#but like: they just see me making poor academic decisions because this is the only way i function

[saltyfilmmajor]

Spent most of my week avoiding doing my legal memo final project, and the draft is due at midnight. Will i learn from this mistake: no

[shycloudkitty]

You're too sweet for a monster like me

Summary : Leon's drowning his pain and suffering with whiskey. But you might be his true salvation.

Pairing : Vendetta Leon! × Fem Reader (A little bit of pre vendetta)

Tags : Established relationship, self deprecating talk (Leon does with himself), mostly angst with little comfort. (But it's there) and alcoholism

A/N: Update on why I disappeared for a while. It's because things got rocky with my academics and I recently broke up :( But not to worry I'm not gonna let a little heartbreak set me back.

And for this fic I'm thinking it to be a little pre vendetta Leon, like the incidents that led to him having depression in Vendetta.

It's gonna a be short fic, may or may not write a part 2 about this. Let me know!

WC: 1.6K

Sound of whiskey getting poured in a glass fills the emptiness of the living room he was in. After all this was all he could do, the only thing he had control in his poor pathetic life.

One mission after another after another. Leon was getting tired after endless fights with the B.O.Ws, corrupt governments in countless countries that were ‘speculated’ to have a new damned virus or a bioweapon war waiting to happen.

And every damn time he was supposed to deal with it, he was supposed to do the government’s dirty work for them, he was supposed to fight every goddamned ugly creature created by the worst of mankind, he had to carry out every gut wrenching decision that government instructed him to do, everytime he was the last man standing and he was never gonna get out of this cycle.

Yes, that's right. He was just a little puppet for the government that was supposed to fight B.O.Ws for them. Someone who was blackmailed into this life and do their bidding, by of course the government.

At first, he tried to take it positively and thought of how many people he could save like he always wanted to and at such a large scale. Something he was extremely passionate about since he was a kid… saving people's lives, protecting them. That's why he wanted to be a cop and now that he was a government ‘special’ agent he would be able to do more.

But he definitely didn't expect the destruction those missions would cause on his own self too, taking every piece of his humanity, every last hope he seemed to have, gone & extinguished in the flames of every bioweapon war he was called in. He definitely didn't expect and could never have anticipated what he was getting thrown into.

When will this cycle end?

A question he thought every second of his life but never had the answer. Forced to play hero each time and with no real win, fighting was like choosing between the lesser of two evils.

He was just a weapon, just a pawn that the government moved each time when they wanted to achieve something. And why would a pawn's life matter in the grand scheme of things? A pawn was created just to be shot down. And that's what he was.

While he was lost in thoughts and his whiskey all alone. He almost missed the soft voice whispering his name, such a gentle voice calling out to him. Feeling a soft hand on his back, trying to get his attention. He turned back to see who it was… and there was the reason. You.

Soft eyes looking at him with a sympathetic smile asking him how he was or that he had eaten anything today?

Leon slowly shook his head to get out of the fog clouding his brain and blinked a few times to focus on you.

Leon's words slurred as he spoke “What?”

“I asked how are you doing today?” Your soft words of concern clearing his brain fog better, making him aware of his surroundings and himself.

Leon blinks once more and looks down at his whiskey and then back at you. “... Better than yesterday.” A lie, he was the same as yesterday.

He could see her lips twitch in a small smile as she sat down besides him on the couch and said. “You're a terrible liar when drunk…”

Leon managed a soft huff at her reply. It almost weirded him out that you could see through him, but he guessed that's what happens when you have someone who cares for you. Leon looked away, sighing deeply and replied. “I'm just tired…”

Leon heard a soft sigh, feeling the soft couch dip a bit as she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and gently held his hand. “Leon… I'm always here for you, you know that right? I may not be able to give solid advice to you, but I'm a good listener.”

You could feel him relax under your touch a bit and saw him look your way from the corner of his way, still not facing you. “...I know.”

“So, you know I'm also worried about you?”

Leon winces at that, the last thing he wanted was you to worry about his pathetic self. You already have done so much for him just staying by his side through all this. Hell, you were an angel just for putting up with him and actually loving him. You weren't supposed to be worried about him and you definitely weren't supposed to fall in love with him.

Leon clears his throat and shifts a little bit away from you although he didn't let go of your hand and says. “I…It's nothing.”

You couldn't help but frown at how closed off he was being for the last few days, you understand that his last mission was rough although he never went into details about his missions with you. And you knew he needed space to process all of it but you hated the way he was ‘processing’ his loss. Drinking, lost in thoughts and closing off when you tried to get close. It was hard for both of you.

You slowly shifted towards him again, getting close to him once again. Gently taking the whiskey glass from his hands and moving it away from him. “Leon…”

He looks back at you and he looks…lost. A raging storm of emotions present in those pretty blue eyes of his that you loved so much. “I know it's hard Leon and I'm happy to give you space to think but the way you're doing it… is making me worried.”

You took a deep breath and continued. “Is there anything I can do to help? I can't… see you like this.”

He closes his eyes and deeply sighs once more, years of weariness and defeat visible on his face. He shakes his head and whispers. “You're not supposed to worry about me…”

Leon feels soft hands cup his face gently as she replies. “Can't help it. It sorta happens when you care.”

Leon opens his eyes to see you staring at him with a soft warm smile, your faces close. He presses his forehead against yours for a while trying to calm his anxious thoughts. He then pulls you closer by your waist, pulling you in a hug and burying his face in your neck and taking a deep breath. Your scent filling his senses and offering some peace that he needed to ground himself.

He often wondered what he did to deserve you? Did God or whatever the power universe has, take pity on him and decide to gift him an angel? You were always so sweet, so gentle with him, loving, caring, understanding. You were his sunshine and he couldn't look away. All he could do was soak up in the warmth that you always seemed to radiate everywhere you stepped.

You were perfect and it scared the hell out of him.

He was scared that one day you will see the monster he actually was. That one day you will wake up and see him for who he was, the things he had to do to make a living and think what a disgusting monster he was, what he truly was… not some ‘Hero’ or the ‘Golden boy’, just some monster and a weapon crafted to perfection to destroy the undead. And he hopes that day never comes.

He continues to hug you tightly to himself, his face buried in your neck as he takes deep breaths to calm himself. He then softly whispered. “You smell…like daffodils.”

The sudden comment made you chuckle a bit and kissed his cheek, hugging him tightly. “Yeah, I bought a new perfume today, didn't think you would notice. Does it smell bad?”

“... No, it smells good. It suits you.” And sighed deeply. He then whispered. “You're too sweet for me. Don't know what you see in me.”

You turned to face him and kissed his cheek. “don't say that… I see that you're a hard working, resilient person who keeps going even when the odds are stacked up against him. Whatever it is that you're going through… you can pass through it.”

He turned his head to face you, his expression softening into something more vulnerable as you say that. Clearly touched by your words. Feeling a lump rise in his throat as he closes his eyes once more and exhales shakily.

You were so…innocent. You had no idea what was going on in his head or what actually he turned into. You also had no idea about the vicious but repetitive cycle he was in.

Opening up about this life of his…would ruin such a sweet and innocent thing like you, he was sure of that. He knew you weren't a kid or anything or that you never faced hardships in your life. But this…he can't tell you about what he faces out there, what kind of ugliness his line of work shows him everyday, the dark side of humanity.

He can't taint the only ray of sunshine he ever found in his life.

You look up at him with that sweet dazzling smile, thinking he was someone ‘great’. But reality couldn't be farther from the truth.

Hello everyone! Long time no see, I'm sorry for my disappearance. I promise I will try to be regular now, I know this was short I will probably try to make a part 2? Idk but this was mostly written for my creativity to start flowing again. If you liked it please like it and reblog. I would be very grateful 😊

Fun fact: Daffodils are a sign of hope!

Thank you for reading this, hope you have a good day!

-Bella

[en-topia]

LOVE FOOL — CHAPTER NINETEEN

word count: 3696

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It was finally sports day. The day of sports. The day you dreaded the most out of any day of the entire year—more than finals week (but maybe that was only because you were academically smart).

Thanks to Yizhuo, your hair was done into two low pigtails to keep your hair back. You always complained how horrible you looked in a high ponytail and refused to keep your hair down during this event, so your friend, who is amazing with fashion and beauty, helped you out.

“You look cute!” She exclaimed as you stared in the mirror in disbelief.

“I look like a child.”

“Get over it. It’s cute. And you’re cute.” She winked at you as she put on her jacket.

The whole school was wearing either white or burgundy tracksuits (school colors) for sports day, and you happened to get burgundy while Yizhuo got white. Apparently it was Freshman and Juniors with white, and Sophomores and Seniors in burgundy.

You were already in your track suit, and it wasn’t the most flattering in your eyes. Your sleeves covered your hands, which was the only thing you liked about it. In all honesty, you didn’t even look bad, but you just made yourself believe that.

As you made your way to your class, you saw some students from the other class joining yours. You all had to wear the same color arms bands to distinguish teams, and of course you guys got bright pink. This color scheme was not fitting your taste nor did they even go together.

Heeseung saw you enter and quickly came over to give you an armband.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the arm band from him and going to find Jiung.

The poor boy was left hanging. He was hoping to have some conversation with you before the relay race, but you just walked away. Heeseung didn’t want to think too much into it, so he tried to forget it. But when he saw you walk up to Jiung and Taeyang, he started to doubt himself.

“Don’t tell me this color was you’re doing too,” you said to Jiung.

“I thought you liked pink?” He questioned, nervous at your calm attitude.

“I do. But with this combo? What were you thinking!”

“Well, sorry, president. Maybe you should’ve helped and got them instead!”

“I was busy.”

“With?”

“None of your business.”

Jiung laughed as you crossed your arms. “Okay, kid.” He poked your cheek and flicked your right pigtail before leaving to give out more armbands.

You were about to start arguing with him again, but stopped when he rushed away. “Can you believe him?!” You asked to Taeyang who only chuckled lightly. “I don’t look like a kid do I?”

“Of course not…” He tried to contain his laughter, but of course you noticed.

You scoffed. “Why do I even call you guys my friends.”

Heeseung never pulled his eyes away from you ever since you left. He couldn’t help but doubt himself as you conversed with your friends. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous of Jiung, but he was. It wasn’t flirting for the two of you, but it looked like it to Heeseung. And it didn’t help with the way Taeyang was looking at you; and everyone knew how you two were together.

Heeseung wanted to be in their place badly.

After your class, as well as Heeseung’s class, gathered and got armbands, you all headed to the track to prepare for the race. You weren’t there for signups because you were helping with the set up in the gym, so you hoped you were on a good team; and by good team, you meant Heeseung’s team.

“If you don’t know your teams, the paper will be at our table!” Jiung shouted for everyone to hear.

You rushed over to the table, scanning the sheet for your name, but you found Heeseung’s first instead.

Moon Chaeyoung

Lee Heeseung

Yoon Keeho

Kim Minjeong

Your face dropped as you read it again another 3 times to make sure you were seeing it right. You shouldn’t be disappointed since you weren’t there to make decisions, but you were; you were hoping that he’d write your name down beside his after it seemed like he wanted to be on your team. But, it was over now.

Choi Taeyang

Ln Yn

Choi Jiung

Park Soo Ah

At least you had your friends. That’s all that matters. Besides, it’s just a race. It’s not like it’s going to determine your entire fate with Heeseung.

You made your way over to your group, sneaking a glance over at Heeseung’s. As always, he and Minjeong hit it off so perfectly. They should just be together. It annoyed you to death, but even you couldn’t deny that they looked good together.

“You ready?” Taeyang asked you, seeing how uneasy you looked.

You nodded. “Yeah..”

Your group would be racing after Heeseung’s, so you sat with your team, cheering them on. The race was going smooth at first, Keeho ran gracefully, but Taeyang and Jiung thought it was the most funniest thing in the world— watching him run was entertainment to them.

Minjeong went after Keeho, and she was pretty fast. However, just as she was about to pass the baton to Heeseung, she tripped over herself and was about to fall. Luckily for her, Heeseung was there to catch her, and she fell right into his arms. You could see them mumbling words to each other, and you could hear people around you giggling and whistling at Heeseung. You looked away from the race and down at the floor.

“I’m gonna go get water,” you announced.

“Water before a race isn’t good!” Taeyang tried to stop you from leaving.

“It’s just a little water.”

“Yn, do you want to throw up after you run?”

You stared down at your friend, finding him really annoying right now because all you wanted to do was leave. You were missing Heeseung run, and you didn’t want to be there for when he and Minjeong do a congratulatory hug.

“And who’s to say you won’t ditch us?” Jiung teased, pulling you down next to him. “Just ignore them,” he whispered that part to you so no one else heard. You knew exactly what he was talking about, and you were glad that he noticed.

After Heeseung’s lap, Minjeong tried jumping on him for a hug, but he quickly backed away and looked over to you to see if you were watching him. But you weren’t. You were looking down at the floor, kicking rocks to distract yourself from him. He was upset that you weren’t watching, and now he just thought that maybe you didn’t like him anymore.

Your team and his team switched places. Keeho threatened you guys to do well or else he would “do bad things” to you guys later, but everyone only rolled their eyes at his threat. You, however, didn’t acknowledge the team at all. If you did, you would have to face Heeseung and Minjeong together, and that’s not something you were up for.

You were second in the race just like Minjeong, which meant your times were going to be compared. All this comparison with Minjeong made you want to cry. You wanted to give up and let her win it all— to win the race, to win over Heeseung. You knew it was wrong to feel this way over your friend, but you couldn’t help how you felt.

After you ran and passed the baton to Jiung, you stood beside Taeyang and held onto his arm. His comfort was what you needed right now, and you really were trying hard to ignore those intrusive thoughts. Taeyang let you hold his arm; it’s not like it was anything abnormal.

Over at the steps where all the teams were waiting, Keeho felt the tension waving off of Heeseung. He side eyed the guy and saw him clenching his jaw. Then Keeho fully looked over at him.

“You okay?” He asked nervously.

“Fine.” Heeseung’s answer was quick and dry and Keeho tried to fight back a smile. He had a feeling on why Heeseung was getting upset, and he was going to tell you all about it later.

The race was finally over, and after adding up all the times, your class came in second. Despite not falling over like Minjeong, you still lost to her and her team. It upset you honestly, and it was stupid to you yet you were still annoyed.

You went back to class, taking off your sweater and tossing it onto your desk. You sat down and rested your head on top of your jacket, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Everyone thought you were going to the restroom, so no one bothered to follow you, luckily. You needed time to yourself to think about everything.

In all honesty, you just wanted everything to go back to the way things were before this school year started. You wished Heeseung never came back into your life and you wished Minjeong said something about him before you did. Maybe then you wouldn’t be feeling this way.

After taking some time to yourself, you headed to the gym which was where your next class sport was. It was couples yoga, and you didn’t want to participate. Balance was something you were never really good at, and it would only be frustrating for your partner.

When you entered the gym, you saw a bunch of boys surrounding Minjeong. It was probably because she was tiny and would be easy to lift, whereas you were nothing like her.

“Yn!” Someone shouted ahead of you, grabbing your attention.

Heeseung was jogging over to you, and you tried going to opposite direction to avoid him. This was the last thing you wanted.

“Can you be my partner?” He asked, making sure to stop you before anyone else could ask you.

You stared up at him blankly. Then looked over to Minjeong who seemed to be fawning over all the boys asking her. “Yeah. I can.”

“Great!” He had this wide smile on his face that made your heart flutter. And suddenly you were calming down just because of his smile and excitement to be your partner.

Heeseung made sure to grab your hand, letting everyone know he had a partner and that it was you. Jiung and Keeho were making googly eyes at you, but you ignored them because all that mattered was that Heeseung was actually holding your hand.

“I’m not that good at balancing,” you told him as he sat on the cushioned mat.

“That’s okay,” he smiled, grabbing your hands again to pull you down with him. “Just relax and I’ll help you.”

You nodded, feeling more assured being with him. Heeseung holding your hand and grabbing you to sit so closely with him brought butterflies to your stomach, and you hoped the blush on your face wasn’t evident.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all day,” he confessed, looking down beside him at you. You met eyes with him, which made you nervous so you looked away.

“I didn’t know that…”

“Yeah… You seemed to be really busy, so I didn’t have a chance.”

“Did you need something?”

“Nope!” He smiled down at you again. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

You felt like you were going to faint. How can he say something like that so shamelessly. Clearing your throat, you nodded and scooted away from him.

Now that you were sitting in front of him, you began to stretch to prepare for the yoga you two would be doing while also trying to calm down your heart that was beating 2 times too fast. Heeseung didn’t pay any mind to it, and you didn’t expect him too since you were just stretching, but you did notice his gaze falling somewhere else.

On the other side of the gym was Yunjin. She was partnered with Keeho for this sport, and they seemed to be getting along really well. Considering they were both English speakers, they clicked instantly.

You frowned slightly, noticing Heeseung couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Maybe you were too quick to assume he felt anything for you; he was probably being friendly and you were thinking too much in it.

“Do you miss her?” You suddenly asked, sitting criss crossed and facing Heeseung.

“Hmm?” He hummed, looking back in your direction. You weren’t sure if he didn’t hear or if he was asking for clarification, but either way, you didn’t get your answer because the teacher announced for everyone to get into positions.

Your mood instantly went down, but you were good at hiding it. And since you and Heeseung weren’t necessarily close, there was no way he’d be able to notice.

Heeseung laid flat on his back as you stood up. He held up his hands for you to grab, and lifted you up in the air on his feet. The pressure hurt your abdomen, but you weren’t going to tap out so soon and make him lose. Heeseung, however, looked at ease as if this was the most easy thing for him.

“What were you saying earlier?” He asked you, but you didn’t want to talk for a multitude of reasons. One being because the pressure on your abdomen wouldn’t allow it, and two because you were too upset at him.

“It was nothing,” you answered shortly.

However, Heeseung knew exactly what you said earlier; he just wanted to know if he heard you correctly. You weren’t wrong with your assumptions; Heeseung was looking at Yunjin earlier, but he wasn’t about to tell you that.

You surprisingly held up for longer than you expected. It was mostly thanks to Heeseung for holding you up, but you were shocked that your poor balance didn’t make you lose.

“We’re down to the two finalist!” Mrs. Choi spoke through the microphone. “Yoon Keeho with Huh Yunjin, and Lee Heeseung with Ln Yn.”

This obviously made Heeseung very flustered considering his legs almost gave out. You weren’t super heavy; light enough for Heeseung to hold you, but feeling his legs shaking beneath you made you feel bad. You looked up to find Keeho, and it didn’t look like he and Yunjin were backing down any time soon.

“You can let me down if it’s too much for you,” you said to Heeseung, but he shook his head.

“I got it,” he replied back.

You shut your eyes to hold back the deep sigh that you wanted to let out. Something was bothering Heeseung whether it was your weight on his legs or Yunjin and Keeho beating you guys, and you just wanted this to be over with.

You looked down at Heeseung. His eyes were closed and he was sweating, obviously conflicted with whatever was on his mind. Letting out a small sigh, you let go of his hands which woke him back up. You knew what this would’ve done, and you lost your balance. Heeseung quickly grabbed your shoulders and dropped you down lightly on him.

“And Keeho and Yunjin win!!” Mrs. Choi shouted. Everyone went to the two to congratulate them, but you and Heeseung stayed in this position for just a moment longer. The tension was very obvious between you two, and it made your heart skip a beat. Your body was touching his body. Close proximity. Faces nearly inches apart.

“Yn!” Jiung shouted, making you get off of Heeseung. “Why did you let go!”

You quickly stood up and walked over to your friend, leaving behind Heeseung who was watching you leave with a frown.

“My hands were getting sweaty,” you lied, walking further and further away from the boy.

Heeseung was disappointed in himself. He could’ve held you up longer, but you let go of him. You let go and he didn’t know why. Yes both of your hands were getting sweaty, but that was no excuse. It didn’t help with the fact that you left him behind so quickly. Heeseung didn’t know what to think.

“That was so freaking awkward,” you huffed out as you and Jiung sat on the bleachers.

“Why? Wasn’t it exciting!” He teased you by shoving your arm, but you just rolled your eyes playfully in response.

“He asked me to be his partner and then starts staring at Yunjin with these eyes… like… like he still likes her or something.” You dropped your head down. Even though you tried to play it off, you couldn’t deny being upset. “I think I was overthinking Heeseung’s actions towards me.”

“I don’t think you’re overthinking.” Jiung faced you, suddenly feeling the seriousness of the atmosphere. “What guy would fight some rando if he didn’t like you?”

“Well I would hope that my friends would,” you exaggerated, clearly indicating that Keeho or Jiung or even Taeyang should’ve done something about it. “But since no one was defending me then it’s the only right thing to do as a friend.”

“And what about his friends oddly suspicious tweets in response to whatever’s on his private?”

“I don’t know! That’s none of my business and I don’t want to get into that. Besides, it was all probably about Yunjin.”

Jiung sighed. “What if you just told him how you felt?”

“And get humiliated? Yeah, no thanks.”

“You never know! He could like you back, you know…”

“And what I know is that he doesn’t like me like that. He was staring at Yunjin with these longing eyes and if you saw it then you’d agree with me.”

“Well they’re not dating anymore… Maybe you could change his mind?”

“Maybe… or maybe I’ll just ignore it. I don’t have time for a boyfriend right now anyways.”

Every time you decided that you wanted to get over your feelings for Heeseung, he decided to do something to change it without knowing. For instance, after the race, he came up to you asking to be partners and says things that makes your heart beat too fast. And now he was approaching you again as you were making your way back to class.

You were in the process of taking out your pigtails, and he came up from behind you. He tapped your shoulder to get your attention as you walked, and you greeted him with a smile.

“Why’d you take them out?” He asked curiously, watching you shove the rubber bands in your pocket and fluffing out your hair.

“I look like a kid.”

“I thought they were cute.”

There he goes again saying things so shamelessly. Does he even know how this is affecting you?

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you laughed awkwardly.

Heeseung looked down at you, admiring you during this time because he wouldn’t be able to do it any other time. He liked how much you guys were able to hang out today, although he did wish you didn’t run away every time after you exchanged a few words.

“Do you want to grab something to eat at the food court?” He asked after hesitating for a bit. There were some classes hosting cafes and food joints for the break between sports, and this was a good time for him to ask.

Heeseung told himself that if you said no to this, then he’d give up and assume you’re just not interested in him.

But luckily for him… “Yeah,” you said surprisingly which made his chest fall from relief. “Let me just go get my jacket from class first.”

“No need,” he said quickly, taking this opportunity to be a gentleman. Heeseung took off his jacket and held it out for you to put your arms through. You gladly accepted and laughed a little at the size comparison. “Now you’ll be warmer.”

“Actually— all the extra space allows for more air to flow through which means more of the cold air is passing through. So really I—“

“Just shush,” he said teasingly with a smile, placing a finger on your lips to quiet you. Your cheeks instantly blushed and you fell silent, nodding at what he said and walking with him to the food court.

You and Heeseung grabbed grilled cheese sandwiches and sat at the cafe in class 3 to enjoy your meal. It was too cold outside to eat, and Heeseung knew better and led you to Jake’s class who was hosting the cafe.

Obviously since this was Jake’s class, he as well as all his friends were in there. They all stood behind the counter watching you and Heeseung converse and eat, laughing about who knows what.

“They got close pretty fast,” Jay pointed out.

“Right. Considering they’re not even in the same class,” said Sunghoon.

Jake only rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe Heeseung was here right now eating lunch with you and letting you wear his jacket. He could’ve sworn that Heeseung said he didn’t have any feelings for you whatsoever, so what the hell was he doing here being all flirty with you?

“It’s my turn to rotate,” Jake suddenly said, taking off the apron and grabbing his track jacket.

“Already?” Jay questioned. “Good luck in the race!”

“Yeah, thanks.” Jake’s attitude was super dismissive and his friends noticed.

“Hey, Jake!” You exclaimed, getting his attention before he got to leave. “Where you going?”

“It’s my turn to run in the race,” he said dryly.

“Aw… Good luck! I’m rooting for you!”

Jake couldn’t help but smile at how cute you looked, shooting him a thumbs up and letting him leave for his race. Heeseung looked over at Jake, suddenly feeling uneasy and guilty for being here with you. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. He was certain that he liked you before Jake, so there was no harm in doing this right?

For the rest of sports day, you and Heeseung hung out together. It got less awkward between the two of you, and you started to gain confidence again. You even forgot about the whole situation during yoga between Yunjin and Heeseung; that’s how much fun he was making you have.

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A/N: i’m so so sorry for not updating in so long but i hope this chapter makes up for it 😭 it took me like 2 weeks so i hope you guys enjoy it! ALSO, how’s everyone enjoying enhypen’s new comeback?!?!?! ITS SOOOOOO GOOD!!!! i’m so obsessed with it it’s fr been on repeat since it came out. what’s everyone’s favorite tracks also? i love all of them so much but there’s just something about sacrifice (eat me up) and chaconne!! i promise i’ll update again soon so please don’t forget me!

taglist: @hsgwrld @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @baekstans @run2min

[godza]

college tip blog. transcript under the cut since it looks like shit on mobile

welcome to elise's second blog. this is an advice list, courtesy of me being done with my first year of college. i did kinda well for myself my first year (3.8/4 gpa) and that was accomplished despite going to the hospital for two weeks. we love to see it. these will de divided into three categories, dorms, academics, and involvement.

category one: DORMING

you may or may not be dorming, if you arent feel free to ignore me. college dorms are a lawless place full of hooligans. try to get one the quiet buildings if your school has them. mine didn't so i had to hear girls screeching over the bachelor every week. and lots of loud loud music. dorms are kinda sensory hell. be on very good terms with your roommate. they are on your team, if they aren't, try to negotiate with them so they stop sucking. my roommate was a bit of an alcoholic and had sex with a boy while i was in the room but she was nice most of the time.

don't get any decorations that take up surface area. your desk space is precious. decorate your walls only or bring small trinkets. make sure to bring your own lights, the room probably has one sucky overhead lamp. don't eat too often in the room, it absorbs smell and heat and will take forever to air out. get a small trashcan, not a big one. the big one will start to smell, and will be a bigger hassle to take to the dumpster. do your laundry way more often than you want to. towels and shit will pile up. use a towel twice, hang it on your closet door so it doesnt get smelly. bring a lot of clothes. you will not want to do laundry. rewear clothes before you wash them so you do less laundry. nobody will notice because they do it too. use the shit out of your meal plan. eat so much. the freshman 15 is a good thing. feel free to tell me more tricks, maybe i can use them next year!

category two: ACADEMICS

PARTICIPATE IN CLASS. RAISE YOUR HAND. participating will near automatically get you in the teacher's good books, and cause you to pay closer attention. wake up an hour or two before your first class of the day so you can get a good breakfast and time to take your morning slow. try to get to your work on time. i procrastinate a lot, im literally procrastinating my work by writing this. try to get your work done at least a day before the deadline, so you can feel relieved and proud of yourself. never feel shy to ask for extensions if you made poor time management decisions, most teachers won't mind.

professors aren't your friends, but they aren't your enemies either. stay on good terms with them, and they'll love you. you don't need to be a teacher's pet, just tell them good morning and raise your hand once a day. DON'T buy your textbooks before class starts. check libgen, check pdfdrive, for a free copy of your textbook. i tell this to everybody, even the professors. you will probably want a device of some sort, i recommend doing work on an ipad or other sort of tablet. i love the app pdfdrive, thats where i keep my textbooks to annotate them. notability is another useful school app. try not to skip class, and if you do, come up with an excuse to email the teacher. try to make friends in classes, or at least someone you would be able to do group projects with. you don't need to be actual friends, just someone who you can talk to about the class.

category three: INVOLVEMENT

JOIN CLUBS. JOIN A FUCK TON OF CLUBS. that's where you're most likely to make friends! join the art club, gsa, the club for your major, the gaming club, the anime club. i'm in choir, art, and anime club. these people have your interests, and you'll be able to pick out at least one person who is similar to you and tolerable. there should be a club fair at the start of each semester, check out every single table to see what's available. have fun!!!!!!!!!!

at my school, there is the main building where the gym, dining hall, and counseling offices are. the hallway leading to the dining hall is called main street. on main street, local and national business/volunteer groups will set up booths. i've signed up to donate stem cells there, i've sampled honey (tasted like shit), ive done all kinds of shit and gotten opportunities just by talking to the people at the tables. even if i'm not who they're looking for, i put my email on that list, to see if i could be that person in the future. when you're in the final two years of school, connections and experiences and internships will be huge. make yourself look good as fuck by taking advantage of as many opportunities as possible. put your name out there! do everything! doing things will make you happy, keep you busy and away from wallowing in your dorm room. you might love the new hobby you picked up, you might meet someone new, you might fucking hate whatever you do. now you know you hate that thing! now you know!

CONCLUSION

DO EVERYTHING. BE PREPARED BUT DON'T WORRY IF YOU AREN'T. YOU CAN DO IT I BELIEVE IN YOU. IF I GOT A NEAR PERFECT GPA WHILE HAVING THE WORST YEAR OF MY LIFE SO CAN YOU! remember: Cs GET DEGREES. try your best, that's all you can do!

[squirmydonnie]

CW/TW: academics

Yesterday I did bad on my test. I got an 51, but because some of the questions were faulty everyone had an added 6 points.

The girl I comforted once, who made an effort to not include me in a conversation because it was "an A-B conversation", started crying in class.

They normally get 100s on every assignment, and only sometimes slightly lower. I wanted to go up to them and check on them, but I had just checked on someone else just before walking into class. I felt bad because I had tried this once before. But I felt like I couldn't find a good time to give them a tissue. I also felt like I had gotten too nervous already and probably sweated all over it, so I didn't give it to them.

They get very upset when they can't get something quickly. When she was staring at me so angry I had gotten scared, but I understood why she was upset. When getting help it probably felt like she was getting talked down to. Plus something with their blood sugar because they have diabetes.

So when I came up to help them that one time I thought it was fine. Until I realized today, they were probably weirded out by me coming up to them. And maybe I make them uncomfortable.

People say not to worry about others perceptions of you, but I can't.

I think these people see me as someone who's allowed to get poor grades. It's not their fault of they think that way, but I do try.

I used to be like them. I mean I wouldn't cry if I got lower then a B, but I get why they do. There's probably consequences they have to deal with and some kind of status they have to uphold.

And maybe I'm lucky I started failing at that status as soon as 6th grade. Maybe it's good. But its still uncomfortable.

This mindset makes me sick. That you are failure fo to grades, that your no longer intelligent because you didn't do as well on a test. And they way it can make you see others as well. In the GT classes people will call each other stupid a lot, and makes a whole bunch of unnecessary remarks. It gets tiring to hear everyday.

I get very upset with myself for ever thinking I am stupid. For ever thinking was dumb. Because that's wrong. I felt like worthless person.

I now know that I have these setbacks, that make it extremely difficult for me to keep up with these kinds of classes. I refuse to call them GT classes.

I hate the rift its created between students. It should have always been called advanced classes instead. If it's called "Gifted and Talented" you come across the problem of trying to explain that it doesn't mean that are or aren't gifted or talented and that its intelligence. Why would they make it this way? I almost feel like they wanted the rift, like they just wanted to make people feel bad.

Why are advanced classes basically just the regular classes sped up and with less instructions? Being in these classes would have been fine if it wasn't so shit.

I have adhd. I cannot do this sped up. I have autism. I can't do it with less instruction. Do not tell me to sit down and try to figure it out first. I will figure it out either when class is almost over or will get it done a month from now.

If I had advanced classes my way there wouldn't be any of this bullshit.

There would be accelerated classes which are faster for those who need work to be done that way. People who do the work quickly don't always comprehend it.

And also classes with more advanced content but at the regular pace.

I'm really just spit balling. I have no clue about whether or not this would be good, but I know what isn't. I know what hurts all factions of students in the schools.

General bad decision making.

Stop with these stupid names. Like when do you stop and think about whether what your labeling makes any sense.

I have beating myself up for years, for being a person who let academics rule my life. But I shouldn't. I don't know how to stop. It doesn't matter that I don't do it as much anymore.

I'm still left behind. Everyone's finishing their test an I'm still in class for another 40 minutes.

Everyone's working on assignment and I'm working on one from a month ago.

This would make anyone feel stupid or unworthy.

Knowing I'm not either of those only helps but so much when people in the class get upset with there 90s or 70s. And I'm in the back with my 20s, 40s, and 50s, and 60s.

I understand why your hurt. But when you say how bad your grade is, and it's an 80, don't ask why I'm looking at you weird.

What do you want me to say. Aw that sucks!

I guess it does. I'm not mad at you for feeling that way, but at the same time I'm not happy. I'm not happy the schools made you believe in bad grades.

It makes me sick to see you cry, even if your offput by me. You don't deserve that.

[house-of-mirrors]

alright character soldifying ask game lets go.... 11 for Samuel, 33 for O, 47 for Miles

11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?

Samuel is a man of few words and never had a 'proper' education with growing up an urchin during the fall of London. However, he's a prodigious zailor and cartographer. He probably doesn't label himself 'smart' because he doesn't have the academic skill set; however he's confident in his intelligence with hard skills, and he has an excellent memory. He probably also deals with some of the internalized issues of having a working class accent and people assuming your intelligence level :/ When it comes to subjects like zailing where he's the expert, he gets stubborn when others come in with different perspectives.

(I call Samuel the dad man but I ended up thinking of my own father here lmao)

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health? 

Orsinio avoids honey as much as he can after Nemesis. He enjoys a drink or two in moderation unless Mr Wines is playing with him but that's a different story. He's just not one to use many substances, despite being capable of making elixirs with toxicology skills. As for his health, he deals with chronic illness that being in the Neath only made 10x worse. At this moment in canon he's pretty stable, finally recovering after getting thrown in the washing machine with Nemesis and the Discordance. We love to see recovery arcs

Fun fact! I actually decided my character used a cane before I started to use one. It was at the time I was not yet diagnosed but I knew Something was wrong and I imagined what it would be like to have more support. Luckily I did finally get care soon after that and my doctor agreed it was good for me to use something for balance <3

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Do they want to be visible or invisible?

Oh no.

Well, Miles' whole narrative arc that led to their ultimate downfall was seeking power lmao. They decided they were important because of their birth into the leisure class, that it's their right to have whatever status they desire. They want to be an important person and they make literally all the wrong choices trying to achieve that. "Those who seek power will never be satisfied" etc.

It gets interesting though, an external vs internal conflict. Externally, Miles wants recognition and accolades, they want to be visible. They take up a lot of space and are constantly doing things to get attention (and negative attention is still attention). However, on the inside, Miles wants to disappear. They hate their family name, they hate themself more with each poor choice they make. They wish they could be free, live a 'normal' life and not worry about status, but that never happens; they always choose power over everything else to the point of self destruction. Their final decision to knock is the greatest act of becoming invisible.

[stalking-fictional-characters]

People often don't believe I'm autistic because I have a lot of less obvious traits and basically was able to figure out masking pretty well during highschool.

I'm always hesitant and afraid to bring up my autism even if I want to because I'm afraid I'm "not autistic enough" or "maybe I somehow 'cured' it as a teen".

I have academically done very well and am now in law school. Just hearing I'm in law school seems to be enough for people to be skeptical. But I'm so fucking autistic and law school is so fucking hard and hell and the worst decision I've ever gone along with.

I don't view most of the reading the same way as others or think of the "correct" interpretation.

I have extreme difficulty socializing or interacting with others and the atmosphere in law school has made me feel extremely ostracized and alone and like a black sheep. I'm pretty sure I've cause some significant mental decline with how fucking isolated I have been. I have barely spoken with anyone outside my family for 3 years.

My memory recall and ability to learn is actually quite poor. I have a good short term memory and very good problem solving skills so I've been able to pass tests and hence my classes. But I can never recall info when asked in class and wouldn't be able to basically anytime if people did talk to me. I don't remember any of my classmates names and it bothers me how so many seem to know mine.

On the slim chance I actually know the info asked of me I am terrible with processing info when asked suddenly (cold called) and so I stutter and give a jumbled response cus I can't think so fast.

I can't drive due to slow processing speed and anxiety (and it took so long for me to acknowledge and accept that me not driving wasn't due to me "not wanting to" or "overreacting" but that actually it is due to legit medical reasons that make it unsafe for me and others)

I have low heat tolerance/baro-sensitive sensory disorder so for most of the year I wear shorts and sleeveless shirts. Which makes me stick out at school.

I wear a bra to school cuz it's expected but it causes me discomfort (they are the correct size and I got extenders) so I don't wear them outside of school and it has definitely caused other to judge.

I have Keychains of my hyperfixation on my backpack and still own several graphic tees which makes me "childish".

My anxiety and poor fine motor control gives me a accommodation to use my laptop which makes me stick out in some classes and I've gotten stares.

(Also should state the law profession is extremely ableist and a teacher implied once I couldn't be autistic cuz I make it past the first year of school)

I dislike being near others and have found a isolated spot in the library. It throws me off when someone gets there before me and I have trouble doing work anywhere else in the library. Also this spot is the only place in the school I can feel relaxed due to no one seeing me and hence not being under pressure to follow whatever social norms or cues I feel all the time I am missing.

I have very poor auditory learning and processing of auditory information. Which means most classes I teach myself using the PowerPoint slides (if there are any) and by looking up outlines online.

I have poor sleep management/ some kind of chronic fatigue so I fall asleep in classes alot which is very difficult to hide from the teacher.

There is more things but I felt like pointing out law school based issues.

I got light sensitivity, problem processing sacrcasm/jokes sometimes, hunger cues issues, and executive disfunction and choice paralysis. But those mostly are at home.

To the average person I know how to be polite, I hold eye contact (kinda excessively but I've learned to make myself look away), I am educated and in what people assume is a very difficult field (it's not for school) that isn't accommodating, and I can carry a conversation a socially acceptable amount.

So I don't seem autistic to them.

But guys I am. I'm so fucking autistic. I haven't had friends for 6 years cuz i cant socialize, and I spend all free time reading fanfiction for a fandom I've been hyperfixated on for 7 years and 9 months

fuck it. shout out to "high functioning" neurodivergents

the ones who can mask easily, the ones who can get social cues, the ones who have managed to go most of their life not even knowing they were ND because they didn't present as the stereotypical ND person.

the ones who can pay attention in class, understand social etiquette, who understand societial expectations

the ones who don't feel neurodivergent enough bc they don't struggle in the same ways/areas a lot of NDs do, or they can't relate to other NDs' experiences because they always understood these things easily

the ones with high empathy, the ones who DO get the joke, the ones who are constantly told that they can't possibly be neurodivergent because they don't act like what you'd expect a neurodivergent person to act like.

you are neurodivergent enough. you are valid, and so are your experiences. not struggling as much as others do in some places doesn't mean you dont struggle at all. your condition and diagnosis is valid. your symptoms are valid. YOU ARE VALID. not checking all the supposed boxes doesn't mean you aren't neurodivergent. you are enough. you are valid. you are loved. you are valued. you matter. you belong in neurodivergent spaces, you deserve to use whatever resources are available to you, you are allowed to take up space in these communities. and i am so, so proud of you.

feel free to, and actually, i encourage you to reblog this with your experiences. we belong in this community as much as anyone else. please also tag this w/ any neurodivergent conditions i may have forgotten 💙

[evanvanness]

Aranet4 review: I love it

When the world first began to open up post-pandemic, lots of friends at conferences brought along the Aranet4, which is a CO2 monitor.

This is it, for scale, it's about as big as a table coaster:

The idea was that a CO2 monitor is a good proxy for whether you're at risk of Covid contagion. If there's lots of CO2 in the air, it means you're likely in a poorly ventilated place and your risk of infection goes up exponentially.

I was never particularly COVID19 paranoid (but never got it either!), so I didn't buy the CO2 sensor until a few weeks ago.

Now I'd probably say that the aranet4 is my best purchase for $150 in awhile.

What if CO2 makes you dumber, not just at risk for sickness?

Aranet points to a 2015 study by academics at Harvard, SUNY-Upstate, and Syracuse University showing significant cognitive decline with elevated CO2 levels.

This graphic is from Aranet:

Digging into the details: the methodology is that they took 24 workers over a 6 day period and tracked how they did using standardized computer tests. 3 of those days were at ~500 ppm, 2 days were at ~1000ppm, and one day was at ~1400ppm.

Here is a screenshot in the study of the visualization of those days (Green+=500, Green=1000, Conventional=1400)

Or if you want more detail:

Interesting to see the raw data and note how higher CO2 affects specific things more than others.

Having read through the study, I think Aranet's description of "1000-1400 ppm brain cognitive function decreases by 15%" is not particularly well supported in terms of science, but in terms of a marketing claim it is...well, reasonable. Sometimes you gotta extrapolate.

===

C02 levels are roughly determined by amount of space, number of people and ventilation.

So what have I learned and why do I like the aranet4?

Open a window in the car.

Our family vehicle is a fullsize SUV, so it's a bit bigger than a compact car or a sedan. It doesn't matter, you could drive a Suburban and you still need to circulate air if the whole family is in the car.

I'm convinced that much of the kids arguments can be traced to high CO2 levels, because it only takes 5 minutes until you're at ~1400 if you have the windows closed. If you're on a long drive, you can get up to quite high levels.

How many times do you remember someone saying "it's time for some fresh air" and opening a window when you were a kid? And then usually the situation calmed down?

CO2 levels even get elevated after 15 minutes with just 2 people.

Open a window now and then. Refresh the air. It doesn't take much to change your air quality.

2. Gas range on = high CO2 in the whole house

As I'm writing this, the monitor spiked from below 1000 to 1350. My wife turned the gas range on, and my monitor picked it up even though I wasn't particularly close to the kitchen.

3. Lots of people = over 1000. Lots of people and poor ventilation = 3000.

As the graphic above indicates, outside you're generally in the 450-500 range. As soon as you go inside in most modern buildings, you're talking 800-1000, even if you're more or less by yourself.

If there's lots of people and indoors, you're over 1000, even if it's a massive meeting hall with huge vaulted ceilings.

This was ~40 minutes into a ~40 person meeting in a ~1000 sq ft room.

4. It takes a long time for all the rooms in my house take to reach an equilibrium measurement after I leave a window open.

I don't know anything about fluid dynamics apparently, but I figured it would happen relatively quickly. It doesn't. The room with the open window changes quite fast, but other rooms take a long time.

I've had a lot of fun in my few weeks with this CO2 monitor, running small-scale experiments (hey, what if I turn the bathroom fan on and leave the CO2 monitor two rooms away?). I feel like I've learned some important lessons and awareness that will stick with me, even if I lost the monitor tomorrow.

Easily worth the $150 for me, if I make better decisions as a result of having fresher air, then it will be an incredible return on investment.

[jambjars]

ACADEMIC BLOG POST 8- Emotions and Affect: Getting Mad from the Comfort of Home

*Note: Blog 7 is appearing prior to Blog 1, it exists, just scroll down!

This week, we're back to the Rust Belt of the United States to talk about Emotion and Affect through the 2017 video game Night in the Woods.

Finji's 2018 Switch Trailer for Night in the Woods

The game follows its main character Mae Borowski (all characters are stylized as animals, but the stories are human) after she drops out from university and returns to her hometown, the rural town of Possum Springs. It's a community also suffering the effects of a dying coal industry; all its youth want to move to a more prosperous place and all of its mom-and-pop shops are being replaced by corporately-owned megastores. Despite Mae returning home for some familiarity and comfort in a tumultuous time, she's faced with the idea that things are changing whether she likes it or not and that ignoring her persisting mental health issues isn't sustainable.

These are all themes that hit home with me in quite a personal way, even more so through the specific way that Night in the Woods explores them. The storytelling techniques the game uses make that even more true in how they force the player to engage with the story through an extremely flawed protagonist. Engaging conversationally with characters and feeling trapped between two horrible answers is an excellent way to elicit uncomfort in your audience and to make them emotionally invested in fixing what Mae is breaking. This is in line with Night in the Woods's themes of responsibility. By making players emotionally responsible for the characters in Mae's life, the game is creating a feedback loop that ensures that the audience keeps engaging in empathetic choices.

It's worth mentioning that audiences might not extend the same grace to Mae if she was not the controlled character. Without the ability to make some good choices for her, to know she's capable of them, she might be seen as intolerable to some. Indeed, after I played this game for the first time and fell in love with it in 2017, I was surprised to learn how little understanding a lot of players afford Mae, calling her selfish, impulsive, and destructive. She is all of those things, most likely due to her unaddressed poor mental health preventing her from making connections in university and growing as a person, but that felt so natural to me as a 16 year old I couldn't understand why people were less than empathetic towards her. When playing it again, now that I'm older, I still see myself in Mae in more ways perhaps than I did in 2017, but I understand why and how people shy away from her now.

Night in the Woods includes characters belonging to several underrepresented communities-- in diverse not only in of sexuality and gender identity, but also in class, addiction, and mental health. These issues are vastly unexplored in media but are approached in such a realistic manner, and only explored fully through Mae should she engage in the world as though she intends to improve. In this way, she extends an affective bridge to the characters around her and they improve as a result. Mae is still suffering grief and plenty of other issues of her own, but in making the decision to engage with the world, she is making it a better place.

In terms of my own practice:

Night in the Woods has inexorably changed me as a person and an artist. My artistic style has changed because of it, the narratives I lean towards have been impacted by my experience of it, and I can't forget the journal habit i picked up at the age of 16 stemming from Mae herself. For this course, that means utilizing affective techniques wherever I can, because I want my work to mean things to people the way NITW does to me. While I can't (or probably shouldn't attempt) to make a whole video game for this course with limited dialogue options, I can employ that in other ways by exploring my own relationship to the places I come from honestly, and not backing off if things get uncomfortable.

Bibliography

Finji (2018). Night in the Woods Trailer [Nintendo Switch]. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXcdirHAKM0&ab_channel=Finji [Accessed 1 Dec. 2023].

Flunderingchipper (2022). Monstrous Existence - An Analysis of Night in the Woods. [online] Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_uYeAg_2R0&ab_channel=Flunderingchipper [Accessed 3 Dec. 2023].

Benson, Infinite Fall, et al (2017). Night in the Woods [Video Game] Finji.

Pane, S. (2017). Night in the Woods is the Working Class Fiction I’ve Been Waiting For. [online] Paste Magazine. Available at: https://www.pastemagazine.com/games/night-in-the-woods/night-in-the-woods-is-the-working-class-fiction-iv [Accessed 25 Nov. 2023].

Petit, C. (2017). What Lies Beneath: On the Love and Anger of Night in the Woods. [online] Feminist Frequency. Available at: https://feministfrequency.com/2017/03/10/what-lies-beneath-on-the-love-and-anger-of-night-in-the-woods/.

Saas, D. (2017). ‘Night in the Woods’ Is Soulful, Empathetic, and Too Real. [online] Vice. Available at: https://www.vice.com/en/article/nz5vzm/night-in-the-woods-is-soulful-empathetic-and-too-real.

Veale, K. (2021). ‘If anyone’s going to ruin your night, it should be you’: Responsibility and affective materiality in Undertale and Night in the Woods. Convergence- Sage Journals, [online] 8(2), pp.451–467. doi:https://doi.org/10.1177/13548565211014434.

Bonus self-portrait doodles featuring myself and the NITW protagonist, Mae.

[exentric-echo]

I was raised by children. Not by age, but by mentality. I am 23 years old and it took me becoming a parent to realize how silly and immature my parents were. I am SEVERELY emotionally damaged and I can’t do anything about it at this point because no matter how many psychiatrists I go see and how many meds I take, my brain will never change the way it is.

I will never stop bottling in my anger, because I only ever experienced my fathers rage without control. I will never stop being a people pleaser, because I was only ever taught to do as I was told and never given praise. I will never be violent, even when necessary. Because my father made me so afraid of violence and anger that my legs wobble at even the slightest bit of confrontation. I can never feel safe in my body again. Because when I tried to hide my body with sweatshirts, or when I tried changing my style to feel more confident, he would force me to go change into something he approved of. And so now, I have a never ending feeling of insecurity when I’m out, because I was taught to be uncomfortable in clothes. I can’t even stand up to authority, because he drilled it into my mind with FEAR that good boys do as they’re told. He’s a 50 year old manchild who throws a tantrum at the first inconvenience. He would hurt anyone for looking at him the wrong way. He takes out his frustrations on others, sometimes to their detriment. And that is the man that was supposed to guide me growing up.

I’ll never feel good about myself again. Because my mother takes every chance to make herself feel superior. Because I was a gifted child, but I wasn’t allowed to pursue my passions. Because even though I’d gotten half a dozen awards for my intellect, the football award I was most proud of was “useless” because it wasn’t academic. I was the best in the school. Every school. My IQ measured at GENIUS. And now I can’t even remember what I was doing. I can’t remember what happened yesterday. All because I dropped out of high school to spite you, mother. And even then, you found a way to make me feel inferior. I had the world at my fingertips. A partial scholarship in 8th grade. I could’ve been anything. And I fucked up. But instead of helping me be better, nurturing and inspiring me to get back up? You pushed me down. For 3 years all I heard was every little side-comment you made. I hear you reminding me that I was a failure. And the funniest part? When I finally did graduate, I did it in accident. Schoolwork was so easy for me that i SOMEHOW accidentally did too much work and graduated without noticing. I was special. And I never felt it. I hear you judge me for how I dress, knowing full well why I don’t care what goes on my body. I hear you tell my child that you’re a better parent. I hear you make yourself feel superior by putting everyone down. But god forbid someone says something about you. Just like dad, you can’t handle criticism. But where dad throws a temper tantrum, you flat out try to leave. Like a child that didn’t get their way, you say “okay then I just won’t do _ for you anymore”. Like a child who doesn’t like the way her game is going, you shut it down and basically say “oh it’s against me? Well then I don’t want to play anymore”. You completely avoid accountability and make yourself to be the poor victim because you work so hard and blah blah blah. But it was your decision to not leave my dad, no matter how much he left you.

You two are so fucking stubborn, and you’re fucking children. And now here I am. I can’t say no to people. I NEED to be useful. I can’t put myself first. If anyone needs something, I put their needs over mine. I can’t stand up to people. The slightest thought of angering or disappointing someone makes me want to cry. I can’t process anger. I am the sweetest, kindest, nicest, most generous, friendly, helpful person on the planet. Not because I’m a decent person, but because I was traumatized into being exactly that. I’m late to everything. Because dad never started getting ready until everyone else already was. Because we didn’t leave home until it was time for us to be arriving. I’m messy. Because every time I tried cleaning for me, you told me it was never enough. And so now I’m comfortable in a mess. I’m comfortable in chaos, because when I tried learning order for me, you made me feel like it was useless. I scream at videogames now. I say the most vile, horrific shit to random people in the internet, because the only way I can vent my anger is when I know I’m not gonna be hurt. I’m a fucked up person. And I’m probably gonna fuck up my own child. But I’ll make DAMN FUCKING SURE that they’re not you.

[sepublic]

Harvey and Gilbert Park

Fun fact: Harvey is the second kid to attack as soon as Terra lays the rules for Covens VS Wilds, beat out only by the mushroom-headed witch; He immediately goes for a purple fireball against Raine’s St. Epiderm classmate. We later see Harvey teaming up together with the witch of Kikimora’s species, whereas Gilbert is never shown casting a spell, just running once and then being caught.

Given Harvey’s rather extreme overreaction to Willow getting expelled -he challenges Perry’s sentence of a year of grounding for Gus by making his three years for Willow- and the way he takes immediate control, setting the status quo for how he and Gilbert will homeschool their daughter (while Gil focuses on how they’ll spend time together as a family), and...

I really do get the impression that Harvey isn’t just the more ‘stern’ parent comparatively, he can be a bit of a helicopter parent as well; Very proactive out of a sense of worry, trying to make sure Willow does everything right to keep her safe. Being concerned that Willow is prepared for anything, and this is an extension of his behavior as a kid... Harvey is one of the first to lash out in self-defense (he’s the first Wild to act) and he quickly creates an alliance; Harvey and his ally have a plan. He does everything to compensate for if it’s not enough.

So I’m reading Harvey as an almost stressed worrywart of a person, who’s used to acting and striking first, in order to immediately cover all of his bases; A proactive aggression born out of caution, a “best defense is an overwhelming offense” type of person, where he feels the need to seize every possible opportunity to cover any bases, hence his pressuring of Willow to join abominations for its opportunities; He wants his kid to be safe, to have everything planned out and accounted for, etc. Harv is the parent who warns his kid that the world is cutthroat so you gotta be cutthroat first; You snooze you lose. This also makes me inclined to believe it was mostly Harvey’s decision to enroll Willow in Abominations.

I also wonder if Gilbert was motivated to go along because of financial struggles in the past; We know he’s at St. Epiderm, which Raine mentions is very expensive. Even if he wasn’t poor, Gil may not have been very rich, either; And was possibly banking on a scholarship to get by, like Raine. Of course, we know Gilbert and Harvey end up at the same school together... So as another parallel to Raine (and Raeda in general), I’m speculating that Gilbert was the one who moved to Glandus, due to the tuition of St. Epiderm being too much for ha family to afford.

This might be a motivating factor for Gilbert to support Harvey’s decision; He’s someone who tried to seek academic opportunities in order to get by in life, but failed, so he wants Willow to do better and avoid that pitfall. And/or, Gilbert transferring to Glandus DID cause him to meet his beloved... So given his leniency and more relaxed, positive nature, Gilbert could’ve helped convince Harvey to switch Willow to Plants, emboldened by Bump’s advice. From Gil’s perspective, this kind of thing doesn’t always work out, and sometimes it doesn’t need to, sometimes it ends up being for the better, even!

Meanwhile Harvey... He was a Glandus kid, and we know Glandus kids are tough and aggressive in general. So I feel that also influenced his personality as a teenager, his immediate reaction as the first Wild to do something. In general he feels like a much more on-edge type of person, and I have to suspect this type of stress contributed to Harvey having a full mane of hair, more wild and bigger than most witches; To being balding in the present (that or he wanted a beard and transferred most of his hair to his face). Meanwhile the more calm and positively-oriented Gilbert, who focuses on good news and the bright and fun side of things, has remained consistent.

In his team photo with Gilbert, we don’t see Harvey’s palisman, as he’s holding a trophy; So unfortunately we can’t analyze and suggest any symbolism behind his palisman. In fact, in Escape of the Palisman, Willow says her dad has a staff; Not dads. Dad. Singular. It’s possible she only mentions just the one because she’s speaking of Gilbert, who as the more lenient and fun dad is someone she can count on to help (whereas Harvey would lose his mind), but it makes me wonder... We see Hermonculus and even one of his students use an Abomination in place of a palisman, and we know Harvey was in the Abomination track.

Him not having a palisman in this photo may be deliberate; It’s possible he uses abomination goop and that’s been his method his entire life, so his abomination is currently stored away. It’s also possible Harvey had a palisman but it was broken or lost due to unknown means, or he never even got to make one due to Belos snorting up all of the palistrom wood. But with what I mentioned earlier, I’m inclined to think that Harvey just relied on an abomination.

And I’m also interested in analyzing how Harvey, as well as Gilbert’s magic tracks could reflect them as people. I’ve done a lot of analysis in the past on Abomination witches and how their use of the magic reflects them as people... In a way, one could argue that Harvey is a more positive reflection of Odalia; Kinda controlling and even a bit aggressive, focused on opportunity. But it’s from a much more reasonable and earnestly concerned position, as someone who DOES want the best for his child; So in terms of role with his significant other, Odalia and Harvey might be the ‘strict’ parents, but overall Harvey is more similar to Alador, who fittingly IS in Abominations like him, not an Oracle like Odalia.

So Harvey has Abominations to reflect this type of micro-management of family affairs, coming up with elaborate plans on how to handle Willow being expelled, etc., I wonder if Harvey never forgave himself for not doing enough, and wants to spare his daughter from that. In general he’s a more intense and extreme dude, and since Abominations is part of a powerhouse trifecta alongside Plant and Construction, I think that also shows how Harvey is concerned about being fortified (physically, financially, mentally) for a sense of defense and security. He wants to protect himself and also his loved ones, which reminds me of Willow’s choice of future; We can see where she gets the ‘sting of defeat’ side of herself from, is what I’m saying!

So while Willow has inherited Harvey’s more powerhouse personality that can suddenly overwhelm you in its aggressive and focused nature, she’s also got the softer side; From Harvey, the more relaxed parent. Which fits in how Willow can still be calm and grounding, and is a person who wants to uplift and help others as well... Harvey is a Construction witch, so one could read him as a constructive person; Focusing on positives, how something can help them out. A more constructive criticism kind of person, in fact. Not that Harvey is MEAN, but he can def overreact a bit out of worry, hence his extreme promise of three years of being grounded for Willow, not that I think he actually meant it.

I have to wonder if Harvey fell in love with Gilbert because he was a calming, soothing person who could get him to relax and chill, someone he could be soft around; A person who helped Harv realize he can take things slowly and not always worry about the future. While Gilbert, he kinda loves the more tenacious and proactive energy of Harvey, it’s fun for him! This all culminates in Willow, who to sum it up, looks like a cinnamon roll but CAN kill you.

Intriguingly, Gilbert’s palisman is a pig; Given who he is, I’m inclined to interpret this with the more positive, or at least less critical, attributes associated with pigs. From what I know of pigs, they can be very intelligent, but also restless and stubborn, in need of enrichment, and in the case of wild pigs such as boars; Defensive to the point of aggression. Wild pigs have been known to throw aside any concern for their lives in order to take down an enemy; There are stories of them being skewered on spears, only to push themselves further just to reach the person on the other end.

To dive into purely speculative territory bordering on personal fanon... This all sounds more like Harvey’s personality, or at least what I’ve ascertained from Harvey; Esp the idea of the hunted taking the aggressive lead, which reflects how he acted in Covens VS Wilds well. Since palismen reflect in part the desires of their witches, could Gilbert’s pig be similar to Harvey, because Gil realized he wanted to be with him? In deciding his future, it was a future with Harvey; Which is a cute parallel to Luz mentioning that she’s not sure what she wants for her future, but she knows she wants Amity to be there for it. Makes me wonder if Luz’s palisman might reflect Amity in some capacity...

Of course, I also want to consider; Gilbert is apparently the Boiling Isles version of Korean, if we consider his daughter’s heritage and last name Park. Not only does this make me think Gilbert is the one who was born as Park, and Harvey took his surname (which is a very sweet act of trust), but it also makes me want to consider the symbolism of the pig in the Korean zodiac as well... Which at this point, I’m fairly certain the writers didn’t plan this at all; But I’m going to bring it up anyway as inspiration for fanon, because I’ve never let that sort of thing stop me when I’m interested.

Looking through a few sources for traits I think could apply to Gilbert, and one site mentions that those born on the year of the pig are likely to be good parents. Other traits include being intelligent, honest, courageous, completing projects, sincere, and straightforward. I think these could all apply to Gil, with ‘completing projects’ applying to his lifetime commitment with his husband and care for Willow, as well as his job as a Construction witch. Pigs are suggested as easy to anger however, which I don’t think fits Gilbert, more Harvey; But that could loop back to the idea of Gil’s palisman reflecting his love for Harv. I’m def overthinking it, but that’s what I’m known for.

[monkeyspawnskydiamond]

Prostitution: A Word That UN Women Does Not Want to Hear

by Barbara Crossette

https://www.passblue.com/2015/03/31/prostitution-a-word-that-un-women-does-not-want-to-hear/

On the eve of a speech Ruchira Gupta was to give on International Women’s Day in New York as the recipient of a Woman of Distinction award, she got a strange email. Gupta, who has collected numerous awards for her work against sex slavery in India — including an Emmy for her 1996 documentary, “The Selling of Innocents” — was asked in the message not to speak on prostitution “or put UN Women on the spot.”

The email came from the organization that had chosen Gupta for its highest award, the NGO Committee on the Status of Women, NY (NGO CSW/NY), which supports the work of UN Women and the United Nations Commission on the Status of Women, whose annual session was about to begin on March 9. The NGO Committee had itself used the word prostitution in its announcement of the award in January.

“I was surprised that the UN was trying to censor an NGO, and that they should tell me not to speak on prostitution, when my work was with victims of prostitution,” Gupta said in an email interview to PassBlue. She is the founder of Apne Aap (meaning “self empowerment” in Hindi), a multifaceted support group for women trafficked into sex slavery in Mumbai and other South Asian cities. Apne Aap now has international reach.

In her speech at New York’s iconic Apollo Theater, where UN Women’s executive director, Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka of South Africa, was also on the program, Gupta ignored the request and chose to speak forcefully “to represent the voices of victims and survivors of prostitution” in her own organization and others around the world. In late 2013, UN Women, in a note on the issue of terminology, had said it would use the terms “sex work” and “sex workers” and “recognize the right of all sex workers to choose their work or leave it and to have access to other employment opportunities.”

UN Women’s decision and recommendation not to “conflate sex work, sexual exploitation and trafficking” sounds outrageous if not ludicrous to people like Gupta, who work in the squalid brothel quarters of Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata and other cities, to which young girls from around South Asia are lured by traffickers — or sold by poor families — into a life of miserable bondage, with no chance to make choices. In her speech on International Women’s Day on March 8, Gupta said the youngest girl trafficked into bonded labor she has met was just 7 years old.

“The pimps would hand over these little girls to the brothel keepers . . . and these girls were locked up for the next five years,” she said. “Raped repeatedly by eight or ten customers every night.” By their 20s, Gupta said, their youth is gone and bodies are broken, and they are “thrown out on the sidewalk to die a very difficult death because they were no longer commercially viable.”

In January 2014, 61 South Asian victims and survivors of prostitution as well as women’s groups representing communities marginalized by caste, class and ethnicity and antitrafficking organizations helping girls and women “trapped in bonded labour and other forms of servitude” wrote to Mlambo-Ngcuka to protest the new UN Women policy of avoiding the word prostitution.

“We do not want to be called ‘sex workers’ but prostituted women and children, as we can never accept our exploitation as ‘work,’ ” the letter signers wrote. “We think that the attempts in UN documents to call us ‘sex workers’ legitimizes violence against women, especially women of discriminated caste, poor men and women and women and men from minority groups, who are the majority of the prostituted.”

They are still awaiting an answer from UN Women, Gupta said.

Censoring comment about violence against girls and women is not new in the Commission on the Status of Women or in the UN more broadly. Nafis Sadik, the outspoken executive director of the United Nations Population Fund, or UNFPA, from 1987 to 2000, said in an interview in 2013 that there had been numerous attempts to silence her, often from pressure by governments.

Sadik was told at a session of the commission several years ago, for example, not to relate a story from Zimbabwe to illustrate the hazards women face when trying to use contraception. “This man’s wife wasn’t getting pregnant, and apparently he discovered that she was taking pills,” she said. “And he killed her because she made him look embarrassed [in front of other men]. Furthermore, that defense was being accepted in the court: that you can’t humiliate the husband.”

Groups working with victims of sexual slavery in developing countries often see a widening gap between Western women — particularly “academic feminists,” in Gupta’s view — and the women working to help the most exploited girls at street level in some of the world’s most dangerous slums, where pimps and brothel owners may be not only slave masters but also killers. Gupta had a knife held to her neck on one occasion when she was filming her award-winning documentary. Women rushed to surround her, separating her from her would-be attacker, and saved her life.

The women working with victims and survivors of sex trafficking and bonded prostitution who signed the letter to UN Women fear that campaigns in richer nations, almost all of them in North America and northern Europe, will lead to more moves to decriminalize pimps and brothel keepers — making not only sex workers but all aspects of the sex industry legal.

This is not the only issue that has opened fissures between the richer, progressive nations or societies where women construct views of social change based on their own advanced social and legal environment or well-intentioned views of developing nations’ cultures. They do not always reflect what most poor women — the majority of women in the world — who lack power over their lives really need and want.

Twenty years ago, many Western feminists and officials in countries of the global North dealing with international aid programs criticized campaigners against female genital mutilation or child marriage in developing nations, excusing these harmful practices as “part of their culture.” There are still affluent women who have enjoyed the liberating benefits of contraception for decades who argue against promoting family planning in the developing world, believing that women want to have as many children as possible — sons in particular — because their social status or the family’s economy may depend on fertility.

Global Connection Television - The only talk show of its kind in the world Such condescending Western attitudes began to change, sometimes dramatically, after the transformative International Conference on Population and Development in Cairo in 1994 and the Fourth World Conference on Women in Beijing in 1995, an event that Gupta says has inspired her work ever since. Women in distant lands are now being heard and taking the lead on issues close to home.

Gupta and her like-minded colleagues who signed the letter to UN Women were asking to be part of the discussion on prostitution — in a global context.

[ravenadottir]

How do you think the LIs would feel about MC wanting to be a stay at home mum? Discounting the ones who don't want kids.

i'll be honest, there's only a handful of guys and girls who would respect mc's decision without trying to change her mind.

'cause most of them would like to see her thrive and not necessarily understand stay-at-home is just another job, except the poor people don't get paid.

there's so much that goes into it, like administrating a whole house, groceries, organization, kids, kids' schedules, homework, holidays, meals, cleaning and doing it all right? fucking heroes! and that's just scratching the surface, 'cause some also take care of the maintenance (shout out to my mom that learned how to use tools from me so she wouldn't have to ask my step dad to do stuff).

discounting the ones that don't want kids: carl and lucas.

wouldn't bat an eyelash if they knew this is exactly what mc wants:

henrik is supportive all the way, no matter what she wants, and he knows she's capable.

tai understands because i get the feeling his mom was also a stay-at-home mom.

kassam wants her to do what she wants, whatever that is, and to come back from tour and have full time at home with his wife and kids is kind of the best part of coming back. ibrahim (also a headcanon) probably grew up watching his mom doing the same thing.

gary has the example of a working mom, his own, and a stay-at-home-does-charity-on-the-side, his nan, and he knows ow much work that is. he might try to persuade her because of how tiring it is but would be supportive still.

hannah just wants her cottage-core fantasy to become a reality, and having wife and kids at home is probably part of it.

elisa works from home, and except for the kids she does all the rest. she knows the responsability of the job and how much work goes into it, so she would be supportive.

noah. yeah, no arguments here. he would offer if mc needed to pursue her dream so i can only assume he would be extremely supportive if that's what she wants.

would try to push her to stay in her career/study path:

marisol. academic knowledge to her is everything. half of her time she's studying and the other half she's stressing about it. grasping the concept of leaving a career to embrace another doesn't get in her head that easily, especially one that's so looked down at.

bobby. he's an ambitious guy and expects the girl with him to be the same. i could be wrong but he strikes as the type of guy who would say something negative about it, mostly because he doesn't know how much work goes into it. i would love mc to just make him be a stay-at-home dad for a week, to get a taste of everything he would have to do.

to girls like lottie and priya is really hard to argue because they might understand feminism in a different tone. "you need to prove you're capable." is usually the response they give but they don't get the full scope of what feminism actually is. pushing your girlfriend to stay on her career is just... anti-feminist. mc should be able to make a decision of her own, do what she wants without pressure of anyone else, and if a stay-at-home parent is what she wants to do, fantastic! it's her decision! it shouldn't be an issue, especially if they mention feminism, which they would...

[butwhatifidothis]

So. Took a look into that fic @nilsh13 is going through the comments of. Dunno if I’ll actually go through the entire thing - 300k words is certainly a lot of words to read through, especially with it still updating, but I’ve read through/am reading through longer ones - but I jumped to the latest chapter to get a feel for where the fic’s at now.

I’m not halfway through the chapter and I have Words To Say lmao, under the cut

This is going to be as serious a critique about the sections I’ve selected as possible - I want to be clear why I think what is being written is not of high quality, pointing out specifically what I have wrong with it. 

Here are some snippets of the fic (boldened), and following those snippets are my thoughts on them:

“My actions have caused immense turmoil, pitting friend against friend, mother against daughter, and brother against sister*,” muttered Edelgard, desperately trying to drive any hint of self-pity (emphasis mine) from her voice. “My best friend has been disowned by her family, Hubert and Ferdinand’s fathers are dead or imprisoned, and the woman I love is now deemed a heretic by the Church that once offered her shelter. The weight of my decisions seems to pull down all who are caught in the shadow of the Imperial crown.” The Flame Emperor gave Professor Hanneman a wan smile. “Whatever imagined slights you believe you have committed against me, they pale in comparison to the carnage my own words and deeds have unleashed.” 

""I made my choice, the only choice I could make, and dragged this continent down to hell with me. It makes me a poor ruler, and an even baser person, but that was the path I knew I must take."" 

“"It is funny you use the word ‘choice’, Miss Edelgard. When I resigned my title to study at Garreg Mach, I lost marriage prospects, became penniless outside of a small stipend…I even renounced the opportunity to have a family.” Hanneman smiled, his whole body suffused with melancholy. “Really, how could I dare to dream of bringing a daughter into a world this senseless and cruel, knowing that someday, she too, could be hurt in such a way? I…I would not survive it.” The man’s body shook. “I sacrificed those things, things I desperately wanted, because the chance to allow my sister to rest in peace was more important. And I would make that choice again, despite all that it has cost me. You are much the same.”"

"“But your sacrifices were your own,” protested the Emperor of Adrestia. “Thousands bleed for the choices that I have made, and sacrifice themselves for the cause that I have placed before them. There is a profound difference-“"

"“We are both wise enough to know a painful truth,” said the scholar with a melancholy smile. “No matter how grave the sins, no matter how many innocents suffer…there will be countless individuals who will defend the law not because it is just, or righteous, but because it is the law. They will permit a hundred Abysses, and a thousand women to be raped, and a million dead children, as long as such actions do not disturb their order.” He placed a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “To stand against such moral rot, knowing that the world will despise and vilify you for it, is the truest sign of not only a just ruler, but a good woman.”"

"The academic’s words blazed with the passion of both a scholar and a man who had watched his world crumble to ash. A man who had been forced to live in the remnants of a life forever altered by the cruelty of both society and of humanity. And yet he had fought, the only way he could, to make the world better. It gave the Flame Emperor new resolve."

"“I…” He turned and looked away. “I believe in you, Miss Edelgard. When I see you, and your determination, your spirit, your bravery in choosing not what is easy, but what is right…it reminds me of her.” Fingers clenched around his locket. “I will fight for you, in the way I should have fought for my sister, long ago. My strength is meagre, and my courage more meagre still. However, all of it is yours.”" 

The author writes Edelgard as one trying to give pity onto herself for her actions, despite how negatively they affect her, due to the immense ramifications those actions have had on those both around her and those under her care. This is the appropriate response to someone who has done as morally dubious an action as starting and spearheading a war that has led to the deaths and suffering of countless innocent people, some of whom were undoubtedly already going through immense suffering without war compounding itself onto their already existing pain. She - rightfully - points as, as a negative towards herself, that she has forced thousands of people to sacrifice their lives, livelihoods, friends, family, homes, etc. in order to continue with her war. Edelgard's canonical self-justification - that she had no other choice to do this - is properly utilized, and further characterization is given to her when she herself recognizes that performing such horrendous actions on the people under her care makes her a poor ruler and terrible person. This is, in truth, a decent set-up for her to go onto a possible path of redemption or self-realization.

However, that progress is forcibly stopped and reverted by Hanneman justifying her actions and recontextualizing them in a morally good light. In fact, the entire story does this, as characters act wildly out of character in order for Edelgard to be seen as good in comparison to them. Focusing on the quoted lines, however, Hanneman relating him giving up nobility and going into momentary poverty - whether true to canon or not - to Edelgard's war actively paints her actions as something that she had a right to be making, which she does not, as they force others to make sacrifices for her cause. When she herself rightfully points this discrepancy out, Hanneman excuses her actions by pointing to another - supposed - source of turmoil and essentially saying "You are more right than x, therefore your y actions are not only better, but objectively good, and make you a good person." He says nothing of the inherent injustice of taking away the choice of the people to live as they want and fight for who they want as well as deliberately taking away any semblance of safety from them, and makes objective statements about Edelgard's moral righteousness despite her taking actions that would, by definition, make her moral righteousness a subjective matter at minimum.

Hanneman is projecting the image of his sister and his own personal sense of justice onto Edelgard, and thus sees her as just as much a victim of the war and society as everyone else. Edelgard is a young woman who has gone through trauma due to Crests, as was his sister, and he himself (in this story, though not within the quoted lines) wanted to beat the man who abused his sister to death, and so he sees Edelgard using violence as a means to achieve justice as not only not questionable, but morally good and brave, as he felt he was not brave enough to enact "justice" onto the man that caused his sister's death. Instead of this being settled, focused on, or even mentioned, despite its obvious nature due to deliberate connections Hanneman himself makes, it is used as a means to showcase that Hanneman is a, for lack of a better term, "expert" on what he is saying when speaking to Edelgard. He knows what it's like to want to force change, he has by-proxy experienced the apparent injustice of the Church - not human society, not his family's decision to allow his sister to be married off, not the man who caused her death's decision to discard her, but strictly the Church and only the Church - and so he can "rightfully" justify and excuse Edelgard's morally questionable actions and paint them in a solely positive light, with no nuance or gray whatsoever.

Edelgard, in the first quote, attempts to say her actions without a tone of self-pity, and yet the narrative itself pities Edelgard. She should be allowed to feel bad about her actions - not because they are causing unfathomable suffering on people who were underserving, but because they’re just hard decisions that she was good and brave to make and maybe she can feel a little bad for herself for making them. She shouldn't feel responsible for choosing to start the war - in fact, did she really have a choice, or did everyone else in society force her to? She shouldn't question whether she's a good person or not, because she simply is - no debate, no question. She is - “justly” - standing up against "moral rot"; that she does so with even more moral rot is irrelevant, because, according to the story, it is not as rotten as that she's up against, therefore it is no longer rotten in the first place. War has been completely justified, as it is now not the last resort of desperation that could only ever be morally grey at its absolute best, but an objectively morally white decision of an objectively morally white person who is facing an objectively morally black opponent.

The actions of other characters attempt to paint Edelgard as someone closer to the former, but I will - maybe - eventually go over how those characters are extremely mischaracterized in order to prop Edelgard as their moral superior. 

[girl-in-the-tower]

WHY I LOVE THE SCARABIA CM AND YOU SHOULD TOO

Listen, I don’t even know why you’d actually need to look for a reason to love and cherish this beautiful piece of animation, but to each their own. Regardless, you’re in the right place, because I’m about to gush and cry over this CM just to convince you to show it the same level of love that I feel for it. It’ll be difficult, but don’t worry, I’ll be there with you the entire time. So, let’s start with the beginning. 

What makes this CM different from the others? Well, let’s look at the most obvious aspect: it’s narrated by two people, instead of just the Overblot victim like in the case of the Heartslaybyul, Savanaclaw and Octavinelle. There we had only Riddle, Leona and Azul speak because, obviously, as the Prefects and shadows of the villains they would be the most important characters. You could call that antagonist privileges if you want, but there’s a reason a show with a big cast doesn’t go in depth with every single one of their characters. Not only would it be infeasible, but also useless. Narratives need a point of focus, otherwise they end up disjointed and incomprehensible. 

So why didn’t this CM just have Jamil narrate? He’s the antagonist of chapter 4, after all. Shouldn’t he get his own moment in the spotlight, separate from Kalim? Well, yes and no. For you see, the thing about Scarabia is that unlike other dorms the relationship between the Prefect and vice dorm leader is much more complicated. By which I mean that no other vice dorm leader is an indentured servant to the family of their dorm’s Prefect. Trey is Riddle’s childhood friend, Ruggie sticks with Leona because it gives him a better chance for survival, the Leech twins stay with Azul out of curiosity, Rook admires Vil, Ortho is Idia’s little brother (?) and Lilia has served as Malleus’ parental figure.

(Also, yes, I’m counting Ruggie and Ortho as vice dorm leaders since that’s basically their role anyways.)

None of them are bound to their Prefect. Trey has a life outside of Riddle, Ruggie will drop Leona like a sack of potatoes if the latter gets too much to deal with, the Leech twins EXPLICITLY say that they will turn on Azul if they get bored, Rook actually points out Vil’s flaws to his face, Ortho doesn’t let his brother get away with everything and Lilia’s position is more of a trusted family friend, than an actual guard/babysitter. The point I’m trying to make is that all these people have choices when it comes to their relationships with their respective Prefects. They stay by their side out of their own will and not because someone is forcing them to be there. 

The same doesn’t apply to Jamil. He can’t just decide to leave Kalim’s side one day, because he was getting sick of looking after him. And that’s because he didn’t have a choice in being by his side in the first place. That decision was made for him by his parents. Because that’s how indentured servitude works: when you’re in the service of a lord, especially if you’re a poor peasant, your period of time decided upon entering the contract tends to extend to future generations as well since you’re not given any money to save. Most peasants that found themselves in such positions often would marry and start a family while still in the service of their lord and should they die, their family, unable to provide for themselves because their whole life was spent doing unpaid labour, will also enter the same contract. This process would go on until either slavery, which this most certainly is, was banned or the lord decided to set you free. The former was much preferable to the latter, because in a feudal system to be set free by your lord often marked you as an undesirable servant. You would be hard pressed to find a lord that would ‘hire’ you after finding out your former ‘employee’ decided to ‘fire’ you. So it would be very rare for indentured servants to actually manage to free themselves from that position. 

This is precisely where Jamil’s frustration arises from as well. As a capable individual, he’s acutely aware of the limitations his status imposes on him. He’s a servant of the Asim family from birth, much like his parents and grandparents were before him. This is not something he chose for himself, but rather something that was imposed upon him. Herein lies the central issue that defines Jamil’s character: lack of choice. Much more than any character, Jamil’s life is governed by the limitations that arise due to his social position. We see that ever since his childhood he was forced to always take into consideration Kalim’s abilities and model his performance as not to eclipse him in any way. If Kalim placed second place in a dancing competition, Jamil must not be among the top three. If Kalim’s grades slipped, his own grades must as well. If Kalim lost two times in a row at mancala, Jamil must make sure he loses the next three games. Yet, paradoxically enough he mustn’t fall behind too much either, for that would make him a useless servant. And as I pointed out before, inept servants are not considered desirable by those in power. 

It is in essence a balancing act that Jamil must make sure he adheres to strictly, as not to bring shame to the Asim family to whom he is, in theory, loyal. In relation to Kalim, Jamil must make sure he performs poorly, but in relation to others he must make sure he performs well. It’s that precise position between exceptional and ordinary that he must achieve, and according to Azul, Jamil is excelling at that.

Azul: You usually never make yourself stand out—A wallflower, so to speak.

You make sure not to stand out academically, too. Whether it’s with class standing, or with practical training. But, at the same time…

You never get failing scores. (4-37)

Yet the question we must ask is why? Why must Jamil follow these demands? 

Well, for one it’s the issue of the indentured servant that we have discussed before. Jamil is bound to the Asims and going against them will bring repercussions not only on himself, but on his family as well. In the modern age in which Twisted Wonderland seems to be set in, this would not be much of an issue, we would guess. However, while that might be true, we must consider it not only from a logical perspective, but a psychological one as well. The human brain is fascinating in the sense in which it is able to transform information into patterns. And nowhere is this most apparent than in the impregnation of cultural norms into the mind. We tend to think of some things as innately ‘normal’ and ‘ordinary’ and everything that goes against those beliefs as ‘perverse’ and ‘immoral’. For example, up until a few decades ago, the idea of women as second-class citizens was seen as a perfectly reasonable notion. Those that did not agree with it were considered troublemakers and agitators, and if there’s anything the human individual loves more conformity, it’s ensuring that it’s enacted upon the population at large. The nail that sticks out gets the hammer, as the saying goes. 

But what does this have to do with Jamil? Well, the fact is that his role, as Kalim’s servant, comes with certain social expectations. 

Jamil: Kalim’s parents were always better than my parents. That’s why… Kalim should be better than me, too. That’s why, I could never surpass Kalim when it comes to studying, exercise, and even playing— (4-36)

The role of a servant is that of support. The Master leads while they provide the conditions and the means to do that. That is precisely the position that the Viper family is supposed to take in relation to the Asim family. For a servant to surpass his master, it leads to a deeply problematic realization: that one’s status is divorced from one’s capacity. Medieval rule was often characterized by monarchs assigning themselves as God’s anointed on Earth. Their right to the throne was not ensured by their capacity or disposition or ideals, but simply by their nature. They were meant to rule, because of the social class and family they were born into. Nothing less, nothing more. It was instinctively understood that there was a great differentiation between them and the common people and that was translated in their position as those to be considered ‘elevated’. They did not mingle with the common folk, because that was beneath them. 

And unfortunately, that is a cultural inheritance that is not easily done away with. For though we might claim we left behind the days of feudalism and vassals, there is still a great divide between social classes. It merely took a different form. Lords of the castle turned into politicians, celebrities and glamorous multimillionaires. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, as Shakespeare would put it. Call it what you will, but the end result is that social divide still exists. And we can see that is the case in Twisted Wonderland as well.

Though the game tends to gloss over it in certain aspects, by having Leona’s reception by the main student body be as that of a lazy Prefect, and Malleus’s position is often eclipsed by his elusive attitude, it is constantly made clear that Kalim is someone with an important social background. We might have to be reminded that Leona is the second prince of the Afterglow Savannah, or that Malleus is the next king of the Valley of Thorns, but we aren’t offered the same discretion with Kalim’s character. He is almost always introduced as Kalim, the heir of a multimillionaire family. It is thus impossible to separate him from this title, and by extension, Jamil as well. Whether he likes it or not, as the servant of the Asims, Jamil is tethered to Kalim by being a part of his social image. No true Master can exist without servants, and no servants can be had without a Master. The two are reliant on each other, much like Kalim and Jamil are reliant on the other to define their position in life. 

Kalim is the son of a wealthy family because he has Jamil to prove his special status. Jamil is a servant of the Asim family because he has someone to serve. But whether he wants to be part of this system and have his identity be defined by this connection is out of his hands. And that’s the truly unbearable notion that Jamil has to deal with in his chapter: no matter what he does he is never in control of his own life. It’s always something that is decided for him.

This, in itself, is not coincidental I would say. You see, besides being interesting social commentary, it is also an unexpected look into the underlying themes of Disney’s Aladdin. If we were asked to describe what the movie is about, I think it’s safe to say most of us would cite “poor street-rat learns a valuable lesson about not pretending to be someone else and marries the princess” as the answer. And we would not be wrong. It’s obvious that “Be Yourself” is one of the most important lessons Disney wanted to teach to young children and this in itself is not a bad thing. But while these might be understood as genuine life advice at a young age, as adults we often tend to look more closely into the themes and motifs of the movies that shaped our childhoods. And thus I would argue that Aladdin is more than just a story about interclass romance, but rather a look into how the social class system functions as a whole. Aladdin, the main hero, is a street urchin with no money to his name. Jasmine, the heroine, is the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the land. Their romance and subsequent marriage is interpreted as a victory over a flawed and classist system, because they managed to surpass the limitations imposed upon them by society and ‘be themselves’. And though this is a heartwarming message to see performed on screen, it’s important to remember that there are more than just the protagonists in the story. Alongside them we have three more characters we must pay close attention to: the Sultan, Jafar and the Genie. 

To do a short summary:

The Sultan: Jasmine’s father and the most powerful man in the country, but rather bumbling and childishly naive. As is typical with Disney parents who are still alive by the start of the movie, he is a figure that possesses authority merely in name. Though kind and generally well disposed, he lacks any real power when it comes to the plot of the movie being tricked by both Jafar and Aladdin, as Prince Ali, and ultimately having to rely on the latter to be saved from the former. The Sultan is the quintessential look at a spoiled monarch whose rule is being facilitated by someone more competent than him, and this informs most of his character as a result. He himself might be a doting and benevolent figure, yet his reign is a prosperous one by accident not by his own making.

The Genie: The spirit who resides in the lamp that Aladdin finds in the Cave of Wonders and who becomes his ally in his quest to marry Jasmine. Perhaps one of the most memorable characters in the movie, thanks to the late William Robbins’ performance, Genie's entire quest in the movie is to achieve freedom by helping out his Master. The parallels between him and the indentured servant position are made abundantly clear by the fact that he is bound to Aladdin until the latter agrees to set him free. Genie’s role in the story is one that is important, but his position is one that mirrors Jafar: they are in the service of someone who is less than them, whether it be competence or magical ability. However, while Jafar detests his position and the Sultan, Genie becomes a father figure to the protagonist. The fact that the two exchange places (Jafar is turned into a Genie and imprisoned, Genie being set free and retaining all his powers) stems directly from how they relate to their social class. Jafar is self-serving and ambitious and Genie is altruistic and self-sacrificial. Genie thinks of the happiness of his Master, though he is still displeased by the concept itself, and for that he is rewarded, proving that putting the well-being of others above your interests is the way to happiness after all. That is, if you’re a Disney hero.

Jafar: The Grand Vizier and the second most powerful man in the land, but is a scheming backstabber that plans to take the throne for himself. As one of the most easily recognizable Disney villains, Jafar makes a strong impression through not only his design, but through his philosophy as well. He’s in spite of his high rank, still pretty much a servant, having to ensure that the rule of the Sultan is enacted accordingly. Yet, as an antagonist he makes certain that whatever he does is in his own interest as well. To say that he is ambitious would be an understatement, but what is it that he wants exactly? There is no clear answer, but the closest we can get to is that Jafar wants power. 

But wait, you might say. Didn’t Aladdin also want that? Why is only Jafar the villain, if they were both after the same thing?

That is a good question! And the answer to it is yes and no. Though indeed, both Jafar and Aladdin wanted power it was for different purposes. Aladdin wanted it for the sake of overcoming his social limitations and thus becoming a worthy candidate for Jasmine, while Jafar wanted power for power’s sake. The lesson that Aladdin learns is that he shouldn’t have attempted to do that, because it would have never worked out in the way he intended it to. Though Jasmine can bring herself down to his level, he cannot bring himself up to hers since it would disrupt the social system. One cannot rise up to a higher social standing through power alone, they need recognition as well. Which is why marrying Jasmine becomes an important plot point. Jafar, who achieved power through his scheming, still lacks the recognition, which can only be granted through marriage to a royal or someone of higher social standing. He fails to achieve it, because his rise in social ranks did not have a ‘noble’ purpose like Aladdin’s but it merely satisfied his own agenda and needs.

Jafar’s status as a villain is thus due to the fact that in Western media ‘Ambition Is Evil’ is one of the most prevalent tropes. Think of the Becky Sharps, the Slytherins, the Lucifers, the Littlefingers that populate our literature, their evil nature is more often than not tied to their necessity to rise above others. 

To reign is worth ambition though in hell; 

Better to reign in hell than serve in heaven. (Paradise Lost)

Power corrupts, and ambition corrupts absolutely. Disney characters thus often learn that it is better not to be swayed by power from their role in society for the sake of power, or they will pay the heavy price for doing so. That is why Jafar fails and Genie succeeds, because they related differently to their role in their Master’s lives. 

And that is a theme that Twisted Wonderland also touches upon in Jamil’s story. Twisted from Jafar itself it was inevitable that his story would deal with such a topic. However, what deeply impressed me was how self-aware the narrative had been in regards to it. 

Ruggie: I feel bad for you. By helping out Kalim you have burned your hands considerably. (R Card School Uniform)

Jamil: I want to avoid standing out. I can’t be satisfied with this. I cannot be too good, nor fall behind, and neither should I get satisfactory grades or fail. This is the best shortcut to success. (SR Card Lab Coat)

Jamil: I am a sworn servant to the house of Asim and thus have a duty to protect the master. (SR Card Ceremony Robes)

Azul: You are always welcome in Octavinelle should you find yourself freed from Kalim. (5-10)

The matter of Jamil’s role as Kalim’s caretaker is one that has been brought up at several points throughout the game. This is usually done with the express purpose of reinforcing his status as his servant, but also to affirm that it is indeed this very position that is preventing him from achieving his full potential. 

Azul: If you look at your grades, there are no visible gaps in your classroom lectures, practical skills and physical training. Even I have a weak point when it comes to flying… For you to not even have such an instability is frankly amazing. It is like you can tailor yourself to suit your needs. (SR Card Lab Coat)

Just as Azul remarks Jamil holds himself back on account of his need to perfectly perform a certain persona: the reliable valet. It is a character we often see in media disguised as the Hypercompetent Sidekick or Servile Snarker, who is by his very nature much more accomplished than the master, but must out of financial necessity submit himself to someone else. Or in Jamil’s case, out of filial obligation. And this is where the comparison with Jafar becomes important because while Jamil does embody Jafar’s ambition, it is not treated in the same manner as in the movie. Jamil’s motives for betraying Kamil are similar to the villain: he wants to impose himself upon others and overcome his social position. Having been raised in servitude since young he has been forced to ‘tailor himself’ to the demands and expectations placed upon him. However, because this position has been imposed upon him and it wasn’t of his own volition, Jamil comes to resemble the genie much more than he does Jafar. Which is completely intentional, I believe. But we’ll get to that soon enough. 

Taking this into consideration it is interesting to note how the resolution of Jamil’s arc differs from Jafar’s in terms of narrative. The end of Aladdin has us witness the defeat of Jafar at the hands of Aladdin, his imprisonment in the lamp and the release of the genie from his bonds of servitude. It is, of course, a typical Disney happy ending: the villain was defeated by his own hubris, while the heroes prevailed through self-sacrifice and cleverness. The main character has learned the necessary moral lesson (cynically phrased as: do not aspire to overcome your social class through hard work, but wait for recognition from your superiors) and all the characters that aided them during their journey get rewarded as well. It’s the culmination of the Disney formula that selflessness and altruism are the values that separate the heroes from villains, and by extension good from evil. Evil only seeks its own interests, while good works in the interests of others. So what about Jamil?

The end of the Scarabia arc is quite ‘Disney’ to a certain degree: the villain has been exposed, the heroes send to the other end of the ‘world’, they get their second wind, defeat him and live happily ever after. Well, not really. You see, what happens before the heroes go to defeat the antagonist is that Kalim breaks down crying due to Jamil’s betrayal and Azul remarks the following thing:

Azul: Kalim’s gentle disposition towards others is completely different from Jamil and I… No… Taking into account everything, he probably built a grudge over the years. You have been causing trouble for Jamil since you were little, after all. However, you are not in the wrong. You were born a cut above the others. You were loved by everyone around you and we were raised under such a good environment.

You were simply unaware of the greed you’ve been showing. (4-34)   

Jamil’s actions aren’t excused, because they are indeed those of a villain: plotting, backstabbing and double-crossing the heroes for his own gains. Yet, they are not simply attributed to his ‘evil’ nature, but rather explained by the environment in which he was raised and the morals that were instilled in him. Jamil is not evil, but rather merely desperate enough to resort to evil means. And that is a profusely important distinction. Though we might commit malicious acts that does not mean that we are malicious by nature, much as committing benevolent acts does not make one irreproachable. And Twisted Wonderland understands this notion: not in the sense that Jamil was right in what he did, but rather than we can understand why he felt like he was pushed to such extremes. 

Jamil’s story is one of the more complex ones, in my opinion. It speaks about an issue much deeper and much more insidious than any that have been explored so far in the game. The result is that unlike the other three previous Overblot victims, Jamil has no clear-cut solution to his problem. Even after the incident he is still in the service of the Asim family. Even if Kalim asserts that they are equals at school, he still will remain a servant everywhere else. No matter what he does he is bound to the Asim’s and more specifically to Kalim. 

I feel like this would be the note on which I should safely conclude this very long introduction, as we move further and into the real meat of this post: the analysis itself. Thus, without further ado, let’s see why this CM is such a treat from a symbolical and storytelling perspective.

The opening of Aladdin (1992) is perhaps one of my favorites due to the fact that it seeks out to reference its source material: One Thousand and One Nights. By that I mean that it utilizes a technique known as the ‘frame story’: a story which contains within it another story. In the novel the framing device is Scheherezade, the vizier’s daughter who upon learning that she will marry Sultan Shahryar and be promptly killed at dawn, devised a plan to subvert her fate. She would each night begin a tale that would leave the Sultan so enchanted that he postponed her beheading until the next day so she might finish her tale. However, upon finishing the previous story Scheherezade would continue with another one and so on and so on until she eventually managed to avoid death for one thousand and one nights. Hence the name of the collection. 

Aladdin uses a similar device in the character of the Merchant who appears at the start of the movie and introduces us, the viewers, to the world of Agrabah which is a place “where they cut off your ear if they don’t like your face” according to the original lyrics of the song. But it also includes a shot at the end of the movie which has the Genie lift up the ‘wallpaper’ and speak directly to the audience. These scenes, though easy to disregard, do reinforce the fact that the movie we’re about to see is not taking place as it happens, but rather a second-hand account of it. Much like Scheherezade attempts to avoid her decapitation, so does the Merchant at the start of the movie attempt to convince us to give the story a try, become immersed and then abruptly reminded of the fictionality of what we have just witnessed. And I don’t mean in the sense that it is a movie, but rather in the sense that even within the logic of the movie, this whole set of events has a certain fictionality to it. The fact that initial plans had the Genie and the Merchant be the same character only strengthens this notion. 

But the Scarabia CM doesn’t start with the Merchant now, does it? No, it does not. But rather it starts with the very first image of the movie itself: purple smoke against a red flaming background. Except that there is no red flaming background this time, but a calming blue shot of the dunes with what appears to be the Scarabia dorm building in the background, or even Agrabah itself. There is no smoke either but sparkling dust that emanates from a lamp half-buried into the sand. The images are clearly meant to evoke the general aesthetic of Aladdin (1992), but they can also be interpreted symbolically. 

The imagery of smoke is often one of ascension, of leaving the earthly shackles and rising higher towards the spiritual world. But it is also a rather solemn symbol as well, given that it can also be associated with the burning of corpses. Its presence in the movie is explained by the fact that this is after all a story about liberation: most obviously the Genie’s, but also the other characters. Everybody wants to be free in some form or another. The colour symbolism is also interesting to remark upon as according to Richard Vander Wende, the production designer of the original film, certain colours have different meanings within the movie. Red symbolizes heat and evil, while blue is a calm colour associated with water. The red background thus carries negative connotations, but it is eclipsed by the presence of the smoke in the foreground, that is a combination of red and blue. If we were to interpret this visual choice we could claim that the movie is trying to let us know that the story we are about to watch is one in which morally-grey protagonists overcome the forces of evil. For, even though Aladdin is our main character, he is not a pure hero by Disney standards as he is after all a thief and the lesson he has to learn is that he should not attempt to scam his way into a better social position. 

But the Scarabia CM uses a blue background instead, so this is certainly not the same message it might try to send. Rather, due to the positioning of Scarabia/Agrabah in the background, I believe that it is indeed a story about rising above, but not above the forces of evil as much as above social norms accepted as standards. The Scarabia storyline is very much centered around the notion of social positions and how they function within a system of indentured servitude, as is obvious through the way in which Jamil attempts to overcome the position of servant through schemes and planning. We most certainly encounter the thread of evil within his character, but though his methods are unsavory, his end is, I would say, understandable: freedom. 

Jamil: For me, and my family... I'll do anything for our sake!!! (4-31)

Jamil: I’m done playing servant!! I WILL BE FREE—!! (4-32)

The choice of a blue background might thus allude not necessarily to goodness as in the moral concept itself, but rather to the comfort of social norms. There is a certain stability to be had in a system that declares that all those born into wealthy families shall remain wealthy, and all those born into servant families should remain servants. To quote Aladdin: “It’s barbaric, but hey, it’s home.” (Arabian Nights) In such a system that relies on absolute conventions regarding social classes, someone like Jamil is a threat, because he questions and subverts the limitations imposed upon him. He is smarter and more capable than Kalim, yes, but because he must ensure that he does not draw negative attention upon himself, he is forced to adhere to a lifestyle that is not representative to whom he truly is. The similar shape of Scarabia and Agrabah only serves to highlight that regardless of his environment, as long as he remains a servant through his bond to the Asims, he shall never be able to change his destiny.

The lamp is the most important object in Aladdin (1992) as it is the MacGuffin that is coveted by Jafar and the prison of the all powerful entity that is Genie. The lamp in the movie has thus two connotations: power and imprisonment. The juxtaposition between the two creates an interesting image of how power changes according to one’s position in society. Though Genie’s powers are indeed great it seems that he is incapable of wishing himself free, which is I think a good analogy to the position of indentured servitude in which only a lord’s permission would be capable of restoring an individual’s freedom, even though they would be in theory capable of physically leaving their place of servitude. Their choice not to is not only a reflection of the possible corporal punishment they would endure if captured, but also due to the social contract that forced them to remain in that position. As servants they would remain branded forever as second-class citizens at best or dangerous felons at worst. Not a fate one would ever wish upon themselves in those days. 

It is clear that besides Jafar, Jamil also bears quite a lot of similarities to Genie.

It’s like being the genie of the lamp, calling me anytime and anywhere. (Jamil Chat 1)

As I mentioned above, Disney draws an interesting parallel between Jafar and Genie when it comes to relating towards their ‘superiors’: Jafar despises the Sultan and wishes to disposes of him, while Genie forms a parental bond with Aladdin and even reluctantly agrees to remaining bound to the lamp if it means his ward’s happiness. The fact that they exchange positions at the end (Jafar being imprisoned in the lamp, Genie being freed) is the result of the moral choices they make. Genie’s altruism is what allows him to be freed, while Jafar’s ambition is what traps him as thus is the rule of Western philosophy: the needs of the others are superior to our own. 

But ignoring Jamil’s OB for now, we realize that he does not truly commit to either one of those positions. He is resentful of his enslavement at the hands of the Asims, but I believe he does not genuinely wish harm upon Kalim himself, but rather towards the system as a whole, which is represented by him. This is an idea we’ll return to eventually, but it is important to mention it in advance, because it paints a better picture of what Jamil’s true intentions were during his attempt to take over Scarabia. It was not power for power’s sake as in the case of Jafar, but rather him trying to assert control over an aspect of his life, which in this case would be his position within the dorm. Jamil isn’t truly interested in the position of Prefect as is, but in what it symbolizes: freedom. As Aladdin shows power is not synonymous to freedom, but rather something adjacent to it. Even a most powerful creature like Genie is bound to the whims and wishes of a mere mortal, much like Jamil is bound to those of Kalim. To overthrow him as Prefect would mean to assert himself as independent of social bonds by having no one be superior to him anymore. Yet, because he does it through immoral means he fails and thus keeps in line with the moral of the movie: you cannot advance socially without the approval of your superiors.

The moon is one of the most referenced symbols in literature due to the fact that it innately appeals to writers and poets alike. It is fundamentally female in nature, due to its connection to the Roman Diana and the Greek Artemis, and associated as a result either with the concept lunacy, to which it lent its name, as well as with witchcraft, solitude, power and change. The moon’s circular shape as observed from Earth is also associated with the notion of eternity and cyclicity, which is perhaps the symbol that is of most interest to us when it comes to Western interpretation, as in Japanese culture the moon can represent a person’s core, unaffected by others. It is more succinctly put a representation of the Self, that which is considered quintessential to one’s identity. And it is this imagery which the CM tends to gravitate towards I would argue.

The moon is a particularly prominent symbol in Aladdin (1992) as it symbolizes the notion of change and new beginnings. Aladdin and Jasmine’s flight during the song sequence “A Whole New World” uses the moon as a backdrop and confers upon it a romantic aura of serenity and calmness, which is referenced towards the end of the movie wherein they fly towards it upon their success at convincing Jasmine’s father to allow their marriage. The moon in this regard is symbolic of unity and fortune, synonymous with true love’s conquest over everything else. But there is also a comedic twist to it as seen in the very last scene of the movie wherein Genie’s face is projected upon it. It is thus primarily a positive symbol associated with goodness.

The CM however is closer in meaning to the notion of the moon as the human core observed in solitude. Unlike the moon in Aladdin, whose shadows are barely perceptible and thus looks more natural, the moon here is overtly engulfed by darkness, with the sole space of light providing a sharp contrast in tone. It is not a symbol of unity, but rather of division creating barriers and boundaries between the characters who are positioned at opposite ends of the circle. Kalim, as a superior in terms of social and financial power, is situated upon the side that shines brighter to symbolize his role as the face of the dorm. He is the Prefect, the one that represents his dorm and the ideals that it is founded upon. Yet, upon further inspection we notice that the word ‘Scarabia’ appears on Jamil’s side, which is not only the dark part, but also takes more space. It is an unequal division but so is much of their life: Jamil remains in Kalim’s shadow, though it is only due to the former’s help that the latter manages to shine as a Prefect. This is confirmed by the positioning of their dorm’s name on Jamil’s side, as he is in fact the one that more overtly exhibits the ideals of careful planning that the Sorcerer of the Hot Lands is known for.  

Kalim’s face change is interesting if we consider the notion of the moon representing the human core on which one’s identity is formed, because it confirms that he is indeed as cheerful as he appears to be. His cheerful disposition though likened to the image of the sun, lacks the usual masculine and aggressive features associated with it in Western culture, as he tends towards more feminine ideals of pacifism and serenity, which are associated with the moon. Moreover, as it has been pointed out to me, if one is to consider the Japanese cultural context we would be able to observe that the feminine characteristics of the sun are in perfect accordance with the female interpretation of the star in the form of Amaterasu. His body language is relaxed and openly friendly and there’s nothing about him that truly stands out in terms of contradictions. 

Jamil on the other hand presents an entirely different picture. His stance is guarded, that much is certain, and his expression is to be considered at best wooden. Unlike Kalim’s dynamic movement, he remains static and unchanging, sporting merely a look of resigned indulgence towards Kalim, and it seems to a certain extent as if he asserts control over his own reaction towards it. In other words, it is not in the slightest bit natural. Moreover, what does attract our attention is not his expression as in the case of Kalim, but rather the shine of the metal of his choker. 

Unlike Kalim which is bathed in light in warmth, Jamil is surrounded by dark and shadows, with the sole point of light being the metal around his neck. This is different from Kalim whose accessories do not stand out in the same vein. The reason is that on a fundamental level they represent entirely different notions. In Kalim’s case it is a representation of his wealth and power, with the lack of focus on them hinting perhaps to the fact that he is at ease with his position as the heir of a multimillionaire family. It does not stand out because that is his right by birth and thus just a natural part of himself. Jamil’s core, on the other hand, reveals that his identity is very much forged by the Viper’s bond to the Asims. 

Jamil: I’ve been looking after Kalim ever since we were kids. That’s the Viper family’s duty. (Jamil R School Uniform Lines)

In Kalim’s case the accessories are just that: accessories. But in Jamil’s case they are a mark of servitude. They stand out among the darkness because this is how he perceives his own persona: dominated by the image of the loyal servant who is socially inferior to his master. Even the metal itself seems to have a silver tint, rather than gold, symbolizing that even though he and Kalim should be equal (both sporting gold chokers) reality is very much different, since he is forced to be subservient even though it goes against his instincts.

It is interesting to note that in Aladdin (1992) the notion of space and how it relates to characters plays a significant part. Agrabah, the setting of the movie, is a place of social division in which those of lower status live in poverty, financial distress and crowded spaces, whereas those of a higher status enjoy the luxury and the vast space provided by the palace. Compare the streets of Agrabah during “One Jump Ahead” which are constantly filled with people, objects and animals and project an image of recurring chaos, to the quiet serenity of the palace where the Sultan and Jasmine live. The contrast is staggering. But more than that it is indicative how much social class can make a difference. 

It is also interesting to note that with the exception of the Sultan, all characters have at some point transversed these two spaces: Jafar and Aladdin move between the city, the palace and the desert, Jasmine sneaks into the city in order to experience real life and the Genie has access to a fourth space in the form of the lamp. However, the Sultan always remains within the palace walls. The reason for that is rather obvious: it is the seat of power and to leave it would be to admit to inferiority in regards to his position. Unlike the other characters that long for something more, the Sultan is content in his role as representative of financial and social power. He does not need to switch locations, because his static nature is what allows the other characters to progress in their journey. 

The CM builts on this premise as well, by showing us the very different worldviews that Kalim and Jamil experience. Fulfilling the role of Sultan, Kalim is surrounded by luxury and comfort, as he rests in his room at the dorm. The colours are warm and calming, as the light very gently illuminates the room in order to cause an impression of coziness, which fits perfectly with his own character. Kalim’s personality is at its core a ‘refreshing’ one, orientated towards creating harmony and a content attitude. All his life was spent among servants that catered to his every whim and desire, so his sense of independence was greatly stifled. If we may put in blunt terms, he’s sleeping through life, relying entirely on his social position due not necessarily to laziness, but rather naivety. Because he never had to leave the palace walls, he never had to develop any sense of autonomy and thus has managed to remain faithful to his social role. He does not experience a sensation of contradiction between who he is and who he is regarded as because he lives in accordance to the characteristics deemed appropriate for him as a member of the elite.

The same cannot be said for Jamil. Juxtaposed with Kalim’s scene we see Jamil walking through the desert as the harsh light shines upon him. There is no comfort to be found in this particular shot. Whereas Kalim is sleeping peacefully and at ease, unaware of the difficulties of life, Jamil is wide awake. Unlike the former, the latter’s life is dictated by restrictions and hardships, all which he has to endure without showing displeasure as befitting his social role. He does not have the privilege of laying around not only due to the demands that are made of him, but also due to his innate desire for change. The desert can thus very easily symbolize the unfairness which he has to endure as a servant, but it can also symbolize his ambition and the effort he is willing to spend on making sure he can change his social status. Unlike Kalim, who rests in the palace, Jamil seeks to escape its confines even if it means enduring hardship. For you see, though the palace is indeed a place of stability, it is also a prison.

The similarities between Agrabah’s palace and the Scarabia dorm building are most certainly intentional. They’re places of unimaginable wealth that function as status symbols for the people that control them. Agrabah is, as we mentioned before, heavily divided, but it is paradoxically the slums that offer more freedom than the palace itself. Looking back at the movie we notice that the biggest symbol we can associate with Jasmine is the bird in the cage yearning to be free. The notion, moreover, is also supported by imagery such as setting the birds free after a talk with her father and, as it had also been pointed out by other critics, that the canopy of her bed is designed to resemble a birdcage. As a princess Jasmine is bound by social roles and conventions to adhere to the expectations placed upon her, and her journey in the movie is to assert herself as an autonomous person before her father by insisting that she be allowed to make her own choices. The problem however lies with the word ‘allow’ itself which once again contradicts her ideals. The notion of allowing someone to do what they want situates the power in the hands of the person who is recognized as the social superior. In the case of Jasmine, it is her father, the Sultan. In the case of Jamil, it is the Asims. 

The Scarabia dorm as a symbol of the prison is an obvious one due to the fact that it served as such for Grim and Yuu during episode 4. But that is what we might refer to as physical confinement, which at its core is not compatible with the message of the CM and even of the movie. Because the CM does not focus on Grim and Yuu, but on Jamil and Kalim, so this is not a case of a physical prison, but rather a mental one I would argue.

In several respects, the prison must be an exhaustive disciplinary apparatus: it must assume responsibility for all aspects of the everyday individual, his physical training, his aptitude to work, his conduct, his moral attitude, his state of mind; the prison, much more a than the school, the or the army, which always involved workshop certain specialization, is 'omni-disciplinary'. Moreover, the prison has neither exterior nor gap; it cannot be interrupted, except when its task is totally completed; its action on the individual must be uninterrupted: an unceasing discipline. Lastly, it gives almost total power over the prisoners; it has its internal mechanisms of repression and punishment: a despotic discipline. It carries to their greatest intensity all the procedures to be found in the other disciplinary mechanisms. (Foucault 235-236)

Foucault’s Discipline and Punishment: The Birth of the Prison is an interesting look into the social and theoretical mechanisms employed by prisons in order to ‘reform’ convicts. The end goal of these institutions is to reintegrate the individual into society and to achieve such a thing it is not necessary just to punish and torment them, but to discipline them. By this Foucault understood as allowing one’s life to be entirely dictated by “a disciplinary apparatus” decided by those within power. It’s main aim was to restructure one into a “docile body” beneficial for the economical and political necessities of that specific age, which in many cases referred to the idea of one being content to pursue the interests of the state and those that governed it. 

I bring this up because I can see the same ideas reflected in Jamil’s character arc as well. Foucault mentions that the prison is a space in which discipline is uninterrupted and unceasing. In other words it is a space which constantly reinforces the ideals that are considered desirable, and we can see that Scarabia unintentionally functions the same way. It is a space in which Jamil is cast as inferior to Kalim once again, trapped into the position of Vice Prefect, despite the fact that he embodies the ideals of the dorm more than he does. Though this is a different place, his routine has remained unchanged: he must still cater to Kalim’s wishes and perform the role of the servant, despite the fact that in theory the two of them should be equal now.

Scarabia Student B: Our family standing and status shouldn’t matter inside the school! We’re all equal here, right? (4-18)

Under normal circumstances, Night Raven College is supposed to be a neutral space in terms of social standing. Leona and Malleus are recognized as princes, but are not given any particular attention in terms of political and social superiority, and rather scrutinized due to their peculiar attitudes and personalities. They are, in theory, equal to the other students at the academy and the same should apply to the relationship between Kalim and Jamil as well. But things are not so.

During episode 4 we find an interesting detail about Scarabia: it seems that the building had been renovated once Kalim was accepted into the dorm. This is not usually a detail that would require any particular attention, but it reveals something about the environment in which Jamil resides: it is representative of the Asims. The ostentatiousness and extravagance are the result of their direct influence and thus molded by their own desires. By remodeling the building they have reforged it into an image of their social position and installed a member of its own family as leader. Its neutrality has been compromised and so has Jamil’s attempted escape. Attending Night Raven College is not merely a case of attending one of the best magic schools in the world, but also one of asserting one’s independence. Jamil was given the chance to finally break free from the system that has had him ensnared for all his life, only to have his hopes be dashed by being reminded that in the end the influence of his masters is much greater than he could have anticipated. Thus, Scarabia was turned into a space of imprisonment which perfectly replicates the dynamics of the Asim household and thus denies Jamil any possible form of freedom. Much like Genie and Jafar at the end of the movie, he is unable to escape his prison without the approval of his superiors.

Jamil is aware, however, that he is not and will most likely not ever be able to receive such freedom from the Asims. And consciously he knows he cannot attempt to break free on his own either. 

Jamil: My family, the Viper Household, has been serving the Asim Family since olden times. A retainer drawing his sword against his master is unforgivable. Even more so, if Kalim’s father found out about it, my family will end up being punished. I’m sorry, but I cannot put my family in danger just because of a selfish request. (4-18)

Jamil’s sense of filial duty is one of the driving forces behind his character. It’s not only that he himself wants to be free, but wants his family to be released from their bonds as well. Because the system in which he has been raised permits a master to punish an entire family for the disobedience of one member it becomes understandable why Jamil is such a guarded person. It is not merely his own person that is at stake, but the lives of those he cares about also. It is a thought that has weighed heavily upon his head since young childhood most likely, once he became aware of how exactly the social system set in place works. To go against it would not be an act of brave rebellion, but that of sentencing others to punishment to fulfill his own ambitions. Which for a character twisted from Jafar seems contradictory. Yet we must remember that he has certain traits of Genie as well. Unlike him whose loyalty lies to his Master, Aladdin, Jamil’s loyalty lies to his family. He’s only willing to endure things as they are now due to the fact that rebelling would mean having them suffer the consequences. And Jamil is aware of that.

Yet, it is also necessary to ask the following question: Why does he end up rebelling in the end?

The most obvious answer: accumulated frustration. 

As I stated before, Jamil does not hate Kalim. However, it is also obvious that his Overblot had very much to do with the fact that he had become increasingly irked by the latter’s attitude to life. His critique of Kalim’s character, though harsh, was entirely accurate. Kalim is indeed spoiled and naive to an almost ridiculous degree, even though it is not entirely due to his own fault. Moreover, it is not necessarily these particular traits that Jamil takes issue with, but rather his predilection towards inaction. To briefly reference a previously discussed shot: though Kalim is content in his passivity, Jamil cannot abide by the current system. He desires change, but he knows he is in no position to enact it and is thus frustrated that the one who would be able to perform this task is oblivious to the struggles of those around him. Jamil does not hate Kalim as a person, but rather that which he represents: the power of the system itself. As the CM shows Kalim is able to move forwards, uncaring of limits and boundaries, but uninterested in change (initially) while Jamil, though he desires to advance, is stuck in one spot. 

The brief image of Kalim reflected in the surface of running water captures this concept perfectly. Jamil is not looking at Kalim as he is, but rather as perceives him to be: an unclear image. Water has the same reflective properties of mirrors, but due to their unstable state they cannot portray accurate images. Jamil attributes maliciousness to Kalim’s denseness as not only a means of explaining his actions, but as a way to excuse his own eventual betrayal of him. If Jamil considers Kalim as a representative of the system, he feels justified in his actions and thus more willing to go through with them, since he can project his frustrations upon a material, solid person rather than an abstract entity. Kalim is in a sense a scapegoat for Jamil’s anger.

The snake is laden with multiple meanings being both a manifestation of evil (Satan taking the form of a serpent to trick Eve into sinning) as well as a symbol of rebirth and transformation. In keeping with the colour motif of the movie the serpent staff that Jafar carries with him has eyes which glow red when he’s using it to hypnotize the Sultan to indicate his evil influence upon him. In the CM we have the image of a red snake coiling around Jamil’s feet which is the physical manifestation of all his feelings of dissatisfaction regarding his position as a servant finally bursting apart. But before he is overtaken by those negative feelings we notice interestingly enough that the snake takes the form of an ouroboros: a snake which eats its own tail. A symbol of eternity.

Jamil: I’ve been raised as a retainer to serve his family, so I really can’t understand. A master is a master and a servant will be a servant. Most probably for as long as we’re alive. (4-26)

When discussing Jamil’s character we must admit to a certain cyclicity. Not one he engages in, but rather one in which he is stuck. He is the son of a family that has served the Asims for generations, creating a chain of servants and masters that is currently supposed to be replicated by him and Kalim. His sense of autonomy is constantly denied due to the intervention of forces beyond his control. Moreover, in chapter 4 itself his plans get constantly ruined by either Grim or the Octavinelle Trio, creating a sense that the universe itself has aligned itself in opposition to him. 

But there is more to it still. Jamil is a highly ambitious person, who desires to establish himself through his talent and skill, thus giving him the perfect reason to despise a system that requires some individuals to be subservient to others for arbitrary reasons. However, by his own admission he cannot envision a life outside the system either. This is in essence the insidiousness of such phenomena: they entrap not only the person physically but psychologically as well. Once one’s identity is dependent upon a certain ideology and philosophy of life it is extremely difficult to extract themselves from that mindset. Much like Foucault said, once the mind is disciplined and the individual turns into a ‘docile body’ they become reliant on that particular system in order to form a coherent identity. 

Though Kalim can step outside the bounds and limits imposed upon him, by virtue of his social position, Jamil is only allowed to operate within those boundaries. It is precisely why he stops advancing further once he reaches the end of the round court. Though physically he should be able to overcome such obstacles, mentally he is unable to not. Not as long as he remains under the governance of the Asim family, at the very least. It is obvious however that he cannot simply rise against them, and this realization is what causes him to hit the limit in terms of patience. He finally realizes that he has been robbed of his independence even before he was born.

Jamil: But if I have, it’s better you don’t know what I really think of you. If everything goes to plan… I’ll finally be free. (Scarabia CM)

Sight is an important theme to Jamil’s character as he, much more than any other character perhaps, actively attempts to manipulate the perception of others about him. He is not what he appears as Azul remarks in many of their interactions, and that is because to Jamil allowing himself to be genuine would come with a price: revealing his true feelings regarding his social position. And that, as previously stated, is not something he can afford.

Eyes are often called the ‘windows of the soul’ in the sense that they reflect a person’s true intentions and thoughts. Moreover, the notion of sight is one that literary authors often like to explore in their works. Out of all the senses, sight seems to be considered the most unreliable, since it often fails to discern that which exists in obscurity. The notion is explored in Aladdin (1992) too to a certain degree. Everybody sees only what they desire to see, and because the images they form are so contradictory that it creates misunderstandings and unnecessary conflict. Jafar’s power of hypnotism is even more interesting in this context since by definition it allows him to influence a person’s perception of reality and thus a part of their identity and how they relate to their environment. 

The end of the CM hints towards this notion as well, as we see that the Overblot first manifests itself is his eyes, obscuring his sight from the reality around him. He’s chosen to throw himself into the negative emotions that have finally overtaken him, and as a result given him the power to recreate reality to his discretion. We see the parallel with Genie and Jafar in his Unique Magic as well, since though he possesses one of the most potent powers, he’s still considered an inferior. Jamil’s Overblot is thus one formed by the depressing realization that for as long as he exists within the system, he’ll be forced to endure the continuous cycle of subservience forced upon him since before his birth. His transformation moreover is the result of a desperate yearning for freedom which has driven him to extreme actions. The appearance of the red eyes behind him symbolize more than the eyes of the serpent staff. They are a stark reminder that he is consumed entirely by the realization of his own powerlessness and over-dependence upon the Asims, even if it’s against his desire. 

To note is also the fact that out of all the Overblot victims, Jamil’s expression is the only one that is peaceful. If we take a look at the Heartslaybyul, Savanaclaw and Octavinelle CMs all of the Prefects display either rage or shock during their transformations. It is clear that this process is a horrific one, which explains their reactions, yet strangely enough Jamil seems serene and accepting as if he has come to terms with this course of action. Unlike the Overblot victims before him, his transformation is liberating to a certain degree, because it allows him to finally achieve his goal: get rid of Kalim and instate himself as leader of the dorm. Not because he covets the position itself, but rather because through it he manages to finally become free and unburdened by his social position. In a way, the dark appeal of Overbloting is just that: unlimited power, and for a character like Jamil, who very much lacks this, it is especially hypnotic. 

Out of all the Overblots so far, I consider Jamil’s the most tragic because in the end there seems to be no obvious escape for him, perhaps except in the case of Kalim setting him free. But this is still an event that will happen in a few years at best. It does not answer his current need for autonomy. Yet, despite this we see in chapter 5 that there is indeed some improvement. Though he has refused Kalim’s offer of being friends, he nevertheless has begun acting more like his equal within school grounds and their relationship overall seems less hostile on his end. The fact that much of the action of chapter 5 takes place in Ramshackle Dorm is also an important thing to note as it manages to create a neutral space, untainted by the Asim’s interference. In Vil’s system of meritocracy Jamil is finally able to act as himself and stop performing a role for others, thus he is finally able to assert a degree of autonomy over his own person, which he was not capable of doing before.

Coming now to the ends of this post I think it goes without saying that in terms of narrative cinematography the Scarabia CM is currently unmatched. Though short it manages to give a perfect summary of the themes explored in episode 4, the relationship between Kalim and Jamil and a brief but insightful look into the latter’s psychology and reasons for Overbloting. 

So, there’s really nothing else to do but thank Yana for giving us such a wonderful CM for what I consider the best dorm and best boys in the whole game.  

Additional Links

Indentured Servitude: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qt--B1Y-u6Y

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ti7Kbd6gSIo

Twisted Wonderland, Episode 4: https://kanadesmusingsblog.wordpress.com/2020/06/01/masterpost-twisted-wonderland-episode-4-translations/

Jamil Chats, Personal Stories: https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Jamil_Viper/Personal_Story

https://twisted-wonderland.fandom.com/wiki/Jamil_Viper/Chat

Scarabia CM: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVSx_BvTlmQ

Aladdin (1992) commentary: https://filmschoolrejects.com/38-things-we-learned-from-the-aladdin-commentary-fd9f1d8573b3/

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The peeps over in the Twisted Writings discord know this has been brewing for a while, but I’ve finally managed to sit down, write and edit this monster. It bears witness to the fact that I adore Scarabia more it is healthy (lol). 

Also wanted to thank fellow Scarabia stan buddy @chillableu​ for proofreading and brainroting with me about these boys. You’ve been such a great help and I’m so thankful to you!  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

All the translation sources have been linked in the last section of the commentary.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Awaken

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyunjin (some mentions of Y/N x Seo Changbin)

Word Count: 7.5K

Warnings: Explicit smut and language, use of vibrators, Hyunjin is kinda obsessed in this one

Genre: College AU; Professor AU

Summary: When Y/N transferred into a prestigious all-girls university, she never expected to be on the receiving end of a very handsome professor’s near-constant attention.

It had been a difficult decision - transferring from my previous school into one of the most Elite universities in the world. I understand that it might seem contradictory, but there were several uncertainties that impeded my ability to make a decision. The first being an existential dread surrounding the idea of leaving behind my best friends, including my off-and-on again boyfriend, Changbin. The second reason involved my new university’s strict mandate that it would only accept female applicants.

Yes, the school only admitted women, and as someone who maintained a diligent sex life with previous boyfriends, I was not excited by the prospect of being forced into celibacy.

But the pressure from my parents and close academic advisors eventually forced my hand, and I found myself dragging most of my belongings out of my dorm room with a few friends helping me along. “What the hell is in this suitcase, Y/N?” Jisung asked, grunting with the effort of dragging my bag along the sidewalk.

“Probably just clothes,” I said, shrugging because I was trying to remain perfectly nonchalant about my transfer, even though I was having a total meltdown on the inside.

“I think that’s all of it,” Changbin said, and he was giving me that same somber look that I was starting to hate - the one that told me he wasn’t very happy about my transfer. “You know,” he continued, bracing himself against the side of my car. “If you ever need me, I’m only a phone call away.”

“Quit trying to get your dick wet, Changbin, and grab something!” Chan snapped. “Or, are those arms just for show?”

Changbin rolled his eyes, but he leaned down to grab my laundry basket before bringing it to the trunk. “Are you gonna miss us, Y/N?” Jisung asked. 

“Not as much as you’ll miss me,” I said. “Who else will edit your essays, Han?”

Jisung frowned as if he was actually thinking deeply about my question. “Maybe I could just email them-”

“Jisung,” Chan interrupted, knocking against his shoulder with an affectionate smile. “There’s still one more box inside.”

“I’m on it!” Jisung shouted, and I grinned at the sight of the younger boy pumping his arms as he jogged back up the staircase.

“He doesn’t really get the severity of the situation,” Chan said, leaning next to me to against my car.

“It’s okay,” I said, looking down at my shoes. “I’ll miss all of you.”

“Y/N,” Chan said, “I thought we weren’t gonna cry until after you left.”

I sniffled around the rising urge to do exactly that before tossing my arms around his neck for a long embrace. “You’ll come see me, right?”

“Of course,” Chan agreed, pulling back to meet my gaze. “Ya! Don’t cry over this, Y/N. It’s supposed to be your big opportunity.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, but it didn’t really feel like it anymore, and when my eyes connected with Changbin’s, I couldn’t help but feel a terrible weight pressing down on my chest.

Maybe this was the worst idea ever, but I was already enrolled for the upcoming academic semester. I would do my best, of course, but I desperately hoped that my parents might reconsider another transfer. Because these were my friends  (and my sometimes boyfriend), and I belonged with them.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Chan instructed me firmly. “Call us if you ever want to hangout.”

“I will,” I promised him, and he brushed a friendly kiss across my forehead. It was the ultimate sign that I had truly signed my life away on the enrollment papers for the school in the next town. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad once I made new friends, but at this moment, everything hurt and I was doing my best to hold myself together as I drove away with my old life waving goodbye from the rear-view mirror.

Upon the start of the Spring semester, I was officially moved into my new dorm room which I was sharing with an very enthusiastic young woman named Claire. Her optimism was unmatched, and she had spent most of the day dragging me around campus while pointing out anything that seemed remotely interesting. “You’ll love it here, Y/N!” she promised, and I feigned a smile mostly for her benefit.

“It seems nice,” I told her later on after we returned to our shared dorm room.

“Oh, yeah, the teachers are great!” she said. “What’s your schedule like?”

I shrugged with vacant dismissal, reaching into my bag to hand her the folded piece of paper I had received earlier that week. “You got in Mr. Hwang’s class!” Claire abruptly squealed. “You lucky bitch!”

“What’s the big deal?” I grumbled, snatching my schedule back out of her hands.

“The big deal!” Claire shrieked like I had just committed an unforgivable crime. “He’s only the hottest teacher on campus!”

I rolled my eyes because I should’ve anticipated something superficial. But I was beginning to understand that most of these poor girls were thirsty for anything remotely attractive, and I had even witnessed one girl lusting over a much-older professor just because he still had all of his hair. It was everything I feared about an all-girls institution, and I was beginning to experience the same mania as the rest of them.

But my thoughts usually went to Changbin, and there was no way I would ever fantasize about one of my teachers. “How old is he?” I asked.

“He’s only 27!” Claire giggled. “I’m not kidding, Y/N, it looks like he was literally sculpted by the gods!”

“That’s original,” I muttered. “Well, I hope he’s good at poetry.”

“Oh, he’s the best,” Claire assured me, but I didn’t think I could take her word for it because she was certainly biased when it concerned his looks. “He’s been published all around the world!”

“He must be decent,” I said because the school’s academic reputation wouldn’t allow anything less than acceptable.

“My friend had a class with him last semester,” Claire continued, and I regretted not changing the topic earlier. “Apparently, she could hardly concentrate on the lesson because she couldn’t stop staring at his ass.”

“Your friend sounds dedicated.”

“There’s also a rumor going around campus that he only got his position because he seduced our admissions advisor!”

I snorted at the idea. “I doubt I’ll be that interested in him.”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” Claire sing-songed. “You’ll change your mind when you see him.”

“I highly doubt it,” I muttered, and I glanced over at the side table where my phone was waiting. “I’ll be back,” I said, and I left the dorm room and found myself in an isolated study room which I ensured was locked before dialing Changbin’s number.

Then, I settled down against the couch and closed my eyes, shoving my hand underneath the waistband of my sleeping shorts to gently graze my fingers against my clitoris. 

Graciously, Changbin picked up after the fourth ring: “Y/N?” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

Changbin chuckled, and the static from the phone made it sound far more guttural. I bit my lower lip as I dipped one finger inside my tight heat. “How’s your new roommate?” he asked. “Chan told me that she was unbearable.”

“She’s chatty,” I said, taking a deep breath before asking him: “Changbin, I miss you.”

He was silent from the other end, and I could only pray that Changbin had read the situation correctly, especially when I offered a quiet moan into the receiver. “Are you touching yourself, Y/N?” he asked, and I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“I wish you were here,” I told him, and I smiled at the familiar sound of Changbin’s zipper as he tugged his pants down those thick thighs that I loved. 

“I’m here, babe,” he said, and there was a slight desperation to his tone. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” I said, hissing around a stuttered exhale when I grazed a sensitive spot. “I’m thinking about your cock, Changbin.”

He moaned from the other end, and the slick sound of Changbin lubing up his erection was particularly raunchy. “I want you here with me, Y/N,” Changbin said, and I could easily imagine him jerking off his cock from behind my eyelids. “I’d have you on your hands and knees, fingering that little pussy of yours.”

I gasped at his words, arching my back against the couch as I shoved my fingers even further inside. Changbin had an uncanny gift for dirty talk that I attributed in large part to his irresistible baritone voice. “Tell me more,” I begged him.

“Are you wet?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” Changbin growled. “I could just slide right in.”

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed, and I imagined everything as he continued to describe it to me - moving my fingers even faster at the phantom sensation of his cock filling me up so well like he always did whenever we had sex together. “I want to come so bad for you.”

“Then do it,” Changbin said, grunting from his end as he undoubtedly brought himself to completion.

And I eventually came with a loud moan - shameless despite the thin walls of the surrounding dorms. But I was on cloud nine, savoring the necessary heat of my well-deserved orgasm. “Call me tomorrow,” Changbin said after a while, and I had almost forgotten that we were still talking.

“Yeah,” I panted around a sigh. “I will.”

The bell-tower struck noon when I entered Hwang Hyunjin’s poetry class for the very first time. I had already anticipated a large class, but I was still surprised by the sheer number of students who were crowding the front rows of the classroom. I rolled my eyes because I was forced to sit at the back, and it certainly did no favors for my poor vision.

Regardless, I was also frustrated because there was a small part of myself which remained curious about this mysterious teacher. I could tell that all the other students were practically gushing with excitement, but I schooled my expression and slumped down in my seat as I pulled out a fresh notebook. What the hell were they expecting? A striptease in the middle of our lecture?

However, the most frustrating part of all was the grand entrance of the elusive teacher who had enraptured most of the population. And I couldn’t be any less impressed with him as I rolled my eyes over his tall, lean form. Yeah, he was pretty to look at, but he certainly wasn’t my type. I sighed as my mind instantly reminded me of an image of Changbin; specifically, a sweaty Changbin who had just finished up in the gym - wearing nothing around his waist except for a towel.

“Good morning, everyone,” Mr Hwang finally spoke, and there was a deeper aspect to his voice that I wasn’t expecting. “My name is Mr. Hwang, and this is our poetry 278 lecture.”

There was a collective sigh over his words, and I held back my laughter at the pathetic way everyone was swooning over him. “Let’s start with introductions,” Mr. Hwang suggested, and I groaned because I loathed ice-breakers. “When I call your name, you can give me your year and intended major.”

God, was this Elementary school?

Nevertheless, I waited for my turn, listening as the other students went above and beyond the call of duty to provide Mr. Hwang with as much unnecessary additional information as they could. “I study political science,” one girl said. “I was the leader of my high school’s debate club, and I won an award at the state convention.”

“Impressive,” Mr. Hwang said, and I briefly entertained the idea of the girl fainting on the spot. “Y/N?”

I glanced up to meet Mr. Hwang’s gaze. “Third year,” I replied. “I just transferred, and I’m studying English.”

“Oh, really?” Mr. Hwang inquired. “Do you have any interest in writing an honor’s thesis?”

I blinked twice at the question because he hadn’t bothered to push anyone else for something more. “I’d like to in the future,” I told him, and I squirmed around uncomfortably in my chair when his gaze lingered for several beats too long.

Thankfully, he quietly moved on, and I was able to relax in my seat once again. The lecture proceeded from there, and I sighed when I realized that we would be talking about Emily Dickinson who I had already studied numerous times in my other classes. But I guess that left me the rare opportunity to doodle nonsensical images on my notebook while thinking about my friends, wondering what Jisung, Chan, and Changbin might be doing at that moment.

In another universe, we could be sharing this class together, and I felt a pang of homesickness for my previous school as I listened to Mr. Hwang’s voice at the back of my head. But after another hour, our class concluded and I breathed a sigh of relief as I packed up my belongings. I wasn’t able to finish my picture of Munchlax, but maybe I could work out the details later on. In the meantime, I hoisted my bag over my shoulder as I tried to fight my way around the crowd of students who were all waiting around Mr. Hwang’s desk.

And I was almost at the exit when his voice suddenly stopped me. “Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I paused mid-step because I wasn’t expecting to hear him call my name. “Can you stay behind for a moment?”

“Sure,” I said, even as I bristled at the thought of having to wait for those other girls to leave first.

They all insisted that they had so many questions to ask Mr. Hwang, and I was left to stew in the corner while crossing my arms over my chest. I had another class in half an hour, and I couldn’t afford to stand around all day while I waited at the behest of a teacher who had somehow won the affections of every student in this stupid school simply by being the prettiest in the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mr. Hwang said with a bright smile to the last girl who scampered out of the room with a breathless giggle.

Finally, it was just me and Mr. Hwang, and I hesitantly walked over to his desk. “You needed to see me?”

“Yes,” Mr. Hwang said as he looked up at me from his grade-book. “Is there something wrong with the way I teach?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I was surprised to see him pouting at me with his lower lip sticking out.

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Hwang,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag.

“Well, it didn’t seem like you were too invested in my lecture,” Hyunjin explained.

Oh, great, he caught me daydreaming about Changbin. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” I said, searching for an excuse. “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.”

“Ah, that’s right!” Mr. Hwang nodded. “You transferred here for the new semester.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, and I chanced a step back towards the doorway. “I’ll do better in the future.”

“Well, hold on for just a minute, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’m here to help my students when they’re struggling.”

“It’s not really a struggle,” I said, but I held my tongue when he pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled something at the top.

“Here,” he said, holding out the paper for me to take. “It’s my personal phone number,” Mr. Hwang added with a wink. 

Personal number? “Oh, thank you, sir,” I offered in return because I wasn’t sure what the appropriate response might be in that situation.

“Call me anytime,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and I couldn’t help but notice the mischievous gleam in his gaze like we were playing some kind of game and I was the one who was losing. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

One Week Later

Despite my new school’s formidable reputation, I was doing exceedingly well in all of my classes. Most of my instructors were greatly impressed, and a few English teachers had already brought up the prospect of mentoring me for the honor’s thesis. Yet, there was one class that I couldn’t quite get a handle on, and I was shocked to see another giant C- written across the top of my latest essay. 

I swallowed hard when Mr. Hwang returned to the front of the room to conclude his lecture. What the hell was I doing wrong? I had even sent this paper to a former TA at my previous school who offered to look at it before I submitted the damn thing.

But instead of feeling disappointed about my failure, I sensed a rising anger directed at the man standing in front of the room. Everyone else around me celebrated their A’s while I was left with a nasty letter grade that would hardly reflect well on my GPA. What could the rest of my classmates be doing differently?

“That’s it for today!” Mr. Hwang announced. “We’ll pick up on this again next time!”

I frowned as I stuffed the essay at the bottom of my bag. It still wasn’t too late to switch out of this stupid class, and then I could finally re-orient my focus. “Y/N!” Mr. Hwang called out when I passed by his desk. “Can I have a moment of your time, dear?”

Dear?! “Sure,” I grumbled, once again waiting for the masses of Mr. Hwang’s admirers to leave the room before I confronted my teacher.

“Well,” Mr. Hwang began with an exaggerated sigh. “What will we do about these poor grades of yours?”

I bristled at the comment because it sounded strangely hostile - perhaps even threatening. “Don’t worry, sir,” I said. “I’m transferring out your class. You don’t have to concern yourself with me.”

I turned my back on Mr. Hwang as I started for the exit. “Don’t be silly, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said. “I’ve spoken to your other teachers, and they tell me that this a requirement for your major. And I’m the only person who teaches the subject.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed under my breath, but I did my best to retain a neutral expression as I returned to his desk. “What’s the problem, sir?” I asked. “I had the last essay peer-checked by a former instructor.”

“Our grading standards are much higher, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang informed me haughtily. “I think the real issue is your attitude.”

“My attitude?” I repeated - completely dumbfounded by the accusation.

“You don’t really show any engagement with the material,” Mr. Hwang elaborated. “You always come to class, but I can tell that your attention is elsewhere. And you don’t even bother to come to my office hours to talk about the topics we cover.”

“I didn’t realize, sir,” I said, and I was shocked that he considered me disinterested in my studies.

“It’s okay to ask for help, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang explained. “You’re the only student who never stays behind to talk to me.”

Because I have better things to compliment your face! “I have another lecture after this one,” I offered as a response.

“Then it seems to me like I should make an effort to meet you outside of designated hours,” Mr. Hwang said. “I have an apartment off-campus. Maybe you can come over this weekend?”

For a moment, I was completely stunned by his proposal. “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr. Hwang,” I said, taking a step back away from him.

“Why not?” Mr. Hwang asked. “It’ll just be me and you.”

“Uh, I don’t know...”

“Oh, Y/N, I have to insist,” Mr. Hwang said, and I watched him open his grade-book. “You won’t even muster a C in this class if you keep going at this rate.”

It seemed preposterous that I could make straight A’s in every other class but still fail this one at the same time. “I’ll think about it,” I said while doing my best to ignore his pleased smile.

It was late that night when my phone lit up with an incoming notification. I groaned in response because I wasn’t expecting anything from the boys, but then again, maybe Changbin needed fresh jerk-off material, and I could always send him a picture of my tits. But I was surprised to realize that I was wrong on all accounts, and my heart started beating faster when I read the message:

From Unknown:

Y/N, it’s Hyunjin from your poetry class.

Hyunjin? Oh, right, that was Mr. Hwang’s first name.

To Unknown:

Me: How did you get this number?

From Unknown:

H: The student profiles.

“It’s still an invasion of my privacy,” I grumbled.

H: We can be very casual with one another outside of class. Wouldn’t you agree?

I narrowed my eyes at the informal suggestion. 

To Unknown:

Me: If that’s okay with you, sir.

I waited for several moments, but it seemed like Mr. Hwang was finally done texting me. I shrugged at the unusual conversation, but before I could place my phone back on my nightstand, it vibrated with another incoming message. This one had a picture attached....

“Holy shit!” I gasped, dropping my phone onto the bed as my heart started to thud violently inside my chest.

From Unknown:

H: Do you like it, princess?

“Is he crazy?” I decried, and my hands were trembling when I brought my phone screen closer. Because the attachment contained a very obscene picture of a dick, and I didn’t need more than two guesses to assume that it was Mr. Hwang’s. 

My fingers were shaking as I stared at the image - zooming in closer to observe the delicate bead of precum glistening at the tip. There was also a hand wrapped around the base, and even though I didn’t have much experience with sex, I could still acknowledge that it was a very nice cock. But did I really just get a dick pic from my poetry teacher?

To Unknown:

Me: I’m not sure what you expect me to say.

I sent the message before attempting to fan my flushed skin - feeling overheated because this was not what I had been expecting when Mr. Hwang sent me the first message.

From Unknown:

H: It’s alright, princess. I’m not much for talking either. Why don’t you come over this weekend so you can show me your reaction instead?

Oh, god, I was definitely teetering on the precipice of very dangerous ground. I’m talking the same kind of inappropriate that could get him fired and me expelled. What the hell was he even thinking? Was Mr. Hwang trying to hit on me?!!

I shook my head because it was suddenly very difficult to concentrate, but I was also feeling the vestiges of panic creeping around the edges of my vision. My hands could barely hold the screen long enough for me to type out a quick response:

To Unknown:

Me: Maybe some other time.

The next morning, I was still shaken from my unexpected text conversation with Mr. Hwang. For most of the night, I simply stared at the ceiling while my phone continued to vibrate with incoming messages. Eventually, I was forced to mute his number, and I still couldn’t fall asleep.

I was barely functional the next morning, but I was also strangely horny, which is why I didn’t hesitate to encourage Changbin when he sent me a message asking if he could come visit. I waited and chose a time when my roommate would be gone - sighing in relief when I heard him knocking on the door. I threw it open quickly, and he was clearly caught off-guard by my eagerness. “I’m so glad to see you,” I said, and I didn’t hesitate to lock my lips with his, kissing Changbin with all the nervous energy that I had tried to keep to myself all weekend. 

“Wow,” Changbin managed when we both pulled apart for air. “The no dick policy at this shithole has fucked you up.”

“Yeah? I need you to fuck me, Changbin,” I said, and he must’ve saw something in my eyes that changed his mind. 

He pushed us both into my room, turning around to lock the door before reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. “Bend over for me, baby,” he said, and his voice was husky as I took off my clothes and braced myself against the desk.

“I really need this,” I told him from over my shoulder - shameless as I explored every inch of his toned form.

“I got you, baby,” Changbin said, and he moved behind me to spread my legs, taking a few moments to finger me with his long digits, stretching out my opening while stimulating my clitoris with his thumb. “You definitely need to be fucked,” Changbin remarked. “Your pussy is so tight.”

“Please,” I whispered, and Changbin was quick to replace his fingers with the same cock that I often drooled over when I masturbated late at night. He set an urgent pace from the start, grabbing my hips between his hands to hold me in place as he filled me with his cock over and over again. “Changbin,” I whined, burying my face in my forearms and trying to ignore the pain in my stomach from where he knocked me into the wood on every thrust. 

It wasn’t equivocal to one of our more passionate rounds of lovemaking, but it was everything that I needed. Enough to wipe all consideration of Hwang Hyunjin clear out of my head as I enjoyed the delightful friction of Changbin’s cock rolling against the constricting walls of my cunt. “It feels so good,” I whispered, and I closed my eyes in pleasure.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Changbin said. “I wouldn’t want your roommate to come back.”

However, the inherent risk of being caught by my roommate was also a factor in my rapid ascent to orgasm. “Coming!” I shouted while feeling myself unravel around his cock as he rammed himself inside. 

Thereafter, I settled on top of my bed while Changbin tied off his condom and tossed it into the trash. I smiled when he crawled in next to me, reaching for his jeans hanging from the edge and pulling out a package of cigarettes. “Open the window,” I instructed him. “I can’t have you polluting my room.”

Changbin chuckled, but obeyed nonetheless. He also drug the ashtray on the windowsill closer before lighting the cigarette and bringing it to his swollen lips for a long inhale. “I really missed you, Y/N,” Changbin said, taking another drag from his cigarette before placing it in the ash tray next to the open window. 

“I missed you too,” I told him, closing my eyes for a moment as I relaxed against the pillows - savoring the warmth of Changbin from next to me.

“I had a nice time with you,” Changbin added. “Maybe we could...try dating again?”

I froze at the words I had been dreading to hear. You see, Changbin and I had been dating off-and-on for many years at this point, and we both knew that we didn’t work well as a couple. Yet, that never stopped him from encouraging us to try again, and as much as I loved the sex, I couldn’t tolerate the complicated feelings involved.

“I don’t think so, Changbin,” I said, wincing when I heard him sigh. “You know that never ends well for us.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, although it hurt my heart to see him look so sad. “I can’t help it, Y/N.”

“We can still keep doing this,” I said, reaching over to place a tender kiss on his bicep. 

“Maybe,” Changbin agreed, but something in his tone told me that this might be the last time I ever enjoyed Changbin’s company in bed.

“Could I at least show you around campus?” I asked him. “I’ll even treat you to lunch?”

Thankfully, Changbin managed a smile at my offer. 

By the time Changbin had left campus, I was feeling strangely alone when I settled at a cafe in the student union to work on some homework. I couldn’t help but feel like I had disappointed Changbin, and I prayed to anyone who was listening that we might still be friends. Because we had been close well before the sexting and late-night phone conversations that always ended up with an orgasm or two.

Changbin was the epitome of the type of guy I usually lusted after: strong, handsome, and intimidating. But we always argued too much whenever we tried the whole couple thing, and that was enough to ruin any preconceived notions I held about a relationship with the object of my most intimate fantasies. “You always manage to ruin everything, Y/N,” I muttered to myself, and it was suddenly way too difficult to focus on homework.

But I was still distracted enough that I almost failed to recognize the man who had just walked into the cafe...until he was standing right next to my table. “I always enjoy seeing my students outside of our lectures,” Mr. Hwang said with a smirk. “Do you mind if I join you?”

It took me a while to respond to his simple inquiry because my mind instantly returned to the picture of his cock that still sat in my messages. “Sure,” I eventually mustered, willing my stomach to settle down while ignoring the harsh smell of his cologne. 

“Is that my assignment you’re working on?” Mr. Hwang inquired as he took another sip of his coffee.

Is he just going to pretend like everything is okay? “Yeah,” I said, sliding my laptop screen closer. “For the author essay.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Mr. Hwang asked, and I shivered at the dark look in his gaze.

“I guess so,” I said, and I passed off my computer screen, observing the way he read over the words before sighing.

“You just don’t seem to understand, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang said, and I could feel myself almost snapping.

“What don’t I understand, Mr. Hwang?” I asked with barely constrained frustration.

“Oh, please call me Hyunjin,” he replied. “Mr. Hwang makes me sound so old.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “But the essay?”

“It lacks passion,” Mr. Hwang explained. “Your writing is decent, but it’s very by the books, you know? I’m looking for my students to play around with their words and have fun! We read enough academia as it stands.”

“Passion?” I repeated. “And how do you suggest that I learn passion?”

Mr. Hwang smiled, and I felt like I had just walked right into a trap. “You’re a very young and attractive woman, Y/N,” he said. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?”

“Several,” I said, keeping my responses short and vague on purpose. Because i couldn’t figure out where he was going with this strange conversation.

“Several?” Mr. Hwang repeated. “Well, that’s a shame then.”

“What do you mean?”

“The sex must be very boring,” Mr. Hwang said. “If you’re still writing this way.”

I didn’t even bother trying to stop my mouth from falling open. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business!”

“I have to make it my business when your grades are this atrocious,” Mr. Hwang insisted, and his eyes rolled over my form. “I find myself quite attracted to you, Y/N. Perhaps I can help solve this little dilemma of yours.”

Fuck it! I thought to myself as I leaned in closer - ready to risk it all because I wouldn’t tolerate his attitude for another moment! “To tell you the truth, Mr. Hwang,” I said, feeling triumphant when his eyes flashed in annoyance at my blatant dismissal of his earlier request. “You’re just not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Mr. Hwang snapped. “Certainly not that little jock you were walking around with on campus?”

“Changbin?” I said without really thinking, but then I found myself wondering how he even knew about that in the first place. “How did you know?”

“I saw the two of you,” Mr. Hwang said like it wasn’t a big deal. “I couldn’t help but notice, Y/N, and that poor boy was following you around like a lost puppy.”

“This is crossing a line,” I said, slamming my laptop closed. “I can see anyone I want.” 

“You’re not interested in doing better?” Mr. Hwang asked. “Trust me, Y/N. I was there once, and most college boys like him are only interested in sticking their dicks into something warm. I think you need someone mature who isn’t only interested in their own satisfaction.”

“Changbin’s sweet to me,” I insisted, and Mr. Hwang scoffed.

“I bet he is, especially if you’re always willing to spread your legs for him.”

“Like you could do any better!” 

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?”

I fell back into my seat as I slowly processed his words. “Sir, I-”

“You can’t possibly know if I’m your type, Y/N,” Mr. Hwang continued. “I think I deserve a fair chance to prove you wrong.”

I could scarcely believe how casual he was acting - like this wasn’t completely against thousands of school rules. It was entirely scandalous, and there were so many inherent risks if we were to ever get caught....but, yet, somewhere deep down inside of me, I felt the familiar heat of arousal.

“You’re thinking about it.” Mr. Hwang smiled. “Come over this Friday, Y/N, and I’ll show you what a real man looks like.”

I had never been this nervous before in my entire life, wiping my sweaty palms against my jeans as I walked up to Hyunjin’s apartment. There was a far more rational part of myself that was screaming at me to run in the opposite direction, but the incessant desire to knock on the door far outweighed the consequences. And my breath hitched in my throat when I saw him standing in the doorway dressed to the nines in tight skinny jeans and a white, button-up shirt while I looked like I had just woken up,

“There you are,” Hyunjin said with a sultry tone, and he reached for my hand to pull me inside. “Sit down for a moment,” he encouraged me, smirking at the look on my face as I took in his lavishly decorated apartment. Still, I managed to obey him as I sat down on the leather futon in the center of the room.

“Your apartment is nice,” I commented, and I held my breath when Hyunjin sat down next to me - stretching out his long legs while he studied me with an impenetrable gaze.

“I have a few rules tonight, Y/N,” he said, and I forced myself to nod. “Are you aware of the color-light system?”

“Color-light system?” I repeated.

“How adorable,” Hyunjin said with a mocking tone. “You’ve made it seem like you know your way around a cock, but you’re clearly more innocent than I assumed.”

My eyes widened at his filthy language. “Sir?”

“That’s a good start,” Hyunjin said. “You will refer to me as sir tonight, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin smiled at my easy compliance.

“As for the color system,” Hyunjin said. “I want to make sure that you’re comfortable, Y/N. Green means that you can handle whatever we’re doing, yellow means that I need to slow down, and red implies that we’ll stop completely. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Hyunjin purred. “Would you feel more at ease in the bedroom?”

I offered him a timid nod, and Hyunjin held out his hand which I accepted - hoping that he wouldn’t notice the evidence of my nerves. But I was half-way expecting something truly horrible, which meant that I was also genuinely surprised to discover a normal bedroom - sparsely furnished with a king-sized bed with a beautiful silk comforter. “Why don’t you take your clothes off for me, princess?” Hyunjin asked, and I shivered at the familiar pet name. “Lay down on the bed, and I’ll grab a few things before we start.”

I waited until Hyunjin turned his back to me before undressing and leaving my clothes in a neat pile on a nearby chair. Then, I hesitantly lowered my body onto the mattress while resisting the urge to cover myself. Especially when Hyunjin returned with a bundle of interesting items, placing them aside while he looked me over from head to toe. “Oh, princess,” he said. “What a beautiful body.”

I could feel myself flushing at his words and Hyunjin laughed. “Where’s that feisty attitude from before, princess? Or was it all for show?”

“Mr. Hwang-”

“Sir,” he quickly corrected me, and I stiffened when he presented a bright red blindfold. “We’ll put this on first,” Hyunjin said, and he ordered me to sit up long enough for him to secure the tie in the back - taking away my sight and leaving me anxious for his next move. “This will make everything feel so much better,” he said, and I jumped when his fingers started to trail down the smooth skin of my stomach. “Oh, you must be very sensitive,” Hyunjin remarked, and I didn't quite know what to do with my hands when he parted the delicate folds of my pussy. “Y/N, are you already wet?” he asked, and I tried to hold back a moan when he inserted one finger, moving it around before leaving me feeling empty once again. 

“Let’s try this,” Hyunjin said, and I gasped when I heard the familiar sounds of a vibrator. “You’ve probably used this plenty of times,” Hyunjin continued. “When you had to finish yourself off after those little boys tried to please you.”

He started with my nipples - moving in small circles around the hardened peaks. It wasn’t anything overwhelming, and I enjoyed the pleasant sensation. However, the soothing action didn’t last for long, and I gripped the silken sheets between my fingers, spreading my legs wider on instinct when Hyunjin trailed the vibrations down to my sensitive pussy lips. “Oh, shit,” I said, nearly exploding when the vibrator made contact with my clitoris. Especially when he increased the power - turning the damn thing up to its highest setting as he held it there in the same spot.

I was gone before it had even started, convulsing around nothing as I came hard against the sheets. And I fully expected him to stop since he had gotten his way, but Hyunjin only surprised me when he continued to move the vibrator against my throbbing clit, refusing to relinquish the stimulating vibrations as everything started to burn with the threat of yet another orgasm slowly building.

“Fuck, you’re leaking everywhere,” Hyunjin said, but there was only awe in his tone, and I could practically feel the weight of his gaze. “Such a good girl,” Hyunjin added, and he started moving the vibrator in faster circles while he refused to take it away from my poor, aching sex.

I moaned around my second orgasm - coming hard again, but there was also an undeniable sensitivity that had me trying to escape the cursed vibrator, but Hyunjin only used a firm grip on my hips to hold me in place.

“Please stop!” I cried.

“Color,” Hyunjin growled, and he continued to press down even harder.

“Y-yellow,” I stuttered, and the vibrations slowed down to a more acceptable level as Hyunjin circled the head around my clit.

“I want one more from you, Y/N,” he said. “Then, I think you might be ready for my cock.”

I almost fell apart at his words, and I found myself unable to deny that everything was so good with him. There was also a strange and foreign part of me that desperately wanted to please him, and I started rolling my hips in time with his circles, chasing another high as I nearly screamed from the intensity. “Look at you,” Hyunjin sneered when he turned off the vibrator, and I could feel the bed dip beneath his weight. He snatched away my blindfold, and I blinked rapidly at the returning light before focusing on the obscene image of Hyunjin jerking himself off in front of me. “You have to be honest with me, princess,” he growled. “Is my cock better than his?”

“S-sir?” I questioned, having trouble focusing because of the thick haze surrounding my frazzled brain. 

“That little prick you were with,” Hyunjin said. “Is his cock better than mine?”

I was smart enough to know the right answer, and I shook my head from side to side. “Your cock is better, sir,” I said, and Hyunjin brightened with a grin. 

“It’s big, isn’t it?” Hyunjin asked, and he was shuffling over me with a sardonic grin. “Why don’t you touch it?”

I swallowed hard, but quickly acquiesced, wrapping my hand around his impressive girth before allowing myself to give him several strokes - making sure to give some attention to the head. “Oh,” Hyunjin moaned, looking down at me with sultry eyes. “That feels good, princess, but would you rather have my cock somewhere else?”

I whimpered at his words. “Yes, sir.”

“Tell me where,” Hyunjin demanded. “I want to know exactly what you want me to do, princess.”

“I want your cock in my pussy,” I said. “I need you to fuck me, sir.”

“Shit,” Hyunjin snarled, and he moved my legs apart to expose my cunt. “How can I possibly say no when you asked me so nicely?”

But I was a complete mess at this point - debauched and overcome with pleasure. Yet, when I felt the tip of Hyunjin’s cock penetrate my weeping sex, I could already feel myself growing excited all over again. He wasn’t gentle either - spearing me with one harsh plunge of his erection against the resisting walls of my pussy. 

“Oh, fuck,” Hyunjin said. “Are you sure you’re not a virgin, princess?”

There were tears in my eyes when I reached out for his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he started moving himself around inside of me. Pulling back to leave just the tip of his cock at my entrance, before thrusting forward with unrelenting strength. In spite of his skinnier stature, Hyunjin wasn’t to be underestimated. He knew exactly how to use his hips, and he continued to breach my constricting cunt with everything that he had. 

“You’re taking me so well, princess,” he said, forcing my legs even further apart, and finding a better angle to attack the delicate g-spot that rapidly sent me hurtling for my fourth orgasm of the night.

I was completely spent, barely holding on to consciousness while Hyunjin finally came with a hoarse cry of my name - dragging his cock in and out of my pussy as he milked himself for every last bit of cum. Then, he pulled himself out with a far more gentle touch, leaning down for the first time that night to connect our lips in a surprisingly warm kiss.

“Is that what you were expecting, Y/N?” he asked with a playful smile. “Am I still not your type?”

I shook my head because words were the last thing on my mind. But Hyunjin simply chuckled at my speechless state, and I watched him move around the room completely naked as he cleaned up the mess we had made. Meanwhile, I held up my hands to make sure that my vision had returned to normal.

Eventually, Hyunjin settled back down behind me, and I was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t kicked me out of his apartment. Even more so when he started to run his fingers down my waist. “I think you finally learned passion, Y/N,” he said, and I couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Can I start writing acceptable essays?” I asked him with a more confident tone.

“Of course,” he agreed. “But Y/N,” Hyunjin added, and I groaned when he cupped the heat between my legs. “You better call me Hyunjin from now on.”

“Yes, sir,” I said, grinning when I heard him growl in warning.

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you?”

I gave him a coy smile in return, watching as he rolled over top of me to spread my thighs again.

The next day in class, I smiled when I saw an A+ written at the top of my latest essay assignment. One that I had stayed up late to complete while sitting at Hyunjin’s desk with his cock buried inside my wet heat. Apparently, my first lesson was complete, but I couldn’t help but think that there was still a lot more left to learn.

“Everyone did well,” Hyunjin said as he paced at the front of the room. “I’ll see you all again soon.”

The dismissal was met with the beginnings of several conversations throughout the lecture room, and I simply organized my things before tossing my bag over my shoulder. Yet, on the way out the door, I couldn’t help but smile when I heard Hyunjin’s voice from behind me. “Y/N?” Hyunjin called out, and I could already feel the arousal gathering between my legs. “Why don’t you stay after class?”