#Protagonists and heroes are NOT the same thing

[kdinjenzen]

🔥anime

The characters in anime aren't fucking white and I need people to stop pretending they are. 99% of anime characters aren't white or intended to be seen as white. Americans and Europeans only see them as such because that's what they want to see and then disregard the characters names, culture, and the entire plot of the goddamn show.

Most "popular" anime treat their female protagonists like garbage or don't even really have any and I'm tired of people pretending that Dragon Ball, Bleach, Naruto, My Hero, AoT, etc treat women like anything other than something to laugh at, ignore, or objectify.

There are plenty of actual queer manga/anime out there and people just refuse to acknowledge any of it because it's not "right" or "perfect" because they often deal with real queer issues and real queer people but no body wants to see that because they just want "a gay kiss" and will scream "SUCH GOOD REP" when a lot of the popular stuff is watered down bullshit. (Same goes for any mainstream queer stuff tbh, often the fault of the publishing/production companies and not the creators themselves but I stand by my statement)

Dubs are difficult and the reason people don't like them as much is because acting to a dub to match existing lip flap movements means that some lines will always naturally feel stilted even if they have the best translators/localizers working their asses off for pennies to make a good adaptation. It's not the fault of the actors, directors, or localizers... it's the fault that dubs naturally have a more challenging ladder to climb to match up to the original which was animated to the performance of other actors.

"The animation didn't do nearly as cool things as the manga!" - yeah no shit, because the animation industry in Japan is built of such horrible labor practices that people burn out and end up physically, emotionally, and mentally suffering due to the workload, work hours, and below poverty-line pay. The fact that there's such brilliant artists being treated so poorly anywhere is horrifying but the fact that fans then shit all over them for no reason is just stupid as hell.

The popularity of anime and proportions for anime girls has done irreparable damage to the appreciation and love of body diversity in real life. Stop trying to look like an anime girl and start looking at yourselves as human beings.

[not-quite-graceful]

Hey, um… with the whole “Bluejay!Jason” concept… has anybody ever considered it as an Inkheart reference instead of just a play off his name?

Follow me here, and sorry in advance, this turned into a ramble.

In the second book of the Inkheart trilogy, Inkspell, one of the main protagonists adopts a Robin Hood-esque approach to defeating the tyrant king, and adopts the name of ‘The Bluejay’ from famous folk legends and songs written by a beloved poet and often sung by travelling minstrels. He’s -Inkspell spoilers ahead, though this book is unironically older than I am- known for toppling said tyrant’s throne through the binding of a magic book (a recurring theme throughout the series, if you’ve never read it, which you should). He’s a champion among the Motley Folk, who were that world’s equivalent to a travelling circus and also regularly aid him in his quest to topple the Adderhead (the tyrant king mentioned above), and sought to help the poor and downtrodden. The Bluejay is aided and abetted by his family and friends, which include a shapeshifting wife, a daughter with the ability to make anything she reads come true, a fire-dancer who can speak to the flames, and a knife-throwing 'circus' prince with a black bear companion. (They're not called the Motley Folk for no reason, people!)

Now, consider for a moment: Little Jason Todd, in the local library, absolutely devouring the Inkheart series. It's everything a little kid could dream of in a fantasy book! And there's three of these fat books, what more could you possibly want? And he has an excuse to sit in a warm, safe building for a few hours.

Now imagine, Inkspell becomes his comfort book. Of course it does- every kid had one, and I can't imagine an orphan who grew up alone on the streets of Gotham picking anything other than a story about a strange man helping the opressed and downtrodden in a land he grows to call his own with the help of his family- and The Bluejay is an excellent father to his daughter, too, of course Jason pictured himself as part of that family, as whisked away into that world.

And of course, the rest of the series is wonderful too -Inkheart is where it all began, after all, and Inkdeath is the final triumph over evil!-, but Inkspell is a story about becoming. About learning to be more than you were born as- after all, if Mo the simple bookbinder could become the hero The Bluejay, what could Jason the street orphan become?

Maybe, instead of discovering this book in a library, he found it in the trash. And maybe he wondered, as he read it, why anyone would ever want to throw away the tale of Mo the Blujay, of Meggie the Silvertongue, of Resa the brave swift, of Dustfinger the loyal Fire-Dancer? (And maybe the last one took a while to get there, but he did get there! Eventually! And maybe Jason can understand why it took Dustfinger so long to truly come to trust someone again, because trust is a terribly dangerous thing to give to someone, because you can never really know what they'll do with it.) Maybe he read it through without knowing anything about Capricorn or The Shadow or why they feared the man named Basta, because they hadn't thrown away the first book, only the second. Maybe he wept for the death of Dustfinger, at the very end, because he didn't know that Death wouldn't keep him, because they hadn't thrown away the third book.

Maybe Inkspell found its place among his most treasured possessions. Maybe, when he met Batman and Bruce Wayne in one night and his life changed forever, Inkspell came with him, with its familiar story and characters and world and sorrows.

Maybe one of the first things Bruce did, upon seeing Jason reading that same battered old paperback, was to order Inkheart and Inkdeath and leave them in his room. Maybe that was when Jason started to realize that he wasn't going to leave forever.

(Maybe Jason and Dick would play Motley Folk together, because Dick was in the circus and could most certainly throw knives, even if it gave Bruce a heart attack every time he saw it.)

And maybe, after he could no longer have Robin, he remembered that old paperback book, that old story and that old world, and he thought of a new name for himself.

Bluejay, he thought, as he picked up the book that had been his constant companion for so many years. I'll be The Bluejay.

(I don't really know what this is. I saw some Bluejay!Jason art the other day and just started thinking of the Inkheart trilogy and the fact that Jason would absolutely have read it and probably loved it. And then it spiralled.)

[physalian]

Villain Power Scaling (It's over 9000!)

@sarah-sandwich ask and you shall receive

Quick! We wrote an insanely, unexpectedly successful one-off fantasy series! How do we top the villain?

A bigger, badder giant space laser

The villain’s secret jealous sister

The same power, but purple now

The True Mastermind you’ve never heard of

JK, they’re not actually dead!

When you choose to continue on a series and have already committed to possibly destroying the legacy of the characters who fought and died to save the world once by undoing it for money, you had better have a damn good story to tell.

So if you decide your new threat is any of the above, you have quite the uphill battle ahead of you, my friend.

What is Power Scaling?

Power scaling is the nature of the ability of the heroes and the villains to grow more competent over the course of the story via new skills, new powers, or more training. Protagonist’s first fight (that they win, at least) will generally be against a baby, tier-one mook and not up against the main antagonist (*cough* Force Awakens *cough*)

As the story progresses, the mook that was so scary and so hard to beat oh so very long ago will become unnamed cannon fodder in the climax of the story. Generally speaking, this is a linear event and the hero and the villain are constantly one-upping each other until they come head to head in the unavoidable final fight.

Sometimes, things run askew. Maybe the hero’s super special power that saved them last time was a fluke, possible only in those specific circumstances, or one-time use.

Maybe they have amnesia, or the being that gave them that power revoked it, or using it cost them too much. Maybe they got seriously injured in the last fight using it and can no longer go near it if they want to not get hospitalized. Maybe the super power was another character that won the final fight for them last time, but died in the process.

It doesn’t have to be linear, but if you’re going to regress your character without creating a “why didn’t you do what you did last time” plot hole, you will need an ironclad excuse.

So, feast your eyes while I summon the Supernatural fandom back from the dead.

What not to do, as told by Supernatural

This show was originally written to last five seasons and five seasons only. No matter how die hard a fan you are or were, you cannot escape this fact, and neither could the writers.

Season one villain: A demon and her demonic minions

Season two villain: Psychic demon children and Papa Demon Yellow-Eyes

Season three villain: OG Demon Lilith, and Dean’s ticking demon-deal clock

Season four villain: OG Demon Lilith and preventing the rise of Satan

Season five villain: Satan and some douchebag Angels

Then you have Ten. More. Seasons. trying to do better than Satan and the douchebag angels to… varying levels of success and stupidity.

The problem: Supernatural tried to be linear with their power scaling, focusing on ramping up the threat level to nonsensical ends while undermining the threat level of all who came before.

The other problem: Sam, Dean, and Cas never stayed dead long enough for any of these threats to matter.

What I mean is this: In making the threat of the season so impossibly strong, by threatening the world over and over again no matter how many times they save it, by never committing to killing your three most important characters, by never letting the world go a little unsaved in the end, you’re left with a story that *says* it’s bigger, badder, bolder, but is really just a rinse and repeat that goes blander and blander each time.

Coming off Satan and the Douchebag Angels to… Cas and Crowley conspiring over the souls of Purgatory and the unseen war in Heaven because they didn’t have the budget for that, without any of the thematic weight of *why* it was angels and demons? Talk about a loss of momentum.

I rewatch a grand total of one episode of season six, “The French Mistake”. I have lost all context for the plot surrounding this episode and it’s virtually independent of the rest of the season because Sam and Dean get transported into the Real World as Jensen and Jared and poke fun at each other for 52 minutes. This episode is timeless.

The show wasn’t a complete disappointment for the remaining ten seasons or it wouldn’t have lasted that long. It had good beats, but they shot their load in Season Five. After five whole years of buildup to this main event it never recovered.

Alternatives to Linear Power Scaling

Anyone who has or even hasn’t seen Dragon Ball should know that series is famous for infinite power scaling. There’s always someone stronger, always some new secret powerup to unlock with the power of Screaming, always some new Super Sayan color that we promise is more powerful this time, for realsies.

That show is so dedicated to the bit that it’s gone full circle to being loved, not despite it, but because it’s so ridiculous.

You did not write Dragon Ball. Do not do this.

Instead of the infamous clashing multicolored power beams, what other ways can you up the ante of this new threat after your heroes have conquered all they thought stood in their way?

Give a damn good reason why this villain, who is no different than the last schmuck, is unbeatable by the macguffin this time.

As stated above, there’s no need to make the villain More Powerful* if your heroes have lost the world-saving abilities that helped them last time.

Exploit the hero’s other weaknesses

More Powerful* is never as exciting as you think it is. Often times, especially in superhero sequels, the villain isn’t necessarily stronger, but the niche power that they do have finds the chink in the hero’s armor that they didn’t have to worry about last time.

Make the hero’s niche skillset completely irrelevant

This time, the threat might not be something they can punch or shoot or smack with a hammer. This time, it’s their reputation at stake, or the villain is un-punchable because they’re simply unreachable, causing havoc the hero is helpless to stop.

Make the issue not the villain at all, but the hero or their team

Maybe the villain is just a schmuck that would be beatable on any other day, but team infighting means that they make utter asses of themselves and the villain doesn’t have to lift a finger to win because they’ve taken themselves out.

This can get very dramatic like in Captain America: Civil War or the Teen Titans epside "Divide and Conquer". Or, to comedic effect in the Spongebob Episode "Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy V" (the one with the International Justice League of Super Acquaintances).

Some would argue that the above options aren’t power scaling at all if it’s not linear, and that’s fair. You’re telling a story though—is your story going to be about the superpowers and how cool they are, or the people who wield them?

3. It’s not actually power scaling, it’s about stakes

Supernatural began to feel so stale because even though we were told the villain this time was bigger, badder, bolder, the stakes were always the same. OSP has talked about this, how threatening to end the world has a foregone conclusion of “never actually gonna happen” because what author is crazy enough to let the world get blown up and all their characters murdered?

Raising the stakes, too, is not linear. Last time it was the world, this time, it’s the life of the love interest, it’s someone’s sanity, it’s a ticking clock on a secret that’s about to go public.

That’s why the first five seasons of Supernatural were so engaging. Were Demons the problem every time? Yes. The Demons were causing the problem, but they were causing five different problems. It was finding and saving their missing dad, then it was uncovering the sinister plan of the psychic demon children, then it was trying to escape Dean’s deal, then it was trying to stop the rise of Satan, then it was trying to stop the apocalypse. It was not five seasons of demons trying to destroy the world.

The more personal the stakes, the more likely your audience will believe the hero could actually lose this time. That’s what will keep them engaged. Dean died at the end of season 3! They lost! There was no escaping that deal. Sure he came back in the pilot of season 4, but the entire 4th and 5th seasons are haunted by Dean’s PTSD and new pessimism about the world given what he’s seen and done in Hell.

4. Threatening the world without destroying a legacy

Covered in this post about timeskips and this post about sequels but it’s too important to not keep repeating.

So. The Star Wars sequels. Rain down your wrath like snow on a hot desert—these movies were a giant mess. The audience sat through six entire movies following the rise, fall, and redemption of one man who died to save his son and the galaxy.

Then, what, twenty years later, absolutely none of it mattered? New space Nazis are out for blood with the same equipment, same weapons, same soldiers, same reach, same motives. Within the theatrical release (because I am not paying money to buy content to do homework to understand a movie made for a layman audience) these movies undermined the legacy of the six that came before it.

It didn’t have to be a new galaxy-ending regime and the same rebels still rebelling for the same reasons—how the heck did they let another empire rise so fast?—it could have started small, inconsequential, and then the actions of the new cast then undermined everything Anakin worked for.

I feel like Mr. Incredible wondering why the world can’t just stay saved for ten minutes.

All of this is salvageable. End the world again if you want. There will always be bad actors out to do bad things, you can’t expect a utopia to last forever. But that bleak reality is for the real world, not fantasy. In fantasy, the sacrifice of beloved characters must matter. Otherwise, what’s the point of their story?

How do you do this?

Make the utopia the old characters died for last up until the new inciting incident, and make sure it’s the new characters’ fault, not just due to the passage of time

Make the villain threaten something other than their legacy

Make that legacy the banner behind which the new cast rallies, determined to make sure it wasn’t in vain

5. Or, burn the world down this time

Some of the best middle beats of a story feature a “did we just lose” moment a la Infinity War. The villain has won, fan favorites are dead, their home is in ashes, and now they’re not only starting from the bottom, they’re doing it with righteous vengeance.

Then the loss of the original character’s legacy *is* the tragedy, instead of a side effect. Then, in a way, they’re still part of the story, a ghost on the sidelines cheering on their successors, and we, the audience, are right beside them.

—

I have a shiny, fresh-off-the-press Insta @chloe_barnes_books now for this blog and my upcoming novel. Go check it out!

[lalal-99]

of being true {l.f.} | track 5

©June 2023, April 2024 by lalal-99

Lee Felix x Jung Wooyoung | trope: strangers to lovers | word count: 9.2k

Synopsis: The one that's about Felix and other pretty people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Smut tags: explicit content | porn with plot | first time with the same gender | oral (m. rec.) | body worshipping | teasing | anal sex | top/sub dynamics | top!felix | Felix is whipped | sex under the influence (they're not wasted but definitely tipsy) | soft sex | nothing too spicy, honestly, but so, sooo many emotions

Note: This is an interim chapter. You don't need to read this chapter to understand the rest of the main plot. But I advise you do, because it's just so beautiful. Truly one of the best things I have ever written. (Reposting, cause the first upload tanked...)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You

Felix learned he was gay at the tender age of 7. That was if he were completely honest with himself.

It happened on a beautiful Sunday morning in his suburban Sydney home. He had just prepped himself a bowl of fruit loops, clad in his pyjamas with his favourite blanket in hand. That’s how he made himself a home on the sofa, turning on the TV with the volume on low so his parents wouldn’t wake. Switching through channels his parents had forbidden him to watch, he finally landed on Nickelodeon. And that’s when he saw him.

Danny.

Phantom, if that wasn’t clear already.

All the kids at school had talked about the show for weeks, raving over who they thought Danny would end up with. Sam—the sarcastic best friend—or Jazz—the cutesy love interest. Pretty, beautiful and whitty were some of the words his friends referred to them as. Felix needed to see for himself and make up his mind. If not to admire their animated beauty, at least to determine who he preferred.

Needless to say, all intentions went out the window once he saw the underdog protagonist. His hair as black as the night and his eyes as blue as the ocean minutes away from Felix’s house. And that was only the human form of one Danny Fenton. No one could have prepared Felix for the incredible looks of his super-hero alter-ego. His icy grey hair and green eyes were truly something else, and Felix was soon captivated by the fictitious character. A fabricated figure drawn with pencil, but even so the hero of his childhood.

In hindsight, Felix should have known it right then and there.

While his friends argued the show’s female characters, he fantasised protecting Amity Park alongside his idol. Telling him his deepest secrets and hugging him in glee at the end of each episode.

As he was only a child, Felix didn’t think to investigate the intensity of his affection further. He pushed it to the back of his mind. Argued that he didn’t watch the show for its romantic aspects whenever someone asked him about his prefered love interest.

Despite ignoring the nagging thought for all his childhood—oblivious to a deeper meaning behind it—it caught up with him at some point. And that point came in the form of one Cassidy Miller.

Cassidy was one of Felix’s classmates in Year 8. Upon laying eyes on him on the first day of the year, she made it her main plot point to become his girlfriend. During lunch that first day, she chose the seat next to him in the cafeteria, sharing some of her homemade snacks. As a teenage boy amid a growth spurt, he accepted with not another word of persuasion. He didn’t even consider it to be an advance of sorts. Even when his friend high-fived him after the fact, Felix understood it as an act of kindness. Cassidy was trying to make some friends after moving to town weeks prior. Nothing out of the ordinary.

It took him about three weeks of shared snacks every day and a kiss on his cheek to recognise that, yes. A girl had a crush on him. And everything would have been fine. Hadn’t it been for the slight complication that he didn’t feel the same about her. Cassidy was sweet. He would even agree that she was cute with her bunny nose and blonde locks. Conventionally attractive features for a 14-year-old girl.

Before he could break the truth to her, though, she had already introduced him to her parents. Quick, but Felix didn’t get the chance to intervene. He didn’t even know she wanted to introduce them when she asked him to follow her to the parking lot. Let alone introduce him as her boyfriend, much to her father’s dismay.

So, at the fragile age of 14, Felix found himself in a heterosexual relationship with a girl he barely knew but didn’t have the heart to break up with. As though being an unknowing closeted teenager wasn’t enough already.

That relationship, as innocent as it was, lasted 6 months. At most, it consisted of hand-holding and handwritten notes passed during class. Still, it lasted long for a first relationship Felix had no intention of having in the first place.

When Cassidy revealed that her dad had been relocated for the umpteenth time, Felix was even a little sad. She left after only 7 months, thus ending the relationship as it had begun—completely out of his control.

One should think: A closeted gay teen who just came out of a heterosexual relationship he hadn’t intended having? Definitely won’t do that again in the near future.

And that thought was fair. But wrong.

It took around 2 months after Cassidy left when Emily Wilson came into Felix’s life.

Emily was different from Cassidy in many ways. She was one year Felix’s senior, held back a year for grade-related reasons. She had black hair and a sidecut. Eyelids always painted in a thick layer of dark eyeliner which made her look at least two years older than she was. She had a nose ring her parents hadn’t allowed her to get and wore combat boots like part of a religion. Every word leaving her lips was drenched in sarcasm, which drew Felix to her right from the beginning.

It didn’t take Felix more than a few weeks to accept it. If he were to ever have a relationship with another girl, it would be a girl like Emily.

Fortunately for him, she and Cassidy had one thing in common. They were both pretty much obsessed with him from the moment they first laid eyes on him.

Whatever was drawing them to him, Felix decided that what anyone in his position would do, was make a move on Emily. Everyone in his class was obsessing over who was with whom. All his friends went from relationship to relationship in weekly rhythms. So, getting a girlfriend himself was the logical thing to do.

The 1.5 years he spent with Emily were the most fun but excruciating months of his life. Being with someone that long was hard, as much as he loved getting to know every part of her life.

He liked Emily’s parents, and they thought he had a positive influence on their daughter. But they were uber controlling and burst into her room every few minutes to check on them and what they were doing.

He adored Emily’s love for music and art. Every picture she drew for him and every mixtape she made proudly displayed in his room. But, she didn’t allow any opinions on the topics that didn’t correlate with her own. Felix’s love for Pop music? A slap in the face of a proud anti-capitalist. Felix’s one-year-anniversary plans to visit a special exhibition in the museum? Another penny in the pocket of the rich, making them even wealthier.

He fell apart at the touch of Emily’s hands and mouth. Losing his virginity to her left him breathless and in a sweaty sheen for hours. But, as much as he didn’t mind sleeping with her, he couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling. She always made the first move. And he was not only lying to himself but to her.

Their relationship was a constant back-and-forth. Liking her while not liking her enough to want a serious future. No matter how hard Felix tried, keeping up the facade became more agonising with every I love you. Eventually, Emily could tell something was eating at her boyfriend. And after 18 unforgettable months together, she finally had enough. She left him with usual harsh words and exhausted tears of relief in his eyes.

Even then, as the doubt and exhaustion finally reached the front lobe of his brain, it took him a couple more years and 3 more relationships to come to terms with reality.

Felix was gay and wouldn’t continue lying to everyone around him.

Well, except for his parents, who, despite living in a modern country, had different values. They weren’t particularly homophobic, though they approached the movement with ignorance. That’s other people. That would never happen to us.

Thankfully, by the time Felix realised he would never be content in a heterosexual relationship, he had already set his eyes on further education abroad. And once he finished High School, he was already packed and ready to head overseas to live as his true self.

Never in a million years had Felix expected to live that true self so early in this new chapter of his life. He had barely set foot onto campus when he bumped into a guy on his way out of the physiology building. Felix almost lost balance but the man grabbed his biceps, delicate fingers steadying him against himself. That’s when he met the guy’s gaze. Beautiful mahogany, surrounded by a sheen of gold eyeliner. Which only made them sparkle even further than Felix was sure they already did. His hair died in layers of blonde and black, ears adorned by so many earrings he couldn’t have counted them. And that cheeky smile on his lips made Felix want to taste him right then and there.

Instead, Felix pulled away, smoothing his t-shirt out as he hugged his bag closer to himself. It gave his hands something to do while hiding the semi he sported. From a short-lived, innocent physical contact, but nonetheless.

“You good?” the guy asked, and Felix nodded, eyes wide as though he had seen a ghost. The man swiped his thumb over his plumb bottom lip with a smirk and a wink as he brushed past Felix. “Next time, keep your eyes on what’s important. Alright, Pretty?”

Pretty. Felix subconsciously nodded at the words as the man rounded the corner with another look back. He remained still for approximately minutes before he shook himself to snap out of it.

And that could have been it. A short, embarrassing moment like he had had so many times before. But that wasn’t Felix’s luck.

God screamed You should see your face at Felix when he entered his Psychology 101 class days later. The same boy stood by the entrance, talking to another guy who looked a little too good in his pink hair.

Felix skimmed past him, feeling the man’s gaze trained on his back as he wordlessly sat between two girls. Anything so he wasn’t exposed to the man’s enticing presence. Making his heart race like that of an untouched virgin.

That’s when Felix diagnosed: He might not be as ready to live his true self as he had thought.

The decision to take his time exploring his identity was easily made. Yet, the pledge lasted only 4 days.

“Hi, man! How’s it going?”

The first thing Felix noticed about the man in front of Jisung was the age difference.

Jisung might have been Felix’s age phsyically, but he usually carried himself with a heightened sense of maturity. His long-term girlfriend definitely was the cause for that, so much the countless dirty jokes had told Felix.

Jackson, on the contrary, had a sense of wiseness to him. He must have made many a experience that still awaited Felix and Jisung. What exactly made Felix feel like that, he couldn’t pinpoint. Although it likely wasn’t the baggy clothing or the Gucci snapback. Jackson must have come from money, was all Felix took away from them. And if it weren’t for Jackson’s clothing, the golden earrings and chain around his neck would have said as much.

“I’m alright. The workload already has me in a chokehold. But I’ll manage,” Jisung joked with his old friend before turning to Felix. “Jackson, this is my roommate, Felix. Felix, Jackson.”

“Nice to meet you!” Jackson greeted him as he pulled him into a bro-hug. The first of many, Felix was sure.

“Likewise.”

“So, already swimming in the workload? If it’s too much already, I wouldn’t advise picking Medicine as a Major. I was studying until the second the first guests arrived. And I will continue the moment the house is empty.”

A future doctor? Jackson? Definitely not what Felix had expected, but he didn’t know the guy. All he could go from was the first impression. He knew better than to judge from that alone.

“I’ll keep that in mind. You should tell Y/N before she suggests I also become a doctor.”

“She’s still not giving up on you picking a Major, huh?”

“I swear it’s everything she talked about the past two months.” Felix looked around the place, trying his hardest to ignore the words coming from his friend. It wasn’t like he knew everything about their relationship, nor was he picking sides in this debate. But hearing Jisung talk behind her back like that? It filled him with slight unease. “I love her, but it’s annoying.”

“You probably don’t want to hear it, but she has a point.”

Again, not what Felix had expected from Jackson. Taking Y/N’s side like that.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a semester to figure things out, but you’ll have to pick one eventually.” Jackson could tell from Jisung’s expression that this wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But...” Jackson opened three beer bottles from the sink before handing two of them over to Felix and Jisung. “That’s a conversation for tomorrow. Or next week. Right now, we party.”

“Hell, yeah!” Jisung agreed with a cheer before toasting the other two and downing half his bottle.

Felix took a sip, face scrunching at the bitter aftertaste of the liquid. He had never quite grown accustomed to the flavour of beer, his tastebuds preferring vodka or rum. Anything that mixed well with soft drinks.

While Jackson and Jisung chatted away like two estranged friends (which, for as much as Felix had understood, they were), Felix’s gaze wandered through the doorway into the living room. The house gradually filled with young students—some yet sober, some already intoxicated. Felix started appreciating Jisung by his side, so he didn’t have to approach this situation alone. Even if Jisung, right now, was ignoring his presence for his old friend.

Distracted by the loud music, Felix took a few steps out of the kitchen, when suddenly, he got knocked off his feet. Or at least almost.

He would have planted his face straight into the tiled flooring hadn’t it been for a set of delicate fingers coming to his biceps and steadying him. And if it weren’t already a complete recap of his encounter on the first day, Felix met the same mahogany eyes yet again.

Sweet, sweet irony.

The guy recognised him soon enough, a smirk appearing on his beautiful face. How he could be so enticing and cheeky without saying a word was beyond Felix.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

Invisible strings drew Felix’s eyes to the man’s face, hanging on the way his lips moved whenever he spoke. He was in total awe of how someone could sound so sweet while having the fucking confidence of a... Well, if Felix had to name it, he would have called it fuckboy. Although, he didn’t want to judge a book by its cover. Even if this particular book was extremely easy on the eyes.

“You good?”

“Huh?”

“I asked you if you were alright.”

“Oh, of course. Yes, I’m good.”

“Good.” And there it was again. That stupid smirk made Felix feel things he didn’t know he had the mental capacity to feel. Emotions he had prayed to feel for Cassidy, Emily, Tina and all the others, he instead felt for some stranger the second he laid eyes on him. Like a complete loser. “You’re Felix, right?”

Eyebrows raising at the sound of his name from the stranger’s mouth, Felix swallowed thickly. “Yes. How do you know?”

“We have Psychology 101 together.” The first non-flirtatious words coming from the man, though that didn’t last long. “And I always remember the pretty faces.”

Pretty. That word, again, made Felix’s stomach churn and his pants tighten. Internally, he scolded himself for being so new to this that the simple compliment could affect him like this.

“I’m—You—Erm—” Felix stumbled over his thoughts pathetically. The stranger’s eyes kept running over all Felix’s features and he was very aware of it. He must have thought Felix was an utter basket-case. If he wanted to keep the last bit of pride, he had to get it together. Quick. “What’s your name?”

“Ouch,” the guy said as he placed his hand over a heart in mock hurt. “And here I hoped you had paid as much attention to me as I did you.”

What now? He had paid attention to Felix? When? How long? And why? Was this all part of a play, or was he kidding? Felix didn’t know what to think.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“No worries. I’m messing with you.” A breath of relief escaped Felix’s lips as he hoped the guy didn’t notice. “I’m Wooyoung. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“You, too,” Felix replied with the first smile in approximately hours.

“So, Felix. Now that I saved your life twice, what do you say we have a drink? It’s on me.”

Felix laughed at the joke as he pushed a strand of his blonde hair behind his ear.

“I already have one,” Felix explained, holding up the beer towards Wooyoung.

“Beer? You’re one of those guys?” Wooyoung asked with a sarcastic undertone, making Felix blush as he eyed the brown bottle.

“Actually, no. I never liked beer.” Placing the almost full bottle on the counter, he let Wooyoung guide him around the counter. A display of countless different liquors met them in a broad array.

“What’s your poison? Vodka? Gin?” Wooyoung questioned as he grabbed two red cups from the stack.

“Rum, actually.” The slight smile on Wooyoung flustered Felix as he hoped he hadn’t somehow made a fool of himself. Again. “What?”

“Nothing,” Wooyoung shrugged as he filled the two cups with a quarter rum before topping them off with coke. “I just know how to pick ‘em.” Felix didn’t know what he was hinting at, so he only smiled once Wooyoung handed him his drink. “To new acquaintances.”

“Yes. Acquaintances.”

With that, they toasted and took a sip each. The mixture of Captain Morgan and Coke gave Felix a sweet aftertaste. Much more comfortable than the beer had done, and he returned the smile Wooyoung sent him.

This whole situation was rather new to Felix. He had never been to a party like this. Single, that was. He never had the chance to meet someone on the go in a similar situation, and that reality filled him with unease. Despite having only met the guy, Felix wanted Wooyoung to like him. Whether that was a like in the we’ll become good friends sense or the give me all of you kinda way.

For a moment, Felix felt he was getting ahead of himself. He had met Wooyoung a few minutes ago. For all he knew, being flirtatious could have been engraved in his personality. Felix had arrived at campus mere days ago and even pledged to ease himself into this new, true identity. He definitely shouldn’t rush it.

As fast as he remembered that pledge he had taken, the memory evaporated. Wooyoung’s hand touched his hip, pulling him slightly closer, in front of everyone. Including his roommate and Jackson—two people he had no idea how they’d react to finding out his deepest secret. A secret he had never told anyone, on top of that.

“So, Felix—” Looking around the room, Felix soon realised that Jisung had left, and so had Jackson. A bunch of random people were running around, albeit ignoring the two guys in the corner, throwing googly eyes at each other. That realisation relaxed him almost entirely. “What’s your deal?”

Felix’s eyes met Wooyoung’s lips as he licked his own, a little nervous in the presence of someone so beautiful still. “What do you mean?”

“Are you, like, single? Hetero? Better tell me now before I fall for another straight guy.”

For someone so—unfamiliar, Felix felt himself drawn to anything Wooyoung did. Much more than he ever had with any of his ex-girlfriends. Sure, Felix was nervous around him, his hands shaking so heavily, he feared he’d spill his drink on the guy. At least some blame laid on his inexperience, blood rushing through his system like it was racing against itself. How was Wooyoung so self-assured and head-on anyways?

“I don’t know what to say.”

That was the truth. Felix had no idea how to answer such a straightforward question. Especially since he hadn’t said the words I am gay out loud, ever. Not even to himself. Expressing his personality to a stranger, out of all people, felt so out of place for him. Although he couldn’t deny the unmistakable magnetism pulling him towards Wooyoung.

“That’s okay. Because I know.”

The fingers at Felix’s hips dug into his flesh a little fiercer as Wooyoung closed in, breath hitting Felix’s cheek. Everything around him slowed in motion as his gaze switched from Wooyoung’s eyes to his lips, unsure of what to do or how to act. Would this be his first kiss with a man? With a stranger? In front of all these people? Tipsy from two unfinished drinks and Wooyoung’s presence alone?

“You do?” It took him a few seconds to finally reply, the tension becoming too much, too fast. “Maybe you can tell me. Because I have no fucking idea.”

Wooyoung laughed out loud at his words; a hearty laugh which sounded much like heaven to Felix. Some of the tension vanished as he took another deep breath and a long sip from his drink.

“And he’s funny, too. Damn, I really do know how to pick ‘em.”

The words made Felix blush as he averted his gaze towards the floor.

“I tell you what,” Wooyoung retracted his hands as his softening gaze met Felix’s anxious one. He must have noticed Felix’s unsure aura, torn between wanting to experience whatever Wooyoung had in mind and taking it slow. Felix had never been this happy about his expressional features. “How about you figure out what your deal is first? And when you do, come find me.”

As much as those words took the pressure off, Felix couldn’t deny the hint of disappointment pulling at his mood. He wanted to try and get him to close the proximity again, feeling cold after Wooyoung had pulled away. Sneakers screeching against the tiles soon captured their attention, rendering the moment gone. Felix recognised the owner as the same guy Wooyoung had been sitting next to in class. How could he have forgotten the bright pink hair and features as sharp as a fox’s?

“Dude, you gotta come watch this,” the guy exclaimed as he came over, dragging Wooyoung away by his hand. “Mingi is trying to do a keg-stand. It’s fucking hilarious. Like a giraffe trying to… well, do a kegstand.”

“No way!” With one last wink that made Felix’s knees weak, Wooyoung ran after his friend and out of Felix’s vision. It took him a few desperate moments to steady himself, hands still trembling from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Felix turned around, one, to tighten his grip around the counter and regain his balance, and two, conceal the boner which his pants did nothing to hide. His mind kept racing back to the proximity, the touches. The flirtatious words of a guy he barely knew but, at the same time, felt like he wanted to know everything about. The distance allowed him to realised how fast everything had played out. And while he feared it had happened all too fast, he couldn’t help but want to skip forward even further.

Perhaps, it was that he was desperate to finally get a taste of what he had denied himself for years. Crushes, love, passion. Everything his girlfriends had felt, but he never quite managed to. Making mistakes and gaining experience. Anything eventually leading him to alwaysness. With whomever that might be.

Although, right now, he wanted to have a sense of it with one particular person.

Two excruciating hours later, Felix found himself in the living area of the frat house. He had thought back to the moment in the kitchen so many times he could hardly count them. Not to mention how often he had gotten semi-hard thinking about Wooyoung’s breath against his cheek. His hands on his hips. And his words in his ear.

How about you figure out what your deal is first? And when you do, come find me.

But what if there was nothing to figure out? What if Felix already knew what he wanted and what his deal was? What if the only thing keeping him from acting on it was his inexperience?

All those what if’s jogging through Felix’s brain didn’t change anything. All he wanted—truly wanted at the moment—was to drag Wooyoung into the nearest closet and make him feel good. Have Wooyoung make him feel good. Whatever the guy was up for, honestly. Felix had spent the better part of two decades pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Now that he had a fresh start, he desired to finally be his true self.

It took him not 20 minutes longer until he decided that enough was enough.

Y/N, Yuqi and Changbin had left a while ago to play Truth or Drink in the kitchen, leaving Felix with a group of random boys. Sure, it was a group of boys he considered his closest friends on campus, but right now, they appeared so boring. Especially with a much more intriguing person, throwing him suggestive winks from the other end of the room.

How he had even noticed Wooyoung in the sea of drunk students was beyond him. Though Felix had no brain capacity left for the whys and hows. Wooyoung was sipping on his drink, playing with the straw about as suggestively as Felix had seen anyone do. Biting at the short fingernail of his pinky, Felix already felt the excitement nagging at his gut. The combination of clothes, alcohol and arousal ran him so very hot.

Wooyoung’s pink-haired friend didn’t notice he wasn’t paying him the slightest hint of attention. How ever important their conversation was, Felix couldn’t bring himself to care. This whole back and forth went on for a few minutes when Felix finally couldn’t take it anymore.

Without a word to his friends he got up from his seat, eyes drawn to the beautiful tempter at the other side of the room. Once Wooyoung recognised the intention behind Felix’s approach, he left his friend for the stairs.

The sway in his hips had Felix’s whole attention as he followed him upstairs, always a few steps behind to not alert the surrounding couples. As though they weren’t completely immersed in their make-outs and other grindings.

Once at the upper end of the staircase, Felix looked around to find the hallway empty. Someone must have ensured the private rooms remained private, and usually, this would have been the end of his path. Though the confidence in Wooyoung’s step encouraged Felix to push that to the deepest part of his brain.

His movements stayed cautious until he reached the end of the hall, entering the last room on the left. Felix took a deep breath as he closed the door and turned around. Not a second went by until he noticed the man on one of the two beds, drink long forgotten on one of the desks.

“Hi.” With no hint of pressure in his voice, Wooyoung watched Felix fidgeting by the door.

“Hi.”

Silence took over the room as Felix realised why Wooyoung wasn’t being his usual flirty self. Understanding how he had some reservations still, he left every decision up to Felix. It gave him a sense of security, understanding that if he didn’t want anything to happen, nothing would. Even if they were on their own in a small room, veiled in tension thick enough to cut with a spoon.

With that sense of total security in mind, Felix took a shaky step forward.

“So—” His voice broke as he regretted not bringing his drink. He felt the deep desire for something to cool his system, easing the lump in his throat. “I figured out what my deal is. And I’m coming to you, like you said.”

“Good.” The smile on Wooyoung’s face was as non-suggestive as he had ever seen, further soothing his tense body. “Do you mind sharing with me?”

“No. I will.” Taking another deep breath, Felix looked to the ceiling as he brought his hand to his stiff shoulders.

This was the moment. Felix would say the words out loud for the first time. Reality would hit, and there would be no escaping it anymore.

Fortunately, Felix didn’t want to run from it any longer.

“I’m single. And, I’m—”

Say it! He won’t judge. Just spit it out!

“I’m gay.”

“Okay.”

Okay. Okay? Despite the simplicity of the word, pure relief overcame Felix, body slumping as exhaustion blurred his vision. He was gay, and it was okay.

The next breath through a watery veil of happiness and alleviation felt like the first one he had ever taken.

“Oh my God, did I say something wrong?” Wooyoung hurried over to Felix’s trembling body as he wrapped his protective arms around him. Felix’s hands clung to the man’s shirt, face pressed into the crook of his neck as he let himself be held. Nothing more. Just held and accepted.

“No. Nothing wrong.” The whispered words reached Wooyoung’s ear within milliseconds. “All the right words. But—”

He stopped, pondering for a few seconds whether to confide in someone he hardly knew. A man who had nothing but shamelessly flirted with him for all 20 minutes of aggregated conversation. But he was here right now. And Felix needed to let him know how much he had already done for him.

Also, he was bawling into the guy’s shirt. It could hardly get much more intimate than this, anyways.

“I never said it out loud.”

“Oh… Oh!”

The realisation hit Wooyoung like a bus as he further fastened his comforting grip on Felix. It all made sense to him now. The insecurity. The uncomfortable tension whenever he said anything below the belt. The silence following the question of what his deal was. And here Wooyoung was, thinking he was yet again barking up the wrong tree. As it turned out, he had finally found the right tree, though it hadn’t bloomed yet.

“Fuck. I’m sorry I came on so strong. It just… I thought you were cute, but then I wasn’t so sure if you felt the same way. I assumed you might be one of those straight guys who aren’t so straight after a few drinks. So, I went all in to skip all that will-they-won’t-they crap. Wouldn’t have been the first time I was utterly disappointed at the end of the day.”

He had only tried to feel Felix out and learn if he himself could get hurt. Evidently, neither of them was trying nor intending to play games with the other.

“You didn’t come on too strong. I mean, you kinda did. But I liked it.”

As they drew away from each other, light laughter filled the room. Wooyoung’s arms were still circled around Felix’s waist as they stared into each other’s eyes. Their smiles soon faded as they recognised their proximity. When Wooyoung’s hands reclaimed their position on his hip, Felix’s stomach erupted in sheer excitement. The sentimentality of the moment was ultimately broken by his arousal.

“You like this, too. I can feel it,” Wooyoung pointed out with a smile as he squeezed Felix’s sides once, making him jump a little. “Knew it.”

“Fine. I like it.”

“So, you never told anyone you’re gay. Does that mean you just found out yourself? Or did you always know on some level and try to fit into a pair of shoes that weren’t yours?”

“A little of both. Like, I used to crush on Danny Phantom so hard it surprises me my parents never caught on. But then again, I had many girlfriends in Middle and High School.”

Wooyoung explored Felix’s cheeks and nose where freckles decorated him in beautiful patterns.

“You’ve never been with a guy then?”

Felix shook his head as his gaze met Wooyoung’s inviting, plump lips. In his subconscious, he grazed his teeth against them, the intimacy of the moment turning the corners of his mouth upwards. The closer Felix got to him, the sexier he found him to be.

“But you want to be?”

This time, Felix nodded. Never had he been more sure than while looking at the most beautiful man he had ever seen. So close he could almost taste him. And if that wasn’t sign enough already, the prominent tent in his pants at the simple touch of his hips assured him.

He wanted Wooyoung, more than he had ever wanted anyone else.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”

“That’s good. I can work with that.”

Leaning in their eyes met as Felix took in what was happening. Like the romance novel moment he had always dreamed of, seconds turned minutes, and moments turned into a lifeline. And then, finally, after hours of distant pining, Wooyoung closed the gap between them.

Now, Felix had kissed many people before. Cassidy, at 14, under the old cherry tree in his backyard while reading his favourite anime. Emily at 15 in more places than he could remember. And many others since. Girls, exclusively.

Though right now, as he tasted Wooyoung for the first time it finally dawned on him. The sweetness of his scent, the rum on his lips and the coke in his breath. This was what a kiss should feel like. This was what desire was supposed to feel like.

They deepened the kiss, tongues brushing lips, and Felix reached for Wooyoung’s neck. He ran his hands through the man’s hair, mouths moving in unison as silent whimpers escaped his lips. When Wooyoung pulled away, it was to catch his breath while also searching for a hint of regret in Felix’s features. When he couldn’t find anything but lust, he smirked, reconnecting his lips to the other’s.

Hands clawed at and bodies moved against one another as desperate whines filled the room. Mainly Felix’s, but who could blame him? Every single one of Wooyoung’s movements was the perfect calculation. He knew through and through what he was doing. Wooyoung clawed at Felix, pulling him into his body and providing his aching erection with much-needed friction. Semi-aroused for the better part of the evening, finally, he got relief from the discomfort.

Pulling Felix’s hair and tipping his head back, Wooyoung’s lips moved to the side of his neck. All the while, Felix kept his hands in Wooyoung’s hair, pulling him even closer and not letting him go.

“Fuck…” Felix slurred when the other sucked at his skin, trying to mark him for later. In the past, he hated having hickeys on his neck. Others knowing he had made out with his girlfriend had always made him uncomfortable. With Wooyoung, he couldn’t deny that he loved the thought of people knowing he belonged to someone. Or at least had done so for a brief moment in time.

Wooyoung’s hands fisted Felix’s shirt as he inched it up before checking in with the blonde, “Is this okay?”

“Yes. Please, take it off already.”

“Getting hot?” Wooyoung asked with a smirk, getting his answer once Felix nodded with a thick swallow. “Good.”

Once the fabric landed on the floor, Wooyoung lingered to take in the view. He had expected many things from the closeted nerdy boy, but not this. Not a full-on six-pack, tensing as he let his fingertips wander over his hot skin.

“Damn. Who would have thought?” The thoughts leaving Wooyoung’s brain without a filter made Felix blush. It was one thing, hearing how well-built he was from someone else. But someone he deemed the hottest person he had ever laid eyes on? That did something to him alright. And when Wooyoung leaned down to let his perky tongue run over the bulges, that did a whole other thing to him.

“Fuck… More, please.”

“Patience. I have a lot more to give you,” Wooyoung told him with a smirk as he pushed Felix onto the mattress and sank to his knees. This view was heavenly, straight out of a porno, and Felix felt like he was dreaming again. The whole situation was surreal.

Looking up at the blond, Wooyoung pulled him down for another kiss before focusing on his pecs. He took his sweet time worshipping Felix’s chest, his nipples and abs. Electric shocks rushed straight through Felix’s spine towards the top of his head. Wooyoung couldn’t get enough, spending a few extra seconds kissing his abdominal muscles until a layer of spit and sweat covered them.

“Please…” The silent prayer escaped Felix like a mantra. He’d come in his pants if Wooyoung didn’t do something soon and that was definitely not how he wanted this first time to end. Bad enough his first first time (a few years ago with Emily in the backseat of his father’s Toyota) had ended that way. Another taste of that embarrassment would have been too much to overcome.

“You think you’re ready for this?”

“I was born ready. Just— do something, please.”

“Oh, I’ll be doing much more than just something.”

Wooyoung opened Felix’s pants, dragging them over his thighs and towards the floor. Once the jeans had gone, Felix noticed he was almost entirely naked while Wooyoung was far from it. Without a second thought, he pulled the man’s shirt up, and over his head. To even it out, if you will. Now, not only their bodies but their pure skin was connecting. No restraints, no barriers. Only the two of them.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay? Let me know if you want me to do something different.”

As sweet as Felix identified the assurance to be, it was much unneeded. The second Wooyoung pulled him out of his briefs—tip red and leaking—he licked a thick stripe up the underside. That’s when Felix knew this would be excruciating in the best way immaginable.

Wooyoung worked him with so much knowledge and understanding of the male anatomy. It felt like he was inside Felix’s body, metaphorically. He knew exactly where to lick, where to suck and how to work him so he would fall apart below him. Felix’s eyes stayed glued to the beauty, watching him suck on his length and take him down his throat. As though he had never done anything else.

The past blowjobs Felix had received—which there were quite a few, thanks to his charming personality and sweet looks—had been good. He couldn’t lie that he had enjoyed every one of them, though it had never been this mind-numbing. Wooyoung had a technique to his movements only someone with a dick could come up with. Someone who had experienced many a blowjob first-hand— Felix was sure of that.

Spit slid down his length as Wooyoung navigated him deeper with each thrust, hands pumping what he couldn’t fit. His eyes filled with utter and total lust, gazes meeting when he looked up at Felix with a blurriness to his vision. It was a sight Felix had never seen—so pretty and feral. Enough to make him burst on the spot.

However, he couldn’t let that happen.

Felix’s hand on Wooyoung’s cheek urged him to let him fall from his mouth, cock glistening in a beautiful glow. He leaned down and connected their mouths as he tasted himself on Wooyoung’s tongue. Never had he tasted so delicious.

“Good?” Wooyoung asked as though he hadn’t made Felix see stars. Right now, he wasn’t sure he could ever feel as good again.

“So, so good.”

They shared a short moment of silence while Felix scooted back on the bed until he reached the headboard. Wooyoung situated himself above Felix’s lap as they continued their heated make-out session.

Felix admired Wooyoung’s broad chest and sculptured pecs while he planted wet kisses against his jaw. With as much confidence as Wooyoung presented, Felix wasn’t surprised his beauty continued past his face. Although he was still in awe of the perfect piece of art that was Wooyoung’s body. So chiselled, so muscular, so masculine. A dream come true in the most literal sense.

Delicate fingers ran over Felix’s stomach and snapped him out of his daydream. His abs tightened when he felt Wooyoung reach back and wrap his digits around his length.

“Oh, God.” Wooyoung seemed to enjoy the teasing too much, a triumphant grin on his features at the heightened reactivity in Felix’s expression. “Please. I— God.”

The grunt leaving Felix was nothing short of animalistic as Wooyoung’s thumbed over the head.

“You were saying?”

“I need you. Please.”

Bringing his hands back to his front, Wooyoung ended every direct skin contact to Felix. The loss of the physical component refocused all their senses while the fog in their brains lifted a little.

“You sure you want your first time to be drunk at a frat party?”

Felix appreciated Wooyoung’s caution, heart swelling as he wondered how he had deserved someone so considerate. A stranger, yes, but the most respectful one. However, this was hardly his first time. His body count filled all of one five-fingered hand. And even though this felt different, he was well aware of the vulnerability he exposed himself to.

“First of all, I’m not that drunk. See?” Felix straightened up as he positioned his pointer fingers at the corners of his peripheral vision. Bringing them together to touch right before his nose, he proofed his hypothesis. Much to Wooyoung’s amusement, who giggled at the adorable action. “Second, this isn’t my first time. I’ve done this before. With girls, yes. But I know what I’m getting myself into. And third, I really fucking want you to fuck me. Like yesterday.”

Opening up to Wooyoung seemed so easy after he had literally sucked his cock mere moments earlier. The guy’s sweet personality made it much easier for Felix to voice his wishes. He was sure about this.

Apparently, Wooyoung understood so much.

“Okay. But only under one condition.” Wooyoung’s fingers ran between Felix’s pecs and down his adonis belt. “You are the one doing the fucking this time. I have nothing to prep you with, and you want your first time to be slow, believe me. Ergo, you’re topping.”

“Alright,” Felix gave in with a laugh. If that’s what Wooyoung wanted to do, then Felix was content with being the penetrator rather than the penetrated. He also couldn’t deny the skip of his heartbeat when Wooyoung suggested there would be a second time. “One more thing. What’s topping?”

Eyes widening in amusement, Wooyoung couldn’t help but giggle at the younger’s words. “God, you’re innocent. Good thing you have me to show you everything you need to know.”

Rolling off Felix’s body, Wooyoung rid himself of his remaining clothes— jeans and underwear landing on top of Felix’s pile. With his free hand, Wooyoung reached for the nightstand and rummaged through its content with a hopeful expression.

“Come on, San-ie. Don’t disappoint me right now.” After a few seconds, his face lit up while he pulled lube and a condom from the drawer. “Do I know my best friend or what?”

“San. Is that the pink-haired guy?”

“Yup. I dyed it myself. You like it?” Wooyoung asked as he handed Felix the condom.

“It suits him well.” He rolled the piece of latex over himself with vigour while Wooyoung opened the lube and began spreading it between his cheeks. “So, this is his room? He doesn’t mind us using his bed?”

“Oh, I’m counting on it. San used mine so often, with so many different women, he should be paying half of my rent.” Felix chuckle was dark, eyes focusing on Wooyoung once he was back on top of him. “But enough about him.”

Felix’s eyes ran down Wooyoung’s naked form as he felt himself twitch against thin air. For a few rose-coloured seconds, he let himself enjoy the view of a beautiful man on top of him. His hands roamed over the older’s thighs, feeling the texture of his smooth, sun-kissed skin. He could have spent hours exploring every crevice of Wooyoung’s body.

In the dim lightening of the room, Wooyoung looked ethereal, muscular statue and pretty face only further continued in the shape of his cock. In no porn had Felix ever seen someone so enchanting, mouth watering at the mere sight of his erection. As much as Wooyoung had focused on him within the previous moments, Felix couldn’t shake the need to do the same for him. His own arousal pushed past its limits by the thought of making Wooyoung feel good.

Hands wandering further up his thighs, Felix soon reached the base of his dick. With one questioning look followed by an agreeing hum, Felix finally touched him.

He went slow at first, testing the waters and Wooyoung’s reactions to figure out what he liked. It took him not a minute to do so. Working Wooyoung the same way he worked himself in moments of privacy did the trick. It almost came natural to him as he collected the guy’s pre-cum to smear it over his length, hand pumping from base to tip in short, rhythmic motions.

“Fuck. You’re so pretty.”

The words were as much unsolicited as they were unintentional, though Wooyoung enjoyed the compliment. A blush appeared on his cheeks as he closed the gap, pushing his hungry mouth against Felix’s.

“How about you fuck me and see how much prettier I can become.”

Felix, yet again, felt himself twitch at the crudeness of the words, proving to himself that, yes. He might have a thing for dirty talk. Though that realisation was for another day to explore. With his bottom lip between his teeth, Wooyoung shimmied down his body until he reached his lap. Squirting some of the lube onto his palm, Wooyoung lost no time to massage it into Felix’s length.

“Ready?”

“God, yes.”

As Wooyoung sunk all the way to complete fullness, Felix realised that was a lie. He could have never prepared for the feeling of Wooyoung’s snug hole, so much tighter than anything he had ever felt around himself before. His hands flew to the older’s thighs as he moved up and down and steadied himself by clawing his nails into Felix’s skin.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“You have no idea how amazing you feel,” Wooyoung agreed with a moan, hands resting on Felix’s stomach for support. “You think you can move? Meet me in the middle?”

“I don’t even know if I can breathe right now.”

His words were met with a giggle, though despite his inability to think, Felix lifted his hip up to meet him. Moving against gravity was more demanding than he had anticipated, but the look of pure bliss on Wooyoung’s face made it worthwhile.

He definitely hadn’t lied when he said he’d become even prettier while fucked out.

They soon found a rhythm that was comfortable for either. Still, Felix knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Not when Wooyoung caressed all his senses so perfectly, eyes, ears, hands, mouth and mind filled with nothing but him. The world stood still around them, entirely immersed in the moment.

One particularly sharp thrust poked Felix’s attention, tip hitting a spot within Wooyoung that made him throw his head back with a whimper. His body trembled under Felix’s palms, abdominal muscles pulling Wooyoung forward and crouching over the younger. At first, Felix believed whatever he had done had hurt Wooyoung. Once the older opened his eyes—gaze veiled in animalistic hunger—Felix understood it wasn’t a grunt of pain.

“Was that…”

“My prostate? Fuck, yes.” Stilling on top of him, Wooyoung needed to rest for a second. Right when he took up his previous movements, Felix fell back into the same rhythm. Five thrusts in, the same thing happened again, though Wooyoung didn’t stop this time. To say that the sight was divine would have been a crude understatement. “Fuck… Touch me, baby. Please!”

The first time Wooyoung begged him for something—rather than the other way around—Felix identified another new kink. This was all new anyways, and Wooyoung still unleashed underlying desires Felix hadn’t even known existed.

Felix’s hands flew to Wooyoung’s dick, stroking it in unison with his thrusts. And like that, the older fell apart on top of him.

Felix had only ever seen a man cum through the screen of his laptop. It had seemed so fake, the whimpering and grunting way too excessive to be genuine. Or so he thought.

When Wooyoung hit his high, he completely slumped with a groan in Felix’s ear as he released onto his stomach. Hot spurts painted his abs in white, running between the crevices and towards his navel—and there was so much of it. Felix wasn’t quite sure if this was still considered healthy.

Despite being in a state of utter bliss, Wooyoung kept moving, dragging out his orgasm and urging Felix towards his own. The sight and noises would have gotten him there as was. The added pleasure of Wooyoung’s tired hole clenching and his intense eyes eventually launched him into his sweet, sweet release.

Panting beside each other, they tried catching their breaths for a few minutes. It could have been hours, for all Felix cared. He couldn’t have been trusted with anything right now, not even telling the time.

At some point, Felix cleaned himself before reclaiming his position under Wooyoung, with the older’s head propped on his chest.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

Chuckling filled the room as their gazes fixated on the ceiling. Wooyoung pressed kisses against Felix’s chest on occasion, a sweet gesture that was much appreciated. The longer they remained entangled, listening to each other’s breathing, the faster Felix’s mind spun. The kissing, the tension, the desire. Everything was so fresh in his mind but, at the same time, felt so far away. He couldn’t deny that after finally figuring out why everyone was so obsessed with sex, he couldn’t wait to experience it again.

Wooyoung figured Felix’s mind out with one short look at his lap.

“You’re still hard.”

It wasn’t so much still as it was again, his body visibly not done yet despite having reached a peak minutes ago.

“Because you’re still pretty.”

The explanation forced Wooyoung’s cheeks into another blush as he kissed Felix, softer this time but just as passionate. Climbing back on top of him, Wooyoung nipped at Felix’s bruised neck, making him moan at the mix of pain and pleasure.

“That’s gonna be a bitch to cover up tomorrow,” Wooyoung recognised with a giggle as his gaze met Felix’s. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright. I like having a visual reminder for the next few days.”

“Well, if that’s so…”

Trailing off, Wooyoung leaned back down, sucking on Felix’s chest. A red bruise appeared within seconds of him biting and licking over the flesh, Felix holding him close by his hair to keep him going. Any direct skin contact Wooyoung gave him Felix couldn’t get enough of. He wanted to live in this moment for as long as possible.

The fire in his stomach reignited when the older licked over his nipples, swirling the buds between his lips. The shock waves coursing through Felix reached his cock, which twitched in excitement.

Yup, he definitely wasn’t done for today.

While Wooyoung kissed his way all over Felix’s chest, the younger reentered heaven. He couldn’t help but ponder what else there was he hadn’t tried yet. Like giving blowjobs. Or whatever the antonym of topping was. He couldn’t quite wait to figure it out, although some higher power forced patience on him.

Felix wanted to ask Wooyoung if he could taste him, but he didn’t get there. Before anything else could happen, the door to the room opened with a creek, and Felix’s head snapped up. His eyes darted to the entrance, shock written on his face as his gaze met the intruder’s.

He couldn’t quite tell whether you had recognised him. Although the lighting most likely wasn’t dark enough to shield his identity. You must have identified him. But he couldn’t react fast enough. As soon as you had appeared, you muttered a perplexed “I’m sorry” and pulled the door shut. Leaving Felix with only fear and a hard-on he wasn’t so sure would find any true relief for the rest of the night

Next Chapter >>> coming soon

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[leam1983]

Lisan al-Ghaib

The Hellsite has a thing against White Savior narratives, and for good reason. The idea that general-purpose Natives have some elixir for mindfulness, mental health or even sociopolitical stability is nothing new. It's as tokenistic as you think if you take it at face value, but I think the more classic examples in the genre like Dances With Wolves or, God forbid, Avatar (a revised copy of the previous title, in many ways) tend to focus on something that's a smidge more positive - namely in that the Other - not the Noble Savage, so much as someone with an entirely external perspective - has the power to help us progress. A very debatable posture.

In effect, the classic examples in the genre contend that it's not really about "saving the Natives" or even becoming their saviour, but rather about the unformed or troubled protagonist finding themselves thanks to the Natives' input. I've always thought that Wolves' Sioux never needed Dubar, Dunbar needed them. The Na'vi never needed Jake Sully, some other member of the people would've eventually filled in the blanks and become Toruk Makto. Instead, Jake Sully needed the Na'vi to fix himself. There's nothing magical there, despite the First Nations spiritualism that mostly coats the genre, ripped out of its context and sort of propped up the same way mindfulness is now pulled out of its own context and served up to the masses, as if living with a little anxiety or stress were somehow a symptom for something more insidious. The world forgot Herbert's object lesson, and suggested that for some people, especially damaged goods, the only way to find purpose is to subsume yourself in another culture. You emerge as the saviour, kill the monster, and fulfill your role in the story.

Taking up someone else's problems to fix yourself isn't an actual solution; I think any two-bit psychologist could tell you that. Even if Dunbar and Sully emerge whole and healed from their own tales, they're behavioural abnormalities. Power doesn't allow you to stay humble. Power corrupts.

Ask Shaddad. Ask the Bene Gesserit. Ask the Harkonnens, who never saw their end coming.

Back when Frank Herbert first wrote Dune, Eastern mysticism was taking off much in the same way we're seeing meditation and yoga. He pulled an interesting bait-and-switch in showing us a protagonist who seemed set to go from a mostly nameless aristocrat to your typical conquering hero - but he realized that some faiths can be noxious. Some currents can twist the mind. After all, Paul Atreides' own stories addresses the fact that he comes to align with fundamentalists, and does so willingly.

In many ways, George Lucas tried to play the same melody with Anakin Skywalker being set up as the Force's hero, only for the will of the Galaxy to be made manifest through his son, instead. The problem is, unlike Herbert, Lucas lacks subtlety. The danger of messianic thinking more or less deserves a dream-state vignette on Dagobah, where Luke beheads Vader and sees his own face in the depths of his father's mask. Herbert, in comparison, makes those fears concrete. Paul was on shaky ground the moment he embraced the moniker of Muad'Dib, and slipped into something I might as well call psychosis, after drinking the Waters of Life.

Chani lost the man she fell in love with. Paul Atreides lost himself.

White Savior narratives aren't meant to be seen as the Civilized Man saving the day. They're meant to be seen as an outsider protagonist needing an external point of view to face the abyss, more or less.

If you're an optimist, the protagonist is thankful for the wisdom he's received and plays his part, not for prophecy or for Ego - but for basic care and consideration. Consider Shogun's Blackthorne, by the end of the series. He wasn't one to calculate his next move - he's clearly a man of passion. Japan gave him something to hold onto - and then squeezed around him like a vice made up of niceties and political manoeuvring. Yoshii Toranaga, on the other hand, is the chess player. Blackthorne's fate is the grimmest of the brighter ends of the White Savior genre. He didn't save anyone or anything; he merely proved useful.

If you're a pessimist, you turn to Dune or to any of your local Fire-and-Brimstone preachers.

Considering, when I hear the Hellsite dismiss Dune as just another story written by a White guy about some other White guy saving some vaguely Middle-Eastern-coded people; that tells me a lot of armchair critics haven't picked up the books or watched the movies.

If anything, Dune's very premise gives reason to those of you who decry Colonialist rhetoric. Dune isn't just a seminal science-fiction classic; it's also a warning about what happens when faith goes haywire, and of what happens when the balance of power tips in the worst direction possible.

[fluffypotatey]

just a quick thing bc it bothers me and i wanna get this off my chest

*pulls down presentation screen*

yes, both Miguel O’Hara and the Spot are antagonists to Miles

how-ever,

Miguel is an antagonist and a hero while the Spot is an antagonist and villain

that is all, thank you

[sskk-manifesto]

(*・ω・*)b♪

[carefulfears]

and the fact that mulder cries a lot makes me want to cuddle him forever 😭😭

everything is so hard for him all of the time!! i love him.

[jesterwaves]

could have been worse / could have been better

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Also speaking of my son Dism scrolling through windows help forums is so fun because yay :) that's my son :)

[cosmic-cd]

late night pokemon trainer sona thoughts

[eshithepetty]

To start off this post I just wanna say, I hold mp100 dear to my heart and I say this with love, but.. I feel off put whenever people talk about the bad shit that anime usually has, and then say that. Mp100 has none of it. Because, like... sure, it has less of it than the usual, and I appreciate it for that, but that doesn't mean that it, doesn't have it at all? I mean. The transmisogynistic joke in episode 2. The fatphobia in season 2's episode 2. The lack of female main characters, Takeuchi's racist design.... don't get me wrong, the show is still great and I love it very much as I said, but you can love a show and appreciate all the things that it got right while not disregarding the things that it got wrong. You don't have to hate it for those things, you don't even have to necessarily talk about them if you don't want to. You just shouldn't deny that they exist in that media in the first place. That feels really disingenuous to me.

[schizoleonkennedy]

But I dont wanna watch James Sunderland getting babygirlified on tiktok like every other popular dude video game protagonist this year...

[longagoitwastuesday]

Do you have favorite actors for the various roles in "Cyrano de Bergerac"? I would love to hear your thoughts!

I do! I actually rambled a lot about this while I was watching the different productions I could get my hands on (I tagged it "Cyrano de Bergerac" and "I talk too much").

My favorite productions are the one with José Ferrer and the one with Benoit Solès, and those actors make the best Cyranos in my opinion. Though that's probably something in part beyond the actors' choice, their dynamic with their respective Roxane and Christian are the best ones, I think, and I find how Cyrano moves around these two particular characters at the core of a good Cyrano characterisation.

José Ferrer's use of his voice, which is arguably Cyrano's true most characteristic feature, is unmatched imo (although McAvoy does a very good job with this too), and he manauvers very well several of the different aspects of the character, such as his playfulness, his shittiness and longing. By the end of the play you believe he is the most beautiful man on Earth. Cyrano, however, is a bit pathetic (not just in a "pathos" way), and I'd say Ferrer gives off an air full of dignity very fitting of many scenes, but that eats almost entirely this aspect of Cyrano; Benoit Solès manages this very well, while also playing well with some of the other ones, such as the playfulness, the longing, the pain and the despair. Both Ferrer and Solès are hilarious, tender, a bit shitty, vulnerable, playful and sad. Albeit neither of them portrays 100% what Cyrano is, I think both come pretty close in slightly different flavours, and by the end of the play one ends up being terribly fond of them.

My favourite Roxane is Clara Huet in the production with Benoit Solès, but Mala Powers in the 1950 film is a close second. I think they portray wonderfully Roxane's spunk, and her mix of honest playful cheerfulness and her haughtiness, her intelligence and wit, and how much like Cyrano she is.

I've not come to love for now any Christian as much as I've loved Ferrer, Solès, Huet and Powers, but again I think the Christians in the 1950 film and the Solès productions are very very good. I love the dynamic they have with their Cyranos, especially the one Christian and Cyrano have in the 1950 film, enhanced positively by the added scenes (they actually work so well in showing their developing as friends, their deep love and care for each other!). I don't want to expand too much on this to avoid spoilers (beyond the already known 'Christian dies' ones I mean), but some things they do with both these Christians are a thing of genius, and both feel vulnerable, kind, ready to fight and truly desperate at times; I like when they do that.

There's an Italian production which has a Cyrano I truly enjoy as well, despite how they dumbify him more than I usually like my Christians. His mix of anger and deep pain when he discovers Cyrano's feelings for Roxane were so well made, and his physical presence makes you identify who Christian is even before the play starts.

The Podalydès production has two different Christians. The one in the version on youtube isn't bad, but @ride-a-dromedary likes Éric Ruf a lot. I actually adore him based on the clips and gifs she's posted of him, but I haven't been able to find the version with him online, so I can't know. But he truly seems one of the best. Based on what little I've seen, I love his intense gazes and subtle gestures.

I'm not entirely sold on any Le Bret, De Guiche or Ragueneau yet.

I think the German musical has a decent Ragueneau in vibes, and the 1990 French film does as well. I found his poem made song for what I think is a Spanish production (I'm not sure if it's a fan creation based on the Spanish production), and while I've not been able to find that production online, the song works well in vibes too I think.

The German musical's Le Bret in vibes is very good. He encompasses well his deep love and worry for Cyrano while also being done with his shit. They truly feel like close friends. The 1950 film kind of combines Gaston de Castel-Jaloux and Le Bret into one character, which sadly changes Le Bret's dynamic with Cyrano a bit, but that's a very good Le Bret as well. The one in Solès' production is pretty good too. He has my favourite delivery of the scene in which Le Bret chastises Cyrano for risking his life sending letters.

De Guiche is complicated. I think productions often make him too pathetic and laughable or too bad, so bad it makes the last act kind of not make sense. The 1950 one, the 1990 French one, the Kevin Kline one and the Solès one are all good, but I am not passionate for any of them either.

And basically that's it!

[dont-be-gentle-please]

Despite my love for pet whump, or any other type honestly, my favorite type is what I call "gentle whump/pain".

And it's basically characters in settings that don't involve torture/brainwashing etc, instead forced out of their comfort zones in hostile environments where the role of whumper and caretaker mix into one (or more) character(s).

What makes things whumpy isn't constant whipping, cutting etc. It's the occasional beating by someone who could have killed MC but didn't, the constant stress of trying to survive, caretaker siding with the ones or even being the one hurting whumpee.

Power imbalance, exposure to violence against others with no way of stopping it. Caretaking (not just in a medical sense) turning into pain, extreme discomfort and humiliation. Whumpee knowing that the only way they can learn and adapt is through fear and bruises.

And don't get me started on the caretaker-whumper. Genuinely caring for the protagonist but still being rough with them. Not quite enjoying seeing whumpee cry but neither feeling too sorry for them. It's how it works, adapt or die.

When and if, MC leaves the situation/place/whatever you wanna call it, they aren't sure how it actually affected. They aren't traumatized, they don't flinch at loud noise, in the contrary, they have better instincts now. But they know they are not the same as before and they never will be.

[astranauticus]

anyway can we talk about how almost every upcoming liu yuning character is a tragic figure. cuz if im thinking about bai choufei for months after finishing heroes idk how many more of those my mental health can take tbh