#which given how they are irl... is it really a surprise?

[hyukalyptus]

office hours — professor!soobin x gradstudent!reader

cw. chubby!reader, reader is an adult grad student, minimal age gap, clear consent, petnames (babe, baby, honey, darling, good boy), mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected penetration, creampie, cunnilingus, handjobs, ending is cheesy, "epilogue" of sorts involves christmas vibes, kissing, please lmk if i'm missing anything. NSFW/MDNI notes. i would feel irresponsible if i didn't acknowledge this is a romanticized portrayal of a professor-student relationship. while the relationship in this story has clear consent multiple times, irl relationships like this can be inappropriate and exploitative bc of the authority imbalance. you deserve a healthy, consensual relationship. prioritize ur well-being and autonomy. relationships should be built on mutual respect, equality and clear consent. this is a work of fiction and should be read as such. shoutout to @silvergyus for sending the prof!soob pic <3 wc. 11.6k

“Which brings us to Le Chatelier's Principle in real-world chemical reactions,” Professor Choi says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This will be review for most of you, so I won’t go into too much detail.” 

Chemistry is your favorite thing in the world. It’s real-life magic. And Professor Choi sees it that way too. His olive green chinos are wrinkled from walking from his office. The sleeves of his white button-down are pushed up so he can write freely on the whiteboard while his burgundy tie sways with his scurries. 

Sparks of passion fill his eyes as he lectures. And he never disappoints with his cheesy jokes. Although you seem to be the only one that laughs at them—maybe you’re the only one that gets them. Not many students in his class are the experts in chemistry you are. You took it as a break from your intense course load and the elective credits are a nice bonus. 

Most of your professors are so old they barely know how to turn on their laptop and are so deep into their tenure they’ve given up. If you bothered showing up to their office hours, you’d be lucky to find a professor, let alone a helpful one. So you’ve become a frequent visitor in Professor Choi’s office hours, talking about advanced chemistry he can’t wait to teach but it’ll be at least five years before he can. In the meantime, he’ll settle for nerding out with you in his office for a few hours every week.

“Great class today, everyone,” he says. “Have a great weekend and don’t hesitate to visit me during my office hours with any questions!” That sentence started out as a normal speaking voice but ended up a shout over the shuffling of the desk chairs and backpacks. You’re typically the last one out, but you save your questions for his office hours tomorrow. 

-

“Hi,” you say, lightly tapping your knuckle against his office door.

Turning around in his chair, his lips form a pout in surprise at seeing you. “Were you waiting outside? Sorry that meeting ran a little long—” He shuffles to organize his desk. 

“That’s okay.” Adjusting your bag on your shoulder, he rests his hands on his thighs and looks up at you. Did he just look you up and down? Don’t be ridiculous. 

“What can I do ya for?”

“Right,” you start. “Can I…?” You ask, motioning toward the spare chair, waiting for his nod before sitting. “You know Professor Vaughn’s class?” You barely catch it, but his eyes roll. Professor Vaughn is the worst professor you’ve had. Boring, harsh, impatient. It doesn’t help he teaches one of the most complex forms of chemistry. “I’m not really getting this week’s content and was wondering if you could help me.”

“Of course.” He smiles. And it’s devastating. The sparkle in his eyes and those dimples. Craning his neck to look at your notes riddled with red question marks, he nods. As soon as he sees the title of your notes, he says, “Let’s think about this from a quantum mechanical perspective. If we assume that the π-complex is forming, we’re talking about a stabilization due to delocalization π-electrons, right?”

In what feels like no time at all, an hour has passed and the conversation has been the complete opposite of Professor Vaughn’s lectures. Questions led down rabbit holes, leading to other theorems and more questions. As he glances up at you through his glasses, there is an undeniable tingle in your stomach.

It’s not like you haven’t noticed how attractive Professor Choi is. He’s tall, lean but undeniably strong, he has the most perfect silky black hair and the prettiest brown eyes, and his pout—indescribably cute. And again—those goddamn dimples. He’s the perfect mixture of sexy, handsome, and pretty. You’d never think of doing anything with a professor, but you can’t help your mind wanders during the slower lectures. 

How long have you been staring at each other in silence? Too long probably. He clears his throat. “Well,” he says, looking at his watch. “My office hours have been over for a few—”

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you say, stumbling as you stand, attempting to gather your things as quickly as possible. But he shakes his head, trying to shrug it off. 

“That’s okay,” he says. “I, uh, I just have my emails waiting for me.”

You nod, shoving everything into your bag and heading out the door. What was that? You’re probably overreacting, you think to yourself. He’s charming because of his looks, there’s no way he’d— No. Don’t even finish that thought. 

-

"How is it that someone who scored the highest in my theoretical chemistry exam is turning basic lab work into a spectacle of incompetence?" Professor Vaughn boasts over your right shoulder. No doubt his thick eyebrows are furrowed.

As your hands tighten around the test tube, you know exactly what to do—you always do—but everything slips through your fingers in his class. 

"I’m trying to get the reaction to stabilize," you stammer, eyes darting between your hands, the chemical reagents lined up on the table, and your notebook.

Professor Vaugn’s expression hardens as he steps closer, looking down his nose at your station. "Trying is for high school sophomores. If you’re still trying, you’re behind."

Taking a deep breath, you carefully add three more drops to the mixture but the reaction goes wrong. Again. A plume of white smoke rises from the beaker, and the liquid turns an unexpected, muddy brown.

"Unbelievable," Vaughn mutters loud enough for everyone to hear. Everyone knows you’re the best student in your class. Well, everyone except Soren, who’s so jealous of your intelligence they can hardly stand it. They simply smirk. "I expected more from you."

Your heart sinks. You checked those calculations three times. Maybe it’s your shaky hands. Or the pressure of him looming over your shoulder. Or the other stuff on your mind. 

"Are you going to sit there and guess again, or would you like to double down on failure with your next attempt?" Vaughn sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I’m not guessing, Professor. I—"

"Can’t manage a basic reaction?" Vaughn interrupts with his icy voice. "I’m beginning to wonder how you even made it into this program."

"I’m perfectly capable. The solution is just—"

"Wrong. Yes, we’ve established that." Vaughn’s lips curl into a patronizing sneer. "Maybe chemistry isn’t the field for you if this is the best you can manage." That got everyone’s attention—it would be an interesting sight to see you fail. It so rarely happens. Sure, you’ve been doubted before but have always proven yourself. Today would be no different.

You take a deep breath and count to yourself, One. Two. Three. Four. Five. 

As you block out Vaughn’s piercing gaze and the weight of the other students’ eyes, you carefully remeasure the chemical, adjusting the proportions this time, methodically double-checking your work. You add the reagent once more, slowly, and watch as the solution begins to shift. 

A moment passes. The reaction stabilizes and the solution turns a clear, pale blue. 

"Finally," Vaughn mutters. You don’t even have to look at him to know he rolled his eyes. He turns to walk away but pauses. "Barely acceptable. Next time, you won’t be given the luxury of so many failures."

-

Bursting through the door upon dismissal, you can’t get to the restroom fast enough, barely making it to a stall before tears stream down your cheeks. 

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five,” you whisper to yourself. 

Sometimes, chemical reactions need to be dealt with instantly, but that’s an overwhelming amount of pressure. You give yourself five seconds before you absolutely have to deal with it. Same thing here. Cry. Count to five. Wipe your tears and move on.

But it’s difficult to move on this time. You’ve counted to five a few too many times today. But the only person you want to talk about it with is—

Professor Choi,  Are you available to meet me in Lab 270 tomorrow afternoon? I’ve been struggling with some reactions and could use some help. I’ll be there from 2:00—4:00.  If not, no worries! 

Sniffling, you hit send on your email app, shove your phone in your bag and head home. 

The next day drags on and on. Did he even get your message? Expecting an empty lab, you’re surprised to find Professor Choi waiting for you behind a laptop wearing a cute tweed jacket with suede elbow patches. His eyebrows are furrowed as his focused eyes study the computer, but they brighten at the sight of you. 

Initially surprised by your confusion, he squeezes his eyes shut and says, “I didn’t respond to your email, did I?” He’s already got the lab station set up. How long has he been waiting on you? “So, how’s Professor Vaughn’s class?” Did someone tell him about yesterday? God, you hope not. 

“Fine,” you deadpan. Shaking your head, you say, “I’m sorry…I’m just kinda stressed.” 

“I can go if you need some time by—”

“No,” you say, softening your tone. “I’d really appreciate your help.”

And he’s more than willing, letting you ask whatever you want, never interrupting or talking over you like most of the men in the program. He gives you space to explore ideas and theories, listening closely instead of answering everything for you.

And he’s so damn sexy when he’s the one doing the ranting. The way he talks with his hands, ones that are so big with fingers so long you wish he would wrap around your—

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?” He asks.

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? What a fucking nightmare. “Uh, sorry, just…talking to myself. Too many thoughts racing around the ole dome.”

A slight pout forms on his lips as he continues his rant. Now, the only thing you can think of are his lips wrapped around your—

“Ah!” Your hand slips toward the Bunsen burner and, great, now you’ve got a nice burn on your thumb. 

“Oh gosh, are you okay?” He stands quickly. “Let me see.” His fingers graze your palm, igniting a fiercer burn than the actual flame just did. “Run it under cold water, okay?”

In the meantime, he straightens up your station before meeting you at the sink. “Is something wrong?” His words make you jump. “You seem distracted.” 

That’s all it takes. The floodgates open. You rant about the sexist piece of shit Professor Vaughn and his power moves to intimidate you when he knows you’re the best student in the program. About how embarrassed you were in lab yesterday. Last semester when you raised your hand to correct an equation on the board and he gave you a firm talking to about respect after class. 

He watches you carefully, handing over a towel for your hands as you take a steadying breath, fighting back tears.

“Did I ever tell you why I started studying chemistry?” he asks. You sniffle, shaking your head. “My grandfather. He was a baker.” His voice softens, and you look up to find his eyes full of kindness. “Every Saturday, he’d make me work in his bakery. I didn’t mind—it felt like magic, you know? But really, it’s science. It’s all precision, measurements, timing.” 

A smile tugs at his lips. “Once, I tried baking a cake for my mom’s birthday, followed his recipe exactly. Measured the flour, the sugar, the cocoa. When I pulled it out of the oven, it was hard. Flat. I was sure he’d be disappointed, calling it a waste of time and ingredients. I was terrified. But he looked at it, smiled, and told me to try again the next day. When I asked why it didn’t work, he said I needed to ‘feel my way through it.’”

You sit there, the sting from your burn now fading, but your heart’s still aching, wanting something from him—a hug, a kiss, even just a pat on the shoulder.

“If I’d gotten it right the first time, I’d never know what overmixed batter looks like. Or that I like more cocoa than he did. Or that you should coat berries in flour.” His smile creeps up to his eyes. “Seeing how failure could make you better—it made me curious. I wanted to understand why some things worked and others didn’t, why I needed to feel my way through it, to get into the details.” He makes eye contact with you again. “That’s why I went into chemistry. Baking taught me the magic is in the little things—if you’re willing to screw up and keep going.”

Nodding, you smile back. His words hang in the air for a moment, like they’re meant to settle, but something’s missing. 

“All I’m saying is, its okay to fuck things up, okay?” he says, his candidness drawing a chuckle from you. “How else would you learn?”

-

The world’s drained of color—only hazy shades of grey and beige are left. Your palms press against a cold marble countertop with the faint sound of running water echoing in the distance. The reflection of the mirror looks like you, but not quite. The woman in the mirror has her lips painted a dark, sultry brown, a shade you’d never choose. And the outfit is far too dressy for a lecture. Shadows fall where there shouldn’t be any. 

The hallways are unfamiliar, yet you know it's the same building you visit almost every day. It's blurry, like you’re walking through a memory that isn’t yours. 

You look down at the saddle shoes on your feet clicking against the tile floor, unnervingly filling the emptiness. It feels like someone else is controlling your body but you don’t question it. You can’t. Your hand raises, knuckles brushing a wooden door before it creaks open on its own. 

On the other side of the door, Professor Choi faces a green chalkboard. Has that always been in his office? Hurriedly scribbling down equations, he glances between the board and the notebook in his hand. When he looks over his shoulder at you, his eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Come in,” he says gently, setting his notebook aside. His voice wraps around you, making the room feel smaller, closer. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your spine tingles. “I know,” you reply, but the words sound hollow, like you’re speaking from somewhere else. 

“Here,” he suggests, holding a piece of chalk out to you. The way he gestures toward the board is magnetic. As you take it from his hand, your fingers brush his. “What do you think of this?” An unfinished equation waits to be solved. His presence looms behind you, close but not quite touching as you reach up to solve it. Your heart pounds, every stroke of the chalk on the board heavier than it should.

“Impressive,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough around the edges. You turn to face him and he’s closer than expected, his warmth radiating against your skin. The air is thick with something unspoken. You step closer, tentative at first, then quicker, more certain. Your lips almost brush his, but he pulls back, his breath catching.

He looks down, your name a whisper on his lips, soft and pained. “I—” His eyes flicker up to meet yours, then fall back down like the weight of your gaze is too much.

“What?” You ask, your voice barely more than a breath. Your eyes dart between his, lingering on his tempting mouth. He leans in again with desire in his eyes. He wants to kiss you. You can feel it. And for a moment you think he might.

But he pulls away, his forehead nearly resting against yours. “I don’t think we should be doing this,” he says, his voice strained, as if saying the words is physically painful for him.

“Why not?” The question slips from your lips before you can stop it, frustration and longing lacing your tone.

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to touch you. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to, or—”

“Why would I feel like that?” you interrupt, your voice impatient. Your heart races, pounding in your ears, drowning out reason.

“I’m your professor,” he breathes out like it’s a curse. His words only fan the flames of the tension building between you. There’s nothing wrong with that, you think to yourself. It’s not like you’re fresh out of high school—you’re a grad student, close to starting the same PhD he earned barely three years ago. He’s no more than five years older.

“I don’t care,” you insist, stepping even closer, your lips a breath away from his. “I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes darken, his resolve faltering as his gaze drops to your lips. “It’s a mistake,” he whispers, but his voice trembles with indecision, trying to convince himself more than you.

“Make the mistake,” you urge, your voice soft but sure. Your hand reaches for his tie, tugging as light as you can just to bring him that much closer. “You said it yourself, it’s okay to fuck things up.”

There’s a beat of silence, so thick it feels as though the room itself is holding its breath, waiting. And in that moment, the space between you seems to collapse, the weight of everything unsaid pulling you closer. 

The millisecond before your lips touch, you breathe awake. 

You bolt straight up, feeling around your soft bed sheets, breathless as your heart pounds from the vividness of it all. For a moment, you linger in the feeling, brushing your fingers over your lips, feeling the warmth of the almost kiss. But reality sinks in and your stomach drops.

Reaching for your phone, you check the time. Great, it’s almost time for his class. But there’s no hazy world to hide in. Skipping class might be an option but an exam reminder drags you out of bed. 

- 

Trudging across campus, your stomach sinks lower with each step. How can you look him in the eye? Dropping your bag to the floor with a thud, you hang your head low. Let’s just get through this exam and get outta here. 

“How’s your hand?” Professor Choi’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding his hands up. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.” Looking at you like you’re the cutest puppy he’s ever seen, you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you hold out your hand. The second his fingertips touch yours, you flinch and jerk it back. 

“Um—” you start. “Better, thanks.” Turning away from him, you distract yourself with a random notebook from your bag. 

“...You okay? You shouldn’t be nervous about the exam.” When you look up, you’re met with eyes that appear…hurt? 

“No, it’s not that.” That’s not a good answer. “Just…” What would you even say? I had an incredibly vivid—and delicious—dream about you last night and now I need to know how your lips feel in real life? “Cramps.”

“Ah.” He nods and leaves you alone, awkwardly walking to the front of the class to make some announcements and general good wishes before the exam. With your fist pressed to your chin, you refuse to look up, hanging your head low even as he slides you your copy. 

There’s a bright green post-it stuck to it with a note, It’s okay to fuck it up! Your heart races as your eyes dart around searching for him. When you find him, he gives you a soft smile. You return the smile but rush to unstick it before anyone sees, storing it in your notebook for safe keeping. 

-

As you return to your apartment, the post-it stares back at you like you’re the guiltiest son-of-a-bitch in the world. It’s practically calling you a whore. And you can hardly take it anymore. You can’t bring yourself to face him for class a few days later—although skipping feels like a cardinal sin. Soon enough, though, your email dings. 

From: Choi Soobin, PhD I noticed you were absent from class today. I hope everything’s okay. The lecture notes are attached for your reference. Feel free to stop by my office hours with any questions. Professor Choi

Did your heart just flutter? Why are you walking toward his office? When you knock on the door, he stands—more like stumbles—to greet you, “Hi!” 

“Hi, Professor Choi…” You linger in the doorway, clutching your notebook tight to your chest. “Sorry I missed class—”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah—”

“You’re not overwhelmed with coursework, are you?” His eyes search yours, and there’s a softness in his voice that makes it hard to look away.

“No, no, I’m alright. I just…had a migraine this morning,” you say, shrugging slightly. “It’s gone now, though.”

He nods, easing into a warm smile. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” His gaze doesn’t waver and the intensity makes your pulse quicken. “So, I’m guessing you’re here to go over questions from the lecture?”

“Actually, it’s Professor Vaughn’s class I’m struggling with. His lecture today was…brutal.”

“I’m shocked,” he says sarcastically. “The man’s got a gift for making simple concepts sound like Greek.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “I thought it was me, but he seems to take pride in making everything harder than it needs to be.”

“Trust me, it’s not you,” he says, a glint of warmth in his eyes. “He’s terrible. And annoying. And boring. And I’d tell him that.”

You raise a brow, skeptical. “You wouldn’t.”

“Well…” He breaks into a grin. “Maybe after I reach tenure. Though he may be retired by then.”

“Or dead,” you say matter-of-factly. He looks at you awkwardly then you both laugh, genuinely. There’s an ease to it.

He gestures to your notebook. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

-

“I can’t believe I’m laughing at that,” you say, a giggle escaping your lips. 

“You always laugh at my bad jokes,” he replies, staring at your face a little too longingly. If you were anyone else, he might find some excuse to touch you. Maybe brush a piece of lint off your shoulder, lightly touch your arm while he laughed at something you said, or something as casual as a fist bump. 

If he were any other guy, you’d be much more obvious, making it crystal clear you want him to kiss you right now. But you can’t. You don’t even know how he thinks about you. You’re probably just another student to him. 

“Well, those are all my questions,” you say, awkwardly packing your bag. 

“Yeah, you can, uh…head out…” he trails off as you start to rise from your seat. 

You’re searching for something to say, something to let you stay just a little longer. But nothing comes. He watches you walk toward the door, the silence hanging in the space between you. 

“Pens!” His voice suddenly burst out, loud enough to make you stop mid-step. “They, uh—I went to a conference last week and they gave me a ton,” he says, scrambling to gather a handful from his desk. 

You take them, your fingers brushing against his in a way that feels far too intimate. His eyes lock with yours, the touch sending a ripple of tension through you. “But you’re, uh…picky about your pens, aren’t you?” He asks, his voice softer now, almost unsure.

Laughing quietly, you say, “Yeah, but…that’s okay.” Your words are heavy with subtext you can’t bring yourself to say out loud. “Well, goodbye.” You offer him a smile, stepping back toward the door. “Thanks again.” 

“Yeah. Goodbye,” he says, but his feet shuffle forward as if he’s moving without thinking. Awkwardly reaching for a handshake, he realizes your hands are occupied. Instead, he reaches around you for the door handle, but he gets a tad too close and your brain scrambles. 

Before you can hold yourself back, you drop the pens, letting them clatter to the floor as your arms wrap around his neck. Your lips meet his in a rush, warm and soft. While your eyes close to savor the feeling, his widen in shock before he relaxes into your touch and wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer. 

It’s everything you’ve been holding back—unspoken feelings unraveling in a heartbeat. His lips move against yours with a hunger that surprises you, the world melting away as you lose yourself in the moment. You feel weightless, your pulse racing as his hands grip your waist a little tighter, as though he’s afraid to let you go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and dazed, he presses his forehead to yours, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re never gonna use those pens, are you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, like he’s trying to anchor himself in humor, trying to bring himself back down to earth.

You laugh, shaking your head. “No,” you admit, your heart still pounding. “They’re garbage.”

Before you can think, you kiss him again and this time, he doesn’t hesitate. His mouth crashes into yours with an urgency, like he’s wanted to kiss you since the second he laid eyes on you. His lips are soft, but his kiss is demanding, making up for all the lost moments between you. For those few minutes, nothing else matters—you bask in one of the greatest kisses either of you have ever had. But not for long.

Reality catches up too quickly. You pull away suddenly, breathless and wide-eyed. “Oh my god—” you gasp, backing up, your fingers graze your lips trying to make sense of what just happened. “I’m so sorry—”

“No,” he interrupts quickly, shaking his head. “Don’t be. I—” He’s stumbling through his words, just as lost as you are but neither of you regret it. “I wanted—”

“That was…” You can’t even finish your sentence. It was everything. Too much, too fast, too real. But you can’t take it back.

“I—” He’s trying to find the right words, to reassure you, to tell you he felt it too, that he wanted it just as badly. But he’s as flustered as you are, his voice rough and unsure.

“I’ll just…go throw myself off a bridge now,” you mumble. You can’t even look at him as you make a beeline for the door, your face burning with embarrassment. You think you hear him say something, but the blood rushing in your ears drowns it out.

You leave the room quickly, your heart about to burst through your chest, trying to process what just happened. The kiss lingers on your lips, a mix of exhilaration and terror swirling inside you. It’s too much to handle.

But, hey, there’s one bit of good news. At least he kissed you back. 

-

What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Drop his class? It’s too late in the semester for that. And you need those credits. Wait until the end of the semester to talk to him again? Can you go that long without his lips on yours again? 

Back at your apartment, you rummage through your books to find the university’s code of conduct, hurriedly searching for anything related to “appropriate relationships,” “faculty-student relationships,” “consensual,” blah blah blah, whatever the university has coded sleeping with a professor.

The University strongly urges those individuals in positions of authority not to engage in conduct of an amorous or sexual nature with a person they are, or are likely in the future to be, in a position of evaluating.

Your eyes read over the words, “strongly urges” once more. Not totally against the rules, you suppose. Even if you did wait until the semester was over, you’d need to report it. You wish you could talk with him about it, but bringing this up is tricky. Is it moving too fast? You can’t text him, you don’t have his number. And using your student email to send a message to his faculty email that says, “Oh, by the way, I checked the rules and we’re in the clear to have sex!” is a terrible idea. 

Maybe one kiss in his office doesn’t mean anything. Oh, but it was everything. 

-

After much deliberation, you convince yourself to attend his class a few days later. You’ve brought the code of conduct along, as well as a bright pink post-it sticking out of the book. To avoid any form of small talk with him, you wait outside right until the start of class. 

Along the way to your desk, you silently plop the code of conduct on his desk and scurry away. When you work up the courage to look up at him, he’s flipped to the marked page. Highlighted on the page is the paragraph that “strongly urges” people in positions of authority not to sleep with students. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed. The message couldn’t be clearer, he thought. You’re practically telling him to leave you alone. But when he finally reads the post-it, his heart flutters. Written in your handwriting, it says, It’s okay to fuck it up! complete with a smiley face. 

As much as he tries to fight it, he glances up at you to catch your gaze. And just as the slightest smile appears on his face, a big one appears on yours. You hide it with your palm as you start at the blank page of your notebook. Blinking, he shakes his head and begins his lecture. But how can you concentrate now? 

You’ve gotta give it to him, he delivers his lecture perfectly. If it were you, you’d barely be able to think. Hell, you barely can throughout the whole thing. 

Now that you’ve gotten that smile of permission, you finally let yourself daydream. 

Has his ass always been that cute? Has he always been that tall? Has his voice always been that deep and sexy? 

You don’t even know what he’s talking about, but that’s okay, you can always stop by his office hours. “What do you think?” He asks. 

Oh shit, he’s looking at you for an answer. He can always rely on you to keep class moving along when everybody else is dead silent. You shake out of your thoughts, panic-reading the board to come up with something. It's similar to your discussion you had the last time you went to his office hours. The time that ended in that gorgeous kiss. Throwing together an answer, his eyes brighten as he cheers, “Exactly!” 

Oh my god. He’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You could just gobble him up. 

-

“So, I suppose we should talk about…” Professor Choi trails off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like it’s obvious what he’s getting at. And it is. But you stay quiet. You wanna hear him admit it. You raise an eyebrow, playing coy.

You decided to press your luck by visiting his office outside scheduled office hours—right after class—to simply test the waters and gauge his reaction to the code of conduct and that kiss…that incredible kiss. 

“You know…” He gestures vaguely between the two of you, sighing like okay, fine, I guess I’ll say it. “I like you and you like me, right?” His voice dips just slightly, enough for you to notice the hesitation. “Unless I’m totally misreading—”

“No! You’re not…misreading anything,” you’re quick to say, along with a chuckle. Phew—he was worried there for a second. So goddamn cute. “What do you wanna talk about?”

He exhales a small laugh, but his smile is strained, cautious. “I want to make sure you don’t feel…weird about this.” Hand sliding nervously along the edge of his desk, he traces the wood grain before his eyes flick up to meet yours. Truth be told, he’d never do something like this with a student. Never want to make anyone feel pressured. But he never thought he’d feel like this. Giddy and blushy like you’re his first crush. 

“Why would I feel weird?” You tilt your head, genuinely curious. You’ve thought about this—about him—far too much for any of it to feel weird.

“I’m just terrified you feel like you need to do something about this.” You’re taken aback, confusion visibly etched across your face. “You know, because I’m your professor or because I’m in the department and I know your plans for a PhD here.” His voice softens, vulnerability creeping in. “I don’t want it to feel like I’m pushing you into anything.”

“I don’t,” you say gently. “It’s not like that.”

He nods, though the tightness in his jaw doesn’t disappear. “Because if you ever even remotely feel like I’m pressuring you, I want you to tell me. Immediately. I mean it.”

“No,” You shake your head, almost too fast. “I mean, it doesn’t feel like that. Not at all. I’ve thought about this…about us, a lot.” Your voice falters for a moment as his eyes widen, softening in a way that makes your stomach flutter. You weren’t expecting him to look at you like that—so open, so relieved.

His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to reach out to you. “Yeah?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. “But I think we should wait until the semester’s over. Before we…you know…do anything.”

He smiles gently and leans back, visibly more at ease. “I think so too.” 

But you didn’t realize how fucking difficult it would be to get through the last six weeks of the semester. Every class you sit there, thighs pressed together thinking about the dirtiest things you want him to do to you. Every office hour you went to, you could practically swim through the thickness of the tension between you two. 

It didn’t help how cute he was being. Post-its he’d leave on every exam of yours—You’re gonna do great! You’ve got this. Trust your instincts.—encouragement no other student got. You kept every one of them in your bedside table drawer. 

When finals week finally arrives, it wasn’t just about exams; it was about counting the hours until you could finally be with him. Or at least talk to him like he wasn’t your professor. As he handed over your final exam, the familiar green post-it note was stuck to it: Happy Finals Week! 

Your internal scream was so loud, you’re worried your classmates heard it. You’d pre-written a post-it to stick to it once you returned the exam. It had your phone number, a smiley face, and the words: Since you’re not my professor anymore. 

-

After a full day of checking your phone every twenty seconds, you started to give up. Was he just playing you? Did someone else see the note? Did he change his mind? But finally, you receive a text.

hi! this is soobin (professor choi lol). i was wondering if you wanted to get dinner or something?

soobin!! omg yes i would love to get dinner with you :) how’s tomorrow? 

how about right now? if you want, of course! no pressure we can totally wait until tomorrow it’s up to you

You squealed into your pillow, kicking and giggling like an idiot. Should you be flirty back? 

i can be ready in 30 min. 364 oakridge drive. it’s an apartment building- i’ll meet you downstairs. 

be there in 45 :) 

-

Like a perfect gentleman, Soobin meets you at the passenger door, swinging it open with a charming smile before gently closing it behind you. The slow walk up to his front door makes your stomach stir. He has to fumble through his keys to unlock it. 

Once inside, he slips his shoes off quietly, revealing cozy patterned socks that make you smile. Meticulously, he hangs his jacket on a coat tree and places his keys in a speckled clay catch-all that rests on a table next to a houseplant. As he walks toward the kitchen, he glances over his shoulder, his voice low and inviting. “Do you want a drink or something?” The warmth in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re drawn to this softer side of him. In class, his tone is bright and dorky. In his office, it’s casual and laid-back. At dinner, it was sweet and charming. But now? Now it’s sultry, almost sexy. Like he can’t wait to be with you but would never, ever pressure you. 

“Hot tea?” You suggest with a steady voice, despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Sounds good,” he agrees, switching on his tea kettle. In the meantime, you take a look around his much neater than expected apartment. 

The mid-century modern furniture is impeccably arranged—a sleek sofa, a low coffee table, and a stylish armchair with an even more stylish decorative pillow. Perfectly nurtured plants thrive around the room, adding a green vibrancy to the minimalist backdrop, breathing life into the space. A gallery wall above his expensive-looking couch features travel photos, beautiful art, and a few subtly science-inspired pieces. In the corner across the couch is a sleek electric fireplace underneath a huge TV. 

“Who’s this?” you ask, your heart swelling as a fluffy gray cat glares at you through one half-open eye. Her perfectly groomed fur and regal posture make her look like she owns the place. Just then, Soobin steps into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of tea, filling the air with a warm spice. 

“That’s Molly…short for Molecule,” he says. “Don’t worry, she’s sweet.” 

Extending your hand toward the cat, he starts to sniff you. “Hi, M—wait,” you pause, looking up at Soobin with a teasing smile. “Molly, short for Molecule?” He nods, his grin widening. “You’re adorable,” you tell him. Has anyone ever blushed quite like he did just now?

He stares down at his feet, clearly caught off guard. “You’re,” he starts. “Well, you’re cute too.” His sincerity makes your smile grow even stronger.

“Can I sit?” you ask, nodding toward the couch.

“Oh,” his smile falters for a moment. “Yes, of course. Make yourself at home.” You plop down on his couch, settling into the surprisingly soft cushions. Molly clearly doesn’t think the couch is big enough for the two of you, so she strides over to probably the nicest cat tree you’ve ever seen.

You sip your hot tea and your body finally relaxes. As you reach to sit it on the coffee table, he politely asks, “I don’t mean to be a square, but can you use a coaster?” 

“Of course,” you say, complying with the request. “So, tell me,” you begin, clearing your throat. “How’d I do on my final?” Humming, he stands to rummage through his messenger bag slumped over a dining chair. You gasp, “A ninety-seven?” Thumbing through the pages, you find a single red X on possibly the easiest question you’ve had on an exam since high school: What is the atomic number of oxygen? “Are you kidding me?” 

Any attempt to mask your embarrassment is impossible. It only deepens when you look up and catch him already watching you—lips pressed tight, failing miserably to hide a smug, amused smile.  

“I, uh…” You scratch the back of your neck. “I got that one wrong on purpose. You know, so as to not raise any suspicion.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, did you now?” You nod. “That was on the exam just so Toby wouldn’t get a zero.” You nod begrudgingly. “And you put 10! That’s not even close. That’s—”

“Neon,” you grumble. “Yeah I know…” you say, avoiding his eyes as he laughs playfully. 

“Neon’s a noble gas and oxygen is a—”

“Reactive nonmetal,” you cut him off. “I know, okay?” You shove his shoulder playfully, but your grin betrays you. “It was a high-pressure environment. Sitting in an exam room with your professor watching you."

"I barely looked up from my laptop,” he reminds you. 

"Your presence is distracting enough," you shoot back, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Ah, so my intellectual aura threw you off?”

“I dunno…is that what you think, professor?” You ask cheekily. “Maybe it was something else.” You’ve tossed the exam onto the coffee table, moving closer. 

“Like what?” 

“Just…you. You’re distracting.” You smirk, the words slipping out almost involuntarily, like they’ve been waiting on the tip of your tongue. 

Intrigued, he tilts his head and asks, “What about me?” There’s something magnetic in the way he looks at you—like he knows the answer but wants to hear you say it, to savor the way it sounds coming from your lips. 

You hum, tracing the lines of his body with your eyes, mapping out uncharted territory before exploring it. You don’t want to move too fast, but every fiber of your being screams for more. He’s not lighting a fire inside you—he’s setting the whole forest ablaze. Sure, your imagination has been running rampant since he returned your feelings six weeks ago, but now that you’re here, he scrambles every thought.

“Your eyes…” you say while yours flick over his face, taking in every curve, every freckle, every lash. “They’re so pretty.” 

A smile—small but real—tugs at the corners of his lips. The kind that’s private, meant just for you. His eyes darken as he leans in, the space between you shrinking. You glance down, noticing the way his long fingers curl around the mug handle. There’s something almost hesitant in the way he holds it. You take it from him gently, setting it atop a coaster as quietly as you can.

“Your hands…” you whisper, fingers barely brushing his knuckles, tension coiled under his skin. They’re hands that have worked, experimented, written things down—hands you want on you. Guiding one to your thigh, the squeeze he returns sends a shudder through you. 

Everything between you is electric. Your breaths come faster now, more desperate. Every inch you move toward him is a test, a slow-motion collapse of restraint.

“Your legs…” A soft breathless chuckle escapes as you glance down. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but you don’t give him the chance. Boldness surges through you like a current and you hike one leg over both of his, straddling him. The shift is seismic. His hands move to your hips, gripping you, afraid to let go. The heat of his touch spreads through you, anchoring you in place, though it feels like everything around you is spinning.

“And your lips…” you murmur, leaning closer, your breath mingling with his. “Oh my god, those fucking lips.” You can’t stop staring at them, just a breath away now, soft and wet. Your pulse races. 

You cup his face, lifting his chin until his eyes meet yours again. His pupils are blown wide, the desire in them unmistakable. Your thumb brushes his bottom lip, and the moment stretches, suspended. You lean in just enough to feel his breath on your lips. 

“Kiss me,” you whisper.

And he does.

It isn’t tentative—it’s dam-breaking. Like he’s been starving for it, holding back for years. His lips are soft but urgent as his hands tighten around your hips to pull you closer. You taste jasmine tea on his lips, a subtle sweetness mingling with the spice of his cologne—clove, pepper, something dark and addictive. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper against his lips. “I can’t believe I had to wait so long to kiss you again.” You kiss him again and he moans sweetly into your mouth. Just as the kiss deepens, he retreats, his breath ragged. “You okay?” 

Nervously nodding, he says, “Yeah,” but his eyes flicker away. He tries to kiss you again, but you place your hand on his chest, gently stopping him.

“Wait,” you say, eyes searching his face. “What’s going on? Am I being too—”

“No,” he says, almost a little too urgently. “It’s not that. It’s just…” His hands fall to the couch. Bracing to tell the truth, he squeezes his eyes shut before adding, “I need to tell you something.” You sit back on your heels, still in his lap but giving him room to speak. 

“What is it?” You ask softly. 

“There’s this thing… I haven’t—uh…” He stumbles over the words, his fingers twitching at his sides.

“Soobin?” you ask, your voice gentle but steady. That’s the first time you’ve called him by his first name. It feels utterly…vulnerable. “Are you a virgin?” The question is delicate. Shutting his eyes again, he takes a deep breath. 

“No,” he says. “Well, not exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. What is that even supposed to mean? “It’s just…it’s been a while. And before then, I hadn’t had a lot of sex. And I haven’t had any…recently.” 

“How long?” you encourage, your eyes softening.

“A year.” 

You hum softly in acknowledgement, watching his confidence falter. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward, trailing slow, deliberate kisses along his neck. He trembles under your touch, a soft gasp escaping his lips, your hands moving all over his body, claiming him.

“Oh, Professor Choi,” you whisper, your voice dripping with heat and promise. “We’re gonna have so much fun.”

-

As your breath slows, you sit up and let your hand linger over his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. “Tell me,” you start. “What do you like?” 

“Um,” he swallows, trying to force the lump down his throat. He’s so hesitant but he finally says, “Touching.” 

“You touching my body or me touching yours?” 

He exhales shakily. “The first,” he says, confirming with a squeeze to your hips. 

You hum against his ear. What are you gonna do with him? Tease him forever? Let him have his way with you? You ask, “Why don’t you take my shirt off for me?” 

Gracing his hands over your arms, he grounds himself again before asking, “You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” You nod, guiding his hands to the top button of your blouse, letting him slip it through the buttonhole. One by one, he exposes more of your skin, his heart thumping harder with each passing second. Pushing the silky fabric past your shoulders until your top half is only covered by a bubblegum pink mesh bra, leaving almost nothing to the imagination—except for the red embroidered hearts over your nipples.

After easing the shirt out from your trousers, you reach back to pull at the sleeves, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He slips his finger under one of your bra straps, pulling it to the side, but you stop him. “Wait. It’s your turn.” 

Tugging on his tie, you slip it through the collar and unbutton his dress shirt. Seeing his body bare in front of you for the first time, you’re practically drooling. You indulge in running your hands all over his body, lean with subtle muscles, from his chest to the bottom of his abs. 

“How come you got to touch me if I didn’t get to touch you?” He asks innocently. 

“You’re right,” you chuckle. “I’m sorry.” You smile and sit up to press your palms against his and let your fingers intertwine. Your heart melts and you fear you may throw up. “Did you want to take my bra off first?” He nods. Fumbling fingers reach behind you to snap it off, letting it fall to the couch. As he sees your bare tits, his eyes widen and he lets out the cutest little Oh. 

He’s hesitant to do anything. You have to guide his hands to massage your tits—and they’re the perfect size for you. 

“You’re so…soft,” he says, looking up at your eyes, like he’s not sure if that was okay to say. 

“You like them?” He nods eagerly. Experimentally swiping a thumb across a nipple, it hardens at his touch while you let out a sharp gasp. 

“You like that,” he says matter-of-factly. “Can I taste?” Nodding, you lean forward, welcoming his lips. His body finally relaxes as he moans against your skin. Circling the tip of his tongue around your nipple, he’s teasing you. And oh my god do you love it. 

One of your hands threads through his hair and you stuff the other down your pants, but he grabs your wrist softly. 

“That’s not fair,” he whispers and you concede, keeping your hands to yourself. With one hand, he stuffs your tit back in his mouth while the other plays with your other nipple. His hot, wet mouth on one nipple and his teasing fingers playing with the other sends waves of pleasure through you that may send you over the edge.

If you don’t do something to ease your need, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to take this. You resort to grinding against his hard cock, making his hips buck. 

Lifting your legs off his, you swing around to sit next to him, palming his cock over his trousers. Desperately clawing at the waistband, you unbutton and unzip his pants, encouraging him to kick them off. He stands to slip them off and as you reach for the band of his boxers, he stops you. 

“Your turn,” he whispers. And you comply. But not without a show. Standing slowly, you push him to the couch and turn your back to him. As you push your pants down, your ass looks delicious in your thong that matches your bra—mesh bubblegum pink with red trim. When you turn back, he’s fisting himself over his underwear. 

“Nuh-uh, that’s not fair,” you say. Returning next to him on the couch, you feel him over his boxers and your mouth waters. Goddamn you can’t wait for him to be inside you. “Do you have any lube?” He nods and shortly returns with a barely used tube. 

While he stays standing, you sit up on the couch, running your hands across his muscular thighs and perfect pelvis. Looking up at him, his eyes are bright, darting all over your body like he’s afraid to miss something. He fiddles with his waistband, flipping the elastic over softly. A small smile flicks across your lips before you tug his boxers down his legs, leaving trails of kisses along the way.

Encouraging him to sit down, you look down at his cock, long and hard and dripping with precum. Finally, you drag your fingertips up and down his cock before squeezing him. He moans like you’ve never heard a man moan before. Laying your head on his shoulder, you sprinkle kisses all over his skin, finding a spot behind his ear that makes him squirm. 

He hisses and—almost involuntarily—wraps one of his hands around yours to use his long fingers to guide your hand up and down. There’s something magical about someone with so little experience telling—no, showing—you what to do with his body. It’s electrifying. He hasn’t been touched in so long that he’s desperate to get off and can’t waste time with words. But no words need to be shared. His movements tell you what speed he likes. 

Snaking his other arm around you, he stuffs his fingers in your hair and clenches his fist, subconsciously tugging the strands. His lips are right against your ear, breathing rapidly and heavily and he can hardly take it anymore. You watch his chest rise and fall as he clenches your hair, moaning getting quicker, he squeaks and whines. 

Hurriedly pressing his lips to your temple, you can’t take your eyes off his cock as he shoots short spurts of cum all over his stomach. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath before he gives you a sweet smile. 

You don’t let up with kisses all over his body. Sprinkling kisses here and there while he cleans himself up with a hand towel he’d brought with him when he got the lube from his bedroom. Once he’s clean, he slouches down the couch. 

“Will you sit on my face?” His eyes are ever so sweet and innocent, like he’s finally able to test all his fantasies. “Please…” You hum like you’re only considering it, but we all know you’ll say yes. “Please, mommy?” Everything halts. 

“Mommy?” 

“F-fuck—” he sits up, ears turning redder than you’ve ever seen them—anyone’s ears for that matter. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first—”

“No, no…” you say gently, cupping his jaw to make him look at you. You can’t help yourself—you press your lips to his again and you lose yourself in his intoxicating kiss. But you break it and say, “Keep calling me that.” 

“M-mommy?” You hum. Before you give him what he asked for, you shove your tit in front of his lips. He doesn’t need to be told what to do. His plush lips wrap around your hard nipple while he thumbs the other. It feels like fucking heaven.

“That’s my good boy.” He lets out the most pathetic whimper you’ve ever heard in your goddamn life. His eyebrows furrow, looking up at you through his lashes. “Are you my good boy?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. “Yes, mommy. Of course.” 

“Soobin,” you breathe in disbelief, dropping your head back. “You’re so sexy, I swear to god.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he shakes his head. “That’s you.” He smiles. “Will you please sit on my face now?” He slouches down again without waiting for an answer. “Please.” You hike your leg up to rest your foot against the back of the couch, gently hovering over him. But he wraps his hands around your hips to yank you down. As he flicks his tongue over your clit, you might be embarrassed by the volume of your moan, but there’d be no reason to. 

“I thought you said you didn’t do this a lot?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “This was always what I was best at.” You chuckle. “Wait, no—” he shakes his head. “I’m good at the other stuff too. I hope.” Returning his tongue to your clit, you gasp and fall forward, bracing yourself against the back of the couch. He seizes the opportunity to get fully entranced in your taste. 

There's an impossible contrast—your body melts, muscles soft and pliant as you surrender to the pleasure but, at the same time, goosebumps prickle along your skin, sharp and electric. Warmth and vulnerability layered with a thrill that leaves you shivering, somehow both at ease and on edge.

But then he snakes his hand behind your ass to tease your asshole with his pinky. And it's overwhelming. Your knees are so weak you can hardly hold yourself up. The way his hands feel on your body, touching you in all the right places, flicking his tongue perfectly, moaning so temptingly along with the built up tension—it is so much. So. Fucking. Much. 

It builds in your stomach—teetering on the edge and god you only hope he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. But you can’t form words to tell him that. But he knows. 

And then it happens. 

You feel like you’re floating—or falling may be more accurate—as your orgasm washes over you, thighs quite literally quivering around his face as you come undone on top of him. For him. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you roll and plop to the couch and he sloppily replaces his tongue with his fingers. You make a mental note to show him exactly where your clit is later. How is it that he found it so easily with his tongue but missed it with his hand? You guess he was right—oral is what he’s best at. Your chest heaves with your deep breaths as you come down from your high, watching him smirk at you. 

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. There’s a beat of silence. “What the fuck?”

“What?” He chuckles. 

“I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“I told you I’m good at it.” 

“Where’s your bedroom? This couch is too small for what we’re about to do.” 

Once he shuts his bedroom door to keep Molly out, he pulls you by your waist to press his bare body to yours and kisses you again so romantically it takes your breath away. 

“Wow,” he whispers against your lips. “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Oh my god, shut up.” You go straight back in for more kisses. But you break it— “But not literally, though. Please keep saying stuff like that.” You giggle together, slowly falling toward the bed until you’re gently laid on your back and he’s over top of you. 

“Can I, like, kiss all over your body?”

“Of course,” you say. “You don’t need to ask.”

And then he does exactly what he wants. Starting at your lips, he moves to the corner of your mouth, trailing behind your ear and down your neck. The way his breath tickles your neck sends shivers down your spine and you need more, more, more. 

As you lay there, simply basking in the feeling of him taking his time exploring every inch of you with the softest lips you’ve ever felt, you can’t help but be giddy. He’s tentative in some areas and eager in others. After he kisses the sensitive skin under your breast, he carefully observes your reaction. When he delicately presses his lips to your pelvis, his eyes flutter up to yours nervously. 

“Soobin,” you say breathlessly. He hums against your tummy, shaky hands running up your thighs. “I need you please.”

“You need me?” You nod. “Where do you need me, mommy?” You groan, arching your back, not even knowing where to start. You need him everywhere. 

“Inside me,” you say. “Please, I’ve been thinking about it for so long.” 

“Have you?” He asks innocently, using his fingers to play with the folds of your pussy so casually, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “I should be the impatient one.” But you know why he’s taking it so slow. He’s nervous as hell right now. 

Aligning his cock with your entrance, he slowly pushes himself inside you. And it's utterly exhilarating. For both of you. He falls forward, framing your face with his forearms, digging his nose into your neck. 

“Fuck…” He whispers shakily. Your nails drag down his back at his inexperienced hip rolls. “Oh my god, what are you doing to me?” Despite his inevitable desperation, his thrusts are controlled. He’s trying his very best at least. But his cock is so fucking perfect, you figure he’d make you feel good no matter what he does. Although, a little part of you thinks about how good he’ll be at fucking you in a few months after a little practice. Or lots of practice. 

He whispers swears, your name, and mommy…over and over again. Then he sits up, looking down at your body. Awkwardly fumbling as if he wants to say something, his mouth isn’t cooperating with his brain. He slowly comes to a stop, sliding out of you and barely touches your calf. 

“Can you, uh…would you mind, um—” 

"Do you wish to see me on my knees? Is that it, darling?"

“Yes, mommy…please, I’ve never—” 

“You’ve never had someone on their knees for you?” You ask and he silently shakes his head. “You’ve been such a good boy for me. Of course I’ll get on my knees for you.” You oblige to his request, turning yourself around and arching your back to give him a perfect view of your ass. He groans at the simple sight of your body. He swipes his hands over the swell of your ass, squeezing here and there. 

He clears his throat and asks, “What do I do?”

“Oh,” you chuckle lightly. “Just get on your knees and guide yourself in. Make sure it’s the right hole,” you say light-heartedly, trying to ease the tension a bit. 

But when he’s finally inside you again, it’s heaven. And he indulges in himself a bit—thrusting faster, harder, making your ass jiggle. The lewd sounds of his cock in your wetness and his hips smacking your skin makes it all the more erotic. But it doesn’t take long before—

“I like it better the other way, I think,” he says matter-of-factly. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay, babe,” you say, flipping back over and spreading your legs. And he slides right back inside you, letting his head fall back. But your tits bouncing are simply too tempting not to look at. They’re why he prefers it this way, so why not look at them as much as he can? He retreats a bit, opening his mouth like he wants to ask you something but he’s too shy. 

“What is it, baby?”

“I was just wondering if you…if you could—would you want to be on top?” His tone is genuinely sweet. “Like what position do you like?”

“Missionary’s my favorite too,” you say. “But I would, hm, I would really like to be on top for a bit.” Switching quickly, you align yourself over his cock and sink down on him so, so, so slowly, letting out a big sigh of relief. “Oh my god, Soobin. Are you fucking kidding me?” You don’t think you’ve ever felt so full before. The feeling stretches all the way to your toes. “I need to hump you like crazy for a bit,” you say with a chuckle. He nods like that’s perfectly fine with me, mommy. 

And you do exactly that—bounce on his cock as fast as your body lets you, relieving that built-up tension. Over the last few months, you wanted to jump his bones every time you were in the same room and that feeling never let up, like there was a tension thermometer in your body that was constantly stuck at boiling. 

But perhaps it was a bit more painful for him because an occasional rut up into you isn’t enough anymore. He holds your hips to keep you in place, fucking up into you as fast as he can. Head dropping back, he groans, your name leaving his lips. 

“Mommy?” His eyebrows furrow, looking utterly pathetic. “Let’s switch back. Please.” Hiking your leg over his hips, you land roughly on your back. Gently grabbing your hands, he pins them above your head, aligns his cock at your entrance, and slides inside you, rolling his hips so deliciously. As he kisses you, he swallows your moans. Trailing down your neck, he whispers, “Please tell me I’m making you feel good, Mommy.” 

Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you say, “Fuck, you’re making me feel so good.” 

Slowing his thrusts, he asks, “What else would you like me to do?” Smiling up at him, you rub his thighs. Waiting for an answer, he covers your collarbone in kisses, making his way back to your ear. After nibbling gently on your earlobe, he whispers, “Tell me how to make you feel even better.” Oof. Shivers. 

“Rub my clit,” you say. He sits up, fumbling with his fingers. “Use your thumb,” you giggle. “Wait.” Reaching for his hand, you let spit pool in your mouth before wrapping your lips around his thumb. Sucking on it, he looks at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then he follows your instructions, rubbing your clit with his thumb while he fucks you, listening intently to every instruction, every a little to the lefts, up a little bit mores, and he never gets impatient. 

Your back arches impossibly high and you say, “I’m close, babe. Don’t stop.” You rub your own nipple, but he moves your hand out of the way, wetting his thumb with his own spit before circling it for you. 

Everything has been building to this moment. Staring at him in every lecture, longing for his touch. That kiss in his office was just the start of your addiction. Attending his office hours didn’t help, but you couldn’t stay away. You needed to be closer to him. To feel heat radiating off his body. To smell his spicy cologne. To watch his fingers wrap around his pen and wish they were wrapped around something else. 

All of it was for this moment right here. Cumming around his cock for the first time. You can’t wait any longer. There’s a white hot burning in your belly that’s getting more furious by the second. His name leaves your mouth in a yelp before fireworks explode inside you. 

Your legs shake around his waist as he fucks you through it, not changing a single thing. Overwhelmed with pleasure, you grab his wrist to stop him from rubbing your nipple to make sure it’s the most perfect orgasm you’ve ever had—not too much and not too little. 

And it’s neither. Instead, it’s perfection. You knew it would be. It seems to last forever but somehow not long enough. As soon as you finish, you miss it. 

Catching your breath, your vision clears up as you look up at him with a smile. He shyly asks, “How was that?” 

You take a deep breath and say, “Oh my god, that was so good.” Rubbing soothing strokes up and down your thighs, you can tell he’s getting impatient. But still—he’d never pressure you in a million years. 

Bending to kiss your neck again, he whispers, “Can I cum inside you?” You nod frantically. 

“Please.” 

“I have condoms if you want.” You think about it for a second. Really. You would love nothing more than to feel him fill you up. But it’s risky. “Mommy…” His hips slowly start moving again, encouraging a decision from you. “What are you thinking?”

“Cum inside me, please. Wanna feel all of you,” you say, rubbing his back. He smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss that sends your head reeling. He sits up and squeezes your thighs over and over, adoring the way your body feels in his hands. Soft and squishy and intoxicating. Licking your own thumb, you pinch and rub one of his nipples, making his mouth drop open. He didn’t even think of having his own nipples played with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he gasps. You praise him, Cum inside me, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me. I want you to feel so good for me, okay? And he’s rutting his hips into you roughly, using your body for his own pleasure. You simply can’t get enough. You want him inside you forever and ever. “You’re…” he trails off. “You’re gonna make me cum, Mommy.”

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” Like it’s a command, his hips stutter and his cum fills you up, warm and sweet and heavenly. Swears and other inaudible words you hope are compliments spill out of his mouth. Falling forward, he digs his face into your neck once more, twitching until he comes to a stop, taking deep breaths. 

You expect a warm smile to echo his warm cum filling you up but he stays put. In fact, he doesn’t move or say anything for quite some time. So much time passes that his cock has slipped out of you on its own, his cum leaking down the swell of your ass. 

You finally break the silence, “Are you okay?” He nods awkwardly. “Look at me.” He shakes his head. “What’s wrong?” He still won’t budge. “Soobin, what’s going on?”

“I’m embarrassed,” he whines.

“Huh? About what?” 

“Calling you mommy,” he finally sits up. “I was just caught up in the moment—I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—”

“Honey,” you giggle, sitting up with him. “I told you I liked it.” 

“You weren’t just saying that?”

“I don’t think I would’ve came that hard if I didn’t like it.” 

His eyes brighten before adding, “I guess so.” It genuinely was one of the strongest orgasms you’ve ever had. Surely, he has to know that, right? But wait— 

“Was it good for you?”

“Oh my god,” he’s finally relaxed a little, peppering your face with kisses. “That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had, I swear.” He stands, walking into his en-suite to get you a towel, damp with warm water. “So…” he starts awkwardly. “Should we, like, report this to the dean?” 

“Is that your way of asking me to be exclusive?” He blushes as you brush some of his hair behind his ear. “Because my answer is absolutely.” You press your lips together. “Although, can we hold off for a while? Just until next semester starts?”

“Be in our own little world for a bit?” He smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist. “You’re taking a break until next semester, right? Are you working right now?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I got a bunch of scholarships to pay for school,” you say proudly. 

“Why am I not surprised?” 

“Because I’m the smartest person you know,” you say cheekily. 

“No lectures until next semester, so I’m pretty much free.” He smiles, clearly wanting to say something more, but bites his tongue. “Can I ask you something?” You nod. “This may be moving way too fast, but do you maybe wanna spend the holidays here? With me?”

The next few weeks are a whirlwind. Both of you admit it’s too fast. But neither of you care. The fireplace roars as you decorate his Christmas tree together, wrapped presents, baked cookies, everything you could think of that ooey-gooey couples do. 

And of course, nightly sex is a bonus. You simply can’t get enough of each other. And you just about lose it when you walk into the kitchen on Christmas morning. He’s standing at the counter wearing a Santa hat, flannel pajama pants, and a black tank top making your favorite tea. 

“Ah, there she is! Good morning,” he says with a smile. You take a plate full of chocolate chip waffles from him. But not before he kisses you. Cupping your cheek, he pulls you into perhaps the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had. You can feel his smile on your lips. 

And everything feels absolutely perfect. You think you may be dreaming, but he feels so very real at this moment. And his voice is clear as day, “Merry Christmas.” 

[aikoiya]

Thank you so much!! I try! I really do! 😁 But then, I also enjoy it, so, ya know. 😆

I really like thinking about this & I'm glad that, if nothing else, I've given you some food for thought.

Now that you mention it, Thundra being Castor Wilds is a pretty interesting possibility. 🤔

I can understand your perspective & it's no less plausible than mine. Though, I will say that, for the nostalgia thing, I remember hearing that, part of the reason was that they thought they'd explored everything they could in as a unique a way as they thought they could, but that EoW showed them that the classic formula still had so stuff they could play with.

Huh... I wasn't aware of the sabaku pun! Cool! I like that, but yes, you're right. It could be a different location. Though, I actually think I knew about the Tabanta thing, but I still find it neat!

---

I'll be honest, I actually had a number of issues with TotK's story myself, but then I started watching analysis on the game & the character's motives from a more Japanese perspective &, when I did, things finally started to make a degree of sense.

For those living in the other timelines at the time of the merge, what happened was most likely something similar to what happened with the flood. The gods told those living in those timelines' Hyrules to scale to the mountain summits & wait. They did it before, why not again?

As for what they'd know? Myth & legend. Little knowledge of what truly happened, but then again. Not long ago, IRL we also believed that Sparta was a mythical, made-up city, but then the actual city was uncovered. Sometimes, things are just forgotten & then found again. It happens & yes, it's sad & maybe sometimes it makes things feel like it was all pointless, but that doesn't mean that it is.

So, even though it may seem that combining the timelines erases any consequences of Time dying, I actually wouldn't really say as such. Those things still happened. And, if I were to say anything, it's likely because of the merge that the Wild Era has so few references to the past. Because it would cause there to be 3 different histories with inconsistent narratives, which would likely be why the Era of Myth would be called as such.

Also, by this point, it's likely been approaching 50,000 years since SS... Like, I dunno, it just seems like that's a heckton of time, ya know?

Though, I guess that I feel like "just" is a bit of a stretch. Like, in my mind, the gods of Hyrule aren't all-powerful. They have limits to what they can do, so if they wanna do something as big as merging timelines, I think it would take literal millennia of planning & organizing & making sure that things are just so. As such, I'd be surprised if there wasn't some huge reason for this.

In my mind, the timelines still exist, but they eventually merge back together later down the line. Like, the pasts of those timelines don't just disappear. More so, it's like if a river divides into 2 before joining again somewhere else. There was still a point when they were separate, it's just isn't now. But don't take this as me trying to convince you of anything. I'm just a rachet-jaw (means I talk a lot) & I like chattering about my hyperfixations & explaining things. I understand that my takes are most likely pretty confusing, too, so I don't mind criticism, either! 😆

For the dragons, I actually really didn't like their designs. I preferred how they designed the Light Dragon, though I'd have liked it better if she'd had a more leonnine tail.

And, the dragons could very well be a reference to Skyward Sword, but I never thought that they were literally the dragons from then. A) They never talked. B) The element of the blue dragon was wrong as well.

For Rauru as the first king of Hyrule, my thoughts are that he didn't found Hyrule, but more so, he re-founded it unknowingly, likely naming it after the stories he heard from the locals of an ancient & prosperous kingdom of light. It wouldn't be the first time that a place was named after a legend in hopes of bringing about prosperity.

And, I actually think that it's heavily implied that before Rauru, Hyrule was unnamed & the tribes were at war. One thing I remember Ganondorf saying in the Japanese version was that he wished to return the world to how it was meant to be. But this would indicate that before Rauru, the land & its people were at war. Possibly for a very long time. If so, then if my theory is correct, then it would mean that the main populous of the land when the merge took place would've been the descendants of the Great Islanders of WW. However, if you recall, the islands ran in an acephalous manner, meaning without a single ruling head or centralized government. So, the citizens of the Downfall & Child Timelines would've been, in many ways, refugees of 2 destroyed worlds. Refugees that would begin to integrate into this post flood world that had only been called the Great Sea, but was now no longer a sea. A land that had no princess, because the princess had left to found a new land. It is why Sonia was referred to as a priestess rather than a princess before she married Rauru. Because the Royal Family had been dissolved. Much like how it was in BotW. And, to be fair, Zelda 2 was also a post-apocalyptic time.

Then, I think that Ganondorf also mentions that Rauru & Mineru were the only surviving Zonai... Which... yeah, that makes the fact that he causes their deaths even more effed up because he essentially just committed genocide...

And, it really isn't all that odd for magical sky beings to appear & be thought of as close to the gods or even gods themselves only to never be seen or heard of again. The Occa & the Minish for a couple. In my mind, the Zonai were just another race of people who lived in the sky. And, keep in mind that Hyrule has the same constellations as Earth & it's been said that Hyrule's world is an alternate earth where magic exists. In such a case, we have really & truly seen nothing as far as their world goes.

Like, absolutely nothing. Because BotW's Hyrule was very specifically based on the creator's hometown of Kyoto, so if this information follows, then this is all that we really know about Hyrule's world:

(Also, sorry about that. Vendettas is just an LU-style nickname I thought up for TotK's Ganondorf. Just ignore it.)

So, I guess that when I think about it that way, it's actually much more feasible to me.

Which is another huge thing I wanna see from Nintendo: remasters or sequels to Zelda 1-2 & the Oracle games! All we ever see is Hyrule! Show me some more places outside of that, Nintendo! Let's go back to these really super old places & retell those stories in a new style! Let's hear more about places outside of Hyrule! Let's hear about how Labrynna & Holidrum are doing! Let's learn about other kingdoms & their relation with Hyrule! Let's bring this story to the world stage!! We have an entire world to explore & all they've been playing with is that tiny, piddly little speck???

But going back a bit, I remember that Zelda inherited both Rauru's Light & Sonia's Time magic. In fact, she even said as such. So, I am very much under the impression that, yes, Zelda is their dependent, we just never hear about Rauru & Sonia's child, which is one of my only major issues with the game. As for Zelda's stone changing... Yeah? The stones themselves never had elements to them. They're blank power modifiers that take on the attributes of their wielder. You see it happen twice in the game with Zelda turning Rauru's Light Stone into a Time Stone & then Ganondorf takes Sonia's Time Stone & turns it into a Dark Stone.

And, I actually know a thing or 2 as to why Ganondorf got so much more from the stone than the others. And it has to do with a Japanese concept of how rancor & something known as On'nen works.

You should really look up QuestWithAaron & watch some of his Zelda analysis videos, they're really interesting because he dives in super deep into the original Japanese translations & even brings into perspective the nuances & cultural significances of things.

For one, that Demise & Ganondorf aren't literal demons. Not in a western sense. They're much more analogous to the Japanese concepts of Akuma, which are entities of negative karma born from overwhelming hatred. They are even well-known for placing the sort of curses that Demise did.

It turns out that there's a lot of Buddhist & Shintoist influence on the Zelda series as a whole & once you know this, you find it difficult not to see it.

On'nen is essentially what Malice was in the previous game & Shoki is what Gloom is, but a more accurate term for it would've been Miasma as it goes beyond simply being a corruptive force & into being not dissimilar to pollution or a plague (which is most likely why they went with Gloom instead considering the event that took place around when it came out). On'nen is rancor. It is an overwhelming & enduring hatred & resentment that can even be carried through multiple lives. And it isn't just some feeling, but can become a legitimately corrupting force. In a lot of ways, it's what allows for the existence of death curses. So, I think that due to the way that the stones work, which the Japanese version says that the stones very specifically double the power of the individual. But, the thing is that TotK Ganondorf's power is directly connected to his resentment & hatred. So, if this is the case, what happens when his resentment grows? Well, so too does his Shoki, which is why it's so bad. And, in fact, Shoki is just a more concentrated form of On'nen, meaning that Gloom is just a more concentrated form of Malice. And remember that Gloom didn't just decay the Master Sword, it also decays all the weapons in Hyrule, which itself actually connects the game back to BotW, because that right there is the reason for the durability in the games to begin with! The reason that all the weapons would shatter so quickly in both games is very specifically because Ganondorf's hate-magic was saturated all over the place & causing the weapons to be corroded. But knowing this, we now have a reason as to why the Master Sword was breaking! Fi wasn't weaker, Ganondorf just found the perfect way to combat her!

And, I actually think that we did sort of see something connected to the Zonai in a previous game. Or, more so, we say something they once were.

And, this one might be a bit controversial if goofy, but I think that they are, essentially, evolved remlits. 😆

But, at the end of the day, it's well within your right to have not enjoyed TotK's story or the Zonai. You stick with whatever hc you like most or think is most plausible! I'm just the weirdo who enjoys trying to fit things together regardless of whether Aonuma cares or not. Sure, he's the authority on it, but at the same time, this is just me having fun! 😁

---

Regardless, my many many thanks for all your help!

This has been so very fun & I loved talking & speculating! And I'll definitely be using some of your suggestions, though before that, what do you think of a portmanteau of Croisés & Confluances? It'd probably sound like gibberish, huh? 😅

I was also thinking of naming things in the Zora area that are named after sages as Saint. So, Mipha Court would eventually become Cour Saint Mipha?

But, I gotta say... I would love to see a Zelda spin-off game where you play as a Sea Zora & you go around the ocean to different Zora settlements where we could see more of their culture independent of Hyrule. Like, I imagine them curing bull kelp, then twining them together to make rope. Or that settlements tend to either be close to the surface, on land, or near hydrothermal vents & that, because of this, cooking tends to be a more communal thing.

If not that, I'd like to see some more dark games like OoT & MM someday.

Like, hoy vey, dude! The Dead Hand was seriously messed up, but it gives so much food for thought!

But, sorry! Went off on a tangent! I've enjoyed hearing your thoughts, too! It's really interesting to think about all this! 😁

Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. 😅 I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?

I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.

And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?

I'm sorry if this is weird... 😅

Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D

Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:

Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)

Zora Cove = Baie Zora

Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire

In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.

It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.

Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.

I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.

You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)

(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention 😆 maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)

In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village Côtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.

As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".

I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.

French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^

I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.

There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in Mignéville or Lévignac, or l'Île de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).

Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.

I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)

And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^

[constantvariations]

When there's a show that has lots of combat but little to no killing, there's usually a reason for that. I don't just mean the target audience being children (which is a stupid claim anyway, kids can handle way more shit than adults give them credit for), I mean a Watsonian explanation

Aang doesn't kill because he believes it's against his pacifist culture

Batman doesn't kill because he believes in second chances

Vash doesn't kill because it would make Rem sad

But when it comes to the rwby world, the whos and whys of killing... aren't really there?

The villains kill on-screen often, which is a given since, yknow, villains. But our heroes have never had a discussion of how far they're willing to go for their goals

It could've been established during any of the Salem talks, but instead the writers handle it with kid gloves with that Saturday morning cartoon "How do I destroy Salem?" Like, we saw a whole ass human being turned to ash, ShawLuna, you can say "kill," I promise

Due to this, I thought the dynamic was "villains kill, heroes don't," which is fairly typical for shows with this tone

And then Adam was murdered. On screen. By two of our heroes

It was genuinely jarring. There was no lead up to this kind of action, no talk of "doing whatever it takes" or "we have to prepare to do things we might live to regret." Just BAM STAB DEAD

And not even a conversation after! There's literally nothing to distinguish the before/after murder versions of Yang and Blake, which is bad! You took a whole ass man's life! Blake knew him personally! His dreams, his fears, the way he took his coffee, the whole nine yards! Even if it had to be done, that should still have a major affect! Hell, my best friend cried for hours after a bird hit the windshield on our road trip, yet these two are totally okay with ending a person

Even stranger, there has yet to be actual blood spilled by our heroes after that. Not even a skinned knee! Deaths happen around them, not because of them

You've already opened the door for the reaper, you might as well let it settle in for tea

[fierykitten2]

Pokémon fans don’t understand that “event-exclusive” means that Wake and Leaves can’t (and shouldn’t be at least until the next time they appear in a game that isn’t SV) be found in the game outside events part 8000000000000000

[anghraine]

wind-sage replied to this post:

it is a really fun compare and contrast between Leia I am FULLY an Organa and Luke I am a Skywalker. Neither is Wrong, just important to respect the others choice with it.

Yes, I agree! Their experiences and identities wrt the family members who raised them are often framed as equivalent, but in the OT, they really do seem to relate to each of their families in very different ways.

Leia is not indifferent to her biological parents; she has a tie to Padmé through the Force that lingers with her and matters to her, and it's very upsetting for Leia to find out her natural father is Darth Vader. But the Organas are no less her parents for that. To Leia, "my father" means Bail Organa as much as it invariably means Anakin Skywalker to Luke. She is Bail and Breha's daughter and heir in every way that matters, the princess of Alderaan to her fingertips. Even her blood relationship to Luke only reinforces the close friendship that already exists between them, and would probably matter much less to her without the pre-existing relationship and accompanying Force bond.

But all suggestion in the OT is that Luke was raised as a beloved nephew with his father's and grandmother's name, not a son in the way Leia is a daughter. And it's a potentially dangerous name, at that, which only reinforces the importance in that family situation of honoring Anakin and Shmi in how Luke was brought up to think of himself. Luke's powerful consciousness of himself as Anakin's son doesn't seem just his own thing or conflict at all with how Owen and Beru talk about Luke's tie to Anakin, but rather, reflects it— they say "your father" or "his father" to refer to Anakin and are extremely aware of Luke's legacy from Anakin (and presumably Shmi).

The fostering of a relative's child within the family can often be complex in that way, even IRL, so this isn't even improbable. And given that Owen is Luke's uncle because Owen's father bought and then freed and married Luke's grandmother who died horribly later on, it's not surprising that they would have qualms about erasing the Skywalker history or that the general family dynamic might be a bit more fraught. Luke pretty emphatically does not see Beru as his mother, despite his affection for her; he refers to Padmé as Leia's "real mother" and adds "I have no memory of my mother. I never knew her"—clearly he can only mean Padmé. It seems to me that he's digging for information about Padmé because her absence represents a different kind of loss for him than it does for Leia herself.

And yeah, I could see the disparity in their experiences being something they have to navigate later on, but ultimately the only way to fully reconcile that, IMO, is for them to realize that their family dynamics and sense of legacy were fundamentally not the same and they're not going to relate to their parents the same ways.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

stans are actually very funny bc they often time talk themselves into the weirdest corners.

the whole point of criticizing acosf and its handling of nesta's character is to prove the point that sjm...doesn't like nesta as a character. that's is literally THE point - that sjm often abandons her moral themes (abuse, trauma, assault, etc.,) for character's deemed as undesirable or villainous to a capacity - and its through the handling of those 'vilified' (i.e. main character opposed - not even villianous) that we can gauge the extent to which sjm actually believes the ideals of her story. like - it is alarming that the only tolerable, empathetic parts of the a court of silver flames were the moments you could tell where ripped straight from sjm's own life (the hiking, training, mind-stilling etc.,). any actual characteristics about nesta weren't explored...like at all. her relationship with feyre and elain, with her mother, her trauma from her sexual assault, her conflicted relationship with her grandmother, her life before the cabin, her life during the cabin. in 800 pages - i still don't know mama archeron's name. what was life like in the cabin? what did nesta do all day? what was the dynamic? what was going on between elain and nesta?i don't know anything about her and nesta, we don't know anything about nesta's human life, her conversation with clare bedor, her relationship with clare beddor, moments with her dad - not even touching moments with him (and part of this story is her finding love for her dad). mind you we read 800+ pages and we learned absolutely nothing about her.

we essentially read sjm's emotional journey in one part, and a taming of the shrew narrative in another. i think the only way sjm had genuine interest in exploring nesta's story is through essentially self-inserting herself and avoiding the actual plot-points she set up in the first three books. like did nesta have childhood friends? if losing the wealth so drastically affected her life wouldn't she reminisce about it a lot? would she yearn for her mother? who were her childhood friends, how did she function at court?

and the whole point of saying alll of that is to argue the misuse of these topics - serious discussions abuse are only reserved for certain situation, and others its completely undermined in a way that only reinforces the negative ideals to begin with. (i.e. nesta needs to abused bc..." "the intervention was harsh but" - pair that with discussion around what feyre needed in acomaf - and it makes much more sense).

nesta antis often jump between the fact that nesta is so favored that sjm nerfed feysand to 'redeem her' and arguing that sjm secretly does everything in her power to embarrass and secretly laugh at people who like nesta's character. (1) we've gotta pick one or the other (2) in my humble opinion - sjm would have always given feyre a pregnancy plot like this regardless of whether this was nesta's book or elain. its literally so sjm. im shocked people are surprised she pulled the pregnancy as she did.

as with the tamlin discussion we had under this post - i think the story undermines its discussion of abuse with feyre/tam by essentially insinuating that tamlin (when placed in the same victimized position as feyre) should have sucked it up and braved out his abuse with amarantha (and the same with rhysand as well - esp with the deliberate foil of rhysand's 'willingness' v. tamlin's unwillingness). and when we start to have a real conversation ultilizing our own irl analysis and standards we really see how harmful and rather sisyphean the conversation becomes. instead of engaging with these topics earnestly, they only engage in them to prove a point - which is how the issue began in the first place. the whole issue with rhysand isn't the fact that he engages with harmful, potentially villainous positions. no - its that the book wants to prove that tamlin is wrong by justifying rhysand's actions. so even though rhysand and tamlin almost always have the same written and expressed intentions in their abuse of feyre, the book flocks to justify one, and eschews the other. and thats why we get so much reactionary critcism of rhys that is surface: people only admit the problems because they know antis will, not because they actually believe their are issues in the story.

and perhaps im still speaking into a void here but i can tell there's tension between pro stans wanting to have these serious conversations but understanding they can only really introspect so far until the conversation begin to prod at the validity of the topics being brought forth. so stans have to jump between invalidating the romantasy genre ("its just faeries") and treating this book as a serious topic (cue: "sjm put a hotline in the back of the book"). this is also the exact reason why the racism conversations stall (i.e. why inherent superiority is always passively emphasized - despite cc1 + 2 centering human oppresion there is no human in the ensemble cast. despite the fact that illyrian women are the most oppressed - rhys has no illyrian women - or reg illyrians (not his brothers) in his inner circle. aelin 'sacrificing' her human body).

[yersina]

a linguist* plays chants of sennaar (pt 1)

*i studied linguistics for four years and concurrently did three years of sociolinguistics research, but i'm not currently employed in a linguistics-related field.

[pt 2] [pt 3] [pt 4] [pt 5]

thought i'd have some fun breaking down the languages in cos and stretch my rarely used linguistics muscles in the process! disclaimer: can't promise that i'll have any insights that a layperson wouldn't have, this is kinda just me thinking through the grammar of the language out loud haha.

this post covers the first language and will contain spoilers! it also assumes that you know what each of the symbols means already.

so the three glyphs from the devotee's language that you get introduced to right off the bat already tells me a lot: it's a pictographic logography (real life example: chinese characters), which is probably a good place to start for people who are new to language deciphering (also, none of these languages are spoken so an alphabet would be pointless lol). a logography is a writing system that represents whole words/concepts with a single character, as opposed to representing the sounds that the words make (like alphabets or syllabaries). i haven't completely finished the game yet (most of the way through the fourth language), but i'm p sure 1) all of the languages are logographies and 2) the devotee's language is the most true-to-life with its pictograms.

with these three words we can also begin to establish a pattern--verbs most likely have a line on the bottom, which holds true for the rest of the characters. i think the only exception to this rule is the character for "greeting", which is also used as the verb "salute" later in the game (an interesting choice (considering etymologies for greetings in irl languages), but it makes sense when your language is only 40 words lol). other patterns include the curved line for tools, the semi-open box for structures/locations, and the half-circle with the line for things relating to sight (which amusingly is also the overall game symbol for examining something). (not gonna include things like "man" and "music" and "plant" in this list cause they're defined in game.) i do think it's kind of fun that they introduced "i/me" and "you" before they introduced "man"—it validates that you'll find patterns haha.

(while writing the prev paragraph, it finally hit me that the symbol for "key" is open-tool. isn't that cool!)

i did notice at one point in the game that there was a devotee word that was cut off in one of the stone carvings that looked like it might have been the equivalent for "fortress"--it was the room radical with the two opposing arrows from the word for "warrior". although it's not validated by the game's automatic translation function, it does seem to be evidence that the language elements are fairly flexible and recombinable!

this language is SVO (subject verb object), like english, which again is a choice that makes sense in terms of easing people in. it uses reduplication with nouns to indicate plurality, which as far as i can tell is unique amongst the languages in this game. there's no tense markers, which is common to all the languages in this game (again, as far as i can tell without having encountered the last language yet). given how simple the languages in the game need to be, i'm not surprised that there aren't really auxiliary verbs or indications of infinitives either.

questions that still remain unanswered: - "dead/death", "seek", and "find" all have dots that don't show up in the other characters. not sure why that's the case. could be a representation of something metaphysical? - the character for "go/pass" has a "room" radical on the right side and something else on the left side. wonder if that was intentional

[emphasisonthehomo]

OOh, i like streamer au!

First question: how did Tommy begin to stream?

Second question: does tommy recognised Buck from the chat? Maybe he has an inkling given by an unique turn of phrase or a weird word he is the only one to use.

third question: how does Buck recognising him change their first meeting and their date?

Fourth question: which is your favourite part? What didnt make the cut but was an interesting concept?

Obviously, i love your writing, i'm always giddy when you post anew snippet and i don't even watch 911!

Omg thank you so much!!!

Twitch Streamer Tommy

ONE:

I think it started out as a joke tbh. Like one of his friends was visiting and saw Tommy's truly ridiculous set up for it, and was like "Dude you should stream this" and Tommy thought "Eh, fuck it" and did. And it picked up fast and does surprisingly well, so he just keeps doing it.

It's big enough that it's a little extra income, but not so huge that he's a Big Name re: gaming streamers or anything. He's got some friends in Europe or something that help him mod the chat. People keep telling him to make t shirts, but that sounds like too much work and he's already fucking busy, so he doesn't.

He does at one point get a 'remove before flight' t shirt at an air show, and wears it on a stream one time and takes it off before takeoff, and people go fucking nuts.

TWO:

I think Tommy would recognize Buck's handle as someone who is frequently in chat and is pretty active, but I don't know if he'd make the connection about the handle name actually being Evan, without Buck saying something. Tommy does interact with the chat a lot, but he is also actively flying while he streams. It's a lot of glancing over, seeing a question, and answering it. In Tommy's mind the chat is kind of it's own entity, instead of a bunch of individual people.

THREE:

Buck hasn't really conceptualized that what he has on Tommy is a crush. He just thinks Tommy's cool. And then he's suddenly being flown into a hurricane by the man, and it turns out Tommy actually flying is somehow hotter more interesting than Tommy playing a video game. Because this is real. This is actually life or death, and Tommy's a fucking excellent pilot and Buck is. He's just flustered. About it.

Buck's trying to find a delicate way to be like "ARE YOU REMOVEB4FLIGHT?" even though they're on the tail end of the cruise debacle, but Eddie beats him to it. Eddie just asks Tommy point blank "Do you play video games online? I think my son watches your show" and then Tommy gets flustered. Obviously pleased and surprised, because he's never been ~recognized IRL~ and the first time he has, it's by a peer because his kid watches. There's something really exciting about that.

I think it's Christopher that tells Tommy that Buck also watches the streams and how it's a Thing They Do Together. (Chris, of course, gets to learn how to play flight simulator on Tommy's ridiculous setup) And Tommy's like "huh" because Evan didn't say anything. Buck is stewing in jealousy because how come Eddie gets to hang out with the cool firefighter pilot and Chris, instead of him? Eddie doesn't even care about the streams >:(

I don't think Buck asks for a tour, he hears about the Vegas trip after the fact and is just green with envy. But I do think the basketball game still happens, and Tommy comes to Buck's apartment to clear the air. Because Tommy now knows that Buck is vaguely a fan, and Buck knows that Tommy knows, I don't think there'd be a smooch.

The added aspect of Entertainer and Fan would make it kind of weird, they're not necessarily on a level playing field (yet). Buck isn't starstruck per se, but he's also not just another firefighter Tommy met on a job. Tommy sticks to assuming that yes, Buck is jealous, but that it's a combination of Eddie being his bestie and Tommy having minor amounts of internet fame.

BUT THEN they do start hanging out, both with and without Eddie and/or Chris, and become friends. And Tommy starts to look at Evan and go "...is he?" and Buck is oblivious because he's hanging out with Tommy and Tommy's so cool and yeah he's got a good ass but it's not like Buck is staring at it a lot (he is) and Eddie is looking at the two of them dance around each other and going "HUH. INTERESTING."

FOUR:

I think it's just a fun concept in general, and I do love it when there's more of a slow burn when characters get together. Friends to lovers is *chef's kiss* and all that jazz.

I did think about including snippets of Tommy interacting w/ the chat, but ultimately scrapped those because it seemed like too much extra stuff. But I think at least once a stream, something like this happens:

Chat 1: so is there a Mrs. B4FLIGHT?

Tommy: *snorts and starts laughing*

Mod 1: no

Tommy: "I'm not interested in women."

Mod 2: dumb comments will result in getting blocked

Chat 2: you don't look gay

Mod 1: BLOCKED

Mod 2: BLOCKED

[hardlypartying]

idk if you have watched much press for s4 but maddie bailey is sending me with her responses to any riara related questions or fan praise…. (i think she’s obviously traumatised from the jiara situation.) anyway bailey made a comment about how kiara couldn’t stand murder let alone someone harming a fly which would make riara totally incompatible - and whilst i agree that’s true i also feel like her character would be the most capable of empathy/forgiveness compared to the other pogues!?!? like she’s so humanistic!!!!

would love your thoughts and a potential kiara deep dive 🫣

This ask is very apropos and you’re gonna need a drink…

I’m with you on the fact that Madison is probably traumatized by the way jiara was blown out of proportion by some fans and how that bled into their dynamics irl. It sucks so much that’s how it went down and I feel for them that they can’t be friends without things being made weird.

That being said, I don’t understand this extreme hatred she has towards Rafe potentially working his way to being a better person— regardless of him being someone who could potentially be with Kiara. Sure, don’t ship them but to say the fans of the ship don’t care about Kiara is… a take.

I 1000% agree with you, I think more so than anyone else Kiara as a character is capable of forgiveness given the opportunity to understand someone. Her heart and passion is what drew me in, she is so empathetic that its sometimes comes at her expense— I think that’s what her parents are terrified about when they see her hanging around the Pogues. Granted, the Pogues we know are genuine guys but her parents don’t know that or care to take the time to get to know them. Kiara did and since has had an unwavering loyalty to them. Her heart is so big and it’s perplexing to me that Madison thinks that there’s a cap on that? I personally don’t get it. I see Rafe as someone deeply troubled and who has never given a chance to get help— he lives with what he did everyday and resents himself for it. He was unwell, but rather than allowing him some grace, we’re what? Bashing him as he’s trying to make amends? Personally I believe that under the right circumstances any single one of the Pogues would’ve done what Rafe did regardless of who was in front of the gun, but their loyalty fits right on them and not on him. Rafe has continually expressed such a complex range of emotions about what he’s done and how he’s managing it— none of it was linear but that makes sense to me. I don’t expect him to have a clear path out of this but fucking hell he’s trying.

What really confuses me about their rhetoric is that they hate the idea of Kiara and Rafe because he’s dangerous, a murderer, psychotic, buzzword buzzword but then they’re happy to ship him with Sofia? Then all of a sudden it’s a cute relationship and he’s found his match. Dpmo. If they really believed Rafe was that dangerous why would they want Sofia, who is completely innocent in all this, to be with someone who has the potential to be violent again 🤨 Bc she’s “changed” him? It’s insipid and hypocritical.

Now for a mini Kie deep dive— at first I didn’t really get why Madison was playing Kiara like that during their scene together. She looked genuinely terrified seeing Rafe and her body language was so telling. And in my mind I’m surprised by her reaction because we’re seeing him heheing it up with Sofia and making business moves like? What are you afraid of? Venture capitalists? Yes. But then I took a moment to think about the state of mind Kiara was in.

I don’t think it was an extreme thing she did to pull out the knife. In her point of view someone just tried to kill her. Drown her no less and who else tried to drown her? Rafe. Her survival instincts were probably shooting through the roof because every time she sees Rafe, it’s never for a good reason. And you got to remember the very last time she saw him was at the beach with the sea turtles… not a good memory. She’s got no reason to trust he’s here out of the kindness of his heart, she doesn’t see/know him like that. All that mixed in with that batshit guy who’s hunting the Pogues down and the fact she’s alone— yeah the knife was a smart move. I think she would’ve done the same if Topper showed up tbh. I’m also proud of Rafe for not freaking out when seeing her hostility lmao, he’s come a long way. Back in the day (s2) if he saw that knife come out, he would’ve escalated the situation and made things worse.

And just to throw my two cents here— Rafe has been dogged this season. Oh my goooooddddd. You’re telling me he’s scattering his dad’s ashes alone, the only Cameron who cares? His dad who he last saw going off to South America with the Pogues? The Pogues who hate Ward and want him gone? And then his dad dies? Right after Rafe finally gets the approval and affection from Ward that he’s always wanted? And no one has given him an explanation of what went down? I’m surprised he hasn’t crashed out on them tbh. That little tiff he had with John B was too polite. In his mind 2+2= the Pogues killed Ward. Sarah and Rafe quite literally carried Ward to the tarmac together and it was all for nothing? No small reconciliation for the sake of Ward’s memory, after all he was their father. And he died for Sarah. It’s crazy to me.

Anyway I’m a spiteful person and the more people hate something the more I lean into it. The cast hating riara is hilarious to me because this ship was born out of nothing and now it’s in their mouths. Wild. I’m just upset that they’re facilitating hate towards people who ship riara, I’m of the mentality that you ship and let ship. Not gonna yuck anyone’s yum!

[vintagelacerosette]

Tag game 🎀

I was tagged by these opalescent starlights ✨️

Evie @energievie Deanna @deedala Jacyln @crossmydna

Ling @lingy910y Face @burninface Melodie @sirrudo

Ice @spookygingerr Pie @gallapiech Molly @deathclassic

Laurel @lupeloto Jessica @guinguin1984 Georgia @iansw0rld

When is yours? 31st of July

Where were you born? Stralia 🇦🇺

How do you feel about your legal name? Are you using it online and/or IRL? I like my name but hate the spelling bc it's not spelt how you pronounce it. Online I went with my nickname to keep privacy. but I realise that's a bit of a down fall bc that's the part that's not spelt right lol. I like my name tho Shermyn said as Shermain. So Myn should be said like Main! Many I times I'll be correcting anyone that meets me but, I think spelling is unique & I kinda think looks nice

How about your sign? Do you feel it "fits"? I am a Leo & our traits are supposedly: exudes warmth and creativity, a little bit vain, really big personality, wants to stand out & interested in luxury, Which I can see I do fit that hehe I love being creative & I'll admit I'd ask if we can take a photo again bc I don't like how I look in that angle 🫣

What's your earliest memory related to your birthday? I remember having a birthday at Mcdonald's where we had the whole party package! There was Maccas party crowns & I had my kindy friends come.

I remember having a magician dressed up as a wizard & doing the scarf trick & at the end of it it was a pair of pink undies & he played horrified why they were there lol. Also we played pass the parcel & I passed it slowly bc I wanted the prize lmao

What's one of the best gifts you've ever received? It happened recently! One of my bestie gave me a diamond painting of Gallavich of their prison kiss after their mutual "I love you"! It was the best & it was my first gallavich gift!!! 🥰 I'll post when I finish & I wanna custom more diamond paintings like some of the fanart I've done!!! 🩷

How about one of the best you've given yourself? Shameless plug but commissioning art from the ever talented Alice @darthvaders-wife it was my first time & I wanted to do something special for my birthday while being in this awesome fandom! her commissions are open now!!!

What's your favourite cake flavour? Like my dearest Molly I like a good red velvet

How about your favourite flowers? Lily of the valley & cherry/peach blossoms

Have you ever thrown a birthday party? If yes, tell us about your favourite one. I loved this one I held it at this cool activity function had had a range of activities like floor piano, shooting hoops, spelling scramble with huge cubes. I got my girlfriends to dress all in pink & then we had pizza. They also surprised me with these beautiful blue platform heels! I was not expecting that at all!! 🥰

What's the ultimate birthday song?

All that's coming in my mind is Birthday by Katy & it's a bop tho

And last but not least, pick a celebrity with whom you share your birthday. Oh cool B. J. Novak who was Ryan in The Office

I'll tag these dazzling sweerhearts if they wanna play 💖

@suzy-queued @celestialmickey @look-i-love-u @stocious

@wehangout @ofalltheginjoints @darthvaders-wife

@heymrspatel @svltburn @michellemisfit @ian-galagher

@doshiart @mickittotheman @sleepyfacetoughguy

@kiinard @bekkachaos @mikhailoisbaby @jademickian

@darlingian @takeyourpillsbitchh @gallavichgeek

@creepkinginc @rereadanon @gallawitchxx @samantitheos

@sickness-health-all-that-shit @7x10mickey

@mmmichyyy @flamingbluepanda @sam-loves-seb

@blue-disco-lights @ms-moonlight-inn @pookiebearmick

[melshome]

"happy birthday, you worm."

cw fluff characters scaramouche/f!reader a/n hehe, it was my birthday yesterday, so this oneshot is for a special occasion!! hehe this oneshot was kind of short, and i wasnt sure how to end it well, but i enjoyed writing this!

also note: you and scara are friends, but you two just don't talk irl!!

happy readingg~!

"Happy birthday Y/N!!" Lumine throw herself onto you, squeezing you tightly.

"Ah.. thank you.. But I'm kind of.. dying here.." You manage to say. She immediately remove herself off from you.

"Haha, I'm fine, but thank you!" you chuckle.

"Did you get any presents?" Lumine asks. Ayaka walks up, and also wishes you happy birthday.

"Thank you Ayaka~ And not yet. I ordered Enhypen's new album, and it's coming around the 22nd of may or something," you smile when Lumine and Ayaka smile, and starts talking about it with you, but you drift off into your own zone. You look around the classroom, when you notice Kunikuzushi staring at you from his group of friends.

You quickly turn back, right when Ayaka and Lumine ask you which photocard you want. The day goes by quite normally. The moment when you make eye contact with Kunikuzushi is still replaying in your head, but you go through most of the day. Your homegroup teacher, some of your elementary school friends and all of your friends from your class wish you a happy birthday.

Third and forth period goes by, and soon it's lunch. As you're walking to your locker, a bit behind as you were waiting for your friend, Bennet, you notice Kunikuzushi was looking up at your direction, but when looks back at his locker.

You just walk to your locker, thinking he was just looking for his friend. When you've put your books on the shelf in your locker, you hear your name being said from behind you. You have a feeling that it's Kunikuzushi, his voice is recognizable.

You turn around, and he's standing there, with your favourite kind of m&m packet in his hands, holding it towards you.

"Happy birthday you worm," he says, looking at you. He whispers the last part, but you heard him. You glance at him, and at the m&m packet. You smile.

"Oh, thank you.."

He walks off, and you turn back to your locker. One of your classmates, who's locker is next to yours, asks if she can have one.

You nod your head, but as you're putting the rest of your stuff away, you feel yourself tearing up.

He was the first one to give you a gift, even your parents haven't given you a gift yet. It was quite a surprise too, you weren't expecting him to give you anything, and since it was from him, you felt so happy. He barely talks to you during school, and since he gave the m&m's to you, you felt so happy. You wipe your tears, and open the packet. You pour some m&m's into your classmates hand, and she thanks you, and walks off.

You offer your friends some m&m's, and once you put it in your locker, you're still crying. As you're walking to the gate, you notice Kunikuzushi out of the corner of your eye. You turn to his direction, and notice that he's staring at you. Once he saw that you're looking at him. he gestures for you to follow him. You do so, and you two are standing there near the library.

"Ah, Kunikuzushi, thank you for the m&ms, they really made me happy for some reason," you smile at him.

He nods his head.

"I heard you cried? Your friend told me, what was that about? Are you okay?" He asks.

You're surprised from it. Him being concerned for you? That's.. You just fell for him even more.

"Ah, no no, it's fine! I'm okay, I don't know why I cried, I guess I cried for no reason," you chuckle awkwardly.

Kunikuzushi stares at you, before holding out his hand.

"Huh?" You ask, still wiping your eyes.

"Give me some m&ms," he says, looking straight into your eyes.

You smile, taking out the packet of m&ms from your bag.

[yuikomorii]

Heya! In which of the boys route do you think Yui was broken/hurt the most?

I always wanted to know which would be the worst scenario (route) for like.. an avarage girl irl . I know most girls would not survive there😅 but just wanted to know your opinion which of those 6 doors you would never open. Or 13 if we count all the characters.

// Since it's an otome game, it goes without saying that there will be a lot of plot armor and that the love interests can't really harm the heroine seriously throughout the route, regardless of what she does, because the plot would go nowhere like that. Most characters are jerks but not really that hard to handle, since they were known for scaring Yui rather than letting her get genuinely hurt. However there were certain Diaboys who were very scary, as it felt like they had no feelings of remorse or empathy.

Laito:

Can’t say that his HDB route is the worst thing Rejet has ever written (because it’s definitely not) but it baffled me how he was so okay with Yui breaking like that to the point where she lost all her will to live and only wanted to be set free from him. I mean, she literally tried to commit and he was just there not even intending to stop her bleeding veins despite being the one who cut them?? It’s true that in the Vampire Ending she doesn’t turn out that bad but after all, this is just because it’s fiction.

Kanato:

He was easier to understand than Laito because at least you were able to know that he had a soft spot for sweets and Teddy. Nevertheless, it was a bit too much how he kept stabbing Yui with the fork and a few chapters later, I’m pretty sure he stabbed Yui with a knife in more places as well. Still, it’s surprising how she turned out worse in his route, considering the fact that in the afterstory she kills innocent people—

Kou:

I love Kou but he was a literal demon in MB. I really hated how he made his fans bully Yui JUST FOR FUN. It wasn’t even any sort of punishment, he merely wanted to make her suffer. Another thing I couldn’t stand was how he kept putting Yui’s life in danger, only to make her prove her love. I understand wanting to test someone but it would have been way better if he actually saved Yui after seeing her do something dangerous. That way it would have proved that he cared for her yet he continued to watch her get hurt for him over and over again, without feeling any empathy. He was sorta redeemed at the end but yeah, most of his route was big yikes, especially since you wouldn’t have expected a cheerful and friendly idol like him to be such a wicked person.

Carla:

I like the Tsukinami family's desire to preserve their lineage but sorry, I must say that I find it repulsive that a 17-year-old would be forced to become pregnant out of the blue with strangers. I understand that Yui was partially to blame for Carla's anger and subsequent dungeon scene but that moment grossed me out sooo bad. She lost her will to live but Carla literally jumped on a depressed girl and was on the verge of rap€ing her, if his Endzeit didn’t kick in. He gets gradually better throughout his route but this scene left a sore taste in my mouth.

Kino:

Look, Kino is a great villain and a lot of fun, but his LE route was trash. Kino killed a child, mistreated Yui, abducted both Yui and Ayato, planned to sell Ayato to the church for execution, manipulated Yui and tortured Ayato. The pain he caused them both was immense and although I appreciated Yui calling him out, it's so sad that she was brainwashed. While it's true that Kino can be quite cute when he wants to, their romance was so rushed and forced because they didn't give us any reason why Yui would fall for him other than manipulation when Ayato, who was seen to care more about her than for himself, was right there. I wish they developed Kino’s feelings better, given that he straight up blackmailed Yui to become his, otherwise Ayato would had been killed, therefore Yui had no other choice but accept the situation. That’s why his CL route is way better.

I only mentioned 5 instead of 6 but that’s mostly because no other character came closer to them in terms of bad scenario. The rest of them felt decent in their routes for a game called Diabolik Lovers, lol.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

admittedly I'm not a big fan of the Rook spy family theory (I prefer other, wilder ones this one is too smart and normal lol), but there is something actually damning I'm not sure you know yet based off your old post: did you know that Ortho regularly scans him to tell how surprised/honest he is and finds out his vitals - heart rate, literally are the same in all situations and contexts? Like, I thought it was something super scary but it turns out it probably is a secret agent skill.

[Referencing this theory!]

Omg, Spy x Family? 😳/j

Sometimes it’s just the most boring theories that are the most likely to be canon or just make the most sense! This was the case for the “Ortho is dead” theory (which got confirmed in book 6), but could also be true of the yet-to-be-confirmed “Leech mob family” theory.

Oh no, I’m aware! I believe it’s in Rook’s Beans Camo vignettes where Ortho scans him to detect if he’s telling the truth or not based on vital readings. (That’s only one circumstance though; I don't believe Ortho does it regularly or in all scenarios because he specifically asks Rook for his permission in the vignette!) It’s just that with how much content there is out of TWST, it’s easy to forget certain details and hard to comb through all the available lore for what else may be relevant. I thought to just stick with major examples shown in the main story and events for that theory.

Anyway! It’s not all that shocking to learn, especially when we know what Ortho is capable of and when we’ve been given a very clear example of Rook manipulating his heart beat to his advantage. As I mention in the original post, Rook controls his heart rate to convince Sebek that he, too, is scared, and therefore is not Sebek’s enemy. This is something that Trey points out after the group’s tension has been safely dispelled. That in of itself implies that Rook’s vitals would typically be normal—he just actively chose to change it when it benefits him.

Keeping cool and calm in even tough situations? Definitely a very suspicious and spy-like skill to have in his toolkit 😂 I’d know because I read Spy x Family and Loid has that skill too— I believe many agents irl have to pass a polygraph (“lie detector”) test, which really detects changes in heartbeat and perspiration… so being able to control those physiological components is a must! Control of pupillary dilation is particularly rare; overriding reflexes wired into musculature takes active effort and training.

Darker version of this theory: the Hunts are assassins for the criminal underworld 💀

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for shooting my shot with someone, after our previous potential "romance" went sour?

I (F22) am friends with a guy who we'll call M (M21). M and I play the same game, so a few months prior, we ended up getting to know each other better and becoming flirtatious. M gave off a lot of signals he was very interested in me, and I reciprocated. I live in Canada and he lives in Italy; he expressed interest in being my tour guide at one point, so I asked if he'd like to go on a date with me if I went to Italy on vacation (as I have the money and time to do it over my school break). M backtracked, and said that distance meant we couldn't ever be "serious".

I felt very wounded, because he'd been very affectionate with me over the course of several weeks, and I admit it, I was a little emotionally volatile because I was PMSing. We got into a fight where we both said some goofy things, and it ended with us not talking to each other for a month. Over the course of that month, I came to realize I really missed him in my life, and I ended up reaching out to M. We both apologized and patched things up.

Another month has passed, and we're still friendly, though the nature of our relationship is a bit more impersonal now. Here's where things get awkward; I was pretty sure for a long time my feelings for M were mostly just friendship and sexual attraction. But M casually brought up that he was trying to get with a girl he knows IRL, and how jealous I got really surprised me. I was encouraging about it, but I did some soul-searching and realized that what I thought was just sexual interest was actually deeper feelings for him.

M's attempt to date this girl were pretty short-lived as she more or less led him on and then ghosted him (karma?), so now I'm left to think about what to do next. He's given the impression he's pretty stressed and busy because of school, and he's not as responsive to my messages as he used to be, which leads me to naturally overthink "oh my god, he must hate me forever".

Thus, I'm concerned I WBTA and be putting him on the spot if I admitted to him "hey, I still have a big crush on you". If I asked him on a date again if I vacation to Italy, I'd want to make it clear that even if I do have feelings for him, I'd be okay with just a brief vacation fling, but that still changes the context of a lot of our relationship. Also, he sort of already rejected me on the basis of "we're an ocean away"; does it make me an asshole if I try again with different conditions?

What are these acronyms?

[shaunashipman]

Being 100% serious, I was a hardcore b.ddie shipper before bucktommy happened. I was all in on the theories, the slow burn of it all, etc. I loved them. And when bucktommy first happened I was ready to dive in with multishipping bx to me that's just. What you do. When there are two/more ships that you like. You ship both. You ship all of them together. It's like playing with dolls, yknow?

But then the toxicity started. And fortunately I have amazing mutuals so I didn't see the worst of it until I went into the tags. And I am being so completely serious when I say that watching the toxic b.ddie stans rip bucktommy apart, harass the actors, harass Tim Minear, going out of their way to be the most aggressive, annoying people in fandom. It killed my enjoyment of the ship.

I dont ship b.ddie anymore because of the way these people have behaved. Because of the way that side of fandom has been overtaken by bitterness and hate and thinly veiled homophobia. I cannot find enjoyment in that ship anymore because of the way people have turned it into the new destiel.

Tim likes writing the buck/Eddie friendship, and I love seeing it on screen, but it would not surprise me in the LEAST if the stans cause another cast separation like the destiel fans did. (Iydk: destiel fans harassed the actors to such an extent that they actually severed ties irl; for years, they refused to do con panels together or pr together bx the fans were so obsessive that they actually sparked rumours about the ACTORS cheating on their respective wives* with each other.)

(*Do I think it'll go that far here? I hope not, but given that people are shipping Ryan and Oliver already, it wouldn't surprise me if they did.)

Sorry this got long. I dont normally just drop into ppls asks to whine like this but I just have to say it to someone who isn't going to crucify me for not shipping b.ddie anymore. Maybe if the fans calm tf down I'll go back but for now... b.ddie to me are platonic soulmates. That's all it's gonna be to me.

I hope your day is going better than mine.

I'm always good with rants in my inbox so long as ppl are respectful 🫶

I'm really sorry the other stans have ruined your enjoyment of the ship, that is one of the worst feelings in fandom. I too used to ship buddie, as a purely fanon ship, but now I don't even want to read fics, and seeing gifs of them gives me such a visceral no response, which sucks because a lot of the gifsets are gorgeous and as a fellow gifmaker I know how much effort goes into them

I do hope things will calm down and you can enjoy it again; unfortunately I fear if bucktommy are still together at the end of the season 🤞 and there isn't a clear shutdown on buddie from TPTB, that it's only going to get worse over the hiatus

in the meantime

[killercooksblog]

An email has been sent in relation to the brownie challenge. Inside is a link to a video.

Baking Mama: KillerCook Baking Challenge!

Hey It's me! Mama Sheath! I'm here today with IRL Blorbo (depicted as Kaku as per his request to keep his image off the internet). Today we are participating in Killer's Secret Brownie Baking Challenge! For those who don't know the rules, the challenge is to make brownies with a secret ingredient—not THAT kind of ingredient—and describe them for others to guess what your secret ingredient is.

I'll be honest, I went SUPER unconventional for these with a lot of the ingredients, but the one in particular I will not mention is the aim. My inspiration came from my nephew being a fussy eater, and things that can be done to make even desserts more healthy while still being delicious!

So for the process of this recipe, some items got blended together to make it easier to combine, mostly all of the wet ingredients. Chocolate chips were added and blended as well. I was not surprised by the color given the secret ingredient. IRL Blorbo wasn't either, but he expected it to be darker.

I used greek yogurt, maple syrup and honey (I ran out of maple syrup and needed it to be a little sweeter and straight sugar would have been too much), vanilla bean paste, eggs, and the secret ingredient.

Once it was mixed in with the dry ingredients, though, most of the color went to what you would expect brownies to be.

The dry ingredients included oat flour, cocoa powder, Semi sweet chocolate chips, baking powder and a little salt. Everything was then poured into some baking pans and baked 350°F for 40 minutes.

YAY! IT'S READY!

I was was not all that surprised with how dense and moist they came out, and they are very much on the rich side. The texture is almost a cross between a souffle and a brownie. I was surprised there was no earthiness to it, and it just tastes like the most decedent brownie you've ever had in your life!

So of course I made ice cream to go with it.

May or may not still be in a food coma.

When I asked IRL Blorbo his thoughts, he was not helpful as he answered with full cheeks: "Tastes like brownie." I then asked him what the texture was like, and he answered, again, with "Brownie"

It's a damn good thing he's cute, because he was NO HELP!

I do feel once baked, the color was a little almost purpley looking, which surprised me, and it really does just taste like brownie, so I can't be that mad at IRL Blorbo.

Well with that, I wish you luck on guessing my ingredient. I will leave a hint as I play myself out!

"Shout Your Lungs Out" (Will redirect to Spotify)

Thank you to Mama and Kaku for the submission. Loved the detail for plating, and your story! I was stumped on this one for DAYS. My final guess, is BEETS. If that's the case, I'm simply amazed at how you took so many routes to make a truly authentic, and overall healthier, dessert for your nephew!

Also, is your blorbo just Kid? Because he is just as unhelpful!! jkjk...but also 🔪 as a warning

@yamiyamiart for the Gordon Ramsay slay