#wouldn't suggest cram reading if you don't have to do it!

[capslocked]

KINKVEMBER DAY: 6

[prompt: blowjob]

male reader x hyeju

12k words

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone who actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

-

The first time you hook up with your roommate, it’s because of genetics - though not in the weird, uncontrollable way your body gets rigid and sensitive to any pretty girl who wears nothing but a towel moving between her bedroom and the bathroom, or how her eyes might flick fast from your chest up to yours - or given that the absolute shape of her is a blessing from one god or another (benevolent, clearly). That's not why Hyeju and you find yourselves only a few months later grinding on each other after the clock ticked past midnight, making out on New Year's Eve.

No, it has to do with the fact that Hyeju's nearly failing the nine AM section of molecular genetics because she's spent every lecture doodling stars and planets and planets shaped like asscheeks and planet-ass constellations while everyone else writes notes or doom scrolls twitter or whatever and she is somehow simultaneously the only student who never slept with her face on the lab desk or missed an assigned reading and the only one who absolutely needs a tutor.

It's just cosmic odds that you'd be that one: her roommate, who shouldn't be talking so loudly in the library about sex (in a sort of non-sexy, Mendelian kind of way) or be thinking the kind of things you've started thinking when Hyeju wears one of her more sleepshirt-esque long sleeves, her voice getting lower as you rattle off, "fruit flies and thale cress, definitely, it's just an error of fate or chromosome splitting..." before trailing off into a question.

"This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me," she finally tells you. You listen to her sigh into the binding of her textbook, facedown. "I'm really going to bomb this exam."

You tap her hand twice with your highlighter across the desk. "Then you're pretty damn lucky, if you think about it."

She turns to you, smiles a bit. "Okay, point. The worst thing will be having to retake this stupid fucking class."

"Why didn't you ask for help or go to office hours if you knew you were... failing?"

"Maybe because doing anything more than the bare minimum to get through a class I don't care about is my definition of, failing," she mumbles. "Why didn't anyone tell me a single lab is worth half my grade? Or that the TA is this fucking unreliable? How is this the one thing, really, beyond the basics, that can't be taught by wikipedia, a wikihow article and a youtube video?"

You scoot your seat closer to her. "You really need to relax."

"Fucking tell me about it."

You turn it over in your mind a few times, capping the top of your highlighter.

"Want me to get you off?"

And it’s not like you really mean it, when you say it, which is the strangest thing: you wouldn't actually suggest it, normally, wouldn't mention it in passing and then leave yourself open to the follow up and cross examination; yet there it is, after three, four hours of cramming notes on heterochronicity and the sloshing of gametes - you actually did propose it.

Hyeju jerks up, surprised.

"Are you serious?" She looks around, nearly snorting. "In the library?"

The face you’re giving her makes her scoff.

“You’re absolutely nuts.”

You have character flaws; the inability to admit wrongdoing chief among them. Hell, maybe it's from your mother - or maybe all your brains are just scrambled by the fact that Hyeju's sitting there with her pen against her pretty lips, hair glossier than usual as she scans your face and makes your entire body feel like a reactor core in meltdown.

Maybe you can blame what comes next on that.

"I'm always serious. I'm asking a serious question," you whisper, closing the textbook and resting your elbows on top. You look around quickly, like you're sneaking something in instead of this perfectly reasonable exchange, the perfectly platonic - except maybe not so much - way for friends to help each other.

"And I'm wondering what you're asking." Her cheeks are definitely pinker, you think, or the way it fills out her face, from the bottom up, is just that easy to imagine.

“I’m saying you haven’t gotten laid in months.” Here, you realize, these blocks of mental logic that definitely weren’t there when you blurted it out start to coalesce into something solid as you go on.

And you hadn't been wrong when you thought no one had given Hyeju a helping hand in a long, long time: you've heard through the walls or the floorboards at odd hours of the morning that she spends far too long fingering herself to a mind-numbing, tear-worthy frustration that leaves her knuckle-deep but never, ever sated or satisfied.

"No one's around, you'll feel better. You said it yourself."

Not a work of your imagination here - her ears are fucking burning.

"Wait a minute." She pushes her chair back, away from you and your gleaming offer. It clatters on its back legs, and a librarian waves her finger in warning. You wave back, sheepishly, until she stops and Hyeju stands and moves away from the table to talk, hands crossed over her front.

She turns and asks in a hushed-down-voice, "how did you know - did you hear something last night?"

"You couldn't keep it down even if you wanted to, honestly."

Hyeju turns further and throws a glare at the library doors, because obviously her noisiness and their collective noisemanship, or whatever the hell the word is, is clearly the root of the whole goddamn problem.

"Look - if not, no big deal - but I'm just saying you'll probably get over it and at least think less about sex. Or at least the wrong kind of sex."

You expect her to turn, sigh, and ask if you've lost your mind. Expect her to gather her jacket from the back of her chair, take her books and stomp out the room. Or even burst out laughing at the insanity, before slapping your arm lightly, in playful retaliation - anything other than the serious look she gives you in return, tilting her head, pressing her lips.

She turns up at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating something. And it's cute. It's so very, very cute, how her mouth pouts as she considers the possibility, right up until she says, "okay, fine."

The moderate twist of surprise taking hold in your brow must be visible.

"Oh, don't tell me that was all talk. Get me thinking about the right kind of sex or whatever."

You laugh, which has the librarian staring at both of you - until the librarian stops staring and probably sees Hyeju sliding back into her chair, the full, pent-up weight of her concentration pointed your way, knees inching apart - you, and Hyeju waiting, your knee bumping into her inner thigh, leaning closer as the textbook hits the floor.

"Don't laugh."

"Not laughing, seriously. Not laughing," you stammer. “I just think you’re just full of surprises.”

She spreads her knees further and sits taller, looking right at you.

"So then, surprise me," and then presses her cheek to the crook of your elbow.

You slide your chair right into the space next to hers, nuzzling up into the space under her ear. “Keep studying, Hyeju, you’ve got shit to do.” And then you slide your hand beneath the waist of her sweats, knead the swell of her thigh until you find the seam where her leg meets her body, press your palm down on the place just next to her center, your thumb in the middle. All this perfect pressure.

"Fuck," Hyeju says under a shudder. She's breathing heavier when your hot, open-mouthed kisses start landing at her neck, and she probably tries to read her textbook for about forty-five seconds longer. But there's the clench of her jaw right as your middle finger begins tracing circles beneath the fabric of her panties, and her gaze is blurring until she can't tell the difference between an allele or your fucking name.

"Shh-shh," you quiet her, finger tapping harder, playing with the slick wetness beneath all those layers of thick cotton and pressing two fingers there until her knees part like they’re not interested in resisting at all. Your lips press a kiss to the shell of her ear and she tenses all at once, hand shooting up to cover her mouth.

She simply leans back, closes her eyes, and lets you take care of her.

“Okay, you’re right,” she says, shaky and uneven, “that really did take some of the edge off. Did we ever review - poly- uh, pol-polymers here?"

The sweatshirt sleeve falling off your shoulder is a hindrance to any actual reading; her shifting against the chair isn't helping either, but you manage to push down the thoughts of stripping her down completely and giving her your tongue as yet another distraction.

"What did the syllabus say? I don't know if we need to read too far on 'polymers'," you say, having going through an entire afternoon without considering this once, but as you curl your fingers and take an honest crack at cramming the remaining chapters into her head, the knowledge that no one else is getting her this wet - except for whoever she's got in her mind's eye at three AM - is enough to get you feeling a little dizzy.

-

It’s probably supposed to be weird, given that you’ve never gotten any of your other friends off spontaneously in the library, or there's the fact that you can't really avoid each other afterwards, how she shows up in a silk negligee when you're pouring coffee before sunrise to prep for another day and you have the opportunity to notice - yes, she has amazing taste in underwear, yes, you might not have really appreciated her chest and figure enough before - yes, fuck it. She catches you noticing that first time, after coming downstairs with nothing but one of her cropped t-shirts and her board shorts, and she smirks when she realizes you're still thinking about it that afternoon, when her foot grazes yours while you're both washing dishes, and she dries the plate in her hand with a slow swipe.

And it is weird, actually, to describe what’s going on between you in words. 

A few words, anyway, like a one-word label to describe what it was: friends or roommates-with-benefits, or - fuck buddies - god, it's even worse. Fuck buddies? Fuck friends? Something equally terrible and stupid that still makes sense, like something out of a shitty rom-com: it doesn't capture any of the rest of the myriad ways in which things can feel less or less friendly between two people.

So, friends was never, ever going to cut it. Roommates - although technically correct - is just this side of too clinical. And let's be clear: strangers don't wake up every morning together, walk to the same class, sit close together in the middle seats, secretly flick a strangers' skirt up in an empty lecture hall and get on their knees and work your mouth onto her pussy and watch the legs of the desks shake when her feet arch into the floor.

"The notes you've got are better than mine," is how Hyeju tries to put things, the next day and every time after that, standing in the doorframe, or at the foot of your bed and looking every bit the disheveled and hopeless mess you imagine she might spread out over the sheets of her own.

-

It gets complicated, which isn't really a surprise.

"You think your roommate is going to be home tonight?" is the question that comes up multiple times - from a revolving door of pretty names and faces. Hyeju has at least one opinion, if not more, on each of them.

"Tell Jinsoul I say hi," she says once, watching you get ready for a date, and you nearly bang your knee on the edge of the bathroom vanity. 

It's one of the more harmless comments she's offered.

Another, backhanded: "if you’re just looking for a blowjob everyday between lunch and our physics lab, let Hyunjin or Heejin or whatever-her-name-is know she's easily my favorite," Hyeju says on your way out one morning, still under her covers.

Or,

Hyeju's texted a simple "uh, Chuu? really??" when you mention, once, how much fun you've been having - and what kind, as you make a round of self-conscious and rambling phone calls the next day that land you with only one prospect for the night - but your roommate's also no longer being your roommate by the end of it, bouncing against your thighs in the bathtub and moaning something about please more and fuck or fucking make me cum; the details escape you a bit.

That's what friends are for, probably.

Still, in the same, bare-bones explanation, friends also aren't for falling asleep on you - or letting you hold her - or fucking you awake in the middle of the night. Friends aren't for pushing down your jeans when the early-morning dew settles on the back patio, or jerking you off in the seat beside yours with a sweatshirt over your lap when a group project is due later and you all should probably work on that and instead get yourselves off and leave the mess of what you're doing half-finished. Friends aren't, probably, for offering to watch you rub your palm up and down your cock the night before next semester's exams when you can barely sit in a single chair and you can't think about molecular biology or neurochemical transcriptions when your whole body aches to do the transcribing. (If you can catch that drift.)

The lists of who are and are not good enough for you goes on and on - the latter longer than the former.

So, there's Choerry, who according to Hyeju is 'straight up, a total slut'. Yeojin, who gets mistaken for your little sister enough times that Hyeju refuses to - in good faith - let you keep sleeping with her. Both Heejin and Gowon are apparently too pretty for you. "Kim-lip?" she asks, in the middle of peeling garlic, "is that one name or two?" And laughs into a bottle of beer, loud, while you're telling her to quit being nosey and watch her fingers with the damn knife.

"You have a problem."

"Why, because I asked a few simple questions? I think anyone would be a little curious with the -" she pauses to wave her fingers - "I'd be remiss to not be interested in the very drama that unfolds literally across the hall."

She waggles her eyebrows.

You look up at the ceiling. God save you, you think. "Hyeju."

("Seriously," Hyeju chimes in one evening, arms around you, and a mouthful of the dinner you'd cooked.

"You need better taste in girls. Don't waste time on anyone too dumb, or who drinks the milk straight from the carton, or doesn't wash her socks with the same load of laundry. Oh, and - no one who chews loudly. No one who can't tell you're going to cum. The worst is someone who doesn't know what you like, trust me on that. And remember the last rule: don't do anything with someone who eats at a really slow pace, it's incredibly depressing."

You rest your chin on her shoulder from the spot behind her. "Duly noted, oh Master of all Knowledge."

She sighs into your arm, but in the next moment, her voice gets a lot softer, her hips fidgeting slightly against you. "I just mean you're the kind of person people would want to sleep with again," she says, before turning to say your name and kiss you again and again as your bodies curl inward.

"I wonder what that means, Hyeju," you say.

"Fuck," Hyeju groans as you slide further into her, pushing her back into the sofa - hands on her shoulders, legs bent on her either side, "don't tease me like this.")

-

The first snowfall of the year is mild, a tiny dusting, nothing that sticks on the pavement in the alley or on the sidewalks - or the lintels - or in Hyeju's hair, but by evening, when the snow picks up and everything goes quiet, Hyeju has changed into flannels and wool socks in anticipation, curled up like a cat at one edge of the window ledge as the world begins to go white. It's enough that you even pull on a thicker sweatshirt, open up a book, and join her.

She turns toward you, quiet.

You've reached a point in the semester where this, the silence, doesn't unsettle you anymore. It's the space you fill up with time in-between, where you can see the contours of her body against the orange lamplight of the space heater, or watch her kick off the top half of the duvet at night as you fight over space in her bed and wonder about the bare skin peeking out from her shorts.

"Feeling bored?" She slides her foot a little closer to yours, almost imperceptibly. "Am I keeping you entertained enough?"

Her lips pull up at the corner. You chuckle.

"Oh, no."

She scoffs and puts her hands on her knees, pushes herself closer to the window sill and bumps her elbow into your shoulder. The bare skin of her neck and shoulders and face is getting a little redder as she cranes it forward. "Okay, if not, do you need someone to entertain you, maybe."

Your mouth twists, fighting a smile.

Hyeju is so close to you, you could kiss her really, really easily and not care how she'd feel about that. It's not a habit, not as often as it used to be, but every once and a while - she starts this game. Every once in a while, Hyeju just starts smiling like that, and leans into you like she's daring you to play along, hard round of chicken until it's clear what the two of you are doing with each other; the minutes pass by, one, then two, and then - maybe she pushes first, her leg on yours, or a kiss to your jaw or a palm on your back as she walks behind you - and then you'd turn and kiss her full on the mouth and pull at her clothes like nothing's holding you back.

She cocks a smile, and says, "why don't you go and call what's her name."

"Because."

You glance out at the cold, gray light outside. If you had a better understanding of any of the workings inside you, you could reach forward and tell her everything that's stopped you.

-

You're supposed to meet the girl-of-the-month at a New Year's party. Hyeju looks disgusted within the first ten seconds of the whole story.

"Heejin dumped you once, like, two months ago? For no reason."

"It wasn't a break-up. We talked about what we did wrong and we're doing better," you say, lifting one finger.

She glares, then, tilts her lips into this unamused purse that you can't take seriously at all when she starts walking back and forth across your living room, hands moving emphatically to the sides as she speaks, like she's in the process of unveiling a brilliant argument and is using both palms to guide your eyes toward the unquestionable logic. "God, you're the worst. You're just her easy fuck and you'll still answer her late night calls, really."

She leaves the rest unsaid - that she's just not that into you.

"I don't tell you which boys or girls you can call up," you try, putting on a boot. "If you'd like, I can. Name off the list, and make sure that the right name leaves my mouth this time."

Hyeju doesn't blush when you glance up, which is the surprising thing. No - her cheeks have grown a little more sullen, and she stares down at her socks in contemplation. You're in the middle of fastening up the lace and getting to your feet, waiting, wondering if Hyeju's going to continue this conversation, when Hyeju takes one small step forward.

And her hand goes out to touch your chin, thumb at your lip, fingers holding it in place - like you'll turn if she lets it go - the sharp shock of the sensation like a short circuit, before her knee comes between yours, and your body tingles, at the root and stem. "Hey," she says, eyes meeting yours. The edge of her nail flicking gently as she drags the curve of her thumb downward.

"Hyeju, please - I need to get going."

When you start walking toward your car, she calls out from the window. Something about how you better have the time of your life, fun for the two of you - it’s only fair.

(You feel, somewhere, a certain strange loss.)

"What, are you going to stay up and wait until I come back? Or am I interrupting your session for the night."

You can barely make it out, the smallest look passing over her face. "Maybe," she says, and then: "god, it's fucking cold."

-

New year's parties have this sort of quality of being simultaneously the most thrilling, exciting prospect on earth and the absolute worst fucking event in the history of the planet - depending on the venue, how egregious the racket is for a gin and tonic, the guests - oh, and the company.

Jinsoul and Choerry are both in attendance; in separate corners and in equal states of undress and intoxication, which seems fine by every present party, who are for the most part busy ogling one or the other in the full spirit of the New Year - as you would too, if the stars are aligned and Heejin hasn't already gone upstairs with half the guestlist, her arm wound with someone else's, as per her recent habit; if you haven't been tossed aside for any of the usual, less forgettable prospects and for something bigger, better and certainly much more enjoyable.

Which, if there were any way to track these things down with math, you'd already be reaching for your pen and notebook, as Hyeju would describe this sensation in a phrase she picked up from some podcast. Inevitable means necessary, or something.

"Good party," says Heejin, throwing back another drink.

"Yep. You said that," and you finish yours in one long draw, hissing through your teeth.

Heejin is a goddamn delight, of course, in all the simplest of ways. When she looks up at you - mouth pink, hair framing her face - she is so clearly and completely aware of what she is, and exactly what the world has in store for her, what it has set aside.

"Do you want to know what happened at the other New Year’s party we went to last year?"

"I - yeah. Hit me. Tell me all about (another date you were on) Heejin, that’s exactly what I’d love, let’s hear it."

She throws her head back and laughs, before starting into an overlong recount of her latest, greatest conquest, you on the outside. This is the thing - this is how a pretty face, with just a hint of a flirt, will make you feel for a beautiful, attractive, vivacious - absolutely shameless, raving sex-crazed lunatic of sorts who, apparently, loves to run around town and make a bunch of your closest friends fall in love and heartbroke-er, with every passing notion of her beauty, her charm - just the tilt of her chin, and some poor fucker is lost, absolutely lost.

 Even she knows it's a bad habit of hers. 

But who doesn't have a weakness? You've got plenty of your own - plenty, Heejin can admit - everyone does, in a way, and so Heejin, the other sloppy drunks milling about the party, and Choerry and Jinsoul all agree - someone like her just happens to have the best kind of weakness - so, so many of them, in fact:

"Can you believe how easily a few words get Jinsoul riled up? Or how it only takes a couple drinks for Choerry to pull up the hem of her skirt, not knowing the effect that'll have?"

And as for the last, and arguably worst kind -

"Hyeju, huh? What a great start to the New Year," is her final word. Heejin reaches across and downs your drink. Her expression turns just shy of grave, a pensive look. "Not your smartest idea, the living-together situation. Who in their right mind would put themselves in such a mess?"

"Thanks for the great advice." You wave her off, irritated.

There's another laugh before Heejin leans her face onto the table.

"Though maybe she's onto something, now that I think of it. Who needs anyone for the New Year?" and it's almost convincing the way her mouth, lined up with the rim of the glass, smirks when she drinks. "Mm. All a matter of taste."

-

The snow is halfway up your calves when you realize you need to find a cab at 11:30 PM on New Year's Eve. (Which, categorically, is the worst time to need to find a cab on New Year’s Eve.)

Or just:

11:36 PM and the nearest bus stop is too far away.

11:41 and the temperature feels like its dropped by fifteen degrees, like you should start wondering what hypothermia symptoms look like and what signs to look out for in yourself, your future wife and your children. You try not to think about why, but you get your phone out and immediately call Hyeju, so you're not sure what you think you're denying.

"No party?" she asks. Her voice is distant and sleep-ridden, but Hyeju's quick to pick up, like always.

"It sucked, I'm trying to find a way home early. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year." There's a long pause, filled in by the squeak of snow beneath your boots. "Get a kiss?"

"Uh, not yet. In the market, I guess."

Hyeju's low hum isn't reassuring, either. "Well, you're kind of missing your window. Bad time to start looking."

"Says you, and here you are - still up for someone to spend the night with. Look at you," you respond, all this snark in your voice that she clearly hears. There's a long sigh.

"Actually," and Hyeju, much to the confusion of you and possibly the whole world, doesn't respond, and for a few seconds, the line goes completely silent, leaving you hanging.

She breathes once and comes out of her sleep with a yawn.

"I actually," she begins. There's a lot less preamble this time - this tone - and when she speaks again it comes through not nearly as sleepy, "was sorta wondering. Are you on your way home?"

"If I don't freeze to death, yeah."

"Yeah - no, yeah," and that's it. That's the sum total of what makes any difference between where you were a moment ago, and where you are right now, head spinning, fingers buzzing. Hyeju waits and there's the wind on the line, snow settling on your hat and in the corners of your face.

"I - sorry. I probably woke you up. Are you expecting someone else," you say, very small. Your foot drags behind the other. The cars whizz by you faster, passing.

"Hm. You're the only one, I guess," and after that - just static and the muffled sounds of her footsteps on creaky floorboards - or the tick of her ceiling fan? You can't make heads or tails of the rest of the background noise. All those words she said.

You bite your tongue to stop whatever curse words start pouring out from the jumble and cross streets, or the pedestrian underpass; snow gets stuck in your lashes and burns, but your chest is like a molten furnace. You consider telling her right there on the line, everything you're feeling - so hot, it feels like fire, Hyeju, I'm not used to getting heated and desperate and impatient - that even if you're not here now - just imagining your face - the sound of your breathing, it feels like I'm on the cusp.

"Yeah. Sure - good - okay, Hyeju."

"I guess, see you soon?"

"In a bit."

(It takes 33 minutes, trudging through cold and wet. It's all very dramatic, you think, and there's no one there to even watch you suffer for it, or - though you try not to think about that particular line - really, no one at all.)

-

You hear the way your key grinds in the lock - it's been like this, jammed since summer, when you pushed the front door in late at night a little too hard and something came undone and made a sound like a small stone tumbling down the world's deepest well. The hinge squeaks, and there's ice on the stoop, on the doormat, on every nook and corner you can see, all the way up your neck.

And your face, too. You shake off your hat, undo the buttons on your jacket, and pull off your boots before hanging them and all the layers to dry.

You can make out the outline of her profile at the edge of the door frame, right in the kitchen - barefoot, hip pressed against the island, pajamas - the dim lights illuminating the shadow of her head, hair over her face -

- but you don't pause. The next layer. There's nothing left to say. You're too cold for excuses, too smart to use the same ones you'd been taught, like: this is a normal, acceptable circumstance; everything, anything, will be perfectly normal if the two of us act as though that's the case; pretend we're both acting within the norms of reason, within our senses and logical thinking and I won't make myself go out in the cold a second more - won't stand for more than five minutes with your eyes looking like they're waiting.

So you move instead toward the kitchen, where the heating is better and she's already pouring coffee. There's a heat radiating out of the oven, and it smells sweet in there, like cinnamon and warm butter, and you wish you weren't still shaking, blood barely thawed, but there it is - her face, watching you - eyes gleaming as you wrap your hands around a mug, steam rising up - a shiver running up your arms; her knees skirting yours when she takes one step back and there's the cabinet door shut, then open again, and then a palm on your back.

Hyeju presses a cup of the fresh coffee, now warm enough to drink, to your chest, and says, softly. "What the fuck happened out there?"

She starts reaching out to wipe the frost and slush from your face. You let her hand hold you still, eyes wide.

"Oh you know," and her palm stays, even though it's obviously - suddenly - gotten warmer, and wetter too, and the longer she stands there and lets her fingers warm the pale bones of your cheeks, her wrist, the base of your forehead and ears, the more expectant the look on her face grows. "The usual."

Her eyes go as narrow as they ever can. For just a moment. "You're gonna die a slow, pathetic death someday, just for the record."

"Don't forget how this starts," you try, and feel your neck go warm, throat and breath tight. And not even when her shoulders shift, her mouth going smug - just looking at you.

“I mean, don’t you think,” Hyeju says, wagging a finger at you, “that when you suffer through a bad date, the world ought to owe you something?”

"Like what?" you ask.

"Better taste in women - maybe more orgasms; I dunno, a blowjob?" She shrugs. "The general idea is just that someone gets to cum."

You nearly choke on the air in front of you. "Jesus, Hyeju, warn a guy."

“What? I’m trying to commiserate with you,” Hyeju laughs. “Wouldn’t that be funny? Being able to kiss someone you actually, you know, might love you back, and at the same time. Imagine not hooking-up just to forget a shitty day. Sounds wild, right?"

"Utterly deranged."

"So wild."

When Hyeju sighs and gives a long, nonchalant hum, leaning her body closer, pressing up until her waist hits the cabinet top and you're pressed together chest-to-chest, she looks at you and her hips settle, the heel of her foot reaching around your calf.

There's that tingle. Again and again. You're not even trying to not think about what it might mean.

But then, you start, silently and unconsciously, trying to answer the question: why don't you, maybe. Why don't you, actually - Hyeju kisses you, pulls on the loop of your jeans and lets your lips brush the corners of hers and pulls away, suddenly, mumbling and head-turning. And just as abruptly, your nose buries in the space between her neck and her shoulder, where it's all warm. And when she puts her palms on your hips and squeezes and twists her knuckles into the fabric there, it seems she wants your hands up her shirt and under the small of her back.

And her hands - they're fidgety tonight, fingers curled up to keep their nails and the chill away, moving lower - one on your ass, while the other comes forward and begins rubbing circles, a handful of times - enough so you're letting a deep, low breath escape into the space just above her collar, your knee working its way between hers.

"That," Hyeju breathes, lips at your ear, hand reaching down to trace the hard curve of your cock pressing in the spot right between you, and there's that small rush again, familiar now, like you've caught a rhythm and she wants to feel it in its fullness: "is how you can make it up to me. For making me stay up. Worrying about you, god knows why. Waiting."

You're still half-frozen in a way, slowly thawing. "Hyeju, I've been trudging through the consequences of my actions this entire night. What am I about to suffer through now?"

"It's no consequence, honestly."

You squint.

"Just an idea, but," she breathes again; your bodies getting closer, and looking up at you, she grins and reaches down to touch the very root of you, her fingers drumming. You make a sound, and at that she says, her voice coming out thick, low:

"Want me to get you off?"

She squeezes again for good measure, just to be clear. Just a slight curl of fingers that's enough to send a flash of heat and the transient thought: why, why, why is she always wearing those fucking shorts, even in the winter?

Your blood thrums through the pulse at the end of your cock. You shake.

"Alright," is the response you let out.

And at that, Hyeju takes your wrist and leads you upstairs.

"There's that look. Don't worry. We'll find a way," is all she says as your feet walk forward, up step-by-step and higher and further up to her room. "After all, isn't that what we've always done?"

"It's usually whatever will make me stop talking."

Hyeju puts her chin on your shoulder. Her eyes follow the lines and shapes in the patterns of wallpaper as you turn onto her side of the apartment, and even through the wall and behind the doorway, her arm still around you, she pulls at your chin until your faces turn and you both can share each other's heat.

"Who, you and your awful habit of talking out-loud in your head while you work through equations?" and she brings her lips to yours, close and warm.

"Hey. Fuck you," and your voice breaks into an odd, low laughter when she kisses you harder.

"Yeah, I know," she whispers as her hand dives past the band of your boxers, palm sliding easily until she's gripping you fully and letting her fingers rub. She holds you there, in her room, her arm looped through yours, another arm resting at your belly.

And she stops there. She stays like that: holding your gaze.

"Look, Hyeju," you say, unable to not, though this can hardly count for anything; this, what you're about to admit, is nothing new. You swallow. "The thing is - you shouldn't."

"Don't want me to touch you?" she says, finger to your lips.

"Well, that's different. Maybe. Is there - maybe it's not the best thing to ask you right now."

Hyeju considers for a brief moment and tuts under her breath. "Can you at least do me the decency of waiting until I'm done wringing you dry before you say shit like that."

And she moves then, toward the bed.

So:

No. Yes. Maybe. Who knows, you tell yourself. Maybe, but only because you'll do anything if it makes you feel less sick, like a creature standing over its own skeleton - an abandoned shell; a relic, something to be feared and disgusted, as you let her go between your thighs, kneel beside the bed.

"I mean - since when - have you felt," is just as far as you're allowed to go before Hyeju presses her nose into you and pulls you out of the thin, cold fabric - palm, thumb, all those slender fingers swiping over your head - and now there's just the smell of her room and the shock, the buzz that runs down your spine and settles somewhere, somewhere inside the small and desperate movement of your hips and the tension building just below.

And god, fuck, Hyeju’s lips.

These soft, wet, pouty fucking things that could suck you straight off if you were feeling any less stupid or inexperienced or sentimental - if she wasn't solely intent on teasing it out of you first; a slow drag of the tongue up the underside; the tip of it poking, tracing the rim, like she's figured you out, just where to lead you. She's ready to smoke you out - always - until you're not taking in a breath every ten seconds but starting to close your eyes to the overwhelming, needling pleasure, too sharp, the way she knows you like best.

"Now you're finally - mm - starting to sound hot," and that smirk comes back to the corner of her mouth, teasing the sensitive belly of your cock and tracing her tongue everywhere. "With the voice and -"

You're losing track, her thumb and fingers circling the whole length of you - just, one after the other - mouth a hair-breadth away, her breath hovering like a promise.

"- that face."

"Don't, fucking tease me-"

The sound of your cock going in is like nothing else.

Wet and filthy in all the right ways.

Just the suction in her throat has your eyes nearly roll back into your head - Hyeju's gaze calmly watching the terrible sort of helplessness that washes over you like this: her lips wrapped around, bobbing - her hair falling into the wet mess of her mouth and sticking there. Hyeju likes being a little sloppy, likes feeling that spark run up the length of her tongue when she slides. It's the wet and the heat that gives everything away.

"I don't have much of a choice -" her jaw and chin is smudged when she pulls back off of your cock, mouth glossy and glistening, "and honestly, wouldn't it be a better use of our time, or my talents if I actually do that thing?"

“Which is?”

She looks up for a bit and sighs, the flush blooming pink to the tip of her ears and into the rounds of her cheeks and all across her neck. "Since, as far as I can see, what you really like - is, oh I'm just spit-balling here," and she stops just to bite her tongue and look into your eyes, "it's letting the girls take care of you? Isn't that right?"

You want to tell her, no, not always, that it's not as though you enjoy giving control completely - that that would be completely and unarguably, the opposite of true -

That most of the time you love it when the person you're with is a little bossy, a little crazy for you. You know some guys really get off on a strong woman and maybe, maybe if a girl's pretty and dressed up, and - sure - a little wet, but that's hardly -

“You know I’m right,” she says, a flicker of mischief skittering across her features. “These walls are paper thin.”

You want to tell her, perhaps remind her, that she likes someone in charge just as much as you do - to be taken care of, told what to do - to have a hand curled up around her throat and the other at her tits while a guy fucks her the right way and takes the reigns when she needs. So who are you, when it comes to knowing her better? And who, really, are you fooling?

But before you can get any words in: Hyeju dips, lips parting where the head of your cock throbs, and then disappears; and the hot wet warmth, enveloping all around your shaft and back; the curve of her throat contracting.

You moan - a lot, and louder this time - into the whole feeling. The way her fingers work the distance from the base, twisting and twisting and twisting into the pout of her lips; or how the sound is like nothing - a whimpering, messy sound - almost a whine and definitely not a slurp as your cock sinks further and further, until it's all one big, heavy throb.

And it's like Hyeju can read your thoughts, the visual you have of her lips screwed tight around your shaft - cum leaking from the corners, and her eyes scrunched up tight, as she looks up to watch your face unravel - this perfect image of her taking you, all of you, swallowing each drop as your hips start rutting up into her and - and - and.

Or else she gets impatient, because then Hyeju gives one long pull off the tip of your cock - saliva mixed in the precum there, and that shiny string of fluid hanging, caught in the middle between your bodies - a disgusting and irresistible sight. Her jaw slack, lips swollen and full, and her mouth gone wide open, wanting.

"Fuck - that's good. Don't stop," you start to whimper, desperate, at the sight, the smell. Her hot breath coming quick over the red wanting wetness left behind - then touched by the cold air - fuck -

She slaps your cock to the corner of her lips as she speaks.

"Can you believe what's going on down here?"

"God, can you -"

"And to think most guys wanna jump straight in. That or fuck a load out between my tits."

"Hyeju, shit, come on -"

She kisses the soft tip, right where it’s most sensitive, rolls it along her lip. Then, back down the length of your shaft where she's generous with her mouth inch after inch - lapping, licking, laving - and Hyeju begins working her way down and downward, nestling in at the edge of the bed and between your thighs.

Your eyes blow up the first time she dips low enough to put your balls in her mouth. 

“Mmhm,” she hums.

It’s killing you and she knows it; it’s killing you and she can feel the pre-cum leaking from your slit - the thumb she has moored there, keeping everything right where she wants it, running circles up the length with such little intention - she could bring you to the end just like this. 

"Am I supposed to believe it?” she asks out from beneath the shadow of your cock, looking up at you with her eyes all wide and brilliant - pupils dark as sin. “That not a single one of those girls ever did you proper?"

You curse under your breath. Hyeju seems amused, at least, like she can't help but love doing that to you, which is almost worse and honestly the sexiest thing a girl can be. You groan - wanton, raw and desperate and feeling exactly what she wants you to feel when her nails drag along the dip of your hip bones.

"Did they not leave you fucked-up the right way?"

Her wrist flicks out these twists and turns, making your spine bend to her control. Like even when you're sure to be bundling her hair in your fingers and fucking the whole length of your cock down her throat, all of this is the worst kind of power-trip for her - not the other way around.

Her tongue runs through the tangle of your balls, slowly, lasciviously, as though the plan is to memorize and map every detail. 

And the worst part is, how much it's making you desperate for the warmth of her mouth - where she'll run her tongue up and down and over and around and inside - before sucking you off nice and slow.

"Or maybe," she laughs; another flick to the top and then suddenly her hand goes faster and the fist pumping the rest of you tightens. "They left you so needy you're resorting to having the bestie suck you off so that you won't be desperate the next time you date. Oh my god-" 

Hyeju breaks into this fit of laughter, and you're nearly cross-eyed at the feeling of your entire existence - not just your cock - so wholly held within her mercy, and her pity, and you're breathing so shallow now you'd think this is the real reason people have died and will die - this exact moment where you're choking and stuttering at the edges, so very close to cumming and going absolutely bonkers with how good Hyeju is with her hands, her tongue, her mouth - everything - how much she's wrecking you, and your jaw drops, wide open, her name dripping like molasses off your lower lip.

"Are you going to cum?" she asks, curiously. All as if she can't see you nodding, collapsing under pressure, and then and there: "should we make it official?"

Her nose tickles the seam of your balls. And your toes begin to curl and uncurl - all this anticipatory, coiling pleasure burning from her throat, shooting from the pit of your stomach; the tightening spiral, twinging and stretching every nerve - as her lips enclose around the end of your cock, softly.

And oh, just excruciatingly slowly.

You watch the irresistible shape of her mouth travel down until her throat feels so incredibly, beautifully, and unbelievably tight, and then, just like that - Hyeju starts fucking herself onto you; pushing forward and down the full, rigid length of you, hard and fast - each time hitting deeper inside her - all that sticky, messy, wet squelching.

"Unh-unh, yeah. Unh. Mm-!" you say, or moan, or some animal version of that, maybe, it’s incoherent.

But regardless:

It's messy and your hands scramble for purchase in the sheets of her bed when you feel that snap, the tightening of a trigger; when your balls roll up and it builds, and builds, and it comes faster - harder and -

"Hyeju," you pant, and it sounds so, so filthy. "I'm gonna cum, if you - gonna cum-"

Hyeju pulls you free from her lips, quite possibly at the most final of final moments, to rub the base up and down, just right, between her fingers. Your cock is resting right on her cheek when it all happens. When she squeezes her fingers around your balls just enough to hear you wheeze and make a sound no sane man should have the right to. And fuck, you're cumming all over her face - or just one side of it - which is already just -

Okay, fuck.

She makes a startled sound and her fist closes tightly around your shaft when you pump another fresh load of white up onto her eyebrow.

"I'm, ah-shit," your mouth moves faster than the blood in your veins - and now the shame - oh god, the humiliation, it's pulsing right behind you. "Hyeju," you apologize.

Only, Hyeju has no interest in any of it. She doesn't seem offended or disappointed in proportion to how you're ruining her pretty face: "no, just do it, cum wherever you fucking like."

Which isn't what you're expecting at all, because Hyeju makes no effort to close her lips, let alone avoid any of it; nor is she making a fuss about the sticky mess in her hair, her mouth, nor as another stream of cum throbs from your cock, all tangled up in the long dark eyelashes that sweep down across her cheek.

It’s fucking filthy: you're cumming all over her and she's just kneeling there, telling you, "good boy."

See, she pushes through it, languidly - all those filthy sounds, and those watery little tears gathering at the edge of her eye and all of that, mixing up together until you're rolling your head back with your orgasm, shuddering, feeling weak - drained dry -

Except,

Hyeju's pushing a finger to your chest, kneeling up tall from the side of the bed. She turns her body toward the center of the bed and wipes a bit of the cum on her knuckles into the sheets. Here you feel like you've done something terrible or at least regrettable, like that last round at the bar when you have a test the next morning; a dick move, all of the sort that requires apology.

"You gotta give me a minute, if you're thinking about hopping on."

"Hmm. Sounds like a lot to ask."

"Wait," you grab her arm. Hyeju grins and there's nothing stopping the shake of your knees now, that weakness between your thighs: "let me get you a drink."

"Or."

"Or?"

Her tongue peeks out, running along her upper lip. Her eyes drop again, hands dipping below, beneath the hem of her shorts and oh. She slips a hand past her bra. The whole outline of it. And you -

"Mm, I could show you what that actually means." She lowers her chest, her breasts, and a lot of skin to the mattress while keeping your cock firmly in her hands. "That look tells me you wanna stick around a bit. Stay up past New Year’s, you know?"

You're almost unable to parse her words, there is so much to look at: the jutting curve of her chest, cleavage pressing into the mattress as her body settles between your knees. A soft chuckle; a sigh: "you are seriously the best lay, no-one else can get hard the minute after they just fucking exploded all over me-"

"Fuck, watch it," you hiss, because there's oversensitivity - and then there's Hyeju's mouth on the line of your cock, polishing you clean.

And it’s not that she isn’t trying to prove a point. Or that she's not trying to tease - that's an inherent quality of her character: a naturally dominant position with a high appetite for your lust. That much, Hyeju gets from you, whether you've got your head down between her thighs or the other way, too, so that her neck is arched around and her ass pushed up high in the air, legs open, and if she had any idea you would spend the next twenty minutes or more just going down on her, licking into her creaming cunt while two fingers work over her aching clit, then really, Hyeju would only encourage it - maybe get on top, force you to gag - and so you don't know where it comes from - how and why you want nothing more than to drive your fingers inside her and work her until she's a wet, squelching mess, not when this was always Hyeju's role of being the aggressor; and yes, sure, even the aggressed.

Surely not because you came so hard, still somewhat shivering with the remnants of a rather abrupt, painful, sudden and all-consuming orgasm.

"We're not doing anything else," she says, lips pulled up into a smirk right at the crown of your cockhead. But before you can respond she pushes a hot open kiss, and goes lower. She presses the flat of her tongue to the seam, just below the head. Licks a line right up to the tip and finishes with a tender flick that sends you fisting the bedspread in your fingers and leaning back as your mind begins to disintegrate -

"I'm not going to ride you yet, or going to get my hips in your hands so you can fuck my pussy real hard until I cry and pass out. Nothing of that sort is gonna happen." She licks one long drag of her tongue. Then, the other way. "I want to make this very clear: this isn't some huge favor - and if you want it - want it so bad, you can stay there and I'm going to do everything for you. We will get there - together," and with her voice shaking as she brings the wet, glistening skin of your cock just inside her mouth, she looks up. "We'll get each other off, just like this," and it's the deep, dark, throated moan that makes your thighs and all the nerves in between stiffen and buck when she swallows you again.

Hyeju's hands tug, pull her whole body closer still as it slowly bends, curves - her ass raised, her stomach lying on the bed. Her mouth takes you another few inches, until the tip of her nose is barely visible, but when she pauses to lick the cum still left over - the cum that's starting to leak out again - to breathe through it, then squeeze her palm and bob her mouth down, take another inch, until the sides are stuffed and emptying out again, that's when she finally has something to say: "got anything left? I'm a little starved."

"I. Christ, yes-" you whine, which doesn't help your case at all: the image, the image of you lying flat - back with Hyeju's head tucked between your knees, her hand pulling out your cock.

Sloppy, slimy-wet.

She presses an innocent, not-at-all-innocent kiss right to your tip, puckering - 

"You know what I did learn in that genetics class?" she muses, tongue flicking over her lips. Hyeju's about ready for a second helping - you're losing it. "When I first saw that DNA diagram - the double helix and all those little base pairs, and everything - it made me think of your cock. Your cock and me. Specifically our DNA. Did you know-"

She presses her palm over the head and rolls it - teases and strokes her palm - her knuckles - her fist - the whole nine. "When I hold your big fucking cock, mm, and just get it right - up in here, rubbing all along my walls - so deep, it gets me in my fucking ribs, makes me choke like I never been choked before, ah-mm," and it's this thought sliding toward the front of your mind, this perfect picture: Hyeju, getting fucked hard and open and stuffed full and stuffed good and stupid; you’ve got more than a few inches on her, can make her feel small and delicate; you know how to do her right.

But here you have Hyeju stroking the shaft - holding her hand tightly up near the head, rolling and twisting and sliding down and pushing her whole body right into the side of your legs: the soft, solid length, warm flesh and curves everywhere pressing into you.

You sit back, and just watch Hyeju with her eyes cool and composed, like half of her fucking face isn't streaked with your cum, mouth wrapped and looking fucking satisfied to be a total, gorgeous mess. She makes a dramatic display of kissing the tip again, just before telling you words you probably dreamt up at some point - either sleep deprived, or, during three AM jackoff, fantasizing. "Sometimes, just from riding your cock, I can't sit up straight."

"Fuck," and you feel your whole body run rigid, because apparently that's something you’ve been aching to hear.

You're covering her mouth again. White streaking onto her lips - where she's catching it in the well beneath her tongue and letting it spill out of the corner of her mouth. Into the crook of your thumb, which catches a drip here and there and rubs it down the length - down the curve - and pushes it back between Hyeju's pert little pout.

"Doesn't count, mister, just more pre-cum," she says, all with the audacity of a wink and smile; her words are a little garbled around the head of your cock between her teeth. And when you nod and realize just how painfully your jaw hurts, your throat becomes tight and raw, a knot pulling the underside from the center. Hyeju slides her lips lower, lower down, to the hilt and stays there, just like that - one hand holding down the flat of your belly to keep your hips still, her chin hanging - bobbing-as she feels every pulse, every twitching shift. You curl one hand around the side of her face, over the sharp edge of her jaw; rub a thumb into the delicate skin of her throat.

She shifts. You start to tell her what you like: how hot the rush comes when a girl puts her tongue against the slit at the very tip, and licks at the precum in nice, quick circles, soft and fluttering. And how her fingers shouldn't hesitate either, Hyeju's not even struggling to give it to you - god - just giving and -

She jerks her head up, swallowing down her next breath like it's one of her last. "I'm serious, if you're going to fuck a hole, start with my mouth - we can move onto everything else after."

"You're ridiculous -"

She meets her lips to your head, kissing once. Again. Kissing every inch, letting her mouth wrap around and then just - staying, just - staying like that and humming, with you, enjoying the fullness, the smell of you, the taste, the shape, just the weight and size and you.

There is spit fucking everywhere.

And if it's not clear what you're supposed to be doing - her fingers weave through yours, squeezing hard at the wrist and you can imagine: pulling her forward by her hair and holding her down while she chokes on your cock. "Fuck, Hyeju," you say, and your voice comes out way shakier than you'd like, "when, how did it get like this, huh? You always - always did, shit, always want your mouth filled."

"Never figured you to be someone who'd get turned on watching their friend sucking their cock like this."

"Doesn't everybody love the sight of their cock in a pretty girl's mouth?

"You were really convinced they weren't lining up behind you? Or anyone in the queue who can't keep their eyes off of this thing. Tell me, and try not to lie, try not to bullshit this one out: how many girls have you come home and fucked and creamed their brains out - then asked for the sloppiest, most -"

"Honestly."

"- Filthiest, nasty, ball-busting, gut-wrenching blowjob ever to make them think - to make them really start wondering what the hell it was you did - like it's gotta be something that leaves them so ruined, they can't ever not compare - can't ever not compare this moment, right here. Ever. When you give them the hardest fucking of their life, compared to any other guy - can't not, because no-one, literally no-one's cock can fuck like you do-"

"Fuck-"

"Any harder. Come on, seriously, tell me it isn't true. Come on."

Her voice - her fucking words, the tone she uses and how her words roll: honey-warm and soaking with sweet, thick degradation - she talks like sex, and that's exactly what gets you harder, like it’s something else; like it’s nothing, like it’s less, so much worse - you feel this guilty-dirty heat pool at your tailbone and push down the hard press of you throbbing all the way to her nose. And Hyeju smiles as much as she's capable around the fat, round stretch, humming around the warm taste of you, before opening wide and sinking her throat on it.

There's nothing like it.

You've got two fists in her hair; she's so tight and wet around every god-damn inch. Her cheeks flush - hot to the touch; her tongue laving in slow, long drags, slicking your shaft nice and warm until you're balls-deep and pushing her further: a small shift to the hips, a push here, a harder, faster pull, and Hyeju's feet behind her go curling like an angry cat, wanting the tug.

A long, satisfied breath slips from the hollows of her throat.

There are tears threatening, thickening her lashes, and though she doesn't choke - you're just afraid. Every sound that she pulls out, her eyes blinking up to you as if it's only natural to love getting used by her friend's cock, like the very premise of it - swallowing down the very shape of you, dragged over her tongue and brushing cum into the back of her throat - is something she can’t go without.

But this is nothing compared to the noises from where her lips are pressed tight around you, where you're hearing and even feeling:

That gluck, gluck - where her chest spasms just the slightest when her nose gets nuzzled right into your belly and you remember how much she likes to hear you talk dirty, how fucking wet it gets her. The heavy, deep breaths, gasps; the strangled moans when your hips just buck - the heat and the thrill, and this is better than every other time because there's just something in this moment -

"I'm not gonna come again, not like this. Not in your mouth. You can’t-"

But Hyeju refuses to hear a word; just pumps your shaft faster, feeling it's familiar hardness grow and throb and ache and retch, all her effort paying off: you're slick with precum and spit, hard and straining, the whole shaft begging for release - all because of her. And Hyeju won't stop, she pushes her cheek onto your thigh and then taps a hand there to pull your hips. The motion drives your cock further still inside her. Until it’s bathed in her spit, your cum, all this mess.

Until it's reaching, choking her, and the muffled sounds she's making are filthy and wet and so incredulously hot.

But god. Hyeju has something of a temper and a habit, too: with those big beautiful eyes and the perfect plump of her pouting lips, her tits swelling up around, when your grip slips on her shoulder, and her mouth goes tighter - how the pleasure begins to make you unbearably cruel and you push her away from you, only for a second -

She doesn't wait or seem to care; Hyeju follows the cock with her whole head and whimpers so hotly in her throat when it plops right back on her tongue. "That's more - more like - fuck, oh, there we go," her nose and fingers prodding.

You groan through a high, strangled whimper, a helpless shiver that turns into an uncontrollable roll of the hips - you can't believe it: she's already so thoroughly debauched and defaced; just fucking painted with it. Your cum dripping off her chin and rolling down her neck.

"Fuck - gonna make me - ah, Jesus -"

When Hyeju seems to have reached her fill, the feeling, you're cumming - pumping the length of your shaft. And the moment she feels you twitch and throb and that first hot spill lands in the bend of her mouth, it's as if she understands and holds herself tight - her legs going stock-still while your eyes blow up behind her, your cock spewing another and then another thick, milky load into her mouth, over her tongue: all along the topography of her throat - sticky cum landing in every ridge and valley -

Hyeju catches as much as she can. What little she can. You cum and pump and gush so much that when you're finally finished - done - every last drop spent and given - your cock throbs soft between her fingers; her chin is a complete and utter mess and her chest heaves with the sound of her catching her own breath. Hyeju groans softly and just swishes the load around in her mouth for a bit as if wanting to remember its feel and weight before lifting her eyes to look into yours. You can just barely see the color.

"Jesus, Hyeju-"

The entire bit of it, slick and shining-wet. With a small moan, a sound from the back of her throat: one swallow and the cum is gone, disappeared, vanished. She smiles like she didn't just ruin your entire goddamn life and, with her body limp and exhausted beside you - her gentle hand rubbing a flat stroke over your thigh before yours slips up to meet her chin.

"You," you curse and roll your eyes, catching the mess at the edge of her jaw, the very little left in the corners of her lips. You feed the cum over her bottom lip - her chin, her throat - watching your friend: Hyeju's throat, bobbing. "Really didn't have to," you start, but you realize just how useless a point it is to make.

She's smiling and biting and showing you what's left between the tips of her canines. "Do you always do this to the people who suck you off?"

"That's an awful habit. A pretty girl's lips aren't meant to get that messy," you reply.

"Oh." She frowns. "Well, I do a lot of things I shouldn't."

"God, seriously," and you think there's no greater hell, no sweeter pain than whatever's lingering in these little aftershocks - this fizzling and dying sort of pain, where the body is buzzed with all you're aching for. It's impossible to stop this train of thoughts, is the fucking feeling of her-

But just then, Hyeju rises to her knees, a new spark in her eyes, as she grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you off the sheets, a few inches closer.

"And you," she purrs as she drags the palm of your hand across her neck and collarbone, collecting what remains and making the perfect image, "well - you are going to help clean me up, like you said before." She sits tall; the arch of her spine is pronounced - her back, so, very, slightly tapering, to where your hand slips right off the last of it: the wide flare of her hips. "Now isn't that the gentleman's thing to do?" she asks.

"Of course." You sigh, resigned and in desperate need of water. "Of course," you add and smirk a little and slip your hand lower, toward where her skin is getting hot, and her body, "let's get you clean."

"Mm." She's already grinning. "You know what wasn't in those textbooks?"

"Oh, I can only guess." You bite your cheek and start to lower yourself back. "Give it a try."

Hyeju drags you by the wrist toward the hall, the bathroom, ostensibly the shower -

"There's no way in hell you don't want to put a baby in me, like, right fucking now."

"Is that what we're doing?"

Hyeju makes a face like you're stupid - she might've grabbed a towel on the way out. She wipes her chin a little while walking - the corner of her mouth where, well - where it looks like a little dribble has somehow remained. "No. But you’re going to fuck me like it is."

-

(There's got so much on her mind. 

The door of the shower rattling in its frame as she struggles standing up against it. Getting fucked so fast and full, the feeling of both your hands cupped beneath the weight of her breasts. It's not the fact of where you are and your situation, per say - more about the immediate, the imperative nature. About fucking you. She was already feeling herself like, leaking the moment the door shut, so all that waiting, all that patience, really - and it's what drove her insane when you were, well: like that, after she put her mouth around your cock, made a right and proper mess of herself, and sucked you off.

Though there's less on her mind, clearly, when she cums all over your cock.

She's crying with her tits up onto the glass, your palm holding her ribs. Your cum-slick cock working itself hard again as it slips, back and forth, as you're fucking her open, spread apart. It's your finger in her asshole. That's what's on her mind then. How the press of your knuckle lights her entire fucking spine on fire - how the other hand finds her clit in all this, too, when you're no longer supporting the both of you but rather Hyeju is folding on her bent knee and trusting, on shaking and shivering, raw nerves, that you're not going to collapse.

"Fucking. God, please-"

There's the harsh slap of flesh - skin on wet skin, your palms against the sides of her ass and the curve of the breast. But otherwise - it's you, sighing - soft and gentle, like you can't get over the feel of her. "Hyeju, oh-fucking, god, fucking," is what you're saying, and it doesn't end up really mattering which one of you came last because she can feel you twitching, squelching in and out with how badly you're wanting to explode inside, but also you can feel her cunt absolutely begging, this fucking fluttering and clamping down on every thrust and the moment you manage to grind this angle she loses her ability to speak properly because you're not just, like - fucking her-

Just, absolutely, completely pounding her pussy, stretching her insides, dragging and sliding along the walls; each rough rub and thrust makes her knees quiver until her body is trembling and falling. But mostly her voice, the sharp gasp that shakes into her, how her nails are scraping the walls of the shower stall and she's saying - telling, crying and asking and wondering and pleading - just utterly astounded:

"Amazing," she huffs, breathes coming out cloudy and true onto the pane of glass, "you - it’s, fucking amazing.")

-

“And I am… Ironman.”

Your eyes flicker awake, hazy, as Tony Stark snaps his fingers, killing himself alongside Thanos’ army in the process.

The TV's long been running on background noise, though not as ambient. Its characters now bickering between the rubble and ruins and being picked up for the end credits. In the dark of the screen, you see Hyeju had nodded off and slumped over the side of your body. A new year means new beginning means resolutions and diets and gym routines -

Maybe no sooner than the sun can come up, apparently.

You lean over to grab your phone from the table: 4:14 A.M.

There's a lot of things you want to say, even more you want to hear, but your mind has begun to settle a bit - a lazy and dreamy thing that fills you with this sort of, tired kind of - not sad, or empty - no, of course not. That's hardly fitting; not after tonight. You want to wrap this in an idealistic sort of sentiment - maybe hold Hyeju close and let the hour carry you and the comfort be enough to forgive whatever there is to miss: like the fact, it's still really dark, so dark even outside. The moon reflecting off the sheet of snow on the street. And not even a distant dog barking, or car driving by or someone playing loud music in the early hours of the new year.

As the film drifts off into another set of commercials, you slip into an easy sleep that feels effortless. Your head drops, landing on the cushion by the arm of the couch, where Hyeju's hand begins to slip mindlessly across your belly, tickling your waist and causing you to slightly squirm - things are cooling down, but still a little agitated.

"Don't tell me you're waking me up, cause I just -"

She kisses the pulse at your throat and answers, mumbling half-words into the spot below your ear. "A kiss for a new year."

And maybe the world doesn't owe you anything at all.

Maybe it just gave you more than enough.

[clonerightsagenda]

May I ask what the 'no sex in space' rant is? Zero G sounds like fun :<

The space sex rant is my passion. Possibly because I have no emotional investment in the act so when it gets broken down into weird biology and mechanics by the cruel forces of physics, I find it kind of fascinating.

Sticking this below the cut because it will get long. My primary source is Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, but A City on Mars gets into the same issues. Yes, at least two books have entire chapters devoted to the space sex problem.

Note that this is all assuming microgravity. Many of the problems go away if you have artificial gravity, which we haven't cracked yet beyond building centrifuges. Your Star Trek fanfics are safe. So without further ado, and in no particular order, reasons why you probably shouldn't have sex in zero gravity and it probably wouldn't be that fun if you did:

The infamous 'no boners in space'. Since we're evolved to live in gravity, our bodies compensate for it by putting more effort into getting fluids above our heart. In microgravity, that's unnecessary, so you end up with fluid shift - more fluids, including blood, in the upper body. Your total blood volume also goes down. This would make an erection more difficult, and in fact most astronauts interviewed for whom this would be relevant claimed they didn't get any. The outlier here is Mike Mullane, but having read his memoir, he is the kind of guy who would lie about that. Now, as I touched on while despairingly liveblogging Barrayar, that does not prevent you from having a good time. However less blood flow would presumably mean less sensation in general for anyone below the belt. Or if you stimulated too much blood flow, with the lower total blood volume, perhaps that 'got dizzy because I got horny' joke will actually come true.

In microgravity, body heat and CO2 don't disperse the same way they do in regular atmosphere. Astronauts have to make sure they sleep in well-ventilated areas and are also trained on symptoms of CO2 poisoning. If multiple people are in an area exerting themselves, that buildup will happen faster and would need to be taken into account. It would be super embarrassing to suffocate crammed into a closet for some hanky panky.

The laws of motion are not your friend here. I've seen videos of astronauts pushing themselves across the room with a strand of hair. If you're trying to hold onto someone, you'd either want a relatively small space (maybe not a great idea, see point 2) or hold on really well. One astronaut Mary Roach interviewed suggested duct tape. Perhaps fuzzy handcuffs are critical here. Still you're going to need to put a lot of thought into every move you make.

Space is gross. :( Right now astronauts just wipe themselves down with clothes and dry shampoo. "Skin flakes" is a serious problem. Also we're still not entirely sure why, but astronauts develop awful body odor. According to Mary Roach again, while armpits are famous as a BO source, apparently the crotch is as well, it's just that those regions are typically further from our nose. So idk if anyone's going to want to get that close and personal with anyone else while they're up there. Then again I'm sure people have hooked up in grosser situations.

I'm probably forgetting some tidbits since I just woke up, but in summary, zero gravity sex would need to be carefully choreographed, require some equipment (fan, fasteners), and probably wouldn't even be as enjoyable as its Earthnorm counterpart. It's a good thing that's not what anyone's up there for.

[mi-rae07]

Song Mingi : Burning Desire (Part 5/5)

Pairing : Song Mingi (Ateez) and named character (Moon Aeri)

_____________________

A/n : so guess what, there's going to be a second season to this fic. I'd thought of cramming it all into one season with five parts but that didn't happen. Since it's enemies to lovers it's taking more time than expected to put them together lmao. So I'll probably have a second season with more parts to this after some time.

That is, if all of you want it to happen. So please let me know whether you'd like a second season or just leave it at this. And if you have any suggestions on the story line you can tell me that too!

But thank you for reading (this part is also going to be a bit long lol) and I love you!

______________________

Mingi remebered everything that had happened even when he was in a hazy state of mind. The medicine didn't wipe away his memories, although it did make him more vulnerable. And now as mingi followed aeri to wherever she was leading him, mingi not only felt embarassed, but also angry at himself for having been so emotional.

His bestfriend had betrayed him, but mingi should've known, given han's actions and negligence towards him lately. And he had been the only one to know that aeri was stabbed on her leg, not the heart that day.

But now, looking at aeri entering mingi's office room, he'd realized he'd fallen into aeri's trap. She had taken pure advantage of the situation. He had forgotten how cunning she was, how manipulative she could be.

Aeri : what is your mother's name?

Mingi paused on his tracks as aeri shut the door behind them, sitting down on mingi's chair as she said nonchalantly

Aeri : are you not going to answer?

Did she just sit on his chair, leaving him to stand? Mingi let out a breath in part annoyance as he looked away before saying

Mingi : jung mi-seo.

Aeri : is she alive right now?

Mingi : what does that matter to you?

Aeri : are you really going to show me that attitude given our situation, love?

Mingi rolled his eyes as he whispered

Mingi : she's long dead.

Aeri : how did she die? Did you kill her?

Mingi : she killed her herself, now can we just stop?

Aeri sighed, leaning back against the chair as she said

Aeri : it's han, isn't it? The traitor? That's why you let yourself get stabbed.

Mingi hated his answer.

Mingi : yes.

Aeri : you have to find him, and kill him.

As if he wasn't already going to do that.

Mingi : is that an order, your majesty?

Aeri : yes it is.

Mingi : consider it done.

Aeri : there's more. After you have brought me his head on a spike, you need to leave.

Mingi : pardon?

Aeri : leave, mingi, you're going renounce being China's emperor and you're going to go back to Korea.

Unbelievable. Mingi scoffed as he said

Mingi : you think I'll do that?

Aeri : you think I can't kill you, then? Either you do this your way or I make you leave my way. But if it goes my way you will not only lose China and Korea, but also your own head. So do it the easy way, mingi, just leave.

Mingi : is that why you did all that when I was sick, your majesty?

Aeri looked at mingi as he walked closer, her realizing he was doing that thing that he always does, intimidate her through her own past actions. She wouldn't fall for it this time.

Aeri : did what?

Mingi : oh don't act clueless now. If I know of it, you definitely do.

Aeri : mingi-

Mingi : you called me that when I awoke from a nightmare, didn't you? It was what put me back to sleep. I responded well to the call once, you think I want you to keep calling me by my name?

Aeri chuckled, shaking her head as she said

Aeri : what are you going to do about it? Kill me? You aren't powerful enough to do that anymore, mingi. Because if you do that the soldiers will know who did it and then the people. They would burn you to death, humiliate you. And I know of your greatest fear now, mingi. It is to not live a life of glory, to not die with dignity. Being humiliated is your biggest fear.

Mingi clenched his jaw, closing his eyes as he realized aeri had done her research while he was away, and she was smart enough to have taken something away from it. Mingi should've killed her much sooner.

Aeri : we have a ball tonight.

Mingi : what?

Aeri : to celebrate you getting better, of course. So dress in blue, royal blue.

Mingi stared at aeri in part shock as she stood up, walking towards the door before saying

Aeri : that was your mother's favorite color, was it not? It is mine too.

______________________________

Aeri looked at the mirror as the maids rushed around her, getting her ready for the ball. It was a beautiful royal blue gown with gold linings and pearls on it, perfect for an evening ball celebrating the health of her husband. Mingi hadn't directly told her about his mother's favorite color, she had figured it out through research. While aeri was plotting the taking over of the nation's powers she had figured it would be a good idea to know how mingi had ruled for the past 5 years in Korea as it's sole king.

The Korean crown was known for it's diamonds on it, but mingi had had it all removed and replaced with the finest sapphires that could be found. And his royal photo, he was wearing a royal blue suit in it. Moreover, as aeri looked at her wedding ring she came to the realization that the sapphire was more emphasized than any other jewels on it, even the main diamond.

It was obvious the obsession he had with the color, and she figured it would be because of his mother. Now she confirmed it.

Aeri didn't trust anyone anymore, not even Mina. Which was why she hadn't told mina of her plan to take over the nation while mingi was unconscious. No one wanted a woman on the throne, so aeri was going to put her there herself. And the people would not be able to do anything.

Right now aeri would play the role of a dutiful and good wife who was happy her emperor has surpassed death. And then when mingi leaves after han, she is going to appear to be weak, she's going to blame mingi for leaving the kingdom and condemn him for being an unfaithful husband. That will gain the people's sympathy, and then, soon aeri will be on the throne. She will not marry again, and neither will anyone be able to force her.

She will be China's sole empress, as she was always meant to be.

Aeri let out a small smile as she looked at the mirror in front of her, knowing that her time had come.

______________________________

Mingi had never seen so much extravagance for a ball, and as he walked down the stairs with aeri's arm wrapped around his, the ministers below clapped for him, bowing at the sight of their emperor. Aeri smiled as she looked at mingi, her eyes indirectly telling him to not look so blanked out.

Mingi sighed as he nodded at the people around them, aeri almost dragging him to the home minister as he started conversing with them. Mingi stared at aeri as she started talking about something, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

He still remembered how nice he felt when aeri had held him in her hands, how warm she felt and how soothing her words were. No one had ever held mingi like that, no one had ever told him such kind words. Now mingi knew those words were nothing but a trap aeri had skillfully set to get rid of him. But even then, mingi's body still longed for hers, he wished she could run her hands along his hair again, put him to sleep.

Aeri : my love?

Mingi quickly looked at aeri as she gave him a knowing smile, mingi looking back at the minister as aeri said

Aeri : mr kim was just asking you whether you would return to court tomorrow.

Mingi : oh, yes. I shall be returning to my duties tomorrow, if god wills it.

Minister : that is good to hear, your majesty. We have missed you very much. The court has been empty all this while long as well, since, you know, the empress refused to leave your bedside and took care of state matters from your chambers itself.

Mingi looked at aeri with raised eyebrows as she smiled at the minister before saying

Aeri : I am a wife before I am an empress, minister. Now if you'll excuse us, we'll need to talk with the other ministers.

The minister bowed with a smile as aeri led mingi away from the home minister to the defense minister that was standing a few meters away from them. Mingi leaned down as he whispered

Mingi : so you did not even leave my side, my good wife?

Aeri : in their eyes, I did not. My plan had to be foolproof, husband, being a woman is not easy.

Mingi looked at aeri as the defense minister quickly bowed down at their presence, smiling as he started talking about something. Except mingi couldn't focus, aeri looked too beautiful in blue.

It was now his favorite color too.

______________________________

Mingi sat back against his chair as he took another sip of his wine, staring soullessly into the carpeted floor of the palace ballroom.

"You are too weak, my son, you will love anyone no matter how bad they treat you, like a street dog. They can hit you, bleed you, kill you, but you will still love them as if they've been an angel to you. Your heart is too fragile for this world, you will never be able to control it"

Those had been the very words that had caused mingi to lock his heart away, caging it in stone and never letting it control him. But then the world had called him cruel, they had called him a monster for it. So mingi had realized that the people were going to hate you no matter what you did so he'd learned to stop caring about that too.

And then he'd met aeri, the cold cruel empress of China who ruled only with her head, seeming to have no heart. And yet the people accepted her. Mingi had kept his heart away from her and her feigning actions, but then…then what was this feeling? Why-

Aeri : it is time to dance.

Mingi looked up at aeri, her gloved hand held out for him to hold. Mingi knew he had no choice so he kept the wine glass away before taking her hand, leading her to the dance floor as the band began playing a fast romantic tune. Aeri put her hand on his shoulder as mingi led the waltz, wanting to finish this as soon as possible.

Aeri : do you know something, mingi? While you were unconscious, I'd thought of killing you then and there.

Mingi looked at aeri as she smiled and continued

Aeri : I thought of taking a blade and stabbing it into the same wound I'd helped heal, watching you thrash around helplessly as you tried holding onto whatever was possible. Watching you bleed dry as the sun rose and your eyes turned soulless and your body cold as ice.

Mingi suddenly felt breathless as aeri twirled herself around him before holding his hand once again. For the others around they would seem as a happy couple, the lady hopelessly in love with all her heart eyes and beautiful smiles. Only the both of them knew the words the lady was saying with those same eyes.

Aeri : but then I thought, oh, but if I do that then the people will surely know that I killed my husband and they will burn me to death before throwing the ashes into the river. So I decided to wait.

Mingi tightened his grip on aeri's waist as he lifted her up, twirling her around before putting her back on her feet again.

Aeri : I could kill you even now, my love, and oh how much I wish I could. If only there weren't so many rules and protocols.

Mingi felt his head spin, the suit suddenly feeling too tight on his body as sweat dribbled down his forehead. Before aeri could say anything more mingi whispered

Mingi : let go of me.

Aeri : you cannot leave in between a dance, that is impolite.

Mingi : let me go, aeri! I do not want to continue this.

Aeri : you don't have a choice-

Aeri cut herself off as mingi forced himself out of her hold, turning around as he rushed out of the ballroom. The band suddenly stopped playing at that, the couples and people around looking at aeri in part confusion as she smiled

Aeri : the emperor felt too giddy from the wine, and the dance was getting too much for him physically all of a sudden. I shall take my leave too now, noblemen. I will see you all in court tomorrow, thank you for coming.

The people around bowed at her as aeri gave them all a last smile before walking out of the ballroom as well. She looked around the place for mingi as she saw him rushing towards the garden area, her quickly following him.

She soon paused in front of the fountain area as she saw mingi sitting at the edge of it, his pant cuff drenched in water as sprinkles of it decorated his face and body. Aeri lifted her skirts up as she walked towards him, the cold water now falling on her as well as she said to mingi

Aeri : do you not understand my words, mingi? I told you not to leave-

Mingi : go away.

Aeri scoffed, walking further to the edge of the fountain where mingi's back faced her as she said

Aeri : you think I'll listen? You-

Mingi : LET ME BE MOON AERI!

Aeri looked at mingi as he stared up at her, her realizing that his eyes were red, his shirt now drenched from the fountain water. Was he…aeri stepped back as mingi stood up from his place, walking past her. Aeri let out a breath as she ran to him, holding his arm as she said

Aeri : what is wrong with you? Did the medicine cause something-

Mingi : the medicine caused nothing, I just need time away from you. So please, just let me fucking go.

Aeri : time away from me? Mingi you need to catch han soon and we need to attend to the court tomorrow-

Mingi groaned as he pushed aeri away from him with all his force, causing her to stumble back as she tripped over her skirts and fell down. Aeri gasped, looking up as she glared at mingi.

Aeri : did you just-

Mingi : I TOLD YOU, I DO NOT WISH TO SEE YOU RIGHT NOW! PLEASE!

Aeri stared at mingi in part confusion as he let out a breath and walked away, disappearing into the palace. Aeri let out a breath as she looked at her palm that had cut through a sharp piece of stone during the fall, blood oozing out of it as she muttered under her breath

Aeri : what the bloody hell is wrong with that man.

__________________________

Mingi stared blankly at the floors of the palace as he walked towards his chambers three hours later, the half asleep guards bowing at him. Mingi had no idea what had happened to him, why the hell had he reacted like that? He'd sat and thought about it for a whole three hours and he still had no answers. Fuck this, why was he so triggered by what aeri had told him? It wasn't the first time. What changed?

Mingi opened the door to his chambers as he saw aeri fast asleep on the bed, one of her hand dangling down the bed. Mingi frowned as he shut the door behind him, walking closer to aeri as he realized the skin on her palm had split open, probably from him pushing her in the garden.

Mingi sighed, bringing the first aid kit as he kneeled down the floor. He began taking care of the wound gently, not wanting to wake aeri up. He had no idea why he was doing this, but seeing her blood did something to him.

As mingi bandaged up the hand that had once buried itself in his hair, running along his back bringing him comfort no one else had ever offered, he realized how much he'd wanted to go back. Yes, he was not in the right state of mind and yes, he had recurring nightmares and the pain had been terrible. But if that meant having aeri take care of him, if that meant feeling her touch on his skin and her voice that held no sharpness, he'd go through all of it over again.

Mingi kept the first aid kit away as he laid his forehead against the edge of the bed, closing his eyes as a tired sigh fell from his lips. And just like that he'd fallen asleep.

______________________________

Han : he definitely loves her.

??? : what?

Han : I'm telling you, san, song mingi loves the empress.

San scoffed, taking a sip of his gin as he said

San : he, song mingi, the great emperor of China and Korea, has fallen in love?

Han realized how hard that was to believe, given mingi's stance in the political realm and his ways with people. But he saw the way he looked at her.

Han : believe it or not, it has happened. We can't defeat mingi face-to-face, he's too strong for that. We need something, someone, else as leverage.

San : so you're saying we should just kidnap the empress instead and lure him to us?

Han : yes, and he'll fall for it, 100 percent.

San supposed kidnapping a woman would be much, much easier than a man, she was too weak to fight back.

San : if this fails-

Han : it won't, san. Love can win battles, but it can also cause great wars, remember? When in love mingi is weak, he will do anything for her life, I am sure of it.

San : well then, I suppose moon aeri it is. By the way, do you think I could have her after all this? She's a pretty thing, I'm sure.

Han : I have nothing to do with that lady, san, I only need her crown. The rest of it is all yours.

_________________________

Aeri opened her eyes as she felt a weight on her hand, something smooth tickling against her skin as she looked to her side and realized with a start that mingi was fast asleep beside her, only his head rested against her wounded hand. Why the hell was he on the floor? And why was her hand bandaged?

Aeri let out a breath as she sat up straight, that waking up mingi as well as he woke up with a small groan.

Aeri : did you do this?

Mingi's sleepy eyes looked at the bandage that was wrapped around aeri's hand as he said

Mingi : yes, is it not from yesterday night? At the garden-

Aeri : where you started acting out like a teenage boy? Yes.

Mingi : I-

Aeri : I would appreciate it if you don't do that again, mingi. Now get up, we have to attend to court.

Mingi stared after aeri as she walked towards the bathroom, that same stone cold expression on her face. He wished he could see her smile at least once before she sent him away.

____________________________

3 weeks later :

Mingi was now walking towards a secluded area in the city, his fingers wrapped around the royal sword's hilt as he looked around him. He had ignored aeri for weeks now, hoping to get rid of these stupid feelings he had for her. He didn't want to decipher them, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to return from it. And so he'd lost himself in trying to find han, and yesterday he had gotten his first intel saying that han was living in a small place close to the old city market that had been abandoned years ago.

As mingi reached closer to the only small three storied building around, he saw lights lit up in some of the rooms, mingi looking around as he noticed that there was no one around here, it had gotten dark as well. This was seeming more to be a trap than it was now.

And just as mingi was about to step forward the door to the building opened, revealing han who already seemed to have expected him with that smug look on his face.

Shit, shit.

Han : so you're here, your majesty! I see you're healthy again?

Mingi : where did you get the men from?

Han chuckled as he said

Han : you're too smart for your own good, song mingi. But too bad I'm smarter than you.

Mingi let out a breath as han walked into the inside of the building, a bunch of men rushing out of the house after him with weapons in their hands. Mingi quickly pulled out his royal sword as he whispered under his breath

Mingi : god save me.

__________________________

Aeri had been sitting on that dining table for half an hour now, picking at her food. She felt no appetite for some reason, as she hadn't felt for the past week. Mingi had been ignoring her for everything other than work purposes, and aeri supposed that was what she ideally wanted, right? He had been focusing on finding han, and that means the sooner mingi would just leave this nation for good.

Except aeri had seen mingi with that puppy the other day, she had seen him smile and laugh for the first time, feeding the stray puppy food and water. The dog hadn't left mingi's side since then, and he had taken it in and was raising it in another room entirely. He hadn't told her about it, but she'd seen him take it for walks, and how happy he had looked with it.

Aeri had tried to ignore it, but then she hadn't seen mingi for a few hours now, and she had little idea where he'd gone. Aeri sighed as she said to the guard behind her

Aeri : did his majesty take the carriage with him?

??? : no your majesty, he went on a single horse.

Aeri : no guards?

??? : none, your majesty.

Aeri let out a breath as she stood up, saying to the maids as she walked towards the door

Aeri : dinner's done.

Aeri quickly walked towards the stables, picking up her bow and arrows along the way as she muttered under her breath

Aeri : damn this man.

_________________________

Mingi groaned as he pushed another man away from him, stabbing his already bloodied sword into the man's heart as he pushed him back. There were too many men, and mingi didn't have enough weapons. He had already killed dozens without getting wounded, but mingi felt like he would fall soon. Mingi felt sounds behind him and turned around to see a man running up to him with an axe. Mingi was just about to raise his sword when an arrow was shot straight into the man's heart from behind, causing him to fall down.

Mingi looked up with widened eyes as he saw aeri riding up to him on a horse, a bow and arrow aimed at the men behind him. Mingi stared as aeri shot arrow after arrow past him, her tilting the bow slightly as one of the arrows went right past his ear, causing his earring to jingle as aeri quickly rode up to him and said

Aeri : CLIMB UP!

Mingi looked behind him one last time before climbing aeri's horse, his chest pressing against her back as aeri handed the bow and arrows to mingi

Aeri : shoot.

Mingi held onto the saddle as aeri quickly turned the horse around, mingi raising the bow as he started shooting at the men close to them one by one.

Aeri : are you stupid?

Mingi : what?

Aeri : ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID!

Mingi : han, he has an army now, your majesty.

Aeri : I don't fucking care, mingi!

Mingi : you're the one who wanted me to find out-

Aeri : NOT BY KILLING YOURSELF!

Mingi did not understand why aeri was suddenly being like this. He shot his final arrow as the men finally stopped running after them, aeri leading her horse into a nearby forest as mingi looked around before asking

Mingi : are we going to get lost?

Aeri : no.

Mingi let out a breath as he kept the bow away, letting out a small hiss as he looked at the side of his right arm to realize that there was a deep cut on it. It was probably the only serious wound he'd gotten today.

Aeri : are you hurt?

Mingi : no.

Mingi paused as aeri slowly stopped the horse in between a small clearing, getting off of it as mingi looked at her in confusion

Aeri : get down.

Mingi let out a breath as he got off of the horse, aeri quickly holding his arm as she started inspecting him with worried eyes. Mingi stared at her blankly as he asked

Mingi : what are you doing?

Aeri : checking for any injuries.

Mingi : what does that matter to you?

Aeri : mingi! You just escaped death and now you're putting yourself into it again?

Mingi : you asked me to find han, your majesty. It was an order.

Aeri : you don't have to do it like this! If you die so soon who's going to kill han for me?

Oh, so that was why she'd come to save him. Because she still had uses for him, why did mingi even bother to think otherwise?

Mingi : han tried hurting you, and I'm sure he would do it again your majesty. I need to kill him before that happens.

Aeri : why would he do it to me? Why not you?

Mingi : because…look it doesn't matter. We-

Aeri : mingi, tell me.

Mingi stared at aeri as she looked up at him with those same eyes that mingi felt shone brighter than the stars above him.

Mingi : is that a command?

Aeri : yes.

Mingi : because you are my only weakness, because getting to you would be the best way to get to me, my heart. If they can't defeat me through physical force, they will do it this way.

Aeri : what…what is that supposed to mean?

Mingi : you've already researched about me, your majesty, you know how it gets when I…fall in love.

Aeri : what? Fall in love with who?

Why the hell was this lady so bloody clueless, mingi thought.

Mingi : we need to go back to the palace.

Aeri : I did not get my answer-

Mingi : it doesn't matter.

Aeri : it does to me!

Mingi : GOD DAMN IT, IT'S YOU! YOU…I've fallen in love with you.

Aeri stepped back in shock, her eyes widening as she scoffed and whispered

Aeri : this is a trap. You're trying to use my own moves against me-

Mingi : I am not so cruel, your majesty, and I am not as good as a liar as you are.

Aeri felt her heart beat faster as she muttered under her breath

Aeri : this cannot be true.

Mingi : I wish it wasn't.

Aeri : why…no, why would you fall in love with me? I have-

Mingi : I do not know, okay. Now can we go back to the palace, please.

Aeri watched as mingi got on top of the horse, holding out a hand for her to hold as aeri sighed and took it, using it to lift herself up onto the horse back as mingi started riding the horse through the forest.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything, mingi was too embarassed and aeri was too shocked. That was until she realized.

Aeri : do you know the way around this forest?

Mingi : how else do you think I came here, your majesty?

Aeri sighed as she looked around, the place getting darker as time passed. If they didn't reach mainland soon they'd be doomed.

Mingi : we need to prepare for war.

Aeri : war?

Mingi : han has an army now, your majesty, I told you. And there is only one way he could've attained it. Choi san.

Aeri : the king of our neighboring kingdom?

Mingi : yes, do you know him?

She didn't know him but she knew his body.

Aeri : he used to be my muse once, when my old husband got quite boring.

Mingi : what?

Aeri rolled her eyes as she started

Aeri : we used to have sex-

Mingi : no. no no I get it.

The last thing mingi wanted to hear right now was her past sexual relations and how it went. Aeri smirked as she moved her hair away from her face. Once again there was a pause for few minutes before mingi suddenly asked

Mingi : do you still love him?

Aeri : love? I've never loved him, mingi, or anyone for that matter. I have only ever used him for my own pleasure, as I have for everyone else in my life.

Mingi sighed, riding the horse faster as he whispered

Mingi : this is going to be such a mess.

_____________________________

[crplpunkklavier]

obsessed with how klavier's canon timeline just fully makes no sense.

his trial against phoenix is his first, right. at this point, the gavinners are already famous enough to perform expensive concerts, due to their debut single hitting platinum overnight. we don't know when this happened, just that it had to be before the gramarye trial, because klavier talks about it there. ok.

when kristoph talks to him before the trial, in the flashback, we briefly see klavier's office, that already seems to have guitars all over the wall. that's not necessarily an inconsistency, it just means that even before he ever went to court, klavier had that office, and enough money to cram it full of guitars, which also suggests they aren't necessarily like a carefully curated collection, but were in fact just some 16~17 year old guy who just got a lot of money and bought 50 guitars at once in some sort of teenage frenzy.

we also don't know when exactly he took the bar exam, only that he took it in europe. obviously, it was before that first trial, so he might have even been younger than 17, but we don't know.

my favorite part, though, is that he says that daryan was the first detective he'd ever worked with, which can also mean a number of really weird things. clearly, the gavinners existed before klavier started prosecuting, so,

either he knew daryan before daryan was a detective, and they started the band together and then both also started into their law enforcement lives, in which case its hilariously strange of klavier to say that he was the first detective he ever worked with. like, i guess, but you also knew him when you were in high school.

or the gavinners existed without daryan for a short time, which seems unlikely, but would also be really funny given they had a platinum hit without this dude then. and then klavier starts working with a detective and is like hey you should join my glam rock band. yeah youve heard of us

or klavier worked with him on a case he just didnt prosecute, either because it didnt go to trial, or maybe he worked on it for school or something, which then implies that either daryan somehow made detective before he hit 20, or daryan is SEVERAL years older than klavier. which, according to canon ages, he is not. they're the same age. but maybe daryan pretends to be 5 years younger or something. wouldn't put it past him. or he pretended to be older with a fake ID so they'd let him into the force (also hilarious). because we know daryan didn't study abroad, since he canonically has never left the country.

and then lastly there's the fact that it is heavily implied that klavier just.... stopped prosecuting after the gramarye trial. or at least the judge hadn't seen him around in a while, and klavier doesn't deny that he was absent, allegedly because his band got so big. we're made to believe that he only returns once he hears of apollo, and yet his office looks the exact same, as far as we can see in pictures. which once again leaves us with two possibilities: klavier's office was left completely untouched for 7 years, or he moved out of there after one trial, and then came back 7 years later and decided, yep, i should put my guitars up again the exact same way i did when i was 17.

there's also a thousand other ways of reading all this really. i honestly think this was all just the writers sort of winging it, and it's not like the mason system doesn't fully fuck up the timeline in that game anyway, so i don't think any of these are any more or less canon than others. they're just fun theories to play around with. what the fuck was this guy doing.

[jesterchan]

✝️💜🖤~Exorcism Of Lust~🖤💜✝️ (Part 2!) (NSFW!)

Priest AU!

A Priest Sun, Moon, And Eclipse X Possessed Female Reader Story...

NSFW Warning!

Content Warning: French Kissing, Fellatio, Cunnilingus, Cream Pies, Triple Penetration, Religious Themes, Fingering, And Praise Kink...

Eclipse's POV:

I was praying to god...

After finishing my prayers, I spend my free time reading the Bible.

I read at peace until...

"Father Eclipse!" a female voice called.

I dropped my Bible out of startlement. I picked up the book, irritated. I turned around to see Sister Vanessa running towards me.

She halted to draw breath and adjusted her gown.

"Any troubles Sister?" I ask, dusting the book with my arm.

"Something is happening to Father Sun and Moon!" she cried.

My eyes widened as I nearly dropped my book. I try to keep calm and not panic.

I walked towards her and questioned, "What is happening to them right now?"

"They are being lured by a possessed woman! They began doing blasphemous acts that you wouldn't even imagine!"

Tears well up in her eyes as she looked down. She then starts to weep.

I gasped and replied, "Oh goodness, Thanks for informing me. I shall take care of it immediately!"

I sprinted to seize a jeweled cross, a key, and some holy water.

I rushed downstairs, into the dungeon only to find an incredibly unholy scene.

(✝️💜🖤~Smut Starts Here~🖤💜✝️)

Father Sun was French kissing a nude S/C H/C-haired demon woman, (Unless you have no hair.) and she looked at me with sinful E/C eyes.

Father Moon, on the other hand, was licking her folds and fingering her. She moaned as her lips parted from Sun's, Leaving connected strings of drool.

"Father Sun! What are you doing?!" I interrupted

He looked at me with eyes full of lust, he sat up and suggested, "~Come play Eclipse...~"

Father Moon stopped licking, turned around, and pleaded "Please..."

I courageously held my adorned cross and approached them. The woman hissed and used her power to hinder me from approaching.

The power was so strong that I was thrown and collided with the stone walls. I recovered, but to my dismay, the jeweled cross sliced into pieces.

Just when I was about to grab my holy water...

"Eclipse don't!" Father Moon shouted.

I put it down and turned to Moon, wondering what he had to say.

"We are helping her! We are purifying her!" he said

"How?" I ask

"By filling her... With our holy seed..." he moaned out.

"No!" I shook my head, turned around to the wall, and said, "There has to be another way..."

"Her power is too strong for the cross, holy water, and the Bible combined..." Sun explained, his rays wilted like a flower.

"Well..." I turned back at them, "If those don't work..."

I removed my attire and unlocked my modesty plate, which revealed two large tentacle cocks.

"We'll have no choice but to sin..." my tentacle cocks wiggled and swirled about.

I clasped my hands and pleaded.

"Forgive me, Lord, as I am about to sin..."

I approached the bed and crept to the woman.

"What's your name?" I ask.

"My name is... Y/N..." she seductively replied, letting out a slight chuckle.

"~That's a beautiful name...~" I praised before cupping my enormous hands on her cheek.

I left kisses all over her shoulders and neck. She moaned and kissed my lips. I couldn't help but let the temptation take over me.

Third Person's POV:

Eclipse nuzzled into Y/N's B/S chest, he caressed them softly, causing her to quietly moan.

He played with her nipples, pinching them harshly.

Her moans increased in volume due to sensitivity. She yanked her head back.

Moon lined his cock and lubricated her folds before softly penetrating inside.

He started with slow delicate thrusts, feeling her tight walls. He softly moaned due to her tight entrance.

Y/N's mouth was then crammed up with Sun's cock, like Moon, he thrusts gently. Trying his best not to destroy her jaw.

Eclipse toyed with his two cocks, waiting for his turn. He could hardly wait to destroy Y/N's demon.

Moon gave a couple of swift powerful thrusts before loading her up with his holy seed.

Sun moaned as he came at the same time, he filled up Y/N's throat will his seed. He panted a little bit, but he wasn't done yet. He then carefully pulled out his cock.

Eclipse let out a groan as he ejaculated strings of semen.

"Move along Father Moon, it's my turn..." he said.

Moon moved away from Y/N, letting Eclipse take over. He lined his cocks and began thrusting at a standard pace.

Y/N began to stroke Father Sun and Moon's cocks, she would suck one of them off and switch at times.

Eclipse plowed into Y/N's entrance like a feral beast. They both screamed in pleasure, Thrusts so erratic, which then resulted in a filling orgasm.

He pulled out, stroked himself, and strings of seed decorated her body.

She devilishly smiled at him, gathered his semen, and tasted the fluid.

"Come along Father Sun, it's your turn..." He gestured for Sun to take over.

Sun crawled on the bed, lubricated Y/N's folds, and penetrated inside her used hole. Like Father Moon, he started softly.

"Our little lamb, our poor little lamb... May the Lord cure you with his holy seed..." He praised as he moaned in between his sentences.

Y/N looked at him, eyes full of remorse. She panted as his pace slowly hastened up. His hand cupped her cheek and pressed his lips on hers.

Tongues twist and swirl around while their saliva blends in. Each thrust hits harder than the previous.

After a few impactful thrusts, Sun's seed stuffed up her tight entrance. She moaned, took deep breaths, and sat up.

Her wings quivered and her tail slowly swished. They start to noticeably shrink. However, the shrinking halted midway.

"The demon is starting to leave her body..." Moon pointed out.

"This is a good sign, Father Moon. We shall penetrate all of Y/N's holes to expel the demon once and for all." Eclipse suggested.

"Let the purification... Begin..." Sun chimed in.

Y/N went on hands and knees, her legs spread out, allowing Father Sun to penetrate her entrance from underneath.

Father Moon knelt and jammed his cock into her mouth.

Finally, Eclipse approached her from behind, his two large cocks penetrated both her arse and vaginal holes, double penetrating her entrance.

The three priests all began to softly thrust inside Y/N. She moaned on Father Moon's cock. Father Eclipse's two large cocks make their way through her holes.

She moaned and looked down at Sun.

"Such an obedient lamb... I beg you to cum for us."

The three priests start to quicken the pace. Y/N begins to feel a little weary.

Her holes being used repeatedly for a long period is starting to drain not only her stamina but her demon powers as well.

The room was filled with moans and skin-slapping.

Her demon wings started to shrink and her tail began to disappear. Purity starts to wash over her.

After a few powerful thrusts, the three priests crammed her up with their cum. Her walls fluttered for the last time.

They all carefully pulled out. Their cocks spurt out the remaining semen on her body as they all got off of her.

She then lays down on the side, her legs shaking. She slowly took deep breaths and shivered due to the chill temperature.

Father Sun hurried to grab a warm fluffy blanket and covered her nude body.

(✝️💜🖤~Smut Ends Here~🖤💜✝️)

Y/N's opened her E/C eyes and sat up.

"Y/N? Are you there?" Eclipse asked, hoping she would act her usual self.

She nodded and examined her body. She smiled and replied, "Thank you for banishing the demon..."

"You're welcome." the three priests said in unison.

She then started to feel drowsy, and her eyelids felt heavy.

"Want us to take you to a more comfortable room..." Father Moon offered.

"Yes, Father Moon..." she replied.

Father Moon carried Y/N bridal style and walked her to a bedroom. The other priests followed

The bedroom looked adorned and cozy. He placed her on a huge bed full of pillows. He covered her with a blanket as she lay down.

Moon chose to join her, he looked at Father Eclipse and Sun.

The two priests then joined them and cuddled. Y/N giggled as they delivered hugs and kisses.

"Thank you all again for getting rid of that demon!" she starts to yawn and get comfy.

"That's our purpose, to purify others and give hope." Father Eclipse explained.

She smiled and said, "Well, I have to rest now."

"Good night Y/N!" Father Sun said, chuckling a bit.

Y/N then slowly drifted off to sleep...

✝️💜🖤~The End~🖤💜✝️

Have an idea for a one-shot? Let me know in the comments below! I can't wait to hear your ideas!

Note: Pick four emojis at most for a one-shot you want! Pick two hearts for a type of one-shot that you want!

[darchildre]

Sara Reads an Infuriating Book, the Conclusion

Friends, I have finished W Scott Poole's Wasteland. Here are some notes on the last two chapters:

Chapter 4:

Like chapter 3, this mostly discussed subjects outside my bailiwick - the chapter focused mostly on the rise of fascism in Europe and America throughout the 1930s and only touched on film a little. And the films it did discuss are, to my mind, only horror films if your definition is very broad: M, and the Dr Mabuse movies.

I have one small rant here: Poole, in discussing M, talks about the movie's "fully human monster" and the fact that American and British film wouldn't "fully explore this subject for another three decades." And I thought, okay, sure - making a movie as frankly about a child killer would be pretty confronting even today, that seems fair.

But no, this is not what he means, because the films he uses as examples of British and American films exploring the subject matter are Psycho and Peeping Tom, which means we're just talking about serial killers.

Sir. Even leaving aside movies like Murders in the Zoo and Mystery of the Wax Museum (which he's going to discuss in the very next chapter), between 1927 and 1944, people in Britain and the US filmed three separate versions of The Lodger. I am absolutely not claiming that these movies are anywhere near as good as M, but you cannot argue that no one outside Germany made a serial killer movie before the 1960s.

On the up side, this chapter did remind me to rewatch M and that I've always meant to get around to the Mabuse films.

Chapter 5! This chapter was called "Universal Monsters", which of course made me excited. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter, so Poole has to cram a lot of stuff in and can't really give anything enough space for proper discussion. Especially since this chapter is as scattered as all the others: we do discuss the American horror cycle of the 1930s, but we also have to drop in on Lovecraft, T S Eliot, and Machen (as we do every chapter), as well as discuss the revival of Spiritualism, the collapse of Victorian mourning culture during WWI, and some thoughts on ghost stories as comforting when compared to, y'know, the omnipresent mutilated corpses that Poole never stops talking about.

Because there's so much, nothing gets a lot of focus. Here are some bullet points:

Poole does not discuss the 1931 Dracula at all. It gets a sentence or two marking that it has been made, but no discussion of the actual film. And sure, you can't talk about everything, but my dude! You have been yammering on about symbolic/metaphorical portrayals of shell shock for chapters now and you don't want to talk about Dwight Frye's Renfield? We're just going to move right past Lucy quoting "Stand to Your Glasses" to a literal walking dead man? I get that you talked about Nosferatu a lot but damn, that seems like a hell of an omission.

Talking about James Whale and his horror movies: "We unfortunately have really nothing from the director himself regarding how the war shaped his vision of horror." THIS IS WHAT I'M SAYING. Look, I am generally death-of-the-author as hell and I think that Poole's reading of most of these films is a legitimate and valid reading. I just object to the idea that it's the only valid reading, especially when he never presents solid evidence other than his opinions about the films.

Petty nitpicking time: friends, I just watched every damn one of the Universal Invisible Man movies and there is no suggestion in any one of them that Griffin is “a disfigured scientist who seeks invisibility to hide his mutilated face". That's just wildly inaccurate. Poole loves facial disfiguration so much that he sees it in films where it does not appear at all. (Claude Rains as Griffin is visible for all of 10 seconds in the original film, his face is entirely unmarred and, frankly but irrelevantly, really lovely.)

Even pettier nitpicking: if you are going to make a snarky comment about people mistakenly referring to Frankenstein's assistant in Frankenstein and Bride as Ygor, it's going to come off better if you remember that the character in the original film is named "Fritz" and not "Karl". Karl is in Bride.

I will admit that I only skimmed the Afterword because, frankly, I've been reading this book at work and I got to it when we were about to close up and go home. Thus, I don't have anything to say about it.

In conclusion! This is not the most infuriating book about horror I've ever read, because Poole a) doesn't hate people who like horror and b) doesn't think that all horror stories are about incest. I disagree with a lot of his conclusions, but mostly because I think he's making too strong a case on too little evidence and I don't like anything that only allows for one reading of any work of art. I also found the structure irritating and I think parts of the book would be better if the scope was narrower - wandering off to talk about Surrealist painters or T S Eliot every damn chapter got old after a while.

It's absolutely not the book I would recommend for a first entry into horror film history - that's still Skal's The Monster Show. But, if you want some context for 1920/30s horror film, with a focus on European film, it's not a bad book to argue with or make film lists from.

And now I have to go track down Shell Shock Cinema by Anton Kaes, because it's the book in the works cited that sounded the most interesting.

[shihalyfie]

Something I'm curious to get your opinion on: I was reading a forum on With The Will on character archetypes, specifically on the "Sixth Ranger" trope in Digimon (like Hikari, Ken, Kouichi, Ikuto, Yuu, and Yuujin). There doesn't seem to be any consensus on who the sixth would be for Tamers; Ryou & Cyberdramon or Impmon. I use to say Ryou, but now I think Impmon fits best, since technically speaking Ryou isn't a Tamers character. I'm wondering what do you think.

The tl;dr answer: I don't think it has one in the first place.

The longer explanation: My stance towards things like archetypes is that one should make use of them "as long as they're helpful", and that it doesn't really help anything to get so obsessed with classifying the characters by archetype that you defeat the purpose of why you wanted to classify them to begin with. Archetypes help to compare characters, but if you're at the point of trying to force a square peg into a round hole just to say that this character counts as the archetype, at that point it might be better to accept that it was so outside the usual setup to begin with that it doesn't merit comparison. This is also why I tend to exclude Xros Wars a lot when trying to compare Digimon protagonist groups; it's not me wanting to be exclusionary, but rather me feeling that it wouldn't really be respecting Xros Wars' unique setup and way of organizing its characters if I tried to cram it into a structure it was deliberately made to not follow.

The concept of a "sixth ranger" comes from Super Sentai (and by extension Power Rangers), and it is undeniably true that Digimon's way of having teams with variations on the same power set takes a lot from Sentai, which is why situations like Hikari and Ken resemble the concept so much. But let's take a look at the explanation of "additional warrior" in the Sentai context as defined by Pixiv's wiki via the tenets you generally expect of one:

Was not present at the time of initial production announcement, or if they were, was not announced as part of the protagonist team

Usually shows up in the middle of the series in order to change things up once the tone has been set, although not always since it depends on toy sales schedule

Usually has different motives, origins, or powers from the original team

Usually causes some kind of drama dynamic with the rest of the team in terms of what happens when they try to integrate themself with them

…so as you can see, these tenets are looking at them in a broad, production-based or structural view instead of being too married to their role in the story. This is probably because Super Sentai has been running for so long with such variety in series that these kinds of production circumstances are the only thing these "additional warriors" have in common at this point. The concept has also carried over to Toei's magical girl series PreCure (known as "additional Cure"), with pretty much the exact same idea. But if you look at what's being suggested here with these points, the answer probably is Ryou; even if he's not originally from Tamers, the version seen in Tamers is functionally treated as a Tamers character, and in terms of having an ability set comparable in power and structure to the main cast, he checks off those boxes.

Obviously, that doesn't really make a lot of sense from a story perspective; as you said, Impmon has more relevance in Tamers' narrative, and this is what I think is an example of the limitations of trying to square-peg-round-hole an archetype and structure into something not built for it. Tamers already gets this with the question of who's the "rival"; I know people like to insist it's Ruki because she has a cold attitude and is associated with blue, but I think this also ignores the fact she never actually ends up establishing a particular dynamic with Takato in the way Jian does, and in the end the Tamers trio is really a trio (more on my ambivalent feelings about the "rival" concept here). And even with Ryou in play, unlike most Digimon media that's usually diligent about including their "additional warrior" in post-series merchandise, there's still quite a significant amount of modern Tamers merch that singles out the trio as a trio without anyone else, implying characters like Ryou and Impmon were more “guest helpers” than core members of their groups. So if you wanted my really honest answer about who the "sixth ranger" or "additional warrior" in Tamers is, it's that it simply doesn't have one nor does it have the Sentai structure to begin with to merit that comparison. Any potential response to this requires enough forcing that I feel it's missing the point.

On that note, I don't even feel like I agree with the concept of Yuu being of the sixth ranger/additional warrior archetype in Xros Wars either, considering he never truly "joined" the team until Hunters (where he was definitely announced in the initial production lineup). Xros Wars doesn't use the Sentai format to begin with. In fact, I get the impression Xros Wars is more significantly inspired by Toei's other series Kamen Rider (of which Xros Wars' head writer Sanjou Riku is known to have written some landmark entries of). I'll leave this more to the Rider experts reading this post to chip in on how they feel about it, but Rider doesn't typically use a "team" structure, with its individual Riders being more likely to simply have clashing ideologies of differing natures (there is a concept called the "Second Rider", which has had its own discourse, and its Xros Wars analogue would probably be Kiriha, but trying to force a comparison to Sentai would be messy because a Second Rider can be equivalent to a "rival" or an "additional warrior" depending on the series).

Personally, when I was a kid watching Digimon and wasn't incredibly good at analysis, I did make the observation "Digimon series really seem to like having a prominent character that starts off as an enemy but joins the protagonists later" (TV Tropes, invoking pro-wrestling lingo, calls this a "heel-face turn"). Even now, I find this to be more useful, because it's much more broad and less restrictive than the "sixth ranger" concept but still allows you to make ample comparisons between how each of these characters started off and under what circumstances they ended up turning. (In this case, the characters in question would be Tailmon, Ken, Impmon, Kouichi, Ikuto, all of Nene/Kiriha/Yuu but probably mostly Yuu, and Rei.) Even with characters who are clearly more of "sixth rangers" like Ken or Ikuto or Yuujin, the circumstances of how they join are often so different that comparisons aren't really all that useful and don't say as much about their characters. (Of course, this is just my way of seeing it to the very end, and I don't have any negative feelings about anyone else seeing more worth in it.)

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 12

the Darkling x Reader

The hour was late as the stars basked in the darkness and cold winter air. The fire roared in its hearth while your still steaming cup of sleep-aiding tea sat untouched on the small table. Your talk with Alina earlier was the cause of your unrest. You didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or be frustrated with her. She is a lovely girl, most pure and kind and quite literally the definition of sunshine, but something about her irked you and you hated it.

Maybe it was her somewhat unhealthy obsession with her friend, the tracker- Malyen Oretsev, or the sheer denial and lack of understanding of her position. Sure, Mal was the only thing that tied her to her old life, a sense of home, but he didn't belong anywhere near the Little Palace and posed a threat to Alina's true potential. She should understand that, no doubt it's been explained to her many times. She was no longer a random girl from the First Army or a Child of Keramzin, she was the Sun-Summoner and had to act the part.

But there was also a nagging feeling in you since your last words with Aleksander, the ones about the stag. From what you could gather, Alina definitely wasn't power-hungry, not yet anyway, and placing an antler anywhere on her would be against her wishes. You knew deep down that whatever he had planned would go far beyond just giving her an amplifier for her sake.

You sighed and moved around on the armchair again, trying to convince yourself those were the reasons you couldn't sleep, that Alina's position in this mess was why your mind wouldn't shut off, but who were you kidding, it was her and him. For starters, she called Aleksander by his name. The second the word left her mouth, your blood ran cold.

__

'Is he not here?' Alina looked to you from over her mug, eyes scanning the room.

'Who?'

'Aleksander, is he away at Kribirsk again?' Your smile faltered and your grip on your own mug loosened. But Alina waited for an answer.

'Oh umm, I don't know.' You did but the shock caused your mind to blank completely.

__

You had known Aleksander for years before he even told you his true name, you had to earn it. She spoke of her General with a fondness, at one point even speaking of him as if he were more than just her commanding officer.

__

'Do you miss the First Army Alina? I know you left friends behind, not just Mr.Oretsev.'

'I suppose I don't feel at home just yet, it's a lot to take in, this whole division of orders thing doesn't help either... But he assures me I am not alone, that I have an equal in the Palace.'

An equal?

__

The heat of the fire was doing nothing to calm down your rising rage. Apparently Aleksander was doing more talking with Alina than you'd thought, even sacrificing his own true name, one only spoken by you and his mother, for her to utter as if it was just another name. So what if you were in his chambers, making use of his office and sleeping in his bed, he clearly had his eyes on two prizes or maybe just one.

You felt sick now, be it from the heat or the anger, you got up and opened a window. The cold and dark night was a stark contrast to the licks of the flame. It made you feel at peace, but only momentarily. You heard voices outside, slowly growing louder. You rested your head against the wall, begging for one last moment of stillness, but alas the door was yanked open and his boots echoed throughout the room. You cursed yourself for deciding to spend another night in his quarters. You thought he'd be gone longer than just 4 days.

'I do hope you made yourself comfortable' His voice was as smooth as the kvas you had downed after Alina left. You wanted to turn around, but the anger was still there and all hell would break loose if you let your emotions run wild again.

'I did thank you. At least you have a desk'

'I'll get you one first thing in the morning'

'No need, I already requested one' Your voice was void of any emotion. Don't start a fight.

'Are you alright?'

'Just tired, being diplomatic is hard work' It sure was right now.

'Might I suggest actually getting into bed then?' His hand slowly came around your wrist and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom but ironically at the simple touch, your anger grew, when it usually has the opposite effect. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had a genuine smile on his face, one that tended to make you melt but not now. You shrugged him off and walked in the direction of the door, leaving him utterly confused.

'Y/N what's going on.

'I'm tired, I'm going to bed' You tried so hard to act normal, not in any way pissed.

'Y/N look at me'

'Goodnight Aleksander' You couldn't help it, the mockery of his name just came out. There goes the diplomacy.

You heard him quickly walk towards you and tried to get to the door first to escape the tense atmosphere you created but he got there first, blocking your way.

'What?' You threw your hands up in exasperation not yet looking at him.

'Did something happen whilst I was away?'

'No'

'Then what is it'

'Nothing'

'Don't lie to me Y/N'

'Oh but it's okay for you to lie to me' Your eyes finally bore into his.

'Excuse me?' His expression read baffled; annoyed; pissed.

'Move away from the door Aleksander'

'No! You're going to be mature and have an actual conversation with me for once' He asked for it.

'Alright fine, Let's start with Alina''

'Y/N'

'I had a lovely little tea party with her today. Sweet thing. She loves to talk once you get her going. She told me a lot of fascinating stuff, including your name! How interesting don't you think.' Your voice was so cold it even made you shiver.

'I can explain'

'I'm not finished.' You felt that pull in you, that pull that comes before you put your fire or shadows to use but crammed it down with all your might. 'Her best friend hasn't been replying to any of her letters and I can recount there are many of them. Guess what I found in one of your drawers? They are all very poetic don't you think? I'm all for helping her adjust, but that's not help, that's manipulation Aleksander.'

'She won't let him go, It's dragging her down.' He said through gritted teeth.

'Dragging her down or away?' The double meaning in your words didn't go unnoticed by him.

'Y/N all I want to do is go to bed right now, I've had a long day, please.' His hand reached out for yours but you scoffed and moved away.

'You wanted to have this conversation, General, don't shy away when your actions are questioned.'

'Fine' He unblocked the door and crossed the room, throwing his cloak and kefta on the floor with a heavy thud. 'Is there anything else you wish to accuse me of Y/N dearest?'

'Look at you, so bitter but I haven't heard you deny any of it'

'You may go now if you like.' He picked up a decanter of whiskey and poured himself a generous glass

'Since when are you this childish Aleksander. Have I missed something in my 100-year absence?' You mocked.

'You left me with all of this' He gestured to the palace. '-That's what happened.'

'Don't turn this around on me, and I told you that wasn't a choice.'

'The Y/N I knew would have come back and not hid like a coward'

You stilled and waited for any sign of apology, but it never came. He meant it even though he knew how much such a simple statement would hurt you. You turned slowly and walked to the door.

'While I'm gone, at least have the common decency to change the sheets before you bring Alina in here' you shut it loudly behind you and heard the breaking of the glass, no doubt thrown at the door as you were leaving.

What a day.

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

Ok so idk if people can see this but I posted this like a week ago and apparently nobody seen it so here it is!!!!

Part 13

Here's my masterlist!!

[anarmorofwords]

Hi! You're probably not going to like this ask, but before getting into it I'd just like to say that this isn't meant as Kamala hate or anything, and I don't really want to offend.

Having said that, wouldn't it make sense that we get to see how Kamala treated Anna after she came out? It's in all likelihood one of the things that's weighing on Anna the most.

Obviously Kamala had her valid reasons: her parents aren't as liberal as the Lightwoods, she believes (knows?) their love is conditional as she's adopted, she's not white and not being heterosexual could further any treatment she's suffered from being different... Her reasons have already been listed multiple times by multiple people. Kamala has the right to stay in the closet and fear coming out. And while that shouldn't be villianised, we can't forget that closeted people can harm those around them.

If Kamala had kept treating Anna like a good friend, rumour would've sparked, and even if it was denied, she'd have been harmed by merely associating with Anna. Especially with the life Anna began leading; she could have been labelled as one of Anna's 'conquests' by the Clave. That, as we've established, is detrimental for her safety.

But at the same time, it would create a breach between Anna and Kamala. And Anna had the right to be hurt by it and weary of it when Kamala said she wanted a relationship.

If we look at it from that perspective, Anna's actions (though inexcusable in how they treated Kamala --who was also at fault for not accepting a negative for four months) make sense. Kamala wasn't only a fling of a week*, but also the girl she lost her virginity with, who asked her to be her secret (until she married Charles, after which Anna's affections would be discarded), who hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna suffered from homophobic commentary, and who now wants a relationship hidden from most of the people that know her.

Kamala shouldn't be forced to come out; but the harm that can do to the women she may engage with is reflective of what happens nowadays. I can mostly think of examples with gay men, so my apologies in advance. But how many women have seen their marriages ruined by their husband having affairs with men?

Creating characters that reflect a toxic part of the 'hidden' LGBT community shouldn't be seen as hating or villinifying. Thomas isn't out and he isn't labelled a villain by the narrative --because his actions don't harm anyone. The hate Alastair gets in-universe is because of his past as a bully, not because he's gay. Matthew's not fully out and he isn't villianised --like Thomas, because the decisions he makes to keep his sexuality hidden don't impact anyone negatively.

I'll even go as far as saying that not even the narrative villianises characters like Kamala and Charles. If it were, they'd be seen more like Grace in Chain of Gold. We'd see how Kamala's actions are affecting Anna's in more ways than anger (that in itself put the fandom against Anna), and the characters would note so. We wouldn't see scenes were Cordelia empathised with Charles, nor Matthew said he loved him.

Be it as it may, Kamala and Charles represent ugly parts of being closeted that can naturally occur when someone is in their position. LGBT people are human. Humans, when put into very difficult situations (and Charles risks his career; Kamala her safety), can make decisions that harm those around them. Consequently, the people they're harming have a right to feel, well, harmed in whatever range of ways --this goes mostly for Alastair, and very partly for Anna, whose treatment of Kamala was horrible.

Readers need to understand what is pushing these 'villianised' characters to harm (again, mostly for Alastair) the more prominent characters and go beyond how they are instantly depicted. Because these are complex characters based on complex real people influenced by very ugly realities we will move on from someday, but sadly not yet.

By the way, Charles and Kamala's situations aren't that similar beyond the closeted thing, but I crammed them together because of a post I saw you reblog.

Please understand I'm not justifying Charles's actions; that I understand the pain he's put Alastair through, and know that he shouldn't ever be near Alastair. Nor am I trying to justify Anna's actions nor hate on Kamala.

I'll just finish my pointless rant by adding that I do think cc has sensitivity readers. I think she asked a gay man to go through tec (I don't know if he still revised her other books, though), and know she asked POC's input when writing someone for their culture. I don't know much beyond that, but I doubt who revises her stuff is up to her. Wouldn't that be something the publisher is responsible for (honest question)?

*I've also noticed people using the argument that they didn't know each other long enough for Anna to harbour such ugly emotions towards Kamala, but Kamala also remembered Anna pretty deeply and is 'in love' with her. I just wanted to say that considering cc writes (fantastical) romance where someone can ask a woman they met two months ago marriage, stressing over time spaces doesn't make much sense. Just my take.

hi!!

alright, where do I start? probably would be best with stating that while I can analyse Kamala's situation with what I know/see/read about racism and discrimination and reasonably apply things I've read/heard from PoC to the discussion, as well as try to be as sensitive about it as possible, I'm still a white woman, so not a person that's best qualified to talk about this.

that being said - if someone wants to add something to this conversation, you're obviously more than welcome to, and if there's something in my answer that you don't agree with or find in some way insensitive or offensive - please don't hesitate to call me out on that.

back to your points though: (this turned into a whole ass essay, so under the cut)

I don't think Anna shouldn't be able to reminiscent on Kamala's behaviour/reaction to her coming out, or be hurt by it. what bothers me is the way CC talks about it - I can't remember the exact phrasing, but the post where she mentioned this suggested something along the lines of "you'll see how Kamala sided with the Clave and didn't defend Anna after her coming out", therefore putting the blame on Kamala and completely disregarding the fact that Kamala wasn't in position to do much at all. It suggest that their situation was "poor Anna being mistreated by Kamala". therefore I'm afraid Kamanna's main problem/conflict will remain to be portrayed as "Anna having to allow themselves to love again and forgive Kamala", while Anna's shortcomings - and Kamala's vulnerable position - are never discussed. I think it would be possible to acknowledge both Kamala's difficult situation and the possible hurt her behaviour caused Anna without being insensitive towards Kamala's character, but it would take a really skilled - and caring - author to do both of the perspectives justice. CC would have to find a balance between being aware of the racism/prejudice Kamala faced/ writing her with lots of awareness and empathy, and still allowing her to make mistakes and acknowledging them. As it is however, I'm under impression that she's just treating it as a plot device, a relationship drama.

I'd say no one expects characters of color to be written as flawless or never making mistakes, it's mostly the way these mistakes are written and what things these characters are judged/shamed/

And that's - at least in my understanding and opinion - where the problem is. it's that the narrative never even addresses Anna's faults, and portrays Kamala as the one that caused all - or most of - the pain, without ever even acknowledging her problems and background.

White characters in TLH make mistakes and fuck up - because they're human and they're absolutely allowed to - but the thing is, non-white characters aren't afforded that privilege. Anna's behaviour is never questioned - none of it, shaming Kamala for not being able to come out, dismissing her desire to be a mother, or any of the questionable things she did in ChoI. Same with Matthew, James, Thomas. Alastair and Kamala however? they're constantly viewed through their past mistakes, and forced to apologize for them over and over, forced to almost beg for forgiveness. Moreover, those past mistakes are used as a justification of all and any shitty behaviour the other characters exhibit towards them now, which is simply unfair and cruel. They're held to a much higher standard.

So I'd like to say that yes, Kamala was in the wrong to keep nagging Anna after numerous rejections, and she was in the wrong to not inform Anna about Charles prior to them having sex - but that doesn't give Anna a free pass to constantly mistreat Kamala. And let's be real, Anna isn't stupid - while at 17 she could be naive and uninformed, I can't imagine how after years of hanging out with the Downworlders and numerous affairs and being out and judged by the Clave she's still so ignorant about Kamala's situation. I definitely think she's allowed to be hurt, but to still not understand why Kamala did what she did? Anna isn't blaming her for not telling her about Charles earlier - which would be fair - but instead for refusing to engage in an outright romance with her. She's being ignorant - and consciously so, I think.

Overall, I think you're definitely right about how coming out - or staying closeted - can be messy and hurt people in the process, especially in unaccepting environments/time periods, and I've seen enough discourse online to know there will never be a verdict/stance on this that will satisfy everyone. I, for one, would really like to refrain from putting all the blame on a single person - but, at least the way I see it, CC is pointing fingers. maybe not directly, but she is. Kamala, Alastair and Charles have no friends or support systems, and the only people in the narrative that defend them are themselves (ok, Cordelia does defend Alastair from Charles, but not from shitty takes about him and his "sins"). Also, sorry, but I don't like how you say "hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna experienced homophobic comments" - it sounds very much judgemental. Kamala had every right to do that? The fact that she slept with Anna doesn't means she owed her something, and certainly not coming out and most probably destroying her life, or even defending her at the - again - expense of her own reputation, or more possibly safety.

As for Charles - it's a different issue here, at least imo - I fear that it'll be implied that his refusing to come out will is his main "sin", and therefore not something he can be judged for, which ironically, will be villainizing, but mostly will mean his actual sins are dismissed. This is where the scene with Cordelia feeling a pang of sympathy for him comes into play, and it worries me. I've never hated Charles for not wanting to come out, but rather for, let's see - grooming Alastair, disregarding Alastair's needs and feelings, disrespecting his mother, being a sexist prick, being low-key far-right coded "make Shadowhunters great again" etc.

As for sensitivity readers - I'm no expert, so I don't think my input is worth much. From what I've gathered from multiple threads/discussions on twitter, tho it is probably consulted/approved by the publisher, many authors push for that - and authors less famous and "powerful" than her. I'm not a hater, but seeing fandoms' opinions on much of her rep, I think she could do better. Because if she does have sensitivity readers, then they don't seem to be doing a great job - maybe they're friends who don't wanna hurt her feelings? Or maybe she thinks a gay guy's feedback will be enough for any queer content - which, judging by the opinions I've seen from the fans, doesn't seem to be true.

Again, these are mostly my thoughts and I'm more than open to reading other opinions, because *sigh* I really don't know how to handle this.

Bottom line - I really really don't want to be hating on the characters in general, playing God in regards to judging the struggles of minorities, or even criticising the characters too harshly for being human, flawed etc. What my main issue is is how CC handles those complex and heavy topics.

I hope I make sense and this answer satisfies you somehow - I also hope someone better equipped to answer might wanna join this conversation.

* I desperately need a reread of TLH before I engage in any more conversations like this, but I didn't wanna leave you hanging. So yeah, I might be remembering things wrong. Again, let me know, I'm very much open to being corrected as well as to further discussion.

* I use she/her pronouns for Anna because that's what she uses in canon

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Summary: Winry sat in the optimal place to study in the school cafe for the entire fall semester. Then spring came, and suddenly some self-entitled twit who dressed like off-brand Gerard Way decided it was his territory. He was so not going to get off easy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.8k words of coffee shop/college AU with a side of enemies to almost-lovers

A/N: It's finals week, I posted this on Ao3 at almost 5am, and if the rest of the sentence didn't make it obvious, I'm writing from unfortunate experience. Not beta-ed or proofread, although I happened to see one thing to fix when I woke up this morning. Feel my raw power. Rawr.

It wasn't that big a deal.

It kind of really was, though.

Every Thursday morning during the fall semester, Winry sat in the same spot at the same school coffee shop. It was the spot sent by the entire patron pantheon of cram papers. Maybe one person didn't need an entire booth, but it was in the corner, and the tops of the bench seats had opaque plastic barriers that just so happened to be perfect for minimizing excess visual chaos. For the most part, there weren't loud conversations, and the jazz music that came through the speakers helped her tune out people ordering coffee. Add to that the fact that she could use campus flex dollars and not her own bank account that was begging for mercy, and it was the perfect spot to get papers done.

But apparently not this spring.

As soon as Winry walked in, she noticed him in the corner. Some emo wannabe guy on his computer. Probably on Reddit complaining about how women didn't appreciate the amazing pics he sent them on Tinder. Or at least, it was a fair guess based on the sour look on his face. Why did this guy of all people have to steal the holy grail spot? Ugh. She was still gonna get her coffee, darn it.

"You know the deal, Sciezska. Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer."

"On it! You paying in flex?"

"Yeah." She scanned her student ID and lowered her voice. "Who's off-brand Gerard Way in the corner?"

"Who's Ger—"

"The punk kid."

"Ohhh. I can try to get his number for you, if you want."

"No, he looks like a total tool! And not the kind I like dealing with!"

"Which means you think he's hot. I didn't think you were into that type, but you're not wrong."

"For the last time, no, Sciezska! He took my spot! And I'm trying very, very hard to keep this to a stage whisper, but if you keep trying to set me up with some random creep, I won't be able to!"

A distinctly male voice grumbled, "I'm not a creep."

"Keep telling that to the girls on Tinder. I'm sure they'll understand eventually."

"Yeah, and I'll bet if you look at your 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign a little more, you'll understand it eventually." He mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Mr. Nice Guy?"

"Lay off, it's eight in the morning. I said the only reason I even have a Tinder account is because my roommate stole my phone while I was going to the bathroom."

"Well, if you didn't want it, why didn't you delete it?"

"Eh, I figured if I really got sick of being single one day, it'd already be there."

"Never would have guessed you were single," Winry said dryly.

"Come on, it's way too early to be rubbing that kind of crap in. Who says I'm not fine with being single anyway?"

Sciezska timidly spoke up. "Medium roast with espresso and vanilla creamer?"

Winry thanked her as red jacket boy continued. "'Edward Elric, Bachelor.' Almost sounds as good as 'Edward Elric, Bachelor of Science.'"

"B.S. degree. Sounds about right."

"About time you stopped acting like I'm an idiot!"

Winry snorted. "That's not what I meant."

"Hey!"

"And with that, I'm going to go find some other spot to write my paper."

Edward, as his name apparently was, scoffed and mumbled something that sounded like "good riddance". Maybe the librarians wouldn't get on her case too much for bringing in coffee.

-----

A week later, Winry walked into the cafe, assuming the circumstances of the previous week were an anomaly. They were not.

"Medium roast with a shot of espresso and vanilla creamer," she grumbled and sulked in the direction of the corner seat.

"Hey, don't start with me again, blondie. I've had a whopping four hours of sleep and I can't promise you'll like what comes out of my mouth."

"We're at a coffee shop. Get some coffee. I can't help it if you're too hung over to be polite."

"Now look, genius. I did not stay up until 4 A.M. working on a stupid chem paper for that sadistic pyromaniac excuse for a professor just for some random chick to accuse me of being hung over."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And for your information, coffee doesn't really help me wake up. It just helps me focus on homework." He lifted up his empty cup and gave it a shake.

"That's the weirdest thing I've ever heard."

"ADHD is a weird thing, and yet, here I am."

"Huh, interesting."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to pick up where I left off with the same stupid ten page paper I started last night."

"Oh right. Sure," Winry stammered. "Listen, I'm really sorry I just assumed things about you. It was wrong of me, and I'd like to make it up to you, if that's okay."

Edward eyed her suspiciously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well...I could look over your paper once you're done writing it? I've got a paper of my own to write while I'm waiting, and I can sit right across the table here so you don't have to come get me. I won't try to talk to you or anything. Neither of us need that kind of distraction."

"Alright, alright. Get your coffee and sit down. The girl at the counter's been up there waiting for a good minute or two while you've been at confessional over here."

"Wait, she has?" Winry's eyes widened, and Edward laughed at her expense. He was kind of attractive when he wasn't scowling...wait what? She pouted and got up to retrieve her coffee. When Winry returned, she plopped down on the bench opposite Edward and opened her laptop. Peeking out from behind it, she added, "By the way, I'm Winry. I figured you ought to at least know the name of the person who's proofreading your paper."

"Well, Winry, you're the one who volunteered." The corners of his mouth twitched upward. The two worked on their assignments in silence, occasionally speaking up when necessary.

-----

Edward was in the corner again the next week as well.

"Hey, Edward! Mind if I join you for homework again?"

"Normally, I'd say no, but you didn't bother me too much last week, so you might as well." He turned away slightly.

"Great! Have you gotten your coffee yet? I didn't see a cup, and you got something the last two times."

"Eh, I haven't been here long. If you're going up and getting yours, would you mind ordering a caramel macchiato for me?" He asked, sliding his ID across the table.

"Yeah, no problem. I'll be back in a sec."

She returned and slipped his ID back before pulling out her computer. "Do you have anything for me to look over this time?"

"Not this week. But if you have anything you need looked over, I can do that, too."

"Actually, I do, if you wouldn't mind."

"Winry, I just volunteered. Just send the paper to my school email. Mine's 'elricedwa'," he instructed as he proceeded to spell it.

"Medium roast and a caramel macchiato?" Sciezska called out.

"Coming!" Winry replied and turned to Edward. "I just sent it, so you should be able to start while I'm getting our stuff." Eyes glued to his laptop, Edward gave a thumbs up.

Once she returned with their drinks, Winry sat down and wordlessly set Edward's drink next to him.

"Thanks," he muttered distantly. His lips mirrored the words he was reading. Though his lips weren't plump by any stretch of the imagination, they were shapely. His steely concentration made the air leave Winry's lungs. To top it all off, the first rays of sunlight came through the window just right, hitting Edward's hair in a way that made it positively glow.

What was she thinking? Those were only the sorts of things people thought when they had a crush. She'd only had two positive interactions with him, including this one. ...well, maybe it was a crush. She could certainly do worse than someone with a questionable fashion sense. After all, he worked hard, and he got good grades, if the quality of his writing was any indication. Okay, fine. He was also drop dead gorgeous, if you could see past his clothing choices. Yeah, she had a crush.

"Did you hear anything I just said?"

"...no."

"Figures. I finished reading your paper. It's not bad, I just left a few suggestions for sentence structure. Now I am going to enjoy my caramel macchiato." He took off the lid and breathed in the steam with his eyes closed, nearly drooping into the cup in content. When he opened his eyes slowly, Winry was awestruck by the similarity between the color of his eyes and his drink.

"What?" Edward furrowed his eyebrows.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything. At all. Nope."

"Okay." He shrugged. She reopened the document and went through his suggested edits. Gnawing her lip in concentration, she leaned forward a bit to settle in and tackle the editing.

"...hey, uh, Winry?" Edward gulped. "Are you going to drink your coffee?"

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. Thanks, Edward!" she smiled.

"No–no problem. And you can call me Ed, you know. Most people do. Except for that excuse for a professor that calls me pipsqueak. Can you believe he's my advisor? I mean, come on, I'm a grown man. I'm not that short."

Winry made a poor attempt at containing her laughter. "Okay then, Ed. Prove it. Stand up."

"Fine." He slid out of the booth and stood. Winry followed suit and appraised their respective heights.

"Well, I'd hardly call you tall, but you're at least taller than me by a few inches, for whatever that's worth."

Edward grinned as if he had won some sort of prize. "Time for shorties to sit down now!"

"Watch it now. You're not too far from that label yourself, mister."

They both returned to their positions in the booth and worked steadily for the next hour. At the end of that time, Winry closed her laptop. "Ed, are you okay? You seem distracted."

"ADHD. I'm always distracted," he dismissed.

"No, like, are you sick or something? You did get more than four hours of sleep this time, right?"

"No comment." Ed's mouth twitched. He mumbled barely loud enough to hear, "Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well, I can drive you over to the health center."

"N-no. That's not it." He exhaled, then slid a napkin across the table. His hands trembled slightly. "Anyway, here's my number. In case you need me to look over a paper. Or whatever. I've got a class soon."

Winry blushed, but tucked the napkin in her laptop. "Thanks, Ed. See you next week?"

"Yeah. Next week."

-----

Winry: This goes with your major, right?

Edward: Blocked

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: An interview titled “Anime and Author.” It reads:

“What did you feel when you heard that Howl was to become an animated film?

One of my main feelings, when anything I write is adapted for another medium, is astonishment at how many people it takes to do it. Film, play or dance are all essentially team projects. This realisation is followed by amazement at the way every detail is subjected to huge attention: a sort of "If I'd known you were going to have take all this trouble, I wouldn't have made it so complicated!" This guilty feeling is, if I'm lucky, followed by delight. A quite different work of art has been created on a basis provided by me.

It is a fact that a book has to be altered in order to come over on screen or on the stage. A book can give you the inside of a person: all other media can only give you the outside.

Did you have any input into the making of the film?

Some very serious people from Japan came to talk to me about the book. They were very interested in knowing exactly where Ingary was, so they could go and look at it and use it as background for the film. They had trouble believing me when I told them I'd made it up. They insisted I sent them somewhere, so I suggested Exmoor and some towns in Essex. But they wouldn't go there. They went to Cardiff instead, which was quite wrong.

Did you like the film?

I thought it was wonderful. It was rich and strange, and the animation was beautiful. I've loved Miyazaki's work for many years, long before I knew he was going to make a film of my book. When we eventually met, I found that he understands my books in a way that no one else has ever done.

He did of course introduce his favourite obsessions into the film. He has to have flying machines! He crammed the story full of flying machines and war scenes on the very thin basis that the King in my book was planning a war. Miyazaki and I were both children in World War II and we seem to have gone opposite ways in our reactions to it. I tend to leave the actual war out (we all know how horrible wars are), whereas Miyazaki (who feels just the same) has his cake and eats it, representing both the nastiness of a war and the exciting scenic effects of a big bombing raid. But the faint miffed feeling I had about this was very much smaller than the sheer awe I felt knowing that large numbers of people had spent several years painstakingly drawing and painting every frame in a long movie.

Which parts did you especially like?

I loved the hat shop, even though you don't see much of it. And the breakfast scene where they cook bacon and eggs on Calcifer's head. But one of the best scenes in the film is where Sophie and the Witch of the Waste are climbing an immense flight of marble stairs, panting and shouting insults at each other, while Sophie is carrying the dog. It's like a dream and a nightmare, and it's very funny.

Were the characters as you imagined them? Howl is less of a drama queen in the film, and more of a hero. I thought Calcifer was wonderful. He wasn't quite like I describe him, but still wonderful. And Sophie was very well done, especially as the film went on. Although she was an old woman, she gradually began to move more and more like a young girl.

The Witch of the Waste is partly based on one of my more formidable aunts. Oddly enough, the way the Witch is portrayed in the film looks very like her. She even wears the same clothes!

What about the castle?

When I first saw the castle, I thought, "This wasn't the castle I wrote." But I liked that it had its own distinct and often quite threatening personality. It was funny and frightening, and a bit vulnerable, the way bits fell of it. My castle was tall and thin and made of black blocks. A bit like living inside a chimney. But Miyazaki obviously likes more detail and translated it into a thing of fantasy.”

I keep seeing posts about the differences between the book and the Ghibli adaptation of Howl's Moving Castle, and honestly there's a totally charming interview with Diana Wynne-Jones at the end of the kindle edition about how it worked :)

[elephant-in-the-pride-parade]

I wouldnt mind if that was all we got, personally. But then again, I psyched myself up to get nothing so that even a little bit of something would be amazing. And at first, I did wonder if the kind of J/C we got in Resolutions would be the best we got in the new show.

But heres the thing... every appearance of Original!Janeway so far has made me more confident that we're going to get more than veiled suggestions and perplexing series finale character 180s.

(I can't do the read more line on mobile so sorry in advance this is gonna be a long post) TLDR: The show creators wouldn't be wasting time on calling out Janeway's feelings for Chakotay if that wasn't important to further events in her character arc.

Something I've been keeping in mind as I watch Prodigy: It isn't for fans of Voyager (I mean yes in a way it is because thats who's gonna pay the P+ subscriptions and do all the stupid work for the kids of keeping track of when things are airing) but the show's primary audience is Kids Who've Never Seen Voyager.

So looking at it through that lens: every scrap of information or animation of Original!Janeway that the show creators can fit into her scenes matters. Kids watching the show are only going to have those clues to help them see Janeway as a full-fledged character. And what do they know about her so far?

1. She hates tea

2. She commands a fucking bamf of a starship

3. Shes got feelings for the missing captain of the Protostar, which are major enough to nearly start war with the Romulans

4. Her primary motivation as a character in the show thus far is looking for that missing captain, Chakotay.

Turning to how much she matters to this specific show, Original!Janeway has gotten as much if not more screen time than Diviner did in episodes where he was the only antagonist and it looks like for both she and Diviner the show creators are giving them enough screen time and enough complexity for both of them to have hefty character arcs (as opposed to Drednok or murder planet or the Tal Shiar who're just simple villains for the children to fight).

Prodigy has a lot of characters it is trying to develop and an epic amount of plot to cram into each 20 min. episode. They're not going to waste precious dialogue or character animation teasing shippers. They just don't have room. Everything Original!Janeway says and every animation she has matters to how kids perceive her character and how her character arc progresses. So far the creators are spending as much or more time emphasizing Janeway's feelings as they are spending on Dal's developing feelings for Gwyn (and he and Gwyn are the actual main characters the fact that I know less about an MCs feelings for an other than a side character's is really telling about their relative importance to the plot). That tells me the Janeway/Chakotay relationship is a critical piece of her character arc in Prodigy. They need kids watching the show to get this about her early so that those characters motivations and possible future reunion/interactions make sense and feel rewarding later. if they wanted her to have a different primary motivation, then they needed to lay the ground work on it waaay before now.

Original!Janeway's interaction with Dal in Crossroads also gave a big suggestion about what her deeper character motivation might be (and gave me a major boost to my confidence that theyre gonna go somewhere with this.) Paraphrasing: Dal says, "Haven't you ever been afraid to say something because youre nervous about screwing it up" and she says "Yes". if this show were Voyager and largely episodic i wouldn't read too much into that line. But it's Prodigy, every episode the characters appear in is building on the one before, and they have half as much time per season to make characters matter to me... so yah I'm totally reading a lot into that line. A Moral Star gave us Janeway's motivation: shes out here looking for Chakotay. Crossroads and Masquerade just fleshed that out: She has some typa feelings for him and there might be things she hasnt said or done about those feelings yet because shes afraid of screwing things up.

As a shipper who's seen Voyager: if what we are getting thus far in Prodigy is as far as they go developing a J/C relationship... thats honestly A. more than I was expecting and B. more about Janeway's feelings for him than Voyager ever confirmed. I'm over the moon already from her XO and her boss and her facial expressions confirming theres major feelings on her side. But I honestly do think after seeing Crossroads that we're gonna get more than that. I don't even feel like this is me being optimistic. This show has had mostly wonderful plot writing thus far and wonderful character development. It would be just... pointless to spend so much of Original!Janeway's screen time on her feelings for a character we haven't even seen on screen yet (i dont count the holograms) if some evolution or further development in that relationship wasn't going to be important to the plot.

Other things making me optimistic: Creators could have explained her motives differently based on her previous canon - guilt that someone who helped her get home the first time is once again missing in the DQ, loyalty to her former crew, guilt that a subordinate is missing on a mission she authorized. anger that a ship she helped create is stolen ... they had room to set it up that way and they didnt. They went with "personal feelings for the captain" ... So yeah... 🥳 I'm feeling hopeful and excited for where theyre taking us in Prodigy.

In my feelings about the near constant mention of janeway’s feelings for chakotay in Prodigy………..tell me how extensive those feelings are pls don’t be shy I have all the time in the world