#and pasted it into their copy of the book

[heartepub]

if i loved you less

summary. wonwoo's biggest gamble starts a week before valentine's day. pairing. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader genre/tags. non-idol!au, friends to lovers, bookworm!reader, spoilers for a 210-year old novel, wonwoo wins most creative confession, suggestive at the end wc. 2.9k suggested listening. pretty u, seventeen // dreams, the cranberries // andante andante, abba // i will, the beatles // library card, janani k. jha // aphrodite, the ridleys

notes. late to a hearts day posting, but pls accept this humble offering in between thesis cramming! i first pitched this to kae waaay back, but unfortunately it is not royal/period au (sorry ueueue). i read aspen's accidental one night stand ww and dug around my wip's for this in a fit of madness LMAOOO as always, reblogs are appreciated and come say hi if you're so inclined 🫶🏼

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Wonwoo hands you a package wrapped in brown paper, tied neatly with twine. Your eyes light up as you accept it with a soft thank you.

“Aren’t you a week early?”

“I know,” he replies simply. “I wanted to ask you to finish reading this by Friday.” Your brow furrows.

“Is it something I can finish by then?” Wonwoo nods. You feel the weight the parcel in your hands, considering his strange request.

“What brought this on?” You ask. 

The shift is subtle, but you notice it nonetheless—a flicker of something passing across his eyes, and his shoulders tensing up before he pulls them down again. Wonwoo looks away, as though steeling himself for something.

“It’s my reading recommendation.”

“Yours?” You straighten. Wonwoo’s never gifted a book to you before based on his own taste. He always based it off your reading list, after being hopelessly lost navigating a bookstore and asking the clerk for help, only to give you a book wildly different from your preferences.

You hold the book close to your chest. “Can I open it now?”

“No.”

“Fine,” you pout, then frown as a thought comes to you. “Wait. I remember telling you I’m on a ban right now.”

Normally, Wonwoo was scrupulous about following your rules, one of which being that he can’t gift you a book if your current priority was reading through the ones you already had.

He seems to weigh his words carefully before replying. “I just thought this one was too important to pass up.”

You catch how his fingers curl and uncurl in his jacket, the poor fabric already wrinkled at his fidgeting. Trying to make your voice as soothing yet nonchalant as possible, you pull your lips up to a grin, thumbing the edge of the twine ribbon. “I suppose I can make an exception for my best friend.”

It seems to have the opposite effect.

There it is again—the subtle shift in his demeanor, the miniscule purse of his lip before Wonwoo speaks. “Do you have dinner plans, or are we doing movie night again?”

“Movie night sounds good. Any requests for food?”

Normally, Wonwoo would ask you to prepare ramyeon, especially after you had figured out Mingyu’s recipe, while he brought dessert. But his reply, like everything else in this conversation, is unexpected. “I’ll handle it.” He checks his watch before leveling you with an apologetic look. “I have to run. There’s a bunch of shit to do at work between, but I’ll see you on Friday?”

If he wanted to talk to you, he would. You’d never push him to say anything he wasn’t ready to share. You repeat this to yourself, even as you nod, maintaining your façade of soothing nonchalance.

“Yeah, see you.”

For the past couple of years, Wonwoo’s gift of choice has always been a book. After your protests at the price of new titles and your steadfast allegiance to your library card, among other reasons, the rules had been laid out as follows:

Copies should, as much as possible, not be brand new. They could be from thrift stores, secondhand shops, yard sales, or those Facebook groups where owners sold their old titles. Only new releases would be the exception, and even then, indie bookstores should be the first place to look.

Refer to the Notion page of your current to-be-read list for possible titles.

If you were on a book buying ban, so is he; it’s bad enough that your shelves continue to groan under the weight of books still unread. 

The first rule was for your indulgence, too. You happened to take home a volume of the Diaries of Anaïs Nin only to find notes scribbled in the marginalia, and fell in love immediately. It’s a rare thing in your collection, but you do have someone’s old Letters to Milena and Giovanni’s Room, the latter with annotations in Arabic, of all languages.

You stare at the unwrapped gift, heart in your throat.

Emma.

Wonwoo must have been lying when he said it was his recommendation; you have your own well-worn copy, annotations and all, sitting in the corner of your shelf dedicated to Austen. Hands shaking, you open your messages, snapping a photo of the book laying on the desk.

You [picture] ??? wonwoo?? (Seen)

He sees it almost immediately; three dots appear onscreen.

aa wonu It’s a gift. Don’t overthink it. But I hope you won’t get mad.

You is it smth I should be mad abt?

aa wonu Up to you.

You you know i’ve read emma, right

aa wonu Have you started reading this one yet?

You turn to Chapter 1, and gasp. There, in black ink, is Wonwoo’s familiar scrawl, remarks littering the blank space between the heading and the text. You flip through the first half, seeing how he’d write anything from a smiley face to bracket off entire passages with an exclamation point. Some brackets and underlines have longer annotations beside them that you have yet to read.

It’s all in black pen—so characteristically Wonwoo, who wouldn’t be the type to use different colored highlighters and page flags, anyway.

You oh my god. wonwoo

aa wonu The last time I read a classic was in high school Don’t judge me too harshly. Please. See you Friday?

You hesitate before replying.

You yeah ofc! see you!!

Your thumbs are shaking too badly as you type the last message; the phone gets thrown on your bed, bouncing once before resting on the pillow. A hand comes up to cover your mouth. You stare at the book, mind whirring.

Years ago, there had been a time when you entertained the thought of dating Jeon Wonwoo. In night-outs where he’d offer to get you home, a hand on your back to keep you from stumbling as you’d fumble for keys that always ended up at the bottom of your bag. He had even taken to keeping a pair of slippers in his car, in your size, for you to change into when your feet were hurting. Wonwoo never told you—he just knew your foot size, just cared in the understated, quiet way he always did. When you found out, you remember thinking that this would be the kind of man you wouldn’t mind offering your heart to. Thought that obviously he’d only do something like that for someone he was in love with.

Now, of course, after his exes and your own, and no confession in sight, you had buried your wishful thinking in the deepest parts of your heart. You’d even grown to appreciate it more, finding comfort in the care that was independent of any romantic expectation.

Wonwoo, your best friend, chose, out of all the books to annotate and gift you, Emma. You know how the story goes. He knows you know how it goes. Yet Wonwoo’s thoughts are here, immortalized and entrusted into your hands, the same hands you have now buried your face in while trying to reel in your breaths.

Today, that bird you had deprived of the sun beats its wings against your ribcage, insistent once more. Your body is simultaneously numb and buzzing with energy, as though it could not decide whether it wanted to freeze up or run a few hundred laps.

It could be nothing—could be like that time with the slippers again where you allowed yourself to be caught in your wishful thinking. You don’t know if your heart can take it if it isn’t. You don’t know if your heart can take it if it is.

You welcome Wonwoo in your apartment with a painfully bright grin, accepting his proffered bag of takeout before ushering him inside. He had offered only a soft hello, barely a smile on his face as he took off his shoes by your entrance. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep up any chatter while he washes his hands in your kitchenette, even as you busy yourself a few feet away with peeling off the tape on the plastic containers and wiping away any grease that leaked out.

“I’ll set up the table,” he breaks the silence, gaze unreadable. He’s already holding the two rice containers, and two pairs of chopsticks from your stash. 

You paste on a smile, tape still sticking to your fingers. “Sure.” 

He walks away. Not even when Wonwoo had broken up with his last partner, who made him choose between them and you, has it been this awkward. Steeling yourself, you join him, setting down the plate of chicken and bowl of steaming kimchi jjigae a safe distance from the laptop.

Before you begin eating, you hold up a hand for him to wait. Reaching into a nearby drawer, you pull out and offer your own present—a beta-release of a game he had been eyeing for some time now. Wonwoo’s eyes soften.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as though he hadn’t been expecting you to gift him anything.

“Of course,” you respond immediately. Wonwoo glances at you before looking away. He always sits across you when you eat, and you catch the micro-changes in his expression as he shifts, staring hard at a spot on your floor before picking up his chopsticks. He looks at anything but you. The sound of the bamboo breaking seems to echo around the space.

Eventually, it’s too much for you to bear. You square your shoulders, inhaling a quick, sharp breath.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you begin, tentatively.

“…I thought about not coming,” he replies, raising his eyes to meet yours, which have not yet looked way from him. He looks away again. Something in your chest twists painfully, even if your body is buzzing with repressed adrenaline.

“Do you still want to watch a movie? Or are we gonna talk about it?”

Wonwoo’s eyes are guarded. “Is there anything to talk about?” he replies, an edge in his voice. “You never messaged after that day.” 

“I thought you wanted today to be the day we talked about it? Seemed like too big of a thing to discuss over text.” And you had spent the last week agonizing over what to feel, how to feel, what to say, and how to say it. He presses his lips together, fixing his gaze on the piece of napa cabbage resting on top of his rice. The broth stains the grains around it with a tint of red. 

He rests his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl before leaning back, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. It’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be sorry.” The response feels automatic, but you do mean it. He has nothing to be sorry for.

You look at him, really look, searching his features. There’s something in his eyes that breaks your heart—as though he had come here already expecting heartbreak, yet showed up nonetheless. 

Just like that, all the questions, any plans you had for today, vanish like smoke. 

“Just—just wait here.” You set your chopsticks on your bowl. The bamboo clacks softly right before the chair creaks as you stand, stumbling back a little as you turn to your bedroom. 

“Where is that—” you mutter. “Aha!” You run back to the table, where Wonwoo is waiting. Under his fingers, the takeout napkin is all but shreds, though he does try to hide it under the table once you arrive. You approach him, dragging your chair so you can sit beside him, nothing separating you.

“Hold out your hands,” you instruct. Wonwoo does, and you set down a copy of Emma on his waiting palms. But not the one he gave you the other day. It’s yours, the one you’ve owned for many years.

Wonwoo stares at it, before lifting his gaze to you. 

“Did you know,” you begin softly. “I used to like Persuasion the most. I loved how it was written, how both characters were more mature than the ones in her other books. Pride and Prejudice had my favorite characters. But Emma…”

You thumb at its spine, and then at the crease on the cover, a thin white line disrupting what would have been solid black. Its careworn edges are familiar under your fingertips, and you know if you fan the pages in front of your nose it will smell like the characteristic scent of old books.

“Emma is the one I reread the most. At least, certain parts of it.” There’s a page marked—the scene where Mr Knightly finally lays his heart bare to Emma. From behind your back, you bring out his gift, flicking through the pages until you find the same page in this copy, Wonwoo’s only highlight in a book annotated with black pen. 

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

In your copy, there’s the same, with a note in your handwriting—in the script you first learned in high school and tried to revisit some years ago before giving up: me!!! but also me when!!!!!

Wonwoo looks at both of these, mouth parted. You know how sharp he is, how the pieces have already come together in his mind. 

“Really?” He asks, voice soft, as though he can hardly believe it. The only thing left is for him to believe it. You know, because you are the same. It was only the heartbreak in his eyes, the anticipated rejection at the start, that made it sure for you. 

Tentatively, your hands wander, moving from clasping the book to cupping his hands, cool under your own. You glance down at the book.

“‘If I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.’” Finally, you allow the giddy smile to spread across your face. Your heart flutters against your ribs, so utterly alive. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

His lips twitch upward. After a moment, he begins to chuckle, and the weight on his shoulders seems to dissolve before your eyes. You begin to laugh too, simply out of the sheer relief of finally realizing that the past few days are now behind both of you. 

“In case it isn’t obvious, Jeon Wonwoo, I’ve been in love with you too.” You whisper. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. Where before, he was afraid to look at you, now, it seems it’s all he can do. The fondness in his gaze is enough to bring anyone to their knees.

“Thank God,” he whispers back. You just stay there, basking in the moment, letting the joy finally seep itself into bones that have been weighed by resignation for so long. After a while, you begin to pull away, only you catch how Wonwoo’s gaze drops down as you do. You pause, gazing at him questioningly.

There’s a minute tremble in his hands as he reaches for your face, brushing your cheek with his fingers. His thumb traces a line on your jaw. He leans in, but stops, watching your reaction first before closing the distance all the way.

Though his approach was hesitant, the kiss itself is anything but. His hands find your cheek, then your neck, then your waist, pulling you further forward. You thread your fingers through his hair, both to bring him closer and to anchor yourself. There’s the faint taste of spicy broth, but you don’t care, knowing you’re the same anyway.

“That was hell of a gamble for Valentine’s,” you murmur once he pulls away, shaking your head. “Why now? How long have you known?”

Wonwoo just smiles. “It’s been a few months since either of us had a partner. And after the last one, when I was made to choose…they called me out on how unfair I was being, trying to be with them even as they knew I was in love with someone else.”

Your breath catches in your throat even as he continues.

“I tried to deny it, at the time, but they knew even before I did.” he finishes. He tilts his head and leans forward, closing the distance again. It’s more insistent now, the hands on your waist fully pulling you onto his lap. Wonwoo’s teeth nip at your lower lip, and you gasp. It shifts from chaste into something more demanding; his hands wander, fingers trailing paths of fire as they run across your back and grip your waist, as though he were finally releasing everything that had been pent up in him until this moment. 

He swallows you into himself, and you allow yourself to be pulled into his passion. His mouth moves, latching down onto your neck and sucking. A quiet, shuddering moan leaves your lips. Wonwoo freezes. He pulls away, stricken, looking at you.

“Sorry,” he rasps. “I took it too far.” His hair is mussed, lips swollen and puffy. Something in your stomach stirs as you look at him like this—a Wonwoo you’d never seen before. A Wonwoo who is like this because of you. “I—”

You kiss him again, just because you can. Just a small thing, a tender reassurance. Pulling away, you smile. Absently, you play with the short strands of hair at his nape. “You’re okay. I don’t think I’m up for anything, er, more, tonight, but can we please keep kissing.”

After a beat, he chuckles, shoulders relaxing as his thumbs trace circles on your waist. Wonwoo leans in, lets your lips meet again in a slow dance, almost lazy. Like you finally have all the time in the world.

“Okay. But maybe after dinner and brushing our teeth. I’m still hungry.”

“Deal.”

Behind your ribs, the bird flies, finally free.

[gearsandhammers]

NOT GOOD WITH WORDS : VIKTOR X M!READER

synopsis : viktor's always been a reserved guy, but you make him feel things he's never felt before. he's cried during sad movies, laughed with jayce, but never has he felt like how he does when he's with you. will he finally do something about it?

warnings / tw : you, viktor, and jayce are academy students , viktor is clueless about love , socially awkward vitkor , grammarly is my beta

pairing : viktor x male reader | m/m (could be m/gn)

author's notes : hiya! okay so the letter written in this fic is actually one i wrote 2 years ago that i legitimately have no recollection of and just found.. i didn't read it through fully and kinda just copy pasted it so hopefully its not dogshit but oh well... valentine's day has always been lonely for me, so i hope this can bring comfort to anyone who's spending val's day alone this year─ but you're not alone. anyways as always have a good read and an amazing day/night! xo, kai

Viktor's only been at the academy for one year, but he's found his place pretty quickly. He and Jayce are thick as thieves, and you've been hanging out with them too, as of late. He tries to hide it, but Viktor has a huge crush on you. At this point, Jayce can't even tell if Viktor has figured it out yet. He knows Viktor hasn't ever been in a relationship, but he has no clue if he's ever had a crush before. Scratch that, he knows he hasn't, the way Viktor acts around you.

Viktor's never been good with talking, but you've read some of his writing, and your jaw dropped. The way he writes, you'd never be able to tell it was Viktor who wrote it. The way he words things so eloquently, how the letters seem to flow from his pen like it's second nature.

Valentine's Day is either the best or worst day of the year for a lot of people. You've collectively decided to just stay in and try not to think about the fact that it's Valentine's Day. You don't expect to get anything, you never have, so your expectations are basically as low as they can be.

So when you open your locker at the end of the day and there's a sealed envelope sitting there on top of your books, you're a little confused. You look around, thinking at first that it's a prank or something. But when you open the letter and start reading it, your heart swells.

· ─ ─ < ⟨ ৻ꪆ ⟩ > ─ ─ ·

Dearest,

I'm not good with words, but for you, I tried. You're the best thing that's happened to me. I sit here with pen in hand, my heart brimming with emotions that have long been confined within the depths of my being. Today, I gather the courage to express the feelings that have blossomed within me, unfurling like a delicate flower under the warmth of the sun. Please bear with me as I pour my heart out onto this page. From the moment our eyes first met, a spark ignited within me, illuminating a path that led straight to you. You may not have noticed, but in those stolen glances and fleeting moments, my heart began to whisper your name.

With every encounter, my admiration for you grew, and soon, admiration blossomed into something deeper and more profound. Your presence in my life is a symphony of joy and wonder. Your smile, so radiant, has the power to dissolve any worries that burden my soul. Your laughter, like a melody, dances in the air and brings warmth to the coldest of days. Your kindness, a beacon of light in a world sometimes dark and unforgiving, has touched my heart in ways I struggle to put into words. In your company, I feel a sense of belonging, a feeling that I have found my missing puzzle piece. Your words, so genuine and filled with wisdom, captivate my mind and nourish my spirit. Your mere presence electrifies the air around us, creating a magnetic force that draws me closer to you, igniting a fire within my soul.

I am enamored by the intricacies that make you who you are—the way your eyes light up when you speak about your passions, the way your voice carries a quelling melody, and the way your touch lingers on my skin long after you're gone. Every facet of your being, every nuance, has etched itself deeply into my heart. It is true that love can be a tumultuous journey, filled with uncertainties and vulnerabilities. Yet, in the face of these uncertainties, I am willing to take the leap, for the thought of a life without your presence feels incomplete and devoid of color. The thought of never having the opportunity to explore the depths of our connection fills me with an ache that reverberates through my very being.

I am not asking for an immediate answer, nor am I expecting you to reciprocate these feelings. Instead, I write this letter as an offering, a testament to the authenticity of my emotions. My intention is to lay bare the truth of my heart, to let you know that you have become an indelible part of my thoughts, my dreams, and my aspirations. Should you ever find it in your heart to explore the possibility of us, I would be honored to embark on this journey of love with you. But if the feelings I express today do not find a place in your own heart, I will still cherish the moments we've shared, and I will forever hold you in the deepest recesses of my soul.

Thank you for inspiring me to open my heart and embrace the vulnerability that accompanies love. You have given me the gift of experiencing a love so profound and beautiful that it has forever changed me. I love you,

~ V ৻ꪆ

· ─ ─ < ⟨ ৻ꪆ ⟩ > ─ ─ ·

Your jaw hangs open, staring at the cursive V at the bottom of the page. Every sentence left your heart a little heavier, small tears welling in your eyes, but you sniffle and wipe them away. You're in shock as you stare at the page, dumbfounded. Your heart rate picks up, and your brain finally registers that you read. Oh, my gods. Oh my gods, what just happened? I need to find Vik─ wait, oh my. I can't do that, I gotta find... wait, no. I need to find Vik.

You gently put the letter back into the envelope and into your bag. You run around the academy, bumping into a few people along the way, but don't stop to apologize. You finally find him after a full 15 minutes, walking out of the academy, books in hand. "Viktor!" you yell, desperately trying to get his attention. He turns, and his face immediately turns bright red. You run towards him, clutching your bag. You run into him, wrapping your arms around his body, and his cane clatters to the ground. "V- Vik.." You gasp, trying to catch your breath.

"I- I'm sorry. I know I ruined everything and I─" he tries to apologize, but he's interrupted by you. You grab his face, making him look at you. You attempt to search his eyes but fail, your eyes too blurry from the tears you tried to hold back. Tears stream down your face, and you try to blink them away so you can see him.

"V, I- oh my gods, Vik. Please don't apologize, please. You didn't ruin anything. I love you too, V. I love you so so so much, Viktor," you pant. Before he even tries to speak again, your lips collide, and you pull him flush against you. The sensations of your body against his makes his whole body react, going tense. After a few moments, he melts into you, his brain finally recognizing that you actually kissed him. Moments pass, and you pull away to breathe.

"Gods, I love you," he says, in between gasps and sobs, tears flowing from his eyes too. He's still sort of in shock, clearly not expecting this sort of reaction or response from you. He presses his forehead to yours, and you hold his hands.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love."

[leam1983]

I started to write something to the tune of "it's probably not fully designed by AI, come on, now" - but then I decided to go digging...

KC Crowne is... enigmatic, to say the least. No name like that pops up when you look through publishers known to cover the Romance genre - but y'know where her name does pop up? Amazon. The same Amazon that has a self-publishing platform. One of the first few links is a Shopify page that offers forty novels in a bundle at 30% off, and her Biography is so minimalistic and twee you're left with only one explanation.

KC Crowne actually exists, but she's the creation of someone who's picked up one of several AI-directed cons involving self-publishing. Give ChatGPT a prompt, keep telling it to expand on its first output for a romance novel, copy-paste the results in a Word document, then fire that off to Amazon's platform after using Midjourney, a paid-for Stock Photo license and some basic Photoshop skills to slap a cover together.

Her Goodreads reviews are suspect, in that quite a few have variations on the same basic statements. Put all that together and you're left with one heck of a head-scratcher: namely that the cost of all of this can't possibly be lower than the meagre returns from these book sales. If you're an Amazon bestseller peddling AI slop, I have to question if you're bringing in the same numbers as actually skilled authors...

[miatsai]

Cover reveal time! And since it's already been on Paste all day, I'm just gonna put it here! The Memory Hunters is about museum ethics and who gets to tell your story! It's got lesbians! It's got mushrooms! It's got ethnomusicology! It does not have a stunt team or a hero who saves everyone! This is the kind of book that has a reference list in the back, fake academic journals cited in the epigraphs, and an in-universe literature review! Be aware!

Also chapter one is in the link above!

Want to support the author? Preorder your copy from Charis Books & More, which is the Southeast's oldest feminist bookstore and is proudly gay and BIPOC and trans and fully rainbow and which also runs support groups for trans youth, trans adults, and parents of trans kids, and you'll get a signed, embossed, and personalized book, along with a special custom book plate I've commissioned from a local artist.

https://www.charisbooksandmore.com/book/9781645662082

[thebrainrotsreal]

Was pondering how Mark’s rigid ass mask/lens is prob a Budget Thing (since squishy, bendy lens are pretty much a mandate for all hero animated series, like JL, BTAS, TNBA, Spider-Man, etc), and then I was slapped with a vision of Mark in a more JL/BTAS-ish style and I had to see it through. I am a genius btw.

[silverwhittlingknife]

poem: "accident report in the tall, tall weeds" by ada limón

[fleariddenart]

Ortho and a butterfly!

[latenightsushi]

I thought I got rid of most of our duplicates, but I guess we still have two copies of Moby-Dick

X

[archfeykoi]

maybe i'm afraid of you

[billtober days 3 & 4—trust no one & blind eye]

[radiomogai]

[PT: Desirdutch

A desirdae (link) term for when one yearns/desires/wants to be Dutch, whether partially or fully, it's up for the user to decide. Reasons may include: Atypical dysphoria, alter who is Dutch, and/or having family whos Dutch.

Tips: Try to learn the language if you can! As well as learning about the culture there, like the foods or traditions! Bookstores sometimes might have travel books/pamphlets, which you can look at recommended places in Sweden as well. Copy and pasted from my desirswedish post.

Coined by the final man.

Tags: radiomogai, smilepilled, desirdae-archive

Requested by anon. / end PT]

PT pasted from under the cut for archival and accessibility purposes

Desirdutch A desirdae term for when one yearns / desires / wants to be Dutch , whether partially or mostly , it ' s up for the user to decide . Reasons may include : atypical dysphoria , alter who is Dutch , and / or having family who is Dutch .

Tips : Try to learn the language if you can ! As well as learning about the cultures , like the foods or traditions ! Bookstores sometimes might have these travel books / pamphlets , which you can look at recommended places in Sweden as well . Copy and pasted from my desirswedish post .

Coined by the final man . Tags : @radiomogai, @smilepilled, @desirdae-archive Requested by anon

Pt under cut, help with IDs appreciated !

[PT: Desirdutch A desirdae (link) term for when one yearns/desires/wants to be Dutch, whether partially or fully, it's up for the user to decide. Reasons may include: Atypical dysphoria, alter who is Dutch, and/or having family whos Dutch. Tips: Try to learn the language if you can! As well as learning about the culture there, like the foods or traditions! Bookstores sometimes might have travel books/pamphlets, which you can look at recommended places in Sweden as well. Copy and pasted from my desirswedish post.

Coined by the final man. Tags: radiomogai, smilepilled, desirdae-archive Requested by anon. / end PT]

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

My brain imploded when I made this

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 2 - Hunny Slider

[neechees]

Has anyone made a list of all the things SJM has straight up stolen & plagiarized from other books/movies/shows/etc bc i feel like there should be one. I don't wanna do it bc i don't wanna read her shitty books

[dykedvonte]

My only defense of conceptual follower Benny is that he was a warrior nomad and a raider, that still has it in him if we take the All Roads comic into consideration, and how he is not like a real dainty soft hand city slicker, cause it’s mostly an act.

So in scenarios where he is forced to travel with the Courier I 100% think he’d be like “What do ya mean you can’t scale a mountain, pussycat? Watch how the pros do it.” And then you see him scuttle up a cliff face scarily fast only to have to save him when he bumps into a Cazador nest.

[aroaceleovaldez]

Something something Jason feeling like he doesn't quite fit as "Greek" or "Roman" as a metaphor for bisexuality, particularly the semi-canonical bi-coding in his half of experiences during the Cupid scene and how Favonius and Cupid speak to him in parallel to the scenes confirming Nico is gay.

Something something the camps as metaphors for traditionally acceptable forms of relationships and Nico living as a rogue outside of them, rejecting expectation (ergo in himself representing a metaphor of queer identity and living outside of boxes and defined/usually hetero-allonormative/binary ideas of what love/relationships should look like) versus Jason struggling with the expectation to conform to a label and even discussing with Nico both of them remaining at CHB together.

Something something the inverse of Jason shifting away from the camps after he breaks up with Piper, feeling lost and unable to find a place between the camps as he begins to explore his queer identity properly for the first time versus Nico only remaining at CHB because he has entered a relationship. In this essay I will-

[proselles]

Shu yanyans master plan being to teach wenrenjiang how to have sex so fucking nasty they seclude themselves for fifty years so she can take over the sect is such an iconic move on her part