#that starts with a gen and ends with an impact
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never found those aus interesting either, but I'd say it's more attractive to work with an existing material over making own thing, because 1. the raw skeleton with established foundation, characters and relationships is alfeady there, and 2. there's a higher chance it will have an audience to share it with. you could find people for an original thingie, but it's Extra Work
these people wouldn't survive a day in the original fiction mines
#askbox#also if you're doing this then why not at least try to work With the canon material#you can still make interesting aus that play to your strengths with the foundation of the source material in mind#but most of the ones I'm seeing are like. What if there were Multiple Bills?#What if bill had a BABY???????#and also it's always working with flashy designs that look less like the characters and more like. uhm. characters from a Certain Anime Gam#that I don't want to get caught in the tags#that starts with a gen and ends with an impact
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Should I read homestuck
tl;dr: no
actual answer: yes, but with some extremely important caveats.
Firstly, because Adobe shitcanned Flash, you can now no longer experience Homestuck in the form it was intended upon release... unless you download the Unofficial Homestuck Collection. This act of unbelievable, nay, saintly generosity by Homestuck's most dedicated fans allows you to experience Homestuck as it was intended - as close as is humanly possible.
"As close as is humanly possible" is the key phrase here. One indelible part of the original Homestuck experience was UPDATE! Homestuck would sometimes go weeks or even months (and later, years) between updates. I wasn't on Tumblr back in the day, but at the peak of Homestuck, even if you knew nothing else about it, you'd know when an update dropped because Tumblr's net traffic would increase something like three to fourfold. People would go apeshit bananas about whatever new revelations the Huss would drop on us.
You also need to realise that Homestuck is a product of its time and while its takes on sexuality and gender identity was pretty progressive (for its time), Huss did use the r-slur a bunch.
While we're on the subject of the author, Andrew Hussie (of whom my current understanding is that they have not changed name but go by they/them nowadays) is, in the most diplomatic possible terms, a very unique person. They are, at times, a visionary storyteller with genuinely fascinating ideas. At other times, they come off as kinda spiteful towards their readers.
Without meaning to dip into spoilers, some story beats seem (in my opinion) almost intentionally calculated to upset, irritate or mock certain fans. It never rises to the sheer vicious contempt that Steven Moffat had towards Sherlock's fanbase, but it does leave a bad taste in my mouth whenever I go back.
Additionally, and this is where a sort of birds-eye-view spoiler is unavoidable, the story suffers from the Game of Thrones pitfall of repeatedly increasing its own complexity by adding new plot threads without resolving existing ones, eventually leading to fatigue on the part of both the reader and the author. The arcs of a lot of characters just straight up get abandoned, while a couple of characters take an unnecessarily large amount of screen time.
There's one character in particular that the author openly states within the narrative (the author exists within the world of the story. It's... a whole thing) that they favour, and whose behaviour the story is warped to accommodate. You'll know exactly who I'm talking about almost the moment they show up.
Another reason I say that it's not really possible to read Homestuck as it was originally intended is because a lot of the shit that happens in it fits into the zeitgeist of the internet at the time any individual update was written. There's a whole section in the late middle third that is inextricably and very specifically tied to how it was like to use Tumblr in 2012.
Additionally, a lot of things have soured with time. There was the whole Hiveswap debacle (it was first announced in 2012. We got the first act in 2017. We got the second act in 2020. We do not even know if the third act will ever come out.). There were the legal threats. There were the Epilogues and Homestuck 2, which were... how do I put this? Not universally liked. There's been nearly a decade of discourse since Homestuck ended, and a lot of things haven't grown better with age.
All of that being said.
You should read it.
I cannot express to you just how big an impact Homestuck has had on internet culture. Even people who claim to hate Homestuck unconsciously use slang that it invented. Its unique ideas on storytelling, character design and narrative chronology have, in both subtle and unsubtle ways, changed the way millennials and Gen Z tell stories.
A lot of people were inspired to tell stories because of Homestuck - one example I always give to Lancer players is that Kill Six Billion Demons started as a comic on the MSPA forums (before it was homestuck.com, it was MS Paint Adventures), so Homestuck is in an indirect but demonstrable way responsible for the existence of Lancer. The sunglasses that Gideon Nav from the Locked Tomb wears have been explicitly stated by Tamsyn Muir to be Dave Strider's. Toby Fox made music for Homestuck, and worked on large parts of Undertale while living in Andrew Hussie's basement.
We also know someone in the Bluey creative team is a Homestuck, because...
There are subtle but direct references in Bojack Horseman, Hazbin Hotel, Steven Universe, Adventure Time - and those are just the ones that it's easy to prove! In a more general sense, I think there's a lot of cartoon series, movies, games, etc. that would either be very different or wouldn't exist if Homestuck hadn't happened.
It's certainly influenced my work.
I think, being very cautious to manage your expectations, that you should read Homestuck. At the very least, a lot of things people say on Tumblr will start to make, if not sense, a different kind of nonsense.
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To say that we’re beyond devastated and at a loss for words barely scratches the surface of what we’re feeling in the wake of the U.S. election, and it’s been a struggle to figure out what to say and how to speak with impassioned clarity when we're muddling through fury, heartbreak, and fear. So what we did was go back to our 2018 "thank you" post to all of our creators, bidders, signal boosters, and supporters to reflect on the beginnings of MTH and where we can go from here.
When Marvel Trumps Hate was created, it was made with the hope that our name would outlast Trump. We would fight to eradicate the hate that he and his ilk have sown and continue to spread and not only survive but also thrive in spite of it. That Trump would be re-elected six years later by a bigger, more emphatic margin, with the Republicans taking the House and Senate, is a damning indication of the state of the U.S. today and a result that is of extreme concern for everyone in the U.S. and around the world.
In many ways, it’s dispiriting that not only have a lot of things not changed since MTH was founded, but they’ve also become actively worse and more dysfunctional. But the difference between 2018 and 2024 is that while our anger hasn’t gone away, our rage is now accompanied with a better, more clear-eyed understanding of what’s broken and what actions need to be taken. We know what needs fixing—and what works.
What works is community. We may not be able to put our trust in certain systems and people in power, but we can lean on and take care of one another. We have to and we will. How do we know this? Because you’ve all shown that since the beginning. We were reminded of it when reading our 2018 post and thinking about the past six years of MTH. Like we said in our closing message at the end of this year’s auction, it’s easy to feel defeated, but time and time again, we’ve learned that the most important thing is to show up even if you’re unsure of what impact you can have as just one person. Every year, that’s what you all do.
Hope doesn’t come from nowhere. We have to create it ourselves. And while there are dark days ahead of us, what we have to hold onto as we march forward, what lights our way, is the knowledge that you’re doing just that. This year’s auction is proof of it.
This year, 180 "Marvel"-ous creators came forward to offer 293 auctions. They offered 360 unique platonic and romantic relationships and character-centric options (if we include "all ships/gen"-inclusive relationships, this number is even higher) across 40 universes within the Marvel multiverse.
This spirit of inclusion goes beyond trying to encompass as much of the Marvel fandom as possible and can be seen in our auction and charity results too. Every one of 293 auctions was bid on, and every one of our 30 supported charities received donations. As ever, we’re in awe of your commitment to supporting all our creators and charities.
As for the crowning achievement, the culmination of our efforts, the grand total we raised this year is…
Wow. This is the most we’ve ever raised in a single MTH auction (other than our Spiders Georg 2021 auction), and you shattered the record for the highest amount donated to a charity AGAIN, with $9,420.62 going to Médecins Sans Frontières (Doctors Without Borders) too. This is all the more impressive considering it was accomplished by the second-to-smallest number of creators and auctions we had. It goes to show that no matter how small you are, you can pack a punch if you team up.
You can see the effort of our teamwork and the breakdown of the donations here (to enlarge the image, click here and hover to see the donation amount per charity).
We’ve also listed the amount raised per charity on our 2024 auction results page.
Creators, we couldn't have started this auction without you. Your commitment to the event, whether you return every year, made a surprise welcome return after a break, or are new and took what we know can be a scary jump into the event, moves us. It’s hard putting yourself out there, and we applaud you for it.
Bidders, your willingness to duke it out helps us raise as much money as we do. We’ve seen some wild things though what always astonishes us the most is that most donations are small ones including a lot of those crazily high winning bids—so many of them were the result of people pooling their five dollars together! This has been consistently the case since MTH began and is a testament to the ripple effect you can have if you’re part of something bigger than yourself.
We also owe our success to our amazing signal boosters. There can’t be an auction without any participants so to every fandom community Tumblr and Discord mod and every individual who shared our posts and encouraged their fandom friends to sign up and/or bid, thank you so much. Together, we reached hundreds of fantastic creators and bidders from all corners of the Marvel fandom, many of whom we didn't know and some who were hearing about us for the first time (and some who made the leap after sitting on the fence for years which is awesome).
Thank you all. We’re so touched by the massive number of people who donated above and beyond their pledged amount, creators who took on multiple auctions and offered multiple winner slots, and bidders who accepted their second-place wins with such eagerness. We also had people make donations in the spirit of MTH even though they didn’t win an auction, which was beyond generous. This year, we saw a record number of people doing that (even someone who was no longer part of the Marvel fandom but wanted to support what we were doing), especially in the wake of the U.S. election, and it made us very emotional to see such compassion.
From the bottom of our hearts, we thank you for helping us turn our seventh Marvel Trumps Hate auction into such a fantastic experience. We cherish every single message of love and support that we received and continue to receive on our Discord server and through DMs, Tumblr messages, emails, tweets, etc., and they as well as your generosity have buoyed us since September and the past two days in particular.
If you'd like to stay updated on all of the 2024 Marvel Trumps Hate fills, follow us and/or check out the "mth 2024" tag on our Tumblr. You’ll also be able to find works posted on AO3 in our Marvel Trumps Hate 2024 collection and links to fills in our Discord server, which you can join to brainstorm prompts, chat about fills, and find out about other fandom events.
And with that, MTH 2024 has officially come to a close. Thank you once again to everyone who volunteered their services, time, money, and platforms to spread the word. We hope that these results have bolstered your belief that you can make a difference as well as your determination to stand back up after being knocked down and defiantly say, “I can do this all day.”
Because we have to. For those of us who have suffered, for those of us who are in the most danger now, for those of us who have died at the hands of the evil and cruel in power and are no longer with us. For all of us who are still here. Because we all deserve to be here, safe, cared for, and alive.
So let’s get back up. Let’s get to work.
Yours in solidarity, Your 2024 MTH mods
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Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3
Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol
Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)
Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!
ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷
The Mastermind:
At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.
You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.
You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.
Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.
You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.
Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.
This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.
But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.
Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.
"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.
He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.
"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.
Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.
Another gen popped.
"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.
Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."
He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...
What the Hell did you get into.
The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):
The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.
Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?
You walked into the main building and tried to listen.
Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.
"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.
"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."
"Okay, but wha-"
"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."
"Sorry."
"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.
"If I don't?"
"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.
Great.
After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.
"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"
"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"
"Making out with you."
"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.
You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.
So, you just let it happen.
The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.
Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.
You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.
Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?
Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.
WHAT. THE. HELL????
#dead by daylight#dbd x gn reader#dbd x reader#freddy krueger#freddy kruger x reader#albert wesker#albert wesker x reader#x gn reader#gn reader
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hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3
how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi
(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)
Food Impact! (Oneshot)
narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.
Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3
Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (。・ω・。)ノ id love to interact more too!
Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!
The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.
Stacked yamazon boxes, check.
Littered cans and bottles, check.
Neglected blankets and pillows, check.
An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.
Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.
His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?
“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.
Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?
“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”
“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”
“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”
Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.
Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”
In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.
He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”
Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.
Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”
Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.
Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”
And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.
“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”
What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.
He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.
Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.
His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”
Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.
Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”
“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”
“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.
A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.
‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’
But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!
He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.
You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”
“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.
The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.
“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”
Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.
He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.
“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”
He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”
Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”
“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.
Invigorating Kitty Meal.
Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.
He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!
“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.
“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.
Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.
He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”
After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.
He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)
Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.
You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!
You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”
“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”
“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.
“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.
After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.
You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.
“Let's cook again someday.” he said.
You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”
“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”
You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”
He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”
He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.
“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.
Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”
He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.
You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.
Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”
Wait. What?
“What arrives… tomorrow?”
“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.
You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!
Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”
“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”
“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.
You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”
He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”
And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.
Bonus:
Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?
You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.
The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.
#kaiju no. 8#axia writes for fun#kn8 x reader#kn8 writing#gen narumi#kaiju number 8#narumi gen x reader#narumi fluff#narumi x reader#narumi gen#narumi gen fluff
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anyway, im not saying anything revolutionary here and im sure someone else has said it better, but what this election has done is reaffirmed that there needs to be a cultural shift away from individualism. “i want my business to do better,” “i want better prices,” etc impacted how people voted majorly. voting is your right, but you’re voting not just for your personal self. you’re voting for your community, so when you vote only based on what you assume (which is funnily enough wrong) is gonna better your life, said community gets fucked. also, more proof that social media is not the end all be all, and there’s a lot more of not-liberal gen z that exists aside from ones woke online. gen z men specifically need to start learning. there is a reason for uptick in consumption of conservative creators.
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I do not understand your love for image genAI bc apart from the rampant theft from artists most of its uses are just. Not good like. Some people are capable of making interesting things with it but 90% of what it's being used for is like. Terrible anyways.
i don't really have any particular love for image gen AI. for starters, the styles its primarily designed to emulate are completely outside of my taste bracket and i find those types of work exactly as hollow and soulless when produced by human hands. there's a reason you don't see me going out there using gen ai for a bunch of stuff. i've never even touched midjourney. i like to draw! i dont want something to draw For me!
but here's the thing. if '90 percent of stuff made this way is crap' was a valid reason for something not existing we would have to get rid of every single art form on the planet. it's the same argument people make about booktok books - Stuff Used To Be Better But Now We Have This Sludge Factory Turning Out Fine-Tuned Consumer Slop With Reckless Abandon And It's a Threat To The Fabric Of Society
buddy ! that sludge factory is the Human Race! what you're witnessing is the lowering of barriers! the more people are capable of producing a specific type of creative work, the overall less quality there will be, because most people are not particularly skilled in creative work, or lack the taste you need to make something compelling when unskilled. that's a good thing. i would rather 99,999 people get the chance to make something i hate if it means 1 person gets the chance to make something i love that they wouldn't have otherwise been able to.
i think that the question of art theft as is done in the training of AI image generation models is a sticky one. i hate the fact that tech companies have made boatloads of money that wouldn't have been possible without a truly countless number of man hours by artists that will never see a penny of that wealth in their lifetime. but i also think the more time i spend sitting down and thinking about it and the more conversations i read on the subject, i can't view the output of these generative models as theft. at least, not without conceding a ton of ground to ideas about intellectual property that i think have been overall much more harmful to the health of the art world than AI image generation will be in the longterm.
gen AI models do not store images. they are not churning out recombination of images that have been fed into them. they were trained to analyze visual patterns in these images, associate those patterns with specific concepts, and produce new images following these patterns when prompted with the specific concept. it is fundamentally not dissimilar to how human artists learn and for me i can't in good faith view it as morally wrong on its own merits. i think where plagiarism/theft/fraud-adjacent concerns come in is 1. attempts to disguise how a piece was created and 2. attempting to create stuff that pass muster as a specific other artist's work.
but neither of these are problems unique to AI. people have been arguing about lying about how you make your art and copying other peoples styles for ages. what AI does is it VASTLY increase the scale this can happen at, because it's removing an insane skill barrier from the whole process. and yeah ultimately at the end of the day that's annoying. there are absolutely going to be repercussions on the art world the same way the digital camera impacted portraiture and the printing press impacted scribing. but ai image generation... isn't going to go away. it's just not. so i feel like developing standards for how we engage with this insane, objectively cutting edge and impressive tech, is going to make the art world much safer than starting what boils down to a fucking culture war about it.
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As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.
Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.
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The Queen of Attolia (plus some WoT comparisons)
Haha, it's been a few months but I got my chance to read the next book in the Queen's Thief series and it was so good! I am going to have two sections in this review -- my overall thoughts and then some specific thoughts that are mostly for @markantonys due to the series being her recommendation and I have a lot of thoughts about the comparisons between the Queen of Attolia x Eugenides and Mat Cauthon x Fortuona, because you can really do a point by point comparison, though I don't think it was intentional -- I think that Megan Whalen Turner and Robert Jordan were both going for the same idea but Turner was, imo, wildly more successful than Jordan at it.
But first, thoughts that don't particularly relate to The Wheel of Time:
We open with a tense cat and mouse chase between The Thief and the Queen's guardmen and that is really the heart of this book when it comes down to it -- a cat and mouse game between two extremely complicated people, and how they have to navigate in the world that they share.
Turner is really good at writing these fun action scenes where you're very much in the PoV of the character.
The (apparent) foundation that is laid here (that later gets overturned because Gen got to me again and he was once again acting on personal information that he kept from me for the majority of the book, lol, love him for it) - is very much beginning as enemies who have respect for each other's skills. At this point in the book, I knew that they would end up married due to spoilers and I know that it's considered a good romance, so I was really looking forward to seeing the journey, especially since I did get spoiled about the huge upcoming traumatic event.
But we start from this strong narrative place where they are aware of each other and have respect for each other but they belong to two separate counties that have some political tensions and they are both important parts of those countries and can't set that aside.
Because of how bold Gen is, Attolia has been backed into a corner by his actions and we actually see this affirmed by Gen's cousin (the Queen of Eddis) and her thoughts on the matter -- she is aware that Gen going into Attolia's country to spy on her is a dangerous thing for him to do.
And then the cutting off of his hand. This is brutal, and it feels brutal, and then we also get these hints of Attolia's reaction afterwards (that we get into more later) but especially her reaction when he begs her not to hurt him anymore and you can really see her feel the impact of what she did. She doesn't allow herself to show her remorse but even this early on, we're getting hints of it as readers.
Then when Gen goes home, we actually see that the Queen of Eddis also maintains a mask in public, just like Attolia does, so we see another hint here that Gen understands that kind of masking. Eddis looks just as cold and impenetrable to Attolia's guards who return Gen to her, as Attolia looks to everyone else.
I really appreciated how long the recovery time was after the loss of Gen's hand and how much time we spent with him to feel him get used to the changes (and how economically Turner is able to pass that time). We get these tiny looks at Attolia as well, and her difficultly sleeping at night, which we expand on later.
Then we get the return of the Magus from Sounis! It was really nice to see him again, dropping in to visit Gen, but he's also here to give us that continuation of the division between personal and political -- as a person who genuinely likes Gen, the Magus was upset about what Attolia did to him, but as the advisor to the king of Sounis, he knew that they would be able to use Eddis's reaction to Attolia's act on the political stage.
But what a way to learn that the two countries are at war!
It takes some time for Gen to really believe that Eddis went to war over him, and we see him processing that over the course of the book as well, and they talk about it more. I do think that Gen does not always realize how deeply other people care about him.
Turner really is so good at giving us these pieces of information that reframe the earlier story -- now we know that during all those snippets of Attolia that we had earlier, she was also dealing with realizing that her actions with Gen led to the war that she's currently embroiled in.
The progression of the war was really well done (again, Turner is very economical with her narrative here), with what details she chooses to focus in on, and we see that Gen, even though he has gained more of an ability to have that cold and impassive mask like Attolia has, still does things like make sure that no one is on the ships that he's destroying, because he doesn't like getting people killed.
Turner also does a really good job showing how destabilizing the war is to all three countries involved, and how the war is hurting everything.
We take a little mythology story break here in the narrative, which was a fun story about love and choice, both of which are very relevant. This story definitely does end up applying pretty heavily to Gen and Attolia in the themes, and I like the style that Turner tells these stories.
I love how perceptive Gen is once he's been apprised of the situation and we get to see the thought process that leads to him blaming the emperor's ambassador more for the loss of his hand than he does Attolia herself, because he sees that ambassador understood that seeing Gen maimed and returned to Eddis would be more like to spark a war than just killing him would, and a war is exactly what he needs in order to try to justify getting his troops onto Attolia's land. All the politics here are pretty complex but I feel like the book does a good job explaining the reasoning.
And this is also the point where it's really confirmed that Attolia knows that the ambassador is underestimating her, and that she also understands a lot of the things that he thinks that he's pulling over on her. But because of the fragile position that she's in, she needs to entertain the ambassador's advice and his attempts to sidle in on her country.
Quote about Gen: "It was like him that if he had to have a thing, to have the fanciest thing of its kind."
I really like all this about the cost of war; the price of war; and why this outside party has been trying to urge war on the three countries.
We also get Eddis admitting to Gen that she thinks that she could have possibly controlled herself and not started a war if he had only been killed, rather than treated in a way that she finds so insulting, and that it made her so angry that she made a choice that had now brought a lot of damage to their own country that she wishes could be avoided. And Gen can see, basically, that the ambassador of Medes is the one who put both Eddis and Attolia in this trap, and he was used as the tool to start this war.
We really move into Attolia's PoV and we get the story of the broken amphora (she thought about it when she saw Gen after she'd had his hand cut off) -- it was, essentially, the moment that marked when her life changed and she couldn't be a young girl anymore.
This really is a heartbreaking story -- how after her brothers died and she was the heir, her father essentially sold her off to be married, and her fiance was actively plotting against her father and how to suck her country dry for his own benefit after they were married. And how she kept herself quiet and small and just listened, but then poisoned him at their wedding feast, also having her captain of the guard kill the next man who tried to force her to marry him. We also see here that she only trusts loyalty that she can buy in gold (because every other kind of loyalty failed her).
Then we finally get the big reunion! This scene is so tense, with both Attolia and Gen wearing these cold masks (we later realize that Gen has pretty much directly modeled his mask on Attolia's) and we get this private negotiation that is only for the two of them. And this moment when it is literally just them, together on a boat, with no one else to interrupt them... just exquisitely done.
It's been implied before, but this is where we get our confirmation that Attolia has been just as haunted by Gen this entire book as he's been haunted by her. They've been separated for most of the book but constantly haunted by each other. I gotta share the quote:
"He was too young to have bones that ached. No matter what he thought of himself, he was hardly more than a boy. A boy without one hand. She reached up to push the wet hair out of her face, wondering when she had sunk so low that she had begun torturing boys. It was a question she had asked herself night after night, lying awake in her bed or sitting in a chair by the window watching the stars slowly move across the sky."
We've been seeing her do those things the entire book, but this is the first moment when we're told what she was thinking about in those moments.
We also get our Big Revelation here that Gen has had feelings for Attolia since before the events of The Thief! How does he hide these things from us so well! Gen! We learn here (and we get even more detail later) that he's been feeling drawn to her for literal years. That part of the reason that he made those trips that she thought were mockery was because he wanted to be close to her and get a look at her and see if she really was the monster that their spies reported that she was, or if she was just a woman who was being forced to make difficult, maybe impossible choices.
And then we get our story reversal where Attolia gets 'rescued' by the ambassador and his people, and we get to see how she behaves in these circumstances where she doesn't believe that she can trust Gen (sure, he said he loves her, but she cut his hand off! And he's a known liar! how can she trust him?) vs this dude that she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she absolutely cannot trust.
The moment when she tells her handmaidens not to put on her golden bee earrings, I knew exactly what she'd done, especially when we got Gen's reaction. The writing doesn't have to tell us in the moment what's occurring (that she put on the earrings that he left for her one time and that she said she would only wear if she'd decided to marry him) for us to know, and I love that. This coded sign that only he will understand.
It's the most unique and fascinating marriage proposal I've ever read. Well done. Haha, and I did guess that the gray-haired man that he fought so well with was his father. <3
Love the moment when we see him process that marrying the Queen of Attolia is going to mean... that he'll be the King of Attolia. He just wanted to marry her because he liked her! <3 <3
And everything after that was just so delightful. Working together for the double-cross and then the process of Eddis and Attolia working out the treaty and Eddis trying to convince Gen that they can have the treaty without the marriage, and his rejection of that, and then essentially testing Attolia with that offer as well.
I also really like one of the moments when Attolia realizes that she can trust Gen, which is when Eddis tells her that of course Gen also lies to her. Constantly. And I feel like that reframed a lot of her interactions with Gen for Attolia. Realizing that Gen wasn't being maliciously deceitful towards her; he's just Like That With Everyone. Plus, I can't forget the moment when, after the battle is won, Attolia and Eddis return to where Gen is being held and Attolia believes for a moment that he's been poisoned as a parting shot by the Medes ambassador and we can literally watch as her heart completely shatters and she is completely undone and devastated in her head and even shaken where people can see her. It's beautifully written.
And we get the moment with the gods (who are very real in this series but very carefully choose how they interfere) and it's just as well done as it was in the first book. The windows in the palace shattering as the goddess responds to Gen's sacrifice! And basically laying out to him that his suffering was required to reach this ending and would he trade it back if he could -- if it meant that Attolia would have been forced to make that deal with the Medes ambassador. And Gen would rather have Attolia in his life and wanting to marry him than have his hand back.
Just that whole final section that leads up to the ending of the book, with Attolia really being able to believe Gen when he says that he loves her... it's so good. How the narrative (and Eddis and Gen) are able to tease out Attolia's feelings for Gen, and how we end on that final quiet moment between the two of them. Really powerful ending.
It's a really good book and it's a really good romance. Gen and Attolia are both fantastic characters and even with all the twists and turns and revelations, their relationship felt incredibly captivating and believable. I really believe that Gen wants to break through Attolia's walls and, just as important, I feel like there's a person on the other side of those walls who is worth being loyal to and loving. You understand why Gen wants to be Attolia's husband, even after she ordered his hand cut off, which is very impressive storytelling.
Hopefully I'll get the chance to read the The King of Attolia soonish, and not in, like, four months.
*
And now onto the Wheel of Time/Mat & Tuon comparison section of the review for @markantonys 💖
It really does feel like a point-by-point improvement on Mat & Tuon, though I suspected unintentionally (it looks like this book came out 3 years before CoT).
Starting with the characters: wow, Attolia really is so much the person that I would have wanted Tuon to be. And she feels like the person that Jordan wanted readers to believe that Tuon was. Every place where I was going through my WoT reread and going "footage not found!" about something the narrative tried to claim about Tuon is something where the footage is very much found for Attolia. While Tuon's potentially heartbreaking backstory really is just backstory and ends up have zero impact on her active storyline, Attolia's tragic backstory is the entire spine of what her character is going through and what Gen can help her with.
We get to see and really experience Attolia's context, which is not something that we got with Tuon. Jordan makes an attempt, I guess, with Karade's sob story about Tuon and the doll, but he made the bizarre choice to frame this story in Karade's PoV (Tuon's slave), not from Tuon's PoV. For whatever reason, Jordan always insisted on making Tuon the most insufferably smug person in the world in her own PoVs.
With Attolia, we get those breaks in her mask that I kept desperately wanting us to get with Tuon but we never did. Again, this is mostly only for the reader, not even for Gen -- the reader gets to see behind Attolia's mask. And so Attolia is captivating and fascinating and I understand why she felt like she had to do these horrible things.
With Attolia, we actually get her being removed from her power base and feeling helpless, which Jordan never had the guts to do with Tuon (when Mat kidnaps Tuon, he lets her take her slave along with her, and then some of his allies decide to support Tuon over him despite having zero narrative or character-based reason to do so), which means that when Attolia regains her power, it has a much bigger impact on the narrative, while it felt like Tuon never really lost hers. Attolia and Gen both manage to be scrappy underdogs, in their own way, and that's something that Tuon never was.
Both Attolia and Tuon commit horrific acts, but while we see Attolia's remorse and how it torments her, Tuon always seems to shrug off the horrible shit that she does. It doesn't ever affect her emotionally and she never seems to think past it after it's done. She is a character without remorse or reflection (I think she vaguely thinks that it's a shame one time when she's pondering how she will break Mat's spirit but that's about it). And Attolia has those two qualities in spades. Attolia feels like a real woman to me in a way that Tuon never did. We see the brave face that she puts on, we see her regret and remorse, we see her loneliness, we see her jealousy over the Queen of Eddis, who is able to trust the members of her court in a way that Attolia has never felt she could trust her own. Tuon just feels really shallow in comparison to Attolia.
Even in the first cat and mouse scene with Attolia and Gen in this book, you can see the push and pull and the narrative equality of the characters. Gen has been in and out of four different strongholds of hers, and she feels that he's pretty much taunting her with his abilities. There's a mutual respect for the other person which was one of the big things that was missing for me with Mat and Tuon. In her final PoV in KoD, we learn that she has not had an ounce of respect for him during this entire journey -- it's not until she sees how the Band respects him that she considers whether or not there may be more to him than just being a pretty and dumb sextoy. And the big problem with that is that was the period when the 'romance' was being developed. During the time when she didn't have any respect for him as a person. And that makes it very difficult to find their relationship compelling, even apart from the fact that I found Mat himself profoundly unlikable in CoT & KoD.
Now, Mat being a terrible person (in CoT & KoD) and Tuon being a terrible person (always and forever) are not things that would stop me from shipping them in general. I am capable of finding Awful4Awful pairings compelling (like Louis and Lestat from Interview with the Vampire). They don't have to be good people, but there has to be something in the relationship that grabs onto me at any level, and that's where Mat and Tuon failed.
We can see in Attolia's thoughts that she envies the relationship that Gen has with the Queen of Eddis -- she envies that loyalty and wishes she could have something like that of her own. That sort of envy was also missing from CoT & KoD (I am going to mention, briefly, that some of these elements were present in the Mat & Tuon relationship in AMoL but at that point, it was just too late for me to give a shit about their relationship, because CoT & KoD thoroughly killed any interest that I had in them). Whether because of his own personal kinks or because of the plans that Jordan had for the Outriggers, Jordan made Tuon too much of an island; too much of an wall. The way he wrote her made me feel like nothing Mat could do would ever really matter to her in any way; that she was content to use him up and then throw him out and that's just not my thing. It may have been Jordan's kink but it is not mine.
So I definitely understand @markantonys's point about this feeling like a well-written version of Mat and Tuon! It really does feel like this is the sort of relationship that Jordan wanted to write with Mat and Tuon but didn't have the skill at romance writing to pull off. Something like Mat and Tuon is Hard Mode Romance and Jordan wasn't even always good at Easy Mode Romance.
Two of the key elements that really makes Attolia and Gen work for me is just getting to sit and exist in Attolia's emotional reactions to the wrong that she has done to Gen; and Gen acknowledging and processing the harm that she'd done. And both of those things were desperately needed with Mat and Tuon, both as characters and as a romance.
A major major part of why Mat and Tuon failed for me is because I didn't feel like Mat was actually reacting to her realistically for the vast majority of their page time together; she threatens to invade a city and he laughs it off, she assaults his companions that he freed from slavery and he thinks it's hot?!?, she talks about how she likes to torture women and he ignores it.
If Tuon had cut off Mat's hand, the way that Attolia cut off Gen's, it feels like Jordan would have just had Mat shrug it off and then buy her a puppy as a reward or something as his response. Here, we get Gen begging Attolia "please don't hurt me again" after she cuts off his hand and then we have months of separation and recovery and processing before the narrative takes him anywhere near her again. And Attolia is forced to reckon with what she did, first by being haunted by the memories of him crying from the pain and loss, and then she has to face it directly by seeing his stump, seeing the pain that he's still in (because of her). She has to admit (not just to herself but to him) the damage that she did before they can move forward together. This is something that Tuon never shows herself capable of on any level. Tuon is never allowed to grow as a person the way that Attolia is, or to be vulnerable with the audience or with Mat.
I definitely still really felt the Mat-Gen comparison in this book too. Lots of places, but there's a great moment in the meadow with him, Eddis, and the Magus, where Eddis explains that Gen has deliberately made people believe that he can't fight but he also still gets miffed sometimes if people fall for his carefully constructed facade.
And the moment when Gen tells Eddis that he plans to steal the Queen of Attolia. It really feels, again, like this is the sort of vibe that Jordan wanted us to believe existed between Mat and Tuon: "She may be a fiend from hell to make me feel this way but even if I've got to hate myself for the rest of my life, this is what I want. I dream about her at night." This intense draw and this pull that he feels towards her. Jordan appears to want us to believe that Mat feels this kind of draw towards Tuon at the end of KoD but has not created any kind of foundation in Mat's characterization as to why.
We also got the long separation between Attolia and Gen where they are haunting each other with their absence. Attolia and Gen just get the time that is needed to develop this relationship in a way that's believable. Time in the story, not page time. This book is shorter than CoT & KoD, and probably shorter than if you made a "Mat and Tuon" novella out of their scenes in those books. It's the actual 'in world' time that matters, that gives Attolia and Gen time to think about each other and miss each other in a genuine way.
For another comparison -- Gen 'steals' Attolia to marry her like Mat kidnaps Tuon, but the context is so incredibly different on every level. Mat gets, essentially, tricked into kidnapping Tuon by the 'finn (it never would have happened if he hadn't heard that prophecy) while Gen acts with intention the whole way through. Technically, in both cases, Gen and Mat are 'saving' Attolia and Tuon by kidnapping them, but we feel the weight of it with Gen and Attolia in a way that we don't with Mat and Tuon. And a lot of that is because the bulk of Gen and Attolia's build-up happens before the kidnapping, during the times when they're separated and haunted by each other. So once the kidnapping happens, it's quick-paced and moves the plot forward rather than, you know, just fucking around with a circus for a month.
We also know that Attolia has complicated feelings about Gen already. I talked about this with @markantonys but that really is something that needed to happen with Tuon so much sooner than it does in the books (there are two big Mat & Tuon scenes in AMoL that desperately needed to happen back in CoT, imo -- Tuon trusting that Mat isn't trying to kill her; and Tuon going wild trying to protect Mat in the command tent).
Attolia and Gen also genuinely have things that they can each offer the other person, while with Mat and Tuon, none of the things that Tuon offers are things that Mat actually wants (slaves bowing to him; being dressed up like one of the Blood; being formal at all times - these are things that some of Mat's fans want for him, but not things he wants for himself) and she just feels like this ravenous black hole that constantly takes and takes and takes and gives back nothing of value. When Gen is startled at the realization that marrying the Queen of Attolia makes him the King and he'll have to actually be a king, it's this incredibly sweet moment, because it illustrates so clearly that he wants Attolia for herself and not her country. When Mat reacts against the idea that marrying Tuon makes him royalty, it just kinda makes him look dumb, because we've been given nothing of value in Tuon herself as a person, and no reason for Mat to care about her.
With Tuon, Mat talks about how she's better than other nobles, but nothing she actually does on the page is better than any other Seanchan noble. It's all 'footage not found'. By contrast, every single positive thing that Gen says about Attolia is backed up by the text and we even get shown additional positive qualities that no one needs to talk about because it's right there in the text.
With Tuon, it feels like Mat is attempting to gaslight me (and himself?) into believing that an interesting character exists there despite all the evidence against it, while Attolia simply is a compelling character based on what happens on the page.
That fact that there are so many raw similarities between the two pairings, but my reaction to them are so different really does illustrate the importance of execution, imo. Attolia and Gen's romance manages to travel so much further than Mat and Tuon's, while also being considerably more economical with how many pages it took to get us there.
The point-by-point comparison (aka WoT's failure of execution):
Tuon's interior life is poorly illustrated in comparison to Attolia's; because she starts off as an even worse person than Attolia but so much less character work is done on her than on Attolia, who is haunted this entire book by how she has "sunk so low as to torture boys" (on that note, Turner's choice to make Gen the younger and more openly vulnerable one really works here).
Seeing that Attolia's handmaidens are genuinely affectionate and protective of her at the end of this book is so incredibly touching, because she had no expectation of their loyalty (she believes in the loyalty of gold, and gold alone, for the most part). Tuon, otoh, has slaves that she expects to be subservient and loyal unto death, so her slaves' affection for her (that was trained into them) is something that completely fails to move me. This difference in the expectations of the character also makes a huge difference in how their PoVs come off -- Attolia's walls are due to her internal vulnerability and we get to see that vulnerability in her PoVs; while Tuon comes across as full of herself and incredibly arrogant, taking everyone around her for granted.
We're told that Tuon is smart and perceptive but rarely get any evidence; while Turner shows us Attolia's intelligence and how she sees a lot more than people like the Medes ambassador believe that she does. We get to see Attolia's intelligence in how she tricks the Medes ambassador into believing that she's so much less perceptive and intelligent than she truly is. This is another place where Jordan's unwillingness to ever place Tuon into a genuinely vulnerable position really hurt the character. Turner wasn't afraid to make Attolia the underdog and knew that it wouldn't undermine her as a character, it would strengthen her, because we would get to see who she was in adversity. The set-up of Crossroads of Twilight should have led to us seeing Tuon in adversity but Jordan was allergic to allowing her to be truly vulnerable, and gave her people to hide behind (Selucia & Setalle Anan) the entire time.
Mat as an agent of chaos is wildly downplayed in comparison to Gen as an agent of chaos. The Seanchan end up getting spared the chaos that the end of the Age brought to pretty much every other society, even though Mat seems clearly positioned to bring their society crashing down even as late as Winter's Heart. Gen's actions, otoh, are constantly throwing other people's plans off.
Mat does not behave realistically to the horrible things that Tuon says and does -- with Gen, even though we find out towards the last third of the book that he was already in love with Attolia before the book begins, we still get his raw reactions to her doing things that hurt him. He has nightmares after she orders his hand cut off, his pained begging of her not to hurt him again, and how he develops his own mask of impassiveness that is modeled on her own. Gen also never throws away his moral code in order to try to force himself to be at peace with the relationship -- he grows and changes as a character as a result of his trauma, but he stays himself at the core.
Something else that Jordan could have used more in the books that would have helped develop an understanding of why Mat believes that something exists beyond Tuon's 'cold Empress mask' would have been to make the comparison between Rand's mask and Tuon's mask more clear in the narrative. Because there's too much separation in time between Rand and Mat's interactions with Mat and Tuon's interactions. In this book, seeing that Eddis also needs to put up a queenly mask of not caring about Gen at first (in front of the Attolian guards when they return him to her after his hand has been cut off) helps illustrate why Attolia needs the mask that she uses -- Eddis doesn't trust the Attolians, but Attolia feels like she can trust absolutely no one, and so she always needs the mask and feels like she can never take it off. That's compelling! It could have been compelling in Tuon too, if it had been written better.
On that note: Turner personalizes the damage that Attolia's cold mask and her ruthless defense of herself/her country is doing by having her hurt Gen directly, and that being something that she struggles with over the course of the book. With WoT, Jordan basically did everything he could to hide away the damage that Tuon/the Seanchan were doing from Mat in order to try to justify why he could ~fall in love~ with her (was it intentional? to set their relationship up for a fall later in the Outriggers? we'll never know) without ever actually changing Tuon/the Seanchan for the better, which also meant giving Tuon no reason to have any internal struggles over the choices that she's made.
Gen and Attolia get another thing that Mat and Tuon desperately needed but that Jordan refused to give them: privacy. They negotiate getting married (after Gen has kidnapped Attolia in a much more narratively satisfying kidnapping than Mat and Tuon's!) in privacy, just between the two of them; when we get the conversation about their feelings at the end, again it happens in private. That makes a huge difference. Jordan being unwilling to ever actually yank Tuon away from her full power base and her slaves was a huge hindrance to ever allowing her to be vulnerable. And I do chalk this up to unwillingness and not failures due to plot set-up because there is no good reason to have Selucia tag along on the kidnapping and then it's even more bizarre in CoT & KoD, when the character of Setalle Anan goes from being fond of Mat to all of a sudden acting like he's the worst person in the world and she must protect poor helpless baby girl Tuon from him.
Both Attolia and Tuon get tricked by their respective love interests about who they are as a person because of the facade that they put up, but Attolia still has respect for Gen and his skills, even as she doubts his character, and it is Gen's own actions that show her who he really is and make her believe in him; while with Tuon and Mat, she spends over a month with him and still refuses to look past his surface until she literally has her face rubbed into it by seeing the Band's reactions to him. This difference is a key one in making Attolia's failure to see Gen as a failure due to the protective walls that she has up; while Tuon's failure comes across as her just not being very perceptive or intelligent. And the fact that we don't get the moment when Tuon begins to have even the faintest shred of respect for Mat until the end of Knife of Dreams just meant that I felt even more like all the pages time that Jordan spent on the two of them in CoT & KoD was a complete waste of my time.
We got to have genuine reactions from all of Gen's loved ones about the relationship! This is a huge place where, I guess, Sanderson is the one who failed for a change instead of Jordan because wtf was Perrin's "lol you married now bro? haha" reaction to Mat being married to a slaver? Though Jordan also does this to a certain extent with Thom, who we are supposed to believe is in love with Moiraine, and yet who never calls Mat out on courting a woman who would enslave and torture Moiraine if she had the chance. By contrast, Eddis is genuinely hesitant and worried because of everything they've heard about how cold Attolia is, and because she's the reason that Gen's hand was cut off.
We get to see Attolia and Gen develop a shared language and see behind each other's walls. The moment when she wears the earrings that he left for her, and he knows that it means she's chosen to marry him of her own free will is such a huge and impactful moment, and the only people who are aware of what it means are Attolia and Gen! This is really a failure that happens based on earlier failures of execution: because Mat and Tuon are never allowed to be alone together, it's impossible for them to develop this kind of shared coding and shared language.
12. We also have the 'footage not found' issue, where one of the characters (mostly Mat) tries to tell me something about Tuon but the narrative completely fails to back it up: this is the case with Tuon being intelligent and perceptive (in the narrative shown to us, she never picks up on anything until her nose is forcibly rubbed in it); and this is case with Mat thinking near the end of Knife of Dreams that Tuon belongs in the same 'better than other nobles' bucket as Talmanes when she has never shown herself to be willing to make better choices than other Seanchan nobles: he is still, at this point, worrying that she might enslave him and turn him into her cupbearer; she has not only threatened but actually assaulted his companions; whenever she's placed in a position of power over other people, she takes advantage of it and them. We're told that she's not a child but she also throws a tantrum (and pottery) at Mat at the start of Crossroads of Twilight. This could have worked if Jordan had leaned into the fact that Mat is deliberately lying to himself in order to make his marriage bearable, but that's where things like randomly having Setalle Anan go over to Tuon's side messes with that narrative.
13. When Jordan has Mat think about how Tuon dying would be a deep loss to him, it's just baffling because she has not done a single thing the entire 'courtship' that has shown why in the world Mat would feel that way. All of the attempts at reaching out during the courtship are Mat's, while Tuon just smugly accepts it as her due. Because Attolia doesn't just accept Gen's love as her due, because she actually doesn't believe him and challenges him on it, we get to hear his justification of it and why he feels that way, and then we also get to see her reciprocation. The relationship is a two-way street in The Queen of Attolia.
14. Which ties into the fact that Jordan chose to make Tuon not just a slaver but an enthusiastic slaver who enjoys the slave-breaking process and that is an incredibly dark place to start a character but it could have worked if it had been the beginning of Tuon's character arc and we'd actually watched her change and grow from that position. And she had the narrative set up for it! In her very first chapter, the reader learns that Tuon has the ability to learn to channel! She was created with the narrative juice to have a compelling arc about accepting the truth about herself and her people. And then Jordan gave that arc to Bethamin instead, lol.
15. In both of these stories 'fate' does kinda serve up Gen/Mat to Attolia/Tuon on a silver platter, but the execution of the storylines makes the reveal that fate was acting to push the two of them together so much more effective in The Queen of Attolia. Choice is a much larger consideration in Attolia and Gen's relationship than it is in Mat and Tuon's. There are elements of the higher powers of the world at work in both relationships, but Attolia and Gen have to put in the work themselves and have to face hard emotional truths in order to get us to the satisfying ending. I get the impression that Tuon wouldn't know an emotional truth if it spit in her eye. We actively see both Gen and Attolia consider and reject the idea of solving their main problem (about the war) without needing to get married; we see them choose their marriage and each other.
With Mat and Tuon, this is a lot more muddled. Fate/the Pattern/the 'finn want them to marry each other but we never get any kind of payoff as to why, and this is primarily because of Jordan's other storylines imo. He should not have had Rand already willing to make peace with the Seanchan in his separate storyline. Convincing Rand to be willing should have been Mat's job (because that also would mean that Mat would need to make the arguments to convince the readers). Jordan showing at the end of KoD that Rand is willing to make a deal with the Seanchan, even at the cost of giving in on the matter of slavery, basically completely voided any narrative reason for Mat and Tuon to get married, but without the satisfaction of seeing the two of them grow to a place where they would actively make that choice rather than being motivated by what they believe is necessary (due to prophecy).
There really were the bones of a potentially compelling story with Mat and Tuon, and I really do hope that the show (when we get there) is able to take those bones and turn it into a genuinely compelling story.
#the queen's thief#butterfly reads tqt#butterfly book club#wot book spoilers#a memory of light#wot#wheel of time#seanchan cw#wot meta#my wot meta#irene of attolia#eugenides#mat cauthon
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ALL GREEK LOVE, LEE H.
synopsis — you spent the entire summer telling your family that you weren't going to join a sorority. now not only are you an initiated member of delta eta sigma, but you've been elected to the social chair position for you chapter. that's all well and good until heeseung lee, the newly elected social chairman for lambda rho and well-known in the greek community, reaches out to you to start planning runouts between your respective chapters. and now you're spending a lot more time with the cutest boy you've ever met.
genres &&. warnings — romance, fluff, meet-cute, smut, strangers to friends to lovers!au, college!au, greek life!au &&. underage drinking, afab!reader, tipsy sex, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), fingering, overstimulation.
word count — 15.7k.
from the author — not to be totally sorority girl, but the way i see greek life depicted in college au fics is CRAZY. now that i'm back hardcore into my kpop stan era, i rewatched the drunk-dazed mv and was like hmm... so the ultimate plan here was to write heeseung filth but also portray greek life a little more accurately because even if i'm not a huge fan, one thing about me is i'm gonna make sure y'all KNOW that greek life isn't just parties every weekend.
jokes aside, i really hope you enjoy this fic and my first real return to writing. likes, reblogs, and feedback are always welcome. and honestly, if you have any questions about greek life that you just have to know the answer to, i'm an open book.
if you enjoyed it, feel free to buy me a ko-fi!
the entire summer before starting your freshman year of college, you had told your family that you weren’t going to join a sorority. in your mind, there was a specific mold that one needed to fit into to join a sorority and quite frankly, you checked none of the boxes of those stereotypes.
yet here you sit, months later, in your sorority’s chapter meeting. and you’ve just been elected to the social chair position of the chi nu chapter of delta eta sigma.
truthfully, you’re not quite sure how you ended up here. you hadn’t formally rushed the week before school, but a couple of drunk girls at a frat party at the beginning of the semester had told you that you should rush their sorority. maybe you’d been a little desperate to branch out or maybe you were just a little curious of what rushing looked like, but a few days later at the student organization fair, you’d found the booth for the sorority the girls had told you they belonged to, delta eta sigma, and signed up for their informal rush.
by the end of october, you had been extended a bid, assigned a big, and promptly initiated into the chapter in what you jokingly referred to as a cult ritual (how could you describe it any other way? all white outfit? candles? promises to not divulge secrets about rituals that happen behind closed doors?).
and now, just three weeks after officially joining the chapter, you’ve ended up on the programming board somehow. you’d gotten a call from the selection board while sitting in the drive-thru of mcdonalds, waiting impatiently for your order of fries and a sprite as a treat for doing well on your gen psych quiz. the girl who’d called you said you’d made “quite the impression” on the sorority since accepting the bid and that they (including the chapter advisor) thought you’d be the perfect fit for the social chair.
“it’s a solo position, so you won’t have a co-chair like community service does, but given your grades so far this semester and the impact you’ve made on the chapter already, we would really love to see what you can do in this position! would you be interested?”
so really, how could you say anything but yes? you still don’t think you fit all that perfectly into the chapter, but they were giving you an opportunity to get involved and to make yourself fit. your name is announced for the social chair, one of your senior pictures pasted up on the powerpoint, and the girls around you smile and snap their fingers. from the executive board seats up front, your big smiles at you, eyes sparkling with something akin to pride.
a few days later, as you’re getting lunch at the student union, your phone screen lights up with a notification from groupme. a name you vaguely recognize is paired with a message that gets cut off after a few words.
heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho and…
as you sit down with your salad and dr. pepper, you click the notification and read it in full. at the very top of the new message thread is heeseung’s picture and it clicks where you recognize him from. he’s friends with your big and he’s involved in a few of the bigger student organizations on campus, namely the activities board, so you’ve seen him in the student union fairly often.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: hey! this is heeseung from lambda rho! i’m friends with liv and she told me that you just got elected as the new social chair for your sorority. i just got slated into the same position for my frat.
[1:36 pm] heeseung lee: i know we won’t start running things until next semester, but i just wanted to reach out and touch base with you. i’m really looking forward to planning runouts with you next year :]
[1:37 pm] heeseung lee: sorry. i hope that wasn’t too weird. i guess i’m just a little too excited and want to get a bit of a headstart on things. have a good day!
you laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you set the phone down to take a bite of salad. before getting involved in greek life, you always assumed sorority girls and frat guys were airheaded and mean, people who peaked in high school, trying desperately to drag those glory days out. obviously since then, you’ve come to realize that while it is true in some occasions, most times, greek life members are the opposite.
heeseung, who you’ve never spoken to before, is proving that.
[1:42 pm] hi heeseung! not weird at all, i promise. and i’m really excited to plan events with you next semester too :]
by the beginning of february, you haven’t done much with your position. granted, the semester has only really been in full swing for about a week and a half and you have two full semesters to do plenty of things, but you’re itching to start planning. the binder you were given after the officer transition ritual has so many good ideas, everything from runouts with frats and sororities to both formal and semiformal.
while you’re brainstorming ideas for potential social events late on a tuesday night, your phone lights up from its spot on your nightstand, the short bell sound ringing out. you reach for it absentmindedly as you finish writing down the idea you had (rent out skating rink??? check budget). since the beginning of the school year, you’ve become desensitized to the groupme icon when it appears in your notifications, so much so that you barely register heeseung’s name upon first glance. it takes a second look for you to realize who’s texted you.
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: sorry for texting so late. i just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up some time and start on some ideas for a runout?
[9:12 pm] heeseung lee: obviously not now!! but if you’re free some time this week, we could meet somewhere and talk. i spent all of winter break brainstorming stuff, so i’d really like to run it by you if that’s ok.
[9:14 pm] hi again heeseung. i was actually planning on getting lunch tomorrow at the student union after i’m done with class at 11 if you’re free then?
the second you press send, you immediately start second guessing yourself. does it come off like you’re asking him to have lunch with you? because that wasn’t your intention. really, you just meant that you’re going to be on campus proper for a little bit and wanted to offer to meet before you got lunch. not that it would be a bad thing if he asked if you could get lunch together; liv likes heeseung well enough and you’ve seen him around, and he really does seem nothing but nice, so lunch really couldn’t hurt— okay, take a breath. it is not that serious.
you take a deep breath and then let your muscles go lax as you exhale. better.
it feels like ages pass before he texts back. you’re worried you’ve scared him off, but it really shouldn’t be that stressful. it’s just a text and he’s the one who wanted to meet up in the first place anyways; you just offered a time and location. but finally, your phone dings again and his name lights up your screen.
[9:21 pm] heeseung lee: actually that works perfect!! i get out of class at the same time and usually grab lunch at the u before heading to the activities board office. wanna meet by the dining area next to the office?
[9:21 pm] sounds like a plan!! i’ll see you then!
heeseung, you realize as you set your phone down and put away your binder for the night, is the only social chair of any of the greek organizations who has reached out to you to start getting the ball rolling. he seems to be just as anxious as you are about doing this job well, which makes you feel at least a little validated. nervous and jittery though you may be about meeting him for the first time tomorrow after only having chatted with him over text twice, the idea of him feeling the same as you brings a strange form of comfort. with enough of it, you actually start looking forward to seeing him tomorrow as you lay down to sleep, mind running a mile a minute with what it’ll be like to meet him after all of the things you’ve heard about him from liv. by the time you slip into the embrace of sleep, anxiety has boiled down into anticipation.
at 11:02 the next morning, heeseung nearly scares the hell out of you when he shows up at the designated meeting spot. you’re so invested in your twitter scroll that you don’t notice when he walks up. it’s not until he says a soft “hi” that you jump and almost drop your phone in the process. when you look up, there’s a worried look on his face.
“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!”
after a moment to catch your breath, you shake your head and wave his worry off, though the gesture doesn’t do much to make that worried look on his (undeniably pretty) face. “it’s okay, heeseung. really.”
to really seal the deal, you shoot him a gentle smile, trying to prove that your heart isn’t about ready to give out anymore. you feel blessed when he returns it, all quirked up at the corners and smile lines and soft, plush cheeks. silence falls, the two of you smiling and staring at each other like idiots until heeseung shakes himself out of his stupor.
“anyways…” he clears his throat and moves his gaze towards the food court. “what did you want to get to eat? my treat.”
you look up at him, at the way he’s pointedly not looking at you and instead examining the restaurants just beyond the dining areas. you know, the restaurants that have been the same for the last five years probably and will be here for another five, the ones he’s grabbed food from at least a couple of times since the semester started and even more since the beginning of the school year.
“you don’t have to buy me lunch, heeseung. it’s-”
he finally turns to look at you again, that same easy smile still pulling his features into a soft form of happiness. “it’s no problem, really. just an act of good faith. all greek love and whatnot, you know?”
you laugh a little at that, conceding but allowing him to choose where he wants to get lunch from since he’s the one paying and you don’t really have a preference. by the time you’re sat opposite each other at a table with meals from the burger stall, your stomach is rumbling. you’re about half of the way through your burger when heeseung looks up from his fries, clearing his throat to get your attention.
“so…” he starts. it’s clear he hadn’t planned what he wanted to say before catching your focus, so an awkward silence settles over him, eyes on you but focused somewhere off behind you like he’s looking through you instead. you tilt your head, lean in close, which snaps him out of the trance and he restarts. “right, ideas for events. i have a binder from the last social chair of my frat with a bunch of things he did during his time.”
“oh! i do, too!” you interject. “there’s a bunch of stuff that the last girl did and then things some of the girls before her did too.”
heeseung’s grin breaks back across his face, bright and warm; you swear, a smile from this boy alone could break up the threatening winter storm currently hanging over campus. “there’s a bunch of good ideas in mine. but i’m not quite sure how well they’d work right now because of the weather.”
“are most of the ideas outside?” you inquire, taking a sip of your soda while he confirms your suspicions. when you put the cup back down, you wave off his concern. “no worries then. almost all of mine are ones that can be inside, so we could go through those if you want!”
heeseung nods and smiles that morning sunlight smile of his, and you can’t move quick enough to pull the thin pink binder out of your tote bag. he clears away some of the trash from the table so you can lay out the binder, intro page on full display. for the next five minutes, the pair of you pore over the pages upon pages of ideas, sleek white cut through with black ink that lists the idea, the locations, how much it costs.
you’re so invested in going over everything with him that you hardly acknowledge when heeseung stands and moves into the open seat beside you so neither one of you is craning your neck. you simply adjust the binder so you can read through the pages comfortably. it isn’t until heeseung points one out excitedly and you look up in startle that you finally notice that he isn’t a foot away but inches, noses just centimeters apart.
right now, this is the most compromising position you could possibly be in with a boy you hardly know and you find yourself praying that nobody from either of your chapters decides to walk by. of course, neither of you have anything to hide – this is a simple brainstorming session, of course, absolutely nothing more – but liv and your small group of friends would never let you live this down if they saw it.
heeseung clears his throat after seconds that stretch into years and you break your gaze from his painfully (how can you be blamed for staring? he’s that soft kind of pretty that hypnotizes). “um… so i think rollerskating could be fun…”
it is a good event that your sorority has done with the other frats and sororities in the past, one that you were playing around with as a potential plan to pitch to him. the fact that he picked it out on his own accord makes you bristle with something akin to pride, a feeling so warm and comforting it has you leaning just a little closer to him.
let the girls see me, you think as your sweater-clad shoulder brushes against his own. there are worse things they could catch me doing.
“actually… this was one of the ones i was going to suggest if you didn’t find any that you were really interested in…” you say quietly, voice nearly lost in the din of the dining area of the student union.
heeseung looks at you, blinking slow and round and soft, as if each flutter of his eyelids is a moment of his brain processing your words. “really… maybe it’s a sign…?”
his voice is just as soft, matching your energy in one swift go. you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing as you, if he’s feeling that it seems like you’ve known one another forever despite only knowing each other for fifteen minutes max; it seems like your souls themselves are in complete synergy, so why would it be so farfetched to wonder if maybe you knew each other in a different life to have caused that synchrony?
you laugh a little and shrug, shoulder brushing against his softly; the movement is short and sweet, but your heart rises in you like the high tide, washing through your veins with foam and salt and the kind of breeze only the ocean can bring, chill and warm all at once. “maybe so.”
silence settles over the table like sand stirred on the ocean floor, the both of you lost in your own worlds. heeseung has dragged his soda to this side of the table and sips absentmindedly, gaze focused miles beyond the horizon of the hallway. he’s completely checked out when your consciousness wanders back into your body and you take the moment to study him a little: the even slope of his nose, high cheekbones paired with plush skin, long eyelashes that brush the apex of his cheeks when he blinks, a flutter of dark against light.
there are worse boys you could be caught staring at.
you’re still thinking about your lunch with heeseung hours later, even when you’re out getting your weekly tuesday night ice cream with your big. liv is going on about how her professor for her linguistics class pissed her off during lecture today, but you’re not absorbing a single word of any of it. you remember vaguely that he openly disagreed with her during the lecture and they got into a debate in front of the whole class, but beyond that, you don’t know much else.
“god, he’s just the worst. i can’t believe– alright, you’re in the stratosphere right now. what’s going on?”
you snap back to reality, eyes wide and goosebumps prickling up under the sleeves of your sweater. you shake your head, trying to brush away the conversation she’s trying to prompt, even though it’ll be futile because liv can’t let things go for the life of her. “nothing! everything’s fine, i swear.”
liv’s eyes narrow and a single dark eyebrow quirks up. “yeah, i’m not buying it.”
you glare playfully at her, eating a spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. when you swallow, you answer with a pointed, “when do you buy anything i say? really, liv. it’s nothing.”
“did someone say something to you? i’m part of panhellenic and on the all-greek council. if someone did something, i can handle it.”
you shake your head earnestly and wave a hand for extra emphasis. “olivia. seriously. nothing happened.”
your big is silent for a few moments, studying you intently. her shady blue eyes, usually wistful and giving the impression of being miles away herself, cut right down to your very bone, as if she’ll find the answer she’s looking for written into your skin or soul, carved into your heart. eventually, she sighs and slumps back against the booth.
“alright, fine. i’ll believe you this time,” she says in a voice that hints at disappointment. “but you’d tell me if someone did say something to you, right? i’m serious about getting things taken care of if someone does something like that to you.”
you smile, reach across the table, rest your hand over her. “yes, liv. i would tell you if somebody treated me badly. you’re the only friend i have who would be willing to go to jail if needed. but i promise the situation doesn’t call for that right now.”
she perks up a little at your words and takes a deep breath, nodding. she’s back to her bubbly self, resuming her rant about her asshole linguistics professor who definitely shouldn’t have tenure. the whiplash her behavior gives you definitely just secured her an award for “most melodramatic” at formal in april (which, fuck you have to start planning that soon too).
you remain checked into liv’s rant, assenting when she asks you for your opinions on this professor who you’ve never met and never plan on meeting, and offering advice when she wants it. but you still find yourself wandering off at times, mind focused on heeseung.
you’re not sure why you don’t want to tell her about meeting with the boy earlier; she’s one of his friends and she’s always spoken so highly about him, so you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. in fact, she’s mentioned in passing a couple of times (mostly when she’s undeniably hammered) that she thinks you and heeseung would make a cute couple, even though she’s never seen the two of you interact, let alone exist in the same room.
but there’s something special about the thirty minutes you shared with heeseung. you met in a public place, sure, but something about it felt and still feels so sacred to you. it’s something you want to keep a secret for at least a little while. that soft sunshine smile and the low tide brushes of shoulders are things that, for now, belong solely to you and heeseung. it won’t kill liv to be left out of the loop for a while.
“do you think we should have it closer to midterms?” heeseung’s voice is pure static, like he’s going through a tunnel, even though there’s only half a campus worth of distance between you.
the two of you have graduated from groupme dms to phone calls over the course of three days. heeseung is saved affectionately in your phone as sseung with the deer emoji, one that you picked out as he sat across from you after you’d exchanged numbers; he doesn’t know about it, but he reminds you often of a deer caught in headlights with the way he stares at you all wide-eyed when you try to catch his attention.
“maybe? but people have to study. i’m not sure how often your guys are in the library, but i see at least thirty girls at the library every single night, so i’m not sure how willing they’d be to give up a night of studying, even if it is only for an hour, that close to midterms.”
heeseung’s small, thoughtful hmm is audible over the speaker and you smile to yourself over a basket of clean laundry. you’ve spent maybe three hours max with him over the last couple of days and already you have a pretty decent grasp on his personality and habits. right now, you can picture the way he likely looks up from his phone or planner and stares off past the beige cinderblock wall of his dorm room, turning possibilities over in his head.
“no, you’re right about that. i didn’t even consider it.”
you shrug as though he can see you, folding a pair of sweats and setting them to the side. “i’d definitely like for it to be soonish though. it doesn’t have to be planned super far in advance, you know what i mean? we’ve still got… what? a month until midterms?”
“i think so, yeah.”
you nod to yourself, hanging up one of your shirts. “okay, so what about two weeks from now? that lands us right in between now and midterms, so it’d be a happy medium.”
he’s silent on the other end of the line and you pause in your hanging of another shirt, worried that he’s thinking you’re stupid. of course, heeseung would never think anything like that about anyone because he’s the sweetheart to end all sweethearts. still, you worry because what this boy thinks of you is ridiculously imperative to your day to day functions.
three days, you remind yourself. you’ve known him for three days. there’s no reason for his opinions to hold this much weight.
you wonder if heeseung knows just how easy it is to like him, to be around him; if he knows just how much you want to see him all the time because he’s completely taken over your every waking thought. liv’s comments about him made in passing never could have truly captured just how amazing he is, nice and caring and so so pretty. you’re almost embarrassed to be this head over heels for him, but when he laughs over the phone or focuses all of his attention on you over a table in the food court, that mortification burns away into something soft and sweet and slow.
“i think that’s a great idea. not too soon, so we can make sure our chapters know it’s happening, but not too late that it disrupts any midterm studying.”
you breathe a sigh of relief and smile to yourself, resting your hands against the lip of the laundry basket. the rational part of your brain knew he was going to agree, but the part of you that so desperately craves his approval was disgustingly terrified that you wouldn’t receive it. now that you have, though, a heat rushes through you, pride warm and bright because you offered a good solution to the minuscule obstacle.
“yeah, exactly!”
you can just imagine the grin on heeseung’s face right now, delicate like freshly fallen snow. the image fills you with the giddiness of a high school girl, glad to be the one to have caused such a beautiful sight. “okay, cool. i’ll talk about it with the executive board, get it approved and whatnot, but i think we should be set, besides who’s paying for what.”
“what do you mean?” you question, brows furrowing as you finish up the last of your laundry.
“what do you mean?” there’s a playful, teasing edge in his voice. “someone has to pay to book the rink and the shoes, and don’t you think there should be snacks?”
“oh… yeah, i guess so.”
“so i was thinking we’d cover the booking and you could cover the food… but only if you’re cool with that! obviously, it’s not a big deal or anything, but i figured we should get that in order too so we can a specific date set and everything.”
“no, no! that works fine for me! i honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead, so it’s a good thing you did.” the line falls silent for a few moments, static crackling softly between you. there’s just something about the idea that you’re so close yet so far from each other, physically distant but holding each other close like this over a quiet cellphone line. it’s comforting to have him like this, you find.
“but yeah…” you break the stillness with your voice soft so as to not completely shatter the tranquility you’ve cultivated here. “that’s… that’s good thinking, heeseung.”
“hanks…” his own words mimic the same volume, nearly lost in the haze of the phone. “so… i’ll run it by the exec board and let you know?”
you hum a quick mhmm and tell him that you’ll do the same. there should be no reason that you’ll be denied, but the fact that liv, seeing as she’s vice president of programming, is part of the exec board and will find out that you’ve been, at the very least, talking to heeseung on a semi-regular basis (see: every day this week since tuesday afternoon) is a little nerve wracking, mostly because you’re ninety-nine percent sure she’s been hinting at trying to set the two of you up.
and when you say hinting, you mean pointing him out on campus or at parties and saying something like “really, i think you two would get along so well! you should go and talk to him.”
she was right about that, but the last thing you need right now is her finding out that you are catching feelings, all without her meddling. but you’ll make peace with the fact because you have to.
liv sidles up to you two weeks later on a thursday night, knit-clad arms crossed over her chest. you don’t even have to look at her to know she’s wearing a smug expression right now. “so…”
you don’t even physically react to her presence, instead choosing to gaze out over the rollerskating rink in your little college town. “so… what, liv?”
she nudges you with her shoulder and leans with her back against the wall separating the rink floor from the carpet of the sitting area. “you and heeseung, huh? i’ve been telling you for ages that the two of you would get along!”
you scoff playfully and roll your eyes, finally turning your head to look at her. “can you not start sentences like that?”
“like what?” she asks innocently.
“like heeseung and i have something going on. all we did was plan one runout together. we’ve only met, like, one time in person.”
you regret the words almost as soon as they leave the tip of your tongue because the second she hears the phrase “in person,” she’s already causing a scene. even though her voice is somewhat drowned out by the music blasting over the speakers, the absolute tenacity with which she gestures with her entire body draws more attention than it should. melodramatic as per usual.
“in person? when was this? and why was i not informed?” the questions liv asks a million times come out more like exclamations than anything else, too caught up in melodramatic distress to adjust the tone of her voice correctly.
you shrug absently, turning your head back towards the rink. heeseung is standing on the opposite side, talking to a few of the guys from his frat. he looks nice in his blue and green sweater and loose jeans, brown hair tousled from the winter breeze outside. “a couple weeks ago. and i didn’t tell you because it just wasn’t that important. we literally only had lunch just to talk about ideas for this.”
liv whines your name and stomps a foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “yeah, but i’m your big. i wanna know these things! and i’ve also been trying to set you two up forever! you didn’t think i’d want to know that you’d finally met him, even if it wasn’t because of anything i’d plan? my feelings are hurt.”
“first, this is exactly why one of the awards for formal this semester is going to be most over dramatic and exactly why you’re going to win,” you start, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. “second, i knew you would want to know, but i also knew this is how you’d react. i didn’t think you’d want to know about us setting up an event together, like… there’s no tea to spill or whatever. it’s just boring stuff. i don’t even know him that well.”
a bold-faced lie if you’ve ever told one; you know heeseung down to the cologne he puts on every morning. and maybe there was a little more to the event planning sessions. at least five times over the past two weeks, heeseung has approached you either in the food court or at the library, and taken the seat opposite of you to chat and study a bit. not to mention, you’ve texted every single day since the two of you officially met for the first time.
but again: nothing liv needs to know. heeseung, for now, is just your little secret. the conversations you’ve shared, the little details you know about him, the sweater he’d given you a few days ago when you’d gotten cold at the library and your own sweater had gotten soaking wet due to rain and your lack of an umbrella, those are your things, special and personal and entirely yours.
“ugh. the two of you are so boring,” liv moans dramatically, tipping her head back. “i hope you hang out more after this, but only if you tell me about it.”
you shrug and glance back across the rink. heeseung has shifted positions, his arms crossed over the railing and by some stroke of luck, he’s looking at you, looking otherworldly under the shifting blue and purple lights. he smiles softly, just a quick phantom of a grin, and the only think you can do is return it with that same gentleness and warmth.
“maybe,” you say, glancing over at liv and then back at heeseung. “i guess we’ll just have to see.”
a week later, you’re sitting in your dorm room on a friday night, finalizing edits for a midterm paper, when there’s a banging at your door fifteen minutes before ten.
“heyyy! let me innn!” liv’s voice is airy and slurred through the door, so you can already guess what she’s here for.
with a heavy sigh, you stand and make your way to the door, opening it and finding your big leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. she’s dressed in her usual party attire: ripped jeans, black tank top, dirty shoes reserved specifically for the sticky basement floors of frat houses. she’s holding a metal water bottle in her hands; you can only guess what she’s mixed in it tonight.
“what’s up, liv?” you ask, leaning your shoulder against the doorframe, even though you don’t need an answer. you hadn’t anticipated her being here, so you’re already decked out in your comfy night clothes, prepared for a night in only.
“lambda is throwing a party and you’re going with me,” she says peppily, practically jumping up and throwing herself into your room.
“liv-“
she whips around on her heels to face you, eyes glowing in the soft gold of your fairy lights. “no fighting me on this. you’ve been working hard and you need a break. so you’re going to dress like the hot bitch you are and then we’re going to lambda.”
liv is rooted to the spot, though she sways a little on her feet, and makes it known without words that she is not moving until you get ready for this dumb frat party. eager to get her drunken glare off of you, you sigh and nod, closing the door behind you, shutting off your desk light, and moving towards your wardrobe, rifling through the hangers to find a proper outfit.
you’ve been to lambda rho’s house before and it is nothing to write home about… unless, of course, you’re talking about how absolutely filthy the basement is; they have the best sized basement out of all of the frats on campus, but you swear they have never done anything to clean the floor. the first time you went, you’d been having a great time drinking well-mixed jungle juice and dancing to the best songs of the 2010s when you noticed that every step you took sounded like velcro. the floor was so sticky that you were literally having to put pressure behind pulling your shoes from the concrete. it totally killed the vibe.
but the jungle juice and occasional jello shots are great, so you persevere. besides, lambda throws the best parties on campus and you’re clearly the person to trust on party hot takes since you only go back to frats you have a good time at (sorry, sigma pi).
plus, heeseung is in lambda rho and he has to be there since he’s the social chair and all, so… you note that out of the maybe five parties you’ve been to there since the beginning of the school year, you’ve never once seen him. granted, he’s only required to be at any parties hosted while he’s the social chairman, so maybe he just didn’t go to any last semester. or maybe he’s a wallflower like you, choosing to stand on the outskirts instead of in the center of attention.
lost in your haze of heeseung thoughts, you don’t really register that you’ve finished dressing and that liv has sat you down at your desk to fix your hair. somehow, while very much drunk, your big has an easy time styling it. she’s focused intensely on the task at hand, but also manages to carry on a one-sided conversation, not realizing that you’re not responding to her. but when she moves her hands from your head and sets them on the back of your chair, you’re amazed; she’s always been good at styling and fashion (hence why she’s been in charge of the homecoming student org dance and cheer competition every fall for the last two years), but you weren’t expecting her skills to be up to par while buzzed to hell and back.
“there we go, ready to wow heeseung,” liv says matter-of-factly, a proud look on her face. when you glare at her through the mirror, she smiles and shrugs lazily, reaching to grab her water bottle and phone from your desk. “what? he’ll be there tonight and i’ve heard through the grape vine that he might have a little crush on you, so…”
you whip around at her words, hands braced against the back of your chair. something like liquid anxiety prickles under your skin, sending goosebumps across your arms. liv is friends with just about everyone in greek life, so “the grape vine” could quite literally mean anybody, but who did she find that out from anyways? when did heeseung say anything like that? did he even actually say that or is she just deadset on shipping the two of you together until it either happens or falls through?
“what?”
she looks back at you over her shoulder, one hand resting on the doorknob and your dorm keys in the other. there’s a mischievous glint in her dark eyes and your heart drops; how did you get such a schemer as a big? “oh, yeah. i was hanging out at the lambda house the other night with yeonjun. you know? heeseung’s big? and he maybe mentioned something about it. why do you wanna know?”
she sidles back up to you, pulling you out of the chair by your shoulders. “do you maybe… i don’t know… like him back? why are you so nervous?”
you shake your head, trying to will the goosebumps on your arms and lightning in your veins away. you’ve claimed a million times over the last few weeks that there is nothing more going on between you and that boy, no matter how pretty or sweet you might think he is. heeseung is just a friend, someone you just so happened to click really well with and just so happened to plan a really fun event with. there’s nothing else to say about it or the way you get excited when his name shows up on your phone or how your day immediately gets better when he walks up to you at the library without texting you first, your favorite snack and coffee in hand and a smile on his face.
there’s nothing there to unpack. you think.
“i’m not nervous. and i bet yeonjun just misheard heeseung. the two of us are just friends. i’ve told you that a million times and i’m sure he’s said the same thing.”
liv just laughs and ushers you towards the door. “okay, okay… sure, sweetheart. let’s get over there before they run out of alcohol.”
jay, the self-appointed dj for every lambda rho party, is blasting year 3000 by the jonas brothers when you and liv arrive in the basement. there’s already a large group of bodies on the dance floor, but the bar area is still pretty crowded and getting worse. liv links her arm with yours so that you won’t get separated, even though there’s no chance of you getting lost or anything.
the two of you make your way towards the bar where yeonjun is “bartending,” a term he insists on using despite the fact that all he does is pour cups of vibrant red jungle juice. blonde hair hangs over his forehead and his skin is glistening with sweat already, looking weirdly ethereal under the colorful lights that fill the room. when he sets eyes on you and liv, he smiles brightly and leans against the bartop.
“hey, you two! glad you finally showed up!” he shouts over the music. “jungle juice?”
liv nods enthusiastically, mimicking his posture and crossing her arms on top of the counter. “yes please! any chances you have jello shots tonight too?”
the boy looks around before he leans in closer to answer. “don’t tell anyone else, but i made some just for you two since you’re my favorite customers.”
liv rolls her eyes and swats at his bicep, but she’s smiling anyways. “we’re not customers, jun. you’re not even getting paid to do this. when are you gonna stop acting like you’re a real bartender, huh?”
he clenches his hand over his heart and stumbles backwards, feigning pain. “you wound me so, liv. i did something nice for you and this is how you repay me. i can’t believe this!”
but in the midst of his monologue, he bends over to open a mini fridge behind the bar and returns with a couple of jello shots. he tells you to take them here while he gets your drinks and hide them the best you can so nobody gets up in arms that he’s providing something outside of the night’s menu. he’s always been especially nice to you, mostly because of liv and his undying love for her (though platonic or romantic, you’ve never been exactly sure about), so it’s all you can do to thank him and listen to his pleads for secrecy regarding the contraband jello shots. when he’s back above bar, you switch off, him discreetly tossing the small cups in the trash.
liv, finally armed with her precious red solo cup, turns to talk to some other friends, leaving you and yeonjun alone. the music is so loud you can hardly keep your thoughts straight, which is great for keeping your mind off of what liv said earlier, but doesn’t last long when yeonjun leans in ever closer, his cologne enveloping you entirely.
“you should thank heeseung for the jello shots, by the way. i honestly hadn’t even thought to make some for you and liv because i was busy with other stuff, but he asked about making some since he knows they’re your favorite.”
your heart clenches a little at the idea that heeseung wanted to make sure that you had things you liked at his frat’s party. it’s nice to have someone looking out for small things like that, even if it means breaking a rule or two. yeonjun rests his hand on top of your head and pats gently, a knowing look in his eyes.
“listen, i know that you swear up and down the wall that you and him are just friends, but for what it’s worth, he likes you a lot. he just won’t say it. you know him. he’s kinda bad with words. it’s not really my place to make his confession for him, but just… you know. give him a chance.”
you nod dumbly and give him a half-baked smile when he pulls his hand off your head. a few girls walk up, vying for their own drinks, so you take that as your cue to walk away, red solo cup cradled in your hands. any hope of not thinking about heeseung lee has been completely undone by both liv and yeonjun.
suddenly, you are far too sober.
two hours later, you’re five drinks in, only kept track of by the cups you have in your hand, and you’re feeling pleasantly buzzed. the lights are a little brighter, the music a little louder, liv’s arm hot and grounding around your shoulders. she’s completely gone, despite the fact that she’s only had three cups of jungle juice. she’s serenading you with dancing queen by abba, somehow getting every single word wrong.
“fuck, i’m way too drunk for this,” she says, breaking off a line in the middle of the second verse. “i’ll sing for you next time. promise.”
you laugh and lean against her, shaking your head. “okay, livvie. sounds good.” you’re content to end your sentence there, but you have an increasing awareness of how hot it’s gotten. the amount of people packed into the basement, especially in the center of the dancefloor like this, has contributed greatly to the heat and you need some time to cool down before it makes you sick. “listen, ‘m gonna get some air. ‘t’s getting really hot.”
liv nods and hugs you to her, voice chipper but slurred heavily. “‘kay! i’ll see you in a few.” she lets you go and breaks out into the next song, somehow worse than dancing queen.
you slip out of the crowd, already feeling a little cooler now that you’ve escaped from the hot press of bodies. standing on the outskirts of the dancefloor, you consider your options. there’s the open window that a cool breeze passes through or the door by yeonjun’s bar, which you know leads directly outside with a staircase up to the back deck. while you initially planned to be within arm’s reach for liv’s sake, your ears are starting to ring from the loud music and the choice is made for you.
you wave to yeonjun as you make your way towards the door. he pauses and leans over to ask you if you’re leaving, looking a little concerned, but you shake your head and tell him what you told liv. and then you tack on the information that she’s incredibly drunk, so he should watch out for her because knowing her, she’ll be tapping out sooner rather than later. he nods in understanding and lets you go, turning back to the two frat guys, jake and chan, that are standing at the bar.
the temperature difference between the basement and outside right now is jarring, but welcomed nonetheless. you carefully traverse the stairs, not quite confident in yourself to take them confidently, seeing as your sight is currently swimming a little and your head is light. getting to the top is a feat and you feel immediately better once you’re on the back deck.
you’re so out of it that you don’t realize you aren’t alone as you lean against the railing, reveling in the way the wood digs into your forearms and the chill bites at you through the sheer long sleeves of your black shirt. you’re still very much buzzed, but you feel a little more clear-headed now that you can hear yourself think.
the sound of your name startles you and you swear you jump ten feet in the air before you whip around, hand against your heart. heeseung is halfway out the back door, a cup in his hand and that deer caught in the headlights expression you’ve come to know well over the last month or so.
“jesus, heeseung. you scared the shit out of me!” you say, catching your breath and leaning back against the railing.
“i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to!” he finishes stepping out of the house and onto the deck with you, the door swinging shut behind him. he’s so earnest in his apology that you can’t help but smile, dropping your hand and instead taking a sip from your drink that you carried out here with you.
“you have a habit of sneaking up on me, huh?”
he joins you at the railing, leaning against it the way you are, and raises his own cup to his lips (perfect and plush and pink… enough of that). he shrugs as he drinks, wincing when it goes down rougher than he expected. the liquid that sloshes against the side is not the same color as yours, so you can only assume that one of the guys gave him something a little stronger than whatever they threw together for the jungle juice.
“i guess so,” he says through a small cough. “i don’t mean to, if that makes it any better.”
you laugh a little, nudging him with your shoulder. “it’s not a big deal, if that makes you feel better. i think it’s kinda funny.”
heeseung smiles at that and nods, keeping his eyes trained on the drink in his cup. it’s only when you’re committing his side profile to drunken memory that you realize the blush that’s crept up the back of his neck onto his cheeks and the tip of his ears. except, that sober voice inside your head argues it could just be from the cold.
but neither of you have been out long enough for that to be the case. it’s not even that cold out here, just a little bit chilly. drunk you is having sneaking suspicions, ones that sober you would never entertain, and this is the first time you’re seeing heeseung at one of his frat’s parties, so you might as well take advantage of it all as much as you can.
“yeonjun told me what you did… the jello shots for me and liv, i mean,” you clarify the second you realize how the first sentence sounds without context. “thanks. i didn’t think you were really paying attention to that kind of stuff.”
heeseung turns his head to look at you, eyes a little wide but that soft, perfect smile offsets it nicely. he looks a little surprised that you found out about it, but not upset that yeonjun mentioned it.
“well… i mean, of course i do. that’s kinda… what i do, you know?”
he’s beating around the bush. yeonjun was right; heeseung never talks about his feelings and he sure as hell won’t offer you the words you’re waiting to hear right now. so, drunk you reasons, why is the only way to confess through words? he’s shown you how much he cares, he’s been doing it for weeks now. maybe you were suppressing your own feelings to keep liv off your back about it all, but in doing so, you’ve been diminishing heeseung’s own attempts at telling you.
this whole thing with him has never been simply friends. love at first sight feels a little much, but you certainly have something between you and you have for weeks on end at this point. maybe it’s time to reward this beautiful boy for being so patient with you.
just as he’s beginning to turn his head away to look back towards the house, you set your cup on the railing and capture his face in your hands. there’s no moment for either of you to process what’s happening, just that one minute there’s a platonic amount of distance between you and the next, your lips are on his and it is warm and unpracticed and still unbelievably perfect. heeseung goes pliant and soft under your touch, his free hand resting gently on the small of your back. his fingers curl gently into your shirt, tethering himself to you. his other hand is still grasping his solo cup and you find yourself wishing he’d just drop the damn thing, even if it means the both of your shoes get soaked in whatever he’d been served (whiskey, you’d guess, from the smokey taste on his tongue).
he’s the first to pull away, eyes still closed for moments after. his breaths come shallow and his cheeks have gone impossibly red, his hand still against your back. you study him from this angle, closer than you’ve ever been, and somehow, you’re finding him prettier than ever before. maybe it’s the alcohol talking or the sudden lovesickness for him, but you don’t care because you finally kissed heeseung lee and left him breathless.
“what- um… what was that for?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering open. his pupils are blown wide and awestruck (you think that’s the right word in your jungle juice induced haze).
you shrug, inching yourself a little closer towards him. he turns to meet you so your bodies run parallel to each other and finally sets his offending cup on the railing next to yours. “got tired waiting for you t’make a move.”
he makes a sound in the back of his throat and turns his head to look elsewhere, as if looking at you might make him drop dead. any doubt you had from earlier in the night that he’d told yeonjun that he liked you is swept away in a single moment; he can deny it all he wants now, but you already know the truth, so what’s the point?
“liv told me that she heard through the grape vine that you liked me…” you say softly, voice trailing off into the muffled sounds of a kesha song blasting in the basement. “is that… true?”
you watch as he draws a deep breath, squeezes his eyes closed, steels himself for whatever answer he’s about to give. with all your liquid courage now, confessing might not have been a big deal, but you know that if you’d been sober, it would be just as hard as this. but you swear you saw him drinking jungle juice down in the basement an hour and a half ago, and now he’s drinking something stronger, so he must be so naturally shy that not even alcohol can wipe it out.
finally, he lets his breath out and focuses his attention on you again, his eyes soft and pleading. don’t break my heart. please.
“yeah… yeah, i got a little drunk last weekend and told yeonjun that i thought i had feelings for you when he got me back to my dorm. i’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable or if it ruins our friendship. i j–”
you kiss him again, hot and heavy and full of longing and words you don’t dare voice because you’ve liked him for a long time too; you were just too afraid to admit it to yourself. but now he’s spilling his heart out and you’d rather walk barefoot through broken glass before you let him go on thinking for a second longer that his feelings aren’t reciprocated tenfold.
you step impossibly closer, your bodies pressed tight and heavy, the seam unbreakable. heeseung’s hands (both thank god) rest on your waist, holding you close. he bristles under your touch as you leave one hand on his shoulder and the other sneaks around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling into the fine, soft hair there. your nails scratch lightly against his scalp and his chest shudders against yours, some small, refined gasp of approval passing from his mouth to yours as he takes his turn to kiss the breath out of you.
it’s a tiny noise, barely noticeable, barely passing as a soft breathy moan. but you hear it and it’s embarrassingly enough to have your knees going a little weak. well, it’s not just that minuscule noise; it’s everything, it’s the way heeseung’s lips move against your own with an uncharacteristic amount of surety, the way his fingers have slipped under your shimmery black top (a “donation” from liv’s closet last homecoming), the way you can feel his body coming alive under your attention. if this is going where you think it’s going, the dreams you’ve been having about him at least once a week since you first met are about to come true.
heeseung is the first to break away again, but he looks less nervous than the first time. no, this time he looks flushed and tousled and so attractive it should be illegal. when he shifts his weight from his left to right foot, his body brushes against you and the heat of him is unmistakable. even if you couldn’t feel it, you can see the way his eyelids flutter and feel the way his chest shudders against yours. you can’t help yourself; you need him.
“come back to my dorm,” you whisper breathlessly, words manifesting physically in a cloud of fog. “please.”
the boy squeezes his eyes shut again, looks up towards the sky, draws that deep breath he’s so fond of right now. you almost back out, almost say it was a joke; he just confessed his feelings and you kissed twice, so maybe it’s all a little much for him. you really like him and you don’t want to scare him off; besides, what you’re feeling right now is nothing you can’t take care of on your own back in your dorm room. just as you’re about to tell him that he can say no, he’s seemingly talked himself up enough because he looks down at you, smiles, kisses you on his own accord, and then takes your hand.
“lead the way,” he says.
you and heeseung stop at least five times on the way back to your dorm room to makeout, giggling into each other’s mouths as he presses you against a tree on the greens or as you pull him into the pools of darkness between streetlamps. every moment has him growing more confident, more certain that this isn’t just a hookup or a dream.
somewhere along the way, you text liv and tell her that you’re heading home because you’re not feeling well. it’s not farfetched, seeing as you’d broken away from her in the first place because you were feeling too hot. what happened between your departure and when the text is sent is entirely irrelevant right now. what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and she’ll hear about it sooner rather than later anyways.
it takes you maybe a full twenty minutes to reach your building, a feat considering how drunk you are and how obsessed you’ve been with heeseung for the last half hour. you fully expected it to take longer, but now, you stand under the golden glow of the entry to your dorm building, heeseung unlocking the door for you because you’re a little too gone right now and unwilling to take your hands off him,standing next to him, your arms hugging his free one while you lean your cheek against his shoulder. he fumbles with the key, muttering about how they should change to a keycard system instead, but he gets it eventually and you’re in.
after that, it’s practically a mad dash up to your dorm room on the third floor. your hand is twined tight around heeseung’s as you lead him up the stairs, too impatient to take the elevator right now. somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re glad that you took the time to clean your room today after class; heeseung will see a polished side of you, one that puts laundry away as soon as they’re out of the dryer, one that has glowing golden fairy lights above the window that gild your room in warmth, one that leaves books and binders stacked neatly in the shelf on your desk. not that he’ll be paying attention to any of it anyways, what with the way you can feel his cock pressing incessantly against you as you unlock your bedroom door, hot and straining.
agonizing seconds stretch into what feels like even more agonizing hours, but eventually, you get the door unlocked and guide him inside, stepping into the glow of your string lights that you’d left on before you left. you don’t even have to turn yourself around to look at him because he does it for you, turning you by your waist, pressing you fast against the back of the now-closed door.
his mouth is on yours in an instant, tongue swiping over your bottom lip, no doubt tasting the fruit punch yeonjun had added to tonight’s jungle juice recipe concoction. his hands are on your waist, curling hot into your skin, black mesh of your shirt scratching against you. it’s nice, how respectful he’s being right now, still ever the gentleman he’s been for the last month, but you don’t want nice and respectful right now. you’ve had literal dreams about this since you met him, driving your attraction to him higher with every one; you want mean and messy and rough, and that’s what you’ll get if it’s the last thing you do.
so in a bid to urge him towards where you’re really hoping this night goes, you grab at one of his wrists and drag his hand up to your chest, pressing his palm against your breast. you can feel his breath hitch against you and you smile into the kiss because how can he still be so shy when he’s kissed the breath out of you at least five times in the last forty-five minutes? either way, he gives a tentative squeeze and it feels mind blowingly good; you’ve never been one to really care much about attention focused on your tits, but heeseung makes it feel like maybe you should.
you get lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, one of his hands kneading at your chest, the other slowly slipping under your top, rough fingertips drawing up and down the skin of your stomach, so far gone that you don’t notice the thigh he’s slotted between your legs until he grinds it up against you. it’s sudden and so well-earned, some much needed friction that you’ve been craving since that second kiss on the deck in lambda rho’s backyard. he does it a second time, the hard plane of his thigh coming up hard against your clit, and your knees buckle a little, dropping you further onto him. you moan sweetly into his mouth, tilting your head back against the door as the hand on your waist works your hips against him with a scary but uncharacteristic practiced certainty. he takes the absence of your mouth against his to trail kisses on your neck, his teeth dragging along the sensitive skin, nipping and leaving love bites in his wake.
a well aimed grind of your hips, guided singularly by the boy in front of you, has you falling forward against his chest, your forehead pressed into the junction between his shoulder and neck. you keen against him in frustration, the crest rising but not breaking, no matter how hard to try to get it to.
“seung,” you cry against his skin, fingers curling tight into his sweater. “need more please.”
you almost sob in relief when you feel him nod against your neck, more so when you notice his own hips are stuttering against your leg that is bracketed by his. it’s enough to make you moan, the idea of him needing it just as much as you that he’s trying to hold himself back from getting off on your thigh too.
pressing your palms flat against his chest, you guide heeseung backwards in the direction of your bed (which you’re very suddenly glad you haven’t lofted). when the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress, he makes quick work of kicking his shoes off and then scrambling up so that his back rests against the wall. you follow suit, toeing off your party shoes and crawling onto his lap where he’s waiting patiently, his eyes wide and the browns of his eyes drowned out by his pupils. he’s breathing hard, chest heaving.
he looks up at you as you situate yourself, his hands coming to rest on your waist again. the expression on his face is nothing short of worshipful, like you’re a deity here to wrench your well-earned respect from his hands. and he is clearly ready to hand it over without a single fight. he guides you down onto him and you follow his hands willingly, your thighs straddling his and your clothed cunt just barely grazing against his hard-on until you settle down completely in his lap, not a centimeter of distance between you. the friction and pressure have both of you gasping wordlessly and heeseung tugs desperately at your hips. you fall into him, arms around his neck and pulling him to meet you halfway, lips locked once more. you give a tentative roll of your hips and heeseung moans into your mouth, just the reaction you were anticipating.
“fuck,” he moans the second time you do it. “you’re so good.”
you’re already hot, seared through to the bone, but you feel yourself go even warmer under heeseung’s praise. you’ve imagined this a million times over the last few weeks, but nothing could ever compare to the real thing. you kiss him harder, breathe him in deep to prove to yourself that this is real, that heeseung lee is under you right now, bucking his hips up into you and matching your movements, about to make you come just from a little bit of dry humping. it would be embarrassing if you weren’t both half-gone and ridiculously desperate.
you continue to rut against him, panting hot and heavy into his mouth as he swallows every single moan and whimper you let out just to return them tenfold, his hands working you over him with a rushed ease. every roll of your hips is met with his own presses upwards. he’s working you higher and higher with each move, closer to the precipice, and while you’ve never before thought you’d find yourself in a position like this, if heeseung makes you come without taking a single item of clothing off either of you, then so be it.
as if he’s read your thoughts, he presses you back and away from him. you open your eyes for the first time in minutes and take him in: messy hair, flushed cheeks, bruised lips. no wet dream could have ever prepared you for how beautiful he looks right now.
but no matter how pretty you think he is in this moment, the sudden absence of friction has you whining loudly, pitched high and tight. when you speak, your voice trembles out of frustration. “heeseung, why’d you stop?”
he sucks in a breath and moves to push at your shoulders some more. “don’t- fuck- don’t wanna come yet, not like this.”
if you weren’t already so fucked out, you would have giggled, but right now, you just feel exasperated. he’s right; you don’t want to come like this either, but you’d also come to terms with it because it would mean that you would at least be getting the release you’re so desperately craving. and that’s been ripped away from you, at least for the moment. but when he looks up at you again, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes still wide with need, you fold immediately.
“tell me what you want.” he’s practically begging you and it sends a thrill through you, liquid lightning straight to your heart. “please.”
and how can you deny him when he’s asked you so sweetly or when you’re just as needy as he is? at this point, whatever he’d offer, you would take gladly. he’s gazing at you now, waiting anxiously for an answer, not that you have a set one; you want him in any way he wants you, nothing else matters more than that. but you take in his swollen lips and lithe fingers and your mind is off to the races.
“i-” you start, but stumble over your words. you’d been incredibly forward when you’d kissed him first, but you’ve lost all of that fire now. you can’t bring yourself to ask for what you want, even though you’re certain he’d do anything you’d ask of him.
“c’mon,” he coaxes, fingers kneading into your shoulders to ground you. “whatever you want.”
the sound of his voice is earnest, nothing short of honest, and it makes you want to trust him more than anything. so you do. you draw in a steadying breath and curl your hands into his sweater as you work yourself up to it.
“will you-” another breath. “would you eat me ou-”
“yes,” he immediately answers. you don’t even get a chance to finish the question. “fuck. i thought you’d never ask.”
he moves his hands to cup your face and pulls you into him, kissing you sweetly, his nose bumping against yours. the minuscule break in sexual tension, while in most situations would be a mood killer, is nice because it just further cements that this isn’t some random one night stand; you want to see him every day for the rest of your life after this, if he’ll let you.
somewhere between the kiss and when he breaks away from you, he’s maneuvered you so that you’re laying back against your pillows. you’ve also managed to discard your shirt (thank god, the glitter and mesh combo was starting to irritate your skin something fierce) and he’s working to get your pants off, fingers fumbling with the button; it’s as frustrating as it is adorable and he swats your hands out of the way when you reach down to help him, deadset on doing it himself, which he does manage (eventually, after a few incredibly long moments). you help him shimmy down your jeans and panties by lifting your hips a little and then you are inarguably bare in front of him, a position you’d never imagined you would be in.
and maybe heeseung is a little wonderstruck too because for a few long seconds, he sits there and stares at you in all your naked glory (or nearly naked glory, seeing as you haven’t taken your bra off yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind). you’re starting to get a little bashful and have to nudge him with a bent knee to pull him out of his stupor. he’s impossibly red at the tips of his ears as he murmurs a sweet apology that comes accompanied by a “you’re just so pretty.”
before you can muster a reply, he’s situating himself between your legs, hands pressing softly against your inner thighs to draw them apart, set eyes on his real destination. you lift your head just a little bit, watching as his eyes widen as he takes all of you in, his breath hot against your folds. his fingers curl tight into the soft skin of your thighs and you whimper at the sting, equally painful as it is exhilarating. he makes an indistinguishable groan in the back of his throat before he’s completely devouring you.
plenty of your wet dreams about the boy between your legs right now have included this very scenario: his nose bumping carelessly against your clit, a suddenly confident tongue making a show of licking up all of your arousal, your thighs already trembling. but they never could have prepared you for the actual thing because he’s giving you what is quite possibly the best head you’ve ever had.
heeseung is eating you out like a man starved, it’s absolutely obscene. his tongue works you up fast, every little moan he lets out only contributing. somewhere in the midst, he says something that sounds like “you taste s’good,” but his words are drowned out by your own moans and the sound of his mouth working you over. every pass of his tongue over your folds is as close as you’ve ever gotten to heaven, but you’re lacking something to really shove you over that precipice; and now you know heeseung is so whipped he’ll do anything you ask him to.
“seung,” you gasp out breathlessly, untangling one hand from your comforter so you can wind your fingers into his hair. he looks up at you, doe eyes big and wide and glimmering with his eyebrows drawn together, a questioning look without pulling away to speak. you’re about to ask him when his nose bumps hard against your terribly sensitive clit and your word breaks off before the first syllable can even leave your lips. “fuck— seung, can you— can you add your fingers?”
you’re not quite used to asking for what you want, at least verbally; maybe it’s because any previous partners weren’t keen on getting you to verbalize, maybe it’s because they never particularly cared and just did what they thought was good. but heeseung is pliant and willing to please in any way he can, so you feel less embarrassed this time around because he’s made it entirely clear that your pleasure is his main priority.
he doesn’t nod, doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes again and goes back to work. you almost think he either didn’t hear you or is straight up ignoring you before you feel it. he pulls his hand from your right thigh slowly, letting his fingertips drag lightly against your skin; the menace is teasing you, where did that come from? but you don’t even have much time to internally complain about him holding out on you because he’s suddenly slipping two fingers into you, long, deft limbs that expertly seek out that spot inside you. he presses against it once, twice, three times, each one drawing out a whine from you.
it’s just what you need, the extra friction pushing you up that incline, closer and closer to the dropoff. when your back arches off the bed and your thighs close around his head, boxing him in against your pussy, heeseung knows he’s got you right where you want to be and then he doesn’t let up. it’s an onslaught of pressure, four different points of sensation, and you’re on the verge of tears. he’s making a complete mess of you, utilizing all he can to get you over that edge. you’re whining his name like it’s the only word you know, “yes” and “fuck” and “oh my god” getting lost in your slurred speech; he’d be evil incarnate if he denied you what you’re so beautifully begging for.
he presses incessantly at that spongy place inside you, nose bumping against your little bundle of nerves, moans growing more frequent, all while his tongue tries to catch every single drop of arousal. and then there you go, ecstasy taking over like liquid heat in your veins. his name sounds like pure euphoria on your tongue, mixed with your moans and whines. he thinks he could come just from this alone, your cum in his mouth and your thighs pressed tight around him, but he holds off because there’s only one place he wants to leave his release (if you’ll let him, that is).
“shit.”
you sound fucked out, completely gone and heeseung swears he’s never heard anything sexier. you tug at his hair a little bit, feeling completely overstimulated but still so good, a shock to your system as he pulls his fingers out of you and lets his tongue work over you just a little bit longer (to make sure you’re clean, he reasons to himself).
eventually, he does pull away and you have to fight the urge to whine again. his eyes are unfocused and glossed over, his chin practically dripping in your arousal. hell, his tongue darts out to get the last little bit of your cum at the corner of his lips and you nearly orgasm all over again.
“was it good?” he asks softly and you barely hold yourself back from laughing. he just made you come harder than any previous partner ever has, given you the best head in the world, and he’s asking you if it was good? he’s insane for thinking it was anything short of perfect.
but you don’t say that. you reach for his sweater, fingers curling tight into the cotton and tugging him down towards you. he catches himself by his hands, his arms bracketing you easily, before he completely crashes into you. there’s a long moment where he just stares down at you, lovestruck and pretty, before he lowers himself to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and you moan a little bit, feeling a little embarrassed, but one of his hands moves from its place on the mattress to cradle your cheek and that alone drives it away.
one of your arms sneaks over his shoulder, your fingers tangling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, while the other sneaks under his sweater, the shirt he wears underneath until the tips of your fingers brush the soft, pliant skin of his stomach. you can feel the gentle ridges of abs and a small piece of you shivers with giddiness. regardless, you enjoy a few seconds of running your fingers over his stomach before you push a little more incessantly at the offending pieces of material. he takes it for what it is: a plea to get rid of the clothes. after all, it’s not fair that you’re almost entirely undressed and he hasn’t taken a single article off.
you watch dazedly as heeseung sits back onto his heels, your eyes following his arms as he crosses them over himself, grasps at the hems, pulling them over his torso, his arms, his head before they land haphazardly on the floor next to your bed. every inch revealed to you makes your mouth water, his skin taut and soft and glowing in your fairy lights. you can’t help but remind yourself that dreams and an overactive imagination could never live up to the real thing because he’s very much the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen.
you’re entirely prepared to continue your makeout session, but heeseung seems to have other ideas because once his tops are discarded, he begins making work of his jeans. you make a soft noise in the back of your throat when you realize what he’s doing and he looks up at you, fingers stilling at his belt, his eyes wide.
“is something wrong?”
he sounds so sincere, it kind of makes you want to cry. but you shake your head earnestly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can look at him better. “no, no! everything is fine. i guess i just wasn’t expecting you to take your pants off so soon.”
he quirks an eyebrow at you and dons that pretty little smile of his, teasing but not really. “well, you’re almost completely undressed. figured it was only right that i do the same, y’know?”
and you laugh a little because it’s true and because he’s just so cute, he laughs too, soft and quiet. you generally think sleeping with someone is fun, but you’ve never had as much fun as you are right now. maybe it’s because it’s with heeseung and you like him so much already, so the playfulness comes easy; it doesn’t feel tense the way it has with others.
so you watch him handle his belt, the button on his jeans, the zipper. you watch, mouth watering once more, as he slips out of them, leaving his boxers, which have a dark wet patch on them. the sight alone would make you groan, but you can see the outline of his cock and you almost lose it completely. so you decide to resume the impatient act because you are still very much so; as cute as the playful routine is, you haven’t forgotten the exhilarating rush of trying to get to your dorm as fast as possible and the unpracticed fumbling that’s followed since then.
you reach for him and he doesn’t hesitate, letting you pull him on top of you by his shoulders, fitting your mouths together in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongues. your hands are in his hair again, his own slide underneath you to make work of your bra, unclasping it and then pulling the straps away from your shoulders, down your arms, making you let go of him for a quick few seconds so that he can pull it off completely and toss it god knows where in your room.
you’re distantly aware that you’re entirely bare to him now, but his mouth is working at your throat, dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin of your neck (he is strangely good at distracting you, you’re learning), so you don’t feel as shy as you did just a handful of minutes ago. either way, he’s sucking hickies into your shoulders, your collarbones, any skin that has a little bit of give to it that lets him leave love bites in his wake. so lost in the haze, you realize a little too late that he’s working his way towards your chest, but it doesn’t even matter, not when he has one hand kneading at one and his mouth at the other, tracing lines over your skin to quell the sting of each pinch, each little nip of teeth. your nipples pebble under his attention and while this never usually does much for you, you still find yourself getting antsy because it’s heeseung. everything he’s done for weeks has gotten you worked up, why would that stop now?
it doesn’t help that he’s grinding against you, his hips canting against your own for any semblance of friction. your arousal is no doubt contributing to the wet patch on his boxers and the idea of it almost has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. his cock feels hot and heavy against your folds, the head bumping against your clit, and all of it feels so delicious that you let out a crisp, high whine, twining your fingers into heeseung’s soft hair and tugging gently.
he pulls himself away from your chest and when you look at him, you almost moan. his lips are swollen, slick with spit, and his gaze has gone misty. he looks at you expectantly, blinking slow and lips pouted as he waits. you’re not even sure what you want from him right now, at least nothing specific because you want everything from him. you’re about to tell him to go back to doing what he was originally because it did feel good, but then he lands a particularly well-timed grind against you and you’re gasping.
“fuck,” you whimper, tossing your head back a little. your fingers tighten in his hair and from somewhere south of you, he laughs a little, light and easy and airy.
“that what you want from me?” he questions, pulling himself up over you, catching your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. in any other situation, it might come off as intimidating and teasing, but heeseung is all doe-eyed and halfway to heaven right now, so it comes off more desperate to please than anything. either way, you nod. “all you had to do was ask. you know that.”
you nod and pull him down to kiss you by the fingers you have twisted in his hair. he groans against you, moving his hand from your chin to your jaw, angling you just so. somewhere in the kiss, you murmur a soft, “seung, i want you,” and he groans a little, nodding against you. he pulls away and you chase after him, but he’s sitting up, moving lightning quick to get his boxers off, abandoned somewhere on the linoleum floor with everything else.
and then it hits you that you’re both completely bare. you lean back on your elbows, looking him over once more, though your focus lingers mostly on the skin newly revealed to you. his thighs are toned and sturdy, the skin plush, and while you’d love to stare at them a little bit more, your attention is quickly drawn to his dick. it’s big, the head an agitated red and leaking precum, and your mouth is watering at the thought of getting him in your position and giving him the best head of his life.
you actually start to move to do so, but heeseung anticipates it and moves quick, pressing you back into your mattress. his dark doe eyes are drowning in desire and you shudder under his gaze. he’s on you again instead, hips melded to yours in your nth kiss tonight. he’s got his weight rested on one elbow beside your head while his other arm is free to move around, his hand tracing from your shoulder, your chest, smoothing across your stomach.
his fingers eventually land on your thigh, curling into the soft inner flesh, and he hikes it up around his waist before dropping his hand to his cock. his lips trail from your lips to your neck and shoulders, nipping at the skin as he jerks himself off. you toss your head back against your pillows, whimpering at every little graze of his teeth against your skin.
but what’s really driving you crazy is the heat of him against you. the head of his cock bumps against your clit, this time with no fabric barrier separating them, and you’re not sure if heeseung is even meaning for the touch, but it has you feeling hot all over again, slick leaking out of you again. you’re getting impatient, heel pressing hard into his lower back and your fingernails biting into the flesh of his biceps.
“heeseung,” you whine out, canting your hips up against his; you hear him suck in a breath through clenched teeth, a hiss of air. “need you.”
he shivers against you, a teary whimper of “need you too” granted in return as he pulls his face from your neck so that he can watch you as he finally gets to what you’ve wanted since this whole thing started. on a short teasing streak, he taps the head of his cock against your clit and you whine, turning your head into your pillow and curling your fingers into his arms, which earns a laugh.
“stop playing,” you tell him, rolling your hips upwards and into him.
he hisses again and bites at his bottom lip, nodding. he slips from your clit to your entrance and even just the little shred of pressure you get has you wanting to moan out for him. but then he starts pressing in all the way, slipping into your cunt with ease and you are not prepared for just how full you feel. your back arches and he lets off a tempered moan, stifled through a lip bite. when he bottoms out, his hips flush with your own, you release a breath as you adjust to the size of him, which doesn’t take long.
“seung,” you drawl, grabbing his attention. “move please.”
and he does as you bid, pulling out before he thrusts back in. it takes a few moments for him to find a pace that works, but when he does, it’s perfect. his hips roll against yours delectably, the sounds of skin meeting skin and your shared moans filling the small dorm room. he’s shored up over you, one elbow pressed deep into the thin mattress holding him up, and when your eyes aren’t squeezed tight in ecstasy, you watch the way he bites his lip, furrows his eyebrows, shudders as you clench around him.
“god, you’re s’tight. feels so good,” he whimpers at one point, his head hanging over your own as he tries to keep a steady pace. his words are shattered, breaking off in the middle or slurred together, a verbal manifestation of how you physically feel.
one thrust hits that just right spot inside you and you can’t hold but moan loudly, back arching off the mattress and your head pressing into your pillows. heeseung inhales sharply above you as you clench tight around him and then, with you still keening, you feel him sit up, taking his warmth with him. his hands are on your hips seconds later and he’s angling you, doing everything in his power to replicate it again and again.
“fuck, i’ve wanted this for so long,” he says, one hand on your thigh and the other working deft fingers on your clit. he’s a quick learner it seems because all of it is coming together to whisk your orgasm closer, a wave of white heat washing over you. “saw you at my frat’s halloween party ‘nd thought you were so pretty. woulda come up t’you that night if i knew you felt this good.”
your breath hitches more than it has all night and you cant your hips upwards in an attempt to meet his thrusts. somewhere in the midst of your pleasure, you tell him you’re going to come and he nods fast, fingers going into overtime to get you there. that knot inside you winds up tight and then snaps like a rubber band stretched too thin, hot and fast. your pussy locks around his cock and then he’s there above you, bracing himself with his hand, to swallow the particularly sharp whine of his name you let out and any stray too-loud moans that might slip away and wake the neighbors (as if you haven’t already).
when your vision finally clears and your thighs stop trembling, his hips are still snapping into yours to seek his own release, pushing you into the territory of overstimulation, but any pain you have bleeds into pleasure until you can’t tell which is which; the only thoughts you can manage are that heeseung feels heavenly inside you that it’s almost blinding and you don’t know if you even really want him to stop.
but his hips begin to stutter, his cock twitching against your fluttering walls, and you faintly register that he’s about to pull out of you. blindly, your hand searches for any part of him to pull him back over you, legs locking around his waist. he protests, some flurry of words about how he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable (not a single one intelligible), while you whine and pull him towards you by his shoulder.
“wanna feel you, seung,” you say, a limp arm winding around him and inching him closer until your noses are brushing and you can feel his breath fanning across you, still smelling faintly of his alcohol from earlier. “don’t worry about it, ‘kay? y’said you’d do anything, so please. i wanna feel you s’bad.”
that seems to be enough to egg him on because he nods and you catch him in a messy kiss before he groans against your lips as he finally comes. he lands a few more sharp thrusts that have you whining, fucking his cum into you, before he finally falls still. his breath is hot on your shoulder as he recovers.
usually, once you’re done, your select partner of the night pulls out, maybe cleans you up, and then leaves. it’s been a while since you’ve had someone who wants to stay (at least, you hope heeseung wants to stay) and you’re not quite sure where to go from here. there hadn’t really been much discussion about where your relationship was going to lead after this, even with all of the lingering glances on campus and your impromptu study sessions at the library, so you’re worrying a little about what comes after.
stuck in your own head, you don’t even notice that heeseung has pulled his head from your shoulder and is looking at you until his thumb works your bottom lip out from beneath your teeth and then wipes away some of the sweat at your hairline. the furrow of his eyebrows carve deep lines into the space between them as he studies you, looking like an angel with the way the fairy lights strung up above him give him a faint golden halo.
“what’re you thinking about?” he asks softly, brushing his fingers across your cheek. it’s a wholly different energy than just a few minutes ago, but the change isn’t unwelcome.
you shrug, blinking up at him and reaching to push some of his hair out of his eyes, the strands matted to his forehead with sweat. “just wondering what we do now, i guess.”
heeseung’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles a little, his shoulders shaking with a breathy little laugh. you almost punch at his shoulder for laughing at you when he cranes his head down to kiss you gently, the first that isn’t rushed in some way. he nudges your nose with his when he pulls back just a little bit.
“can we worry about all the big stuff later?” he questions; you feel the words as much as you hear them, his lips barely brushing your own as he says them. “for now, how about we clean up first and then… i’m hungry. are you?”
it’s your turn to laugh, but you nod. you’re still a little drunk, your however many cups of jungle juice compared to his measly one whiskey.
“so we clean up and then go get taco bell? it’s, like, the only fast food place still open at this hour.”
“you do know that the line is gonna be insane, right? like, half of campus goes there after getting drunk.”
heeseung lets another quiet laugh loose and sits up, pulling you up with him and then into his lap, his dick still snug inside you. the feel of it doesn’t wind you up again like you thought it might, but it’s a nice reminder that he’s here, that this all actually happened. he rests a hand on your thigh and lets his thumb trace lines into the skin there absently.
“then i guess we’ll have time to talk about what you wanna do now,” he says sincerely, the smile on his face soft.
you have so many words you want to say, a million sentences tornadoing in your head right now, all jumbled up and lacking any sense of coherency. so instead, you cup his cheeks in your hands and return the kiss from just a few moments ago. he meets you halfway, all soft and pliant and giving, everything you could have dreamed up.
“wanna shower?” you ask when you pull away, giggling when he chases after you for another kiss. “feel like it might be a little more effective than a rag.”
the boy raises an eyebrow and eyes you suspiciously. “you tryin’ to go for a round two? because that’s what it sounds like right now.”
you push at his shoulders and laugh when he catches your wrists in his hands, pulling you into a third kiss. “wasn’t my intention, but i won’t turn down the idea.”
“i’ll think about it,” he responds as he taps at your hips and lifts you off of him. his seed starts to leak out with his cock no longer there to hold it in and you feel incomplete without him, but when he stands and offers you a hand to help you out of bed, suddenly the feeling of emptiness isn’t as oppressive.
you teeter across your room, opening the wardrobe to pull out the two towels you have and your shower caddy. heeseung accepts the towel you extend to him graciously, wrapping it around his waist. when you’re done securing your own towel, he’s already waiting for you by the door, one hand on the knob and the other reaching out towards you once you get close enough to him. and then you’re two people walking down the hall hand in hand, wrapped in matching pink towels towards the unisex bathroom. it’s a little unconventional, maybe, but you don’t think you’d have it any other way.
liv probably would though, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. heeseung’s your little secret after all.
© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.
#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung smut#heeseung smut#enhypen smut#kpop smut#writing.fic#smut.fic#stories.fic#heeseung.fic#enha.fic
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Hey hope you're doing ok with the recent bnha discourse?
Still holding out hope for shigaraki/tenko and good writing 👍👍
Can I ask you, if you ever find it kind of off-putting (like I do) when some bnha fans commit to the idea that Deku and the other younger heroes will be the ones to change their society for the better, after the villains are killed?
As if purely heroic methods were really capable of changing hero society, when the very best that the innocent people in bnha have done from their constant protectors, the heroes, is toss the hero kids a shirt and some dollar store med. Items??
(To say nothing of the government corruption that came to be under All-might's nose, that Deku and the other heroes haven't thought about once.)
And they honestly believe that's the best outcome...
It feels either very optimistic or unknowing at best, and completely ignorant at worst.
Do you think so or differently?
Oh yeah, no I totally get what you mean; it kinda looks like we’re on course for a lot to get worse actually. And it all comes back to how poorly they handled the villains; both their talking points, and their failure to save them.
We just have not been given any indication that the next gen are going to do anything better than their predecessors; they're ending their arcs side by side with them as equals and partners after all.
Rather than improving things, they're basically a carbon copy of the last generation; which I feel is exemplified in how the final battle of this war ending in a retread of Kamino. Except like I said, in some areas it feels like it'll just get worse. This retread of Kamino ending not in an arrest, but in a murder; something I find very worrying given Deku's status as the next symbol (which, despite all criticism of All Might in the same roll, Deku has become anyway) because of the impact that'd have on treatment of villains by the heroes Deku inspires. Add in their treatment of Machia & their support of Hawks' handling of Twice and it just doesn't look good. Oh and if that same crowd gets wind of his status as 'The Greatest Hero Who Saves By Putting You Out Of Your Misery' that'll be even more catastrophic. (Especially once the Singularity doomsday starts up for real.)
Meanwhile, what little progress has been made on a societal level is either purely for the heroes benefits, like the civilians acting more grateful to the heroes (and as you say, the results of that are pretty middling, amounting to first aid & a shirt); or else maybe baby steps in the right direction like Shoji's answer to the heteromorph plot. Baby steps they do not have time for, mind you. And even then, that's still a 'maybe' because Shoji's not actually planning anything different from normal hero activity: just be inspiring and hope people follow your example. Meanwhile everything else societal that brought us here, corruption in the system, poor treatment or handing of quirks, general prejudice; it's all just gone unaddressed.
Probably because the points with which they used to be addressed, the League, instead got their plot points changed to revolve around motives more personal, less serious, less justifiable, and more easily addressable by the kids. Y'know; Toga's plot used to be about society's treatment of the other but then was about her wanting love, Dabi's was about people in power abusing their power but then was about him wanting attention, and Shigaraki's was about the lie of hero society and the complacency of the people it inspired, but Deku couldn't do anything about that so instead it because about Tenko's hatred towards his house. But then Deku still couldn't do anything about that so instead it became about Tenko's self-hated. And then Deku still couldn't address that either all too well, really, so we instead got 'It was AFO All Along'; and that Deku could handle with trivial ease. What self-respecting All Might clone couldn't punch AFO?
To use a metaphor I think Tomura would appreciate; it's like they all turned on easy mode, and Deku especially turned on baby mode, and it feels like we're all going to get the bad ending as a result of them skipping so many side-quests, dialogue trees, or special objectives. Personally speaking, any hope I had in things turning around was based in how the villains would be handled, both a) because I expected how they were handled would reflect how their societal motives would be handled(i.e. how Deku saved Tenko would inform us of how he'd save other Tenkos), and b) because I expected they'd need the help and perspective.
Needless to say, I've not been left with much hope that things will turn around.
So yeah, right there with you hoping Tomura could somehow come back, partially because that's the only part of this ending that feels salvageable even by his long-shot odds. But boy is the rest a mess of unfortunate implications beneath the veneer of how "The Day is Saved"...Man, Deku really is an All Might clone.
#ask & reply#bnha#bnha 423#shigaraki tomura#shimura tenko#dabi#spinner#toga himiko#gigantomachia#twice#jin bubaigawara#paranormal liberation front#PLF#league of villains#lov#midoriya izuku#mezo shoji#all for one#all might#hero society#Boy I really let loose my thoughts with this one. Suppose I had some stuff to get off my chest still
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Shrue’s descent into radicalism and what the Silt Verses says about our world today
(also, regarding the giant poem that the episode titles make) ITS A TUMBLR ESSAY BABYYYYYYYYY
Kill your gods. Starve them out, topple their statues, forsake their comfort— Kill the stories that gave birth to them. Tear away your flesh that bears their marks. Adjudicator Shrue, Ep. 43
The Silt Verses is a story born of its time, to a 21st century world which is slowly decaying—and everyone in it is doing their part to help it decay just a little bit faster. It speaks of capitalism, of corruption, of power and belief and environmental destruction and the rift between generations. When Charles tells Val he can’t really stand behind the idea of a family (“You wonder about what kind of world we’re bringing children into, y’know?”) I had to pause and gather myself; it’s something we hear from so many Gen Z’ers today.
But then Shrue’s speech came, and it made no sense.
Shrue calls for an end in any form it can be given. They call for the loss of all faith and love and community in the world; they call for us to kill the stories of our history, to kill the figures we believe in and the ones that give us hope. Anything, everything, all we can give to stop the decay and degradation of the world. They demand us to defeat the corrupt system we have built by trading our lives to do so.
If our words and stories sustain them, let us fall silent. If our communities rely on them, let us drift apart and die, lonely, in the polluted wilds amongst the howling winds of long forgotten deities.
It made no sense because TSV, most simplistically, embodies “no ethical consumption under capitalism”—and this solidly did not fit. So I cast about for an answer to what it all meant, because TSV had grown to be more than the “folks, look where capitalism got us” which I thought it to be. And Shrue's “we can’t do anything to escape the system but die” was just too flat a conclusion.
Then I fell upon the poem compiled from each episode’s title.
It begins with the start of humanity: a story of things that have happened, things people have believed, things which have roamed the land from then til now.
Let me speak first of revelations, and next of dark deceit. Then I’ll speak of champions, of lovers, gods and beasts.
And so the poem continues in a description of this story, until it eventually twists to become entirely self-destructive around Chapters 18-24. It's a reference to how everything in the TSV universe seems to eat itself: their system of gods, sacrifices, even the characters themselves.
If I could trace with bloodless fingers, if my hands could shape the flow, I’d bear this song to the precipice and rend us both to dust below. We’d both go plunging downwards, one final fall from grace— I’d howl, I’d scream, in victory, and we’d be gone without a trace.
At Chapter 25, we get a respite from the story. We get a short poetic break which concludes that yes, we’re doomed to die—but we continue as we are despite it, and write our story even if it’ll be lost in the end. It’s a classic conclusion that a lot of literature and poetry fall to, because it’s so very human. It’s a cliche, and it’s a cliche for a reason.
But we’ll never be rid of each other, my song, my sorrow, and I, So I’ll bear it trembling onwards: to drift on, to dream, to die.
With that, the poem progresses forward until it starts addressing our end and what happens when we face that. It screams of last-ditch efforts keep on believing, even as we plunge down and down and the world just gets worse and worse. Shrue’s speech takes place in “One Last Song of Revelations” (the title is so fitting!), where they vocalize their realization that their pacifist attitude isn’t doing shit to change anything.
But when they switch towards radicalism because it’s, evidently, the only way anything will ever get done—the only way anything will get the exposure to maybe make an impact—they speak of the destruction of society as a whole. Not the eradication of capitalism, nor the installation of kinder gods, nor the lowering of sacrifice ceilings. They speak of true destruction. Utter destruction.
Shrue’s speech isn’t some call to action, nor does it embody any concrete ideology which the writers are trying to convey. It’s just an expression of desperation. Nothing is working; no one is listening.
What this poem sounds like is a story of how our world goes. It's its birth, its self-destruction, its philosophical revelations, its finale.
When we began following Carpenter and Faulkner in the reeds of the White Gull River, we were consuming a commentary on capitalism. Now, it’s more. It’s a commentary, yes, but it’s not only that—it’s an exploration. The Silt Verses is a tragic exploration of our world as it connects to theirs, of how we’ve been driven so far and been corrupted so deeply that only radicalism makes a difference because only radicalism is what gets the notice and attention to spark moderate change. And that same radicalism is going to destroy the society we have left.
But it’s all the same in the end, because society's collapse was going to happen anyways. So at least someone had it in them to fight for something.
GAHHHH I LOVE THIS SHOW
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Sorry ig in advance since you get questions a lot but got curious about a few things
1. Is it normal for pwASPD to view unbeneficial relationships as chores? I know I, a likely prosocial, when I don't see the benefit in a relationship, I have to view it as being a chore to continue it.
2. If a connection is established between harming others and being harmed, will a pwASPD, for lack of a better term, be able to mimic empathy or remorse?
3. Do you know if pwASPD and another comorbid disorder, if the other disorder causes already low or fragile self esteem (like another cluster B), can seem like they don't have ASPD?
These are mostly for project research but also out of curiosity because I can
Nothing to be sorry for!!/gen
1.) Oh yes. So very, very much yes. And honestly, it's even worse than a chore - more like if a dead-end job decided to stop paying you but you'd go to jail if you quit. If you've ever seen a kid stuck dress shopping with their mother on TV, that's the way I would like to act through every single interaction with an equal part useless and annoying but unavoidable prosocial irl. Every single non-Exception prosocial is that coworker you hate who won't leave you alone./hj Joking aside, not all prosocials are actually that annoying actually. So it kind of depends; sometimes it's fine at least for me.
2.) Yeah, I'd say so. This goes differently for all of us, but for the most part "connection formed" would probably go in the direction of an Exception, and that's where some symptoms of ASPD are lessened for those of us that have them. That includes often having some degree of effective empathy and/or a desire to work on cognitive empathy with them in particular (I use them as practice to make the necessary use of cognitive empathy less annoying with non-Exceptions). Ditto with remorse for some pwASPD, though for me in particular that depends on the Exception in question. Some still do not bring out remorse in me for whatever reason. This is a good place to note that actually, since I don't think I've mentioned this elsewhere. Exceptions do not all have to be the same even for the same pwASPD. Two friends may have different symptoms they alleviate vs don't affect vs worsen, and of course platonic vs sexual vs romantic Exceptions often vary in that as well. For me and a few other pwASPD I've met, this may also occur with some groups of people who aren't Exceptions but cause an Exception-esque response. For me, kids get that as most do other people struggling with mental health disorders beyond just depression and anxiety (nothing easy about those two it's just in our current world most people have those). If I hurt a kid's feelings, 25/10 times I am going to cry with them or force myself not to. And that will vary for each pwASPD based on how much social neurological development was completed before it was fundamentally changed and started developing antisocially too. Some of us have more empathy than others, or more remorse than others (and vice versa) in general, so that'll impact those situations too.
3.) So this depends on what you define as "seem like they don't have ASPD", though it won't be self-esteem that affects that. Generally I'd point that more in the direction of NPD. But yeah, looking at the symptoms of ASPD, there are a few specific disorders that cause someone who very much has ASPD to not be diagnosed and/or believed both professionally and personally. In personal relationships, it's honestly just not being a serial k*ller that will get most to think you don't have it. Professionally, you're looking at disorders that cause social problems (such as autism, SAD - social anxiety, and GAD - generalized anxiety), impulse control (ADHD mostly), emotional instability (bipolar disorder, IED - intermittent explosive, ODD - oppositional defiance, and yeah your other cluster b PDs). There are others that make a whole lot less sense imo to get in the way of an ASPD diagnosis too. Schizophrenia comes to mind, with some professionals thinking that it's just... so many episodes of psychosis that it starts to look like ASPD which, don't even get me started on how much of a medical failure it is that I have heard of that specific thing happening. But mostly, it's going to be the ones I listed previously. None of these are mutually exclusive with ASPD, but they have symptoms that overlap with or mimic ASPD's, and so you'll have genuinely good professionals who are trying to avoid over/misdiagnosis where it applies to a *very* stigmatized disorder, and you'll have lazy ones that don't care to try and pick out which it is if not both. That will all just depend on the pwASPD's presentation of symptoms. I had more than one professional refuse to believe I had ASPD, and my (very lovely and dilligent/gen) psychiatrist was also leaning to just diagnose autism until I said some line about the reason I try for social interaction not being because I want to but because everyone has to to be able to get what they need in life. Once she realized I see it as an irritating requirement to associate with other people - even ones I kind of like - she quickly turned on that and diagnosed both. That's why it's important to speak openly and with as much of the mask removed as possible without getting yourself in trouble. They will try and avoid labelling you with something like this unless they are 1000% sure because of its connotations and the social and professional implications of having ASPD. It is very possible to pick out which is which or if it's more than one with overlap in regards to any set of comorbidities even outside of ASPD, but it takes a lot of work for that to be done properly especially if you're still masking in front of them.
I have no issue with anyone asking just out of curiosity by the way. Seriously like I guess I see why some people feel weird about it, but genuine interest is the reason why disorders get looked into, researched, and potentially normalized and accepted. There is nothing wrong with being interested in any topic as long as you're respectful in your interactions with sensitive subjects, and this ask was completely respectful, so I'm happy to answer it./gen
Plain text below the cut:
Nothing to be sorry for!!/gen
1.) Oh yes. So very, very much yes. And honestly, it's even worse than a chore - more like if a dead-end job decided to stop paying you but you'd go to jail if you quit. If you've ever seen a kid stuck dress shopping with their mother on TV, that's the way I would like to act through every single interaction with an equal part useless and annoying but unavoidable prosocial irl. Every single non-Exception prosocial is that coworker you hate who won't leave you alone./hj Joking aside, not all prosocials are actually that annoying actually. So it kind of depends; sometimes it's fine at least for me.
2.) Yeah, I'd say so. This goes differently for all of us, but for the most part "connection formed" would probably go in the direction of an Exception, and that's where some symptoms of ASPD are lessened for those of us that have them. That includes often having some degree of effective empathy and/or a desire to work on cognitive empathy with them in particular (I use them as practice to make the necessary use of cognitive empathy less annoying with non-Exceptions). Ditto with remorse for some pwASPD, though for me in particular that depends on the Exception in question. Some still do not bring out remorse in me for whatever reason. This is a good place to note that actually, since I don't think I've mentioned this elsewhere. Exceptions do not all have to be the same even for the same pwASPD. Two friends may have different symptoms they alleviate vs don't affect vs worsen, and of course platonic vs sexual vs romantic Exceptions often vary in that as well. For me and a few other pwASPD I've met, this may also occur with some groups of people who aren't Exceptions but cause an Exception-esque response. For me, kids get that as most do other people struggling with mental health disorders beyond just depression and anxiety (nothing easy about those two it's just in our current world most people have those). If I hurt a kid's feelings, 25/10 times I am going to cry with them or force myself not to. And that will vary for each pwASPD based on how much social neurological development was completed before it was fundamentally changed and started developing antisocially too. Some of us have more empathy than others, or more remorse than others (and vice versa) in general, so that'll impact those situations too.
3.) So this depends on what you define as "seem like they don't have ASPD", though it won't be self-esteem that affects that. Generally I'd point that more in the direction of NPD. But yeah, looking at the symptoms of ASPD, there are a few specific disorders that cause someone who very much has ASPD to not be diagnosed and/or believed both professionally and personally. In personal relationships, it's honestly just not being a serial k*ller that will get most to think you don't have it. Professionally, you're looking at disorders that cause social problems (such as autism, SAD - social anxiety, and GAD - generalized anxiety), impulse control (ADHD mostly), emotional instability (bipolar disorder, IED - intermittent explosive, ODD - oppositional defiance, and yeah your other cluster b PDs).
There are others that make a whole lot less sense imo to get in the way of an ASPD diagnosis too. Schizophrenia comes to mind, with some professionals thinking that it's just... so many episodes of psychosis that it starts to look like ASPD which, don't even get me started on how much of a medical failure it is that I have heard of that specific thing happening. But mostly, it's going to be the ones I listed previously. None of these are mutually exclusive with ASPD, but they have symptoms that overlap with or mimic ASPD's, and so you'll have genuinely good professionals who are trying to avoid over/misdiagnosis where it applies to a very stigmatized disorder, and you'll have lazy ones that don't care to try and pick out which it is if not both. That will all just depend on the pwASPD's presentation of symptoms. I had more than one professional refuse to believe I had ASPD, and my (very lovely and dilligent/gen) psychiatrist was also leaning to just diagnose autism until I said some line about the reason I try for social interaction not being because I want to but because everyone has to to be able to get what they need in life. Once she realized I see it as an irritating requirement to associate with other people - even ones I kind of like - she quickly turned on that and diagnosed both. That's why it's important to speak openly and with as much of the mask removed as possible without getting yourself in trouble. They will try and avoid labelling you with something like this unless they are 1000% sure because of its connotations and the social and professional implications of having ASPD. It is very possible to pick out which is which or if it's more than one with overlap in regards to any set of comorbidities even outside of ASPD, but it takes a lot of work for that to be done properly especially if you're still masking in front of them.
I have no issue with anyone asking just out of curiosity by the way. Seriously like I guess I see why some people feel weird about it, but genuine interest is the reason why disorders get looked into, researched, and potentially normalized and accepted. There is nothing wrong with being interested in any topic as long as you're respectful in your interactions with sensitive subjects, and this ask was completely respectful, so I'm happy to answer it./gen
#is the culture unmasked?#who knows?#tw sex mention#aspd-culture-is#aspd culture is#aspd culture#actually aspd#aspd#aspd awareness#actually antisocial#antisocial personality disorder#aspd traits#anons welcome
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ok ok slightly feral post as promised.
first, some context setting: I think it's really interesting to analyse texts in terms of both what the author was trying to do (and whether they succeeded) and what they ended up doing (intentionally or not) and I think their cultural/historical context is vital if you want to do this. I'm not interested in whether Robert Jordan or the Wheel of Time are, like, morally correct in their politics or whatever. I'm interested in what the art is trying to do.
and the thing about Jordan, see, is that he projected this image during his lifetime of a Genial Older Man (see: beard and pipe) but he...wasn't actually that old! He was 42 when EoTW was published. He died at 58. He was a Baby Boomer publishing books at a time when Baby Boomers were the hip young generation taking over from stodgy WWII veterans (Gen Z: It Will Happen To You Too).
What this means is that he was a child and adolescent during the Civil Rights movement, in a then-majority Black city in the Jim Crow South*. He would have gone to segregated schools. The tertiary institutions he attended had only started to desegregate a year or two before he attended each of them. I think his war trauma in Vietnam gets a lot of attention because he did talk about it and also because that's a narrative we understand for white men, but I think we...skim over the impact on white men of growing up at this time because? Civil Rights only happened to Black Americans I guess? but it's his context too. Similarly, he was an adolescent and young man at the time the (white) feminist movement was really kicking off in the US. he was in his mid-20s when banks were first legally *required* to allow women to open accounts and have credit cards in their own names. he went on to marry a woman a decade older than him, who had left her husband to raise her son as a single mother while continuing a professional career in the early 70s; these were issues that must have been incredibly relevant for her.
and what we see in his writing is attempts to grapple with gender and race that are self-evidently of mixed success, but I think have to be contextualised in light of this period of immense change he grew up in. Think about the predominance of women as merchants and bankers in WoT, in the context of how recent their rights to even control their own money were in the US. The...everything...he was trying to do with the Seanchan, making them extra-canonically Southern American-coded. The Whitecloaks as the KKK (among other things, of course).
As an example, I think there's also something probably unintentional but fascinating in the way he presents the pre-Breaking Aiel: bluntly, they are a distinct ethnic group in hereditary servitude (always thinking about how that ancestor of Rand's in the Rhuidean sequence had to get permission from Mierin Sedai to switch to someone else's service so he could marry his girlfriend, this is...uh...super cognate to issues enslaved Black people faced). They're associated with agriculture through the Song sequence. And they're pretty much the ideal of what slave-owning Southern American culture WANTED enslaved Black people to be: completely happy to serve. Then, as the post-breaking Aiel, they become feared as a source of violence, which resonates with the way that enslaved people were feared by their slavers.
I don't think for a second that the intention here was to depict the AoL as a Secret Slavery Dystopia, I think we're meant to take the Rhuidean flashback sections pretty much as they read on the page. But I also think putting Jordan in his historical and cultural context does pose the comparison. Similarly, I find it really interesting that he positions Seanchan as riven by constant revolts and uprisings (because it's a fascist slaver regime) but he never ever goes so far as to link enslaved people in Seanchan (damane and da'covale) to those revolts and uprisings, even though that is fundamentally the deep fear *for real and obvious reasons* of all slavery-based societies.
Or then there's the changes to the Two Rivers in the books - like, both then and now I think it's actually pretty radical to present an influx of Muslim-coded refugees of colour as a thing that enriches the Two Rivers both socially and economically. Various characters are wistful that it's changed, but they don't think it's bad. The text here is really clear that welcoming the Domani and Almoth Plain refugees is both morally right and beneficial. And this is in a book being written and published shortly after the first Gulf War.
There's so many more things like this where I just have no real idea what he was trying to do on purpose and what was accidental and what was fun for him in fiction but did not necessarily link at all to his real-world political beliefs. but gosh it's interesting to turn over and poke at.
#wheel of time#wot book spoilers#robert jordan#and then there's things like...IIRC some stuff about Gareth Bryne is referencing General Lee#and I know a lot of you are Bryne haters but the point here is not#that that means Bryne is bad#it's: how hard was RJ thinking about that and why did he do it at all?
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Farewell to the pink generation, part 3 - Check out some of Pene's books
Previous / Next Beginning (Gen 7)
Image transcripts:
— No, wait, there’s something appearing over there… is that… me?? I get it… I guess this is where it all began, isn’t it? I was always so full of dreams, ever since I was a toddler, creating worlds through drawings. And in childhood, that’s when I really started expressing myself through words, and not even the bullying I faced at school could erase who I was. That’s why, to preserve that, I ended up creating Cayden…
— Oh my God… Ash, you look so young in this vision, I forgot the baby face you used to have hehe… Of course, there would be this phase too, after all, you were my first and only love… You were also the inspiration for my books; did you know that this was when I started creating longer stories? And they always revolved around a teenage romance full of clichés hahaha you were so important not just for my writing development, but in my life overall. You’ve always been very important to me.
— And even when I did everything to push you away, you held on to me with all your might and never let me go… But you want to know a secret? Even if it was you telling me to leave, I would never have gone… — Penelope glanced briefly at the vision. — It’s a time I don’t like to remember for many reasons, but I can’t erase the importance it had in all our lives. After all, even after everything, we’re all still together.
— And of course, how could I forget them? Claire and Brendon… My original script was about a love that overcame everything, and in the end, they were supposed to be together, of course. But I wrote that tragic romance back in college, and since my life and my feelings were such a mess, I couldn’t give you both a proper ending… I’m sorry…
— Actually, I did try a few times, that’s why there was a time when I wrote several books with you two as the main characters, but the ending was always the same… That really frustrated me, to be honest. I thought it was just about thinking of a scenario, a situation, the words, and writing them down, but it’s much deeper than that. My mood directly impacts my creations, and because of that, I kept torturing you both.
— But of course, not everything was just misery hahaha, Ash and I had a really good time together, actually. It was also when I stepped away a bit from Brandon and Claire and started writing some short stories about our trip to Sulani and our moments together. Everything was going so well, and I even thought I might finally live the romance I had always dreamed of.
— But my next story says a lot about what happened next… The writer’s block continued, and I also lost him again…
#the sims 4#família vilela#not so berry challenge#ts4 gameplay#ts4 legacy#ts4 screenshots#simblr#sims 4 simblr#ts4#sims 4#nsb peach#gen 7#nsb pink
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Batfic - "Join the Club" (9/9)
Category: Gen
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Characters/Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd & Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Jason Todd is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is the founder and president for life of the Dick Grayson Fan Club, Banter, Humor, Sibling Bonding, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Tim Drake, (i mean legally they're not related here but that's still the vibe), a tiny bit of angst and insecurity for flavor, Tim Drake Joins the Batfamily Early, (sort of. emotionally speaking.), Rated T mostly because I let the Batkids swear, But also, Canon-Typical Violence, (or at least the aftermath thereof. also canon-typical fast and loose medical accuracy), Happy Ending
Summary:
The obnoxious questions were also his new normal since coming to live with Bruce, along with the staring and whispers. The upside was that they were repeated enough that he had scripted answers for pretty much everything, no matter how inane or invasive it was. “Just…” Tim started slowly and then finished his question in a breathless, excited rush. “You know Dick Grayson, right?” Which. What. In which Jason Todd meets Tim Drake, who is inexplicably Dick Grayson's #1 Fan, and decides the only reasonable course of action is to plot to get the two of them to meet and see what happens. It definitely won't have a major impact on his life or anything.
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hello asdfgsjdldkl this is a half fluffy half spicy request, how would you feel about writing a fem/gn mc who is autistic, but here’s the twist (lol)—their special interest is kink/bdsm? maybe they’re a bit shy about it at first since it’s not exactly something you just TALK about but one day they somehow end up infodumping? with Lilia, Idia, Vil, and Malleus, if that’s okay? (bonus points for mc being a sub ghjkslahsksl) (also if you’re not sure about how to write an autistic mc that’s totally fine, thank you for your service /gen ajshsjskdkl)
I tried to write this based on how my ADHD brain works with my special interests, so I hope this isn't as terrible lol also since you didn't say which kinks you'd like to see, I kept them a little bit more on the generalized side. If you'd like something more specific you can request again. Anyways thank you kindly for this lovely request, I had lots of fun writing it /gen <3
Synopsis: the boys are very intriguided to know about your secret special interest~ Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge Tags: NSFW, smut with context, bondage play, master/servant, power play, spanking/impact play Notes: gender neutral reader (unspecified body parts), everyone is 18+, excuse any grammatical errors,,,
•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Vil looks down on you with an amused expression as you moan and buck your hips up, searching for the friction you so desesperately need from his hands. You were pressed against the couch with your wrists firmly tied up on your back and your legs held apart by the leather belts, your dripping arousal entirely exposed and unable to wiggle too much, keeping you on the edge of your climax as you relied on Vil's painfully slow and light touches. It all started from one of Vil's fashion jobs. Being one of Twisted Wonderland's most beloved supermodels, he was offered to take a catwalk under the name of a high-end brand trying to test a new niche of clothing and creative display: a mix of kinky props and everyday clothing, with emphasis on office attire.
Vil looks absolutely dazzling on his violet blue formal shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows to expose the shoulder-lenght latex gloves. A black leather chest harness hugs his figure perfectly, highlighting his curves and accentuating his proportions, his clothing, paired with the sensual makeup, gave him a rather imposing, bossy feel - the perfect face of a dangerous temptation, especially for you.
So much you can't help but unload all the little details about harness fashion you know about, about how they can be used to better pick on certain body parts, how they can be used for bondage and how you would love to try some on-
"Hush now, my precious nightingale. I love it when you sing for me like that, but…" He coos softly, his breath tickling against the hot skin of your cheek as his fingers came to press against your lips, gently nudging them open; a taunt and a promise of something more to come. "…I would hate it if the agency's staff came into my dressing room to find you like this."
Your eyes widen, suddenly remebering that anybody could walk in on any second, curious about the amount of noise coming out of Vil's room. As you slowly part your lips to welcome his gloved fingers, you hear a low chuckle of satisfaction coming. "Good puppy," Vil's whisper melts on your ears like dripping honey as his fingers make their way between uour teeth, playing with your tongue. "You deserve a reward for being so well behaved."
"Y-you feel so g-good, darling…" Idia groans in contentment before slamming his cock deep inside you once more. A shaky, devilish laugh rolls off his tongue as he watches the way you struggle to keep you hand steady, trying your best to pour some tea without allowing even the tiniest drop to stain the sheets.
Idia was the one trying to suggest new things for you two to try out - on his own nerdy, embarrassed ways. He was too scared to openly admit his kinks, thinking that maybe you could find him a weirdo, so he would casually comment about something like he was just talking about the news, or even pointing out something unusual on a character from some anime.
However, Idia soon discovered about the hype of cat maid cafés, and as he 'innocently' showed you some of the recipes and how you could pick your maid's personality, he was surprised to see how it had sparked your interest, his face going alight as you passionately unravel about your love for cute maid outfits and how you do own one. Idia wasn't one to make bold moves, but that was just too good of an opportunity to let it slip away from his fingers, so he lightly suggests to see you with it…
And now you found yourself full-on roleplaying. Taking in the role of a humble, diligent maid to your master, you faced multiple challenges as Idia reveled on your misery, trying to keep yourself composed while serving him.
Idia's fingernails dig on your hips, pulling down on the black skirt as he bucks up against you, low gasps leaving his lips. You need to bite down on your lips to contain a curse, holding onto the teacup between your hands for dear life. "So cute and obedient…" You shiver at his praise, his voice laced with dark desire, pushing you down on his lap.
You are surprised by his hand possessively wrapping around your chin, forcing your face to turn to him. Before you can mouth any sound, he captures your lips, making your grip finally falter, droplets of tea splasing over Idia's legs.
"Oh no, seems like you've made a mess… better clean it up quick if you don't wanna be punished, huh?" He smirks with mischief, his pointy teeth grazing over your shoulder threateningly.
You shudder in antecipation under Malleus' firm grip around the back of your neck, pushing your face down into the sheets. His throaty growl lingers over your body, leaving goosebumps under your skin. "Mine," Malleus rasps, his teeth sinking down on your back, leaving behind a perfect mark. "And I'll make sure everyone knows who you belong to." Malleus is very curious regarding everything that involves human nature, entertained by even the simplest of things. It wasn't uncommon to find him nose deep inside books, drinking in the particularities of the ones so exquisite for his fae standards.
While spending the afternoon with you in Ramshackle Dorm, quietly fidgeting through your phones and simply enjoying each other's company, he accidentally looked over your smartphone right in time to catch you scrolling down on a Magicam post about 'power play'. His interest is immediately piqued, intrigued by whatever it meant; Malleus points it out, interested to know more about it, and as you eagerly explains what it means, Malleus nods and hums in understanding, his mind working out on this new discovery.
"That's a very exquisite concept. Tell me, Child of Man, would you be willing to give me a practical demonstration on the matter? I'm certain I could understand it better this way."
You tried to keep Malleus pinned down on the bed, your hands firmly wrapping around his wrists to keep him still. Your attempt in dominance only the Fae Prince, who effortlessly turned you to lay on your belly, restraining you by the arms. "Looks like I am the winner of this little dispute. Shall I indulge in my prize now?"
"Easy now, sugar bat. If you tense up too much, it will hurt even more." A low chuckle rolls off Lilia's tongue, mischief mixed with tenderness etched on his cherry-coloured eyes. The paddle on his hand slowly runs over your warmed thighs, the sensitive skin shivering and squirming under the rough leather feel, teasing and threatening to strike once more.
"Back in my day, those devices were used as torture tools to coax prisoners into talking about their secrets. Now, they are used in intimate rendezvous to give pleasure induced by pain." Lilia giggles, an innocent smile gracing his lips - a very fake one. The glint on his eyes suggesting some sly, hidden interest, like he wasn't just silently reading the fanfiction you were writing on your phone.
"So, you're interested on the complexities of pain and pleasure, huh? Would you like to indulge in a demonstration? I'll be more than happy to lead you into this forbidden experience, my dear." How could you deny such a confident, tantalizing suggestion? You knew a lot about the theoretical thing, having read a lot about fiction or even health-related articles about BDSM and impact play. Despite being shy about it, you knew you could trust Lilia.
"You're doing very well, sweetheart," Lilia's whisper is sweet and reassuring as his fingers gently thread between your locks, a soothing gesture in contrast to the dry impact of the paddle against your buttcheeks, marking the skin with a pinkish colour. The leather leaves a stinging sensation, making you gasp and squirm over Lilia's lap. He leans in to press a soft kiss on your forehead, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Only ten more to go."
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