#attitudes to self-publishing

[rozmorris]

Not a fast writer? You can still build a successful publishing strategy - guest spot at @IndieAuthorAlli

The classic advice for authors, particularly indie authors, is to pump out a lot of books fast to build a big backlist and keep your readers interested. But that pace of writing and production doesn’t suit everybody. Exhibit A, the introduction to my newsletter. For a long time, slow-burn authors in the indie world weren’t getting seen or acknowledged. Most of the guidance was geared to fast…

[maggiegrace]

#books #self publishing #authors of Tumblr

derramei meu coração nas páginas, depois de três longos anos, de amor, desgosto e cura. Este livro de poemas está completo e pronto para ser compartilhado. do meu coração para o seu, aproveite.💜🐝📖

Obrigado pela ajuda

mulher levanta mulheres 💕

Você pode encontrá-lo aqui

[dj-of-the-coven]

summing up a different post of mine in a much smaller package

[quazart]

The Emerald Comes First

(Modern/ X)Knuckles x (platonic!) Reader

He'd finally gotten the last piece of the emerald back. But, it being in the city had taken a while. Finding all the lost pieces had taken a while. Here he is, almost two weeks later, and barely finished.

Pathetic.

It was already a shame he'd let himself be cornered by that idiot doctor, giving him no choice but to shatter the very purpose of his being. But taking this long to find all the pieces? That made the guilt eat away at him even worse.

A growling interrupted his thoughts. He looked down at himself, disgruntled.

Or maybe it was just his stomach eating itself. 

Frowning, he carries on. It didn't matter right now. Once he was back on his island, then he could relax and eat something. 

He finds a tall enough jump point and leaps into the air. His dreads catching a gust and allowing him to ride the wind home. Picking a new current every once in a while to take him to his desired destination. 

His eyes are dry and red from lack of sleep and it takes effort to keep them open. He's so very tired, having slept little to none during his quest. 

But the emerald came first. He could recover later. 

Unfortunately for him, his body disagreed. His eyes droop and shut for, what felt like, only a moment. This little mistake sending him diving into another current and traveling in the wrong direction. His eyes snap open at the shift and he attempts to right himself before he could fall straight out of the sky. 

He growls and searches for another current to get him back on course. He had to be quick. His glide making him fall miles and miles the wrong way, with each passing minute. 

'There's one!'

He feels for it and turns. The strong gust sending him back where he was originally headed. 

A couple minutes pass before he finally sees his island come into view. 

He sighs, so close.

His excitement and relief cause his muscles to relax, for the first time in a while. He is very close to passing out from exhaustion.

He'd been fighting and searching with no breaks for a little over a week and a half, and his body was more than ready for rest. 

His eyes were beginning to fall again. Only one thought floating around in his mind kept him awake.

The emerald. 

He's just a couple yards away now. Almost there. He begins to zone out.

Until he suddenly finds his vision taken over by a face full of, '(y/n)?!'

You both yell in surprise, not having seen the other until a second before Knuckles crashed right into you.

"Puah!!"

"Oof!!"

Both of you fall over, the echidna landing ontop of you and sending you back a couple feet before stopping. The emerald pieces scatter around you both. Having fallen out of Knuckles grasp, upon impact.

You stay on the ground, unmoving, for a moment. Temporarily, K.O.'d by the sudden echidna's arrival. 

Knuckles was left dazed, but not from the impact. Yes, he was surprised to see you here, but his body is finally getting what it's needed, and he's not sure he can fight its urge to rest much longer.

He was home, his friend was here, the emerald was here.

Everything was fine.

'Wait, the emerald!'

With eyes half-lidded, but still alert,  he lifts his head enough to count the pieces of the gem, ensuring they were all still there. They were. He releases a breath he was holding, in relief, and puts his head back on your shoulder. You wouldn't mind if he took two minutes to rest his eyes would you? 

You were greatly surprised by your friends entrance. How had you not seen him? How did he not see you? A bright red echidna, or a human, on Angel Island? You don't see many humans here. Or any for that matter. Even mobians! How did he manage to run into you?

You take a good look at him. There are bags under his eyes. When did he last sleep? His frame seemed slightly slimmer compared to the last time you saw him. And his tail, which naturally stood raised high, laid limp behind him. He looked exhausted. 

"Knuckles?... Knux?"

He groans as you boop his snoot. A violet eye peeks at you. Letting you know he's listening, more or less.

"Knux, when was the last time you slept?"

He weakly shrugs. Closing his eye. His fatigued brain and body wanting nothing more than some lovely sleep. A fuzzy, blissful feeling just from closing his eyes, taking over his senses. Making him not even bother to fight anymore.

You glare, what does he mean by a shrug? He doesn't know, or it doesn't matter? Either one isn't good.

But apparently not bad enough.

His stomach rumbles, strong enough to practically shake his little frame. He curls in on himself with a grunt. The grumbling lessening, but not going away.

'The idiot hasn't been eating either?!'

Now very worried for him, you quickly sit up. While upsetting your friend, you didn't care. 

He remains in a dazed sitting position, watching as you quickly pick up all the emerald pieces and gesture for him to follow you. He gives you a blank face, but gets up. Or, tries to at least. His shaky limbs not wanting to cooperate with their neglectful owner. No sleep. No food. And on the move for almost two weeks, it was surprising he hadn't full on collapsed yet.

You sigh and frown, this is gonna take forever, unless you do something.

You walk over to where he's standing, his legs shaking under his weight, and gently pick him up and holding him like a sack of potatoes over your shoulder. Your arm looping over his side and back, and his limbs hanging on either side. His head facing behind you as you began your trek to the shrine.

Knowing where you were headed, and having  nothing else to do, Knuckles relaxed and dozed off in your hold. Too tired to argue or fight against the ridiculous way you held him. 

Although, he wouldn't admit it for the life of him, he secretly loved any and all physical contact. Especially when it came from you. You being the only one, of all his friends, that he trusted the most. Besides Sonic and Tails. 

He fell asleep to the sound of your steps and sway of your walk.

The poor idiot.

You tell him, time and time again, 'Take care of yourself or there won't be a guardian to watch over the M.E.', but does he listen? No! Of course not! You're just a human who knows nothing about mobians, let alone an ancient tribe and their ways of protecting a big green rock. It's not like you're his best friend or anything, who he's repeatedly told the history and importance of the emerald and the island to. Or how echidnas, and any mobians in general, have the same basic needs as humans, such as the need for rest and food! No, no. You were an ignorant little human. You didn't know what you were taking about. 

You take a deep breath and sigh, looking at your friend. Sound asleep.  No. You couldn't blame him too much.

For neglecting himself, definitely yes.

His poor stomach still complaining, even after he'd fallen asleep.

You sigh.

You're upset, but you do understand where his stubborn efforts were coming from. 

His job, since he could remember, had been compromised. His self-claimed ,'soul purpose' ,being taken away from him. Of course he'd do everything in his power to get it back, a.s.a.p.

You just wish he'd also dedicate some time to take better care of himself, along the way.

You make it up the shrine. Kneeling down to put the emerald shards in the pile he'd started and covering it with a net like device you'd brought, that Tails had made. With the push of a button it would act as a cage that would camouflage whatever was underneath it. Along with a defense system that would electrocute anybody that doesn't have a programmed chaos energy reading or DNA signature within a ten yard vicinity on the x, y and z axis, so nobody could get anywhere near it.

You didn't know how to put the M.E. back together and probably couldn't if you did. It was his thing. An echidna thing. So you leave it as it is, and walk down the steps.

You make your way to a small house Knuckles had recently fixed up, after you'd scolded and cared for him after getting sick from staying out when it was snowing, a couple months back. You walk in, bend down a bit to get through the door, and take him to his bed. Well, it was a hammock, but he used it as a bed so, same thing.

You look for his blankets and pillow to set him up with. He always folded and put them away after using them. You guessed to either keep the house tidy, or to keep them as nicely kept as the day you brought them for him. Once that's that, you turn away from him.  Wondering when he'd wake up. And what to do in the meantime.

A groan from behind you brings your attention back to your friend. 

The sleeping echidna turns in his hammock with a grimace, curling into himself and holding his middle, but doesn't wake up.

You sigh.

That's what you'll do, while you wait, then.

It's not for another three hours before he wakes up.

At first, he's confused.

How did he get here?

'Where's the emerald!'

He quickly sits up. Vision spinning from the sudden move. He holds his head for a second, giving it a little shake. 

He looks around and finds you in the kitchen, washing a dish, he guessed you'd probably just used.

His senses finally awaken along with the rest of him. His stomach cramps at the smell of food. A pained noise escaping him. 

You hear his short cry and see him sitting up with an arm gripping his abdomen.

"Well good morning sleeping beauty." 

He frowns. You'd told him about human stories before. Human Princess stories, to be exact. So he understood your tease with little to no amusement. 

You laughed at his expression. 

"Put that face away you grump and come and eat."

His eyes gave away his interest for the food, but he didn't move. 

"Where's the emerald." He asks pointedly.

"Up on the shrine, and don't worry. It's protected."

Now he tries to stand up, but his legs shake under him and give way. He falls to all fours with a gasp, and you hurry over to him. Now slightly rested and fully conscious, his pride was touchy, so you just help him to his feet rather than pick him up again. He grumbles under his breath about being fine,  or something along those lines, but accepts your help nonetheless. 

"It's alright Knux, just sit down. I'll bring it to you."

He shakes his head," No. I need to get to the emerald."

Now it your turn to frown. "Um, no, I don't think so. You're staying here. "

"Oh? And who's gonna stop me? You?" He taunts, but not in an entirely joking manner. 

You glare at him and suddenly release him, for only a second.

"Woah!!"

Surprising him as he fell straight to the ground... almost.

You scruff him at the last second and stand him back up.

"You were saying?"

He turns away, crossing his arms. Glaring and mumbling again about who knows what.

You do pick him up this time, but just to get him back to bed.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anymore rest. I need to get to the emerald."

You look him over for a second."Not a chance."

His eyes widen, looking incredulous.

"Look kid, you can barely stand. Let alone walk over to and go up the stairs to the shrine. And then to use even more energy to put it back together? I don't think so."

He looks away from you. Angered by your argument and his predicament. His fatigued and starved body not helping his crabby attitude. 

"Well, then why can't you take me there? So I can see for myself it's safe, at least?!"

You walk away toward the kitchen again, getting a bowl and spoon.

" Is my word not good enough for you? The emerald is fine. And, no."

His jaw nearly drops, and he glares."So, that's it then! You're just gonna leave me here?! I thought we were friends! Isn't that what they're supposed to do? Help each other when one is in need!?"

You fill up his bowl and grab a glass with water. Bringing it over to him.

"Well, yes, friends help their friends. Especially when they're in need." 

"Well this is a need. A big need. I Need your help to get me to the emerald. Right about now would be preferable."

You sit beside him on a stool and place the water next to him on a little nightstand beside you two. The bowl of soup still in your hands, as you stir to cool it off.

"I thought I already said no?"

"Wha-! What is your deal?! Why not!"

"Why, so you can ignore my wishes and think,'Hey, I'm already here. Might as well put the emerald back together and get this island off the ground!' And then I'd have to pick up your comatose tail back to your hammock and fend off harder thieves like Rouge or Eggman by myself, on a floating island. Oh, yes, have the flightless, glide-less, not as durable as a mobian-human fight the tougher bad guys AND take care of you while you're unconscious."

He growls and crossed his arms again. Then you act like you'd just had an idea.

"Ah, you know what? I have a better idea."

He's about to snark and argue with you again, but you hold the bowl you had right infront of his muzzle. The strong smell of the broth and herbs getting to him, and sending another cramp through his torso. 

You look him in the eyes. A serious frown on your face. 

"Eat. Rest. Get better. Then, you'll be able to take yourself, whenever you want. I won't stop you."

He growls in frustration turning away from the bowl, but his stomach decides for him. A painful groan encouraging him to take the soup. Albeit, with a begrudged look on his face, but at least he's eating.

You walk away to give him space.

"And don't worry so much about the emerald. With the island already down, and you huddled up here, nobody would think to come here. Tails' invention will keep the emerald, along with it's energy signature, hidden. Without the emerald, the island doesn't float. No floating island or guardian, no precious emerald....I'll be at the shrine."

He watches as you leave the house. His earlier attitude fading away. You were right. What better time to recover than when the island looked emerald-less.

He looks down at himself. Cozied up with the blankets and pillows you'd gotten him. And a hot meal he never asked you to make.

His insides turn.

You'd been treating him like a friend since he'd gotten back. Maybe better than a friend. And he'd done nothing but argue and claim otherwise since he'd woken up. After you'd probably been watching over his island the entire time he was gone. Without him asking that of you either.

Thinking ahead, keeping the shards he'd already brought, safe. Keeping his home safe and secure.

And after all that. He just had to push and question your loyalty as a friend. All because he didn't get what he wanted. Even though you'd given him what he sorely needed.

He sighs. Setting his spoon back in the bowl. He was starving. Those couple of spoon fulls doing nothing but taunt his stomach. But after you'd departed, so did his appetite.

He set aside the bowl on the nightstand, beside his water, and tries to get up again. He knew if he didn't apologize now, he'd lose the courage to later.

He slowly stands on shaky legs.

He takes a breath and steadies himself. His feet holding firm enough, he begins a slow trek to the shrine. 

Sure enough, there you are.

He'd just come to the clearing where the altar sat and he could see you at the top of the stairs. Keeping lookout, especially now that all the emeralds pieces were together, you knew they'd need watching out for,  now more than ever.

He looks ahead and makes his way to you.

He doesn't make it very far before you disappear. Only to reappear behind him. Your sudden appearance startling him aback, he almost trips over himself.

He always hated when you did that.

You saw him coming even before reaching the clearing. Even among the lush forest greenery, a bright red echidna can catch your eye instantly. You looked away and fumed for a bit and quickly decided to mess with him. Not only for not resting like you'd told him, but to get a little even for how he acted earlier.

And it worked. 

Knuckles hadn't seen you leave the altar and so missed you coming up behind him.

" What are you doing here?"

You asked, making him nearly jump out of his sneakers. You knew he was a little out of it, but you didn't think it was this bad.

He turns to see you, his mouth opening like he had something to say, but closing again. He repeated this again, but still said nothing.

While amusing, you were still very much upset.

"While I do find your fish impression pretty impressive, once again, I ask, why are you here?"

He looked down towards his feet. A couple bugs scurried about, distracting him for a moment. He knew what he wanted to say. So why couldn't he say it?!

'She's your best friend. You aren't a coward, are you?' He repeats in his mind.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you.

"Look, I just wanted to say.. I'm sorry. I know you were trying to help me, but..I didn't see that. I thought you didn't care about what needed to be done. That you didn't respect me or my job. But you did.. you do. You didn't give me what I wanted, but you did give me what I desperately needed. Even if i couldn't see it and fought you over it, you fought back for my own wellbeing. And..I'm sorry for taking you for granted like that, and for questioning you and acting like a jerk. If anybody wasn't acting like a good friend, it was me."

You stare at him for what felt like an hour to him, then reply with a frown. 

"Knux, I'll always be there for you, whether you like it or not. And as much as I appreciate and accept your apology, you really shouldn't be here. You're still doing exactly the opposite of what you should be doing."

He doesn't understand. Shouldn't his apology have made things better?

"Look at me Knux, forget the emerald for now, it's safe. Forget about me for now, I'm safe, and I'm not mad at you, or going anywhere. You,-" you poke his forehead. He gives an almost cross eyed frown.

"You've done your job for now. You should be resting back in bed. Did you even finish the bowl I gave you?"

He frowns and dry swallows, giving you your answer. You roll your eyes. 

"How many times-."

You pick him up over your shoulder, the same way you'd done earlier, with one arm. And surprisingly, he doesn't seem to mind. His head turns towards you as you spoke.

 "You come first Knux. Before the emerald. Before the island. Without you, the emerald has no guardian." He tries to argue, but you quickly shut him down.

"But I-"

"shush*"

He blinks,"Ah? Did you just shush me-"

"Shhh."

He gave you an annoyed look, but doesn't comment anymore. Just glad you were still friends and you weren't mad at him.

You both get back to the house quicker than if you'd let him walk on his own.

You let him down to get to bed, while you get him a fresh bowl of soup.

He doesn't even bother to put the covers over himself. He just drops himself into his hammock. The hanging bed, swinging him back and forth. His fatigue weighing on him even more, now that he was accepting it.

You come over and hand him the food. With his appetite suddenly returned, he quickly sits up and eats.

After polishing off a couple bowls, he thanks you and hands you his dish after you'd come to take it. Laying down, he just stares at his ceiling. Listening to you moving about in the kitchen and then saying you'll be back, as you go to keep watch again.

He nods, and at the same time, thinking about you. His friend, who would keep a lookout for his island and the emerald. Looking out for him. The nice thoughts helping him to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Just as your out the door, you hear his snoring and smile.

Finally!

[saltcherry]

feel like my boss is lightly gaslighting me about some things but whatever, at least she is responding to my concerns?

[mrthinkerr]

Reading is worth the risk of doing it.

[wakkass]

Some time ago I wanted to draw StF characters during high school. I liked thinking about what they would look like at that age so much that a whole AU was born, which I painted.

During adolescence, a lot changes in a person's life: the environment, attitude, appearance and even one’s own self.

It became interesting for me to confront the characters with this, so the main theme of the AU is the first changes and the unknown that follows them.

As you may have noticed, the sisters are drawn in school uniforms. I think that the routine of high school gave a powerful impetus to the development of the characters' problems, because school is almost the main part of any teenager's life. This is a large concentration of stress, and its consequences are reflected in my AU.

Overall, I hope you enjoy reading this. I have divided the information on the characters and will make their profiles in separate posts. Links will be below as these profiles are published.

💜Sofia💜

💚Amber💚

[kiddotarot]

SUN AND YOUR PENDING KARMIC GOALS.

Explanation = sun represents soul and self in the astrology with studying about it placement you can get what karmic goal and achievement you need to work on .

1. Sun in 1H/Aries = Aggression is the main point here it can be because in past life you are forced to develop a free will by involving war or you are forced to survive own your own thats the reson you enjoy the cut trusth competition. Your main goal is becoming aware of the unnecessary fighting spirit and take care of other needs .

2. Sun in Taurus/2H = With this placment you have a word which you use often " mine " . You think that your security and you are right place this can also lead you to not cutting your ties in unhappy marriage or environment because you don't learn that you can do better than this . Your pending karma is to learn to self security and trust yourself and make a strong rooted connection with yourself.

3. Sun in Gemini/3H = With this placment i can say in past life you are a publisher or teaching other thing related to spreading words . But it can also show that you are in gossip in past life you can share facts thst you don't even know is real or not just like a repoter. The duality is biggest problem for you . Your karmic goal is to express yourself cleary and fact check that you are communicating with right way .

4. Sun in cancer/ 4H = I don't be surprised if you get stuck in nostalgia often in a day. You take everyone and every relationship on a emotional level and often think and feel clingy to to the thing and person you feel familiar. Possessiveness can be problems here . Your pending karma is you set a stong connection with yourself and heal to the inner level.

5. Sun in leo/5H = You are the natural entertainers and may be tou don't have to work hard for this but you need a recognition from it and if don't get it then it can lead you to don't give people there importance. Your karmic goal is to use your charm in creativity and develop a positive attitude to gain popularity.

6. Sun in virgo/6H = This placment can lead you tobe a taskmaster but hard on yourself as well as on others. And main things that this can also give you fear of faliur. And it can also lead you to hating yourself on little faliur and mistake. The karmic goal is to love yourself and accept yourself regarless any flaws.

7. Sun in libra/7H = You love a place with harmonious and beautiful environment. You know when the things around you is right and when not. And often you find yourself most of the time putting efforts to make things right for others but in this process you can loose yourself. With your need to be liked it can lead you to fit in other standards. Your karmic goal is to takecare yourself in a relationship and find comfort in yourself.

8. Sun in scorpio/ 8H = with this you have a challenge to master the power . You can find yourself attracting a lot of people with your hidden side and charm . You love over power scenarios but it can also lead you again in karmic connection. Your karmic goal is controing is not an option you soul need to involve and invite the great divine.

9. Sun in sagittarius/9H = This make you a great followers of ethic and law and follow the rule but there is always a side when you feel you are not participating and involving yourself fully into new experiences. You are just taking your personal freedom. Your karmic goal is to understand the real meaning of life and live it don't just stuck in sitting examples.

10. Sun in Capricorn/10H = with this placement you need to understand that success is a state of life and mind its not a race . You need to establish or understand it from inner state outer world is not going to satisfy this need . Your karmic goal is to live with inner security and power first before giving it to other world.

11. Sun in Aquarius/ 11H = you can be always confused in the changing yourself or remain the same. Because your soul crave for changing and for this you have to take your freedom. It can lead you to become detached but it can also lead you to bad thing . Your karmic goal is to leave unhealthy things and become flexible in this matters.

12. Sun in pieces/12H = you can have a feeling to stuck in a victim mentality where you feel that you need to take care of other things or people because you feel that is the same scenarios where you feel victim like them. Your karmic goal is to develop your own lesson and path do not take anyone other to achieve wholeness.

[caraphernellie]

ephemeral.

for your information: author!abby x editor!fem!reader. professionals with a very strained relationship. abby and reader drinking a little but completely coherent + sober still. haters-to-lovers, semi-public, outdoor sex. bratty!reader. fingering (r!receiving). steamy make out session. clichés ahead. pet names used: baby, good girl, various insults tbh. 2.8K WC.

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑, had this idea for like, a whole year now. oops. just love autumnal/dark academia type shit and abby is my favourite bookworm. abby picture by @/tpicsl on pinterest. MASTERLIST.

Creativity is fickle. Abby knows it better than anyone.

Her mind is her greatest asset. It is a hidden strength; everybody thinks they have her figured out just by glancing at her. The woman is built of brawn and steadily-sculpted muscle, but it is merely a peek into her real power.

Abby's appearance is a reflection of dedication, an application of self-discipline trained over many moons.

Her brain is her might. Her will to excel. It is a library of all the things she has loved, words she has read, stories she has heard.

And the result is an author of applaudable talent. Yet, her reputation precedes her—she is not easy to work with.

Abby has published four books so far in her career, but she's been through twice the amount of editors in that time. Nothing could ever stunt her rise to fame, no matter how many claims were made against the woman's cocky, self-gratified nature. Abby Anderson is a household name.

But as her most long-standing editor, you must agree with the rumours. Working for Abby is a living nightmare.

Creativity is fickle. Abby refuses to let anybody impede on her artistry. If they do not see her vision, she will throw a fit. Writing is her gift, and god forbid someone attempts to critique it. She rejects all common writing advice—should anyone attempt to tell her to 'kill her darlings', Abby will send back a heated, passive aggressive email.

You let her have her freedom. That is the difference between you and other editors. Perhaps they don't see the vision like you do, and absolutely not like Abby does. You will remove what is only necessary, and maybe there are small disagreements every so often, but you have proven yourself to have the wit that matches Abby's perplexity.

You do not leech on her—sucking the life and rareness out of her words, only to brag and drag her name through the mud. Even Abby will admit that you are the most pleasant editor to work with.

But god, she almost burnt you out.

Impossible deadlines, communicating at only the most iniquitous hours. Whether it was a high-priority email at midnight or two-thousand words to be read and fixed by the end of the day, she was a prick. On purpose.

And why? Well, even though your furious emails would raise her hackles, she began to realise she actually enjoyed reading them. You've got quite the attitude. It certainly tickles her dry sense of humour, after all. Everything you say is professional, so as to not raise alarm, but it's laced with just enough venom to sting.

Her personal favourite email, which she immediately starred, is the one in which you were complaining about her constantly quoting you in her own book.

'Miss Anderson, I do not find you as funny as you think you are. I would like to be taken seriously when I voice my concerns about your ill-treatment of my service, as flattering as it may be that I have inspired your work. 'Please see attached the edited draft as requested.  'P.S. I do believe you ought to get some sleep. Sending a draft at 03:30 is not acceptable.'

It's just not fiery enough to halt her efforts.

Somehow, you made it out alive. Pulled yourself out of quicksand with that heavy load on your back. You have lived long enough to be present tonight.

Today marks the highly anticipated release of Abby Anderson's fifth release, her newest standalone title following her critically acclaimed series. Many reviews seem to say she just keeps getting better, while others written in unkempt fury detest her for writing in a way that feels almost pretentious nowadays.

Abby's clearly had a day full of bustling conversation, hundreds of well wishes. She signed so many copies of her book that her wrist aches of overuse. She made it through, thank goodness, and the hour of relaxation has finally arrived.

The release party.

Who doesn't love a party? A warm celebration filled with prideful chit-chat, her family and friends, and competitors masking their envy with tight-lipped smiles and side-eyes.

All that and a splash of champagne to take the edge off.

Your heels crunch flaxen leaves in your path to the door, streams of fading sunlight painting the yacht club in warm golds and gingers. It's a remotely calm evening save for the seaside breeze. The trees whistle and you can hear the faint sound of pastoral waves clashing with the cliffside.

Your inner-voice begs for a few moments more stood outside the party. You could give yourself some grace, a fleeting moment to prepare for the questioning and disrespect you'll receive.

You think back to a charity event Abby hosted once. You met a man who spoke with blatant indiscretion about Abby's writing, and admittedly your ego was bruised as much as Abby's would have been. He had watched you argue your point, and when you finished, the man parted his lips to ask, 'who are you?'

Her fucking editor, that's who. Only one who'll put up with her.

It would help if Abby would stop acting like she doesn't know you.

You don't expect flowers, nor praise. She wrote those books by herself. But a tree cannot grow without proper care. If her words were sowing the seeds, you were watering them.

If only Abby could take the stick from her ass and so kindly acknowledge the sweat and tears you put into dealing with her.

Light disappears into the horizon and the moon has risen. These cocktail parties were never your style. It isn't a wild bender, nor is it a classy and quiet event. It's just somewhere between that.

Networking.

It's tedious, dreadful. If you don't catch their attention within the first seconds of the conversation, you won't make that connection. First impressions are everything, and unfortunately, you struggle to be as charming as the others in this room.

"Well, well, well. Look who showed up."

Her eyes have wandered to you for the past two hours, not as discreet as she thought she was being. It seems Abby has finally found the time to pull away from big-wig publishers and authors to finally seek you out.

"I almost thought you were gonna pull the same shit as last time 'n hide all night."

"You wish." Your voice is dry and quick, always straight to the point. "Makes no difference if I stay in the shadows or hang around the others. You'll ignore me anyway."

"No," Abby murmurs, a scrunched up scowl on her face now. It's far from hateful, and directed more towards herself than you. "I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"Mhm."

"You know what I just.. love?" Abby asks, head tilted towards you. You are a thief to Abby's attention no matter where or when, but regret to realise that. "You are just as hard to deal with in person as you are over email. It's really authentic."

"Ah." You give a curt nod, taking a short sip of wine, and notice the way her eyes track the movement. They linger over your lips, struggling to tear away. "I am glad you think so. I like to keep it real."

She scoffs, short and breathy. "Yeah. It's real lovely."

Abby enjoys the way you match her energy. She enjoys it too much.

"So, did you come here to say anything worthwhile, or are you just polite enough to greet all your guests?"

Her face doesn't change—her smile remains intact, but it's the twitch of her eye that forces a soft chuckle past your lips.

"Yeah, actually. You know, I was getting there." Abby's indignant reply is masked with a pleasant tone, one that irks you. She doesn't know how to act any way but sarcastically with you. She could say the smallest thing, but it gets on your nerves. You're not the most proud of how reactive you are to Abby's behaviour. "You know, some sappy shit about how helpful you are. But I might keep it to myself now."

"Makes no difference to me," you say with a shrug of your shoulders. Actually, it would be nice to hear what she has to say. "You couldn't be genuine with me if you tried."

"You know what? Let's go." Abby takes and sets your glass down on a nearby table for you, hand wrapping firm around your wrist. "I have some things to say to you that I'd rather others don't hear."

"Can't wait," you mutter, anticipating what, from past experience, can only be referred to as a sour exchange of words.

Abby drops your hand to get the door with the most cocky grin you've seen on her face in a long time. "Ladies first."

The French doors lead to a round balcony that overlooks the water. As you step outside you feel a wave of relaxation overcome you. The ocean is calm, the breeze from earlier has filtered away into a still, but cold, night. The only sounds you can hear are muffled chatter and music from inside.

"Alright." You clasp your hands together and bat your lashes. "What was it you had to say? Don't forget to raise your voice this time."

"Y'know, I actually wasn't planning on yelling at you," Abby says in a gritty voice, stepping closer. "But if you keep trying to get smart with me, I may reconsider."

"Oh, of course. I hope you do. It's a pleasant sound."

"I— Stop talking."

Without you having realised, she's backed you into a corner. Your hands grasp the stone fence of the balcony tightly, looking away until she tugs your jaw closer.

"I wanted to actually say something nice. You know, a sorry for being a cunt. A thank you for putting up with me. I wouldn't have half the success I have if it weren't for you."

"Oh."

It's simply unexpected. It isn't an out-of-this-world idea for Abby to be sincere, of course not. But her confidence is often mistaken for pure arrogance. You just didn't think she could tone down her ego enough for something like this. Not at a release party, at least—this whole shebang is meant to be celebrating her.

"I didn't know how to show you I actually appreciate your work," Abby continues, "I thought about flowers... a letter... you know, for an author, it was ridiculously hard to put some words down. And I wanted to avoid cliché. So I wanted to personally talk to you about it."

"You know, this is actually leaning further into cliché territory than a letter?" You muse, only with the intention of making this slightly less awkward.

Considering Abby is usually the one to let her eyes wander, right now, you are the one who can't pull their eyes away. Her shirt fits her far too perfectly for your liking. Her eyes, electric blue and staring sharply enough to cut you—they're perfect. And you hate it.

"Oh yeah?" Abby huffs, her palm flat on the fence behind you. She's caged you in. "Why's that?"

"Because you look like you're about to kiss me."

She falters for a moment, sheer surprise on her face. Oh, come on. She can't be that clueless to her own desires, can she?

"You wish."

"Well if you don't kiss me, I'm going to kiss you."

"What? Because I said one kind thing to you? Are you really that easy?" Abby lets out a quiet laugh in disbelief, perhaps a bit of shock too—you've thrown her off balance.

"You are the one who's not-so-subtly stared at my lips all night," you point out. "So I think you need to find your own answer to your question."

Jesus, you make Abby actually think sometimes. Interacting with you is different—her wit is matched for once, you indulge in the same dry sarcasm, you're actually fucking intelligent.

But what irritates her is the way you have such a great read on her.

"What I need is for you to shut up and let me be nice to you for once."

"God, you write your own clichés so much you'd think you would have seen this coming." You meet her eyes with that of a mischievous look in your own, lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Make me."

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Screw it.

Her lips are on yours. Her hands settle over your hips. It's warm—incendiary, even. The autumn chill takes a backseat as she kisses you once, twice, and once more.

She stays close enough for your breaths to mingle, lips a hair's breadth away from each other now.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" You murmur. Abby scoffs softly.

"I hate you."

"I don't think that's right."

"No?"

"You're welcome to walk away right now, if you hate me so much."

There is not a chance that's going to happen. Even below the faint blue moonlight, you can see how rosy her cheeks have turned. Not a chance. She's staying right here.

"I thought a kiss was supposed to make you shut up," Abby grumbles.

"Oh, ha, sorry." You aren't sorry in the slightest. That coy smile is going to be the death of her. Who knew little old you would have the upper hand right now? "You can try again, if you'd like."

"Right."

It's as desperate and fiery as before, yet not as ephemeral. She's captured your words with her lips, her hands unceasingly moving along your figure. She touches and grabs everywhere that she can reach. You cup the back of her head and pull her closer as you sit on the balcony fence.

That stresses her out the slightest bit. It's a precarious position, on a high place, no less. But she simply takes it as an opportunity to splay her palm over your ass, 'keeping you from falling off.'

"Here's the deal." Abby attempts to command you, but wandering lips are staining her throat in lipstick and, plain and simply, she whimpers her words. "You're gonna watch that door and tell me if someone's comin'."

"Mhm."

Your mouth seeks her freckled collarbone, so tauntingly visible beneath her shirt. She always leaves the first few buttons undone. You've controlled yourself so well all this time, you deserve to taste the salt of her skin there.

And Abby's fumbling with the button of your pants. They fit you so well. They hug your body just right, flaring at the ankles. They hug her attention, too.

"Coast is clear?" Abby whispers. Her hand is painfully close to where she wants to be, buried into your cunt, but she just can't without the confirmation that you won't be caught in your little escapade.

You peek over Abby's shoulder. The party is still bustling inside, not a soul seeming concerned with the balcony.

"It's clear."

"Thank god."

Abby's hand slides beneath your panties finally. She's amused with the way you spread your thighs wider to accommodate her, your legs wrapping around her waist now.

"That's a good girl," she mumbles, fingers gathering some of your wetness. She nearly shudders at how fucking hot all of this is. You, your stuttered breath, and the thrill of fucking you somewhere so public. "Shh-shh."

Two fingers push past your folds and your hands grip her broadened shoulders. It's a stretch, those thick fingers stuffed pretty inside you, but the feeling is more than welcome.

"Fuck, Abs."

"I know, just be quiet."

Her fingers begin to move, slow at first as she tests the waters, and gradually it reaches a faster pace. Your sounds are even better than she could have anticipated they'd be. Gentle, short moans. So, so cute, and all for her ears' pleasure only.

"Open those eyes, baby. You need to keep watch."

You do your best. You force your eyes open and stare at the blurry door behind Abby.

Her digits reach in deep, they stretch you wide, and her thumb laves over your clit simultaneously. She feels the tension build in your body. Your fingers bruise her shoulders, your legs tremble, and you muffle your rising volume by hiding in the crook of her neck.

"C'mon, baby," Abby encourages, her free hand groping and squeezing your butt. "Gonna cum for me?"

She has finally conquered your attitude. Left you unable to do anything but moan, and fuck, your legs feel like jelly now. She revels in your jittering, in the clenching of your hole around her fingers.

"Good girl." The praise, sweetened further by that smooth voice, leaves you reeling. And like the prick she is, she just has to use your own words back at you. "Wasn't that hard to shut up, was it? You did so good for me."

You hum tiredly in response, weak fingers fastening your trousers again. "I hate you."

"Hate me enough to come home with me?"

Ha.

"Of course."

[edamette]

Analyzing König's presonality

Original post made in TikTok by shikided, published here with their permission.

Let’s start with the fact that König is not shy or self-conscious.

Social anxiety in his case is expressed rather by aggression towards others. Aggression is his defense mechanism (it is different for all people, for some may be a smile, for example).

He can treat people coldly, as well as rudely, out of a subconscious fear of getting into an awkward situation, of being in a vulnerable position. Of course, he is unlikely to like being in a crowd, but this does not mean that he will start to panic and blush, after all, he is a disciplined soldier.

However, König is active and restless, as evidenced by the fact that he was not accepted as a sniper not only because of his height, but also because of his inability to stay in place for a long time. (This is suits his stormy temper)

His expressiveness is especially noticeable in the way he speaks, and Jim Boeven conveys this perfectly. Just compare the original voice acting by Konig and, for example, the Russian one. In Russian, his voice is much calmer and more direct, more balanced, which is out of character.

König is impudent, proud, sharp-tongued. “Pick your guts off the floor” or “and they said that I couldn’t be a sniper” – he’s literally spitting bile, and this still hurts him, as a consequence of the fact that he’s trying to look like a sniper, making himself a mask with his own hands. This desire meant a lot to him, and this is to some extent his personal protest. König did not fully accept the refusal, did not resign himself.

König is brave, even somewhat passionate, not afraid to rush straight into the heat: “get me back into the fight”, “I’m ready for another round”, “don’t worry, leave the heavy lifting to me”.

However, he understands the advantage his height and build give him and uses it. Moreover, he knows how good he is on the battlefield, and does not hesitate to say about it: “finally, some worthy adversaries”, “they are no match for me”. These phrases reveal a need for personal self-affirmation due to his childhood bullying and humiliation. König compensates for the lack of recognition with arrogance and pride, as even his name (King in German) suggests.

This, like his defense mechanism, can cause a disdainful attitude towards other soldiers: “who taught you to shoot?”, “not bad, I’ve seen better”, “let’s be honest, it’s better off in my hands”, “hands off, it’s mine”, curses are also present.

Some fans for some reason see him as a big child, few others as a brutal killer.

König is a fighting unit, a man trained to kill, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’ll kill you for some little thing. He can, of course, but he won’t. König is a hostage rescue specialist, His task is not only to eliminate, but also to save.

Pay attention to his pose in the menu. König does not look shy and cute. On the contrary, his movements are calm, even relaxed, he demonstrates confidence and strength. He raises his hand and points at the player, as if to say “Pikachu, I choose you”, or “we’re gonna make this day”

His phrases sound friendly towards us, like “together we should be victorious”, or “you can be in my team any day” and even “with you until the end”

He seems to be encouraging his comrade, with whom he is now leading a mission. König is closed and cold, but loyal and kind towards his people. Due to his character, I doubt that he has many people whom he truly values, such a person will be very attentive and selective towards those who surround him, therefore he seems to me be a loyal and reliable friend to those whom he truly considers them his loved ones.

Summary: König is an interesting character with a psychological point of view, with his own bee in his bonnet.

Closed, arrogant, cocky, loyal, devoted.

[trans-axolotl]

ID: Intersex activist Max Beck standing in front of the American Academy of Pediatrics with a sign that says Silence=Death.

On October 26th, 1996, the first ever protest for intersex liberation in America took place when activists from Hermaphrodites With Attitude took to the streets to protest the American Academy of Pediatrics. Later memorialized as intersex awareness day, this important action was a milestone for the American intersex movement. Max Beck, one of the intersex activists from HWA, documented the entire protest and later published their recollection in the Intersex Awakening Issue of the Chrysalis Journal. The full piece is pasted under the cut.  

"But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. 

I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America. One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. 

We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!" 

Hermaphrodites With Attitude Take to the Streets: By Max Beck, 1997

In late October of 1996, Hermaphrodites with Attitude took to the streets, in the first public demonstration by intersexuals in modern history. On a glorious fall day, the like of which you can only find in New England, under a crackling, cloudless sky, twenty-odd protesters joined forces to picket the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians in Boston. Deeply aware of the historical and personal significance of the action, and — correctly — surmising that a notebook diary would not be practical on such a whirlwind, windy week-end, I took a small hand-held tape recorder with me. What follows are excerpts from the resulting transcript.

October 24, 1996 2:45 PM, Atlanta’s Hartsfield International Airport

The trip has only just begun and I am already exhausted. Hot. Starving. Fifteen minutes until take-off. Every businessman boarding the plane looks like a pediatric endocrinologist, Boston-bound. Silly thought, testimony to what? My anxiety? My fear? My giddy anticipation? If these bespectacled, suit-and-tie sporting men were pediatricians, would they be flying coach on Continental, with a layover in Newark? I’m headed for Boston, for the Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Pediatricians (AAP). Tens of thousands of pediatricians. I’m not a pediatrician, though, nor am I a nurse; in fact, I barely managed to complete my B.A. I’m a manager of a technical laboratory. We don’t work with children, and the AAP certainly didn't invite me, so why am I going?

With the plane taxiing toward take-off, this is a lousy time to reassess. I’m going. I’m going because I am intersexed. I’m going because the doctors and nurses who treated me as an infant and a child and an adolescent, and those who continue to treat intersexed infants and children today, consider me “lost to follow-up.” I was lost— that’s part of the problem. Now, I’m back.

9:02 PM: Boston’s North End

I’m comfortably ensconced in Alice’s warehouse condo in Boston’s North End, a renovated warehouse with a view of the city skyline, ceilings easily twenty feet high, exposed beams and brick, gorgeous tile floor. As I speak, my hostess is preparing an absolutely phenomenal meal. The aroma of roasted peppers permeates the entire space. Tomorrow, the work begins; my project this evening is to unwind and enjoy this wonderful meal. Easier said than done. I’m feeling excited, enervated, I feel very alive, something I don’t feel very often, I feel very present and aware. It could be my exhaustion, it could be the Chardonnay. But I think, rather, that the excitement is anticipation about what we are about to do. Being here, finally being prepared to raise a voice, to be heard, to be seen, a vocal, out, proud hermaphrodite who is standing up to say, “Let’s rethink this, this isn’t working, we’ve been hurt, stop what you’re doing, listen to us!” I’m really looking forward to meeting Morgan at the airport in the morning; it’s always amazing to make eye contact with someone else who has been there.

October 25, 7:38 AM Boston Commons

En route to my encounter with the AAP, walking the approximately two miles from my hostess’ domicile to the Marriott Hotel at Copley Square, I pause in the Boston Commons to enjoy a park bench, to sip my Starbuck’s decaf, and to watch a group of senior citizens performing Japanese swordsmanship on top of the hill beneath a monument to some forgotten general. The city is cool this morning, but clear, and it promises to be a beautiful weekend. That’s good: we won’t be rained out. I’ve got a stack of about ninety ISNA brochures in the bag at my side, crammed in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. If I want these pamphlets to get inside, I’ve got to get to the site of the Nurses’ Panel at the Marriott before they close the doors. Then it’s back out to the airport, to pick up Morgan. My feet are already killing me.

October 26, 9:15 AM: North End

Morgan and I are sitting at our hostess’ breakfast table, pulling our thoughts together. In a few minutes, we’ll have to leave to pick up Riki at the airport. The logistics of pulling together an action are mind-boggling. There’s no describing the thrill, though, of all that work, all those phone calls, all those miles. Riding a clattering subway on a Saturday morning, seated beside another living, breathing, laughing, swearing intersexual, hugging near-strangers at unfamiliar airports, then riding back, together, defiant, determined, organized, to the heart of so much of our pain, so much of our anger, so much of our need. We gathered in front of the huge Hynes Auditorium, pamphlets and leaflets in hand, and met the AAP attendees as they left the convention center for lunch. The next hour-and-a-half was a blur, as we positioned ourselves in strategic locations before the Hynes, held signs and “Hermaphrodites with Attitude” banner aloft, distributed our literature, engaged AAP members and passers-by in conversation and debate, spoke to microphones, to cameras. In all that time, I recorded only one fragment of a breathless sentence. 

Saturday, 12:20 PM Outside the Hynes

We’ve got all the exits covered, and it’s an incredible, incredibly empowering experience. I remember the words I spoke to the TV camera, if only because I had scribbled a rough outline on the airplane, pirating mightily from Cheryl’s press release. And because the moment was so salient, so real. Me, Max, bespectacled, with blisters on my feet and chapped lips, speaking out to untold numbers of invisible viewers (and a few bewildered pediatricians behind me.)

"When an intersex child is born, parents and caregivers are faced with what seems to be a terrible dilemma: here is an infant who does not fit what our society deems normal. Immediate medical intervention seems indicated, in order to spare the parents and the child the inevitable stigmatization associated with being different. Yet the infant is not facing a medical emergency; intersexuality is rarely if ever life-threatening. Rather, the psychosocial crisis of the parents and caregivers is medicalized. 

Intersexuality is assumed to be a birth defect which can be corrected, outgrown and forgotten. The experiences of members of the intersex support groups indicate that intersexuality cannot be fixed; an intersex infant grows up to be an intersex adult. This hasn’t been explored, because intersex patients are almost invariably “lost to follow-up.” The abstract of a talk that will be given at this very conference by a doctor who treats intersex infants concedes that “the psychological issues surrounding genital reconstruction are inadequately understood.”

Part of the problem is that we were lost to follow-up, and there were reasons for that. But we’re here today to say we’re back, we’re no longer lost, and we’d like to offer some feedback. We’re here to say that the treatment paradigm for “managing” intersexuals is in desperate, urgent need of re-examination. We’re back to say that early surgical intervention leads to more than “just” physical scars and sexual dysfunction. We’re back to say that the lack of education and counseling for intersexuals, our families and the community at large does not lead to a blissful, healthy, well-adjusted ignorance. Rather, it too often leads to a life-threatening shroud of silence, secrecy, and self-hatred. I’m here representing over one hundred fifty intersexals throughout North America.

One hundred fifty intersexuals are saying: Please! Listen! You doctors, you pediatric endocrinologists and urologists treating intersexuals, you nurses interacting with intersexuals and their families, listen to us! We understand intersexuality, not because we have studied the medical literature — although many of us have — not because we have performed surgeries, but because we have been grappling with intersexuality every day of our lives. We’re here to say that those who would have us believe that intersexuality is rare, cloud the issue by breaking us and separating us into narrow etiological categories which have little meaning in terms of our actual, lived experience. We’re here so that other intersexuals can find us — for many of us, finding others like ourselves has been a lifealtering, even life-saving, experience. We’re here to reach parents before their intersex child is born. We’re here to elicit the help of other sympathetic professionals. We can take a stand as openly intersex adults without being crushed by shame! And we did!

7:20 PM: Boston’s North End

Goddess, this is so sweet, so liberating! I was so reluctant a week ago, having my Jesus-in-Gethsemane experience, reluctant to accept — not an onus or responsibility but — to accept who I am. And here’s where the hard work really begins. I’m exhausted when I think of the road before us. But then, it’s nothing like the road behind us. 

Max Beck, 1997.

[maggiegrace]

Nach drei langen Jahren der Liebe, des Kummers und der Heilung habe ich den Seiten mein ganzes Herz gewidmet. Dieser Gedichtband ist vollständig und kann mit anderen geteilt werden. Von meinem Herzen zu Deinem, viel Spaß.💜🐝📖

Ich danke Ihnen für Ihre Hilfe

Sie können es hier finden

[transmutationisms]

how do i know what’s right?

i feel like i have zero critical thinking skills ;-;

a lot of the time when someone poses an idea or a theory they think they’re right, and so they use language that enforces that. but then someone refutes it, and uses language affirming what they believe and i see the point in their argument. and then it gets refuted again and again and again and im just confused.

hi great question. i would love it if there were a single easy litmus test to figure out who's 'right' and whose info i should trust! unfortunately things are rarely this easy, and it's actually completely normal to be overwhelmed by the amount of information being produced and shared, especially when it comes to topics you haven't researched/lived/etc. for most of us, this will be most topics!

i'd preface this by saying that i think your overall attitude here is actually a good one. you're framing it in a pretty self-deprecating way—but actually, imo this type of openness to discussion and disagreement is a really good place to start, esp when dealing with topics that are new to you. nobody enters a contentious debate with a fully fledged, defensible viewpoint. you might feel like you're just treading water here, making no progress toward being able to evaluate arguments for yourself, but i highly doubt that's true.

all of that said: while i again cannot give you a single litmus test for figuring out what's 'right', there are four pretty basic sets of questions that i automatically run through when encountering a new idea, source, topic, or argument: we can call these origin, purpose, value, and limitations.

origin: who's the author? do they have any institutional affiliations? who pays their salary? is this argument or paper funded in any way? is the argument dependent upon the author's social position or status (race, class, etc) and if so, are those factors being discussed clearly? does the author have ties to a particular nation-state or stakes in defending such a nation-state? what's the class character of the author and the argument? what's the social, economic, and intellectual context that gave rise to this argument or source?

purpose: why is this source or person disseminating this information or making this argument? are they trying to sell you anything? are their funders? are they trying to persuade you of a particular political viewpoint? keeping in mind the answers to the 'origin' questions, are there particular ideological positions you would expect to find in this source or argument, and are they present? what are the stakes for the author or source? what about for those who cite the source or further disseminate or publish it?

value: what does this source or argument accomplish well? what aspects of the argument are new to you and strike you as insightful? are there linkages being made that you haven't encountered elsewhere, and that you think are effectively and sufficiently defended? are there statistics or empirical data that might be useful to you in forming your own argument, even if you disagree with how this source or author is interpreting them? what does this argument or source tell you about the types of debates being had, and the rules of those debates?

limitations: where does this argument or source fail you or fall apart? are there obvious rhetorical fallacies you can identify? is the author forgetting or overlooking some piece of information that you know of from elsewhere? which viewpoints may be omitted? keeping in mind the answers to the 'purpose' questions, if this source is defending a particular ideology or political position, is that one you agree with? is it only defensible so long as the author omits or distorts certain pieces of information? are there points where the argument jumps from evidence to a conclusion that the evidence can't fully support? are there alternative explanations for the evidence?

over time you will often find that it becomes more and more automatic to ask yourself these questions. you will also find that the more you read/hear about a particular topic, the faster you can determine whether someone is presenting all of the evidence, presenting it fairly, and using it to fully defend the argument they ultimately want to make. and you will probably also find that at some point, you're able to synthesise your own argument by pulling the strong parts from multiple other people's viewpoints, combining them with your own thinking, and fitting them together in a way that adequately explains and materially analyses the issue at hand.

[makoodles]

HERE ARE SOME DADDY!PRICE/BRAT-ISH READER THOUGHT FOR U BABE <3

- price who scruffs reader and drags her to his office when they mouth off to him. like full stop, she is NOT allowed to do that.

- price who takes care of his girl & pampers her when she acts like a good girl. she’s his princess, even though she obeys him she has him wrapped around her finger.

- price bending her over his lap and spanking her just because she’s pushed him just a /litttllleeee/ too much this week. it’s not even a punishment, this is just her warning.

- i am such a big fan of pussy inspections. i’m so sorry, but i cannot help it. price making sure you haven’t been playing with yourself because you KNOW you’re not supposed to. just opening your legs and prodding around for a while, sometimes he does it just to be mean and tease you.

- getting too drunk & needing to have him take care of you. clinging to him while he focuses on driving, maybe even crying a little about how much you /need/ him.

RAHHHHH THIS CAME IN LITERALLY RIGHT BEFORE I PUBLISHED MY PRICE DADDY KINK FIC SO YOUR TIMING IS UNMATCHED

i am so so head over heels for soft daddy price who is obsessed with pampering his darling girl. even when you're bratty, he thinks that you're just adorable. this man is whipped for you

definitely the fuck around and find out type tho in a way that is honestly so intimating! all he has to do is level you with one of those stern, furrowed eyebrow looks and if you have any kind of self preservation instincts you'll be tossing that attitude of yours out the window.

he's so so patient with you, but there's a limit to everything and you learn how far you can push him. i feel like one of his big limits is being a brat in front of other people. in private, your prickliness and audacity is treated in the same manner as someone might react to a tiny kitten baring its claws. he thinks it's cute, and will watch with amusement as you try to get your own way

but in public? oh, girl. don't even try. it's not worth it

[whalyrae]

DANCE WITH ME - CHAPTER 7

“If you want to keep a secret, you must also hide it from yourself.”

Summary : All your life, you thought you were a beta, a simple and boring beta. Until everything change. But now that you've presented yourself as an omega, how will you manage to live and hide it from your six friends and best friend, all alphas and all in the same pack? (a/n : I'm a shit for summary I'm so sorry-)

Genre : soulmate au (of course I'm a bitch for this), omegaverse, bangtan alphas au!, omega reader, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 5k

Warnings : the usual one I guess, like smut, angst, fluff (yeah its a warning for some people ) mention of depression, abusive parents (physically and morally), violence and blood, PTSD, scars, self harm,…

Tag list : @ghostlyworld @kawaiikpoplover268 @scuzmunkie @iamkookiesforyou @00ihatesnaku @stellauniverse @akemiixx01 @aceofcards05 @strxwbloody @seoul9711 @amara-mars @alex-walker-86 @yoongicatcat @xicanacorpse @maciesmess 

A/N : It took me more time than I thought to write this sorry (again ;-;) dealing with mental health issues is shit really I wish I was strong and courageous like my characters LMAO. So as an apology, this chapter is a little longer than usual :D Hope you'll like it !

I'll never thank u enough for all the likes and shares despite the looong time I take to write and publish the next chapters ;w; that's my only motivation to keep writing the story tbh...! (I have severe impostor syndrome yes...... ^^) so thank you again !! Don't hesitate to let a comment here, or in my inbox !! ♥

Also I made a playlist for the story ! If you have any songs who made you think about the story, you can share it to me and I'll add it on the playlist ! ♥

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad | Spotify playlist

Chapter 6 // Chapter 8

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

A/N² : again it's barely proof read, sorry for the potential mistakes TwT

. . .

The day has come. The practice exam was this afternoon. 

When you woke up this morning, you felt like you wanted to throw up. Being stressed was an euphemism. You didn’t even know why you felt like that. You spent the previous weeks practicing, alone and with Wooyoung. You even had some help and advice from his boyfriend, San. 

You never get why you were so stressed. Once the music started, all the anxiety and apprehension would disappear. It had always been that way when you danced. 

These last few months, your body was really testing you, and you weren't thanking it at all. 

You knew the steps perfectly, you and Wooyoung’s coordination and synchronization were perfect. You were more than ready, you knew it. And despite that, you were anxious, sure you’d fail everything, having bad notes, failing your scholarship after working so hard…

“Y/N ?”

The sudden voice startled you. In your kitchen, you were the last remaining in this apartment. Your roommates had already left, wanting to rehearse one last time before the exam. 

You would have done the same, but the stress and anxiety had given you such a stomach ache that it took you longer to get out of bed. 

You weren’t surprised to see Jimin not really anxious. You'd never seen him stressed when it came to dancing. And from the relaxed attitude Hoseok and Jungkook had shown since you'd met them, you suspected they were in the same category as Jimin. 

When you recognized the voice and noticed Jin facing you, you couldn't hide your surprise. 

“I thought you all left for work ?” you asked him, trying to stay calm. 

“Yoongi don’t need me at this hour,” Jin replied with a chuckle, “I'll be more of a nuisance than anything else. Is everything all right?”

You noticed the two cups of coffee held in his hands when he handed one to you. You silently thanked him and took a sip after blowing on the top of the cup to not burn yourself. It was delicious. Jin's coffees were the best. He'd never forgotten how you took it, ever since the first time he'd served you on the day you met. 

"I can smell your stress from the doorway, you know?" he said after a few seconds, seeing that you didn't answer because you simply didn't know what to say. 

You chuckled and pursed your lips, it was a nervous laugh. 

"Is it that obvious?"

"Trust me there's a picture of you next to the word anxious in the dictionary!"

Okay, the next laugh was more relaxed, more sincere. Jin had this sense of humor that some might find heavy and boring, but it was just the opposite for you. You were always the first to laugh at his jokes, sometimes even against your will. But what could you do? Jin was naturally amusing. He had a way of lightening the mood quickly and with just a few words. 

“Everything will be fine, you don’t have to worry about that.” He kept talking, as he took a step towards you, "You've worked hard, you've done your best, there's no reason for you to fail. Don't forget that you're good, you're really good."

Delicately, his hand came to rest on your shoulder, provoking a slight discharge that was anything but painful. 

How had you never noticed that what you felt for them, for him, wasn't friendship? That need you felt with every physical contact, your heart racing, your stomach twisting in such a pleasurable way. 

You felt both foolish for having been so blind and in denial all this time, but at the same time relieved to have finally been able to put a word to all these things, to finally have a clear vision of the situation. 

The only thing you couldn't control, and wouldn't control, would be the boys' reaction when you admitted to them that you were an omega. Because yes, now that the end of exams had arrived, and on top of that, you were going to be entitled to two weeks' rest, you were going to have to tell them (part of) the truth. You'd promised yourself you'd do it, you couldn't back out. Especially as your next heat could come at any moment. 

Perhaps that's also where the stress came from, that uncertainty, that lack of knowledge about the coming heat you were so worried about, about how you were going to manage it, about...

"Y/N... you're overthinking again."

You bite your lips nervously, shaking her head with a nervous smile. 

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry… I guess it’ll be better at the end of the day !”

Jin shook his head with a chuckle, and his face changed quickly from a most serious one, maybe the most serious face she had seen since she met him. 

“I’m sure it’s more than just… this exam, but you won’t talk to us, nor Jimin. You know we could never leave you, or judge you, no matter what it is ?”

So they all noticed you were acting differently, didn't they? Of course, they could. You weren’t the best to hide when something was wrong. And even if you were, Jimin could read you like an open book. And you did not doubt that he would have later confided to his partners. 

“I know, and it’s the same for me, I just… need to get done with this exam first.” you began, your voice trembling, “I know I haven't been... the most agreeable person lately, and I'm sorry for that, sincerely…”

You looked away, for some reason feeling your eyes sting, as if you wanted to cry. 

“Hey, hey, listen... look at me, please,” Jin's hands rested delicately on your cheeks. He waited patiently, and resumed once your eyes met, “You don't have to apologize, we all go through moments more tense, more difficult than others that make us more tense and nervous, no one here holds it against you, believe me.”

You nodded. He wiped the few tears from your eyes and leaned to place his lips on your forehead. And it's a good thing you had a certain amount of self-control, that you could restrain your actions, your desires, and your impulses, because the only craving you had right now when you felt Jin's soft lips against your forehead, was to raise your face and have your lips meet his. 

It was the hardest thing you'd ever had to do. 

“Ah, I have an idea !” he exclaimed as he stepped back, leaving you with a very unpleasant feeling of emptiness, “I'll drive you to your class, we'll go through the café, and Yoongi will give you croissants and coffee for you, Minnie, Kook' and Hobi!”

You blinked several times, not taking your eyes off him while he moved into your apartment to grab your bag.

“Wait!” You called out as you grabbed his arm, “I thought Yoongi didn’t want to be disturbed before the opening?” 

"Oh don't worry, we’ll be quick. Plus if it's you he won't say anything." Jin shrugged with a smirk as he handed her her bag, “You know, he doesn't show it, but he has a soft spot for you.”

You raised your eyes to the sky, trying to prevent your body from betraying you, but you couldn't. You could already feel your face and ears heating up. You knew Yoongi's temperament; he had his own way of showing affection to the people he loved. You also didn't doubt that he cared for you, but to use the word “soft spot”... 

“You're blushiiing...” Jin suddenly teased. 

“I'm not!” you exclaimed as you walked past him with your head down hiding any hints of blush if there were one, “Let's go! I don't want to be late!"

You didn't want Jin to be able to see what effect this was having on you, what effects they all were having on you. And that damn body that would only betray you... the coward! 

“Yes ma'am!” Jin couldn't hold back his giggle and stepped out with you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. The warmth of his embrace, his very singular scent didn't help your mood at all. “Aaah what are we going to do with you, little tsundere!”

“I'm not a... argh, you know what, never mind!” 

You didn't know why, but you had a feeling it was going to be a very long day. 

°°°

When you arrived at the dance hall less than an hour later, you quickly spotted Hoseok, Jungkook, and Jimin chatting with each other. Jungkook was the first to spot you and waved to you with his eternal big smile that melted you every time. 

You looked around for San and Wooyoung, remembering the day before that Wooyoung told you that some of the second and senior-year students would be there to watch the first years, which added a layer of stress because some of them, being alphas, were the ones who had almost harassed you to be an omega at the beginning of the year. 

But as you and Wooyoung had said to each other in the café when you first met: "We'll take the opportunity to nail all those pretentious alphas who like to spend their lives looking down on us!" 

And that was your main motivation right now. 

"Noona! We're here!" he exclaimed, drawing the attention of several students to you, which you decided to ignore because all their attention would be on you in about a dozen minutes anyway. 

"Oh great pastries!" exclaimed Jimin, taking the box from your hands as you handed it to him, "They're from Yoongi hyung!"

"Thank god, I love him so much, I'm starving..." muttered Jungkook who didn't wait to open the box and take out a cupcake which he bit into instantly. 

“Oh, you have Jin's scent on you...” Hoseok didn’t seem to be interested in pastries and approached you. You almost had the impression he was humming you quickly. "Hey, you're wearing his hoodie!”

You and Jin had gone to the café where Yoongi was already, and as Jin had told you earlier, Yoongi's face, initially shut and ready to scold Jin by reminding him that he didn't like to be disturbed in the morning, had immediately softened on seeing you appear beside him. Jin noticed this immediately and didn't stop himself from pointing out that he'd been right by giving you a little nudge on the shoulder and a chuckle, making you grumble as you did your best not to blush again. 

Yoongi of course understood why Jin had brought you along, because like everyone else, he knew that this day was important for Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, and you. 

He didn't ask any questions, he didn't even say a word. He just walked away and packed some pastries he knew you or the boys would enjoy, and you even noticed that he'd slipped a Strawberry Shortcake into the box, your favorite.  

When he walked to you and handed you the box, you could have sworn he brushed his fingers against yours on purpose, sending a long shiver down your spine. But he didn't notice, or so you hoped because even if he did, you didn't see any reaction from him. 

Once back in Jin's car, you noticed that you'd forgotten your jacket at the apartment, and unfortunately, you didn't have time to go home again. Jin hadn't hesitated to give you his hoodie, a café-au-lait-colored hoodie that was far too oversized for you, and you were floating in it, which made him laugh.  

The reason you couldn't say no was his smell. Like all of them, Jin had a very particular scent, very sweet but very strong, which invaded your whole being the moment the hoodie's fabric settled on your body. That same warmth returned to your stomach and probably also to your face, but Jin couldn't see it since you'd pulled the hood over your head. 

How could a simple piece of clothing make you feel so safe? 

“Noona? Noona!” Jungkook’s voice startled you, “Is everything fine? Don’t tell me you’re stressed!”

You blinked a few times and noticed your four friends staring at you, Jimin looking a little more worried than the others. Perhaps because he knew you best. 

“Ah yes, yes I’m fine!” you assured with a small smile, "Of course I'm stressed, not to be would be a sign of recklessness!"

"Well, I'm not really..."

"That's exactly what I'm saying!" you exclaimed, cutting off Hoseok who just couldn't help but laugh, "Ah and yes it's Jin's hoodie, I forgot my jacket at the apartment..."

"You could have asked me, I would have given you mine," Jimin muttered before receiving a small elbow from Hoseok. You looked at him, confused, and rubbed the back of your head with a shy smile. 

"You can give it to me if you want. No, wait... that's not what I meant..." you frowned, more to yourself, and tried to hide the heat wave by imagining yourself having not only Jin's scent but also Jimin's on you. 

"Oh no? What did you mean then?" Jungkook leaned towards her with a small smirk, "If you want I can pass you mine too, and I'm sure Hobi will do the same!" 

You frowned as you realized that Jungkook was starting to tease you, suspicions confirmed when Hobi also tapped him on the shoulder. But the mere idea of being surrounded by all the smells of your roommates and friends was enough to send a wave of warmth through your lower belly and your whole being. 

You had to change the subject, avoid the conversation going any further, or maybe find Wooyoung... 

Just when you needed it most, Wooyoung came up behind you and almost jumped on your back, snatching a laugh in the process. 

"Yo, did you miss me?" said Wooyoung in a cheerful tone who had his arm wrapped around your shoulder, he turned to your three friends and greeted them, a thin smile on his lips as he saw Jimin's reaction. It had reached the point where Wooyoung liked to make fun of Jimin's reactions, as he was the one who was the most protective of you, and according to Wooyoung, even jealous and possessive. But you still refused to believe it, being 100% certain that Jimin felt nothing but deep friendship. 

"You can't even imagine," you said ironically, rolling your eyes before grabbing Wooyoung's wrist and pulling you away from your three friends, "there's one last thing we need to discuss, good luck for later!"

"If you think we need luck..." chuckled Jungkook, making you roll your eyes at him again.  

You quickly walked away with Wooyoung, isolating yourselves in a corner of the dance hall, before letting out a long sigh.

"Wow, you don't look good, tense? Don't worry, we'll handle it!"

"Partly, but not only, there's something really weird going on..." 

You quickly told Wooyoung what had happened with Jin, then your reaction to your previous conversation with Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok. 

He remained silent for a few seconds after your explanation, before simply shrugging his shoulders. 

"It's a common thing with omegas, it's called a nest. Well, it's not a nest, but your behavior bears a strong resemblance to one." 

Seeing your confusion, Wooyoung gave a little laugh, not a mocking laugh, but an affectionate one, because indeed, you had a lot to learn. 

He then explained to you that a nest is usually a place where an omega can be comfortable and relaxed, whether they are in heat or just having a bad day. It mostly is the omega’s couch, filled with soft things, the most smelling like their mates if they have one. When they are mated, omegas can share their nest with their partner. 

"But that's the basic definition, made by idiots who like to put us in cases. It's happened very often with us that one of our alphas made a nest himself, because as long as it comforts them, why does it have to be only for omegas?" 

You nodded and smiled. Well, of course, Wooyoung was right, and when you learned this, you wondered why you'd never heard of what a nest was before today. Having grown up in an all-alpha family, a very closed-minded family at that, you weren't surprised that they didn't practice this sort of thing. Thinking back to your mother and sister, you realize that they could both use a little bit of it. As well as a good therapy.

"So that means it's not a sign that I'm going into heat?" you asked, a long sigh of relief leaving your lips as Wooyoung nodded. "Good, I wish I could tell them before it happens, I wouldn't like to... force it on them you know." 

"I understand, don't worry. Are you planning to tell them today?" 

You'd had a long talk with him the day before, about your decision to tell Jimin and your friends that you were an omega, to tell them the whole story. 

"Don't forget that if anything goes wrong, our door is wide open to you! Hongjoong hyung will welcome you with open arms, even though I'm sure everything will go perfectly!"

Wooyoung's optimism could be contagious at times. But he was right, you shouldn't think about the negative, you knew your friends after all, and you knew Jimin better than anyone else in this world. They wouldn't reject you for that. 

You hadn't had time to reply, the teachers, and a few senior students, including San, entered the room. The first-year students fell silent, knowing that the serious part was just about to begin. 

°°°

"Wait, you're first?!"

Jungkook exclaimed, looking at the grade board a few hours later. He turned to Wooyoung and you, as did several students who whispered words you didn't even understand. 

Slowly, you walked over to the board and looked at the sheet of paper on which the grades were written.

Jungkook Jimin and Hoseok were second. It had to be said that their performance was incredible. They had successfully mixed their solo and trio performances, creating a highly original tableau while respecting the given instructions. 

But apparently, the teachers preferred you and Wooyoung's performance. Even if there were only five small points that set you apart from your friends. 

A week before the exam, you and Wooyoung came up with the idea of teaching each other's solo choreography to the other. The solo instruction was that the creation had to be original and from the student himself, and there was no indication that the duo dance partner couldn't participate. Several of you had this idea in your class.

It seems this technique had paid off because you were now top of the class. 

"I don't believe it... Y/n pinch me please," asked Wooyoung in a whisper, before letting out a little scream as you obeyed. "Hey, that hurts!"

"You asked me to pinch you!" you exclaimed, turning to face him. 

"But it wasn't serious! Ah, we're first noona, we made it!" Wooyoung's face lit up and he took you in his arms, making you burst into a frank laugh, but also a way of letting out all the stress accumulated over the last few weeks. 

You hugged Wooyoung for a few seconds, unable to hide your joy and relief at having achieved such a formidable accomplishment, knowing the talented dancers in your group. Of course, you couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction at being able to rise above Jimin and your friends. 

You, who'd always had that imposter syndrome when dancing alongside talented dancers like Jimin, Jungkook, and Hoseok, seeing your name inscribed in front of theirs made you realize that you belonged here, that you deserved it, like them, like Wooyoung.

San called Wooyoung, who jumped into his arms and couldn't help but share his joy with his boyfriend. San hugged him back, praising him. He stretched out his hand to you, and you gave him a high five as he winked at you.

"Noona!"

You turned to Jimin, who was walking towards you with a smile like you'd never seen before. Behind him, Jungkook and Hoseok seemed to be just as happy for you, and that only made your heart beat faster. 

You'd always known that between you and Jimin, there'd never been any competition, but you'd had this little thought that maybe Jungkook and Hoseok wouldn't be like him, and you were so relieved to find out that you were wrong. 

“It’s amazing, you are amazing!”

Jimin couldn't resist taking you in his arms, hugging you tightly. This time, you couldn't refuse this hug, you needed it. The stress of the last few weeks was fading away, and you missed your best friend's touch more than ever. 

Anyway, you'd tell them tonight that you were an omega, you didn't want to hide anymore.

°°°

Or maybe, you could wait a little more? 

Because now that you were probably a few minutes before telling (one of) the deepest secrets you ever had, you didn’t know if it was a good idea. 

They were all here, you were all in Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi’s apartment. They had decided to order a multitude of dishes and side dishes, which you shared on the coffee table. At the center of the table was a large bouquet made by Taehyung himself, who couldn't help himself when he heard how well Jungkook, Jimin, and Hoseok and you'd done. 

“Y/N please, don't forget us when you'll be one of Beyoncé's main dancers, okay? I'd love to have an autograph!”

You nearly choked on your soda at Jin's remark, causing general hilarity. 

“I don't want to dance for Beyoncé!” you couldn't help but laugh despite it, and you got up to grab a towel from the kitchen to wipe yourself off, “ah I swear Jin... you do have an imagination...”

You rolled your eyes as you heard them still laughing and joking about it. From the kitchen, you had a perfect view of the living room and your friends. They were eating, laughing, and teasing each other. There was no negativity in the room. You didn't want to risk ruining it now. But at the same time, you told yourself that if you didn't do it now, you'd never have the courage to do it again. You'd then have your heat without the ability to hide it, things could then degenerate one way or another, and you could lose them forever. 

The thought only was enough to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Hey Y/N, everything okay?”

Yoongi's voice startled you, and you realized that he had joined you in the kitchen. The others didn't seem to have noticed your sudden tension, too busy with their conversations, unlike him. 

You didn't answer, just stared at him blankly at first, and could read the worry in his eyes, but also that little spark of gentleness that was so peculiar to him, a look that could give courage to anyone for whom it was intended. That look meant “You can do it, everything will be all right.” 

It was the same feeling you had when you spoke to Jin earlier this morning, except that Jin passed it on with his words. 

Your heart beat too fast, your mouth went dry. You had to do it. 

Without breaking eye contact, you finally opened your lips, and the words came out slowly, in an insecure, trembling voice. 

“I'm an omega.” 

The others didn't seem to hear you. Yoongi remained silent for a few seconds, without saying a word. Seconds that seemed to last an eternity. Seconds when you had time to imagine the worst possible scenarios, and he seemed to have guessed it.

It was only when he gently took your hand in his that you noticed it was shaking. 

“I know.” he murmured in a soft, reassuring voice, seeing your eyes widened with surprise and confusion, he shook his head with a small laugh, ” Later.”

You opened your mouth to reply but soon saw Jimin's face in your sight. 

“Noona! What's the matter? Are you alright? Did you burn yourself? you-”

“Jimin, let her talk, will you?”

This time it was Namjoon who had spoken, his voice sounding just as reassuring as Yoongi's. Everyone had fallen silent and was staring at you. You looked at each of them, ending with Jimin, whose gaze was filled with unspeakable concern.

You felt a slight pressure on your hand from Yoongi, who wanted to give you the courage to go for it. 

So, like with him, you did your best to gather your thoughts, to coordinate your voice and the words that should come from your lips.

“I... I am an Omega...”

Unfortunately, your voice was shakier than the first time. You couldn't help feeling even more ridiculous as you felt your eyes sting with tears.

“I am sorry... truly sorry I... I didn't mean to hide it...” you managed to articulate, ”I thought I was a beta until... recently and... I panicked.” you take a deep breath as you squeeze Yoongi's hand a little tighter, ”I'll understand if you're angry with me, if you don't want to be friends anymore or...”

“Don't be ridiculous!” 

You recognized Jimin's voice and embrace, which came suddenly, but which you accepted with barely hidden relief. His voice was shaking.

“You're my best friend, the most important person in my life as if that could change over something as trivial as that!”

You couldn't hold back a tear that ran down your cheek. Tear that couldn't finish its way when Yoongi ran his finger over your cheek to wipe it away. 

“It doesn't matter if you're an omega, an alpha, or a beta. You're our Y/N, we love you just the way you are!” exclaimed Jungkook, who sounded just as relieved as Taehyung and Jin. 

Namjoon nodded with a small smile and approached you. You had trouble seeing him, as Jimin had decided to cling to you. 

“It happens frequently actually. You think you are an alpha, and it turns out you're a beta, or an omega, or the other way around.” He explained, placing his hand on your hair as you acquiesced, which he began to stroke in a way that was intended to be gentle and reassuring. 

“You all don’t seem that surprised…” you said as you remembered words a few minutes ago, and when you heard Jungkook cough, you turned to him, confused. 

“I… I heard you a few weeks ago, you were on the phone with Wooyoung… Yoongi hyung heard me and we told the others…”

Ok, this one you didn't see it coming. But in the end, it doesn’t matter anymore. 

“Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jimin finally asked, looking at you curiously, and somewhat a little hurt by your silence, which you thought was totally valid. 

“Minnie, can you let go of her ?” Hoseok asked with a little laugh. 

“No, I have months of hugs to catch up !” he exclaimed, his grip on you tightening a little, making the others sigh. But you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. You didn’t mind it at all. You need it more than anything right now.

Oh how you missed his embrace, his warmth, his scent all over you. It felt so good, so right to be in his arms. It felt like where you should be. 

It felt like home.

“I didn't tell you because... when I saw the disgust... the disappointment in my mother's eyes...” You shook your head, swallowing back your tears, “That's why she asked me not to come anymore. I couldn't have supported... I couldn't have supported losing you too...” You looked at Jimin who held you closer to him, "to lose you all..."

Admitting these words out loud was harder than you thought. You weren't the kind of person to talk openly about your feelings, fears, and anxieties. 

“I don't want things to change, I don’t want you to treat me differently...”

You bit your lower lip. Your heart was beating a hundred miles. 

“I hope I never have to meet your parents,” Hoseok said in a cold voice you'd never heard from him, and strangely you found it oddly seductive.

“What a bunch of assholes,” Taehyung said disdainfully.

“I'm not even going to correct you this time. What a bunch of jerks.” Jin shook his head, frowning.

“Look, who cares? You're an omega, so what? Is this about your heat? We'll find a way to deal with it, just like we do with our ruts. We don't care, that's not the most important.” Namjoon smiles affectionately at you, “The main thing is that you feel comfortable with us, that we're all comfortable with each other, that's how a pack works after all, isn't it?”

This time, you hid your face against Jimin's shoulder, unable to hold back your tears any longer. 

“Wait... did I say something wrong?” Namjoon asked somewhat panicked, making the others laugh, even you, between sobs. 

“Don't worry, some stress to relieve.” Yoongi grabbed Namjoon's hand, kissing his cheek at the same time, before moving back to the sofa. “She’s fine now, everything will be fine from now on.”

“Ah Noona, I was so scared!” Taehyung exclaimed as he came around to hug you from behind, his torso pressing against your back. 

All these weeks, all this stress, this tension, this constant fear of living through this fateful moment had just come to an end tonight. 

Wooyoung had been right, once again. Things couldn't have gone better. 

Perhaps there was still the feelings thing, but for the moment, you didn't want to think about it. You just wanted to enjoy this moment, this acceptance you'd never had before today. You just wanted to enjoy Jimin's warmth, which you'd missed so much, and Taehyung's, and even Jungkook, who'd added to the hug somehow. 

As Jimin said, he didn't let go of you all evening, snuggling up to you like a Koala to its branch. You don't remember how the evening ended, except that you found yourself lying in a bed between Hoseok and Jimin. 

And for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, you slept a nightmare-free sleep, your heart and soul as light as they'd ever been. 

[mistress-of-vos]

I'd make a longer post (and maybe one day I will) but since Lore Olympus, the story that introduced me to webtoons is coming to an end I'd like to say something:

I can't believe it is considered problematic. It has to be one of the sweetest, fluffiest, simplest stories I have read (hence why I still like it, it's a relaxing read before bed) and somehow it got too "kinky" for mainstream. It's laughable.

Everytime I dare to click on their tag or look for the # on Twitter or FB I see people clutching their pearls as if Lore Olympus were brainwashing teenagers into marrying a non existent God of the dead and have babies with him. What the hell?

The fact that people think LO is too dark makes me laugh. A single episode of Rick&Morty, BoJack Horseman or HQS has way more explicit content and dialogue. In fact!!! If it were up to me LO would have gotten genuinely kinky!!! All it does is have some surface spicy tropes that get sugar coated to not make puritans awkward and tbh that's sad. LO and the author get terribly hated anyway for daring to portray the most common female fantasy.

And this all makes me laugh but also mad because you'd think LO at least has some genuine dark themes but no? At most we have Persephone's trauma due to Apollo's abuse and yet that topic is treated as a therapy pamphlet because people couldn't handle an imperfect victim. Hades is a wife guy who shows little to no anger. Hera was re written to be sort of a feminist so that people stopped being annoying about women having emotions.

LO is a sweet, simple story with tiny spicy things here and there that were eventually pushed aside because people couldn't handle it. I wonder how Rachel feels about this, because at the beginning the story was extremely spicy and the only crime was being published in a platform as webtoon, full of people who can't differentiate reality from fiction.

Is LO a masterpiece? Idk! I enjoy the story, it's very self indulgent for me, but I won't go and analyze every detail to see how it should be labeled as it's not meant to be a perfect media. It's meant to be an entertaining, nice story of romance and it does that job very well. This need to demand perfect writing while also crucifying authors over "dark" themes is ridiculous and contradictory.

And I keep wondering, if these people loathe LO so much, why dedicate all that time to the infinte posts they make about how they would have told the story? And all those re tellings are boring! It's always "So Persephone and Hades won't ever kiss here because she's a lesbian. Also he doesn't appear at all. And Demeter isn't an abusive mom! Oh and everyone is ugly because gods shouldn't be beautiful! And Apollo isn't evil he's uwu baby. And no toxic relationships here, Zeus is a good husband!"

Sweet Gaia, you guys wouldn't handle Saint Seiya having Athena in the body of a teenage girl with big tits and who's constantly in the edge of breaking her virginity vows. This attitude screams of jealousy and puritanism and both are disgusting.

TLDR: LO being too problematic for people is both funny and annoying. I wished it actually were as kinky and dark as people insist it is. I'd pay for a toxic romance, but that being said, I LOVE it very much as it is and it's nice to have a re telling that, while not pretending to be loyal to mythology, didn't go for a route of sanitizing all the myths. I hope that once it ends haters will move on and let real fans and the author alone. 🙏