#but it is so much more extensive than it should be-

[misstycloud]

Hey! I’m new to your blog so sorry if requests are closed 😅 I missed it if there was something that said so. But do you mind writing a second part to the yandere male harpy x reader? 😄

this is are just one of my thoughts that came to mind but imagine the reader trying to start a small fire at the entrance of the cave (away from the nest obviously) to cook the food. Just the absolute horror on the harpy’s face coming back to see fire in his cave. 😂

Anyway sorry for the ramble and thank you either way if you decide to write for it or not😄

Not super focused on the fire in this but hope it’s enjoyable anyway.

———————

The giant cave opening often brought you trouble. Through it cold winds would blow in and sometimes a bunch of leaves and twigs as well. You’d then be forced to sweep the mess with the broom you had made on your own. The handle was a long, relatively thick branch and the bristles were feathers collected from the giant bird-man hovering over you all the time. His feathers were big and strong, they also fell off. It was just like hair, you supposed.

You’d never forget the expression he made when he noticed you picking up his fallen feathers. He seemed so happy. The male harpy’s face was lit up like a child’s on Christmas Eve and he was constantly cooing happily. You wouldn’t be surprised if this meant you liked him, in his culture.

After witnessing you bringing all the feathers into you arms and searching for more scattered around the cave, the harpy felt true joy. You still hadn’t fully warmed up to him which he did not understand. Did he do something wrong? Was the nest perhaps not satisfactory? Maybe he should rebuild it in the future- with your input of course- so you’ll like it. You hardly ate anything he hunted you and reluctantly slept in his arms at night. It always took a bit of convincing for you to joint him in the nest and cuddle. Sadly, he could understand why you gave in eventually and it was not because you were simply shy, it was because of the cold winds. You waited until you couldn’t take the chill anymore and joined him. The thought stung his heart. He loved you but you hardly considered him your mate. He thought all hope was lost until you began collecting his fathers. Had he finally impressed you? If you liked his wings then he’d gladly give you more feathers. He wasn’t quite sure what you wanted them for but he didn’t care. If you wanted the feathers then doesn’t that mean by extension that you desire him too?

The harpy male made sure you didn’t have to scavenge for lost feather, instead he gave you more directly from the source. On top of that, he made sure to give you the finest and biggest ones since those were the ones you seemed most fond of. It took a lot of effort to stop him from ripping out his own feathers. If he’d continued you fear he would have ended up looking something like a mix between a plucked turkey and a human.

Now, the cave hole always gave you more pain than happiness. It did not help at all; until it did.

Your hunger strike was nearing an end. The nuts and other comfort food you had brought with you before was gone. You had finally eaten it all, there was nothing left but the empty wrappers serving as a cruel reminder of your old life. You would do anything for a spongy convenience store sandwich. This meant you no longer had the privilege of declining the meals Crow presented to you.

Crow, that was the name you’d given the overgrown bird who’d decided to kidnap you and force you to be his mate. It fit him well since he sort of did look like a crow. His hair and wings were a dark colour and he never failed to caw at you whenever you refused to give him attention. He was a bird but honestly reminded you more of a puppy.

You don’t get to say no to the dead animals anymore. No matter how much you try there’s no way you could possibly get down the mountain without dying- or complete paralysis, if you were an experienced climber. It made sense why Crow chose this cave as his home, it was inaccessible without the ability of flight.

When he returned home with a fresh kill you wasted no time. Instantly you were in front of it with your knife ready. It was gross having to cut through the raw meat(especially with all the blood pouring out)but desperate times called for desperate measures. You tried comparing it to cutting up organs in biology class.

Crow was startled when you rushed forward to seize the deer he’d caught. You had never done that before. You always stayed away from him when he ate and chose to accept food from the sack of fabric you had. He had considered taking it away in order to force you to rely on him but never went though with it since he knew how much it would hurt you.

He watched with curiosity as you dug through your belongings. You made a satisfied noise when you found what you were looking for. It was something Crow had never seen before. It was small and had a pointy corners. He doubted it was food despite having zero knowledge about it. You then went over to the nest and crudely pulled out a bunch of branches.

“Caaaaaaww!” He schreeched in alarm. Why would his mate destroy their nest? Crow rushed forward and almost didn’t dare look at the damage. A part of the large nest had now begun to disassemble and more branches were falling out. Not the beautiful nest he’d so lovingly build for his mate! He’d been proud of it too.

“Don’t look at me like that, I need these.” You rolled your eyes in irritation. It’s not like the whole nest has been destroyed or anything, only about 10%. The smallest sticks wouldn’t last your fire so you had to get the larger, sturdier branches. “You can find new twigs later, but I have to eat right now.” Your stomach decided to humour you and gave off a strong growl. “See?”

Ignoring the depressed-looking, overgrown bird who gloomily stared at his ruined work, you piled the wood together and flicked your lighter. After a few failed tries, a fire finally started. You sighed in relief. Bow was time for the grilling, you could already smell the sizzling meat. Having been forced to survive on a diet consisting of almost solely oats, you were ready to have something else.

You thought you would be able to make your food in peace with no troubles at all, but what you didn’t expect was that Crow would freak out and throw himself in the fire. You screamed as he thrashed around on the ground in obvious pain until the fire had gone out. He threw the branches in all directions and made sure to stomp out the last of it for good measure. When he was done he stared at you like you were the insane one who’d nearly burned themselves alive.

“What the fuck?” You exclaimed. What had possessed him? Despite Crow clearly being on alarm, you tried collecting new twigs since you still-because of a certain someone- hadn’t eaten and you didn’t know what else to do. This caused a similar reaction to where he ripped them from you and refused to let you get more. It ended with the two of you running around the cave and him staring intensely into your eyes when you finally gave up. He did not want you to start a fire.

Alright, it was understandable. He ate his food raw and probably didn’t have much experience with flames. But you couldn’t eat raw meat!

Would this mean you’d starve? On the long list of ways to die, it definitely was one of the worse ways. It was slow and painful. Before being kidnapped by a bird-man you were always able to eat when you wanted and even after, you had your oat-mix. But now you were really dead; the only food you had you couldn’t eat.

Crow’s intentions towards you and always been obvious so you never really feared him in that way. However, you were beginning to wonder if he’d actually grown tired of you and wanted to find a way to make you suffer to death. Maybe you should’ve accepted his courting after all? Then you wouldn’t feel so hopeless.

A gentle nudge brought you out of your despair. It was the source of your current misery. He nuzzled your hand carefully before staring up at you with concern. He didn’t know what he did wrong. Form his perspective he saw a threat and got rid of it. He was in the right. Unfortunately, it seemed this made you incredibly sad. Crow saw how you sunk down in the cave floor and refused to look up.

He had no idea what you were doing or why you’d thought it be a good idea to start a fire in your home. He had seen the destruction they cause and couldn’t fathom why you’d want to be near it, but he just wanted you to be happy. A sad mate equals a bad life. Reluctantly, he picked up some former nest-branches and pushed them in your direction.

You had a surprised expression in your face. You had not expected him to do that. Watching him with a caution, you took the wood.

Instead of throwing them away and cawing loudly, he simply continued nuzzling your hand and shivered in delight when you ran your fingers through his hair. You noticed how his feathers ruffled up in pleasure. He sure enjoyed when you petted him in any kind of way. Even when you were done preparing he still didn’t do anything to stop you. You smiled at his sudden compliance.

Perhaps you would be getting a warm meal after all.

[qqueenofhades]

do you have any advice for those in the very early stages of thesis-writing? currently desperately clinging to the mantra of "shitty first drafts," et al

Unfortunately, there is no place where you will more whole-assedly have to embrace the "shitty first draft" mantra than in academic writing, especially in thesis writing, especially if this is your first-ish crack at an advanced and major piece of original research. I'm not sure if this is for an undergraduate senior thesis, a MA-level thesis, or (my true and heartfelt sympathies) a PhD dissertation, but the basic principles of it will remain the same. So there is that, at least. This means that yes, you will write something, you may even feel slightly proud of it, and then you will hand it into your supervisor and they will more or less kindly dismantle it. You have to train yourself to have a thick skin about this and not take it as a personal insult, and if your supervisor is remotely good at their job (not all of them are, alas) they will know how to be tactful about it and not make it feel like a direct and extensive commentary on your private worth as a person. But you will have to swallow it and do what you can, which can include -- if you're the one who has done the research and know that's how you want to present it and/or you are correct about it -- pushing back and having a conversation with them about how you think your original approach does work best. But that will come later. The first step is, yes, to mentally gird yourself to receive critical feedback on something that you have worked hard on, and to understand that no matter how much you grump and grumble and deservedly vent to your friends and so on, implementing the feedback will usually make your piece better and stronger. That is the benefit of working with a trained expert who knows what makes a good piece of research in your particular academic field, and while it doesn't get easier, per se, at least it gets familiar. Be not afraid, etc.

If you're in the writing stage, I assume that you've moved past the topic-selection and general-research stage, but allow me to plump once more the services of your friendly local university library. You can (or at least you can at mine and probably in any decently well-equipped research university) schedule a personal consultation with an expert librarian, who can give you tips on how to find relevant subject databases, create individual research guides (these might already be available on the university library website for classes/general topics), and otherwise level you up to Shockingly Competent Research Superhero. So if you're still looking for a few extra sources, or for someone else who might be reading this and is still in the "how the heck do I find appropriate and extensive scholarly literature for my thesis??" stage, please. Go become a Research Ninja. It's much easier when you have a minion doing half the work for you, but please do appreciate and make use of your university librarian. It's much more effective than haphazard Google Scholar or JSTOR searches hoping to turn up something vaguely relevant (though to be fair, we all do that too), and it's what your tuition dollars are paying for.

Next, please do remind yourself that you are not writing the whole thesis in one go, and to break it down into manageable chunks. It usually does make sense to write the whole thing semi-chronologically (i.e. introduction, lit review, chapter 1, chapter 2/3/4 etc, conclusion), because that allows you to develop your thoughts and make logical connections, and to build on one piece to develop the next. If you're constantly scrambling between chapters and zig-zagging back and forth as things occur to you, it will be harder to focus on any one thought or thread of research, and while you might get more raw output, it will not be as good and will require more correction and revision, so you're not actually hacking yourself into increased productivity. You should also internally structure your chapters in addition to organizing your overall thesis, so it makes sense to draw up a rough outline for section A, section B, section C within the body of a single chapter. This will make you think about why the segues are going in that order and what a reasonably intelligent reader, who nonetheless may not have the specialized knowledge that you are demonstrating for them, needs to move understandably from one section to the next.

Some academics I know like to do an extensive outline, dumping all their material into separate documents for each chapter/paper and kneading and massaging and poking it into a more refined shape, and if that works for you -- great! I'm more of the type that doesn't bother with a ton of secondary outlines or non-writing activity, since that can lead you away from actually writing, but if you need to see the fruit of your research all together in one place before you can start thinking about how it goes together, that is also absolutely the way that some people do it. Either way, to be a successful academic writer, you have to train yourself to approach academic writing in a very different way from fun writing. You do fun writing when you have free time and feel inspired and can glop a lot of words down at once, or at least some words. You do it electively and for distraction and when you want to, not to a set timeline or schedule, and alas, you can't do this for academic writing. You will have to sit your ass down and write even when you do not feel like writing, do not feel Magically Inspired, don't even want to look at the fucking thing, etc. I have had enough practice that I can turn on Academic Writing Brain, sit down, bang something out, sit down the next day and turn on Academic Editing Brain, go over it again, and send it off, but I have been in academia for uh, quite a while. The good news is that you can also automate yourself to be the same way, but the bad news is that it will take practice and genuine time invested in it.

As such, this means developing a writing schedule and sticking to it, and figuring out whether you work best going for several hours without an interruption, or if you set a timer, write for a certain time, then allow yourself to look at the internet/answer texts/fuck around on Tumblr, and then make yourself put down the distraction and go back to work for another set period of time. (I am admittedly horrible at putting my phone away when I should be doing something else, but learn ye from your wizened elders, etc.) You will have to figure out in which physical space you work best, which may not be a public coffee shop where you can likewise get distracted with doing other things/chatting to friends/screwing around on the internet/doomscrolling/peeking at AO3, and to try to be there as often as possible. It might be your carrel in the library, it might be your desk at home, it might be somewhere else on campus, but if you can place yourself in a setting that tells your brain it's time to work and not look at WhatsApp for the 1000th time in a row, that is also beneficial.

Finally, remember that you do not have to produce an absolutely world-beating, stunningly original, totally flawless and perfect piece, even in its final form. Lots of us write very shitty things when we're starting out (and some of us, uh, still write very shitty things as established academics), and you do not have to totally redefine your entire field of study or propose a groundbreaking theory that nobody has heard of or anything like that. A lot of academic work is small-scale and nuanced, filling in spaces on the margins of other things or responding or offering a new perspective on existing work, and it's best to think of it as a conversation between yourself and other scholars. They have said something and now you're saying something back. You don't need to be so brilliant that everyone goes ZOMGZ I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THAT BEFORE; by its nature that happens very rarely and is usually way out on a limb (extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, etc); you just need to continue the dialogue with a reasonably well-constructed and internally plausible piece. So if you think of it that way, and understand that a shitty first draft will usually develop into something that is good and valuable but not SHOCKING NEW REVELATION clickbait hype, you will take some of the pressure off yourself and be more able to shut up that perfectionist voice in your head. However, all of us have some degree of imposter syndrome and it never entirely goes away, so you'll have to manage that too. Etc etc as before, it doesn't vanish altogether, but it gets easier.

And last but not least, though I'm sure I don't have to say this: for the love of fuckin' god, do not use ChatGPT. Even the genuinely shittiest paper in the world that you still worked on researching, organizing, and writing with your own brain is better than that. Trust me.

[shoopsthereitis]

jegulus | 1.3k | hockey player x figure skater |

Regulus walks into the rink, skates in hand, bag slung over his shoulder ready to practice. Finals are fast approaching, and he needs to perfect a few of his more difficult moves. It’s late, and he knows the rink is usually empty at this hour, especially since the hockey team doesn’t practice on Tuesdays.

He’s looking forward to the quiet solitude, the chance to focus without distractions. But as he steps inside, the unmistakable sound of skates gliding over ice and the sharp slap of a puck hits his ears. Regulus groans internally, rolling his eyes as he approaches, less than excited to see who he’s going to have to kick off the ice tonight.

Potter.

He should have fucking known. Dropping his bag with a loud thud Regulus walks to the edge of the rink, eyes trained on the familiar body gliding around the ice. James skates like the ice is a natural extension of his body. Effortless, smooth, and fast. He’s bloody fit, and Regulus absolutely hates him for it. Hates how easy he makes it look, how James glides in perfect circles, tracking the puck with precision, then seamlessly sending it into the goal. 

Regulus has despised hockey players his entire life. Always fighting for ice time, even back when he was a teenager in his hometown. He thought things might be different at University, but it turns out hockey players are just as insufferable here as they were back home. And James? He’s the worst. Because he’s nice. Regulus can’t stand how genuinely kind James is, as if being captain of the University hockey team somehow makes his niceness even more unbearable. But Regulus isn’t buying it. Refuses to buy it no matter how many interactions he and James have proving otherwise. He’s not sure how someone could be so consistently kind, especially someone with so much power and ego wrapped up in their position. 

“Oi! Potter!” Regulus calls from the side of the ice. James whips his head, hazel eyes piercing directly into Regulus’ as a sly smile fits his face. He skates over nonchalantly, coming right up to where Regulus stands, only the boards between them.

“Black, what are you doing here?” James takes off his gloves and helmet.

“Well, I came to practice, seeing as there’s a competition coming up and there’s usually no one here this late. Why am I not surprised to run into you though? You always seem to just be here whenever I don’t want you around. Which, now that I think of it, is always. Like a gnat.”

James grins, “Well, I have a big game this weekend, so I wanted to practice a few drills on my own. Plus, it’s not like we signed up for the ice, so it really is free reign, you know?” He says, leaning against the boards and into Regulus’ space. 

“Okay, but I need the ice now. You’ve had your time, now go.” Regulus waves his hand out in a shooing motion and James responds by laughing. Laughing.

Instantly the heat of annoyance extends through Regulus’ entire body.

“I’ve got an idea,” James says with a grin. “What if we shared? I take one half, and you take the other?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “Over my dead body am I sharing the ice with you.”

“Well, write me an obituary then, because I’m not leaving. I have every right to be here, same as you.”

Regulus huffs. “I need the whole rink to practice, Potter. I can’t get enough speed without it.”

“No, you don’t, Regulus. You just don’t want to share it with me. Either split it down the middle, or you can leave. I was here first.”

James turns and skates off, leaving Regulus to make up his mind. With a frustrated sigh, Regulus resigns himself to sharing the ice, knowing deep down he really does need the practice.

He can ignore James.

He can.

Regulus groans as he sits down to lace up his skates. Almost all of his annoyance fades the second he hits the ice, the smooth glide calming him as he begins to meticulously practice his routine on his half of the rink.

But he can feel James’ eyes on him, the weight of his gaze following every move. Despite his focus, Regulus can't shake the sense of being watched as he skates, jumps, and spins. He tries to shake the feeling of James’ eyes as he gears up for the move he needs to practice the most: his hydroblade. He starts skating, slowly bending his leg and sinking closer to the ground until the ice is underneath his fingertips. A smile pulls at his lips as he nails the move, intensely focused. As he stands back up, slowing down to a stop, he can't help but let out an excited yelp.

The sound of clapping rings in the air and he turns to see James standing and cheering him on. Regulus attempts to roll his eyes, but the smile pulling at his lips betrays him. Skating over to where James is, he sends him a pointed look. 

“Are you really cheering for me right now?” His voice comes out like honey, which is unintended, but with a bitter edge to it.

“Well, yeah, of course! That was amazing! You look incredible on the ice, you know. Angelic almost.”

They’re only a few inches apart, and Regulus hates the way his cheeks heat at the compliment and his breath hitches when James closes in on him. 

“You okay, Black?” James says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“M’fine,” Regulus chokes out, his voice faltering as James skates another inch closer.

“Am I making you nervous?” James asks, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips as he leans in a little closer.

“No, you could never make me nervous.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” James teases, his grin widening. “You seem a little tense right now.”

Unfortunately, they’ve been here before. As nice as James is, he does also have that cocky side to him. The one that reminds Regulus how he’s made it so far in this sport, how he has his entire team wrapped around his finger. And that’s what makes this game between them so fun.

Regulus musters up whatever strength he has in him to push back. Closing in another inch too, the space between them is almost nonexistent now.

“Are you sure I’m the only one who’s nervous?” Regulus asks with a tilt of his head.

James’ pupils blow wide, and Regulus tracks the way his Adam's apple bobs, eyes flicking down briefly to Regulus’ lips.

Their breath mingles in the close space between them, and Regulus can practically hear his own heart pounding in his ears. He never knows which one of them will break first, but it’s inevitable that one of them will. Whether it’s locker rooms, parties, or empty classrooms, somehow he and James always find each other.

Regulus hates it. But he also loves it. Craves it. The bickering, the teasing, the push and pull—it’s a game they can’t seem to quit. And Regulus honestly isn’t sure which one of them is winning anymore.

However, when James leans in, his lips brushing the spot behind Regulus’ ear—the one that drives them both crazy—He decides he doesn’t even care anymore. Not when James is this close to him, the smell of his sweat filling Regulus’ senses, and the thought of his skin being within reach makes it all the more intense.

“Get in the penalty box, James,” Regulus whispers, savoring the low rumble that escapes from him.

“So it’s James now?” There’s a glimmer in his eye, one that pisses Regulus off. “I had a feeling we’d end up here,” James says confidently, his hand wrapping around Regulus’ as they skate toward the box. “We always do.”

“Fuck you, James,” Regulus mutters, giving James a gentle shove into the box.

“Oh, I intend to, sweetheart. A nice reward for nailing that trick.”

Regulus tries to stifle the sound caught in his throat, but it slips out anyway as James pulls him into a kiss, and he melts into it. Just like he always does.

Thank god no one ever shows up to the rink this late.

[the-starlight-mistress]

Idk if anyone has done this already but I’m gonna analyze the fuck out of this shot now.

I’ve seen other people talk about the key in the middle of the book so I’m gonna skip that detail and go right into the symbols.

Going clockwise this is what I see:

- Top center is a small shiny sort of shape, most likely the hero symbol, Goldie’s sun. There isn’t a sun-like symbol elsewhere on the cover and this one is also directly opposite from the crescent key which we know is the villain (nox’s) symbol.

- next is a bell. I’m gonna be honestly this is one I didn’t really have an idea for. I feel like it’s such an interesting symbol to use but I have no idea what role it could correlate with

- a crown. For a while now I’ve had the thought that there might be a leader role, a king of the country sort of vibe.

- next is violet’s villainess diamond. which is interesting because her key is inserted where silvers symbol should be. Which I guess makes sense I just didn’t expect it.

- this is another symbol I’m not too sure about. Honestly I don’t even know what it’s supposed to be. It just looks like a shape rather than anything more specific. It is opposite to bronze’s helper apple so maybe it has something to do with that. Like maybe it is the villain’s helper which would be a minion/henchmen or something.

Next is a star. It’s opposite from the heart so my first thought was it might be some opposite to a romantic interest, however I feel like I saw punko say somewhere that there’s no romantic interest role. So I was wracking my brain trying to think of what the heart and by extension the star could be. It’s not a strong theory but this is what I landed on. The heart is the soulmate, whether that’s platonic, familial, or romantic. And the star is the unattainable idol. It’s a bit of a reach but I could see it happening.

- crescent moon. This is nox’s symbol. The villan key. The moon to Goldie’s sun. Not much to say about it that I haven’t already seen

- some sort of crossbow?? I’m not exactly sure if that’s what this shape is but that’s what it seemed like immediately. I saw a while ago someone conceptualize the idea of a thief key and even though that feels a bit too specific I kinda wonder if this key is something along those lines. This key is also opposite from the bell but idk what that would mean for either of them. Maybe the bell is the lawful good to the crossbow’s chaotic evil? However it doesn’t seem like every key has an “opposite” so their positioning might not mean everything

- next is a quill I think. My only guess for this would be a sort of narrator role. Like maybe this is the person who keeps the story in order. Given how season 1 ended I’m not sure how much the story needs that sort of role but it’s the only theory I could come up with.

- next is where silver’s heroine key should be if violet’s key wasn’t in the way.

- bronze’s helper apple is next. I honestly thought this was a pig with wings for the longest time. But it makes so much more sense as bronze’s apple

- finally is a heart. If the soulmate idea isn’t right i don’t really know what this one could be.

Idk just some thoughts. I’d love to hear some discussion because I’m so curious about what other people think of this.

[thedeafprophet]

On Eurylochus, Mutiny, and Starvation

I've seen a lot of discussion around choices made by the crew, and especially Eurylochus that have often not felt to be quite hitting the point. I've seen quite a few things in passing of analysis that seems to downplay the actions with the cow and make a mocking of a starving man, making him out to be dumb and 'just wanting a burger' or jokes around those lines, or worse, saying that he 'deserved to die' for acts made in desperation. [For as foolish as a notion as a character 'deserving' to die in a tragedy.]

It wouldn't bother me as much, if i hadn't also seen people tend to be dismissive of Eurylochus' character anf struggles in general. I think that does a disservice Eurolcyhus, the severity of the situation, the difficulty of odysseus' choice, and the overall themes.

Hunger and food are a frequent theme and struggle right from the beginning, something we are put to think about from the get go. One of the first things we hear from Eurylochus in full speed ahead is concern over food, most especially with that of the crew and feeding that many people. it is that situation that leads them to polythemus' cave - it is hunger and the aim to fend off starvation that leads to the killing of the sheep. Perhaps it could be said that all this wrath of gods and monsters itself is against humans for daring to try and survive...

This theme isn't just there, we see it again with Circe's island, and her offering of food and that changing the men to pigs. One could say its a reflection of greed, but with the over all notion of the severity, that is not at all comparable in my view. The constant struggle and search for food is vastly important.

and, of course, we see it especially, at the end of mutiny, with Eury. It was illogical, wasn't it? of course he shouldnt have killed those cows, of course he should have known punishment would come. the logic was there, surely he can't have wanted it that bad? Why didn't he just think logically like Odysseus?

except, that's not how hunger works.

For some context, this is a topic that hits close to me personally, as before I had surgery to help mitigate symptoms, I deal with a condition that caused me to be unable to eat properly for 2 years, by the end point I was basically starving on a day to day basis. Hunger is *heavy*. Unless you've experienced it, you cannot fully understand what it does to the body and to the mind.

It affects more than just making you hungry - you become exhausted, your body unable to fuel itself. headaches, brain fog, complete inability to process and think as you're supposed to. Your emotions run haywire, anger and depression can hit you so heavily. Sleep becomes disturbed, everything becomes dizzy, as your body turns inword, destorying itself until there's nothing left.

You cannot function properly at all.

It's easy as a listener to a musical to dismiss hunger, but the reality is vicious, painful, and destructive. in that condition, how could Eurylochus keep strong? keep motivated? think logically?

Combined with all the other intense trauma and loss, Eurylochus and the crew had been pushed to extensive limits. In better times, they would have never made that choice, never turned against Ody that way. Just as Ody would have never sacrificed his men like that, had it not been for the event that had transpired previously. That is the crux of a tragedy, the fact that thingd could have gone differently, but they didnt.

Yes, killing the cows was a illogical choice.

But hunger has a way with you.

No, it wasn't a good choice. It was an action done in desperation, a burst of irrtionatity fuel by hunger and pain. But refusing to understand why that choice was made does the story and its characters a disservice.

[doodler16]

The last anon ask with the "Greek mythology written by Vivziepop" inspired me so much that I want to give my own extension of that for the fun of it.

Zeus is a combo of Stolas and Lucifer (and also has the insatiable lust Asmodeus should have). Let's not forget that he also gives everyone the indispensable 🎉Daddy Issues🎉

Hera is obviously just Stella 2.0 and she is always SCREAMING and ABUSING little poor UWU baby boy Zeus for sleeping around like there's no tomorrow.

Ares is basically Adam,a fucking big loser nobody likes who is always talking about his HUGE DICK (and we're supposed to find that both funny/annoying at the same time) and crime rate. I actually know an Ares from a Webtoon called "Divine Delivery" that is treated as a loser (but he is not doing the other shits mentioned and is funnier than whatever Viv could ever make).

Not Zeus being a combination of Stolas and Lucifer. That would be hell on earth and Vivziepop would be biased towards him. It doesn’t help that design-wise more specifically their hair looks very similar to each other.

[luckyroll3]

Quid Pro Quo: Chapter 3

Masterlist and Summary

Warnings: This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only. Includes explicit sexual content, graphic language, some violence, etc. Author chooses to not extensively tag in order to preserve some elements of storytelling.

Word Count: 8,357

You walk into the library, the scent of old books and brewed coffee mingling in the air, a comforting embrace to your senses. The sun filters through the high windows, casting a warm glow on the array of chairs and tables. You find Chan at your usual spot, his textbook open, papers scattered like fallen leaves around him. He looks up as you approach, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips, that hint of boyish charm that you’ve come to adore. 

"Hey," he greets, a hand running through his blonde hair, a bit more tame than usual today. 

“Hi.” You slide into the chair across from him, suppressing a smile. “You look like shit.” His face is slightly puffy and there are dark circles under his eyes.

"Thanks. I feel like shit.” Chan rubs the back of his neck. “So, uh, about my party the other night. I was pretty wasted and heard I may have said and done some inappropriate things. Just wanted to apologize if I crossed any lines with you." His brown eyes look genuinely concerned. You can't help but find it endearing.

“Did you actually make it through all 21 shots?”

“I’m not sure. I think so cause I've been nursing a hangover from hell for the past few days and piecing together my dignity.”  

You smirk. "From what I saw, you were nothing but a perfect gentleman. At least, to me." You lean forward, resting your chin on your palm. "But I can't vouch for anything that went down when you vanished up the stairs with that brunette."

Chan's eyes widen for a moment before he bursts out laughing. The sound is deep and rich, echoing off the bookshelves. "I’m not even sure what happened with her. I think she gave me head? Maybe more? I don’t fucking know. I haven’t had that much to drink in a while," he quips, still grinning. “And thank you again for the gift. I started reading Desperation.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is, actually. It was very thoughtful.” He locks eyes with you for a brief moment before looking down at his notebook. "Should we get started?"

The session unfolds with the usual rhythm—your explanations punctuated by his quick understanding. Yet, today feels different. His gaze lingers as you explain a complex equation, making your cheeks warm. When you catch his eye, he quickly looks away. You sense his gaze lingering longer than necessary, eyes tracing the curve of your jaw, the fall of your hair. Each time you catch him, the air thickens, charged with an unspoken question.

"What?!" you finally ask when his brown eyes meet yours once more, teasingly assessing. 

"Nothing," Chan says, but his tone carries a note of mischief, a flirtatious edge that's hard to ignore. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his shirt stretching taut against his pecs. 

“There’s nothing on my face?”

"What? No, I’m just... looking at you. I mean, listening. To the math stuff," Chan stammers.

You raise an eyebrow. "Uh huh, riiiiight,” you reply unconvinced. “Well, pay attention to the numbers, not me."

“You’re much prettier than numbers though.” A playful lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Focus, Channie," you tease, trying to keep the atmosphere light. "We have work to do."

"Alright, alright," he concedes, turning his attention back to the equations on the pages spread out before him.

As the clock ticks toward the end of your session, you pack up your things, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical touch. "My place or yours for tomorrow?" you ask.

"Actually," Chan replies, closing his textbook with a soft thud, "mind if we do it at my place? Roommates will be out. We'll have the house to ourselves. Less eyes and ears than at your dorm."

Your pulse quickens at the thought; your next session is the one you’ve been anticipating, the final session. You nod, trying to keep your voice even. "Sure, sounds good."

"Great," he says, standing up with a stretch that showcases the lines of his body. His shirt shifts up a few inches when he brings his hands over his head, exposing the delicate v-line cut descending towards his crotch area. "It's a date then."

"Not a date," you correct, with a side eye in his direction.

"Riiiiiight," he echoes your earlier skepticism, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "See you tomorrow."

As you leave the library, his words linger in your mind.

****

You step into Chan's house, the scent of spices and laughter greeting you as if they were old friends beckoning you inside. The sight of his roommates gathered around the dining table, plates heaped with food, catches you off guard. You expected an empty house, privacy – not a lively dinner party.

"Hey," he says, dimples appearing as he grins apologetically. "Slight change of plans. The guys decided to stay in tonight. Hope you don't mind?"

“I guess not,” you say as you step inside. 

They greet you with friendly smiles and boisterous laughter, insisting that you join them for dinner.

"Hey. Sit! Eat!!" Felix calls out, waving a fork in your direction. 

"Come on, we've got plenty to share," Hyunjin says, gesturing to the heaping plates of food.

Chan guides you to a chair, his hand lingering on the small of your back. As you sit, he slides in next to you, his thigh brushing yours under the table. He leans in close, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. "Sorry about the surprise audience," he murmurs.

The meal is a riot of flavors and laughter. They're just as charming and funny as Chan, humor dancing in their eyes, and you find yourself pulled into their warmth like a moth to flame.

“Astrophysics, huh?” Minho asks. “I didn’t think that was a real career. I’ve only heard about it in movies. Never actually met one.”

You laugh, about to respond when you feel Chan's hand on your knee. Your breath catches as his fingers trace lazy circles on your skin.

“Uhm, yeah. There aren’t many of us, but we exist. Our university is actually one of the top schools for astrophysics and astrobiology research.” The boys all nod, super interested.

When they learn about your interest in black holes, they start to talk about the movie Interstellar. You try to concentrate on the banter, but Chan’s discrete touch under the table steals away your focus, igniting a fire within you that you struggle to keep hidden. 

The conversation soon turns to you and Chan. 

"So, you're the one who's got Chan actually cracking a book," Hyunjin teases.

“Yeah Chan, what's gotten into you?" Minho jokes, elbowing him playfully. "You actually care about passing now?"

Chan's hand inches higher, and you struggle to keep your expression neutral as the conversation flows around you. 

“I’ve always cared about passing. I just never had to study before. You do know I have a 3.925 GPA right? I’m not just a pretty face…” He blows a kiss at Minho who pretends to catch it and put it in his pocket. “... that’s Hyunjin,” Chan continues with a smirk.

“Hey! I got good grades!” Hyunjin says, offended. 

“You’re an art major; of course you ‘got good grades’,” Minho teases. Hyunjin balls up his napkin and throws it at Minho.

"Seriously though," Felix addresses you, "we've never seen Chan work this hard in any class. You must be some kind of miracle worker."

You chuckle, trying to keep your composure as Chan's hand moves into your underwear. You’re now rethinking your decision to wear a skirt.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," you manage. "His motivation is purely self-preservation.” You take a deep breath when you feel his fingers enter you. "Hmmm…,” the sound emerges unexpectedly from your throat as you try to refocus on your words. “Actually, it's more like Chan doesn't want to fail and get kicked out. I'm just here to make sure he doesn't."

You take a sip of water, the cool liquid doing little to quell the heat from Chan's relentless exploration. 

"Sure, sure," Hyunjin teases, winking at you. "And how have you managed to resist his charms?”

You gasp softly against the glass as Chan removes his fingers. You watch flabbergasted as he places those same fingers in his mouth, followed by a devastating grin as he forks his last piece of lasagna. 

“Most women can't last a day around Chan without falling for him," Felix adds. 

Minho nods as he sits back, “I personally don’t get it.”

“Oh please. We all know that Chan is hot,” Hyunjin says. 

“Speak for yourself,” Minho deadpans.

You open your mouth, not sure how to answer, when Chan suddenly stands. "Alright, enough with the interrogation," he announces. "We've got studying to do." He grips your hand, tugging you gently away from the table. 

“Thanks for dinner,” you call over your shoulder. 

Chan leads you upstairs to the sanctuary of his bedroom. The door clicks shut behind you, muffling the residual laughter from the dining room. He locks the door then turns to face you, the playful glint in his eye yielding to sincerity.

"About my roommates..." He begins, running a hand through his tousled hair. "I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable."

You shake your head, dismissing his concern. "It's fine, Chan.”

“Do you still want to continue with the next lesson here?”

"Of course," you reply, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"We can head to your dorm…” You shake your head no. “Alright then." He takes a deep breath, his demeanor shifting into something more serious, more instructional. He perches on the edge of his cluttered desk. "So, the mechanics of sex," he starts, locking eyes with you. His voice is low, intimate as if sharing a secret meant only for you. "It's important to understand that women don’t often cum during sex, and many guys... well, they won't make it a priority. They don’t care."

“Is that true for you?”

“It depends. Sometimes I just want to fuck; when I get off, I’m good and I’m not worried about anything or anyone else. Other times, I take it as a personal challenge to make the women I’m with cum. It’s why I have the reputation I do.” He smirks. 

You lean against the door, absorbing every word, feeling the weight of their truth. Chan's honesty is disarming, and you can't help but wonder at the contradiction he poses: a man known for fleeting pleasures teaching you the importance of personal satisfaction.

"So this is something you might have to prioritize for yourself if your partner doesn't. Make sure you communicate what you need," he continues, "because your pleasure matters too." 

His gaze holds yours, unwavering, the air between you charged. And in this quiet room, with the world shut out, you feel the slow burn of discovery begin to smolder within you, stoked by the words of a man who defies his own reputation.

The soft croon of an R&B ballad fills the room as Chan's hands glide over your skin. His fingers trail along your collarbone, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "I'm going to undress you now," he murmurs. "Tell me if you want me to stop."

His lips find your neck, peppering soft kisses as he slowly unbuttons your shirt. You shiver at the sensation, your hands instinctively moving to his waist.

"You can touch me too," Chan encourages between kisses. "Explore what feels good."

Your own hands explore the planes of his body, feeling his muscles flex under your touch. A groan escapes him when your fingers drift lower, caressing him through the thin fabric still separating your bodies. Your fingers hesitantly slide under his shirt, tracing the planes of his abs. 

Chan hums approvingly against your skin. He tugs down the zipper of your skirt with a deliberate tenderness that makes your breath hitch, as his lips then move to your collarbone, kissing and sucking tenderly. His hands gently slide the fabric of the skirt over your ass before letting it fall to the ground with a whisper. Then he repeats the action with your underwear. With each touch, you feel the walls around you dissolve, leaving nothing but the intimacy of this shared space.

Each new inch of exposed skin receives his devoted attention���soft kisses, whispered words of desire, the heat of his mouth as he worships you. And you feel the results dripping between your legs. His mouth kisses the side of your hip, then your lower belly, a nipple, and stops just above your chest.

"Your turn," he murmurs against your collarbone, guiding your fingers to the hem of his shirt. You peel the fabric up and away, revealing the contours of his athletic build—a landscape of muscle and skin that beckons your exploration. The deep dimples in his cheeks flash as he grins, his usual cocky demeanor softened by this sensual dance of give and take.

Once both of you are fully undressed, Chan gently guides you onto the bed, his strong arms supporting your weight as he lowers you onto the soft sheets. Lying back on the bed, the world narrows down to the heat of his body pressing into yours. He takes a moment to grab a condom from the nightstand. The crinkle of the wrapper sounds like thunder in the quiet room as he carefully sheathes himself, locking eyes with you to gauge your comfort every step of the way. He hovers above you, eyes drinking you in, dimples flashing as his lips curl into a smile.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. You nod, unable to find your own words as desire pools in your core. His lips find yours in a slow, sensual kiss.

"We'll take this nice and slow," he murmurs, his breath hot against your cheek. His fingers trail downward, skimming over your body. He parts your legs, slipping a finger into your moist warmth. “Good,” he whispers. “You’re nice and wet. This is why the foreplay is so important.” He slots his body in between your legs, positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance. "Remember, communication is key. Tell me what feels good, what doesn't."

You nod. Slowly, he enters you, his movements deliberate and controlled. This is no rushed conquest; it's a lesson of connection, and you're his willing pupil.

When he comes up against a bit of resistance, he says softly, “This might hurt a little. If it’s too much, tell me to stop.” He pushes through with slightly more force, causing you to grunt. He brings his lips to yours and kisses you through the pain as he enters you fully, his cock buried deep within you. 

"You okay?" he checks in, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, slightly overwhelmed by the feel and the intimacy of the moment. "Yeah, I'm good."

He begins to talk you through various positions, demonstrating each one with a practiced ease. With every shift and change, you learn something new about your own body, and how it responds to him.

"Let's try something else," he breathes out as he shifts your bodies into a new position—one where you can see the intensity in his gaze, feel the full depth of him within you. And then another change, his movements guided by whispered instructions that lace through the music and settle into the rhythm of your heart.

Above you, Chan moves with controlled precision, showing you the contrast between slow, purposeful thrusts and a faster, more urgent tempo. The difference is stark, awakening sensations inside you that you hadn't known existed. Your focus tunnels in on the sound of your mingled breaths, the pressure building within you, and Chan's unwavering attention.

As time passes, your surroundings fade away until all that exists is the two of you, moving together in perfect harmony. The only sounds are the rhythm of your breathing and the quiet rustle of the sheets beneath you, careful not to alert his roommates to your activities.

Even after he finds his own release, he doesn't falter in his dedication to you; he's determined to bring you to an orgasm. "Focus on your pleasure," he whispers into your ear, his voice soothing. His fingers move to your clit, teasing, rubbing, pinching.

His whispers become a mantra in your ear, telling you how close you are, urging you on with words meant to embolden rather than seduce—yet they accomplish both.

With each thrust and each touch of his fingers against your clit, you feel the heat building inside you, spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your hips buck against him uncontrollably as you chase your release. 

"You're so close," Chan murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Just let go."

You can feel it now, that intense physical build up. Every nerve ending is on fire as Chan works his magic on your body. And then finally, with one last burst of energy, you shatter into a million pieces.

Your entire body tenses as waves of electricity wash over you, making you tremble and gasp for breath. It's an explosion of sensations that leaves you feeling completely satisfied and utterly spent. Chan whispers praises in your ear as he watches your face contort in pleasure, his own eyes slowly closing with satisfaction.

As the intensity starts to fade and reality comes crashing back in, Chan gently pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed. The two of you lay there for a few moments, catching your breaths.

In the aftermath, flushed and panting softly, the room feels impossibly large and yet entirely intimate. Chan's gaze lingers on you, a look so intense it nearly overshadows the physical pleasure. It's almost as if he's trying to forge a deeper connection with you, one that transcends the boundaries you’ve set. You tell yourself it's all part of the lesson, but the warmth in his eyes challenges the very notion of detachment he's always embraced. But you remind yourself that this is just an educational experience, and you try to focus on the sensations rather than the emotions they evoke.

"Okay?" His voice is a tender rumble.

"More than okay," you admit, finding truth in the vulnerability of this moment—and wondering if this is just another layer of Chan's enigmatic persona or a glimpse into a desire for something deeper.

The room is still as Chan's arms envelop you in a gentle embrace, his breath warm against the damp skin of your neck. He kisses the tender spot just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You're cocooned in a post-orgasmic haze, muscles languid and mind blissfully adrift.

"Talk to me," he murmurs. His lips brush your ear, voice low and husky. "So, how do you feel?"

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. "It was... intense. Different than I expected," you admit, as he traces idle patterns on your arm. "There were moments of discomfort, but also amazing pleasure I've never felt before."

You take a deep breath and describe the sensations that coursed through your body, the rush of heat, the clench of pleasure, and the way his gaze seemed to pierce right through you. The intimacy of the moment is unnerving yet exhilarating.

Chan hums, his fingers trailing along your spine. "That's normal. It gets better with practice. Less discomfort, more pleasure," he murmurs, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "What were you thinking about during?"

You laugh softly. "Honestly? I was trying to remember all your damn instructions. And... wondering if this is how it always feels."

As you speak, Chan wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you close as he listens intently. His lips brush against your neck, shoulders, and back, leaving a trail of soft, tender kisses.

His chuckle reverberates through you. "Every time is different. But that's part of the fun."

The conversation shifts, meandering into lighter topics — anecdotes from classes, shared jokes, the odd habits of his roommates, mutual friends, ridiculous campus rumors. Laughter soon replaces the heavy silence, light and carefree. You talk about everything and nothing. You're surprised at how easy it is to just be with Chan, to share stories, talk, laugh. An hour passes in what feels like minutes.

Suddenly, Chan's hand slides down your hip. "Want to try again? Round two?" he asks. His voice is playful, but his eyes are earnest, seeking your consent. 

You nod, curiosity piqued by this new dynamic. 

"This time, you can be on top. It'll give you more control."

"Okay, show me." You straddle him gingerly.

Chan rolls on another condom before guiding you over his erect cock, his hands steady on your hips. You breathe out slowly as you slide down his length, taking him all the way into you.  

"Move however feels good," he instructs. "Experiment with different angles until you feel a tingling. That’s how you’ll know you’ve got the right position."

You shift and shimmy on him, cataloguing the differences in each position. When you feel like a buzzer keeps getting pressed, you settle into that position and focus on duplicating the feeling over and over again. 

"Good, just like that," he encourages quietly as he steadies your hips, guiding you to find the pace that draws moans from your lips. 

As you continue to move, Chan's eyes lock onto yours. The intensity of his gaze is almost overwhelming. You've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so powerful at the same time. It's one of the most intimate experiences you've ever had.

"That's it," he encourages, his voice strained. "You're doing great."

With a confidence boost from his encouraging smile, you pick up the pace. Chan's fingers press into your flesh with deliberate intent. "Keep going," he coaches, "feel how you control the movement? How you can take what you need?"

As you find your rhythm, your world narrows to the locked gaze between you. Chan's brown eyes are an endless well of emotion, pulling you deeper into the sensation and connection. As you start to reach your peak, he whispers sweet, romantic, dirty words that make you blush. His whispers dance around the room—affirmations of beauty, of desire, of something dangerously close to affection.

When your orgasm hits and you gasp his name, the tenderness in his eyes catches you off guard.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his fingers brushing delicately across your skin. "Absolutely breathtaking."

As the realization dawns on you that the lighthearted joke from the other night might have been rooted in genuine emotion, you feel a mix of exhilaration and trepidation.

Afterward, entwined in the sheets and each other, Chan's fingers idly play with your hair. His voice is a soft buzz against your ear as he murmurs, "You're welcome to stay the night… if you want."

You hesitate, as reality crashes back. This closeness is addictive, but dangerous. This isn't real, you remind yourself. It's just educational. You can't afford to blur lines already smudged by these intimate lessons. 

You shake your head quickly. "Thanks for the offer, but I should go," you say, sitting up. "Early class tomorrow." 

Chan nods, his expression mostly unreadable. "Okay," he says with no hint of disappointment, only respect. “I’ll walk you home.”

After getting dressed, you and Chan walk silently, side by side, back to your dorm. The night air is cool against your flushed skin; it’s a stark contrast to the warmth of Chan's hand that lightly grazes yours as you move. At the entrance, you turn to face him.

"Thank you, Chan. For everything. You've been... great. Thank you for being so kind to me, making me feel safe and comfortable. You’re a true gentleman." Your voice wavers as you wrap your arms around his torso, pulling him into a hug. You feel his arms tighten around your back. Your lips brush his cheek, leaving a feather-light kiss. 

As you pull away, something flickers in his eyes, but it's gone before you can identify it.

“No problem. Have a good night.”

"Goodnight," you whisper as he turns to walk away, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You sigh and use your student ID to gain access to the building. Your thoughts are already drifting to the upcoming anniversary date with Changbin. 

Back in the solitude of your room, you clutch your phone, heart racing as you type a message to Changbin. Excitement bubbles inside you.

You:

Can't wait to celebrate with you this weekend.

Cuddle Binnie:

Neither can I, babe. 

****

You step into the opulent suite, and the view steals your breath away. The salty breeze caresses your skin as you step onto the large balcony. The endless ocean stretches out before you, the horizon kissing the sky in a perfect line. A small jacuzzi bubbles invitingly off to the side. Changbin's arms wrap around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

"Happy anniversary," he whispers, and the sincerity in his voice swathes around your heart like a silk scarf. He presses a gentle kiss to your neck.

You turn in his embrace, taking in his warm smile and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Changbin, this is... incredible. I can't believe you did all this." When Changbin had mentioned a weekend getaway to celebrate, the last thing you’d imagined was a luxurious suite at a five-star hotel. 

He grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Only the best for you. Now, how about we get ready for dinner? I've got reservations at that fancy seafood place you've been wanting to try.”

Dinner is incredible. Each course is more decadent than the last, and Changbin watches you with an intensity that makes every bite feel like a caress. 

You find yourself employing some of the subtle flirting techniques you've learned. A lingering touch here, a coy glance there, a game of footsie under the table. Changbin seems to be drinking it all in, his eyes darkening with desire. You place your hand in his lap, using your thumb to gently brush along the outline of his cock.

"You're killing me here," he whispers, leaning in close, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Maybe we should skip dessert and head back to the hotel?" he suggests, his breath warm against your ear.

You giggle, knowing exactly what he’s implying and feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Patience, babe. We've got all weekend,” you tease. “But did you see the bourbon bread pudding with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce? We’re definitely NOT skipping dessert."

He laughs and gives you a soft kiss. "I already ordered it for you," he confesses against your lips.

You’re so touched by this thoughtful gesture, you can’t help but deepen the kiss, holding his head in place with both hands.

“See,” you whisper between kisses. “This is why you're my favorite.” You resume the passionate exchange. 

After dinner, you stroll hand-in-hand along the moonlit beach. The sound of waves lapping at the shore provides a soothing backdrop to your conversation. The sand is cool and comforting under your bare feet. 

"Did I tell you how stunning you look tonight?" Changbin grins, his eyes sparkling as he glances at you. 

"Only about a dozen times," you tease, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "But who's counting?" You continue walking silently for a few minutes, nearing closer to the hotel. 

You feel your phone vibrate in the pocket of your dress, slicing through the calm. You hand Changbin your heels before retrieving it. It’s a message from Chan. Your stomach does a flip as you open it. 

Chan:

Good luck tonight. 

Hope it’s everything you wanted and imagined.

You deserve it. 

You stare at it, a flicker of conflict crossing your mind before you quickly slip the phone back into your pocket without responding. This moment is about you and Changbin—no one else.

Changbin notices your momentary distraction. “Everything okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, it’s just Chan. But nothing important,” you reassure him. You wrap your arms tightly around his and rest your head on his large biceps as you continue your walk to the hotel. 

Back in the sanctity of your suite, the door clicks shut, sealing away the world. The soft glow of moonlight illuminates the room as Changbin gently leads you to the plush king-sized bed.

Changbin's touch is soft, his kisses painting strokes of affection along your skin. As he slowly undresses you, his fingers brushing against your skin with each delicate movement, you find yourself enveloped in a cocoon of passion and desire. You can't help but compare his touches to Chan's. But then Changbin looks into your eyes with such love and tenderness that all thoughts of Chan fade away. 

"Are you sure you’re ready?" His voice is a husky murmur against your ear.

You nod, pulling him close. "I've never been more sure of anything." You fall back onto the bed, pulling him on top of you. “I want you,” you whisper. 

Changbin grins, desire burning in his gaze. "I want you too, baby." He captures your mouth in a fiery kiss. Then his lips trail down your neck to your chest. 

Changbin's mouth finds your breast, sucking a nipple between his lips. You gasp, your fingers raking through his hair. He gives you one quick kiss in the center of your chest before leaning back with a soft sigh. He takes in the sight of your naked body beneath him. His eyes roam hungrily over every inch of you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs.

His eyes never leave yours as he stands and undresses, first pulling his sweater over his head, then stepping out of his slacks and underwear. He finally breaks eye contact to walk to his bag. You can’t help but bite your bottom lip as you watch his brawny physique walk away, his muscles twitching just beneath the skin of his broad back. Your eyes settle on his plump ass, your favorite part of his body. He retrieves a box of condoms from the side pocket and walks back to the bed. 

“I’ve had this for over 6 months,” he says with a laugh as he opens the box.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting,” you say, covering your face bashfully. “Just know it wasn’t you, it was me.” 

“No need to apologize. I was happy to wait for you to be ready, babe.” He removed a single sleek black square packet, carefully ripping it open. The condom glides smoothly onto his eager erection as you watch him with anticipation.  

Your outstretched arms beckon him towards you as you whisper, “Come here.” He takes your hand, enthusiastically following your instructions as you pull him back to you. As he climbs over you, you place a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid thumping of his heart against your palm. His cock presses insistently against your thigh.

He leans down to kiss you, tenderly at first, before letting his desire take over. Then he reaches down, positioning himself at your entrance with deliberate care. He locks his eyes on yours and you nod. He enters you slowly, inch by inch, groaning as your tight heat envelops him. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you feel yourself stretched by his undeniable girth. Finally, after a year, the two of you have come together in a union of soulful intimacy.

He pauses to allow you time to adjust to him. “Are you good?” he asks softly. 

“So good,” you whisper. 

“Good.” He brings his lips back to yours. “Keep telling me what you like, ok?” You nod.

Changbin moves with a grace that might be unexpected based on his large, muscular frame, each motion a testament to his attentiveness. He explores you slowly, worshipfully, mapping every sigh and shiver that escapes your lips. His thrusts are sure and steady, hitting all the right spots, drawing out every sensation. He’s gentle, caring, always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable. He kisses your neck and whispers encouragements in your ear. It’s everything you imagined and more.

As he increases the pace, his fingertips sink into the flesh of your thigh as he holds your leg up against his body, adding another layer of pleasure to the intense full-body sensation washing over you. “You feel amazing,” he whispers. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, deeper, as you match his rhythm. You're getting used to this newfound control and power over his body, as he moans your name over and over again. It sends shivers down your spine every time he says it. A feeling of being seen and desired floods through you as he gazes at you with nothing but lust, and you think also love, in his eyes. Every inch of your skin tingles under his touch, his breath against it.

"Changbin," you moan his name as he continues to thrust into you with teasing kisses.

In this moment, there is no doubt in your mind that this is where you belong – in Changbin's arms, with his love surrounding you. As his name falls from your lips again and again, he brings you to the peak of pleasure before following closely behind.

When the explosion hits, it consumes you both.

Your name falls from Changbin's lips like a prayer as he clutches onto the sheets with white-knuckled hands. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, stilling inside of you as he tries to catch his breath while holding on to this moment forever.

Finally, you feel him grin against your skin. “Wow,” he pants out. “Totally worth the wait.”

You dare not move or breathe too much for fear of losing this bubble of intimacy around the two of you. As if reading your mind, Changbin cuddles you tightly. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before he rests his head against your chest, still catching his breath. Your fingers trail lightly along his back, and you feel a deep sense of contentment wash over you.  

This moment, being with Changbin like this, feels right in a way you've never experienced before. There's a new intimacy between you now, one that goes beyond just the physical. You've connected on a much deeper level.

Changbin lifts his head to look at you, pure adoration in his eyes. "I love you," he says softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You freeze for a second, the weight of those three words hitting you. It’s the first time he’s said them. Your heart clenches as you stare into his vulnerable, hopeful gaze.

"I love you too," you whisper back. A brilliant smile brightens his face at your words. 

The memories of the night you met flood back. It was at a crowded party at his frat house. When one of his drunken brothers made a lewd comment about you and touched you inappropriately, he swiftly intervened and tossed the offender across the room. In that moment, something clicked for you; you were drawn to this hulking beefcake with the charming smile and kind eyes who defended your honor without even knowing your name. You’d never been attracted to anyone in the way you were to him. 

After an hour, he eases off of you to head to the bathroom to discard the condom. When he returns, he’s carrying a champagne bottle that has been chilling since you checked in earlier that night. He pops the cork, then hops back into bed.

“To us,” he cheers softly, bringing the bottle to his lips for a sip before passing it to you. 

“To us,” you echo. The two of you share the champagne, talk, and make out for the next hour or so, until the bubbles have gone to your head, and you fall asleep in his arms. 

The next morning, you wake still wrapped in Changbin. One arm is draped over your hip, the other is beneath your neck with his hand resting on your chest. When he feels you stir, he pulls you closer to his body, eliminating any space between the two of you. You can also feel his erection pressing into your back. 

“Good morning, beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Morning.” You place your hands on top of his and pull his embrace even tighter.

“You sleep okay?”

“I did. You?”

“Yeah. But I always sleep well when I’m next to you.” He nuzzles against your neck. “Last night was….”

“Amazing,” you finish for him. 

He laughs. “Yes, amazing.”

“I’m kicking myself for forcing us to wait for so long. I’m sorry.”

“No, the anticipation made it so much more worth it." His fingers find their way to your chin, turning your head towards him so he can kiss you softly. “And I loved how you knew exactly what you wanted and didn’t want, and communicated that without hesitation or shame. Very rare for women our age. You’ve been in complete control of your needs and desires since we’ve met and honestly, I find it fucking sexy. Resulted in a lot of cold showers for me, but still…”

“And your frat brothers referring to me as the ‘Virgin Mary’?” you ask teasingly.

Changbin laughs loudly. “Yes. How’d you hear about that?”

“Chan,” you say softly. “When he learned I was your celibate girlfriend, he put two and two together.”

“I should have told you. But you know it’s just locker room talk, right? I would never let them disrespect you. I would break their legs before they ever got the sentence out.”

“I know and I don’t really care,” you say with a chuckle as you rub his arm gently. Now that Chan’s name has been brought up, you feel that maybe you should say something about the lessons. “Hey Bin,” you start, unsure of what exactly you will say. “I need to tell you something.”

“You can tell me anything. Is it about Chan?”

“Uhm, yeah.”

“It’s okay, I already know.”

“You do?” you ask curiously.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious. You really like him and the two of you have gotten very close.”

“We have gotten super close,” you say quietly, trying to decide if now might be the best time to tell Changbin exactly how close you’ve gotten to Chan. 

“It’s fine. I really like Chan too. He’s a great guy. I don’t mind if your new best friend is a guy.”

“Okay. But…,” you start to say.

“Shhhhh,” he breathes against your neck as you feel his hand slide down your belly to your clit. He begins to stroke it softly. “Enough about Chan. I don’t want to think about him when I’m fucking you.” You moan as he slips several fingers into you. “It is okay if I fuck you again, right?” He pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“You can fuck me whenever you want,” you say breathlessly. “I’m yours, Bin.” You turn your head to capture his lips in a searing kiss. 

He removes his fingers from you and reaches over your body to grab a condom. Once it’s on, he lifts your top leg over and back across his hip and maneuvers behind you until he’s positioned his cock at your entrance. You gasp as he slides in. This position of you both lying on your sides, your back against his chest, allows you to feel every bit of him as the tip of his cock grazes against every inch of sensitive flesh around your g-spot. 

Changbin begins to thrust slowly at first, his hips meeting yours, the friction sending shivers up your spine. He kisses your shoulder blade and whispers, "I didn’t know I’d love being inside you this much," causing you to shudder with pleasure. You can feel the fullness of him stretching you in ways that are new, and it feels incredible.

As he picks up speed, his hot breath tickles the back of your neck. "I want to taste you," he growls into your ear before lightly nipping at your lobe. His tongue darts out to trace along the contours of your neck. Then without warning, he sinks his teeth in gently making you gasp. He alternates between biting and sucking the sensitive area. The sensation is unbelievable as it sends shockwaves through your body. You lift your head slightly, offering him more access to your neck.

His hands grab yours and interlaces with your fingers as his thrusts become more forceful, as he gets deeper and deeper into you. You move one of his hands down to your clit and he begins to teasingly trace circles around it. The room fills with the sounds of your bodies colliding and your collective moans and gasps.

Your walls begin to clench around him as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to another climax. Every sensation seems amplified under his skilled touch – from the way he sucks on your neck to the way his fingers dance on your clit.

You arch your back, pressing your ass back against him in invitation. He takes it and plunges even deeper, hitting a spot inside you that sends you spiraling out of control. He groans into your neck, a low primal sound that vibrates through him and excites you even more.

"Fuck, Bin," you moan as you feel yourself about to come undone.

Changbin's thrusts become more urgent and less controlled, his hips meeting your ass in a frenzied rhythm. He releases his grip on your neck and presses his cheek against yours, his breathing ragged as he nears his own release.

With one final thrust, he pushes you both over the edge and you cry out as waves of pleasure crash through you. Your walls clench around him tightly, milking every last drop from him.

As Changbin pulls away from you, removing his cock, panting and sweating, you turn to face him. You run your hands through his damp hair, tangling your fingers in his soft waves before moving them down to caress his cherub-like cheeks. Your lips brush against his nose before gently pressing against his plump lips. He eagerly responds by deepening the kiss, pulling you closer and exploring your mouth with his tongue. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and craving more.

You finally come up for air when your stomach growls loudly. Changbin laughs against your lips. 

“Let’s get you some food,” he whispers before reaching for the phone and calling room service.

The weekend unfolds like a dream, a cascade of moments where time loses meaning. It passes in a blissful haze of tangled sheets, sensual explorations, tender caresses, room service, and intimate conversations. You learn the language of each other's bodies. You spend hours wrapped up in each other’s arms. With Changbin, there's no need for lessons or instructions; it's a dance you both know instinctively.

Early Sunday morning, the horizon still dark, you’re both naked in the hot tub, the water warm and soothing against your skin. You’re straddling Changbin with your foreheads pressed together, your hands clasped behind his neck and him gripping your waist gently as you slowly ride him. Your hips are moving back and forth; each time you feel his cock graze your g-spot, you gasp against his lips. The two of you stare amorously into each other’s eyes.

In this moment, it feels like time has stood still. It's just the two of you, lost in each other's eyes and bodies. There's no need for words; everything is conveyed through the way you move against each other and the way you hold onto one another.

Changbin breaks the silence first, his voice low as he speaks. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips. 

You press your lips softly against his before asking. “When did you know?”

“Hmmm?” he says, in between his own gasps.

“When did you know you loved me?”

“From the moment I saw you.” He says quietly. “Spring semester, my sophomore year. I walked into the rec room at the frat house and there you were, sitting at the table tutoring one of my frat brothers. You were wearing purple jeans and your black, cropped Spiderman t-shirt and you laughed loudly at some stupid thing my frat bro had said before promptly putting him in his place with a smack to the back of his head. I sat on the couch for the next hour pretending to read my biology textbook while I watched you. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” 

You kissed him again then pulled back. “And you didn’t talk to me for months after that, until the night of that frat party?”

“I was too chicken shit to. I asked him about you after the tutoring session. He said you were a cool chick and an amazing tutor, but didn’t know if you were involved with anyone. I figured that someone as amazing as you probably had all sorts of guys chasing you, if you weren’t already in a relationship. I don’t know what came over me the night of the party. I guess I was just tired of waiting. How about you? When did you know?”

“I’ve known I loved you since our third date,” you whispered. 

“Astronomy night at the planetarium?” he asked with a smile.

“Yes.” You thought back to that night. As you both lay on the blanket, gazing up at the stars and talking about life, you knew he was different from anyone else you had ever dated. You’d never met anyone like him. And then he leaned over to kiss you, so sweet and gentle. When he sensed your hesitation after that first kiss, he reassured you that the pace of the relationship was entirely up to you, and he would never leave unless you wanted him to. “The way you reassured me… From that point on, I knew I was completely and irrevocably yours.”

You feel his strong hands slide up your back as he pulls you closer to him and your lips reconnect. You wrap your arms tightly around his neck and deepen the kiss even further, pouring all of your desire into it.

As you continue to ride him in the hot tub, the water creating a gentle ripple around you both, every touch becomes more electrifying than the last. You pick up the pace as you feel Changbin start to thrust upwards. The water starts to slosh around the two of you and the sound of the jets fades into the background. His lips move away from yours to explore your jawline and neck, leaving soft kisses and gentle nips along the way. Then his head dips lower so that he can lick and suck softly on one of your nipples, making you moan loudly. 

Changbin moves his hands to your ass and lets out a low growl against your skin before standing up suddenly. He carries you out of the tub effortlessly, then presses you against the glass door that separates the balcony from the room. He resumes thrusting up into you as your body slams against the door. You wrap your legs tightly around him to help secure yourself. 

The cool air from the balcony caresses your heated skin as Changbin relentlessly pounds into you. The contrasting temperatures only heighten the sensations, making every nerve ending in your body come alive. Your breaths are ragged as you cling to each other, bodies melded together.

Changbin's deep moans of pleasure reverberate through your bones, colliding with your own cries of ecstasy as you both approach the edge of climax together. You tilt your head back, pressing it into the glass, as Changbin kisses and sucks and bites on your neck. You smile at the thought of him adding more bruises to the collection that had already formed the day before, marking you as his. He clearly has a thing for biting. 

Changbin's hips slam into yours with a force that makes the glass door shake. His pace is relentless, as if he can’t get enough of you. His lips find yours again, his tongue delving deep into your mouth, mimicking the primal rhythm of his hips. His hands move back to your ass cheeks, squeezing them roughly as he grunts with each thrust.

"God, I love you," he groans against your lips, his voice ragged with desire. "Can't get enough of this ass, baby."

You grind your pelvis against his. The friction between your bodies creates a delicious friction against your clit. 

“Ah. Mmmm. Aaaah.” The little moans escape your lips, echoing throughout the balcony, as you feel the familiar build up. Suddenly the orgasm rips through you. “Oh my gawd,” you whisper into his mouth. 

Changbin fucks you furiously through your climax. With each hard thrust, he brings you even higher, until it feels like you're about to shatter apart again. When your second orgasm hits, your body turns to jelly. His fingers dig into your skin as he growls low in his throat, indicating that he’s finally close. 

His breathing is uneven, and his grip on your ass tightens as he buries himself to the hilt one last time before groaning out his own release. Every muscle in his body trembles with the force of his orgasm. He leans his forehead against yours, gasping for air, as your heartbeats start to slow down. “’Oh my gawd’ is right!” he whispers, causing you both to laugh breathlessly between gasps for air. 

After a few moments, he lifts you off the door and carries you back to the hot tub, gently lowering you both into the water. You cling to each other, bodies entwined, as the water swirls around you. The sun is starting to rise, casting a soft pink glow over the city skyline.

"I love you too," you whisper, kissing his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. "Never let go of me, okay?" you add, your voice quivering with emotion.

Changbin wraps his arms around your back. "Never," he whispers back, the passion in his voice undeniable. "I'll never let go of you, baby. I'm yours; all of me. Forever." 

Eventually, the two of you make it back to the bed and your last few hours pass in a blur of bliss interspersed with more sex, lazy cuddling, and napping. The reality of check-out hits you later that afternoon, and you’re both hesitant to leave. As you head back to campus, Changbin’s hand covering yours as he drives, a sense of fulfillment accompanies you. 

Back in your dorm room, you finally remember Chan’s text. 

You:

Everything was perfect. 

Thanks to you.

Your gratitude is genuine, for Chan played his part in your journey. But as you send the message, it's Changbin's face that fills your mind—the warmth of his embrace, the depth of his gaze. Right now, you're floating on cloud nine, replaying every magical moment with Changbin in your mind.

[aleeyenn]

TALK POST FOR THE FIRST TIME IN FOREVER!!! hi guys!!!

art has been So hard for the past few months… like way harder than ever… the only art i do is for school at this point :[ i barely even doodle!!! it makes me really sad……. i think a lot of it has to do with my mental state. keeping it reaaall i’m currently in one of the worst emotional points in my life and have been for a while but Ugh!.. it’s gonna be okay in the end… aside from that i think it’s also art class that’s made it all so hard …

for those who don’t know, i’ve been in special art schools since 6th grade, like, schools you have to audition to be in… it’s been great!!! i love(d) meeting likeminded people and being able to relate to each other in a bunch of different ways!! i’ve made SO many friends and so many good memories!!! i’m now in my senior year of high school, half way through… it’s the final stretch for realsies! and i’m reflecting on how the art programs have made me feel about art….

there are SO many benefits that came with the programs minus meeting new people… my art wouldn’t be at the point it is at now without the lessons and expertise and critiques i’ve received from my teachers. i’m grateful i was even accepted into those classes in the first place!!!!!

the main gripe i have with everything tho is how CRAZY it kills your creative flow and enjoyment for art in general… i don’t necessarily blame my teachers, they’re just doing what they’re taught! but i feel like what they’re teaching is wrong in lots of ways…

they put mindsets on students that just… don’t make sense? “art block isn’t real! just draw!” art block isnt just not being able to draw… “every piece you make should be better than your last!” you shouldn’t have to constantly try to one-up yourself!

it’s just all these standards left and right that you have to meet to “be successful” and for your art to be “good”. all of my art classmates and even from the grades below me agree that it’s certainly not the best!!! i can see why everything is the way it is, it’s for improvement and building skill, but i think it’s more damaging than helpful…

i’m SO nitpicky about my art. it’s hard for me to feel proud of things anymore because there’s Always something wrong with what i’m doing… and the way you have to compare yourself and your creations to other people as a grade to begin with is UGH! it’s just teaching students to be SO hard on themselves when art is literally just creating something!!!

the way your art looks shouldn’t determine your value, success, or even worth. art should be FUN!!! it’s a visual extension of yourself. it’s meant to be created with any intention in mind… it’s a reflection of YOU. it’s YOUR unique touch… it shouldn’t have to fit in any criteria!!! you should do what makes you happy!!!

art school can be a blessing but also such a buzzkill… i enjoyed it a lot but it also broke a part of me and it’s really unfortunate… i hope one day i will be able to reverse all those mindsets and relearn my love for drawing. i miss it so so so much…

my lesson to you guys is to not stop… do what makes YOU happy. don’t do things just to look good to others, try to impress YOURSELF. or don’t! just create! because your art is YOU. treat it nicely and don’t ever lose it!!! you can do ANYTHING! you can MAKE anything! if you really think about it, everything’s possible!!!

i think i would word everything better if i was on a stage with a microphone… i think i missed a lot of points too but i hope you all can get the gist of my perspective…

all i know is that i’m not going to be doing any professional art stuff in the future… it suits me better as a hobby!!! i want to be a nurse instead!

no more art school ranting… despite my poor mental health right now, things haven’t been all that bad!!! i hang out with my friends a lot and that’s made everything so much better! i love my friends!!! i love playing games with them and talking with them and going places with them SOOO MUCH!i also have a super amazing partner now too!!!!! they’re the best partner i could ever ask for!!! fun fact, over summer they watched bfdi to get closer with me when we went back to school ISNT THAT SO SWEET AAHHH also our nails are currently painted fireafy colors!!! we are matching!!! so cute… i appreciate them indulging me whenever they can HEHEHEHEEE

anyways i think i’m done talking now…. i’ve said my piece! i haven’t been active for a while So this is catch up time!!! ok bye!!! do something that makes you happy today!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! or tonight!!!!!!!! or afternoon!!!!!!!!!!

[itsgrimeytime]

I don't know if y'all know how extensive my GIF searches are for my fanfics.

I will comb through different phrases for hours-

(I've found 'rick grimes beard' and 'rick grimes grin' have some QUALITY works. For my fellow rick girlies.)

[dykedvonte]

@gecko-in-a-can THIS ABSOLUTELY

Resentment is such a big part of Benny’s motives towards House, feeling he’s underserving to rule and shouldn’t have the right to keep the title of Vegas just because he claimed it first long ago. Say what you will, Benny puts the effort in, through honest and dishonest work albeit, but he puts in the effort. Not saying House didn’t but House had the luxury of having a lot of that effort done before the war and subordinates to do so after. House is untouchable, something everyone wants in the Mojave, if not for the power, but because of the security. House takes that for granted seeing how easy he thinks it is to buy people. Benny, a Mojave native, has to be irate about that seeing how he has seen the heights and slums of both lives.

Also with the AIs it’s so telling because in a lot of ways, Yes Man has more autonomy than House’s major personality securitrons. Yeah, Yes Man has to be helpful but he’s aware and able to be snarky and coy. Benny has an issue with not being listened to but that’s the only perimeter Yes Man needs to act on. He can’t condescend but lord you can tell when he wants to. House’s AIs serves specific and highly detailed functions but are confined to act in accordance. They are subservient to a T and are extensions of House while Yes Man really is a creation that adapts further, hence his desire for the assertive upgrade. Benny made something, or at least was okay with a helper, that can progress for itself. House made things that replicate or facilitate an era of the past and don’t hold the power to contest it.

[aces-to-apples]

Frankly I think Alistair being mildly shitty to that mage in Ostagar seems pretty in-character for the guy he is before the massive, life-altering trauma that is the Ostagar massacre wherein he sees all of his Grey Warden comrades, his beloved mentor/father figure, and his beloathed half-brother/convenient-target-of-projection absolutely torn to shreds by literal Thedas boogeymen. IIRC Morrigan and Flemeth both comment on his wack behavior after Ostagar and then by the time we get to Lothering Alistair just fully surrenders any and all responsibility (and, frankly, agency) to the player's Warden for the foreseeable future. It can then take anywhere from a couple IRL hours to the entire second act of the game for him to retake almost any amount of it back. And depending on the player's choices in dialogue, and especially whether or not they choose to romance him, we may only see flashes of that guy we met at Ostagar before he potentially morphs into almost someone else entirely (hardened!King!Alistair). All that to say, I don't actually think it's a useful criticism of "characterization" to bring up Alistair's glibness as compared to his behavior in the majority of the game because from where I'm standing (looking directly at his snottiness about Cailan, his complaints about being assigned to the Tower of Ishal, his Templar-esque focusing on Morrigan and Flemeth being apostates, his generally pretty brusque manner with the Warden recruits) it seems fairly in-line with the rest of his behavior at Ostagar.

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[things-methinks]

Talking to [leftist/socialist/progressive/whatever] white people as a brown girl is always an experience

[roobylavender]

(Really long ask ahead i’m sorry!) I think your thoughts on dick and his similarities vs differences to bruce are so interesting! Personally i’m wondering how much of NTT played an influence on this kind of characterization bc i’ve never fully finished ntt but i read like nearly all the pre-80s batman 1940 issues lol and dick very much was portrayed as more idealistic than bruce in some ways while more no-nonsense (? For lack of better word) in other ways, like when it comes to batman easing up a little on selina for romance reasons LOL. Though ofc dick totally turns into - well, a dick - in team books, as i grow older i find myself far more compelled by a potential story of an 18 yr old who seemed to have the whole weight of the world on his shoulders (by his own perception) and breaking under his own impractically strong sense of duty and sky-high expectations for others, then realizing as he grows older that it doesn’t have to be that way esp after seeing the perspectives of characters like kory, wally, joey, roy, etc. Like personally as someone who never really had a huge interest in NTT anyway, i’m surprised at how desperately people want to hold on to the characterization of dick when he was 18-19 and never letting him grow past that, like it’s so difficult for me to believe that at age 25 he would be the same uptight controlling kid that he was at 19. Maybe i’m biased though bc i was like one of those insufferable INTJ internet stereotypes as a teenager, and while that worldview did bring me achievements i’m proud of like the fact that i’m in med school rn studying what i love, i still know that at age 22 i have changed SO much from when i was 18 and i can’t imagine any reasonably mature or normally-functioning person (let alone someone high-functioning like dick) not doing the same lol. Especially since dick is the kind of person who would literally die if he’s not constantly growing and evolving past his faults bc of his insufferable perfectionism, idk how he’d be willfully blind to the negative effects of his worldview in early NTT and refuse to grow from there. He even has a quote that’s like “i’ve spent years as a student of my own behavior” which i always found highly encouraging bc i know he really does want to improve himself even at his worst. It reminds me of that Marcus Aurelius quote: “if someone can prove me wrong and show me my mistake in any thought or action, i shall gladly change. I seek the truth, which never harmed anyone; the harm is to persist in one’s own self-deception and ignorance.” But what are your thoughts? (Thank you for reading all this 🥹)

oh i absolutely agree! i cannot tell you how many times i think about the person i was a couple years ago and who i am now like i cringe so much omg.. maturity is an ever persistent process even if we don't recognize its effects immediately and it absolutely is crazy to think that anyone would remain in such a static state of mind for several years on end. esp when like you said dick is someone who wants to be better! so despite his several hypocrisies it is nonetheless in his best interests to look internally and analyze and evolve. and i feel like that very much could have happened had there been any actual segue between dick's breakup with kory and his re-entry into the batfam. i don't think there was much of a connection between these two sets of writers at all and so what you got is what felt like two very distinct parts of dick's life that didn't necessarily reveal a bridge point. so it's not entirely unrealistic that dick may grow to be the person (at least to some extent) that bat canon portrayed him to be in the years that followed but i certainly think as it stands it felt unearned and like all of his issues explored in ntt were conveniently swept to the side without any semblance of closure (albeit i do think some of these issues are addressed in outsiders '03 but in that dickheaded way that winick explores things generally. so i'm not sure it's the kind of closure people actually want). it's very sad and ig that's what people cling to more than anything. it's not that they're opposed to him growing to be a better person but that they're opposed to a version of dick who feels like he sprung out of nothing

[coyoxxtl]

“THE ZODIAC HAS CHANGEd” babygirl no it didn’t i beg u to look up the difference between tropical and vedic astrology

[hjemne]

Long rant. If my housemate turns up strangled then you're not allowed to use this in court against me or whatever. My genuine opinion is that this guy needs amphetamines and financial hardship, and he's not going to bother getting better without that

Housemate has 6 exams to pass, then one more year of university. Housemate has taken 2 years out already. Housemate goes to Very Prestigious University who very rarely lets people take 2 years out to begin with.

Housemate moves in mid-April. Literally does not leave the house for over a month. Lives off deliveroo. Does negative amounts of housework. Comes out to shower twice a day for 30+ mins with boiling hot water. Otherwise is in his room 23/7. Turned down all offers to socialise 'until after exams' starting two months before exams.

Housemate does not go to revision classes. Housemate does not go to lectures. Housemate does not do anything.

Day before first exam, housemate realises he misread his exam timetable. He has not prepared for the exam the next day. This is somehow not his fault. Housemate decides to take a third year out. Housemate misses the first exam. Housemate's father flies across the world to support him.

Housemate schedules a meeting to discuss taking a third year out. The meeting is at the same time as his second exam. Housemate misses his second exam. Very Prestigious University decides he cannot take a third year out. Housemate thinks this is unfair, because one person in the past was allowed to take three years out. Housemate does not appreciate how exceptional it is to be allowed to take even two years out. Very Prestigious University gives him a very generous compromise of averaging his mark for the final four exams, ignoring the two he missed. Housemate does not appreciate how exceptional this offer is.

Housemate has 6 days between the meeting and his first (third) exam. Housemates sister flies across the world to support him. Housemate decides the day before his first (third) exam that he is dropping out. Housemate immediately gives up at the second first sign of trouble. Housemate wants to change to a different course but stay at the Very Prestigious University. Housemate is fucking deluded about his reality.

Meanwhile, I have sat 6 exams in 8 days at the same Very Prestigious University, representing over 60% of my final grade for my entire 4 year degree.

Housemate has ADHD and depression. I have ADHD and depression. Housemate faced close family bereavement last year. I faced close family bereavement two months ago. Housemate is sad because 5 years ago he was 'falsely accused of rape' and lost friends. I was raped by my domestic partner last year and could only start processing it a few months ago when my housing no longer depended on staying with my rapist. Housemate thinks he has suffered more than Jesus on the cross and so should get special exemptions to university rules (he also thinks he should get his third year off because he misread the single paragraph rule around taking time off). Housemate doesn't seem to consider that other people also have things going on in their lives, but which they have to push through and deal with by actively engaging in the support available instead of months-long self-imposed isolation. Housemate told the university staff who have been helping him that it's the university's problem if so many people are struggling. Which may be true but is a bold fucking move from the guy who has done nothing for multiple years and then expects the university staff to bail him out last minute and do what he wants them to do.

Housemate is also a terrible housemate. Housemate continues to misgender NB housemate. Housemate owes NB housemate hundreds in unpaid bills that he forgets about. Housemate got me alone in his room at 2am and tried to kiss me despite me giving zero indication that I in any way wanted that. Housemate does not do the very very simplest of household tasks despite multiple verbal, texted and printed reminders. Housemate leaves blood (from acne) in the bathroom for others to clean up. Housemate is so goddamn useless and willfully, deliberately ignorant that he doesn't bother trying to unload the dishwasher "because he doesn't know where plates go" my brother in Christ you have spent four months in this house and it is a tiny fucking house!!!!!!! Use your eyeballs you obtuse motherfucker!!!! do you not have a shred of curiosity or independence?? Is there truly nothing going on upstairs?? It's not even that he needs everything spelled out for him, because no matter how many reminders he gets, he still doesn't do it. He needs everything done for him. He doesn't even get his groceries from the shop 5 mins away bc he gets everything delivered. He is 23. He has actively and deliberately cut himself off from others, and then moans about not having a 'proper university experience'. He genuinely seems to believe in his own self-importance, genuinely seems to believe that rules should bend around whatever he wants to happen. He thinks he's the world's specialest and most persecuted little guy when he's really just an incompetent man who cannot function without being coddled by mummy or without being bankrolled by daddy, who is driving himself further into his mental health spiral by refusing to face up to responsibility or reality or consequences. And he can afford to do this because his family are extremely wealthy, so he can always find an escape from doing anything even slightly hard. Because family money gives him the ability to do nothing at all! And so he wont! Because he's not even attempting to manage his ADHD, and so he will always procrastinate until the last minute, then use his money to wiggle out of it anyway. It's destroying him!! And he's destroying my sanity!

I'm going to start tearing him limb from limb with my teeth.

Only positive is that I now look incredible in comparison. Doesn't matter what grade I graduate with, because I at least will graduate