#wow it's the first time I've written an essay

[anixknowsnothin]

I think one thing I appreciate the most is the humanising of Luke in the series. I have never been a Luke defender, nor did I ever believe his actions were justified but after watching the last episode, I feel bad for him. I mean that guy saw his family break apart because of the gods and when he needed support, the gods were never there. Charlie's expressions convey all the emotions the book couldn't because the book was in Percy's point of view. Yet we still see Hermes' perspective and Poseidon's perspective. They felt that they didn't have a choice but to be a dead-beat dad because that's what the gods were expected to do. And that's the beauty of the show. It offers so much more than the book could offer because these talented actors, script writers, Rick and everyone behind this show brought this beloved childhood series to life and add their own personal touch. So I'm not really mad about the changes. Would I have loved to see some of the scenes that were cut like Gladiola? Yes. But am I sad about the show or find it terrible? Absolutely not. It is amazing to see the one series that is the closest to my heart come to life, with a few changes. Plus the feeling of knowing a whole new generation of demigods are going to grow up watching the show, and how it's going to spark so many people's interest in greek mythology is truly unbeatable <3 People say this is going to be the next Harry Potter, but I always knew it was going to be better. (not sorry guys, I ALWAYS preferred pjo to hp)

[itsbeeble]

LET LOOSE

SUMMARY: Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

GENRE: smut, fluff, angst, crack

PAIRING: Kim Younghoon x afab!reader (ft. eric)

WC: 5.3K

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: Swearing, public sex, floor sex, academic rivals that everyone knows secretly want to fuck, enemies to lovers, missionary (that's a first wow), sexual references, mentions of alcohol, insults (not sexual), arguments, pining, mentions of killing someone as a joke, dry humping for like two seconds, making out, mentions of marking, mentions of oral, guys i think this is the least slutty fic I've written for this series, y/n is stuck in a perpetual state of denial, let me know if I missed anything but i think that's it

A/N: Everyone allow me to introduce Doll's less-slutty cousin!! I can't believe we're over halfway through this collab omg. I'm really glad people are loving this and I hope you guys have been catching the easter eggs me and Fawn have been throwing into our fics 😏

If anyone asked you what you thought of when you thought of local star student, heartthrob, and frat boy Kim Younghoon, you would scoff and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I hate him,” you would say, your lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed until they were practically touching. “I hope his house burns to the fucking ground.” 

One would think this was a gross overreaction, that you probably held a grudge over something stupid, or that he killed your dog or maybe he copied off your essay but made it seem like you were the one who plagiarized. And oh, how that would’ve been much simpler. 

The true story, however, goes all the way back—

“Thinking about me again?” A hand cracks down on the desk in front of you, your mind and body jerking back to reality. 

There he is, you think to yourself, the bane of my fucking existence. Your teeth are already grinding together, your grip tightening around the pencil you’d been using to write your notes and all he’s doing is standing there with a stupid fucking smirk. 

“Why would I be thinking of you?” You bite out and Younghoon places a hand over his heart in mock hurt.

“Ouch, sweetheart.” Your body stiffens and your face contorts with disgust at the nickname.

“Don’t call me that, douchebag.” Younghoon sighs dramatically, dropping down to be at eye level with you. 

“So cruel to me,” a pout, and then he’s smirking again. “What if I was into that, sweetheart?” 

You might throw up.

“What do you want?” you groan, noting how other students have begun to flood out of the lecture hall while you’re putting your things away. Younghoon shrugs, rising to his feet at the same time as you. Had you been a weaker woman, his height would’ve had your knees wobbling and your panties hitting the ground but, fortunately, you were a strong woman. Some of your friends couldn’t relate to that despite your very clear and very much valid hatred for him. 

“I just wanted to see what you were up to,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back onto his heels. “Considering that we’re now partners for this assignment.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, your eyes widen, and your cheeks are fighting between going pale and burning bright as a tomato.

“What are you— what do you mean we’re partners?” You echo, and his smirk only widens. Your shoulder bashes into his arm while you make your way to the front of the lecture hall where the list of partners is posted. He trails behind you, long legs making it easy to keep pace despite how impossibly fast you seem to walk.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He sounds too excited about this, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing him by the neck and choking him where he stands. “We get to work together for the whole semester!”

“I still don’t see how this is a problem,” Dawon tells you her tongue running over her lip as she watches you pace the length of your dorm suite’s lounge area. “Isn’t he, like, super hot? And smart?”

Your lip curls into a sneer and you whip your body around to look at her.

“He is not hot,” your voice has raised in pitch, your arms waving frantically. “He’s— he’s stupid and— and annoying, and he doesn’t know how to shut up, and his face— oh his face is just so— so—”

“Kissable?” Suyeon offers when she makes her way over with a steaming mug of tea. 

“I think rideable is a better word,” Dawon grins at the way your jaw drops at the two of them. 

“He does have a very rideable—”

“Okay, enough!” You snap, your face beginning to burn bright red in anger.

“Ooh she’s blushing!” Suyeon giggles and your face only burns brighter. 

“You both are insufferable,” you throw yourself back onto the couch, your head turned toward the ceiling. “Kim Younghoon is annoying, stuck up, and his face is not kissable or rideable.” 

“So you’re saying you’ve thought about it before?” Suyeon presses and you roll your eyes.

“Hell no. Why would I think about that?”

“Because he’s your mortal enemy and everyone ends up fucking their mortal enemy at some point.”

“Plus he’s a yummy, scrumptious, daddy cupcake.”

“Ugh, so true Dawon.” Suyeon squeezes your roommate’s hand, the two of them grinning deviously at each other.

“That’s— did you just call him— No, that’s not the point. The point is, that’s not true!” You lift your head, eyes wide with horror. “That only happens in books!”

“Not just books,” Suyeon raises her mug to her lips with a hint of a smirk on her face. “Didn’t you hear about the KAT and TBZ presidents?” 

“Oh my god, Eric told me about that!” Dawon gasps. “Apparently they—”

“I don’t need to know the details of their sex lives.” You interrupt again. “God, you two are just…”

“Don’t you just love us?” Dawon winks at you, and you wrinkle your nose in distaste.

“Let’s not go that far.” Her lips twist, and the three of you go quiet for a moment. 

“Why do you even hate him?” 

Ah, there it is. The same question everyone had been asking since the day you started at this school. 

Why do you hate Kim Younghoon? 

“It’s complicated,” you tell them what you always say. You tell them that it’s nothing they should be concerned about. He knows what he did.

“Then uncomplicate it.” Suyeon is much softer than Dawon, her eyes furrowed but not with the mild irritation Dawon has. It’s more…concern than anything else, and for a moment you think about telling them. Think about dropping your petty act, let them know exactly what about Younghoon bothers you so much. 

You open your mouth, and the two girls in front of you lean forward expectantly, practically on the edge of the tiny couch that had been squeezed into the suite.

“I can’t.”

“That isn’t going to work, sweetheart.” Younghoon says, waltzing up to you after your failed attempt to talk your professor into letting you change partners or work alone. Your shoulders are slumped in defeat, something that Younghoon seems to laugh at. “You���re stuck with me.”

“I really hate you, Kim Younghoon.” You lift your head, wanting so desperately to glare at him but you can only find the strength to stare blankly. He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?” 

“Who cares? It’s true.” 

You want to scream. You want to throw your body onto the ground and throw a tantrum, to cry and whine, to kick and punch the air—anything to get out of this situation. 

“All this because I got a better grade than you in one class in high school.” Younghoon shakes his head, his hair falling into his face and obscuring his eyes partially. Your heart thuds against your ribcage (because of the memory, obviously). 

“You really think that’s the only reason I hate you?” Hint: he’s right for once. Would you ever tell him that? No. As far as he knows, you have endless reasons to hate him. As long as he lives, that list will grow. In fact, it would be better if he knew that you’d be pissed if he died before you because that means he tried to escape one last competition, but you’d hate it even more if he died after you because that means he would win one last time.

“That’s all I can think of,” he shrugs and you kiss your teeth. 

“Disappointing me again, douchebag.” He scoffs at that.

“Of course I am. When am I not upsetting you about some bullshit?” 

Oddly, this time you don’t answer him. At least you don’t give him an answer to that question. 

“Listen, Kim Younghoon,” you place a hand on your hip, shifting your weight to lean mostly on one leg. He leans toward you a bit, slightly angling his head as if trying to hear you better. “You’re the most annoying, egotistical, snobbish boy I’ve ever met. You always have this, like, need to be better than me— than everyone.” 

Younghoon inhales, his eyebrows knitting together and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. You can see the irritation in his gaze, can see him fighting the urge to snap at you and it has your stomach churning. When he finally responds, it’s not exactly what you expected. You thought he would snap back at you, tell you to go fuck yourself, to call you the same insults you just called him.

He doesn’t.

“Meet me in the library at 4 o’clock.” Your head jerks back, your nose wrinkling with confusion. 

“Excuse me?” Younghoon just smiles coyly, already turning away from you.

“Don’t you wanna get this project done so you don’t have to deal with me?” He can practically see the wheels turning in your brain, contemplating all your options. 

“I mean yeah, but how do you know if I’m even free—”

“You’re always at the cafe at the same time as me,” Younghoon glances down at you, stepping to the side as he pushes open the door of the lecture hall. You say nothing as you push by him. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not— I would never— how—” You sputter, stumbling over your words and waving your hands in the air while you try to come up with something to say. Something to deny. Younghoon begins to smile again, coy and near-mocking. 

“I don’t hear you actively denying anything.” His eyes widen and he bends forward, lowering his face to be near yours. Your cheeks are heating up, your mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. Words. You need words. Why is nothing coming out?

“Shut the hell up, douchebag.” He laughs and your stomach churns again. Is he laughing at you?

“I’ll see you at 4, sweetheart.” Younghoon starts to reach his hand toward you as he leans up, but thinks better of it and drops it back to his side. 

“Yeah, sure,” you scoff and turn your back to him.

Fucking prick.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You toss a stack of papers onto the table you’re sitting at, glaring at the notes Younghoon wrote on the whiteboard. He’d rented a study room for a few hours, giving you time to start working. 

Or, at least, try to start working. You had made no promises about not trying to kill him and making it so neither of you could get any work done. Although, you had thought about running him over with your car so that you would have an excuse to work on this alone.

The blinds over the door had been shut, blocking anyone from looking in and potentially seeing you try to kill a man. Lucky for you.

“What’s so wrong with what I wrote?” He squints at the board and you push yourself out of the old, creaky chair you’d been sitting in. 

“It’s contradictory!” You complain, reaching around him for the eraser. He grabs your hand before you can do anything, turning on you with a scathing glare. 

“It’s not, though!” 

His grip tightens on your wrist when you pull it away. You narrow your eyes, but he doesn’t waver at all. There’s heat behind his gaze, heat that makes you nervous. You know he won’t hurt you, that’s not who he is. The heat though…that makes you nervous. It’s the same heat you’d felt several times in the past few weeks. 

“Let me go, Kim Younghoon.” He leans his head toward yours and your throat begins to close, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Not until you tell me why it’s contradictory!” He snaps. You swear your ears start to ring, your vision closing in until all you can see is Younghoon. 

“It’s— why does it matter so much to you?” His grip finally loosens and you rip away from him with a huff. 

“Because you’re putting down my work! Again!” He flings his hands into the air and you bite your tongue. “Why do you hate me so much?”

A lump in your throat, tears in your eyes, and Younghoon drops your hand. He looks defeated, his shoulders slumping and his lips set into a deep frown. 

“I just,” Younghoon sits in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. You stand in the middle of the study room, hands by your sides and your eyes flicking around nervously. Your posture is so tense compared to his, your eyes flitting around anxiously. “I’m tired of this shit. Not knowing what the fuck I did wrong. You never give me a reason and, at first, I was fine with it. I liked the casual rivalry. But now I’m just…it’s been four years, and I still don’t know what I did.”

“Choi Yuna.” It comes out fast, the name of your ex-best friend. So fast that Younghoon doesn’t catch it, he just stares at you with a look of pure confusion.

“What?”

You say her name slower this time, tugging at the edge of your shirt. “Choi Yuna, you dated her from freshman year until late sophomore year.” 

“Okay, yeah,” he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. “What does she have to do with this?” 

Your cheeks are burning, and you know he can see it. See how flustered you are.

“She was my best friend.” You bite on your tongue, trying to find the right words. 

“I know,” he said, and you purse your lips. “She talked about you all the time.”

“That’s funny,” you scoff, a spark of anger returning to your tone and to your facial features. “Considering she’s the reason I hated you for so long.”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?” Younghoon huffs, rubbing at his eyes with his palms. You can tell he’s frustrated, so you speak quicker.

“She— she knew that I liked you.” His eyes snap up, wide and bulging. “She knew that I wanted to ask you out in freshman year, so she made sure to get there first. I— at first I thought that you knew that’s why she did it.”

“You thought that I knew your best friend wanted—” Younghoon huffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just—” You hold up your hands as he begins to step toward you, slowly backing you into the wall. “Just let me talk. I thought you knew, yes. She told me that you asked her out first and that she just— she just agreed. So yeah, I started to hate you. I started arguing with you and every answer you gave in class because I was just so…angry at— at everything, at myself.”

Your back is against the wall now, and you’re slowly curling in on yourself as Younghoon gets closer. 

“And…?” he cocks an eyebrow and your swallow thickly.

“By the time I realized that it was all her….at that point it was just easier to keep hating you. To keep everything at bay.”

“Everything?” He echoes and had you been looking at his face instead of his chest, you would’ve seen the smirk you’d always claimed to hate plastered onto his face. 

“Yes,” you groan and lift your head. Your breathing hitches in your throat, your body pushing even closer to the wall when you finally see just how close Younghoon is to you. 

Just a few inches from your face is his own, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips. His breathing is, compared to yours, slow and even. Inhale, hold, exhale. You can see his chest rising and falling with the rhythm. 

“Why—” you clear your throat. “Why are you so close to me, Younghoon?”

“No legal name this time?” He murmurs, one of his hands coming up to rest on the wall beside your head. His head dips down and now his lips are brushing against yours, every breath you take mixing with his. “What happened?”

“I just— you’re a little close to me.” Your hand presses on his chest, but it's as if you aren’t even trying to push him away. “We— we probably shouldn’t.”

Younghoon kisses his teeth, shaking his head at your suggestion. Arguably, it’s a wise choice, but right now he has you exactly where he wants you. If he lets you leave now, who’s to say you won’t pack your bags and take a one-way flight to Brazil?

“I’ve been waiting,” he says and you squeeze the hand on his chest into a fist. “For three years for you to get your head out of your ass. I’m not letting you go now that I have you.”

“Have me?” Your tone shifts into one of challenge rather than the nervous air you’d surrounded yourself with. “If anything, I have you, Kim Younghoon.”

You yank him to you by his shirt, reaching up on your tip toes to place a firm kiss on his plush lips. You hear a groan rumbling in his throat, the hand not on the wall wrapping around your waist and squeezing tightly. Your lips mesh together, but it isn’t messy. It’s slow, calculated just like every move either of you had made against each other. Every argument, every challenge. The build-up. It all led to this, and you’re not letting him go this time. He’s yours and Choi Yuna can’t take him this time. 

With a new fervor, both of your hands come to lace into his thick strands of black hair, effectively trapping his lips against yours. He drops the hand that was on the wall, both hands now on your waist and sipping under the loose fabric of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feeling of his hands on your skin, and he takes that opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. It’s experimental, the way his tongue caresses yours, pushing gently and letting you suck at the warm muscle. He listens to the pretty little whimper you let out when he does the same thing in return and a shiver runs down his spine. His hand slides up the back of your shirt, emerging from the collar and lacing into the strands of your hair. 

Air. You had to come up for air. You needed to breathe. Your lungs are aching, but fuck his lips are addicting. They’re soft, and warm, and they feel so good against yours.��

Your knees cave slightly, your mind going fuzzy and Younghoon rips away from you to steady your body, his knee shoved between your legs to help keep you upright. 

“Sweetheart,” his tone is lighthearted, but you know he’s scolding you. “You need to learn to breathe. I’m not leaving just because you need some air.” 

A pretty little whine escapes you, but Younghoon is quick to realize that it’s not because you can’t find the words to respond to him. Well, if you think about it, that kind of was the reason. 

Your hips are rolling down on his knee, your hands gripping his shoulder for dear life as you ride his thigh. Your head is rolled to the side, your eyes squeezed shut as you try to find the right pace and the right amount of pleasure to ease your arousal. Younghoon’s jaw drops, and he feels his dick twitch in his pants at the sight of you trying so desperately to relieve yourself on him. Unfortunately for you, he notes, your jeans seem to be in the way of you achieving your pleasure. 

“Sweetheart,” he coos but his voice is shaky and he thanks god that you’re too far gone to notice. “Look at you, trying so hard to get yourself off.” 

You whine, and his breathing hitches when you try to ride him even harder. 

“Is it not enough?” He presses and your eyes fly open with the quick nod of your head. But then you shake it, and his heart clenches at the confused furrow of your brow.

“‘S not!” You whine. “Need more, Hoonie.” 

He smiles when you reach one of your hands down, undoing the button of your jeans and trying desperately to shove them down as far as they can physically go without interrupting your ministrations. To your dismay, they barely get anywhere before Younghoon has to set you down and starts to tug them down your legs gently. 

You never thought you would enjoy watching a man get down on his knees for you, never thought you could have this much of a reaction to it. Younghoon though…the sight of him looking up at you through his lashes, the nearly pathetic look in his eyes when he sees just how soaked your panties are— it’s enough to have you practically crumbling to the ground, your lips crashing against his again and forcing him back to lay on the ground. 

His hands are everywhere— your hair, your hips, your ass, anywhere he can reach. He squeezes the soft flesh of your ass when your lips trail down his neck, sucking little marks into the skin and pulling groans and quiet whimpers from his throat. 

Your hands run under his shirt, and he weakly tries to help you push it over his head to be tossed somewhere else. You shush him, a playful look in your eye as you place a finger on his lips. 

“Gotta be quiet now,” you unbutton his jeans, slowly dragging them and his boxers down and he lifts his hips to help you slide them down to his knees. He doesn’t bother with your shirt but makes quick work of your bra and shoves it up. You’re sliding your panties down your legs when he shoves his hands under your shirt, squeezing and tugging at the soft mounds of flesh on your chest. A quiet moan at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples, and his hands falter momentarily when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he teases and you scoff while lining him up with your sopping wet pussy. You know he’s big, both of you do, but you’d never admit that to his face. Never admit that you’re nervous about taking it all in, nervous that you won’t be able to take him at all.

“As if your little dick could possibly hurt me—” your voice catches and he watches with strained amusement as you begin to sink down on him. Your walls are tight around him, practically squeezing the life out of his poor cock while you try so desperately to keep sliding down on him. Younghoon pulls his hands out of your shirt, sliding them down to your hips and gently rubbing them as a means to ease your discomfort.

“What were you saying about my little dick?” Younghoon sneers and you have to fight back the whine that threatens to slip out of you. He’s just over halfway in when you force yourself to give up, the stretch beginning to be too much for you to handle. “I could’ve prepped you, y’know? Made this easier for us both.”

You can only lower your head onto his shoulder, biting harshly into the skin while he flips you around and pushes your legs up toward your chest. 

“Hold these here, sweetheart.” You do as he says, gasping sharply when he begins to sink into you. 

“Fuck, Younghoon!” 

“Shhh,” he kisses you gently while continuing to press into you, using the width of his shoulders to gently spread your legs a bit further apart. “‘M almost there, I promise.”

“‘S too much,” you whimper, a tear slipping out of your eye and dripping onto the carpeted floor below you. “‘S too much, Hoonie.”

“I know sweetheart,” he coos and looks down at where the two of you are connected. He fights the sudden urge to cum when he sees the fluttering of your walls, sees them clenching around him, and trying to force him out. “I’m almost there.” 

Another whine from you and he quickly slides the last three inches into you, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the scream you release. He stays still for a moment, listening to the sound of you sniffling, and turns his head briefly to look at the door. A shadow passes by and he exhales quietly. 

“And you were worried about me being too loud. Who’s the one with a hand over her mouth, hm?” You can’t don’t respond and Younghoon pulls out entirely, leaving just the tip inside of you, and when you whine and let go of one of your legs to reach out for him, he sinks into you in one harsh thrust. 

The moan you let out behind Younghoon’s hand is guttural, and your back arches off the floor. His thrusts are rapid, yet he doesn’t falter in pattern. He sinks deep inside of you, punching into you so deep that you swear he’s going to hit your cervix. He lets his hand drop from your mouth listening to the way you try to hold back your noises. Every whine, every whimper and moan and cry, you try so hard for him. 

“Such a good girl,” he coos. “Keeping quiet and letting me fuck her real good.” His voice is so quiet, the words practically hissed into your ear and it’s so hot that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

Your grip on your legs loosens and then your hands drop them entirely, letting them fall onto his sturdy shoulders. He watches as both of your hands disappear under your shirt and he feels a pang of irritation as you begin to play with your nipples. They draw sharper noises out of you, higher in pitch and slightly louder. Although, Younghoon can’t complain when the combined pleasure has your cunt fluttering around him and fresh waves of arousal washing through you to make it easier for him to fuck in and out of you.

“Hoon,” your whine is loud. Too loud. “So close, please!” 

Younghoon hushes you again, his hand running up the side of your leg and squeezing at the flesh of your thigh. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he tells you. “You gotta be quiet f’ me. Gotta be quiet so nobody walks in, okay?” 

“I can’t.” You sob out and Younghoon pushes himself closer to you, practically folding you in half so he can kiss you. You open up immediately, whining and letting him slide his tongue in for you to suck on.

Younghoon’s hips begin to stutter, his body shaking against yours, but you’re closer. Your body spasms, and you nip at his tongue to keep him close to you while you cum. Younghoon grunts at the combined feeling of your bites and the clenching of your walls around his length. It’s all a bit too much and it only takes a few more thrusts before he’s shuddering and collapsing against you, spilling ropes of white hot cum inside of you. 

He can feel the combination of his and your cum beginning to squeeze out of you around the tight fit of his dick inside of you, but he doesn’t have the strength to pull out of you just yet. You’ve stopped biting at him, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth slowly sucking at the warm muscle he continues to provide you. 

Your body is sore, your thighs aching and likely bruised when you walk into your dorm a few hours later. You hadn’t gotten any work done after that, spending the rest of the time making out in a chair and grinding on each other like some damn horny teenagers. You know you’re a disaster, but you’re more than content with that knowing that Younghoon looks the same (if not worse). 

When the door clicks shut, it’s dark in the suite and you silently thank god that Dawon and Suyeon are asle—

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The lights flick on to reveal your two friends at the counter in the suite’s living area. Dawon looks furious, but Suyeon looks like she just wants to go to be. You grimace, dropping your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground next to you. 

“Out.” Your voice is hoarse and you grimace. You imagine your throat is a little bit bruised from…things.

“Doing what.” Dawon snaps.

“Or who, judging by the looks of you.” Suyeon clicks her tongue and rises from the couch. “Look at you! It looks like someone tried to eat you!” 

Dawon squints at you, and you turn your gaze to the floor. 

“You fucked him, didn’t you?” She inquires, but you both already know the answer. 

“Who?” Suyeon frowns. “Who did she fuck?”

Your nose wrinkles, and you turn to her with a look that says I think you know. Suyeon tilts her head, her eyebrows knitting together in thought. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Oh. OH— OH MY GOD—”

The Tau Beta Zeta frat house isn’t as bad as you thought it would be. At least not party-wise. The moment you and your friends walk in, you’re engulfed in noise, drunk partygoers, and scattered members of the frat. In one corner you can see what looks like two members of the frat making out with their girlfriends. Haknyeon and Changmin, Dawon said, Too bad they couldn’t find a private space. Damn exhibitionists. A smile quirks on your lips just slightly. Oh, if only she knew the truth.

You barely acknowledge her, however, scanning the room for Younghoon. 

“Eric!” You grab the passing boy by the arm and he jerks to a stop, nearly spilling the contents of two cups. 

“Yo!” He grins at you, and you can just faintly see the crinkle of his eyes under the red baseball cap of his. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Younghoon?” Eric purses his lips in thought.

“You aren’t gonna kill him, right?” You laugh and so does he.

“No, not anymore. Or…I might if he doesn’t show up soon—”

“BOO!” Someone’s hands wrap around your waist lifting you off the ground and spinning you as you scream for him to put you down. Eric slips away, casting his eyes behind him to watch you and Younghoon as he approaches a girl in the corner. 

“Kim Younghoon!” You snap, swatting him upside the head. Your boyfriend smirks at you, bending down to try and give you a kiss that you block. “Don’t kiss me, you douche! That wasn’t funny!”

“It was kinda funny,” he laughs, swooping in to give a kiss that you choose not to block this time. It’s deep and slow, and he tilts his head to get a better taste of you when you bring your hand to the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, I think I like it when you don’t hate me.” He murmurs when he pulls back, grinning wickedly when you place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

“Do you now?” 

“Mhm.”

“Shouldn’t have scared me then.” You scowl, turning away from him and beginning to stalk away. He scrambles after you, frantically trying to keep up despite the crowd. 

“Where are you going?” He whines, grasping at your fingertips. You turn your head, a coy smile playing on your lips. 

“We gotta let loose, don’t we? We’re a little tense right now.” 

A puddle of drool is practically forming in Younghoon’s mouth and he’s suddenly in front of you, moving with a renewed fervor. 

When the door of the third bedroom on the right of the third floor shuts and clicks locked, nobody questions it. Not the thumping, nor the loud grunts and moans. 

When someone needs to let loose, people know better than to interrupt. Especially when it’s Younghoon and his former-crush-turned-enemy-turned-girlfriend.

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: [Blind Love] Chapter 25

Chapter 24 Normal Story

♡———♡

If life were a fairy tale, it would be easy to become happy.

Do not listen to evil temptations.

Do not be deceived by convenient illusions.

Then a calm, ordinary, and commonplace happiness awaits.

But - isn't that boring?

Jude: 'Ey, commoner. Catch.

Kate: Huh? Wow, ... a letter?

With 2 days left until the promised 1 month later, in the morning while eating breakfast, an envelope fluttered in front of me.

The culprit who threw it sat down and opened the newspaper without any explanation.

Ellis: Yours was mixed in with Jude's letters.

Kate: Ah, I see, that's what happened.

Alfons: It's rare for Jude to deliver a mixed-up letter instead of turning it into charcoal.

Jude: Throwin' it in the fireplace or on a plate is the same.

Ellis: Who's the letter from?

Kate: Let's see ... from the postmaster.

What was written there when I opened it was -

Kate: "If you're coming back as planned after finishing your work at the palace, you're welcome back" ... that's what it says.

(Come back, huh ...)

The scent of my former daily life wafted from the envelope and letter paper, and I narrowed my eyes.

Kate: It's kind of nostalgic ... It seems like a long time ago that I was delivering mail.

Liam: Are you going back, Kate? To the post office?

Kate: Huh?

Harrison: ... That's Kate's freedom. It's not for us to say anything about it.

Liam: But, Al, you're curious, right?

Alfons: No, not really.

Alfons slowly turns his gaze towards me.

Alfons: Why don't you do what you think is fun, Kate?

Kate: - Yes, of course.

Kate: I'm going to do what I want to do.

-

Victor: Yes, yes, it's well written.

Victor: As expected of Miss Kate, the contents of the report are concrete, detailed, and perfect.

Kate: Thank you, Victor.

Victor: In the beginning, I can feel your eagerness to understand all the cursed people equally.

Victor: From the middle, it gradually turns into a research essay on the mirror curse.

Kate: ... I'm ashamed to say, there's no room for excuses ...

The report I was gradually writing, just like my mind, clearly showed how it was gradually being eroded by Alfons.

Victor: If you give it to Roger, he'll be delighted.

(... Sorry, I actually already "gave" it to him.)

I've shared excerpts from the middle and later parts of the report with Roger.

(I can't tell Victor that I leaked the report to Roger.)

I want to continue having a good relationship with Roger.

His knowledge and research are essential for what I "want to do."

---Isn't that a bribe? You can't say anything about me.

(No. This is just ... an investment in the future, an investment.)

I answer Alfons, who's stirring things up in my head, insincerely.

Victor: Tomorrow is the deadline for the promise I made with you.

Victor: For this month, as per our contract, you kept the secret and recorded their sins.

Victor: If you get through tonight - you're free.

Victor: Can you tell me? How do you intend to live from now on?

Kate: I -

Kate: As a Fairytale Keeper, I want to continue searching for a way to escape Alfons' fate.

Looking up, Victor gently narrowed his eyes.

I remember the day I first saw their eyes shining in the darkness.

I wanted to escape this place, but now I don't want to leave.

Because I found something important that I can only do here.

Victor: ... Why do want to do so?

Kate: Because I don't want to forget a single trace that he carves on me.

Kate: If he dies before me - at that time, I want to say "I will never forget you."

Kate: And if possible, I want those words to be ... not just a convenient illusion.

Kate: I want them to be reality.

The fate of the cursed is absolute.

But - I can't give up without trying.

(Besides ...)

Kate: I'm going to spend my life proving to Alfons, who surely thinks it's absolutely impossible, wrong!

Victor: ...

Kate: If the tragedy turns around, it will become the best comedy, right?

I know it's mostly a gamble.

A big gamble with my life at stake.

If I lose, despair awaits.

(But, I'll surely turn it into a comedy.)

(I won't let him become a stage device for tragedy.)

Victor: ... Escape from fate, huh. ... Yeah.

Victor: That's a wonderful goal. I feel like you can do it.

Victor: You're free. You can go anywhere and do anything.

Victor: When you feel lost, don't forget that we're on your side.

Kate: ... Yes. Thank you.

Victor: Well then, once again - welcome, Kate.

Victor: Let me welcome you to the world of darkness.

-

--On the way back from getting permission to meet the postmaster and submitting my resignation.

Harrison, who accompanied me, asked as he walked a little behind me.

Harrison: Hey ... are you really okay with this?

Kate: With what?

Harrison: I'll tell you because I know ... but Al is probably out in the night town again.

Kate: ... I know.

Even though we're lovers now, it seems Alfons' "rotten private life" continues.

Harrison: You threw away your everyday life and chose a dark path.

Harrison: Is it okay to forgive him?

Kate: ... I -

At that moment, a carriage stopped next to us.

(Wh-what ...!?)

While I was on guard, the carriage door opened ----,

Harrison: ---!

Kate: Kyaaah!?

I was pulled into the carriage by the arm that reached out.

-

(Who, what!? An enemy of the Crown!? A kidnapper!?)

Alfons: Kate, it's me, me.

Kate: Ah, Alfons!?

Before I could be surprised, the carriage starts rattling away.

Kate: Ah, I need to explain to Harrison...!

Alfons: This carriage has the Crown's exclusive exterior, so Harry will probably figure it out.

(I see...)

Realizing I was the only one panicking, I feel a bit dissatisfied and glance at Alfons next to me.

(Oh, he doesn't have that scent today...)

On the nights he goes out, he always has that cloying, twisted scent of nightlife, a symbol of his decadent lifestyle.

**flashback**

Harrison: You chose a dark path, throwing away your everyday life.

Harrison: Can you really forgive that?

**flashback over**

His words from earlier flash through my mind––

--CHOICES--

In that shady room?

Were you out drinking?

Were you giving illusions somewhere?

---------------

Kate: Were you giving illusions somewhere?

Alfons: Well, yes, something like that.

His nonchalant profile makes me push down the frustration in my throat.

As I'm caught in a swirl of conflicting feelings, wanting to question him more but also afraid to touch the subject,

Alfons: ...Does it not bother you?

A straightforward question comes flying from Alfons.

Kate: Well... it would be a lie to say it doesn't bother me at all.

But I can't bring myself to blame him.

(It's not that I'm afraid of being seen as troublesome.)

(Because, I...)

Kate: ...It's because you do those things that I fell for you.

Kate: Whether you're giving illusions in the slums, providing an escape in the back of a tavern,

Kate: Or something else... I don't know,

Kate: But I know there's a kind of pain there that makes you want to offer an escape.

Alfons: ...

(Even without looking, I can see Alfons' dumbfounded expression.)

But it can't be helped.

Kate: It's fine! Ah... but at least...

Kate: Heartfelt kisses, sincere "I love you"s, those kinds of things... please keep them for me alone.

Alfons: ...

Alfons: Then––is it okay for me to do this kind of thing with other people too?

Kate: ...?

Alphonse's palm smoothly slid around my waist as I sat beside him.

Pulled closer, unable to escape, I surrendered to his touch. His hand crawled up my leg, causing my body to jump in surprise.

Alfons: Don't you hate it when I touch anyone other than you?

The hand that was messing up my skirt went from my back to my chest, playing with my clothes.

As I tried to hold back the voice that was about to leak out, he gently bit my ear.

Kate: Hahh, uhh...

Alfons: Hey, Kate.

Alfons: How far would you let me go?

Kate: Ah, ah...

His fingertip nearly entered my underwear, and I couldn't take it anymore, so I raised a white flag.

Kate: ...N-no...

Kate: Of course I don't want that...

Alfons: Hehe, you've finally become honest.

Even though I tried to be an understanding girlfriend, he pulled out my true feelings and made me tear up.

He looked at me like that and gave a troubled smile.

Alfons: I'm afraid I can't stop going out at night. It's my hobby, my pleasure, and my life's work.

Kate: I... I know...

Alfons: Going out drinking, showing illusions... but

Alfons: I want to try to love you properly, so

Alfons: I won't do that with anyone other than you... no kissing, no caressing, no sex.

(I want to believe it but......)

Kate: ... ... It's definitely a lie... ...

Kate: So that I won't suffer again, so that I won't be sad again, that's how you––

Alfons: Ah ha! So that you won't suffer? No way! I don't have that intention at all.

Alfons: ––You're happy, right?

Alfons: I'm yours alone. I only do pleasant things with you.

Kate: ……?

Whether it's "true" or "not true."

Like a coin that keeps spinning, the result is unknown.

Alfons: Even with these words that are unclear whether they are lies or truth, they are engraved in the depths of your heart.

Alfons: You'll surely remember them every time I go out at night.

As if under a spell, Alfons' words are engraved in my head.

Alfons: You might tail me again to see if it's true, right?

Alfons: If you find out it's true, it will be engraved even deeper.

Alfons: That way, you can keep thinking about me forever and ever.

His words enter me.

It's surely another wicked spell that will take root and cause mischief.

Alfons: I don't make love to you properly to make you feel at ease.

Alfons: It's to dig my claws deep into your heart and leave a scar that won't disappear.

Kate: ... ... Uuu... ...

Unable to endure it any longer, tears finally spilled out.

Alfons wiped away the tears with a smile, as if comforting a child.

Alfons: Ah ha, are you scared?

Kate: No...!

Kate: These are... ... tears of joy.

Alfons, who tried to disappear without leaving a trace, is trying to leave deep claw marks.

Because that is the undeniable proof of his love.

Kate: I'm crying... ... because I'm happy.

Alfons: ... ... Then cry more.

His wicked hands touch me, not to test my true feelings this time, but to love me.

Kate: ... ... In a carriage like this... ...

Alfons: You said that before, too.

Alfons: That time, I didn't finish it...

Alfons: ––Today, please make me feel good too.

A sweet and dangerous temptation is poured into my ear.

Even without being shown an illusion, I already...

––I can't resist this voice.

-

We made love in the cramped carriage, unable to even muffle our voices, and drifted off to sleep—

Kate: Hmm...

Alfons: ...Ah, you're finally awake?

As I woke up, Alfons' voice gently fell upon my eyelids.

Alfons: How was it? Was my thigh comfortable to sleep on?

Kate: ...It was...very nice...

Alfons: That's good to hear.

He chuckled and his fingertips gently stroked my hair.

As I slowly sat up, I noticed my blouse was crumpled and falling off.

I hurriedly picked it up to cover myself, but Alfons laughed again, saying, "There's no need to hide now."

Outside, the sky was tinged with pale pink, and the carriage seemed to be parked in front of the Crown Castle entrance.

There was no sign of the coachman.

Alfons, with his back to the window, was faintly outlined by the light, as if the morning sun was blessing him or the darkness was reluctant to let him go.

He was so beautiful that I held my breath and stared, and our eyes gently met.

Alfons: Hey, Kate.

Alfons: I secretly heard what you "want to do"...

(Huh...?)

"I want to keep searching for a way to escape Alfons' fate."

I wonder what he thought of me telling Victor that.

Alfons: Honestly, I thought it was foolish.

Alfons: It's called "fate" because it can't be escaped.

Alfons sighed softly and then smiled serenely.

Alfons: But—I quite like that overly serious side of you.

Kate: ...Don't say "quite," say you like it "a lot."

Alfons: ...

(What...?)

He fell unusually silent at my retort, then gently took my hand.

(Alfons...?)

His gesture was unusually respectful, so I was surprised and lost for words.

Alfons: ...I'm not good with straightforward words of love.

Alfons: I've said "I love you" and "I like you" too many times without meaning it.

Alfons: The moment I say it, it feels like a lie.

Alfons: So—please forgive me with this.

His lips gently touched the back of my hand, like a sacred vow.

Alfons, with his eyes downcast, had a very sincere expression.

If there was such a thing as a true love's kiss in this world, I think this kiss would be it.

Alfons: I will make you supremely happy...and someday, I will make you despair.

There's no guarantee that fate can be changed.

So, for him, this is a love that will lead me to tragedy.

But—.

Kate: ...I will be made supremely happy.

Kate: But I won't despair.

Alfons: ...Honestly.

Alfons: As long as you're laughing in the end, I feel like any tragedy can turn into a comedy.

Kate: Heh, leave it to me.

You can make fun of me all you want.

So, Alfons, please keep smiling happily.

Kate: I'll turn your life, my life, everything into a comedy.

Alfons: Yes, yes.

Alfons: Let's have as much fun as we can, shall we?

-

Mirror, mirror, don't show me convenient dreams.

Even if reality is full of sadness...

Tell me your truth.

Carve it into my heart, my body.

Because I will never let this love become an illusion.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Blind Love: Epilogue

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[pardonmydelays]

so it's been a few days since you saw waitress, what are your initial thoughts?

thank you so much for reminding me and sorry for being quiet about it for so long, i've been meaning to write this mini essay but i really needed to take a deep breath & collect my thoughts first. so...

sugar, butter, flour... (it's been ringing in my head for days)

i honestly didn't really know what to expect when i started watching it. i knew a little bit about the plot, not that much tho, & i knew who wrote the music for it, the rest was a mystery to me.

i always say the best musicals are the ones that make you cry & this was definitely one of those. it made me feel... so many things at once. so first of all, i think the proshot was absolutely beautiful & i wish we could see more musicals this way. second of all: the characters! all of them so incredibly written & so real!

ok, i am really trying not to be chaotic here, but it's not easy (i've cried multiple times while watching it, ok???). jenna's story completely broke my heart. also, as a person who ended a very toxic relationship not that long ago, i must say i could feel her pain & struggle even more (earl reminded me of my ex so much it hurts, but we are not going there). but she wasn't the only relatable character here, this may be surprising for you, but i literally had a mental breakdown on "when he sees me" cause i found a little bit of myself there (wow, i've got issues)... another song worth mentioning is definitely "she used to be mine" (that was the moment i had to stop watching for a second cause my eyes were so full of tears i couldn't see anything lol). and don't even get me started on "you matter to me"... especially when you think about the ending...

the ending was really surprising for me, but not in a bad way i guess? as much as i wanted a happy ending for jenna, i didn't want it to be all perfect cause that's the thing about life, right? it's never perfect. but she did found herself & her happiness eventually & to be completely honest with you anon, i love a good story that shows us we can be happy without men (even tho it broke my heart a little bit). also, she wasn't left alone. she had amazing friends (another thing that always makes me cry because friendships are so important to me & they are always my favourite part of the plot) & her little daughter! & her own place! & omg i think i'm gonna start crying again...

so, like, you know. i will probably rewatch it pretty soon, i'm also gonna listen to the soundtrack more cause my thoughts are really chaotic at the moment, but overall i think this is such a great musical, definitely one of the best i've seen so far and i am dying to see it live! the choreography was absolutely incredible, the whole cast was amazing, the music was really, really good and the plot made me cry like a baby. this is all you need to know. i loved it so much!!!

[floral-ashes]

Thought I’d share this review of Gender/Fucking: The Pleasures and Politics of Living in a Gendered Body, posted to Goodreads by a user named Haley:

“Wow, wow, WOW— this is a book that invites you, the reader, not only to learn but also to EXPLORE— it’s a patchwork quilt of memoirs, erotic interludes, and critical analysis, and it’s gripping and devastating at every turn. Florence Ashley, a transfem jurist and bioethicist, is a brilliant writer with a penchant for luscious prose and biting commentary. This collection is equally brilliant, introducing the concept of “academic smut” as a vehicle for telling stories of love, loss, growth, and tragedy against a backdrop of trans identity and intellectualism. As a nonbinary person, I found myself represented in living color on every page; reading this collection left me tear-stained and devastated, and yet immeasurably hopeful at the same time. It’s a storytelling format I could never have predicted enjoying, as I’m rather open about not enjoying erotica as a written genre (with the exception of fanfiction!) due to my own discomfort with first-person-POV sex— however, the erotica here DOES something. It gives a tangible example of the theories and thought-processes that Florence describes in each chapter; it gives the reader an opportunity to imagine sexual dynamics playing out not only in front of them but with them in the driver’s seat, and again— as someone whose queer activities echo some of Florence’s own, it was deeply eye-opening to see myself and my desires on paper that exposes the pleasure, shame, and possibilities that we all partake in.

In particular, I'm drawn to one phrase that Florence concludes with in their "Trespass on the Fox" essay: these are questions without answers. am i open to being loved, to being lovable? maybe. Upon reading that, I had to sit and stare blankly at the wall for a time I can't begin to measure. Not only for the raw questioning of how I exist in regards to love, but for the openness in stating that these words, and all the words in Florence's collection, do not exist to serve as definitive answers of, well, pretty much anything! I've spent the past 18 years of my life entrenched in academia, and the idea that I don't have to always answer "yes" or "no" when asked about my "take" on something isn't necessarily foreign, but it's under-represented in nonfiction works, and it was a breath of fresh air to see it so frankly discussed here.

Though I am hesitant to describe any essay in detail, as I do truly think each entry deserves to be experienced firsthand, I want to conclude my review with an analysis of "Libidinal Vertigo," one of two essays that Florence warns about in their Preface for their potentially-triggering material. It's a deeply unsettling essay for two reasons: one, it discusses famed (or, rather, infamous) TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminists) scholars like Mary Daly in detail, and their works are ones that have caused me a lot of personal strife as well; two, it explores Florence's (and that of all transfem folx) vulnerability to the very same transphobic rhetoric that most of us wish was contained solely in now-fading academic texts. We (and I use this word here confidently, despite existing not as a transfem person as AFAB and nonbinary) are all deeply susceptible to the internalized transphobia that runs rampant across our social media threads and bathroom-sink conversations. Florence, in protest of Janice Raymond's vitriol, invites us to embrace our monstrosity... echoing a brilliant passage of poetry discussing Frankenstein many pages prior. If they cast us as monsters, without giving us a chance to recite our lines, then perhaps we should acknowledge our hatred— and use it as fuel to empower healing amongst our own.

I cannot put into words how much I recommend this collection; it deserves to be immortalized in the canon of transgender studies, and it also deserves to be passed around amongst friends and highlighted and annotated to no end, the pages themselves becoming a living museum of memory and community. Whether you are trans, cis, or beginning your own journey of self-discovery, this book is a light amongst a sea of uncertainty and darkness, and I highly encourage you to pick up a copy of your own.

Note: I receive a gifted ARC from Clash Books; as always, I was under no obligation to leave a review, and all my thoughts/ramblings are my own <3”

[deathlygristly]

I am reading the reblogs and tags on an older post that goes around the dash occasionally. It's about reading. I'm sure you've seen it - someone talks about Divergent books and 1984 and then someone reblogs it and calls 1984 rape apologism? Which is really weird?

The spousal person ordered a print of this Kate Beaton comic many years ago and he hung it up in the hallway and he told me to go look at it whenever I said my writing was bad:

http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=44

The first two panels do a fairly decent job of explaining 1984. Which is just....a really simple book. It's like wow look fascism sucks! And that's it, pretty much. Like yeah, obviously you could write papers and essays and a thesis and probably do a whole body of academic work on the particulars of it, but really it's just that Orwell thought fascism sucked. Which it does, so I don't see the problem?

Anyway I am pretty sure a lot of the people on that post come from a very different society than I do, even though the education system they say they hate is the American one. Which, hey, our education is locally funded and controlled so maybe it's just that my working class southern Appalachian rural county schools were a lot better than their schools? Or is it maybe what I've suspected before, that I graduated before No Child Left Behind?

I can't recall my English teachers ever being authoritarian to the extent so many other people claim their English teachers were. Not that I can recall that much about English or school at all, really, but I think I would remember if they marched around all "No, your essay is WRONG and only MY opinion is right!!!" all the time.

But then it's true that I don't remember it that well because I just wrote essays the night before they were due or sometimes in the classes before English if it was a class later in the day, and then I got a good grade and nice comments on it and then I got on with my life. I don't think I ever invested nearly as much emotional energy and idea of my self-worth into English class as the people on that post did. Which maybe that's why they remember it so well? Certainly it's probably a large part of why they still have Big Emotions about it.

Anyway my point is that sometimes I read how people write about their own reading and I'm like oh. This is why I shouldn't care what people say about my work that much. I clearly did not write it for these people who experience the world and fiction and the written word in a way that I cannot imagine at all and that I would have never known existed as a possibility if I hadn't read their own words about it.

Like the version of the post that gets the most reblogs ends with an essay about how in the last few decades people have come to expect characters to be "relatable" and to be like them and to think and experience things the way they do? And there's all this self-identity and irrational and false beliefs about your own moral purity involved?

If you come to my work with that sort of thing in your heart you will bounce off of it, and I have finally come to understand that the bouncing off is for the best for both of us.

If you're new here and you haven't read my stuff yet, here's the pinned post with the directory on my Simblr: Story Index.

Anyway, gotta go to bed now. It's just....I don't think I ever realized just how differently people experience fiction and books and the written word from how I experience it before. Like in the tags someone said they expected 1984 to be more Hunger Games-esque? How is that person perceiving reality? I want to live inside their brain for a bit to learn.

[theoldaeroplane]

I inbox you the following: I must know what compels you about Link. I trust that he is Good and Excellent, but I simply yearn for an essay on what little niche trait makes you wanna fandom the fuck out of this little guy. 5-10 paragraphs of hyper fixated ramblings preferred, but not required.

ohhh starkid you've given me A GIFT. a GIFT.

So some background first, I think. I've always liked the Zelda games, in the way you play a mainstream game and are like "yeah that was good!" I played Ocarina of Time and Windwaker as a kid. I played Breath of the Wild when it first came out and had a fun time with it. Yeah. Good games! Fun mechanics. Characters seem a little flat, but they aren't why I'm here. What was the story again? Oh, right---yeah, they gave Zelda an actual personality that doesn't start and end with "princess" in the new one! She's a scientist! How neat.

Then Tears of the Kingdom comes out. I've just gotten a Steam Deck for my birthday and wow, turns out you can emulate TOTK already?? I try it out immediately. It's janky, but I love messing with emulators, so I keep going. I certainly don't have the cash to buy TOTK properly.

And in TOTK, for me, it starts with Zelda. It starts with this young woman barely out of her teens being flung into a horrible, frightening situation, and being forced to make an absolutely terrifying choice. And it turns out if you start looking at her more closely, that choice only becomes more and more viscerally upsetting as you incorporate things about her from the previous game.

It got me invested, and I still adore Zelda. I could probably write just as long a deliberation about her. But we're talking about Link.

I read a little bit of BOTW fanfic back when it first came out. It was almost all Sidon/Link stuff, because I liked the ship for a number of reasons, and one evening after another night of mainlining TOTK I decide to go look and see if I can find some that I remembered being good. I did, and they were still mostly good! But there was one in particular, with one line in particular. "You're Always Almost There," by Polyhexian. (On mobile so no link, sorry!)

'One hundred years ago,’ Link signed, 'A Guardian shot me through the chest,’ he grimaced as if in pain from even mentioning it, 'I died with everyone else, and then someone else decided to bring me, and only me, back to life to fix everything, to save everyone. I have to stop the Calamity. I have to save Hyrule. I have to fix the world. I am not a real person. I am everyone’s unfinished business.’

I had read it before. When I read it this time I closed my browser, opened Typora, and started writing. It wasn't more than a random narrative sifting through half collected ideas, and I neither finished nor posted it, but it got me started. A few weeks later I started writing To Be Well, which among other things directly addresses the idea that Link does not think of himself as a "real person"---and that he isn't sure if he wants to.

As I've written him, I've found more and more about him and his setting that fascinates me. Part of this is certainly that Link is intentionally designed as a "placeholder" character (word of God is he was deliberately designed to be androgynous to make it easier for more people to project on him). At first I was really fascinated by his relationship with Zelda, and wanted to look at that through a queerplatonic lens. In doing that I found myself trying to work through some problems of my own, which it turns out is just how I write fanfiction I guess: projecting! Huzzah! I decided to lean into it, and wrote "You do not have to be good," which is a story that takes some liberties with the canon to explore the subject of toxic purity and the toll it takes. Also, the logistics of kissing someone with a beak.

What makes Link compelling to me is ... what do you do, when you aren't allowed to be a person? What do you do when you've been told all your life things are like this and this and this, and that you must behave thusly?  What if you learn it was never true? How do you go from "perfect" to "real"? What does it even mean, being a person? How do you start? Is it even worth it?

I feel like I'm only scratching the surface, haha. I also love Link for whatever the hell he's doing with gender, and I've been having an absolute blast writing him as predominantly communicating via sign language. I'm playing fast and loose with a lot of things that only get half-mentioned in canon, and having a good old time playing in the sandbox of Hyrule. They're huge games and there's a lot of space for me to set up shop!

[msanonymous]

-Words leave me-

They say I'm good with words. But am I though? Because I've always seen them leaving me mid conversations, while consoling others, answering questions about myself, when I need them the most, all the time. Maybe my love isn't enough to make them stay. Words leave me. The moment I have to voice them to others. And I'm just left there with my crippling anxiety and deafening silence between me and others, that makes me wanna unalive myself. 

I remember how yesterday a friend of mine came up to me and said "Can you please write down this essay for me, my class starts in 23 minutes, my grades and my life depends on it! Please!" And I did and handed it over to her after 19 minutes and she said "Thank you!" And just at that moment I felt the words leaving and then I saw her leaving too. And just when she became so distant that she couldn't hear even if I yelled those words. That came back to me, the second I was out of time. "Next time don't say please" "Friends don't say thank you to each other" "It was no big deal" "I'm here for you" "Anytime?"

They left when I handed over my assignment to the Professor and she said "Wow... You're quite good in this language" and I smiled and left the room. "I'm not good at it, it's just my mother tongue, I'm good at nothing." "It's just because I've read quite a few books in that language." "I've written some poems that don't rhyme in that language"

A friend in class asked me "What rhymes with, 'First'?" "Coerced" I answered a second later. She jotted it down and said "How do you remember these things, it's out of my mind" and I just shrugged because there were no words left inside of me. "I've spent 17 minutes thinking about that a day before yesterday, that's how my dumb brain remembers that"

The other day during a conversation, a person asked me "How do you remember all these conversations, I forget them the second I move on to the next one" and I just sat and stared at the floor with a head filled with anything but proper words. "You'll remember them too, if you were like me." "I only remember the ones in which I don't get the chance to speak, because when you don't get to speak you listen, intently" "I only remember the ones in which I get to say something, because there's only a few of them"

They left, when Mother asked me "What's wrong?" on our way home from the doctor's office. And came rushing back when I was alone in my room again. "Everything?" "Things happening in my life?" "Things I'm doing in my life?" "Me?"

A stranger read a piece I wrote and said "You're good with words, like really really good" and they left. "No, I'm not good enough to make them express what I really feel, to make them save me from hearing the sound of silence, to make them free me from my imprisoning anxiety, to make them stay inside of me"

~ms.anonymous (via Instagram)

{Excerpt from the diary/ I can't read without crying}

[that-starry-freak]

Okay, wow. Uhm.. I'm honestly kind of tired of all the fandom discourse. So i- I want to talk about it.

 This is honestly about to be really personal. So CW for mentions of hypersexuality and grooming(that ones at the very end), as well as mentions of harassment and aphobia. I also vaguing a bit, but its not too explicit (I do name 2 people at some point but im defending them and talking about how they dont deserve to be harassed, so-) and I'm not talking negatively about anyone!

Also please ignore my terrible grammar/spelling. This is kind of just me ranting and in no way is meant to be an actual well written essay or anything

Okay- so- god I was writing this all in my head but now I'm trying to type this out im coming up short

Okay, lets try this- there's no way to really neatly and perfectly segway into what I want to talk about, but I'll try my best

I just really want to talk about the harassment that's been going on in the fandom. Because its really just.. frustrating.

First is the allegations of aphobia.

Yes, aroace people can be aphobic! But can we please learn the difference between projecting and aphobia. 

There are aroace people in this fandom seeing Moon and Nexus and deciding to make them not sex repulsed because they arnt. Ive seen people get called aphobic for making them demiaroace, or aceflux, or just non-repulsed aroace. And I've seen people make fics of awful acts, "correcting" their asexuality, and being purposely tagged wrong.

Which one of these is actual aphobia, hm?

Should have started with this but, yknow, it's too late for that now- ehem, 

Hi! I'm Astro, a aceflux lesbian who struggles with hypersexuality. I, personally, am actually really uncomfortable with people making Moon not aroace and shipping him, even in aus. Im uncomfortable with them even making him not repulsed most of the time. What do I do though? I dont harass people. I just don't interact with the content!

And I have no problem with people making Nexus not repulsed/aroace. Why?? Because canonical hes confused and unsure about if he's aroace or not! And I know a lot of people on the ace and aro spectrum(s), including me, can relate to that feeling. The unsureness of if you are, and even if you know you are, not knowing where you are in the spectrum. I personally love making Nexus somewhere along the lines of demi or gray, because that would add more representation! Especially with Old Moon back now, we have our repulsed rep. That doesn't mean they can't both be repulsed! I'm just saying that having another character be another side of the spectrum (whether its non-repulsed aroace, demiaroace, demiaro and alloace, etc.) Would be nice. 

Personally, I've been tempted to make an au where Nexus started experimenting with sex and it starts clogging his mind. Because I enjoy his character, and I want to project my own experiences onto his character. There's nothing wrong with it?? Self inserting into canon characters is a tale as old as time, just as old as ocs.

There is literally nothing wrong with wanting to have more representation or have a character that represents you. That isn't ace or aro phobic- i don't get how people don't understand that. I know multiple aroace people who like dating, or who are dating. I also know aroace people who just like qprs and can't stand dating. I know aroace people who have been confused and have fluctuated with their sexuality as I've known them, trying to figure themselves out. There are different types, and people want to see themselves in a character that is similar to them. Whats wrong with that?

Now, I am not defending the people who constantly are like "well aroace people can date too", completely ignoring the fact that some are repulsed. I'm not defending the people that say that whenever you mention that a character doesn't like to date because they're repulsed. I've seen it happened to people who literally have aus and are talking about their versions if the character and how they never want to date, and people say that. It's fucking annoying. And ya, pretty aphobic.

But non-repulsed aroace people saying that about their own au versions of characters isn't the same thing. Defending their headcanons of a character because it helps them better connect to it isn't the same thing- im like, so confused about how we don't understand this already??

Another this is- and I can't believe I have to say this -can we NOT fucking harass people??? Like holy shit why do I have to say this?

Yes, this includes people who support terrible things. This includes people who just don't like the same things as you. Yes, this includes people that don't like you.

Because, fun fact, that just makes the situation worse. Someone saying something bad about somebody, and then a bunch of people swarming them and telling them their wrong, isn't going to change their mind. It'll actually just make them have an even more negative view of the person.

Now, spreading awareness about a person who is actively harassing people is different. But that also doesn't mean you should see that awareness and go harass that person. Again, its going to make it worse.

Instead, report. Block. Do whatever you can to keep yourself and others safe. Please don't harass people though. Please.

And yes holy shit this includes if they ship things you don't like! Holy fuck why do I even have to say this- if you disagree with someone, block them. Don't fucking spread rumors. You fucking people keep complaining about all the discourse and then attack shippers. What the fuck?? Stop it. The ones you are attacking don't even do shit, they're just chilling. Some people Eccpecially!! I feel bad about mentioning directly, but people like @/kuuchaos and @/zthesheep (not tagging because I don want to bother them and also im a coward. Wishing them all the support in the world tho) haven't even done anything! They're just getting harassed because they're associated with people these harassers don't like.

Hell, i- who has barely done anything but support people -am terrified of getting harassed. Because I'm associated with these "big blogs", I'm at risk of being harassed. Its ruining my mental health, which was just finally getting better- its frustrating. I literally had to take a break from tumblr because I was so anxious, and I felt sick to my stomach and was shaking a bit. I just want to make friends and have fun and post art, but I'm scared of being yelled at literally becuas elf people who I associate myself with.

I know im at risk just because I'm mutuals with two of these blogs. Just because I post and reblog ship things, and reblog things from these "big blogs". Im- augh. I luckily haven't been harassed, and have blocked the harasser in question, but that doesn't stop the crippling anxiety of the fact that i may be in the future. That's not okay. Its awful that this fandom is so fucked up that people who havnt even done shit are afraid of being harassed- or are actually being harassed!

Can I remind everybody that the VAs literally asked everyone not to harass each other and to just chill out? Sure, I'm all for death of the author, but thats not what that is. You can't just take canon and use it to harass people, but completely ignore the people who made that canon. That's fucked up. Either ignore canon all together, or listen to the VAs. Either you, you have no reason to harass people.

Anyway, I hope soon we can all be a lot nicer to each other. Seriously, I dont care about disagreeing with ships. I dont even think we should all be friends, im not a fucking elementary school teacher. But I think we should all at least be respectful to each other and not literally harass and send fucking gore to people. Eccpecially fuckimg CHILDREN like im sorry whos idea was that?? Those gore anons need to be put in prison because that is one of the most disgusting things I've heard in a fandom- and I've been in some pretty horrific fandoms (*cough*dsmp*cough*)

So uhm- yeah

Please dont harass me for speaking out against harassment, like seriously. I'm not promoting harassment or aphobia, or incest or anything. Especially grooming, considering i may have been groomed by one of my friends in 3rd grade??? Idk, the more you know-

Im also not inviting an argument. Please dont argue with me, please. Or even disagree with me in reblogs or comments or tag me or anything. It may seem childish, but I instinctively want to argue back and I just want to avoid that. Please.

But yeah, let's just be decent to each other pls. Use that nifty block button more, please and thank you <3

(THIS WAS NOT REREAD OR EDITED! plus I was having extreme pain at the end cause of cramps- and I was emotional and frustrated at the beginning. So this all may be a bit incoherent/rude, but im trying

Again, please don't harass me- especially over me talking about my hypersexuality and things- its hard for me and personally <3)

[unch4rtedwxters]

who is:

your intellectual fav character of all time? the one who has great growth and means and motives?

your emotional fav character of all time? the one who gives you all the feels for no reason?

and your middle fav character of all time? the one who is an interesting character but still gives you a lot of emotions?

intellectual: this one stumped me for a few minutes because my brain isn't braining today but i think i'll go with sophie foster. she starts out as this young girl who knows nothing about her world and herself and as of what we currently have, sophie's grown into a strong person who's far less a pushover and more a force to be reckoned with who knows who she is and what she wants to do, following the fate that was written for her but also paving her own path.

emotional: alberto scorfano. is there a reason for him to give me all the feels that he does? yes. is the amount of feels i get absolutely unnecessary? fuck yes. (sorry i wrote middle before this one and you can clearly tell my brain got tired)

middle: RYLAND GRACE OH MY GODS. i love how he, in the beginning, knows nothing about why he was in a coma in outer space but, once he regains more memories, goes on, saving the world. and even though, closer to the end, he remembers that he was pretty much forced to go on the hail mary, he goes on and saves the world because he doesn't just have humanity to save, his students – his kids – to save, but he has a friend, an alien society, to save.

speaking of his students, i get hit with the biggest wave of emotions when ryland calls them his kids. he cares about them so much, and it's so genuine and kind and – as i write this i'm tearing up thinking about it help me – ryland is just the best person to be a teacher. he cares so much that he goes back to the project he was forced to, at first, just because he couldn't bear the thought of his kids suffering in such a way that they would. on page 68 (good gods is this an essay now), it says, "Thirty years. I looked out at their little faces. In thirty years they'd all be in their early forties. They would bear the brunt of it all. And it wouldn't be easy. These kids were going to grow up in an idyllic world and be thrown into an apocalyptic nightmare. ... I was looking into a room full of children. Happy children. And there was a good chance some of them would literally die of starvation," (Weir) (wow i really went essay mode). this guy- i just- *emotions intensify*

and of course, you can't talk about ryland without talking about his dog sized-alien-rock-bestie rocky. ryland grace made first contact with a sentient alien. ryland grace befriended said sentient alien. ryland grace worked with his new alien bestie to save both of their worlds. ryland grace sacrificed his return to earth to save his best friend when he found out they made a giant mistake. ryland grace is one of the most loyal human being i've ever read about – including percy jackson, whose fatal flaw is literally loyalty.

can you tell i like project hail mary :)

[sarioh]

Hello Tumblr user Rio Sarioh! If you're bored; do you have a favourite book you like to talk about? What is it about, why do you like it? Or perhaps a movie or show of which you enjoy the writing? A fairytale? A poem?

Wow, creative writing. Any thoughts on that? Pretty swell, in my opinion.

Hope you have a nice vague nine hour time window and that your thing arrives in good condition!

HEY tumblr user tt04sty hope u r doing well and thank you for the ask. also my Thing has indeed arrived in good condition so thank god i didnt have to wait all day for it. to be frank questions about my favorite media make me feel like a deer in headlights bc for whatever reason whenever i get asked this i somehow forget every piece of media i've ever consumed or that has had an impact on me in any way and i don't know why. safe answer though is probably everything everywhere all at once which i know might come as an absolute shock to everyone (<- wrote a 16k word fic inspired by it) but generally just any media that is very Wacky and Surreal visual-wise but with a central theme of love and connection gets me really bad because i am very predictable and also a little pathetic. also as a gay asian living in the west with a very stereotypical asian mother you can probably understand why the movie had such an impact on me LOL.

also creative writing... i've only done one work of creative writing in the past few years and that was wind back the clock which i think about genuinely all the time. writing Character Study is the most cathartic and fun experience in the world to me and i prolonged publishing that for SO long because i just wanted to keep working on it forever. my writer's problem is that it takes me about 60 years to come up with an idea that i am captivated enough by to be able to put it into writing and actually stick to it for more than a day and that has only happened one single time in my 2 years in mcytblr. but by god i would kill a whole man to be able to do that all over again because i am regrettably a stem major and have not written an essay or anything else creative in years and while im enjoying it i do feel like im missing out on a crucial part of being a Person. i miss writing so much you have no idea. and i feel like the further i go into this Degree the more my Meta Analysis brain starts to rot and get replaced by Numbers and Formulas and Snippets of code. i'm losing my touch forreal

as far as other media goes... to be perfectly honest i have not been consuming much lately just because i have been very busy irl but i did just finish reading the red rising trilogy for the first time which was cool... also have probably watched about 200 hours of animal documentaries over the past few months LOL. actually on the topic of books i am going on a flight soon and will have a 9 hour stopover so if anyone has any book recommendations of ANY genre i would love to hear them. please tell me all of your favorite books i want to read them all

[cboffshore]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thanks for the tag, @fabrowrites!

Tagging: @basicallyjaywalker and, uh, I'm not really sure. NWOD buddies, if you see this, you're all welcome to hop on too!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

Twelve! One is technically a mini essay collection and one is a poem, though, so ten proper fics.

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

122,397!!! Which is.... wow!!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Ninjago. That's it. I don't really engage with other shows enough to write fic for them, and I think writing fic for IRL bands and such is weird as hell, so I don't that at all.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Oh boy, let's see:

A Disappearing Act (Done Poorly) leads the race, which makes sense - she's been around the longest!

It Doesn't Take Much (To Cover Up Small Cuts) is a bit of a surprise, but so worth it.

The Splinter in the Blind Man's Eye: An Unofficial Revision . What a great group project. Too bad Tommy wandered off to work on Dreamzzz or whatever... This one is like a tombstone on my account. Or maybe a mausoleum...

Just Cross The Waters my beloved!

Coughing Up Feathers is one that I'm amazed isn't higher - kind of had a spike in activity when I updated OSSAS this year.

5. do you respond to comments

YES. I love to blabber. Please ask me questions!!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Elegy Above Sea Level isn't a fic - it's that single poem I mentioned earlier - but it's really the only work I have that ends on a purely bitter note. I don't deal in unbalanced angst, but I like this one. Goes down like a raw spoonful of cocoa powder, honestly, and I adore it.

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oof, that's... that's a tough one. I would have to say Coughing Up Feathers purely because it's got a miniature "everyone laughs" ending that still makes me smile when I read it back.

8. do you get hate on fics?

No, and you know what? I wish I did, sort of. Maybe not outright hate, though. As much as I love opening my comments to find my readers excited for me, it does get a little repetitive sometimes. Peer review me in the comments! Find an inconsistency and make me justify it! Lord knows I've done my share of criticism (on Tumblr and Discord, though - I'm just nice enough to not do it in the comments) and I think it would be fun to get that energy back. Plus, spite fuels me! If you make me mad, you get more writing. Win-win.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Nope. Never. I would rather eat pillow stuffing.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

Not any more, but my very first fic from middle school was a god-awful triple hit of Star Wars (with total homebrew lore, all I kept were the lightsabers and Force tricks), Ninjago, and - get this - Lindsey Stirling. I abandoned it halfway through the Rise of the Snakes season installment.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! That's the nice thing about focusing on an underappreciated angle - everyone else pays attention to the big, popular stuff, and only the people who would appreciate it even look twice at mine.

12. what's the longest you've spent working on a fic? and the shortest?

If I Can Think (Of Something Clever) took me about three months of on and off writing, plus LOADS of planning, so that's my longest! On the other hand, I wrote Wouldn't It Be Grand? (It Ain't Exactly What You Planned) in the span of a few hours.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! Not sure I want to, either, although maybe someday...

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? from all fandoms?

IT'S THE MISFORTUNE'S KEEP. I don't do romance, not really, although to properly answer that I will confess that I do like Jaya enough to write it now and then.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't really have any WIPs in limbo right now, so I don't have an answer here? Either I finish a fic or I lay it to rest when the momentum dies. No middle ground.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I've been told that I'm very good at comedic timing and imagery! I love trying to paint the mental image of a room - sometimes I even do floor plans to help me out.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

I worry that my action writing is a little too straightforward - I write like I had to when I was a stage manager, so my actions are VERY cut and dried. It helps me visualize better, so I'm unlikely to change, but I wonder sometimes if my readers get sick of it.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've never done it, but I think it's a cool idea!

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Ninjago. I've never written fic for any other.

20. favorite fic you've written?

My favorite usually tends to be my most recent, so that honor goes to If I Can Think (Of Something Clever). It also breaks a few records - both in personal best fic length, and in the fact that it's the first fic I've ever seen that comprehensively gets to Nya's experience during e63 instead of just nodding at it during the aftermath. That entire series is fueled by that "be the fic author you want to see in the world" idea, because let's be real - there isn't a lot of Nya centric Skybound content. When there is, it's usually aftermath, but I want to see the thick of it! I'm doing my best out here.

[itsclydebitches]

I'm ngl I feel kinda afraid to mention any positive aspects abt the show bc it feels abit nowadays like you just, can't enjoy it anymore. Like no matter what RWBY does you won't be happy and any positive aspects mentioned you'd find a way to turn into something bad or Not Good Enough and idk I love most of your essays but that kinda throws me off. I just wish you were able to watch it a bit less... Against It. Hating it is fine, I hate it, it's a horribly written horribly paced mess with awful characters, awful humour and the worst voice acting in the industry, but I can unapologetically appreciate when a good scene happens and it feels like you can't, or at least can't without adding 50 asterisks and conditionals and ways it could be better. IDK it makes me a bit sad sometimes, since you dedicate so much time to this.

I feel you, anon, though we've known this was coming for years. Unlike a collection of short stories or other, separated media, the longer RWBY makes mistakes the more future content is going to suffer. Four years past where I personally think the show started having serious issues, yeah, there's more to criticize than praise (imo, obviously) and I'm not inclined to pretend otherwise. You say yourself, "I hate it, it's a horribly written, horribly paced mess with awful characters, awful humor, and the worst voice acting in the industry" so honestly I'm a little confused as to where you think these good scenes are that I'm missing. If the plot, tone, characters, humor, and acting all suck, what are we left with? And if you "hate" the show, why would you expect others to find more to praise?

Personally, I feel like I do appreciate the good scenes when we see them, but yeah, they're going to come with those 50 asterisks because, as said, everything is interconnected. If the show does a good job depicting Ruby's grief over Penny, I'm still going to question why we didn't get that when she first died. If the show nails an awesome "I'm still just small" line from Little, that unfortunately makes all the terrible humor surrounding it that much more apparent. My recaps strive to unpack all the aspects that I see, which means that after years of missteps the good stuff is coming with a huge load of baggage. For me, it would be a serious misrepresentation of the text to go, "Wow, Weiss hitting herself in the head with a rock sure was funny! Good on RWBY for writing such a comedic scene" and just ignore the context of that interrupting Ruby's grief because I don't want my recaps to be too mean. These recaps aren't going to RT. They're not written with the intention coaxing a writer towards improvement without breaking their spirit. There's absolutely no reason why I should pull punches - say less than everything I'm thinking - especially in a fandom that already works so hard to paint RWBY as better than I personally think it is.

I'm not going to insult you by assuming your intentions, but frankly I really dislike this whole 'It's so sad you can't enjoy the show anymore, you've dedicated so much to this, what's the point if you're not praising it?' perspective. I've heard it a lot over the years and 99% of the time it's sanctimonious nonsense. Again, I'm not accusing you of that, anon, just acknowledging that a lot of people have tried to "help" me over the years not because they care, but because they don't want anyone criticizing RWBY and have realized that outright attacks haven't worked. But the reality is that you don't know me, or what I get out of RWBY, or what's an enjoyable way for me to spend my time. It's totally fine - and understandable - if you're upset that my recaps have grown more and more critical over the years, but the answer to that discomfort is to stop reading them. There's no constructive criticism to offer here, just an implied request for me to lie and say that I think the show is better written than it actually is... which isn't going to happen. You shouldn't be "afraid" to mention a positive take - the fandom is 99% positive takes - and if you don't like the idea of sending in an ask and me potentially disagreeing, there are thousands of other RWBY content creators who will give you an enthusiastic response. Yeah, it sucks that you can't read recaps overflowing with praise and it sucks that I can't write them, but that's due to RWBY making those major mistakes and allowing them to snowball for half a decade. As said, you claim to "hate" the show and provided a long list of its broad and far-reaching problems, anon. You should thus understand that the problem here is in RWBY being really badly written, not me acknowledging that it's really badly written.

[lumosatnight]

Talk to me about SNARRYYYYYY (had to sorry 😂) 💛

Send me a ship and I’ll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it (and also maybe a fic rec).

Haha hi Danni!!

Initial impression: confusion, hesitance, a little weirded out. Wasn't Severus in love with Harry's mom? Isn't that kinda creepy to be dating Lily's kid?

Improved impression: UNHINGED SCREAMING. Wasn't Severus in love with Harry's mom? Yes, and that's why this ship is so interesting (although one could argue it was platonic love but that was definitely not what was written in canon). Isn't that kinda creepy to be dating Lily's kid? Yes, and it creates such a fascinating relationship dynamic. Harry's eyes, Lily's eyes. Who does Severus really see when he looks at Harry? How can he resist falling for Harry when he already fell so hard for Lily all those years ago (and still carries a torch for her)? Answer: he can't.

In terms of cross-gen pairings for Severus, Snarry is probably my favorite. I don't really see him as the type of person to go after one of his students unless it was under very pressurized circumstances. Say, for example, in the middle of a war and he's just trying to do his goddamm best at keeping this infuriating kid alive. I could also possibly see Snaco, but that's an essay for another day. Although Eldritcher has an amazing Snudley fic that I devoured.

Surprisingly enough, I also enjoy reading Snarry in different AUs, outside the HP universe or the war doesn't exist universes. I attribute that largely to you actually. You kept posting so many Snarry recs in the CoMS discord, and I kept clicking them haha. But I do think their underlying personalities remain. Severus is an insecure, bitter, ugly (yes ugly) man. He thinks the best years of his life were stolen from him. He does not see any reason to care. Harry is an impassioned, stubborn, reckless youth. He listens to Severus. He finds a way to get past that bitter exterior and in a way Severus lets him. He makes Severus feel seen when really that was all he ever wanted.

And wow, that turned into a whole essay. Apparently, I have more thoughts about Snarry than I thought. I've never written a full Snarry fic, but I am oh-so-tempted by the Snarry AUctober Fest.

-

My ship rating: Snarrytastic

My fic rec: Miraculous by @liladiurne [E, 15.5k]

When Severus finds out that the gorgeous and charming young man Lucius set him up with, the one who's accompanying him to his mother's charity ball, is really a hired escort, he is furious and disappointed. At first. But then he realises he can use this to his advantage. After years of celibacy, he's finally found someone he connects with, someone who understands him. And this time, Severus actually has the means to see him again. Or the money. But if money's what it takes to spend time with Harry, then he's more than willing to drain his family's fortune. In an unexpected twist of faith, he might not need to.

(been thinking a lot about this fic recently and ik you've already read it because i'm pretty sure you're the one who recc'ed it on the server, but it keeps spinning around in my head. soooo goood)

[lovelanguageisolate]

Even if you proved to me that Evangelion sucks, I would still love it. One reason: it evokes many different feelings no other show before or after has for me.

All the scenes where Shinji refuses to save humanity because he first wants the adults in his life to acknowledge that they're being fucking assholes—wow, Shinji, that's obnoxious, but your actions...speak to me. It feels like I'm discovering the moral roots of all the spiteful behavior The Last Psychiatrist tends to write about.

The entirety of the scene where Shinji strangles Asuka in End of Evangelion is one of the most painful things I've seen in my entire life. I don't have familiar words for it. As Asuka scratches Shinji away and Shinji climbs her like a tree: Please, stop hurting each other. Shinji, how can you be this abusively clingy? Asuka, how can you be so cold and mean? My God. And then Shinji strangling her was like mainlining incel spree killer stuff into my psyche. The fact that they were both 14 made it worse. It felt so awful that I needed a solid week to recover from the depressive episode that sent me into. No other show has done that to me.

The early adolescence of the pilots and the way it so violently collides with the circumstances they're in—the world needing those scared, self-centered, horribly mistreated kids—I'm just a sucker for it. I'm sorry. I have been for that kind of storytelling since I was 13 at the latest, and I guess I still am now.

There's also a lot of other stuff that, while not absent from other things, doesn't seem so thoroughly explored. What is it really like to be a teenage boy who is surrounded by women you mistrust but are also attracted to, and in whose contemptuous gaze you eventually find a strange comfort? What is it like to be a teenage girl who knows she's fully replaceable and rolls her eyes at people who don't feel duty is enough? What's it like to be a teenage girl who is really all alone? What is it like to feed on attention but never feel full because you don't respect the judgement of those giving the attention? Why are crushes formed in early adulthood often so painful? Why do family members who can't get along force themselves to spend time together? These questions are too vulnerable to really make light of, so the show doesn't except in very light-hearted ways. The show is sexual without being prurient. The show is also prurient, but the most sexual parts of the show aren't really offered up for gawking (except, of course, by fans. Who...have gawked, on their own...a great deal in fact).

Freud is still one of the best thinkers about sexuality, and Evangelion is kind of what convinced me about that. The sheer volumes of doujinshi and stories about Eva seem a vote in that direction. Some eva fanfics are among the best essays on trauma and sex ever written. Woody Allen is such a lightweight, honestly.

[gellavonhamster]

🔥 The Secret History, thanks :)

None of the blogs I follow post about it much, so I admit I don't have the best samples here, but from what I've seen, it seems to me the general attitude towards TSH on Tumblr has shifted. There seems to be more posts pointing out that this book is satire and we're not meant to want to emulate the characters than there was 7-10 years ago; there also seems to be more posts pointing out how darkly funny this book is at times. I think this is tied to the much-talked-about "ageing Tumblr userbase" phenomenon. Users who've been here for many years first read this book as teens or very young adults, got enamoured with its atmosphere and aesthetic, had a mild to severe case of dark academia, and couldn't help romanticizing the story and the characters at least a little bit. Then they (or rather, us - I also read this book in a single sitting at night, and it blew up my brain) got older and able to see the story as the rebuke of the kind of people Donna Tartt herself met in college, as a cautionary tale warning against arrogance and snobbery. That doesn't mean stopping to appreciate the beauty of this book, by the way. It's written in a manner that brings out the Richard Papen is all of us - the hunger for sophistication, culture, close-knit friendships, being one of the chosen few, being oh so interesting and not like the others. I actually think that being first enchanted by this story and then going "oh wow that's fucked up" is a normal way of engaging with it. Perhaps the intended one.

It transcends just The Secret History, really. Again, I don't follow enough thematically relevant blogs to be able to judge with confidence, but my impression is that the engagement with dark academia in general has changed. There's more awareness of the classism and racism characteristic of this... let's call it "genre", for simplicity's sake, though it's not quite a genre. From time to time - on Twitter, for example, where I follow some published writers - I see ads for new dark academia books that are (or at least are marketed as being) more diverse and inclusive, more aimed at unmasking the real dark aspects of real academia, such the aforementioned classism, racism, sexism. The only such new books I've read are Leigh Bardugo's Alex Stern novels - Ninth House and Hell Bent, which are kind of dark academia mixed with urban fantasy - so I can't talk about the rest of them. Maybe they aren't good. A lot of contemporary stuff that's aggressively promoted Tiktok-style isn't. But there appears to be a tendency among modern (young) writers to approach this genre with less of rose-tinted-glasses kind of view while preserving its atmosphere that they must've fallen in love with as the readers of this genre in the first place. That's character development, and I love that for us.

Sorry this turned into an essay with little to no actual hot takes on TSH specifically, I got carried away.