and spiders that arched over our driveway, leaking venom onto your feet.

we didn't have a lot of money; and honestly i don't know how we afforded what we did have. there were not going to be pneumatics or projectors or any supply over 20 dollars - and even 20 was a stretch. we were lucky, and we lived in a town that had a "swap shed", where people would drop off any banged-up-but-usable items that they wanted to get rid of. the whole year, my family would pick over someone else's discarded fans and lights and weird decorations, asking each other - what do you think? for halloween?

we would strip the motors out of rusted fans and spraypaint vases and saw broom handles in half and apply a very thick coat of cardboard and duct tape to everything. for our pirate year, i made the mistake of individually drawing woodgrain onto each strip of cardboard that made up the ship. i then gently painted and distressed the "boards" so they'd each have lichen and cracks and unusual patterns. i hid eyes in the knots and shaped skulls. you couldn't see any of it in the dark, even under our "spotlight" (someone's target-branded workshop flashlight).

i have a lot of very strange skills as a result. i know how to make a flying ghost appear both physically and in the mirror. i know how to make a witch's brew that stirs itself. i know how to burn and cut and paint until there is an iron throne you can sit on, or an alien brushing your ankles, or a hearse trundling along. i can't say we ever made it beyond our local newspapers, but we tried so hard that the town would regularly shut down our street.

i can't put any of these skills on a resume, and i haven't been able to put them to use for a while. i live in an apartment, there's no lawn for me to decorate. for years i've wanted to do an alice in wonderland theme, and have been collecting ideas like coins in a fountain. at other houses, i am transfixed by 12 foot skeletons and paper mache spooky lanterns; easily wooed by the knowledge of how much time people put in.

someone asked me once - so what was the point? and why didn't you guys charge anything to show up?

in truth, we probably needed the money. for years there, we were a 1-meal-a-day kind of a family. i was being polite earlier up in this essay: we furnished both our house and our halloweens using things left a recycling center. we live in new england and still didn't turn on the heat until the end of november, no matter how low the temperature.

every year we would collect donations for unicef and other charities. on an average year, we would collect enough to pay for our food for weeks. every year, without fail: we donated every penny.

this endeavor took months to plan and design and execute. we had to organize any volunteers and check safety and hope-for-the-best. it took at least 24 hours to set up, a week to take down. the motors and fans and lights all had to be packed tight. the cardboard would scatter, pangea in the rain and sleet. i remember picking up a plank from that pirate ship, the paint blown clear off, all my hard work completely erased. a new kind of driftwood.

if this was a poem, and not a memory, i could wrap this up prettily. i could say that these skills landed me a cool job in the haunting industry or that it taught me the value of friendship and responsibility. but i actually think it's something better, something very pretty: there wasn't ever a moral to it.

the night was a long one. yes, there were assholes, people who broke stuff. but mostly it was just kids like us in cardboard costumes, dressed as an incredibly niche kind of truck. good parents who were friendly and laughing. teenagers who slunk in at late hours, wide-eyed and secretly delighted; who asked us can i help next year? like, do y'all take volunteers, or whatever? every year more people came, and told their friends, and offered to pay. and every year we said maybe next year and meant absolutely never.

we did it because it was enough to love something, and to make that love visible. we did it because there is very rarely an excuse to have fun. i think maybe especially, for me - we did it because every year, there was one first "customer" somewhere around 3-4PM, while we were still putting on the final touches. the sun would still be up, and we were frazzled and always-running-late, and these kids saw our vision unfinished in the bright light of day.

something about their parents murmuring say thank you and telling my mom this setup is so sweet while this little kid would grin up at us, dazzled by our artistic mediocrity. the fall air and the chill and their coat-over-a-panda-princess-costume. that first phrase of the night awkwardly managed over a pair of overly-large vampire teeth: a beautiful and excited trick or treat!

#wholesome #happy halloween #writeblr #just something to maybe warm ur heart in these times #my parents also usually let me take nov 1st off #this is the first year in like 20 years im not taking it off bc it became like a family holiday #i regret not taking it off but alas. capitalism.

[munsonluhvr]

ohhhh and i honestly need more professor!eddie x student!reader

imagine he’s her professor. he’s like 39 and she’s 19. and just a hot secret affair ahhh.. where she’s the one to intend this relationship first like seducing him and all and getting fucked on the desk all the time!! he sometimes has to hold her mouth shut because she’s so loud!!

SCHOOL GIRL CRUSH

a/n: thank u so much for another amazing request. I hope u like it! I loved writing this sm, im tempted to write a part two in the future.

synopsis: professor!eddie munson x student!reader. unable to resist your professor munson, you begin seducing him, making every visit to his office hours productive. lucky for you, all your efforts pay off in the end. word count - 4.7k warnings: 18+, explicit content // age gap relationship, throat fucking, p in v, cum eating, fingering, finger sucking.

Your ears are numb to the sound of your classmates engaging with Professor Munson, answering his questions eagerly to please the young and handsome teacher. You’re trapped in your own mind as you imagine Professor Munson bending you over his desk, his ungraded essays cluttered underneath your upper body. You imagine your thighs shivering and growing goosebumps as his fingertips graze your legs, hooking his pointer fingers onto your panties and pulling your undergarment down as slow as possible… 

“Are you listening, y/n?” Professor Munson asks as he leans against his long wooden desk, his legs crossed in front of him. You sit in the front row, of course, to be able to gain his attention. Your legs are outstretched in front of you and Professor Munson taps your foot with his. “Care to share what you’re day dreaming about with the rest of the class?” 

You blush, shaking your head quickly. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was listening.” You lean forward on your desk, resting your elbow on the tabletop, your hand cupping your chin. Bending at the waist, you push your chest forward, allowing Professor Munson to get a front-row view of your breasts that are supported by your bra. 

Professor Munson, or Eddie which is what he allows you to call him in his office hours, lets his eyes dip to your exposed chest but he catches himself quickly, coughing into a close fist. “I see; let’s switch to talking about the book we read last week that we didn’t get to talk about.” He says to the class.

 You sit in the small classroom, your other classmates scattered about the room; there’s only about fifth teen of you, the classroom big enough to fit at least thirty students. Above the chalkboard is a clock that ticks rhythmically, and you watch for the next ten minutes as the class talks amongst themselves. Today was the day you’d go for the kill, feeling as if you and Professor Munson were playing a cat and mouse game since the beginning of the semester. 

Professor Munson was young, probably in his mid to late thirties, and incredibly attractive. Though he was physical attractive, an angelic face with soft features that combine to create a beautiful face, Professor Munson also had a ‘swagger’ about himself, a confidence that you could sense from a mile away. He never dressed, nor acted, like any of your other professors, he wore black ripped jeans, various metal band t-shirts and utilized an informal teaching style.  Nonetheless you enjoyed Professor Munson’s class, though you had to admit, you had an agenda. You wanted to fuck him. 

It all started in the beginning of the semester when you first walked into the classroom. You were automatically enamored by Eddie, easily charmed by his charisma and good looks. It was then and there where you began developing a plan, each week bringing you a step closer to today. 

Over the first two months of the semester, you had frequented his office hours, finding that even though the other girls in the class giggled about how cute he was, nobody went to his office hours leaving you hours to occupy his time. Professor Munson welcomed it happily: at first he quizzed you about the class readings, forcing you to engage with the conversations that happened during class. Though as the weeks went on, your meetings became more personal, and he started to ask you about your background, where you’re from, what your family is like. You were able to get some answers out of Eddie as well; it was fair game after all.

For a while you weren’t able to figure out if Eddie was understanding your motives, or if he found you as attractive as you found him. If he did, he kept it well hidden as a university Professor should. However, the last few meetings you had gave you no doubt in your mind that now was the time to try, to attempt to discover uncharted territory of what is Eddie’s body.  

Two weeks ago, you had visited office hours in hopes of getting your midterm essay edited with suggestions from Eddie; why not try to improve your grade while trying to get fucked? You were planning on making it a quick visit, meant to leave Eddie with dirty thoughts about you. You had worn your shortest skirt, barely covering the paisley patterned panties you wore, a long-sleeved t-shirt with the three buttons at the top completely unbuttoned. With ease, and all the casualty in the world, you brought your paper, printed and paperclipped together, to Eddie’s office, coming around the side of his desk to drop it in front of him. 

“Thank you so much for looking at my paper before the deadline, I just want to make sure I get it right,” you had said, your eyes soft and doe eyed. 

Eddie nodded slightly, his eyes drifting from your face down to your completely bare thighs. “O-Of course, Miss y/n. I’m happy to though I’m sure there’s not much to be corrected.”  You spied his hands resting on his desk, and you took the opportunity to make skin on skin contact. 

You placed your hand on top of his, feeling the coolness of his silver rings that were scattered across his long fingers. You laugh softly, the reverberation causing your breasts to jiggle on your chest. “You’re so kind to me, Professor Munson.” Your fingers curled around his soft hand, and you let it rest there, taunting Eddie to almost say ‘See? You could have all this. Come find out.’ There’s no doubt in your mind, standing in his office, all alone, barely clothed, that he wanted to jump you, lifting that tiny skirt you wore to bunch up at your midsection.

Eddie’s eyes flickered to where your hands rested together and he coughed, rolling his chair under his desk to hide his lower half. You bit your lip, hoping that a boner was what he was attempting to conceal as he pushed his bottom half under his desk. You lift your hand off of his, stepping away from the side of your desk. “I’ll come to your office hours next week to see what you thought of my research?” 

Eddie nods, his eyes no longer looking to make contact with yours. “See you then.” 

The following week you had done what you said you would, making an appearance in his office hours for the thousandth time. You had begun to grow a confidence that was reassuring, probably contributing to your delusions: a professor could never let himself fuck a student, right? Not in your world. You played innocent, pretending as if you didn’t know what you were doing as leaned across Eddie’s cluttered desk to grasp your paperclipped essay with his suggestions scribbled across it, your breasts on full display. You pretended to not know Eddie was watching as you ‘accidently’ dropped your paper on the way out of his office, making of a show of bending down to show your ass that was fitted in a lace thong – and also pretended not to understand why Eddie gasped, then coughed, as you took a moment to pick up your papers that were scattered across the entrance of his office. When you were away from his office, sauntering down the hallway, you just had to pat yourself on the back for the show you just put on. ‘Damn, I’m good at this.’ You thought to yourself, a smug smile playing across your mouth. Eddie was beginning to be just where you wanted him. 

“Well, I think we’ll leave it there for this week. Make sure to follow the syllabus and read what’s required for next week,” Professor Munson said, continuing to lean against his desk. “I’ll wait around if anyone has any questions.” 

You were slow to gather your things, tucking them all away into your backpack. You peeked around you to watch the last of your classmates filter out into the busy hallway. At last, it was just you and Eddie. 

“Professor Munson, I have a question.” You say, standing up from your seat. Oddly, you were nervous, your fingers trembling, your voice wavering. Perhaps you are afraid of rejection. 

Eddie hums, his eyes flickering to where you stand. “What can I do for you, y/n?” 

‘So much’ you think. “Well, I just feel like I’m not following the discussion in class. As if reading all the material isn’t enough to understand what we’re talking about. Perhaps I need a more hands-on approach?” You say, stepping forward to where Eddie rests against his desk. 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Eddie says, his arms uncrossing from in front of his chest to holding him up against the desk. “A hands-on approach?” 

You bite your lip, nodding as you step closer to him again, continuing to close the gap that exists between you and your professor. “Something more.. intimate, perhaps?” You let your backpack drop to the ground, freeing your hands. You wear a zip up hoodie that’s cropped at the waist, though underneath it your skin becomes slick with sweat and nervousness. You make a show of unzipping it slowly, the sound echoing through the classroom. Outside, students shout and chatter as they walk to their next class and for a moment you’re afraid of someone walking in. 

Eddie’s eyes watch closely as your fingers work to unzip your hoodie, then shrug it off, dropping it on top of where your backpack lays across the linoleum floor. “A-Are you referring to when I called you out for daydreaming because, of course, our minds can’t stay occupied on a single topic for a long time; studies have proven that.” Eddie says, beginning to ramble. His adams apple bobs at the front of his throat, his voice quivering. 

You smile, cocking your head to the side. Crossing your arms in front of you, you take the hem of your shirt into your fingers, lifting up and off with ease. “I’m not talking about that. I think I just need some lessons; you know?” Confidence courses through your veins, pushing the disbelief that you were stripping your clothes off for your college professor into the back of your mind. 

Eddie says nothing, his eyes watching every movement you make. His mouth gapes open slightly, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He knows he shouldn’t be sitting against his desk watching, he should be stopping you, but he can’t move, his mind in a trance watching you, his student, bare yourself in front of him. 

You watch closely, analyzing Eddie’s facial expressions. You interpret his face as shocked, bewildered. You decide to take it another step further, reaching behind you with both hands to unclip your bra, freeing your breasts that you’ve been taunting him with. Left in only your skirt and tennis shoes, you step once more to Eddie, finally close enough to reach out and touch him. 

Your fingers play against his face, your fingertips beginning to trace his features. To your surprise, his hands reach out to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt. Eddie maneuvers you between his legs, bringing you almost nose to nose with him. The sensation of Eddie holding on to you makes your core begin to tighten, knowing he’s finally beginning to lean into game you’ve been playing. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Eddie says, his brown eyes watching as the pad of your thumb brushes against his bottom lip. You lean forward, letting your lips hover over his. “Oh, but you know you want to, Professor Munson. I know I want to,” You say, your nose nudging into his as you let your lips get closer and closer to his. 

Eddie swallows, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue creating a tender, painful boner to form against the tightness of his jeans. He wants to so bad, ever since you walked into office hours for the first time. So, innocent you were, though Eddie was no fool – he knew it was all an act. The way you were just barely an adult, only nineteen, his young pupil, yet you had the confidence and sexual charm of a grown woman. He had fallen right into your trap, a willing victim. 

Without hesitation, you let your lips gently intertwine with Eddie’s, each movement soft and delicate. Eddie hesitates at first, your lips moving against his as his mouth remains stiff though he isn’t able to refrain for long, the feeling of your soft lips against his, the sweetness of your mouth flowing into his forced him to give in. Eddie’s hands begin to move lower down your body, his hands finding their way underneath your skirt. Before he pulls your panties down, letting the drop to your ankles, he lets his fingertips drag against your cunt, feeling the way your pulsing clit is pressed against the fabric of your undergarments. To you, the feeling makes your eyes roll back, the pressure of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your most sensitive parts making your knees weak. You whine against his mouth, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders to press your bare front into his. 

It takes everything in Eddie to refrain from pulling your panties down abruptly, flipping you face down onto his desk when you whine against his mouth. Slow and steady; Eddie wants to relish every minute he’s under your spell.  Instead, Eddie pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, letting your moistness to be revealed. You drip around his fingers, your body preparing itself for his arrival. Eddie’s breath hitches when he feels how slick your cunt is, how turned on you are from merely his presence, just from a minute or so of kissing. Eddie’s stomach twists with guilt, knowing his interaction with you goes against every university code of conduct, though he couldn’t care less. With a swift movement, he lets his pointer and middle finger plunge into you, your wet core swallowing his digits whole. 

This time, the feeling of Eddie pushing his fingers inside of you causes you to moan loudly, throwing your head back, eyebrows knitted together with building frustration. Eddie takes the opportunity, now that your lips are detached, to leave a trail of gentle kisses down your chest, centering right between your breasts. With his free hand, Eddie cups your breast, letting his mouth envelop your hardened nipple.  You hand grips Eddie’s upper arm tightly as the tip of his tongue flicks across your nipple, sending a spark across your chest, your eyes pinching shut with pleasure. In a rhythmic motion, Eddie’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, your wetness from arousal beginning to drip down your inner thighs, and down the back of Eddie’s hand, down his forearm. 

Your thighs began to tremble against Eddie’s movements, his long fingers fluttering inside you, immediately attracted to the weakest spot inside of you. You feel pressure beginning to build inside your lower abdomen, the aching feeling of needing Eddie’s cock inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut; your body overwhelmed with the feeling of pleasure caused by Eddie’s thick fingers. 

You’re caught off guard when you’re moved quickly, now the one sitting against the hardwood desk, Eddie standing above you. You frown at the feeling of emptiness in your cunt, Eddie’s fingers going missing. Through your eyelashes at Eddie, your lips in a small pout. Eddie lingers above you, his tall stature seeming even taller as you sit at the edge of his desk, the hard edge digging into the softness of your ass. 

Eddie’s eyes gaze at you admiringly, his hand reaching out to touch your face in the manor you had touched his, his fingertips attending to all your soft yet beautiful features. The world around you slows to a vibrant hum, the hallways no empty, all the other students off to their next classes. You stare back at Eddie, feeling tension hang in the air similar to how humidity hangs in the air on a hot summer day. Thick and heavy. Slowly, his fingers come to a stop, his eyes never leaving your face. The pad of his thumb brushes the bottom of your lip then pushes between your lips. You part your lips, eyes wide as Eddie places his thumb on your tongue, your lips puckering around his finger. Your eyes flutter closed again, his finger moving in and out of your mouth as you suck gently on his digit, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. 

“Such a good girl,” Eddie whispers, his voice shuddering as he feels your mouth enclose around his finger. “Such a bright student.” 

You can’t help but smile, the sound of Eddie complimenting you causing heat to creep up your neck to the apples of your cheeks. You sigh against his finger, letting your tongue cradle his thumb. Your clit begins to pulse, the anticipation beginning to kill you softly. Your eyes flutter open, letting your hands reach out to grasp his lower half, your fingers working to unbuckle his black, leather belt. Next, you pull down his fly, revealing a few inches of dark grey boxers, the outline of his cock growing more evident by the second. You let your fingers creep across the band of his jeans, using your upper arm strength to begin to tug downwards. 

Eddie pulls his thumb out of your mouth, stepping back to allow you the space to pull his pants and boxers down. You push yourself off the edge of the desk, kneeling down on the floor, in front of Eddie, to pull his pants down to his calves. Satisfyingly, Eddie’s thick cock bounces free from the confines of his jeans, his pink tip at your eye-level. With no hesitation, nor second thoughts, you take his cock into your hand, your mouth opening to welcome him down your throat. Eddie’s member bulges as you guide him gently down the canal of your throat, your lips puckering in a way that that’s you engulf him. You feel him shudder underneath your touch, his eyes pinching shut, his hand finding its way into the thickness of your hair. His fingers intertwine in your hair, allowing Eddie a good grip to guide you how he pleases. 

Eddie is only the second person you’ve ever fucked, though your positive the first time barely counts. And he’s certainly the biggest cock you’ve ever dealt with, surely ever seen. Your eyes begin to water as your throat expands to fit him inside, your throat walls beginning to ache at the work it has to do to fit him. Nonetheless, you move back and forth, tears beginning to threaten to spill over onto your cheeks, Eddie moving seamlessly in your mouth. Eddie begins to thrust gently into your mouth, his body moving in autopilot as he responds to the pleasure you provide by giving him head. You whimper and moan as he utilizes your throat in just the way he likes, Eddie deciding what temp you move at, as you hold onto his thighs for balance. 

Eddie feels himself getting nearly close, though he has no intention of finishing now. He wants his time with you to last even longer. Eddie backs his hips away from your mouth, letting his cock slip out of your mouth, a single spit string attached at the tip of his cock to your mouth. He leans forward, gripping his hand tightly around your upper arm and lifting you off the ground. With authority, he spins to around, pushing you towards the wooden desk again. Placing a hand on the middle of your back, he pushes you forward, legs pressed against the front of the desk, upper torso bent across the classroom desk. Your eyes and fists squeeze together tightly, the anticipation of feeling Eddie pushed inside of you leaving you on the very edge. You’ve waited for this moment for months. All your wildest fantasies coming true. 

Eddie gently kicks your ankles, spreading your legs apart further, gathering both of your wrists into his hands, behind your back. He leans forward, hovering near your ear. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.” Eddie says, his voice low. “I knew you were special when you walked into my classroom at the beginning of the semester – so perky, so eager to please.” 

You nod against the desk, feeling the muscles in your shoulder begin to burn from Eddie holding your wrists behind your back. “I wanted to be a good student, Professor Munson. The best one you ever had.” 

You hear the sound of Eddie moving behind you, feel the softness of his skin as he presses himself against you, his throbbing cock getting closer to your cunt. With his hand, Eddie guides his tip against your entrance. “How do you want it?” 

Truthfully, you wanted it every and any way. “Hard, rough. I want you so bad, I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Professor Munson. Please, I just want to be fucked.” 

Eddie can’t help it anymore, the sound of you practically begging for him, the way your voice contorts into a whine. It’s the hottest sound he believes he’ll ever hear. He lines himself up with you, his tip grazing your cunt. You sigh loudly, the feeling of him teasing your throbbing cunt makes your legs shiver and become weak. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, feeling like he could come all over your bare ass, the sight of you bending forward across his desk just enough to do the trick. But he refrains. With one hand, he spreads your ass cheeks apart, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Eddie’s heart beats against his chest, his fingers trembling with anticipation as he eases himself into you. Your slick cunt envelopes Eddie’s cock, tightening around him as he begins to thrust into you. His eyes roll back into his head, the feeling of you causing him to lose his breath. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, a whine escaping your lips. Your arms extend from behind your back out to the side, gripping onto the desk. “Oh fuck, Eddie.” You mumble, sighing as you speak. Your body goes from tense to slack, the feeling of Eddie rutting into you bringing you pure pleasure. “Keep going, don’t stop.” 

Eddie nods, though he knows you can’t see him. His body moves into you rhythmically, his cock driving entirely into you. Eddie watches for a moment, the way his cock moves into you slowly, your cunt swallowing him whole, and how when he pulls back, his cock is drenched in your arousal. He can’t help but moan in disbelief. 

As Eddie takes you from behind, his motions are slow and even, though your body begins to crave more as the seconds pass. You feel Eddie’s long fingers drip your hip bones; his fingernails blunt against your skin. Needing the feeling of Eddie moving through you at a faster pace, you begin to roll your hips against him, essentially using his cock to fuck yourself. Eddie’s eyes widen, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he watches you move against him. “Such a good girl, y/n.” Eddie says, leaning over to brush your hair that has gathered in front of your face. He watches as your face softens; your lips parting as little breaths escape your mouth. “Yes, Professor Munson,” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with a soft pink. 

Your back arches, your bottom lifting higher into the air. You squirm underneath Eddie’s grip, his stance holding you in place as he takes over thrusting into you. Eddie feels his knees becoming weak, the sensation of his core tightening in his lower abdomen causing him to flinch. Eddie would love nothing to more than to come into you, thick ropes of his cum filling your cunt, giving him the opportunity to watch it drip out of you. He chooses to refrain, knowing that getting a student pregnant would be worse than fucking a student. As Eddie fantasizes about all the places he wants to come on you, he senses your legs tremble underneath him, your arms extending reaching out across the table, gripping the edge. “Yes,” your voice coos. “Right there.” You clench around Eddie’s cock, your core burning as if you’ve touched the sun, legs trembling as you reach a peak, an intense wave bringing your orgasm through your body, straight down to your toes. 

Eddie watches mystified, the way your body shudders underneath his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, soft sighs and whines echoing across the empty classroom. Just you and him. Eddie is sure your orgasming, all because of his touch, is the most beautiful sight, pretty enough to be a historical painting, hung in the Louvre. 

After a moment, your body relaxes again, becoming limp as sweat collects across your body and in your hairline. Eddie pulls himself out of you, reaching to grab your forearm. With his strength, he pulls you across the desk, bringing you to your knees in front of him. For the first time in several moments, and he gets a look at your weathered face. Your lips are red and puckered, dried spit across your cheek. Your eyes are glassy, red rimming your eyes, black mascara smudged under your eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, pieces of your hair clinging to your face. You look tired, exhausted, yet you’re still so eager to please, your hands beginning to move towards Eddie’s cock that rests at your eye level. You lick your lips, missing the flavor of him inside your mouth. 

Eddie lets his fingers intertwine in your hair again, bringing you underneath his cock. You crouch down, looking up at Eddie through your eyelashes. You watch, arousal still collecting in your cunt, as Eddie strokes himself above you, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. “Come for me, Professor Munson. Let me find out how you taste.” 

Eddie’s eyes open, his eyes finding yours. Just then, ropes of cum dribble out of the tip of his cock, splashing onto your cheeks, across your nose. You lean up, resting your tongue just underneath his tip. In a slow flow, Eddie’s come dribbles onto your tongue, the sweet, yet salty, flavor causing your tastebuds to flair. You sigh, satisfaction playing across your face as you swallow Eddie’s load, more of his semen splattering your face as you do so. 

Once Eddie is finished, he’s out of breath, sweat causing dark spots across his ‘Metallica’ t-shirt. Eddie pulls his boxers and jeans up, glancing at you as he rights himself, zipping his fly and re-buckling his belt. You're slower to put your clothes on, liking the way it feels to have Eddie’s gaze on your naked body, his eyes taking in every curve of yours.  

Once you put your clothes back on, bending over to pick up your zip up hoodie and beginning to put your arms in the sleeve, Eddie coughs, standing awkwardly off to the side. “This can never happen again, y/n. This was a lapse in my judgment.” 

You pout, tossing him a glance. You bend over once more, picking your backpack up by one of the straps. “Professor Munson, please” you say, shaking your head. You run a hand through your hair, attempting to make it look as if you just didn’t get railed, by your professor, in a classroom. “We both know this is going to happen again, and again. Should I come to office hours next week?” 

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. Eddie knows it’s wrong to have relations with a student, likely to get him fired if anyone were to ever find out. But you were so enticing, irresistible. For a moment, Eddie wonders how many people you’ve been with. Where did you learn to be so appealing, to move your hips in such a way, pouting your lips and batting your lashes to draw in any man you please? Regardless, Eddie wants to know more about you, learn what else you want to do with him. “Yes, come to my office hours next week.” 

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