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#that you can look at the text in greek... and see if the shapes that mean the word you're talking about... are actually there.

elodieunderglass · 1 month

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Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out with a word I've forgotten? I'm trying to remember the name for a concept that (I think) talks about how people better understand or process Things once they have vocabulary to describe it - I've heard it talked about in regards to the colour orange, or coercive control, etc.

long story short i've just read a paper saying ancient Greeks and Romans weren't racist bc they had no word for racism and am trying to form an argument against!

(no worries if this is unanswerable, i'm aware its a bit of a long shot but you struck me as a person who Knows Things)

That’s extremely kind and funny of you. i don’t know much but i am ok at synthesis.

I think you might be thinking of the concepts loosely called the “Sapir-Whorf hypothesis”, which describes something called “linguistic determinism.” This idea has been “disproven”, as it is just too reductionist as a concept - people are clearly perfectly capable of having experiences that are tough to describe with words. There will be plenty of papers showing how this reasoning is applied.

but it is still commonly thrown around and still considered a useful teaching framework. That’s why you’ll see it referenced online as if it is fresh, new, and applicable - people learn about it every year in college. Also, elements of the framework are probably perfectly sound. It definitely seems to be the case that language shapes brains; it just doesn’t seem to be the case that humans who don’t have specific words for them can’t experience orange, or the future.

(Many things in college are taught using teaching frameworks that may not be, technically, true; the framework is intended to give a critical structure for interpreting information. Then, when we later find evidence that disproves the hypothesis, that single piece of information doesn’t destroy our expensive college education; what we paid for is the framework. This is mostly frustrating in the sciences, when fresh crops of undergraduate students crash around on social media, grappling with their first exposure to (complex concept) and how it’s DIFFERENT to what they learned BEFORE and their teachers LIED TO EVERYBODY and they’re going to save the world from POP SCIENCE by telling the TRUTH. You’ll notice that these TOTALLY NEW INFORMATION reveals map along the semester schedule. The thing here is that getting new information, or information being different from what you were previously told, does not cancel out the fact that you are getting what you pay for - an education. Learning new facts that change our relationships to hypotheses isn’t a ✨huge betrayal ✨ , but the expected process of academia. Anyway.)

You have an interesting response here, and can start by looking at the ways that Sapir-Whorf has been disproved. There will be loads of literature on that.

However, it would be interesting to look at the argument as an unpicking of the other side’s rather weird, ritualistic superstitious belief that a behavior doesn’t exist if the creatures doing it can’t describe it. It is not on the ancient Greeks and Romans to categorise and interpret their behavior for a modern educated audience. They do not have the wherewithal to do so. They are also fucking dead. We can name the behaviors we see, and describe their impacts, however the hell we like.

Sure, the ancient Greeks used “cancer” to refer to lumpy veiny tumors. We can infer that they still had blood cancer, because their medical texts describe leukaemia and their corpses have evidence of it - they just didn’t know it was cancer. But we do, so we can call it cancer. Just because Homer said “the wine-dark sea” in a flight of girlish whimsy doesn’t mean he was unable to distinguish grape juice from saltwater, which we know, because we can observe that he was an intelligent wordsmith perfectly capable of talking about wine and oceans in other contexts. We are the people who get to stand at our point of history with our words, and name things like “this person probably died of leukaemia” and “poets say things that aren’t necessarily literal” and “this behaviour was racist” and “that’s gay” and “togas kinda slay tho” despite Ancient Greeks having different concepts of cancer, wittiness, prejudice, homosexuality, and slaying than we do today.

Now just to caveat that people do get muddled about the concept of racism. Our understanding of racism from here - this point of history, with these words, probably from the West - is heavily influenced by how we see racism around us today: white supremacy and the construct of “whiteness,” European colonial expansion, transatlantic chattel slavery, orientalism, evangelism, 20th century racial science, and so on. This is the picture of racism that really dominates our current discourse, so people often mistake it for the definition of racism. (Perhaps in a linguistic-deterministic sort of way after all.) As a result, muddled-up people often say things like “I can’t be racist because I’m not a white American who throws slurs at black American people,” while being an Indian person in the UK who votes for vile anti-immigration practices, or a Polish person with a horrible attitude about the Roma. Many people genuinely hold this very kindergarten idea of racism; if your opponent does as well, they’re probably thinking something like “Ancient Greek and Roman people didn’t have a concept of white supremacy, because whiteness hadn’t been invented yet, so how could they be racist?” And that’s unsound reasoning in a separate sense.

Racism as the practice of prejudice against an ethnicity, particularly one that is a minority, is a power differential that is perfectly observable in ancient cultures. The beliefs and behaviors will be preserved in written plays, recorded slurs, beauty standards, reactions to foreign marriages, and travel writing. The impacts will be documented in political records, trade agreements, the layouts of historical districts of ancient towns.

You don’t need permission to point out behaviours and impacts. You can point them out in any words you like. You can make up entirely new words to bully the ancient romans with. You are the one at this point of history and your words are the ones that get used.

Pretending that “words” are some kind of an intellect-obscuring magical cloud in the face of actual evidence is just a piece of sophistry (derogatory) on the part of your opponent here. It’s meant to be a distraction. You can dismiss this very flimsy shield pretty quickly and get them in the soft meat of them never reading anything about the actual material topic, while they’re still looking up dictionary definitions or whatever.

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frostfire-17 · 5 months

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What is cuneiform?

@ipsomaniac asked if I could explain the cuneiform system, and so I am going to give it a shot. Here goes! (Update: it got long! But there's pictures!)

Part I: What does it look like? How do we work with it?

This is the cuneiform script:

This is a first-millennium BC text of Sargon II, in Akkadian (specifically Neo-Assyrian). My user icon is a much older Sumerian text. In a second we'll see some Hittite. Just like the Latin script is used for English, French, Turkish, and many other languages today, the cuneiform script was used for lots of languages in the ancient world. It changed a bit over three thousand years of constant use, but it remains pretty recognizable because of the wedges. "Cuneiform" is just Latin for "wedge-shaped," because scholars love giving things banal names and then translating them into Latin or Greek so no one can tell.

This is a Hittite tablet:

This particular tablet is part of the royal funerary ritual (which has many many MANY tablets, many of which are way more broken than this one, and/or missing entirely). It's been pieced together from lots of fragments, all excavated separately. (You can see their excavation numbers written on the fragments, e.g. 39/c.) It's written on clay, like most of their texts were. This is a pretty good amount of preservation for a tablet this size - many are more fragmentary. I wish the picture were better, but tablets are not catalogued by how good the pictures are and it would have taken a million years to find a really hi-res one suitable for our purposes.

You can see that each symbol is made up of a bunch of wedges. These were pressed into the clay with a stylus while it was still wet. If you look closely, you can also spot spaces between words (more obvious at the end of a paragraph).

Here's a little slice of our tablet:

And here's a drawing of that same little slice. This is how scholars usually interact with texts on a day-to-day basis, because taking readable photos of tablets is difficult and going to see the tablets is more difficult. Drawings are made by experts in the presence of the tablets and published so that everyone can look at them.

Here the scholar who did this drawing (published in Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazköi vol. 39, text no. 4) was working with only some of the fragments, and so has written in the transliteration of the left half, which they weren't copying. So you can see how each cuneiform sign corresponds to a written syllable, sometimes in lowercase, sometimes in all caps, and sometimes in superscript.

What does all this mean? How does it work? Okay. Cuneiform is a really difficult and frustrating writing system to read, for a few reasons. 1) It grew organically from a time before writing existed, so people were just kind of slowly figuring out how to use pictures to represent words; 2) it lasted for thousands of years, so there were all sorts of innovations tacked on without necessarily jettisoning any of the old stuff; and 3) it was borrowed through quite a few languages, almost none of which were related to one another, so it had to twist around and adapt to totally different sounds and word structures. So it's weird! And hard to learn, especially for us, because we are not native speakers of any of the languages that used it, and also we're not a single person existing in a snapshot of time, where cuneiform had a specific form and iteration - we're looking at its whole span of three thousand years.

THAT SAID. I can explain some stuff about it and how it worked! Here goes!

Part 2: How does it work as a writing system?

We start with a picture. Let's use a star. Like this: 𒀭

Or this:

(this is a student text copying the star sign over and over - ignore the leftmost column. I got it from this excellent thread here)

This is the cuneiform sign for the sky, or for a god. In Sumerian, the language that first used cuneiform, the word for "sky" is AN. The word for "god" is DINGIR. So this sign could be pronounced either AN, and mean sky, or DINGIR, and mean god. This sort of usage is called "logographic" - a sign equals a word. It started as just a picture of a star, and came to mean a couple of things associated with the stars.

Eventually, there reaches a point where it doesn't just only mean the word "sky," it also means the syllable "an." That is, you could use it to represent a part of a word, or a grammatical element, that was pronounced "an." (E.g., ma-ah-ha-an: mahhan, which is a Hittite word that means "when," and which is written with four signs, including our an.) This is called the rebus principle: like a rebus puzzle, a picture of an eye can also mean "I" because they sound the same. This usage supplements the logograms rather than replacing them: you could still use "an" to mean "sky." You know which usage is in play based on context. (Or at this stage, maybe you don't. Sumerian is real hard and we don't understand it perfectly.)

You can also use signs a third way, which is designed to make reading easier: as what's called a "determinative." A determinative tells you what type of thing a word is. So if you use the star symbol as a determinative, it comes before a word and indicates that upcoming is a god's name. It's not pronounced when it's used like that. Other determinatives include: male and female markers, plural markers, markers to indicate what something is made of, what kind of animal it is, etc.

So any sign you see could potentially be a word (logogram), a sound (syllable), or a soundless classifier (determinative). In practice, only some signs take on all three of these functions.

When we transcribe signs now, we write them in Latin script based on which function they're serving. That's why, in the above Hittite texts, some of the signs were written in all-caps (for logograms), some of them in lowercase (for syllables), and some of them in superscript (for determinatives).

So then Akkadian borrows the system. They like to spell words out a lot more than the Sumerians do, so more and more signs are used primarily for their syllables, rather than their meaning. The signs also take on more syllabic meanings, because Akkadian has different words behind the logograms, and also has different sounds than Sumerian. A lot of signs end up doing double, triple or even-more-ple duty (e.g. the sign for "ag" can also be read "ak" or "aq" in an Akkadian text). Once again, you know how to read a sign from context, and in Akkadian you usually actually do know, because Akkadian is a Semitic language rather than an isolate like Sumerian, so we understand it way, way better.

Akkadian keeps using the symbols as logograms, though, too. Sometimes they'll spell out a word, but sometimes they'll just use the logographic symbol for it - like how sometimes we write out "two," and sometimes just write "2". Sometimes there are full Sumerian words or combinations of words that have become logograms: that is, they're not loanwords. They're not pronounced in Sumerian. They're written as a symbol (like 2), and the Akkadian word would be pronounced underneath (like "two.") The Akkadians also keep using determinatives.

At this point, most signs at least have a logographic value and a few syllabic values. Also (to make it extra difficult) plenty of syllables have a couple of different signs that could be used to represent them. In total there's a bit over a thousand cuneiform signs, incidentally, but usually only a few hundred were in use at any given time and place.

Then Hittite borrows it! They actually overall reduce the number of signs used, and the number of signs doing double duty, so it's generally simpler to read. Hittite's sound system is totally different from Akkadian's, though - which is totally different from Sumerian's - so they do some weird stuff with which signs represent which sounds. (The result of this is that our understanding of Hittite phonetics is somewhat imperfect.) They do use a ton of logograms whenever they're talking about physical objects, especially ritual offerings. Ritual texts are A PAIN IN THE ASS to read because they're full up with obscure logograms, and so you pore over a signlist trying to work out what the bonkers twelve-wedge sign you've never seen before is, and then when you finally find it you're like, "oh ANOTHER kind of bread. cool cool."

Part 3: Let's Read Hittite! (This is probably excessive.)

So finally, let's read some together! This is two lines from the Ten-Year Annals of Mursili II, an account of the first ten years of that king's reign. It's mostly conquering, but this bit is calmer.

(ANNOYINGLY, Tumblr will not do superscript, or I cannot make it anyway, so I will put determinatives in parentheses.)

nam-ma (URU)Ha-at-tu-ši ú-wa-nu-un nu (URU)Ha-at-tu-ši

gi-im-ma-an-da-ri-nu-un nu-za EZEN4.HI.A ŠA MU.6.KAM i-ya-nu-un

That's the text rendered sign-by-sign. Everything that is separated by a dash, a period, a space, or a parenthesis is a separate sign. Words are separated with spaces. Here's a more normalized rendition of the words (still with the logograms, though).

namma (URU)Hattusi uwanun nu (URU)Hattusi gimmandarinun nu=za EZEN4.HI.A ŠA MU.6.KAM iyanun

"Then I went to Hattusa, and I spent the winter in Hattusa and performed the festivals of the sixth year."

The ú in uwanun in the first line is written with an accent because there are several signs that can mean "u" and this is the second one. Similar for EZEN4: there's more than one sign for EZEN, and this is the fourth. Scholars always write logograms and determinatives in Sumerian, because that's where the meanings were fixed. URU, used before Hattusa, is both the determinative for "city" and the Sumerian word meaning the same. ŠA in the last line is italicized and capitalized because it's a logogram that comes from Akkadian: "ša" means "of" in Akkadian, and the Hittites used Akkadian words as logograms just like the Akkadians used Sumerian words.

Anyway, that's how cuneiform works! If you made it this far you're a hero! <3

#hittites yay!#cuneiform

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smoooothoperator · 9 months

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Beautiful Stranger

08: Shape Of Lies

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 2.1k

warnings: THE ANGST, social media au, third person pov, flashbacks are on italics

Masterlist

Official playlist

previous part

a/n: here is the angst!!! The part everyone wanted. What do you think will happen after this?

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

The domino effect is a chain reaction that occurs when one event sets off a series of similar, related, or connected events.

Is often used in reference to a catastrophic event or chain of interconnected events such as a natural disaster, series of accidents, or financial collapse.

He started it by saying a wrong name. Then a wrong job. And because of the first lie, the snowball rolling down the hill started to grow bigger and bigger, making him lose control of it.

And now he has to face the consequences.

"Lily…"

"Tell me what, Logan?" she frowned, feeling how her heart started to shatter. "Or whoever you are"

He swallowed thickly, feeling how his heartbeat was echoing on his ears. He didn't hear Carlos ending the call after a sigh, he couldn't even hear what he said.

This it. This is the moment he feared the most. It came sooner than he thought.

That's what happens when you are a coward.

"I- Lily…" he mumbled, feeling how his mouth was dry. Even if he swallowed he couldn't make anything to get rid of the dryness. "I can explain-"

"How dare you?" she asked, hurt.

"I can explain!" he exclaimed, taking a step closer to her.

"Don't come closer!" she screamed, making Lando flinch. "Who the fuck are you?"

"I… my name is Lando" he said with a little voice.

"Everything was a lie, right?" she asked, hurt.

It was suffocating her. Everything was perfect, she started to think about the future. A future with him.

In her mind she created the perfect story for them. Once he left for work, the two of them would be texting and calling, not forgetting to tell the other how their day went. She wanted to visit him by surprise, thinking that he would be happy to see her and introduce her to his family and friends. She wanted to go back to England just to be closer to him. She wanted to see him more often, having dates and sleeping in each other's houses. She wanted to be with him for such a long time that one of them had to suggest to move in together.

She wanted so many things.

And those plans just exploded in front of her face like a window breaks during an expansive wave.

"Lily, please…" Lando begged, trying to grab her hands.

He needed to touch the person that calms him, the person that for once helps his mind to work at a normal speed.

But how can he do that? The person that calms him is at the same time the person he hurt. The person he has been lying to since they met.

He's selfish. He deserves everything bad that will happen after this. And he knows it.

But it hurts so bad, and it scares him not knowing what will happen.

He deserves her hate.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, closing her eyes and letting her body take control.

He didn't see that coming. He didn't see her hand moving towards his cheek. When he noticed it he was already looking to his side and with his skin burning after the slap.

"How dare you?!" she screamed, feeling her heart pounding against her chest. "I gave you everything! Everything! And you just lied to me all this fucking time!"

He never heard her curse in english. It was something he found cute about her. Maybe she cursed in Greek, but since he didn't understand a word of it, he never knew about it.

But now, hearing her curse, he felt worse. She is really angry.

"I didn't want you to know who I was…" he mumbled.

Wrong answer.

"And then you decided to tell me lies all the time?!" she exclaimed.

She couldn't believe it. She fell for a lie. She fell for a man that is not who he says he is. She let him come to her house, to her bed. She let him touch her.

She let him use her.

"I told you who I was! I told you about my past, about my family and how they treated me!" she screamed. "I trusted you! And what did you do all this time? Not trust me and lie about yourself all the fucking time! How dare you do this to me?! How dare you play with me?!"

"I wanted to tell you" he said.

There's no use to scream, to argue. He's not the one hurt here. He doesn't have any right to defend himself.

"When? Once you are gone?" she scoffed, letting her heart break more. "How mature" she said sarcastically.

How mature. She's right. Everyone is right. He's not mature. He's 23 years old and still acts like a kid. Maybe everyone was right, maybe Carlos was right. He needed to mature and act like the adult he is.

"Lily, please… let me explain" he mumbled, taking another step closer to her.

"I don't want to hear it" she groaned. "Get out of my house"

"Don't do this, love…"

"Stop!" she exclaimed, grabbing his backpack and throwing it to him. "Don't you dare to call me like that ever again!"

"I-"

"Get out of my house!" she screamed, pushing him out of her bedroom, throwing his phone to him.

"Lily!"

"Leave!" She screamed, grabbing the first thing she found and threatening to throw it to him.

With his shoulders down and tears rolling down his cheeks, he nodded defeated. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and walked out of her apartment. He knows he has things in her apartment, he knows he left clothes because she liked to sleep on his shirts.

She has every right to be mad at him, to not look at him and to push him out of her house. He did everything to deserve to be treated that way.

When she heard him open the front door and close it behind him she ran towards it. She ran to close the door, locking it after leaning on it and falling to the floor slowly.

He lied to her. He lied about his name, about who he is. Maybe he lied and he doesn't love her. Everything he did was use her and laugh at her.

The moment Lando heard how she locked the door he knew everything ended. That he doesn't have a chance to talk and explain.

He deserves it.

He knows the meaning of her locking the door. He broke her trust. He broke her heart. He broke her.

Lando heard her cry when he went to his apartment. He heard things falling to the floor and breaking. He heard her anger and he couldn't be there to stop it.

He took a deep breath and looked at his phone. The screen is broken. It probably broke the moment it fell from his hand when she walked inside the room after hearing his call with Carlos.

This can't be happening. There's no way he, amongst everyone, did that.

She was in shock, standing in the middle of her messy living room. Cushions on the floor, the things he left on the coffee table on the floor. Every thing he touched was on the floor and she wanted to burn it.

Him, the person she loves and trusts, betrayed her.

Maybe it was karma? Maybe she deserved it. She deserves it for being a bad daughter and a bad fiance.

The dress was too tight. It wasn't letting her breathe.

"Mother I can't breathe" she mumbled, waving her hand in front of her face to create some type of air. "The dress is too tight"

"Tight? I barely started unbuttoning it" she said, making sure the material of the dress was fitting her. "You look absolutely beautiful"

"Mom, stop! I can't breathe!" she exclaimed, taking a step away from her mother.

"Eh, watch your tone!" the woman frowned, looking at her. "Adrian is waiting for you"

"I didn't choose that! I didn't choose to be married to a stranger! I didn't choose this stupid life!"

The older woman frowned, looking at the behavior of her daughter. There is no way she can let her act this way. There's no way she will let her daughter keep doing this.

"Stop talking, Liliane!" she screamed, slapping her cheek and not caring about the mark her hand will leave later.

The young woman gasped, looking at her side and feeling the tears threatening to fall.

"Hear me, you little spoiled brat" her mother said, pointing at her with anger. "This will be the last time I tell you this. Your life would have been way better if you did everything we wanted you to do. You are the daughter of one of the most important men of England. You only had one thing to do and it was studying to work for your father and then having his place in the firm!"

"I never asked for this life!" she screamed. "I never asked to be your daughter, to have all the money we have, to be a Barton! I never wanted to get married to Adrian!"

"Shut up!" she screamed. "Get ready, the guests are waiting"

With that, her mother walked out of the room leaving her alone in front of the mirror.

That woman is not her. The reflection is not her. That woman, dressed in a white dress with a veil and expensive jewels, is not her.

Liliane Barton is just a wax figure her parents molded the way they wanted, and with every mistake she made they added the double pressure to mold it better.

But Lily, the girl she always wanted to be, never wore jewels. She never wanted to look like her mother, even if she was the exact copy of her. She never wanted to have the same life she had.

"Fuck it" she groaned, grabbing the diamonds necklace and pulling it out of her neck, breaking it. "Fuck everything! Fuck everyone!"

She took off her dress, leaving it on the floor of the hotel room and kicked it away from her. She grabbed the veil and made a ball with it, throwing it to the bed.

She feels free, not wearing that tight dress anymore.

But she needs more freedom.

She looked around, finding the clothes she came into the hotel, clothes that have more of her essence than the ones she was going to wear later.

Quickly, she got changed into that floral dress and into her flat sandals, throwing the high heels to the mirror, breaking it, and grabbed her bag.

If someone finds her in the corridor she's wasted. If someone finds her running away she's wasted.

"Good" she nodded when she opened the room door, not finding anyone around.

She ran for her freedom. She ran with everything that was hers inside that bag.

"Get out!" she said to the man that was inside the car that was going to take her to the chapel.

"But… miss Barton" he frowned.

"I said get out!"

The man sighed, leaving the keys for the car inside and getting out of the vehicle. He could see her shaking, the mark of a hand on her cheek and the make up messy.

Lily drove to her apartment, to her small space of freedom. She parked the car and got out of it, opening the door of the apartment and rushing inside of it, searching for bags and things to take with her. Clothes, her personal identifications, her credit cards. Everything.

She called the bank to make sure her parents didn't take away her money. Money that wasn't hers but she knew that she would need.

If someone looked at her from the outside they would think she was crazy, with her makeup and messy hair, a big suitcase and a backpack next to her and a big smile on her lips while looking at the departure screen at the airport.

Greece. Greece is the place she belongs. Something deep inside of her tells her to go there, like soft voices encouraging to buy a ticket no matter how expensive it is. Melodic voices promised her that her destiny is to be there.

And she did that. She ran towards her freedom.

She ran away, leaving her past behind in a hotel room with clothes on the floor, a broken mirror and broken jewels.

Liliane Barton was a woman that didn't want to live in a lie, but fell in love with one.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz @sticksdoesart @beatricemiruna

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kiragecko · 1 year

Text

Hey, guys! Want to vote on the best 6th-10th Century script (writing system) that I, Gecko, personally like?

Of course you do! Writing systems are SO COOL!

And here's a bit about each of the contenders:

Arabic (Naskh Script)

Derived from the Aramaic Script, which grew out of Phoenician, Arabic has a variety of forms. The Naskh script is the one I find the most beautiful, with it's extreme variation on character length and height. I also love the use of multiples colours for Ḥarakāt (vowel marks and other diacritics). Add in the elegant curves and solid lines, and Naskh Script becomes one of the most stylish scripts around.

Latin (Insular Script)

Derived from Greek, the Latin alphabet is usually a competent and pleasant mix of lines and curves, uprights and descenders. Insular script plays with these qualities, and the result is electric! many of the uprights (t, d, f) are gone. New descenders are added (r, s, f). Horizontal lines take a new prominence. Line weight is increased, and the curves become more angular. Something old to us becomes new again.

Chinese (Semi-Cursive Script)

There are many ways to write Hanzi (Chinese characters), and Semi-Cursive Script manages to combine the best qualities of most of them! The expressive curves and flow of a cursive script. The solid shapes and readability of Regular Script. One of the joys of Hanzi is the visual interest of so many unique characters; which share components, but use them differently. Semi-Cursive keeps much of that interest, while also providing a dynamic energy and movement.

Sogdian (Cursive Script)

Derived from the Syriac script, which grew out of the Aramaic Script, the Sogdian Alphabet was developed by traders who met most of the major cultures of the Old World, and let all of those cultures affect their language and writing. Sogdian can be written write to left, like most Aramaic scripts, but also top to bottom, like the Chinese Scripts of their main trade partner. Curvy cursive lines, and characters of wildly varying length, give this script a interesting sense of flow.

Hebrew (Ktav Ashuri Script with Palestinian Vocalization)

Another offshoot of the (Imperial) Aramaic Script, the Hebrew Alphabet has a really interesting, heavy, square, solid feel. In contrast, Palestinian Voicing (an extinct form of writing vowels where all of them were above the consonants) is really light, stacked on top their vowels in little floaty towers. It's a cool combination!

Maya (Classical Maya Script)

The most famous script of the Americas, Maya has one of the most unique reading orders of any script. Characters are written in blocks, which are then read in a zigzag (right, and then down-left) pattern. Full of heads (both animal and human), torches, seeds, and other half-identifiable shapes, Maya texts are works of art, and the more you study them, the more beautiful they become.

Nubian (Old Nubian Script)

Derived from Greek with additional letters from Coptic (Egyptian) and Meroitic (a previous Nubian culture). Lines above letters are used to skip parts of words deemed unnecessary. The mixture of rectangles and triangles, heavy and light line weights - it reminds me of telegrams, or early typewriter text. I love it!

Khmer (Angkorian Khmer Script)

Derived from the Pallava Script, which derived from the Brahmi Script, Khmer is probably my favourite script to write. The curves feel so good! The spirals so pleasing! You write consonant clusters by writing little letters below the main one! A joy to create, and a joy to look at.

Japanese (Cursive Script)

See these wiggles? They're Chinese characters. Elegant, looking like poetry no matter what they're saying, Cursive Japanese is art. It's also ridiculous. 3 different characters, each with multiple strokes, indicated by wiggling the brush as you draw a line! Most cursive scripts are like this, but the contrast between the square solidness of Regular Script and the flow of Cursive is one of the more extreme. What a delight!

Sanskrit (Siddham Script)

I had SO MANY options for Sanskrit (Brahmi) Scripts, you guys. SO MANY! But in north-west India, during the period I study, this version of Siddham is the prettiest. Look at the curves! Those aren't just decorative, each curvy line that goes above or below the text is a vowel. Consonant clusters are shown by combining the characters together in one spot. The lines at the top haven't yet started connecting, like they do in modern Devanagari, but there's already a sense of it's existence. Such a cool script!

#long post #gecko's polls #calligraphy #scripts #writing systems #arabic #hebrew #khmer #maya #latin #nubian #sanskrit #sogdian #chinese #japanese

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comphy-and-cozy · 1 year

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The Mystery of Love - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: college!Andrei Svechnikov x fem!OC

Summary: Boston University senior Vivian Adams is the quintessential Miss Terrier - President of her sorority and star student, with big aspirations waiting for her as soon as she crosses the stage at graduation. What will happen when she gets paired with her ex-boyfriend and BU’s hockey star, Andrei Svechnikov, for the biggest project of her college career? College AU.

Word Count: 11.8K

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 for @antoineroussel’s Winter Fic Exchange! I won’t lie, when I first received my match I had a minor (major) freak out (Demi can confirm). I admire you and your writing so much, Nat, and I was petrified of creating something for someone I think is one of the best writers on this site. Thank you for (unknowingly) challenging me to create something that felt worthy to gift to you. I hope you enjoy!

Huge S/O to Demi for beta-ing, dealing with my thousands of messages, and reminding me to be more confident in myself. And to @suitandtys for her endless support and being a sounding board (+ for the 90210 inspiration). 🖤

Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), some angst, some fluff, brief mentions of/references to anxiety, Greek life themes/mention.

NHL Masterlist / Moodboard

When Vivian Adams met Andrei Svechnikov, she had no idea just how much he would impact her. Sure, he was handsome—anyone could see that—but he was also sweet, charming, and incredibly caring, and he understood her in a way that others couldn’t. He might not have been her “ideal type”, but he certainly became the one that made all of the others irrelevant.

If she thought about it, it was no surprise how she fell for him as fast as she did. He lived in the dorm building next to hers, discovered at some “Back to School Bash” during their freshman year at Boston University. It was awkward, but so was everyone there, searching for connections to make with people that would very likely shape their college experience as Terriers.

Vivian stood uncomfortably to the side with her roommate and a few others from their dorm, doing her best to mingle with other nervous freshmen. There were only so many times she could ask, “Where are you from?” and “What’s your major?” before she started to go insane.

But then, a tall, handsome boy approached her to join his volleyball team, gesturing to the sand court behind him. Andrei. All he needed to do was smile, and Vivian was gone. Soon enough, they were meeting for breakfast at the cafeteria, having weekly lunch in between classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays after psych lecture hall, and meeting up to study in the common room of her dorm with their other friends.

The friendship came quickly, and the romance wasn’t far behind. Andrei found comfort in Vivian’s soft smile and innocent nature, while Vivian felt at home in Andrei’s warmth and his inner child. It was like a movie, the pretty girl paired with the athlete, though instead of the football team’s star quarterback, he was a grungy hockey player. Regardless, he certainly had the good looks of the leading man, with prominent muscles and a dimple that could melt anyone’s heart. When Vivian joined a sorority and began climbing the social ranks of Terrier Nation, having a handsome athlete for a boyfriend certainly didn’t hurt her standing.

Their relationship made it through the summer, a difficult distance since Andrei went back to Russia to spend time with his family. Through regular video calls and frequent texts, they maneuvered the time difference as well as they could have, trying to enjoy their breaks while still looking forward to when they could be together again in Boston.

Despite the familiarity of campus and routines, fall semester of their sophomore year brought new challenges: more advanced classes, an Alpha Zeta leadership position, a part time job, and heightened expectations of a big year for BU men’s hockey. Andrei and Vivian carried the wisdom of sophomores who had learned lessons the previous year, but still had the naïveté of 19-year-olds navigating their newfound freedom. Their reunion after a summer apart was wonderful, but the feeling was short lived.

Between the hockey schedule, extracurricular obligations, and their regular coursework, Andrei and Vivian struggled to find free time to spend together. More often than not, their schedules conflicted; when Andrei was free, Vivian had class; when Vivian had a break, Andrei had practice. It became increasingly frustrating, only having time together at night, and even then, Andrei often fell asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.

Change was inevitable, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dreading it.

The day they broke up was dark. Literally. It was storming outside, rain falling in heavy sheets as students ran for cover under their umbrellas and the awnings of campus buildings. Having forgotten her umbrella that day, Vivian got back to her dorm room drenched. With a rare two free hours before her herNetwork (an organization for women in business) meeting, she planned to take a nap before heading early to the library to knock out an assignment, but was instead met with Andrei waiting anxiously at her dorm.

Truthfully, Vivian had been feeling distant from Andrei, too, but genuinely hadn’t had any time to think about it between her Alpha Zeta obligations, planning the herNetwork fundraiser, and heading into the last stretch of the semester before winter break. Andrei was equally busy with travel, his season in full swing, along with keeping up with the rest of his schoolwork, but he couldn’t deny that the distance from Vivian was tearing him apart.

It wasn’t what she expected when she saw him, dark circles under his eyes and an uneven, patchy shadow of hair growing along his jawline. But as he sat on the edge of her bed, sadness in his eyes, it was both of their hearts that broke that day.

In the end, it was a mutual decision; not for lack of love, but simply due to the rift that had grown between them as their other responsibilities took priority. Andrei held her as she cried, staining his faded BU Hockey t-shirt with her tears. Their last hug was warm, but bittersweet, as Vivian did her best to soak in the last traces of his cologne on her sweatshirt.

Vivian wasn’t bitter, or even regretful; the only thing she regretted was that it hadn’t worked out. Andrei was such a kind, wonderful person, humble despite having every reason not to be, and she knew he’d have success wherever he went. Truth be told, she hadn’t really thought much about their future, past their wonderful BU bubble, but after they broke up, she realized how different their paths were. Andrei was destined to be an NHL star, while Vivian would surely make Forbes’ 30 Under 30 list at some point. Their lives just didn’t mesh – and she had to come to terms with that.

Two years later, Vivian was in the last semester of her senior year, fulfilling and exceeding every expectation set in front of her. President of her sorority and herNetwork, star student, expecting to graduate summa cum laude with a double major in Business and Finance and undoubtedly multiple full-time job offers, Vivian Adams was the quintessential Miss Terrier.

Andrei was also in his last semester, though his college career had taken him on a much different path, focused almost solely on hockey. Drafted by the Carolina Hurricanes, he hoped to have a record senior season before heading to Raleigh to live out his dream of playing in the NHL. The Bachelor’s degree in Business was just a backup, a safety net, should things not work out. But, given that he was a shoe-in for the Hobey Baker and already expected to be a Calder finalist in his first season, his future seemed all but cut out for him.

As their social circles had drifted apart over time, Vivian and Andrei didn’t see each other much, the run-ins at bars and parties less than frequent but not entirely nonexistent. Their ties to the business school kept them in each other’s lives, albeit on the fringes, often passing each other in the hallways on the way to class. Though they rarely spoke outside of the occasional smile or wave, they had a few classes together over the years, a familiar comfort having him in the back of the classroom.

So, Vivian wasn’t overly surprised to walk into her capstone class to find Andrei already seated in the last row, scrolling on his phone. She settled into her own spot, across the room from him, just out of habit, though she offered a small smile when he looked up from his phone and saw her looking at him.

‘Nervous’ wasn’t quite the proper word to use to describe how she felt about her capstone class, but it was close. As she listened to Professor Janes explain the partnered project, she became increasingly anxious and excited to get started. An intimidating semester-long project, surely the biggest one of her college career, it included bidding for company-sponsored projects with varying focuses ranging from marketing to strategy to operations, all ultimately culminating in a presentation of the proposal and recommendations in front of the company’s executives at the end of the semester. No doubt a successful presentation could result in a potential job offer, or at the very least, very crucial networking for a young professional about to head into the real world. In short, a lot of close personal time with whoever she was paired with, and a lot riding on their mutual partnership.

Then, add in the fact that Professor Janes mentioned she’d be assigning partners rather than letting them select their own, an additional layer of suspense tacked on. Her justification was, unfortunately, sound, being that they wouldn’t have the luxury of picking their teammates and coworkers in the ‘real world’, and it was important to learn how to work with someone you may not know very well.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—for Vivian, she knew her assigned partner a little too well and nearly dropped her phone when she received the email from Professor Janes later that week. She read it over three separate times, part of her in disbelief when she saw her partner’s name listed beside hers.

Adams, V. / Svechnikov, A.

Then she saw his name pop up in a text, and she knew it was real.

[Andrei Svechnikov:] Well this is gonna be fun [Andrei Svechnikov:] Should we meet for coffee to talk about it? [Andrei Svechnikov:] The project, I mean

With a deep breath, Vivian’s eyes traced over his name in her phone, a brief but powerful rush of memories flying through her. Somewhere along the way—she didn’t remember when—she’d changed his name from ‘Drei 💖’ to his full name, sans emoji. Looking at it now, so formal and impersonal, it made her heart ache just a little bit.

[Vivian:] Brian’s at 2pm tomorrow?

January

Coffee wasn’t awkward, but it was the first time they’d spent real time together since they broke up two years prior. To Andrei, Vivian had only gotten more beautiful in time, her confident nature making her even more attractive as she’d grown up; seeing her up close only solidified his thought with her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She still wore the same perfume—wafting into his senses even from afar as she approached—and Andrei had to distract himself from the rush of feelings that flooded his system at the scent by waving to a friend passing by behind her.

“Some project, huh?” he asked, watching her slide into the high-top stool across from him.

Vivian glanced at him and shook her head in disbelief. “It’s an awesome project. Real world problems for real world companies—it’s such good exposure. It’s just also, you know, kind of petrifying at the same time, for the same reason.”

“I’m paired up with the smartest girl in the program,” he grinned. “I know I’m gonna be fine.”

Vivian rolled her eyes, brushing off his compliment. “You’re smart, too, Andrei.”

“I’m a hockey player,” he said with a shrug. “I’m only as smart as I need to be, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with competing for the Natty.”

“Andrei, this is the most important project of our lives. I need you to be as smart as possible, not only as smart as you need to be. You may already have your next step laid out for you, but I don’t have that luxury. Not all of us can be prospects for an up-and-coming NHL team.”

His eyebrow quirked, amused at her worry. “You know about that?”

He watched Vivian’s eyes widen slightly, shifting uncomfortably as she admitted to following news about Andrei even after they’d broken up. She cast her eyes down, thumb running along the seam of the cardboard sleeve on her coffee cup, as if searching for an excuse. “It’s hard not to know.”

“But you still did your research. The Canes aren’t even in the Bruins’ division.” He grinned again, pleased with her admission and the knowledge that she’d gone out of her Boston bubble to investigate his future plans. “You looked me up!”

With a roll of her eyes, she nudged his leg with her foot. “Shut up. Of course I did.”

Feigning pain, Andrei grabbed his ankle with both hands, giving a dramatic cry. “Ouch! You better be more careful around these superstar legs.”

“Can we talk about the project now?” she sighed, shaking her head at his antics. Andrei conceded, though he noticed the small smile that played at the corner of her lips as she pulled her laptop out of her bag, pleased at his ability to still make her laugh.

February

After selecting their project—a review of an eCommerce site’s operations and subsequent marketing plan—it was easy for Vivian to morph into planning mode, creating a project timeline and documenting each necessary step to get there. From there, they worked together to divvy up the work, scheduling weekly meetups at the library to review and discuss their findings and any hiccups.

Andrei was unexpectedly easy to work with, accepting the pieces she assigned him without complaint. Sure, he was still more committed to hockey than the project, but he still managed to complete his work (almost always by the deadline), and usually with minimal nudging on her end. He was a hard worker, always had been; she saw it every time he stayed late after practice to work on his one-timer, or the time he spent studying at the library, his thermos of tea gone cold beside him while he worked on his flashcards. He was smarter than she remembered, too, certainly not relying solely on her brain but contributing his own valuable insight and analysis to the project, even pointing out a hiccup she would have otherwise missed.

A lot had changed in two years, but Vivian was surprised to find that many things stayed the same, too.

Andrei still had the same endearing laugh, the one that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and the same goofy sense of humor and positive attitude that she fell in love with. He still stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he concentrated hard, and sometimes still muttered to himself in Russian when reading an English article.

Vivian was equally surprised that he still remembered her coffee order. About three weeks into their weekly library meetings, he started bringing a fresh cup for her—iced, with toffee nut syrup and a splash of almond milk—occasionally adding something different, like cold foam or an extra pump of vanilla syrup. It was a sweet gesture, something she continually offered to pay for, that he would wave off and smile, saying ‘it was the least he could do’ because she was the one keeping the project afloat.

Mostly, Vivian was startled by how easily she fell back into stride beside him. Things were different; she’d changed, and so had he, but the foundation of their relationship was still strong, having weathered the storm of time. While part of her felt like she was getting to know him all over again, there were parts of her that felt like she was reuniting with an old friend—and in some ways, she supposed, she was.

Having Andrei thrust back into her life wasn’t something she was expecting, and she was unprepared for how having him in such close proximity would affect her. Though they were amiable, she tried to keep him at arm’s length out of pure precaution, keeping the majority of conversation about the project and surrounding schoolwork. But, of course, it was only inevitable that there were extra details thrown in now and again; a synopsis of his latest game, his brother’s success in the NHL, his upcoming Finance exam.

As the weeks went on, she began to piece together the parts of him that she’d missed, adjusting to the way it felt to have him reclaim a regular place in her life. The details of him that she’d forgotten, like his missing tooth and the way his hair flipped out slightly at the ends when it got long, came trickling back into her conscience, unexpected but not entirely unwanted.

On the nights where their project work went late, Andrei would walk her home, refusing to let her walk on campus alone at night. They’d laugh, tell stories, joke around about the crush Andrei had on Professor Janes. It was subtle, patient, slow in the way the rift between them began to shrink, a small but crucial crack in the hardened shell around their hearts.

The project itself was going swimmingly. It was everything else surrounding the project that was confusing.

Andrei was deep in an article about eCommerce operations, Vivian typing away across from him, when the buzzing of Andrei’s phone startled them both. With a glance at the screen, Andrei grimaced when he saw his Coach’s name appear. Sending an apologetic glance in Vivian’s direction as he stood, he stepped toward the door to take the call in the hallway.

“Hey, Coach. I’m at the library. What—?”

“I just got the midterm reports, Svechnikov. A ‘D’ on your Finance exam?”

Andrei’s eyes closed and he sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “I know, it was a bad exam.”

“I don’t have to remind you what failing your classes looks like for both this team and your future.”

“I know, Coach. I hear you.”

There was an edge of empathy in the otherwise cool frustration of his Coach’s voice. “I understand that it can be difficult to juggle school and sports, but the rest of your teammates are doing just fine.”

Andrei choked out a weak I’m trying, doing his best not to give his Coach unnecessary attitude.

“Get a tutor if you have to. Playoffs are only a month away, and I need you to have your shit together. Okay?”

“Okay,” Andrei sighed.

“I’m serious, Svechnikov.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Okay. See you at practice later.”

“Yeah. See you.”

With another frustrated sigh, Andrei hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair while he composed himself. When he moved back toward the door, he noticed that it was cracked open and prayed that Vivian couldn’t hear his conversation.

“Everything okay?” she asked once he came back in, not glancing up as she continued typing on her laptop.

“Yeah,” he smiled, settling back into his seat and returning his attention to his own laptop screen, though he couldn’t bring himself to resume his article perusal, staring blankly at the cursor on his document.

There was a moment of pause as Andrei assumed Vivian bought his lie, his Coach’s voice echoing in his head. Then, her voice broke the silence. “Does your coach always call you to ask about your exams?”

Andrei’s eyes shot to hers, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooding his body as he realized she’d heard the conversation. Fuck.

“It’s nothing,” he said with a half smile, attempting to brush off the encounter nonchalantly.

“Andrei,” Vivian said softly. The warmth in her brown eyes told him that she saw right through him, just like she always did.

There was another pregnant pause as he debated if he should open up, a pivotal turning point in their relationship coming upon him all at once. Something unseen inside of him pushed him to go on, and reluctantly, he admitted, “My grades are… bad. If I fall below a 2.6 GPA, I’ll be on academic probation and I can’t play.”

“What are you at?”

“2.74.”

Vivian was unable to stop the sharp intake of breath at his confession, which caused Andrei to look at his lap bashfully. He wrung his hands together, twisting them as he sat in his discomfort and shame, embarrassed in front of his ex-girlfriend who had only ever received one ‘C’ in her life. It was a miracle she’d ever been interested in him, the dumb jock, in the first place, only logical for the smartest girl in school to move on to someone bigger and better than him.

“I’m working on it,” he said quickly, in defense of himself. “It was just a bad exam. I’m shit at Finance. It’ll be fine.”

She didn’t have to say anything, instead watching him understandingly, reading right through his confident facade. Her eyebrows raised, silently telling him she knew he was feeding her bullshit, and before he knew it, the words were spilling out of his mouth, a confession of his guilt and worry for his future. He had made the decision to stay in school, finish his degree before heading to the NHL despite the fact that he would’ve been eligible after his junior year. He felt like a failure, delaying his hockey career to get a degree that, at that point, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of getting, afraid of flunking out before the semester’s end—in which case, all of it would have been a waste.

“I’ll help you.”

“You what?”

“I’ll help you. I can tutor you.”

“Viv, you don’t have to—”

“Andrei,” she said firmly, “my grades are tied to yours now. If you’re not doing well, then I’m not either.”

“But Alpha Zeta, and—”

“We’re already here together once a week. It’s not a big deal to add on some homework, too.”

She had a point. And she was one of the smartest in his class, majoring in Finance. It really would only just be a little extra help here and there. If he was being honest with himself, it would be silly for him to decline.

His eyes held with hers, searching desperately for the words he could use to thank her. Nothing came, only jumbled bits of Russian and English that would surely not make any sense if he said it out loud, so instead he stood up, crossed the room, and engulfed her in a hug. She seemed taken aback, but she relaxed once he gave her a tight squeeze, a hug that was reminiscent of the last one they’d shared together two years ago.

“Thank you, Viv.”

March Tutoring Andrei came natural to Vivian, a fond parallel to all of the times they had spent studying together freshman year in her dorm. What’s more, she found herself looking forward to their study sessions—she intentionally used that term rather than ‘study date’—though she told herself it was because they were finally seeing tangible progress on the capstone project, and it felt good.

She didn’t know why she offered, or what made her blurt it out as soon as the thought arrived in her brain. She only knew that she felt an overwhelming urge to help him, to not let him fail his dreams—even if a Bachelor’s degree ranked second on that list.

Sure, she liked the ego boost that came from being smart enough to tutor someone else, but the more they met, the more she learned that she liked Andrei best when it was just them two in a study room, free to be himself without the outside pressures of the world. Out there, he was expected to be something, as was she, but being alone with him reminded her of the Andrei she used to know and the late nights they’d spent talking about dreams and goals and aspirations in the comfort of her dorm room.

As the semester progressed, Thursdays became Vivian’s favorite day of the week. Having only two classes and a large break between them, she was typically able to get caught up on the majority of her work. Surely, it was the rewarding sense of accomplishment that made her love Thursdays and had nothing to do with the fact that Thursdays were also her weekly meetings with Andrei.

Yeah, sure, they often ended up staying at the library late into the night, chatting as they worked on the project or his latest Finance assignment. And, sure, sometimes she’d feel his eyes lingering on her when he bid her goodbye. But those were minor details, obviously. Vivian certainly didn’t look forward to hearing the sound of Andrei’s laugh and the way his dimple lit up his entire face when he smiled. And she definitely didn’t like the way he felt sitting beside her, the way his arm would sometimes brush against hers when she’d lean over to look at his textbook.

No, Andrei absolutely, positively, had nothing to do with why Thursdays had grown on her.

The weekend before spring break was always a big party weekend, and this year, Pi Kappa Lambda’s “Life’s a Beach” party was the hot event of the season. Despite not having enough time in his schedule to formally rush and commit to a fraternity, Andrei was close with many of the Pi Kap brothers, and it had become the unofficial athletic fraternity. Needless to say, Andrei had the date marked for weeks. Pregaming at the hockey house with Jimmy Buffett on blast, he was excited for a highly-anticipated evening of drinking and debauchery.

Andrei was talking with a teammate when a group of girls walking in caught his attention. He wasn’t surprised to see Vivian there—Pi Kap was one of the top fraternities on campus, and while he had never really bought into the whole ‘social tier’ thing, he understood the importance of appearances at these types of functions. She looked good, he thought, with her safari hat, Hawaiian shirt, and those cutoff shorts that displayed her perfect legs.

Vivian didn’t seem to notice him, engrossed in greeting her friends, but he continued to watch from across the room, admiring her commitment to the theme and, of course, the way her unbuttoned shirt gave him a view of the slope of her breasts. The more Malibu he consumed, the better she looked, unable to stop himself from glancing back over at her even as he made conversation with other people. He never approached her–partially because he was a little too inebriated to say anything that didn’t involve her tits–but, really, he was just content to watch from afar, observing the infectious impact she had on everyone around her.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he had to begrudgingly watch when she began to dance with a guy—some junior-frat-rat with a disgusting mustache on his upper lip. Andrei gritted his teeth as he watched his slimy hands make their way onto her hips, toying with the frayed end of her cutoff shorts in the way that he would have if she was still his girl.

Andrei didn’t really know the guy—Derek, he thought his name was—but he knew for a fact that he didn’t deserve her, wouldn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Did he even realize who he was dancing with?

Had he been sober, Andrei probably would’ve written it off as two people dancing at a party, harmless, most likely meaningless. But he wasn’t sober, and Drunk Andrei was convinced that Dirty Derek would be popping the question anytime, and it drove him mad, his fingers itching to wipe that smug mustache off his face.

Fortunately, Drunk Andrei was also smart enough to know not to interfere–or maybe it was his Coach’s voice in his head warning him not to do anything stupid before the playoffs. Either way, Andrei kept to himself and his rapidly depleting mixed drink. He’d had his opportunity with Vivian, and had thrown it away just as easily; it was his burden to bear, not hers, left to muddle whatever his feelings were for her alone.

So, instead of wallowing in his own pity, he turned his attention to the pretty blonde girl who had been flirting with him all night. Like any other 20-something-year-old boy, it was all too easy for him to forget about his long lost lover in a great pair of tits. As he kissed her, his tongue wrestling with hers against the dirty wall of the frat house, the coconut rum impairing his system was just enough to allow him to imagine she was Vivian.

April

The sound of buzzing didn’t quite wake her, but the sound of her phone falling on the floor certainly did. Startled, it took Vivian a moment to recognize that her phone was, in fact, ringing. With a groan, she heaved herself out of her cocoon and leaned out of her bed to grab the phone, an unfamiliar number flashing across the top.

Vivian silenced it, wondering briefly why they were calling in the middle of the night, and figuring whoever it was would leave a voicemail if it was really important. Glancing at the time—1:17am—she sighed in frustration when she calculated she’d only been asleep for 2 hours before being interrupted by a call that wasn’t even important. Annoyed didn’t quite do it justice.

But then the ding on her phone alerted her to a voicemail. All she had to see was “Andrei Svechnikov” on the transcription before she was hurriedly pressing the phone to her ear.

Five minutes later, she was shoving on some boots and a coat before jumping into her car to drive to the campus security office.

The parking lot was almost empty, save for the handful of campus security vehicles. When she walked inside, Vivian’s eyes connected with a blonde woman behind the desk, glancing up at the sound of the door.

“Hi, are you Ms. Evans?”

She nodded. “Is Andrei okay?”

“He’s alright, just had a few too many,” she explained, causing a wave of relief to rush over Vivian. She’d process what that meant later. “One of our guys found him stumbling alone and picked him up. He’s over 21, so he won’t be charged with anything; we just wanted to make sure he got home safe.”

Vivian nodded in understanding, thankful for once that campus security was doing their job—she remembered the times she’d dreaded seeing their vehicles pulling up to parties when she was younger, having to slip out of a back window more times than she’d care to count. She sat as she waited for one of the security officers to retrieve Andrei from one of the back rooms, also thankful that they’d kept their hockey team’s star player hidden from public view while he was obliterated.

The tall Russian stumbled into view, his arm sloped over an officer’s shoulder as he helped walk him down the hallway. Vivian grimaced, noting Andrei’s bright red cheeks and disheveled hair. If she had to guess, she’d bet it was Jose Cuervo that did him in; tequila always made him lose his mind.

“Viv!” he shouted excitedly, a bright smile lighting up his face when he saw her waiting in the lobby. “You here! Did you get invite to party, too?”

She shared an amused glance with the officer before saying, “Yeah, Andrei. I got invited to the party, too. But it’s over now, so we have to go home, okay?”

Blowing a raspberry in disappointment, Andrei pouted, but agreed. “Ohhhh-kay Viv. If you say so.”

Vivian thanked the officer for helping her six-foot-something ex-boyfriend into the passenger seat of her car, set up with a spare towel just in case he couldn’t make it home without getting sick.

“Andrei,” she said to him once his seat belt was fastened firmly against his broad chest. “Do you have your keys?”

“You so pritt… ty,” he replied, slumping over against the window, the coolness a relief against his warm skin. Vivian did her best to ignore the compliment, writing it off as drunken nonsense.

“Andrei,” she repeated, more stern this time. “Are your keys in your pocket?”

“Why? You–” Hiccup. “–you comink over?”

Vivian took a deep inhale in, swallowing her frustration before she turned to look at him. “Andrei, you need to go home. Can you get into your house? Do you have your keys?”

Whether it was the firmness of her tone or the look in her eyes, something about her third attempt made Andrei swallow thickly, blinking slowly as his hands fumbled around his pockets. Her heart sank when his hands came out empty, a frustrated sigh leaving her mouth. Back to her place it was.

Andrei mumbled mostly nonsensical Russian as she drove back to her apartment, drifting in and out of silent moments as he’d doze off. The few moments of sleep he got seemed to help only slightly as she helped get him out of the car, legs nearly buckling under his weight as she helped get him inside.

It was only after she stepped into the living room that she realized she had a decision to make. Her bedroom was upstairs, the couch downstairs. Technically, her ensuite bathroom was much closer to her bed than the ½ bath on the main floor was to the couch, plus she knew she wouldn’t be able to hear him getting sick if he stayed downstairs.

So, begrudgingly, Vivian steered Andrei toward the stairs, thanking the powers above when he began to put one foot in front of the other to climb them. She barely had time to think about how he hadn’t been inside her bedroom since they broke up two years prior. Now with a different mattress and a different bedspread—she’d upgraded to a larger mattress once she moved into an off-campus apartment—the thought that Andrei hadn’t ever been in this bed briefly flitted across her mind before he was stumbling forward into it, falling face first into the pillow. It wasn’t exactly what she envisioned when she thought about Andrei in bed—not that she thought about that, either. Not that often, at least.

Based on the instant snoring, Vivian assumed he’d cashed out for the night, and entirely dead weight, he’d be impossible to move. So, she retrieved the small trash can in her bathroom and set it next to him, moving his head to the side in case he did get sick in the middle of the night. She tugged off his shoes and pulled an extra blanket over him since he’d fallen on top of the comforter.

Thankful that her housemates were all asleep—not wanting to deal with explaining why her ex-boyfriend was asleep in her bed—Vivian retrieved an extra glass of water, along with a few extra Tylenol from the cabinet to set on the nightstand beside him. She tugged off her own coat and shoes before crawling into bed, unfamiliar with the dip he created in the mattress.

“Viv?”

The sound of his slurred voice and thick accent startled her, surprised that he was still conscious.

“Hm?”

“Did you kiss him?”

“Kiss him? Kiss who?”

Andrei was silent for so long that Vivian thought he’d fallen back asleep. “D… Derek.”

“Derek?”

“From party... Beach party.”

The memory came flooding back, her vodka-infused night at Pi Kappa Lambda a few weeks back blurry but still recollectable. She didn’t know he’d seen her indulging in the warm touch of her dance partner, but what Andrei didn’t know was that though she was dancing with Derek, it was flashes of a tall Russian that filled her mind, imagining it was him running his hands along her sides. And when her fleeting sobriety returned to her in flashes, and she realized it wasn’t Andrei, she couldn’t bring herself to go home with him despite the throbbing need between her legs.

“No, I didn’t kiss him, Andrei.”

Andrei hummed. “Good.”

Despite her foggy memory, Vivian couldn’t ignore the pang she felt in her heart as the image of Andrei kissing the pretty blonde Delta Phi in the corner, his lips no doubt working their sinful magic against hers. How could Andrei be bothered by her dancing with someone when he’d been doing the same with another girl?

“But you kissed that girl.”

He hummed again, this time accompanied by a loose wave of his hand. “Yeah. But was finkink… was finking ‘boutchu.”

In the pause that followed, as she tried to process what Andrei had said, the end of his sentence was soon punctuated with a loud snore. Not that she would have even known what to say to begin with, confused, disappointed, and relieved all at once. As she listened to his uneven but deep breathing, she pondered his words in his head until she fell asleep, the warmth from his body shielding her from the cool air in the room.

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of Andrei groaning loudly. What she saw when she opened her eyes, though, was not what she expected. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he’d stripped off his sweatshirt and his shirt, his chest entirely bare save for the familiar silver cross that hung from his neck. Before she could stop herself, her eyes were trailing down the muscles of his pecs, down the line of his abdomen, admiring that he was in even better shape than he had been when they were together.

Fortunately, Andrei didn’t notice, instead busy rubbing his eyes and wincing at the movement. “Oh, fuck. Feel like got hit by truck.”

His accent and lack of pronouns were endearing, and she nodded toward the glass beside him. “There’s water and some medicine on the table. You should take it.”

With his eyes still closed, Andrei mumbled a thank you, groping blindly for the pills. Instead of grabbing them, though, he knocked the glass over, spilling water all over her nightstand and the floor. “Fuck. M’sorry.”

With a sigh, Vivian heaved herself out of bed, grumbling under her breath as she went to retrieve a towel. She refilled his glass with water from the faucet, thrusting the cup into his hands a little more forcefully than she intended.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of him gulping down half of the glass, quenching only a portion of the Hungover Drought in his mouth. Breathing heavily, he laid his head back and shut his eyes tightly.

“Did we… ?”

Vivian resisted the urge to laugh, instead raising her eyebrows in an amused way. “You could barely walk, let alone make any specific body parts function.”

He hummed, then, “What happened?”

“I don’t know. You had a lot to drink. I got a call from campus security at one in the morning to come pick you up.”

Andrei shut his eyes again; whether he was racking his brain for a memory, or willing away his hangover, she wasn’t sure. He let out a deep groan, the kind that she could practically feel the vibrations from.

“Come on,” she urged, nudging his shoulder gently. “Can you stand up? I’ll take you back to your apartment. By the way, you lost your keys.”

Andrei groaned loudly, fumbling in his pockets before he let out another. “Fuck, I lost my phone, too.”

“It’s over here, charging. It was almost dead last night,” Vivian explained, unplugging it and handing it to him. With one eye open, Andrei squinted at the screen to send a text to his roommates to see if someone could let him in.

They sat in silence for a moment, Andrei’s eyes closed tightly as he did his best to will away his hangover. Vivian listened to the sound of his breathing, doing her best not to glance at the way the muscles in his core rippled as he breathed.

“Viv,” he said softly, glancing at her as if afraid of how she’d answer. “No one’s answering.”

With a heavy sigh, Vivian rolled her eyes and threw her head back in frustration. “Of fucking course they’re not.”

“It’s not my fault!”

“You’re the one who lost your keys and got yourself in this situation,” she shot back, standing up.

“Where you going?”

“If you’re going to stay here, you might as well shower. Might help you feel better. Hopefully they’ll answer by the time you’re done so I can get on with my day.”

“If you’re going to be so cranky, why did you even come last night?” he asked.

“Because I got a call from campus security at one in the morning, Andrei. Scared the shit out of me. I thought you were dead or something, but instead you were just obliterated out of your mind. Great time to get belligerently drunk, by the way, two days before our presentation. You should be grateful they didn’t charge you with public indecency or something.”

“Oh, yeah, because I definitely got picked up on purpose–”

Vivian scoffed, rolling her eyes. She tossed the towel at him, purposefully covering up his bare chest so she didn’t have to keep looking at it.

“Why did you even have them call me? I’m not your–” she swallowed the word girlfriend, “– you have other friends. Teammates.”

It was Andrei’s turn to scoff, ignoring her question in favor of sitting up and pausing for a moment to let the lurching in his skull subside. She watched his long fingers massage his temples, though she knew it wasn’t helping by the way his brows furrowed on his forehead.

“I didn’t tell them to call you,” he finally said. “They called because you’re still my emergency contact.”

“I’m what?”

He shrugged. “My parents and brother obviously aren’t here. I just never changed it.”

Vivian didn’t know if she was touched, or annoyed, or sad—or maybe all of the above. At the end of the day, she had still dropped everything to make sure he was safe; would always come if he needed her to. No matter what she did, she couldn’t deny that she cared about him, deeply.

As he showered, she pondered what all of it meant. And when she dropped him off, making sure he was safely inside his house before driving off with a wave, it hit her so hard she had to pull over on the side of the road.

She wasn’t sure if it was a still, or an again, the details not mattering much. All she knew is that she was in love with Andrei Svechnikov.

While everyone else was preparing for the end of the semester and exam season, Andrei’s season was approaching its peak as BU prepared for the Frozen Four. As anticipated, his name had been announced as one of the three finalists for the Hobey Baker, adding an additional layer of pressure to his game. Although he already had been drafted and had his future in front of him, he couldn’t deny that it’d be extremely flattering to win the award—but he’d trade it without a second thought if it meant he could raise the championship trophy with his teammates.

The increased training meant less time to study and complete his homework, which also meant less time with Viv—though, as their presentation day grew closer, their communication amped up naturally. Andrei found that he was willing to put off the rest of his work in favor of focusing on the project, in part due to it being such a large portion of his grade, but largely because he couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing Vivian.

Before he knew it, presentation day had arrived. Andrei made Vivian promise that she’d get a good night’s sleep—and she claimed she did, though Andrei noticed that she’d made changes to the slideshow at 12:06am, no doubt combing through every inch one last time.

They were driving together to CyberComm’s headquarters, a large high-rise in downtown Boston. Andrei met at Vivian’s apartment, waiting patiently while she checked her bag to ensure the flash drive with the extra copy of the presentation was tucked safely in the pocket. As he waited, he smiled when he noticed the vase of flowers sitting on the kitchen table; a ‘thank you’ he’d sent after the campus security fiasco. He also couldn’t help but notice that although Vivian was dressed professionally, he was pleased that her attire revealed the slightest sliver of skin on her chest, instantly reminding him of the cleavage he’d caught a glimpse of at the Pi Kap party.

Vivian drove to the office, allowing Andrei to continue casting glances at her as she navigated traffic. His eyes slid over the shape of her lips, the dip of her nose, the way her dark hair spilled over her shoulders in luxurious curls—the ones that, in his opinion, always made her look like a model. She was beautiful.

Not that his opinion on the way she looked had ever wavered, even after they broke up. He had always thought she was pretty, and had since the first time he saw her during freshman orientation—it was half the reason he’d asked her to join his volleyball team. But something about the way the sun lit up her skin, casting a glow over her made his heart beat just a little bit faster. She was confident in herself, but not cocky; essentially, everything he aspired to be as an athlete. Even two years removed from their relationship, Vivian was still inspiring him to be a better person.

Once they arrived at the office, Vivian checked in at the front desk. While they were waiting for Sherry, the Executive Assistant to the CEO, to retrieve them in the lobby, Andrei’s nerves began to kick in. They sat in silence, Andrei running through his script in his head until the warmth of Vivian’s palm on his leg brought him back to reality.

She offered a smile that reassured him, only just then realizing his leg had been bouncing as he waited in his nerves. His heart raced, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of a woman walking toward them, or from the touch of Vivian’s hand on his thigh. Either way, he didn’t have time to think about it, for the woman approaching them introduced herself as Sherry, offering to show them upstairs.

Sherry led them to a conference room with a long oak table and floor-to-ceiling glass walls, like an office straight out of Succession. Andrei admired as he watched Vivian channel her sorority recruitment charm as they were introduced to the CEO, VP of Sales, VP of Marketing, and VP of Operations. Vivian, he knew, was doing her best to ignore their decorated titles and the weight riding on making a positive impression; if she was as nervous as he was, she didn’t show it. Professor Janes sat on the other side of the table, offering an encouraging smile as Andrei set up their presentation and Vivian handed out the prepared booklets to each of the attendees.

Vivian’s voice wavered slightly as they started, but by the third slide, she was her normal, charismatic self, her practiced speech coming off as confident and rehearsed but not memorized. Andrei stumbled once or twice, a pink blush coating his cheeks as he smiled through it, glancing each time at Vivian for silent encouragement.

Thirty minutes later, the presentation was done, as were the onslaught of questions from each of the panelists. The VP of Operations, Janet, was the first to stand up to shake both of their hands.

“Thank you, Miss Adams and Mr. Svechnikov. I have to say that this has been one of the best, most professional presentations we’ve seen yet. Very well done.”

Andrei could barely contain his grin, thanking her and Professor Janes as Vivian tucked her laptop in her bag. Andrei led the way out the door with one final “thank you.” Once they were in the hallway and far enough from the door, he was spinning on his heel to lift Vivian up into his arms.

“We did it!” he exclaimed, spinning her around. “We fucking did it!”

“Andrei! Keep your voice down!” she scolded, though it was punctuated with a giggle that nearly punched Andrei in the gut.

“God, you were amazing,” he said, quieter this time as he set her down. “When they asked that last question about the inventory tracking, I completely froze. You are fucking incredible.”

“I know it inside and out,” she said, brushing off the compliment. “You did great, too, Andrei. I’m proud of us.”

“One of the best they’ve ever seen,” he mused, nudging her shoulder. “Put that on your resume, Viv.”

“Too bad you can’t use that skill in the NHL,” she joked.

—

Andrei barely had time to bask in the success of the presentation before he was on a plane to St. Paul for the college hockey championship tournament. Being a hockey school, his professors were more than understanding with their deadlines, many of them offering well wishes before he left for the short but significant tournament.

As soon as he arrived, he was flooded with interviews in advance of the Hobey Baker announcement that was to take place before the game. Either way, it—both the media and the ceremony—was all a big distraction to Andrei; he had his sights set on a different trophy that was far more important than any individual award he could win. But, remembering his media training, he put a smile on his face and channeled his inner Vivian Adams.

When they called his name announcing him the winner of the award, Andrei was bashful and gracious, only allowing a smile once he was back in the locker room with his teammates who were waiting to congratulate him after the ceremony. A minor celebration—just the way he wanted it—before they were back in the zone, preparing for the semifinal game against Notre Dame. Truthfully, he was glad the award was done and over with, though he knew the questions would continue to come even once he made it to the NHL.

After a hard-fought game—and a two point game for the Hobey Baker winner—the Terriers emerged victorious. Coach granted them the night to celebrate, though Andrei was very conscious of his alcohol intake; if all went according to plan, he’d be able to really celebrate in two days’ time, once he had the trophy in hand.

The night before the championship, Andrei tossed and turned, eventually dozing off into a dreamless sleep. He awoke the next morning to a text from Vivian, feeling a tug at his heart when he saw the familiar emojis next to her name; something she’d added herself at some point during freshman year and he’d never bothered to change them.

[Viv 😍🥰❤️‍🔥🎀🌼:] Congratulations, Mr. Hobey Baker! Good luck today! Bring home that trophy to Terrier Nation! 🐶

It was the only time Andrei allowed himself to be smug; something about Vivian being proud of him awoke the unfamiliar emotions in him. If Andrei thought hard enough, he’d have put two and two together then, but when he looked back on that day in later years, he’d blame it on the pressure of the game that made him blind to his feelings.

Despite his qualms and reluctance for the attention, it was only fitting for it to be Andrei who scored in OT, surely a goal that would be on his highlight goal for years to come.

The horn sounded as confetti burst from the ceiling, raining a sea of scarlet and white over the arena. Andrei’s celebration with his team was cut short when the television crew encouraged them to line up for the presentation of the championship trophy. He was jittering, full of adrenaline; the words of the announcer barely registering with him.

When he lifted the trophy over his head, grinning from ear to ear, it wasn’t his family he looked for in the stands, but Vivian. She was the first person he sought out when he got back to campus, Pi Kapp quickly throwing together a celebratory championship bash despite being the week before exams. He didn’t expect her to be there, and she wasn’t, though that didn’t stop him from sending her one—or four—too many drunk texts inviting her out.

It wasn’t until several days later, as he was lying in bed and reading through the ‘good luck’ text she’d sent him before his Finance exam, that the weight of his feelings for her came crashing down on him. He knew he wasn’t Vivian smart, but he didn’t think he was that dumb either, to be completely oblivious to the way he felt about her.

And of course, it was just his luck that his grand revelation came to him the night before graduation day.

The buzz of Vivian’s alarm went off at 7am, but she was already lying awake, staring at the ceiling. She’d woken up around 5:30, or thereabouts, unable to sleep for the swirl of emotions building inside of her.

It was graduation day, which brought a bittersweet sense of pride. She was excited to celebrate, to reminisce on all of her and her friends’ accomplishments over the last four years, but she was also anticipating the looming goodbye to the city that had become her home—and everyone in it.

Of course, there was one person in particular that she was dreading saying goodbye to. Now that she had come to terms with her feelings for Andrei, she’d been mulling over what to do about them—tell him, and risk her heart breaking, or keep it to herself, and wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of her life.

Surely, she assumed, Andrei was already thinking ahead to his future, ready for the bright lights of PNC Arena, the fame and glory of the NHL, and beautiful girls lined up down the street for the chance to talk with him. He’d be signing his first contract soon, worth more money in one season than she’d make in five years. There was no way he would even be thinking about getting back together with his ex-girlfriend from his freshman year of college—not while he had the world at his feet.

Plus, there was the tiny detail that Vivian still hadn’t accepted a job offer, though she had received two to date; while one was in New York City, a fairly reasonable distance from Raleigh, the other was in San Francisco, on the other side of the country. Still, Vivian couldn’t shake the feeling that she should tell him, and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she kept it in and found out years later that he’d wanted the same.

Vivian had just finished applying her makeup when she heard a knock on the front door. Judging by the sound of it, her housemate was in the shower, and she knew the other two weren’t home, so she tightened the tie on her robe and ran downstairs to answer it.

As she opened the door, Vivian came face to face with Andrei—or at least, face to chest. He was panting on the front porch, half dressed with his tie undone as he stood in front of her.

“Andrei, what are you doing here? I’m trying to get ready—”

“I—you look beautiful,” he said, breathless.

“Thank you,” she said, then repeated, “What are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you.” There was a fire in his eyes that told her it was important, so she stepped aside and let him in.

Before she could say anything, he was climbing the steps up to her room, two at a time, and she jogged behind him, confused.

“What is going on? You’re scaring me, Andrei.”

“I—I had to see you.”

She raised her eyebrows, silently asking for him to continue. He took a moment to catch his breath, then said, “I couldn’t sleep last night. I can’t stop thinking about you. I almost called you like, eight different times. And then it hit me.”

Vivian held her breath, anticipating what might be coming next, though nothing could really prepare her for the words that came out of his mouth.

“Ya lyublyu tebya,” he said.

Vivian stared at him, the foreign words hanging between them in the silence. Outside of the occasional curse word or when he was really drunk, she’d hardly ever heard him speak Russian, as he put much of his energy into learning ‘good and proper’ English once he had committed to finishing his degree at BU. “I… I don’t know what that means.”

Andrei smiled, his eyes warm as he looked at her. “I think you do.”

And she did. Vivian Adams wasn’t the smartest girl in her class for nothing. But in that moment, she wasn’t Vivian Adams, President of Alpha Zeta, Summa Cum Laude. She was just Viv. And fuck, if Viv didn’t love him too.

“Andrei…”

“God, I fucking love you,” he said, like he was unable to stop himself now that he’d said it once. “I don’t think I ever stopped. It just got hidden because you weren’t around. And then we got paired together, and I just—”

His monologue was cut off when Vivian lunged forward to press her lips against his. Suddenly, he didn’t give a single shit about what else had left to say, instead focused on kissing her back as he threaded his hands through her hair. He never wanted to stop kissing her, not now that he finally felt her perfect lips again.

For the moment, she was content to just kiss him, familiarizing herself with his mouth after being separated for so long. But when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips, she was all too eager to let him deepen the kiss, welcoming him into her mouth. Andrei’s hand gripped her jaw, keeping her pressed against him while his other hand wandered to her chest, massaging her breast over the soft fabric of her robe—the way he’d wanted to since he saw the glimpse of her cleavage at the party.

Soon enough, Vivian found herself lying on her back, Andrei’s large frame looming over her as he kissed his way down her jaw. Her hands roamed his broad, muscular back, feeling the divots of his shoulders as he held himself over her. The feeling of his mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck made her shiver, his tongue tracing the spot that always drove her crazy. Judging by the moan that slipped from her mouth, it was safe to say that spot was still a weakness.

“Andrei,” she mumbled, brain fuzzy as she searched for the words to say. “We can’t—have to—”

“I know, I know. Just give me a minute,” he pleaded against her neck, mouth making its way to her chest. “Please.”

‘A minute’ turned into ten, leaving her completely naked with his head buried between her thighs. A feral groan left his mouth when his tongue first lapped against her, instantly remembering the sweetness of the way she tasted. He’d never been a bad lover, but clearly the years apart had earned him a lot of practice, for his tongue flicking her clit sent her flying over the edge with ease. Smirking to himself, pleased with his ability, Andrei placed gentle kisses against the inside of her thighs as she came down from her high.

“Viv,” her housemate called from downstairs, bursting her bubble sooner than she might have liked, “your parents are here.”

It only took a moment for Vivian to come out of her orgasmic haze, eyes widening as she realized the state she was in. Her eyes shot to Andrei’s, who was frozen with his lips on her inner thigh.

“Fuck,” she whispered, quickly standing up and gesturing for Andrei to straighten himself up. Then, she shouted down the stairs, “Hi, mom and dad. I’ll be down in a second—just finishing up!”

She was quick to throw on the dress she had set out, hanging completely forgotten once Andrei arrived. Her hair was only partially done, but she managed to salvage it by throwing a few loose curls in; fortunately, her head would be covered by her cap for most of the photos.

It was only when she glanced at Andrei, wiping off the remnants of her orgasm in the sink before she realized how this would look. Obviously, this new stage of their relationship—where did this leave them?—was more than fresh; she wasn’t even sure if her parents would remember that she told them they’d been paired together for the capstone project.

“I love you, too, you know,” she said, stepping forward to straighten his tie. He smiled, stealing another precious moment to press another kiss against her lips. “But now’s the real test—act normal with my parents down there.”

“And pretend I didn’t just have my head between their daughter’s legs?” he grinned. “Oh, baby, you know I’m a parent charmer.”

As expected, her parents’ reactions to seeing Vivian walk down the stairs flanked by Andrei was all but priceless. Her father visibly bristled, while her mother looked surprised but pleased—she’d always been a fan of Andrei.

Vivian hugged them both, apologizing for the wait and hoping they didn’t think too hard about Andrei descending from her bedroom at 8:30 in the morning. “Mom and dad, you remember Andrei.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Adams, it’s so good to see you again,” he greeted quickly, shaking her dad’s hand firmly and accepting a confused but gracious hug from her mom. “Viv and I had to submit a final analysis for our project—there was a glitch in the system.”

A weak lie, but Mrs. Adams was so pleased to see Andrei that she didn’t question it.

“Andrei, will you be heading to the convocation center with us?”

“I’ve got to meet my family, but I’m sure my mother would love to meet you,” Andrei replied with a smile. “We’ll find you after the ceremony?”

Vivian nodded, sending Andrei off with a smile and a “see you soon,” followed shortly by an eyebrow raise from her mother once the door was closed.

The ceremony itself was dull, but the day was a whirlwind nonetheless: many photos with friends and family (including a long-awaited introduction between the Svechnikovs and the Adamses), a boozy brunch with Alpha Zeta seniors and families, followed by a reminiscent stroll through campus, and finally a nice dinner with her family. Before Vivian knew it, it was 11pm and she was at the bar with her friends, taking celebratory shots that burned her throat. Vivian was happy, but something was missing.

And then that something came walking in, a smile on his face when he easily located her amongst the crowd. The dimple she’d always loved stood out, warmth flooding her body as he weaved his way through the throng of people toward her.

“Hi,” she said, as if their earlier confessions left undiscussed made her suddenly shy around him.

“Hi,” he said back, mocking her a little bit with a playful smile.

There was an elephant in the room—two elephants, really—crammed into the dimly lit room with 80’s music blaring over the speakers, but a packed bar full of fresh college graduates was hardly the place to address them.

“You want to get out of here?” he asked quietly, jerking his head toward the door.

Vivian didn’t have the words to describe just how badly she wanted that, instead nodding with a smile. He matched hers, following her out and completing an Irish Goodbye without a second thought.

The Uber ride back to her apartment was quiet save for the song playing softly on the radio, Vivian’s thigh pressed against Andrei’s in the backseat. His hand found hers silently, lacing their fingers in a gesture that went far beyond comfort in a dark car.

I saw you last night and got that old feeling When you came in sight, I got that old feeling The moment that you danced by, I felt a thrill And when you caught my eye, my heart stood still

Once again I seemed to feel that old yearning Then I knew the spark of love was still burning There'll be no new romance for me, it's foolish to start For that old, that old feeling is still in my heart

It felt like fate, and maybe it was, Frank Sinatra’s soothing voice warbling through the speakers about a love rekindled. Andrei hummed the same to her, softly, in the darkness of her bedroom as he took his time undressing her, unveiling each inch of her skin like it was brand new to him.

Strong arms held her close as he laid her back against the bed, settling his body over hers before kissing her deeply. His tongue sought out her own, his hands running over her exposed skin as if he needed to re-commit it to memory. Their position was familiar, the same one they were in just over 12 hours prior, but the weight between them was much, much different.

This time, Vivian’s hands found Andrei’s slacks, palming the bulge she met with fervor and savoring the groan that left his throat. Encouraged and eager to produce that sound again, she dipped her hand beneath his waistband and wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him lightly.

“Viv,” he grunted, nose trailing along her jawline as he held himself up—barely. “Need—need to be in you.”

She agreed wholeheartedly, helping Andrei shuck his pants down his legs, joining her clothes on the floor. It was their first time being completely bare together in years, and though she shouldn’t have been surprised, Vivian was in awe of him, a sculpted Russian god in her bed.

Andrei’s hands ran down her thighs, hoisting each of them over his hips as he settled between her legs. To slow down the moment, he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes gazing into her own before he kissed her deeply. Vivian could feel him, throbbing, bumping against the inside of her thighs, brushing against her core where she, too, was desperate to have him.

“Andrei,” she murmured softly against his lips, encouragement spoken in just a sigh of his name.

She didn’t want him to stop touching her, whining reluctantly when he sacrificed a few moments to part his hands from her skin in favor of guiding his length toward her. Vivian had no breath left in her lungs when he finally pushed in, slowly, his considerable girth something she was no longer used to accommodating. Andrei stilled, telling himself it was so she could adjust; in reality, he needed the time just as much, fearful of busting his load far, far too early.

No, Andrei wanted to savor this, to enjoy it. Though he’d had many partners since Vivian, none of them felt quite the way she did, squeezed him quite the way her perfect cunt did, made his balls tighten when she moaned out his name the way she did—but he hadn’t realized how much he missed her until that moment. Her skin against his lit him on fire from the inside out, and he was sure it was because of more than her body that he wanted to taste every inch of.

Andrei stretched her entirely, the feeling so incredibly delicious that all thought was absent from Vivian’s brain. All she could do was hold onto him, her hands caressing the skin of his arms, his shoulders, his back, her legs wrapped tightly around him as his hips dipped against hers. He was steady in his rhythm, patient, like he was following a beat only he could hear.

When his lips found hers again, he drank in the moans that she offered, tugging her up toward him until they were seated and she was straddling him, unable to get close enough. His hands on her hips encouraged her to move, to drive herself toward the high she desperately sought, that he could feel in the flutter of her heat around him. With her head buried in the crook of Andrei’s thick neck, Vivian cried out as she came, her vision going fuzzy as the climax hit her like a freight train.

Andrei’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her closely as he, too, met his end, spilling into her waiting core with a grunt. His body was tingling, as was Vivian’s, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, doing his best to pour the love that had been forgotten for the last two years back into her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, moments later when he was lying beside her, admiring the way her body looked wrapped in the sheet, pressed against his frame. The feeling of her, snug in his arms, made everything feel right in the world.

Vivian smiled, shy, burying her face against his chest in embarrassment. He nudged her with his shoulder, adding for emphasis, “You are.”

“Drei…”

The old nickname fell from her lips without her even realizing, familiar and warm in so many ways. Andrei smiled at it, liking the way it felt.

Silence fell between them, comfortable as they basked in the glorious haze. Then, Vivian’s voice spoke quietly in the darkness of her room. “I don’t want this to end.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re both leaving BU soon,” Vivian said, not ready to burst their bubble yet, but the words just kept coming out. “And I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I have offers in San Francisco and New York, and you’re going to be this hot shot NHL star, and I’m sure your DM’s are already full of pretty girls and–”

“Viv,” he interrupted her softly. “I don’t care about that. I want to be with you.”

“But… I applied to jobs all over the place,” she fretted, hating herself for letting her anxiety ruin their perfect, blissful moment.

Andrei paused, nudging her jaw with a finger to encourage her to meet his eyes. “I lost you once; I’m not going to do it again. I want this, and if you do too, then we’ll make it work. Okay?”

“You mean that?”

“Eto vsegda byl ty, Viv. The girl in my story has always been you.”

–

The next morning, the light streaming through the windows woke Vivian up, stretching her deliciously sore muscles before she registered the large, warm body beside her. She took a moment to watch Andrei sleep, his chest gently rising and falling with his breath, features so relaxed and peaceful.

When she rolled over to glance at her phone, she saw the notification for an unread email. The sound of her gasp woke Andrei up, startled at the sound.

“What? Are you oka– what happened?” he spluttered, taking in her wide eyes.

Instead of speaking, Vivian simply turned her phone toward him to show him what had tears brimming in her eyes: An offer letter for a Financial Analyst position with CyberComm.

“That’s great, Viv,” he smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Andrei,” Vivian said, sensing that he didn’t quite put it together. “CyberComm has an office in Charlotte.”

“Oh.”

“Charlotte is in North Carolina.”

“Oh.”

Her eyebrows raised, watching the realization dawn on Andrei’s face as he processed. “You’re moving to North Carolina?”

“We’re moving to North Carolina.”

Vivian didn’t know if she should call it fate, chance, coincidence, but five months later when she watched Andrei debut in his first ever NHL game, a Svechnikov jersey proud on her shoulders, she decided it was best to call it the mystery of love.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #hockey fic #nhl imagine #andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fanfic #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov smut #nhl fic #a. svechnikov #hockey imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey romance

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elena-mayfair · 2 years

Text

Back in the dream

Paring: Morpheus x f!reader, Sandman x f!reader Warnings: swearing, blood, nightmarish images Summary: As a sorceress and exorcist you got used to the nightmares in your life, creatures that you fight fearlessly. But there is one place where your fear overcomes you, your dreams. Every night you dream nightmares and every night you see him. One night he decides to reveal himself changing your life in the process forever. Word count: 3.3k Note: Gifs are not mine, credit to the authors.

Part one of the story: Lost in the dream

***

"I am Morpheus. Dream of the Endless. Lord of the Dreams." these were the last words that you heard before you drifted away into the dream. These were also the first words that you thought of after you opened your eyes. "Dream of The Endless..." you looked around your bedroom and outside of the window. It was a beautiful, sunny morning, the kind that brings a smile to one face, that promises a beautiful day full of joy. You scouted your bedroom once again and to your disappointment concluded that everything was normal, mundane even. The only unusual thing about this morning was the way you felt, you felt good, well rested, happy even. Like you slept for the first time in ages. There was no sand under your eyelids, no headache, no pain in the back, you felt wonderful.

"Lord of the Dreams." with that thought you got up from the bed, made yourself a large cup of coffee, and hit the books. You had plenty of them in your apartment, shelves full of old volumes binded in leather, with gold and silver letters on the spines that fade out over time. Occult books, grimoires, journals, and memoirs were filling in the shelves, piles and piles of mythology and legends books were filling in every smallest space of your apartment. Everything you could find, buy, steal or trade, your priceless possession. You were determined, you were curious, you needed to find an explanation. There was a part of you doubting that the events of the last night even happened "I must have dreamt it all," you thought to yourself while browsing through a particularly interesting volume about dreamwalking.

A lucid dream is one in which the dreamer is aware of dreaming and may be able to exert some degree of control over the dream's characters, narrative, or environment. Early references to the phenomenon are found in ancient Greek texts.

Nothing that you wouldn't know already. Has all of it really happened? Have you really got lost in the dream so much so that you ended up in a different, "different what? World? Reality? What exactly?" the thoughts were bothering you. "Was he really here? In my bedroom? Was it all a part of a dream?" The part of you, the one responsible for instincts and your ability to do magic knew that it indeed all of it was real, but that part was relentlessly fighting the other part, the logical one more grounded.

"I am Morpheus" flew though through your mind, chills went through your whole body on the recollection of that deep, dark voice, and his endless starry eyes. You decided that you could not have dreamt that and with that thought you switched from occult books to Greek Mythology. On the floor on which you were sitting books were surrounding you from every side. You grabbed a beautiful brown leather volume with gold embellishments and started browsing. "Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Ares, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hestia, Dionysus... where the fuck is Morpheus?!" you were turning page after page sipping a second cup of coffee "there you are..."

Morpheus, son of Hypnos, the personification of Sleep, was the god of Dreams. His name reflects his role in Greek mythology: the Greek μεταμόρφωσις (metamorphosis) translates as “transformation”, which can be broken down into μετα- (meta-) meaning “after” and μορφή (morphe) meaning “form”. Μορφευς (Morpheus) means “form” or “shape.” He could form and shape the dreams of the sleeping.

“To kings and chieftains these at night display their phantom features; other dreams will roam among the people, haunting common folk. All these dream-brothers the old god passed by and chose Morpheus.” Ovid, Metamorphoses

"I'm wasting my time," realization hit you. You knew Greek Mythology, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Norsk, Slavic you knew them all. In every mythology there were similarities. You could find a similar description of other entities in other mythologies that you were sure of. None of this was of any help to you, none of the information you could find in your books would explain last night's events and you refused to believe that he was a Greek God.

"Dream of the Endless." you reminded yourself of his last words to you. "Endless...." you knew that there was no point in hitting the books and searching for that word. You knew exactly what you would find, jack squat. There was only one person you knew that could have any useful information, but involving him was not something that you were eager to do. After all, last time you talked you didn't exactly finish up things on the good terms.

After a brief moment of contemplation and two cigarettes, you decided that you do not exactly have any other choice in the matter. You grabbed your phone, lid up the third cigarette, and waited for the signal to end...

"Y/N Wha''s up love? I''s bin a while, I assume 'ha' you've go' some'hin faw me. You would no' call me 'o check 'ah I'm doing." you heard in the phone distinct cockney accent.

"How you doing John? Seems to me you're alright, you picked up the phone after all. I would assume that there is no signal in hell" you replied with a sarcastic grin on your face.

"Ah love, 'o 'ell i'm goin faw a cha' an' a glass ov whisky. I''s good 'o be ou' ov reach ov annoyin calls once in a while."

"I'm gonna agree with you on this one," you replied "but honestly, you good?"

„S'ill live an' kickin. Wha' do you wan'" the courtesy was over, time for the business came.

"Listen, I came across this thing, and since you are in the business way longer than I am I thought you might have some information" you explained, but the fact that he did not ask you about your wellbeing did not skip your attention.

"Wha' 'hing?" he asked.

"What do you know about Endless?" you asked with no hesitation. Even though you really didn't want to get in touch with John Constantine again you knew that you needed answers.

"Time is endless love, air, space, an' bo''le ov bloody whisky af'er par'icularly good spell."

"What about Dream of an Endless?" you continued.

"Mee' up faw a drink in 'wo 'ours. We 'aven'' see each o'her faw a year. We goin 'o ca'ch up"

"You are in town?" you got surprised.

"Yes, 'ad some business 'ere. Same place as always." he replied "An' love, don'' you be la'e."

***

Two hours later you were sitting at the Smokey Joe pub, one of the best places in your town, if you were dark interior, old dusty furniture, smoking indoors, old British rock, and good whisky served in not so clean glass. You order yourself a glass of whisky and waited, waited for your old friend to show up. You couldn't help but wonder about all the times you were sitting here with John and agreeing on the terms with clients in need. You reminded yourself of all the drinks you drink with him after the job well done. These were good times. You would not admit that to him but you've missed these times.

"'ello love! you look 'roubled as usule." blond man in the tan trench coat seated himself on the opposite side of the table. Facing you he smiled at you.

"Hi John," you replied with an honest smile, despite everything you were happy to see him "it is good to see you"

"Tell me love, wha' kind ov mess you go' yourself in'o?" he did not waste a time for any small talks.

"I hope none, but something happened," you started but realized that you do not exactly know how to describe last night's events "Can you tell me something about Endless?"

"Why do you wan' 'o knah?" he asked

"John, just tell me..."

"I' does no' wawk like 'ha' love. You ei'her goin 'o 'ell me aw you goin 'o ge' jack on 'he pla'es ov fucks from me." he interrupted, "You 'ake me faw a plonker? folks don'' walk around 'own 'alkin abou' endless! I'm doin 'his gig way longer 'han you do. You've mee' one 'aven'' you."

"I..." you took a sip of an amber liquid from your glass "I think so."

"Which one ov 'he bloody endless you mee'?"

"Dream." you replied shortly. The image of the pale man dressed in black holding you by your arms and looking at you with depthless starry eyes flashed in your mind bringing chills to your body for a second time today.

"Bloody 'ell" John took a sip from his glass "So i' is 'rue. 'e is really back."

"So he is real!" you almost screamed from the excitement, after all it was not a dream, it was real "Who is he!? John tell me!"

"'e is a bloody Sandman, fuckin kin ov da dreams!" he replied with a scoff.

"Sandman is a fairytale John, a bedtime story. He does not exist" you argued yet you felt doubt in your own words.

John looked at you from behind the glass of whisky with amusement in his eyes.

"He is real..." you said to yourself "Holy fuck...." you stared down at the table, shocked in disbelief "Who is he? What is he? Is he a God?"

"no, 'e is no' a god. Awer no' a god in 'he way you 'hink ov god. 'e is endless, bollocks 'ah 'o explain 'ha'..." he started looking at your child-like curious face "they are an an'hropomawphic manifesta'ions ov an idea, ov concep'. Always bin 'ere an' always will be. Da one you've me' is a kin ov dreams, as far as i knah 'e rules dreams, every single one ov 'he dream an' nigh'mares belongs 'o 'im an' is 'is crea'ion"

"Unbelievable... " you said to yourself "Wait, you said they"

"'e's go' siblings. Desire, Despair, Dea'h, Destruc'ion, Delirium, Destiny." he replied

"How do you know all of this?" you questioned.

"Bein on a good 'erms wi'h Lucyfer 'as i''s benefi's love." he replied with a cunning smile. "Listen love, wha'ever you 'hink ov doin don''. They are dangerous beings, beyond any'hin you have ever seen aw faced before. You come across any ov 'he bloody endless you run opposi'e direc'ion."

"I know how to take care of myself John," you replied "I don't need your concern"

"Yes, you do! because you are a bloody plonker followin emo'ions no' your fuckin brain! you goin 'o ge' yourself in 'rouble an' i won'' be savin you! fuckin don'' coun' on i'!" he hit his glass on the table spilling a bit of whisky.

"Don't worry about me," you stood up rapidly "I'll be fine." you gave him a small peck on the cheek and before he could stop you run towards the door "Thank you, John! Doing business with you is always a pleasure!" you said loudly and closed the door behind you.

***

You couldn't hope for the night to come quicker. You muted your phone to avoid John's calls, tidy up the apartment, put all the books in order, and even did some dusting just to waste some time and not think about Dream. But as soon as the night fell you took a sleeping pill, turned off the light, and got to bed. Your were breathing slowly trying to calm down your heart beating. Inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale... you were waiting for the familiar spiking needles to start in your feet and put your body into paralysis. It did take long. Half an hour later your body was numb, blood was pumping in your ears, but fear was nowhere to be found. You drifted into the dream...

You've found yourself on the dark wet street standing in front of the hospital. It was raining. White and red lights or the emergency room were flickering ominously. You knew this place, you knew this hospital. You've been here before. You desperately didn't want to get inside. You knew very well what you will see in there. But it had to play out, you had to go through it. You took one small step and felt your heart rushing in frantic fear. "Why here? Why this? you questioned. You took one more step and suddenly you were standing right in front of the entry. You looked back and all you saw dark parking lot covered in rain. You looked back into the hospital and you saw it. Doctors and nurses running through the hallway next to the hospital bed. You looked closer and you saw it, you saw your dad... lying lifelessly, surrounded by doctors, tubes, and cables. He looked at you, "My daughter" he said soundlessly and you felt your eyes filling up with tears. "Dad..." you took one step inside "Dad...it's me." you rushed inside...

And suddenly everything was gone...

...

"Dad...," you breathed out loud but the nightmare disappeared. You looked around and noticed that you were back in the dying land. You looked up on the small hill, excitement was building up in your veins. Your heart was beating fast but not out of fear and all of a sudden it skipped a beat. He was not there. "What the hell," you thought to yourself. For months you saw him in this exact place, standing in the distance like a still statue, but this time was different, he was gone.

You took two careful steps worried that somehow moving too fast will break the dream and you will wake up in your bed, alone. But when the dream did not end you started running. Not walking fast, but running with all the speed that you could master. Running towards the hill on which he was always standing, running to see if perhaps you will find something there, running to see what he was looking at all this time. You stood up in the same place where he stood before and saw nothing, absolutely nothing. Just endless plains of dust, debris, wind howling lifting into the air dead tree branches and leafs. The landscape in front of you was somehow beautiful and sad. You felt sorrow in your heart, it must have been a beautiful place once, full of life. You imagined green fields everywhere within eye's reach. Forests blooming with life. Sky blue as in the fairytales, wind gentle and soothing. It must have been a beautiful place once. Now everything around you was dead. And he was not here.

You slowly turned around, you thought it would be best to return to the same place where you always appeared in this land. It was gone...

From one side of the horizon to the other there was a wall reaching way up to the sky itself, endless, neverending. And right before you, there were gates made of horn and ivory, shining in the remaining light of the dying sun. You tried to gather it all with your eyes but you couldn't, it was so beautiful, you forgot how to breathe. You could just stand there and stare at the view in front of you. You didn't even notice him standing right in front of the door, reaching out his hand towards it.

"Morpheus..." you whispered quietly yet in the dying lands every noise stood out like the loudest scream. He slowly turned to you and you could swear that you saw surprise on his face again. Even standing in front of the endless magnificent crafted gates he looked so unreal, like a marble statue dressed in black. You smiled unconsciously partially because you were happy to see him and partially because you just proved to yourself that you weren't dreaming last night. Yet you didn't have a chance to dwell on that because within a blink of an eye you found yourself standing right in front of him.

"You have a habit of wandering in places where you should not wander to," he said calmly.

"So you are real," you whispered. You could see him for the first time up close in the light, looking at him made your heart slow down dangerously. His skin was even paler than you thought, raven hair black as the night sky on a starless night, and his eyes endless, like the universe itself.

"I am." he replied. He spoke every word slowly, with care, like he was tasting it on his lips before speaking it, like he knew exactly what to say, what you will say, like there was no point of saying anything more or less.

"Thank you for the good night's sleep," you said with a slight smile.

"You are welcome."

"This is unbelievable," you whispered again "forgive me, I don't mean to stare but, this, all of this" you took two steps away from him and pointed at the gate "this is...my god...it's so beautiful."

"These are gates made from horn and ivory," he followed your hand gesture with his eyes "I carved them myself many eons ago."

"You made these?! Unbelievable..."

"Every Dream that passes through the gate is my creation, my responsibility, " he stated "But no one guards the gates anymore, there are no Dreams in the Dreaming anymore." there was sorrow in his eyes.

"What happened?"

He didn't reply to your question. Instead, he looked at you, he looked through you with his endless black eyes, like he was trying to find an answer to the question that he did not ask.

"You are not a Vortex," he stated more to himself. "What are you? How did you get here?"

"I don't know," you replied quietly.

"Mortals cannot wander into the Dreaming," he stated.

"I really don't know how I get here," you tried assuring him "all I know is that for the last couple of months every night I was dreaming a nightmare, and every night at the end every nightmare I was ending up here." you tried explaining.

"Here?"

"I mean not hear, like hear hear. I mean in this land," you looked around you "and every time I saw you in the distance, standing on the hill, looking over the horizon" you added.

He did not say anything. All he did was look at you trying desperately explain to god like being why and how you got to his land.

"Morpheus, I am not lying to you," you tried to sound confident.

"I know." he cut you off. He turned his eyes towards the gate "It used to be a beautiful palace here, and the land was green, blooming with life," he started slowly touching the gates "Everything died during my absence." he pushed gently onto the gate and they opened, commanded by his will. He turned to you and reached out his hand "Come, Y/N. I invite you to join me in the Dreaming."

You took his hand and suddenly you felt calm, at peace. You straightened your back and follow him inside the land.

"We have much to talk about..." he added quietly.

Part three: Through the Dreaming

~~**~~

Authors note: Damn, so I did write a follow-up! :) I'm kinda surprised because consistency is not one of my strengths. But Sandman inspired me so much, swallowed me whole. I am not quite ready to let it go yet. While I'm writing I'm listing to the soundtrack and images are painting themselves. Regarding John Constantine, I decided to go with John even though I do love Johanna's character simply because I know and love John's character for a long time, and he was a part of the original source material. Also, I wanted to express in the writing his distinct British accent, I do hope it wasn't too much. My apologies to all the Brits out there, English is not my first language, I am no British, it was a purely stylish thing. In the end, as always, Dear Reader, thank you for reading :)

#morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #Morpheus imagines #the sandman imagine #Morpheus x you #Morpheus fanfiction #Morpheus fic

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beomgyw · 1 month

Text

AWAY TO OUR HOMETOWN

with every choice you open more timelines, so make sure you stay in your lane!

some of the scenes are common to all timelines, so if you go back to change one of your choices, be aware that you might have to reread some scenes. (it´s a formatting setback sowwy)

if you're new here, go back to the beginning !!

you pull out your phone, the screen lighting up with huening´s message. the text sits there, telling you that he has arrived, but as you glance around he's nowhere to be seen. you lean against a pillar, watching as the hustle and bustle of commuters gradually fades away. but there's no sign of him.

the train station buzzes with activity as you step off the train, the salty tang of the ocean air hitting you for the first time in seven years. it´s been so long since you left, but every sight, sound, and smell feels like it's been etched into your memory forever.

minutes tick by until your phone jolts you form your thoughts with a buzz. "kai?" you ask into the phone.

"hey, i'm here! where are you?"

"outside the station, waiting for you!" you exclaim.

"i'm... there too? are you sure you took the right train?"

"of course i did! i don't see..." you start, then freeze as your gaze lands on a figure a few meters away, waiting by his car—a blonde boy, talking on his phone. no way.

you begin to approach cautiously, trying to appear nonchalant in case this turns out to be some random stranger. but as you draw closer, his features become unmistakable —the almond-shaped eyes, the greek nose, that fair skin... absolutely no way.

and the closer you get, the more his face lights up in recognition, mirroring your own astonishment. before you know it, you're both running towards each other to finally merge into a tight hug.

"hueningie!? i couldn't recognise you! you... woah, look at you!"

"me? what happened to you?" he says, returning the hug. "are you cool now? why do you look good?"

"shut up! you´re the one who looks like a male model."

"aw, not a male model." he laughs, striking the zoolander pose, which of course, you return. your cousin and you are both apparently hot now, yes. but forever dorks.

you share a laugh before he hugs you again. "ugh, it´s been so long!"

"it really has..." you agree, pulling back to look at him again. "you're so grown... woah. and you're blond now?"

"it´s the beach trend, shut up." he mumbles, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

"hey, but what was the surprise..."

and kai opens his mouth, but never gets to unveil the surprise, as the car door swings open with a bang, and a blur of orange comes hurtling towards you accompanied by a ecstatic, familiar voice.

"I MISSED YOU, I MISSED YOU, I MISSED YOU!"

"YUNJIN," you screech back, heart leaping with joy.

she practically tackles kai away to embrace you in a tight hug that threatens to knock you off balance.

"she insisted on coming to pick you up..." kai mutters from his forcefully secondary spot. but you know their dynamic too well—it's all part of their frenemies routine.

"you look so pretty, yunjin!" you tell her. "doesn't she, kai?"

your cousin looks away and mumbles something impossible to decipher, but you're so hyped to see your best friend after so many years that you even forget to check how red his ears must have gotten so you can tease him about it later.

the three of you hop on the car, you taking the front passenger seat (honorary spot for the honorary guest!) and instead of praising kai for how much he's grown and how mature he looks, you and yunjin spend the whole trip making fun at his driving skills.

you enjoy every bit of the scenery, rolling down the window to breathe the summer air. you have nothing to do, for the first time in your life, you have nothing to do– no extra courses, no language lessons for extra credit, no nothing– and it feels as freeing as it is terrifying. that tranquility, you're gonna have to get used to it.

as promised, you pull up to dan's bakery, and of course, huening gets tasked in democratic election to be one to fetch the pastries. as he leves the car you hear him curse under his breath, something along the lines of "watch me turn forty and still be the errand boy."

as soon as he disappears through the bakery's door, you seize the opportunity to whirl around and face yunjin. "so. what's the deal?"

yunjin's eyes widen slightly before she puts on her best innocent face. "what are you talking about?"

"you and kai. don't tell me no advances were made in the past seven years."

"please, it was just a silly crush from middle school." she rolls her eyes, a hint of defensiveness in her tone. "i'm way past that now."

"sure..."

"i am! what a masochistic i would be, to let old emotions get the best of me." she says. and not only did it rhyme, she added a certain tune to it, so you could only figure that she had just quoted a song. "hueningie is my best friend. i was a bit into him when i was, what, twelve?" she says. and you think to yourself eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen... but she continues. "it´s ancient history. totally extinct."

"alright, fine," you relent, not wanting to push her too far. but then a memory resurfaces, your expression getting a tad more serious. "you know, talking ancient history... i met this boy named soobin on the train..."

"oh, you met him already! yes, he's cool. he became close friends with us, first year high school." she says casually. "we promised to come back during the summer."

"well, do you know if he's friends with someone who... you know, bullied me during middle school or something... he arrived here after i left, so i guess it would make sense..." you trail off.

"soobin? nah, he's not that type. he hangs out with huening and beomgyu mostly... they keep to themselves, little cult of dorks. it´s cute."

"...beomgyu?"

"yeah, you remember him, right? he was in our class. quiet kid, he played guitar in the band,"

"ah, yes!" you exclaim after a few seconds of recalling. "he worked part-time for my grandmother when she broke her hip and couldn't work in the garden. he used to come over a lot."

"well, the three of them got tight in high school. but beomgyu went through this phase, got all cocky for a while. he got hot on our junior and started dating..."

"the three of them are pretty guys, come on..."

"yeah, but huening is a loser–"

"a man of a single woman, you mean."

"shut it." she says before continuing. "and soobin is..."

"not straight."

"not in the slightest. and it's not like a gay boy has got many chances to date in a small town like this." she says. "so beomgyu broke their cult dynamic, they had their fair share of arguments. but he's mellowed out since then. actually..." she leans closer, a mischievous glint in her eye. "i wanted to run something by you,"

"what's that?" you raise your eyebrow.

"a bit of a spy mission." she says.

"huh?"

"i think something went down the summer before we left for uni," yunjin explains. "they all changed a bit. huening clammed up, beomgyu went back to being a sweet kid, and soobin got even quieter. and then they started hanging out with that guy, taehyun, of all people. it's weird, right? taehyun's in with jintaek's rugby crowd, and they're like their own little clique."

"i guess it is weird. ill help you find out, definitely... woah i'm hang now."

"right? oh, and they also became friends with someone else..."

"...who?"

"well, he's got cool hair, cool necklaces and is married to his surf board..." she trails off, a playful smirk playing on her lips.

"oh no." you say, burying your face in your hands.

"come on," yunjin chuckles. "don't tell me you're still embarrassed because of what happened."

"i will always be embarrassed about it, christ..."

"why? it happened so long ago! i'm sure he doesn't even remember. you could go for it! he's practically glued to the beach so you'll definitely run into him and we both know he's a bit of a player, so, easy catch!"

you scoff at the idea. "i'll go for it if you go for him," you counter, nodding subtly in huening's direction as he returns from the bakery, clumsily balancing three boxes and a paper bag in his mouth.

yunjin's gaze turns murderous. "watch it."

you got the pastries and some lore from while you were away, now let's go home !!

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minjunz · 2 years

Note

Can I request how do you think 00 line + Mark would be as boyfriends??

of course u can!! this was kinda vague so i went all over the place sorry <3 not really proofread

nct dream 00 line + mark as boyfriends! [gn reader]

MARK 🍰

always makes time for you even when he’s super busy

gets you flowers on single every date

steals your food by grabbing your hand as you’re about to eat and putting it in his own mouth

always backhugging you and looking over your shoulder

if he’s in a certain mood he’ll be the cockiest mf you’ve ever met but if he’s in a different mood then he’ll blush just from eye contact

next point is kinda suggestive feel free to skip this one

cockiness entails: grabbing you by the waist, doing that little smirk eyebrow raise thing he does, kissing your neck as opposed to your lips, among other things but this is a sfw post.

if he goes out to eat with the boys™️ he’ll always bring back a takeout box for you

likes slapping your thighs in a wholesome way but sometimes he forgets he’s actually strong and you have mark shaped red patches on your legs

tries his absolute best to cook for you but it just never works out

i don’t see him as getting jealous easily tbh he’s very secure

has written 10 million songs about you but they’ll never see the light of day

he likes absentmindedly playing with your hands and threading his fingers through yours

LOVES falling asleep on your stomach while you play with his hair it’s so relaxing to him

always laying on top of you but he makes sure not to put too much pressure on so you don’t get hurt

RENJUN 🍦

play fighting constantly

usually ends up cute little face kisses for both of you

if you’re smaller than him he’ll be absolutely ecstatic every time you wear his clothes

he’s used to being the small one so he loves having someone little to hold

even if it’s only like an inch difference he’ll still pat your head and kiss it

on the other hand, if you’re bigger than him he’ll be pouty when/if you make fun of him for being small

he’d look so cute in your shirts though. he’ll wear them in secret and get embarrassed if you catch him

he has the softest lips known to man it feels like kissing a marshmallow

he always tastes vaguely sweet as well

keeps everything you give him displayed somewhere

will never let you get out of bed he’s always gonna hug you so you physically can’t

would visit you at work/class just to flirt with you until he gets kicked out

the second haechan finds out you’re dating he starts jokingly flirting with you to make renjun jealous

it doesn’t work. renjun just hits him

makes couple art with you so he can hang it up around the house

you probably share jewellery

the smell of your perfume/spray will become his favourite scent even if he used to hate it

puts his cold hands on your neck for fun

wraps you up like a burrito in a blanket just because

JENO 🍩

CUDDLES AND KISSES ALL THE TIME

he likes tangling all your limbs together when you lay down

your house is running out of space for all the plushies he gives you

sends you good morning and good night texts every day if you can’t see each other

tries to get you to work out with him but it doesn’t work because you just keep staring at him. that man is built like a greek god

gives you those big boba puppy eyes until you let him cuddle with you

i mentioned this in the first dates post but he will always let you win games!!! it just makes him so happy to see you happy

only gets jokingly jealous over animals or inanimate objects if they’re getting more attention than him

has somehow developed some kind of telepathy where he always knows exactly what you want at any given time and you will get it

always brings a jacket even when he’s not cold just for you in case you are

calls you sweetheart unironically

obsessed with carrying you everywhere

he’ll pick you up in the middle of a conversation like a cat just to carry you around the room then put you back down like nothing happened

loves driving around aimlessly just to talk to you in the car

if your hair is long enough he’ll like braiding it as free therapy

sends you dog photos throughout the day

knows all your orders off by heart

HAECHAN 🧁

is he your boyfriend or your arch nemesis? nobody will ever know

if you’re talking to someone else he’ll sneak up behind you and either tickle you or pick you up and run away

probably the best kisser out of all 5 of them

likes when you trace over his moles

calls you both parent bears, renjun your baby bear, and mark goldilocks. you don’t know why

sometimes he just sits there and pouts until you give him a kiss. his record was 5 minutes before he tickled you to death

can never ever leave an argument unresolved he’ll always try his best to sort it out before the day is over

BUT. he will pout for DAYS if you accidentally make him jealous

he’s not actually mad at you he just wants you to give him extra kisses to make up for it

sometimes he’ll just scream into your ear unprovoked and won’t stop until you (you guessed it!) kiss him

please just kiss him he’s so needy

will start spewing the cheesiest pickup lines while you’re trying to go to bed

if you’re smaller than him he purposefully buys shirts that are too big for him just so they’ll look extra big on you and he can squeal at how cute you are

you’re always trying each other’s food/drinks when you order and most of the time you end up switching

he’s usually over dramatic when he flirts with you but sometimes he just gets lost in your eyes. those moments are when you know he really means it when he says he loves you

when he’s really really tired he’ll smush his face into your arm and mumble absolute nonsense but it’s so cute

he always hogs the blanket though and you hate him for it

JAEMIN 🍮

loves burying his face into the crook of your neck and sniffing

we know this man is a gift giver so best believe you will be absolutely decked out in dior because of him

you have to fight him sometimes so he won’t buy something just because you said it looked nice

he just wants to spoil you so bad

loves kisses in the morning after waking up

you always need to be close to him in some way

literally incapable of judging you no matter what you do. he’s so in love

always holding your hand and putting it in his pocket

likes having you lay on top of him like you’re his weighted blanket

cooks anything you want. he’ll learn a recipe he’s never heard of if you want it

if you’re drinking out of the house he’ll refuse to consume even a droplet of alcohol to make sure you get home safe

he’ll bring you home so many souvenirs if he goes abroad for something

if he’s had a rough day it’ll be instantly soothed just by having you run your fingers through his hair

his face lights up as soon as he sees you if he’s waiting for you

he can never order something without also ordering you something when you’re not with him. he’ll literally carry a coffee or something for an hour just for you

makes it so evident to everyone that you’re his s/o he loves showing you off

if you’re in a new environment he’s checking in all the time to make sure you’re okay

will silently replace your things when they run out. you could have sworn your perfume was empty yesterday

calls you every pet name under the sun

I didn’t mean to make these so unbalanced sorry 😭

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siryouarebeingmocked · 1 year

Text

So I've been watching a let's play of the game Hades recently.

It involving interaction with several Greek gods, as you try to escape from roguelite Hades. And also Hades.

Your dad.

One of those gods is Chaos. The primordial from which all others ultimately sprang.

This is what it looks like.

In case you're wondering what it sounds like, it's a dude's voice put through a voice filter to sound more androgynous

Just for context, their previous game, Transistor, had two human protagonists and 4 antagonists. Two of them were men married to each other. One of them with a woman who stalked the female protagonist, and wanted to get the female lead away from her boyfriend.

By which I mean, "she tried to kill him with a magic flash drive in the shape of a sword".

So when I say Hades; protagonist refers to Chaos as "gentlebeing", and his adoptive mom calls Chaos "they", I strongly doubt it was because chaos has a group identity.

Also, a lot of the Transistor side characters have personal profiles. Including gender. One of them is "X".

Anyway, back in Hades. One of the gods you interact with is Aphrodite. She says can't wait for the player character to escape the underworld so she can introduce him to mortals. Specifically, "ladies and/or gentlemen".

You know, it makes sense that she doesn't actually know who the hero prefers, but this seems a bit...clumsy? Why not just say "mortals"? If she wanted to be specific, why not "Ladies! Or gentlemen! Or both!"

Then it sounds like someone trying to be accommodating to her relative, instead of a rehearsed speech.

Of course, it might actually be rehearsed. It would be in character.

I don't know. maybe they had to save room in the text box.

And for the record, the game's character designs are hot. Literally by design. *

I suspect the game was intended to appeal to the horny Tumblr-type audience. There's even dating sim bits. The hero is canonically bi.

Also, it bugs me that the characters use "hell" and phrases with "hell" in them. Hades isn't hell.

On the other hand, I suppose the alternatives are removing those phrases altogether, or awkwardly subbing in Hades for hell.

And I've seen way too much of that sort of thing from David Weber books and other old school sci-fi.

* I don’t really see it, even just for the women. The closest thing to hot is Aphrodite, and she’s so blatant it turns me off.

#hades #diversity #lgbt

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facts-i-just-made-up · 2 years

Note

Do you have any facts about Jupiter's moons?

I have many facts about Jupiters moons. I have many facts per moon. Jupiter has many, many moons. I have so many facts about Juptier's moons that if I listed them all here it would crash tumblr. The facts I know about them are so explosive and amazing that if you heard a tenth of them your brain would literally fucking explode. And you know what? I'm not gonna tell you a single one.

Facts about Jupiter's Moons:

Jupiter’s moon Ganymede is the only moon that has its own moon. It’s just large enough to hold a small 2km meteor in its orbit, and with Jupiter’s help, the meteor seems to be on a stable path. Despite this, the other planets all talk behind Jupiter’s back and won’t let Ganymede near their own moons.

Callisto, the musical moon, is known for its witty lyrics and fun Afro-Caribbean folk beats. It is also made of crabs.

Io is covered in volcanoes. Though these volcanoes are expected to clear up in a few years, they cause Io much anxiety and unpopularity in the Jovian high school scene.

Europa is covered in ice, under which life may exist. This life would theoretically look and act much like Jim Henson's "Muppets" and live on a diet of small bacterial colonies. I know this because fuck you that's why.

Amalthea is named after a nymph from Greek mythology, the only solar object to have the distinction of a mythological name.

Himalia was discovered in 1904 by Sir Edmund Hillary, who was the first man to summit its highest peak, unless you count the thousands of Jovian locals who are not recognized by Earth historians because we suck.

Thebe is what happens when you blow up a firecracker on a meteor and it gets stuck in a big planet's gravity.

Elara is made entirely of hair, hence its nickname, "the hair moon."

Pasiphi- Pasiphea- Pasi- Whatever fuck this moon I'm not typing it.

Carne, the meatiest moon, is delicious in quesadillas.

Metis is shaped like a noodle, specifically rigatoni. It may also be buttered. NASA's next probe will check to see if it's ready to serve by throwing it against a wall.

Lysithea is a student at the Officers Academy who is from the Leicester Alliance and is a member of the Golden Deer. A magic prodigy, her family was targeted by the Adrestian Empire. You can recruit her during the War Phase so long as you chose the Crimson Flower route.

Sinope is the homeworld of filmmaker Christopher Nolan. It was discovered by someone at a place called "The Lick Observatory." Eww.

Ananke was of course the chosen one until it fell behind the dark side of Jupiter. It was supposed to bring balance to Jupiter, not leave it in darkness.

Leda is known for fucking a swan. Not even kidding they named the moon after a lady famous for nailing an overgrown goose and laying eggs. I'm not even referring to mythology this happened in the 1970s.

Adrastea is a popular moon to take over in Solar Quest because if you don't have enough fuel to leave Jupiter's orbit you can charge anyone who lands on it like a gazillion dollars.

Callirrhoe makes me giggle.

Themisto is the only moon around Jupiter not to hang out in a group. It's the 'forever alone' moon. Probably because of its bad body odor due to its distance from Speedstiq, the deodorant moon.

Praxidike has an eccentricity of 0.1840. That means it won't lend out its DVDs but lets them get all scratched anyway.

Kalyke is the only moon in the solar system named after a Superman comics character. Kalyke is an obscure villain who is obsessed with kidnapping Superman and showing him episodes of I Love Lucy.

Iocaste was thought to be a star until 1996 when it finally moved. Juptier's slowest moon, it orbits the planet once every 60,000 years and doesn't even text back, it leaves everyone on 'read' like an asshole.

Taygete is a perfectly round and completely green moon. It's made of pure emerald. It would cost over 50 trillion dollars on Earth, and would crush most cities.

Megaclit is, wait. Megaclit? Are you fucking serious? What do I even joke about with this one? Uh… Megaclit was discovered only recently as none of the cis male astronomers could find it? Whatever, its called MEGACLIT make your own joke this one's a freebie.

Dia is the only moon of Jupiter to have been discovered by day. Sorry this one is weak I'm still laughing at the moon MEGACLIT.

Harpalyke has only been spotted once, and never again, leading astronomers to believe it left Jupiter in an argument over ethics in gaming journalism.

Helike is named for that dragon on the bridge in Dark Souls that fucking kills everyone the first time right when they think they beat the first boss and they were doing well.

Thyone, full name Thyone Power, starred in lots of Zorro movies.

Hermippe is what happens if you lift from your back and not your arms.

Chaldene? Uh… Something about the fire in Howl's Moving Castle maybe? I dunno.

Isonoe- Moon of the Mole People, a people best known for airing on Adult Swim and then never coming out on DVD.

Eirene- Wasn't this moon in Sherlock?

Eukelade is named for a guy who ran around naked because he noticed that metal didn't float. No wait that's Archimedes, he said Eureka and that's not even what this got its name from. Oh wait, I MAKE SHIT UP. Yeah I'm going with it.

Aeode is a good Theatre of Tragedy song.

Autonoe is the term for films made by Gaspar Noe after he went on autopilot and started making boring art crap instead of head smashing flicks.

Ersa, boring. Unfunny. How can that compare to MEGACLIT?

Pandia is about where I began to regret doing a fact for every fucking moon around Jupiter big time.

Carpo is named for a blend of Marx brothers.

Euanthe is the smallest moon ever to star in its own reality show.

S/2017? What they literally ran out of names? They just started naming them after years and crap. Fuck this. There are another 30 moons and they didn't even bother to name half of them, why should I keep going when fucking NASA didn't?

LOL, "megaclit."

#juptier #astronomy #space #nasa #fire emblem #unreality #long post

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transmutationisms · 10 months

Note

re: the ask you received on body fascism reading recommendations, i read 'the expressiveness of the body and the divergence of greek and chinese medicine' by shigehisa kuriyama and i found it so... underwhelming. my biggest issue was that kuriyama was more invested in paying lip service to the frameworks discussed than engaging in genuine investigation. i also found it a bit myopic in that kuriyama never fully explored opposing/differing ideas. the fact that most of the recommendations had similar issues for you is regrettable seeing as the field is so rich. tbh, the best book i've probably read on it is foucault's 'discipline and punish' which is obviously not excellent, but... as you said, hopefully, one day someone will tackle the subject in a more enlightening manner.

hm i disagree about both texts. to me the major issue of the kuriyama is that it's a comparative history clearly more interested in using chinese medicine to understand greek medicine than vice versa. so, this is not a text i'd recommend to anyone whose primary interest is chinese medicine. but, for the questions kuriyama sets out to answer (eg, why was bloodletting so central to greek and later european medicine for so long? what assumptions about the body, the senses, and the environment invisibly shaped anatomical knowledge in the greek canon? why were greek anatomical models so muscular, and was this something that was self-evidently written on the body itself or that viewers perceived because of how they were trained to look at and see the body?) —for such questions, the comparison is extremely useful because kuriyama is using the contrasts between greek and chinese medicine to explain these characteristics of greek medicine that we still often take for granted, but which are, in fact, historically specific and just as 'anomalous' or 'weird' as the characteristics of other medical epistemologies may appear to be for those who are trained into greek-descended or 'western' medicine. i rarely recommend a comparative history because there are methodological issues, and like i said, this is not a good text for studying chinese medicine in itself. but i find it extremely useful for historians of ancient greek medicine, the bloodletting chapter in particular. in regards to this idea of body fascism, i was mostly thinking of chapters 3 and 6, which discuss the muscular ideal and the idea of the body as a discrete entity whose strength and health are constantly at risk of being encroached upon by external environmental factors. to me this is useful historical context for understanding the long history that pre-figured overtly fascist ideals of the muscular male body as a signifier of autonomous will and selfhood, as well as context on conceptions of the body as being a 'pure', untainted site of 'health' that can be cultivated, shown off, and defended via practices like removing 'unnecessary' blood that has the potential to 'corrupt' the body through excess.

in regards to foucault, 'discipline and punish' is not the text i would recommend because for foucault, this disciplinary paradigm prefigures the biopolitical one on which i think an understanding of body fascism ought to rest (foucault's case studies here are primarily, respectively, 17th–18th century france, and then 19th-century france). i did consider including a few of the essays on biopolitics on that list (specifically some pulled from the 1975–6 series, and the 78–9 series) but ultimately decided against it because foucault's historical methodology is so consistently bad/absent, his formulation of biopolitics was never really completed or organised (they're lectures), and he was primarily interested in biopolitics as a technology of governance, whereas scholars of fascism, exercise, and fat studies have done (i think) admirable work in expanding these ideas to examine ramifications of the state's biological methods of population management for individuals' bodies and psyches. foucault is admittedly conceptually a huge foundation for my thinking on this topic but i don't think it's always necessary to read him directly (he's in literally 75% of footnotes and historiographies on this topic anyway) and i would not recommend d&p on this because again, even by foucault's own telling the purely disciplinary society prefigures modern biopolitical technologies of power; in particular, with regards to body fascism, i think it is absolutely necessary to understand the role of public health and social hygiene in governance, and this is something that in foucault's framing is part of the shift to biopolitics (the state's massifying right to 'make' live and 'let' die) rather than discipline (the sovereign's individualising right to 'take' life or 'let' live).

#kuriyama #foucault #also i do have crits of the rest of the body fascism list but kuriyama is the only comparative history so the only one w that specific issu

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fanfic-corner · 1 year

Text

Destiel Emotional Hurt/Comfort Fics

Hello everyone! Beating our favourite characters up just so they can be fixed up again nicely is brilliant, but I also love fics that explore the emotional side of hurt/comfort, since it's often easier to fix a bullet wound than a broken heart. So, I hope you enjoy today's list of fics which mentally beat our favourite characters up!

Please note that a lot of these fics contain heavy subjects, so please make sure to read all of the warnings and tags before reading and take care of yourself!

choices. by scoundrelhan (1.1k)

Castiel thinks he’s dying. Humans are always doing that.

Exposed to What You Hide by SailorChibi (1.8k)

"We think Cas is a procubus," Sam blurted out. Then he winced and yelped when Charlie kicked him under the table. "Ow!"

"Smooth, Sam," Charlie snapped.

Dean looked back and forth between them, realizing that they were both 100% serious. "A procubus."

"Basically it's the sexless version of an incubus or a succubus," Charlie explained before Sam could. "It's... it's a demon that kills people by sleeping with them." She was chewing on her thumbnail now, eyes big and apologetic. Sam had done one better pasting on a truly epic kicked puppy expression of apology.

"You think Cas is killing people by cuddling with them," Dean said, just to be sure.

Could Not Return You by tigersinlondon (2.8k)

Dean struggles to commit to a long term relationship with Cas, even though he knows he's in it for the long haul. Cas helps tease out what's holding him back, and provides some much-needed reassurance.

You are my home by Desirae (4.7k)

Things have settled down since rescuing Sam. Mary is bonding with her sons, and Castiel is nearly back to full capacity, just needing a little sleep here and there. When Dean discovers Cas' unusual resting spot, what starts as a series confessions leads to the emotional healing they both needed.

Stories Are Made of Mistakes by wildhoneypie (4.9k)

In which Cas is human and doesn't understand basic concepts like: clothing, Mythbusters, moisturizer, and Greek food. Dean is...Dean and doesn't understand basic concepts like: boyfriends, language, how to tell your friend that he's a walking miracle, and when not to quip.

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.7k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

Event Horizon by Winglesss (6.4k)

Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation.

When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

broken when I'm lonesome by SailorChibi (7k)

After being saved from hell, Dean's old methods of coping aren't working anymore: he's not sexually attracted to anyone, and he's not interested in sex no matter how many times he climbs into bed with hot, naked women.

Sam is convinced that his brother is just depressed, but Dean knows this goes deeper than that. He still craves the intimacy that can make him feel safe.

Fortunately, Castiel is there to both understand and provide.

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime (7.8k)

Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says—

“Uh. No.”

It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on.

He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be.

“Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it.

The Beginning by Princess_Aleera (17k)

Where a mission goes horribly wrong, and Castiel gets his wings plucked off for it.

That Black Dog Ache by SaltyWords (28k)

A simple case turns Dean upside down as he attempts to deal with the effects of a particularly strange love spell.

First Gentleman Wanted by youaresunlight (31k)

President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

Just Like You by imherecauseimnotallthere98 (35k)

When John shows up at their door in the middle of the night, the Winchesters and Cas start looking into who or what could have brought him back. Meanwhile, Dean struggles to keep his relationship with Cas a secret from his father, with some help from Sam. The tension rises between the Winchesters as Dean shows John that he is no longer the obedient little soldier he once was, and tries to establish himself as an equal with his dad.

Rewriting the Book by MonPetitTresor (37k)

When Sam gets a little too close to stopping Metatron’s plans, the angel decides to use some of his extra juice to get Sam out of his way by sending him to a completely different reality. He never could’ve predicted what Sam might find there – or what he might bring back home with him.

Wild by Castielslostwings (67k)

Castiel and Dean meet for the first time on a plane ride out of Nowhere, Alaska. Castiel’s headed home after an impulsive solo vacation and Dean, a hardened Alaskan native, is just trying to get out of the impossibly small town he grew up in that’s got nothing left to offer him. They forge an instant connection over Dean’s flying anxiety and whiskey, a meet-cute that has all the makings of a rom-com with a sickeningly sweet happy ending. That is, until their plane explodes in mid-air, crashing headlong into the Alaskan wilderness and killing everyone on board save for Dean and Castiel. When no rescue shows up to save them, the two men are forced to make some tough decisions. To make it home alive they’ll have to trust each other and find faith neither of them has ever really wanted. Will they survive or succumb to the unforgiving mountain wilderness? And will their journey tear them apart... or bring them closer together?

carry on by foolondahill17 (91k)

God is dead. Sammy finally has what he always wanted. The kid is alive again and trying to figure out the whole human schtick. Cas – Cas is complicated, like always. And Dean is barreling headfirst into a mental breakdown. It’s the end of the road so far, and the future never looked so frightening.

The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas (111k)

Dean Winchester is on the run from his life. He's done something unforgivable, and can't face his family or friends ever again. So he does what any rational person would do: fakes his own death and vanishes into the ether.

Wandering aimlessly along country roads, he succumbs to the elements during a violent storm and wakes up hours later in the home of a stranger: a single dad living alone in an isolated beach house, with a haunting past of his own. Cas is sweet and shy, but welcomes Dean into his home and tells him he can stay as long as he needs, never prying into his life or asking him to spill his secrets.

As they rapidly forge a close friendship, Dean finds that the quiet life by the ocean with Cas is exactly what he's been dreaming of. He only hopes his past never catches up with him.

Bound To You by Chipper99 (128k)

Faced with death, Dean makes one last ditch effort: praying to an Angel he knows wont hear him. Deans prayers are answered when a vessel-less Castiel forces himself out from the Empty, taking possession of Dean's body in order to heal him. Castiel's grace is running finite however, charged down after saving Dean's life. Now Castiel resides within Dean's mind, too weak to survive a transfer to another vessel, leading them to a desperate search for a way to rebuild his body. Time is of the essence, with Castiel's grace burning out with every passing day...

Four Letter Word For Intercourse by bendingsignpost (194k)

As a grease monkey turned college freshman, Dean's constantly three seconds away from being stressed out of his mind. It hardly helps that he's finally figuring out his sexuality in his thirties.

What might help with that stress is a little phone number (and a big credit card bill). If he can't figure out how to be bisexual in person, he can at least give it a go over the phone, right?

(It's probably a bad idea, but he really can't help himself.)

I hope you enjoy reading these fantastic fics!! And thank you to the amazing authors for sharing them with us. If you ever have any requests for a fic rec list, please let me know!

tag list under the cut! ask to be added or removed :D

@summer1066 // @goncharovcum

#destiel #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #spn #fic recs #emotional hurt/comfort #ao3 #long post #lina lore #suicide mention

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mask131 · 1 year

Text

The Zeus Case: Why such a messy love life? (1)

Short answer: Because people are parrots who repeat blindly everything they hear without doing their research. :)

Long answer: get ready for a class.

So I expressed several times my strong dislike of TV Tropes’ descriptions of the Greek gods, and they notably use to describe Zeus one quotation from the Youtube channel known as “Overtly Sarcastic Productions”. This is the quote:

From a modern perspective, when we look back at the original tellings, it’s very difficult to see Zeus doing his thing and conclude anything other than that the king of the gods is an omnipotent serial rapist who leaves a trail of shattered lives and bastard children in his wake and this pantheon is a fucking nightmare.

This quote is a perfect summary of how modern Internet perceives Greek mythology... and this point of view is wrong. I am sorry to say that, but it is wrong. I do enjoy the OSP videos, I do follow faithfully their Journey to the West videos and the like - but they also simplify some stuff to fit a small-video format and, of course, ARE OVERTLY SARCASTIC. That’s in their very name. Their videos are fun to watch, but I wouldn’t use them as a scholarly work about Greek mythology.

And so studying Zeus’ love life reveals a much more complicated history and evolution than just “In truth he was a serial rapist but nobody wanted to say it”.

1) If you want it Roman, sprinkle some rape

Let’s tackle already the very concept of “Zeus as a serial rapist”. The answer is: no. I already talked about it previously (see my post about rape in mythology) but the whole reputation of Greek mythology as being all about rape is a huge misunderstanding caused by the Romans. Most of the stories of mythological rape came from the mind of Roman authors and writers. Ovid is a particulary bad offender, because thanks to his rape fetish he either invented lots of rapes or reinvented consensual relationships into rapes - and the problem is that Ovid’s Metamorphoses, despite being a Roman text that built a Romanize mythology, was used for a long time as a source of info about “Greek mythology”. When it was as Greek as Disney’s Hercules. And with Zeus you can actually see that: if you look at the texts in which most of his “rapes” are recorded... They are either Roman texts, or texts written far after the age of Ancient Greece, texts written in a Romanize Greece or by authors who tried to “reconstruct” the lost Greek myths by taking the preserved Roman versions as a source. So while yes Jupiter was a rapist, Zeus wasn’t a “serial rapist”. I haven’t checked EVERY story mind you, so there might some true “ancient rape”, but most of the time there is no rape - at most there is deceiving as for example Zeus will disguise himself under another shape, but this calls for more subtle, case-by-case analysis, as the transformations were done as much to not frighten/kill the often mortal lovers, as to protect said lovers from the wrath of Hera.

2) If you like it, don’t say it

There is an implicit consent in Ancient Greek texts that modern audience, sensibilized to sexual harassment and “the evils of patriarchy”, often does not get. When someone rapes another person, the Ancient Greek author will explicitely say it. There will be descriptions of struggle, of violence, of resistance. If there is no mentions of that, if the relationship is not called a “rape”, it won’t be a rape. This notably led to a great confusion due to several myths describing Zeus “taking away” or “ravishing” a person in animal form, snatching them away from their home or community to isolate them and have love with them. I can sound like rape - but in effect, in the text, it is just ravishing someone. The confusion notably arose in latinized languages thanks to the word “rapt”, “rape”, originally meaning “taking someone away by force - usually with romantic or lustful intents but not always”. With time “rape” became what we know today, but in old-fashioned language a man in love with a girl but refused her hand by her parents, if he took her away from her parents nonetheless, it would be a rapt/rape - even if the girl was in love with him, because it was still forcefully and brutaly stealing away from a family/from parents. There is a big confusion arising from all that.

Second point is that in Ancient Greek texts, there is no need to explicitely describe the love and the consent of two parties to say “this was a consensual relationship”. While rape is explicitely described as rape, consensual love is not glossed much about. It will often just be said as “X laid with Y and they had three kids”. Or “X came into the bed of Y” or “Y was loved by X”. Often only one side of the couple will be evoked, but not because it was a one-sided relationship - just because there is an implicit consent that is not explicitely described. The Greeks thought that by nature, if two people had children together, it meant they had to be in love. If a man was described as “entering a girl’s bed” without mentions of him enslaving her or brutalizing her, it meant that she had allowed him to climb in her bed. It was a thought-structure that has been recently lost in an effort to prevent the “romanticism of rape”, but it was a thought logic that was prevalent in Ancient texts. Rape is explicit, consent is implied.

(This also tied with a very Greek aesthetic of “sexuality is vulgar”. The Greeks were known to be disgusted by too expressive manifestations of desire. Sexuality was a needed and fine thing - but in moderation and subtlety. If someone loudly or openly enjoyed having sex, they were seen as pervs. Poets kept their art... well, poetic, by saying as little as possible about sexuality itself. This is why Ancient Greek statues of male nudes depicted such tiny genital organs. To have a “big one” was seen as something vulgar and ugly, as a manifestation of an excessive lust or overflowing desire that repelled rather than attracted. On the contrary, to have small sexual organs was something attractive, elegant, “polite” we may say.)

3) Confusion

If Zeus’ love life seems so messy today, it is because people confuse everything and mix together stories from so many sources.

I already pointed out that there is a confusion between the Roman sources (aka “Greek myths rape edition”) and the actual Greek sources. But people also love to throw in Orphic content, not realizing that the Orphic religion was not the “mainstream” religion of the Greeks. This is why it is called “Orphic religion”, not “Ancient Greek religion”. Orphic poetry and Orphic literature fits with an Orphic cosmogony and Orphic rites that differ MASSIVELY from what we know as “Greek mythology”. Orphic religion is WEIRD and completely reinvent the Greek gods and legends by mixing them with motifs and concepts taken from Near-East and Middle-East religions and mythologies ; and so “fusing” it with well-known Greek myths such as the Homerics or the Hesiodics necessitates a HUGE rewrite because they were NOT made to fit, they belong to two different worlds.

For example this is where you’ll find the whole legend of Zeus raping Persephone. Which doesn’t fit because if you look at “traditional” Greek myths, Zeus never slept with any of his daughters.

4) Love VS Lust

As I said previously, the Romans and the “late” Greek authors (understand those that wrote in a Romanize Greece or in a post-Roman Greece/Christianized Greece) took the habit of turning the love life of the gods into a series of rapes and savage hunts. This applied to Zeus’ love life.

Because if you look at the older texts, at the “original” texts, what are the words you find? You find the words “seduction” - Zeus “seducing” women, women being “seduced” by Zeus, aka a process of charming and attracting his lovers, and the lovers themselves falling in love with Zeus or allowing him to share a night with them. And you find the word “love”. Zeus explicitely describes his feelings towards his old flames and affairs as “love”, or “sweet love”, “deep love”, “tender love”.

This is in sharp contrast to the later writers and the depictions of rapes who use more explicit words such as “desire” and “lust”. There is a sharp contrast between the “older” Zeus as an all-lover, and the “newer” Zeus as a deity overflowing with lust. Mind you, in Ancient Greece love and sex were still mixed together (virginity being seen as refusing all love, and chaste lovers being unusual couples) but the Greeks still had a clear way of dividing sexuality as driven by love, from sexuality as driven by pure physical desire.

Which does tie into...

5) My weird Greek wedding

Greeks had a different conception of marriage.

Now, I am not adding as a “solid proof” that Zeus was better than what you think, or that him cheating on Hera was a socially accepted thing in any way. One must point out that the laws and society of Ancient Greeks didn’t actually fit their own myths - such as how Greek mythology presents strong, autonomous, “feminist” goddesses when in real life being a woman in Ancient Greece sucked. The Greeks themselves recognized that the gods, due to their inhuman and superior nature, were allowed things forbidden to mankind (for example incest was perfectly allowed and normal among gods, but sternly forbidden among humans - this topic had been discussed at length by the Greeks themselves). But... to take a peek into the society and the social norms of Ancient Greece does allow one to understand better the myths, by having a different light shine onto the legends.

And the reason Zeus’ love life became so debordant (and why in general gods are known to have what we call today “affars”) is because Greek marriage was much more... permissive than our modern-day marriage. But just for men. Women were sworn to complete and utter fidelity and were owned by their husband or consort - they had no way of sleeping with anyone else. HOWEVER... men were allowed to sleep with women other than their wives in given conditions. Don’t understand me wrong: unfaithfulness was seen as a crime by Greek law, and a husband cheating on his wife was to be punished. But the law also allowed the husband to have a legal sex with other women outside of marriage without suffering any kind of punishment. It was the “Pallakai/Hetairai/Gynaekes” system. A man had to marry to a wife, and they could only have one wife to which they were to be faithful (they were the “gynaekes”). The wife was the “guardian of the house” and the keeper of the man’s home, and she was the one supposed to bear the man’s children, as well as the “tool” through which legitimate succession took place. She was a legal and domestic element. But a man was also allowed to have a “pallake”, that is to say a “concubine”. Pallakai were female slaves (either bought through the slave commerce, or taken back as war prisoners) that their master had sex with. Concubines were allowed for sex - but nothing more. They were sex slaves, but they were not supposed to take over the position of a wife. (In the legend of Agamemnon, Cassandra was a pallake/concubine, as opposed to Clytemnestra the wife). And third came the “hetairai”, the prostitutes, who were also legally allowed to have sex with married men in exchange for money.

So in conclusion, married men were allowed to have sex with prostitutes and concubines - as long as they did not made them fill a roll of “wife”. For example, while men were allowed to have pallakai, it was seen as of very poor taste to have your concubine live under the same roof as your wife (no need to tell you the “concubines” were usually found in noble ranks of the Greek society, among the rich and powerful). As it was said : “We have hetairai for pleasure, pallakai for the body’s daily needs, and gynaekes for the bearing of legitimate children and for the guardianship of our houses”. Three different types of sexual relationships allowed within a marriage, with three different purposes. To be crude: a commercial pleasure ; a living sex-toy ; and a legal wife.

Taking this into account, the many extra-marital relationships of Zeus (and other gods) can gain a bit more sense as, in the Greek mindset a married man is allowed to have sexual relationships with other women as long as 1) it is just casual, non-consequence sex and 2) the other women is of a lesser rank (prostitute or slave). If we try to transpose it to the world of the gods, it explains why the male gods are searching for pleasure among mortal women (by definition, “lesser women”, as humans are inferior to gods and would be a good equivalent of prostitutes/slaves to the “citizen”), but never marry any of them and stick to having one divine wife. But in return, applying such a view onto the myths (which again is not the “correct” one, but just another angle) also explains why Hera would become so furious and so mad at Zeus’ affairs - because 1) as said above, Zeus often deeply loved his mistresses, and seems to have treated them as more than just casual one-nights and 2) he had children with them, which is normally the “prerogative” of the wife. This all leads to a divine repetition of the “Cassandra/Clytemnestra” tragedy, when a wife becomes jealous of a concubine when the husband seems too much attached to her, to the point of almost replacing his wife with her.

Because that’s a last point I should add: wives could easily be replaced in Ancient Greece. Well “easy” might be a bit of a strong word, there were legal procedures to be undertaken and there was money to be exchanged, but the thing is that divorce was a normal and usual thing for the Ancient Greeks. And not just for the men! A man could dissolve his marriage and get rid of his wife - but the same way a wife could get rid of her husband and dissolve her marriage. It was all allowed - and in fact this is why Zeus had so many wives before Hera in such a quick succession (up to seven wives if we believe some interpretations of the poems!). This social consideration could also add another point of view on this set of myths - if you decide to have a “social reading” of them - by raising the question “Why doesn’t Zeus leave Hera?” or “Why doesn’t Hera leave Zeus?”. Of course there is an answer to be provided with the construction of the myth itself - they would have never left each other in mythology because they were a couple in religion and a myth of a separation would only have occured if suddenly religion changed and declared the two weren’t a couple anymore, which likely would have never happened... But since we talk here about interpretation of the myths, and “reinventing” the myths, this is a very legitimate question to ask, especially since people keep this very Christianized view of ancient wedding as a thing people are stuck in till death. It opens a lot of funny and fascinating reinterpretations of the Greek myths: try to imagine, why would Zeus not leave Hera when he left his two or six previous wifes, and that despite all the crap going on in their marriage? You can find a dozen of answers going in very different directions...

ADDENDUM: Gods are not characters

... but while I always encourage people to be creative with their reinterpretation of the Greek gods for FICTION, here we are talking about the ACTUAL god and mythical figure, and I have gone a bit too far. Because all these later considerations are actually treating Zeus as a character. It isn’t all wrong - especially since a good chunk of what we know about Greek mythology comes from literary works, so the gods we know are a third “fictional characters”/”literature characters”. But it is also forgetting that they are mythical figures, AND religious figures. You know, actual gods, of a religion, with rites and canons and theological debates ; and figures of myths, as in the equivalent of today’s folktales and fairytales. Archetypes. Stock figures. Metaphores. Allegories. Not entities supposed to have human-like psychology, not entities supposed to be treated as fictional characters of an author’s work ; and whose stories are not supposed to always be coherent or logical - as long as they are powerful and meaningful.

Yes there was a literary Zeus, akin to the various incarnations of Zeus we have in books today (and this is why we have different Zeus depending on the author - an Homeric Zeus, an Hesiodic Zeus...) ; but the religious and “truly mythical” Zeus of Antiquity was probably more akin to the folkloric/artistic/cultural figures we know today. The Grim Reaper, Father Time, Mother Nature, Jack Frost... Everybody knows who they are, what they look like, what they do, but nobody can give them a true “psychology” or will start saying “They’re like that because they had a bad childhood”. Books will give them backstories and personal traits and human depth - but you can’t call it the “true” incarnation of the entity. [Of course the analogy is a bit shaky because the texts of Homer and Hesiodic were heavily religious in nature, and so there is an effort to stick to an established belief and coherent canon - but we know that for later authors, religious authorities of Ancient Greece clearly considered some of their depictions of gods clear blasphemy.]

Note: I originally planned this post to be just one post, but as it turns out I have a LOT of things to say, so I better split my post into two to let you better appreciate the nuances of this debate.

Second note: Of course I do not tell you to believe me on everything. Remember I am just one person, with a knowledge maybe big but still limited. Always double-check, triple-check, go look for other sources - and if I make any mistake don’t hesitate to tell it to me! With such vast and complex topics one can easily get lost into details and forget the big picture ; or the opposite.

#greek mythology #greek myths #greek gods #zeus #hera #love in greek mythology #rape in greek mythology #ancient greece

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shimmerbeasts · 3 months

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IMMA CHEAT! Gives in cheat card that says one cheat per day

So, first off! Imma go with Vi. Its who I came to write with you at first when we first meet, and holy shit I haven't looked back for one second. I absolutely love getting to write with your Vi, how we did into who she is since the beginning. I've gotten to see you literally fly off in a jet with her, crafting her sass, her sarcasm, her brutal nature, all of it! I think one of my favorite things I've seen her is your epiphany that she is practically a chem-baroness in Stillwater which continues into Zaun and how Caitlyn is her unofficial deputy. I also love how you've taken so much with her and just created a beautiful, unique, dark version of Vi that is still a "good person" but filled with demons and struggles of her own!

I literally am amazed at how well Caitlyn and vi work together too, like her portrayal of yours works SO WELL with Caitlyn. they are both vastaya, both struggling with situations that are similar, they lean on each other. They are literally the bridge between the two worlds Caitlyn born in Piltover how embraces actions as a Zaunites, Vi who is a Zaunite who embraces the life as in Piltover. They are just two halves of a whole.

Her character and portrayal are so on point and you are my ultimate inspiration for me writing a Vi as well cause without you, I would have never tried and you encourage me so much just as I have encouraged you. I will never not love your Vi, I always want to write with her and enjoy your story with her!

AND THEN! drum rolls

Jinx!!! How can I not mention Jinx. She's so crucial in the development of my Caitlyn, same as Vi, and they are brilliant foils! like goddamn the whole 'she's replacing me' and we literally just kept tacking on more and more of how jinx sees her as a replacement.

But besides our interactions, I am absolutely in love with your darker version as well. For me, it FEELS like Jinx. Not the league version of this playful, silly, dumb blond feeling lunatic that just doesn't shit for giggles. While Your Jinx includes these little things like her playfulness and all, there is still this air of danger. And not just danger.

Intelligent Danger.

Your Jinx KNOWS How to scare people, she knows the power she holds. and she makes sure that everyone else knows it too. And just the depth of her instability and how it influences this intelligence danger too. Jinx isn't just some psychopath going about doing things cause she can; despite her instability it has a reason, a driven purpose, and she is literally Silco's legacy of monstrosity. But I still love how despite all of this, she isn't blanket "only chaos". There is her love for silco, her family unit, her strengths and qualities that bring about more to her! Like ssshit, I love how I can literally have this heart breaking for her despite her being an antagonist (same with Silco but we won't go there cause 2 is my limit XD). But just, omfg!

And I love our tragedy between the sisters. The two who want to help the other, but they cannot accept who they are now, they won't. And just this Greek tragedy design between the two that no matter what ,their story will be tragic and heartbreaking.

But seriously, I could talk about Vi and Jinx all day long but this is getting long and its going to be a text wall in a half on the dash.

Still… no regrets <3 I love ya ^_^

Alright, you little cheater. *laughs* I am gonna let it slide because it is you, Panda. ;)

I don't mind you talking about both Vi and Jinx because like you just stated, they played such a fundamental and deep role in shaping your Caitlyn. And to be honest, they are a bit of a packaged deal. If the writing goes well with one of them, there is a big chance that eventually, the other one shows up too.

I will never get tired of saying this but without you, Vi would not be who she is right now. Thank you for giving her a chance and most of all, thank you for showing such patience and enthusiasm as I slowly worked out the kinks concerning Vi. Without you and your interest in engaging with her on so many levels, I don't think Vi would have ever made the jump from secondary to primary muse. And I don't think she would have done it as quickly either.

I agree: For me realising Vi is the Chem-Baroness of Stillwater was such a huge moment, especially because I don't think anybody has ever done that concept before. Most people if they write darker Vi, lean more into her brutality and how dangerous Vander used to be. Meanwhile, I feel like my Chem-Baron girl basically took Vander's negotiation ability and twisted it up a bit. Maybe she even took some cues from Silco; though I bet she'd kill me if I ever insinuated this out loud.

To be honest, I do not think I had even planned for Vi to become this dark a character. What is even more impressive, is that despite her violence and dark twists, I can still say with confidence that she is the protagonist and deep down is a good person. I am so glad and happy, that you adore how dark and unique my version of Vi is.

I too will never get over how well they work together. It is honestly insane and borders a bit of a miracle. To be honest, from an outside perspective, you would think, Vi and Caitlyn came from the same writer. That is how much in sync they are and how similar they are in backstory and struggles. I think we had a very deep understanding of what both of us were going for and on top of that, we had an incredibly good read on the bond, we were trying to craft here. Furthermore, I think there is also a massive trust involved with us both. We trust the other's craft and imagination. We trust the other to take the lead once every while. Especially because we know we can always contact the other one if we reach a hiccup in the road.

Honestly, nothing shows that trust more than us starting with Babette's brothel and then out of nowhere jumping forward into post-canon and somehow understanding the dynamic so well that we can write it and you just feel the history behind Caitlyn and Vi. Which again is an insane feat in itself given that back then we had just met each other.

Your love and appreciation of Vi and how I wrote her means the world to me. I am so incredibly happy that you feel her character and portrayal are on point. I am so honoured that I gave you the courage to give Vi herself a try as a writer.

I really love that you were willing to give the Jinx/Caitlyn dynamic the same level of care you gave Vi/Caitlyn. I think we both realised how crucial that second dynamic is for both Caitlyn and Jinx's character. At the same time, we could have just assumed that we do not need to put in the same amount of work, given that it's an antagonistic dynamic. However, I love that we did not settle for mediocrity. I love that even though Jinx's gripe with Caitlyn boils down to "She is replacing me.", we actually really looked at the forms this replacement took and how Jinx's mental instability exasperated it. This resulted in one of the probably most nuanced antagonistic dynamics, I have ever written.

I am so happy and flattered that my Jinx feels like Jinx to you, even though she is much darker in nature. Obviously, compared to League Jinx, she is a lot darker, but I think she even tops Arcane Jinx in darkness to some extent. At the same time, I am glad that you feel I captured some aspects of League Jinx because I still wanted to honour where she came from and who she was originally as a character.

I really like that label of intelligent danger and the notion of Silco's legacy of monstrosity. Because that was what I was going for. I wanted, especially post-canon Jinx to feel like she was Silco's ideology and worldview given flesh. I remember Jason Spisak said in an interview that Jinx for Silco is the spirit of Zaun embodied in a daughter. And I think I took that and tried to push it to its most extreme conclusion. So, Jinx is not just embodying the spirit of Zaun. She embodies the monsters, which call this town their home.

And I love how this translated into an extremely dangerous individual. Like you said, Jinx knows how to scare people. She knows how dangerous she is and she makes it clear that people are not just aware of her danger, but also aware that she is aware of that fact. I am also really glad that Jinx does not feel like a blanket of "only chaos" and instead has all those nuances about her. It was really important for me that not only did her madness stay internally consistent, but also that she was more than just a mad girl. I also wanted her to be more than just Vi's sister or Silco's daughter. Sure, Jinx highly identifies herself with those two labels, but she also has a lot of traits and interests, which have nothing to do with either of those things. And I feel like those interests and traits are where Powder/Jinx the individual in a way shines through the most.

I agree. It honestly is what makes the dynamic between the sisters so special. They want to be sisters again, they want to be there for each other, but at the same time, not only can they not accept who the other one is now, but they also cannot give up who they are now. They have changed so much that they cannot go back anymore.

I never get tired of you spazzing over Jinx and Vi. You shouldn't have regrets concerning that wall of text. It is so wonderful to read. I love you too, friend. Keep being amazing.

#ferinehuntress #playground: meme #letter: ask #cat wrangler: out of character #positivity tea #things changed since you left: queue

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konigscrusade · 6 months

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Midnight Ocean Chapter 89 Notes

Please note that I've tried to provide content warnings for specific mentions or discussions of myths or topics that would generally be considered upsetting. But, in case, I'm going to reiterate some warnings here, because while I didn't expand on some of the topics in the actual chapter, I do so more in these notes.

Content Warnings: Ancient Greek mythology-typical bestiality, cannibalism, incest, abduction, sexual assault

“How much of eros consists only of this—this dancing around and around? How much of myth?” is a reference to Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson. To explain the whole thing, I would have to spend an hour, but a quote from the text is this: “For in this dance the people do not move. Desire moves. Eros is a verb.”

This is said in reference to a poem by Sappho:

He seems to me equal to gods that man who opposite you sits and listens close to your sweet speaking and lovely laughing—oh it puts the heart in my chest on wings for when I look at you, a moment, then no speaking is left in me no: tongue breaks, and thin fire is racing under skin and in eyes no sight and drumming fills ears and cold sweat holds me and shaking grips me all, greener than grass I am and dead—or almost I seem to me.

Part of Carson's examination of this poem is this:

We see clearly what shape desire has there: a three-point circuit is visible within Sappho’s mind. The man who listens closely is no sentimental cliché or rhetorical device. He is a cognitive and intentional necessity. Sappho perceives desire by identifying it as a three-part structure. We may, in the traditional terminology of erotic theorizing, refer to this structure as a love triangle and we may be tempted, with post-Romantic asperity, to dismiss it as a ruse. But the ruse of the triangle is not a trivial mental maneuver. We see in it the radical constitution of desire. For, where eros is lack, its activation calls for three structural components—lover, beloved and that which comes between them. They are three points of transformation on a circuit of possible relationship, electrified by desire so that they touch not touching. Conjoined they are held apart. The third component plays a paradoxical role for it both connects and separates, marking that two are not one, irradiating the absence whose presence is demanded by eros. When the circuit-points connect, perception leaps. And something becomes visible, on the triangular path where volts are moving, that would not be visible without the three-part structure. The difference between what is and what could be is visible. The ideal is projected on a screen of the actual, in a kind of stereoscopy. The man sits like a god, the poet almost dies: two poles of response within the same desiring mind. Triangulation makes both present at once by a shift of distance, replacing erotic action with a ruse of heart and language. For in this dance the people do not move. Desire moves. Eros is a verb.

I believe Hades Game shows us that shades have some level of control over their appearance, depending on their circumstances. For example, many of the shades we see have set appearances, in a sense. The mobs have appearances defined by the state of their soul/minds. Soul Catchers are a good example. You have a bunch of souls “congealed” together, and they come to share an appearance (bright pink butterflies).

Another example would be Achilles and Patroclus. They seem to be frozen in the appearance they bore when they died. This is shown by Patroclus still wearing Achilles’ armor, which he died in. This can also be seen in how they are almost see-through until they’re reunited, and then they are given more weight.

This, however, is countered by Theseus and Asterius. Asterius absolutely couldn’t have been wearing matching outfits with Theseus when he died. This is clearly something he’s gained since death, not something he died in. I also really doubt he looked as healthy as he does in death.

I believe that this shows shades can and do have control over their appearances, at least when they’re in their right minds/the soul is in good shape (perhaps it’s also a specific right reserved for shades in Elysium). It may not be as flexible as the gods, who can appear however they like as Aphrodite and Demeter state in a conversation together (thank you @CrowLady0_0 for finding this for me), but there’s some level of influence.

I can’t find it now, but I do believe it’s also true there were ancients who had different opinions about what a shade would look like, as Zag describes.

Now, as this relates to Medea: It’s unclear how old Medea was when she married Jason. It’s a question that has and will continue to haunt me. Medea must have been reasonably old when she passed away, but how old, and how her divine heritage might influence the length of her life and/or how old she actually appeared.

In the game, Achilles writes of Elysium: “Greatness is evaluated here, by several judges entrusted to consider the many cases the Master himself cannot see to personally.” I’m not sure if there’s other clarification about this, but I read it as a reference to the judges from mythology, who Medea mentions.

The judges were granted their station due to proving themselves honorable rulers in life, though like most things in Greek mythology, this can be sort of confusing and mixed up, mostly due to the question if Minos is one person or if there are multiple people named Minos lol. Minos is sometimes depicted as a really shitty dude and other times as a great king (though I’m not sure if this could just be explained by the usual extreme variations in Greek mythology).

Zag mentions Minos offending Poseidon. To properly explain this one… I will need to provide some warnings. The light version is this: Minos, King of Crete, asked Poseidon to send him a sign to help prove his right to be king or something along those lines. Poseidon sent a giant bull out of the sea. Minos first said he would sacrifice this bull to Poseidon, but then went back on his word, wanting to keep the bull for himself. This inspired Poseidon’s wrath.

(CW: ancient Greek mythology-typical bestiality) Minos was married to Pasiphaë (Medea’s aunt, sister of Aeëtes and Circe), so Poseidon cursed Pasiphaë to be… obsessed with the bull, let’s say. This led to the birth of the Minotaur, Asterius (so he’s technically Medea’s cousin, isn’t that fun?). (end of bestiality stuff)

(CW: cannibalism…) Anyway, Minos ordered Daedalus, the great inventor, to make a labyrinth to put Asterius in. Minos had this big conflict with Athens, the details of which don’t really matter at the moment, so he ordered Athens to send seven young men and seven young women to Crete to be sent into the labyrinth and, well, fed to Asterius. Thus Zagreus saying Asterius was a cannibal. Anyway, all of this ended when Theseus, Prince of Athens, offered to go into the labyrinth and succeeded in killing Asterius. (end of cannibalism stuff)

When Medea says “Even the gods’ kingdoms fall—the Progenitors’ to the Titans’, the Titans’ to the Olympians’” she’s referring to the generations of deities. “The Progenitors” here refers to the primordial gods who came and ruled first (ie. Uranus, Gaia, etc.). They birthed the Titans, who then overthrew them. Specifically, Uranus was overthrown by Cronus. The Titans then gave birth to the Olympians, and the Olympians overthrew them (Zeus overthrew Cronus).

Zag mentions shades drinking from the Lethe to be reincarnated, and to be clear, I think that may come from Virgil (in other words, this may be a Roman idea and not a Greek one, but I’m not sure). Medea is referencing the shades you fight in Elysium when she talks about those who drink from the Lethe and assist in defense.

From the Wiki:

The shades of the dead were required to drink the waters of the Lethe in order to forget their earthly life. In the Aeneid (VI.703-751), Virgil writes that it is only when the dead have had their memories erased by the Lethe that they may be reincarnated.

Circe was known for her powers of transformation. Medea is specifically referring to her transforming Odysseus’ men into pigs when they reached Circe’s island. Zagreus mentions her turning Scylla into, well, Scylla.

From an earlier chapter: Scylla was a beautiful nymph. The god Glaucus was in love with her, and Circe was in love with Glaucus. Jealous, Circe poured a potion into Scylla’s bath and she was transformed into a monster which is probably much more familiar to most people. This monstrous form of Scylla is the most famous one.

Idyia, the Seeing: Taking this straight from the wiki. “Her name means ‘the fair-faced’ or ‘the knowing one’ derived from the Greek word εἴδω (eídō) meaning ‘to see’ or ‘to know’.”

Perse, the Destroyer: Again, from the wiki. Her “name has been linked to … πέρθω (pérthō), ‘destroy’ or ‘slay’ or ‘plunder’.”

In relation to Idyia, Medea is saying, of course, that her name is directly related to this concept of “Sight.” With Perse, she’s saying that the “destruction” was wrought by her power.

A part of Helios’ power/mythology is that him, being the sun, can watch what’s happening below and thus knows a bunch of shit. He has the epithet Helios Panoptes, meaning "the all-seeing Sun".

(CW: the myth of Persephone’s abduction/sexual assault) This actually means he was the only one who witnessed Persephone’s abduction by Hades, while Hecate was the only one to hear her scream. And while Hecate helped Demeter, she didn’t fully know what happened, so Helios was the one to finally tell Demeter who took Persephone and where.

Flowers Medea mentions

Green-winged orchid: A flower found throughout Eurasia.

Snowdrop: A flower that’s thought to possibly be “moly.” (From a past chapter: Moly is an herb of note in Greek mythos. It’s described as growing from the ground where a giant’s blood/divine blood has fallen. Hermes gives it to Odysseus to protect him from Circe’s magic when he goes to her island.)

Golden pea: A pretty flower that can be a super, super mild poison.

Iris (grossheimii): A particular type of iris from the Caucasus mountains. Irises can also be mildly toxic.

Crocus: This flower, of course, is important in Greek mythology. Crocus was the name of a young man who was Hermes’ lover. During a game of discus, Hermes accidentally struck him in the head, mortally wounding him. Overcome with grief, he turned Crocus into a flower.

Fritillaria: Strange flowers that are known for smelling weird, if not gross, and for being used in traditional medicine. A lot of them are also extremely toxic, or at least parts of them, such as their bulbs, are.

Milkwort: A pretty little flower the ancient Greeks thought… increased milk production in cattle? Who knows.

Poppy: A flower with all sorts of medicinal uses, as most probably know. Their seeds contain codeine and morphine. Their association with Hypnos is due to their sedative effects.

Honeysuckle azalea: From wikipedia, “The nectar is toxic, containing the neurotoxin grayanotoxin; records of poisoning of people eating the honey date to the 4th century BC in Classical Greece.”