#because it's stupid and that was mostly the point

[kiragecko]

Do you think Cass's writers KNEW how harmful Babs' teaching methods were?

Cass and/or Babs fans who have read the first Batgirl series and/or No Man's Land, what do you think?

I'll get into the details in a moment, but my guess is they were trying to write Babs as a fallible mentor, but were ignorant about just how much damage she would realistically be causing. I'd like to get second opinions, because I've spent enough time studying communication with nonverbal people that I no longer know what people actually KNOW.

Anyways, here's the stuff I want to know if you guys think is intentional:

When we first meet Cass, Babs is trying to teach her to read. Babs is showing her the word 'stop' and getting Cass to sound out the letters. This is ... not a good idea.

Some of the errors Cass makes (starting with a 'd' sound and correcting to 't', for example) suggest that Cass is still learning HOW TO MAKE SOUNDS. She's still teaching her body how to shape her mouth and throat, when to vibrate her vocal cords - the physical aspects of speech. That's HARD, and deserves focus so it can be learned properly!

We later learn she only knows a small number of words. She's still learning to associate sounds with meaning. That's HARD, and deserves focus so it can be learned properly!

She's also still learning to match letter shapes to sounds. THAT IS ALSO HARD AND DESERVES FOCUS SO SHE CAN LEARN IT PROPERLY!

By conflating reading, speech, AND understanding, Babs is making Cass' job MUCH MUCH more difficult! Each of those, and a dozen smaller aspects of communication, all need months of prioritization, without competition from other aspects.

-

Throughout Batgirl, Babs pressures Cass to read. Cass is still learning to parse meaning from the words downloaded into her head. She struggles to organize them into sentences. She struggles to understand the nuances of what other people are saying. Once again, these are all important things that she should be encouraged to focus on! Reading is nice, but at this point it shouldn't be the priority. By ignoring the skills Cass IS building, and pushing Cass towards competing skills she doesn't have the prerequisites for, Babs is slowing down Cass' progress and providing negative feedback loops.

-

Babs seems to equate reading with communicating. Possibly because of her past as a librarian and the obvious value she gets from reading. Possibly because her current job is as an information broker and hacker. Possibly because her own disability limits her physically, and reading and writing has become necessary for interacting with the outside world. Possibly because she is living vicariously through the new Batgirl. And possibly because her eidetic memory suggests she thinks in words and can't actually imagine thought in other ways.

Cass is probably never going to use reading as a primary communication method, and would have benefited froma learning regimen that works with her skills, rather than pushing through her weaknesses.

-

Here's the stuff I'm pretty sure was intentional:

Babs calls Cass stupid for not being able to read during a high pressure situation that is triggering Babs. This is obviously wrong, and she feels awful about it.

Babs is frequently impatient with Cass' progress, and sometimes accuses her of not trying, or not caring enough. She makes comments in front of other people without thinking. These are all shown as problematic and hurtful.

-

Here's the things I think Babs did right:

Babs sets up a computer system that can be navigated by voice, and can interpret vague instructions. It provides visual, as well as verbal, information for everything Cass asks about. Cass is never pressured to use a different system.

Babs mostly allows Cass to explore, and builds lessons around Cass' interests. She integrates life skills into her lessons, and actually does a REALLY good job at helping Cass build enough of a foundation to start getting curious about the world.

She usually backs off when Cass gets stubborn, which lets Cass recover, and keep some agency.

She MOSTLY doesn't co-opt Cass' growing friendship with Steph. She supports them, and doesn't try to use Steph to push Cass in the directions Babs wants her to go.

Other than stuff around speech and literacy, I actually think the writers did a good job of writing a flawed but caring mentor who actually helped more than she harmed.

-

What do you guys think?

[inbabylontheywept]

Coming here from your post 13 hours ago, but can you elaborate on the "I think this is also why most of the lawyers that I meet are insane in their personal lives." part?

That sounds like a really interesting theory. If not, that's ok too.

Thanks for reading this ask and have a good day.

Sure. It's totally pulled straight from my ass, but here's my argument:

People that spend a lot of time learning how to change other people's minds will inevitably unlock the ability to change their own mind. It's the same skill set. Any sword sharp enough to cut someone else is sharp enough cut the wielder. Basic yin yang shit.

The majority of a lawyers job is to be convincing. It's what they're minmaxed for. In a psychologically healthy person, one's convincingness muscles would never become that developed. But because we, as a society, are stupid, we pick out a decent percentage of our smartest people, and we tell them to excercise those muscles and those muscles only. For the unlucky majority, this just means that they wind up slowly accumulating weird conspiracies which no one can actually talk them out of believingf. The lucky winners become so good at convincing themselves of whatever they need to believe to win at that moment that they eventually wind up making millions. Mostly arguing all the cases that even the other lawyers couldn't dream of without actually literally gagging.

(Case in point)

My evidence for this is that it sounds kind of believable, and also makes fun of lawyers. Who I hate. My evidence against this is that any essay that could be titled Here Is Why The People That I Hate Actually Do Suck should probably be taken with several gains of salt.

[6okuto]

(Subtle) Care for a Depressive Episode

GN!reader x Ais, Vere, Mhin | cw: depression symptoms e.g. isolation, anhedonia, irritation, sleeping problems/insomnia (not too deeply! mostly a mention before saying what the chara would do). food and checking if you're eating (<- vere's)

for the anon who requested on wifeiy!! made sure to talk about your ideas of course 🦔

AIS

If you notice Princess and other Soulless approaching you more, being more affectionate and playful, I'm not saying that was (all) Ais, but I'm also not denying that they might be cooking. His pet spoiling is put on hold for spoiling You! :') Buying things you've needed or wanted recently, doing that "bought extra of your favourite do you want some" trick, etc.

If you enjoy physical affection, he puts in an effort to give you more. Maybe it's a kiss to your head while he walks past, hugging you from behind while you're distracted, a hand rubbing your thigh while you sit down together. It's subtle things he can brush off as his general casual affection. Neither of you really have to bring it up, both of you knowing what he's doing

^ He teases you less when you initiate (depending on your... vibe... it'll be a light comment). Just lets you wrap his arms around you and approaches whenever you ask. Sometimes you hug him silently, and he doesn't try to ask what's wrong. Just holds you and lets you let go first

Not good at small talk?... Ais is a small talk lover suddenly. Little check-ins to see how your day is going. He has never loved talking more about what he did today so you're still in the loop. <- Guy who noted things he could/would bring up to you later

If you're in an isolation stay-at-home state, at some point, you might realize Ais hasn't been going out to bars as much, instead staying with you or picking quieter spots. He chooses his words carefully so you don't think you're 'keeping him from having fun' or something—maybe he says the crowd's been more annoying than usual, or he needs a break from the smell of cheap drinks and piss, or that he likes spending time with you more. Y'know how it goes.

If you're dealing with anhedonia, not enjoying the things you usually do or feeling pleasure really at all, it's. Shit. Like Fuck my stupid baka life. Ais checks on you and sees how well you're sleeping, asks you to join him on a walk, maybe asks you to talk to him about your hobbies and teach him something. Just seeing if it'll get you up and moving

Always love the thought of him teaching you phrases!! Maybe you're in a bad mood and curse first, and he responds in a different language. You look at him like ...? and he smiles and says it again. Gonna use Korean because I'm familiar HABFHB but he'd be like, "씨발. Fuck," and ask if "You wanna learn some, sparrow?"

^ He'll teach you anything from "bastard" to "your shirt looks like shit and so does your face" if it distracts you for a while. Though I think it would also be cute if he complimented you and taught you sweet things too! Only for usage between you two, of course. (Jokingly complains he can't secretly call you attractive anymore without you understanding. Grins when you laugh.)

VERE

Leniency... He already has more for you than most others, but even the things he jokingly gives you shit for are now okay. Not just that but he like, makes the first step? Gives you the opportunity? If you know he doesn't like his tail being touched and wouldn't try first, he'll rest it against your thigh and won't move (other than a reflexive flick) when you touch it.

^ With the leniency, if you're easily annoyed or angered, he doesn't necessarily let your remarks slide (take a breath or reword what you just said), but he doesn't hold it against you, either.

He mentions different events and performances that are supposed to happen and gauging your reaction. You might be happily surprised when they coincidentally happen to be (related to) things you enjoy, even and especially if Vere doesn't particularly like them himself. If you don't want to go, that's fine, he didn't want to go much either. You can spend the evening together instead

Vere is generally more... blunt or pushy than the others... when it comes to getting you to do things. His subtlety manifests in how he won't explicitly say "Hey this is good for you and your depression" rather than actually Subtly Suggesting or Doing Things. If that makes Any sense. He's putting a meal on your desk and checking to see if you've eaten it—he's brought his own so you can enjoy a meal together.

...Nicer. Still Vere, but maybe he drops genuine compliments more often. You say something self-deprecating or try to deflect and he doesn't let it slide. (already does this but he's a little more firm about it if it happens a lot)

I love the idea of him doing art with you! Even just drawing in the same room because he never lets anyone see the finished product let alone his process, so when he sits down and doesn't mind you watching him, it means a lot I think. If he happens to draw a place or object that you really like, well, it's just practice y'know. He lets you keep it too

If you want to partake, he's.. maybe surprisingly? chill and good about it? If art isn't one of your interests, he gives you tips and likes whatever you draw, even if you don't. Maybe you do something simple together! Or something purposefully ass! You draw him and his ear twitches and his tail swishes a little.

If he knows you're already into art, he teases and say he has expectations considering he's lending some of his best supplies, but y'know. He seems satisfied no matter what you end up doing because at least he's gotten you focused on something

When Vere 'gets sleepy', he finds you to fall asleep next to. When he really wants to nap or sleep, he pulls you into bed and wraps an arm around your waist, tail curling around you both. Sometimes this is a lie and he just wants to stick near you and give you an opportunity to be affectionate if you'd like! Silly guy

You brushing his tail... Vere offering to brush or wash yours... very gentle and careful and thorough(?)... yeah...

MHIN

Of course they'll take you around to see the cats. In case you aren't well-acquainted with the little angels already, for every cat you point at, Mhin will teach you their name and describe how they met or share a fun fact (e.g. He has no survival sense and will show you his stomach immediately, She likes to climb your pants, Those two always sleep in that corner together, etc.)

And if you laugh at them when a cat jumps at them or catches them off-balance or whatever else, Mhin only jokingly huffs but never gets annoyed at any person or cat present.

They ask if you'd like to help cut up the fish and feed them, or even fish when evening comes. If you're nervous or aren't very good at it at first, they quietly help and encourage you, complimenting you when you succeed. It's good to have a schedule and something like a family of cats to look forward to, so Mhin always asks you to accompany them for the meals :]

Sorry for the 3 cat points. Like it's my fault or unexpected

You can try to help each other fall asleep, or at least stay up Together. The demons are always the worst at night... Mhin is good company, and they know what it's like wishing you could just go to bed the Whole night. Maybe you make a couple drinks and talk about nothing and everything!

If they notice you're distant or debating asking for physical affection throughout the day, Mhin silently moves to cuddle you that night, and every night. If you squeeze, they squeeze. If you try to sink further into them, they pull you in as much as they can. They'll tuck your head under their chin and rub circles into your back as long as you need.

Mhin getting you a little gift or trinket... They know it isn't a lot, but since they're doing commissions so much of the day, they figure a little cat figure might keep you company while they're gone

They already take care to clean themselves and their things before coming home, but I think. They take extra care. So that you don't worry about them or have to see something that might otherwise make you feel worse

Incredibly good at figuring out where you've been if you're staying distant. Even if they don't happen to Pop up while you're there, they'll do stuff like leave little things for you to find (something to give the cats? a cool coin?), anonymously send a drink or meal your way, etc.

If there's something you wanted to do with them earlier that Mhin declined, now is the time that they bring it up again. Like yeah, okay, let's go visit those stores, they have to scope out the area. You wanted to know how Mhin was on that rooftop before, right? If you still want to know, they're going again tonight to stargaze

i hope this helps a little and you're doing ok friend.. if u (or anyone!) would like a solo drabble or something less subtle or anything else,, just let me know! we're in this depression shit together fr🦔🪩🤍

[fawnme1]

THE SOFTEST THING — WILLNE

CHAPTER FIVE

previous part ,, next part

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

The following weekend, you found yourself agreeing to dinner with Will.

Sort of.

You technically agreed to have dinner with Will because — well, he asked, and you were curious. And maybe a little sick of the endless teasing. The internet had gone wild, your fans were practically stalking you at this point, and your friends wouldn’t stop messaging you about the situation.

But mostly, you agreed because deep down, despite the fact that you both pretended this wasn’t anything serious, you kind of wanted to see where this went. And honestly? If you could get through all the internet chaos without someone bringing up your five-year dry spell again, you might be able to enjoy this meal without dying of secondhand embarrassment.

So here you were, seated at a cozy little restaurant, the kind with dim lighting and overly attentive waiters, and — god, why did it feel like the world was watching?

Will showed up exactly on time, dressed casually but still looking effortlessly attractive in that way that made you wonder if this was really some kind of unofficial date or if your brain was just telling you that because of all the stupid fan edits you’d seen.

“Hey,” he said, taking a seat across from you, smiling that half-smile that had probably gotten him out of a few sticky situations in his life.

“Hey,” you replied, fiddling with the menu. “So, uh, this is… normal, right?”

“Totally normal,” he assured you, leaning back in his chair. “Just two people having dinner. No weird expectations.”

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing him skeptically. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve probably got a lot of questions after all the online drama, huh?”

“Maybe just a few,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “Just don’t ask me about my five years of emotional fasting.”

“I’m not the one who brought it up,” Will teased. “I’m actually here for the food.”

“Sure you are,” you snorted, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “It’s the only reason I agreed to come out here. Food’s good.”

The waiter came by to take your orders, but all you could think about was how strange it felt to be sitting across from Will, like you were both pretending to be casual about something neither of you wanted to to admit: there was a tension hanging between you two that no amount of casual conversation could entirely dissolve.

And as the night wore on, the banter didn’t stop, the teasing continued, but so did the undeniable spark between you.

“So, is this weird for you?” Will asked after a few drinks and some back-and-forth about bad takeaways.

You blinked. “What? The fact that you’re here in front of me? Yeah, pretty weird.”

He grinned. “Okay, not like that. I mean… all this? They way people keep talking about us?”

You thought about it for a moment, trying to find a way to answer without sounding too much like you were actually enjoying the attention.

“I mean, yeah. I can’t open Twitter without seeing you making heart-eye emojis or whatever,” you said, a little too defensive, a little too not casual. “It’s kind of weird. But I guess if we’re both doing it…”

“You can’t blame the fans,” he replied with a shrug, but his gaze softened. “They just see what we don’t always let ourselves see, y’know? They’re not wrong.”

There was that silence again.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or if Will was just finally being real, but all of a sudden it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. It didn’t feel like a game where you both were just pretending.

You looked up at him, your words finally coming out more carefully. “You mean you’re not just playing along?”

Will’s face shifted, something more sincere breaking through the casualness. He leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough to make you feel like you were the only one at the table. “I don’t’t play when I’m with someone I actually like, y’know?”

Your heart skipped a beat. No matter how much you wanted to brush it off, there it was, dangling infront of you.

Your phone buzzed on the table, a text from Joe that read:

Joe: is it a date?? if so i need details

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear to god, I’m never telling Joe anything again.”

Will chuckled, his voice soft but teasing. “I bet he’s already plotting the wedding date.”

“He definitely is,” you muttered. “But I’m just here for the food. No strings attached, right?”

Will paused, and for a moment, he seemed to consider it. “Yeah. No strings,” he agreed.

But the way his eyes lingered on yours as he said it — slow, calculating, like he knew this wasn’t as simple as it sounded — made you wonder if you were both lying to each other and the world.

And when the waiter dropped the bill on the table, Will covered it without hesitation, his hand brushing yours just for a moment longer than needed.

It was a move so small but so loaded with meaning that it made your chest tight.

Maybe this wasn’t just a meal. Maybe it was just another step in the inevitable that you were both trying to deny.

[markantonys]

My Mom Reacts To: wheel of time season 3 episodes 1-4 (no book spoilers)

season 1 (book spoilers)

season 2 episodes 1-4 (no book spoilers)

season 2 episodes 5-8 (book spoilers)

she found her handwritten list of characters from when we watched s2 back in 2023, i couldn't believe it haha below is her summary of some of the gang as she was trying to jog her memory

lan: the one i really love mat: the one who got recast perrin: the big guy nynaeve: the healer rand and egwene: the ones who should be a couple but probably won't be

(i don't know if she meant that *she thinks* they should be a couple, as her personal opinion, or if she was just describing the general narrative framing of them as "should be together but won't be". we'll see what, if any, reaction she has to all the mess between them this season!)

ahead of s2, we rewatched all of s1 to prepare, but this time, we just watched the 20-minute recap of the first 2 seasons by unraveling the pattern. i get the sense that my mom is more lost and struggling during s3 than she has been in prior seasons, probably due to a combination of not doing a full rewatch first and to s3 just being so much more packed with Stuff than the first 2 seasons. but she knows all the main characters well and cares about them, it's mostly other stuff like plot and terminology that's hard to keep track of! and she did seem to settle in more once the hectic first episode was done and once she could focus more on the new storylines that are happening right now instead of trying to remember setup from previous seasons.

beginning of the recap: it's easy to get lost with all the different characters and terminology my mom: that's for sure!

during the recap my dad asked "is the dragon good or bad?" and i was like "that's kinda the big question of the whole series" haha

onto the episodes!

3x01

mom: didn't moiraine get banished from this city? me: yes, that's why she's hiding mom: she's not doing a very good job

me to my dad (who used to work in local government) at the beginning of the meeting of the hall: it's like town meeting dad later during all the shredding: town meeting never got QUITE this violent

mom: how did they not know there were this many bad guys lurking inside the tower? me: that's exactly what siuan is wondering too

my dad at some point during the street fighting: they need that guy who thinks he's a wolf to come and help

could perrin emerge as a fav for my dad if he was his first thought for somebody who would be useful in a situation? watch this space

mom after liandrin gets healed from double-stab out in the streets: ugh, she's unkillable!

huge gasp when ihvon died

mom when lan went to find nynaeve amid the rubble: oh yeah, they're in love right? [i will say, the recap was highly plot- and lore-focused and left out quite a lot of important info regarding interpersonal relationships!]

rand's line about "you know what prophecies are like, nothing's clear" got a chuckle

loial's line about leaving at dawn got a big chuckle!

mom: [smiling] he's one of my favorite characters me internally:😬

the girls' gossip session was instance #1 of my mom going "who's that???" about elayne because she "looks different" this season and she didn't recognize her (i suspect it's the hair throwing her off, in this scene especially it looks REALLY blonde and pale)

she definitely had some grumbling about it being stupid of the boys to go around town while so many bad guys are looking for them, though i forget exactly what it was

then later on she said "considering how many people are after them, they keep engaging in some pretty risky behaviors" (but this comment was just when mat was going to get himself a midnight drink at the inn, let him live, mom!)

mom: does rand know selene is evil? me [seeing my opportunity to get her sympathetic to rand's perspective early]: he knows she's lanfear, but she's been manipulating him hardcore, so he still thinks maybe he can fix her and help her be good again

i think it was during siuan's convo with egwene and nynaeve about being prepared to stop the dragon that my mom quietly said "...........is rand the dragon?" evidence of how overwhelmed this poor woman is with everything going on this season haha she's questioning everything she thinks she knows!

elayne delivering letters out on the street was instance #2 of going "who's that????" about her

no comments at all on any of the rand-avi, avi-elayne, or rand-elayne interactions this episode. i don't think she's particularly invested in either elayne or avi at this stage since they're newer characters compared to the OG crew, but we'll see!

moiraine: where do you really want to go? rand: where do i REALLY want to go? home mom: i was going to say, i bet all he wants is to just go home

she gets him!

rand: i was there [scaring egwene in her arches trip], wasn't i? mom: he's too smart for his own good

first time anybody has ever said that about rand dkfjgh but she's right! he's a lot more perceptive than much of show fandom gives him credit for!

mom: that guy perrin killed [bornhald], was he a bad guy? me: well, he was a whitecloak, so yes, but as whitecloaks go, he was better than some dad: a fitting description for his tombstone

mom during the inn attacks: it's so dark, i'm glad i can't see everything [because it's scary]

mom when lanaeve are saying their goodbyes: oh, why can't they just stay together?!

relatable to all of us who watched our favorite ships part ways in this episode!

"since perrin is going home, does that mean he won't be in the story anymore?" perrin wishes that was the case!

me: rand could've at least told moiraine the change of plans before she spent all that money on the boat mom: i know! it's like they think she has bottomless pockets! me: well to be fair she kinda DOES have bottomless pockets

dad after the episode: that felt like a lot more than just one episode

mom: will lan and nynaeve see each other again? me: not this season, but they should if there are more seasons mom: [sighs sadly] i just want lan to be happy

she followed this up with "this doesn't seem like an easy world to be happy in" you can say that again!

"if you counted how many times these 5 people got attacked throughout the show, i wonder how many it would be" very dangerous new WOT drinking game just dropped courtesy of my mom

the next day, she said "dad said he'll be home after [whatever time] and we can watch more then, it sounds like he really doesn't want to miss any" could've fooled me since it's never obvious that he's paying attention let alone invested, but it IS rare for him to even so much as imply that he wants us to wait for him to watch something!

3x02

me: this is elayne's mom pregnant with elayne mom: but she has two kids already me: yes, elayne has two older brothers mom: so why is elayne the one inheriting the throne? me: it's a matriarchal throne succession mom: i'm glad i have you here to explain things

huge gasp when the assassinations happened. "elayne is so nice, but her mom is so terrible!"

my dad's thought on the assassinations was "now this DID happen a lot in town meeting" lmao

as soon as they showed gaebril my mom went "i think i've seen him before", it turned out she was mixing him up with ishy since they have similar hair/beards, but i was cracking up imagining that rahvin had compelled her through the screen to remember him being in previous seasons

the music got a shoutout from her in this episode during the travel montages! there's some particularly groovy tunes in this episode's travel montages

several chuckles over galad getting made fun of in various scenes, as is only right

another chuckle at "the prophecy does not say i must enjoy the task"

elayne: that's the first time anyone's accused this room of being big mom: it looks pretty big to me!

first my mom was upset that no one was coming up to perrin to say hello when he arrived in the village, and then after finding out the whitecloaks have a bounty on him, she was upset that he was walking around out in the open and so many people had seen him arrive

she was also like "why did moiraine just let him leave and go home?" and i pointed out that moiraine's goal was to separate rand from his friends and that she really kinda only cares about rand at this point and not the other four so much, which my mom semi-accepted haha

mom after finding out min's viewing of dead aes sedai & warders wasn't referring to the 3x01 battle but was actually another battle still to come: is there ever any hope at all in this world?!

much appreciation for chiad's line about asking the lion to protect you from the bear and ending up in one belly instead of the other

perrin: i'll turn myself in mom: oh perrin, you're too good for your own good

once again my mom asked "does rand know she's evil?" about lanfear, so i took another chance to explain that rand knows objectively that she's evil but she's been careful not to do anything evil in front of him as a way of manipulating him, and that he really loved her during the months they were together so it's hard for him to just turn that off. i'm doing my best to seed in Rand Sympathy! we'll see if it pays off in the remaining episodes.

then my dad sneezed really loudly and distracted us all from the quick reveal that lanfear is disguising herself as renna to torture egwene, so i had to catch them up on that. classic dad behavior.

mom: [trying to jog her memory] was min romantically involved with anyone? me: no mom: she and mat might make a good pair me: NO they're like siblings to me!!!!

if she makes any kind of shippy comment during the CPR i'm going to pull out the "rand's the one who gave him CPR in the books, would you have considered THAT romantic too?" card hahaha

after gaebril told elayne about the trouble in andor, my mom was all "why would the queen leave the country if there's trouble?" "why is she leaving all her advisors behind at the tower if there's trouble?" she was starting to pick up on Something Fishy Going On Here

the scene of siuan taking the horn from mat was a big hit, naturally!

elayne: i learned from the best [morgase] mom: i don't know, i don't think SHE would ever kill her rivals dad: *i* think she would

mom about elaida: is she evil? dad: no one in this show is fully evil or fully good, they're all some of both

continuing his tradition of remaining mostly quiet and seeming not to pay much attention and then coming out with completely accurate takes

3x03

at first when my mom saw "gaebril" skulking around she was laughing because she thought morgase accidentally forgot him at the tower and left him behind, i was dying and am going to think about that every time i watch this scene forevermore

at the reveal that he's evil: "ugh! of COURSE!"

then i was explaining that he's not just evil, he's a forsaken, and explaining more about how he planted fake memories, and also giving her the list of all the forsaken we've met so far to add to her notes. we did pause for most of this, but sadly sammael's rug line got talked over so they missed that one, alas!

while nynaeve and elayne were walking through the streets my mom said she thought she saw somebody lurking around - it must have been the gray man, i was impressed! i hadn't caught him myself!

mom after hearing elaida's plan to cage rand: [unhappily] there are so many different groups of bad guys, and only one of good guys

she remembered the tuatha'an well from s1! she said she remembers s1 better than s2 since she'd watched it twice (and also said that s1 was the easiest one to follow since it was only about the main small group of characters)

we both keep fretting about wanting to know exactly how much time has passed, so in the scene with laila's tree we were like "well i guess however long it takes for a tree to grow that tall is how much time has passed" (and then in the later scene when perrin was like "don't you remember what happened at bel tine?" my mom was going "five years ago? last year?" trying to prompt him to specify haha)

she thinks it's very foolish for nynaeve and elayne to go off to tanchico on their own with so much danger afoot

"they're like paris fashion models" about liandrin & co's new getup in tanchico djkjfg

"i've never seen someone try to turn themselves in and fail" was a big hit!

though later my mom wondered if faile might be lanfear in disguise, which i accidentally shot down because first she just asked "is that lanfear?" and i said "no, it's a new character" thinking she was just mixing them up, not that she was suspicious lanfear might be in disguise as faile

mom about galad and gawyn: they remind me of, we used to call them "big men on campus", pompous and arrogant but also popular

mat: LIANDRIN?! nynaeve: keep your voice down! mom: he's always shouting about things that should be kept secret!

mom: i don't think elayne will be happy if mat kills her brothers me: he's not going to KILL them

3x04

mom while moiraine is watching lan and rand spar: why is she just sitting around? me: there's not a whole lot else to do in the desert

over the course of this episode, aviendha progressed from "that girl" to "aviendra" she's getting there!

me: [mentions something about the car'a'carn] dad: speaking of, were you able to find a parking space for the car'a'carn at the dentist earlier?

rand: tell me you won't try to stop me or use me moiraine: i will do nothing to hinder you from fulfilling your destiny mom: [disapprovingly] that's not what he asked

whether she'll understand rand's perspective in his upcoming conflict with egwene remains to be seen, but she does seem to understand his perspective in his conflict with moiraine! and kinda always has, i think, i remember her expressing distrust of moiraine in the prior seasons too.

"rand sure has a lot he needs to get done before he goes mad" WOT: A Summary

the first sight of the dragon tattoo with rhuarc got a "that looks cool" stamp of approval

earlier in the day she'd asked whether everything in the show was from the books or if some stuff was made up and i'd said the show made up/altered some stuff, and here i gave an example of how in the books mat is part of the waste trip and he's the one to go to rhuidean with rand and to get the moment of pulling a bunch of different knives out of unlikely places and my mom said "ha! i can see mat doing that. more than i can see moiraine doing it." i agree!! [cries in Mat Being Yoinked Out Of The Waste And His Silly Character Quirk Moment Given To Another]

[shot of rand's broad shoulders from behind as he's walking] "he looks like he's gotten a lot more muscles since the first season"

as rand is stepping into the columns: "i bet he's wishing he could just go home to his farm"

i gave a rundown of what to expect for the visions, with rand seeing real events from the past through the eyes of his biological ancestors starting with the most recent and getting further back and with moiraine seeing many possible but not definite paths for the future, because i feared she might get confused otherwise and i thought she would appreciate the experience more if i clarified this firmly ahead of time

and she did appreciate it! not much commentary (aside from "he should get an award for playing all these different characters" and "it's like they were on drugs when they wrote this episode" djkjfgkh but i think this was Complimentary rather than Derogatory), she was mostly just quiet and taking it all in

although she was very indignant about moiraine "stealing something from the tree" haha she was like "that can't be allowed!" and i said "moiraine doesn't really care about what's allowed"

and of course she was horrified by the future vision of lan dying and hastened to seek assurance that these are not definite futures

rand: [collapses in exhaustion after all the visions are done] dad: i agree

aviendha: as you wish, wetlander mom: [chuckles] like the princess bride me: [silently giggling in avirand]

i don't know if this episode struck either of them as particularly noteworthy or standout the way so many WOT fans feel about rhuidean, but if they make any additional comments on it later, i will be sure to note them!

[dasha-aibo]

The most important arguments on the Internet are the "Winter vs Summer" and the "Fahrenheit vs Celsius" ones

Now, they're not important because of the things being discussed, but because they're very widespread and epitomize some of the most common reasons the Internet debates suck as a whole

Because both are debates with no context and no nuance. And, ultimately, no point.

Fahrenheit VS Celsius is meaningless, because it's just a force of habit. It's what you grew up using and what you got accustomed to. There's nothing more to it than that. Both systems are perfectly useable in the vast majority of situations.

Winter VS Summer is stupid, because we're not all living in the same climates or have the same lifestyle. Of course someone from Moscow, Russia who loves to spend time outdoors would prefer summer. But a couch potato from Phoenix, Arizona would prefer winter. They have very different experiences with the seasons.

But there's this desire to separate people into neat little categories, throw on some misplaced national pride on the pile and voila. You've got an Internet debate.

And those two are the microcosms of every other debate, ever. Because people, fundamentally, tend to have different experiences and frames of references.

No one can even define their terms properly. The things people mean, when they say specific words are different in almost every debate.

And that's why I mostly stay away from discourse these days.

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

*taps mic* ahem

Izzy Hands is so fucking basic.

No, for real. He's a plot device. He doesn't have a back story. Even Wee John and Lucius have more back story than him! Tell me more about Wee John making dresses with his mother and Lucius being a thief! Please! Almost everything Izzy does is to further someone else's plotline! And not even in a "wise old sage dropping truth bombs" kind of way. He falls down comically and the crew is like "oh fuck hey guys stop fighting wow at least we're not that bad holy shit" and then we get a nod to the flag-making in the pilot and more examples of how Stede has influenced his crew. Working things out!!! With arts and crafts!!! Working together!!! Group project!!!

"Where did he come from where did he go?" Does not fucking matter! He's shooting himself in the foot (or the leg) (literally getting shot in the leg) trying to foil the romantic leads! "oh yeah just gonna have ed's boyfriend killed in front of him this should work out in my favor (clueless)" cut to Ed and Stede smooching on a beach. "oh yeah just gonna talk it through as a crew and by 'talk it through as a crew' i mean bringing up stede and blaming ed for having big dumb feelings even though last time did not work out well for anybody surely this time it will be different :)" cut to Izzy getting shot in the leg and getting dubious basement surgery partially so Archie and Jim can have their cute little moment and make out. Izzy is not even wholly centered when he's half dead from leg surgery, Archie and Jim were literally about to fuck nasty covered in blood right there and then if Ed hadn't interruppted. Rude of him tbh.

Half of Izzy's screen time is dedicated to other characters and their personal journeys. The other half is...mostly made up?? Because Gaia forbid the white guy doesn't get focused in this story that Isn't About Him? When he only exists to...not even to foil the soft foppy femme romantic lead but to get his ass kicked literally and metaphorically and then have some nice moments with the crew and Ed towards the end of his life? Said before, he's not even Wise Old Sage, no one fucking listens to him most of the time and nothing bad happens when they ignore him. Imagine if Ed had listened to Izzy and not gone to check on Stede after the Ned Low incident???? Can you fucking imagine??

Gods. People doing Olympic-level gymnastics turning that angry white antagonist into a third main character when he actually sucks bad and he's supposed to suck bad because him sucking bad is the whole point. Like what if you tried to stop two guys from getting together but you'd never heard of LOVE before so you were just fucking bad at it and they ended up confessing to each other and kissing on the beach? What if all your plans backfired and everyone was better off ignoring your advice 99% of the time? What if you almost stopped your boss from comforting his boyfriend but thankfully he ignored you because they know themselves and each other better than anyone else and that's so goddamn beautiful? What if you interrupted their lovely morning after to make a stupid joke about docking and they were both pissed at you? Like. What if you just. Sucked bad?

[leenashiftss]

HIS FAVORITE RIVAL

| “You keep trying to beat me, but you can’t even stop thinking about me.”

Pairing: Yang Jungwon x afab!reader

Genre: Smut, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, teasing & playful tension

Warnings: unprotected p in v (18+), explicit smut (oral, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, etc), dom!jungwon, sexual tension, cursing, reader is slightly younger + competitive, light enemies/rivals dynamic, slight time skips (not that big..I’m inpatient LEAVE ME ALONE), lmk if i missed anything !! Also, my first ever ficccc🥰

Rating: 18+ MDNI

WC: 9,902..

| You’ve spent the last two years trying to one up Jungwon at everything..until you’re forced to share a room with him at the country’s most prestigious boarding school. He’s infuriating, brilliant, and way too good at getting under your skin… and under your skirt.

══════════════════════

You hadn’t even been back on campus for twenty minutes and things were already falling apart.

Coming back from fall break was supposed to be a reset, a clean slate. A chance to breathe before things ramped up again at Valemont, the country’s most prestigious (and most suffocating) boarding academy. You had spent the past week catching up on sleep, watching trashy dramas with your cousin, and pretending, for just a little while, that the constant pressure of being the best wasn’t sitting on your shoulders like a ten-ton weight.

You didn’t think much could kill that relaxed buzz.

Until Dean Baek’s announcement.

“Due to renovations in the East Wing,” she said, voice projecting through the grand marble atrium, “students will be reassigned to new dormitory suites, effective immediately.”

The noise that followed was instant and loud, mostly groans and complaints. Your heart sank. You had lived with Karina and Rei for two years straight. They had become your safe place. You loved them. They got you. And now… you’d be thrown into some random suite with God knows who.

Still, you tried to look on the bright side. Maybe it’ll be someone new. Someone chill. You didn’t have many close friends at Valemont beyond your tiny circle. People either hated you for how competitive you were… or kept their distance because of who you always ended up competing with.

Jungwon.

You hated even thinking his name. It left a nasty, bitter taste on your tongue.

Yang Jungwon was the most irritating person you’d ever met. He was smug, sharp-eyed, and just as brilliant as he was cocky. He had been your academic rival since day one, turning every class discussion into a battleground, every grade report into a war. You couldn’t stand the way he always seemed to beat you by one point, one second, one breath. And the worst part?

He loved it. It’s like he got off on that shit. Maybe he secretly creamed his pants everytime you had got a 98% whilst he had gotten a 99%.

Anyway, the new dorm assignment was tucked into your welcome packet. Room 204B. Top floor. North Building.

You didn’t recognize the name listed under yours, it was scrawled in messy pen, as if the assignment had been changed at the last minute. Whatever. You’d deal. You were tired and running purely on overpriced café espresso.

You finally made it up the three flights of stairs (because the elevators were still being “serviced”) and stood outside your new room, adjusting the strap of your duffel bag over your shoulder. You hesitated. It was stupid, but for some reason your heart thudded a little faster. New room. New person. New chaos.

You opened the door.

The first thing that hit you was the smell, crisp and bright. Citrus. Lemon, maybe orange, but not cheap like a body spray. It was fresh. Clean. Masculine. Fuck.

The second thing was the silence. Well, beside the running water that you could hear from behind the closed bathroom door.

The room was surprisingly spacious, two beds, two desks, floor-to-ceiling windows, and dark oak shelves lining the walls. On the right side of the room, there were already bags unpacked, a book or two stacked neatly on the desk, and a navy tie slung carelessly over the headboard. Am I rooming with a man?

Whoever your new roommate was… he was in the shower.

At least he smells good, you thought, flopping onto the bed. You stretched your legs out, letting your eyes close for a moment. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe you’d luck out. Maybe-

The door creaked open.

Your eyes opened. Your heart dropped.

And there he was.

Yang fucking Jungwon.

Hair damp and curling at the ends, towel slung low on his hips, water still glistening on his collarbones. The steam rolled out around him like a fucking movie scene. He paused in the doorway, one hand running through his hair as he looked up, then froze when he saw you sprawled out on the bed.

The smirk came almost instantly.

“Wow,” he said, voice light and teasing. “Didn’t think you’d be this excited to see me.”

You shot upright like you’d been electrocuted. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow, sauntering over to his desk with no urgency, as if he didn’t just give you a heart attack. “This is my room.”

“No,” you snapped, grabbing your dorm assignment letter and shoving it toward him. “This is my room.”

He plucked the paper from your hand, eyes scanning the text. Then, impossibly, his grin widened.

“Hm, we’re roomies.”

You stared at him. “No. No, no, no—this has to be a mistake.”

He shrugged. “Take it up with the dean. I just moved in.”

“Are you kidding me, Jungwon? After all the shit you’ve pulled the last two years—”

“Hey,” he cut in, voice still maddeningly calm. “I didn’t ask for this either. You think I want to share a room with someone who practically throws daggers at me every time I raise my hand?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You raise your hand just to piss me off.”

“That’s only because your eye twitches when I beat you.”

“I don’t—!” you started, then caught yourself. Deep breath. You wouldn’t let him win this one. Not on day one.

You turned your back to him, busying yourself with unpacking your bag. The citrusy scent hit you again, it was coming from the body wash he must’ve used. God. Of course he smelled good. Of course.

You heard him move around behind you, the rustle of fabric as he pulled on a shirt, the quiet thud of drawers opening. The silence stretched too long.

Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he said it:

“You gonna be okay over there, roomie? Or should I sleep on the floor so you don’t combust?”

You glared at him over your shoulder. “Touch my side of the room and I’ll report you.”

He grinned. That stupid ass grin.

—

Two Weeks Later

You were starting to wonder if Dean Baek wanted to drive you into insanity.

Because it had only been fourteen days of coexisting with Jungwon, FOURTEEN, and you were already fantasizing about strangling him with one of his stupidly pressed navy ties.

He was everywhere. In the dorm, lounging on his side of the room like he owned it. In the shared bathroom, humming under his breath like he was in a damn commercial. And of course — always, always — in the classroom, where he thrived on pushing every single one of your buttons.

Three days ago in Literature, Professor Lee had asked for interpretations of the final line in Faust. You had barely gotten two words out before Jungwon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and interrupted with, “Actually, I think what she’s trying to say is—”

You didn’t remember what he said after that because you were too busy plotting his death via falling bookshelf.

Last Wednesday, your alarm didn’t go off, and by the time you rushed into Advanced Ethics, flustered and one minute late, the only open seat was, of course, beside him. He slid your coffee, half drunken by the way, across the desk with a smirk and said, “Thought you’d sleep through this one. I was gonna be generous but..I guess I got thirsty.” It was your coffee. Your own. He’d taken it from the dorm mini-fridge and claimed it was “fair punishment for waking him up.”

Just YESTERDAY, you opened your locker to find it reeking of orange peels. At least six of them stuffed inside. He walked by whistling, peeling another, and winked. “Citrus suits our dorm, no?”

You were seconds away from writing your own dorm reassignment request.

But today was the final straw.

Because you were in Philosophy (your best subject) and Professor Lee had posed a question to the class that should’ve been an easy win:

“Can true morality exist without consequence?”

Your hand shot up before she even finished.

But so did his.

And she, like the sadist she clearly was, gestured to both of you.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mister Yang. Let’s hear it.”

You inhaled sharply. “Of course it can. Morality is intrinsic, something we’re either born with or not. The moment you tie morality to consequences, it becomes performative.”

You felt good about it. Your answer was strong. Sharp. Professorial, even.

Until he tilted his head and said, all smug and thoughtful, “I disagree.”

You didn’t look at him. You refused. But you could feel the whole room lean in. Your jaw clenched as you continued to stare straight.

“If morality was intrinsic,” Jungwon continued, “we wouldn’t need laws. Or religion. Or guilt. We behave morally because we’re taught there will be consequences if we don’t. Without them, we’re just animals with uniforms.”

Laughter rippled through the room. You gritted your teeth.

“Not true,” you snapped, finally turning to glare at him. “That assumes humans are incapable of empathy unless threatened. Which is—”

“Optimistic,” he cut in. “And naive.”

“Self-righteous.”

“Delusional.”

“Enough!” Professor Lee’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. She pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly at her breaking point. “You two, after hours. Today. Classroom cleanup.”

Your mouth dropped open. “But—”

“I mean it,” she said, not looking at either of you. “I’d rather mop the floor with my own tears than listen to another one of your debates. Five o’clock. Don’t be late.”

Jungwon turned to you and flashed a grin. “Guess we’re spending more quality time together, sunshine.”

—

5:07pm | Classroom 3C

The mop bucket squeaked every time you moved it. The sun had dipped low enough to cast gold over the chalkboards, and the classroom was dead silent, save for your grumbling, and the faint sound of Jungwon lightly sweeping near the front.

It had been ten whole minutes without speaking. A record.

But of course, he broke it first.

“You missed a spot.”

You didn’t even look up. “You’re breathing too loud.”

“Just trying to be helpful.”

“Try less.”

Silence again. The tension wasn’t thick, not yet. Just a quiet undercurrent. A ripple. Barely there. Like the faint buzz of heat from a wire you weren’t supposed to touch.

He moved toward the windows, dusting the frame with one of the rags, sleeves rolled up, his posture relaxed and annoyingly perfect. His tie was gone, his shirt half unbuttoned, something he probably thought made him look casual and mature.

It did, unfortunately. Not that you’d ever say it out loud.

“You always have to win, huh?” you muttered, scrubbing aggressively at a chalk stain.

He didn’t look back. “So do you.”

You paused. Glanced up.

He was still facing the window. Light brushed over his cheekbone like a painting.

“I don’t need to win,” you said quietly. “I just don’t want to lose to you.”

That got his attention.

He turned, slowly, and for once, he didn’t have a comeback.

Your eyes met, and something passed between you. Not fire, not lightning, something slower. Like the curl of steam on a mug. Barely visible. But there.

You were still holding the rag. He was still holding the duster. It was silent. Close. Charged.

Then he dropped the cloth into the bucket and broke eye contact.

“Well,” he said lightly, brushing off his hands, “you’ll have to try harder.”

You blinked, and just like that, the tension dissolved. Gone. Like it was never there.

You hated how your skin still felt warm.

And then, just as if the universe decided to ruin the moment further, the door creaked open.

Professor Lee stepped in, a warm but slightly knowing smile on her face. Her eyes scanned the room, and she nodded approvingly.

“You both clean up well, hm? Your parents must be proud,” she remarked, a touch of amusement in her voice. “And since you seem so dedicated to debating each other at every opportunity, I’ve decided to give you an extra assignment, one specifically for you two.”

You tensed. “An assignment?”

“Yes.” Professor Lee folded her arms. “A written debate. Two thousand words each. One of you will argue in favor of morality being intrinsic — a natural, unchanging part of human nature. The other will argue that morality is a learned behavior, dependent on consequences and social conditioning.”

Your stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious—”

“Oh, I am,” she said lightly. “You’ll submit it next Monday, that gives you time to work on it over the weekend, yeah? And I expect thoughtful, properly cited arguments.” Her smile sharpened. “This should be quite the battle.”

Jungwon straightened, a spark of interest lighting his eyes. “Who gets which side?”

“I’ll leave that to you two. You’re both stubborn enough to sort it out.” Professor Lee’s voice softened, but her gaze stayed sharp. “And perhaps, in writing, you’ll learn something about understanding perspectives other than your own.”

With that, she gave a brisk nod and swept out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her.

You stood there, staring at the chalkboard, mind racing.

Two thousand words. On morality. With Jungwon.

“Can’t wait,” he murmured beside you, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to glare at him. “You’re not actually excited about this, are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He leaned back against the desk, his confidence radiating off him like heat. “Two thousand words is nothing for me.”

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“And you’re predictable.” He tilted his head. “Want me to pick the side that’ll make you lose your mind faster? Or do you want the honors?”

Your jaw clenched. “I’m taking intrinsic morality. Because it’s right.”

“Perfect. I’ll take the other.” He straightened, brushing off his sleeves and reaching for his bag. “Guess you’ve got a busy weekend ahead, sunshine.”

You watched him stroll toward the door, the weight of the assignment settling on your shoulders, not just because of the work, but because you knew he’d make every second of it a challenge.

And the worst part?

A tiny part of you didn’t hate the idea.

“See you at the dorm, roomie,” he called without looking back, pushing the door open and disappearing into the hallway.

You stood there, alone in the empty classroom, still clutching the rag, your heart racing for reasons you didn’t want to examine.

—

Sunday Night | 2:03 AM

Over the weekend, of course you procrastinated. But not because you went out with your friends or visited family like everyone else. No, every time you managed to type something on your laptop, you convinced yourself it was brilliant. Flawless. Until you neared that two-thousand word mark, and the crushing weight of self-doubt hit you. So you’d sigh, backspace, and start again.

Your work had to be perfect. It wasn’t just an assignment, it was a battle. A chance to outshine Jungwon. A chance to see his smug smile falter.

He was already done.

And he didn’t let you forget it.

“Done already,” he’d announced Saturday morning, lounging on his bed with his hands behind his head, his gaze never leaving you. “Guess the slow ones always win the race, right?”

You ignored him.

That evening, he’d leaned over your shoulder on the way to dinner. “Still writing? You know you can just copy mine. Not that you’d understand it.”

You glared. “I’d rather fail.”

“Could’ve guessed.” He grinned, tapping your screen. “Try shorter sentences. Might help with the whole ‘sounding smart’ thing.”

So here you were. Sunday night. 2:03 AM.

The world slept, along with the boy across from your bed, his even breathing a soft, constant reminder of his existence. Your small desk lamp cast a warm, faint glow, just enough to illuminate the silver keys of your laptop. You sat with your back pressed against the headboard, the cool sheets pooled around your waist, the device balanced on your plush thighs.

Every few minutes, you’d yawn, rubbing your half-lidded eyes. Blinking away the blur. Willing yourself to focus.

But the words blurred together, logic crumbling beneath exhaustion.

“You’re gonna give yourself a fucking aneurysm.”

The voice cut through the quiet, low and amused. Your gaze snapped up, and you found Jungwon sitting up, dark hair tousled and eyes sharp despite the late hour.

“Go back to sleep,” you muttered, fingers tapping out another hollow sentence. “Your assignment’s done, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” He stretched, arms lifting above his head, the thin fabric of his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of his toned stomach. “Just didn’t think I’d get a front-row seat to your breakdown.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, though the bite in your voice was dulled by exhaustion.

But he didn’t shut up. Of course he didn’t.

“Come on, sunshine.” He shifted, swinging his legs off the bed. “Your brain’s fried. Why not just admit defeat? I mean, I knew I’d win, but this is almost too easy.”

“Will you shut the fu—” You turned to glare at him, but another yawn cut you off, muffling the rest of your words. Your eyes watered slightly, the dull ache of exhaustion making your vision swim.

And for a moment, he was quiet.

Then his feet touched the floor, and he stood. The teasing curve of his lips softened, just barely, and he moved toward you, slow and almost careful.

“Jungwon, I’m not in the mood,” you warned, though it lacked any real force.

“I know,” he murmured, but his steps didn’t stop.

You stared as he approached your bed, watching his shadow stretch across the sheets. He leaned over you, one hand reaching out — and before you could protest, his fingers gently lifted the laptop off your thighs.

“Hey—”

He replaced it with his other hand, his warm palm resting against your skin, his touch featherlight but steady. The laptop clicked shut as he placed it on your nightstand.

“Let yourself take a break,” he whispered, his voice a touch lower. Closer.

Your breath hitched, your gaze snapping to his, but he was already leaning in, his weight shifting so his hand pressed just a bit more firmly against your thigh. His face was so close you could see the faint shadow of his lashes, the warm undertone of his skin.

His breath brushed your cheek. “Want me to help you stay awake?”

Your heart skipped. Your pulse thrummed against your ribs.

“W-What?” The word barely made it past your lips.

A slow smile curved at the edge of his mouth, something teasing and yet…not. “You heard me.”

Your pulse raced. Heat pooled low in your stomach, battling against the fog of sleep clinging to your mind.

“Jungwon…”

“Hm?” His thumb brushed gently against your thigh, the barest hint of friction.

His other hand rose, bracing against the headboard beside your head, caging you in. The space between you seemed to collapse, every breath shared. Your own fingers curled against the sheets, your chest tight.

“Don’t you want to win?” he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, warm against the shell of your ear. “Or are you giving up?”

Your pride flared, even through the haze of exhaustion. “I’m not—”

“Not what?” His thumb traced a slow, deliberate line against your thigh, the touch featherlight but burning all the same. His weight pressed against you just enough for you to feel the firmness of his palm, the subtle strength in his grip.

“I’m not giving up.” Your voice was meant to be steady, defiant. But it was breathy, almost a whisper, and you hated how it betrayed you.

“Really?” He leaned closer, his lips brushing the curve of your jaw, the faintest touch. “Because you look tired. Frustrated. Maybe you’re finally realizing you’re out of your league.”

A rush of irritation crashed against the heat, pushing past the fluttering in your chest. You turned your head, and suddenly your nose brushed against his, your breaths mingling in the faint glow of the lamplight.

“Out of my league?” you shot back, and despite the quiver in your voice, you met his gaze, dark, intense, a hint of something playful but with an edge. “If I’m out of my league, then why are you here? Why do you care?”

The corner of his mouth lifted, a slow, infuriating smirk. “Who says I care?”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?” You leaned forward just slightly, your forehead nearly brushing his. “Why are you in my bed, talking like—like—”

“Like this?” His lips ghosted over your cheek, the barest touch, before brushing lower, hovering just over the corner of your mouth. “Or like this?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, every nerve in your body strung tight. He wasn’t touching you anywhere but your thigh, his hand still resting there, warm and steady, and yet your entire body felt trapped in his gravity.

“You’re bluffing,” you whispered, though the words felt like a lie even as you spoke them.

“Am I?” His voice was a murmur, teasing, but the warmth in his gaze had darkened. “Because you’re the one still holding on.”

Your hands clenched against the sheets, you hadn’t even realized you were gripping them. Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you didn’t pull away.

Neither did he.

“Say it,” he murmured, the tip of his nose brushing yours, your lips just shy of touching. “Say you want to win. Say you want to beat me. Or maybe—” His voice dropped lower, his thumb pressing just a bit more firmly against your thigh. “Maybe you don’t want to win at all. Maybe you just want my attention.”

You felt the words like a spark against dry kindling, the embarrassment and defiance and heat all crashing together.

“You’re so full of yourself,” you whispered, but even that sounded weak, too breathless to be a real insult.

“Maybe.” His lips barely grazed yours, a touch so faint it sent a shudder through you. “But you still haven’t stopped me.”

You wanted to pull away. Wanted to shove him back, snap at him, prove that he didn’t affect you, that his arrogant, teasing words didn’t send your heart racing. That his touch wasn’t burning into your skin, leaving you breathless.

But you didn’t.

Because in that moment, you didn’t want him to stop.

And it was like he could sense it, the hesitation, the tangled mess of denial and longing.

“Should I help you?” he whispered again, his lips brushing yours with each syllable, your senses filled with the faint scent of citrus and warmth. “Help you stay awake?”

Your lashes fluttered. “Jungwon—”

The way you said his name, quiet, almost pleading, seemed to snap something in him.

His hand tightened on your thigh, his weight pressing just slightly more, the soft mattress dipping beneath you. He leaned in, your lips finally catching, warm and impossibly soft. Not a kiss, not yet, but a lingering touch, a barely-there connection.

His breath washed over you, warm and steady, and his voice dropped to a near growl. “Is that a yes?”

For a split second, the world narrowed, just the two of you, the faint lamplight, his touch. His mouth a whisper away from yours.

Your pride screamed at you to shove him away. But your body leaned forward instead, that ache of exhaustion forgotten, your lips brushing against his in the faintest answer.

“Yes.”

And then he kissed you.

Soft, at first. Like he was testing the waters, coaxing a response from you, but the moment your lips parted, his patience shattered.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, his fingers curling against your thigh, his other hand braced against the headboard beside you. Your hands finally let go of the sheets, reaching up to tangle in his dark hair, pulling him closer.

His tongue swept against your lower lip, a quiet, hungry sound escaping his throat when you opened for him, and suddenly the exhaustion that had weighed on you for hours was gone, replaced with a fire, a desperation you didn’t want to acknowledge.

Jungwon shifted, his body pressing against yours, the thin sheet between you barely enough to keep the cool air from your skin. His hand slid from your thigh to your waist, tugging you just slightly closer, his mouth tracing a slow, heated path along your jaw.

“Still tired?” he whispered, his voice rougher now, tinged with something darker.

“Shut up,” you managed, but the words were lost in a gasp as his teeth grazed your earlobe.

“Thought so.” His laugh was a low, warm rumble, his mouth finding yours again, your breaths mingling, your world narrowing to the press of his body, the warmth of his touch, the quiet, insistent need growing between you.

His mouth moved against yours, a slow, deliberate dance, teasing, demanding, and then pulling back just enough to leave you breathless, only to capture your lips again. Your fingers curled tighter in his hair, your body arching instinctively into his touch.

But then, just as your senses seemed to drown in the warmth of him, his lips stilled. A slow, almost lazy pullback, just enough for you to feel the cool air slip between you.

He lingered for a second longer, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing warm against your cheek. And then, without a word, he leaned away.

You stared, still caught between a daze and disbelief, watching as he straightened. His touch left your waist, the warmth of his palm vanishing from your thigh, and you immediately missed it.

Before you could even begin to process it, he reached for your laptop. The silver device clicked open, and he carefully settled it back against your thighs, his knuckles brushing your skin with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch all over again.

He turned, sauntering back to his own bed, his smirk still painted across his face. The mattress creaked as he collapsed onto it, one arm draping over his eyes.

“Good luck, sunshine,” he called out, voice low and laced with smug amusement. “Hope my little pep talk helped you focus. Try not to drool over the keyboard.”

Your jaw tightened, embarrassment and frustration knotting in your chest. “You’re such a—”

“Genius? I know.” His laugh was muffled beneath his arm, but you could still see the faintest glimpse of that infuriating grin. “Just remember, two thousand words by tomorrow. Don’t stay up all night dreaming about me.”

You wanted to snap at him, to fire back something sharp, but the words stuck in your throat. Because the lingering taste of his kiss, the phantom heat of his hand on your thigh, all pulsed beneath your skin, stubbornly refusing to fade.

Gritting your teeth, you turned back to your laptop, fingers settling against the keyboard. The blank document blinked at you, but this time, your thoughts didn’t feel scrambled. Your pulse still raced, but words finally began to form.

Still, every few minutes, you found your gaze drifting to the boy sprawled lazily across his bed, his breathing slowing, the faint rise and fall of his chest far too calm for someone who had just set your world on fire.

You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus, but then another slow, aching pulse bloomed low in your stomach, heat crawling up your cheeks. You shifted slightly, pressing your thighs together beneath the laptop, the lingering tingles of his touch refusing to fade.

This was supposed to be a battle. A game of wits. A test of intelligence.

So why did it feel like you were already losing?

—

The Next Day

The crisp, sterile air of the classroom seemed heavier today, the weight of it pressing against your chest. Professor Lee’s voice was a distant hum, her stern gaze sweeping the room. But all you could hear was the pounding of your heartbeat, each thud reminding you of the weekend spent drowning in frustration and sleepless nights.

Jungwon had presented first, of course. He stood with that familiar, infuriating confidence, back straight, voice steady, each word falling like a perfectly placed chess move. His thesis was clear: morality was fluid, a product of circumstance and personal experience, a clever dance of logic and eloquence.

You hated that he made it look so easy. Hated how he didn’t even need to glance at his notes, hated the quiet awe in the room as he finished, a satisfied, almost bored smile tugging at his lips. But most of all, you hated that your eyes wouldn’t leave him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers tapped against the edge of the desk, a quiet restlessness only you seemed to notice.

Then it was your turn.

Your legs were stiff as you stood, fingers gripping the paper in your hands so tightly the edges crumpled. You spoke, your voice steady at first, arguing for an absolute morality, a sense of right and wrong that existed beyond circumstance, beyond mere perception. But the weight of his gaze burned against your skin, each word feeling like a struggle to breathe.

“Wait.” Byun Euijoo’s voice sliced through, and your heart plummeted. “Aren’t you just contradicting yourself? If morality is absolute, then why did you mention context?”

“I… I’m not contradicting myself,” you forced out, the calm in your voice slipping. “I’m saying that context affects perception, but—”

“So you agree with Jungwon?” Euijoo’s smile widened, and a few students chuckled. “I mean, if even you can’t keep your argument straight—”

“She’s not agreeing with me.” Jungwon’s voice was a blade, sharp and unyielding. The laughter died instantly. His gaze, steady and cold, never left Euijoo. “If you actually listened instead of trying to sound smart, you’d understand she’s arguing for a moral constant that’s interpreted differently. But I wouldn’t expect you to get that.”

The room fell silent, Euijoo’s face flushing with embarrassment. Your throat tightened, words caught somewhere between gratitude and humiliation. Because even though he defended you, he did it with the same calculated ease he did everything, like you were another problem to solve, another equation to balance.

“Continue, Y/N.” Jungwon’s voice was steady, but his gaze held something else, something you couldn’t decipher, and it terrified you.

So you continued, stumbling at first but regaining your composure. And when you finally finished, Professor Lee offered a brief nod, but it didn’t feel like a victory. Not when Jungwon leaned back in his chair, a faint, unreadable smile tugging at his lips.

—

The hallway was a blur, your thoughts racing faster than your feet could carry you. The cold metal of the doorknob bit into your palm, and you shoved it open, letting it swing shut behind you with a quiet thud.

Jungwon was already there, leaning against his desk, scrolling through his phone, his expression bored. The same face he always wore, calm, indifferent, untouchable. You hated it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you blurted, dropping your bag to the floor.

“Do what?” His tone was casual, but his eyes never left the screen.

“Humiliate Euijoo. Make me look like I needed your help.”

He shrugged, finally glancing up. “I didn’t do it for you.”

The words were a punch to your chest, sharp and cold. “Right. Of course you didn’t.”

“Relax.” He leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “If you weren’t so busy overthinking, you’d realize I just hate idiots.”

“Overthinking?” A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I don’t think. I know.” His gaze was piercing, a quiet challenge simmering beneath the surface. “You’re so obsessed with trying to be perfect, with trying to beat me, that you can’t even see straight.”

“I’m not obsessed with beating you!” Your voice was louder now, trembling. “I’m just.. I’m just trying to prove that I—”

“That you’re better than me?” He stood, his sudden closeness making your breath hitch. “Go on. Say it.”

“Stop twisting my words!”

“Oh, so now I’m twisting your words?” His voice was sharper, each word cutting like glass. “You’re the one who can’t decide what you want.”

“I know exactly what I want.”

“Do you?” He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing the faint light of the desk lamp. “Because one second you’re glaring at me like you want me dead, and the next…” His voice dropped, softer, almost a whisper. “The next, you’re looking at me like I’m the only thing you can’t figure out.”

Your throat tightened. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Maybe.” His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “But at least I’m honest. At least I’m not pretending.”

“Pretending?” You forced out a laugh, but it cracked, raw and broken. “Pretending that you don’t get under my skin? That I don’t hate how you make everything look so easy? Or that—”

“Or that you don’t like it when I kiss you?” His voice was a low, dangerous murmur now, his breath warm against your cheek.

Your pulse roared in your ears. “That was a mistake.”

“Was it?”

“Yes!” But the word was weak, a hollow lie.

“Fine.” His voice hardened, cold and sharp. “Then maybe I should kiss someone who’d actually appreciate it. Your friend Karina’s practically throwing herself at me every chance she gets.”

Your heart clenched painfully. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” He laughed, the sound bitter, like shattered glass. “What do you care? You hate me, right? I’m just the arrogant smart-ass who ruins everything for you.”

“I do hate you.”

“Good.” He took a step toward the door. “Then you won’t care if I walk right out and—”

But you didn’t let him finish.

Before you could think, before you could even breathe, you lunged forward, your fingers curling around his wrist, yanking him back.

And then your lips crashed against his.

There was no thought, no hesitation, just the overwhelming, suffocating ache in your chest, the burn in your veins. His lips were warm, shocked against yours for a heartbeat, before he responded. His phone clattered to the floor, forgotten.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the force of it sending you stumbling back. You didn’t care. You didn’t care that your breathing was uneven, that your heart was a wild, desperate drum in your chest. His mouth was hot, relentless, his touch bruising as his fingers dug into your hips.

Your back hit the edge of your bed, and his weight pressed against you, your knees giving way, the mattress beneath you giving a soft creak. His lips never left yours, a furious, hungry dance, his breath mingling with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, making a gasp slip past your lips.

“Jungwon—” His name was a whisper, a plea, a curse.

“I knew it,” he breathed against your mouth, his voice rough, almost desperate. “Knew you wanted this. Knew you were lying.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, but your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, your lips finding his again, silencing the words that cut too deep.

His weight settled over you, one knee pressing against the mattress beside your hip, the other nestled between your thighs, causing your pleated school skirt to rise a little. You could feel his muscular thigh being pressed flush against your throbbing, hot core. You gasped, his lips trailed down your jaw, a shiver racing down your spine as his teeth grazed the soft skin of your neck.

But then he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his breathing harsh, his eyes dark and wild.

“Should we continue?” His voice was low, strained, his lips swollen, his gaze burning.

The air was thick, the world blurring at the edges. Part of you screamed to shove him away, to end this madness. But your body betrayed you, your fingers still curled in his shirt, your lips tingling with the taste of him.

“Y/N?” His voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

And you didn’t know how to answer. Because you didn’t want to lose this feeling, this fierce, aching, desperate hunger. But you were also terrified of what would happen if you let it go any further.

“Jungwon…” Your voice was a whisper, your chest rising and falling beneath his.

“Please. Please, Y/N. I can’t restrain myself.. please tell me you want this.” Jungwon’s voice was strained, his words came out through clenched teeth.

A quiet, shuddering breath slipped from your lips. “Yes.”

The second the word left you, his mouth was on yours again, rough, hungry, almost desperate. His kiss was a fever, a wild clash of teeth and tongues, his hands gripping your waist like you might disappear if he let go.

You were drowning in him, in the heat of his touch, in the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, in the way his lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then lower, leaving a scorching path down your neck.

“Jungwon—” His name was a gasp, swallowed by his mouth against your skin. But he didn’t slow. If anything, he grew hungrier, his hands tugging your school shirt higher, the fabric bunched beneath your arms before he impatiently yanked it over your head, tossing it aside, revealing your bra-covered breasts.

“Look at you,” he breathed, his voice rough, almost disbelieving. His gaze raked over you, the bare skin of your chest rising and falling beneath him, your cheeks flushed, your lips swollen. “You pretend you hate me… but you’re already so..desperate.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, but your voice was a breathless whine, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

“Make me.” His lips were on you again, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, your hips, your thighs. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your skirt, and without warning, he tugged it down along with your panties, allowing the cool air to kiss your heated skin.

A needy whimper slipped from you, your thighs instinctively pressing together, but his hands were there, parting them, his mouth leaving a burning trail down your stomach.

“Jungwon—“

But he was already there, his lips pressing to your inner thigh, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers brushed against your core, a light, teasing touch that had your hips arching, a desperate gasp falling from your lips. As his fingers left, a string of your juices kept you two connected.

“Already this wet?” His voice was a low, mocking murmur, but there was a tremor beneath his teasing tone, his own desperation betraying him. “And you were going to act like you didn’t want me.”

“Stop teasing me—” Your voice was a broken, desperate whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer.

“I’m not teasing.” His lips traced the soft, sensitive skin of your thigh, his teeth grazing, a quiet, needy sound slipping from you. “I just want you to beg for me.”

“I—” Your voice broke, your pride crumbling beneath the heat of his touch, his fingers slipping against you, slow, agonizing circles. “Please. Pleasee, Jungwon—”

“That’s better.”

His mouth was on you then, hot and wet, his tongue tracing over your clit, each slow, deliberate movement sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through you. Your hips bucked against him, a desperate, broken moan tearing from your lips.

“Please— please, don’t stop—”

“Greedy, aren’t you?” His voice was a low, muffled whisper against your skin, but he didn’t pull away, if anything, his pace quickened, his tongue flicking, his lips sucking gently, his fingers slipping into you, one, then two, a gasp caught in your throat.

“Jungwon—!”

Every slow, curling motion of his fingers, every flick of his tongue had you spiraling, your thighs trembling, your breath a desperate, broken mess. Your fingers clawed at the sheets, your back arching, his name a frantic chant on your lips.

“You taste so good,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost reverent. “So sweet. So perfect.”

Your hands tightened in his hair, another desperate, breathless cry slipping from you, the tension coiling tighter, tighter—

But then he pulled away, and a sob of frustration escaped you, your thighs instinctively trying to close, but his hands were there, holding them apart, his dark, wild eyes meeting yours.

“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice strained, his breathing just as ragged as yours. “I want you to come when I’m inside you.”

You were already a mess, panting, trembling, a desperate, whiny whimper slipping from your lips as his mouth crashed against yours again. You could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn’t care.

His clothes were a mess of fabric hitting the floor, his bare skin warm against yours, his body pressing you into the mattress, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“Tell me you want me,” he breathed, his forehead pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your cheek.

“I want you,” you gasped, your voice breaking. “I want you. Please—”

The desperation in your voice shattered whatever restraint he had left.

His hips pressed against yours, and then he was pushing into you, slow, almost painfully slow, a deep, shuddering groan slipping from his lips, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

“Oh—” The stretch was overwhelming, your body arching, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Jungwon—”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost desperate. “God, you feel so—”

His hips began to move, slow, deep thrusts that stole the breath from your lungs, his lips finding yours again, his kiss a perfect, dizzying mix of heat and hunger.

“Faster, please, faster—”

A strained laugh slipped from him, his teeth grazing your jaw. “So needy.” But he didn’t make you wait, his pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours, the desperate, wet sound of your bodies colliding filling the room, your name a breathless groan on his lips.

“Mphm, pulling me in so good—“

Your thighs tightened around him, each thrust sending a shock of pleasure through you, your gasps and whimpers mingling with his ragged breaths.

“Look at you,” he whispered, his voice a low, rough rasp. “So pretty when you fall apart for me.”

“Jungwon— I can’t— I’m—”

“I’ve got you.” His hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours, pinning your hand against the pillow, his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, deeper. “Let it happen baby, let go for me.”

And with one final, desperate thrust, the tension snapped.

Your vision blurred, a shuddering, broken cry tearing from your lips, your body trembling beneath him, his name a frantic, gasped whisper.

Jungwon’s pace grew frantic, his breathing a ragged mess, his lips finding yours in a desperate, hungry kiss. And then his body shuddered, his grip on you tightening, his forehead resting against yours, a low, shuddering moan slipping from him as he followed you over the edge.

He fucked himself into you, rolling his hips as he pushed his white seed further and further. He flooded your womb, wanted you to feel nothing but him.

Silence settled, heavy, breathless, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, golden light over your tangled, sweat-slicked bodies.

His head fell against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, his lips brushing a lazy, almost tender kiss there.

“Are you okay?” His voice was a quiet, almost hesitant whisper, his fingers tracing gentle circles against your hip.

“I—” You didn’t know what to say, your mind still a dizzy, hazy blur.

But his fingers stayed gentle, his lips brushing against your shoulder, his breath slowing.

—

From That Day On..

It was like a switch had flipped. One taste wasn’t enough. One touch wasn’t enough. They were like two predators starving for each other, and the academy’s walls became a labyrinth of stolen moments.

In the dimly lit corridors between classes, yoyr back would slam against the cool stone wall, Jungwon’s mouth already on yours, his hands slipping beneath your uniform shirt, desperate. His whispered curses, your bitten-back moans, dangerous music that echoed off the empty halls.

Study hall became a battlefield of restraint. He’d watch you from across the room, his fingers gripping his pen too tightly, jaw clenched. And the second the instructor’s back was turned, you’d feel his shoe brushing against your ankle, a silent, electric promise.

Before morning lectures, you two would sneak away behind the storage sheds, you pressed against the rough wooden wall, Jungwon’s lips dragging down your neck, hands hiking up your skirt. After classes, you’d disappear behind the old library, his tie pulled loose, your voice muffled by his palm as you whimpered his name.

And even during class, God, you were reckless. His knee pressed between your legs beneath the shared desk, your breath coming fast as you tried to focus on the board. His quiet, wicked chuckle in your ear when you squirmed, the ghost of his fingers brushing against your thigh.

You were insatiable. Addicted.

But nothing compared to now. The empty classroom you’d slipped into was bathed in the golden light of the afternoon. The door was barely shut before Jungwon’s lips crashed against yours, a feral hunger in the way his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“Keep quiet for me,” he whispered against your lips, the dark, teasing lilt in his voice making your knees weak.

He pushed you back against the teacher’s desk, his body pressing into yours, one thigh wedged between your legs. Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan as his mouth traveled down your neck, leaving burning kisses.

But then—

The door swung open.

“Yeah hold on, I think I left my—”

Your heart nearly stopped, and you froze, wide eyes locking with Jungwon’s. But instead of pulling away, his smirk only deepened.

“Stay still,” he breathed against your ear, his voice a low, wicked whisper. His hand slipped beneath your skirt, fingers grazing your thigh, his touch torturously slow, easing up toward your heat.

Your breathing hitched, your fingers clawing at his shoulders as you tried to maintain your composure, biting down hard on your lip to keep silent.

“…Fuck.. I swore it was here.” The voice was closer now, footsteps approaching the front of the classroom.

Jungwon’s fingers pressed further over your clothed clit, the thin fabric of your panties barely doing a thing to the featherlight touch that had your thighs trembling, your entire body screaming at you to move, to moan, to cling to him, but you couldn’t. Not without being caught.

You breath came faster, your chest heaving, and Jungwon’s mouth found your neck again, his tongue tracing slow, heated circles just below your ear.

“You’re shaking,” he teased, his words a mere breath against your skin. “Does it turn you on, Y/N? The thought of getting caught, hm?”

The person at the front of the classroom sighed. “Guess it’s not here.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, tears prickling as the tension twisted inside. You could feel Jungwon’s quiet, muffled laughter against your skin, his fingers now tracing agonizing circles against your inner thigh, just barely avoiding where she needed him most.

The door finally creaked shut, the footsteps fading down the hall.

But Jungwon didn’t stop.

“You did so well,” he murmured, finally letting his hand slide higher, his lips capturing yours again as you gasped, half in relief, half in desperate, pent-up need. “But we’re not done yet.”

—

And here you both were again, in your shared dorm room. The tension from your bickering earlier in class still lingered in the air, but it had twisted into something else entirely. Jungwon leaned back in his desk chair, his head tipped against the backrest, sweat glistening at his hairline. His fingers twisted in your hair, holding it back, keeping it out of your face as you knelt between his thighs.

His hips bucked, unsteady, his cock pushing deeper into the wet heat of your mouth. Your jaw ached, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but the desperate, breathless sounds he made only spurred you on. His voice was rough, a low, shuddering groan escaping him.

“Fuck, gonna cum down your pretty throat, sunshine.” His words were broken, almost pleading, but there was a smug edge to them, his gaze fixed on the sight of your cheeks hollowing around him. Your spit slicked his length, pooling at his base. “Would you like that? Me forcing my seed down your throat?”

You couldn’t answer, not with your mouth full, but you hummed, the sound vibrating around him. His grip tightened, a low, trembling curse falling from his lips.

“I’m cumming—fuck, I’m cumming—” His hips jerked, pushing forward until his pelvis met your lips, his release flooding your mouth, hot and thick. He held you there, his breathing ragged, thrusting lazily as he rode out his high.

You tapped his thigh quickly, a silent plea, and immediately his hold loosened. You pulled back, gasping for air, a string of spit and his release connecting your lips to his cock. Coughs racked your chest as you tried to catch your breath, but he was already leaning forward, his touch gentler now, fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away your tears.

“Get up,” Jungwon murmured, his voice softer now, but still commanding. He didn’t wait for you to comply. His hands slid under your arms, pulling you to your feet with a surprising strength. The room spun for a second, but then you were in his arms, your knees unsteady as he walked you backward.

The backs of your thighs met the edge of his bed. He guided you down, his mouth finding yours, the kiss messy and heated, a mix of need and something more possessive. His hands wandered, pushing the fabric of your panties down, his weight settling over you as he climbed on top, his lips never leaving yours.

“Still so fucking needy,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his voice dripping with a teasing warmth, but his touch was anything but. It was greedy, desperate, his fingers tracing your thighs, his knee pressing between your legs.

“You didn’t get enough, did you?”

His knee pressed between your thighs, spreading them apart, and you couldn’t stop the needy whimper that slipped from your lips. Jungwon chuckled, the sound low and teasing, but his voice was rougher now, hunger darkening his gaze.

“Look at you, sunshine,” he whispered against your mouth, his fingers trailing downward, tracing the soft skin of your inner thigh. “So eager. Did I fuck your pretty mouth too well? Got you all worked up?”

You shivered beneath him, your hands clutching at the front of his shirt, desperate for something to ground you. He leaned in, his lips trailing along your jaw, down the curve of your neck, each kiss sending heat rushing through you. His teeth grazed your pulse, a soft, teasing nip that had you gasping.

“Jungwon,” you breathed, barely recognizing your own voice, so needy and breathless.

“I know, sunshine.” His touch slid higher, fingertips brushing against your dripping folds, and he smirked against your skin. “Already soaked. You liked it that much?”

Your face burned, but shame was the last thing on your mind. You rolled your hips, pressing into his touch, chasing the friction. He chuckled again, but this time there was a hint of something darker, something possessive.

“Don’t get shy now,” he murmured, his lips finding yours again, his kiss slow and heated. His fingertips dipped inside your entrance and a sharp gasp tore from your throat. But he only pulled them back out, continuing circling. “I want to hear you, sunshine. Want to feel you come undone for me.”

His fingers teased you, slow and deliberate, tracing delicate circles that left you trembling beneath him. His other hand found yours, guiding it up above your head, his fingers lacing with yours, pinning you down. His grip was firm, a silent reminder of just how much control he had, but his touch was anything but cruel. It was maddening, achingly slow, every movement coaxing desperate, breathy whimpers from you.

“Please,” you whispered, barely able to think, your body arching beneath him.

“Please what?” He dragged his fingers through your slickness, teasing your entrance, but never giving you what you needed. “Use your words, sunshine.”

“Please—need you. Need you so bad.”

He smiled against your mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating against your lips. “There we go.”

In one smooth movement, he slipped two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and you cried out, your body arching beneath him. He moved with a slow, steady rhythm, curling his fingers just right, each thrust coaxing sweet, desperate sounds from you.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a soothing, wicked whisper against your ear. “Such a good girl. Taking me so well.”

Your breathing quickened, every nerve in your body alight with pleasure, the heat building with every movement of his fingers, every gentle press of his thumb. His lips were at your ear, his voice a dark, soothing melody.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he whispered, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “All mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your fingers tightening in his shirt, clinging to him.

“Good.” His lips trailed down your neck again, sucking a dark mark into your skin, a brand of his own. “Then come for me. Let me feel it.”

His words sent you over the edge. Pleasure crashed through you, your body tensing beneath him, your cries muffled against his shoulder as you shuddered in his hold. He didn’t let up, coaxing you through every wave of your release, his touch gentle, his voice a soothing murmur.

When your breathing finally began to slow, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his fingers slipping free of your soaked folds. He brought them to his lips, his dark eyes locked on yours as he licked them clean, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Sweet as ever, sunshine.”

Jungwon’s tongue swept over his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the hunger in his gaze only seemed to deepen. He leaned back slightly, hands sliding to your thighs, his touch firm but teasing. His lips found yours again, the kiss rough and greedy, his teeth grazing your lower lip.

“You’re so desperate for me, sunshine,” he whispered, the words dripping with smug satisfaction. “All that attitude in class, but look at you now. Barely keeping it together.”

You whimpered against his mouth desperatly. He laughed softly, the sound warm against your lips, but there was a rough edge to it now, his self-control starting to fray.

“Impatient too,” he murmured.

He pulled back just enough to unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off, the toned lines of his chest and shoulders revealed beneath the soft light of the room. Your gaze wandered over him, and he smirked, catching you staring.

“Like what you see?”

You didn’t have the breath to answer, especially when he leaned down again, his lips trailing along your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses that sent shivers racing down your spine. His hands slipped beneath your blouse, pushing it up, and he wasted no time, his mouth finding the sensitive skin just above your chest, nipping, sucking, marking you.

His fingers tugged the fabric higher, his touch rough but never careless, and soon your blouse joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His gaze swept over you, hungry, possessive, his tongue brushing his lips.

“Gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice lower now, thick with want. His hand slid down between your thighs again, his fingers tracing over your soaked folds, and he chuckled. “Still so wet for me. Pathetic, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, hips arching into his touch, and his teasing smile faded just slightly, his pupils dark and blown wide with desire.

But when you tried to turn your head, the lingering bite of your pride making you look away, his grip tightened, forcing your gaze back to his.

“You keep trying to beat me,” he murmured, his voice a dangerous, silken whisper. “But you can’t even stop thinking about me.”

His words cut through the haze of your need, shame and longing twisting together in your chest, but your body betrayed you. His fingers pressed harder against your soaked core, and you trembled, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

“Admit it, sunshine,” he taunted, leaning in, his lips ghosting over yours. “All that defiance—just a cover. All you really want is for me to ruin you.”

You shook your head, a shaky gasp slipping free, but it was pointless, the ache between your legs giving you away. He was already hard again, the sight of your flushed skin and desperate little whimpers clearly driving him mad.

He settled between your legs, his tip brushing against your entrance, and you shuddered, a desperate plea escaping your lips.

“Please, Jungwon.”

“Please what?” He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear, his voice a low, teasing whisper. “Want me to fuck you, sunshine? Want me to ruin you?”

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a gasp. “Need you.”

His control snapped. With one smooth, forceful thrust, he buried himself inside you, a rough groan tearing from his throat. The stretch was intense, your body adjusting around him, and his hands found your wrists, pinning them above your head against the mattress.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his forehead pressing against yours, his voice shaking just slightly. “So tight, so fucking perfect.”

His hips pulled back, only to snap forward again, a harsh rhythm that had you gasping beneath him. He set a brutal pace, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure racing through you, your cries muffled against his mouth as he claimed your lips again. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, his breath hot against your cheek, but his composure was crumbling, his thrusts growing faster, more desperate.

“Look at you,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless. “Taking me so well. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sound he made was almost a growl, his grip on your wrists tightening. His name fell from your lips in broken, pleading gasps, and he shuddered, his rhythm faltering for a second.

“Gonna make you cum again, sunshine,” he promised, his thumb finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast, rough circles. “Wanna feel you squeeze me. Want you to scream my name.”

The pleasure built like a fire, your body arching beneath him, your cries growing louder, desperate. His thrusts grew erratic, his breathing harsh against your ear.

“Cum for me,” he growled. “Now.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tensing beneath him, a sharp cry ripping from your throat. Your walls clenched around him, and he swore, his hips slamming into you, losing his rhythm as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, fuck—” His voice broke, his hands gripping your wrists almost painfully, his release spilling inside you, hot and thick. He rode out his high, his movements slowing, his breath ragged against your skin.

For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your shared breathing, the heat of his body pressing against yours. Then, slowly, he let your wrists go, his touch gentler now. He leaned back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, the teasing smugness gone, replaced by something softer, almost dazed…

[sometimeslwish]

Something Just Like This (With Zayne)

And last but not least: doctor sexy. Like I mentioned before, his took the longest. I started writing, got stuck and then BAM rain pour of ideas. His word count was the highest until I got to Caleb's.

Word count: 1,830

Tags: voice acting, just general +18 content, nothing too explicit, just mentions of fluff, smut and angst, Yvonne has a cameo as his script writer, low-key freaky Zaynie inzaynie.

Social media handles

Youtube 

Started as winterrambles, later changed into winterdoctorasmr.

Instagram 

macaronsforzayne – it's his personal account. He barely posts anything, it's mostly stories where he mentions something that happened (probably because of Caleb) and his medical notes. 

Twitter

winterdoctorasmr – Caleb forced him to have one. He interacts when tagged (mostly by Caleb, sometimes fans) and sometimes posts sneak peeks of coming audios. If anything happens that he can't post, you'll hear it there first.

How it starts

Caleb bribes him into being a background character for one of his audios with an ungodly amount of macarons. It does so well that Caleb ends up pestering him about doing audios. If he was already insufferable with Caleb's constant compliments during the filming and editing process, he's even worse now as his fans ask about him. Zayne doesn't budge until he makes a mistake on a sleep deprived night and posts a video of one of his medical rambles. It had been a long day and a long night, he wasn't able to fall asleep and with his sleep riddled mind he didn't notice he posted the video of his ramble until Caleb barges in hours later and wakes him up. He's gotten a couple hundred followers over the last few hours and the comments range from other medical students praising him, to Caleb's fans going crazy over the fact he's a med student, to complete strangers praising his voice because it was soothing. Caleb, once again, insisted, and this time, Zayne didn't say no but he didn't say yes either.

— It starts with more medical rambles, then it turns into study sessions because it's actually helping him with his memory.

— As he keeps doing them, more of his personality comes through. Little jokes, the dry wit, he goes from rambling about medical things to mentioning little things; a poem he read, a stupid joke Caleb made, a comment about an animal he saw or the climate or scenery.

— It takes him a while before he does a script, he's quite picky and meticulous about what he does and how he does it. A long time follower offers him a script, one that perfectly fits him. He's a bit reluctant, a bit stiff and monotone and he has to redo a lot of lines, but his voice gradually softens as he gets used to it and starts having fun. He hates the editing process, it feels weird to hear his voice and it takes him a while to get the hang of it, but he powers through.

— Zayne asks the follower to be his script writer. They talk about payments and schedules, both being med students, and once everything is settled, the show kicks off. Yvonne and him are the perfect duo, bouncing ideas off of each other and filling in the gaps the other leaves. 

Channel

— Shades of blue, minimalistic. His profile picture is an image of some macarons he ate.

— The editing is quite simple, a thumbnail with the title, an image of a male character and the important tags. He edits them so the thumbnail fades to black after 10 seconds and the audio starts. It's always straight to the point. 

— Posts whenever he can, always on a monday. The posts are inconsistent for the first year, but as he adjusts his time and figures out something that works for him, they turn into biweekly posting. 

— The videos slowly go from strictly M4F to the occasional M4A and M4M as he starts testing his comfort zone. He uses “darling, snowflake, dear/dearest” and “my love” religiously as pet names, so he doesn't need to adjust when the change happens. His page becomes a mess of the three by the second year of voice acting, with some scripts even having three versions and the occasional M4TM or M4TF.

— Beside his chronic pain audios being the most famous, there's also: the Linkon Doctor series (a man who dreams about an alternate life and fears losing control of himself) Master of Fate (a demigod shifu teaching other demigods how to control their abilities) and The Foreseer (an immortal high priest to a fallen religion who is locked in a lost tower and plagued by visions no one can hear)

— The first time he ever did a non-human audio it was because a fan showed him a script they wrote with him in mind (Master of Fate). It was unconventional for his usual scripts, he played a more expressive and joyful character, but he learnt he quite enjoyed it so he indulges in playing different types of creatures from time to time. 

— During october, he'll play elves, vampires, medieval healers, demigods, the occasional ghost and sometimes a winter related creature. He's played being your android assistant, a butler and even a cat hybrid (Caleb wrote the script for that one). It's like there's a check list of creatures he wants to try.

His sfw content

— The medical related things are still there, but it's not the center of it like it was with his medical rambles. He's more of a coworker now, sometimes even a classmate. Study sessions are still a thing, but it sounds more like you're doing it with him than you watching/listening to him. 

— There's lots of strangers to lovers. The fans love how his voice warms up as the relationship progresses, it's what they praise him the most for.

— For the amount of sweets he consumes, he sure does act out a lot of angst, you'd think he's allergic to happiness. Hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, character deaths, chronic pains. He dons a very caretaker role, often taking care of the listener in his own ways. Sometimes there's arguments and break ups, all of those related to his lack of time, but he never raises his voice during those. As realistic as a va can get with relationships, I suppose. 

— When he's not doing angst, he's doing: Very domestic established relationships, dinner dates and trying out sweets, little quiet moments where you cuddle and soothe each other. The fans like how quietly and calmly dominant he is, and they especially enjoy when his voice gets a little warning edge when pushing his buttons. 

— On the instances he writes his own script, he gets to show a little bit more of his dry wit and sass. The fans eat the banter up every time.

— Lots of winter vibes and themes, the fans call his channel a husband material gold mine.

His nsfw content

It took him two years to even consider that aspect of the voice acting. By then, Greyson had joined the mantle as his video editor, so when he makes a comment about it, Zayne practically reboots on the spot and gives him a sidelong glance.

— He can't stop thinking about it after. Not because he wants to, he was content with what he was doing but, how is he supposed to do that when all he's ever done is kiss and go on dates that didn't go past a second one? 

— So, he tries in secret, makes the conscious effort to record himself whenever he masturbates because if he's going to do this– if he's going to pretend to moan into the mic, he's gonna do it properly. He starts looking at scripts centered on first times, dusts off his editing skills and cringes at himself when he hears his own moans and lines. If he thought the simple voice acting felt weird, this feels worse for him. He's quietly throwing away scripts and deleting videos as he does the usual planned ones. 

— He finally manages to make something he's not uncomfortable with and when he posts it, the second part is linked to a different app, one that requires you to pay. It comes as a surprise to everyone. Greyson is flabbergasted, Yvonne has a weird glint in her eyes that he doesn't like and Caleb just pats him on the back with a little too much force.

— It unfolds from then on. He does a second after the fans ask for it, then a third, and before he knows it, he's making one every 6 to 8 videos.

— He tries to keep it sweet and gentle, soft and warm and playful and loving like he usually is with the rest of his content but he makes a particular comment on one of them that makes the fans go crazy and call him daddy or sir in their usual half-serious half-joking manner and before he knows it, he's dived a bit too deep into reading and researching about bdsm dynamics and now he's making light bondage videos and soft dom content on particularly rough days.

— He focuses mostly on being a pleasure dom, but being a brat tamer seems to be something he has on his dna so he also does that. There's daddy kink audios, sir kink (the fans speculate about which one he might like more, he doesn't give any hints), a bit of temperature play and lots of orgasm control. It's very rare for him to not be in control in his audios, but when it does happen, the fans talk about it for weeks on end because they love how needy he gets.

— The first time he did an audio where he wasn't being a dom while the listener rode him, he got so hard he actually moaned. A genuine, honest to god moan that took him by surprise. He had to take a step back to calm down– rub one off– for a little bit before continuing.

Extra things

— Sometimes his fans offer him scripts, he doesn't always fill all of them but he always shows gratitude. When he doesn't fill them, depending on the fans wishes, he might make a post talking about the script, Caleb is always the first to comment on those. It never fails to give the writer a boost in the community.

— Doesn't show his face on social media and barely posts anything outside of the va content. You may catch a picture of a cat, his glasses, or his notes, maybe even the back of his head (props to Caleb for the picture) or a random body part of his, but you never get to see his face. He's very careful about it and has been incredibly assertive about not wanting to show or reveal his face, so the fans stay respectful. 

— Caleb strings him along a lot when he goes to conventions, even though he doesn't interact much with people. They never announce that they're going and they keep a pretty low profile but sometimes they still get recognized and chat with a follower. He was a very anxious baby the first few times he went and kept quiet most of the time because he was terrified of being recognized, he only whispered to Caleb when absolutely necessary. He's grown more relaxed ove r time as he's gone and met other va's. 

Series masterlist.

[nat-20s]

Things I would personally enjoy seeing:

- Doctor (as Donna) immediately trying to retrace their steps, which is hard with the amount of champagne from last night

-Donna is mostly like. Good lord you really have no ass. I'm so cold. I hate this.

-UNIT calls Donna in. 14 thinks they should just explain the situation. Donna is like okay or. You could get me a raise. Because of my now vast background knowledge (14:that's so dishonest and will cause greater trouble down the line! Donna: I can buy you more Legos. 14: I do love Legos.....)

- Donna reacts to being called the doctor no problem like it is SEAMLESS

-14 takes a bit longer to respond to being called Donna, mostly distracted by FINALLY having red hair

- at least one weird telepathy mindmeld bullshit moment. For Me <3

-SHOPPING MONTAGE!!!! DONNA IS /NOT/WEARING THIS STUPID FUCKING SUIT AND 14 HATES JEANS SO SO MUCH

-there turns out to not be some big plot against them. They simply should not be let loose in the Tardis while hammered

-at one point they both get covered in gunk and 14 is like eugh im off to shower and Donna's like. Blindfold first no fucking looking!! And 14 is like. OH but you can look at MY body when you shower. And she's like well yeah. I've literally everything already. And 14 is like. Oh shit right. (Out of character but I would have Donna be like. I already know the genital situation and 14 would be like. Shit. You do in fact already know the genital situation)

- 14 is like hey wait I've seen you too. And she's like that was a 15 years, a pregnancy, and an entirely different shaving routine ago. You don't need to Know these things

-14 is honestly a little hurt.

-the episode ends and like the freaks they are, you see them decide to make this a annual tradition

My ultimate dream one off episode of Doctor Who that will likely never happen that I SPECIFICALLY want live action and not big finish or book or other extended media is a DoctorDonna full body swap. The plot is whatever the villain is who give a shit. RtD2 give me one (1) episode that's just Catherine and David doing impersonations of each other for 50 minutes. It can be a special. It can be only on DVD release. I just want to see it so so bad

[technically-human]

First meeting

[gophergal]

Guilt tripping people does nothing but cause vulnerable folks to spiral and make folks who dont live with moral OCD feel negatively toward your cause

[vampiricmeurot]

1- I called them a nazi not as insult, but because i wanted to imply that they have the logic of a nazi, by undermining a minority, that was extremely overboard and thats why i edited it to a cunt instead, and i wasnt aware cunt is used specifically for women, and i just used as a synonym for being a dick (apparently cunt being an insult against women specifically is an american thing and tbf my fault on not picking it up but other dialects use it casually).

2- while i don’t consider myself a trans women (i mostly identify as androgynous) I would probably be a trans women if i wasnt born in the middle east, as i would get to lose my head for free if i go on hrt (the one above unfortunately). So naturally i am interested in transfem content.

3- (this was written as sort of a rant so it was a bit exaggerated) wtf are you talking about? One of your arguments is literally that im wrong because others say the same thing, im sorry but how does that devalue my opinion in any way? Im sorry but im clearly not saying trans women are bad or something, im telling you that this person is an extreme hypocrite for 72627 reasons, and your counter is “you called her bad word opinion invalid!”, have you bothered commenting on the original criticism in the picture? Or the criticism afterwards? Or am i automatically wrong because i disagreed with the a blog you follow? I understand that people try to undervalue trans women in different posts but generalising me with them immediately is a fucking dick move, im clearly queer and participate in many transfem communities, instead of just putting transmisogynist in the tags, have you considered that maybe this fellow queer is trying to make a point? If you think im wrong try to actually discuss it, we might disagree and id still respect you, but its better than generalising me

4- (the argument) i do understand that theres a stigma on becoming a women, but theres stigma on becoming a man too? And this wasnt an attempt to “degender” the post, some trans man probably thought it would be cool to reblog this post and reassure their mutuals on that being a trans man is cool too, this wasnt an attempt to crush the dialogue, the evil lady wasnt forced to include this in her blog or something, her message stood as it is, the best way i can help visualise this is with a stupid example of mine: imagine if i made a post about raising awareness for Palestine, and then you reblogged it to raise awareness for Ukraine too, are you the asshole for crushing the dialogue and making this all about ukraine? No, both deserve awareness, nothing is wrong with supporting both, both follow the same concept of being anti-war, nothing wrong either having support for both, but you know whats an asshole move? If i make a rant about “whats wrong with you?” And basically saying that Palestine is more important because they are being genocided, undermining that ukraine is in war too. This is basically the best way i can describe the evil ladys post.

Omfg she blocked me lmao

All minorities deserve support including trans men, please dont ever support a person who only thinks their minority deserves recognition, because this person would be a nazi if they werent a minority.

(Edit: some of you suggested that calling them a nazi was overboard, and honestly yeah youre right sorry for that, but i do find it a cunt move that they have an inherent preference for trans women over trans men to the point where they arent even allowed to reblog their posts to raise some awareness for themselves too)

Especially when considering trans men and trans women, the two communities shouldnt be separated and instead should be working together, this shit is simillar to the trump trying to take the T out of LGBTQ situation, instead with trans men.

I would appreciate anyone reading this if they block this shitty person

Side note: the “they should make their own post” argument is dumb as shit, reblogging doesnt undermine the original message of the post, instead it adds to it, also why are you mad if a trans man reblogs such a post in the first place, you should support them too, fuck it don’t even support them just dont cry when they reblog your posts ffs

[egophiliac]

CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS

there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head

I don't know why I decided to draw it this way

[cravingpepsimax]

OUUUUUUUUUGH

i can see it. i can see it in my mind's eye. they're so repressed and they thought that they could keep repressing but being so close together 24/7 makes it obvious very very quickly that it's impossible

i'm conflicted on who'd initiate. ford is generally more spontaneous but i think it might actually be stan. while ford is madly in love with stan in his own right (me when i keep a childhood photo of me and the person i "hate" in my coat pocket 24/7 for over 30 years), 30 years of stan's life revolved around bringing ford back. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN BEGIN YEARNING DURING SAID 30 YEARS. he kept a photo of him and ford that he looked sadly at!!! when ford mentioned their childhood dream of sailing around, stan looked happy, even though why would ford offer that he clearly doesn't have the funds and hasn't talked to him in like, a decade!

ford is stan's weakness and strength and i think finally being with him 24/7 after decades of separation would cause him to snap.

what i'm envisioning is that, technically, their first kiss was stan impulsively grabbing ford by the collar and kissing him. stan immediately freaks out and comes up with a bunch of stupid excuses and ford's just. standing there in shock. before he snaps back to reality, grabs stan's hand, and goes

"It's fine, Stanley."

and ford's looking at stan with nothing but pure love in his eyes and they do it again, for real this time. the hesitation mostly comes from ford -- you know, when you've dealt with supernatural shit to the point it's become your job, and your brother who you've harnessed incestuous feelings for since forever randomly kisses you, it's hard not to worry that he did that due to an external influence -- but this causes stan to hesitate. even though stan's the initiator, ford's the one leading, because stan is Terrified about ford not liking this and losing him again.

tl;dr ouuuuuuuuuuuuuu kissies. peak

What's ur opinion on if Stan and Ford should kiss?

You, you understand me

They should kiss, soft and slow at first. Hesitant and uncertain and then it builds into a raging fire. They’ve wanted this for so fuckin long and they finally have it.

Maybe the first time is in the arctic, and its so cold and they’re afraid their lips are gonna freeze together but, they do it anyway. Cause fuck they can’t help but be together. They’re stupid and repressed but it just bursts cause fuck they love each other

they love each other

[kittycatred]

[ ooc ]

perfectionism over drawing cat red was killing me so the most reasonable thing i did ??

make a gif of me beating perfectionism :3