#also: tenant is great and you should definitely read it

[marybeatriceofmodena]

A'ight, what is it about Anne Brontë and Tenant of Wildfell Hall? I keep seeing stuff about how Anne is the unproblematic Brontë sister and that's what kept me away from her books lol

*kracks knuckles* All right. So, remember how the Brontë sisters wrote three novels simultaneously? Charlotte wrote The Professor, Emily wrote Wuthering Heights, and Anne wrote Agnes Grey. The two latter got picked up by publishers, but The Professor was rejected, so Charlotte finished up Jane Eyre and sent it to a publisher, who accepted it immediately and had it published before Wuthering Heights and Agnes Grey got printed. All three of them wrote under pen names (Charlotte was Currer Bell, Anne was Acton Bell, and Emily was Ellis Bell), because they knew their novels were, say, a little controversial, and that if it was known they were women, their characters would be judged and immediately associated to their works. So needless to say, they were VERY supportive of each other, because they knew no one else would. (Their father was also supportive, but they published their novels without telling him at first but once they did, he was very encouraging, thankfully.)

It's easy to see why Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights would be considered controversial in their day (they still kind of are today given the Discourse(tm), lol). Agnes Grey, while it didn't do as well as JE and WH, was criticized for being a little too... let's say, honest about a governess' day-to-day life, when Anne wrote it drawing from her own experiences as a governess. The thing with Anne is that people find her stuff a little moralizing, but it was in her best interest to present Agnes as virtuous given how she made little secret of how poorly governesses could be treated, since it wasn't that rare they'd be accused of profiting from the families they were employed by, when there were abuse cases more often than not.

Then The Tenant of Wildfell Hall came out, and that's when criticism started to fly. May Sinclair (an early 20th century suffragist) would later write that the scene where Helen (the main character of the novel) slams her door to her husband's face had a reveberation that was heard throughout England. It's the story (in case you don't mind getting spoiled for a 150-year-old book) of a lady who marries a Victorian fuckboy called Huntington, ends up in an abusive household where her only comfort is her son, and once she realizes that her husband is becoming a bad influence on her child, she leaves him and manages to hide in a house that her brother is willing to rent to her, while she tries to earn a small living by painting. And people lost their shit, because according to them, Helen was a bad woman for leaving her husband, even though she did it to, you know, get her son out of a toxic environment. If Charlotte criticized anything about the novel, it's that she thought some aspects of Huntington were depicted too graphically, but they mostly had to do with his alcoholism and his adultery (this is important: those critcisms have nothing to do with Helen, or how Tenant is shade thrown at Charlotte and Emily's works). That might have been because Anne got some inspiration for Huntington from Branwell, their brother, who was also an alcoholic and got fired from his job as a tutor for having an affair with the lady of the house. Charlotte was pretty fed up with Branwell at that point, and while Emily was the one who got along with him best, they had some pretty big fights because she was in no way a pushover (so the belief that Charlotte and Emily idolized Branwell while Anne was the only one who saw through his BS is also, incidentally, BS).

So, why did Charlotte stop Tenant from being re-printed after Anne's death? Simply put, the criticism against it was getting worse, and people were defaming Anne's character because of it. Charlotte had had her own share of troubles with Jane Eyre - she dedicated the second edition to William Makepeace Thackeray (of Vanity Fair and Barry Lyndon fame) because he was her favorite author, without knowing his wife was institutionalized after suffering from severe post-partum depression. And that led, of course, to people speculating that Jane Eyre was semi-autobiographical, and that Charlotte was Thackeray's mistress. (I mean, it *is* semi-autobiographical, but Thackeray had nothing to do with it.) So she was understandably a little on edge, and while she edited Agnes Grey for a reprinting after Anne's death (given there were a lot of spelling mistakes and the like in the first printing), she asked for Tenant to not be reprinted to protect her sister's memory.

So no, Charlotte did not block Tenant from being as well-known as Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre because she was "jealous", or because she was mad that Anne was "throwing shade" at her and at Emily. She was protecting her sister's reputation, because she wasn't even alive anymore to speak for herself and mount any kind of defense, and that was while Charlotte's own reputation was under fire, after she had lost the two people who had supported her the most - Emily died in 1848, and Anne in 1849. To try to pit these sisters against each other, when two of them died far too young and the surviving one had to pick up the pieces and defend them against public opinion - it is simply distasteful, and it needs to stop.

[kmgkmg]

EVERYTHING - LEE HEESEUNG

word count: 2.8k…

pairing: heeseung x gn!reader

synopsis: you are a freshly moved in tenant to a cheaply priced apartment, but is it too good to be true?

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, strangers-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers more of a miscommunication trope, college student!reader, neighbor!heeseung

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: for @dearhee!! hi, i was matched with you for the @kflixnet's exchange event! i'm a bit shy so i didn't message you, but i've enjoyed seeing your posts on my dash ^^ i hope you enjoy this short oneshot piece! the title is based off of everything by kehlani. i had a hard time choosing between her song and butterfly dream by khalil fong, also i did kinda get carried away and made you a fic playlist! and an older outdated playlist i made for heeseung a while back if you'd like to listen to it! sorry this author's note is so long omg.

Brown moving boxes cluttered your new living room. Sure, it looked a bit barren and depressing from the boxes and bubble-wrapped items lying around, but those would be dealt with right after you finished your coursework. Sitting down at the kitchen table you and Jungwon assembled just hours ago, your mouse hovered over the pause button of your laptop.  

You were attempting to finish the recorded lecture your professor posted yesterday. Latin American Politics seemed like a fascinating topics course to take, and to top it off, the professor had stellar reviews from classmates. Who would’ve known that you were getting yourself into the most intensive courses you’ve taken to date? The readings were interesting and you never had a problem completing them, but what drove you insane was the exams. Your professor would always include questions that would leave a lot up for interpretation, yet he would grade it seemingly randomly based on his mood.  The other half of the questions would require you to know a decent amount of outside information since he would ask questions that were never discussed in class or case studies, but would be relating to relevant precedents.

Something that was quickly driving you insane was your next door neighbor. You hadn’t had the chance to introduce yourself yet, but for almost the entire time you tried to watch the lecture, music could be heard through your shared wall. You thought the noise would subside if you waited long enough, but your patience finally met its limit when they turned up their music enough for you to feel the bass. 

This isn't how you imagined introducing yourself to your neighbors. You weren’t hoping to be best friends with them or anything, but you definitely didn’t think you’d be storming over to their doorstep at 11pm to complain. Still, it���s a weekday. How could they not have the common sense to be courteous of those who needed to wake up early in the morning?

Opening your door, you walked over and knocked three times on the door. A man with grayish blonde hair opened the door with a quizzical smile flashed towards you.

And maybe, no, definitely, his looks would’ve been more noticed by you on any other day. But you had an oral exam to finish polishing to present in front of your professor and classmates. 

“Can you lower your music please? I’m trying to study and it’s distracting,” You request, without paying much attention to your neighbor’s confusion gradually showing on his face. 

“I wasn’t playing any music though?” He innocently replies.

“For the past forty minutes I’ve listened to music from your side of the wall, don’t act innocent,” You groan. 

He smirked at you, “Sure, I can ‘turn it down’,” emphasizing the last part by using air quotes with his hands. 

“What do you mean with the air quotations?” You frown, imitating the air quotes he made moments ago. 

“Don’t you think you owe me a favor for turning down my music? I mean it is my apartment, I should be able to act how I want. Not my fault that the building’s walls are thin,” He shrugs. 

Of course, your neighbor is entitled. Just great. 

“You won’t turn it down? Okay, there’s an easy solution. What was the landlord’s number again? I think filing a noise complaint would make my problem solved real quick,” You answered, unlocking your phone screen and showing the dial pad screen to him.

His smirk fades, “Alright, alright, I’ll stop playing my music and singing,” taking your phone and typing a number onto it, “here’s my number.” He extended his hand to you with your phone placed on his palm. 

You snatched your phone back, narrowing your eyes at him. “Why give me your number? So you can bother me through texts and phone calls instead?” You scoff, already heading back to your apartment next door. 

“You can message me instead of our landlord when I make noise again,” He waves, before slamming his door behind you. 

Asshole.

One thing you absolutely hated was hot weather. Without the A/C on in the middle of today, a day that was record-breakingly hot, you felt certain you would melt any minute now. Your landlord sent out an email to all of the tenants in the morning explaining that the A/C broke and would probably be repaired by tonight. You didn’t need her email to wake you up though. You were already awake, sweating profusely. The comforter had long been thrown to the floor. You stumbled sleepily to your thermostat which read as 100°F/38°C. Outside it was a bit cooler, but being outside only exposed you to the blazing sun. It was truly choosing the lesser of two evils. 

What made the day even worse is that you ran into your annoying neighbor, whose name you learned is Heeseung, as you went outside to make a quick run to buy some cold snacks. It did make it slightly better when he was covered in as much, if not more sweat than you. You couldn’t revel in his misfortune for too long though. He miraculously managed to trip over his doormat, falling onto you. Both of you scowled at each other while childishly wiping each other’s germs off yourselves. 

He hadn’t played his music anymore since the day you confronted him, but he did sing nearly everyday. If you weren’t studying, you couldn’t help admiring how talented he was. His vocals sounded like they came straight from a CD. But your appreciation for his talent never lasted long, since he always had an intuitive sense to bother you. 

Y/N, I sound good, don’t I?

How would you feel if I serenaded you sometime?

Don’t you think a guy who can sing is sooooooo hot?

Have any song requests Y/N?

His texts immediately removed any hint of charisma his music might’ve given him. Heeseung knew that his texts drove you insane, and if you were just an ounce less nice than you were, he would’ve been blocked a long time ago. Still, he had texted you about a week ago informing you he’d be redoing the foam sound panels he installed a couple years back in order to hopefully be more soundproof for your sake. While you felt relieved that you would finally have some peace and quiet after weeks of living with his incessant noise, it was bittersweet. You had grown used to his singing, occasionally singing along to the songs you knew. Although, it didn’t change the fact that he was still arrogant as ever whenever he interacted with you. 

Snapping out of your thoughts about Heeseung, the elevator doors opened on your floor. You looked down into the plastic bag of goods you got from the convenience store and sighed disappointedly at the distorted shape of the ice cream you bought. 

“Sorry if the phone was cut out, I was in the elevator. But Jake, I’m going to die in this heat!” You whined through the phone, searching your pockets with your free hand for your keys. 

“Why don’t you just come over to my place then?” He offers generously.

“That would give me the perfect excuse to see Layla…” You trail off, tempted by your friend’s invitation. 

“See, Y/N just come over and we can eat some ice cream to cool down,” Jake persuades you further. 

“You know, I actually got ice cream and other stuff and I’m pretty sure it melted on impact the moment I stepped into this damn complex,” You reveal, lightening up at the sound of Jake’s laughter. 

You finally found your keys and unlocked your door, noticing the fan by your door. There was a Post-It note attached to it: You seemed to need it more than me - Seung. He was definitely sweating more than you earlier, so why would he give his fan to you?

“Jake, my annoying neighbor just left me a really nice fan to use?” You tell him, still glancing over the note. All of a sudden? For no reason? Your suspicions grew as they usually did, sure that he must have an ulterior motive. Nevertheless, you carried the fan and your melted snacks into your apartment. 

“You mean the neighbor with the angelic singing voice?” Jake asks to confirm he was thinking about the same neighbor. 

You open your fridge, placing each item in their designated spot, “You heard him one time, Jake.”

“One time was enough, Y/N. Dude’s got the voice of an angel for real,” Jake stands his ground. 

Rolling your eyes, you take out the semi-frozen pineapple juice you put in the freezer hours ago. The original plan was to drink it for yourself, but it couldn’t stop bothering you that Heeseung had seemingly been nice for no reason. The fan he gave you blew cold air and if you wanted it to be even colder you could add cold water or ice to a compartment. It was expensive, you could tell from the look of it alone. Also, you did happen to browse for fans while you were waiting in line at the convenience store. Was the fan in front of you the one you considered buying? That’s not important right now…

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice snaps you away from your thoughts. 

“Sorry, give me a sec,” You grabbed the plastic bag on the counter and added the frozen pineapple juice and gummies to it. It’s not equivalent to his fan, but at least it’s something. 

You reopened your door, preparing to hang the bag on his door handle and go back to your conversation. What you didn’t expect was Heeseung to be walking in the hallway, humming a song while twirling his keys with one hand and carrying takeout in the other. He caught you in the middle of what was supposed to be a discrete delivery, raising his eyebrow in amusement. 

“And what do I owe the pleasure, Y/N L/N?” He moseyed over to you, flashing one of his infamous smiles at you. 

“I just left some things in the bag since you gave me that fan. I appreciate it, but um, if you don’t want the snacks since you just got food, I can grab it later,” You mumbled, trying to scurry back into your apartment since Jake was definitely going to tease you about any interaction you had with Heeseung. 

“Wait, is that the angelic neighbor, Y/N?” Jake’s voice practically booms from your phone. You must’ve accidentally pressed the speaker button. Heeseung’s smile only grows wider as he looks at your phone, with you being completely mortified and hanging up on your best friend. 

“Angelic neighbor, huh?” 

“Don’t let it get to your head, Heeseung. That’s just my friend’s nickname for you,” You attempt to crush anything he was imagining, matching his cheeky energy. 

“Aw, so you talk about me that much? I’m flattered, really,” He places a hand on his heart, closing his eyes in a feigned earnest expression. 

“He heard you singing one time, Heeseung. Then, I mean I might’ve told him you were always singing with that flawless voice of yours, but that was it really,” You rambled, not thinking much about the words that were coming out of your mouth. 

“Flawless voice…” He repeats, turning shy at the surprise compliment you gave. 

You were completely unaware of what you said, still trying to make your way back to your apartment. 

“Anyways, if you don’t have anything else to say I’m going to head back into my place…” You point with your thumb to your door, confused as to why he suddenly turned so quiet. 

“Thank you.” 

Now it was your turn to be surprised, “For what?”

“I’ve been going to all these auditions but keep getting rejected. Each place I go nitpicks my technique, but you called my voice flawless. I guess I really needed to hear that right now,” Heeseung explains, now fidgeting with his keys. 

The puzzle pieces started falling into place, “So that’s why you’re always singing?”

He nodded in response, “The first day you came over to my door, I was practicing for a callback the following morning. I knew that we were expecting a new tenant and sure, I heard you moving things in, but moving in took me like three days. The last time someone new moved in was me, which was two years ago. So, I just assumed that you would still be moving in. It didn’t occur to me that you could’ve moved all your stuff in one day. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I was making that much noise that night, I didn’t know you were all moved in yet.”

His sincere apology surprised you for the second time, “I’m sorry, too. I’m a law school student and I was prepping for an exam that determined a huge part of my grade. I can get a bit sensitive to sounds when I’m studying for exams,” You apologized back. 

Heeseung’s fingers stopped fidgeting with his keys as his expression softened, “Thank you for the snacks, I’ll enjoy them, Y/N.”

The warmth in his voice as he said your name made you flustered, used to him only saying your name in a teasing tone, “Y-Yeah, no problem. Thanks for the fan, I’ll use it well.”

“Oh, before I forget, I was going to drop off one of these sandwiches by the fan if you weren’t home yet,” He reaches into his takeout bag and hands you a sandwich. 

Today must be the day he decided to endlessly surprise you since he handed you your regular order from the local deli, “How’d you know my order…?”

“About a week ago, you made an UberEats and the delivery person knocked on my door first,” He nonchalantly explained. 

“Ah, I see. But why are you being so nice to me? I mean it’s a complete 180 from this morning,” You question him, still suspicious of his kindness. 

“I just woke up when I tripped into you earlier. Also, I absolutely hate hot weather so I would’ve made that face if I bumped into anyone,” Heeseung answers, “I hope that we can get along from now on.”

You nod in agreement and thank him for the fan and sandwich once again before parting. 

Finally back in your apartment, you FaceTimed Jake only to be met with the faces of both him and Jungwon. 

“Tell us everything!” 

Months had passed since Heeseung and you finally cleared up your misunderstandings. Your once sour relationship with him had turned into a strong friendship, spending most of each other’s free time with each other. 

His love as a friend was anything but conventional. He knew all of your details, from the first time you officially hung out and watched the newest John Wick movie to the time when you went to a dog cafe together, he was always attentive to you and your interests. You were equally attentive to him, recommending songs that would suit his voice, or sending videos about fishing since it was his hobby. Jake had grown closer to Heeseung as well, reporting back to Jungwon each time you and Heeseung would gush about each other. 

It was obvious to everyone that you loved each other. Well, obvious to everyone but the two of you. That was, until one fateful summer night spent on the apartment’s rooftop with each other. You were watching a fireworks show in the distance, enamored with the various colors filling the dark night sky. 

“Isn’t it stunning, Seung?” You exclaimed happily, not breaking your attention from the fireworks in front of you. 

He wasn’t looking at the fireworks though. His eyes were fixed on you beside him, taking in everything you are, “Yeah, absolutely stunning.”

You turned towards him, only to be met with his unwavering gaze, “Heeseung?”

He softly led you to the table and chairs on the rooftop, hinting that he wanted to sit down next to you. You followed him, picking up when he wanted to say something.

After a deep breath in Heeseung began, “Y/N, I love the way you teach me about things I never would have thought to learn about. I love the way you listen to my concerns and nonsensical excited rants about my favorite shows or album releases. I love your extrovertedness and willingness to help those around you. I love your laugh. I love you.”

“Heeseung, I love you too,” You reply, unable to properly formulate all the reasons why you loved him. If you started listing the reasons why you loved him, you feared you would never stop. 

But your confession back was enough for him to shine brighter than any of the fireworks you watched before, “Really?”

You smile at him, causing him to envelop you in a hug. 

Who would’ve thought that your noisy neighbor all those months ago would end up being the person you loved?

[keire-ke]

Three Body Problem/Dark Forest

I’ve only read the first two so far, and overall I really enjoyed both (with some caveats)! I have it on good authority the third one goes off the rails, but I’ll report back on this one :P Thus far they were very enjoyable as sci-fi epics, TBP takes place in more-or-less now, DF spans centuries, the worldbuilding is great, the ideas it has are very cool and the prose is so good.

That said, they are immensely frustrating, too, in very particular ways (least among which is “wow, this was definitely written by a man”). TBP not so much, that’s just great, but the follow-up...

I’m putting it behind a cut, because spoilers (if you’re thinking of reading the books, avoid spoilers, the spiral they take you on is Something Else)

My particular point of frustration is in how these books are broadly speaking about the relationship between the collective and the individual, how one feeds into and affects the other, but the individuals are... Well, they have names, definitely, and also occupations. It’s less of a problem in TBP, which is very straightforward with the cause and effect, but in DF it rolls out into a whole sprawling... something.

Okay, so book one, Ye Wenjie is so disillusioned with humanity after living through the Chinese revolution and watching her father’s murder that she asks the aliens to come over and destroy it. Cool. There’s a whole organization dedicated to helping the aliens out, which she leads, but she has second thoughts after things start happening, all that.

In DF we get the very explicit consequences of the “humanity over humans” in the form of the history of the Great Ravine(? - not sure how it’s translated in English), and how that lead to a nigh-perfect society based on individual rights, whose only real problem was that they were too trusting and hopeful, to the point that older characters refer to them as children. Also cool. Yes, sometimes bright-eyed optimism will not save the day, which doesn’t make callous pessimism right. Humanity didn’t get to its darkest hour by being too lovey-dovey (though mistakes were made and hubris didn’t help). In the end the only future is one of cooperation and mutual respect.

So, the day is saved by a guy who only really wants to reunite with his family. Again, so far so cool. Humanity is made of humans, who may think of humanity in the abstract, but they are also creatures of the here and now and that’s what civilisation is and should be about. For better or for worse.

The problem is, the guy’s family is a cardboard cutout not only in the meta sense of having hardly any lines and existing mainly between scenes, oh no. That would be... disappointing, but also par the course for, hell, most of literature. No, instead the family starts when Luo imagines a perfect woman, who becomes real to him, to the point he has self-induced hallucinations about her being in the car and having conversations with him, and later uses the societal powers granted to him to get the police (his chief bodyguard with whom he has a reasonably compelling actual friendship) to find him a girl matching that exact description. Who is then lured in to his house under the pretense of working for him. Within a year or so they marry and have a child.

And then the epilogue concludes that humanity has problems with the Dark Forest metaphor because love is so important in human culture (it’s not as egregious as in Interstellar, don’t worry, it actually comes off quite well). Which...

But wouldn’t it be much stronger if they were both actual characters? If they met the normal way, if they fought and made up and had human interactions that weren’t limited to Luo thinking how perfectly in line with his fantasies his mail-order-imagination bride turned out?

That’s not even mentioning that the core tenant of the Dark Forest theory is the complete impossibility of communication between alien civilisations, when the whole entire series is predicated on perfect communication being not only possible, but pivotal from the point of first contact, but that doesn’t actually affect the plot all that much.

[justforbooks]

The literary landscape is strewn with signposts decrying the decay of print publication and robust readership. Can readers continue to flourish in the strange new world of new media? With this volume, Alan Jacobs enters the fray by examining the effect of this cultural climate on the task of reading. As a professor of English at Wheaton College, Jacobs is a vocational reader who has reflected on these issues carefully. With no traditional chapters, the book takes the form of an extended essay where each section or heading begins a new topic or idea. With this meandering format, each step further into the book develops an element of Jacobs's overall perspective on the task of reading.

Jacobs begins by pointing to the number of “devoted readers in America” and notes that there has been a “surprising uptick in the reading of literary fiction and other long-form works.” Contrary to the “lamentations of many contemporary Jeremiahs, the cause of reading is not a lost one by any means” (p. 5). However, many who share an enthusiasm for reading also lack confidence and “wonder whether they are reading well, with focus and attentiveness, with discretion and discernment” (p. 6). Jacobs explores the root of this anxiety by reviewing the main tenants of How to Read a Book, the enduringly popular guide for reading by Mortimer Adler. According to this approach, getting “the most” out of a book is the duty and obligation of a good reader. Reading, in other words, is fundamentally a “means of self-improvement” (p. 9). A characteristic example of this mindset is the “eat-your-vegetables lists of approved authoritative texts” in a given field that are endlessly (and usually annually) proliferated (p. 12).

Jacobs argues that this “strongly legislative tone is not ideally suited to today's habits of mind” (p. 8). Rather than pursing the didactic tact of telling us what to read, Jacobs seeks to describe how we read and presses the motivations for why we read. In stark contrast to duty-driven reading, the most prominent reason for reading in Jacobs's account is “that reading books can be intensely pleasurable” and that “reading is one of the great human delights” (p. 10). This type of reading is difficult because “a significant chunk” of the American reading public still “can't take its readerly pleasure straight but has to cut it with a sizable splash of duty” (p. 11). Jacobs seeks to articulate “a very different model of what reading can be all about” (p. 12).

His understanding of the task of reading forefronts a dual emphasis on reading for pleasure and reading at whim. These interlocking principles govern his remarks throughout and serve as the heart of Jacobs's contribution to this discussion. First, Jacobs seeks to convey his “commitment to one dominant, overarching, nearly definitive principle for reading: Read at Whim” (p. 15). He distinguishes between reading with “thoughtless, directionless preference that almost invariably leads to boredom or frustration or both,” which he calls “whim,” and reading based on the guidance of “self-knowledge,” which he characterizes as “Whim” (p. 41). The reader governed by the “sovereignty of Whim” is one who reads out of desire and delight rather than duty or perceived accomplishment.

Though “reading at whim” might sound purely capricious, Jacobs connects this element with the “pleasures of reading.” He warns at the beginning of the book that his reflections are not for those who dislike or feel indifferent to reading. Rather, they are for “those who have caught a glimpse of what reading can give-pleasure, wisdom, joy-even if that glimpse came long ago” (p. i). His paradigmatic suggestion: “Read what gives you delight-at least most of the time-and do so without shame” (p. 23). Though “reading for fun” or “reading for entertainment” is sometimes derided, words like “pleasure” and “joy” are “richer words, with a greater range of connotations” (p. 17). For Jacobs, “It should be normal for us to read what we want to read, to read what we truly enjoy reading” (p. 33). Jacobs avoids saying that “all reading is equally good, equally valuable” (p. 38). However, his “standard of readerly value” is not matched to the informative or beneficial nature of a given work. Instead he appeals to “the standard of the reader's own pleasure-a criterion that sounds more simple and straightforward than it is” (p. 38). There is nothing mechanical or arbitrary about the act of reading and the joy it can bring. People read for pleasure and are deeply affected by scanning their eyes over marks on a page, and “this is a mystery” (p. 33).

The power of these two elements (reading at whim and reading for pleasure) is that they can help guide us as we choose from the many options that are always on offer. For Jacobs, becoming a “self-guided” reader is a more laudable goal than mechanically following a prescribed path that allows us to “offload accountability for our reading” (p. 43). Rather, the goal should be an “informed consent to Whim's sovereignty-without a teacher to direct us” (p. 43). This is Jacobs's overriding concern, to help individuals mature into certain types of readers, namely, ones in tune with their own readerly habits and desires.

The follow-up concern Jacobs addresses is how one can maintain this type of love and practice of reading “in an age of distraction.” Interacting with several forms of recent technology (e-readers, social bookmarking, etc.), Jacobs considers the implications of reading various types of text in online platforms. He also analyzes the notion of distraction in general and the effect it has always had on readers. The temptation to “rotate through the possibilities for informational novelty” is acute, especially for a generation of people who are “very rarely without the option of going online” (p. 79). This situation threatens “to return us all to virtual babyhood” (p. 79), where overstimulation is a recurring reality. The siren song of the link will indeed be irresistible unless “we do some work to alter our habits” (p. 78).

Recognizing that the recent technological paradigm shift creates a nexus of perplexing issues, Jacobs nonetheless argues that it is unreasonable to render technology as “the enemy of reading” (p. 82). Rather, “it's at least possible for new technologies to be part of the solution instead of part of the problem” (p. 82). But for many, there's the rub: “It's not hard to come up with handy-dandy practical suggestions; what's hard is following them-or rather, even wanting to follow them. What's hard is imagining, fully and vividly, the good things that happen when we follow through” (p. 84). The ability to read devoid of distraction is painful to lose and “worth cultivating” (p. 86) because “raptness is deeply satisfying” (p. 86).

The value of hermeneutical reflection on reading is the opportunity for the bewildered reader to “develop strategies of discernment” (p. 111). The call to journey deeper into the world of books is calling, but “you just have to practice to hear it above all those other voices screaming for novelty” (p. 133). One simple method Jacobs suggests is the countercultural practice of reading slowly (pp. 67-68). If reading really is all about the uploading of information, then slow reading would be intolerably deficient. However, Jacobs intimates that there lurks a more excellent way. Aside from information technologies, at a deeper level internal distractions are unfailingly present, and “the spell of reading is always in danger of being broken” (p. 124). In order to experience the fullest reading experience, one has to possess a “deep solitude” that will often times need to be created “by force of will sharpened by habit” (p. 125).

Jacobs's prose surely ambles but never seems to ramble. Along the way, he entertains a delightful assortment of variegated asides, including discussion of the cognitive processes involved in the task of reading, the stunning plasticity of the brain, the lurid myth of multitasking, the odious art of marking up library books, the joy of “getting lost” in a good story, Machiavelli's reading habits, and Harold Bloom's disdain for the Harry Potter series. Though most readers will recognize that there are certainly other modes of reading that must be pursued at times (e.g., digesting dense theological tomes!), Jacobs makes a persuasive case that reading for pleasure should remain a live option in any discipline. There might also be room in this account for further considering the distorting effects that sin can unleash upon our readerly whims and desires (i.e., What should we do if the “joy” of reading that Whim brings us turns out to be Turkish delight?).

The book as a whole makes many compelling points and refreshingly celebrates the God-given gift of reading in an age where texts are ubiquitous but often neglected. As he warmly reminds us, “The books are waiting” (p. 25). His waits as well. He has given us a rumination on reading that is instructive while also itself a pleasure to read.

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Tweet from verified user Hank Green. (@/ hankGreen) on 1/26/24 reading: I think a harm of online activism is the "This Is Actually Easy" argument.

I've seen lots of folks indicate that a single billionaire could solve homelessness, or that there are 30x more houses than homeless people so we could just give them all houses.

These words are fantastic for activating people, but they are also lies.

The US government currently spends around 50B per year keeping people housed. States, of course, have their own budgets. If Bill Gates spent the same amount of money the US does just to keep people housed, he would be out of money in 3 years. I think that would be a great use of his money, but it would not be a permanent solution.

The statistics about there being more houses than homeless are just...fake. They rely on looking at extremely low estimates of homelessness (which are never used in any other context) and include normal vacancy (an apartment is counted as vacant even if it's only vacant for a month while the landlord is finding a new tenant.) In a country with 150,000,000 housing units, a 2% vacancy rate is three million units, which, yes, is greater than the homeless population. But a 2% vacancy rate is extremely low (and bad, because it means there's fewer available units than there are people looking to move, which drives the price of rent higher.)

Housing should not be an option in this country. It should be something we spend tons of money on. It should be a priority for every leader and every citizen. it should also be interfaced with in real, complex ways. And it should be remembered that the main way we solve this problem is Building More Housing, which I find a whole lot of my peers in seemingly progressive spaces Are Actually Opposed To.

Sometimes they are opposed to it because they've heard stats that the problem is simple and could be solved very easily if only we would just decide to solve it, which is Doing Real Damage. \b

By telling the simplest version of the story, you can get people riled up, but what do you do with that once they're riled up if they were riled up by lies?

There are only two paths:

Tell them the truth...that everything they've been told is actually a lie and that the problem is actually hard. And, because the problem is both big and hard, tons of people are working very hard on it, and they should be grateful for (or even become) one of those people.

Keep lying until they are convinced that the problem does not exist because it is hard, it exists because people are evil.

Or, I guess, #3, people could just be angry and sad all the time, which is also not great for affecting real change.

I dunno...I'm aware that people aren't doing this because they want to create a problem, and often they believe the fake stats they are quoting, but I do no think it is doing more good than harm, and I would like to see folks doing less of it.

One thing that definitely does more good than harm is actually connecting to the complexity of an issue that is important to you. Do that...and see that there are many people working hard.

We do not have any big, easy problems. If we did, they'd be solved. I'm sorry, it's a bummer, but here we are. /End IDs]

https://x.com/hankgreen/status/1750973895824572763?s=46&t=WLunzndd86TYqPF2E217iQ

[monicasantanarealtor]

10 Ways to Make Sure You Get Your Security Deposit Back

Here’s some expert advice for making sure your security deposit money goes back into your wallet — where it belongs.

Start Planning When You Move In

Take precautions when you move in to save time (and money) when you move out. To avoid getting charged for damage, use removable poster putty or removable hooks to hang things, and use felt pads to protect wood floors from scratches.

Stay Organized

You know all of those rental-related documents you received when you moved in? Make sure they get read thoroughly and keep all of them in one place. Research the proper procedures for ending your rental agreement and comply with them.

Document Everything

Unfortunately, “fair wear and tear” is subjective. Some landlords stretch this phrase to the limit. Photograph everything in the rental property to serve as proof of the property’s condition.

While photo documentation is great, sometimes it’s not enough. Take a video walkthrough of the unit when you first move in and again when you move out.

If the property manager tries to keep your deposit, your video will serve as proof that you kept the rental in quality condition. It makes it very hard for them to argue with you. It can help save a few hundred dollars, and it only takes a few minutes.

Further, keep a record of each time you contacted your property manager to report maintenance issues. And whenever reporting maintenance requests, do so via email or through a reporting system that sends you a confirmation. This serves as proof for your record keeping.

Contact Your Landlord

Confirm how far in advance you need to alert your landlord about your move-out date. While your rental agreement may already note this, a quick conversation serves as both a helpful confirmation and a courtesy to your landlord.

Clean Thoroughly

In addition to the standard vacuuming and dusting, plan to do a serious deep clean if you want all of your deposit money back. This means behind and beneath appliances, plus details like light switches, door frames and more. And don’t forget to confirm whether your rental property is required to be professionally cleaned. If so, keep your service receipt as proof for your landlord.

Move Out on the Same Day as Your Roommates

If possible, coordinate a move-out day with your roommates. You don’t want to leave it up to your roommate to make sure the apartment is perfectly cleaned and ready for the next tenant. You also don’t want your roommates to move out before you, leaving any junk for you to clean up. Make it a team effort!

Do a Mock Inspection with Friends

Invite some trusted friends over and go through your move-out checklist together. You may be surprised by how many things you would have missed if you went through your checklist solo. It is suggested to mark every damage or deterioration, because some of them are the landlord’s responsibility, while others should be deducted from your deposit.

Once you know who’s responsible for what, you can fix any issue that occurred during your occupancy.

Have Your Landlord Do a Mock Inspection

Ask your landlord to do an unofficial inspection before your move-out date. This not only helps you assess what needs fixing but also allows both of you to get on the same page about what needs additional cleaning or repairs.

Give yourself a few days between this inspection and your move-out day so you have time to correct anything your landlord may be unhappy with.

Do Necessary Repairs

Small repairs like replacing light bulbs, filling nail holes and unclogging drains are small things that make a big difference. They’ll take you no more than an hour to complete, but they’ll raise the general condition of the property. The landlord will definitely appreciate the work done and will be less likely to claim deductions from the deposit. Additionally, painting a coat of the original paint color on any walls with scuffs or holes. Either going a DIY route for around $50 or hiring a service and asking for cheaper “white boxing” rates.

Depending on the condition of your walls, this could be more cost-effective than losing that money out of your deposit, especially if your rental is small. And if you don’t have the funds for either option? The next best thing I’ve seen is the Magic Eraser. It will be your BFF when it comes to getting rid of scuffs and marks.

Research Local Laws

It’s illegal in most states for a landlord to keep your security deposit without explanation, so research renter’s rights related to security deposits at the city, county, and state level. Good starting points for this information are the websites of your state’s attorney general and the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development. While your property manager should already be aware of these regulations, you should be too. Landlord-tenant laws exist to help you but be your own advocate.

Finally, while following these 10 suggestions will certainly go a long way, so does being nice. Patience and politeness are memorable qualities, especially if you live in a large apartment complex where plenty of other residents are moving out around the same time as you.

If thinking about the process of getting your security deposit back is daunting, rest assured that it doesn’t have to be. With some planning and clear, considerate communication, you’re well on your way to getting your hard-earned deposit money back into your hands.

[chadypm]

A guide to make sure your rental property is well managed

A guide to make sure your rental property is well managed

An expert's guide to managing rental property which others are not aware of. 

If you are reading this blog, there is a great chance that you are planning to buy a property or already have one and are willing to make money out of that. Indeed it is a challenging task to cope but at the same time, it is a rewarding investment in term of a short period with minimal risk involved. Lots of still find rental property management out of their syllabus and want to outsource this management work to professional hands. It is also quite possible that you have Airbnb, VRBO properties that you want to manage and generate handsome money as a second income which already lots of people are making as of now. Here is some step by step guide by real estate industry specialist to abide by and generate bucks:

 Furnish your property beforehand 

In order to attract tenets, the first prerequisite is to keep your property fully furnished beforehand so they can't say no to your offer. It is rightly said "first impression is the last impression", and you as an owner never want to mess up your deal in the very first instance.

Determine accurate pricing

It is something crucial and critical aspect of renting your property. People generally offer prices by comparing locality rates at a particular period, which you should avoid. Firstly figure out the existing price in your locality prefixed by the government. Secondly, assess some Economics of your tenant to reach the final concluding price.

Advertise your rental property 

Try to strategically advertise your property so that you hit to best possible tenets. It is generally assumed that advertising is something special to handle and only professionals existing in this arena can do that, that's another reason that owners prefer rental property management firms to assist them.

Rent it in correct hand

After your advertisement, congratulations your property became visible in eyes of various tenants and they want to rent it from you but be careful in this. Try to do some due diligence against whom you want to rent your property. Search their background and connect with someone who can give their reference genuinely.

Put everything in written

You own something precious in your hand and sometimes your property might be your saving. You don't want any legal proceedings against you on behalf of your any statement, so try to document each and every agreement beforehand as evidence for the courts.

Maintain your property properly

After all of these, you are not over yet! You have new responsibilities to look for, that is repair and maintenance of your property. This is something hectic task to deal with, but remember if you do well, there is a great chance that your tenant will renew the lease. 

Collect rents honestly

Now you have to collect your rent. Instead of waiting for credit messages, you should actively use online rent payment systems like Cozy and Tenantcloud as digital landlords. Tenants also prefer payment online. Try reminding them frequently and honestly about your payment. 

Doomsday: The Eviction

Eviction is characterized as a headache for the landlords which is certainly a true story. General evictions cost $2K+ or a time period of 4 weeks. Some landlords prefer cash for key strategy by reimbursing tenants to avoid a headache. But it will not be the case if you outsource management to a firm specialized in this. That's why…..

Outsourcing the management is key

If you earlier had have any experience in the management arena, you definitely know how much this task is rewarding but more demanding. Thus, landlords prefer such a critical task to us for managing their rental property and they can enjoy their life on vacations. We do all of the mentioned work diligently and professionally so as to bring smiles to the face of landlords. 

For a novice owner, rental property management is indeed mind boggling work. Maybe you want to dedicate your time to family and want to outsource this management to us. We are well versed in every nuance of rental property management and we make sure that our client's Cleaning, Laundry, Taxes, & Keys, will Not be their problem. 

DONE ✅

[retrievablememories]

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

--

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

--

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

--

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 

--

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

[itstimeforstarwars]

am beg to hear your thoughts and rambles on this please

I've put some of my thoughts here, but I Have So Many lmao. Disclaimer that I've only seen part of the Clone Wars series and that while I've read a lot of star wars comics, I certainly haven't read them all, so these are mostly Just My Thoughts on my made up Mandalorian school politics that I made up mostly for the Galidraan au.

(it's also really long so here's a readmore)

So I don't think that education past age 13 is mandated on Mandalore. For the most part, education past middle school has been handled by one's clan, through apprenticeships and adults handing down knowledge and stuff like that. Perhaps there are specialized schools for like space travel and stuff. I think even elementary schools were a hard fight to institute, especially among the more traditional clans, but I like to imagine that either a) at one point the True Mandalorians and the New Mandalorians were like "education of children is very important to both of us so we should make sure all children get educations" or b) Mand'alor Tarre Vizsla was like "Education is a core tenant of both Mandalorian culture and the Jedi culture I was raised in and so I personally am making sure all kids get educated k thx."

Education inequality is fairly rampant, as big powerful clans like Kryze or Vizsla can afford to send their children anywhere in the galaxy to get education, whereas your local Vhett dirt farmer will do what they can with the clan they have, so you might have great practical knowledge on how to deliver strill whelps and you can easily calculate how much space corn seed you need per space acre but you never had calculus and you don't know a lot about how to get legislation enacted and you definitely never got the Flying Spacecraft 101 class that all the rich kids got to have at age ten.

Then the New Mandalorians decide that Mandalore needs public schools beyond just the elementary schools. I think this happens before Satine Kryze gets into power, but she definitely goes absolutely fuckin ham on expanding education. It's very divisive at first--some farmer Houses think it's a ploy to convince all their kids to move into cities and industry, others think it's a great opportunity to give their kids a chance to achieve something more than space corn. Some warrior clans think this is an evil New Mando plot to turn all their kids into pacifists, while others are elated at the chance to let their kids learn things that would never be affordable otherwise, and an educated warrior is a better warrior. So now they want to get involved in the public schools.

So now we have (more) school politics, and the politics of education is always a divisive thing.

The thing is, the New Mandalorians don't have total control of Mandalorian politics until Satine Kryze. There are Factions. The big factions are the New Mandalorians, the True Mandalorians, and Death Watch, but there are also smaller factions, as there are in all communities. There are traditionalist clans that never remove their helmets and won't even give their names to strangers, there are industrialists who want to expand their business beyond the Mandalore system and want their kids to learn languages and laws that they couldn't even hope to comprehend, there are strong clans who argue that the clan system has always worked perfectly fine, and there are people who have lost their clan or who have been kicked out of their clan, who now have kids and have no idea how to even begin teaching them.

Can you ban all weapons from school when your student populace has a lot of members from a faction where the use and care of weapons is a literal tenant of their religion? Should you include a class on the use and care of weapons in such a case, or leave that to their clan? Should the children be able to keep their helmets on all day? What about in the case of it being religious? What about the rest of their armor--especially armor pieces that double as weapons? How much security should each school have, especially when Death Watch is in the area and has been known to kill children? Would having armed guards posted around the school endanger them more--or send a message that your school board doesn't want, that it's actually really dangerous to send your kid to school? Should the school provide free breakfast and lunch to children? Is that their job? Will the parents consider it an attempt to brainwash their children into being sympathetic to the ruling faction?

Despite being extremely divisive, as soon as the New Mandalorians implement schooling for teenagers, everyone else also immediately decides to implement schooling for teenagers. Implementation and effectiveness varies. I think areas with primarily True Mandalorian rule or clans that are more like Din Djarin's clan would have fewer public schools overall, and most of the families would stick to the traditional clan-based education. Death Watch ruled areas probably have schools that are basically military schools. I think New Mandalorian schools would focus a lot on business and politics--trying to get children to be a new generation of leaders, because a good economy is very important in keeping people peaceful. In places with New Mandalorian control, weapons are banned outright on premises, but with True Mandalorian schools, I think the use of weapons is banned, maybe you have to keep it in your locker or something, but I don't think school is a weapons-free zone.

After the Mandalorian Civil War, Satine Kryze takes power. The True Mandalorian faction is dead, and Death Watch is in hiding. And Satine Kryze goes ham on education. Everything she does is for Mandalore's children, of course she goes ham on education.

She builds schools everywhere. She enacts legislation to make sure that there are elementary schools and secondary schools enough to service all the children of Mandalore. Real "x amount of schools for every y amount of population" stuff.

All schools provide free meals for all children--this is her single most popular law for a populace just starting to recover from a civil war. So many people lost everything; making sure that their kids have two meals a day even when there's nothing in the pantry at home is worth whatever the hell these New Mandalorians are teaching in these schools.

She brings in several teachers from across the galaxy to help them build a curriculum, though most of the education stuff is still decided by Mandalorian locals. What do Mandalorian children need to know in order to thrive on any planet they set their boots to? Mandalore will need to trade with other planets, and they will need to know about these other planets to not be exploited in their current state of weakness. Mandalore has a seat in the Senate; its children need to know about who else has a seat, and what their priorities are, and whether or not those priorities will conflict with Mandalore's priorities. Mando'ade will need to learn new languages, and they will need to learn math and engineering and history and politics and civics and there is just so much to learn and their population has been reduced so drastically. There are a lot of people who would teach if only they were still alive, but they are not, so we hired advisors.

She doesn't even consider involving the EduCorps--that's a Jedi thing, and even Obi-Wan Kenobi is barely welcome on Mandalore after having helped end the Civil War.

Secondary education is still not mandatory, but more people than ever are taking advantage of it. In a generation's time, nearly everyone will be sending their kids to school for at least a bit--maybe just a few months when there's no harvesting to do, so they can learn basic engineering and shop skills, or sending the kids to school for as many hours as they can go when Mom is between jobs and the pantry's getting a little thin--and regardless of Satine's popularity with the interplanetary stuff, regardless of what's happening with the Senate, the one thing most people like about Satine is the schools.

Right up until children start getting poisoned.

[gay-snom]

contextualizing lwj’s coming to terms with his feelings subplot!

i wanna talk about the role of confucianism in this subplot because i think it’s something some western fans might not pick up on. basically, the sociopolitical climate of confucianism in his character arc, and a little bit about his interaction with the public image theme.

disclaimer: i’m not chinese but i do have a double minor in chinese and asian studies and have written a few papers on confucianism.

we’re gonna be talking about the novel bc i feel its a little more in-depth and nuanced than lwj’s “what is black, what is white” monologue in cql. namely the tension and misunderstanding in wwx’s first life and how lwj got his scars. i feel like it’s pretty well accepted that wwx made lwj reconsider his world view, so i’m just gonna expand on it. also i want to point out it's pretty unspoken in most of the text, but lwj is also affected by/used to explore the public image themes, as his image the is ideal confucian scholar.

confucianism is centered around the ideas of how to behave “good” in sociopolitical contexts. basically it boils down to a belief system on how society should be run. if everyone follows confucian beliefs, you will have an ideal society. the main text is the Analects, which you can read here. it’s been around for a few thousand years (like around 200 BCE ish), had a huge revival in the tang dynasty (618-907 CE). it was put on imperial exams, the emperor’s cabinet had confucian scholars, etc. this is just to say confucian values are important to historic society, especially upper-class scholars, which seems to be a role cultivators commonly fill in xianxia. here are some basic tenants:

being a gentleman/scholar/superior man (君子 jūn zǐ) : partly being learned in the arts, literature, music, poetry, etc., mostly behaving righteously and dutifully.

filial piety: usually described as obedience. it's not simply obeying everything elders tell you, it includes doing it with reverence and thankfulness for their sacrifices for you.

leading by example: if leaders/the government is righteous, the people will follow. lwj has his flock of juniors that are all strong cultivators and the lan sect is just generally known for being moral and good.

rites/rituals: a focus on politeness and holding proper ceremonies, sacrifices, and funerals

speech: there’s some great meta about the register he speaks in here, i just want to touch on think carefully before you speak, only speak sincerely, etc.

tldr; lwj is THE perfect gentleman (even his title contains the character suffix 君 -jūn, like lxc. which, while this character is not uncommon for cultivator titles, it wasn’t chosen carelessly either. also not to be confused with 尊 -zūn). seriously, look at almost all of book 10 and you'll see don't do/consume in excess, don't talk during meals, sit only when your mat is straight, etc.

okay, so Why is understanding his feelings for wwx so troublesome?

1.2 "They are few who, being filial and fraternal, are fond of offending against their superiors. There have been none, who, not liking to offend against their superiors, have been fond of stirring up confusion... Filial piety and fraternal submission! - are they not the root of all benevolent actions?"

in other words, people who are filial will never create political tension. so like, morally, wwx should be considered horrible person! he’s not only snubbed the jiang sect. he was a head disciple who undoubtedly had younger students looking up to him. and then he goes and stirs up some huge political issues! he is now a bad role model for the people below him and disrespected the people above him. lwj has an entire image to uphold, he has poured his entire life into following these rules and beliefs, and then wwx comes along. would continuing to be in wwx's life taint lwj? there are some contradicting teachings in regards to interacting with wwx:

15.4: "Do not take counsel with those who follow a different Way"

15.28: "When the multitude hates a person, you must examine them and judge for yourself. The same holds true for someone whom the multitude love."

15.36 "When it comes to being Good, defer to no one, not even your teacher."

this is part of the reason lwj had so much trouble accepting his feelings. he didn’t know how to handle this situation, making him appear distant during/directly after sunshot. if he judges wwx's intentions to be pure, it's then not wrong to be friendly with him. but wwx still is morally wrong by society's standards. now, lwj has to not only figure out his feelings, but also reconcile this with how he still thinks wwx is Not a bad person, despite everything. what if he does get "tainted" by wwx? will it hurt the reputation of his sect? that would be un-filial, right? he spent his whole life memorizing rules that are probably extremely similar to sections in the Analects, and now these mixed messages (coupled with the relatable gay panic) are overwhelming.

onto the next! there’s something unspoken in the scene where wwx discovers why lwj has the whip scars. as other posts have mentioned, lwj taking wwx back to the burial mounds and nursing him is high treason. however, this action is also extremely un-filial. also his entire image is built around being a perfect gentleman, if this were to get out to the public he would lose absolutely everything. he would be just as irreparable as wwx.

“I was worried if those from another sect found you first, WangJi would be considered your accomplice. The best scenario was his name being forever tainted, and the worst was his life being taken away right then. Thus, along with Uncle, we chose thirty three seniors who had always thought highly of WangJi... ”

there’s no way lwj didn’t know what would happen if he did this. obviously as lxc says, if this got out, he would lose basically his entire face. and even though lxc didn’t mention this, it would definitely lose a lot of face for the lan sect as well since lwj is so prominent. the decision about what elders to bring is also notable.

“...As if he knew all along he would be discovered by us, he said that there was nothing to explain, that this was it. Growing up, he had never talked back to Uncle, not even once. But for you, not only did WangJi talk back to him, he even met with his sword the cultivators from the Gusu Lan sect...”

so yeah, he obviously knew they would come for him and what the consequences would be. and he still talked back! that’s already not a good look for the lan sect. but attacking them? totally unforgivable! lwj gives up how he was raised and the importance of filial piety, what he has held on to until this major plot event. since it's basically the biggest "fuck you" to his uncle and his clan, this was not a decision he made lightly. lwj shows them he cares more about wwx and His Own ideas of right and wrong than the sect’s or society’s.

Wei WuXian dug his hands into his hair, “...I-I didn’t know... I really...”

when was the last time wwx was at a loss for words? wwx spends a few paragraphs after this lamenting how he hurt lwj, but he's not unaware of the gravity of what lwj did. it's an underlying assumption from being raised in the culture. i would argue his first instinct is "oh god he gave up what for me?" since those lamenting paragraphs are after lxc finishes speaking.

"But he said... that he could not say with certainty whether what you did was right or wrong..."

this is something thrown around a lot in the Analects, that not even confucius can say for sure what is right or wrong. what better way to show lwj is still a perfect confucian than have him paraphrase confucius himself?

“...WangJi was a model for the disciples when he was young, and a prominent cultivator when he grew up. In his whole life he had been honest and righteous and immaculate--you were the only mistake he made!”

here’s the confirmation that the world and even his family thinks of him as a perfect gentleman, the top tier of society, and it was all thrown away for wwx. this is just so heavy. the mistake thing? thats not only because lwj is fraternizing with an enemy. lxc and the rest of the sect who knew are terrified this will forever corrupt lwj personally, not just publicly. lwj was so devoted to believing this was the right thing to do he offered up everything he had. the gravity of this decision is insane. it’s very obvious that he loves wwx, it’s just that he struggles a lot internally to accept everything that is happening.

as for helping wwx leave after the massacre, is this gentleman-ly of lwj? was it actually in-line with his image? is it more honorable to save someone who is dying, at the cost of your own health, than to look away? isn't looking away a form of resentment? i wasn't able to find a specific passage about bystander-ness, but personally i think it qualifies as "bad intentions." there is also this passage for what it's worth, originally it was about government suppression:

12.19: "...What do you say to killing the unprincipled for the good of the principled?" Confucius replied, "...why should you use killing at all?..."

lwj is always more actions than words, and he was not fucking around. his core beliefs really haven't changed, and remain very strong throughout his life. he is still righteous enough to accept his punishment, graceful enough to search for wwx's body since there was no one else to do the funeral rites (10.22/10.15), caring enough to take in a-yuan, upright enough to still spend his years going where the chaos is.

just with this one action, the audience knows he has come to terms with realizing that authority isn't always just, and neither is the public opinion/opinion of other gentlemen. he has reconciled. this is him standing for what he believes is right. this is his devotion. this is his own choice. just. poetic cinema...

anyway that's it for my first meta post! i would love to hear your thoughts, feelings, opinions, discussions, other meta ideas, whatever! thank u for reading! <3

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary:  attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it? 

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook 

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary:  he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams.  Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies  everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

[thinkingoutlouddblog]

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

                                   ********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

[bellasbookclub]

How it all started: G and M's original "better books for Bella" DM conversation

[July 26th, 2022]

G: you know how Bella lists all her favorite books and authors in Midnight Sun? what books would you recommend Bella base her personality off of instead?

Like, what favorite books would you give Bella to make her more interesting or fit into the story better?

M: G my dear! Bella's booklist is very very classic lit you read in high school or universal children’s books. BUT in her defense she mentions a couple sci-fi authors.

full (700-word) conversation continues under the cut

I think she was sleeping on the pillars of YA lit. I have an affinity for Isobelle Carmody as an Aussie, I think Alyzon Whitestarr would be a VERY Bella book

I think her uninspired takes on Austen and Brontë are pretty on point for Bella. But frankly the ONLY Brontë I personally like is The Tenant of Wildfell Hall and that is NOT a Bella book at all. I think Wuthering and Eyre are on point for Bells, it's the red flags she loves

Honestly I think she would be way more into fantasy, I don't understand why she would embrace immortality and be so excited for it otherwise.

Like, maybe a little bit of my mans JRRT at least as a child. The Hobbit is GREAT for silly immortals. I could see her and Renee reading it. But like L J Covey in To All The Boys I think she should also be hugely into the Romance Genre.

I think P&P checks out as a Classique, and Jane Eyre and Wuthering, kind of set her up to be taken in by Edward's brand of Romance. But some funner ones like Alyzon (I wish) The Hobbit, hell, I'd love for some non-fiction too! Simone de Beauvoir has a truly moving recounting of watching her mother die

I think that would set up Bella's fear of growing old and dying (can't believe they never touched on the fact that Bella's paternal grandparents were so old and Charlie had to take care of them like???)

Also maybe SUPER controversial but I like to think she's a VC Andrews fan. Like Heaven definitely, maybe she wouldn't like what Neiderman has done since

G: M you psychic how did you know

this list is from yesterday

M: Shut uuuup this wavelength is strong and loud!!

G: I was mostly going through thinking of how I would de-genericize Bella’s list, because a big part of it truly reads like Stephenie Meyer just googled "classic books for girls" and ctrl+ved that

M: yeah but classic is classic for a reason. Also I thought Steph did an english course in college and was prolly using that

[Here they go on a tangent about Christian themes and racism in the Chronicles of Narnia and how as kids they both enjoyed the books despite rather than because of said stuff]

G: anyway you just know if Bella had based her entire identity on the du Maurier gothic instead of the Brontë gothic she would be so much sexier and more confident

M: She might have even had an iota of self-esteem!! du Maurier is for bad bitches

G: I think I'm gonna end up having to research Stephenie Meyer's Austen opinions…“Emma Woodhouse is so full of herself" is the biggest red flag like ok Bella we get it, you're ugly

M: Her opinion on Emma is so basic, like tell me you’re not like other girls without telling me you’re not like other girls. Her distaste of Emma reeks of jealousy. Maybe someone wanted to have confidence in herself. Too foreign for her to comprehend

G: EXACTLY

I'm gonna have to research whether that's just an in-universe Bella opinion or if Stephenie Meyer truly believes basic self-esteem is that much of a Sin, because Yikes. also, way to miss the entire very simple point of Emma

[August 1st, 2022]

G: M DID YOU KNOW I FOUND AN OLD STEPHENIE MEYER INTERVIEW WHERE SHE NEGS PERSUASION RIGHT ALONG WITH EMMA

sorry for the all caps I'm just mad. she says it's—get this—"too sad"

ma'am you wrote New Moon

M: THAT IS MY FAVE AUSTEN YOU DO NOT FUCK WITH PERSUASION ON MY WATCH

LIKE???? WHICH PROTAG ALSO HAS NO SELF ESTEEM ?? ANNE ELLIOT !!! She can't do this to me

"Persuasion is just so sad" .... haha ...

[Book-related conversation ends here]

Fun fact: let the record show that G and M also discussed their above defenses of Emma and Persuasion “live” on the podcast, but unfortunately the conversation had to be cut for time.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiv 

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: none to note

word count: 2.4k

g/n: Send me your thoughts?

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1​ @starbear019​​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

“Do you really have to leave me?” you drag the words out as you chew your dinner, one you insisted on having inside Ayoung’s apartment on her last day. You even add a cute little pout afterwards, hoping that Ayoung might reconsider her moving last minute. 

“_________, that was literally the third time you asked me tonight. One more and I think I might change my mind.” 

You sit up straighter, an expectant look on your face. “Really?” 

“I’m afraid not, __________. I’m even surprised you kept asking when you literally helped me pack the last of my stuff. Shouldn’t you have been doing the opposite if you wanted me to stay?” 

You let out a rather unattractive burp and a pretty loud one at that, then you sigh again for the nth time tonight, knowing it’s going to be a while before you find another neighbor that is as unbothered by your poor table etiquette as Ayoung. 

Speaking of neighbors, a coworker’s face pops into your mind and you’re suddenly reminded of your embarrassing encounter with Jungkook just the other day in the very corridor just a door away from where you were seated. “By the way...that guy you brought over the other day…” 

“Oh him?” 

You brace yourself for the bad news, tilting your head towards Ayoung while you wait for her response. “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll be moving in anytime soon.” 

“Oh,” comes your reply, shockingly nonchalant enough to mask the joy of not having Jungkook as your neighbor. Giddy, you prod her on, wanting to hear the rest of the story. “Shame though, he was such a hottie.” 

“How did you even meet him in the first place?” 

“Just last week I went to a cafe to study and partly cure a hangover from the previous night, I checked the post I uploaded for new possible tenants and Jungkook...that’s his name by the way...he was one of the first who sent a message about wanting to see the apartment in person, so we agreed to meet up on a later date.” Ayoung pauses for a moment, stacking a box on top of another. 

“But just a few moments later while I was reading, this boy came up to me and asked if I was...well me and he told me he was Jungkook. Eventually, he asked if I was free because he mentioned that he had nothing else to do that day and he would’ve appreciated it if he got to see the place and have a drink at the same time.” 

There’s a funny look on her face and you raise a brow questioningly. “Have you ever seen a man more attractive in just sweats?” Oh Christ. 

“I mean, most guys would look like a hobo in those, plus he’s probably dumb for just walking around in sweats with only 25 degrees outside but damn.... You know only truly hot men can pull off looks like that. And he surely was packing.” Shocked to the core, you stare at her with your mouth hanging open, not wanting to believe all of these were coming from your sweet sweet Ayoung. Especially not when they’re about Jungkook. 

“So I thought, why not right? I guess the hot chocolate I made wasn’t the only thing that was warm that night…” A suggestive smirk graces her lips and you scoot farther away from her, absolutely scandalized. 

Much to your chagrin, your mind betrays you with rather raunchy images. Goosebumps line the skin on your arms as the embarrassment comes back to you in waves. “Gosh Jungkook, that little fucker.” 

Ayoung creases her brows. “You know Jungkook?” 

Crap. Ayoung wasn’t supposed to end up knowing this. 

“Yeah I know him. Sort of.” 

“Oh, too bad. It would have been great if he moved in so you won’t have to deal with a total stranger for a neighbor. Where do you know Jungkook from?” 

You contemplate for a moment, wanting to weigh if it would be of any benefit having to tell the story of how you met Jungkook. Ultimately, you ended up sharing a brief background, missing out on a few vital points aka Jungkook being a total prick. 

You help Ayoung bring down the rest of her stuff to the lobby, wanting to see her off. “I wanted to bring you to your new apartment but I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, and being late won’t be a good record this early in my job.” 

“It’s alright, silly.” Ayoung leans in for a hug. “We’ll see each other again soon, yeah?” 

“You’re making it sound like I’m moving overseas, stop it!” 

You wait until she gets inside the cab she booked, waving at the car’s rear until it fully disappears from your sight. 

The next day you wake up freezing your ass off, even with you wrapped in a duvet burrito. You take a peek outside your window, grunting as a blanket of snow envelops everything in sight. Everything is white, and the gray trails on the road are the only thing that distinguishes the street from the sidewalk. 

You do your morning routine fairly quickly, spending the rest of your spare time watching people outside your window while you finish your coffee. As a motorbike moves along the length of the street in front of your building, you silently wish the driver a safe trip, hoping he or she didn’t have to use such a vehicle in this weather. 

You take another sip and Jimin instantly enters your scrambled thoughts, remembering how he mentioned he uses a scooter to and from work. There’s a side of you that is assured the Jimin is responsible enough to know how risky it is to use a scooter during the winter. 

The other half of your brain, though, isn’t convinced. Quickly, you set your mug aside, replacing it with your phone and dialing Jimin’s number. He answers after three rings. “_________?” 

“Hey Jimin, I know it’s too early for me to be calling you but I was wondering if you were going to use your scooter on your way to work today?” 

“I was--” 

“Because if you were planning to, don’t. It’s snowing really hard outside and I’m worried you’ll be taking your friend’s scooter on the slippery road….Would you mind if I’ll offer you a ride?” 

You know you were risking a lot, with your own car - your very own Camry which you don’t even trust. It has aged gracefully, and was clearly nearing its end but you knew four wheels was better than two in this snow. 

“I don’t...but I also wouldn’t want you to come all the way here to pick me up when I can just take the subway? Or the bus maybe…” 

“Would you rather pick one that asks for a fare or a free ride?” 

“You’re not exactly giving me a choice here, _________.”

“Great! ‘Cause I’m already on my way to pick you up.” 

“Thank you for the ride, sunbaenim.” Jungkook pulls on the handbrake before setting his hands on the Porsche’s steering wheel for the last time.

‘Someday’, he says to himself, someday he’ll get a car of his own. Someday. 

“Thank you for also letting me drive your car…” 

“She’s a beaut isn’t she?” the younger doctor nods, wanting to rub his palms over the dashboard in fascination, but then he wouldn’t have wanted the senior resident to think he was some sort of lunatic. 

Jungkook decides to keep his hands on his lap instead. 

“You live around the area?” 

“Yeah, just a few blocks from the garage…” 

“Really? Which apartment do you live in? I’m quite familiar with the area.” 

Jungkook is hesitant to mention the name of the building knowing that the apartment complex he stays at most likely has a reputation because it’s the cheapest he could find around the area. 

Before the intern opens his mouth to reply, Seokjin’s phone rings just on time, the sound startling the latter. He opens the car door and alights from the vehicle to get more reception. Jungkook grabs his bag from the back and follows after shortly. Seokjin points to his phone, mouthing that Jungkook doesn’t need to wait for him, so the intern bows to his senior in gratitude, before heading off to the main building. 

As he passes a vending machine, he remembers he wasn’t able to bring his jug with him today so he approaches the machine, scanning other options he could take with his water. He comes across a small carton of banana milk and a thought crosses his mind, a smirk playing on his lips as he adds the beverage to his purchase. 

Jungkook hurries to the on-call room, hoping his tiny plan will fall into place. 

“Thanks for the ride, ________. I owe you so much already. You’re too kind.” 

You wave Jimin off, expressing your worry and how you thought you wouldn’t be able to handle your conscience if you didn’t ask about his mode of transportation to work today. Jimin gives you a warm smile in return. 

“You’re a good friend, _________.” Jimin leans over the center console and gives you an awkward side hug, catching you completely off guard. 

“Woops! Sorry! I didn’t… wasn’t…” Jimin has his hands waving around in the air as he tries to apologize for hugging you out of the blue. “It’s fine, Jimin,” you laugh as you put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

Tilting your head outside, you tell him that you both should get going and that you’ll be heading to the toilet first to get changed. While Jimin heads to the surgery department, you make your way to the parking lot’s toilets, bumping into the one and only banana-milk-thief Jeon Jungkook. 

“Hi _________, good morning!” He chirps, the uncharacteristically wide smile on his face throwing you off for a moment. 

At least somebody woke up on the right side of the bed today. Jungkook chuckles, and you realize you weren’t supposed to say that out loud, but you’re somewhat proud that you did, making your sentiments towards the guy as clear as day. 

“Bit rich coming from you miss grumpypants.” 

Your mouth falls open. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, darling. See ya later....grumpy.” Before Jungkook leaves, he manages to give you a quick noogie, definitely messing up what’s left of the quick messy bun you made before leaving your apartment. 

Taking in a deep, long breath, you calm your nerves down, deciding today wasn’t going to be the day Jungkook was gonna get to you. 

After your brief encounter at the parking lot, Jungkook heads quickly to the on-call room and looks for a place inconspicuous but visible enough for you to see. He plucks a sticky note from a stack from the shelf just above the table and grabs his pen from his chest pocket. 

Jungkook folds the yellow square into half and writes your name on it, just in case nobody would dare take a carton of milk for someone named after a dwarf from Snow White.  He then sticks the note on the moist packaging, hopeful that the slight sheen of water will help stick the paper onto the carton.

Recognizing Jimin’s voice from the door, Jungkook quickly hides his peace offering behind the files on the table, and pretends he’s reading the patient’s charts before Jimin nears where he’s standing. You and Soomin enter the room shortly afterwards. 

“Just in time!” Namjoon says, adjusting the large frame of his glasses. “Right, as you may already know from the orientation, I’m Kim Namjoon, resident, and specializing in neuro. I’ll be guiding you all throughout admissions and reports this morning while I am waiting for my Chiari decompression scheduled in a few hours.” 

Namjoon gathers the rest of the surgical interns before proceeding to the wards to do rounds with the group. He partners with the head nurse and another doctor from the night shift, updating the patient’s condition before moving on to the others. 

As soon as his rounds are done, he leads the group back to the on-call room to brief the interns on using the EMR system to keep a patient’s chart updated at all times. To speed up the charting, he asks everyone to come up in pairs and update the patient records. 

True to the plan he’d come up with at the spur of the moment, Namjoon and the interns manage to get the job done quicker than expected. With the night shift’s updates already uploaded, the group disperses to carry out the orders and responsibilities.

Jimin, with his throat parched after having come up and down multiple flights of stairs, decides to return to the on-call room to get something to drink. He breathlessly pages Jungkook about it, telling him he’ll get back to his partner after drinking. 

He no longer waits for Jungkook’s okay, too thirsty to even think straight. As Jimin goes through his stuff, he realizes he must have forgotten his jug inside your car but having to call you about it would have been too bothersome for you and him both. 

There’s a water dispenser in the room but there are no cups or mugs free for him to use - and too unsanitary as well. Jimin searches the room in desperation and spots a carton of banana milk just behind some of the patient’s charts. 

He makes a grab for the small carton, checking if it’s got any owner. There’s none written on the carton and no note stuck to it to indicate that it belongs to someone. He spots Yoongi on his phone just by the other corner of the room and approaches the senior resident. 

“Excuse me, sunbaenim. Is this yours?” He points to the carton in his hands. Yoongi shakes his head no. “Any name written on it? Some note perhaps?” 

“I couldn't find any.” 

“Well, it’s yours then. All food on the table is communal unless it’s otherwise labeled.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders as he explains, giving Jimin a thumbs up afterwards. 

“Alright. Thanks sunbaenim.” 

Throat as dry as the Sahara, Jimin grabs the drink and punches the straw in as quickly as he could before finishing the drink in a few gulps. ‘Thank god for free banana milk.’ He thinks to himself before throwing the packaging away, now more energized than ever.

© joontier 2021

[sadclearance]

M!reader and hanta sero! toxic toxic manipulative reunion after breakup

how the #26 hero made headlines with his sex tape

pairing: hanta sero x male manipulative reader

summary: hanta sero and y/n meet again after their sex tape is leaked.

warning: sex tape (sero fucking you), manipulative and toxic behavior, implied/referenced past cheating, suicide attemptish, implied/referenced revenge porn

category: angst(?), fluff(?) idrk 

word count: 4300

"and then the fucking cashier asked to take a picture!" katsuki bakugo seethed. "i just wanted to get my damn groceries, but everyone's so damn nosy!"

"at least they asked?" mina ashido said, her voice pitched at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"don't even get me started on the fucking stalkers that don't ask," bakugo growled.

"i don't know how you can live like that," hanta sero laughed at bakugo's misery. "sounds terrible."

is this karma for being amused by bakugo's misfortunes?

the day immediately after, sero is scanning his items after getting everything he needs from the grocery store when the cashier stares at him with wide eyes, glancing between him and the phone in their hand.

"are you cellophane?"

is this what having fans feels like? it's kind of flattering but also annoying that he's being called his hero name during his off time.

"oh, yeah," sero responds with a light laugh, trying to stay polite.

he expects them to ask for a picture or maybe an autograph. what he doesn't expect is snickering.

he vaguely remembers how denki kaminari described being recognized in public for the first time. he was met with taunts from a group of students because a video of him short circuiting had just gone viral.

sero's quirk doesn't even have any drawbacks similar to short circuiting, so he can't think of a possible reason why his cashier would be laughing at him.

he ignores it and finishes checking out because he doesn't want to ask what's wrong with the other person.

when he gets back to his apartment complex, he checks his mail. there's a few bills and postcards from old friends.

the guy next to him bursts out laughing.

he closes his mailbox and gives him a questioning look. that just made it two people that have laughed at him in the past thirty minutes. what's going on?

"you're cellophane, right?"

"uh, yeah?" sero says, completely confused.

"just don't be too loud in this building," the guy says, apparently cracking himself up.

sero is still puzzled. he's been the perfect tenant. the loudest noise that's ever come from his apartment was the merciless explosions from bakugo directed toward kaminari after a particularly bad joke, but that happened two years ago. ever since then, the most that could be heard was maybe kaminari's laughter, but sero doubts that that was even that loud.

when he reaches his floor and opens the door of his apartment, he's greeted with his friends on the couch.

"oh, hey," sero says, shutting the front door with his foot and going toward the kitchen to start organizing his groceries. "i told you guys to start warning me before you come. do i have to start hiding my spare key?"

"we know what you're doing, sero," ashido frowns.

okay, something's up. the pink hero isn't using her normal teasing or upbeat tone, and the television isn't even on.

"what?" sero looks at her with the same expression he wore toward the guy who told him not to be too loud.

"you did this last time, bro," eijiro kirishima gives a disapproving look. "i thought we made it clear back then that we're here for you."

what is kirishima going on about? "last time"? well, sero knows what he's talking about because of the whole "here for you" part. of course he remembers. it was a prominent part of his life because it only happened once, during a time in his life he remembers too well.

see, sero is an easy-going guy. out of everybody in the group, he's probably the most stable.

i mean, ashido is a party animal that drags the group out to upbeat bars at least once a month even when she would do a hundred things she'd regret the next morning. it's not like they didn't like doing it, but she definitely needed supervision.

then, there's kaminari. he's an emotional mess, getting caught up in too many confusing flirty situations. each week, he would have a breakdown in the group chat. "so do you guys think me and x are really flirting? or is this like joke flirting?"

can't forget about kirishima. he's probably the second most stable, but he still has a lot of times where he needs reassurance and comfort.

last but definitely not least, bakugo--the emotionally constipated man who is only the tiniest bit better at communicating his emotions than he was in their first year together.

too long, didn't read: four out of five of the group needed someone to depend on at least once a month.

sero is the one person in their group that didn't necessarily need anybody. this isn't because he keeps shit to himself. he's just fortunate enough to not have any problems that aren't surface level. the most he has to deal with are minor inconveniences like running out of toilet paper, running into a villain on his off day, or getting puked on by ashido on a particularly wild night--nothing that emotionally tears him apart.

well, there was this one time about three years ago when he felt the worst that he ever had before. it was a terrible experience of heartbreak and self-hatred which is why he unfortunately remembers it so well. he kept it all to himself until his friends managed to eventually force it out of him, hence the "we're here for you".

but there is absolutely no reason for them to say "last time" as if it's happening again.

"what are you guys talking about? everyone's being so weird today."

"oh my god," kaminari's jaw falls. "do you seriously not know, or are you pretending like you're okay again?"

"not know what?" today is a day of questions, and he doesn't like it one bit.

"do you not check your fucking phone or something?" bakugo growls with annoyance and the slightest hint of shock. the slight gentleness of his volume gets sero incredibly worried.

"i haven't had time to. why? what's going on?"

the four look at each other, considering if they should enlighten sero on whatever it is.

when sero determines they're taking too long to decide, he takes out his phone from his pocket.

at first, he sees a bunch of text notifications from almost all of his old classmates and coworkers, all asking in various ways if he's okay.

he moves past them and searches up his hero name. what could be so bad that his friends expect him to go back to being as much of a concerning mess as he was the last time they spoke to him like this? he doubts that anything could make him as bad as he was after his breakup with his high school sweetheart.

oh... well, he can admit that seeing his name with a link from an adult video website being the top result and under "trending" doesn't make him feel that great, but he doesn't think that it's that bad.

"there's a video on pornhub with my name on it. is it like a really messed up cosplay of me or something?" sero asks, partially joking. "because if it is, i don't really care, guys. you don't have to worry about stuff like that. i know what it means to be known by the world, and that there are creeps out there that get off to--"

"shut the fuck up and watch the damn video," bakugo scowls.

"you want me to watch porn in front of you?" sero raises an eyebrow, slightly amused--a feeling that clearly isn't being reciprocated by any of the four that are staring at him.

"just watch it," kirishima sighs.

he clicks on it, even if he thinks it's a little weird that his friends want to watch him watch porn. maybe it's so bad that it's funny. he's expecting some weirdo to be wearing a poor version of his hero costume getting bukkaked or something weird like that.

all amusement leaves his body, and his confused smile drops.

it's not some weirdo wearing a knock off cellophane costume. he's greeted with a screen covered by him. wearing nothing.

it's not even the fact that his nude body is exposed on the internet to be shown to anybody and everybody that causes the pit in his stomach. it's because he recognizes the video. he knows what happens in it. he knows who's in it.

he doesn't stop watching as giggling from his phone fills the awkwardly silent room. soon enough, the nineteen year old sero in the video has a cock in his mouth, and his fingers are up the ass of the owner of said cock.

that's not even the worst part. the worst part is the next part, which is where sero from three years ago takes the camera, uses his quirk to tie his ex-love's wrists together, and fucks him while getting everything on camera, including a clear shot of his face.

he watches the entire thing, too frozen to do anything else.

in any other situation, his friends would be teasing the shit out of him. ashido would poke fun at how sero of all people made a sex tape, kaminari would make some stupid pun about how he made a sex tape, kirishima would try to be holding himself back from laughing at how sero used his quirk for such a purpose as tying his partner up for sex, and bakugo would probably call him something along the lines of "plain face cock-sucking bottom bitch", even though the next few scenes that follow show that he's clearly not the last part.

this isn't any other situation, though. this is a sex tape with the one person he fucked over so badly that he still stays up every night thinking about it--regretting it. sero thinks that the universe must think he's one big joke.

"sero?" kaminari asks when sero doesn't speak even after the video ends. it's an awkward situation, really, because as mentioned earlier, his friends just watched him watch himself suck a dick and then proceed to pound into the ass of their former classmate.

he's not nearly as mortified by that as he should be.

he's more mortified that this is trending on every single social platform, not even because he's a pro hero with the world currently looking at his naked body, but because he somehow managed to fuck up y/n's life more than he already had three years ago.

"i'm tired" is the excuse he decides on using as he walks toward his bedroom. "i'll talk to you guys later."

hesitantly, his friends show themselves out, which he's glad for because he really needs some time to process--and wallow--by himself.

sero lies in bed for a while, not sure what to do, before he finally pulls out his phone again and does something that only makes the pit of guilt in his stomach worsen.

DailyHero: Taping Hero: Cellophane and the Video That Everyone's Talking about

HeroWeekly: Cellophane--26th Ranking Hero, Everything We Know About His Video

HeroTribune: Cellophane's Shocking Video

it isn't just hero media networks that are talking about it, though.

CelebrityGossip: Plain Hero Plain No More

since when is he a celebrity? he would find that funny if he wasn't so abashed by today's events.

RecreationalChronicle: How the Tape Hero is Making HeadLines

it makes him slightly amused to think of how that's another one of the stupid puns kaminari would make if the situation wasn't so sensitive.

he clicks on the hero weekly one, which just so happens to be the number one news outlet for hero news. sero's kind of surprised that they said anything about it. they were known for keeping things profession based, and the title of the article frankly sounds like any other drama website. he might be flattered by hero weekly deeming his amateur sex tape important enough to dedicate a whole article to it if he wasn't so plagued with guilt still.

Cellophane--26th Ranking Hero, Everything We Know About His Video

Cellophane, real name Hanta Sero, is the 26th ranking hero in Japan today. This morning, an explicit video featuring him and another man was leaked onto the internet via an adult video website. The original source is unknown, but we can only assume that neither Cellophane or his featured partner was behind revealing this to the public eye.

From what we gather, this video was filmed roughly around or before the first assignment that brought Cellophane lots of recognition. By this time, he was nineteen years old and had graduated the prestigious U.A. Academy a year prior.

The identities in the video are very clear, as there are many clear shots of both participants' faces.

While the video itself is shocking to many, Cellophane's partner is what surprises us the most. Y/n L/n was a hero that graduated alongside Cellophane from U.A. Academy. He was famous for being so fresh out of high school, but after just one year of unbelievable success--around the same time the infamous video was recorded--he went completely off the grid. To this day, nobody has seen him since.

sero stops reading because he feels more shitty the more he reads. he knows what the article is talking about. y/n cut off almost everybody from u.a. after their breakup. his friends tried to assure him that it wasn't his fault, but it was an awful big coincidence that his abrupt disappearance happened the exact day of their breakup.

he wonders what y/n's up to nowadays. is he still in japan? is he still pursuing a heroic lifestyle? perhaps he's been doing what aizawa did. maybe he continues to fight crime, just minus the recognition and media time.

if y/n really is living a peaceful life right now, did sero just shatter that? the world had sort of forgotten he existed at all after a few months of his disappearance, so he probably would've gotten away with roaming the streets freely without being recognized. did sero just ruin that for him?

he needs to know. he needs to try to fix things, even if he knows he can't. he needs to... he needs to talk to him, even after all these years.

when sero asks kaminari to meet him alone, the electric hero's kind of nervous. last time, he was happy with the entirety of their friend group comforting him. why did he want some one-on-one time all of a sudden?

apparently, he was right to be nervous because what sero is asking of him is hard for him to do.

"hey," kaminari says with the best smile he can muster in his anxious state.

"hey," sero greets back, taking a sip of his hot coffee.

"thanks for buying," kaminari says, twirling the straw in his cup with his hand, the ice of the iced coffee moving and crashing together.

"no problem," sero nods.

"what's up?" kaminari asks, putting the tip of the straw that lays in between his fingers into his mouth to take a nice long taste of the sweet treat.

"i need to talk to y/n," sero says, looking down at the coffee between his two hands instead of up into kaminari's eyes.

"i--what?" kaminari asks, almost spitting out his drink.

"i know you still talk to him, and i know why you can't tell me how to find him, but--"

"sero," kaminari frowns at the frantic desperation in his friends voice. "it's not that i can't. i mean, i probably shouldn't, but... that's not why."

"then why?" sero's voice is pleading, but his eyes hold angry frustration.

"look, the thing is, i don't even talk to him that often," kaminari sighs. "we've talked maybe twice since you guys broke up. we're not the friends that we used to be before."

"i understand that there's boundaries that shouldn't be crossed, okay? believe me, i really do, but i really need a chance to talk to him again. if he tells me to go away, i swear i'll drop it. i'll leave him alone. please."

"i know, i know. i know you aren't a stalker ex. just..."

kaminari's lips tighten into a line, a habit he's picked up over the years whenever he's faced with any kind of decision--whether it be deciding what flavor of ice cream he should get, or, apparently, if he should let his best friend see the guy he broke the heart of.

"okay," kaminari hesitates.

"thank you! thank you thank you--"

"don't thank me yet," kaminari says with a weak shake of his head. "before you talk to him, i need you to know that he's not the same person you knew."

"i understand," sero nods. he doesn't expects his meeting with him to go well anyway. sure, he hopes it will, but he's mentally prepared himself for the worst outcome, which his brain has decided is for y/n to yell and start throwing things at him.

"i... i don't know how to put it, really, but the few times that we talked, he's sounded... weird. like creepy. i don't know, man," kaminari shudders at the thought, but sero's too caught up in his anxious excitement to really care.

"it's okay. i understand," sero repeats.

"if you're sure," kaminari pauses. "truth is, y/n wants to see you, too."

"really?" sero feels all too hopeful, and he can see the worry paint kaminari's face.

"i don't know if it's in a good way or not," kaminari says carefully. he doesn't want to hurt his friend, but he doesn't want to set him up for disappointment either.

"i'm not expecting anything," sero says, but his words aren't very convincing when there's a clear smile growing on his face.

"just be careful, bro." kaminari writes an address on a piece of paper.

"you don't have to worry about me," sero reassures with a smile.

as he wanders through the streets, he's shaky and nervous and scared and ecstatic and--just everything.

y/n wants to meet with him. the possibilities are endless, but at least he now knows he won't be turned away--at least not immediately.

he goes between riding in cabs to treading amongst the shadows on the street, changing whenever someone recognizes him from the trending news.

he endures long hours of stares and whispers, encouraging himself with the thought of being able to see y/n again soon, whether that be a good thing or not.

"fiftieth floor of paragon hotel..." sero mutters to himself as he presses on the cold metal button. lots of questions come to mind, like where will y/n be? he didn't get a room number with the address. how will y/n react? will he stay civil? will he give him a chance to explain himself? did he only want sero to come so he could vent out his anger and frustrations?

when the elevator doors open, he sees a single door.

he hesitantly turns the knob until he's hit with a cold breeze from the night air.

oh.

it's the roof.

his brain's new worst conclusion is that y/n's going to push him off, but he's more okay with that than he should be. he has a quirk that can save him even if that happens, and if anything, he thinks it'll help him feel a little less guilty about everything he's done to make y/n's life more shitty.

"y/n," he calls out softly when he sees y/n just standing there, looking up at the big white moon in the sky.

nothing's really changed. his appearance isn't much different from the last time they saw each other, and sero's still enamored by how the stars above could never compare to the bright light that is y/n.

but that's not something he should be thinking about right now. his head shouldn't be filled with hopeful thoughts.

the object of his love to this day turns around upon hearing his name.

"sero," he greets with a smile. "you made it."

"yeah. i did," sero hesitantly steps closer to y/n. "listen, y/n, i'm..."

fuck. why is that the only thing he can get out of his mouth? he has so much to say--he's been thinking about it every night for the past three years--every hour for the past few days. so why is his mind blank now of all times?

"how're things with... i can't even remember her name," y/n laughs a little, and sero frowns. he doesn't know why he's laughing about the mistake that's been haunting him forever, but he swallows down those feelings. people grieve differently, and if anybody had a right to how they react to that night, it's y/n.

"i'm sorry," sero finally manages out. "she... i haven't talked to her since then. she's not a part of my life."

a casual "weird" is y/n's only comment before he turns back to look at the moon.

"you know... you know she never meant anything, right? we were--"

"'we were drunk, and i was lonely, but that's not an excuse, but she meant nothing, and you're the only one i want'," y/n finishes for him.

sero's heart sinks. has he been playing that night over and over in his head, too? has it been hurting him all this time as well?

"i remember." y/n's smile is still there, albeit more grim, and it unsettles sero.

"yeah..." and sero doesn't know what else to say because apparently, after years of mulling it over in his head, he hasn't come up with anything better than his initial rambles of regret. though, he still has something else to apologize for-- "i'm sorry. i swear it wasn't me who leaked it. i deleted--or at least i thought i deleted my copy years ago. maybe i didn't do it right. i don't know. i can't imagine how hard this must be for you. god, i'm so sorry. i managed to ruin everything all over again a whole three--"

"sero," y/n interrupts, sitting on the low ledge, eyes still on the sky.

"yeah?" sero swallows thickly at how desperate he sounds. he hates how messy his words are--hates how they pour out sounding so slow and stupid.

"do you love me?" y/n asks.

"what?" sero completely blanks. did he hear him right?

"do you love me?" y/n repeats, fully turning his body to him.

"yes." he doesn't hesitate for even a second, even though he wonders why he's asking that question at such an inappropriate time, because he has no doubt in his mind that he loves y/n and has since the moment they met.

"i don't believe you," y/n smiles as he stands up on the platform.

"what are you doing?" sero asks obliviously.

"what i should have done all those years ago," y/n smiles big, and it scares sero a little. "if you really love me... then you would catch me."

sero barely has time to process what he said before y/n lets himself freefall backwards.

sero's brain hadn't even considered that this would be one of the possible outcomes.

"y/n!" sero screams as he runs toward the ledge. he panics as he watches y/n's body get smaller and smaller the more he falls. he rips off his civilian long sleeve, shoots out his tape to stick onto the floor, before throwing himself off to go after him.

he uses his free elbow to launch his tape at y/n, knowing his own body wouldn't be able to get to him fast enough.

he wants to let out a sigh of relief when he sees that y/n's dangling by the white line rather than falling, but he knows from past experience with hero work that they're not completely safe just yet.

pulling himself up with the clear film he had luckily had the brains to think of placing first, he makes it back onto the roof of the building, slowly pulling his other elbow to haul y/n's body up as well.

"are you fucking crazy?!" he raises his voice for the first time in a long time. he doesn't think he's ever felt this angry and frustrated and mortified in his entire life.

y/n doesn't bother unwrapping himself from the tape as he uses a hand to pull sero's face close, kissing him softly.

and sero can't help but melt, which is the opposite of what he should probably be doing. a simple kiss shouldn't be able to pacify him with a situation like this at hand, but it does.

"you love me," y/n smiles when he pulls away just enough to feel the harsh pants coming from sero--the result of both the terrifying moment he just had to experience and his reaction to kissing y/n again.

"i do," sero nods eagerly, and shit, those aren't the words that are supposed to leave his mouth right now. he's supposed to ask what the hell is wrong with y/n. he's supposed to ask why he would do that. he's supposed to curse and swear and--anything but act like it's all okay.

"you love me," y/n says again before pulling him in for another kiss.

when sero puts his arms around y/n's waist and pulls his body as close as possible to his, he feels the buzz of y/n's phone.

"do you--do you need to get that?" sero asks as he reluctantly pulls away, sounding like a whiny child.

"i'm sure it's nothing important," y/n says before throwing his phone off of the roof, and sero pulls him back hungrily, because as strange as that action was, sero can't bring himself to care when the love of his life is back in his arms after three long years.

[12:39am] reporter to y/n: i got myself a promotion! been an honor working with you. again, thank you so much for selling it to me.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

a/n;

i wrote part of this in may last year because i thought the title was funny then i didn't know how to end it but then i got this sero request so

not proofread but when is it ever

[letterstomilen]

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 2) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe  When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe’s unfortunate love life starts at the age of eight. He, of course, did not call it “love” when he’s eight. When he was eight, he plucked a couple of weeds and sunflowers from his neighbor’s garden before he went to the park and handed them over to a classmate he doesn’t remember the name of now.

Handed over is an understatement here, seeing that she fell over from him shoving the flowers towards her chest before declaring, “Please marry me!”

In hindsight, storming over with the delicacy of an elephant with two left feet was not the best idea. But as somebody who recently discovered that watermelons could not grow out of your stomach no matter what, he was not the brightest. (Lumine now would argue that this is still the case. Unfortunately.)

She, as all eight-year kids would when faced with a loud boy that shoved you to the ground, started bawling. It didn’t help that Childe wasn’t aware of the fact that some worm wriggled in with the weeds and sunflowers he uprooted, with said worm now wiggling on the glittery, cursive ‘i’ in ‘Magical’ on her t-shirt.

This promptly resulted in her mom heading over and a long talk over dinner that night on why you should not ask girls to just marry you at your age.

“So I can ask boys then, right?”

Pleased with the loophole he discovered at age eight, Childe toothily smiled at his mom, who sighed and shook your head.

“You can’t ask anybody to marry you when you’re eight. And please don’t throw flowers at them too.”

The stolen flowers resulted in him being on his neighbor’s blacklist for the next couple of years; this in itself was fine, seeing that Childe was always a bit of a troublemaker and it was bound to happen at some point. However, the crying girl left a big impression on him even as he got older.

It did help that the older he got, the more silver-tongued he became, but this resulted in short-term relationships and a famous incident that once got dubbed ‘Tartaglia’s Shakespearean Slipup.’ (It involved a drunk retelling of Macbeth, several dumb questions, and a shirt that could never get the stain washed off of it.)

So in short, Childe’s love life is, to put it bluntly, a travesty. It has been downhill ever since he was eight years old, and nearly two decades later, he’s sure that he finally hit rock bottom.

“Tonia,” he begins, wondering how his little sister could be so cute yet so cruel at the same time, “what did you not tell Zhongli?”

“Hmm… Oh, I didn’t tell him about your obsession with his channel!” And cue the self-satisfied smile before she took another sip of his coffee.

Oh lord, she learned it from him.

“Anything else?” he presses, wondering what kind of image he has of him now — definitely not a good one. No amount of smooth talking or knowledge about petrology could save him from his past mistakes. He’s sure that Zhongli would not take kindly to the plethora of times that his insobriety has made him infamous among certain groups of people.

And he’ll admit just to himself, he was wholly unprepared for this. He couldn’t even be lulled to sleep by his voice last night — which is unfortunate because the series where he discussed the inspiration behind Tao Yuanming’s work just came out and if there’s one thing Childe likes, it’s poetry — because he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that he knew who he was.

Except not as Childe. As Tartaglia, his younger sister clarified, ever so proud of herself that she taught somebody how to say his birth name correctly, never mind that it stumped even the most persistent of professors.

“Not really! He said he likes listening to me brag about my older brother! ‘Cause he’s an only child and everything. Actually… he mentioned that you’d like to hear your stories sometime. Sweet, right?”

“My stories,” Childe echoes slowly. “The ones I told you when you were a kid? The fairytale rip-offs?”

“Yup.”

“Including the one where the kids locked the evil queen up and used her Magic Mirror to cheat on their tests?”

Admittedly, he was a bit lazy with that one. But Tonia was just eight and Childe was half-awake, trying to remember the difference between Hudibrastic and hija. So, like any good literature major with a bone to pick with their academic advisor, he decided that he’d very subtly rehash Snow White and make it all about cheating. (On tests of course.)

“Yuup. They got in trouble, right?”

They didn’t, but his mom would have his head if he said otherwise, so he smiles at her, ruffles her hair, and says with the attitude of a picture-perfect older brother, “Of course. The evil queen immediately sent them to the dungeon. So don’t cheat, okay?”

She nods, rewarding her compliance with another sip of his coffee. The library is fairly close to their apartment, as all things in Liyue are. A tightly packed city by the sea where you were sure to know everything about your neighbor and their neighbor. Which meant that the tenants next door still remembered when Childe first moved in and spent a week high on ambien, only to invest his time in writing a paper about how Snowpiercer was the sequel to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. (When they spoke for the first time, they asked politely if he could please turn down the volume, because it was difficult to sleep when your neighbor watched the two movies consecutively with the volume all the way up at three in the morning, don’t you think?)

(The paper ended up being legible to only the most dedicated of readers anyways.)

Deciding that they’re an appropriate distance from the entrance of the library now, Tonia stops walking and drags her brother towards the benches. “Now, before I take you to meet Zhongli, I just want to ask you one thing.”

He looks at her expectantly, wondering if she’s going to ask if he remembers what Lumine said. Don’t embarrass yourself, don’t act shady, and before you do something—think ITWTWW? (A.K.A Is This What Tsaritsa Would Want? A joke that arose after a particularly hellish class last year after the professor’s attention towards Childe was a source of debate—did she hate him? Did she think of him as her son? Did he—a suggestion brought forth by Aether—remind her of annoying neighbors that’d spend all night partying? To this day, he still doesn’t know.)

“What is it?”

“Did you bring your library card?”

“Huh?”

It turns out, Childe learns five minutes later with relief that his long-forgotten library card was collecting dust in his wallet, that Zhongli has a limit on books he can check out because he’s always forgetting them. And his overdue fees are quite an impressive sum—both for a library volunteer and anybody that’s frequented a library for the past decade.

But to the library’s great relief, he’s only checking out books nobody has ever checked out in the past so by default they belong to him now. (No harm no foul—unless you’re the occasional poor individual that has to research an incredibly specific and niche topic only to find out that the book is not in the library at the moment.)

Tonia sounds immensely proud of herself as she informs him of this while they wait for him to finish help somebody find a book. Help is an understatement, Childe realizes, as he watches Zhongli talk, smiling as he ensnares the visitor in an answer to a question where “yes” or “no” would have sufficed.

It’s ridiculously cute. Really. Tonia seems used to this sight as she drags Childe closer to the two. Zhongli must’ve realized that he slipped into a tangent because he apologizes and points to the nonfiction section before opening his book once more.

“Oh… I forgot.” Tonia purses her lips the same way Lumine does as she sighs, lowering the hand that she was enthusiastically waving moments earlier.

“Hm?”

“He won’t notice us. Ah, Zhongli,” she says melodramatically while they watch him flip through pages in a book, her tone every bit the longing princess in books they poured over when she was younger. “Why can’t you see us? Isn’t my wonderful big brother enough to catch your attention?”

He’s very flattered. Really. He knows that compliment was partially influenced by letting her have a lion’s share of his drink and Lumine’s sarcasm, but he takes it in stride, squeezing her cheeks. Tonia rolls her eyes in response, and heads over to Zhongli, chatting him up quicker than Childe can respond.

“And this is my older brother,” she introduces, gesturing her hand towards Childe, who smiles brightly, hoping he looks every bit the composed person he doesn’t feel like right now.

Zhongli is just as charming in person and it doesn’t help that just the realization he’s standing right here makes Childe’s pulse race, contributing to his increasingly forced smile that he reserves for uncomfortable situations. Oblivious to that, Zhongli smiles at him—one that is ingrained in his memory from days of watching it on loop —and says, “You must be Tartaglia, right? Tonia told me a lot about you.”

Oh fuck. 

His first thought: of course she told him about him. He knew beforehand, the dread of being characterized through his sister’s dramatizations of Childe’s mistakes. It’s partially why he could only get up this morning through two cups of coffee and dunking his head in the freezer for several minutes.

But also his name— 

Childe’s torn between asking why the hell his sister told him his real name or excusing himself to go read a dictionary to cool his nerves. Even though he’s well aware most of his family calls him Tartaglia still—mainly his parents when he’s in trouble (which, to be fair, is most of the time)—most people in Liyue call him Childe for two reasons.

One, Tartaglia is a mouthful and two, after many questions about how his name was pronounced only to get it butchered on several occasions, he’s stopped. (Scaramouche, Tsaritsa, and Signora are the only ones who call him that at this point, really; but he’s convinced Scaramouche does it just to vex him.)

“Yes,” he chokes out. “That’s me. Tartaglia.”

Childe decides that if Zhongli would just say his name and nothing else, he would die happy. Which is a mortifying thought but maybe a little bit of an upgrade from falling asleep to listening him talk about rocks. Isn’t it?

“You can call him Childe,” Tonia offers. “My brother doesn’t like it when people call him Tartgalia.”

His mouth forms an ‘o’ out of realization and sheepishly says, “My deepest apologies, Childe.”

“N-no—” Childe starts, his sister’s expression burning into the back of his head. “It sounds really nice when you say it. Call me Tartaglia—anything you’d like, really.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” Tonia smiles mischievously, implying that she never forgot all along as she raises a finger to her chin in mock thought. “You watch his ASMR channel, don’t you?”

“You do?”

They both turn to Childe, who’s sure this is turning into an interrogation; their burning gazes, the expectant silence, and a question he’s reluctant to answer.

“Yeah. I’m a huge fan,” he confesses brightly. “My favorite series of yours is the petrology one. It felt really nostalgic.”

He never thought he’d remember high school clearly ever again, but the videos made his classes a little less lazy. And the heat of the sun on the back of his neck as he slept in class would follow, lulled to sleep by a lecture he couldn’t quite remember. But he recalled his friends’ amusement clearly when they asked how he managed to sleep nearly every class, only to get a cheeky smile as an answer.

“Is that so? May I interest you in some books then? There’s quite the collection here, although I’m not sure which would interest you the most then. Any preferences?”

Ohhh, his expectant look was so cute. But Tonia looks bored at the prospect, so he clears his throat instead.

“Actually, I came here to check out Legend of the Lone Sword so I could follow along with your newest video,” he finally says. “Could you show me where it is?”

“Hmm… We do have two copies but unfortunately both have been checked out. One has just been checked out by Xingqiu and the other… ah, it’s still at my house. We’re having difficulties with the video unfortunately because Venti said… now what did he say?” Zhongli asks himself, humming as he takes out his phone and reads out loud.

“’Find somebody that’s willing to record the video and help you set up b-c’… er, before Christ?”

“Because,” Childe clarifies.

“Thank you. ‘Because I can’t do it without laughing’,” he finishes before sighing. “Also several crying emojis followed by a wine emoji and a suggestion for me to find Diluc…? There are also several other texts that I would not be able to read out loud but that’s the gist of it. As soon as I manage to find somebody, I’ll be able to return the book so you can check it out. My apologies.”

Diluc? All Childe remembers about him is what Lumine once said about him.

‘I was convinced him and Kaeya hated each other until I found out they were siblings.” A pause. Then: ‘I’m still fairly sure they hate each other. They’re at each other’s throats a lot. Diluc more so.’

He had not considered him to be a rival in love. Granted — that’s limited information from several years ago but it’s not as if Childe knows that many people outside of his own department. But still. 

Eager to save any chance of a love life, Childe says, “Why don’t I help you record?”

“That’s a great idea! Then my brother can read the book while he stays over. Right?” Tonia presses on, smiling far too brightly for his taste as Zhongli muses, considering the possibility.

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be too much trouble?”

Childe nearly stumbles at the sight of his relief. Really, his smile isn’t good for his heart—neither is the look he gives him, as if he hung over the moon that very moment. “None at all.”

“What a relief… I’ll tell Venti immediately that I can record the ‘ASMR: Boyfriend Reads to You’ video.”

—What?

Zhongli looks up from his phone after he texts his friend and tilts his head slightly in confusion, his earring brushing against his shoulder.

He looks adorably concerned and maybe a little bit aware that he’s responsible for Childe’s reaction. “Is there something wrong?”

“N-no. Nothing. That’s great. Good. I’m excited to be your boyfriend.”

Tonia lets out a little giggle and he’s sure that there’s somebody at the library silently praying for his downfall as he hurriedly corrects himself. “For the video, of course. Should I give you my number so we can set a date?”

Not deterred by Childe’s flustered expression, Zhongli nods as he hands him his phone. Maybe this is what he expected—that’d most likely be the case if most of his prior knowledge about Childe came from Tonia, who delights in both embarrassing and complimenting her brother like there’s no tomorrow. “Of course. Please give me your number.”

So with the shame of a college student that never managed to shake off his competitive streak from high school, Childe types his number in and promises himself that this won’t happen again.

(His younger sister lords it over him anyways on the way home, a skip in her step as she recalls it.)

Childe 2:34 i got his #

Twin 1 2:35 for the video recording*

Twin 1 2:35 u also embarrassed yourself. tonia told me all about it lol

Ugh. Of course she did. Childe peeks his head into his sister’s room, hearing her recount the library incident with a few more exaggerations poking fun at what he did than he’d like. Aether must be having the time of his life, which should make them equal considering that Childe made him think that Scaramouche was the best TA ever and would be even nicer if you made him an apple pie. (He hated apples.)

Well. They’re even now, aren’t they?

Childe 2:38 ya but he didn’t notice so its ok. BTW neither of u told me he was that airheaded

Twin 1 2:38 itd be funnier that way

Childe 2:39 oh yeah it was really cute

Twin 1 2:41 didn’t need to know that. anyways u do know how to work a camera right?

Childe 2:41 yea…? who do you think takes all of tonia’s pictures

Twin 1 2:42 no i mean like actual professional cameras used to record

Hm… That was a bit of an oversight on his part, wasn’t it? He texts a quick ‘yeah’ because it couldn’t be that bad and he’ll watch several videos on how to work a camera later, won’t he? There should be three buttons max. Easy.

Not to mention he took an elective on film and he’s watched Zhongli’s videos more times than he can count at this point. So really, there’s not much to worry about. The only problem is that he needs to build up immunity.

If he looks like a “blushing maiden”—Tonia’s words, not his—every time Zhongli looks at him, wouldn’t that be trouble? It’s bad enough that he embarrassed himself in front of his twelve-year-old sister but to look like a fool in front of the same guy his sleeping schedule depends on would be debilitating in more ways than one.

Deciding that he won’t let himself lose this time around, he sends a quick text to Zhongli saying ‘Saturday at 4:00 PM, right? See you there :)’ to psyche himself up before deciding a plan of action. There must be something that’ll impress him—no, completely sweep him off his feet.

More aware than ever that he’s fitting the image of a lovestruck idiot his sister painted him as, Childe watches his phone as it pings with a single ‘OK’ and ‘I am looking forward to working with you’ trying to convince himself that his erratic heart rate and the heat rushing to his face is just a side effect of working with somebody that he greatly admires. (It is, by all accounts, infatuation — but he’ll try to ignore that for now.)