#those two are the most common on this list

[derinwrites]

Do you have any advice for writing in a web serial format?

Let���s look at this in two sections – the business part, and the actual writing part.

The Business Part

1. Consistency. Consistency in updates. Have a schedule and STICK TO IT.

If your schedule is too hectic and starts affecting your health or otherwise adversely affecting your life, change the schedule; update less often. Don’t update in spurts and then randomly stop. The audience will far more easily tolerate a slow schedule than an inconsistent one; an inconsistent one will lose many readers. You’re not Andrew Hussie and you can’t get away with that bullshit.

There may be times where you need to take a hiatus due to some emergency, life event, or health condition. This is fine – your wellbeing is more important than your story. But you need to be up-front with your audience about this; tell them you’re taking a hiatus and tell them exactly how long it’s going to be. If you can, you should tell them in advance (this isn’t possible for things like a car accident, but is very possible if you’re planning to, say, move house in a month). If you’re taking too many hiatuses, then it’s better to slow down your schedule and update less often. Audiences prefer fast and consistent, but if they have to choose, slow is better than inconsistent.

The #1 helper to consistency is having a big buffer – that is, have several weeks’ worth of unpublished chapters. The length of your buffer is personal taste, but I like to keep mine as long as possible so that if there’s some problem that stops me from writing for several weeks, it won’t upset the schedule. It keeps my stress down to know that I have that leeway. Other writers prefer to only write a week or two ahead, though, so different things work for different people.

2. Decide on your monetisation system early and prioritise it.

The most popular and most effective method for monetising a web serial seems to be the patronage method, which is the one I use. You set up a patreon, ko-fi, or whatever sponsorship system you prefer, and offer rewards to those who support you. Having their names in a credit list and getting access to advance chapters are very common rewards. Some people also lock access to their discord behind a paywall, or offer extra stories or let supporters name story characters.

This model is not the only way to make money from web serials. Some people make money via advertising, or selling merchandise, or use the web serial itself to advertise stories that they sell. You can of course use several revenue streams – you can have both a patreon/ko-fi and run ads on your website (I don’t because I hate ads, but you can), or start selling merch related to your story once there’s a demand for it. Many web serial authors (including myself) sell their completed works as books. But the important thing here is that one of these systems will be your main system, and you need to know what it is and behave accordingly. If you run ads AND have a patreon, are you more focused on ad revenue or patreon revenue? You’re going to have to put your time and attention into one of them over the other. You’re going to have to make decisions that will help one and harm the other. So know in advance which one is most important to you.

You don’t have to monetise your story at all, of course. Plenty of people write fiction on the internet for free every day with no thought to making an income at all. But if you’re serious about this, I would recommend monetising it, because that makes a better and more consistent product. The reason I’m still able to keep writing these year after year is that my supporters pay my mortgage; without Patreon and ko-fi, I’d have to get a different job, and wouldn’t have time or energy to write consistently. Also, the reason I can write and update even when I don’t feel like it, and the reason I always push to make my stories as good as possible even when I’m not interested, is because I owe it to my supporters who are paying me real actual money to read my work. If I didn’t owe my readers anything, none of these stories would ever get finished, because writing is only fun about half of the time.

3. Don’t expect to be able to turn this into a career.

This advice sounds silly coming from me, who has through sheer luck, as well as the generosity and passion of my readers, somehow turned this into a career. But I need to emphasise that that luck is not typical. Most web serial writers will not be able to support themselves solely with their writing. It can make a good side hustle, but if your primary goal is “low barrier to entry work-from-home career where I don’t have to answer to a boss and can support myself comfortably,” then web serial writing is usually all of those things except the last one. There’s no harm in trying to turn this into a career – I did it, as have many other web serial authors – but don’t expect that result, is all I’m saying.

Still, if you can do it, it does have a lot of advantages.

4. Don’t expect to make money fast.

I remember when I finally started making an entire $100/month on Patreon. It was a fantastic day.

It was when I’d been writing web serials for four years.

5. Your most valuable resource is your readership.

Your readership will grow and gather momentum over time. The best business decisions you can make are those that grow your readership and allow your readers to participate in community, even if you have to give up opportunities to make money to do it.

A good example of this is discord. Some people have private discords that only their patrons can access; while this is a useful anti-spam and anti-harassment tool, I don’t recommend doing this if you don’t have a major spam or harassment problem. Some people will pay for discord access, yes, so you might get a handful of extra dollars per month that way – however, you will also get a far less active discord. When it comes to readers, population density is critically important; the more activity, the more people talking about your work together (or talking about anything and bonding with each other), the better. Plenty of people have joined my free discord just because it was there and only read my stories after seeing people talk about them there. Then they go and get their friends to read the stories. Enthusiastic readers are inherently valuable, and the best thing you can do is give them the resources they need to talk to each other and share their interest.

This principle applies to a lot of things. I have a lot of free stories on my website that aren’t the usual web serials, and more than once I’ve considered whether they should be paywalled. The answer I always land on is ‘no’; I couldn’t tell you how many readers have been roped into my web serials because they liked Copy <|> Paste, or The Void Princess, or Drops of Blood. These readers may or may not then become monetary supporters, but even the ones who don’t will increase activity and discussion about the stories, have fun and tell jokes in the discord, and may even produce fanart. A thriving community is always going to be more valuable to you than a few extra dollars; make sure to support them accordingly.

Your readership will start very small. In terms of marketing, this is your hardest time. A big readership does the majority of the marketing for you, but when you’re on your own, it takes a lot to convince anyone to give your stories a shot. It helps if you have an existing readership to leverage, which is what I did – I’d been writing Animorphs fanfiction on AO3 for years, and many of my first readers followed me over from there. If you have such a community that already has faith in your writing, leverage it. If you don’t, you can gain one my writing in a place where people go to read stories similar to your work, such as an appropriate subreddit, or a web serial site like Royal Road or Scribblehub. You are looking to gain as high a number of enthusiastic, engaged readers as possible.

And now, the fun part – the actual craft!

The Writing Part

1. Always remember that you are writing for two audiences

A web serial author has to keep two audiences in mind; the serial readers, and the bingers. You are writing a story that needs to be fun and engaging when read very slowly, at the pace of whatever your update schedule is, but that also needs to be interesting when read all at once.

This is not an easy task.

It’s something I fucked up pretty significantly with Curse Words, which was my first attempt at this. Curse Words has a lot of complicated political stuff happening throughout pretty much the whole story, as well as a complex save-the-world plot that’s reliant on a lot of secrets, mysteries and extremely speculative information. With so many wheels spinning, I decided to make the protagonist not particularly smart and move him very slowly through the plot to make sure that the reader would be able to keep up.

This was a mistake.

‘Pretty slow and simple’ at a novel reader’s pace is torturous at a web serial pace. Readers got a full week to discuss the mysteries and implications of each chapter with each other, doing the detective work of ten chapters between each one. The frustration with Kayden’s slow pace was clear, and he came across as an outright idiot rather than an average teen. Personally, I think this lesson was one of the biggest reasons for the difference in quality between Curse Words and Time to Orbit. Don’t slow down for your audience; they’re already slowed down by your update schedule.

At the same time, though, you don’t want to move so fast that you lose the bingers. You can’t assume that your readers will have time between chapters, or that they will discuss each chapter with other readers, or that they will go back over previous chapters looking for clues. Interested people reading update by update will do this, but bingers absolutely will not. So you still need to make sure that everything is comprehensible on a binge read with no backchecking or outside investigation.

My advice on this matter is to move as fast as possible, but take care to make sure that readers are reminded of everything important a few chapters before it comes into play. That way, both audiences can keep up. If you have to make a decision, it’s best to favour your update readers; they’re your most active community. They’re doing the up-to-date discussion, and probably doing the most word-of-mouth and fanart, although binge readers will do that too (I have plenty of dedicated readers who wait five or six weeks to binge a bunch of chapters on purpose, just because that’s their preferred reading style, and they’re still very engaged). But if you plan to publish your story later as a complete work, you also need to keep in mind how it’s going to read as a binge – and also, new readers will binge the earlier chapters of your story to catch up to the current one, so make sure it’s a good experience for them or they won’t get a chance to become update readers.

Two audiences. Mind your pacing and information reveals accordingly.

2. Chapter length

The general rule of web serials is that the more often you update, the shorter your chapters should be. The generally agreed ‘sweet spot’ is 1-1.5k words, 3 times a week, but this depends heavily on individual style. I update once or twice a week (depending on what stories I’ve got going) and try to keep my chapters between 2 and 2.5k words. If you update once a month, your sweet spot is probably about 10k words.

Don’t hold religiously to what other people tell you the ideal word count is – this will vary drastically with genre and personal style – but it’s best to try to stay fairly consistent. It’s not always possible to stay exactly on target because the best break points between chapters will vary (I’ve got 1.8k chapters and 3.5k chapters), but readers like to be able to predict about how long an update will be and they like it to not vary too wildly too often. As with choosing your update schedule, choosing your chapter length will depend on what suits your personal schedule, and what suits the story you’re writing.

“The shorter the chapter, the more frequent the updates” is a good rule for attracting the widest audience. Short, infrequent chapters will have a lot of readers losing interest between updates; long, frequent ones will have a lot of readers feeling overwhelmed. But the most important thing is finding something that you can consistently output year after year (remember, it took me 4 years to make $100/month; this is a long game).

3. It’s a TV show, not a movie

This advice is less useful in our age of Marvel movie franchises and made-to-binge Netflix series, so pretend I’m talking to you in the year 2010 or earlier. If a novel is a movie, a web serial is a TV show. What I mean by that is that a novel is shaped primarily as a complete experience, whereas a web serial is shaped as a chapter-by-chapter experience.

It’s best, in both cases, to have a well structures and paced story that is made of well structured and paced chapters. But sometimes you have to choose between the structure or a chapter and the structure of the story as a whole; making one better will cheapen the other. When you’re writing a novel, you should choose the structure of the whole, but when you’re writing a web serial, you should choose the structure of the chapter. Web serial readers will prefer a chained series of excellent chapters, over a beautiful story of chapters with mediocre individual structure.

In fact, whether you want a structure to the overall story at all is personal taste. My stories have strong overall structure and move towards a planned conclusion because that’s how I prefer to write (and it also makes the story bingeable, since it’s basically a novel being released really slowly), but plenty of web serials out there have no real planned ending and will wander about for years and years in no obviously consistent direction, occasionally throwing in a big twist or major change to freshen things up. These would make absolutely horrible novels, but make very popular web serials. Whether you write like me or like them, the rule is the same – the experience of each individual chapter takes priority.

Come to think of it, this might be why people call my stories “ADHD crack”…

4. Okay, so how do I structure a good chapter?

I generally try to do three things in every chapter.

- Hit the ground running

- Give them something new

- End on an open question

Hit the ground running – Unless it’s the very first chapter of the story, you don’t have to be coy getting into the action. Open the chapter as if it’s the middle of the chapter; start at full momentum. Catch the high point of the last chapter before it falls. It your last chapter ended with “We checked the fingerprints on the candlestick. It’s Colonel Mustard.” then you can start this one with “But he was in the library at the time!”, you don’t need to recap or slow down or anything.

Give them something new – Every chapter should give the reader at least one thing to talk and think about. A new choice, some new information, a shift in perspective, whatever. People are reading these updates one at a time so it is vital that they feel like they got something out of the experience. A chapter in which nothing is learned will make readers feel like their time was wasted, and they have all the time until next update to reflect on that.

This is also true of a novel, but it’s much more critical in a web serial. A novel with nothing chapters in it is just frustratingly slow-paced; a web serial with nothing chapters in it leaves the reader feeling cheated for long stretches of time.

The thing to talk about doesn’t necessarily have to be a big plot reveal or major advancement. An incredibly cute scene, or sad scene, or funny scene will work just as well. But you have to give them SOMETHING. If you’re giving them nothing, consider cutting the chapter entirely and integrating any important foreshadowing or whatever into the next chapter.

One major hurdle of mine with this rule is recap chapters. If you’re writing a very complex plot over a long period of time, you need ways to occasionally take stock and make sure everyone is on the same page and nobody’s forgotten or misinterpreted anything important. This information can be recapped or conveyed in the middle of an action sequence or something, but I personally find that putting other stuff in the scene makes it too distracting and therefore less effective. I like to literally just sit the heroes down in a room and have them go, “okay, we’re spinning a lot of threads at once right now; what do we know, what are we trying to figure out, and what are our next steps?” This is the literary equivalent of the save point or room full of health packs right before a boss battle. Game designers don’t put that room there to be nice; they do it so that they know exactly how much health you’re going to have going into the battle, and can structure it accordingly.

You can make these chapters entertaining with character banter, but you can’t really introduce new threads to talk about, except possibly as a twist right at the end. Introducing new information mid-recap distracts from the recap and makes it pointless. You might have something similar in your stories, chapters that are essential but don’t give the reader anything new to work with.

My advice for these is to just bite the bullet on this one. Release the chapter with nothing new to talk about. You can get away with doing this occasionally, if the chapter has a clear purpose (I get a lot of readers tell me that they appreciate my recap chapters). Readers who get nothing out of the chapter will shrug and talk about older stuff instead, so long as you only do this occasionally. But a chapter with no new information has a cost in opportunity and in reader patience, so only pay it if the chapter’s worth it.

End on an open question– End the chapter with a reason for the reader to come back. You want them to think about the story afterward and be eager to read the next chapter when it comes out. Adhering to this principle is probably why I have such a reputation for cliffhangers, although truth be told I don’t use nearly as many actual cliffhangers as people say, I just try to end by opening a question. By that I mean, the audience should always end a chapter asking a question, which can be something that will span dozens of chapters (“How can Colonel Mustard’s fignerprints be on the candlestick? Is he being framed? Does this mean that the candlestick was in the library and isn’t even the murder weapon?”) or span a single paragraph (“How will the narrator react to learning that Colonel Mustard lied about never touchign the candlestick?”) This could be the emotional height of a scene, or the point at which new information recontextualises everything. It could be the moment where the stakes are raised or an important assumption turns out to be false. Anything that makes the audience eager to learn what happens next will do.

There should always be at least one open question in your story, more if it’s thematically appropriate. You know how mmorpgs and crafting games and suchlike keep you playing for hours and hours by making sure you’re always near the end of an activity – keep playing til you reach the next level, oh but now we’re nearly at the end of this quest so we should complete that, oh but now we’re just 20 gold short of being able to buy that cool new armour so we should just… same trick. Readers should always have at least one ‘quest’, an open question that they’re following, and should always be close to an answer.

You don’t have to dramatically introduce an entirely new question each time; you can end a chapter by reminding the reader of an existing open question. I tend to be a fan of the Big Dramatic Reveal On The Last Line method (cliffhanger reputation), but you don’t have to do it that way. Indeed, it’s a good idea not to do it that way every single time, lest you get stuck in a rut; every chapter ending doesn’t have to be incredibly tense and snappy. Somebody mentioning that they wish they knew how they could get enough food to make it through the winter before a full paragraph of cuddling and falling asleep in their mother’s arms works just as well.

5. It will help if your story is good, but it isn’t required.

You don’t have to be very good at writing to do this.

It helps to be good at writing, of course, and I assume that since you’re asking me for tips, you’re the sort of person who wants to be as good at writing as you can. But there is some true hack garbage out there doing absolute numbers in the web serial circuit. I try not to harp on about this too much because Curse Words fans get really upset at me when I do, but I think most of us can agree that Curse Words kind of sucks. And that just sucks in an ‘author is still learning how to do this’ kind of way; there’s much worse writing, real bullshit Ready Player One-level writing, trucking along out there brilliantly.

The point I’m trying to make here is that this isn’t an industry where there’s any value in hesitating and wringing your hands and asking yourself if you’re a good enough writer to do it yet. You are. You can just start writing a web serial right now and so long as you consistently update, you’re probably already above average for the market. And your first one probably will suck (mine did), but it’ll teach you how to make a better one. I think that Time to Orbit: Unknown is passably okay, and it absolutely would not be passably okay if I hadn’t written Curse Words first. Just go for it. Try to write a quality story if you can, but if you can’t, it’s honestly not that big of a deal. What matters, truly matters, is that you are committed to improving your craft. And that means actually practicing your craft. Which means writing some chapters and setting up a release schedule.

Good luck.

[leandra-kinard]

Okay, but have you considered that a) context matters and b) we are all coming from different places with different languages and different cultures?

Particularly the latter is something so American that it surprises me it comes from Aussies - the assumption that the entire international world 'revolves around' you and what things mean in the narrow context of your personal environment (culture, sub culture, language, nation etc.)

Think about it.

ABO is 3 letters, only 3. Without knowing it, you can assume that this is likely an acronym for dozens or more things in various places of the world.

By knowing it, I can tell you it's an acronym for a well-known wind energy corporation in Germany/neighboring countries, and as word itself it is short for 'subscription'. What is a slur to you, is a perfectly normal, common word for me that I've actually been using very frequently because of my work.

Looking it up, it's actually a regular word with various meanings in multiple languages.

Other things with the name/acronym 'abo'/'ABO'

A historic place in Mexico

The Swedish name for a city in Finland

Two American communities and a canyon

An Arabic or Hebrew male name

The Japanese name of Ekans, a Pokemon species

A Cameroonian language

American Board of Ophthalmology/Opticianry/Orthodontics

The code for Aboisso Airport in Côte d'Ivoire

The internationally used blood group system ABO (though AB0 in some nations)

Army Budget Office

Associated Builders and Owners

And that's just from looking it up for 5 minutes on Wiktionary, Wikipedia and one very America-centric abbreviations database, the latter of which has dozens other options than the few I listed. And these sources don't even list my mentioned ABO wind company (or what I assume must be dozens, if not hundreds of other companies with those 3 letters).

And then there's the context. When talking about fanfiction and shipping, who is going to assume you mean a slur for aboriginal people when they read "I've found this really great ABO fanfic with Spock as an omega"? Come on. I know this is the 'reading comprehension' website, but I'm sure we're all smart enough for that. Or most of us.

So. No. I'm not gonna write a/b/o (just typing it took me 3 backspaces and at least 3 times as much time). It's tedious, it's clunky, I don't like it. It's entirely unnecessary, because everybody knows what I mean and there's no way to eliminate that short 3-letter-combination from the hundreds different languages/nations/cultures on this planet anyway.

There are probably countless of completely normal words we use in our native languages that mean something offensive in another language. It is just sheer and utterly IMPOSSIBLE to rule that out. Ever.

Nobody should ever call you an 'abo' in the meaning and context that is offensive, but beyond that, be sensible, be logical, be tolerant instead of policing people's languages like that.

hey so when ur talking about omegaverse but espesh a/b/o yous need to leave the slashes in a/b/o if u have to use that term. bcos without the slashes, ur just putting a slur against my ppl (racists shorten the Aboriginal in Aboriginal Australians) all over my dash where i have to constantly see it and that fucking sucks, my guys

and i know most of yous didnt know this and thats fine! no need to apologise im not trying to make u feel bad, im just trying to navigate fandom and this website without being constantly exposed to a really awful racist slur

if u have to use that specific term, at least keep the slashes between the letters. it still sucks to see tho ngl. even better! stick to omegaverse or instead use aob (alpha-omega-beta) (imo its also nicer to pronounce; ay-oh-bee. ayo-bee)

anyway, pls spread awareness and (nicely) let ppl know when theyre using a racist slur for a fandom term

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 7

Previous Chapter: Part 6 | Next Chapter: Coming Soon!

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Smut

🚫🔞THIS IS AN ADULT BLOG CONTAINING EXPLICIT CONTENT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, A18+ ONLY.🔞🚫

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, lemon. This chapter is very tame compared to the others!

Link to My Master List

The Party

You all rush back to the 1A dorm, your laughter spilling into the crisp night air as you congratulate each other for coming up with such a genius plan. You all trust Hatsume to do her part here – after all, she is the prodigy of the Support Course! At this point, Mineta doesn’t really have a choice but to participate – he’s already in way too deep (Or too high, for that matter).

You spread your arms wide as you run, the inky black sky above you blinking with a smattering of golden stars. It feels good to be young and reckless. You cackle as Monoma reaches out and grabs your hand, holding out his other to Toru. She takes it (or you assume she does – it’s hard to tell in the dark), and you feel Mina’s fingers interlace with your free hand. The four of you must look wild – a group of Japan’s most promising heroes in training locking hands and laughing under a perfect evening sky. You want to freeze this moment in your mind – take a snapshot and tuck it into the golden locket of your heart.

When you finally reach the dorm building, the four of you are breathless and wheezing. The rush of being young and pulling off a crazy scheme continues to pump through your veins as you take the stairs two at a time. When you finally reach the common area, your breath catches in your throat as you take in the scene.

It looks fabulous.

You have successfully blacked out the windows, causing the space to feel cozy but oddly illicit. Shoto has leant some of his expensive throw blankets to the cause - the navy woven squares are scattered across the room. Each blanket has been tastefully draped across the backs of the couches. Shoji and Tokoyami have arrived early, and are using their quirks to string up fairy lights around the space. The tiny lights give the space a warm, soft glow that fills your heart with an odd nostalgia. It looks like a picture book or a Pinterest board – fabulously cozy and sweet. You long for Shoto – it would be so saccharine to snuggle up to him under the tiny, blinking lights.

“Where did you get those!?” Mina says in awe, pointing at the lovely lights as Dark Shadow fastens the cord to a window frame.

“Hatsume from the Support Course popped by earlier and passed them along. I guess she developed them for underground missions or search and rescue? They’re super sturdy - battery powered and non-flammable.” Shoji says, tapping a fairy light bulbs with one of his dupliarm fingers. “So far they haven’t shown any sign of exploding or anything, so we figured it would be safe enough to hang them up.”

“They’re so cute!” Toru squeals, dancing around the room with her invisible arms thrown wide as she takes in the space. “This looks incredible guys!”

“Thanks again for all of your help!” you say to the guys (and Dark Shadow, of course!). As they finish hanging up the lights and grab seats on the couches. Dark Shadow is careful handling the lights, but given you’re all in a safe space his strength doesn’t really matter.

“It’s an honor to be part of this illicit evening.” Tokoyami says stoically, Dark Shadow grinning above him.

The Shadow butts in with his quivery voice. “Fumikage wants to kiss a girl tonight!”

If the bird boy could blush, his cheeks would be on fire right now.

“Dark Shadow!” He admonishes, pinching the bridge of his beak with two fingers.

“What!? I’m only telling the truth!” Dark Shadow squawks out, shrugging his staticky arms towards the heavens as he smiles mischievously.

“Oh really!?” Mina sidles up to where Tokoyami is perched on the edge of a couch cushion. “And what lucky lady’s caught your eye?”

“It’s no one’s concern!” Tokoyami refuses to look at Mina or to meet her gaze.

Dark Shadow buzzes excitedly in between the two and whispers conspiratorially into Mina’s ear. “He has a little crush on Tsu!”

“DARK SHADOW THAT IS ENOUGH!” Tokoyami says loudly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he gets to his feet. “We’re going to go back to my room until you decide you can behave.” He stomps off to the dorms, Dark Shadow hovering behind him and shooting Mina a thumbs up.

“Well that would certainly be an interesting couple!” She says impishly, rubbing her hands together.

“Mina.” You say, rolling your eyes. “Cut it out with the match making – we’ve got a secret party to pull off!”

“Fine, fine.” She waves you off, making her way to the kitchen to set up the booze.  “Come on, guys. The party planners get the first drink of the night!” You and Toru cheer as you follow her to the kitchen.

“Nieto, Shoji – you want drinks?” You call over your shoulder, watching as Nieto takes the seat next to Shoji and starts up a conversation about Present Mic’s latest English lesson. They both shake their heads.

“I think Koda’s bringing some soda and ice tea – I’ll wait for that.” Nieto says, throwing you a peace sign. For the billionth time, you wonder when he became so damn loveable. Never in a million years would you picture yourself getting close to the blonde haired idiot.

In the kitchen, Mina and Toru are measuring out their glass bottle of booze – pouring small amounts into red, yellow and blue solo cups. “Guess who bought the paper goods?” Mina smirks as you reach for a cup.

“It was Midoriya, wasn’t it?” You swish around the amber liquid in your distinctively All Might colored cup.

“Bingo.” Mina takes a swig from her own cup and makes a face. “This’ll take some getting used to – hey! Sip it slow, Toru!” Mina admonishes as Toru downs her cup in a few gulps. You both look at her incredulously.

“What? I thought it would be better to get it over with! But yuck it burnsssss!” She squeals, crinkling the yellow cup in her invisible hand.

You sniff at your own cup – the scent is strong. You’ve sipped alcohol before at fancy family parties when your parents have allowed, but you’ve never had a full cup to yourself. You take a tentative sip and aren’t surprised when you agree with Toru – the stuff definitely burns on the way down. You make a “yuck” face. Maybe you’ll just stick to soda tonight.

You place your cup on the kitchen counter and reach for a bag of chips. You easily pop open the bag and start pouring the crisps into a large bowl to place out for the crowd.

“Okay. So Sato’s bringing desserts, Koda’s handling soft drinks, Shinsou’s handled the playlist…” You rattle off, slipping your phone out of your pocket to check your notes app to remind yourself of everyone’s rolls and responsibilities. You have a text from Shoto – you open it up to reveal a photo of his new whale plush.

Shoto: Kuchihiro is ready to party.

He’s added a disco ball emoji and you feel insanely proud of him for using emoji’s so liberally these days.

“You’re making that face at your phone again.” Mina snickers.

“What face?” You say, closing your phone and putting it back in your pocket. “I don’t make any phone faces!”

“You so do.” Toru says, draping her arms around Mina’s shoulders. “Lately you have this goofy lovesick look whenever you open up your phone.”

“I do not!” You say defensively, trying to laugh it off as heat floods your cheeks.

“Whatever you say!” Mina says brightly, rolling her eyes as she opens up a bag of pretzels and pours it out into another brightly colored bowl. “Let’s get back to your list…so Shinsou’s handling music, the guys have snacks and drinks covered. Oh! And entertainment will be MC’ed by yours truly!” Mina says, closing her eyes and posing dramatically with her cup of booze. Her tiny horns quiver in excitement.

“How could I forget that.” You say, rolling your eyes. Internally, you’re grateful for the change in subject. You don’t know how much longer you can keep Shoto a secret from your girlfriends. It’s so tempting to spill every juicy detail of your hookups to Toru and Mina. You long to tell them about the way he kisses, the dirty (and sweet!) things he’s been known to say in bed, how the velvety weight of his cock feels in your palm when you get him off…But no. Not right now. There’s too much at stake with UA’s no-dating policy. The less people who know, the better.

Focus on the party, dammit.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening!” Toru shrieks, doing a little jig around the kitchen.

“Alright guys – remember Hatsume is gonna buy us as much time as she can. That being said, we need to keep an eye on the clock and on our phones. It’s likely we won’t get a ton of warning if one of the teachers catches wind of our party and decides to bust us. Is everyone’s phone charged!?”

Mina and Toru both hold up their phones – at 85% and 25% battery, respectively.

“Toru!” You cry out, scooping her phone out of her hands and plugging it in to a nearby wall charger.

“What!? You and Mina have phones. Everyone in the dorm has phones! We’re fiiiiinnnneeee.” She draws out her last word and smacks her lips at the end. Oh, god. The alcohol is already kicking in. “Just three hot ladies against the world!” She cheers twirling. You and Mina lock eyes and Mina hesitantly puts her drink down on the counter. It’s probably best if you’re both sober to pull off this plan.

A few moments later Sato, Koda and a girl you don’t recognize join you in the kitchen. The animal hero holds quite the collection of beverages in his broad arms – iced teas, sodas, and lemonades catch your eye. He smiles happily as you help relieve him of the drinks, thanking him profusely.

Sato’s stacking tupperwares and trays of baked goods up on the counter – the heavenly scents of brownies, layer cakes and cookies dance across the room. Toru bounces around in excitement and praises the boys for bringing the provisions.

Mina pulls the mystery girl over towards you and Toru. The girl is rather pretty – she’s average height with long, glossy black hair that falls past her shoulders. She’s wearing a lovely light pink sweater embroidered with purple tulips. It pairs nicely with her flared blue jeans and tiny floral belt.

“Girls! I’d like you to meet Fumiko Fujita, my new friend from General Studies!” Mina waves her hands enthusiastically and points at the terrified Fujita, who’s biting her lip and looking at the ground. “She’s a little shy, but she’s excited to join the party and get to know everyone! Mind entertaining her for a sec while I go ask Shoji to hang up some streamers?”

“Uh…sure. What’s up?” You say uncertainly as Mina skips away to the other room. Who the hell is this chick?

The poor girl’s grey eyes dart up at you and Toru before she looks back at the ground.

“Hey.” She says quietly, thumbing at the edge of her sleeves anxiously. You take mercy on the poor nervous girl.

“It’s nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, and this is Toru Hagakure.” You say, taking a step back to give her some space.

“Hey there!” Toru bubbles excitedly, hiccupping a bit at the end. “Mina didn’t mention anyone from General Studies would be coming. Do you know our friend Shinsou?”

Fujita glances up at Toru and seems to relax when she registers that your friend is completely invisible.

“We were in separate classes. He ended up transferring into Class 1A, right?” She has a lovely voice – soft and sweet.

“Yes, he did recently. We’ve just started training with him and he’s really great!” You say, trying to keep the conversation flowing. “He’s told us a bit about the General Studies program and it sounds like you guys get to learn a little bit of everything which is super cool. I heard you recently did a work-studies with leading companies across Japan. How was that?”

Immediately she perks up and her eyes brighten as she babbles about participating in a work-study with a leading Hero PR Firm up North. She’s really quite likeable once the dialogue gets going. You get the feeling that she thought all you Hero Course students you would likely be pompous jerks. You’re more than happy to prove her wrong.

You chat for a few more minutes, asking questions about her experience in the General Studies course and about her passion for Hero media. Toru adds in a tipsy comment here and there, and a few minutes later the three of you are giggling like good friends.

“Sorry I was so nervous earlier – I’ve never really spoken to anyone in the hero course.” Fujita says genially as she accepts a cup of iced tea from a wobbly Toru. “I wasn’t sure what to expect. But you all are…well, normal people.”

“Why wouldn’t we be!?” Toru asks in surprise. Fujita looks away and blushes, embarrassed.

“I dunno…sometimes when the other courses talk about you guys they make it sound like the hero course is full of self centered powerful jerks. I think a lot of people in General Studies are jealous because they didn’t make the cut for the hero program.” She says thoughtfully, sipping from her cup.

“Is that how you feel?” You ask, feeling a bit hurt those other students in the school feel so poorly about your class.

“No, not really. I was never aiming for the Hero track. I applied directly to General Studies so I can learn about all aspects of the hero world and take classes in both the Business and Support programs. Plus this school has the best student library in the country. Actually, that’s where I met Mina.” She says thoughtfully.

“Aw it makes me feel bad that the other courses think we’re jerks.” Toru says sadly, draped over the kitchen counter. 

“Not everyone does! Just a few.” Fujita assures her, reaching to grab a handful of pretzels from the bowl. “More than anything I was intimidated to come to the party since I don’t really know anyone.”

“That’s valid.” You nod, grabbing a few pretzels yourself. “So did Mina invite you to meet new friends, or…?” You’re honestly not really sure why Fujita is here. You’re happy for the company and to meet new UA students, but it seems kind of random that Mina wouldn’t encourage the girl to bring along friends from the Support Course.

And, speak of the Devil! Mina appears – a blur of pink as she dashes towards you all and grabs Fujita by the shoulders, causing her to squeal in surprise.

“Come on Fumiko! We need to go prep – I have a list for you just like you asked!” Mina steers the girl out of the kitchen and towards the common room, which is rapidly filling with students from classes A and B. She gives you and Toru a wave and a wink as she frog marches Fujita out of the space.

“…a list?” Toru wonders as she takes another sip from her cup.

“She’s definitely up to something.” You say to your invisible friend, watching Mina pull the General Studies Course girl to an empty corner of the room to whisper conspiratorially at her. Toru giggles and hiccups next to you, drooping back across the kitchen counter. You sigh and pour her a glass of water.

Class A has begun to filter into the common area, with guests from Class B coming in one at a time in order to avoid raising suspicion amongst the UA faculty and staff.

You wave to Midoriya as he arrives with Ochaco and Tsu. Tokoyami eventually re-emerges from his room and joins the party alongside Eijiro and Momo. Everyone is dressed to the nines – wearing their nicest little outfits and smiling widely. The girls are all done up in makeup the likes of which can never be worn in the classroom or in combat practice. Everyone has a happy glow about them – excited to be part of a fun evening in.

You grin as you join the group, passing around bowls of snacks and welcoming people in.

“Wow, you guys have really outdone yourselves!” Ochaco cries happily as she accepts a bowl of chips. “I know I was discouraging the party idea in the beginning, but honestly I’m so glad you ignored me and went through with this! It feels like it’s gonna be a fun night!”

“And you even got Class B to come out for this, ribbit.” Tsu adds, waving at a cluster of Class B students sitting on one of the couches. “This will be great for Hero Course morale.”

You smile and happily accept their compliments, excited to see where the night takes you all.

And that’s when you see Shoto Todoroki enter the room.

Your mouth is practically watering as you take him in - he looks incredible. He’s traded his usual sweatpants/t-shirt combo for a pair of khaki chinos that nip in to accentuate his delightfully narrow waist. His beautiful pale skin stands out in contrast with his navy blue polo shirt. It looks cozy like it’s made of a comfy textured sweatery material. He looks so goddamn delicious and slutty in this little outfit that you wish you could whisk him away to your room and make him cum all over again.

As if the outfit wasn’t enough, there’s this…

… Shoto is wearing his self proclaimed “Squirtle Squad” sunglasses inside.

You have to stifle a laugh as you realize he’s wearing the glasses he bought for himself and his whale plush as a bit. The sunglasses look completely normal (definitely RayBans or some other fancy pants brand that only a Todoroki could afford). But you know he’s wearing them for you as a continuation of the joke. This makes it even better – Shoto is far too practical to needlessly wear sunglasses indoors. It’s almost as if he’s flaunting your connection out in the open for everyone to see. It makes your heart warm and fuzzy and a laugh bubbles up out of you despite yourself.

Hagakure turns to you with interest. “What are you giggling about girl?”

You can’t help yourself – you subtly point at Todoroki as he steps into the common area, looking stylish and cool with that typical neutral expression of his.

“Ohmygod!” Toru lets out in a rush. “Todoroki is looking like a snack tonight! Hubba hubba!” She grabs onto you and shakes you a few times.

“Toru, you need another glass of water.” You say, laughing as you disentangle yourself from her invisible arms.

“I am perfectly sober again, thank you very much!” She huffs, pulling away from you so she can keep staring at Shoto. “Todoroki wearing that cunty little outfit sobered me right up.” This comment has you absolutely wheezing with laughter.

“I’m gonna go say hi to him and ask why he’s wearing sunglasses inside.” You tell her, sauntering your way towards Shoto.

When you make it across the room to greet him, he’s leaning over a bowl of pretzels, carefully selecting the most pristine, unbroken pretzel stick he can find. You give him a moment, watching as he chooses a pretzel and raises it to his sunglasses-covered eyes to examine it closely. It must pass whatever visual test Shoto is performing, because he pops it into his mouth and starts to chew.

You stare for a millisecond at the way his strong shoulders shift beneath the cozy sweater material of his shirt. You long to run your hands across him so you can feel the hard muscles of his back. Ugh if only you could peel that shirt off of him so you could kiss each sharp divot of his spine. You recall earlier the way his back had trembled against your bare chest as you’d jerked him off in your lap. Maybe the two of you could sneak off somewhere and do that again…

You shake yourself from your daydream and reach up to tap him lightly on the shoulder. “Hey there, stranger.” You say behind him. He turns to you and - despite the mouthful of pretzel – he beams. His entire body practically lights up as your eyes meet. You want to tell him to cool it – stop being so goddamn beautiful and looking at you so openly where everyone can see.

“I see we have a card carrying member of the Squirtle Squad in our midst this fine evening.” You say, crossing your arms with a smirk. His smile grows impossibly wider and he flips up the sunglasses to rest on top of his head. The motion pulls his bangs up in a way that would make most men look goofy. But on Todoroki, the hairstyle is devastatingly hot.

“You caught me.” He says quietly. “I even wore blue. Have you ever heard of cosplaying? I just learned of it on the internet this morning. I’m cosplaying as Squirtle.”

Oh this sweet baby boy. His eyes glint with excitement and you wish you could pull him into a hug he’s being so soft and open with you right now. You settle for something simpler. You reach your hand out to the pretzel bowl, letting your pinky brush against his as you fish out a broken pretzel stick. He shivers at the contact. You bet he’s half-hard in those tight pants of his. You shake your head quickly, trying to clear it of your horny thoughts. You try not to think about what’s under his attractive clothes – it would be ideal to make it through this night with dry panties, after all.

“I have heard of cosplaying! Just wait until I take you to a Comic Con, Shoto. I’m gonna blow your mind.” You tease, giving him a tiny wink. You quickly reevaluate your surroundings to make sure no one is seeing how downright flirty you’re being with Todoroki.

“You already did this morning.” He admits, cheeks rosy with a blush. “You seem to find new ways to blow my mind almost daily.” He absentmindedly adjusts the sunglasses holding back his two toned hair.

“You better get used to it.” You intone softly. Izuku, Ochaco and Tsuyu make their way towards you to greet Todoroki. You quickly take a step backwards from Shoto to put some distance between the two of you. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Woah, Todoroki! Nice sunglasses!” Izuku Midoriya is bouncing on his heels with excitement as he makes his way towards you and Shoto. Your private conversation comes to a quick halt, Shoto purposefully taking a few steps apart from you as well so that no one will sense your mutual attraction.

Midoriya is eager to chat with Shoto and ask his opinion on the latest battle strategy class your class has undergone. Shoto eagerly sinks his teeth into the topic. He’s told you multiple times of his admiration for Midoriya and of how highly he values their friendship. You smile softly and let them yap, taking the opportunity to make your way back to Toru with Ochaco and Tsu in tow.

“Do you plan on playing Spin The Bottle tonight, Tsu?” Ochaco asks, munching on a few pretzel sticks she’s snagged from Shoto’s pretzel bowl. “I’m undecided!”

Tsu blushes a light pink and holds her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I’m ready for something like that, ribbit. And I like all of our classmates, but it would be awkward to kiss someone for the first time in front of the whole entire class.”

“Yeah, I agree.” Ochaco says, finishing her last bite of pretzel. “I would be a little embarrassed! But there’s something kind of thrilling about the game, ya know?” She turns her face towards you. “What about you, Y/N? You think you’ll play?”

“Mina, Toru and I have been planning this party for so long, that it would be weird if I didn’t play!” You laugh, waving Toru over to your group. She’s a little ways ahead chatting up Ojiro.

“If you could choose anyone in the class to kiss, who would it be? Who do you hope gets picked for you?” Ochaco is bouncing excitedly at your side. She’s just as bad as Toru tonight – so much enthusiasm and teenage horniness.

“Huh.” You say, trying not to let your eyes stray towards Shoto. “You know, I really haven’t thought about it.” You quickly try to divert the conversation to another topic. “Did you know that Shoji and Tokoyami did most of the decorating in here?”

“They did a great job!” Tsu says, admiring the many streamers and decorations that the boys have hung up. “Tokoyami is so talented with that Dark Shadow of his, ribbit!” Hmm, interesting. Seems like Tokoyami’s crush on Tsu may not be totally one sided. You smile lightly as Toru skips towards you all.

“Ojiro better be my Spin The Bottle kiss!” She whispers urgently to the three of you. “He’s looking like an absolute snack in those corduroy pants. It would be a shame for them to stay on him the entire night.”

“Toru!” You squeal, scandalized alongside Tsu and Ochaco.

“What!?” Toru laughs mischievously. “I’m just saying – an ass that fine deserves to be admired up close. Naked. And I volunteer as tribute!”

“Oh my God!” Ochaco laughs. “I didn’t realize Spin The Bottle involves booty!”

“Just my version!” Toru cackles as she turns to look at Ojiro over her shoulder. “I am going to absolutely wreck him someday. Tail and all.”

This conversation is making you feel hot around the collar. You change the subject quickly for all of your sakes. “Ochaco…who would you choose to kiss? Midoriya, right?” You side eye your friend as she blushes and stammers.

“Oh I don’t know about that! W-we’re just good friends!” She plays with her hair, un-tucking and than re-tucking her bangs behind her ears.

“Good friends can kiss!” Toru says loudly, and you roll your eyes as you glance around for some water you can pour down her throat.

The four of you chat and giggle together as other classmates continue to roll into the party. Snacks are being passed around and the overall atmosphere is jovial. Members of Classes A and B are mixing nicely, and you realize with a start that there has never really been an opportunity for the two classes to get together and just socialize before. All of your interactions are for training or competition purposes. This is the first time you’ve all really been able to let loose and mingle.

Eventually, Neito comes to join the little group. He laughs and teases and jokes alongside you all as if he’s always been a part of the crew. It’s as if the past few months of teasing and goading Class A have never happened. You notice that he’s bouncing around with a frenetic energy, constantly craning his neck to see over the crowd. You guess he’s nervous and waiting for a curtained purple haired Shinsou to make an appearance.

When Shinsou does finally make his way into the common room, you’re the first to see him. He strides into the room with a bored look on his face. His expression instantly brightens as classmates across the room shout greetings.

“Shinsou, my man!” Kamanari shoots him finger guns from across the room where he’s chatting with Jirou and Tokoyami.

“Hey Shinsou!” Izuku calls out with a wave from where he’s still deep in conversation with Shoto.

You watch a small smile stretch across Shinsou’s face and you recall what he was like when your class first met him – a shy guy convinced he needed to be a loner. It’s funny how much he’s grown in such a short time. He’s now on friendly terms with almost everyone, waving and sharing greetings with the bulk of Class A and B and he makes his way through the crowd.

You notice something else important, too - Shinsou looks…hot.

Wow, you’ve totally never noticed how attractive he is before. He’s all angles and brooding, but in a kind of slutty way!? He glides through the room surveying the scene with intense, sleepy eyes framed by thick lashes. He’s wearing a slouchy oversized sweater that accentuates his broad shoulders in just the right way. His black skinny jeans pull a bit at his thighs – he’s clearly bulked up a lot in the past few months that he’s been in the hero course. It looks as if he hasn’t gotten around to buying new clothes to fit his more muscular frame. His jeans tuck down into dark purple high top vans.

You can’t help but stare. Huh. You’ve only really seen him in various school uniforms. You’ve never taken care to wonder how Hitoshi Shinsou dresses himself for a social outing. And now here he is, looking like some skater out of an American high school dramedy.

You glance over at Monoma and he’s clearly spotted Shinso as well. He’s practically got heart eyes as he drinks in Shinsou’s emo outfit. As Ochaco, Toru and Tsu discuss Mount Lady’s latest city rescue in detail, Neito leans down to whisper in your ear.

“God. He’s looking absolutely sinful.” He chews on his thumbnail absently as he watches Shinsou scoop up a handful of chips while he chats with Momo. “I’ve never seen him gel his hair like that before. It looks so…good.” Neito chokes a bit on the last word.

“You’d better get it together.” You whisper back conspiratorially. “Go and talk to him about the playlist or something.”

Neito’s eyes brighten and he nods furiously. “Yes. Of course. You’re a genius. Let’s get this show on the road.” He rolls back his shoulders and rearranges his facial features into something akin to confidence. You’re hit with a sudden realization.

“Neito were you…a theater kid in middle school!?” You chuckle as he readies himself to go greet his crush.

He shoots you a look. “Now is not the time for me to regale you with tales of how I played Link Larkin in my middle school’s production of Hairspray.” This dramatic bastard. He takes a moment to stretch and shake out his muscles, eyes focused across the room on an oblivious Shinsou. You stifle a laugh. “Shut up! I’m mustering strength to go seduce the man of my dreams!” Neito snaps at you, but he’s grinning.

“You’ve got this.” You say to him under your breath, giving him two thumbs up.

He puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes lightly. “Here’s hoping!”

“Alright ladies. I’ll see you in a bit for the main event!” He says briskly to your group, waving goodbye to the four of you as he strides across the room on long legs.

You watch him approach Shinsou with his usual “Phantom Thief” bravado. You never realized how much Monoma is truly faking his confidence. Up until now, you truly thought he was some sort of wild psychopath who lived to make everyone’s lives a little difficult. But now you know the true Monoma – the anxious teen who doesn’t believe he truly deserves to be in the hero course. The classmate who is trying way too hard to overcompensate for what he views is a “lesser” quirk.

Shinsou’s mouth quirks up at the corner as Monoma comes into his line of sight. The blonde cracks a joke and gestures expansively at the room before throwing an arm around Shinsou’s broad shoulders. You guess he’s probably making a comment about how Class A thinks they have the best dorm or something like that. To your surprise, Shinsou laughs at whatever Monoma is saying. His face is open, his expression light. He looks up at Monoma with soft eyes. Huh, maybe there’s a chance for that Class B weirdo after all.

Neito approaches Hitoshi with a loose wave that he hopes is oozing confidence. Momo waves goodbye as she’s forcibly pulled away from Shinsou by Kamanari (whos’ ranting about needing her opinion on some tea). Neito is grateful that the interruption has left Shinsou wonderfully alone.

“Ah, is that my eternal vampire lover? Finally come to collect what’s his?” Neito jokes as he rolls up to greet his purple haired friend. He stretches his arms up and gestures at their classmates around the room. “These folks have no idea that we are the masterminds behind Cloak and Dagger Melodies.” Hitoshi smirks and Neito decides to push his luck. He slings an arm around Shinsou’s strong shoulders.

Hitoshi smiles at him, eyes soft. “If I was a vampire, I’d have drained you of blood a long time ago.” He mutters in that gravely tone of his.

Fuck. Hot tendrils of arousal shoot straight through Neito’s gut in response to that little comment. His brain short-circuits as he pictures Hitoshi’s sharp canines biting into the delicate skin of his neck.

“You ready to rock this place?” Hitoshi says, a little louder. He digs his hand into his back pocked and pulls out his phone. He swipes it open and pulls up the Cloak and Dagger Melodies Spotify playlist in a swift motion. Neito watches from over his shoulder, arm still wrapped around Hitoshi and his plush oversized sweater.

“No passcode security on your phone? My, Hitoshi, you like to live dangerously.” Neito quips flirtily.

Hitoshi’s eyes flicker up to meet Neito’s. “I have nothing to hide.” He says softly, flicking his thumb across the screen and opening up “Settings.” “What’s the name of Mina’s speaker?”

“Oh – it’s, uh, the one you’d expect it to be.” Neito says in a strained voice, pointing at the phone screen. Hitoshi looks down at the list of Bluetooth devices ready to connect and his eyebrows quirk upwards.

“You can’t be serious.” He says, disbelieving.

“I’m afraid I am.” Neito says somberly.

Hitoshi selects the device labeled “EijirosThiccBootyCheeks” and hits connect. His phone instantly pairs with the speaker. Perfect timing - Eijiro Kirishima walks by and greets them both with an easy smile on his way to the kitchen. As he strides away, Hitoshi and Neito’s eyes linger on his backside. Kirishima’s tight fitting jeans accentuate the plump curve of his ass, which bounces a bit with his springy steps.

“Christ.” Hitoshi chortles into his free hand, barely able to hold back a bark of gravely laughter. “He really does have ‘thicc booty cheeks.’”

Neito slides his arm off of his friend’s shoulders so he can stifle his own laughter. Once Kirishima is fully out of sight they dissolve into giggles, gasping for air each time they lock eyes with each other.

“Mina really is too much.” Hitoshi says once they’ve calmed down a bit. “She better get to kiss the hell out of Kirishima tonight during Spin the Bottle. If she doesn’t, even I’ll be disappointed.” He opens up Spotify again and kicks off the playlist. Music swells from the speaker on one of the common room tables, adding a sweet ambiance to the room full of chattering students.

“Yeah it’s crazy those two haven’t become a couple already. They’ve been pining for each other for what seems like forever.” Neito says, patting the wrinkles out of his button down as he comes down from his laughter high.

Hitoshi catches his eye meaningfully. “It’s funny, I feel like there’s a lot of mutual pining going on in the Hero Course lately.”

Neito doesn’t know what to say. He can’t piece together if Hitoshi is referring to the two of them, or if he’s talking about the other almost-couples in Class A: Jirou and Kamanari, Izuku and Uraraka…

He opens up his mouth to ask Hitoshi to clarify what he means, but is interrupted by - “Hey guys, do you want some bevvies!?” Toru appears out of seemingly nowhere, bearing two half-full All Might solo cups smelling strongly of alcohol.

Hitoshi shakes his head no. “I think I’m gonna grab some coffee from the kitchen. I could use the caffeine.”

“I’ll probably have another iced tea. But thanks, Toru.” Neito says warmly. She nods (well, based on her body language one can assume she’s nodding her invisible head in understanding) and moves on to the next group to pass around her drinks.

“You’ve certainly seemed to hit it off with Mina, Y/N and Toru lately.” Hitoshi says thoughtfully, smiling smugly at Neito. “I guess us Class A folks aren’t as bad as you made us out to be, yeah?”

Neito makes a show of crossing his arms. He puts on a theatrical scowl for a moment, then drops it. “Honestly…it’s been really nice. I feel like I can be myself around them. Like how I am with you. You all have a weird way of making me feel…less insecure about myself. I don’t need to posture or put on a show for you guys.” Neito looks at the ground, a bit embarrassed. He wasn’t expecting to get so vulnerable out in the open, in the middle of Class A’s common room.

Hitoshi’s still smiling when Neito looks up to meet his eyes. His mouth looks so impossibly soft – Neito wishes he could just lean in and press a kiss to Shinsou’s perfect cupid’s bow.

“I like seeing you like this. You deserve friends who bring out the best in you.” Hitoshi says simply, pocketing his phone. Neito doesn’t have time to react before Hitoshi grabs his sleeve and pulls him in the direction of the kitchen. “Now come on, let’s get some caffeine before Mina starts wrangling everyone up for her screwy little game.”

As Hitoshi pulls him through the crowd, thumb brushing softly against his wrist, Neito feels like he may be in something close to heaven.

Everyone is munching on the chips and pretzels, chatting and laughing. Toru has been passing around small cups of liquor in regular intervals until the bottle is completely empty. When it’s split between all of the people at the party, the alcohol doesn’t really amount to enough to make anyone truly drunk. It’s almost everyone’s first experience with drinking, and a few of your classmates are buzzed and giggly.

As everyone continues to socialize, Mina and Toru work together to peel off the liquor bottle’s dark label. When they’re done, you use a liberal amount of cheap dish soap to rinse and clean out the glass bottle in the communal kitchen sink. You roll up your sleeves to avoid soaking them in the hot, soapy water as you try to get all of the sticky label residue off of the smooth glass. When you’re finally done, Neito holds out a helpful hand, taking the bottle from you so he can towel it dry.

Hitoshi sits on the kitchen counter with his long legs crossed. He’s sipping on a hot cup of coffee, an amused smirk on his face as he watches you all prep and pass the bottle around reverently. From time to time he turns to ask a question to Fujita, who is perched on the counter top next to him. She’s babbling animatedly about what his old class is up to in General Studies, and he seems more than happy to add to the conversation whenever she pauses for a breath.

It’s nice, having all of your friends new and old gathered together in the small space. The conversation flows easily and there is a warm buzz of familiarity and fun hanging in the air. Neito finishes drying off the bottle and holds it up to the light, grinning at you. His eyes flicker over to Hitoshi and his smile squiggles nervously.

Finally, Mina turns to all of you in the kitchen. She claps her hands together like she’s about to pray. She looks up at you all over her steepled fingers and says in an ominous tone.

“Fam. It is time.”

Ten minutes later, most of Classes A and B has been wrangled into a vague circle formation in the common room. Chairs have been dragged into the mix, but most of your friends are sitting on the floor. Those who don’t want to participate directly but are eager to witness the game stand on the sidelines in small pockets. 

You sit with Toru and Fujita from General Studies to your right. Neito and Hitoshi sit on your left. Everyone is buzzing with energy and maybe a teensy bit of alcohol.

Mina, of course, is at the center of everything. Her bright pink skin naturally draws all attention onto her. She brings up her hand to signal for everyone to stop talking, and unsurprisingly the whole crowd listens. She’s got a natural aptitude for leadership, making her an ideal future hero.

“Here are the rules!” Mina holds the bottle above her head like it’s a sacred trophy. “Each round, one person will be chosen to spin the bottle. If you get picked, you’ll stand in the center of the circle and lay the bottle on the ground and give it a hard spin. Whoever the bottle points to, you’ve gotta kiss. Seems easy enough, right?” She grins broadly at all of you, bouncing on her toes in excitement.

“What if we don’t want to kiss someone in the group?” Sero asks skeptically, raising his hand. “Can we get another spin?”

Mina’s eyes flash as she turns to him. “Nope. By joining this circle, you consent to kiss whoever the bottle chooses – no redoes. Of course, you can say no at anytime and bow out of the game. But once the bottle is spun, you don’t get another try.”

“Fair enough.” Sero concedes, settling back into his seat.

“Here’s an important rule - we’re all going to be respectful of each other here. Don’t make things weird – no groping, no butt grabbing, and no tongue. Just because someone kisses you during the game, doesn’t mean they have feelings for you or owe you anything else. Got it?” Mina gives you all an intense look and the group nods in unison. “I’ll serve as the master of ceremonies and select each spinner. We ready to rock and roll?”

“I think we need a demonstration!” Denki calls out from across the circle, eyes bright with mischief. He practically crackles with electricity as he calls out in a teasing tone “Why don’t you go first, Miss ‘Master of Ceremonies’?”

Mina smiles back, all game. “Of course. Watch and learn, everybody.” She saunters to the center of the circle and makes a show of placing the bottle on the ground. She bends over lithely, shaking her ass as she does so. A few people wolf whistle and she turns to give you and Toru a conspiratorial wink. She’s such a showman its ridiculous. You briefly wonder whom she’ll get. Will she be disappointed when the bottle doesn’t land on Eijiro? After all, the odds of having the bottle land on your first choice has got to be slim to none…

She gives the bottle a wicked spin and the game is officially afoot. The glass bottle whizzes across the hardwood floor as everyone watches, captivated. It spins for longer than you expected, turning end over end before it finally seems to start losing momentum. Everyone in the room seems to be holding his or her breath, eyes on the bottle as it skitters to the left and then stops dead…right in front of Eijiro Kirishima.

If Kirishima is surprised by this turn of events, he doesn’t show it. He grins up at Mina as he gets to his feet.

“Weren’t you teasin’ me earlier about this, hoping you’d get to kiss me?” He says loud enough for everyone to hear. Mina smiles and shrugs. You see her glance quickly at the General Studies girl then back up at Eijiro. Huh, strange.

“So, how chivalrous are you going to be right now?” She says slyly, inching towards him on tiptoes. He laughs and leans down to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. The gesture is so gentle and caring that it makes you envious. You wish that Shoto would kiss you like that in front of all of your classmates.

“Good enough for the game?” He asks as he stands back upright. He’s flushed as he looks down at her with bright eyes, his mouth quirked up in a shark toothed grin.

Mina looks up at him, eyes half lidded. She smiles slightly as she shakes her head no.

“Sorry, Eijiro. We need to kick off this game with a little more spice!” Mina cries out dramatically, moving back towards her classmate.

“Wha-?” Kirishima doesn’t have time to react – Mina’s throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the mouth with gusto. Eijiro’s eyes are wide with shock, but after a second he’s kissing her back sweetly. His hands come up to cradle her face so he can kiss her better. It’s a kiss that feels too special - like it should be private.

The whole thing lasts maybe 15 seconds, and then Mina breaks the kiss and hops away as if she’s been electrified. Everyone cheers and she shakes her head as she comes back to herself. After a shaky breath, she takes a sweeping bow.

Kirishima, however, is standing in the center of the circle looking uncomfortable and lost. “Oh jeez that was so embarrassing Mina!” He practically whines out, covering his blushing face with his hands.

“What are you talking about!? Letting a girl kiss you is super manly.” Mina calls out above the roar of the crowd. She leans in closer to him and whispers a quick “Sorry Eij.”

He shakes her off and goes back to take his seat, blushing the whole way and avoiding her eye contact. Midoriya pats him on the shoulder empathetically, and all of the other guys are clearly glad they weren’t chosen first.

“So that’s how it’s done!” Mina glances guiltily at Eijiro before grabbing the bottle off the ground. She waves it in the air enticingly. “Who’s next?” She scans the crowd of classmates before deciding on her first victim. “Kaminari, how about you?”

Denki looks up with a start and points to himself. “Me?” He’s now also patting Kirishima consolingly on the back. “Why not Sero? Look at him – he’s dying to be chosen!”

Everyone turns to look at Sero. The long haired boy is absentmindedly scrolling through Tumblr on his phone. Feeling eyes on him, he blinks up at the group in surprise: “What?”

“He’s not even paying attention!” Mina points at Sero accusatorily with the bottle. “Jeez Sero. Leave the circle if you’re not gonna engage.” She turns back to Denki, hands on her hips. “You’re always bragging about what a suave ladies man you are…so why not put your money where your mouth is?”

“Ugh, fiiiiine.” Kamanari groans, making a show of getting to his feet. He stretches catlike before reaching out to grab the bottle. He shuffles slowly to the center of the circle, grumbling all the way. His face gets a bit pale when he realizes that everyone’s eyes are eagerly watching him. Ever the little attention whore, he quickly shakes his nerves off and gives the bottle a gentle spin. It clatters on the floor and turns around lazily a few times, and then seems to gain speed. Weird.

The bottle turns a half dozen times before coming to a complete and utter stop. It’s pointing at Jirou.

Holy shit this is a wild development!!! You reach out and grip Toru’s hand to convey your surprise.  It’s known by almost everyone in the class that Kyoka Jirou and Denki Kaminari have been pining for each other since the start of the year. It’s almost embarrassing how head over heels they are for each other - they bicker almost constantly.

Denki stares between the bottle and Jirou, dumbfounded. His mouth hangs open comically and he makes no effort to shut it.

“Oh my God!” Jiro groans, leaning forward so that her dark bangs cover her eyes. “Really!?”

“Hey!” Denki says, sticking his nose up in the air. “You should be thrilled to get to kiss me! I’m a catch!” Denki stomps over towards her. He’s frowning now, but he keeps walking towards her. He gets to her side of the circle and reaches down a hand to help her up.

“I swear to God if you electrocute me or some shit…” Jirou threatens, grabbing his hand and allowing him to haul her to her feet.

“I have perfect control over my quirk, how dare you imply - ”

“Shut up and kiss already!” Sero calls out, bringing an early end to their bickering. It seems he’s abandoned Tumblr in favor of live entertainment.

“Fine!” Jirou and Kamanari yell at him in unison. They take a moment to glare daggers at Hanta (as if it’s somehow his fault that they’re in this situation) before turning to face each other.

Denki is a bit taller than Jirou, so he has to stoop down a bit as he sidles up into her personal space. You see him gulp down his nerves as he gets in closer to her, steeling himself. He raises a hand to brush her bangs out of her face before leaning in to bestow a gentle kiss on her punk black lipsticked mouth. Jirou closes her eyes and leans into the kiss. You feel your heart tighten at the image of your two friends finally acting on their feelings.

“Finally!” “Let’s go!” “Great job, Chargebolt!” The guys from Class A are all cheering – they’ve been listening to Denki moon over Jirou for the better part of a year. Sero and Kirishima are particularly annoying as they whoop and cheer. You laugh along with the rest of the crowd as the two break apart. You secretly wonder if everyone would cheer if you and Shoto were to kiss in the center of the room.

Jirou flips Sero and Kirishima the bird before stomping out of the circle in her thick combat boots, her face scarlet. She leaves Denki standing dumbfounded in the center of the circle; his face looks like he’s overused his electrification quirk. He weakly gives his friends a thumbs up before chasing after Jirou. You can hear her stomping down and out of the Class A dorm building – she must be headed for the quad.

“Well, looks like our lovebirds have flown the coop.” Mina glides across the floor to collect her bottle once again. “And speaking of birds…Tokoyami, you want to go next?” She turns to where your bird heteromorph classmate is leaning casually against the doorframe as he chats with Momo and Todoroki.

“I’ll have to pass.” Tokoyami says simply, turning back to his conversation. Mina pouts, glancing at Tsu quickly before deciding to move forward with the game.

“Well then why don’t we get someone from Class B in the mix…” She pretends to scan the crowd. You have a feeling you know where this is going, and sure enough… “Monoma, how about you? Want to try your luck with the bottle?”

You have to admit, Monoma is a pretty good actor. If you hadn’t known that this was all part of a greater scheme, you would have honestly believed that he’s surprised when Mina picks him out of the crowd.

“Yeah, Monoma, get up there!” Kosei Tsuburaba from Class B calls out, hyping up his classmate. Pony Tsunotori cheers for him as well. It’s almost funny how, for once, Monoma doesn’t seem to be fueled by his typical unhinged confidence. You almost feel a little bad for him as he wordlessly gets up, clearly trying to shake his nerves.

“What? No bravado about how superior Class B is over Class A?” Mina says somewhat skeptically. It’s clear to you and Toru that she was prepared to put on quite a performance with Monoma at this stage of the game.

There’s a glint in Monoma’s eye as he registers that she’s trying to bait him. His mouth stretches into a smirk as he takes a step towards Mina.

“Of course I’ll prove that Class B is superior at everything.” Monoma lets out a laugh, but it’s not as unhinged as usual. You notice his eyes dart to look at Shinsou as he steps forward. Shinsou is surveying the scene with sleepy eyes, looking almost bored. You wonder if he’s putting on an act as well.

When Mina holds out the bottle to Neito, her smile is genuine. “Yeah, I’d like to see you try.”

Monoma takes the bottle in shaky hands and gathers his nerve. The thick glass makes a resounding clunk when he places it to the ground. He manages to plaster a wobbly grin to his face as he spins it with a flourish. The bottle clatters across the floor, spinning faster than ever before. Everyone cheers as the glass vessel goes round and round, eager to see who will get picked.

You can see Monoma’s jaw twitch nervously as he watches the glass spin, no doubt praying that it will land on a special purple haired hero. You wonder at what the odds could be. There must be over a dozen people sitting on the floor around you…how likely is it that Monoma will get his kiss?

To your astonishment, the bottle finally stops spinning and lands so that it points squarely at Shinsou. Okay, Mina definitely has some explaining to do. This game is absolutely rigged and you have no idea how she’s pulling it off.

An “ooooo” gushes from the crowd of students sitting around the circle and throughout the common area. A few people snicker as Monoma’s face flushes beet red, he seems to be frozen in place. For a moment, you worry that he may pass out. His eyes dart rapidly between the bottle and Hitoshi. He seems stuck, unsure of what to do next.

Shinsou, however, is calm as all hell. He rolls his eyes at the snickers and jibs flowing in from around the circle as he gets to his feet. He walks slowly towards his friend and then turns to address the crowd around them.

“Seriously, guys. Stop being so childish, this is no big deal.” He says in his gravely tone, sharp eyes bouncing around the room before settling on Nieto.

Shinsou abandons his usual s cowl, smiling genuinely at the blonde. “Now come here.”

Hitoshi doesn’t need to use his voice quirk to get Nieto to step towards him, almost dreamlike. Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the scene – Hitoshi looking at Nieto adoringly in front of the crowd as he slips his hand under Monoma’s chin and brings their lips together. The students around you cheer, unruly.

Shinsou closes his eyes and winds his other hand around the nape of Monoma’s neck, bringing the blonde even closer. Monoma’s eyes are wide and unbelieving, but after a moment they slip close as he looses himself in the bliss of kissing his best friend. The whole room cheers and wolf whistles, but the two boys are seemingly in their own world. Shinsou kisses him again and again and again with no sign of letting up, turning the simple kiss into a full on make out session. Classes A and B are now absolutely rioting, and Shinsou takes a page out of Jirou’s book, lifting his hand to flip them all the bird as he slips his tongue into Monoma’s mouth.

“Alright you too – get a room! You’re allotted kiss time is up!” Mina calls out, tossing a throw pillow at the interlocked couple with precision. “And I said no tongue in the rules! Jeez!” They break apart in surprise and Shinsou spares her a glare over his shoulder before walking casually back into his seat. Monoma still looks like he might pass out, glancing around at them all nervously with a punch drunk expression. His eyes are unfocused and for once he’s blissfully silent. He makes his way back to his seat on wobbly legs, sinking into the floor next to Shinsou. Shinsou avoids eye contact with his friend, but throws an arm around his shoulders, holding him close.

Mina tries to spare their new friend some embarrassment and calls the attention back to herself. “Okay everyone, who’s next? Let me see…” She grabs the bottle and points it around the circle as if discerning the next player via witchcraft.

“Oh Tokoyamiiiii!” She sings as she once again catches the eye of Tokoyami. Damn girl is persistent. If it were possible for him to blush, his face would be bright red right now.

Tokoyami looks alarmed as Mina points directly at him. Dark Shadow on the other hand looks delighted. Tokoyami bats Dark Shadow’s pleading face away from him as he responds, “As I said before, I am perfectly content sitting this out.”

“Aw, Tokoyami…I insist! It’s just one little smooch from one of our fine classmates! Everyone here is so hot, you truly cannot lose.” Mina bats her eyes at him.

“Mina…” You whisper shout at her. “Mina don’t push anyone to do this. It’s challenge by choice, remember?”

Mina nods in your direction but continues to poke at Tokoyami. “Dark Shadow seems interested! Why not just take a chance?” She wedels.

“Can we please, Fumikage?” Dark Shadow says hopefully. “I want us to join the game!”

Apparently Dark Shadow’s opinion holds a lot of weight here, becauseTokoyami finally sighs in resignation. He hangs his head low as he holds out a hand, palm open and waiting for the bottle.

“Yay!” Mina skips over and pulls him to the center of the circle, placing the large bottle squarely in his hand. She slinks back to the sidelines, watching eagerly as Tokoyami considers the bottle in his palm.

Dark Shadow buzzes exuberantly as he hovers over your classmate’s shoulder. The pair stares intently at the bottle as Tokoyami gives it a gentle spin. The crowd looks on silently, and you can hear the quiet scrape of the glass against the floor as it spins end over end. He closes his eyes, waiting to hear the bottle roll to a stop so he can meet his fate.

The glass slows to a stop, lurching a bit and rolling across the circle to point at Tsuyu Asui. Everyone gasps appreciatively and Tsu just lets out a feeble “Ribbit?”

“Ooo Tsu! You’ve been chosen!” Ochaco cheers loudest of all as she pushes Tsu up to stand. “Go on!”

Tokoyami cracks open an eye and stares at the bottle, and then at Tsu. Dark Shadow makes a squawky cheering noise and smiles widely. Meanwhile, the bird hero is standing rigid, arms glued to his sides as he steels himself for what’s to come.

The crowd claps enthusiastically as Tsu walks slowly to the center of the circle. She doesn’t look uncomfortable with all the attention – if anything, she’s looking a little intrigued. Tsu is always a steady, calming presence in your class. Tokoyami takes a few wary steps towards her, becoming more comfortable the closer he gets to her. They stand a foot apart, staring at each other.

“Well this certainly is interesting, ribbit. I honestly wasn’t planning to participate tonight.” She looks up at him with her wide froggy eyes and tilts her head to the side, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“I feel the same. I really wasn’t planning to be involved with this coming of age nonsense.” He sighs, glancing at Dark Shadow who’s hovering excitedly over his right shoulder. “But since it is you, I gladly accept my fate. I hold you in very high regard.”

Tsu lets out a sweet little “ribbit” and blushes. She’s wearing a cute green t-shirt and wide-legged jeans – overall she’s downright adorable. You’re certain that Tokoyami agrees, because Dark Shadow is staring at Tsu with heart eyes.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Tokoyami?” She asks, shuffling closer to him. Dark Shadow is practically vibrating with excitement overhead, hands over his mouth to keep from babbling at them.

“Yes. I find the terms of the game agreeable.” Tokoyami says, serious as ever. “Let’s do this.”

“Go on Tsu!” Ochaco calls out, clearly still tipsy off of her tiny cup of alcohol. “Kiss him!”

Tsu stands up on her toes and plants a virtuous smooch on Tokoyami’s beak. It’s swift and sweet and causes everyone to let out a little “awwww!”  Tsu really is the cutest with her wide eyes and sweet smile.

Tsu blushes, Tokoyami looks frozen in place, and Dark Shadow cheers loudly over the din.

You start to wonder who has the bigger crush on Tsu here…Tokoyami or Dark Shadow? After a moment Tokoyami shakes his head a bit as if to clear out some cobwebs. He nods curtly to Tsu and mutters a barely audible “thank you,” causing her to blush more brightly.

Your eyes survey the crowed and everyone looks to be in good spirits, exciting to see their friends having fun in the game. The only one who looks out of place is – surprisingly – Kirishima. He’s got his arms crossed and is glaring at Mina, who’s waving to him flirtily from across the circle as she stands to scoop up the glass bottle. Huh. That can’t be good.

Your attention is drawn away from your red headed classmate as you watch Tokoyami and Tsu clear the center of the circle and return to their spots. Everyone continues to applaud until they resume their places – Tsu sitting next to Ochaco, Tokoyami returning to leaning against the doorway.

“Alright, now that was a truly thrilling pairing! Let’s see who we have next!” Mina surveys the crowd, searching through the upturned faces for her next victim. Finally, her dark eyes seem to land on who she was looking for because she instantly lights up. Her mouth settles into a wicked smile as she zeroes in on her prey.

“Ah, Todoroki! You’re up!” She calls out, pointing at him with the thick bottle. The room goes unexpectedly silent and Shoto looks at her with surprise. He’s not even sitting in the circle. He stands halfway between Momo and Tokoyami, clearly in the middle of a conversation with the former.

Shoto looks around, confused. As his head swivels around to survey the room full of watching faces, his sunglasses slip off of his head and fall to the ground. He reaches down to scoop them from the floor before hastily stuffing them into his back pocket. He looks both bewildered and lost.

“But I’m not in the circle.” He says blankly, blinking at her with Mina uncomprehendingly.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m tapping you in!” Mina says cheerfully, beckoning him to take her place. “I know your upbringing was a little unconventional given that your dad is the Number 2 hero, so we’ve gotta make up for lost time. You can’t miss out on this youthful right of passage!”

Shoto looks overwhelmed and doesn’t seem to know how to say no. He awkwardly shuffles to take Mina’s place in the center of the crowd. Your blood runs cold. For some reason you didn’t even consider the possibility of Shoto participating in Spin The Bottle. You figured he’d watch from the outskirts or be off chatting with some of your classmates. But now here he is – the unexpected center of attention in an outfit that makes him look like an absolute snack.

You glance around and see that most of the women on the room are gazing appreciatively at Shoto’s outfit as well. He’s absolutely beautiful – the way his pants support his round ass, the way his soft shirt stretches across the swell of his chest muscles. You wish you could claim him somehow…cover him in hickies or walk past him and muss up his hair. If only you could wrap your arms around him in front of everyone…you’re longing to do anything to declare him “mine!” resoundingly.

But that’s not how this works. And that’s not how this story gets to go.

All you can do is sit back on your heels and watch as Shoto spins the bottle.

Oh please pick me! Is all you can think, as he holds up the bottle in his delicate grasp. You pray and you beg and you bargain with the Spin the Bottle gods – hoping for some token of favor to be thrown your way. You can tell he’s trying not to glance your way as he sets the bottle in the center of the circle and gives it a rough spin.

The bottle turns around and around, the sound of rolling glass reverberating through the silent common room as it twists on the hardwood floor. Everyone seems to collectively hold their breath. Shoto might be the most attractive person in the hero course – all aristocratic breeding and soft hair. Who’s going to have the honor of kissing this demigod!?

When the bottle finally rolls to a stop, you can’t believe your eyes. For a brief moment, your heart swells when you think you’ve been chosen. But then your excitement quickly dissipates when you realize the bottle is pointing slightly to your right. Everyone’s head snaps up to see that it’s pointing at Fumiko Fujita, the girl from the General Studies Course.

Oh, crap.

“Oh!” She says nervously, a giggle bubbling up in her throat as she turns to look at Shoto through long eyelashes. You try not to glare daggers at her – she has absolutely no idea that you’ve been hooking up with Shoto. Also she’s nice! You had enjoyed her company so much earlier, and you can’t let yourself hate her for something out of her control. You can’t blame her for coincidentally being chosen as his spin the bottle partner!

But at the same time…the bottle was so close to pointing at you! You feel a deep ache at the unfairness of it all. Had the bottle listed a few centimeters in the other direction, it could have been you. It would have been a cosmic sign that the two of you were meant to be together, the Spin The Bottle gods covering you and Shoto in their favor. But unfortunately, that’s not how this is going to play out.

You want to reach for Shoto, to tell him that you very much do not want him kissing this girl! You bite your lip hard to keep yourself from saying something you might regret.

You take a few calming breaths and try to let it go, but the way she’s looking so pleased with herself is making you absolutely furious. She’s got an adorable blush spreading across her cheeks and she’s pulling at her light pink sweater sleeve absentmindedly, embarrassed.

Shoto stares at her blankly before turning to Mina. You can see that he’s silently begging her with his eyes to intervene. She shrugs and tilts her head at the General Studies Course girl, motioning for him to get it over with and just kiss her. Begrudgingly, he gets to his feet and shuffles towards her. You’re both pleased and annoyed to see that many of the other girls around the room are fixing Fujita girl with baleful gazes, no doubt envious of her position. 

Shoto leans down, holding out a hand for the girl to take. She accepts his help, letting him delicately pull her to her feet. She can’t help the way that she’s smiling ear to ear as she stares down at her dainty hand in his.

Shoto stands a full head taller than Fujita. She looks so petite and delicate next to his muscled Pro-Hero body. For a moment you feel self-conscious about the bulky muscles you’ve been working to build up in the hero course. Next to this tiny General Studies Course girl, you must look like a hulking beast of mass. She’s so girly and sweet looking, and it’s not lost on you how good she looks with Shoto. It’s clear to everyone in the room that they would make an attractive couple.

Shoto glances quickly in your direction, but you doubt anyone else has noticed. They’re all to focused on this newcomer – no doubt wondering what her deal is and if she has a shot with Shoto.

“Are you alright with this?” Shoto asks her softly, and the girls around the room giggle at the sweetness of it. You note that he hasn’t dropped her hand, her tiny manicured fingers are encased in his strong grip. You zero in on her manicure – her nails are a deep navy blue. Coincidentally…one of Shoto’s favorite colors. Her nails match his stupid hot sweater.

“Yeah.” She says breathlessly, looking away before focusing her eyes on his lips. She uses her free hand to twist a lock of her hair around her fingers nervously. You practically roll your eyes, this girl really is pulling out all the stops. She’s a walking fuckin’ cliché.

“Okay.” Shoto whispers. He leans down slowly to plant a soft kiss on her mouth. She cranes up her neck to meet him halfway, moving to her tiptoes so she can attempt to match his height. The kiss is chaste and only lasts a few seconds before Shoto pulls away. He drops the girl’s hand and makes a hasty retreat to the other side of the room. Despite the briefness of the interaction, Todoroki’s tender approach has left all the ladies swooning.

Even Kirishima is impressed, whispering “So manly!” under his breath. You laugh at this despite yourself, and watch as Shoto rejoins Momo and Tokoyami outside of the circle. The girl from General Studies retakes her seat, and babbles dreamily to Toru. The invisible girl is buzzing with excitement, nodding and waving her arms encouragingly as Fujita gushes about her big kiss with Todoroki.

There’s a strange mix of emotions rolling in your gut – jealousy of the girl Shoto got to kiss publically, gratitude that he kept it short. You wish that he would have just kissed her on the cheek. You know that if he had kept it simple, Mina and the crowd definitely would have pressured him into doing more. You have a sour taste in your mouth about the game now – the pressure and the stakes seem so high for something meant to be fun and silly.

You shoot a jealous look at Fujita. You wish that you could be gushing right now to everyone about how wonderful and hot Shoto Todoroki is. You want everyone to know that he’s shared your bed and held you, that you two have been intimately entangled. You want to brag and blush and make the Support Course girl as jealous of you as you currently are of her.

You wonder what Shoto is thinking, how he’s feeling. You look over at him and your eyes meet across the room, a chasm between you. You want to run over to him and ask for reassurance – are you a better kisser? Did he enjoy it with her? He’d rather be with you, right? But obviously you stay where you are. His face is impassive as usual; he tilts his head to consider you before he turns back to his conversation. You notice the sunglasses poking out of his back pocket, forgotten.

Everyone has resumed chatting and there’s a steady hum of babble in the room. The room is buzzing with excitement and giggles about game. Your classmates are eyeing Mina eagerly, wondering who will be up next.

You glance up at Mina who is sitting beside you. You become startled when you realize that she’s staring at you with a funny look on her face. She reaches over to grab your arm. “Hey, Y/N. You okay!?” She takes in your stony expression and shakes you for a moment.

“Wha - ? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Dang this game is a rollercoaster.” Your expression turns stormy as you remember the way she pushed Tokoyami and Shoto to participate against their wishes. “But don’t push people so hard – this is supposed to be fun. You can’t force people to do whatever you want.” You scold.

She shrugs and gives you a knowing half smile. “Sometimes people need a little push!” She starts to notice the room getting quieter as everyone waits for her to call out the next participant. “Speaking of which…you’re next!”

You look up in surprise as the crowd around you cheers and starts to chant your name encouragingly. Mina scoops up the bottle off the floor and holds it out to you expectantly.

��Come on, Y/N!”

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Your friends chant around you.

You can practically feel Shoto’s gaze burning into your back as you stare down that problematic glass bottle.

Shit.

End of Chapter 7

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Links To All The Previous Parts:

Part 1: Linked Here

Part 2: Linked Here

Part 3: Linked Here

Part 4: Linked Here

Part 5: Linked Here

Part 6: Linked Here

My Master List

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Author Notes:

It's me! Hi! I'm the author, it's me!

Yesssss sir we're so back!

I'm gonna be honest, I hope that people aren't disappointed with the lack of smut in this chapter! I promise that the world/plot building will absolutely DELIVER in Chapter 8 with a steamy scene - trust meeee ;)

What I want you to take away from this chapter as a reader - this story is about relationships and connection. I think this chap shows that friendships can come from the unlikeliest of places! Like Monoma is fully integrated into the gal squad - who would have expected that!? We're also starting to see some different sides of characters come to light - we see a more toxic side of Mina, we see Shoto becoming more comfortable and soft with the Reader, we also see Hitoshi become more confident among his peer group and show affection towards Monoma. I plan to build on these tiny developments in the next chapter or so!

I also hope y'all enjoyed the little cameos from other UA characters and ships. Tokoyami x Tsu isn't really a ship of mine but I thought it could be a fun little moment for the chat. (I LOVE Dark Shadow so honestly this bit was all for HIM).

Also please please PLEASE can someone set their Wifi name to be EijirosThiccBootyCheeks. I swear I would SCREAM.

I have most of Chapter 8 planned out so hoping to turn things around a little faster this time!

Stay safe and enjoy the holidays!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

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❄️🔥THE ICYTHOTS🔥❄️

Want to join or be removed from the tag list - let me know! Once again, this is an ADULT ONLY blog. The IcyThot club is exclusively dedicated to the Shoto's First Kiss series and will only include A18+. Do not request to be added unless you are over 18. If your blog is ageless/your age isn't listed in the bio you cannot be an IcyThot member! I'm also adding the "sexual content" label/tags.

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[astra-ravana]

Types Of Fae

The realm of the Fae is vast and diverse, with countless variations across different cultures and mythologies. Here's a comprehensive list of some of the most common types of faeries, along with additional details about their characteristics and folklore. This is by no means a complete list, but it should give you a pretty good idea of the types of faeries that exist.

• Brownies: These helpful household spirits are often depicted as small, wiry creatures with long ears. They are known for their industrious nature, performing chores like cleaning, cooking, and tending to livestock. However, they can also be quite mischievous, playing pranks on those who neglect their needs.

• Pixies: Small and playful, pixies are known for their love of mischief and pranks. They are often associated with the air and are said to inhabit trees, flowers, and other natural wonders.

• Puca: A Celtic spirit and shape-shifter that can take various forms, including horses, rabbits, goats, and humans. It’s also known as Puck in English Folklore, is sometimes believed to use the light of Will o’ the Wisp to lure people into swamps or ditches and then flee with delight.

• Leprechauns: These Irish faeries are best known for their love of treasure and their skill in making shoes. They are often depicted as solitary figures, guarding their pots of gold at the end of rainbows.

• Sprites: Tiny nature spirits, sprites are often associated with specific locations, such as forests, rivers, or mountains. They are known for their playful nature and their ability to bring good luck or misfortune.

• Nymphs: Beautiful female spirits, nymphs are associated with specific natural elements, such as water, forests, or mountains. They are often depicted as graceful and alluring, with a deep connection to the natural world.

• Sylphs: Air spirits, sylphs are often depicted as ethereal beings, capable of flying and moving with the wind. They are associated with the sky and are often seen as messengers between the earthly and spiritual realms.

• Salamanders: Salamanders are a type of elemental spirit commonly associated with fire. Some people insist they are little balls of light, but during the Middle Ages, many claimed they were lizard-like in appearance. Alternatively, Salamanders are sometimes described as slender, red, and dry-skinned creatures with a malevolent demeanor.

• Undines: Water spirits, undines are associated with lakes, rivers, and oceans. They are often depicted as beautiful, aquatic beings, with a strong connection to the emotional and spiritual depths of water.

• Gnomes: Earth spirits, gnomes are often depicted as short, bearded creatures, with a deep connection to the earth. They are associated with mining, gardening, and other earth-related activities.

• Elves: Often depicted as tall, elegant beings with pointed ears, elves are associated with nature, magic, and wisdom. They are often divided into two categories: the light elves, who are associated with beauty, grace, and harmony; and the dark elves, who are associated with darkness, magic, and secrecy.

• Goblins: Mischievous creatures, goblins are often associated with underground realms. They are known for their love of treasure, their skill in crafting, and their tendency to play tricks on humans.

• Boggarts: Household spirits, boggarts can be either helpful or harmful, depending on how they are treated. They are often associated with specific objects or locations, and they can cause mischief if they are neglected or mistreated.

• Banshees: Irish female spirits, banshees are associated with death and are often heard wailing or keening to announce the impending death of a family member.

• Cat Sidhe: Celtic legend says cat siths appear as large black cats with a white spot on their chest. These mischievous faeries were said to be able to steal the souls of the deceased.

• Leanan Sidhe: Leanan Sidhe often seduce and help people with creative abilities like poets, artists, or musicians. They are gorgeous and fascinating to their lovers but entirely invisible to their lover’s friends and family.

• Spriggans: Cornish faeries, spriggans are known for their mischievous and sometimes malevolent nature.

• Kelpies: In Scottish folklore, kelpies are dangerous water creatures that can appear on land as horses. They lure human victims to ride on their backs, then carry them to their deaths.

• Red Caps: Blood soaked and bloodthirsty, red caps are among some of the most formidable faeries. They are known for their strength, agility, and violent nature.

• Mermaids: These water spirits have been linked to sorrow and destruction in modern and ancient folklore, while they can also be compassionate. When rescued or saved, they have provided the wisdom of natural remedies for deadly illnesses, lavish gifts, and storm advisories.

• Changelings: Trickster faeries, changelings are known for kidnapping human children and leaving a faerie in its place.

• Piskies: Piskies are often playful and mischievous, but they can also be helpful to those who treat them with respect.

• Knockers: Knockers are associated with mines and mining. They are often heard knocking on the walls of mines to warn miners of danger.

• Dullahan: The headless horseman of Irish folklore, these faeries can remove their own heads at a whim. Said to bring terror and catastrophe wherever they go.

• Lady of the Lake: A mysterious water faerie that guards lakes and ponds, keeping them pure and clean.

• Dryads: Dryads live in and protect trees. You can often find them chatting with their trees. Considered peaceful, unless you mean harm towards the forest.

• Gean-Canach: Their name literally translates to ‘Love Talker’ and refers to faeries known for their ability to be alluring or enchanting with their voices. They often smoke clay pipes.

• Kobolds: Kobolds (sometimes called Cobolts or Koboldts) originate from Germanic folklore and act similarly to the English Brownie. They are house faeries and can act very mischievous if forgotten.

• Selkie: Originating from Orkney and United Kingdom folklore, a Selkie is a gentle water spirit believed to live in the sea as a seal, but once on land, they fully assume human form.

• Trows: Trows are a type of Troll from the Orkney and Shetland Islands who are sometimes called Drows. Generally, all Trows kidnap humans, but they value young mothers and newborns most of all.

• Will O’ The Wisp: Sometimes known as Jack-o’-lantern, they are a type of Fae pixie believed to inhabit the marshes and bogs of England. Will O’Wisps are nature spirits that inhabit the elements of the earth. The name Will o’ the Wisp is derived from the Saxon word wile which means trickery or deceitfulness combined with the Swedish word Wisp, meaning a bundle of tinder.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Love You Teacher looks good, actually, and too many people are just jumping to conclusions.

Nowhere in the trailer does it suggest age-regression kink play, only a traumatic response exaggerated for dramatic purposes that, by all indications, inhibits the established couple’s sex life. (Let it be known, though, sexual exploration between consenting adults is chill.)

More casual age regressive tendencies is kind of the norm in relationships, and y’all y-series fans love it. There are so many edits with one part of couple acting cutesy and being taken care of by their supposed faen. ‘Baby’ is a common endearment for a reason! When we’re in relationships, we pout, we act more cutesy, more vulnerable. Love You Teacher looks to be dramatizing this element to spark conversations about balance, mental heath, and care, both for one’s self and in relationships.

This isn’t some weird romance trope that BL’s pulling from the shady corners of the internet cuz it’s kinkier than het romances. Traumatic regression that leaves one partner simple-minded to some extent has been a part of some really silly and also some really profound Western movies. You’ve got dubious films like Big with Tom Hanks or Adam Sandler’s approaches, but Elf, Thirteen Going on Thirty, or even something more indie like Lars and the Real Girl, with a young Ryan Gosling, (P’Dome seems to be a bit of a cinephile so I wouldn’t put it past him as a reference point) reveal the sweet sincerity that can emerge when these kinds of stories are done conscientiously.

Perth and Santa seem beautifully cast in this. Both have worked in BL for some time now (just with other companies—check out baby Perth in UWMA!) and are listed as one of three leads in Perfect 10Liners, so they accusations of them jumping the seniority queue are a bit misplaced. Even if that were the case, that point would be moot after what they delivered in the mock trailer.

Santa’s adorable energy finds great use in both the role of the ideal primary school teacher and the character’s reverted 7 year-old mental state, and it lends itself as a response to actor Barcode’s recent complaint regarding the infantilization and limited mature roles for those who are established as a like in a partnership. I’m excited for the industry to address and push for conversations and roles that allow these actors to age. Sometimes that means letting them take on gritty characters that we might ignorantly assume are against type, but it could also acknowledge the youthful energy some of these actors and plenty of people in the world take into their adulthoods that shape their life. A kindergarten teacher is a prime example of job that attracts that kind of person!

I could not have imagined a character that used Perth’s disposition, simultaneously aloof and warm, so well. A teacher too-cool-for-school with no passion except for his partner? There’s our aloof guitar playing boy. Who must learn to roll with the punches of life and laugh at how ridiculous and precious it is? And there’s our warm cuddly teddybear.

The chemistry between the two in the trailer was eye-opening, too. They appeared spontaneous and familiar with one another, easily conveying live-in boyfriends in love. Even most of the naysayers for the show, admitted their initial excitement for the pairing’s intimacy. If the show plays well, it ought to be breakout success for both of them.

Give me ALL the Sammy. Everyday. Girl has been shining since BL day one (the og Love Sick, baby)!

The colors! This show looks lovely and lively. The primary school wall decorations. The costumes. The face paint in the trailer is so cute! Sammy’s hair color is genius! It just has so much vibrancy during a presentation when multiple dark, brooding shows were announced.

Director P’Dome has earned my trust. Peaceful Property was quirky, intricately plotted, and endlessly compassionate. I was crying almost every weak! I’m not surprised in the slightest to see him with a show like this. The premise of Love You Teacher is a bit out there, a bit provocative, and has the potential to have such a huge heart. The closest comparison tonally in GMMTV’s history I’ve seen so far is with the work TayNew did right before PP, Cherry Magic! Let me tell you about the boxes of tissues my happy tears went through for that series!

Basically, Imma be fighting tooth and nail for this show until it actually offers a reason for me to not support it. With what we received in the trailer, Love You Teacher has revealed only green flags, gold star stickers, and A pluses!

[aquadestinyswriting]

Happy STS! My question is: Do you have a trope that always (or almost always) appears in your stories? Why that trope?

Hi there, thank you for the ask. I sincerely apologise for taking so long to answer this as it's one of my favourite types of question.

The biggest trope that comes up in every piece of writing I do for all my series is definitely Found Family. This is almost entirely down to these series amounting to what is basically fanfic of a D&D campaign. Forging a family out of those people you spend your time adventuring with is a common staple of that genre and it makes sense to bring that into my writing.

Another trope that nearly always comes up is Angst and Lots of It. This is usually a result of all the trauma that the characters go through and the poor mental health that results from that. I'm a whumper at heart, and I love nothing more than exploring the trauma that results from the events that happen during high fantasy adventure shenanigans. It also helps that the original GM for the campaign I write about was extremely talented at creating events that were legitimately traumatising both for the characters and the players at the table.

[sincraft]

I wonder if Dakota knows that Heat Waves is a point of discussion in someone’s master thesis

I hope they’re doing well

[izzymakesachange]

I work at a coffee shop and besides regular customers always sticking to their one specific order regardless of weather…today we had a lot of orders for hot drinks despite being in a heatwave. Quite a bit of orders for extra hot too…so curious to what others feel about this.

Like it’s always a joke about iced drinks in winter but I feel like you don’t hear about hot drinks in summer as often.

Guess I could title this also as : “Does the temperature impacted your drink order?”

[great-and-small]

Bird identification is so fucked up in a really fun way you can’t understand until you get into it. For example, there is a type of goose called the cackling goose that looks exactly like a Canada goose except smaller and “cuter”. The cackling goose is way, way, more rare in most places than its relatively common cousin, so it’s on tons of birders life lists. Everyone wants to see a cackling (look in any bird ID group to see lots of hopeful people posting petite Canada geese). The two species regularly commingle, so sometimes a flock of those common parking lot birds will have the equivalent of a Pokémon shiny just hanging out in the middle of them.

How ridiculous and fun is that? I can never look at a big group of Canada geese without scrutinizing their ranks for an adorable little extremely rare cutie pie cackling goose. It reminds me a bit of mushroom harvesting minus the risk of death if you get it wrong

[aashiqui-aashiqui]

by the way when i say other cricketers i mostly mean the english players and no offence but i do not get what people see in them…like i know theres english people on here who obviously are gonna post about their own team but like i refuse to believe those players are that interesting

[eraenaa]

Silent Passions

Aemond Targaryen x Tyrell Reader Tag List

Synopsis: You and Aemond had been promised to one another before you were even born. And when the time came for you to meet, all were curious to see what was to come when soon to be spouses only shared one thing in common: your want of silence. 

Warnings: Unwanted sexual advances from Daemon Targaryen, ¿Softer Aemond?, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Not Proof Read

Word Count: 8,678 (bear with me pls)

A/N: Based on a request where they wanted "Aemond x Tyrell Reader (which has the personality of Francesca Bridgerton), and when they are about to get married, Daemon tries to seduce her, making Aemond distrust her."

A flower promised to a dragon. Long before you were born, you, a daughter of House Tyrell, had been the intended to be wed to the second son of the King, Prince Aemond Targaryen. Your mother was one of the scarce friends the Queen had made in the court after her estrangement with Princess Rhaenyra. You were born in the walls of the keep, the queen in attendance of your birth, smiling widely as the nurse announced that you were a girl— she was the first person to hold you after your mother and the wet nurse who handed you to her. “Oh, such a beauty she is…” The Queen cooed as she held you in her arms. Your mother smiled through her tiredness at how quickly the queen had taken to you. 

“She would make the most wonderful princess,” The queen sighed and returned you to your mother, turning her head towards the door where your promised groom already stood. Prince Aemond waddled to his mother. The boy was only two years old but was already meeting his intended. The queen took her son into her arms, lifting him up to see his future bride, who whined in her mother’s arms. Aemond furrowed his brows, stuck out his tongue, and made a noise of disapproval when he saw the pink-faced babe. “That’s not quite nice… show respect for your future wife,” The queen smiled and brushed the silvery locks of her son. 

That was the first and last time you and the prince met. Your mother and father returned to Highgarden as their stay in court was cut short with your father needing to return to his seat. For the first six and ten years of your life, you were promised to a man you have never met. Bearing the plight of women before you, promised to a man, not because of your will or your love for him but merely for status and to appease those who stood on high stature. You were defenseless as they paved your life before you, forcing you down a road that was often traveled by but many did not wish to cross. 

“We are to return to Kingslanding.” Your father suddenly announced. The dinner table went silent. The boisterous laughs and jests of your three older brothers and the babbles of your younger twin brother and sister growing hushed. “Why?” You asked quietly, breaking the silence. You pet the fur of your beloved feline, trying to calm your nerves as your mind brought forth a reason. “The queen requested our presence, dearest… it is time to meet your betrothed.” Your mother smiled and took hold of your hand, lightly squeezing it in comfort, thought you felt none. You lowered your gaze and tried to shut out the return of loud voices around the table. 

It was not that it was unexpected… it was just… wholly overwhelming. You took a few moments and a few more bites of your supper before excusing yourself from the loud table, needing peace and quiet. “Are you well, sister?” Your oldest brother, Edward, asked in concern, pausing his conversation with your other brothers, Edgar and Edmund. “Yes, I’m just tired.” You said with a small smile and left the dinner table with your pet. 

The matter of your betrothal with the prince was not at all an old matter. Ever since you were a child, they have instilled in your mind that you were Prince Aemond’s intended. That one day, you will be his bride. It was a subject you found troubling— for how can one live at ease, being promised to a man they had never met before? How could one truly live their life if their purpose is only to be married off— treated practically as a broodmare. 

 You were alone with your thoughts until you heard the faint knock on your door and your brother, Edmund, slowly opening it and peeking his head inside your chambers. “Yes?” You asked and sat straighter, removing your eyes from the fire you stared upon. 

“I am just making certain that you’re well.” He said softly and fully opened your chamber door, stepping in and bringing you a piece of cake for you had missed the dessert portion of your dinner. “Thank you,” You say gratefully, but simply place the piece of your favorite dessert on the table beside you, making your brother quickly grow suspicious. “What’s wrong?” Edmund asked in concern, taking his seat beside you. 

You gave him a forced smile and shook your head. “Nothing, I told you, I’m just tired.” You say softly, but your brother’s frown severed. “You’re clearly lying— no matter how tired you are, you always have energy for cake.” Your brother sighed, making you sigh as well. “I’m… I’m scared,” You admitted. Your brother nodded in understanding, “I would be surprised if you weren’t,” 

You twiddled with the ends of your hair as you and your brother were enveloped in a heavy, suffocating silence. “It’s just— I have been prepared for this since I was a babe… It’s all I know, but at the same time, I know nothing. I have no idea about him. What my life would be like after our marriage.” You say, your voice trembling with fear. “And I have been hearing rumors…” you say cautiously, your eyes upon your pet, who slept soundly on your lap.  “Rumors? You are never one to listen to rumors, "Your brother said in surprise; his sister was always indifferent to whispers and gossip. 

“Last summer, our cousin Eliza had gone to court… and there she observed Prince Aemond for me. To report to me what he was like because I had no idea of my future husband,” You began to recount the favor your cousin had done for you to ease your nerves about the marriage. “And?” Your brother leaned closer in curiosity. “She said he was… cold, aloof. Standoffish— ruthless when training with his sword. Indifferent, bordering into insulting to all members of the court.” You say quietly, uttering the harbored fear of your betrothed for almost a year now. Edmund licked his lips; your cousin Eliza was never one to exaggerate. 

“P—Perhaps it was just that summer… mayhap he has changed with the season,” Your brother tried to give a comforting smile, but it turned wary, neither of you believing his comforting but empty words. “I’m sorry, sister,” Your brother said quietly after a moment, looking at you with empathy. He also wondered how you would fare when married to a dragon prince and being a member of the den of vipers that was the court. 

You had always been timid, quiet, demure. He had always been skeptical of this betrothal set between you and the prince. He recalled how your father wanted to contest it, to break off the betrothal in your adolescence, seeing that his daughter was too soft for the harshness of royalty, but your mother did not wish for it, scared that it would offend her friend, the queen. 

“I don’t expect much from the marriage,” You spoke, “I… I only wish for him to be kind and perhaps grant me my solitude from time to time,” You added, and your brother nodded, “We shall see to it that you have it, sister. If we are to prove that the prince is ungallant or disagreeable, we shall convince Mother and Father to free you from him,” Your brother swore, and you gave him a sad smile, unconvinced by his promise but touched by the gesture of it. 

Edmund left his sister to the quiet she reveled and needed; Edmund marched in search of his other brothers. “She’s scared,” He announced as he found them in the drawing room; Edward, the eldest of them, lifted his gaze, “Who wouldn’t be?” He asked rhetorically as he sipped on his wine. “Are we truly that indebted to the crown? That we must oblige them with our dear sister?” Edgar questioned, “We are not indebted; our mother is,” Edgar replied. Your mother is forever grateful for her friend, the queen, who had shown her kindness during her time in court as a girl. She was greatly looked down upon, her father’s house inconsequential to the realm and often seen as a burden— through her friendship with Queen Alicent, she had risen through the ranks and had even secured a match with the heir of Highgarden. 

“Well, surely our sister is too great a price for this… emotional debt, especially when you consider the others who had wished to be her suitor, princes from Dorne and Essos who had sung her praises and showered her gifts for years. Yet they will force her to settle for a second son. She has not even met him! Not a letter or a token to show goodwill to his betrothed,” Edward sighed at his brother’s query. “What would you have us do?” Edgar asked, “I do not know… but if Prince Aemond is truly as harsh and tempestuous as Eliza and the realm says, we must convince them to break the betrothal.” Edmund was contented as his brothers agreed, all concerned for your marriage with a prince you had not even met yet. 

“Is all these frills truly necessary?” Aemond grumbled as he was being fitted for new garments, suffering through the needed preparations to meet his betrothed. “Yes. We cannot have you wear faded attire that reeks of dragon when you meet your betrothed. And I implore you to be kind and good-humored, Aemond. You must not scare off your wife,” Alicent sighed and nodded as the tailor bowed and finished taking the prince’s measurements. “She is not my wife,” Aemond gritted, “She is not your wife yet,” Alicent corrected, and Aemond shook his head. The dread in him was multiplying by the day. He was fortunate enough that his mother had not forced him to meet his betrothed years before, convincing himself that perhaps she had changed her mind and the betrothal could be broken, but alas, the fateful day to meet you has arrived. 

Aemond had not met you nor heard anything from you. He would think it common courtesy for you to send him at least a letter, to know him before this doomed marriage, but you had sent none— no introduction or anything. He did, however, hear talk about you, the bloomed beauty of the reach. A lady who was already betrothed the moment she was born but was still lined up by men who hoped to be her suitor. Aemond scoffed at the thought, perceiving you as promiscuous and maybe even defiled. Aemond met your cousin last summer, the lady Eliza, loud and not at all chaste. A shameless flirt who went around the castle and made a spectacle of herself, she was not you, but Aemond liked to believe that that is how you acted as well. 

Aemond tried to calm himself, to take his thoughts away from your arrival, but it would seem the castle was a growing reminder of you. He walked passed the great hall that was being dressed up for your family’s arrival. He passed the gardens where gardeners had been tending to flowers that were neglected, fretting that your family would take the wilted flowers as an offense. Aemond shook his head and walked through the guest wing, and saw how your chambers were being prepared. Aemond gritted his jaw and decided to retire early that day, but it would seem even the royal wing of the castle was being dressed up for your arrival. He frowned as he passed a once-boarded-up room being cleaned, “Who is to stay here?” Aemond asked a maid, believing his mother would place you in a chamber that was only a few steps from his own, a rather scandalous decision. 

“The prince Daemon, my prince, the hand says he is to stay for the moon,” A maid bowed, and Aemond furrowed his brow before giving a nod to dismiss the maid, and he walked off to his chambers; it would seem that it was not only your arrival he must worry about, he must worry about the arrival of his uncle as well. 

After five days of travel, you and the whole of your family arrived in Kingslanding. You took deep breaths before exiting the carriage, your kin being welcomed by a row of knights along with the Queen and her children. You could not even bear to look at anyone but the queen, scared to let your gaze travel to your betrothed. Your brothers stood by your side, offering support as all three pairs of their eyes assessed the prince, who had a look of disinterest. Edmund turned to his brothers, trying to see if they as well felt the animosity from the one-eyed prince that was easily felt. Through their eyes, they communicated silently and agreed. 

You straightened your back as you felt the Queen’s gaze upon you; only then did you raise your raise your gaze fully and presented her with a pretend smile. “My queen,” You curtsied lowly in respect; Queen Alicent smiled fondly and offered her compliments. The  queen bemused for her son to have such a comely wife. She turned to her side as she felt Aemond had still not stepped forward or had taken the initiative to introduce himself. 

Aemond sighed as he stepped forward and stiffly, almost reluctantly, bowed before you. He was staring at the skirts of your dress, refusing to look upon your face. He watched as the fabric moved as you curtsied before him. When you straightened your stance, you stared at the floor, still not catching a glimpse of your betrothed. 

You feel your brother Edgar’s arm link with yours as your family is escorted inside the walls of the Red Keep. The royal family walked in front of yours, and only then did you dare to look upon your betrothed. Recalling how your cousin had told you that prince Aemond was the taller of the two princes and had a curtain of straight, silver locks. 

Aemond felt your stare, and it took great restraint upon himself not to turn and gaze upon you to see the actuality of his intended. To deduce if the talk of your beauty was true or just another hoax. 

Aemond felt his mother step closer to him, “Invite your betrothed to the gardens— begin to acquaint yourselves with one another.” The queen whispered, and Aemond rolled his eye. “They have been traveling for five days; let them rest first before you force us to these rituals.” Aemond quietly spoke. His words were easily covered by the chatter of your brothers and two younger siblings, but he still had to hear a word to be uttered from your lips. “Very well then, but I expect you to sit and get to know her later during supper,” Alicent warned, and Aemond resisted verbalizing his disapproval, simply nodding along and going about his mother’s orders just as the dutiful son that he was. 

You and Aemond sat quietly in your seats as the table was filled with chatter. Aemond was not accustomed to it; their usual supper was suffocatingly silent; the only thing to be heard was the clatter of silverware upon porcelain and the breathing of his kin. Now, it was filled with varying conversations from your brothers and his, along with the chatter of the queen and her friend. Aemond had still not looked upon your face and nor you him. He stared upon your hand that was gripping your chalice; just from the looks of it, he could attest that it had never known a day’s work. The look of your flesh was soft, supple, unsullied—a stark difference from his own. 

“Do you think they will go on well?” The queen whispered to her friend; your mother eyed you, who sat in her seat, your gaze upon your plate. Her eyes then turned to your future husband, who gazed at the flickering amber light of a candle in between you. “I do not know… my daughter relishes in silence,” Your mother admitted, and the queen hummed. “So does my son,” 

You chewed on your lip as you noticed everyone at the table was chatting with one another, making small talk, except for you and your intended. You sat by his right, and you could make out the outline of him through the side of your eye; your view of him was a bit obstructed, but you could make out the contour of his nose. You battled with yourself if you should speak with him and, if you did, what topic would you bring up to converse with? 

Aemond licked his lips as he caught the eyes of his mother, imploring him to speak with you. He clenched his jaw and took a few calming breaths before parting his lips to speak. “H… How were your travels, my lady?” Aemond asked through gritted teeth, his head slightly turned in your direction. You blinked, trying to deduce if you had actually heard him speak. You turned to face the prince, finally seeing your betrothed eye to eye. “It was fine, my prince,” You answered quietly with a small smile before you and Aemond were enveloped in silence once more. 

Aemond did not know what overcame him when you spoke, and your eyes met his. He was expecting your voice to be shrill and loud— grating, even. He did not expect to hear such a soft, almost melodious tone when you spoke— a deep contrast from the voices of your kin. 

You bit your lip as you saw your mother from across the table imploring you to keep up with your conversation with the prince. “I— I heard you are quite fond of the histories, your highness,” You inquired quietly, holding your breath as your eyes locked with the unique gaze of old Valyria once more. “I am,” he replied curtly, and you nodded, uncertain if you should speak further or let his answer be, sensing he did not wish for small talk, a sentiment you, too, shared. 

You went quiet once more, and in other circumstances, Aemond would find relief in that, letting himself ease into the quiet, but there was an odd sensation in him that was pushing him to continue the unconventional conversation you two shared. Aemond, however, bit his tongue and let you two be enveloped in silence as you waited for supper to end. 

Aemond returned to his chambers, mind plagued by how to perceive his first encounters with you. He had prepared himself for the possibility of him growing annoyed and aggravated by your presence, but he was surprised in himself as he felt no such emotions rising within him. In truth, he felt somewhat serene that night, a feeling he had not felt in a long time. However, instead of enjoying the calm in his raging being, he ignored it, untrusting of it. Convincing himself that that night was luring him into a trap, one you had devised, acting ever so demure and coy, not presenting your true nature and only deceiving the prince. He will not fall for it. He fortified himself to not lay prey to this calming allure you offered. 

When the next morning came, Aemond was implored with the rest of his siblings to break their fast with yours. Your mothers forcing a bond between their children. Aemond expected his brother Aegon to complain and not abide by their mother’s wishes which is why he was caught off guard as his brother agreed, him being the first one to go to the gardens. “Your Highnesses,” Aemond heard your brothers greet in unison as you four stood and curtsied and bowed before the three of them. 

Aemond first assisted his sister to a chair before finding one for himself, and by fate, the only seat left was the one next to yours. Aemond sat quietly and tried to finish his meal as fast as he could without appearing crude. He listened in to the chatter across the table, surprised that you and his sister struck up a conversation as well. Aemond listened intently to your voice, trying to see if the volume of your speech was forced to lower or if that was just actually the way you spoke, soft— calming. 

He did not pay mind to the subject you and his sister discussed, but he supposed he should have as he suddenly heard quiet laughs emitting from the both of you. Aemond felt an odd warming in his chest as he heard you laugh; it was almost… surreal to hear it. Your laugh was what he imagined nymphs’ laughs would sound like as he read about them in his books. He was in a trance; it was… out worldly that even he, the well-spoken and silver-tongued prince of the realm, was speechless on how to describe it. 

He was proven wholly wrong as he based your manners to be alike your cousin. You were a stark difference from the lady Eliza, and a part of Aemond had hoped you were like her because then, he could justify the prejudice against you that settled and bloomed in his heart. Now, he must come to terms with shedding his cruel perception of you and might actually make an effort to know his betrothed better. Aemond stayed in the gardens that morning a while longer than he had anticipated, trying to deduce your character as you spoke with his sister and interacted with your brothers. A part of him still believes that what you presented was an act, that you were not as demure and chaste as you lead them to believe. But as he saw your small smiles, timid eyes, and flushed cheeks when Aegon would speak of such inappropriate topics, he started to feel as if you were being genuine. 

As the sun began to descend higher into the skies, the children of the queen and her friend decided to depart from the gardens, the heat proving to be too great for comfort. “My lady, would you perhaps like a tour of the keep?” Aemond boldly but quietly asked, he felt the eyes of your brothers turn to him, but he was trying to capture your gaze. A gaze that he had trouble locking upon his, your eyes always darting around the room, difficulty in holding prolonged eye contact. “I would very much like that, my prince,” You smiled, and Aemond stood straighter, feeling his knees give out under him just because of your smile. 

Your brother’s eyes followed you as you and the prince detached yourselves from the group. “Should we not follow them?” Edmund questioned, “Are they allowed to go about without an escort?” Edgar then asked, their queries pointed towards their eldest brother. “I— I do not know… perhaps we should just let them get to know each other, and if sister has any concerns, that is when we shall intervene.” Edward decided, his eyes following your departing figure that was next to a silver prince. 

Aemond was not entirely certain as to how he would go about touring you along the Red Keep; the castle was dreary and had nothing of note to look upon, so he took you to the gallery. It was a less frequented room in the castle filled with portraits of his family’s history as well as some of Westeros. You and Aemond stood before a portrait of the conqueror and his wives, him retelling the histories that you already knew of, but you still listened intently because there was just something in his voice that entranced you. It was deep, velvety, and quiet— holding a sense of calm that enveloped you with every word he uttered. 

Aemond guided you towards another portrait, but he noticed your gaze had shifted to the side of the room, your gentle gaze upon a harp. “Do you play, my prince?” You questioned, unable to resist the instrument that sat lonesome to the side, dusted and neglected. Aemond followed you, “No, I do not,” he answered, his eye going to your fingers, which seemed to itch to touch the strings of the unused harp. “Do you?” He asked, already guessing the answer. Aemond held his breath as your eyes finally locked with his, “I do,” you said, voice holding a pitch of excitement about the subject. There was a beat of silence, neither of you knowing what to do or say. 

“Would you like to play it?” Aemond questioned and he felt his stomach grow warm as a smile appeared on your lips when you nodded. You ventured closer to the dusted seat, but Aemond was quicker to reach it and wipe away the remnants of lapsed time. “Thank you,” You say quietly as the prince stands by your side and observes you play. 

Aemond was never one to enjoy music or songs, but he must admit, there was something captivating about how you played the harp. The tune you played was one he had not heard before, something bright and lively yet still soothing. Aemond stood in quiet awe, watching as your fingers danced along the strings and how your eyes closed, and there was a tranquil smile on your lips as you played the tune. Aemond tried to resist it, but he could not help but help himself as a smile twitched on his lips as he listened to your melody, which, unfortunately, quickly came to a halt. 

“It’s not finished yet,” You say in slight embarrassment, daring to turn to the prince, who you were surprised to see have a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You wrote that?” He questioned, and you nodded, “Well, I try. I don’t think I'm quite good at it, if I am being honest— but my father did say that this piece holds the most promise.” You say sheepishly. “I quite enjoyed it,” Aemond admitted, and that compliment made your heart grow warm. “I’m glad,” You smiled, and another silence took the room, the silence you and he found comfort in. 

With each day spent trying to acquaint with one another, you would like to beleive you and Aemond had reached a deeper understanding. Each of your perceptions made of each other before your meeting shed as you and him began to know each other’s actuality.

There was a secret language between you, a silent one, at that. An agreement that neither of you had to fill up the gaps and lags in your conversations, simply enjoying the quiet, not forcing another topic as a filler. Others around you found it odd that you and your betrothed just walked and sat in silence, occasionally speaking of something that only you and he were privy to, but you and Aemond quite liked your arrangements. 

“They just sit there in silence,” The queen fretted to her friends, finding the design of your accord quite odd. Fretting that the silence was brought by indifference rather than just a mutual and deeper understanding, because how could one get to know the other in silence? “Aye, they do, but they don’t seem… bothered or disinterested by it— I dare say they are fond of it,” Your mother said as the two observed you and Aemond, who walked along the gardens in silence, relishing in the sounds of nature. 

“My uncle shall arrive today,” Aemond broke the silence, assisting you to a seat for the two of you to have refreshments, “Oh, Prince Daemon?” You asked, wanting to make certain of who he spoke of. Aemond gave a nod and watched as your delicate fingers poured him a cup of tea. “Are you close with him, my prince?” You wondered. “No, not at all. I’ve only met him once,” He answered as he placed two cubes of sugar upon your cup, noting that is how you took your tea. 

“However, I must admit that I am intrigued by him.” You nodded, “I always hear talk in this court as to how the lords and ladies compared me to him in his youth,” Aemond confessed, “And does that please you?” Aemond thought about your question for a moment, staring into your gaze that has grown accustomed to looking upon his. “No,” he answered, watching as you nodded. “I would understand; it wouldn’t fare well if we are always compared to another’s likeness,” You mused before you and the prince were enveloped in the inevitable silence once more. 

When supper was nearing, Aemond felt excitement in seeing you once more. He had come far from the prince who dreaded your company; now, he sought it—altering his usual routine in order to spend more time with you. 

Aemond was the last one to enter the dining hall, his eye searching your frame, feeling a smirk twitch on his lips, but it quickly disappeared as he realized his uncle had taken his place. “Prince Daemon, we have saved you a seat next to the king,” Alicent spoke as she noticed Aemond’s arrival, noting how Prince Daemon was quick to spot you when he entered the hall and made a beeline towards you— chatting with you who had no interest in small talk but still participated out of respect.

“I am quite comfortable here, next to Lady Tyrell,” Daemon refused the seat, only settling further into his chair as he turned to the girl next to him, but her gaze was turned to one of his nephews, the one who had a resemblance of him in his youth. You hear the quiet yet disapproving hum of your betrothed as he orders a squire to place a chair by your right, just enough space for him to sit next to you. The new place on your right offered closer proximity between you and Aemond as you had scooted away from his uncle, but he did not like that you were on the side of a damaged eye, unable to see your outline. 

Supper was tenser than the ones shared before; the chatter had died, and the table was enveloped in silence, but not the kind you and Aemond found comfort in. It was the silence that everyone feared and tried earnestly to alter, but no matter the attempts, it seemed futile. 

Aemond clenched his fists around his utensils, hearing as his uncle tried to chat you up and you entertaining his queries. “So, what brings you and your family here, Lady Tyrell? Highgarden is quite a journey.” Daemon questioned. “They came for my betrothed and I to be acquainted,” Aemond suddenly interjected, turning his body to face you and his uncle, who he had noticed threaded closer to your side. Daemon hummed, quick to sense jealousy from his nephew. He knew he should be somewhat mature, but his mind could not help but conjure up possibilities to torment his brother’s second son. “Hm, you are quite fortunate to have such a lovely betrothed; it would seem the crown has favored you… I remember my first wife, Lady Royce, the bronze bitch whose sheep seemed to prove more comely than her,”

Your eyes widened at the elder prince’s words, disparaging his first wife so openly and offensively. “If my brother had provided me with a bride whose beauty was comparable to Lady Tyrell’s, perhaps there would be no need for me to leave my first wife… you are lucky, nephew,” Aemond clenched his jaw as he noticed Daemon’s eyes trail downward to your bosom that heaved ever so lightly as you were rendered uncomfortable by their topic.

You turned to your brothers, a plea in your eyes to save you from the princes you sat in between. Edward was quick to stand, “Come, sister, I shall escort you to your chambers,” He announced, and you let out a breath, Aemond standing as well to make way for you to exit, “Good night, my lady,” He bowed and boldly took your hand placed a kiss on your knuckles. A blush over, taking your cheeks as you curtsied before him, your mothers thrilled as they saw affection blooming between the two of you. 

“You looked quite uncomfortable,” Your eldest brother noted. “Is your betrothed proving to be ungallant? Must we intervene now and convince mo—“ You quickly shook our head, “No! Prince Aemond has been quite… lovely; cousin Eliza was somewhat wrong in her judgment,” You say quickly in defense of Aemond, who you had grown to deeply like the past few days. “I was just not prepared to meet a character such as the Prince Daemon,” You added, and your brother nodded in understanding; he, too, was scandalized as he heard the words uttered by the elderly prince. 

“So, you have grown to be quite… fond of your betrothed,” You bit your lip as you hear a teasing tone in his voice. You sighed and felt a smile coming to your lips. Whatever fear you had for the marriage subsided with every silent and serene moment with Aemond. “I have.” You confirmed, and your brother nodded. Placing a kiss on your temple before you enter your chambers and get ready for the night.

It has been three days since Prince Daemon’s arrival, and Aemond has been growing peeved at how his uncle would always trail you. Aemond’s new routine of spending the quiet hours of his days with you that was quick to feel like second nature, abrupted by the arrival of his uncle. There were now only scarce moments where you and Aemond were left in each other’s company and quiet, his uncle always trying to speak with you, and you could not deny him conversation, for it would be impertinent. 

It was past high noon when Aemond concluded his training with Ser Criston, his feet hastily carrying him away from the tiltyard to find you, who had frequented the gallery to play the old harp that found new life from your touch. He stood by the threshold and was quick to grow annoyed as he noticed his uncle was in your presence once more. 

“You do not speak much, do you?” He heard Daemon question, your fingers ceasing to play the instrument. “I take it upon myself to not speak unless spoken to, my prince. I do not wish to bother anyone. I know how… annoying it can be when one just simply wishes for peace and quiet, but there is an insistent noise you must attend to.” You say, and Aemond was quite surprised as he heard a slight in your comment, but his uncle did not seem to catch it. 

Aemond observed as you returned to play the harp, the melody easing whatever tension he harbored, but it was quick to return as his uncle wandered closer to you. Aemond stood rigid by the door; your back was face to him and he saw his uncle turn his head towards the door, a smirk on his lips as he stepped further into your space. Daring to take a lock of your hair in his fingers, twirling the lock. 

You tensed in your seat as you felt Prince Daemon’s finger twirl your hair. You looked at the strings of the harp wide-eyed, uncertain of what to do. 

When Aemond noticed your unmoving frame that did nothing to hinder his uncle’s actions, he removed himself from the door frame and marched back to his chambers. Whatever understanding made between the two of the past days was quickly forgotten as his cruel perceptions of your nature, he mustered before meeting you returned. 

You sat tensely at dinner that night once more, waiting for the presence of your betrothed to somewhat comfort as his uncle sat next to you again. When Aemond entered the hall, you placed your hopeful gaze upon him, but he did not turn to you, ignoring the empty seat next to you and instead to a seat in what was supposed to be the place of his uncle. 

Throughout dinner, you would peek a look at Aemond, who refused to meet your gaze. There was a prominent scowl on his face, and his demeanor held an air of indifference that strayed dangerously close to animosity. You started to wonder if the Aemond you stared upon right now was the Prince your cousin had warned you about. And perhaps the past few days spent with him was an act, a fictitiousness in him to appease his mother so the marriage would proceed. You were disheartened by the thought. 

When the following morning came, Aemond’s eye followed as you roamed the halls alone, following behind you but not close enough for you to notice your presence. You led him back to the gallery, where both of you were caught in surprise when his uncle stood in the room, waiting for you. Aemond clenched his fists, believing he was a witness in your clandestine meetings. The scandal of it! Here you are, an engaged woman meeting with a man who was old enough to be your father and was married to the King’s chosen heir!

“My prince,” you curtsied as you spotted him near the harp, having the urge to turn back around and exit the room. Uncomfortable to be alone in the Rogue Prince’s presence. “All alone? Where is your betrothed?” Daemon mused, stepping closer to you. “I— I do not know,” You said and backed away from the prince who was threading closer to your space once more. “Hm, it’s quite foolish of him to leave his lovely bride to be all alone… especially in this keep where danger always lurks,” Your lips parted at his words. Was that a threat? You thought. 

You swallowed thickly and turned to the door, wanting to make an escape but not one so obvious that it would make suspicion rise. Daemon smirked as he saw fear in your eyes; it was so easy. You were such an innocent and sheltered thing. He could smell you from leagues away, a lovely and tempting prey that a dragon could never resist. It was a shame that you were betrothed to his nephew, but perhaps that could still change. 

You gasped as you felt Prince Daemon flush your bodies; you stared at him wide-eyed as he took hold of your cheek. 

Aemond watched the scene; rage within burned bright and carelessly. He wanted to put a stop to whatever he witnessed, but he stood in wait, wanting to find evidence if this was truly how you were— promiscuous and would settle to be a whore of his uncle.

“My prince, wh—“ You panicked, trying to back away, but he held you still. “Such a pretty young thing you are… a shame that you’ll be wasted on my disfigured nephew,” You drew out all of your might and pushed away Prince Daemon, him stumbling only a few paces. You see a sinister smirk rise to his lips as he tries to close the gap between you once more, but you are quick to strike his cheek, rendering him in shock, and you take that opportunity to run out of the room and into safety. 

Aemond was hidden behind a pillar, and as you passed, he saw clearly the distress on your face and how you were on the verge of tears, rendering him guilty for not coming to your aid as he had thought you were in want of his uncle. 

Aemond saw as Daemon furiously marched out of the gallery in pursuit of you, but he was quick to step away from his hiding and face his uncle. “You dare try to sully her? Was my half-sister and your whores not enough? Must, in your old age, still prey on young innocent girls?” Aemond spat, ready to challenge his uncle in your honor. Daemon chuckled as the young prince stared at him wide-eyed. “You get ahead of yourself— they might compare you to me in my youth, but you are completely lacking of what it means to be a true Targaryen prince… you’d have to thank your cunt of a mother for that.” Daemon chuckled, and Aemond no longer hesitated to draw out his sword. 

A battle between nephew and uncle commenced in the halls; both men wielded their weapons with such authority that neither one could draw blood. Daemon was somewhat impressed by his nephew. He thought the talk he heard of Aemond was just propaganda spread by his grandsire, but it would seem that his nephew knew his way with the steel. That, however, did not deter the prince, for Aemond was still completely inexperienced when compared to him. 

One of the princes was near drawing blood when a band of Kingsguards appeared in the halls and were quick to separate the dueling princes. Daemon laughed as he was held back by the knights, his nephew still seething across from him, still ready to attack. The elderly prince brushed off the hold on his arms and laughed once more before walking away from his nephew, leaving their state as it was. 

Aemond brushed off the guards and hastily marched in search of you, wanting to make certain you were well— wanting to offer his apologies for his judgments and lack of protection over you. 

He knocked on your door, waiting on bated breath as he heard you shuffling inside. When you slowly revealed yourself, Aemond felt his stomach pit at the sight of your teary eyes that you tried to hide. “I’m sorry,” He was quick to breathe out, unable to stomach you in such a state of distress. Your brows knit together at his words, “What? My pri—“ Aemond shook his head and forced himself into your chambers. 

“I’m so sorry, my lady… I—“ Aemond repeated but you still had no clue as to what he refers to. “My uncle, he is a depraved man; I should have protected you from him.” He explained as he saw confusion in your face. Your eyes widened at his statement, “You saw us?” You asked in fear that he would think you were tarnished. “I have, and I… I should have come to your aid, but instead, my mind cruelly thought you were in want of him; I apologize, my lady.” It felt foreign for Aemond to apologize, but it seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly for you. He would never have fathom to encounter someone or the day that he would apologize earnestly, ready to beg for forgiveness. 

“No… my prince, you need not apologize; it was not your doing,” you said, but Prince Aemond stubbornly shook his head. “It is my duty to protect you— to defend my lady wife.” You bit your tongue as he referred to you with such a title. It felt surreal… and you must admit it brought a stir in you that you quite liked. 

You and Aemond were in silence once more, the silence both of you had gotten used to, the silence within each other that you both craved. The serene silence that could only be provided by each other. “Will you still… still have me? Even after my transgression?” Aemond dared ask, not wanting to live in the hope that there would still be a way that you would be his. Surely, you would be deterred to take him as your husband, for he could not even defend you with such a threat. Aemond studied your face, his knees growing weak as a smile spread across your lips. “I still want you, my prince,” You admitted, heat blooming in your cheeks as you said the words. Aemond could not help but cup your cheek, wanting to feel the warmth of them as they flushed with color before him. 

“I must admit… I was dreading to meet you,” He said quietly, and he felt you nod. “I, as well… I was greatly warned that we might not see eye to eye.” You admitted. Aemond hummed and brushed his thumb across your soft skin, your bodies threading closer and closer. “I do not believe I would ever want someone as much as I want you,” Aemond confessed, his voice so low that if you had not felt his breath fanning your skin, you would think you had imagined his words. “I never thought anyone would understand me in the way that you do, my prince,” You breathed out as his face threaded closer to yours, his eye on your lips as you spoke. 

“You’re mine… say it, my darling.” Your eyes fluttered closed at his words. “I’m all yours,” Quickly after you uttered the words, you feel his lips upon yours. A kiss filled with longing— impatience. A kiss that was long overdue, for how could either of you live for years without knowing each other? How could Aemond try to ignore your existence, and how could you try to deny this marriage? It was set the day you were born. You two were simply destined for one another. 

As your lips parted, you smiled before your soon-to-be-husband. Aemond hummed in contentment and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, inhaling your intoxicating scent deeply. “Shall we tell our mothers that they shall prepare for our wedding, then?” Aemond smiled, and you let out a quiet laugh as you nodded, letting him hold you. “And urge them to make haste,” Aemond’s eye twinkled with amusement as he dipped down to capture your lips once more. 

A fortnight had barely passed before you and Aemond uttered your vows before the gods—an intimate wedding commenced, as you both requested. And it was followed by a family dinner after. Aemond was impatient, as were you, but you and he waited for the meal to end; for the past days, there was a need greatly bubbling inside him, having trouble finding restrtaint and contentment with just stolen kisses and touches. 

When it was finally night, Aemond led you to his chambers, you already flushing in anticipation of what was to come. When he led you to your shared chambers, you were met by something covered in a white cloth. You frowned and turned to your husband, who simply smiled and closed the door behind you. “It’s a gift for you.” He said and stood before it. You stepped closer as he urged you to uncover what he had given, though you already had a sneaking feeling as to what it was. 

Aemond watched with his heart in his eye as you beamed before him as you uncovered what he had given— a harp. Newer and grander than the one in the gallery, the body was plated with gold, and delicate carvings of flowers scattered its body. You bit your lip and step towards your husband, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips agaisnt his. “Thank you… I love it,” you said gratefully as your lips parted. Aemond simply hummed, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we were to exchange gifts… I could’ve gotten something,” You then say, fretting he would take offense. 

Aemond shook his head. “You already have given me your hand; you are my wife. What more could I want?” Those words uttered, and the certainty in Aemond only made you melt further. He intertwined your lips once more, but the kiss shared held something wholly different from the ones shared before; it was urgent, filled with longing and desires that were greatly suppressed. 

You feel breathless, but at the same time, you make no move to part your lips. You feel him lead you to the feathered bed, his hands on your waist as he sits you gently upon the cushion. You blushed as you felt his fingers hover at the bodice of your dress, itching to undo the laces, but there was trepidation in him. You bit the insides of your cheeks and took the initiative to do it yourself. Aemond sucked in a deep breath as your dress fell before him, revealing yourself only dressed in your shift. 

Aemond fell on his knees before you, moving his hand to cup your cheek and the other to undress you further. He heard a moan escape your lips as he nipped your bottom lip. His cold hand cupped your breast that pebbled before his touch. You mewled his name as he parted your lips, your hands finding the buttons of his leather tunic. 

You ran your hands through his smooth, chiseled chest and Aemond felt chills running down his spine at the feel of your hands on his skin. You let out a breath as you feel your husband lay you down, his weight atop you, his weeping length aligned with your glistening entrance. You sighed as you felt his finger tease your folds, Aemond resting his forehead up your shoulder as he felt your arousal. “You’re all mine, my darling,” Aemond breathed out against your lips and swallowed your whines as his length penetrated you.

Aemond groaned at the sheer feel of you clenching around him. Pleasure and guilt swirled within him as he saw your face contorted in pain, kissing away your tears as you acclimatized yourself with his length. He truly thought himself indifferent in the ways of pleasure, only succumbing to it occasionally when even he could not suffice his lust— but now, he was certain he knew what the fuss was all about when it came to fucking. He had only a taste of you, but he was certain he was addicted. It took a moment before your whines of pain turned into whimpers of pleasure, your husband breathing heavily as you urged him to speed up his pace, but Aemond was conscious not to break and hurt you further. 

“Aemond, please… I wa— need more,” You breathed as Aemond’s thrusts were cautious. He bit his lip and sped up his pace ever so lightly, but that was not enough for you. With your legs circling his waist, you shifted your weight and placed yourself atop your husband. Aemond was rendered stunned by your actions, only watching in awe as you bounced upon his cock whilst you straddled his waist. He never thought you’d have it in you, but he supposed it was always the quiet ones who would be capable of the unexpected. 

“You were so quiet the days before, little wife… but look at you now— your moans could be heard throughout the castle.” Aemond hummed, and his hands found home on your waist, assisting you as you writhed against his length. Your hands were planted on his chest as your hips worked against his in search of friction. “Husband, please,” you pleaded, knowing you would not come to what you searched for without his assistance. Aemond smirked and moved his hands to cup your behind and lifted his hips to thrust deeper and harsher into you. 

“Yes… yes, gods, Aemond!” You cried as you heard him groan at how you scratched his chest, leaving imprints of your hands upon his skin. “Are you to come, my darling? Is my little wife to come at my cock?” He hissed as he felt his own release coming. His hands traveled your frame, cupping your tits and moving his head to take one into the cavern of his mouth. You nodded, your head that was tilted to the heavens, your back arched, and your husband’s name slipping your lips as you came undone. You hear him call out your name as he spills his seed deep in your cunt, your heavy breathings mixed as you collapse atop him, his lips finding yours once more. 

“You truly are made for me,” he whispered against your lips. Feeling a surge of new and overwhelming emotions that you could not yet utter, all you could do was kiss his lips once more and bask in the presence of the man who had been bound to you the moment you were born. 

[tightwadspoonies]

How to Shop at an Asian (or other ethnic) Grocery Store

Do you live in or near a city in the US?

Need to save some money on groceries?

Might I introduce you to... shopping at the local Asian grocery?

Asian grocery stores aimed at an Asian-American customer base almost always beat the prices of their western (or for-western) counterparts. Often by a significant amount, especially in categories like produce, meat, rice, and spices. Plus in addition to lower prices, you get the satisfaction of supporting a small, local business instead of a larger chain store.

(Note that a lot of this information applies to other ethnic grocery stores as well, but we're using Asian because they're common in many cities, and have particularly good prices on produce.)

But it can be a little bit of a learning curve when you first start to shop at them. This post will give you the information you need to navigate them.

So how do you find a good Asian grocery store?

First, go on google maps and search "grocery".

Note that you are NOT googling "Asian Grocery" or "Cheap Grocery". If you search "Asian Grocery" you will get results for Asian stores marketing toward a western audience, and because of this, will be neat, shiny, and very pricey. If you search "Cheap Grocery" you will get stores marketing themselves as cheap, which generally are only slightly less expensive than their "expensive" counterparts (think Aldi). Okay in a pinch, but you can do better.

Second, look at the pictures of all the stores you can easily get to.

Here's what you want: not a lot of printed ads, pictures of hand-written signs (especially in languages other than English), food in cardboard bins, and you want it to look kind of "junky". Bonus points if you can see prices listed in the pictures or the people shopping there are mostly older, ethnic women.

Third, If you couldn't find anything like this, go on your city's subreddit.

Search "cheap", "cheap grocery" and "expensive grocery". Why "expensive grocery"? Because you want to find people complaining about grocery prices, and you want to see the advice they get. Many times, that advice is Asian or ethnic grocery stores.

If you're still not getting anything, google "[city name] cheap grocery" and "[city name] expensive grocery" (see above). Scroll until you get to FORUMS discussing groceries in your city. You DO NOT want blogs or articles. Again, you're looking at the advice people are given when they complain about grocery prices.

One of the first questions people ask upon walking into an Asian grocery store of the type discussed in this post is:

"Is the food I'm getting here safe to eat?"

The answer is just as safe as anywhere else you might shop.

You're probably used to very clean, pretty, well-lit, well-organized stores. This will probably not be that, but it will be regulated by the same health department that regulates those stores. They are held to the same standards.

It's a lot of work to keep a store looking like a western consumer expects. It's a lot less work (and thus less money) to keep a store looking like an ethnic career housewife or grandmother expects. That is largely where the savings comes from.

What's a good deal at an Asian grocery?

Produce. You're probably used to things like onions and carrots being the cheapest per pound. Here it's going to be greens, apples, pears, radish, cabbage and maybe squash and sweet potatoes. Check unit prices and prepare to try some new things. Also a pound of greens is a LOT of greens. Keep that in mind. Also keep in mind that you might see a few pieces of produce that are bruised or have mold on them. That's okay. Just don't buy those pieces. The rest of the batch is probably fine. Wash produce when you get home if you're concerned, though you should be doing that anyway.

Rice and dry beans. If you like to buy in bulk, you're in luck. Don't expect to walk away with a pound or two of these. They come in 40lb packages. But if you tailor most of your meals around them, those meals will be cheap af. There are also lots of different types of specialty rice if you want to make your own sushi or mochi. Learn how to soak and sprout beans.

Tofu. Tofu is expensive when you buy it at a health food store. It is not when you buy it at an Asian grocery. It probably won't be in pretty packages, but again, cheap is not going to be super pretty.

Meat and fish. Meat is generally going to be cheaper here, though maybe not by as much as the produce is. Pork will probably be your cheapest option. You may also see cuts you don't normally see, like tongue, intestine, liver, kidneys, blood, etc... "Weird," however, does not automatically mean cheap in this context. Check unit prices and prepare to be adventurous. If you don't know what else to do with them, dried fish and animal organs make fantastic stock when boiled.

Spices. Again with the extremely large quantities here. But very inexpensive compared with their western counterparts.

Candy. This makes a great inexpensive gift if you need one, since the candy sold at these stores is fairly exotic for a western audience.

What isn't a good deal at an Asian grocery?

Dairy. This includes fresh milk, butter, cheese, etc... If they have it, it will be very expensive. Consider buying elsewhere.

Eggs. Again, this will probably be as expensive or more than the eggs you could get at a western supermarket.

Snacks. Pre-made items will be expensive in general, even though they may be tempting because they are different from what you are used to and you don't need to learn to cook a new thing. Do your best to avoid these and make your own if you can. If you can't, frozen pork or vegetable dumplings are probably your best bet for a quick meal.

Bread. It's pricey. A lot of Asian cuisines use rice, noodles, or buns for their starch instead of western-style bread. So if you can find it it will often be a novelty item.

What else do I need to know?

It's okay to be overwhelmed by new ingredients. Look up some YouTube videos on how to cook certain ingredients if you're not familiar with them.

These are not supermarkets. They sell food and sometimes the kitchenware (steamers, woks, chopsticks, etc...) needed to cook it. You will probably need to get your soap and household items somewhere else.

Pay in cash if you can. Most of these are very small businesses and paying them cash makes it so they don't need to pay credit card fees. At the very least, make the minimum purchase before paying with a card.

[surftrips]

ABOUT YOU | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

request: luke x reader fluff w like an aphrodite!reader? reader is all sunshine and flowers and makes luke all soft/campers teasing luke abt the way reader changed him 🤭

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is probably my favorite luke fic that i've written so far thank u so much anon for sending this request in! writing aphrodite!reader is so much fun, i'm such a sucker for the opposites trope. hope you all enjoy 🤍

You were the human embodiment of sunshine, a real life angel. Gentle, kind, and lovely— in other words, the complete and total opposite of Luke Castellan. He was dark and broody, strong and rough, and not totally unfriendly, but definitely intimidating. 

But even if you weren’t the daughter of Aphrodite, Luke believed that you would still be just as beautiful. There was something in the way you carried yourself that had made his heart surrender the second he laid eyes on you. You became the one and only exception in his long list of grievances. 

So it came as no surprise to anyone at camp when the two of you started dating, just to the dismay of many of your admirers and a few of Luke’s as well. If there was one thing you had in common, it was your beauty. With his puppy dog eyes and curly brown hair, Luke was a sight for sore eyes, almost as much as you were. 

One day, you were walking hand in hand when one of the younger campers accidentally bumped into Luke. On any other occasion, Luke might have started an altercation, but today, he simply smiled and said, “Just be careful next time.” The camper stared at him, wide-eyed and shocked into place as you softly giggled.

“What?” he smiled, looking over at you as the kid took it as an opportunity to run away. 

“Nothing,” you mused. “Just that I think you’re getting soft, Luke Castellan.” You poked a finger at his chest playfully. 

“What?” he shook his head. “No, I’m not.” 

Though he attempts to keep a serious face, you could see the amusement in his eyes. He often looked at you like this, ready to go along with anything you said— no matter how silly or whimsical your remarks. 

“Okay, lover boy. Whatever you say,” you shrugged, offering him a kiss on his cheek that instantly causes color to rush into his face. Ignoring that he’s just proven your point, he attempts to hide his expression by seeking solace in the crook of your neck. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often thought his favorite place at camp was the spot in between your jaw and collarbone. 

Even though most of the campers were still a little frightened by the idea of approaching Luke, his closest friends were not afraid to speak their minds. 

“Dude, you’re like, totally whipped for her,” Percy remarked over lunch once. 

“And you’re like, totally fourteen years old,” Luke said.

“I think the fourteen year old’s right,” Chris jumped in.

“Dude! I thought you were supposed to have my back,” Luke throws up his arms in mock aggravation.

The two boys snickered, causing Luke to speak up again. “I am not whipped for Y/N.” 

“Oh, sure,” Chris began. “So the reason you’re practically skipping around camp and letting whatever team Aphrodite cabin is in win Capture the Flag is because…?” 

“Oh, and don’t forget the constant checking his phone to see if she texted back and sharing his blanket with her at the campfire!” Percy pointed out. “Meanwhile, I’m over here freezing…” 

“Maybe,” Luke scrambled to come up with an answer. “Maybe, I was just in a really good mood those days. It could have absolutely nothing to do with Y/N.” 

He barely believed the words himself, and Chris and Percy were certainly not convinced. Luke wasn’t even sure why he felt the need to defend himself. 

“Dude, it’s okay if you are, she’s literally your girlfriend,” Chris said.

“Hey! I have an idea, let’s ask Annabeth!” Percy declared.

“Annabeth? Why her?” Luke furrowed his brow. 

“Because, she’s a girl. And she’s known you the longest, she can give us a real answer,” Percy said matter-of-factly. 

Luke thought it over. The young boy was technically right, Annabeth was like a little sister to him. If anyone could tell if he had changed since dating you, it would be her. This came as both a good and bad realization to him, because what if he had changed? Gods, was it that obvious? 

Before he could agree to asking Annabeth, the young girl was already at their table. Percy must have called her over while Luke was thinking. 

“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down across from him with her plate of food. 

“Oh, nothing, just talking about how soft Luke has gotten since he started dating Y/N,” Chris explained with a grin on his face. 

“Oh?” Annabeth said, seemingly amused. 

“Yeah, we actually wanted to get your opinion,” Percy continued. “Would you say you agree or disagree, that you know, Luke is nicer now that he’s with Y/N?”

Annabeth seemed to think it over for a second. “Gods, you guys are such children,” she scoffed. 

“Thank you!” Luke cut in.

“I mean, all of you,” she looked at Luke pointedly. “Why do you care what a bunch of kids think about you anyway? And not that it matters, but you, Castellan, are most definitely whipped for Y/N.” 

That shut Luke up immediately, and caused cheers to erupt from Chris and Percy, who were clapping each other on their backs as if they had just won Capture the Flag. 

Annabeth smiled and shrugged her shoulders, as if to say “Sorry, Luke. It’s true.” 

Later that night, Luke snuck over to the Aphrodite Cabin to find you. You were surprised when Luke woke you up, it had been a while since he came seeking your comfort in the middle of the night. He used to have bad nightmares, but you noticed he had gotten better since you started dating. You’d like to think it was because of you, but perhaps that would be thinking too highly of yourself.  

In an effort to clear his mind, you suggested to go on a walk together. He agreed, and you climbed out of bed as quietly as you could.

You allowed him a few minutes of silence until his heavy breathing had slowed down and his grip on your hand had loosened. 

“What’s on your mind, hon?” you asked softly. 

Luke didn’t respond at first, distracting himself by tracing the lines on the palm of your hand. You were happy to give him as much time as he needed, placing your other hand on his back and gently drawing circles.

After a while, he did speak up. “Uhm, do you think that I’m, like, unapproachable?” 

Your heart sank and you stopped in your tracks. “What makes you say that?” 

“I don’t know, it’s just something that’s been on my mind recently.” 

“Luke, is this about what I said to you the other day? Because I didn’t mean it like that—” 

“No, baby,” he rushed. The last thing he wanted was for you to think you had done something wrong. He wasn’t sure that you could ever do wrong, not in his eyes. “I was just talking to Percy and Chris at lunch today and they were kind of teasing me.” 

You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of your boyfriend, Mr. Tough Guy, being teased by a few kids younger than him. “I’m sorry, babe. Continue,” you placed a supportive hand on his chest as you regained your composure. 

“They said that I’ve changed since we started dating.” 

Though you were an expert in human emotion, there were still times you couldn’t read the expression on Luke’s face. You couldn’t tell if he thought of this as a bad thing, or if he was just curious to see what you thought. You decided on the latter. “Changed how so?” 

“They think I’m soft now because I’m always in a good mood and stuff…” he trailed off. Even now, in the dark of the night, you could tell he was blushing.

“Well,” you started, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was just teasing you the other day, babe. I think you’ve always been this way.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I think you’ve always been a giant teddy bear,” you grinned, unable to contain yourself. “Luke, you’re not as bad as everyone thinks you are.” 

By now, both of you had stopped walking. Ever since Luke arrived at camp, he had been characterized as the tough, stony, and slightly antagonistic guy. All because of a scar he carried and the stories of what he had gone through with Annabeth and Thalia. Many people were still intimidated by him, despite his position as the counselor in Hermes and his job to welcome newcomers. It had been so long, he wasn’t sure if this was the way he was, or the way that he was made to be. 

As if reading his thoughts, you said, “You don’t have to be what they tell you to be. Do you know the words I use to describe you when someone asks me about you?” 

Unable to speak, Luke simply shook his head. 

“Gentle, kind, and lovely.” 

Luke wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but certainly nothing close to the words you had chosen. “You do not,” he objected. 

“I'm serious, baby,” you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in until your foreheads were touching. “I think you’re the most wonderful and caring guy I’ve ever met. I think you always have been, you just don’t always show it.”

He stared at you intently before pulling a loose strand of hair out of your face. You kissed the top of his head, “I must be one lucky girl.” 

“Hey, if there’s one thing I’m sure about, it’s that I’m the lucky one,” he said, before pulling you in for a kiss. 

[nocturnowlette]

I accidentally revealed a little experiment I was doing to my subject, today, so I finally get to tell you all about it.

I honestly didn't think that covert hypnotic triggers were a thing due to the constant annoying mysticism and years of bad science around hypnosis, as well as stuff like subliminals having absolutely zero actual effects. However, with some testing, I have been delightfully surprised.

To be clear, by a covert trigger, I do not mean a trigger that was given under trance explicitly then had the subject forget or be unaware of when used. I mean a trigger that is installed, reinforced, and used entirely without the subject noticing. It'd be more accurate to call this a preconscious trigger, but the linguistic gods disagree, I suppose.

I decided to use my favorite subject, and someone I'm close with in many ways. I've already trained general obedience into her over time, but have always allowed her to be rebellious because it's fun for the both of us. However...

There's a phrase I liked to use on occasion during trance and outside of it when I'm being a little gently degrading: the phrase, "Isn't that right?" at the end of sentences. Leading questions are natural for gentle domination, and I had already been doing it, so I decided to use it a little bit more often, and with intention.

For about two weeks straight, while under trance and while training general obedience or otherwise while messing with them, I would go, "Isn't that right?" exclusively for questions that were an absolute yes. There's no reason she wouldn't say yes to it, and so, she did, every single time.

The next week or two, I would start peppering in the phrase for slight disagreements. That's to say, things that were a yes, but something that she'd make a small fuss about normally to be rebellious. To my surprise, any time I used the phrase, all rebellion seemed to stop. I actually thought she caught on and was doing it intentionally, but she didn't respond when I signaled that to her.

A few weeks later, after more and more reinforcement, to the point where it was a very common part of my everyday vocabulary, I was able to completely quell any fire she brought up. I would do a short explanation or rationalization, then end the sentence with, "Isn't that right?", and poof, the rebellion goes away.

I accidentally revealed it today as stated due to showing a list of notes I used to keep track of triggers for subjects, but luckily, by the time she found out, it was one of the most potent triggers I had for her. It still works just fine.

Before she did find out, I finally got to hear what she sounded like after all the training when I said it out loud, as I mostly reinforced it via text. It sounded like her voice turned droopy and monotone entirely and only for when she agreed, then went back to normal. It was really, really cute, and I had to stifle a giggle or two.

Luckily, I didn't write down the other few covert triggers I have for her. I'll be having fun with those for a good while longer.

[cripplecharacters]

Disabilities that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More… part 1

[large text: Disabilities that You Should Consider Representing in Your Writing More… part 1]

While all disabilities are underrepresented in basically all sorts of media, it’s hard to not notice the trend in what disabilities make up the majority of representation. It’s especially visible when having a blog like this, where we can see what disabilities writers even consider including in their writing, and which ones never come up.

One in four people are disabled. With eight billion people alive it means there’s a lot of disabled people, and a lot of reasons why they are disabled in the first place - but this diversity is rarely represented, even on this blog, and anyone who has been following for a while has probably noticed that fact.

To be blunt: there are disabilities other than “amputee” and “(otherwise invisibly disabled) mobility aid user”. Does that mean that it’s wrong to write either of those? Of course not, and we don’t want to imply that it is. Does it mean that either of these have a ton of good representation? Hell no. Does it mean that when you are deciding on what to give your character, you should think beyond (or along! people can be multiply disabled!) just those two? Absolutely. Disability is a spectrum with thousands of things in it - don’t limit yourself for no reason and embrace the diversity that’s built into it instead. 

This is, simply, a list of common disabilities. This is just a few of them, as this is part one of presumably many (or, at least three as of right now). By “common” we rather arbitrarily decided on “~1% or more” - so at least 1 in 100 people has the disabilities below, which is a lot. Featuring!: links that you should click, sources of the % that are mostly just medical reports and might be hard to read, and quick, very non-exhaustive explanations to give you a basic idea of what these are. 

Intellectual disability (about 1.5%) Intellectual disability is a condition we have written about at length before. It’s a developmental disability that affects things such as conceptualization, language, problem-solving, or social and self-care skills. ID can exist on its own or be a part of another condition, like Down Syndrome, Congenital Iodine Deficiency, or Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders. This post covers a lot of basic information that you might need. We have an intellectual disability tag that you can look through!

Cancer survivors (5.4% in the US, about 0.55% worldwide) A cancer survivor is a pretty self-explanatory term. There is a lot of types of cancer and some of them are very common while others are very rare, which makes this a very diverse category. Cancers also have different survival rates. While not every survivor will have disabling symptoms, they definitely happen. Most of the long-term side effects are related to chemotherapy, radiation, and other medication, especially if they happened in children. They can include all sorts of organ damage, osteoporosis, cognitive problems, sensory disabilities, infertility, and increased rate of other cancers. Other effects include removal of the affected area, such as an eye, a spleen, breasts, or the thyroid gland, each of which will have different outcomes. Cancer, and cancer treatments, can also result in PTSD.

Diabetes (about 8.5%, ~95% of that are type 2) Diabetes is a group of endocrine conditions that cause hyperglycemia (high blood sugar) for various reasons depending on the type. The vast majority of people have type 2 diabetes, which can cause fatigue, poor healing, or feeling thirsty or hungry. A diabetic person will use insulin when needed to help manage their blood sugar levels. There are many complications related to diabetes, from neuropathy, to retinopathy, and chronic kidney disease, and there's a lot of disabilities that coexist with diabetes in general! You might want to check out the #how to write type 1 diabetes tag by @type1diabetesinfandom!

Disabling vision loss (about 7.5%) Blindness and low vision are a spectrum, ranging from total blindness (around 10% of legally blind people) to mild visual impairment. Blindness can be caused by countless things, but cataracts, refractive errors, and glaucoma are the most common. While cataracts cause the person to have a clouded pupil (not the whole eye!) blind eyes usually look average, with strabismus or nystagmus being exceptions to that fairly often (but not always). Trauma isn't a common cause of blindness, and accidents are overrepresented in fiction. A blind person can use a white cane, a guide dog or horse, or both. Assistive solutions are important here, such as Braille, screenreaders, or magnifying glasses. We have a blindness tag that you can look through, and you might want to check out @blindbeta and @mimzy-writing-online.

Psoriasis (about 2-4%) Psoriasis is a chronic skin condition with multiple subtypes; it can cause intense itching, pain, and general discomfort, and often carries social stigma. It’s an autoimmune and non-contagious disability that affects the skin cells, resulting in raised patches of flaky skin covered with scales. It often (30%) leads to a related condition, psoriatic arthritis, which causes joint pain, tenderness, and fatigue, among other things.

Stroke survivors (0.5-1%) A stroke survivor is a person who has survived any kind of stroke (ischemic, hemorrhagic, etc.). While the specific symptoms often depend on the exact location on where the stroke happened, signs such as hemiplegia, slurred speech, vision problems, and cognitive changes are common in most survivors to some degree. When someone has a stroke as a baby, or before they are born, it can result in cerebral palsy, epilepsy, and other disabilities. We have a brain injury tag that you can look through!

Noonan Syndrome (about 0.1-1% - mild is 1%, severe 0.1%) Noonan Syndrome is a disability that is almost never mentioned in any context, but certainly not around the topic of writing disabled characters. It’s a congenital condition that can cause cardiomyopathy, chronic joint pain, hypermobility, short stature, facial differences such as ptosis, autism, and various lymphatic problems among other things. Some people with Noonan Syndrome might use mobility aids to help with their joint pain.

Hyperthyroidism (about 1.2%) Hyperthyroidism is a condition of the endocrine system caused by hormone overproduction that affects metabolism. It often results in irritability, weight loss, heat intolerance, tremors, mood swings, or insomnia. Undertreated hyperthyroidism has a rare, but extremely dangerous side effect associated with it called a thyroid storm, which can be fatal if untreated.

Hypothyroidism (>5%) Hypothyroidism is an endocrine condition just as hyperthyroidism is, and it causes somewhat opposite symptoms. Due to not producing enough thyroid hormones, it often causes fatigue, depression, hair loss, weight gain, and a frequent feeling of being cold. It’s often comorbid with other autoimmune disabilities, e.g. vitiligo, chronic autoimmune gastritis, and rheumatoid arthritis. Extreme hypothyroidism can also be potentially fatal because of a condition known as Myxedema coma (or “crisis”), which is also rare.

Deafblindness (about 0.2-2%) Being DeafBlind is often considered to be an extremely rare disability, but that’s not really the case. DeafBlindness on its own isn’t a diagnosis - it can be caused by a wide range of things, with CHARGE syndrome (congenital), Usher syndrome (born deaf, becomes blind later in life), congenital rubella, and age-related deafness and blindness being some of the most common reasons. DeafBlindness is a wide spectrum, the vast majority of DeafBlind people aren’t fully blind and deaf, and they can use various ways of communication. Some of these could be sign language (tactile or not), protactile, the deafblind manual, oral speech (aided by hearing aids or not), the Lorm alphabet, and more. You can learn more about assistive devices here! Despite what various media like to tell you, being DeafBlind isn’t a death sentence, and the DeafBlind community and culture are alive and thriving - especially since the start of the protactile movement. We have a DeafBlindness tag that you can look through!

It’s probably worth mentioning that we have received little to no asks in general for almost all the disabilities above, and it’s certainly not due to what mods answer for. Our best guess is that writers don’t realize how many options they have and just end up going for the same things over and over.

Only representing “cool” disabilities that are “not too much while having a particular look/aura/drama associated” isn’t what you should aim for. Disabled people just exist, and all of us deserve to be represented, including those whose disabilities aren’t your typical “cool design” or “character inspo”. Sometimes we are just regular people, with disabilities that are “boring” or “too much”, and don’t make for useful plot points.

mod Sasza (with huge thank yous to mod Sparrow, Rot, and Virus for their contributions with research and data!)

[barnacles34]

Momentous Entropy (Yujin x Male Reader)

Yujin x Male Reader

Warning: Smut, 7k+ words

The door accelerated open, showing a peek of a small dorm. Yujin’s head popped out from the door’s side, her face entirely shaped by a beautiful smile— eyes morphed into two crescent moons facing downwards. 

Despite her giggling shyness, she stopped hiding behind the door. She welcomed me in, still with a brilliant smile, “Welcome Professor Eunwoo! Welcome to my dorm.” 

“I know it’s small compared to your penthouse or whatever you were talking about with your coworkers, but it’s great for deep, focused work.” She snuck in the stalker-level information in between two welcoming remarks.

“Thanks for welcoming me here.. Wait.. What?” I only caught the intrusion mid-sentence.

She knew I heard her—word for word. It was mutualistic to not ruin the moment with heedless questions in the specifics, we’d forgotten whatever we talked about a moment ago; rather, focusing on each other's faces.

Of course, I would never let her know. It’s an apprenticeship after all, I’d be brought down with all the academic reputation I have if I even considered anything remotely intimate.

As I entered her dorm, I noticed something unusual. She wore a formal skirt with a white shirt and even her hair seemed to have been carefully molded for a grueling amount of time. Why did she dress up so vibrantly even though all she wore outside were casual clothes? Of course, I would never look her up and down, that would be a grave mistake, my peripheral vision was enough, my imagination did the rest.

I looked away immediately when my imagination went onto a wholly inappropriate tangent, instead I appreciated the clean place, clean of a single speck, the wallpaper matted with a freshness that couldn’t be faked with a single day of cleaning; the nice smell loomed over the place, something flowery, something inherently feminine, I was beginning to feel out of place. 

There’s something poetic about a beautiful person being a beautiful human being as well, though I used two synonyms to describe something inherently different, I’m sure you get what I’m saying. She was good-looking, diligent, smart, clean, the list goes on and on. Sometimes attractive people have some of the most vapid, vanitous, vain lives; sometimes, it’s refreshing to see someone just so contrary to that common belief.

I was walking slowly while she went to her room to set up, I paced my steps to not seem awkward by standing too still or pacing around her entire dorm. 

She came out of the door, her eyes were not morphed by a smile, rather two large pupils akin to a labrador stared straight at me.

Some people’s stares immediately make you uncomfortable, angry even, their voided personality that can only be filled with continued staring. Yujin was rather supplemented by the stare, her intense rich inner-life always apparent, her natural charisma exuding throughout.

The thought was broken when Yujin said, “Mr. Eunwoo, before we get started, I know you forget some of the essential parts of life, like breakfast.” She swiftly went to the countertop, opening some cupboard and pulling out an already-prepared breakfast.

“Why do you have a full meal in the cupboard?” I was completely stumped, there is never anything consistent with Yujin.

“I don’t know, just in case, you know, if you tried to stop me from serving you breakfast.”

“Why do you want to serve me breakfast in the first place? This is inappropriate. Wholly.”

“Please!~ Just try it!” Her eyes glistened, displaying how determined she was to get me to taste it.”

I obliged her for once. The breakfast was great, it was just too foreign, everything was opposite of what I’ve lived on; familiarity lied in the dusty libraries, the cramped, yet cozy study rooms, the decrepit dorms. Yet, I’ve gotten too successful, my quality as an academic has deteriorated too quickly, the distracting throes of fame, money, power however unattractive were always pushed onto me by those I used to hold close. I’ve resented success for however long I’ve held it, never has it ever contributed to my learning.

Yet, could this be an aspect of success? An attractive young lady, serving breakfast, serving a jet black coffee with enough caffeine to sedate rather than stimulate. Hold on, how does she-

“How do you know my coffee preference?” I asked, again, alarmed.

“That’s–um, I don’t know, based on my deduction, you know, like your disheveled appearance, I just assumed you lived off of caffeine.” A smile formed again, this time, a smile of victory over me, a rare enough event for a celebration.

“You’d be right.” Slightly, I scoffed at her remark, gladly sipping the bitter coffee.

Just like that, she already made me feel welcome, warmed up to the most foreign of places.

How could she do that? Is it on purpose? I can’t just ignore the influence she has over me, even if she is a student and I, a professor. I’ve always fought, fought and fought for everything, everything; the simplest of things failed at least a dozen times. Do you understand the disparity of it all? From failing at least a hundred times to now, an empathetic kindness, a warm smile greeting me regularly. I’m aware the description is akin to describing a drug, an addiction, I’m completely aware of it, and I’m desperate. Desperate for this continued exchange, and that’s why I willingly, so perpendicularly of my nature, succumb.

When I snap back to reality, the calm environment filled my sensory world. The white walls are furnished with small plants attached to the wall. I looked back at the kitchen, to check if Yujin was still there—she had planted her elbows on the countertop that I was sitting at, on the other side, her chin held up by her two fists, her cheeks were slightly squished and she was staring directly into my eyes.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

“Nothing. You were so focused on that wall, I just thought it’d be interesting to stare at you.” That’s right, she’s also adept at mocking.

“Alright. Alright you brat, let’s get on with it. Where did we leave off last time?”

“Something about an assessment for me to continue being your apprentice.”

“Right. Right, I remember.”

“You don’t even carry around notes? For your ‘apprentice’?”

“Don’t need to”

“Ok, well, follow me, you’re gonna have to sit cross-legged on the floor.”

“Fine by me, lead the way.”

“Tired or sitting on gold-plated chairs, Mr. Eunwoooo?” Though her teasing was getting a little obnoxious, maybe the first-time visit to her dorm has her more anxious.

I scoffed at the reply, and followed to sit next to her on the coffee table, with enough distance as to make our apprenticeship obvious.

As do all our sessions, it starts cold, detached, at least compared to the end. Near the end, it becomes a warm haze, a studious discourse turns into something enjoyable, something that genuinely complements your life beneficially.

That’s also a reason why I continue to speak to Yujin. These unforeseen, unconsidered degrees of freedom had gone out of control, and inevitably, the attachment I had to being an academic was on its last string, its last stitch.

Only a fixation, a continued mutualistic companionship with Yujin has seemed to crutch my skill. And, I’m willing to go against all my morals to continue it.

It can be easily inferred that I’d let Yujin pass with flying colors to be my apprentice. Hiding it, though, is an entirely different story that I’d have to consider deeply through the assessment.

Of course, there’s always an optimism to expect in the radius of Yujin, the soft carpet, the flimsy coffee table. 

Despite this, the assessment was rough, she was missing questions on purpose, and I couldn’t call her out for it because I was purposely trying to modify it in a way that she was always somewhat correct; in academia, this was enough, more than enough, even ground-breaking. But, this wasn’t even close to enough for Yujin, she was already suspicious of my bullshittery and in the 5th question, a free-response that I’d modified. She frowned deeply, her eyes glistened in a sort of sadness.

She spoke with disappointment, mostly with herself, “Why are you trying to make me pass? It’s obvious that the answers that I have are completely wrong, I can tell in the glint of your eyes.”

In order to trick Yujin, I’d have to have a near perfect system—a small gear falling out was all it took for Yujin to catch it. 

“Before you freak out, these are questions for my PHD students, you’re a freshman, of course I’d have to modify it.”

“But why are you teaching me, an undergrad, instead of your usual PHD students?”

“Huh?” I was stumped, she was as intelligent as a fox.

Her eyes were melancholic, dark with a sort of sadness, disappointment.

“Why do you teach me?” She added on, then continued, “all your students did nearly the same thing as I did to gain some sort of favor, perhaps I tried slightly harder. I guess I argued with you a little more, challenged your authority, but anyone that did that was swiftly punished by you. I guess I was more insistent to be taught but you shoved off anyone that did that, except me. Why me? You’re not doing it for the money, you have plenty of it and I don’t have any. This doesn’t progress your career as well, you’re teaching a freshman about something that’s so ingrained that you don’t need notes for it.” Slowly her deduction processed what she was saying, and she was getting dangerously close to the answer.

I’d have to go on a tangent to another reason.

“I don’t know, maybe that you’re particularly bright, and I mean it, I know you feel like an idiot sometimes; it’ll never be as bad as how I felt it, god, if I was half as smart as you are when I was a freshman, I might’ve found the philosopher’s stone by now.”

“You’re so bad at giving compliments.” She laughed into her forearms that went to wipe her not-yet flowing tears. 

“I mean it.” I replied quickly.

“No you don’t”

“If I tried to do an apprenticeship with my freshman self I’d be on death row the second day.”

It seemed to brighten the mood, she laughed harder, and.... and cried harder into her knees.

Confused by the contradiction of her actions, I just looked away, trying to offer some measure of comfort by just being present.

“I’m sorry, when I sta-start crying I just can’t stop.”

Even when she’s crying, a torrent of emotions pouring out, I don't feel uncomfortable.

“I’m here, Yujin, I’ll wait.”

“Thank you, Mr. Eunwoo-hick-it’s not your fault, I just feel extra emotional these days…”

Everytime she tried to continue with the assessment, her tears seemed to continue flowing, albeit a little slower.

“Hold my hand Mr. Eunwoo.”

“What?”

She sniffled, “Just hold it, it’ll help me stop crying.”

“Alright, alright.” I said as calmly as possible, not saying anymore, grasping her hand tightly.

She was sniffling—not crying—beside me, the distance that we had had closed a little. To say this was a foreign experience was an understatement, a relevant example would be to compare it to would be: a cat in zero gravity, I’d recommend watching some videos of it.

Yet I didn’t feel any reflexive reaction to this novel experience, I only held harder and felt ever-present in the experience

Suddenly, she whimpered, her hand reflexively moved.

“Ow, sorry, I’m not yet used to the tight grip.” She softly said.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, I like it, continue.” Her head finally seemed to release from her damp forearms, her eyes were slightly red. 

As I grasped her hand to a firm level, she put her head on the couch seat, her hair slightly splaying out, her eyes looking at the ceiling.

She whispered, “I know you like me.”

“I-” A flourish of heat went straight to my face, everything seemed to be burning down today.

“I like you too.” She continued.

“Please, think about what you’re saying.” I sputtered out, trying to adjust her projected advance.

“I can’t hide it anymore, I just can’t. I’m delicate, I have my heart on my sleeve… but I’ve never been so sure of it—nothing else has ever made me feel this way: no friend, no family member, no passion. You can continue saying that I’m naive, that it’s my first time, that it’ll pass…” Her words start becoming a jumble, as if all that she wanted to get out in a short manner wasn’t enough, as if all that crying was because of what she had to say.

She continued, “I know you’re a professional, that no matter what I say, you’ll decline, even if you liked me. I had to cry because of it, not because I was getting things wrong, I could care less about that… It was the fact that I can no longer handle admiring you from afar, I had to vocalize my appreciation, even if it was all for naught.”

After a brief silence, she continued, “I just had to get this off my chest, even if you despise me now, even if you run away now.” 

She looked away, expecting me to walk away while giving her a stare of pure hatred.

She was still looking at the ceiling, trying to prevent more tears from flowing down. I leaned my head back on the couch seat and looked at the ceiling.

“I love you.” I finally said, shaky with a risky determination.

“What?” 

“I love you.”

Her hand gripped tightly, her hands were noticeably shaking.

“What now?” She stuttered out.

“I don’t fucking know.” I sighed—sighing deeper than I’ve ever sighed—I also felt an immense pressure release from something grabbing me from within.

“Why don’t we go ahead with the assessment?” 

“After all that?”

“Yeah, I mean I feel like a huge burden has been lifted, I just wanna see if I perform better.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.” I pulled my head from the couch seat, and sat—facing her. 

After a lengthy discourse, one that stretched for more than an hour judging by how we both had to correct our posture at least a dozen times. And, within that discourse, Yujin was infallible, every question was answered with lengthy consideration with the nuance, the specificity, the word choice. 

Near the end, it went something like this: “Foucault’s theory states that the evolving system of penal systems aligns, or in parallel, with everything around us. Before, in medieval ages, violent spectacles of blood and gore were prioritized as punishment, no additional consideration for the esotericism within. Whereas, now, the spectacle of violence is wholly shunned and penal systems focus on shaping the soul, rehabilitating the mind. However, the application of this idea has been rather controversial, and it could be explained with the idea of the panopticon: with the growing concern of shaping the mind, which is almost like a black box, penal systems have a growing habit of surveilling more and more.”

Yujin stared at me for some sort of confirmation.

“And?” I waited expectantly.

“And, this panopticon can be applied to anything, schools, hospitals, even changing cultural norms.”

“Wow, I have to say, how much did you prepare prior to this?”

“Prior to this? A lot, a lot of work.” Her voice was confident, a far cry from her whimpering only a moment ago.

“How do you not sleep in my lectures considering the fact that this material is so much more advanced than the class you take?”

“I can just stare at you.” Her head was getting closer—I didn’t care. In the beginning of the assessment, we were separated by plenty of space—enough to clearly show it was a professional exchange. By the end, we were shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side, speaking cordially, even despite our physical contact.

“Awfully bold for someone who cried in front of her professor for like half an hour straight.”

“Ugh! Don’t remind me.” Her face cringed.

I bit my lip, looking down—the mood was serene, it’s just that I keep getting reminded that I’m willingly participating in a mutual seduction between professor and student.

Fuck all of it.

I pulled my hand out of her hand—before she could demand that I return my hand—I wrapped my arm around her upper back, with my hand wrapping at the end of her shoulder.

Her posture straightened during the process, of course the forbidden path was still on her mind, still latent and not yet brought to fruition. But she quickly adapted, she looked to her side, at me, smiling warmly.

“It’s so amazing. How many hints have I had to give out?”

“Don’t act like you manipulated me to do this.”

“How else would the great Eunwoo betray his values? Just a wisp in the wind?”

“You brat, don’t forget my honorifics.”

“What? I couldn’t hear you… Eunwoo.”

I quickly pull her in, with my hand shielding the back of her head before I pushed her onto the floor, a soft tuft sound. I was on top of her, between the couch and coffee table, with her legs locked between mine.

Her doe eyes were on full display, her large pupils were somehow dwarfed by her eyelids which opened wider, the whites of her eyes under and above the pupil visible. She was shocked, taboo aside, it’s likely she’s never even experienced something like this.

“Can I kiss you?” Four words. These four words were all that I could think of, fantasize about for these past months. She’d accept of course, they all did—in the past. Still, there’s an immeasurable tension, an uncertainty without even weighing in the consensual agreement. 

Perhaps some part of the tension was the taboo, that a professor was about to ruin the makeup of a freshman; smudge her lipstick, suck her lips until they were swollen; the condensation of love-making staining, blending in the carefully sculpted makeup with her natural beauty.

I didn’t hear the agreement, in part due to the fact that Yujin herself brought her head up to kiss me. Unfortunately, some care was forgotten, the way I had to grab Yujin's head led to a soft collapse onto the carpet, her head making a soft thump, our teeth clicking from the force. A collaborative soft chuckle escaped through the smallest of air leaks between our lips—a testament to our dedication to continue kissing, then it was airtight again, her soft lips glided over mine, her taste so feminine, so ephemeral.

It was obvious she was chaste, perhaps even ‘unclaimed’, her virginal lips were erratic, confused, yet so fucking shamelessly hot. Her low moans vibrated more in my mouth, goading me further, to enter deeper into her soft, welcoming mouth.

Slowly, steadily, our tongues entwined, the kiss was less air tight to allow for a more dynamic, sensual french kiss. Her mouth was begging, I was obliging, there was never a fairer exchange, as if her mouth was made for mine, and hers for mine. 

Suddenly, she managed to push me over, until I was face-up, staring into Yujin’s eyes. This was the first time our eyes met during the makeout session, there wasn’t a single word that could explain what we needed to do; besides, our glazed eyes, slick with lust, spoke more than a one-dimensional tool like language. A small chuckle escaped our lips when our lips met in the middle, her head positioning lower, my head higher in the air, until my goading hands, entwined in her angelic soft hair pulled her head down. Our lips slotted in like perpendicular lines, no matter how awkward it felt, it just felt right, as if it were the most lustful way of expressing our unbridled affectations.

My hands explored her clothed body, exploring the beauty on me—who is restlessly, yet in a fierce, virginal way exploring every inch of my mouth—her beautiful curves were soft, pliant, firm, any press had an opposing force—an illegally soft opposing force. She was an angel—an angel on top of me, unaware of how much I wanted to ruin her.

“You’re going to regret it.” I say, in between wet kisses on Yujin’s lips. “This is the only thing I’ve been sure of.” Yujin replied, her voice husky with a sort of mindlessness that only the kiss could’ve caused. I reply, scaldingly, “I’m going to fucking ruin you.” Still trying to warn her, of course, there was a mind and body separation. I was completely, utterly, under the seduction of Yujin, no matter how much I warned her. We both knew, that I wouldn’t hesitate to fuck her all over the dorm—not even for a millisecond. “Please, huff, that's all I’ve ever wanted, all I could think ever about… to be by your side through it all.” She pressed another kiss, a brief one, “The messy way you keep your desk, and how happy I am to organize it, how obliging I am. You’ve seduced me without knowing, before you ever even thought about me I’ve imagined millions of scenarios with you by my side.” Another kiss, a light peck, “Imagine the pride I felt when I found you left your suitcase by the chair in the library, to serve you measurably. It was just ordinary for you, but, but… it was the seventh heaven for me…”

Yujin was systematically removing every screw, with a perfectly fit screwdriver. Whether Yujin was conscious of it or not; she was kryptonite, the way her soft thighs brush against the sides of your abdomen, the soft feeling of her breasts, dipping onto my chest.

I needed to do more, with our mouths still connected, I sat up. Her ass was on my lap, the changing sensory world didn’t matter to her, all she wanted to do was oblige in the kisses. It didn’t even phase her once when I picked her up, standing, only, her legs locked herself in place to continue our mouth-to-mouth connection. I began my march to her bedroom, optimized to the utmost degree, every small peek I had of her bedroom perfectly aiding in this desperate situation—where I have to fuck Yujin for the remaining day, then the next, perhaps even forever; if only time would allow it so.

Her body clung to mine as I pressed her against the bed. This time, I had to pull off the heat of my loins unbearably tight, wanting—of new sensations. I could only imagine how ridiculous I looked, given how swollen Yujin’s lips were, I could only imagine how bad it must be—of course, the imagery was supplemented with Yujin's soft giggle, her eyes staring at my mouth.

I finally got to rid Yujin of her treacherous t-shirt—one that blocked the view of her perfect breasts, her perfect abdomen. Her lithe, firm body was running every gear in my head, on how to perfectly ravish—to perfectly mark with my actions. Yujin could only stare, wide-eyed, she doesn’t know what happens after, a little virgin, there needn't be a single statement clarifying this—I’ve already explored her enough to conclude so. I press into her, my mouth near her ears, “Don’t worry Yujin, you’ll just be under the greatest pleasure of your life, helplessly moaning—squealing on your professor’s face.” All she could reply with was a deep, sensual moan that would seem like someone pressed into her lungs, that’s how deep it was. Slowly, but surely, I shift down, letting my fingers grip onto her godly skin, leaving vertical white trails on her skin until her pelvis; when I hook her skirt, off. 

I could immediately feel the goosebumps on her thighs, where the warmth, the security of the skirt—or the lack thereof—provided some protection of her core, her wet little core. I stare into her eyes again. My stature of a well-respected professional is gone—only an animalistic drive to nail the hottest woman in the world through the bed. The dynamic of professor and student, no matter how fucked up, no matter how morally corrupt—or nefarious; began to turn me on instead of inhibit, it seems so to for Yujin as well, the stain of her arousal clear. 

Her arms seemed to retract to her chest, her forearms squeezed her breasts together; though, I’m sure that wasn’t intended, rather, it was likely to protect her little throbbing heart from the sensations, that heart she had on her sleeve. Despite my raging erection, my raging lust, I was inclined to treat her like porcelain, at least that part of me wasn’t totally exhausted. Except when Yujin said, “I’m not so fragile, daddy, break me.” Uncontrollably, greedily I pressed my mouth against her wetness, kissing around the soft skin. The wetness radiated, even under a layer of cloth, albeit a very flimsy, sexy, cloth. 

Small whimpers rung out, vibrating the surface of her glossy skin around her heat after every small peck I placed on her inner thighs. Her legs were between my head, her thighs rested above my shoulder. As Yujin stared with a dogged innocence, a beautiful hesitance—-I hooked the side of her panty. I pulled—softly, making sure the wet cloth makes as much contact, frictional force with her pink core. The gift wrapping revealed something divine, the lightest pink you can imagine, glossy with something that only be arousal. Slowly, I dipped my tongue into her core—it was unimaginably comfortable, the way her pussy felt on my tongue, a sort of hot soft-serve that got molded by your tongue. But it didn’t taste like anything, that’s when a realization hit: she spent an inordinate amount of time preparing, making sure that every part of her was ripe for a nice fuck, and slowly guided me into her siren-like seduction. I patted the side of her ass, giving a grin—as nasty as I could make it, a sign of things I was about to do, a sort of payback for her masterful manipulation. She stared back, her open mouth, the visible teeth morphed into a half-smile, still focused on how pleasurable my tongue was on her pussy. Immediately, I placed my finger on her clit, pressing softly against it, then circling it before I dipped my tongue deeper into her unimaginably tight hole. Her breathing went faster, her lower-half rubbed softly—even resisting when the pleasure was far too much. Of course, that’s not what she signed up for—she signed up for a grueling fucking, a rough marking by her beloved professor. 

10 seconds, only 10 seconds after the eye-contact, she came all over the bed. Her juices flowed freely, painting her inner thighs in some beautiful glossy coating. Her abdomen tensed in a rough hyperventilation, her cries grew higher and loud before she released into a deep moan. I tried to get as much of her juices on my fingers as possible, before letting her take it in the mouth—making her taste the fruits of her efforts, then spreading the saliva on my fingers over her chin.

“You taste amazing by the way.” I stated, waiting for some explanation.

“This is how I taste, always.” She panted, justifying it all.

“It wasn’t just a carefully constructed ruse to bed me?”

She scoffed, “What kind of evil bitch do you think I am? I’m beginning to worry about what type of woman you bedded before me to make you think pussy tastes bad.” Scoffing, her chest heaving, all glistened up.

“I’m a virgin too, I wouldn’t know.” I replied, jokingly.

This time, she whimpered, “That’s… Ugh” I felt a resistance, then a strong push, she was suddenly saddened at the prospect of being just another lady bedded, another number. While she focused on the sentiment, my eyes, my lustful gaze only landed on her body. Of course, there’s always an opportunity after every resistance—an opposing force against the applied force. Her head was positioned away, stubbornly opposing, but she left her bare neck—her smooth, thin neck—too openly. 

Thus, my lips ended up on her smooth neck---squeezing out her pitiful moans. "Ungh~stop~! I'm still sensitive." She squeaked, her little throat muscles striated in trying to get her meek statement out. Fuel to the fire, it was only fuel to the fire, like a flame retardant---such as water---only strengthening the flame.

I marked her neck full of light bruises, ones that'll be dark tomorrow---dark in how badly I've wanted to possess her. Truly, I've gone insane. My mouth traced a path, from her soft, bruised neck down her bosom. Her nipples were framed with perky breasts, soft with a delicate femininity that she curated so diligently, so meticulously. Her little squeaks, pleads, exited her cute mouth faster, almost as much as when I ate her pussy. It was due to the multi-task that I engaged in, devouring her breast, whilst my hand massaged the other---less fortunate---breast.

Slowly, I released myself from her delicious breasts, still insatiable, pressed down on her breasts, my index fingers gliding, gripping against her nubs as if it were joysticks---literal joy sticks. Her breasts were painted in a beautiful pink hue, from how I used her, how I marked her---initially whitened from the pressure, then pink, then likely to be red for the rest of the day.

"Eunwoo..." she was splayed out on the bed, utterly satisfied---still with an enthusiastic gaze. "I want to suck your cock." She stated, matter of fact. "I want you to paint my mouth in your seed." she continued. "Let your seed fill my belly, the remains coating my chin..." her movements after each statement, in the silence, moved to push me on my back as she got up from her back. "Because, Professor, Eternal Love? Was that the title? And who was the love interest? If I didn't forget, it was... Khujin? As brilliant as you are, your naming conventions leaves a lot to be desired, I mean come on, it sounds oddly familiar." She completely pushed me over; I was slightly paralyzed with the discovery that she read what I was writing---it wasn't remotely family friendly, and perhaps, aimed towards her. Her eyes stared at me with knowing eyes, what exactly I desired from her at that moment; her lithe, perky body was positioned between my legs, kneeling, preparing to dip her mouth into eternal lust.

"From then on... Khujin took the face-fucking, dutifully, sexually, despite the size with which she was confronted with, took it. Her mouth ached, was pained, though, not in a conventional way; it ached in the desire to take him deeper." She just... requoted the entire sequence perfectly word-for-word from the paper.

Fuck!

There's nothing left to protect, nothing left to resist, we were unclothed, our secrets revealed, there was nothing left except our mutual wish to ravage each other until dawn. Our enlarged pupils---almost alien---met each other, glazed in some atypical determination. Finally, her head lowered and lowered before her tongue placed a meek lick on my cock. Then kisses, then a mix of licks while her hands clenched my wrists---signaling some sign that I shouldn't interfere, that I should enjoy this requited vindication.

Her mouth---even if virginal---provided some of the greatest relief. Her soft lips, erratic, still provided relief from my swollen tip. Her rookie mistakes, the slight graze of teeth, the meddling tongue only seemed to heighten the experience.

"You're a naughty fucking professor." She said, slightly biting down on the head, getting the intended reaction out of me---a great spasm. "Writing porn of a character that exactly resembles me. Mmmm naughty... so fucking naughty.."

"You're a horny, good-for-nothing student, Yujin."

We were fighting while she shallowly sucked in between her sentences, listening thoughtfully with a cock between her lips.

"I remember when you left that jacket at the library, I stole it. Then, I smelt it everyday, the cologne, the detergent, the natural smell. When you slept around I could smell it, the faint flowery smell alien to your scent."

She released her grip on my wrists, instead grabbing my dick, to better stimulate---to better punish. Her mouth hollowed out, the suction tremendously pleasing, the way she tongued at the underside of my shaft showing her real-time improvement. Then she popped my shaft out of her mouth again.

Somehow, she was angry again.

"Do you have nothing to say?" Yujin asked---irritatingly.

"I'm here now, Yujin."

"Idiot."

Her mouth went back, into the irresistible motions that she quickly figured out. Her head bobbed faster, I felt immensely relieved, yet I also felt an unbelievable greed, a sort of ripple between two identities in parallel, fighting for ultimate control.

I quickly and harshly gripped her hair, led her mouth down to the hilt---her low choke lubricated the hilt. Her fingers lightly tapped the sides of my thighs, with her perfect nails, the smooth skin, such a brave contrast to what was happening to her mouth. Her mouth suctioned again, not a word needed for preparedness, only the motions of our sexual organs were enough. Slowly, my grip on her hair went down to her scalp, a firmer place to grasp, to debase her identity further.

Her lips dragged long and hard, the suction felt stronger---the feeling of pulling out from her mouth harder than going in at this point. Her lips occasionally touched the base on my cock, only edging me closer. Until, I peaked, I growled as the first rope of cum landed deep into her throat. Even in this constricted, breathless stance where her dick was so deep in her throat that her throat reddened, her glazed puppy eyes stared back, almost a sign of some sort of sick victory over me. Then a second splash, the pressure so strong you'd think the flow was laminar---though I wouldn't know, her sexy throat hid it all. My head flew back, the relief of it all so strong, ropes turned into strings, strings turned into nothing---only the sensation of a suckling swallow could be felt on my sensitive tip.

There was no brief awkward silence, her mouth released in a godly erotic fashion. Her spittle still gathered on my cock, the spit strands coating her chin, her tongue clear and empty of the load I covered the insides of her mouth with.

She smiled so brightly - so happily. Her hands patted me on the thighs, trying to help me reconcile the fact that I throat-fucked a college freshman, the age gap already taboo, the fact that we were professor and student - only worsened it.

Her eyes were slightly red, the hint of tear trails on her face apparent. So badly did I want to hold her dear to my body, let the warmth of my chest keep her snug, let her rest. Yet, her reddened tits, her confused doe-like puppy eyes, her confused face, the slight glistening of her inner thighs goaded me endlessly. From that point on, I hadn't even realized I was hovering over her body. We were really gonna do it, I was gonna fuck her on her own bed, this beautiful, smart student.

"You really are an idiot" I say.

"Why? Because I like you? Because you're some respected higher up that I shouldn't entertain having a relationship with?"

It was that word: relationship. What are we gonna become-

"Eunwoo... master... professor... I don't just offer up my virginity to anyone... if you think I'm that easy to offer myself up to anyone - you're fucking crazy."

"You're a seduction master." I chuckle, letting her know the weakness of my self-control.

"If I'm a seduction master, then you're - I don't know - like Alain Delon." her hands hooked the nape of my neck, she was positioned so delicately, ready for whatever I wanted to do to her.

"I want this because I love you, Eunwoo."

"Who would've thought our little freshman is such a romantic, huh?" As I nuzzled my face into the side of her neck, give soft licks to her soft neck - her soft face a contrast to my stubbled jaw.

"Regardless of whether you insert your shaft inside me or not. I'll still follow you, to the ends of the earth, until you file a restraining order- Ah~!"

a single finger entered her, "Shh Yujin, An Yujin - all that pining to give up after a restraining order? I'll have to get you drunk on my dick, so that even the splitting of the earth won't deter you."

She squeaked, she definitely came, she definitely fucking came - hah. I let the finger exit slow, slowly trailing the wet finger up her abdomen - a sort of trail forming.

Finally, I palmed my dick, staring, realizing that I didn't have a condom. "Oh fuck - I don't have a condom" saying my thought out loud, she butts in, "Doesn't matter, please, anything - please." Her desperation clear in her tone - her fingers gripping dearly onto me.

"Who said anyone's leaving?" This time, her eyes were even wider. It was time, she knew it, I knew it, each step an acceleration to a barrier that we kept raising - was there even a barrier anymore? The depravity... the soulful acknowledgement of this cording relationship rose the hairs on my entire body; the blood in my chest frantically seemed to disperse, trying to control itself, to also control my entire body.

Though, if Yujin is under me, begging to be fucked - so hellbent, her glazed and aroused eyes pleading for some sinful contract. If only she knew - how much I'd do - there needn't be a single contract. I couldn't ever control myself anyway, what's there to deny?

Slowly - slowly - entered her, her sopping wetness gladly parted with some paradoxical resistance. The more I entered, the more her pussy resisted, the more her pussy pulled me in. The most sinful sounds, even more so than those of a minute ago, the squelch of a virgin hole being stretched - fuck, holy fuck.

"Ngghhh~ holy shit, please, more!" She desperately tried to close her mouth, aware of the lack of noise canceling. The way her mewls and moans exited between the tightest clasp of her mouth, the way her twinkled, the exasperation of a different type of pain stretching, beautifying her already goddess-like face. "I love it! Eunwoo~", that earned her a full stroke to the hilt. I grabbed the hand off her mouth - the way her face morphed into fear was beautiful, she was close to her neighbors - those neighbors who were about to hear Yujin's highest shrieks, highest orgasms. Another stroke, then another, I couldn't even describe how sinful her sounds were, shrieks, moans, deep to high - the sheer entropy of her mannerisms clearly showing her arousal. The next door neighbors would know, even the vertical neighbors would know. If they saw me entering her home, then I'm fucked - yet, I can't stop fucking her, the way her hips rotate and drift off my cock, the way her pussy lips wrap so tightly, so snug around my length.

I began pounding away, her thin waist acclimating to my tight grip, the way her breasts bounced when her ass slapped against my loins; who said missionary was boring? The way I kneeled, the way her body angled at a point - true rookie mistake - I kept pounding away at her g-spot. How many times she came - I wouldn't know - but the amount of liquid dispersed all over us, a mix of sweat and whatever else was definitely a clue. The way my length explored her insides so thoroughly, the way I'm pretty sure I bottomed her out, bound to bruise her cervix; the way her moans grew more unhinged, her eyes slowing going back inside her head, her arms almost unresponsive.

Until.

Until, Yujin grabbed onto me, it wasn't an ordinary grip, a nuanced grip that lovers of decades could understand - I'm sure there's some hidden meaning in that. The way her soft fingers grabbed my forearm while she laid down - panting with sweat, the glow of sex, possibly covered in her squirt. I made sure to stop at exactly when the base of my length met with her pussy - immersing myself in her beautiful warmth, sheathed in her velvety walls.

"Eunwoo - please slow down, I'm not going anywhere, by the next half-hour we'll be walking skeletons..."

This time, still plugged with my length I pulled her up, face-to-face where she sat on the slope of my kneel - adjusting myself accordingly to not destroy my knees.

"How could I Yujin? Light of my life, fire of my loin-"

She playfully slapped my shoulder

"Why are you referencing Lolita!?" in a giggling manner, understanding all at once.

"Careful where you slap your hands around, Yujin."

"Hm? What're you gonna do-mm!" A closed reaction to receiving a deep kiss. Slowly, my arms slithered around her back, to make sure that she doesn't fall - but, mostly to ensure that I could fuck her, utterly, fully under my control.

The way her eyes shined, with a deep desire - some atypical lust - yet still somehow looking so innocent, as if brilliant gems were in place of her pupils. Every time I get to stare at her, especially now that our eyes were separated by the width of a nose, I feel glad that someone - just someone like that exists, even better with the fact that we cohabit this area, and even better that our lips slip against each other. The act of exchanging saliva - a deeply disturbing thought - hadn't registered in us at all, only desire and love.

Slowly, her moans left her pretty mouth with emphasis - clearly enjoying the slower pace in which I gave these decrepit kisses to her cervix. Her velvety folds seemed to contract even more spastically - the movement easier, yet tighter, yet harder, parenthetically a paradox.

If only such paradoxes were this pleasurable.

"I'm gonna cum, Yujin." The sounds were absolutely vicious, viscous with the repeated slapping of our loins, the cold strands of her juices landing on my thighs whenever her pink core left the base of my length. "Eunwoo, give it to me, inside, everything." I tried to object; "Eunwoo, shhh, don't try to talk sense with me - it's too late for that, if you don't spill your biggest seed inside me, I'll chase you around the world."

"A restraining order?" I replied, curious for a response.

"And that'll stop me? After getting drunk on your dick, as you said? " She replied back, serious.

"You're right baby." I pumped into her deeper, slanting a little to get topological synchronicity: my chest fully in contact with her chest, the warmth compared to the biting cold of the environment only goading us on further. The way her soft, perky breasts pooled on my chest made my pumps only deeper - kisses more passionate.

"What if I do? What if I cum inside you?" Our eyes were level, engaging in a seriously serious topic. All care should've been granted to the topic - of course, we both knew the pending event.

"Then, presumably, understandably, I'll be by your side - with your favorite tea, massaging your soreness. And maybe, just maybe, nursing a little Eunwoo." Fuck! I hugged her tight - too tight. The small of her back caved in with my tight hug as I mashed my dick inside her swollen pussy. The way she moaned was less noticeable, she was so focused on receiving the load - breathing into the side of my neck, playing with my hair, exacting some stimuli to wring me out dry.

Her body perfectly molded into my force. Her ass molded against my tough thighs, her hard nipples poked my chest expectedly. When, just when, the hypothetical situation with Yujin - of a filial future - flashed in my mind, the first release of semen launched inside her. Ribbons of her deepest desire filled her - indulging her. We kissed - the natural course as expected when I released inside her.

Ropes of semen turned into strings, then finally - nothing. We embraced each other, I still hugged her just as tight, she hugged back with the delicacy of an angel.

"Yujin..."

"Holy shit." She replied.

Holy shit was right.

"-Like holy fucking shit." I emphatically replied.

Her gem-like pupils looked at me, her entire face turned into a smile.

"You'll have to call me wife from now on."

"Hm?" Fully not processing her request.

"Call me wife behind closed doors."

"Why?"

"Because.. why not?"

After a swift thought - one that didn't really have any substance at all - "Wife... wife... rolls off the tongue nicely."

She gave a peck on my lips, "make sure that it rolls off the tongue as easy as it does now... I'll want to hear it everyday."

"Wifey... who's cleaning the bed?" I jokingly inquired - of course, the truth was that the bed wouldn't dry in a day, and the way we are right now: the overflowing semen was still plugged inside her - with my cock.

Though, that would be a worry that could be taken care of later. Right now, the half-life of our post-sex fatigue finished - the other half to be finished when our lips met again.

Fin.