#characters i want to cherish (derogatory)

[misunderstandings-georg]

bad taste in men

to say this was low effort still gives me too much credit

[ellewod]

honestly i don’t even want to quote that sausage line because to me it is so utterly disrespectful and unfunny and humiliating to both the character and the actor, i cannot.

it immediately reminded me of theon/ramsay torture porn, but this is so much worse to me. because they make the victim talk about his own injuries and pain in this derogatory manner.

they make aegon talk about his own genitalia that way. as if he, given the fact that he is suffering greatly, as is so vividly described and continually shown at any possible moment, would actually talk about it that way.

he COULD have addressed this. he could have confided in larys. he could have explained how it affects him, how he can never have another (male) heir which actually is a great deal since maelor does not exist on the show.

he could have explained how he mourns never getting to lie with a woman again, because yes, that was important to him (don’t start with that rapist storyline, i’ll delete/block so fast, you won’t be able to blink first) which is human and doesn’t have to demonized.

he could have explained how it messes with his already destroyed sense of self-worth. he could have explained how he wants those who have wronged him to pay for their crimes.

but instead we got that.

as if aegon’s character hadn’t been humiliated enough this season.

a dragonrider who cherishes his beloved dragon and apparently wouldn’t know how to ride it properly. a protagonist whose significance is pushed aside for his mother, so the viewers get a childhood love story (remember the promo pictures…) instead of what it should have been from the very start; a war between siblings.

no, apparently this was not enough. apparently, we needed another comical line at the expense of aegon’s dignity. thanks for nothing.

[enhypencores]

Bleed Me Dry Pt II

READ PART 1 HERE

Lee Heeseung X Y/N

Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker

Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"

Word Count: 11K+

WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandere, manipulation, mentions of self exit, drugs, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.

Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.

PS: I’d love to hear your feedback <3

Heeseung had gathered some crucial knowledge from a heavily drunk Jake.

“Intelligent and tall. She’s got a thing for them… She had this crush on a dude in the first semester. Told her he was a jerk, didn’t listen, and you know… he broke her heart. His name? Think it was park jeong guk? jeong woo? I don’t know… It was just some guy. She’s stupid…”

He had wanted to punch that knowing look off Jake’s face as he insulted you, but Heeseung tried swallowing down the surging fury.

Because, indeed, you were so stupid. Why had you allowed some loser into your life? When Heeseung gets you, he will make sure to treasure every part of you. He wouldn’t need anyone else. He would use his every breath to cherish you, only you.

Despite the hostility he felt upon hearing of your previous crush, the good news was that Heeseung unintentionally matched the description. He had never been so grateful for his genes until this moment; traits he once considered useless suddenly becoming his most prized.

Heeseung bore a good height, and his mind was like a computer program. At just ten years old, his father had assumed he’d discover the cure for cancer—yet to come true, but everyone in college believed if anyone could do it, it was Lee Heeseung.

A special one, born to lead, a saviour, they claimed. But Heeseung never wanted to be his father’s golden child. He didn’t want to contribute to society or garner the world’s praise. He barely had friends—except for Kim Sunoo, Heeseung’s childhood partner in crime.

To the world, Heeseung was an overachiever, but he knew his excellence was merely a distraction from his twisted mind. His father was the first to notice the disconnect.

Heeseung chose medicine on a whim, a flick of a coin—heads or tails. The boredom in his life drove him to try everything: paragliding, boxing, swimming, drugs and unrestrained, animalistic sex. He had lived countless lives in two decades.

Early teenage years, his father took it upon himself to train his son, instilling social norms and enforcing strict rules as he tried moulding Heeseung into someone 'normal.' Like a dog on a leash, he made Heeseung more human while maintaining a safe distance to avoid getting scratched. Heeseung understood this from the moment he gained consciousness: his father was scared of him. Terrified.

He never discovered what exactly made his father lock his door every night, but whatever it was, it confirmed a small suspicion: Heeseung was unlovable.

It wasn’t anything detrimental really, because Heeseung never felt the need to seek love. Even in psychological terms, a human's absolute necessities were food, shelter, sex, and safety. When he could survive on the bare minimum, why should he look for something as wasteful as love? He'd rather spend time gaming and pretending to outshine the world’s brilliant minds.

Now, Heeseung was tired of the boredom. So tired that he thought to end it. How long could one treck through an aimless journey?

The realisation that he could cease to exist and no one would know his whereabouts made him feel somewhat better. The taste of death brought him immense curiosity. Would he turn to dust and ashes? Would he be forgotten in memories?

He didn’t think anyone would remember him. To his father, he was a trophy; to his friends, a competition; and to outsiders, a freak. His loss would merely be a statistic: a decline in Korea’s population digits, a decrease in the number of distinction holders in the country, and one less student in Seoul University’s register.

That’s what he thought.

Until he came across you.

You, with your brown eyes, small frame, your liveliness and your beauty.

It was a rainy day in Seoul when he was walking past the bus stand after wrecking his father’s beloved car in a deliberate crash. Unfortunately, he made it out unscathed, only injuring the vehicle. Maybe Heeseung had been born with a shit ton of luck, destined to waste it away.

Regardless, thanks to that golden tub of luck, he was able to land his gaze on you. Heeseung unintentionally remembered countless formulae and research, but the one thing he intended to remember—fucking forced himself to perfectly encode in his memory—was the way you looked that day.

Brown hair slightly wet, sticking to your jawline, knitted brows, and wide eyes staring up at the sky in vengeful retaliation. Heeseung stopped in his tracks.

He had never seen an angel angry.

You dialled a number on your mobile and spoke calmly into your phone.

“The bus is running late. Pick me up.” He remembered a sulking pout on your lips.

“It’s raining! I don’t even have an umbrella. You want me to walk?” He remembered incredulous horror written across your features, lips frowning at the caller’s words.

“Fine... Please! There, I said it, now come quick.” He remembered you rolling your eyes, biting your lip and clenching your bag’s strap tighter.

The phone call ended, and you folded your arms over your chest, letting the damp material cling to your bust, detailing the line of your bra as you tapped your foot on the drenched footpath, staring ahead in longing.

That day, an inactive section of his brain burst out with life, that’s all he could theorise. He wanted to devour you, grope your drenched body, kiss your red mouth, force his fingers into your most sensitive tissues and consume your cries.

He wanted to destroy the person on that call with you, bury them within the earth’s deepest pits so they’d never return to you. He wanted the earth to swallow you and him together, so he could hide you away and savour this moment. He wanted to be the only existence to remember you, here, standing at the bus stop, waiting for a ride home.

Why were you here alone anyway? Who was coming?

Heeseung wanted to shadow you from the rain. If he was a part of your life, he’d chase away all the buses—let alone make you wait for one to pick you up. He would stand drenched in the rain if it meant your ass would only meet the covers of his seat.

A booming motion of the car made your eyes light up. Heeseung’s chest knotted up, a foreign emotion bubbling in his throat as a blonde braked his car before you. You hurried to climb into the passenger’s seat, and then he drove away. Just like that.

He hadn’t hurt someone so far in this life, but the urge to drive a car into the blonde grew tenaciously strong. He had never felt such hatred and venom consume his being. The thought of you getting into that car, going away to share a life Heeseung wasn’t a part of left a gnawing anger in his chest.

His heart which hadn’t felt something in so long suddenly felt alive, riveting with twisted emotions. Heeseung didn’t want to live, but suddenly he didn’t want to die either. He didn’t wish to be remembered, but suddenly he wanted at least one person to remember.

That day he came to a staggering conclusion: Heeseung was unfit to be loved, but he wasn’t unfit to love.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Peak hours on a Monday afternoon started early. Waitresses ambled from one table to another, carrying orders as the room bustled with young college students, conversing and gossiping while awaiting their snacks. The rich essence of chocolate and coffee beans filled the air, stirring hunger among individuals working alone with their noses in laptops and textbooks.

Heeseung’s lips curved in a knowing smile: if you were here, you’d be one of those unaccompanied goody two shoes, sipping on a chocolate milkshake, jotting things down in your notebook. He pictured your brows scrunched as you wrapped your beautiful lips around the straw, gulping long sips and pulling away with a content smile.

“Baby, can’t we go somewhere more private?”

His jaw tightened, aggravated at the shrill interruption. He feigned a smile, his gaze falling back on the red-haired bimbo who stared at him like he was the answer to her every prayer.

Heeseung grabbed a fork, scooping up a bite of strawberry cheesecake before filling his mouth. His stomach fluttered as he revelled in the sweet texture. Ever since stealing those kisses, he couldn’t stop craving sweet treats. He even bought some candies on his way home that morning, already feeling the withdrawals kicking in.

“But how’ll we do this—in private?”

The girl stared in confusion before she was yanked into his embrace, his warm lips slamming into hers, kissing her aggressively, the sweet creaminess from the cake transferring into her mouth. She moaned, licking his lips incessantly, begging for entrance, but Heeseung dismissed her attempts, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Nervously, the red-haired girl slid her chair closer, biting her lip as she observed the underwhelmed expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” She sulked, sucking at her teeth, staring up with concern.

Heeseung shook his head and pulled her into his lap. “Did you do something to make me mad?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose down her neck, peppering small kisses to distract her from his response.

“Ah—n-no! I didn’t,” she gasped, her concern melting away already, her head tilting back as Heeseung planted kisses down her collarbone.

“Shouldn’t you be at uni right now?” He abruptly changed the topic, portraying the perfectly caring boyfriend who gave a shit about her life.

“Yeah, but I’ll ask a friend for the class notes,” she mustered up, her breath laborious as Heeseung ran his hand down her thigh, his kisses growing feistier against her exposed neck.

“Hm, are you that smart?” He pressed on, his patience running out. “Thought I’d fucked you dumb already,” he whispered repulsive words, his hand covering her thighs as the girl tightened in his hold, her lips pressed together to silence any sound, cautious of their surroundings.

Heeseung’s gaze changed, a menacing darkness flashing through. “Smart bitches,” he began, his words blunt and aggressive. “Fucking hate them. Running their big mouths all the damn time,” he declared, his bitter tone making her knees quiver in arousal.

“Tell me, baby, you’re not one of those, are you?” He urged.

One way to access a woman’s weaknesses was to put her up against another.

The girl whose name he had forgotten the second she uttered it, shook her head with desperation. Had he asked her to admit to murder, she would have agreed.

“No!” She yelped, alarmed at his lack of interest. “I’m so dumb. Barely passing this degree,” she confessed, her voice cracking as she spread her knees for his attention.

“Hm—really?” He mocked, and she nodded, her body pleading for his approval. “But your course is so tough. You must be so smart.” Heeseung’s tone dripped with sarcasm, his frown hinting at his displeasure.

The girl choked; her breaths alarmingly rapid as Heeseung’s fingers trailed closer to her clothed centre. “But not me—there’s some smart girls in my class. I—I’m not like them, Hee,” she rambled, her eyes screwing shut.

“Smart girls like—yourself?” He threw the bait, challenging her, and she immediately shook her head, her body jolting as Heeseung flicked his fingers against her centre.

“Not me—not me. This other girl—Ah!” She bit her tongue, her body trembling as Heeseung drew faint circles against her clit. “There’s—Y/N!”

Bingo.

“She’s like the smartest—oh!”

Heeseung halted his movement, his teeth gritting in frustration, anger bubbling up his throat as the girl kept moaning into her words, prolonging this ordeal. He hadn’t spent the last three days coercing a second-year pharmacology student from your college to serenade and romance. He wanted information.

The girl’s arched frame twisted at the sudden lack of touch, her wet gaze darting to Heeseung’s in urgency.

“Speak,” he commanded bluntly, his usual sugar-coated tone gone along with his smile.

The girl’s expression faltered, her blood turning cold. “Uh—there’s this girl—she’s really smart, always acing her exams,” she responded reluctantly, her insecure gaze attempting to read his intentions.

Heeseung’s hand slid back down to her leaking centre, his movement more vigorous as he wrapped his lips on her earlobe. “You’re so hot like this—like a dumb bitch for me,” he drawled, sucking her sensitive flesh.

His sudden shift in demeanour seemed like a hallucination, his voice now intentionally low and sultry. “You wouldn’t want to be like Y/N, hm? You’re my good girl.”

The girl was a goner. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, her eyes shut, and her body trembling from his touch, his previous indifference a distant memory.

“Yeah—I am—so—so dumb for you,” she babbled nonsensically. Heeseung’s flicks quickened.

“That bitch—she’s so smart and talks too much, probably why no one likes her. Such a loser— I don’t know why Park Jongseong’s crazy for her.”

Heeseung’s arm faltered, his body freezing.

The girl, lost in the throes of her arousal, ignored it, urgently pressing her hand down to maintain the pressure. “She’s so full of herself. Bet she’s as virgin as a nun—but maybe—she finally let poor Jongseong have a go, who kno—Ah!”

Heeseung yanked her hair back, his clenched fist tightening and ripping a few strands. His gaze was predatory, chest heaving as he stared down at the horrified girl.

“I’ll rip that tongue out, sweetheart,” he hissed, his venomous tone cutting through and gripping her heart with horror.

The sickening words replayed like a broken record. A searing sting flared inside his chest, his jaw tightening as he thought of that name: Park Jongseong.

Of course, it was the guy from the photos—it fit him perfectly. His arrogant, self-righteous demeanour, that overly exaggerated smile on his face as he held you. It had to be him.

The imagery the stupid girl on his lap painted, her words dripping with malice for his Y/N; everything began to suffocate his lungs.

Heeseung stared down, his hand still gripping her locks as she looked at him with disbelief.

As he released his grip, she winced, her eyes wet with tears.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around her waist like a shackle, holding her captive as he leaned forward and picked up the steaming hot coffee she had ordered. She flinched as he pushed the cup to her lips.

“Drink.”

The girl stared at him like he had grown two heads.

“It’s too hot—”

“Leave one sip behind, and you’ll wish you had listened.”

Her heart raced, body turning cold. Heeseung’s chilling gaze and crooked smile were laced with demonic intent, making her stomach churn. She had never felt her organs shrivel with just the sight of a man’s empty gaze.

She realised at that very moment. She had to obey or else… she didn’t even want to consider what could happen.

She took the heated cup, gulping down her spit to ease the pressure in her throat.

Then she clung to the cup and downed the entire thing. The first rush of liquid scalded the roof of her mouth. Burns trailed down her tongue, to her throat, buzzing all the way into her stomach. Bloody broils flared up, her muscles jolting in agony as pain overwhelmed her cognition. With an excruciating sob, she dropped the empty cup, shattering it on the ground as she tried screaming for help. 

The busy café didn’t seem to notice anything but the shatter, rolling their eyes at the couple’s antics before continuing with their own endeavours.

Heeseung patted her head, smiling in satisfaction. “That’s my good girl.” 

The sobbing girl tore herself from his lap. Standing on quivering limbs, she scrambled to grab her purse and dashed towards the exit.

To Heeseung’s delight, the red-haired bimbo wasn’t so useless after all. He now had a name: Park Jongseong.

Grabbing his phone, Heeseung dialled a number.

“Sim, for your birthday, let’s plan something crazy.”

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

The homeroom buzzed with chatter as students scattered to join their friends at the end of the lecture. While most were preparing to head home, you had to stay back for the weekly council meeting. With your head slack on the table, you shut your eyes and let out an irked groan, wishing you could abandon all your duties and just scramble home.

“Y/N, just resign already. You’re too exhausted,” Yeji, your best friend, called out, rolling her eyes as she zipped up her tote bag.

You groaned again, slamming your head against the table. “You have no idea how badly I want to take your stupid advice,” you whined, rubbing your temples in pain.

Yeji, her pink hair perfectly styled, retouched her lip gloss and eyed your sulking frame. “You take on too much for no reason,” she sighed, finishing her touch-up and patting your head.

“Can’t you loosen up? Look at me, we have finals coming up, and I’m off clubbing with Jaemin,” she gloated, her smile widening at the thought of her boyfriend.

Getting into the world’s best university on an eighty per cent scholarship was tough, but no one prepared you for the strenuous part: upholding those perks. Paired with a demanding course load, extracurriculars and volunteer work felt like a constant nuisance.

“I wish…” you muttered.

Knowing her best friend’s upright nature, Yeji shook her head in defeat.

“Besides that, I’ll be having fun soon,” you iterated, and Yeji instantly grew alert, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re getting a boyfriend?” She gasped, grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards her in excitement. 

“No!” You dismissed, and Yeji’s excitement died as soon as it began, releasing your shoulders in frustration.

“At this point, I strongly believe you wish to die a virgin,” she remarked, running her fingers through her dark strands, her gaze cold. “You even rejected Jongseong,” Yeji huffed.

You winced.

It had been three months since you had been hit by a truck of feelings from the raven-haired boy. Three months of discomfort and pain.

You were introduced to your senior, Park Jongseong, as a good friend of Na Jaemin. The two friend groups had merged, and soon the initial trio—Yeji, Ji-min, and you—grew an acquaintanceship with their group: Jay, Jaemin, and Jisung.

Since you had been to an all-girls school, the first few months of interactions were painstakingly awkward. You felt like an outsider even in a room full of familiar people.

You envied your best friends Yeji and Ji-min for their effortless socialisation skills. Whilst they enjoyed trips and study sessions with the guys, you drew a line, only speaking when spoken to.

In the first year, you were constantly running away from this new world of discomfort. Jay, however, refused to draw a barrier. Like the definition of a headstrong man, he never gave up. Gestures like stopping you in the hallways to talk about his hobbies and inviting you to all his parties showed you that Jay was making a real effort at friendship.

All of it came tumbling down when he confessed to you. The friendship you treasured faded, and you both became strangers again.

“Don’t bring him up,” you gritted, your heart plummeting as you remembered all the distant memories.

You recalled that nightmarish day. You might take this to your grave but Park Jongseong was your first crush. You secretly liked him throughout the farce of friendship.

He held your bag after class, joined extracurriculars like the music society and learned amazing guitar skills. He took you shopping to destress after you failed your lab assessment and played silly nursery rhymes on his guitar to make you laugh. Everything was special until the last day of the second semester.

Jay had asked you to a movie, and as always, you assumed he meant everyone in the friend group, so you called Yeji and Ji-min along.

The moment he saw you walk in with the girls, his expression fell with dismay. Instead of speaking to you about it, he handed the popcorn to your friends and left.

You followed him instantly, but maybe you shouldn’t have.

“Jay!” You chased after him, your heels thudding against the pavement, confusion painted on your features.

He paused in his tracks and turned, his eyes darkening.

“What’s wrong?”

Instead of responding, Jay’s gaze narrowed, a strained chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t act dumb now,” he rasped, his voice bitter.

You opened your mouth to question him, but he suddenly stepped close, his towering frame making your insides queasy.

“It’s always the same with you. How long will you pretend?” Jay’s voice trembled with accusation.

“Do you not see me? Chasing after you like a fucking loser. I’ve spent months trying to figure you out. Stop this game of hide and seek!” He roared, tightening his hold on your shoulders as he stared down at you like a wounded wolf.

You felt so wronged and hurt, your throat clogging up with emotions.

Because Jay was right. You were playing dumb, looking past his feelings, ignoring your own to hide away. Your insecurities and fear of disappointment were louder than his words, ringing in your head like tinnitus.

Because you had always assumed someone as rich and well-put-together as Park Jongseong didn’t need to like a mediocre girl on a scholarship.

You felt that breaking his heart might save his friendship, might save you from the pain of losing his love. So you wanted to sever all chances before you even tasted his love.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever once liked me?” He questioned, his gaze softening as he held your face in his hands, his pupils trembling with need.

Yes.

Yes!

“No.”

His arms dropped, his gaze dull and empty as he stared into your tearful eyes.

“We’re good friends, Jay. Look, we don’t have to rush into anything—”

You felt chills run down your spine as he cut off your words, his tone sharp and damaging.

“Delete my number. Don’t ever come see me.”

“And if I ever accidentally find my way back to you, slap me awake like this again.”

He tore his arm from your grip and you two never spoke again.

And then a week later, he started dating your friend Ji-min.

“Y/N!” You snapped out of your thoughts, head swirling with flashbacks as Yeji shouted for your attention. “What fun were you referring to?” She shifted closer, curiosity written across her features.

You smiled, flicking her forehead away.

“Jake suddenly wants a big birthday bash for his twenty-second,” you told her, thinking back to this morning when he was talking over the phone with his friends, inviting them to his party.

Seeing you pass by, he called you back, his face glowing with excitement as he ended the call.

“Invite all your friends and their mamas— it’s my 22nd!” He roared, and you imagined he’d burst into a Taylor Swift, ‘22’, any minute now.

“Jake? He usually calls them juvenile,” Yeji giggled, thinking back to the time she had a fat crush on your brother and how she stuck to him like a leech until he shooed her off.

You nodded, rolling your eyes at your brother’s weird mood swings. “He wants to hold a grand party. You’re invited, I guess,” you waved her off, and Yeji laughed, her eyes twinkling in joy.

“Of course, I’ll be coming with my boo,” she winked. “Is it at the house?” Yeji asked, twirling her strands excitedly.

You shook your head, tidying your desk and packing up. “He’s planning it with his friend, Heeseung.”

Yeji gasped at the name as if it had evoked a cocktail party effect, her eyes wide as she held onto your shoulders. “That friend you had a wet dream of?”

Your jaw dropped, eyes wide in fear, darting across the hall to make sure no one heard her. “Shut up!” You yelled, your cheeks flushed red, the memory of your filthy mind fuelling your embarrassment.

Yeji laughed, a playful glint flashing in her hazel eyes. “What, did I lie?” She crudely announced, and you felt helpless, unable to feign innocence. 

The night had left you shaken up. The truth was, you had never felt this affected by a hallucination— imagination, whatever it was, it blurred the lines between reality and fiction. You imagined Heeseung fondling your breasts, kissing your lips. All of it was a newfound hunger.

You scrambled to call Yeji soon after to regain some composure. After a long discussion, her diagnosis was a ‘severe case of ovulation’, and she prescribed, ‘getting dicked down asap’.

After that night, you kept wishing for more hallucinations, but your brain refused to cooperate. You had to rely on a picture you had stolen from Jake’s phone of Heeseung in a black button-down with his legs spread apart on the couch, his lap seeming so inviting that your abdomen clenched with need.

Maybe, you were ovulating. But why was it so intense?

“You know, maybe you should shoot your shot with him,” Yeji suggested, patting your shoulder as she stood alert, waving at the man standing in the doorway.

“My ride’s here, bye girly!” Yeji waved, setting her already perfect hair for the nth time before skipping to the smiling blonde, his gaze practically shooting hearts at your friend. Jaemin grabbed her hand, and they scattered off.

You sighed.

Lee Heeseung, what are you doing to me?

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Booming music drowned out any chance of conversation. Guests sprawled in like ants to a sugar cube. Faces glowed with joy, arms carried gifts, and gazes sparkled with anticipation as they searched for the man of honour.

But it wasn't the birthday boy they sought. It was Lee Heeseung, the man who had invited the entire university to his farmhouse. It was a privilege, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

During his four years at the university, he hadn’t spared anyone a glance—let alone befriended anyone. When news circulated of Sim Jaeyun’s birthday invite at Heeseung’s, everyone jumped at the chance.

Girls skipped lessons to find the perfect dress, while guys ransacked their wardrobes for branded watches. Curiosity grew almost sleep-depriving. Who was this friend that Heeseung, the man who never let anyone into his circle, deemed worthy of a lavish party? For weeks, the university buzzed with gossip and excitement leading up to this day.

Heeseung’s gaze was fixed on the main entrance, his lips pressed into a thin line. He remained unmoving as over-enthusiastic people rushed to greet him.

He knew the world like the back of his hand. They hated him and despised his arrogance, yet they flocked to him like moths to a flame. All he had to do was give them a chance, let down his guard and the world would surrender in his palms. But it didn’t matter.

As long as he had your attention, the world could be his.

Jake appeared out of nowhere, his arm settling on Heeseung’s shoulder, smiling as his soccer mates walked in.

“You’re ignoring the entire hall,” Jake muttered, his grip tightening on Heeseung’s shoulder to warn him.

Heeseung glanced at the clock for the nth time, his fingers tapping impatiently against his glass. He barely acknowledged the birthday boy's attempt at conversation, his irritation mounting as the clock ticked on without your presence.

“Where is she?” He questioned.

“She had a presentation to finish up,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “She’ll be here with Yeji and Jaemin soon.”

Jake wasn’t stupid. He had once believed he was special to Heeseung. The notorious case of Heeseung’s egocentrism was a popular topic in the university’s hallways. Even his soccer buddies claimed Heeseung was a nutcase with extreme intelligence.

When Heeseung approached the basketball team and defeated Jake, the established ace of Seoul University, Jake developed a sense of respect and admiration for him. Despite everyone’s claims, Jake realized Heeseung’s issue wasn’t indifference or social deficiencies.

Everyone was infatuated, enthralled, and unequivocally aware of Heeseung’s gift; he commanded attention because he was extraordinary. The problem was that Heeseung didn’t care about them, and when people realized this, their fantasy shattered, leaving them scraping for bits of attention and bitter envy.

Jake knew Heeseung kept him around for a reason, but despite his awareness, Jake was willing to be a pawn if it meant catching Heeseung’s attention.

“Jakey Jakey— it’s your birthday!” Jake looked away, finding his best friend, Park Sunghoon, on the other end of the hall with a gift bag. Jake’s smile grew, and he signalled to Heeseung that he was heading over. Heeseung nodded, and Jake scurried off.

Heeseung averted his gaze, staring back at the main entrance. The delay grew unbearable, and he considered heading out to the parking lot when suddenly he spotted Jaemin and Yeji walking inside.

He stood alert, his gaze tensely fixed on the door.

He held his breath as you walked into his line of sight. His body felt the shift, breath quickening. His fists tightened, and his gaze traced your body with unfiltered haste. 

Fuck, that black body-con dress, outlining your curves, hugging your body like a second skin. His grip on the glass tightened. The dress revealed your defined collarbones, and the slit from the knee paired with black-heeled boots showcased your smooth, honeyed legs. Your hair was curled slightly, silky strands falling in waves against your cheeks, reaching your elbows.

Heeseung’s head throbbed as he tried to decipher his feelings. Seeing you walk inside with that dress made something rise in his throat, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. It was worse, mentally and physically damaging.

How fucking demeaning. He was a man who never felt the burn of envy, but a fucking dress had him feeling so weak—so horribly jealous.

He wished he could tear it off and burn it to ashes like the scorching flames in his own blood. He had planned this moment all morning, intending to walk up to you with a smile, but now he found it difficult to breathe, let alone move.

However, the world doesn’t stop. Even if he couldn’t move, you very much could.

Your stray gaze finally landed on the familiar figure, and you walked up to him. You still weren’t mentally prepared to face the man you had been dreaming of for the past few weeks, but you found it unkind to ignore him when he had planned this lavish party.

You smiled, holding out a small gift bag.

“As far as I recall, it’s not my birthday,” Heeseung finally found his voice, his cheeky comment making you narrow your eyes.

“It’s basic etiquette to bring something when you visit someone,” you replied a hint of playfulness in your tone. You caught sight of the gift display in the backdrop where innumerable presents were mounted on the table. “I’ll take it there,” you politely acknowledged.

You were ready to walk off, but Heeseung pulled you back, instantly grabbing the present. Taken aback, you opened your mouth to question him, but he ignored your curious gaze.

Everyone stealing reserved glances at the duo paused, their eyes wide, jaws dropped in amusement. Like a boy opening his Christmas gifts, Heeseung rushed to untie the ribbon and tear through the wrapping paper.

“Heeseung, it’s not that great…” your panicked voice cut through, cautious of everyone’s expectant gaze on your gift. The plea went right through him, and he finally discovered a small clear bottle.

You brought him cologne.

You had racked your brain for days on what to bring him, and you had decided upon a blackberry cologne. The succulent scent carried a sinful aura, an intimidating and enigmatic aroma that perfectly captured Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung ran his thumb over the label. Then he unscrewed the top and sprayed it on his wrist. As he brought it to his nose, his heart felt fuller than before.

He imagined you walking into a Jo Malone store, attentively trying numerous scents until the abundant smells overstimulated your senses as you thought of him. How long did you spend deciding on the perfect one? How long did he manage to fill up your head?

“It’s just a small gift,” you mumbled, analysing his features.

“It’s perfect.” He said it with so much sincerity, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Where’s my gift?” Jake appeared with some of his rowdy friends from the sports club, his arm linked with the ice skater, Park Sunghoon. He pouted dramatically, his bottom lip sticking out. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Last I checked, you asked me to buy you a Nintendo Switch as an early birthday present,” you replied. Jake gave you a mock glare. “That was ages ago,” he huffed.

Before you could retort, you caught Yeji's eyes from across the room. She stood by the bar, urgently motioning for you to come over. The alarmed look on her face made you excuse yourself from the guys as you hurried to her.

Yeji grabbed your arm with an intense grip, struggling to catch her breath as a crazed laugh bubbled up her throat.

“You’re kidding,” she gasped. “You were talking about Lee Heeseung!” She roared with laughter, her expression priceless as she turned to you.

You stared at her, confused. “What?”

“Y/N!” She shook you slightly, her wide eyes trembling with excitement. “You don’t know him? He’s popular across the entire district!”

Seeing your blank expression, Yeji took it upon herself to fill you in. She pulled out her phone and showed you Seoul University's popular forum dedicated to Heeseung. As she clicked through the links, you realised the man was practically the definition of perfection.

His father owned a large-scale pharmaceutical corporation, and Heeseung was the sole heir. Despite this parental security, he was at the top of his classes, captain of the basketball team, head of the arts and music society, and president of student affairs. By his second semester, he had already secured an internship at HYBE, a massive healthcare conglomerate—separate from his father’s influence. He was so incredibly intelligent that the college even commemorated his achievements with dedicated newsletter columns and interview sessions.

As you absorbed this overwhelming information, Yeji’s tone flattened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “But, Y/N, he’s known as a player,” she reluctantly added. “Apparently, there hasn’t been a girl he hasn’t had.”

You stared silently at the soles of your boots.

Of course, he was a player. Anyone would drop to their knees for a chance to be with him. You had read somewhere that gravitational pull was the strongest in a black hole, but science hadn’t investigated the world’s pull towards Heeseung. You had only met him a couple of days ago, yet he had already made you feel so unbearably enraptured.

Ruminating over Yeji’s words, you were speechless at your own disappointment. How could he affect you so terribly?

“But—he’s never had anything serious,” Yeji tried to console you, squeezing your shoulder.

Throat tightening, you attempted a smile.

“Who invited them?” Yeji's gasp broke through your thoughts, her mouth hanging open, eyes bulging in shock as she stared behind you.

You shifted, turning to see what had her so stunned.

Your jaw dropped.

In walked a couple, hand in hand, wearing complimentary outfits. A couple you hadn’t spoken to in ages, a couple that haunted your sleepless nights: Park Jongseong and Yu Ji-min.

Your frantic gaze searched for Jake, conflicting emotions swirling across your face as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Your older brother stood inattentive, engrossed in a conversation with Sunghoon as Jay approached him, wearing a broad smile. You watched them exchange a quick handshake, Jake accepting a large gift box.

“Why would Jake invite him?” Yeji huffed.

You didn’t know—but a gut feeling told you this was meant to happen.

The familiar gaze met yours. He was now heading to the leather couch beside his girlfriend, his eyes trained on you. You offered him a tight smile, your insides trembling in growing anxiety.

Jay was stern, his gaze cold and disdainful. Whilst maintaining eye contact, he pulled his girlfriend to sit on his lap, his grip tight on Ji-min’s waist as she whispered something into his ear. 

Your smile dropped at his immaturity.

You had lost both your friends, Jay and Ji-min, because of your mistakes. You had avoided them like the plague, and something deep within you suggested that the mysterious rumours circulating around the university weren’t just random gossip; they were spread by someone you had once considered as close as Yeji.

Something more sinister gnawed at your insides. 

Heeseung.

Amidst the chaos, you felt someone’s piercing gaze on you. Like a magnet, you found him. Under the blue strobe light, Heeseung stood leaning against the bar’s counter, flanked by a few girls, with his eyes fixed on you, watching like a hawk.

Though he was a stranger—a complete nobody in your world—you still felt he was reading you like an open book. Anxiety washed over you, your throat drying up under his intense scrutiny. If your life was split into meaningful chapters, Heeseung knew it by heart, his gaze uncomfortably invasive, expectant as if judging your next move.

A waiter zooming by caught your attention, and you pounced on the opportunity. Fingers trembling, you grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it in one go, the liquor leaving a bitter burn in your throat.

“Y/N, you don’t hold your liquor well,” Yeji frowned. One drink never hurt anyone, and besides, this was a party—everyone was soon going to lose their marbles.

You turned away, grabbing another drink from a passing waiter.

“Y/N, stop!” Yeji warned. You smiled tightly, ready to throw more alcohol into your system.

In a flash, Heeseung, who had been a good fifty people away, stood towering over you. He snatched the glass from your grasp and chugged it down. You watched in disbelief as he slammed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, his gaze darkening as he stared at you. Yeji took it as her cue to scram, rushing to accompany her boyfriend on the dance floor.

Your stomach clenched with want. Even simply dressed in a black t-shirt and leather jeans, his expression sour, his appeal was uncanny. He made you forget the elephant in the room.

“So— he bothers you that much?” Heeseung spat, his voice low and venomous.

He had planned to watch from the sidelines. Jongseong’s name was enough for Heeseung to find sources and sniff out your past link. He was told you had rejected the boy, but that didn’t match Jake’s description of your first crush.

It didn’t take long for Heeseung to realise that you really did like Jongseong, your affection reflected in that picture you still chose to keep. The reason you had declined his proposal wasn’t a mystery either. You feared ruining a chance at friendship, and that conclusion made Heeseung sleepless.

Heeseung had orchestrated this party and invited Jongseong, just to watch your heartbreak. He wanted to dwell in the forlorn misery in your gaze, relish in the fury and hatred fuelling your agonised expression. He wanted you to shatter so that you were left with no choice but to find him. So that he could collect those shards and piece you together. For himself.

Yet here you stood, bothered and apologetic. There wasn’t one bad bone inside you, your heart pure like the sunshine that streaks through his curtains every morning.

“How do you know about Jay?” You curiously pointed out, folding your arms and gazing up at the man.

Heeseung flinched at the nickname. Tightening his fists, he responded with gritted teeth. He didn’t need to lie for this.

“Jake.”

One word and your face crumbled, your finger pointing at the blonde who laughed beside his friends. “Why can’t that idiot keep his mouth shut?” You complained, glaring daggers. You couldn’t believe your brother blurted out your business to Heeseung.

“Do you still want him?”

Say it.

Say it, and he’ll burn this place down, along with Park Jongseong, leaving you with nothing—not even a corpse to mourn—just a speck of remains and dirt.

“I don’t.”

His eyes shifted back to their brown.

“I just wish I hadn’t lost my friends.” You glanced down at your shoes, face shrouded in despair as you reminisced the past.

Heeseung watched the sorrow flicker in your deprived eyes.

This was simpler than he had imagined.

“Let’s get the party started!” Jake yelled at the top of his lungs, carrying a huge celebratory bottle of champagne as everyone huddled around him.

Yeji appeared by your side, dragging you towards the crowd where Jake prepared to unseal the wine, like a cake-cutting ceremony. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Heeseung walk up beside you—until everyone, including Jake, roared for him to come forward.

You watched Heeseung shake his head dismissively, but Jake’s adamant smile made him falter. For the first time, you saw a crack in Heeseung’s stern façade, a genuine sense of joy flashing through his expression.

You watched with intrigue as he stepped up, and Jake finally celebrated his twenty second. Everyone cheered as Jake popped the cork and showered Heeseung and Sunghoon with the essence.

Yeji over-excitedly gasped. During her overjoyed dance, she accidentally slipped forward, toppling her glass of wine onto your dress’s front. You quickly wiped at it, but the liquid soaked into the flimsy fabric with ease.

“Shit— sorry boo,” she cried over the music. You shook your head, dismissing her concern.

“I’m heading to the washroom,” you muttered. She nodded, unsure of your words, as the loud roaring and music drowned everything.

You slipped away from the chaos, excusing your way through until you managed to escape to the other end of the hall. You followed the dim hallway, the raucousness dissolving, as you searched for the nearest bathroom. You found a door at the far end with a staircase to your right and sped towards it.

“Long time.”

You turned, instantly freezing up.

Jay stood at the other end, speaking with his familiar calculated baritone. He stepped forward, watching your shocked expression morph into disappointment.

“Oh, seems like you’re not too happy to see me here,” he claimed, now standing a mere step away, his tone dripping with malice. “Is the princess running away again?” The darkness returned, his jaw clenched.

You gulped, standing upright. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you told him, turning away.

A bitter chuckle escaped his chest. “Of course, you don’t,” he spat. “Now that you’ve found a man, you don’t have much to say,” he claimed, running his fingers through his dark strands, his gaze menacing.

Your throat burned with hostility. “You’re ridiculous,” you huffed. “Following a girl when you’ve already got a girlfriend—seems like I dodged a bullet.” You uttered the words, disturbed by his arrogant nonchalance, and instantly the atmosphere grew with heightening tension.

Your cruel words seemed to inflict some damage as Jay’s body trembled, his fists tightening in aggravation.

Because you were right. He knew it.

As you stepped away, all common sense evaded him. He grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the wall, a gasp wrenching out of your chest as he hovered above, his hands gripping your waist with an iron grip.

“I never needed you,” he whispered, his eyes wide and pained as you attempted to free yourself, but Jay’s grip on your waist only tightened. “I’ve just liked the chase. You were so full of yourself—so pathetic. Nothing about you ever made me feel something—anything—”

A bloodcurdling scream wrenched out of your throat as a shattering sound reverberated within your frame. Your eyes bulged out, heart trashing and body quivering in horror. One second Jay was standing, staring at you like a madman, and the next, he was knocked to the ground, blood splattering against your cheeks, staining your dress and skin scarlet.

Breathe. Take a deep breath. Breathe.

You plummeted to the floor, your knees giving out as Jay’s forehead and neck covered in red pooled on the ground. You internally prepared yourself as you looked up, staring at the perpetrator.

A dull void of a gaze, Heeseung’s hand was wrapped around a half-shattered bottle with its sharpened edges dripping Jay’s blood. Your insides clenched in horror.

Heeseung stepped closer as Jay’s limp frame scrambled to sit up, his gaze chasing the danger, his grip on his head loosening as he spotted the man.

“You—you fucking lunatic—what the fuck is wrong with—”

Jay’s yelps fell on deaf ears as Heeseung discarded the bottle and plummeted to the floor before you, his pupils drained of colour and hands trembling as he caressed your cheeks. His thumb rubbed at the splashes of blood, eyes wide with terror—a terror you had never seen. More than his own actions, his line of concern was the beads of red staining your complexion.

“Hee…” you tried to speak, your throat dry and lips quivering.

“It’s okay—you’re okay,” his voice trembled as he consoled himself, more than anyone, his gaze frantically running over your body.

What you didn’t realise was Jay reaching out to grab the loitering bottle. Heeseung’s warm gaze and words were so captivating, pulling you away from the unfolding catastrophe. Suddenly, the fantasy shattered. Jay smashed the bottle against the back of Heeseung’s head.

You screamed, your body jerking alert as you pulled Heeseung into your arms, sobbing aloud. Jay stood on trembling legs, glaring at Heeseung with a poisonous look before limping away. You tightened your hold on Heeseung, your body shaking despite his grievous injury. The attack was strong enough to lash out blood but not wilful enough to break the bottle like Heeseung had done.

You tried to pull away to check his wound, but Heeseung pulled you back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Fuck. He could die right now and he’d be happy. Over the fucking moon. He almost wanted to thank that low-life for brusing him because it worked in his favour.

You gazed upon him with sympathetic attention, like you were gazing upon a wounded puppy. You were finally in his arms, letting him envelop you. He inhaled the scent of vanilla and fresh peaches, his hold on your frame tightening with desperation.

He wanted to consume you.

“Heeseung, let me see your wound,” you softly cried into his shoulder, unable to breathe at the intensity of his clutch.

“It’s not deep—nothing compared to what that moron will take home,” Heeseung arrogantly claimed. His prideful tone made your insides hurl; it reminded you of the initiation. Heeseung had started it all; he had slammed a glass bottle into Jay’s head.

You pushed him back, your gaze stern as you met his aggravated one. “Why?” You cried hysterically, recalling the insanity of the previous moment. “How could you—”

Heeseung’s expression grew colder than ice. “I’ll break every bone he used to touch you,” he declared, the honesty in his tone sending chills down your spine. 

“You literally almost murdered him!” You screeched.

Heeseung cracked a deluded smile. “He’ll wish I had.”

You felt speechless. Utterly stunned into silence. What did that mean? You wanted to assume that his fury made him speak nonsense, that he didn’t mean a word. However, when you stared into Heeseung’s gaze, your stomach turned at the resolute darkness, his words horrifyingly blunt and absurd.

You were about to call him out when you noticed trail of blood slither down the side of his face. You gasped. "You need to get to a hospital,” you urged.

“And explain what?” He scoffed with a playful smile.

You felt bewildered. Of course, you didn't care at the moment! As long as he got treated, you didn't care what lie he spat out.

You glared at him. “You need to get it checked out, Heeseung,” you muttered with concern, noticing the blood kept gushing in thicker streams.

Wordlessly, Heeseung grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and nodded as he pulled you to stand. You sighed in relief, grateful that he was finally listening. His grip never faltering on your hand, you both turned towards the venue.

Heeseung suddenly pulled you back, ignoring your confusion, instead climbing up the staircase. “What’re you doing?” You groaned, attempting to retract, but Heeseung just kept walking.

Upstairs, the living room was carpeted with posh couches and chairs. You passed by expensive paintings hung up on the wall as Heeseung took you inside a dark room, stalking through blindly until he pushed at another door.

Lights flickering on, you surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. Heeseung had brought you to a bathroom. You glanced at him in confusion as he shut the door and turned towards you.

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?”

“You said I need to get my injury checked out,” he responded, leaning down and grabbing a first aid kit from the cubby hole. “I’m doing it,” he flashed you a clever smile, his eyes shining with amusement.

Even if you were about to throw a tantrum, you couldn’t anymore. Heeseung’s words, his eyes, his smile, everything was enough for you to sit still and obey. You watched as he stepped towards the large mirror. He casually tilted his head to inspect the wound.

Expressionless, he opened up the first aid kit, grabbing a transparent bottle and cotton pads like a professional, as if he had already addressed such wounds in the past. With practised nonchalance, he soaked the cotton pad with the liquid and pressed it into the wound.

You winced, instinctively jumping forward to grab the bottle from his hand.

“Who deals with a wound like that!” You screeched hysterically.

Heeseung turned, his brows raised, lips pressed in confusion. You put forward your palm, glaring at him. He surveyed your stern expression and, to your surprise, gave in easily, handing you the stained cotton ball without putting up a fight. You had imagined he would claim he knew more—but Heeseung just stared at you passively. You gulped, edging forward.

You knew the wound was deeply ingrained on the right side of his head, but reaching it was an issue. You were a good half a person shorter than him, his towering frame allowing you to reach only his chest. Standing on your tiptoes, you could only make it to his collarbone. You tried pushing up to reach the mark, but it remained physically impossible.

You noticed the amusement sparking in his expression, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “What’s so funny?” You gruffly questioned, and his smile only grew more.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, setting you on the cold basin. He turned, towering between your parted legs.

“There.”

You quickly recovered, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your chest or the heat stirring from where he had just touched you. You reached up. The angle allowed you to address the wound better.

Thankfully, there was a single cut, slashing down to the nape. You held the cotton against the cut, letting it absorb the blood, and then gently swirled it across.

Heeseung’s breathing suddenly grew heavy, and you flinched, quickly scanning his face for hints of pain. “Is it too bad?” You muttered, your eyes wide and voice reluctantly soft.

He nodded. It was painful, so unbearably agonising like he was thrown into a fuming furnace, burning and dying, then reincarnating and burning every breath he spent in your vicinity.

His fists tightened, his gaze tracing your attentive expression, your lips puckered in deep concentration, hands so gentle, like a mother’s touch—or what Heeseung assumed must’ve been had he ever felt one. The past month he only dreamed of this moment—to have you before him, launched between his legs, attending only to him.

You cleaned up his wound with precision. He had practice, but your touch was magical—a healing balm of its own.

“Have you done this for anyone else?” His question came out gruffer than expected, his stomach twisting as he imagined you perched on a sink like this for someone else.

You finished cleaning up, moving to grab the bandage. “Of course not,” you huffed, peeling the bandaid from the wrapper.

“I just know I’m not supposed to stab wounds like that,” you sarcastically claimed, reminded of him jabbing his head. “You’re the future doctor… you should know this,” you leaned to the side, pressing the band-aid into his scalp.

“They teach us how to treat,” he stated. “Whatever gets the job done,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help but grimace at his words.

“If you don’t treat with the element of pain in mind, you’ll hurt yourself more.”

Heeseung's throat was suddenly tighter than normal.

You wiped your hands with a tissue. Shifting closer, you inspected Heeseung’s injury one more time. You were about to get off the sink when you noticed glimmering bits of glass nestled in his hair. Impulsively, you reached out, flicking the strands.

“Oh—!” You jerked away, your finger cut by an unseen sharp edge that pierced the flesh.

Before the blood even oozed out, Heeseung sprang forward, grabbing your wrist, his gaze wide with horror as he impulsively pulled your finger into his mouth.

An astonished gasp escaped your chest.

Wide-eyed, you watched Heeseung suck around your finger.

At the first drop of your blood against his tongue, Heeseung’s eyes screwed shut, his body heating up, the metallic taste mixed with your skin’s sweetness creating a delicious buzz within his taste buds. Maybe if he drank enough, you'd really become a part of his being; if he fused your blood with his, you'd somehow become his.

He lapped at the drop incessantly, his hand reaching to lock your wrist in place as he covered your finger with saliva.

There was a shift in the air. You felt it in your bones.

As he looked up, meeting your eyes while simultaneously drenching your finger inside his mouth, your body began to heat up. A burn ignited at the centre of your legs, your imagination running wild, your limbs quivering.

Time became meaningless as he revelled in the euphoric bliss. When he noticed you weren’t pulling away or flinching, his muscles clenched with want. Instead, your cheeks were redd, eyes fluttering in bashfulness. Warmth in his blood shot lower, pooling within his sensitive region.

A thrum vibrated his own being as Heeseung popped another finger into his mouth, his sucking growing intense, lascivious, and hungrier. Your body jolted as his slick enveloped your digits, his tongue tirelessly flicking and tasting.

You wanted to intervene and stop this madness, but suddenly you couldn’t find your voice. Your throat refused to cooperate, and your lips denied any help.

His gaze was trained on your expressions, every blink, every gasp. He wanted to memorise the way your cheeks blushed scarlet and mouth opened in silent gasps. You were so beautiful, so perfect, so his.

“Hee—” you managed to choke out.

Heeseung’s hardness jerked in his pants, his body shaking with want. You had just attempted to say his name.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away and yanked you to the floor. You fell against his chest, your feet staggering on the marble floor, a stunned gasp escaping your mouth. He didn’t let you process it, his moves sharp and abrupt.

Your jaw dropped as you felt the tent of arousal straining against your abdomen. Your underwear was drenched, muscles taut as the reality dawned upon you. Lee Heeseung wanted you.

“Feel that—fuck—do you feel it?” He rasped against your ear, his hardened tone and body making you forget any coherent response, your body tensing up in his embrace. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful—stunning—so breathtaking. You make me—” His voice cracked as he felt nestled his nose against your neck, sniffing like a dog.

“Make you…” you pleaded for him to continue, craving his validation.

“Make me pathetic—so damn pathetic,” he blurted, his mind elsewhere as he sucked onto your earlobe.

His kisses ran down your neck, and he urgently flicked the hair away to feast. He pressed his lips gently, wanting to savour every moment and worship every inch, but within the first contact, his patience was out the window. He pushed his throbbing body into yours, knocking you against the sink as his mouth opened wide, biting into your flesh.

His mind fell numb as your taste and scent drove him to the brink of euphoria. He found it strange how you turned him into a quivering virgin mess with just this.

Your gasps reverberated in the bathroom walls, your frame quivering.

His touch was desperate, persistent like he was holding onto you for dear life. Fingers interlocked in your strands, body shaking with restrain as his mouth devoured your neck, you felt lost in a sea of pure bliss. You hadn’t had many sexual experiences in your life, but whatever make out sessions you had shared with boys in first year didn’t live up to this feeling, this hunger— from him.

“Ah!”

Every hair on his body stood alert. Your sounds were so pretty just like your body. He knew he couldn’t live without absolutely breaking your resilience. He had to tear through your exterior and drag out the vulnerable girl who moves to his rhythm, sings to his beat and responds to his call.

“Heeseung—Ah!” Your body tensed, his name falling from your mouth as his kisses grew frantic, prolonged. You were so flustered that you felt the world knock off its axis. You urgently held onto his tense shoulders, hoping you wouldn't fall over with the intensity of his want.

Had it been any other girl in his arms, anyone, he’d have thrown her on the floor and fulfilled his depraved desires. He’d have coerced her lust, used and abused her body like a mere object for his release. He wanted to do the same to you like he’d envisioned every night.

But you weren’t any girl. You weren't a momentary escape. For the first time in his life, he wanted it both: lust and love. He wanted to ruin you for everyone— not just physically but emotionally. He wanted your body and your soul.

And you were the sole reason he unwillingly held back, restrained his desire to rip you apart.

Breathless and flustered, you struggled to gather your thoughts. Your body was begging for him, but you couldn’t look past the reality.

This was Lee Heeseung, the hottest playboy, the genius, the most eligible bachelor in Korea—and most importantly, your brother’s best friend. You were calling his name so embarrassingly, and you were certain going all the way, he’d have nothing to do with you after tonight. He was like a forbidden fruit, so effortlessly desirable but never yours.

He will never be yours.

Your eyes burned with tears. You had managed to like him so much, and tonight it would crumble apart. Just the way you had ended up running from Jay, you should run from Heeseung before he takes your heart with him.

Determined, you pushed against him. The sudden move knocked him away, his reddened face twisting in confusion and frustration at the distance.

You quickly stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on your face. Your complexion as red as a cherry, eyes shining, indicating hints of your previous bliss; Heeseung had littered red and purple marks all over your neck, his saliva still warming your flesh.

Behind you, Heeseung appeared, wrapping his arms around your waist. His eyes locked onto your reflection, his gaze darkening as it traced the curve of your neck. The heat between you intensified, his desire becoming evident as he pressed his aching body into yours. His eyes fluttered shut, savouring the sensation of your soft curves against him.

Embarrassingly, your abdomen clenched again.

“T—this is wrong. Stop,” you babbled, pushing him away, your dejected tone falling on deaf ears as he pressed into you again. “Heeseung—” You turned, using all your force to push him away. He looked up, his eyes clearly unfocused.

The bathroom was getting stuffy now. His unnerving gaze made it hard to breathe. You stepped away, yanking the bathroom door open and rushing out into the bleak room, your breathing unnecessarily heavy. Your body was aching with arousal, wanting to go back into his arms and give yourself up.

Heeseung shot out, grabbing your waist and jerking you into his hold, his heavy breaths lingering against your earlobe. You tried pulling away when suddenly he whipped you around.

With darkness blinding your vision, you couldn’t evade him as he yanked you into his chest and slammed his lips into yours.

The taste of cherries overwhelmed your senses, your body liquifying as he immediately plunged his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.

Every instant in his life had brought him to this moment. He knew it when he kissed your mouth, licked your tongue, traced your gums—he knew you were meant for him. Your beauty was his to ruin. Your taste was his to devour. Your love was his to take.

A strange sensation flared up in his chest, spreading to his heart. For the first time, all his medical knowledge felt useless—he didn’t even feel human because even they could identify sensations.

Heeseung cupped your jaw, his lips trembling as he took in all your taste had to offer. His teeth clashed with yours, and his saliva dripped down your chin, his tongue rolling against yours as he poured an overwhelming flood of unnamed emotions into you.

His erection pressed against your lower stomach as he kissed you breathlessly. Suddenly, he was tearing at his buttons, desperate to feel your skin against his.

His kiss felt urgent, charged with arousal. You felt like you would blow into tattered pieces with the intensity of his touch, his deprivation and lust. Your fingers ran through his tousled strands, clenching for semblance of control as he sucked the soul out of you.

Your lungs flared up in discomfort due to the limited oxygen supply. You gasped, pushing at his shoulders with all your strength. Heeseung’s grip didn’t falter. Your gasps grew more strained and alarming. Only when you felt tears blurring your vision did Heeseung relent.

Both of you panted like dogs, heaving breaths echoing through the room.

“Stop it!” You screamed, pushing him away as you blindly searched for the exit. 

Yellow lights flickered on, the sudden burst blinding you momentarily. Heeseung stood like a barrier blocking the door, his advantage clear as he seemed to have the room mapped out in his head.

Pupils blown out, he panted, his gaze clouded with the need to ravage and devour you whole. His undone button-down hung the shoulders, revealing honey toned chest and tense abs, descending lower into his pants. Your mouth dried up, but you forced yourself to remain unfeeling.

You voiced out, “Let me go—”

“Why?” He asked gruffly. His eyes locked onto your trembling orbs, his brows arching in frustration.

“I can’t have you?” He whispered.

His words were laced with provocation. He hadn’t felt such an urgency to ruin someone, ever. He ached to feel your skin against his. He was hurting to fill you. If you wanted, he would plummet to his knees, stick out his tongue and shamelessly beg, plead. 

You looked at him with indifference. “You’re my brother’s—”

“So what?” He barked, his abrupt interruption making your breath stutter.

He stepped closer until he had you pressed against the wall, his arms on either side, locking you in place. You hadn’t expected him to be this eager. Why did he care? A man like Heeseung could get any woman on earth. One look and they’d drop their panties to the floor. Your glare grew more acrimonious at the realisation.

You pushed at his chest, your fingers grazing his warm skin, lighting up fireworks in your system. “I refuse to be your one-night fantasy, Heeseung,” you stuttered, unshed tears slipping out.

The fury in his gaze collapsed, his lips parting in stunned horror.

This was your chance…to run free, to protect whatever’s left of your heart. Hastily, you dashed to the door, your grip pulling at the handle when suddenly Heeseung was behind you, enveloping your waist.

You screamed and struggled, your feet kicking the air as he carried you away and tossed you onto the bed. You fought against his manhandling, punching and pushing against him, but he just stared at you like you were a weak feline lashing out.

He let you burst out until your energy had depleted and you fell limp.

“You’re fucking joking,” he laughed, disbelief coursing through his frame. “One night fantasy?” He spat, his fists tightening at the audacity of your words.

You stared back, matching his intensity. “Isn’t it famously known?" You huffed. “You don’t touch a woman you’ve had once,” you snarled, your tone dripping with hostility.

That sent him spiralling. “I don’t,” he declared. He watched the spark in your eyes die down, tears running down your cheeks. You attempted to get up, but Heeseung dropped to his knees, his hands scrambling to cup your face.

His heart pounded so hard, that he felt its drumming within his entire being. “You’re not any woman,” his voice cracked, his throat tightening as he kissed your tears one by one. “You’re mine."

He hadn’t said anything more honest in his entire life.

Yet, you looked at him the same—awfully sceptical, disbelieving. He had attempted to pour out his heart, claim you as his, but you gazed at him like he was a liar, a deceiver. Heeseung dropped his arms, anger surging within his blood.

“You don’t believe me,” he declared, his tone laced with bitter sarcasm.

You wanted to so badly—but you had no reason to. Why would he fall for you?

You watched as Heeseung’s gaze frantically scoured the room.

Something ominous was happening. You felt your stomach twist. You called his name, but he turned away, dashing towards the study table. You stared in confusion as he grabbed his car key. 

Without any warning, Heeseung struck the sharp edge into his chest, stabbing himself in his sternum. A scream lurched out your throat, your breath stuttering as you attempted to get to him. He forced the key inside, tearing through the flesh in a line. Blood gushed through the wound, but Heeseung’s concentration remained firm.

“What the fuck— stop-stop!” You screeched, finally getting a hold of his arm.

He didn’t stop, still working on creating the art piece he wanted you to see. You felt lightheaded as you fought against his determined actions. Unable to knock him back into reality, you decided to fling at the key, letting it slip from his grasp.

Horror ceased your chest. The scarred flesh formed a letter— your initial. You gazed up at him, your throat constricting as a soul-stirring chill escalated down your spine.

“If I carve you in my blood, will you believe me?” A pained gaze, a torn heart, a horrifying smile.

Your limbs trembled.

You glanced at the wound, lips parting in silent horror.

This was absurd— absolute madness. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, but you knew it was awfully dangerous like playing with fire or chasing a lion into its den. You should be scared— fearing for your life. You should escape right now when you have the chance. You should run and never look back.

There are many shoulds' you encounter in life, but none of them hold any value when something as desirable holds you by the throat. Someone as irresistibly horrifying as Lee Heeseung. Whatever you did next, you knew your fate was sealed. Even if you ran, you couldn't outrun him-- and somewhere in the pool of longing in your depraved heart, you didn't want to. You didn't want to find a way out.

You leaned down and wrapped your lips around his honey peck, swirling your tongue and licking the scarlet oozing from his self-inflicted wound, surprising yourself as you swallowed it down. 

Life and death stood at a standstill. Had you pushed him away, he’d still have ruined you, broken your soul to pieces and killed himself over hurting you. But you chose to acknowledge, indulge in his pained longing, accepting it like a lover's call, making him want to live more— chase more— love more. 

Vision glazed, heart thundering against his chest, he wrapped you in a breathless embrace.

Amid the chaos, a strained voice invaded the room. “Hee— fuck, we’ve got a problem.” 

Your head shot towards the door, eyes wide with fear. 

Fuck.

Your brother was at the door.

A rampant knock. “Hee— you in there?” Jake's voice spilt into the heated room, your body freezing. Heeseung didn't even spare the door a glance as he pressed himself within your body.

“They’ve come looking for drugs— I don’t know who’s called but the police are searching the place.”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets, jaw-dropping in horror.

Drugs? Police? 

Instead of concern or a slight hint of fear, Heeseung’s grip tightened on your wrists, and he attacked your lips, invading your mouth. You gasped, caught off guard, your jaw opening in a silent gasp. He swallowed your protests, his hands releasing your wrists to grope your butt-cheeks as he hoisted you up in his arms while sucking on your bottom lip. 

“Bro— are you seriously fucking someone right now?” Jake’s incredulous tone made you want to dig a hole and bury yourself inside.

Heeseung’s grip on your buttocks tightened, his groans purposefully filling the room like a silent message for Jake. His knees gave out, knocking you down, your body crashing into the bed as he vigorously unbuckled his jeans. His warm tongue feasted through your mouth, swallowing your complaints, his head lolling into your shoulders as he pressed wet, hasty bites down your neck. 

Another knock. 

“Fuck— Heeseung get out here! They’ve arrested Jongseong.”

You gasped.

What the fuck?

Heeseung paused.

Through glazed vision, he stared down at you. His lips slowly formed a smile that made every hair on your body rise.

Kim Sunoo had really come through, orchestrating a flawless drug raid, planting the evidence in Jongseong's bags and vanishing without a trace. Jay would waste away five years in prison for drug possession— barely enough to atone for the pain he gave you, hopefully enough to erase the longing that fucker held for you. Heeseung knew he owed his partner in crime a bottle of Soju next time Sunoo visited their shared farmhouse.

“Heeseung, we should—”

Heeseung licked your mouth, holding your trembling body in place, his fingers desperately tugging at your straps. Despite your persistence, he didn’t care for anything at the moment. Someone could tell him that the entire house was on fire or that the universe had collided into a meteor, crumbling to bits and pieces, and he’d still ignore it all.

For now, he will spend every second making you his—until his love is conveyed through his hunger, until his touch leaves scars and burns on your soul, until you love him enough to bleed him dry.

[vimook]

first thoughts are about how really comfortable and warmed up rak has become to mut's innate affection. he quite literally scootches closer and closer to mut, the more he feels the consistent tender care radiating from him like a moth is attracted to light (and this is not derogatory at all, i love moths). mut is quite literally the star that rak orbits around and is drawn to. the fact that we're able to witness the gradual development of that shift is top tier writing and directing.

i also want to highlight how mut keeps letting him know that he can indeed lean on him and rak does like it's the most natural thing in the world, in his world at that. as someone who has always had to rely on solemnly himself, it is quite a feat how easily he allowed himself to break that mold.

he says it himself,

just like the characters that will end up being each other's shelter in one way or another, and that last part is very important for me because rak is beginning to realize that the love he thought was only in his imagination, in the very same characters he now relates to, might actually be a reality. what he doesn't realize yet is that the moment that he's in right now, is one of the many calms before a storm. and that he's going to have to choose that shelter, that safe place, that strength every single day. just like he did that night when, in the face of his greatest terror, he chose to give that coldness, a strong embrace and warmth, rather than feed it. he chose to stay. he chose that some things can be held. he chose that he doesn't have to be alone.

sidenote: the color grading and lighting in the bed scene are excellence because the warmth and the cold meet all at once

that he doesn't have to leave.

that he can be and is loved.

that he matters.

that he isn't taken for granted.

that his presence in people's lives has meaning and is cherished.

and that he must and can hold that in.

that he knows how to love better than he thinks, and that will be the challenge. entering mahasamut, who wants to be helpful. who worries. who wants to love. who stays. who is the calm before the storm but who will soon start to feel like the most terrifying and beautiful storm in rak's life. that often means regressing to self-sabotage and old habits. freeze in your fears. be hesitant about being surprised and unfolding something new.

i think i have spoken a lot on how i feel about mut's selflessness and each time he chooses to love someone, there is a little boy still hoping he can receive an ounce of what he gives, though he never really asks for anything back. but he's human. you can work on your trauma all your life and there will still be moments where you're the one who needs to be chosen and embraced. you can be love and still want to feel loved. sometimes you just would like to take some for yourself. so, question is whether you can love in chaos. because for me, mahasamut is so used to navigating other people's chaos that he doesn't give space for his own so each time he asks something of tongrak, reminds him of something. he might want an actual answer back. he might want to be asked about how much he holds on to people, about how much he doesn't want to disappoint them, about how much he doesn't want someone to leave. how much he doesn't like to not find someone he loves next to him in bed after holding them.

[inkher0]

I need some advice if you don't mind… I've been dating this guy for about two years. Well, now he wants to end the relationship because he is trying to live his youth. He is twenty-two years old. I'm a little older, only a year, and I don't know how to deal with it because he wants to take some time, but then come back, if that makes sense? I really thought he was the one, but I don't know whether to continue with him or not.

Oh bestie you came to the right person with this one. Im gonna hold you gently and give you some nice warm cocoa, because I might say something you won't like.

First of all: "exploring my youth" is probably lie, and you probably know that. He's got something he wants to do that he feels he can't do while in a relationship, so he thinks he can break things off temporarily, go do that thing, and then come right back. To be blunt, darling, it sounds like he wants to cheat on you but doesn't want you to punish him for it. Open relationships are fine (I did the same while in college) but it sounds like that's not how he worded it.

The question is, are you okay with that? Are you okay with him taking this relationship you cherish, putting it in a closet, and then taking it back out again when it suits HIS needs? And now that he's done this, are you okay with idea of him doing it again? What about a third time? A fourth?

YOU are young. YOU are vibrant. You're beautiful, smart, funny, intelligent, you're everything. YOU should be living your youth. And waiting for this guy(derogatory) to decide you're the best thing to ever happen to him? That's not living your life. You're not some side character in his story that comes in and out when the reader's bored. You've got plenty of time to find love, so why wait for him?

Interact with the world like you're single- flirt, go on dates, etc.- and watch how he treats you in the coming weeks. That'll tell you everything you need to know.

[stinkyeyeball]

Here's a rant nobody wanted, but I just rewatched The Addams Family (1991) and I have THOUGHTS about why their family dynamic is so comforting to me and many others.

Firstly, even though Addams blood has deep significance in the film, the expectations that often come with family do not apply. Fester is away for multiple years, he makes the family briefly homeless, he deeply betrays those who trust him, and yet he is welcomed back into the family again and again. Also, not only blood relatives are welcomed in; it's clear that even others are welcomed with open arms as long as they do not judge any member of the family. For example, this is seen with Margaret, ex-wife of the Addams lawyer turned Cousin It's partner, being treated the same as any other family member at the end of the film. In the end, what makes the family is not blood, or amassed riches, or a feeling of loyalty; it is the deep care the characters feel for each other. When the family loses their house, it's not concern for money that makes them miserable (derogatory), but for Gomez a hurt over losing his brother once again and for Morticia a concern for her depressed husband. Obviously there's an element of privilege here as well in that they have never needed to care about money, but it's also such a strength that it's no surprise that most other relationships end up orbiting that dynamic as foils or being sucked in, the characters becoming Addamses themselves.

Secondly, I really love the way the film portrays the characters' various oddities. Sure, the movie is overwhelmingly white and there are some stereotypes that aren't great. But just focusing on the endless quotable one-liners they roll out, a very specific approach shines through. Commonly "bad" descriptions such as "slob" or "evil" or "maniac" are embraced as part of the characters' identities, inseparable from them as people if one should even want to attempt it. It's not hidden, or explained away, it's just there along with everything else. When the family lose their home, the office worker asks Morticia if her husband is a loafer, a hopeless layabout, a shiftless dreamer? With a sad look she responds, "Not anymore." Nurturing each other's interests and personal development is a core value of the family, and she's not worried that he's not providing - she's worried that he's stagnated in a way that makes him suffer (that's her job, after all).

Adding on to that point, even disability is portrayed in a very beautiful way. Cousin It not speaking in a way we understand as watchers is never a gag, and we see him interacting with others and developing a seemingly well-functioning relationship to Margaret (who also, by the way, develops from a stereotypical nagging wife to an Addams). Thing is able to communicate perfectly well with the family through sign language and sheer personality, and the family cherishes him and shows him great respect. He is never tossed around as a gag or ignored because he cannot verbalise. The thought would be outlandish. What I especially love, though, is the way these characters are also treated not only as equals, but as fully fleshed out personalities. The thing is an grinder dad friend who stutters when he's stressed and likes to mess with Fester. Cousin It is a great dancer who comes up with wild ideas and listens to rock. This is not to say that they would not have these traits were it not for the Addamses, but the family makes room for them, sees them and loves the characters for them.

This got so long and there's so much more I could say, but whatever. As a queer, most likely autistic, generally weird person who's fallen off the curve due to mental issues it is just indescribably comforting to have a place to go where I have no doubt I'd be fully accepted, no raised eyebrows or passive aggressive comments to fear. Even if it's fictional, knowing that such characters and such love can exist becomes real in its own way.

[libertasforte]

Me: I don’t know what to do about Childe please help T_T Arlecchino: Throw the patriarchy at it

Within the standard heterosexual script, Childe would fuck Arlecchino but there’s no reason for him to be exclusive to her. The only reason this works is because Arlecchino could eliminate all competitors (unalive) if she wanted.

But that runs counter to Arlecchino’s ego and what she wants. I would describe what she wants as to collect people (women), keep them under her care, and have them be the most beautiful version of themselves. She’s not a widowmaker, she’s not a black widow. If Arlecchino loved Childe as a male, then the most beautiful version of him, the logical result of her ego investment in Childe would be: a male lead to a countably infinite procession of women. And to take care of him and to cherish him as such.

I don’t know that many of you here are familiar with the tropes in a harem manga but there’s two I’ve read that have a woman who is dominant to the protagonist, and it is depicted so that the sexual conquests of the male lead are under the auspices and the domain of that female character. But he doesn’t fuck her - in one of them, maybe he would, but it’s presented as a goal that may happen at the end of the story.

But also these women are not dominatrixes, they don’t touch the male lead, and they would rather have the male lead conquer other women. (So it’s not arlechi.) Are they mommy? I would say that they have a masculine edge - an investment in sexual conquest - that makes them distinct from a mommy character. And Arlecchino is like that, too.

With Genshin Impact imitating the structure of a harem story, I think Arlecchino fulfills this role to the male protagonist. And Childe: Childe’s function as a romanceable male for a female protagonist is secondary to his role as the “best friend” character in a harem story, who will help the protagonist get the woman he wants.

But at that point, can’t you just… remove the protagonist from the picture? Have them be the ones who are together? Have them be the ones who have a harem?

This is tartacchino; this is the function they were written for, this is the function they fulfill, this is their existence and this is their love. And they’re so happy; who cares.

(I want to say that Genshin Impact isn’t an uncritical imitation of the harem story - there’s a reason that Childe and Arlecchino are villains. Tartacchino is when you go “yes, unironically, harem”)

Zeroeth wife:

First wife:

After I realized that I had to put these two men (derogatory) together, I ran into the problem of how to actually ship them. My answer was that I could just ship them in a yuri way - if anything, I was sure that Arlecchino had enough power to bring Childe over into the yuri side. But the problem with this was that there was no way that they felt safe enough to express any of their emotions or their reality.

I think they were drawn to Chiori because 1. Some sort of assurance that she is clearly the wife in the picture, 2. Her grounded energy, 3. Her ability to fight for them and defend them, and to scare.

And that’s how she got them to open up. She did the job, she got it done, and left (psychologically).

She is a woman who takes pride in her work and her existence, and that’s her place in the meta. She makes a clean cut, leaves, leaving a doll behind (to provide her symbolic presence). If her existence hurts your ego, then a minor upgrade to the mono geo team is something you can safely ignore. You can use Albedo - another competent off-field geo damage dealer, and he’s a lot more unassuming than Chiori is. He can generate a flower every 4 seconds, which is a lot easier to use than Chiori. But Chiori does more damage, and her dolls don’t break like Albedo’s flowers do.

Will there be more wives? We’ll see T_T

[elvain]

1, 3, 5, 9, 10, 24, 25 for the year in review . hi mk

did u ask enough questions. did u wanna ask more.

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? How did it turn out? Would you do it again?

i wrote in second person POV for the first time ever with visions of the self! it was a really interesting experience. writing in second person POV forces you to think a lot more about the character themselves and that can be hard for writing purposes. when we write, we can fill up a chapter or passage with exposition or dialogue or general descriptions/storytelling. with second person POV, all you have is your character and how they feel/think. that being said, it's definitely something i would wanna explore in the coming year.

3. What piece of media inspired you the most?

oh, bridgerton, for sure. once upon a time, i would have been embarrassed to admit it, but not anymore! The Beau Monde was inspired entirely by bridgerton and 95% of it was written while listening to various soundtracks by string instrument groups + the official bridgerton soundtrack. i have rewatched this series more times than i care to count.

5. What ship(s) captured your heart?

there is a variety, actually! i really fell in love with johnnywyatt, which inspired dream a little dream of me. i learned about daeronmaglor only a week ago and already have a kinslayer in the woods. i have a new fic coming next year, inspired by alison blaire/jen walters. i have another fic of aragorn/eomer and still another one of eomer/lothiriel. lastly, i wrote Good Food, Good Mood and completed gave myself over to the wonderbeast of it all.

9. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

All Those Who Wander. it's always satisfying to finish a fic, but finishing a 14.6k fic in 2.5 days is another feeling altogether. i'm very proud of my writing and my dedication to this story. as a lucky bonus, the quality of the writing worked out, too ;)

10. What fic was the most difficult to write? Did you finish it?

The Beau Monde. not a single doubt in my mind about it. i have a very long history of writing, both fic and non-fic, and i always thought i was used to posting things and not receiving a huge amount of feedback or love for them. coming back to fic with regards to marvel comics highlighted that for me, and i like to think i overcame it well enough! but The Beau Monde was by far my most niche and self-indulgent fic, which evidently comes with a marked reduction in the interest and feedback that it generated for me. on one hand, it made me cherish all the feedback and reading i did get even more! but on the other, it made writing the fic harder than i expected. in the end, this story went from having 38-40 chapters to about 26. but i did finish it and the last chapter went up today and i am immeasurably proud. :)

24. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

first and foremost, brieuc. secondly, everyone that has read or commented or kudos'd my writing. i recently joined the fotfics discord server, which is sooo helpful, and of course, i have to mention the multiverse of madness (derogatory).

25. What’s something you want to write in 2024?

my wlw dimension hopping fic is COMING. i'm also interested to explore more of tolkien's rohan. and i think i wanna start writing more wlw in general! The Beau Monde really helped with my confidence re: writing wlw and i'm excited for more.

end of year fanfic asks

[vilonnie]

I have distracting brainrot + this is the brainrot website here are some vague key points of VW which I could probs write an essay on but I need to get it out of my system (mostly claudethoughts):

two protagonists who don't know what's going on fighting for what is thematically a misfit underdog nation that nobody else respects who don't share the theatric tragedy of the tormented fodlan royals born into high esteem, which I think is why the as previously stated misfit-underdog route may appeal to some people more than a classic tragic hero (dimitri) or martyred chosen one (edelgard) route

^ reworded this several times to avoid sounding derogatory towards dimi and el because I like them too I just want to go through the obvious reasons why g'deer feels so tonally different

golden deer has the closest and most consistently strong/positive relationships + dynamics between classmates as opposed to the other houses whose secondary characters tend to have more complicated and loaded feelings toward one another, but I think the reason that the consistent power of friendship writing works so well for me here is because when the deer reconcile so lightly and easily again and again it's a response to the route's overall themes of isolation. golden deer found family forever etc etc

they have the power of god and anime on their side

the notable association of claude with edelgard and vice versa is probably for heterosexual reasons courtesy of the writing team or someone on it lol which I don't mind because they're both bi to me anyway but I think it's more interesting to think about it as a friendship-that-could've-been dynamic because even though they have similar ideals and could've worked together with better communication/compromise of course the golden day protag and the blackest night antag are doomed to kill each other over and over and can never reconcile lmao. also contributes to the scarlet blaze bad end being my favorite route in that game

there's a slight note of bitterness when claude speaks to or about the other lords which I think is probably is more to do with either his own self-image or the way he's perceived than anything else. yet he was still the one the writers chose to insist that he and the other two were friends in the cindered shadows story and to staunchly (and explicitly naively) claim that war between them was impossible. which is interesting to me

claude and rhea vs khalid and seiros. you know?

no matter what you have to strive for knowledge and understanding of each other and of our world

no matter what you have to strive to cultivate and cherish your bonds of friendship even after a life of loneliness

thinking also about how even though ultimately it is vital to sympathize with and humanize seiros it can still be said that nemesis vs seiros, as well as seiros and wilhelm's initial conquest that created adrestria, is a cycle that repeats itself in rhea vs edelgard, as well as the reunification of adrestia. edelgard ironically becomes seiros here in that she is a "chosen one" fighting to be strong enough so that the trauma they experienced when vulnerable can never happen to their people ever again, though it can be argued that when they come to power over the land they will inadvertently perpetuate other injustices themselves

so if crimson flower is about exploring cycles then verdant wind is about breaking them, hence it being the only route that brings the game full circle with its opening cutscene, and why relations with almyra are brought up so frequently in concurrence with the foundational history of fodlan (i.e. the timeline regarding the construction of fodlan's locket and garreg mach)

and to do this you need KNOWLEDGE and FRIENDSHIP!!!!!!!!!!

in the end, again, it is always about understanding

claude and byleth is about how if you feel like you're all alone and the only freak of your kind among your peers do not worry! there is a circle of ride-and-die weirdos just waiting for you to become attached at a truly unnatural pace <3

hilda and claude is actually one of the most interesting relationships for me because I love their whole rose-colored boy vibe they have going on like with the "hand heart even my neck" quote which is unironically my favorite and I think has a lot of implicit nuance, the relationship has a lot of risk/danger to it inherently but snowballs into such casual trust it leaves you breathless, even though the environments they were raised in would suggest they should be afraid of each other and each other's natural enemy, I think it's because they cultivated such a lighthearted, mundane, fun-loving teenage friendship that the weight of their absolute devotion and loyalty to each other later on feels meaningful, the "imposter complex gf who sucks (affectionate)" and "deranged workaholic bf who won't let up" dynamic is so fun and I think just as hilda allows claude to relax and open up claude motivates hilda to expect more from herself and be her best self, I love how despite his self-image hilda sees so much kindness and integrity in claude and despite her self-image claude sees so much strength and brilliance in hilda, also since I have problems I like how they die in crimson flower lol

aaaaaaauguughgh. sword lord

ok thats enough for now

[rywritten]

how did you get into both dreamnap and dreamnoblade? where is the connect and the appeal, i really want to know.

ive answered a pretty similar question to this before (which you can read here) but since this is asking for both dreamnap and dreamnoblade, ill try to answer as best and as detailed as i can. please note that some parts will be a direct copy of my previous post, but all in all this is pretty much the entirety of my dsmp experience, meaning there's lots of new Ry lore™ to read about lmao

so, without further ado,

here's a real-time recap of my slow decent to madness pt. 2 (aka falling in love with Dreamnap and DNB, then starting a side blog dedicated to these two amazing ships™)

includes reaction memes for funsies and also to provide a visual for all of my recent emotions as i traverse the dsmp fandom firsthand

ok, let's gooooooooo

starting this off with how i got into dsmp in general. so i actually knew about dsmp way back when the fandom was just starting (bc who didn't? this fandom was the talk of the town (derogatory) given the hate most people gave it for being #cringe) ive seen the way other fandoms have clowned dsmp fans (mainly dream stans) and i for one, did not enjoy being clowned at, so yeah i dipped and did not look into the lore too much given the circumstances. at that time, i didn't really know anyone except for c!dream given that he was the one (1) character that piqued my interest, and he stuck to me bc of the smiley face mask and i really liked the fanarts i saw of him back then, even when i had no interest to join the fandom back then.

(narrator voice, ominous: she was in it for a surprise)

visual image of myself (back in December 2021, ignorant of what's to become of me later on)

so flashforward to the year 2022 where nothing is real except for the eraser shavings on my desk and the half finished wips collecting pixelated dust on my laptop for months and boom i was reintroduced to dsmp but this time there was interest bc this time around, i was reintroduced to c!dream via a really nice animation by sadist and since i had no other fandom to hyperfixate on during these trying time, my lizard brain was all like:

but as soon as i consumed every sadist dsmp animation known to man, i realized something very quickly, my love for c!dream is all encompassing, but there's still room in my heart for maybe two (2) more characters, which i why i was led to the simple conclusion of finding more characters to love and cherish along with dream, hence why i found sap and techno, my two other beloved.

so my love for dream, sapnap, and techno is rooted on the fact that i personally love all of their character designs, also i just find it quite fascinating how powerful and dangerous their characters are individually, and at that moment, my brain went decided to ask me a question that would change everything:

my brain 🧠: what would they be like together?

me 🤡: you mean like a team, right? platonically??

my brain 🧠, crackling: no.

[cue alarm bells ringing in my head]

so yeah, the possiblity of shipping c!dream with the two other characters ive come to know and love was now a very big possibility (mainly bc i want my fav boy (c!dream) to be loved and cherished, and who better to love and cherish c!dream than my two other favs???) <- sound logic, me thinks.

so after maybe two hours of looking for fanarts of the characters dubbed as a green teletubby, an arsonist, and the blood god (all in that order) ive found etcetera art's insta and twt account, full of amazing fanarts of all three of them, and i knew i was onto something when i wanted to see all three of them together...

(note that scavenging through twt for a dsmp fanart is a nightmare if you don't really care abt the other characters, bc let me tell you, you will end up finding more fanarts of that character than who you were looking for in the first place)

so a lot more digging around and i found out something very important about sap and techno when it comes to dream:

for sapnap: "And they're childhood friends in the lore. oh man, they're childhood friends in the lore???"

and for techno: "And they're rivals in the lore. oh man, they're rivals in the lore????"

i zoomed in on these two facts immediately and began my quest to look for more animatics, fanarts, and even fanfiction focusing on two things: dream and sap's dynamic AND dream and techno's dynamic. i looked for content regarding their rivalry and friendship and i even found the tags #rivalstwt / #rivalsduo (for dream and techno, which i initially thought was considered both platonic and romantic, so you could imagine the sheer devastation i felt after finding out on the same day that shipping them is not in fact considered "morally acceptable")

and for sap and dream, i found the tag #dreamnap (which, as it turns out is not as popular or as widely accepted as i thought it would be, surprising given that dreamnap oozes childhood friends to lovers so much, i thought everyone loved childhood friends to lovers???)

(me, as soon as i realized i was the only one in the c!technodreamnap agenda, i will not be stopped)

initially i was ok with the whole platonic rivalry (for techno and dream) and the friendship (for sap and dream), but the more i was fed this idea that shipping c!dream and c!techno is wrong, the more i felt compelled to like it. and the lack of fan works for dreamnap was getting to me, i was itching to make my own fics for these two ships the moment my two braincells connected and formed a critical thought.

plus, i already knew i was going to fall in love with BOTH dreamnap and dnb (bc dnf is just so boring and this ship never appealed to me even back then plus karlnapity isn't for me, i dont like q and k lmao) the moment i found out that they're the three strongest characters in the dsmp lore + the other canon events in the story like doomsday and the life debt dnb keep owing each other throughout each important event is enough fuel for me to keep this ship sailing, and the fact that despite how they only consider each other as business partners, c!techno still rescued c!dream from prison knowing the risk and c!dream still remembers the mountain where they first met (how am i not going to romanticize this? how??)

and then there's the fall of dremanap in the canon lore, the heavy implications, the angst, and the fact that no matter what happens, they are each other's downfall as much as they love and care for the other (that's some very fucked up trope that we all need in a childhood friends to enemies to lovers dynamic, imho)

so in conclusion, my love for dreamnap and dnb started from curiosity that led to shock and bitterness that fueled my spite and the burning need to consume and create content for the only two (2) ships that i actually find interesting in this entire fandom.

it's a crime that there's so little content for these two ship, a crime i tell you!

so yes, im BOTH a dreamnap and a dnb shipper and my entire side blog is dedicated to block men: 500k words, slow burn, childhood friends to enemies to lovers as well as rivals to rivals to lovers, pining, angst with a happy ending, doomsday husbands and chaos husbands 😌❤️💚🤍

this concludes my very long and unawaited part two of my slow decent to madness™ post. i hope my experience (as well as my suffering) was at least entertaining to read! and i hope i managed to answer you question, anon (and maybe get you to consider shipping this with me)

bc spreading the c!technodreamnap agenda is what this entire blog's about. 🎉

[ardate]

Ardate hi hello hi just wanted to say rq that you're amazing you know, i hold your art and writings and all so gently but also just?? Holds you so gently respectfully because you are legitimately such an incredible person and im v glad to have had the chance to talk to you because you're brilliant and cool person and just, genuinely happy to know you, and you've been so supportive of me n it means a lot always have n inspired me so much and i hold gently but more importantly take care of self n cherish self, wishing best always ly n hope you have good day bc you deserve sm more and better than the best

Gosh what th heck... I've been sitting reading your message over and over all day and not even knowing what to say. I'm still not sure what I could possibly type honestly. damn, my friend

I'm not gonna lie I've been having a time (derogatory) these last... many weeks. hanging on by a thread, but the thread always leads back to my friends and their support and I can't even begin to process or express the immensity of all the love and thankfulness I feel about it.

Pal you're a wonder. It's been so good seeing you live your life and thrive, and yeah shit's still tough sometimes and demands lots of effort but by god are you not letting go and that's admirable. And through all this you still manage to create (so wonderfully - your art and characters and how you have a way with words),,

Idk pal I guess I just have feelings about how far you've come from where i've seen you start, and I just can't wait to see how much farther you'll go.

Thank u always for being so kind.

[archesa]

Your main(s) for blorbo bingo!

Ouuuh ! That's gonna take a while! *brews some tea* 🍵 Thanks a lot for this!! ^^ As you asked for my main (and I wanted to leave room for other asks in case) I only did my currently played characters (and Elianora, because she's The canon!verse Commander!)

Elianora, my beloved!

My feral little gremlin, 5' of whoop ass, and since she follows the canon!verse, in dire need of therapy! I don't play with her at the time (and to be honest I don't think I ever will again) but I cherish her so much! She's the first character I played the PS with, and she still owns a huge part of my heart! As for the Beloved (derogatory), it comes more from her novel counterpart, that I can't seem to get right and it frustrates me to no end! 😤

Anwen Evergreen (Trahearne lives AU, aka Storyverse) & Anwen Swynwr (Blighting Pod AU / Blighting Clone AU because I can't seem to decide which one sounds best 😅)

I'm cheating a little bit there! But since they're the same person, at least till Hearts and Minds, I thought I could do them on the same page ^^ (Anwen Evergreen in dark blue, Swynwr in light)

No surprise there, she's the one I get closer to Bingo with! I'm basically never not thinking of her, lately. I had been in a pretty bad drought as a writer, before I started writing my Trahearne Lives AU and I'm having so much fun with playing the story, picking things that would change, filling the blanks with headcanons, sharing this verse with my best friend @lilypixy and now, with EoD finished just as today, imagining what will come after (yup, that's a whole ass fanfic to come! yup this will end up like my skyrim fic, I will probably spend the next ten years on it. no I regret nothing!)!

I don't yet play with the Elem version of Anwen (I wanted to finish EoD and progress on the storyverse fanfic before I explored the Blighting Pod AU deeper) so she's a bit of a Cryptid, but if you happen to see her in game, don't hesitate to say hi! ^^ I happened to do the Octovine with @thorns-and-brambles the other day and I was soooo happy they recognised one of my characters (Æthnen to be precise) ! 😄 And of course, as a character who lives through the canon ending of HoT, she's in dire need of therapy too! (Oh, and, "A world without you" is now, with the season 4 version of Fear Not This Night, the official theme for the Blighting Pod AU, thanks to @lilypixy 🥰 I'm sorry I don't make the rules! 😄)

Galaëd of the Cycle of Dusk, my somft autumn twig! 🍂

I love him, and I can't wait to develop his story further when @lilypixy and I play through the story with him and Rorschach! Unapologetic Mary-Sue, because his resurrection of the Green Knight is over the top and I can't pretend to care! 😄

[angelsarts]

Hey I'm sorry to ask, but do you have updates for korean dramas? I can't find the link to your old one but also maybe some newer suggestions? (It's okay if you don't!)

It’s cool, I can do a new one! These are all in the order that I watched them in!

WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD

1. Coffee Prince ( A great choice for a first k-drama)

Choi Han-gyul is the grandson of chairwoman Bang of Dong-in Foods, a company that has a thriving coffee business. He has never had a job and does not care for responsibility. Han-gyul is hung up on his first love, Han Yoo-joo, who only sees him as a friend. Go Eun-chan is a 24-year-old tomboy who is often mistaken for a guy. Her father died when she was 16 years old and since then she has taken over as the breadwinner in her family. When Han-kyul and Eun-chan meet, he, not knowing that she is a girl, decides to hire her to pretend to be his gay lover so that he can escape the blind dates arranged by his grandmother. 

2. Cinderella with four knights

Eun Ha Won is a bright college student who dreams of becoming a teacher. Unfortunately, she loses her mother in a tragic accident, moves in with a cruel stepmother, and has no money for her education. One day, she helps an old man and as fate would have it, moves into a gorgeous mansion with three equally gorgeous men, who also happen to be billionaire cousins and heirs to the Kang family fortune. Between the rebel-minded loner Kang Ji Woon, playboy money machine Kang Hyun Min and the super-sweet singer Kang Seo Woo, Eun Ha Won finds herself in the middle of the hottest love quadrangle to ever befall a modern fairy tale princess. Rounding out the mansion’s chaebol lifestyle are Lee Yoon Sung, who serves as the cousins’ handsome bodyguard, and Park Hye Ji, a gorgeous girl who has her own interests in the Kang family and is not above manipulating one cousin to get closer to another.

3. Bride of the century

Taeyang Group is the largest conglomerate in South Korea. The Choi family who runs Taeyang has supposedly been under a curse for a hundred years that the first bride of the eldest son will always die. When the wealthy heiress Jang Yi-kyung disappears right before her wedding to chaebol heir Choi Kang-joo , Na Doo-rim , a lookalike impostor, is brought in to take her place. Unlike the cold and calculating Yi-kyung, Doo-rim is sweet and sunny, and Kang-joo genuinely falls in love with her. As the wedding plans progress, Kang-joo and Yi-kyung’s mothers both scheme and plot behind the scenes will the romance gets more complicated with the secret of not being the real Jang Yu-kyung.

4. Strong woman Do Bong Soon

Do Bong-soon was born with superhuman strength. Her strength is hereditary and passed along only to the women in her family. Her dream is to create a video game with herself as the main character. She desperately wants to become a delicate and elegant woman, which is the ideal type of her crush, In Guk-doo, a police officer. Thanks to her strength, she gets a job as bodyguard to rich heir Ahn Min-hyuk, the CEO of a gaming company, Ainsoft. In contrast to Guk-doo, Min-hyuk is an eccentric man who is playful, a little spoiled, has no regard for rules, and dislikes policemen. He has recently received anonymous threats and has even been stalked, leading him to hire Bong-soon as his bodyguard after seeing her beat up a bunch of men after they threatened an old man who was an elementary school bus driver. A series of kidnapping cases soon happen in Dobong-dong, the district Bong-soon lives in, and she is determined to catch the culprit, who targeted her best friend. With help and training from Min-hyuk, she manages to control her strength to use it for good causes. Min-hyuk and Bong-soon find their relationship growing into something more.

5. My secret romance

Jin-wook and Yoo-mi meet at a Gangwon-do resort and get caught up in a series of misunderstandings and accidents. Yoo-mi is there to attend her mother’s second wedding while Jin-wook is there working as a bellhop (a position given to him by his Chairman father to teach him responsibility.) Yoo-mi is charmed by Jin-wook’s sly and playful personality, and they unexpectedly spend the night together. However, Yoo-mi disappears in the morning, leaving Jin-wook feeling perplexed and insulted. Three years later, the two meet again when Yoo-mi becomes a nutritionist at the company cafeteria where Jin-wook works. It seems that once a playboy Jin-wook, has given up his carefree life and works at the company owned by his father. He has feelings for Yoo-mi and has kept her bra-pad as a memory of the night that they spent together. At first, he is strict toward her, though it is only because he is looking for reasons to be near her. He later confesses this to her and agrees to wait for her.

6. Scarlet heart ryeo ( One of my all time favourites) 

During a total solar eclipse, a 25-year-old 21st-century woman, Go Ha-jin, is transported back in time to the Goryeo Dynasty. She wakes up in the year of 941 in the body of Hae Soo, among the many royal princes of the ruling Wang family. She initially falls in love with the gentle and warm-hearted 8th Prince Wang Wook, and later Wang So, the fearsome 4th Prince who hides his face behind a mask and is given the derogatory label of “wolf dog.” As the story develops, Hae Soo finds herself unwittingly caught between the rivalry and politics among the princes over the fight for the throne, an she stay alive long enough for a happy ending?

7. Falling for innocence

Min Ho is a cold-blooded corporate raider who takes no prisoners. He is a scoundrel investment banker for Gold Investment, seemingly the world’s largest financial service firm. As a cynical, self-defensive, suspicious sociopath, he wears down people with his tenacity and takes advantage of them with his delusions of grandeur. However, Min Ho has his own story of how he became evil - it was because of his uncle’s betrayal. His father was overthrown by his uncle and it caused his family to hit bottom. As Min Ho vows to get revenge, he meets Soon Jung, the daughter of his father’s former secretary who betrayed him and whom now works for his uncle. One day, he has a heart attack and is taken to a hospital. He miraculously survives his heart attack after undergoing a heart transplant. His heart is actually from Dong Wook, a young detective and Soon Jung’s fiancé who suffered from brain damage from a mysterious car accident. After receiving a new life thanks to the new heart, he is no longer the cold and callous person that he has been and undergoes a profound change to his personality, talking differently and warming up people. But he still pursues his plan to get revenge on his uncle even though his emotions get in the way at times. He gradually learns the meaning of happiness when he finds Soon Jung, whom he wants to cherish and protect. His heart becomes tender and his eyes swell with tears when as he works with her. He falls in love with her without realising it.

8. The bride of Habaek / the water god

When the narcissistic water god Ha-baek visits earth in order to find three stones powerful enough to help him claim his throne, he seeks out the help of his servant and destined bride, psychiatrist So-ah, whose family is fated to serve the water god for generations. The problem is that she has no belief in the gods and initially mistakes him for suffering from delusions. Things get even stranger when the wind god Bi-ryeom, the water goddess Mu-ra, and the semi-god Hu-ye show up to complicate things

9. Weightlifting fairy Kim Bok Joo

Kim Bok-Joo is a promising collegiate female weightlifter. Her father runs a small chicken restaurant and her uncle wants to become an actor. She has a bright personality and strong sense of justice. Kim Bok-Joo and her friends on the female weightlifting team are not popular with the guys and they don’t have boyfriends. The weightlifting team and the rhythmic gymnastic team also don’t get along at all. Meanwhile, Jung Joon-Hyung is a collegiate swimmer plagued with numerous false start disqualifications. He is 21-years-old and has a free spirit. His uncle and aunt raised him along with his cousin Jung Jae-Yi. One day on campus, Kim Bok-Joo bumps into Jung Joon-Hyung while he is riding his bicycle. Her face looks familiar to Jung Joon-Hyung. After he leaves, Kim Bok-Joo picks up a handkerchief left behind by Jung Joon-Hyung. The handkerchief is very important to him and he begins looking for it. Later, Kim Bok-Joo cleans and irons the handkerchief. She goes to the school’s swimming pool and gives back his handkerchief, but he explodes with anger when he sees that she cleaned it. Kim Bok-Joo then falls into the swimming pool and Jung Joon-Hyung jumps into the pool to save her. At that moment, Kim Bok-Joo and Jung Joon-Hyung realize where they have seen each other before. When they were both children, Kim Bok-Joo saved Jung Joon-Hyung’s life by catching him before he fell to the ground.What happens now they know each other?

10. I’m not a robot

Kim Min-kyu lives an isolated life due to a severe allergy to other people. He develops extreme rashes that rapidly spread throughout his body once he makes any form of skin contact. Jo Ji-ah is a woman who is trying to make it in life by creating her own businesses. Kim Min-kyu who owns the KM Financial company which owns Santa Maria team headed by professor Hong Baek-kyun. Professor Hong’s team has created a humanoid robot called Aji 3 which looks like his ex-girlfriend Jo Ji-ah. CEO of KM Financial, Kang Ki-young, and his father try to sell the Santa Maria team to foreign investor, Martin, who secretly knows about the Aji 3 and wants to use it as a weapon. Hong Baek-kyun sends the robot to Kim Min-kyu to convince him not to sell the team. Before Aji 3 is delivered, the robot’s body is accidentally damaged. Hong Baek-kyun approaches Jo Ji-ah, asking her to pose as the robot, giving the team time to repair Aji 3. Jo Ji-ah agrees, and impersonates the robot under the supervision of the Santa Maria team and the robot’s computer brain, can she survive without being caught out?

11. Goblin / Guardian the lonely and great

Kim Shin is a goblin and protector of souls. He is the landlord of the grim reaper, who is in charge of taking deceased souls. Wanting to end his immortal life, Shin has been looking for his human bride, the only person who can end his life. Meanwhile, Ji Eun-tak is a high school student who remains optimistic despite the tragedies and difficulties she has experienced in her life. She summons the goblin by chance, and through various encounters, ends up falling in love with him. Sunny is a chicken restaurant owner, whose beauty is undeniable, but what has she got to do with the goblin and reaper? These four characters’ lives took a series of twists and turns when they intertwined.

12. Terius behind me (Another favourite!)

Go Ae-Rin suddenly loses her husband left to take care of her two children on her own. A mysterious man, Kim Bon, that lives next door ends up getting tangled into their lives. Kim Bon is a legendary NIS agent and 3 years ago, he was involved in a failed secret operation and the woman he loved died. He has since become disconnected with the world and lives alone quietly but that soon changes as he helps his neighbor Go Ae-Rin with her children and uncover a conspiracy, which her husband became involved with all the while trying to keep his secrets by the nosy neighbours in the building.

13. 100 days my prince 

Lee Yool is the Crown Prince of Joseon, a perfectionist who disregards the majority of those in the royal palace and appears to be cold and demanding, when in reality, he is lonely. He then passes the law that all women must marry before they reach the age of 28. Hong Shim is head of the first detective agency in Joseon, a strong, intelligent figure who takes on multiple jobs to support herself and her father. She is also the oldest unmarried woman in her village, and begins to look for a husband to avoid trouble from law officials. In an attempted assassination, Lee Yool develops temporary amnesia and wanders around aimlessly as a commoner with no name or identity, until he meets none other than Hong Shim, who takes him under her care. Hong Shim is then forced to marry Won Deuk to save her village from drought, due to beliefs in that era where natural disasters are a result of an unmarried woman’s misery. This drama depicts how the love story of Hong Shim, ‘Joseon’s oldest unmarried woman’ and Lee Yool, the amnesiac Crown Prince, develops over the span of 100 days.

14. My ID is Gangnam beauty

Kang Mi-rae decides to get plastic surgery after years of being bullied because of her looks. Her “rebirth” seems successful at first, but as her life at the university unfolds, her plan starts to backfire. The pressure of being a “pretty girl” begins to pressure her and, worse, those who can see through her surgery ridicule her and tag her as the “Gangnam plastic surgery monster.” The drama follows Mi-rae’s story of recovering self-esteem as she figures out what a two faced friend is and gets to know her coursemate, and former schoolmate in middle school, Do Kyung-seok

15. The secret life of my secretary 

Do Min-Ik works as a director of the mobile media 1 team at T&T, he’s smart and excellent at his job however he doesn’t like to attach himself to people or his secretary. His secretary is Jung Gal-Hee, a diligent and motivated person that does whatever it takes to keep her job and feed her family. Do Min-Ik often does childish things like calling Jung Gal-Hee continually, Jung Gal-Hee carries out Do Min-Ik’s orders without complaints but though she may look soft, she hides her tough side. The tough side soon comes out as she is fired, much to Do Min-Ik’s regret he soon discovers that he’s going to need her more than ever and discovers a new side to her in the process.

16. W - Two worlds ( Really recommended!! )

A love story of two people split apart in different worlds connected by a webtoon. The series focuses on the eponymous fictional webtoon entitled W, written and illustrated by its legendary author and illustrator Oh Seong-moo. W became famous in the entire South Korea, the storyline of the webtoon W starts with the younger years of its main character Kang Chul, a handsome and intelligent boy who is also skilled in shooting. He becomes famous as he won a shooting competition during the 2004 Athens Olympics but this fame gets ruined when his entire family was killed by an unknown Murderer, and then framed for it. Another villain Han Cheol-ho  handles the case to gain political popularity, pronouncing in court to impose death penalty upon Kang Chul. Nevertheless, Kang Chul was deemed innocent of the crime. Depressed over losing his family, he attempts to commit suicide over the Han River but he stops himself and chooses to move on with his life.Ten years later, Kang Chul becomes a multimillionaire, starting his “Project W” in his continuous efforts to catch the real culprit behind his family’s death; part of the project is his television broadcasting company dubbed “W,” after the initials of the interrogatives “who” and “why” (hence, the title of the webtoon). One night, he receives a suspicious phone call and gets severely injured by the same mysterious Murderer at the rooftop of his penthouse, only to be saved by a mysterious girl, none other than the authors daughter. How did she get there? Why is she there? How will they become entangled?

17. My contracted husband Mr Oh

Han Seung-Joo (Uee) is a single woman in her mid 30’s who works as a PD at a broadcasting station. She does well at her job, but is not nearly as good when it comes to housework. Han Seung-Joo has a hard time dealing with social prejudices about single women but still refuses to marry at least until an incident that occurs leading to a dramatic change in her life. She seeks to find a husband thinking it would help her situation but to get the position of a “married woman,” Han Seung-Joo marries Oh Jak-Doo as a contract husband who lives in the mountain that she just happened to own. Their marriage is not based on love, but their relationship develops romantically after several twists and turns.

18. Marriage contract ( For those who love to cry, seriously heartbreak ahead )

Kang Hye-soo is a single mother who struggles to raise her daughter while paying off her late husband’s debts. Han Ji-hoon is the son of a chaebol who seeks a contract marriage in order to save his mother, who needs a liver transplant. When Hye-soo is diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor, she agrees to marry Ji-hoon and donate part of her liver to his mother, in exchange for enough money to provide for her daughter until she reaches adulthood. Han Ji-Hoon is driving along when Hye-Soo is almost hit saving her 7 year old daughter Eun-Seong, He rushes her to the hospital as she faints however while she is being tested the Manager of the restaurant Han Ji-Hoon owns Ho-Joon tells him might be a scam and to make sure she is really hurt. Han Ji-Hoon has Hye-Soo’s phone and receives a call from a mysterious man which turns out to be the debt collector who comes to the hospital after hearing it being said in the background. He chases Hye-Soo when she is leaving, where he almost catches her but she in the end hides in Han Ji-Hoon’s car with Eun-Seong. Han Ji-Hoon’s mother has been rushed to the hospital where they find out that if she doesn’t get a liver transplant she will die but she is way down on the list so Han Ji-Hoon decides to marry a Hye-Soo she agrees so she can pay off her debt and also make sure Eun-Seong has money to grow up on as she gets the results back from when she fainted and she has a brain tumour. Eun-Seong in the beginning doesn’t like Han Ji-Hoon but she warms up to him as the pretend relationship blossoms into something real.

BONUS

19. 200 pounds beauty

Han-Na is a very large girl with a warm heart. She also possesses an unbelievable voice. Han-Na wants to become a pop-singer, but due to her extra-large appearance, can only work as a faceless singer. She provides the vocals for a popular singer named Amy, a beautiful young lady that can’t carry a note to save her life.Han-Na is also in love with Amiys music producer, Sang-Joon, but it’s a one-sided love. One day, Han-Na is invited to Sang-Joon’s birthday party and receives a red dress from him to wear to his party. Han-Na is excited, yet scared. The dress is revealing and quite extravagant. With her very large figure, she is not sure if she can wear such an outfit. Han-Na does eventually go to the birthday party in the red dress, but is mortified when petite Amy appears in the same red dress. During the course of the birthday party, Han-Na absorbs more emotional trauma and she simply disappears for one year. Han-Na then returns as the beautiful Jenny, a beautiful stunner who decides to make it on her own in the industry but encounters her once sided love. Will she be a success? Will her feelings get in the way and can she keep the guilt of the consequences of what her change brings?

20. Takane to Hana ( Japanese )

A tv show adapted from a manga ( that I particularly loved).  After her older sister refuses to go to an arranged marriage meeting with Takane Saibara, the heir to a vast business fortune, high schooler Hana Nonomura agrees to be her stand-in to save face for the family. But what happens when Hana meets Takane is an unexpected pairing of utter opposites! Although it seemed a little rushed at the end it was a nice tv show!

[septembersghost]

your fake ass king said it, he knows dw was a piece of shit who had nothing to offer the world. dw knew it himself, you were all too stupid to listen to him when he said it every few so episodes a season. he had no purpose and you all really thought you did something when you defended him and thought he should live. if even ja can finally admit that he was a worthless husk of a person, then it's time for all of you to face it too. he was NOTHING wout the better ppl around him and a burden to all

preface: 💖✨ friends, mutuals, and followers, I adore and treasure you and am very sorry for this post ✨💖

I almost didn’t publish this, but then I thought - what’s the preferable option here, delete it, and let you believe it injured me enough to hide from it, or feed your rampant derangement [derogatory] by answering it? (the irony of my kindhearted anon the other day saying they hoped no one had been mean to me makes this even more suspect, were you chilling in the corner, waiting and hoping for something to pounce with, or is this just random bitterness overflowing? I would like to analyze you).

may I please point out that this is not what he said, it's like one of them speaks and then it becomes a game of telephone, and what is eventually concluded is not what was originally stated. I’m not going to argue with you further because reading this, I am aware that your particular form of hatefulness is not going to be combated or changed by me countering it with canonical facts or emotionally eloquent rebuttal. I don’t know who you think you’re defending when the “better people around him” loved him immeasurably. I could tell you that this is comically reductive, unimaginative, black and white thinking utterly lacking in depth, nuance, or insight, but this is what you believe, and it is your choice to live in your own constructed ugly hellscape, so enjoy rolling around in the muck if you must.

what I will say is that this behavior is vile and immature, if not altogether disturbing, and as someone who does not participate in quite a bit of the culture of this fandom (this is a TINY blog, do you think you’re going to get attention by acting like a shrieking harpy? ma’am - or sir, or whatever your preferred title, I don’t know your life - I have NO reach, there are people who have thousands of followers and it would be odious of you to bother them, but why you chose insignificant little me is truly baffling. put on a mask, and take a walk around the block), nor have I ever felt the need to send anonymous hate mail, and I am QUITE certain you know better than this, but have seen the fact that I...I don’t know? love a character? genuinely grieve him? openly write thoughts and my own (totally subjective! it’s my mind and my blog!) perspective on the metaphors in the text because it interests me and I care enough to be invested in that? struggle with physical and mental health conditions? and decided I was a cool target at whom to direct your ire. the thing is, as hurt as I have been, you have absolutely no power to harm me, because you are like one pesky little gnat in the midst of a dense forest. I have bigger things to deal with, one swat and you’re out.

I’ve only been back here for a few months, and I’ve had interactions with old friends and new that I will cherish. I never had drama until you decided to come here with a shockingly bad take (I never had drama on my old blog that I inhabited happily for many years because I had anon turned off, but I have it open here to allow people to talk to me without anxiety, if they want to! you’re not going to get me to close it, so harassing me does not give you an edge there). I’m probably not going to be here much longer, I’m amazed every day that I’m still around with internet access and made it to March. that’s not the fandom, that’s my life and the fact that I’m on constantly borrowed time. so you can send me whatever, but it doesn’t make a difference. you can’t chase me off of Tumblr, you can’t take him away from me (it’s WAY too late for that. learn to time travel, and if after you’ve accomplished that incredible, groundbreaking feat, you’re still this pressed, then go back to that September night and tell me not to watch the pilot). at some point you can gloat and cackle in my absence, I really don’t care. if my loving a/these character(s) and a story this much bothers you, then watch me rub my delicate, damnable little hands all over everything.

I wish I could appeal to your humanity or sense of decency in telling you that describing someone (real or fictional) in the terms you’ve used here is unconscionably damaging and cruel, and no one who lives with trauma or depression or suicidality (or all of the above) deserves to be told they’re worthless or a burden, but your lack of empathy tells me that, too, would have no marked effect. You'll never be a first-class human being until you've learned to have some regard for human frailty.

I may live with pain and ideation and a thousand things you’ll never comprehend, but I still have compassion and a beating, caring heart. try it out sometime, you might start to find some actual joy in the world, instead of whatever hollow, miserable mess this is.

[bittercoldbrew]

PLEASE tell me about the alien plant girls im so gay for anthropomorphic fem plants

omg thank you SO MUCH for asking and i apologize in advance for the infodump because i have been thinking about these alien plant people for literal years now, i love them so much. I first started thinking about these guys a little after TFA, because of an oc i was working on for a lil star wars fic that i have mostly abandoned by now--so sorry to the like 3 people who were reading my sidon ithano fic but tlj/tros really killed whatever passion i had for the franchise for a good long time :/ but Mando is great so i've been thinking about them'st again...

anyway i am sticking this under a cut because a) im very attached to these characters and if someone steals my shit i will kermit and b) sweet jesus this got so long, i am so sorry

in the SW universe at least, these plant people (that i still for the life of me cannot settle on an actual name for) were the primary inhabitants of a dwarf planet way out in wild space; they had a pretty symbiotic relationship with a race of sentient insectoid people (basically human-sized bees) who could travel between the planet and their home on one of its three moons (affectionately called the Honey Moon). what the plants didn’t know was that the bees were also able to travel to different planets, and had been doing so for a couple centuries before everything went to shit--but we’ll get to that in a bit.

the plant people weren’t particularly interested in the galaxy around them--they had a decent understanding of astronomy and cosmology, but little cultural interest in journeying to the stars. since the planet was pretty small and distant from the galactic core, it was pretty rare that a visiting ship would even pass them by, and scanners didn’t register them as genuine life-forms separate from the natural flora, so even if someone happened to end up out there it’s not the sort of place anyone would really choose to land. on rare occasions, a pirate or smuggler would try to hide out on what they thought to be an unoccupied planet, and would return to the Outer Rim with tales of mobile, sentient trees and bizarre, organic cities found on some uncharted world; likewise, occasionally a plant person would turn up at the local bar with tales of crashed space-ships and strange aliens that seemed almost like people. neither would ever be taken seriously.

the plants aren’t a particularly verbal people. they understand spoken language (a somewhat-modified Basic, at least, which is what the bees speak hmm i wonder where they picked that up from) and many can talk, but most don’t really bother learning to do so. mostly they rely on an ESP-like combo of pheromones and body language, highly attuned to the point that it’s essentially a kind of telepathy. i think i mentioned in the tags on that post that my character Antheia is sorta kinda a jedi? for these people, force sensitivity tends to manifest as an extra-extra-sensory-perception that causes you to be hyperaware of every living thing in your environment, not just the other sentient ones.

this made her uhhh extremely off-putting as a youth, easily distractable and often disinterested in the other people in the small community she grew up in, where she was already pretty disliked to begin with. there’s quite a lot of diversity among the plant people (a wide variety of skin tones/textures and body types, though few if any secondary sex characteristics; four limbs are most common, though occasionally some have two or more sets of arms; different types of leaves/vines/blossoms/etc in lieu of hair), and though they have a barter-based economy there’s still a lot of classism that’s mostly based around lineage (and thus evinced by one’s appearance and the traits one manifests). to protect (or attempt to bolster) those lineages, prospective parents can apply for a spot in a nursery, where their offspring are propagated and tended--mostly just through infancy before going to live with parents, though sometimes longer, and the very high class have private nurseries that will do all the rearing so they don’t have to.

But, on very rare occasions, certain wild plants will spontaneously develop sentience, and even more rarely will survive on their own long enough to find their way to a community. Hundreds of years ago (or “before the bees could speak”, which is their version of “once upon a time”), these spontaneous growths were revered and cherished, and whoever was first to encounter one would see it as a great honor to be responsible for their care and upbringing. now, with a much more striated society, these “weeds” (derogatory) are considered inferior, feral, dangerous. fortunately for Antheia, the man who found her, tangled in marsh reeds under the light of the Honey Moon, didn’t buy into any of that bullshit. he was a really sweet dad, very attentive and doting on his increasingly-strange adopted daughter; they were very close. but the older she got, the more her unusual ability developed, and the more he realized he was well out of his depth to help her understand that part of herself. eventually, she’s sent away to a kind of temple/convent for other people like her, where she’s trained to hone and control her extra senses, rather than be overwhelmed by them.

many years later, the sudden appearance of several large starships in their atmosphere turns their society on its head. it turns out, the bee-people have been traveling to other planets, forging alliances, brokering deals; they claim they just want to facilitate inter-planetary trade. Antheia is among the first to mistrust these invading aliens and their fleet of well-armed droids who seem hell-bent on mining their planet (which is, apparently, rich with cortosis, which--thank you wookiepedia--is apparently capable of repelling lightsabers and blasterfire alike). She flees her convent, joins up with an underground network of resistance fighters, discovers that her hyperawareness makes her a truly formidable force on the battlefield, and helps lead her people in defending the sovereignty of their home. And then things take a turn for the worse...but we don’t need to get into that right now.

ANYWAY.

my other oc, Shoal, is from the same planet but not even remotely star-warsy; either from a different time period well before the droid incursion, or just like an AU of my own stuff, idk. but she’s great, i love her deeply even though i dont really know what i even want to do with her yet. i mostly just was thinking about what a normal, average person in this world would be like, but then i got too attached. she’s also one of the spontaneous “weeds”, a semi-aquatic plant girl that washed up on a sandbar that occasionally connects a small island with the mainland when the tide is out. she was sort of “found” by multiple people at the same time, since they were making their way across to go trade goods at the mainland market, so to avoid the confusion of who should be responsible for her, she’s just sort of raised by the village as a whole. they name her Shoal, since that’s where they found her (it started as a joke, but then no one could agree on anything else to call her so it just sort of...stuck).

she grows up without realizing that it’s a pretty unusual upbringing. as a teen, she gains the reputation for the island’s best fisher (it helps that she can breathe as well underwater as above, and she’s always been a good swimmer). one thing that’s pretty consistent among all the plant people are their teeth--they all have long, sharp incisors and canines because sexy and also as more of a defense mechanism than a dietary one. they don’t eat much, typically absorbing nutrients from the sun/water/air/soil (mud baths are such a beloved experience, like for the most part they are very dignified people but find them some good mud and they will wallow for days) but when they do it’s pretty meat-heavy. they don’t really enjoy the process of eating very much, especially because they don’t have much gut bacteria so they typically have to swallow some stones to break up their food and nobody wants to do all that. but, at least in the coastal towns near where Shoal grew up, fresh-caught fish is considered a delicacy, and they can trade for quite a lot in return.

as she gets older, though, she starts getting restless. she loves her village, but it’s all she’s ever really known. also, it is so hard to even consider dating when literally everyone your age is practically your sibling, i mean, yeesh. so one day she just packs her bags and says her goodbyes and waits for low tide, then sets off to find her own way in the great wide world. she stops wherever she can, sees everything she can, but eventually settles down working at a tavern in a medium-sized town that’s mostly acclaimed for being a crossroads between bigger and better places. she likes it there, likes getting to know lots of new people and hearing about someone else’s travels more than she actually liked traveling herself. after a few years, the tavern-keeper retires and decides to leave the place to her, and she finds she’s become a permanent fixture in this new community. that’s really all i have for her so far, and i have no idea whether i’ll ever actually do anything with this character lol, but still she is very precious to me so i hope i find a story she’d be a good match for sometime soon.

[littlequeenies]

BEBE BUELL: MUSING ON MUSES AND OTHER FANS

📷BEBE BUELLJUNE 17, 2020

Before embarking on a musical career of her own, Bebe Buell was a much in-demand model but was most often seen as the second fiddle to the famous rock musicians she was dating. She, however, saw herself as the Muse to these musicians, inspiring and sharing ideas with them. Inevitably, the term “groupie” would arise. As she says, “I’m not opposed to ‘groupies,’ per se. I just don’t like being called a name or being tagged like a sheep to slaughter’. Bebe elaborates on this idea for PKM.

I remember the first time I saw a photograph of Oscar Wilde. I was five and it was Easter. We were at the Virginia Beach home of my mother’s friends, Poppy and Tilly, who were hosting a Sunday get together. We were dressed in our pastels and frills and the candy and food was flowing. It was an adult affair and, being the only child there, I wandered off to explore while the grown-ups enjoyed their martinis and snacks. I found myself in a living room study area and on the table was a big book filled with photos of poets, painters, sculptors and scholars. I was immediately drawn to an image of Oscar draped on a chair like a velvet throw! It stuck with me and when I got older I looked him up in the school library. At the age of twelve I read The Picture Of Dorian Gray, but my main interest was in Oscar Wilde, the man and his story. I felt an instant connection, just as I have with all the great inspirations in my life. In 1978, when I was living between NYC, Maine and LA, before finishing the year in London, I never missed one episode of Masterpiece Theatre and their 13 episodes of Lillie about the life of Lillie Langtry, played brilliantly by Francesca Annis. To my delight, it explored in great depth the relationship/friendship between Oscar and Lillie, and I became obsessed with knowing everything and anything I could about their dynamic. I was intrigued, too, by the descriptions of Mrs. Langtry in the press at that time in England and the U.S. She was often called a “Professional Beauty” or “The Jersey Lily” because she was born on Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands off the coast of Normandy. She was also one of the most featured women in advertising; her face was everywhere. She was the image for Pears Soap and the most respected painters of the day stood in line just to have a sitting with her. In 1877, she met Edward, Prince of Wales, later King Edward VII, and became his first publicly acknowledged mistress.

One of my favorite quotes was attributed to her from her conversations with Wilde: “They saw me, those reckless seekers of beauty, and in a night I was famous.” This reminded me of the back room at Max’s Kansas City, the temple of cool when I arrived in New York during the era of everything! It was this platonic duo that introduced me to the role of the “Muse”—that is the Artist and the Muse. Throughout history and especially in the arts, there seems to always be a driving force that brings the flora. In the series Lillie, they emphasized how Oscar would repeat Lillie’s quips and observations in his writing. Their banter with one another fascinated me and I often envisioned myself as a “Patron of The Arts”, in a sense, as I’ve always promoted and sang the praises of those whose work I liked. I felt an affinity with that spirit—the gift of inspiring and sharing special ideas with an artist I admired. It wasn’t just music. I adored musing with photographers, writers, film directors and designers, too. Creative energies have always fed my soul. The first time I referenced the term “muse” was in a 1981 interview I did with the Emmy-winning writer Stephen Demorest for the edgy publication Oui. Its sister magazine in France was called Lui. Playboy had taken over ownership of Oui so it was a glossy, classy, European-style men’s delight, targeting a younger demographic. When Stephen approached me about the piece, he showed me a couple other interviews with “It Girls” that had been published.

One was with Patti D’Arbanville, the inspiration for some of Cat Stevens’ biggest hits. He even used her last name in one of the songs, “Lady D’Arbanville”. I knew Patti from the early 70s and, in fact, it was she who introduced me to Jimmy Page in 1973 on a night out dancing with her in NYC. It was a quick meeting, as I was eager to get home to my boyfriend at the time, Todd Rundgren. A year later, I would run into Mr. Page again and the rest is the stuff of rock tales.

I adored Patti so knowing that both she and Jerry Hall had done this particular interview sealed the deal. Like Patti Boyd, Jane Asher, Linda Eastman, Maureen Van Zandt, Sara Dylan, to name a few, the musical muse is the most often of the muses referenced. I recall how so many people wanted to know my viewpoints and opinions about the word “muse” and why I preferred it to the term “groupie”.

Even in Cameron Crowe’s Almost Famous, his beloved character Penny Lane’s first words on screen are, “We are not groupies. We inspire the music- we are bandaids!”. The film was Cameron’s love letter to women and how even at that time a stigma was attached to calling a woman a groupie; it was not necessarily a compliment. It was almost like a dismissive jab, on par with “she’s such a slut” or “whore”. Another scene in Almost Famous has all of the members of the fictitious band Stillwater squeezed onto a small plane that, they thought, was about to crash. Secrets were spilled and fingers were pointed. In one of the most moving moments, the William character defends Penny when she is described as “that groupie” by one of the band members. William nails it when he points out who and “what” she really is- a bright light and cherished fan. Someone who loved them all and for all the right reasons.

I feel that women have been unfairly branded and labeled without cause. I’ve often said that I’m not opposed to “groupies,” per se. I just don’t like being called a name or being tagged like a sheep to slaughter. Summing me up for the life I’ve lived, seen through someone else’s eyes or, worse, exaggerating the truth. I didn’t want those I’ve truly loved or the relationships I’ve had to be considered less sincere because of the visibility of my partner.

Certainly loving music or dating musicians is not derogatory. Isn’t it logical, then, that birds of a feather flock together? Like-minded tribes mate or unite because of chemistry? Rock boys and models have been drawn to each other since forever! In the Netflix series Hollywood, you find that sex and sexual favors were the core of the industry. Several of the movie stars everyone loved on screen had started out as rent boys or nude models to make ends meet. Who decides why someone can give a blow job to the “right” person and get a starring role in a movie and another blow job by an aspiring talent gets tossed into the trash can of regret.

Why, after having four children with Mick Jagger, a successful modeling career and now being Mrs. Rupert Murdoch, would anyone refer to Jerry Hall as a groupie? Or gold digger, another favorite term used to describe women who marry well. Or Marianne Faithfull, Anita Pallenberg or Winona Ryder, for heaven’s sake? These are the questions I’ve always had and one of the main reason why I have rejected the term groupie in the press. It’s not a personal attack on those who identify with the moniker. It’s my own rebellion against being labeled and frowned on for the relationships I’ve had.

I’ve taken this stand for a long time, even though it’s also caused some judgement and negativity towards me from other women. It’s almost as if they think I see myself as better than them. Or that I’m not being honest when I don’t just call myself a full-on groupie, and own it. My closest friends tell me it’s just jealousy but that doesn’t make it any less hurtful to have tales and lies circulated about you by people you barely know or those who don’t know me at all. Or to have relationships that lasted for years being reduced to a laundry list of “conquests.”

This is nothing new, of course. Catherine The Great‘s enemies within the Emperor’s Court turned on her and started rumors that she was a sex fiend who had intercourse with horses. That stuck with her throughout her life and even in the museums of Russia, the tale has echoed although it’s completely untrue. Cleopatra and Anne Boleyn were also targeted. Ruining reputations was the way people got their revenge in days of yore. Or in some cases, the reason why some lost their heads to the guillotine. Why is it that women who have power or beauty have been subjected to crazy accusations of sexual voracity or deviance? Eve takes the blame for the banishment from Eden and although she was supposedly created from Adam’s rib, she is seen as a temptress and Adam as her victim.

I believe every woman should identify by how she feels comfortable and for the work she does. I personally prefer to be known for what I do, my accomplishments, my career. However, dating a rock star or an actor should not merit a nasty quip or name calling fest. It becomes unbalanced when just because someone gets famous as, say, a model or an actress and then dates a rock star, that she should get called anything other than what she does to earn a living. I’m not sure “groupie” falls under the umbrella of job occupation. I’d file it under pastime, hobby, passion, or fetish.

The origins of the groupie started with nothing more than a desire to be close to the band—the guys who made the music. Or in some cases, the women. The term came into use in the mid-1960s as slang for women who liked to hang out with musicians. It’s fair to say that not all “groupies” are the same. There are many tiers and pecking orders when narrowing it down. Certainly not every girl who dreams of being with a rock star will waltz backstage and demand sex or give oral gratification. That’s the image I despise and wish would not tarnish the entire viewpoint to the outside world. Some of the girls on the scene want to take the word “groupie” back, to personify what it meant in the ‘60s and early ‘70s. It became something entirely different when the ‘80s rolled around. Bands born out of the LA scene liked a different kind of arm candy than the Rolling Stones or the Beatles. They preferred exotic dancers and porn stars, the girls du jour of the time. Just as music changes with each era, so do the kinds of women who pursue the bands. But, more importantly, what kind of women the bands seek out. One man’s status is another man’s yen.

And then there are those who look at being a groupie as a form of prostitution. I’ve never understood that one because most girls who live that lifestyle don’t charge money to be with their favorite rock god or even their crew. It’s a thrill to be with the band, but it seems the glamor that was once attached to that goal has changed. For me, it was a thrill to fight to say “I’m IN the band”… or even “I AM the band!”

When I was living with Todd, he produced one of the first all-female bands, Fanny. They were so great! June Millington could shred! I felt bewildered when I would hear snide remarks wondering if Todd was sleeping with one of them. I thought to myself that would have never been said or thought if they weren’t women.

The bottom line is preference. We all have a choice. And we all can be whatever we want. We can wear many hats. I see myself as a mother, wife, musician, singer, songwriter, writer, mentor, animal lover… many different things. What I do in my spare time is how I make my soul happy. Who I date is based on connections, fate and karma. We end up with who we’re meant to be with and the experiences we have are all meant to be. I’ve been with my husband Jim for twenty years now. Our 18th wedding anniversary is coming in August 2020. So, I’m writing this piece from the perspective of a wife, mother, working musician, writer and mentor. Not just a girl who had lots of suitors in her youth. Every single little thing is part of the journey.

The first time I saw a photo in Rolling Stone of what they called a “groupie”, I was 15 years old and in the 10th grade. It was 1969, and neither the image nor the word was at all something ugly to me. It just seemed exciting and cool. The girls were so outrageously dressed, and it reflected an almost innocent charm. I didn’t aspire to be a groupie but they seemed like they were the ones who made the guys in the band cool. They helped dress them, created make-up looks and spread the word all over town about how good they were. It didn’t seem to be so much about sex and backstage antics. Maybe I was too young to fully understand everything, especially from the pages of a magazine.

On my first trip to LA with Todd in 1973, when I finally did meet some real girls who liked to be called groupies, it still didn’t seem derogatory. I started to see how it was all just tossed together in some people’s minds. It’s a complex dance between an artist and his muse. None of it is something so vulgar or tainted as being only about sexual conquest. Maybe to some, it’s about that. But for me it was a series of fated encounters that have lasted throughout my life.

Some people see a groupie as a girl who will do anything, including have sex with a roadie, to get to the band. There is that element to the rock n’ roll lifestyle. But it’s not the entire package. Others see groupies as a vibe, the girls who are there when the band makes it, the girls that helped them make it, the on-the-road bestie, or the girls who get the bands drugs and food. Or even give them the clothes off their backs if the band is short a cool stage look. I often joke that that’s how wearing your lingerie out became a signature rock girl look- the band had taken her clothes to wear onstage!

I recall reading where Pamela Des Barres said she was still a virgin when she first discovered her teenage heart being drawn to rock boys. It felt sexual to her and it was also just youthful and sweet. Not a salacious sexual quest. More a desire to be near the music and the men who made it. That’s perhaps what one would define as a “classic groupie”. Or, in some circles, “fan” is the preferred analogy. I can relate to that myself as I knew when I was ten years old, I would hang out with Mick Jagger one day. I knew those were my people… my kind.

Pamela has made a career out of her life as a proud groupie. But certainly she has a right to claim the term because she helped invent it! She now calls it her “groupie heart” and that is something anyone who’s ever had a crush on someone or loved someone’s music so much that it altered your DNA can relate to. Hasn’t everyone felt that way? Every guy or gal who picks up a guitar or slings a mic stand had to have been dazzled by their inspiration or felt a need to pursue that for their own futures. So, my point is this- none of it is negative nor should one word hold so much power that when it’s flung at a woman, she’ll feel shamed or scorned.

When I started to get a bit of fame, the media seemed to want to call me anything but “groupie”. It was “Friend Of The Stars”, “Queen Of The Rock Chicks”, “Leggy Model”, “The Mother Of All Rock Chicks”, “It Girl”… so when the internet entered our lives, I began to see just how judgmental and downright mean people were about the women who hung out with the bands. It started to become something so dirty and taboo that I wanted no part of that term. It’s a thin line, a hard one to walk. Personally, I feel loving music and being attracted to musicians is as natural as doctors and nurses getting along. Humans are drawn to their soul tribe. Music, musicians and all art forms attract me. I’m the moth to that flame.

As an entertainer myself, it always hurt me when what I actually do for my job was ignored or not taken seriously because of the famous names I’ve been attached to. It’s so one-sided to only put that burden on women. It has been the norm for men to be patted on the back and admired for their taste in women and especially if they were able to appeal to many and have tons of sexual experiences. Even in the animal kingdom, the male peacock has the massive plume bloom to attract as many lovers as he can. A male lion can rule the pride with his sexual domination. A male celebrity only becomes more famous if he’s got a beautiful model or actress on his arm. Whereas a woman who’s dance card is busy or even full is often ridiculed or bashed. Branded with the scarlet letter of infamy.

It started to get under my skin when I saw myself defined only by who I’d dated or had close friendships with. It’s the luck of the draw. Some women who are in the public eye can date and marry a celeb several times and be embraced for it. They use it to further their already visible life. They are proud and exploit all their lovers as the playthings that they’ve become. Some have become famous by leaking a porno or being on a reality show. What was once a limited field has become wide open with lots of branches of thought and assumption. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for me to fight for my image… my persona… my legacy. But I did fight. I turned down almost every request I was presented to be interviewed for groupie documentaries or sensationalized TV shows. Sometimes turning down large sums of money. But I wanted to work hard and felt if I worked hard enough one day I’d be thought of for what I did on a stage, in front of the lens of a camera, as a mother and at times even a manager, more than who I shared my life with. Dare I use the “R” word? I wanted RESPECT.

There’s lots of contrast in the definition of groupie or muse but what about “partners”… the duos who took the world by storm. Sonny & Cher, Karen & Richard Carpenter, Debbie Harry & Chris Stein, Jack & Meg White, Jane Birkin & Serge Gainsbourg, Stevie Nicks & Lindsey Buckingham, Annie Lennox & Dave Stewart, Kim Gordon & Thurston Moore, etc… Or Chrissie Hynde and Courtney Love, who both married musicians. There’s a kaleidoscope of ways women are seen. It all depends on how you are first perceived. The general public seem to hold on to how they first heard of you even if you go on to do many different things in your life. Marianne Faithfull is a perfect example of someone who has been able to transcend her detractors and carry on like the warrior she is. But it baffles my mind how anyone could call her or Anita Pallenberg anything but tastemakers and trendsetters. They were the women I would stare at for hours as a young girl. They fascinated me almost more than the guys they hung out with. Yet I still hear them sometimes referred to as groupies.

Like any entertainer, I have an overwhelming need to be loved and to give love and positive energy to others. That’s why I crave being onstage. The connection with the audience is almost like having the best sex in the world. Or at minimum, a great, soulful hug that sends sparks through your body. I’ve been doing this since 1980, in public anyway. This is my life… not the talented, special men I dated in my youth. That’s part of my story and I will never regret a single heartbreak nor will I ever regret loving to the point of forgetting myself and my own pursuits. But I want to be remembered for more than my dates or suitors. I gave birth to a child who grew up to become a superstar so the role of nurturer has followed me throughout my life. I’ve accepted the fact that my fate is to be a vessel for talent and to enrich those who possess it. It’s become who I am- all the parts and pieces of my karma rolled into one big bang! My artistic side occupies just as much space as my musing side- equal parts love and creative energy.

Things come full circle especially when I get approached after one of my shows by young girls that call me “High Priestress” or tell me that they are my “groupies”. When I hear the words “Bebe, Im your biggest groupie!”, my heart swells but I also like to immediately remind them that I do what I do onstage because of them. Because of the exchange being a performer gives to my being. It’s like fuel… hors d’oeuvres for the soul.

One morning in 2009, I got a call from an old industry friend who had landed at Interscope Records. I was awoken with, “Bebe, you’ve been touted in a song produced by Pharrell Williams called ‘Bebe Buell’ by a young band from Boston called Chester French.” I remember thinking “wow, that’s a nice compliment” because the gist of the song was that someone like me or Pamela Anderson Lee were the creme de la creme of rock-boy desire. There’s a clothing line called ‘Muse & Lyrics‘ that has a blouse/top called “The Bebe” and the brand ‘I’m With The Band’ has named their leopard scarfs and headbands the “Bebe”. There’s even a cocktail called “The Bebe Buell”.

But I think one of the coolest things was having Cameron Crowe name the lead singer in Stillwater Jeff Bebe. He gave me the original T-shirt that was used in the movie, too, and boy do I treasure it! Cameron sprinkled all kinds of little clues and messages throughout Almost Famous. I was especially touched by the Jeff Bebe nod because he knew how much I wanted to be a singer in a band. I remember him once saying to me that I should just go for it. At that point, people only knew me as a model and Todd Rundgren’s girlfriend. I hadn’t even done Playboy yet, so I was still trying to figure out who I was and how to do it. I finally did but it took me six more years to get in the studio and front a band!

It’s moving to be honored and it’s also nice to be appreciated by the younger generation of pop culture lovers. The first time my name was in a song, I was excited by it. My old friend G.E. Smith had a line on his solo album that was about coming to visit “Bebe and Liz”… he came over to my best friend Liz Derringer’s house to play it for us. We were elated… it was cool. I would never be so bold as to sit here and make a list of my lovers or the songs they wrote for me because it seems so long ago. I’d rather leave that up to the fans of the music to decipher and besides not all songs written for others are acknowledged as such. I’ve had several songs given to me as gifts or written to me in letters.

Sometimes the authors don’t admit it because their feelings change and they don’t want to upset their new love interest. Didn’t Bob Dylan write “Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat”, “Just Like A Woman”, “Fourth Time Around” and “Like A Rolling Stone” about Edie Sedgwick, only to later deny it? I know the feeling because it’s happened to me. So, at this point in my life, I just cherish the letters (yes, I still have them so one day when we’re all gone they will maybe solve the puzzles) and I respect and allow artistic license to have its day. It’s an artist’s prerogative to change their minds so I hold no hurt feelings. Music buffs are pretty smart anyway and they usually know the truth, so it matters little unless it’s blatant. The one topic that irks me is that I claimed This Year’s Model was about me. Well, that’s impossible because I didn’t meet and start to date Elvis Costello until he was well into Armed Forces. I was living with him in London when he recorded it in the fall of 1978. He included a couple of lyrics from songs on Armed Forces in letters to me but I can say with certainty that “Party Girl” wasn’t one of them. I guess it was the timing of the release that made people speculate I was the subject, but I wasn’t and never claimed to be. He didn’t even know me when he wrote those records. Why this is disputed has always been a mystery to me. The songs Mr. Costello sent me in letters were from later albums, starting with Get Happy. I will always wonder too why he would say something so false and perpetuate a rumor twenty years later in the liner notes of a re-issue.  Here’s to hoping it is finally put to rest. And even with the shame and pain I felt at the time, I feel no regret or ill will toward anyone. To me the truth is pretty obvious. Remember the story I told earlier about Catherine The Great? Revenge is often used when hearts are hurt, and it is very common in the entertainment industry.

In summing up my thoughts on the topic, I feel it’s time in our culture to appreciate the roles women have played in art since the beginning of time. Dali had his Gala, Picasso would hide the initials of his mistresses in his paintings and secretly tell them so they would know it was for them, Clapton immortalized his love and lust for Patti Boyd with the ultimate ode in “Layla” and John Lennon may have written the most beautiful love song of all for Yoko in “Woman”. Or was it Paul McCartney with “The Long And Winding Road” about Jane Asher or “Maybe I’m Amazed” about the spectacular Linda Eastman McCartney?

We can’t leave out the spirited and unique George Sand whose given name was Aurore Dupin. She was born in Paris on July 1, 1804 and adopted the name “George” because women couldn’t write professionally with the freedom of men in those days. She became one of the most popular writers in Europe during her lifetime- one of the most notable writers of the European Romantic era. She would wear male attire in public saying it was easier and more affordable than women’s garb. She was a confidant to Franz Liszt and lover and muse to Chopin. She would lie beneath the piano while Chopin composed, saying it sent the music through her entire body instead of just her ears.

Music is primal and it gets into our bloodstream. It’s easy to see why young girls get crushes on their idols and some even grow up to marry their dream man. But the days of defining women by their sexual desires or “conquests” should be on the wane. I never looked at the men I dated or loved as conquests. Humans aren’t territories to be battled over or ceded to. The human connection is divine. Each and every person we cross paths with is part of our magical life story.  So, whatever you identify yourself as is fine. That is your privilege and judgement should not follow even if the choices aren’t the norm. As Oscar Wilde said, “Be yourself. Everyone else is taken.”

*Closing side note* As I was finishing this essay, I was doodling with a People magazine crossword puzzle and one of the clues was “GROUPIE”. Guess what the answer was… “FAN”. The timing was uncanny!