#better for me if everyone thinks i'm a closed book.... i'm really not but maybe i should be?

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 12: Work Shit

Today was such a shitty day. And for the most dumb-fuck reasons too. There was work drama in the morning so incredibly inane I am embarrassed to post about it in a pubic space but the tl;dr of it is that I had no opinions about the thing, but was still the brunt of others’ (an other’s really) annoyance about it. We kept saying ‘it’s not personal’ as we spoke harshly to each but it felt SO personal, and I just couldn’t get over it for pretty much the rest of the day. I am quite sure it wounded me more and affected me for longer than anyone else. I want to be like ‘please don’t do this to me, I am a sensitive flower, I am easily emotionally decimated’ but also like ‘I am not bothered at all (lying), I am strong and fine, I am above this, I am not engaging because there is nothing to engage with.’

Again, there was nothing to engage with. But it just made me feel so shitty. I still feel kind of sad even now, to be honest. I was so bummed out and tired that I took a nap as soon as I got home (after a bus ride sitting in front of someone who was yelling into their phone and kept saying ‘no one can hear me! It’s the bus!’—um? We can all hear you because it’s the bus?). There was probably nothing else for me to do but of course now I am up late because it takes a while to wake up again from a nap, then I am all riled up and easily distracted. So I will go to sleep at a stupid hour again, and also have accomplished nothing with my paltry post-work hours.

Fuck I’m so depressed. This is such a depressing train of thought.

Anyway, yesterday I mentioned at work that I had never seen a single episode of Doctor Who (this is the truth: I think I saw a partial episode on TV, but not even the whole thing) and this shocked my co-worker considerably. She said it was incredibly surprising of me or something of that nature. And I do not know how to take this. I mean, probably what she means is ‘you are known as someone who likes science fiction and is rather nerdy’ and these are true things and also positive reputations to have. But I have literally never given the slightest fuck about Doctor Who lmao. I can’t tell you why, but it obviously doesn’t feel weird to me that I don’t because I never have! Obviously I’ve been in a lot of spaces that are sort of Who-adjacent (fandom, tumblr, nerd-dom, crossover appeal with other stuff I like) but it’s never been tempting or intriguing at all. It’s not on my list.

What I said was just like… a non-answer that sounded like an answer based on my tone of voice. Like, ‘Hmmm, well I’ve seen a partial episode on TV and I’ve seen Torchwood.’ This is all true but does not at all address the surprise or the reasons of my not being interested. I was surprised by her surprise, I don’t have good reasons, and also all I could say would probably read as insulting to Who fans, one of whom was in the room.

I think part of it is, honestly, that my mom isn’t into Doctor Who, and so I did not have anyone getting me into it at a formative time. Not that people can’t get into Who independently and not that I haven’t gotten into things independently but I just… I really think that in this particular instance, if she had been into it, I would have been. My mom being into Torchwood is the reason I watched it (well… 2-ish seasons). She thinks Who is a kids’ show and while it’s probably more a family show, that opinion really influenced my non-desire to watch it.

Another part is that I’m sort of a sci-fi poser in a way. I hate to admit it but it’s true. I love that people think of me as a sci fi fan and I think of myself that way too but I am NOT well read. I’m more like an ST:TOS fan with aspirations to sci fi fandom. This isn’t to say I want to pick up Who (or Dune, the other piece of science fiction I was strangely assumed to be familiar with), but I do want to be more well-read in some classic sci fi literature, as well as be more aware of like modern sci fi stuff. Especially books. There are very few sci fi TV series that interest me. A couple but not a ton.

I also have a weird definition of science fiction which is, it’s science fiction if it FEELS like science fiction to me, personally, the arbiter of all things. Some media are in the sense that they can’t be anything else, I guess, but they don’t feel like science fiction to me and so I’m not interested, which is a weird and irrational and unreasonable thing for me to say, but it’s the middle of the night and I’m sad so there it is.

[1d1195]

The Lottery I

~3.7k words

From me: I thought I would close out 2024 with a mini-series. I'm hoping for shorter parts but I should be able to post on a regular basis (Mondays). You should see MANY similarities to my favorite show. I have been planning this one for over a year. I really hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: angst (?) fluff

Summary: Small towns have the biggest romances and the best view of the moon.

“I don’t know how you ended up there,” Bailey shook her head.

“Bails,” she laughed. “I Googled it. It’s cute.”

The little town was adorably cute. The kind of place where the Christmas-hating CEO female lead in the movie would fall head over heels for the place in a month because of the small-town charm. It was about thirty minutes outside the city but with traffic it could take up to an hour. It was quaint. The exact kind of place she could envision her little dream.

“Your house is good?” Bailey asked. She nodded, flipping the camera to show her the little place she found to live in. Two stories. But the second floor was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room for storage. Maybe in the right light it could be a small office, but it would be better holding all her books. The bottom floor was open. Living room, dining area, and a kitchen. Down the hall was another bathroom and her bedroom. Right now, it was filled with boxes and no clear markers for any of the rooms. Her furniture was misplaced—the table in the living room, the TV on top of it, the couch was near the kitchen, and the lamps were atop the counters in the kitchen.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.

Moving in was second to her priorities. So the boxes would stay, her clothes haphazardly falling out of boxes, the iron on top of the island in the kitchen to get the wrinkles out of her blouses. “Neighbors are good?”

“I’ve only met Edith and David. They’re about sixty-five years old and hilarious. Edith is insistent on having tea by the end of the week and David wants to set me up with his grandson.”

“I can’t imagine you outside the city,” Bailey sounded wistful.

“It’ll be good for me to be away from all the big lights. I missed the stars... and the moon,” her voice was filled with fondness. Like the moon was her old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.

“We could see the moon in the city,” Bailey reminded her.

It wasn’t just the moon, it was the stars, and silence that the city never allowed. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“You know babe...” Bailey trailed off. “You look... happy.”

She was. Really happy. The kind of happiness that couldn’t be faked because she was supposed to be happy. The kind of happiness that would make anyone jealous. And why shouldn’t she be happy? She was young, basically fresh out of college, ready to start her own business, and do everything she wanted on her own.

“I am happy,” she nodded and looked at her best friend through FaceTime. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Try not to let them be too mean to me. I’m... I’m good,” she promised. “This is good.”

“You know,” Bailey grinned and shook her head. “I think you’re right.”

*

She wore her lucky dress—the one that she is certain got her a scholarship—and chose a pair of flats over heels because in her quick self-tour of the town she noted the brick sidewalks were likely to take out her ankle. She made sure every single strand of her hair wasn’t out of place. She wanted this to be a good impression. All her books and shows told her that small towns were lovely, but she was an outsider. It was possible that they wouldn’t love a newcomer and so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was changing everything.

But since it was her first night in her new home, there was nothing to eat. Nor to cook with even if she wanted to. Maybe if she had a loaf of bread, she could find her toaster in one of the boxes. Moving on her own was tough but she was proud of herself. Another check she could mark on her to-do list.

Her first order of business was securing her business. However, that couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. She locked the door to the little home she now owned. The trim needed a coat of paint, and she desperately needed to buy a lawn mower. Some of the windows needed to be replaced. She tried opening one of them and nearly threw her back out. The bushes in front of the little porch needed to be trimmed or taken out altogether.

But it was home, and it was lovely. She was excited to do it on her own. It made her feel proud.

Her family was far away. Honestly, it was for the best. They thought it was a terrible idea for her to move, maybe because they couldn’t depend on her any longer. If she thought too long about it, she got upset. But this was good. She was doing what her grandma believed she could do. What her grandpa wanted her to do.

With a family far away, her place was filled with boxes. Hardly anything was unpacked. It was a miracle she found her lucky dress but perhaps that was why it was so lucky. With the distance between them, it was easier to ignore the group chat. Easier to not feel obligated to help her family.

They’re adults, honey. They’ll figure it out.

She hoped her grandma was right.

Her friends were still in the city. Completely shocked she left the hustle and bustle for a small-town place. Their lack of support or what they passed off as worry made her nervous all the same. How would it survive? But she researched the perfect place and took plenty of time setting up everything she needed so she was ready to go when she graduated.

The only thing she wished could be different, was that her grandparents got to see her.

*

The main part of town felt like a city. But way friendlier. People shouted in the middle of the road. Kids ran across the road to the school. There were very few cars but even the ones present parked illegally and the officer strolling the sidewalks didn’t pay any mind to it. It was adorable. It felt like she was in a Disney movie, and she wanted to sing.

The center green was being set up with seats and banners. People were on walkie-talkies directing more items about the area. The space was warm and cozy. Like where she could spend the day reading in the grass and have a picnic with herself or a friend.

God, she hoped she made some friends. It seemed possible. Everyone was so nice. They all knew each other. That was evident. It was so comforting, exactly the change she wanted and needed, and she prayed they wouldn’t hate her for trying to bring something new to their little place.

As her stomach reminded her once more of its presence and emptiness, she approached the diner on one side of the main street. Squished between the post office and a shoe store. Someone was exiting as she opened the door, so she gestured for them to exit before she proceeded. “Thank you, darling,” the man tipped his hat to her.

With one deep breath, she entered.

It was like she was the new girl at school. The second she crossed the threshold of the diner, everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a voice to be heard, the only sound coming from behind the counter in the kitchen. “Uh... hi,” she swallowed. Quietly, she made her way to the counter and situated herself at the end of it away from everyone else.

Sure, she wanted to be part of the community and wanted to be liked, but she didn’t want to force it. The place continued to be quiet, although the murmuring began. No doubt everyone whispered about her. “No newcomers lately, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath and pulled out her folder of paperwork to go over it again.

You’re going to crush it! Bailey’s message read. She smiled gratefully, feeling her heart slow. She was wearing her lucky dress. It was going to happen. She was going to be happy no matter what.

“Shit!” It was paired with the distinct sound of something shattering. She turned directly to the sound as did everyone else in the place and she was on her feet immediately. It wasn’t anything major, a coffee mug on the floor.

“Jesus, honey, watch it!” It was an older woman who scolded her husband with a light thwack on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to, Alice!”

“Harry!” Someone called.

“Jus’ a second,” the voice was from the back, low, almost like it didn’t want to be heard. He must have been cooking or something because there was a commotion in the back behind the kitchen door. She didn’t think much of it because she was worried that poor Alice and her husband were going to get hurt picking up the broken shards or slip in the mess of spilled coffee on the floor.

“I can help,” she offered and crouched near the older woman—Alice—as she struggled to grab the pieces. “Here,” she grabbed a rag off the counter even though she had never been there and it wasn’t her place to do so. Gently she pushed the broken pieces and coffee into a neat little pile sopping up the mess as best she could.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Alice chimed. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” she smiled politely.

“Did you just move here?” She asked. Perhaps that would satiate the whispering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where are you living?”

“Oh... um... Oak Street,” she stammered. It probably didn’t help her newness that she stammered. But her new address was new; she was still getting used to it.

“Oh, Holliston’s place! It’s a lovely home,” someone called from across the room.

“Y’don’t have t’do that,” it was the same voice that called from the back but now right next to her.

“Oh...” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. Did time seem to stop? That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t going to have a crush on the first guy she met on her first official day as a resident of the small town. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly looking up at him from her crouched position. “Happy to help and...” She stopped speaking again as he stared at her. His eyes were pretty, even if he looked grumpy. His mouth was set in a frown, and she noticed that once more everyone stopped speaking. “Sorry,” she said and stood, scooping the mess as best she could in her hands. Coffee dripped from the rag into the puddle at her feet. She could feel the splatter on her ankles, and she was nervous to look if she had ruined her shoes. It didn’t bother her, but she wasn’t sure she’d have time to head home and change before she went to the town hall.

Harry held out the tray for dirty dishes and she placed the rag, broken pieces of mug, and all into it. He dropped it on the counter about two spaces down from where her folder and purse remained. “Are you okay, ma’am?” She asked softly placing a gentle hand on her arm in a comforting kind of way.

“Alice, Ed, y’okay?” Harry—she presumed—was quiet. It almost rubbed her the wrong way that he repeated her, but he knew them, and she didn’t. So, she returned to her seat quietly after offering one more smile to Alice.

“All good, Harry,” Ed said in return.

Harry went back around the counter and fiddled with the coffee pot. He refilled a new mug and brought it over to Ed.  When he returned behind the counter he stood in front of her silently. Waiting. Not offering a word nor question.

Harry looked to be roughly her age. Handsome. If this was David’s grandson, she would have reconsidered his offer. But his scowl was to be desired. Made her uneasy. She wondered if this was how he always was or if it was something about her.

But she wanted to be liked. People generally didn’t dislike her. It would devastate her if he did. As grumpy as he seemed, she wasn’t going to shy away from her own personality. “Do y’want something?”

“What’s your favorite?” She asked glancing from the menu to him.

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a favorite.”

She blinked. He worked here. Did he own it? That would be crazy, he was so young. But she was young and about to own her business too. So who was she to judge his age? “How can you not have a favorite?”

“I like it all,” he shrugged.

“You seriously don’t have a favorite?”

“Since I own the diner,” he was explaining it like she was a toddler, “everything is good.”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. It wasn’t that she was one of those people who assumed everyone would like her, but it was... different to work for friendliness. Bailey told her she had the kind of face that would work wonders in sales. Everyone just opened up to her.

But not Harry. Harry was stoic as could be. It barely looked like he was breathing. Other than the irritation in his eyes, he had a really nice face. Smooth skin, angular jaw, and just pretty features that were probably wasted on someone so grumpy. But she could see something flicker in his eyes. Something that she wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see which is why it was merely a flicker.

Was this grumpy man amused? By her?

“...Do you have a recommendation then?”

“Anything. It’s all good,” he was clearly over this exchange.

She thought she could get him to budge but it didn’t seem that way. This was the fast track to nowhere. Not the impression she wanted to make on her first official day in town. Sighing, she glanced at the specials board. “You have peach pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have white chocolate chips?”

Harry sighed, exasperated with the conversation, and she hadn’t even ordered her coffee yet. “Yup...” he was staring at her like this was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill her.

“Can I have one of each? Peaches and white chocolate chip?”

“What?” He seemed surprised. Which was interesting because surely it couldn’t have been crazy. Peaches and white chocolate chips had to be popular if he had them. He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” She frowned.

“Because s’extra work t’make a whole batch of peachpancakes and chocolate chip. One or the other.”

Maybe it was his tone or her frustration. The nerves of heading to town hall after breakfast. The piss-poor impression she was making at the extremely local diner where everyone seemed to know Harry. Even though he was grumpy they still ate there. It was obvious this wasn’t their first day being there. They still called out for him when the mug shattered even though she was more than capable of helping.

But she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe if he had placated her or smiled. Or if he just didn’t look at her like she was the bane of his existence she wouldn’t have pressed. “But... I don’t want one or the other. I want one of each.”

“Get ‘em mixed together or don’t have ‘em,” he shrugged.

“But if I get them mixed together, the peaches will sink to one side or slide off all together. The chocolate chips always sink to the bottom. So the ratio in each bite will be off. I’ve tried it before; it just doesn’t blend well.”

“If I make y’one peach and one white chocolate chip, then all m’ratios will be off. I’ll have t’purchase different quantities of peaches and chocolate chips.”

“That seems a little dramatic for one plate of—"

“S’my diner! Jus’ order what’s on the menu or order four pancakes.”

“That’s absurd! I doubt I’ll even eat one whole pancake!”

Harry swallowed hard, his jaw flexing tight. Briefly he looked at the ceiling and then back at her. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Order what’s on the menu or don’t order at—"

“Fine! Two peach pancakes!”

Honestly, she has no idea why she was arguing in the first place. It was idiotic and childish but there was something about the grumpiness that was off-putting and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was solely because he didn’t seem to like her, and she was trying really hard to fit in and he was the only person she had met so far that was close to her own age. If she could get him to like her, then maybe she wouldn’t be friendless and lonely.

With another large sigh (like it was painful for him to be standing near her) he rolled his eyes and headed to the back to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t be surprised if he poisoned them.

The diner was still quiet, and she could feel eyes flicking over to her repeatedly, their gazes heating her up with knowledge she was being watched. To keep her cool, she continued flipping through her paperwork folder and scrolled on her phone.

About ten minutes later, Harry returned holding her plate. It was practically silent again. The show that ensued was not forgotten by the other customers. Harry failed to hide his interest in her paperwork and failed to hide the fact he was reading whatever was in front of her. It didn’t bother her, honestly. She wanted to be an open book. Especially in a small town and especially with the guy that looked beyond irritated with her.

Trying again was insanity. But she was nothing if not one for perseverance. “Do you know what time the town hall opens? I tried to find a time online but—"

Harry snorted. “Town Hall doesn’t do online. S’whenever Sutton gets there t’unlock.”

She blinked. Small towns. “When’s that?”

“Usually before nine-thirty.”

“Usually?”

Harry shrugged, placing the plate in front of her. She could smell cinnamon and maple. Of course, the peaches were starting to caramelize as well and so it really looked utterly delicious. “Sometimes he forgets his alarm. Then s’before ten-thirty.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Alright,” she nodded. “Hey,” she called quietly as Harry turned to leave. “Do you do tabs? I’m probably going to be here every morning before work. It’s fine if you don’t. Just... figured it would easier.”

Did it get even quieter? Harry had a way with sighing. Heavily. Like talking to her and thinking were the two greatest and hardest tasks he’d ever been given in his life. Her eyes quickly darted around the place. There were enough tables to seat about twenty people plus five seats at the counter. It was busy—not crowded or full, but busy. It was just after the morning commute group had left; she had to imagine. The hustle of the nine-to-five crowd was long gone. “Sure,” he shook his head. “Every Friday.”

She was certain she didn’t imagine it that time. The entire place was silent for another ten seconds before the low murmur picked up again.

“Okay, thank you. I just... moved into town and I had no food at my house.”

“Whose house?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Whose house did y’buy?”

“Oh... uh... the Holliston’s?” Was that the name someone said a few moments ago? It had to be because no one corrected her, and it was apparent everyone was listening to her to talk to Harry.

“Nice couple,” she supposed she got it right then. “Do you want coffee?” He asked.

Was this him warming up to her? It was interesting. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t arguing. Which she liked. Although arguing with him was kind of... fun in its own way. But she needed a friend before she argued with him for hours on end.

“Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please. Thank you.” Was it hot in there? Harry was attractive—even if he was grumpy. A sour face usually turned her off immediately. But with Harry... it didn’t seem so grumpy anymore. Especially now that he stopped arguing with her. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. His frown turned to a more neutral expression. She swore that flicker of amusement was back again. “This is a really cute town,” she remarked.

Harry ignored the comment as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee and placed a little plate of cream and sugar packets beside it. “What brings y’here?” He asked. She did hear his skepticism like maybe he was going to kick her out before she unpacked if she wasn’t good enough for the clique-y village.

“Oh,” she swallowed. “I’m hoping to open a book shop.”

Harry tilted his head at her, surprise all over his face and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why that would be. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. Approval? Was she in the club? “Alright, well... welcome, I guess. Let me know if y’need help with the water at y’house. It always gave the Holliston’s trouble in the winter, and I’d have t’go over and fix it. Don’t want y’pipes t’freeze.”

That was it. He walked away. She watched the grumpy, attractive man tend to the tables, cleaning, and serving all by himself. The others were patient. There was no rushing to get to work like it was Starbucks and everyone quietly waited their turn. There wasn’t a lot of small talk with Harry, but people smiled at him. Like they knew him from the time he was a baby. Maybe they did.

She hoped he would warm up to her. It would be nice to have a friend like him.

Turning to her breakfast, she cut into both pancakes stacked on top of one another, brought a bite of the two little pieces to her mouth after drowning it in enough maple syrup to make the man look at her suspiciously from across the room.

There was no way someone was that concerned about ratios of one patron. He could be grumpy all he wanted, but Harry was dramatic too. (Even if it was way more syrup than she needed, and he probably had a point in worrying about syrup—especially if she was going to be there every day.)

But as the bite hit her tastebuds, she had to look down and see it for herself.

One pancake was peach and the other was white chocolate chip.

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[hedgehog-moss]

Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏

Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.

• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:

• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.

• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:

• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.

Also I love this review:

• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)

The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .

• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...

• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.

• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)

• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.

• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.

The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.

Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)

• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)

(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")

• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.

• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:

• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."

• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:

I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.

[sophsicle]

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[stxrvel]

disclosure (6)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. platonic ot7 x f!reader for now content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, angst, reader becomes sus, fighting (in the wrong way), angry and mean jin? self-doubt. a/n. hi guysssssss!!! sorry it's taking me this long always, but i finally finished this part! i actually just finished it and it's almost 2am and i have to go to work in fivehours. i'm publishing this part as it is and maybe tomorrow if i have the time i'll look at it again, bc i'm really exhausted right now. and also please forgive me if there are any mistakes in the text;((((. but i hope you guys enjoy this 7k monster of a chapter and i'll see you next time!!

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The fourth book of your saga was a reflection of everything you had gone through when you moved with your family to the capital. You finished the third book when you had barely been in the city for a month and maybe that's why it didn't have a happy ending and why everyone who had read the trilogy had been devastated with that ending. It wasn't something you had planned from the beginning, but it wasn't something that ruined the plot either. It was actually much better than you had planned.

And when you finally finished with the trilogy, starting to write again wasn't hard, especially with so many mixed emotions and so much repressed pain coming back to the surface uninvited.

Maybe you hadn't been in connection with your strong feelings since then, when the city constantly reminded you that you had lost the only people you considered your true friends and the pain of their absence and the harsh reality was a knife burying itself in your chest over and over again. You hadn't felt this much since the moment you realized that they were able to live their lives without you, but you had to go through the mourning of losing them.

You hadn't felt this much since then, until that moment when, having been just a day since you had decided you would take the path of healing, you had to reopen the draft of your fourth book and find all those angry paragraphs, spit out words, piled up letters and whole pages filled with pure rage and pain; of disappointment and realization… of betrayal.

“Are you going to start again already? Don't you think you deserve a break?”

The words Yuna had spoken to you that morning were echoing in your head from the moment you read the first words of this draft and the memories began to well up, emotions making your hair stand on end and your throat close up.

It was almost funny to remember how incredibly angry you were when you first arrived in the city.

The city, with posters of Jungkook's face on every corner, with his performances on some screens or just teenagers talking about him and whispering about his music, it was practically impossible to escape it. The city, with radios blaring Yoongi's songs, in a cab or on public transportation, interviews blaring on TVs in shopping malls. The city, with the international news, which echoed so much, about the spectacular promises of modeling. The country couldn't be prouder to have representatives of that caliber, because the moment Taehyung and Jimin overtook the West and broke the international barrier, it was only a matter of time before the others followed suit and completely changed the idea of entertainment and media in the country.

The first months in the city were nauseating, when you had to get used to and overcome your emotions the hard way, fighting against the aggressive tide that all the time tried to drown you, and that was noticeable in every word and every scene of that book, and you were almost sure that if any of them read it, they would know immediately. If they wanted to know anything about you, if they were really interested, there would be no better way than through your books; in no other situation would you be so vulnerable.

You wondered, for a moment, if any of them would have read any of the books by now. If Namjoon would remember when you asked him for strange words to describe emotions and now they were captured in those impressions, or when you asked Jin and Hoseok for their opinion about the complex construction of your world and each of their peculiar and crazy details can be found in those pages. Just as your books had all the pieces of you, it also had crumbs of them, and you wondered if they would notice if they read it.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

Maybe you do. That's why you had decided to close that cycle once and for all, and there was no better way to do it than to finally start with the edition of this book. Of this fourth book, so strong in its toughness and determination, so vulnerable in its rage and palpable pain.

It was the cleanest and purest and truest version of you.

But as much as you deserved it, it felt more like punishment. Reliving those emotions and evoking those memories caused you more anguish and you didn't know if you could face a kind of shock therapy like that to finally let go.

“The editors said you'd be here.”

You saw Choi Dohyun standing, leaning against the door frame above the computer screen that still displayed the title of the first chapter of your fourth book. On a Wednesday at barely eight o'clock in the morning, the great CEO decided to set aside a few minutes of his busy time to gratify you with his presence.

His calm, serene and carefree expression was the contrast to the swirl of emotions that ran through that room, rising from the crown of your head. You could almost tell he wasn't venturing into the office because he could feel the tension radiating from your position at the desk. He must have even seen it on your face.

You sighed and barely waved at him, running your hands over your face, trying to ease your tense muscles a little.

“Is there a specific reason why you don't want the editors to read the book?”

Choi Dohyun was a mystery. You only knew about him from the three-hour conversation you had the day before, besides the strange looks he cast at Yoongi from his office entrance. He had shown himself to be a very open person and it was clear that he was an expert at making things work his way. You knew he had agreed to many of your conditions because what he would get in return was bigger than what it would cost him, which really wasn't too much, just enough to maintain a level of creative freedom that would allow you to access editorial support when you saw fit —because you knew that once you handed it over, it would no longer be entirely yours—and often businessmen reflected their own personalities in how they negotiated a deal.

Dohyun tried to come across as a fairly personable person; he tried to be understanding, communicative and open-minded, so much so that he reminded you of the comfortable security of an older brother. However, you could tell in that meeting that he held back too much; that he had hated the way Yuna used to interrupt him to ask him questions or how your brother would put too many buts in his mouth and try to get information out of him that he shouldn't give away. You could tell he was impatient, that he really expected the meeting to last less than twenty minutes because he was sure you would sign the contract blindly as soon as you saw the profits you'd gain from the distribution and sale of your books. You also noticed, in case it wasn't obvious already, that he preferred to be in control as long as the situation and the people around him allowed it, for his convenience. If he gave in on several occasions, you knew it had been because he was very, very aware of everything that benefited him.

There were two options: Choi Dohyun wore a mask constantly, or Choi Dohyun was a fraud.

“I just wanted to read it one more time… before handing it over. I won't take long.”

“It's okay. No problem.” Dohyun finally walked into the room, the office he had handed you for whenever you decided to go to his publishing house. You didn't even know writers had that option; you didn't know if it was common, but he allowed it. He had also offered you a writing kit that included a typewriter that looked quite expensive, and although you hadn't accepted it, there it was in one of the corners of the office. Dohyun sat across from you, glancing at the few things you had brought from home to make the place a little more pleasant. “I understand that sometimes it's hard to separate yourself from your work. It's a part of you, after all. A kind of vulnerability that not everyone sees.”

That was the kind of thing that kept Dohyun's true nature a mystery. His stoic expression as he blurted out words of comfort. It almost felt like running sandpaper over cement. Not that you needed to figure him out, because at the end of the day he was a boss of sorts and you two were bound by a contract with mutual economic benefits —technically, you were each there for a benefit of your own— but it was something you wanted to be aware of, watchful of, informed of, because you had no way of knowing this guy wouldn't try to take advantage of some situation later, in any possible scenario.

“Yes…”

“Take as much time as you need. The demand for the trilogy is still pretty high, after all.”

You nodded at him in response, wary of his attempt to lighten the mood. If he was the kind of person you thought he was, he surely knew you didn't feel an ounce of trust towards him.

“In just two days you must have quite a bit of work to do with that,” you tried to continue the conversation, interspersing your gaze over the letters on the screen and his dark eyes.

“But it's a very welcome work. Aren't you glad your books were so well received?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, momentarily remembering the proud look on Yuna and your brother's face when they finally got you to see the reactions and opinions of your books on social media. “It's comforting. For your work to be appreciated, recognized… moreover, that it allows you to make a living from it. It's amazing and a very great privilege.”

Dohyun shook his head in assent, interlacing his fingers over his abdomen. From his nonchalant way of taking a seat across from you, slumped over the chair almost as if he was an old friend from college and not practically your boss, and from how his voice reflected that sense of calmness and confidence, you could almost tell he was perfectly selling the facade of the most trustworthy person in the world.

But ultimately it was your feeling and your need to automatically distrust anyone you met because you didn't know at what point they would try to take advantage of you or turn their back on you, and maybe Dohyun wasn't as bad a person as you wanted to paint him in your head. Maybe you would even accept that his presence was a bit comforting and that he actually reminded you of someone you used to know in the past and of whom currently, if you knew he was still alive, it was by sheer luck. That personality, that sense of security he conveyed and that way he had had of expressing himself to you in that meeting that showed a different and more mature kind of wisdom, indeed reminded you of someone else.

Dohyun was very, very much like Jin.

“Can I… ask you something?” you hesitated, alternating your gaze between the screen and his dark eyes, not quite sure if you wanted to go down that path, but aware that you would get something in return if you did, and perhaps the risk would be worth it. “But it's not related to… this.”

As you pointed to your computer and the rest of the office, you couldn't decipher what expression Dohyun sketched. Trying to read him like you did everyone else, it seemed he entertained a specific train of thought in his head and was sparked by your question, but you couldn't probe much further because he agreed, tilting his head to invite you to ask bluntly.

“How do you know Min Yoongi?”

Dohyun then lifted his chin and his lips curved into a sort of small smile that could more accurately be described as a grimace. With his eyes on the window, with the beautiful view of the city and its busy streets, Dohyun took his time to answer and his pleased and almost satisfied look gave you to understand that your question was not a surprise at all. Dohyun could take it simply as healthy curiosity, for after all Yoongi was a celebrity and there weren't many people around the country who couldn't recognize him and you literally saw him face to face.

However, of course, there was something about his attitude that felt different. He wasn't surprised by your question, it was true, but maybe not for the reason you thought.

“He's a friend of my best friend.” Dohyun finally answered, returning your gaze, a glint of amusement highlighting his dark eyes. “I met him a couple of years ago through him, who is also his best friend. Otherwise, I doubt we would've ever met.”

Ah, Dohyun had a best friend who was best friends with Yoongi. That could only mean one thing.

“Ah. Then your best friend is part of the seven kings.”

Dohyun raised his eyebrows, clearly amused by your choice of words and the permanence of that haunting smile and the glint in his eyes should've been warning enough. He had the posture, demeanor and speech of a person who knew he was in control of the situation. Whatever his purpose was in entertaining this conversation, you already knew you were involved in that reason, indirectly.

Dohyun knew something about you that you had no idea about.

“Yes, indeed. It's Kim Seokjin. We met in college.”

As you guessed, of course. That's where the similar traits you could find in his personality came from.

But then Yoongi wasn't directly friends with Dohyun, and they couldn't be that close because of the nonchalant way he referred to him, so the question of why he was here yesterday, precisely when you came, would remain unanswered. It could be a coincidence? Of course, and you could remain in doubt, or you could…

“Wow. You two really are a powerful duo.”

Dohyun let out a laugh, nodding, looking so comfortable with himself, as if you were asking all the questions you should be asking.

“I love my job and I know I'm good at what I do, but Jin is simply on another level.”

You nodded, getting into his game of pretending, with a half smile on your face.

You knew that if Yuna knew what you were doing she would shake her head and tell you that you were crazy; that you should try to be less hard on other people and that's why you had never been able to hit it off with the other co-workers in Sol's cafeteria.

“Yes. I hear he's a great surgeon. He was top of his class, wasn't he?”

“That's right.” Dohyun nodded, determined not to look away from you. “But you're close to them too, aren't you? I saw Taehyung's Instagram stories when he uploaded your books.”

You blinked. Once. And again. He had already figured you out, and now he wanted to reverse the table and get some kind of reaction or information from you that you didn't know what kind of mystery it would solve in his head. The best option was to feign a bit of surprise, which was what you did, as if you didn't expect him to suddenly bring that up.

“Well, we studied together in school, but we were never that close.”

You lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay the subject, as if on cue, and Dohyun nodded slightly processing the information, averting his gaze over the dark carpet on the floor. He seemed to be tying up loose ends in his head and had more questions, the way he squinted his eyes as you gave him his space to think.

You had no idea what he was getting at. You had already brought out to him that he was close friends with Kim Seokjin and that, basically by extension he knew Yoongi. You could almost say it was a bit of an ordinary, almost trivial topic, not overly suspicious. Unless, of course, he knew something else that raised his curiosity and made you look suspicious in his eyes for asking such questions.

It seemed the most certain theory.

“And through him you must have met the others sometime, right?”

And it seemed you were right, too.

You had to deny his assertion, you knew, but it seemed you had taken half a second too long because he beat you to the word, shaking his head in a nod, and then said:

“That explains a lot.”

“Huh?”

Play dumb, play dumb.

Dohyun cracked a big grin, looking almost like a predator in the midst of its hunt, and from that alone you knew he'd already put his puzzle together.

“Well… actually, now that we're being honest, Jin was the one who recommended me to read your books.”

Wow.

Okay.

Jin… told Dohyun about you? About your books?

That doesn't explain anything. In fact, more questions popped up in your head than you could control and you were sure Dohyun could see the question marks moving over your irises.

“He told me that there could be a great opportunity if I published you and he was really right. I don't regret sending you that offer.”

Dohyun leaned back against the backrest and stretched one of his arms over the chair next to him. His posture was a little more relaxed than before and you couldn't help the feeling of anger that ran through you because you had given him just what he wanted, but you couldn't concentrate too much on that because you were too surprised by what he had just blurted out, as if it was nothig.

Of all the things you could've imagined, you would never have considered that this huge and prestigious publishing house had offered you a contract just because one of the CEO's great friends had recommended it to him. I mean, if Jin had never talked about it, would you have had any chance of getting this offer? Of signing this contract? Would you have been recognized on your own merit and not because you were linked to the mouth of a close friend?

None of that made any sense. Why had Jin told Choi Dohyun about you? His best friend being the owner of the most prestigious publishing house in the country, clearly knowing the implications of his actions, why would he do that? Maybe he didn't count on his friend throwing him overboard someday for gossiping and because he has an ego bigger than his own head? Maybe he thought it would be an anonymous job forever? And for what reason? On what grounds? What kind of emotions moved him to make that decision? Maybe it was simply an altruistic desire. Maybe he was moved by the same thing that moved Taehyung, the one who started all this. But was it something premeditated or not? Was it something he had previously discussed with Namjoon? Would the others know about it? Would they have agreed? Would they not have cared?

In the midst of that mental stupor, the very idea of healing seemed stupid to you. The immense confusion and anger that was coursing through your blood had no place for this group of fools to continue to meddle in your life as if they were playing a fucking election game on their computer. Why? Why? Why?

You wanted to get out of a simple doubt with Dohyun, to know what kind of connection he had with Yoongi and that everything that had happened was a coincidence, and you had ended up with a thousand more questions, with a hundred confusions and even more mixed emotions.

And Yoongi… would he have been in his office yesterday for something related to that?

“At first I thought Taehyung had asked him, but Jin is quite careful about such things. He wouldn't hint something like that to me even because his brothers ask him to, unless it was someone he could vouch for. So you knew Jin too, right?”

You didn't try to deny it, but you didn't give him the reason either. Amidst a sea of questions and confusion, incredulous and angry, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“I'll bring the first draft tomorrow.”

Dohyun took his time, drumming his fingers on the wood of the chair, sending you a look as if he wanted to get more answers out of you because your attitude raised more doubts than he initially had. Maybe you let go of a wolf's leash or this would be a one-time occurrence, you had no idea. But he said nothing more. Finally he got up, said goodbye and left.

Don't you think you deserve a break?

You should've listened to Yuna.

-

The next day, when you finished editing the draft of your fourth book amid tears, several cups of coffee and an excruciating pain in your wrist, you finally handed it in to the editors with a heavy heart and an hour of sleep in your body. It had officially ceased to be yours. The revelation that Dohyun had actually offered you all of this because Jin had asked him to do so kept going round and round in your head and made you revise and edit that draft more harshly than you would've done before.

Maybe you added a few extra curse words.

“If you don't finish that pasta, I'm going to steal it from you.”

Yuna hadn't even finished her own plate and was already eyeing yours, her brow furrowed and her own fork stabbing the ceramic of the deep dish you'd served your friend in as she crossed the threshold of the front door. You had been stirring the food with your fork for a while, thinking, reflecting, theorizing, trying to figure out what you really wanted; trying to recognize and accept the emotions inside you that were upsetting you.

Your parents had left early and Seojun was back in his college dorms, so you invited Yuna to lunch because you knew she loved the pastries your mom made and because you thought it would do you good to have some company after turning in the draft of your book. But, really, you were more overwhelmed than before. Yuna's presence didn't stop the thoughts in your head from racing, nor did it erase from reality what had happened.

“Y/n?”

You raised your head.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, and tried to focus on eating lunch before rambling on.

“Is it because of the book?”

“No, no. Everything's fine. I was just thinking.”

“Do you think you should've waited a little longer to turn it in?”

You shook your head. “No.”

It wasn't an order from Dohyun or anything like that. You decided to get started on editing the next book because it was a bit desperate to have nothing to do. Before you could focus on the whole operational and logistical process of delivering the books, but now that was taken care of by a separate company and all you had to do was verify that the money was coming into your account and that was it. Not that it was bad, but you were not used to just sitting idly by. So you thought that continuing with the pre-publication editing of the next books might be a good way to pass the time.

You didn't expect, of course, the statement you heard the day before, let alone that it would knock down your motivation like the wind to dry leaves. After that conversation with Dohyun, you decided that the best thing you could do was to turn in that draft and give them as much work as possible as a distraction so that you wouldn't have to go back to that building for at least a couple of weeks. It wasn't a healthy activity, of course, because at the time you were only functioning to keep Yuna from questioning if there was something wrong with you. Well, she probably did, but she preferred not to comment on it, because you hadn't been giving her too many answers to her questions lately.

Having decided that Dohyun was an expert manipulator, you could only worry about the possibility that he might decide to comment something about that conversation to Jin or just stir up a conversation about the possible existence of a friendly bond with him during school time. You didn't know what could trigger that; with everything that had happened up to that point you could no longer be sure of anything or trust anything.

“No. I thought I'd turn it in now so I'd have more time to read the next books. I know that one isn't too bad. I revised it too many times while I was writing it and even after.”

“And it's pretty long, isn't it?”

You nodded, finally tasting another mouthful of pasta. “Seven hundred pages.”

“Holy Christ,” Yuna put a hand to her forehead and sketched a worried expression. Then her excited exclamation echoed throughout the house. “What a thrill! I can't wait to read it!!!!!!”

Yuna returned to work an hour later and you spent the rest of the afternoon between shifts of lying down staring at the ceiling and watching more videos about your books on social media, which you hadn't been able to leave since you saw them with your whole family in the living room. It still seemed surreal to you that you could search the name of your books on the internet and you would indeed get the results you expected. Clearly not all the opinions were praise, but you were willing to take all of that and learn, implement and consider it for the next stories you were willing to tell. For now, you were going to focus on keeping the editors busy enough that they wouldn't have to ask about it or demand your presence for any reason. This trilogy really was quite a lengthy saga, so when they finallt finish editing the fourth book, you'd have the fifth waiting, and so on. At least until you had another amazing idea for a new story.

Now, on the slightly more disturbing topics, you still had more loose ends to tie up than you had initially thought. As you still had those particles of anger running through your body and you were still convinced that there was still no room for healing and overcoming, you could only think about what Yoongi's presence in Dohyun's office was about and if it had to do with what Jin had done.

That was the first line of thought. The second one sounded more like Yuna with her serious voice trying to talk some sense into you and tell you that you were seeing into it too much, that surely it was all just a coincidence and that Yoongi's presence was just some kind of crossfire.

But… yet… how many more times did something like this have to happen before you stopped chalking it up to coincidence? How many more times would you say it was a coincidence until everything started to connect to a purpose? Did they even have a purpose? Did they have a reason for all this, for all this unnecessary drama? And was their reason worth it to compensate for the instability you were going through? Having pent up emotions, confusion, lots of doubts and zero answers was about to drive you crazy.

However, maybe seeing things from another approach would allow you to understand.

Because, honestly, you saw it as too complicated to be able to leave them behind in this way, when it seemed that, on purpose or not, you would keep finding them in your soup. Adopting a slightly more objective approach, even though your emotions were always running high when it came to them, could give you the resolution you were looking for and the answer to the questions you were asking yourself. And there would be nothing more than that, because it would be impossible to restore the friendship you once had. Perhaps the truth would be painful, but you would accept it as it was and move on. Now, as old as you were, it would not be as hard as it was ten years ago when in the midst of confusion and desolation you could only cry.

Now, you had already gone through the mourning and made peace with the distance, the absence and the betrayal.

Maybe, if you tried a little harder, you could bring real closure —and soon, hopefully— by finding the answers on your own.

-

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, which he was spinning around like a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and solve any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would make everyone feel comfortable enough to move forward.

In his head, Namjoon was a three thousand dollars conflict-solver. Seeking solutions from reason and objectivity was basically how he kept his company afloat, that company he had inherited from his parents and had turned into the economic juggernaut it was today. All that success was summed up in the capacity for resolution that Namjoon had in his super head and, of course, his strategic capacity that allowed him to read his opponents and know exactly what they wanted, how they wanted it and when they wanted it.

However…

The whole table was still silent.

And Namjoon could only look at the faces of each of his friends, his best friends, practically his brothers, while they shied away from his gaze or directly ignored him, while he clasped his hands on the edge of the chair and tried to keep his composure because he no longer knew what to do.

Kim Namjoon, the three-thousandth troubleshooter, had a factory defect and could not fix the one thing he had always been able to fix with ease.

When Hoseok had walked into his office two nights ago with that stern and serious expression, Namjoon knew that there would be more problems to solve. But if he had to be honest, even before that moment he knew it wasn't working out well. Maybe it was because of the delicacy of the subject or the crudeness of his friends to address it, but Namjoon was losing the important ingredient of patience and that was something that hadn't happened to him before.

But then again, how could they all be so insensitive?

“Doesn't anyone have anything to say?”

Hoseok had been the only one to be spared from this discussion, though his presence was required at the table and tension radiated from his body in equal amounts. The others were directly attacked by the three thousandth (broken) problem-solver and despite Namjoon giving them a space to try to explain the situation, the table was still silent and with each passing second the pressure cooker containing Namjoon's anger was beeping louder and louder.

“I don't think there's much to say.”

It was Jin who finally broke the silence and Namjoon let out some air.

“Ah, thank you, Jin. Why do you think so?”

With his arms crossed, the older sent him an incredulous look.

“We've had this conversation three times already, Namjoon. Why do you think it's necessary for us to keep repeating ourselves?”

Hoseok had told Namjoon that he was concerned about the coexistence in the pent-house and that perhaps the elephant in the room was not being addressed in the right way; that more and more misunderstandings were being created between everyone and that it was making for an untrustworthy environment for the youngers. Namjoon agreed halfway through; if he had to be honest, none of it would've gotten to that point if none of them had been so irresponsible and daring to do all that they had done. And Jin had the least right to dismiss the issue as he had.

“Because you all don't seem to have listened to me at all, especially you.”

Jin snorted and turned his head away. Jungkook beside him barely winced at the hostile exchange.

“And what did I do?”

“What did you do? Jin, how can you be so inconsiderate?”

“I only rushed an exchange that was eventually going to happen, what the fuck is wrong with that?”

Namjoon tried not to look so surprised by the fact that the conversation he had had with him two nights ago and Yoongi had basically gone in one ear and out the other. Namjoon had no idea if it was an occupational hazard or a personality trait, but Jin was having a kind of stubbornness that bordered too much on his pride and desire to be right.

And right now it wasn't about who was right or wrong. It was about the fact that they had all made a promise and now they were breaking it as if it was worthless. Worse, as if the only ones affected by it were them and not a third party.

“Didn't you stop to think how she would feel if she found out that was how things went down?”

Jin rolled his eyes, but didn't answer him.

“Why do you all do all these things without believing that they will have consequences beyond your own feelings? That's all I'm asking you to consider!”

Taehyung and Jungkook at least had the decency to actually look embarrassed, avoiding Namjoon's gaze. Jimin was still convinced that he had done nothing extremely wrong and Yoongi simply demonstrated his sorrow through indifference. Namjoon knew that Yoongi was just as frustrated as he was with the way things were going, because they were the only ones trying to fix the messes the others had been thoughtlessly causing. And Jin… well, it was obvious that he didn't see any big implications beyond having to be scolded by Namjoon.

“Guys…” Hoseok started, sitting to Namjoon's right with a tired and defeated expression. If Namjoon and Yoongi were looking out for the integrity of the third party concerned, Hoseok was the one who was most concerned about the bonds that were breaking between them and that was why he had gone to Namjoon to have a group meeting again and set the boundaries once and for all. “You guys know that Namjoon is not just talking for the sake of talking. Jin, you don't need to get defensive. I understand that you tried to make the connection in good faith, but you have to understand that it was a very high risk. And while Dohyun is your friend, you know he's not very trustworthy.”

Jin grunted then, despite the kind tone Hoseok used to address him, and the others at the table only sent him a surprised look.

“Sure, now it's all my own damn fault. Not only do I have to deal with the stress of work, now I have to come to my supposed time off to deal with this too?”

“Hyung,” Yoongi called after him and frowned at the rude tone the older had used. “No one is saying it's your fault. We all have a part in this.”

“I don't care, Yoongi. Whatever's going on right now you know who's really to blame. And there's nothing you can do about it anymore.”

“Jin,” Namjoon called back and the aforementioned turned to look at him with daggers in his eyes. “You made the promise too.”

“Yes, one I never agreed to and you know it.”

Hoseok sighed and ran his hands over his face. “This is not the time to apportion blame, okay? I only wanted this space because I want us to fix this lack of communication and all this hostility that is affecting our living together.”

Namjoon turned to look at the table, finding the younger ones sealed in silence. None of them raised their heads and they showed signs of nervousness and anxiety, even if they tried to hide it under the tablecloth on the table.

There were too many things Namjoon wanted to control; there were too many things he wanted to solve; there were a number of other things that drove him mad and others that made him feel hopeless. Understanding all these emotions, his own or others', was wearing him down and perhaps that was why he was increasingly losing an ounce of patience. However, no matter how hard it was for him, Namjoon had to be sure that his priority was right in front of him. He had chosen to do so a couple of years ago and he could no longer turn back time.

“Hey, I'm sorry, okay?” Namjoon started once again and although Hoseok tried to shush him to calm down, he continued, “I know how I've acted during these days since everything started and I have not been very open to dialogue. For me it was… it was like crossing a forbidden boundary and I couldn't understand how you guys could jump over it without a second thought. It made my hair stand on end and I didn't… I didn't… I didn't know how to contain those emotions, I didn't know how to control them and clearly I didn't know how to express them. And the truth is that it worries me. I understand that you don't, because otherwise you wouldn't have done any of that, but I would like you to try to do that because this is not a unilateral action that will only affect you and will only be in your memories. You are affecting her too, and very much so. We were not good, not even friendly or cordial, so I need you to understand that all these things she will not see them as you think. Jungkook, you experienced it first hand. She hates us.”

Jungkook jerked on the chair and Taehyung was the one who reached over the table to take his intertwined hands. Jin sighed, finally letting the anger dissipate and Yoongi mimicked him, a little calmer as he watched his elder relax. Hoseok shook his head in assent, noticing the tension at the table dissipate a bit and how the young men held each other.

“And rightly so, because we made an inexcusable decision. And not only that, but she will now believe that it was a simple Tuesday for us and it's not. We made the promise for a reason and anything related we were supposed to consult first as a group. Sure, life happens and we get busy with a lot of things and have too much on our minds, but this was all inexcusable and we owe her more than forgiveness. We probably owe her our lives.”

“Hyung, I'm sorry…”

Jungkook was the most regretful. Since that harsh encounter, for which he dared to risk his presence in public and for which he believed it would be worth a try, Jungkook had never regretted something so much since the day of the promise. He still remembered the hatred your voice exuded and shivers ran down his spine. He had been unconscious, that was true, and he didn't know what he had let consume his body to have made that decision or to have simply acted without thinking. The possibility of seeing you again simply…blinded him. But that was never an excuse.

And Namjoon knew that. It was Jungkook who acted worse than everyone else, but he also couldn't deny to himself that had he found himself in the same predicament, with the same opportunity, he wouldn't have done the same. Maybe that's why he was so demanding of others, because that's how he reminded himself that he had no right to even think about it, much less act on their emotions, when they had taken away your choice as if they had any say in it.

“We can't erase what has already happened and what you have already done. All I ask is that you don't make it worse.” Namjoon implored, closing his eyes in silent prayer. “At this point there is no way to fix anything, and if every day we do things like this we are only inflicting pain on someone who doesn't deserve it. So please, for the love of God, leave her alone.”

The whole table was still silent, but this time Namjoon could clearly see everyone's face and notice their emotions right away, as he had always been able to do. He still didn't understand what had moved them to do all that; to Taehyung, to Jungkook, to Jin, to Jimin, despite everything they had discussed before, and he didn't understand how he hadn't been able to foresee their intentions from the beginning. But he could no longer focus on what had happened, but on what was happening and what he could still fix.

For that which had already been broken for years, Namjoon doubted too much that any of it could ever be fixed, no matter how hard he tried. And boy, would he have wanted to try.

“I'm sorry,” Jin mumbled, and it almost seemed like he had ripped the words from the back of his throat, but Namjoon took it with all his being and considered it the first victory on this new path.

When he finally dispatched everyone, Jimin remained seated to his left.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

The blond looked disgruntled, and though it was clear that the tension was gone from his shoulders, in his gaze was that longing that Namjoon hadn't seen in years and certainly didn't allow in himself for all that he had previously exposed.

“Do you really think it's impossible to fix it?”

Namjoon hated knowing that the gleam in Jimin's eye had no future. At least not the one he wanted to believe. Namjoon, like everyone else, had spent sleepless nights thinking, remembering, reflecting and considering that they were never brave enough nor necessarily tough enough to earn that friendship once again. It had all gone to waste and it had been because of them.

“Yeah, I don't think that's possible.”

Jimin passed his saliva harshly, as if his mouth was dry, but he had to control and keep his emotions in check. Namjoon knew his every emotion and mainly knew how sensitive this whole issue was for Jimin, who from the beginning never agreed with him on anything and never hesitated to let him know. In fact, it took a couple of years before Namjoon could finally have this close relationship with Jimin again, until the blond decided to forgive him.

“It's silly to hope at this point, right?”

Namjoon also knew that Jimin struggled a lot to stop pointing blames, as Jin still did. He knew that, had Jimin had the opportunity in his hands several years in the past, he would have taken it and perhaps left them behind if he could. It was an extremely complex and long process to get the blond to trust Namjoon and those on his side again, which was one of the reasons why Hoseok was so insistent on talking and communicating and keeping everyone on good terms. It had cost them so much to re-form their trust that he couldn't allow it to crack once again.

Jimin nodded at his words when they were met with silence, for there was nothing Namjoon could say to comfort him. It was simply a heartbreaking situation.

“Tae and I will be with Jungkook.” Jimin assured Namjoon as he stood up. “Thank you… for trying.”

Namjoon only nodded, pressing his lips together in an attempt at a smile. Things would not automatically go back to the way they were before, as Namjoon's sternness in dealing with this issue on previous occasions was what initially caused this whole fiasco of miscommunication and hostility. He was heartily grateful that likewise Jimin took him into consideration, because he didn't know if he would be able to sleep knowing that everyone in that pent-house hated him. He didn't know if being the reason for the constant discord would allow him to have a respite of peace of mind at some point, when he was simply trying to do what he thought was best for everyone and what suited them on a sentimental level.

Kim Namjoon used to believe that he was good at dealing with any kind of problem. In his head, over which he circled as if it was a huge sphere and he was a hamster, Namjoon was sure that he could fix any situation and provide a solution to any misunderstanding, any fight or at least come to an agreement that would allow everyone to feel comfortable enough to move forward.

However, at that moment, the past tense wording was the most accurate.

Namjoon used to believe.

Jimin stopped halfway up the stairs, transfixed, and Namjoon watched him curiously. Then, the blond half-turned on his heels and Namjoon got front row view of Jimin's pale face and his exaggeratedly expanded eyes as he looked at his phone.

“Hyung…”

Namjoon came striding over, intrigued as well as concerned by the expression on the blond's face.

Jimin had his Instagram open, specifically his direct messages. There was the message there that had made Jimin stop dead in his tracks and all blood dropped to his feet, but Namjoon didn't understand what the reason for his surprise was until he saw the sender, and then his eyebrows disappeared into his hair.

y/n Let's meet

--

omg🙊🙊

tag: @rinkud@futuristicenemychaos@pastelpeachess@parapiop7@11thenightwemet11 @yoongznme @queenbloody @lynnettys-world @darlingz99 @dreamerwasfound @chaotickyrith @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthigs @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @kariningss @juju-227592 @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @jincapableoflove @notrustfratedjin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @cerulean1riz @kawennote09 @angelfuzzy2 @themoonsblueside @damn-u-min-yoongi @drenix004 @dhanyasri @borahaetelevision

[allpiesforourown]

love your role reversal au, not enough of those in the world, peak lord bingge is already annoyed with lqg, how will he feel with the intrusion of qiong ding's head disciple yue qingyuan? yqy is probably dropping by qing jing every week or so to see his xiao yuan

not to mention all the peak lords who've probably been treating shen yuan like the head disciple/peak lord whenever bingge has been away once shen yuan's cultivation reached a suitable level of cultivation, a level possibly helped by mu qingfang who might drop by with some pill or tea that's supposed to help those who started cultivating late if not because mfq admires shen yuan then it's absolutely because mfq figures that if sy is going to get into trouble and perform self sacrificing stunts even WITH lqq there as a bodyguard, sy needs his cultivation improved stat to he'll have a better chance of surviving and not needing to be on the medical peak every other day

We know that Cang Qiong prides itself as being very familial, and says its peak lords are very close.. we also know that wasn't really true until shen yuan transmigrated, because before that, everyone except for Yue Qingyuan hated shen jiu.

So I'm imagining peak lord Luo Binghe who does not give a fuck about any of his martial siblings except for Liu Mingyan.. but shen Yuan gets along GREAT with all the other head disciples. Everyone sees Shen Yuan, Liu Qingge, Qi Qingqi, etc etc all hanging out having picnics regularly and they're like "the next generation of peak lord are going to be SO close" and binghe is the only one who absolutely hates it.

Yue Qingyuan asks to hang out with Shen Yuan and Binghe says Shen Yuan spends too much time with him, and Shen Yuan replies "but if shizun has chosen me as the next peak lord of Qing Jing... shouldn't this one foster a good relationship with the future sect leader" and binghe feels like he's been punched in the stomach. Binghe kind of gets off on being shen yuans shizun and therefore holding authority over him, so the idea that one day he'll be out of the picture and it'll be SECT LEADER YUE telling him what to do... he's going insane.

I haven't quite decided what to do with Yue qi and shen jiu's backstories and how they're related to shen yuan... maybe shen jiu will join Qing Jing Peak later and become another person binghe hates because they keep stealing away shen yuan

As for Mu Qingfang... I think he's very protective of Shen Yuan because they are friends but also.. he definitely sees Shen-shixiong as his little lab rat. How is it possible for one man to get hit with so many wife plots poisons and enemies? He made an entirely separate patients log just for shen yuan because of how frequently he visits him. The log was layer refined into a medical guide on various illnesses and injuries and their symptoms, and Mu Qingfang is widely renowned for his book. No one knows that the entirety of the book is documenting just one person.

[vespertiliosworld]

Friends

Damian Wayne x Reader

Note: If I made a mistake, please forgive me, English is not my native language.

『••✎••』

You don't even know how you managed to be friends with the little arrogant Damian Wayne. Among the art of the students in the small gallery opened by the school, the arts of the two of you were the most striking among everyone.

You always saw drawing as the best way to express problems. The view 'Art is for people' was valid for you.

On the other hand, the view that 'Art is for art's sake' was more appropriate for Damian. I don't think this arrogant demon will care about people.

Nevertheless, you became friends, You spend many time just talking about art, after that Damian realized that, you are different from others. He appropriated your knowledge. He was start to get interested with you. He was listening your talks closely.

That boy never stopped rattling about you. Especially to Tim. He never miss an opportunity to telling him to how smart you are and your being better Tim, without doing anything. He kept talking about you while criticizing Tim. This take Dick's attention.

Dick get suspended about Damian's attention to you. Even Jason, realized Damian's interest on you. That was unexpected. Of course, Damian was growing, of course he was going to get some love interest but you were the first civilian one, Damian liked.

Just think about that little gremlins just standing there, his arms wrapped around his chest, looking Tim by with his eyes before starting to compare you both and praise you.

While time passes you two get closer. He was now judging every single person who try to flirt with you. He wasn't thinking that anyone can be good for you but him. He invited you to an art gala.

It was simple and quick. You two was sitting on grass at school. You were looking to social media and showed him to an art gala. "Look at that! Most important artist were coming."

He turn his gaze to your phone from his book with frown eyebrows. "Tch, I know that. My family are going to." He said this like nothing.

You turn your phone to yourself. "Gosh! You are so lucky." I whimper to him with a bit jealousy.

He closed his book and turn his eyes to you. "If you want, you can come to."

You look him with widening eyes in disbelief. "Really? But I'm not invited and also I'm not important person like other guests." You turn your gaze back to your phone hesitantly.

He shrug his shoulders. "I bet, you are more intelligent more than others." His eyes catch your hesitant. "Just come with me. It's better to talk with you than talking to my father's adulatorys." He grimaced at the thought.

You chuckled softly. "I can't say no to this opportunity." You take a deep breath with happiness. "What should I wear? Like a long dress?" You looked at him with teasing gaze.

He rolled his eyes. " Just don't exaggeration."

You looked at him giggling. "But I was thinking of coming in a gold-plated dress." You patted his arm jokingly.

His lips curled to up, a little smile's shadow appeared. "Then maybe I should send you a dress so you don't have to do that," He said teasingly as he turned his gaze back to the book.

You turned your head to him with a slight chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't embarrass you. Still, thank you for inviting me." You looked at him with a warm smile.

When Damian's eyes fell on your smile, he couldn't help but feel proud of himself. "I know." He said simply. Before getting up from where he was sitting, he looked at you. "We will pick you up at six on Saturday."

You nodded and smiled. "Okay."

He reached out his hand to to lift you from the grass

***

You started to think about what to wear with worry from the morning on that day. Until a box arrives for you. After receiving the box from the courier, the note on top caught your attention. 'Wear this. -Damian.'

When you opened the box with a smile, there was a dress exactly as you wanted. It was absolutely beautiful, just your style. The thought of Damian getting it for you excited you. After putting on the dress and wearing short heels, you spent a few hours doing your makeup and hair. You were excited and a little worried because it was the first time you would be in such an environment. You were also thinking about not embarrassing Damian.

But when the doorbell rang, you hurried forward in your heels. As you opened the door, you were met with Damian's green eyes. His hair was slicked back, and he was wearing a stylish suit. From head to toe, her green eyes scanned you. "Looks good."

You looked at him with a smile. "Thank you, you look very handsome too." You tensely pushed your hair behind your ear. "I'm very nervous ." You admitted.

He raised an eyebrow and reached out his hand to you. "There's no need to get tense for a few snobs. Just ignore them."

You took his hand and left the house. Alfred was waiting for you in the car. Damian, as a gentleman, first helped you get in, and then got into the car himself. After entering, you looked at Alfred. "Hello, Mr. Pennyworth, it's a pleasure to meet you," you greeted him with a soft voice and a smile.

He gently bowed his head and looked at you in the mirror, greeting you. "It's a pleasure to meet you too, young lady."

When the car started to going, you started feeling more tense. You tried to calm down by looking at the hands you placed on your knees. Damian noticed your situation and reached out, wrapping his little finger around yours. Although he didn't like physical contact, he always did this when you needed it.

When you smiled at him, you noticed that instead of looking at you, he was looking out the window. Still, the small touch was enough to relax you. When you arrived in front of the gala, Alfred had already gotten out and opened your door for you. Damian get out car reached out his hand for you to hold.

After holding his hand and getting off, you lowered your head uncomfortably because the lights of the cameras of the journalists and reporters around were very bright. Damian, on the other hand, continued to walk upright and strong as if accustomed to this attention.

You relaxed when you entered to art gala room. Damian was still holding your hand, his eyes quickly found his father and directed you in that direction. When he stood in front of his father, he was confident and resolute. "Hello, father. This is my friend, Y/N."

When Bruce's eyes shifted to you, he looked at you with a gentle and rich smile and reached out his hand. 'Nice to meet you, young lady. Damian mentioned you very much."

You smiled at him and reached out your hand to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce's eyes briefly turned to Damian before shaking your hand. "I wasn't actually expecting Damian to make friends, he's usually quite selective." He drank the champagne in his hand and turned to Damian. "How about introducing your young friend to your brothers? They should be around."

Damian frowned. "They are annoying, we'll look at paintings instead." Without thinking, he rejected his father and dragged you towards a random painting.

As your eyes wandered around, he stopped in front of a beautiful painting. When your eyes were fixed on the picture, you carefully examined it, squinting your eyes. "Aren't brush strokes very simple? As if it's done without any emotion." You whispered to him.

When Damian's eyes shifted to the painting, he received a scornful look. "You're right, it is. Even when I was five, I could have done better than this."

You chuckled lightly and looked at him. "Ah, definitely." You moved on to another painting. "This one is more beautiful, I can see the artist's nervousness in the hardness of the brush strokes."

He shook his head. "The brush strokes are too harsh for a picture of a cheerful girl swinging on a swing," he said as he examined the painting.

You looked at him with a smile. "Perhaps he painted this picture with the hatred of his childhood." You came up with an idea.

Damian looked at you. "Maybe." After a while of silence, he turned back to the painting. "You know, I'm glad you came today. If you hadn't come, I might have thought about stabbing someone."

You looked at him with a slight chuckle. "You probably would."

As a slight smile formed on Damian's face, he took your hand and pulled you out to the balcony. "Come on, it's too stuffy inside."

When you stepped out onto the balcony, the sun was setting. Gotham had a rare clear sky, and today was one of those days. It was just you and Damian on the balcony. You took a deep breath and smiled as you looked outside. "The weather is nice."

Damian stood next to you with his hands behind his back and looked up at the sky. "It is." When a strange silence passed among you, Damian felt the need to speak. "You know, you're one of the tolerable rare people."

You turned to him with a slight smile. "Thank you, you are also a good friend."

When his eyes shifted to you, the ghost of a smile played on his lips.

After a brief silence, this time you spoke. "You know, your father is very attractive."

Damian took a breath filled with frustration. "You're starting to being annoying now."

You chuckled lightly. "But he is. Is he single?"

Damian turned his stern gaze to you. "Maybe I should stab you."

You chuckled softly, of course he wouldn't do it.

『••✎••』

Thanks for reading♡♡

[neerons]

Some of Ikémen Prince Emma's best quotes + Akatsuki's bonus quotes

"The day's barely started, but I want to go back to bed already." (—Emma's thoughts)

"I'm putting on the best performance of my life here, and you're turning this into the worst melodrama I've ever seen!" (—Emma's thoughts about her made-up romantic relationship with Clavis)

"I don't know what to do. Why can't I be like the heroine in one of my stories, able to outwit everyone no matter how clever they are?" (—Emma's thoughts)

"I didn't, did I? Please tell me I didn't. Oh god, what was I thinking? Why would I throw myself at a sleaze like you?" (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

"Ooooh, if I could strangle you right now, I would!" (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"So... we have a prince that likes blowing up the palace and no one cares?!" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"I could feel Chevalier's cold, silent stare, and that was somehow worse than anything he could have said." (—Emma's thoughts)

"You mean between Sariel's hellish lessons or your adoration? You're right, it's blindingly obvious which is better. Thanks, Sariel, I can hardly wait!" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"Take this! Bunny... Kick!" (—Emma trying to kick Gilbert, as a bunny)

"Don't tell me one of his business deals failed? Or maybe he stubbed his toe on something? Or hit his fat head on a doorframe?" (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"Honey: 1. Luke's dignity: 0..." (—Emma's thoughts)

"You have no problem invading my privacy and coming in here whenever you please, but you think it's fine to threaten me because I did the same to you?" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis coming into her bedroom)

"I went on staring at him, trying to decide whether it was worth it to punch him or not." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"If you let down your guard just because I'm a little rabbit, you might be the one who regrets it in the end." (—Emma to Gilbert)

"Could you get your face out of my face?" (—Emma to Silvio)

"Ahhh, why do you insist on acting the villain when there's not a single thing villainous about you?!" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"I slowly lowered my head onto his lap as though it might turn into a bed of knives at any second. (...) I realized I was laying on what were possibly the most deadly thighs in the world." (—Emma's thoughts about Gilbert)

"I am SO close to punching this guy." (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

"Some people would call that a book..." (—Emma referring to Rio's love letter)

"I know you hate it when I call you adorable, but... you really are adorable right now." (—Emma's thoughts about drunk Licht)

"...Instead of grabbing hold of me, have you considered maybe wearing warmer clothing?" (—Emma to Gilbert)

"Who in their right mind could have imagined that I'd be dragged into his bed and pounced on almost every morning?" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"His Highness... stole my first time." (—Emma talking about Silvio to the King of Benitoite)

"Wow. He said something sensible for once." (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

"I didn't have his strength, but I had fingernails, and I made sure they dug in deep." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"I'm not going to let you have your way about anything and everything just because you were born important." (—Emma to Gilbert)

"PLEASE SHUT UP NOW." (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis misleading everyone about their relationship)

"No, it's fine, really, please take your time... Take all the time you need!" (—Emma to Gilbert telling her he won't be able to spend time with her that day)

"I always thought you were pretty overprotective, Rio, but I take it back—you've got nothing on Silvio!" (—Emma's thoughts)

"Would it be strange if I said I was relieved that the man I love is so intimidating to other men?" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"He'd leapt so cheerfully into the pit that I was pretty certain I'd be traumatized for the rest of my life by the flamboyant way he'd hit the bottom." (—Emma's thoughts about seeing Gilbert fall into Clavis' trap voluntarily)

"If we ever actually find you, Clavis, I have about a million things I want to say to you, and none of them are polite..." (—Emma's thoughts)

"If you live for me, I'll stay with you, forever. I'll never leave you alone, ever again. Don't you want to find more ways to have fun with me?" (—Emma to Gilbert)

"He's hard enough to approach when he's fully awake, I can't imagine what he's like first thing in the morning!" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"You're lucky that I still want you even after you call me soft and silly and say my heartfelt declaration is 'embarrassing crap'. Silvio... take me."

"I couldn't help reaching out and squeezing his upper arm, just to see how it felt." (—Emma's thoughts about Gilbert)

"(...) I know you can be cold and ruthless, but you always make me feel more sure of myself." (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"This man invented a bizarre device to keep me cool, covered me up to protect my modesty... And now he's drying me off so I don't catch a cold. He's the sweetest person in the whole world, and I—" (—Emma's thoughts about Clavis)

"Gilbert can really make anything he puts his mind to. I mean, how many gunsmiths are also fashion designers?" (—Emma's thoughts)

"Oh, boy. Here comes Drama Queen Gilbert. (...) And here comes Sulky Gilbert." (—Emma's thoughts)

"I hope he comes back soon... ...Or just... never." (—Emma talking about Silvio to Rio)

"You're all good, kind men, and I know you'll never become the sort of corrupt, tyrannical rulers that Gilbert hates so much." (—Emma's thoughts about all the Rhodolitian princes)

"Okay, I admit that writing him letters in a language only the two of us know IS pretty romantic. But to think that people would assume I'm writing dirty things to him because of that..." (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"'By the time you'll be reading this, I'll be gone'...? Did you... Did you have to write something so cliched?" (—Emma reading Gilbert's letter)

"Nokto? Stop talking. You're only digging yourself into an even deeper hole."

"I can't see much with that hood in the way, but I can still tell you're exasperated. ...You know, I think we're going to become good friends..." (—Emma's thoughts about Roderic)

"He was the perfect prince... so long as he didn't actually talk." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"So he wants a kiss, huh? I think he's actually looking for more than that, but let's make him work for it." (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"I guess he means me...? What an ass." (—Emma's thoughts about an auction manager calling her a 'fine article')

"If you're asking stupid questions, expect a stupid answer. That's all I'm saying." (—Emma to Nokto)

"Is it just me, or has his expression softened a tiny, tiny, TINY bit?" (—Emma's thoughts about Chevalier)

"He was like a tyrannical villain from one of my books, flashy and loud and pompous, and a part of me wished he'd go back to whatever book he'd come from." (—Emma's thoughts about Silvio)

"It's like every time I think something positive about you, you find a way to ruin it immediatly." (—Emma's thoughts about Nokto)

Akatsuki's bonus quotes:

"Kill him." (—Akatsuki replying to Rio asking him what he intends to do to Gilbert)

"How dare he do something so shameless to my daughter, in front of a crowd like that..." (—Akatsuki talking about Gilbert)

"(...) when your vacation is over, you will return to your duties. (...) And I know someone as earnest as you would never do anything to breach a contract like that. ...I will come for you. So it's just until then. Got it? (—Akatsuki telling Emma he'll come save her from Obsidian)

"I'm not your father." (—Akatsuki to Emma)

"...I did not tell you stories about Emma so that you could make her your wife." (—Akatsuki to Gilbert)

"...I'll stop by to check on you regularly. If something happens to my daughter, I'll kill you." (—Akatsuki talking about Emma to Gilbert)

"She may not be my real daughter, but I'd never let a man I don't know near my valued worker." (—Akatsuki to Rio)

"They're for Emma. I collected them from all over the world in order to handle any sort of injury or illness." (—Akatsuki talking about his medicinal herbs to Rio)

"If even a single hair on her head is harmed, I'll never let you see my daughter again." (—Akatsuki to Rio)

"Your potential is limitless. It would be a shame for you to be confined here. (—Akatsuki talking about the bookstore to Emma)

[lizzieisright]

Tranquility

dom!reader x sub!Abby

Summary: You want to help Abby relax and show her she doesn't have to control everything, sometimes she just can let go.

Tags: dom!reader, fingering, praise, consent checks, Abby doesn't really notice she is subbing, very light and vanilla, Sylvia Plath's quotes.

wc: 3.7k

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You don't jump into power dynamics right away when you get together: Abby doesn't even think about it too much - she just assumes since between the two of you she is the killing machine, big strong scary Abby Anderson, she'll be in charge like she is everywhere else. And you don't seem to mind, even though you had the sex talk way prior to having actual sex (I can't bottom every time if it's something you want, you said to her, and Abby agreed: she liked topping but she could bottom just fine). 

So the thought of power dynamics doesn't come to Abby at all, until one day. 

You are too good at reading Abby's mood - for some reason you can notice even the small shift in her. It's a superpower that creeps Abby out sometimes, how you can recognise her feelings and act accordingly. You don't make a scene out of it, you don't take care of her like she is a child who can't regulate her emotions, but you're there through it all. You're not scared of her anger or her tears, always calm, and for the first time in years Abby feels like she can rely on someone. Can trust someone fully. 

And today Abby is on edge. She is tired, angry and frustrated - the plan for the next supply run isn't safe in her opinion. Abby likes her plans to be foolproof, "if you think they're smart enough think again and dumb it down" type of fool-proof. Everyone said Abby was being ridiculous about it, and maybe she was, but it doesn't make her feel any better. 

And you obviously notice it. You watch her from the couch as Abby walks around packing, huffing every two seconds in anger. 

"I saw that plan, Abby, it's good. Everything will be fine. Manageable if something goes wrong."

"Jamie is on the team, and this idiot will get us in trouble." Abby growls. "And then someone will have to clean up his mess and someone will get hurt and it will slow us down-"

"Okay. Okay, Abs, stop." You put your book away. "Come here, you need to relax." You pat your lap and Abby stares at you before laughing.

"What, you want me to sit in your lap?" Abby asks sceptically. 

"Yeah." You pat your lap again. Abby is unsure and she feels ridiculous: she is not a lap dog, she is a fucking German shepherd.

"I'm too big to sit in your lap, baby." 

"Do I look like I give a fuck?" You deadpan. "Big girls need to sit on their lover's lap too. Come here."

Abby blinks. She likes that she is big and tall - it makes her feel powerful, but it comes with a cost. She doesn't get to feel small. And you asking her to sit on your lap opens something so desperate in her she gets scared. Abby knows she won't feel small, but she wants to try anyway. Abby tentatively makes her way to you, still unsure how it will work, but you tug her lightly and she straddles you. Abby feels like she is a giant on top of you, and she doesn't really remember where to put her hands. She settles on your shoulders.

"This is awkward." Abby assesses, frowning. 

"It's not. Sit, Abby, I can feel that you're hovering. I'm not going to break, I'm not made of dust." You push at her thighs so she can spread them and finally sit. You seem pretty happy with this, hugging her by her waist and pressing her closer to you. Abby is getting used to this, but it still seems ridiculous to her. She is used to tugging you to sit on her lap, not the other way around. 

"Am I too heavy?"

"I like feeling your weight on me. Makes it feel real." You grin and stroke her back. "Really, relax. I can read to you if you want."

Abby doesn't really know what to do. She has no arguments against you, and your lap is very comfortable. As well as being this close to you, feeling your body, your breathing, your warmth. 

"Yeah, okay. We can do that."

Abby does what you usually do when she reads: she puts her head on your shoulder and lets you snake your arms around her. 

"Good." You comment and hold the book with one hand while you stroke Abby's back with the other one. 

You are warm and your smell is comforting, so Abby puts her nose into the crook of your neck and breathes in.

"Yeah. Breathe. Deep big breaths." You say offhandedly as you look through the pages. It's weird. Abby feels safe and taken care of and it feels good, but it is too unfamiliar to be comfortable with it. 

"Would it be too childish of me to say: I want? But I do want: theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. Yet not all these can do more than try to lure the soul from its den where it sulks in busy heaps of filth and obstinate clods of bloody pulp. I must find a core of fruitful seeds in me. I must stop identifying with the seasons, because this English winter will be the death of me-" You've read out loud and Abby suddenly resonates with the first line. Would it be too childish of her to say: she wants your care? 

"What is this?"

"Sylvia Plath's diaries."

"She sounds dramatic." Abby murmurs into your neck while you are caressing her back. Fuck it feels so good. She is so safe. 

"Bitch is all over the place sometimes. But she is a poet."

You kiss Abby's head and she leans into your touch, surprising herself. She isn't usually… needy, but right now something is different. The sudden safety of your arms around her, your calm voice and familiar smell makes Abby feel dangerously vulnerable. 

"You feel pretty relaxed." You notice as you now stroking her head, putting all annoying baby hairs behind her ear. 

"Yeah. It's so weird though."

You chuckle.

"In what way?"

"Usually it's you who sits in my lap. But this is good. Just weird."

"I think the word you're looking for is unfamiliar."

"Are you a thesaurus?" 

You laugh and kiss her forehead. Abby nuzzles her nose into your neck and your breath hitches. 

You know Abby doesn't mean to get you horny with her breathing, but you are getting horny. 

"Come here." You tell her and Abby lifts her head just enough for you to kiss her. She is warm and welcoming, doesn't rush anywhere and you are not rushing either, just enjoying the kiss. Abby relaxes into you and it surprises both of you - she isn't a person who gives up control easily. Hell, the whole thing started because Abby couldn't deal with people not doing everything like she told them to. But you feel how she puts more weight on you and you buck your hips into her. 

"Okay yeah. Still weird, but good." Abby pants into your mouth. You dig your fingers into her ass and press her into your crotch. "Oh fuck."

"Wanna make you cum." You say, panting yourself as arousal takes the hold of you. "What do you think?"

Abby looks at you with a lifted brow. 

"You think I'm going to say no?"

"Well." You kiss her jaw. "I don't plan on letting you do anything at all, so, maybe take a moment to think about it."

Abby stares at you as your words settle in. She will what, just lie there and do nothing? It sounds wrong, it sounds like she is going to be out of control, but also…

Also it sounds like the sweetest sin she could commit. 

"If you're not sure, we can stop. Like, fully. Or at any point you want to." You stroke her cheeks with your thumbs as you watch Abby. You know she is apprehensive about this idea, but you want her to relax fully and forget about everything. And you know you can give it to her if she just says yes. 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. We can do that." Abby smiles bashfully and you kiss her, so fucking grateful for how brave she is. 

It's one thing to stare death in her face and win, and the other thing to stare in your lover's face and decide to trust them completely. And any other day Abby would have chosen death, but with you the danger can't get safer than this. 

So Abby lets herself relax into you again and just enjoy your touch. 

"Thanks." 

Abby chuckles, but it turns into a gasp as you move your lips down her neck while your hands are tugging on her shirt. Abby helps you take the shirt and the bra off, and you just caress her sides, looking over her. 

Abby knows you like how she looks, but having your attention like this makes her nervous. Your eyes are so dark with hunger Abby wants to look away but she doesn't, as sudden greed for your love washes over her. You look at her like you want to devour her. 

"Pretty." You sigh as you smile. "You're so pretty, Abs."

"I don't think pretty is the right word."

"Beautiful?"

Abby huffs but can't help her smile.

"Gorgeous?"

"Stop it." Abby says, playfully stern. "You're so sappy, god."

You grin and kiss her again, shutting her up - if you say she is pretty, she is, and whatever Abby thinks of herself is totally irrelevant. Your lips make a trail from her neck to her shoulder and you gently kiss her freckles, listening to Abby's breathing closely: it gets heavier as you move your kisses down, and these small sighs are the greatest encouragement you can get. 

You slowly move one of your hands up and cup Abby's tit, kneading her doughy flesh as she gasps. 

"Feels nice?"

"Yeah." Abby murmurs and runs her hand over your hair. It's still hard to let go so she tries to occupy herself in some way. She gently massages your neck and you kiss her just above her nipple. "Yeah, this is nice."

"Good. Let's take your pants off, I need them out of the way."

Your intonation makes Abby throb in her pants - it sounds so commanding and for once in her life she doesn't want to fight it, no, she wants to obey - it's easy with you. Safe. 

Abby stands from your lap and you help her take her pants and underwear off, making a small pile on the floor. Abby reaches to tug your shirt off, but you gently push her hands away. 

"Relax, baby. Don't worry about anything, okay?" You tug her back into your lap and sigh so happily when you touch her bare skin. "Your job right now is just to be pretty. Can you do that?"

Abby is conflicted: you don't sound patronising, but it should sound patronising, shouldn't it? She stops for a second to understand her reaction and you just watch her. You know Abby needs some time to process what is happening, so you continue caressing her back and her pretty ass that makes you drool while Abby figures out how she feels about your new behaviour. 

"Well I can try." Abby shrugs and you smile. 

"Thanks. I wanna call you princess, you know?" You kiss her neck and leave a hickey on her collarbone. 

"Call me what?" Abby laughs in the middle of her gasp at how ridiculous it sounds, but it's not a bad laugh. It's just embarrassing. "I'm no princess, (y/n)."

"Would you actually mind if I called you that?" You kiss her breastbone and Abby watches you. 

"Don't think so." Abby pants and looks at you impatiently as you finally move your lips to her tits. 

"Princess." You murmur and look into her eyes while her cheeks become bright red. "My pretty princess." You suck on her nipple gently and Abby gasps, squeezing your shoulders. The pet name turns her on - a lot of things turn her on right now even though they're weird and embarrassing.

You play with her other nipple and Abby presses closer to you, so you let your restraints go and use all your strength to move her closer to the point where her back is arched. Abby sighs, surprised - obviously Abby knows you are strong (not as strong as her, but strong nonetheless), but she never actually experienced it. Maybe you can make her feel small. Maybe you can make her feel like no one else could before. 

You slowly move your hands up Abby’s muscular thighs, caressing every line with your fingertips - Abby is too hot for her own good, and the hungry monster that lives inside you claws at your chest, desperate to have its way with Abby and make her forget her fucking name, but you’re patient. You would never push Abby into something she isn’t ready for, especially in sex, but you want to show her an alternative. Show that she can let herself forget her fucking name and it will be safe. Because god knows Abby needs it.

Abby watches your hands in anticipation and you smirk at her when you place your hands on conjunctions of her hips, caressing her hip bones with your thumbs. Abby is soft here, but her V-line makes her look sharp and hard, and it gets to your head. 

“I fucking love how strong you are, you have no idea.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Abby chuckles, but she is impatient, so she grabs your hand and moves it down to her pussy. 

“Hey, don’t spoil the fun.” You scold her playfully and bring your hand back. “I’m not going to keep you waiting, princess. Relax.”

Abby feels how her face burns when you call her princess again, but it gets her wet, so impossibly wet there's probably a dark spot on your pants under her. Abby grinds her hips down, searching for some friction, and you push your hips up to let her have it. Abby shudders as her clit grinds down on your pelvis and her hands clutch your shoulders almost painfully as she tries to set a pace of her hips. 

"This is so hot, Abs. Fuck." You tell her as you watch her get off just grinding on you. You grab her ass and help her grind harder and Abby whimpers quietly, and your brain barely holds back your filthy mouth. You want to tell Abby how good she is, how she is doing such a good job getting herself off, but you hold it back for now. 

The friction is not enough and you know it, so you lock her in place with one arm around her waist, praying she'd listen to you, and snake your other hand between your bodies. 

Abby is so fucking wet your eyes roll back into your scull from how hard it turns you on. 

"You're so wet, princess." You murmur into her ear and Abby whimpers again. "You okay?"

Abby just nods and it clicks. Abby is getting overwhelmed, but she clings to you so you figure out it's a good overwhelmed. 

"Do you like it when I call you princess?" You ask mostly to make sure, but it sounds so seductive to Abby, a little mean maybe but in a good way. 

"It's embarrassing." Abby admits and squirms around when you cup her pussy. Finally. 

"Do you want me to stop?" You ask gently and look in her eyes, serious. Abby looks back, but her eyes are glazed over, she is too horny to care about being embarrassed by this point. 

"No. Don't stop." Abby grinds against your hand and you press her closer to make her stop. 

"You wanna cum already?"

"You keep fucking teasing me." Abby says, annoyed.

"I'm taking my time." You kiss her cheek and part her folds carefully, circling her clit with two fingers and Abby buries her head into your neck, moaning. You stroke her back to soothe her, but your fingers only get faster, the pressure is featherlight and it drives Abby crazy because it will get her to cum way too fast, and you know it. 

"Yeah, that's right, princess. Relax and enjoy, yeah?" You can't stop talking now, desperate to praise Abby and make her feel safe in your arms. "Does it feel good?"

"I- I can't fucking-" Abby moans between her words, clinging to you harder as your fingers get her closer to her release. "Icantfuckingthink" Abby says in one breath and you barely make sense of it.

"Oh princess, don't. Don't think, okay? Be good for me." You pay closer attention to her reaction, not sure if Abby would like it, but she is too out of it now. She whines - fucking hell Abby whines - and presses closer to you.

"Yeah, I'll take care of you, I'll make you feel good." You promise her and slide your fingers down, gently pressing at her hole. Abby arches into your fingers, trying to get them inside, and your heart melts. "You're so cute, fuck. You want my fingers?" 

Abby growls at you, refusing to talk, and you chuckle. 

"Just nod for me, okay? Or shake your head."

Abby takes a second to process your words and then she nods. 

"Good girl." 

That makes Abby open her eyes in shock and her walls clench around nothing to push her slick into your hand, and you can tell she liked it. 

"Can I call you that, princess?" You slowly push your fingers inside and just move them to feel how soft and hot Abby is. She suddenly grinds down on your hand and you kiss her shoulder. "Nod or shake." You remind her. 

Abby nods, her embarrassment totally forgotten by this point: she feels small, safe and taken care of, and the way you talk to her only makes it better. Your stupid spidey senses let you know when to check in with her and Abby never knew it could be this way - that giving consent can turn her on so much because you ask for it like you're dirty talking to her. 

And you are so close and you hold her so tightly Abby feels grounded even though she is so overwhelmed she can't think anymore. She just feels, her world only exists in the tactile plane now, and your voice carries her away. 

"Yeah, don't think, princess, I want your head empty and your pretty cunt stuffed with my fingers." You murmur into Abby's ear and she buries her face in your neck deeper as you curl your fingers inside her. Abby moans quietly and you feel how you lose any self-control you had before. 

You pick up the pace, catching the balance between overwhelmingly fast and not fast enough just so you won't disturb Abby's delicate headspace, and you just listen to her. Abby is not loud, never been, but that what makes it so magical - every sigh turns into a quiet whimper the longer you fuck her, and then you feel it, how Abby clenches around your fingers, her orgasm coming closer. 

"You're close, princess, I can fucking feel it. Do you feel it? Does it feel nice when you're so tight around me?"

"Yeah." Abby says in a hoarse low voice and your teeth fucking ache because you want to sink them into her so much. 

"Fuck Abby." You kiss her temple and suddenly you're fucking her so hard Abby gets tense in your arms, overwhelmed. "You have no idea what you do to me."

But Abby is not listening to you because you turn your hand just enough so you could thumb her clit and-

"Fuck!" Abby shrieks and closes her thighs on you as she cums. You stop moving your fingers inside her to enjoy how she pulsates around them, but you continue thumbing her clit."Fuck-fuck, stop-" Abby asks when it becomes too much and you obey her. 

Abby is panting hard and you just kiss her neck and shoulders, waiting for her to calm down, but you can't help yourself so you start slowly moving your fingers in and out. 

"You feel amazing around my fingers, princess."

"Fuck, don't stop, please, don't fucking stop-" Abby whispers and hugs you around your neck. You’re more than happy to oblige, and you can’t help your mean smile as you move your fingers slowly but thoroughly, getting a feel of every centimetre of Abby’s walls. 

It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Abby to whimper and shudder in your arms again, drenching your hand up to your wrist, and you gently kiss her to help her calm down. Abby is limp on your lap, her head comfortably tucked in your neck as she pants. Abby feels exhausted but ridiculously happy, giddy even - you opened something in her, something that freed her vulnerability fully. God, Abby always knew she could trust you, let you watch her back, but the thought she could be so vulnerable and small with you never crossed her mind.

“Do you want to nap, baby?” You murmur in her hair and Abby hums in agreement. “Okay, let me put your shirt back on, yeah?”

Abby reluctantly lets you put the shirt on her and wrap a blanket around both of you as you adjust your position so you’d be lying down while Abby would be on top of you, so it would be comfortable for her to rest. You open your book again while Abby’s breathing evens out.

“I am watching a pale blue sky be torn across by wind fresh from the russian steppes. Why is it that I find it so difficult to accept the present moment, whole as an apple, without cutting and hacking at it to find a purpose, or setting it up on a shelf with other apples to measure its worth or trying to pickle it in brine to preserve it, and crying to find it turns all brown and is no longer simply the lovely apple I was given in the morning?”

The present moment, whole as an apple - Abby doesn’t have to worry about not accepting it, lulled by your voice and your warmth and your smell - after all, the present is all she has.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Jealousy Is A Disease 🟢

⚣🟢 A/N → DON'T ASK ME WHY, I DON'T KNOW OKAY! I just can't write a Hal Jordan fic without making it about his incessant need to be better than Superman. I'M TRYING OKAY! anyway, hope you like it. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Major Dub-Con Themes | M-Preg Themes | Penetrative Sex | Fingering | Overstimulation | Alpha Hal Jordan | JL Omega Male Reader |

⚣🟢 Summary → Y/N's knows he's got a little heat brewing between him and Superman, but something is going to get in the way of that. He should've known better than to have entered into any sort of arrangement with Hal Jordan. Not only was the man super cocky and sarcastic, but he was literally green with envy.

⚣🟢 Words → 3.7K

REBLOGS & replies are appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🟢

The Watchtower had been relatively quiet.

Y/N had been talking with Clark about some matters related to supervillains' plots, potential recruits, and a bunch of other mumbo jumbo that he wasn't really paying attention to because he was too busy eyeing the Kryptonian's body. The Omega knew his heat was getting close and that he would probably have to take some time off soon to deal with it.

But, it didn't stop him from imagining Clark's large and muscled body over his while they rutted against each other all sweaty and hot and-

"Y/N? You ok there?" Clark's voice interrupted his thoughts, the Omega blushing when he saw the look on the man's face. He had noticed his staring and it had probably led him to realize the nature of his thoughts.

The Kryptonian had a knowing smirk on his face, though. He'd been more or less aware of the Omega's attraction towards him, and it definitely wasn't one-sided. Clark may not have been an Alpha by nature of his Kryptonian biology, but it didn't mean he didn't consider himself to be one in many aspects. He certainly had the physique of one, and he did have a few...kinks that came with the territory.

"I-I'm sorry, I got a little distracted." Y/N chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks heating up. He didn't know how the Kryptonian would react to his blatant display of lust, but he didn't think it would be bad. Clark was always so nice to him and he had a good sense of humor. Plus, the Omega really wanted to know what was under those suits.

"Don't worry about it. You know I get distracted too sometimes." The Kryptonian smiled, his eyes lingering on Y/N's flushed face before traveling down the length of his body. The Omega suit was one for the books, the tight-fitting material leaving nothing to the imagination. Y/N looked damn good, and he knew it.

"So, uh, what were we talking about again?" Y/N asked, clearing his throat.

While the two continued their little flirtatious and flustered dialogue, neither of them was aware of the presence watching them through the door, his eyes under his green mask narrowing in anger and jealousy.

Later that night, Y/N was getting ready to head home. His heat was coming closer and closer, and he knew he had to spend his next few days in his apartment and away from everyone.

As the Omega neared the Zeta Gateway that would take him back to the Hall of Justice, his arm was suddenly snatched and he was pulled into an empty room. Y/N was ready to fight whoever it was, but a familiar scent invaded his senses.

"Hey there, sexy. Missed me?" Green Lantern smirked as he looked down at the Omega's shocked face.

"Hal! What the hell are you doing?" Y/N whispered. "Someone might see us!"

"I was just thinking that maybe we could have a little fun before you go home. It's not like anyone's gonna come here at this hour." Hal said as he moved closer to Y/N, backing him toward the wall.

"I have to go. My heat's coming up." The Omega said, stopping him before he could make any more moves.

"You always say that. And then we end up fucking anyway."

"Not this time. I need to rest. It's going to be a very intense one." Y/N tried to reason, but the Alpha wasn't having it.

"C'mon, baby. Just one more time." Hal whispered in his ear, his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "Let me have a taste."

The Alpha leaned forward and began kissing and biting Y/N's neck, his hands moving to grip his waist. The Omega could feel his arousal getting excited at the stimulation, but he had to stay strong. He knew his body would crave an Alpha's touch during his heat, and there was a certain blue and red-wearing superhero that he was more interested in.

"H-Hal, no! Stop!" Y/N said, pushing him away. "No more of this. I'm not gonna let you fuck me anymore, understand?"

"What the hell's gotten into you?" The Alpha growled. "You're always begging for it, and now you're pushing me away?"

"Yeah, well, things change." Y/N sighed, moving to leave the room. "Just stay away from me."

"Who is it, huh?" Hal asked, blocking his way.

"It's not like that," Y/N said, knowing full well he was lying through his teeth, "It's just that I think we should keep things strictly professional from now on."

"Bullshit. You weren't concerned about keeping things professional all the times I fingered you during meetings. Or all the times you sucked me off in the training room."

"Hal, I–"

"Did you care about professionalism when I fucked your tight little cunt while Batman was right outside that door? Or when you rode my dick in the showers? Huh?" Hal said, his voice raising a bit.

"Quit it, Hal. You're being rid–"

"Or all the close calls we had when I knotted you without a condom, and you thought you were gonna get pregnant? I bet you were hoping for it, weren't you?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Y/N shouted, his patience running thin. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Jordan. Now, move."

"Oh, now you're giving me orders? Is that how it is?" Hal growled, his own Alpha pheromones responding.

"Will you please shut the fuck up?!" Y/N growled, his scent turning sour. He couldn't believe the nerve of this man!

"No, you shut the fuck up! You're acting like a whore who's too good for me." Hal growled, his scent becoming heavier with the stench of anger.

"A whore, huh? I'm a whore for letting you fuck me whenever you wanted, and now I'm a whore for wanting to stop the fuck-fest, is that it? You're the one who wanted this, remember? You're the one who was all up on me in the first place, so don't play the victim."

"You're such a fucking tease. You act like a slut and then you expect me to leave you alone?"

"Yeah, and I'm also an Omega who could easily have an Alpha whenever I want. Don't forget that."

Hal clearly didn't like the mention of that. He was an Alpha, Air Force pilot and a Green Lantern. He wasn't supposed to be a side dish.

"I'm not someone you can fuck whenever you're bored, Y/N." The Alpha growled, his scent spiking.

"Well, guess what, Jordan, I'm not your toy either. We both had our fun, but I'm done with this. I don't want you anymore, and I certainly don't need you. So, move."

Before Y/N could move an inch, Hal lunged at him, tackling him to the conference table in the middle of the room. The two of them started wrestling and fighting, the Omega's pheromones spiking as he did his best to keep his body in check while trying to get the upper hand.

The fight didn't last long, though.

Y/N was soon pinned underneath the Alpha, his wrists in a tight grip above his head. Hal's free hand was holding his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"I can't believe you'd say something like that to me. After everything we've been through." The Alpha said, his voice low.

"Let go of me." Y/N struggled, trying to get out of the Alpha's hold.

"Not until you admit that you want me. That you're mine."

"In your dreams, Jordan. I don't belong to you. I'm not some prize that you can claim."

"I can do whatever I want. I'm an Alpha and I'm Green Lantern," Hal smirked, his grip on Y/N's wrists tightening as he rubbed the hard-on throbbing under his suit against the weaker male, "And you're an Omega. My Omega. You're gonna submit."

"You're not my Alpha, and you may be Green Lantern, but you'll never be Superman," Y/N said, ignoring the pleasurable tingles running through his body from the Alpha grinding against him while sporting his spiteful little smirk at the Alpha, "You'll never be him."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hal questioned with a growl.

"I know you're jealous of him, Hal. You put on this cocky, self-assured facade, but deep down, you hate that Superman is everything you wish you could be. He's not even technically an Alpha and yet, everyone respects him. Everyone trusts him. He's the perfect hero, and you're not."

"You're wrong."

Y/N could see he was hitting some nerves, and despite the warnings in his head telling him to stop, he couldn't, "Am I? So why is it that every time he's near me, you're always watching me? Always trying to get my attention. You're always trying to assert your dominance as if that's going to make me want you more."

"Stop talking," Hal ordered, not even realizing how he was slowly grinding his hard erection against the Omega's slick dripping heat, the friction from their uniforms making it all the more pleasurable.

"You're always going on and on about how you're an Alpha and Superman's not, and yet, he's the first person who comes to mind when anyone thinks of a traditional or a perfect Alpha."

"That's enough."

"And what does that say about you, Hal?"

"Shut the fuck up!" The Alpha roared, his scent becoming suffocating as he tightened his hold on Y/N's wrists, his hips rutting faster and harder against the Omega's crotch.

"You're a disgrace to the Green Lantern Corps, Hal. And you're a disgrace to the Air Force." Y/N continued, his eyes blazing with a mix of fury and lust as he stared at the Alpha above him.

"That's not true," Hal said, his voice faltering slightly.

"Is it? Because the way I see it, you're nothing more than a second-rate Green Lantern, a third-rate Alpha, and a fifth-rate superhero," The Omega ended, a venom to his words as he tauntingly smiled at the Alpha rutting against his body, his scent sweetening as his orgasm arrived already due to the increasingly sensitive state of his body from his heat approaching.

"SHUT UP!"

Hal lost control, his instincts taking over as he ripped the fabric of Y/N's suit. He couldn't stand the disrespect and the insults, and he needed to make the Omega eat his words. He needed to show he was better than the Kryptonian. He had to himself as the stronger Alpha, as the only Alpha.

He needed to prove that he was the best.

Y/N's moans were music to his ears, his slick coating his fingers as he pushed two digits inside the smaller male's tight cunt, the Alpha growling in arousal as the warmth wrapped around him. The Omega had to grip the edges of the table that he could reach to keep himself steady as his body rocked with overwhelming stimulation from Hal's fingers entering him so roughly while he was still in the middle of his first orgasm.

"A-ah, fuck ... ! H-Hal, stop.." Y/N moaned, his legs shaking as his walls fluttered around the Alpha's fingers.

His hand was around the Omega's throat, squeezing tightly as he forced him to look at him, "Don't you ever say those things to me again. Do you hear me? I'm not a failure. I'm not a failure."

"You are...a failure." Y/N choked out, his eyes watering.

At this point, the Omega had slowly given into his body's most primal desires, his mindset slowly slipping into that of a sex-crazed, needy little shit who just wanted to get fucked and knotted, thanks to his heat.

The Alpha snarled at the insult, his fingers thrusting deeper and harder. His thumb rubbed circles around the Omega's nub, the bundle of nerves sending jolts of pleasure up the smaller male's body. His focus had become solely on proving himself. He needed to show the Omega who was in charge.

"Stop saying that! Stop it! You're lying!" Hal growled, his pace quickening.

"Y-you're a f-failure. You'll...never be Superman," Y/N panted, his mind growing clouded. "You'll never b-be my A-Alpha."

"I'll be your Alpha. I'll be better than him. Better than any of them."

Within just another few minutes, The Alpha pulled another mind-shattering orgasm from the Omega, his scent heavy and intoxicating. He pulled out his fingers, licking his lips as he watched the mixed slick and cum dripping from them. He moved his hand up to the Omega's mouth, smearing the wetness across his lips.

"Suck them."

"No..." Y/N whimpered, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Do it. Now." Hal demanded, his grip on the Omega's neck tightening.

The squeeze against the smaller male's neck had his mouth opening with a quiet yelp in reflex, allowing the Alpha's fingers to enter. The taste was sweet and salty, and the Alpha couldn't help but growl in arousal as he watched the Omega suck his digits clean.

"That's it, baby. Get them nice and clean. You like the taste of your body, don't you?"

Once the Alpha had pulled his fingers out, the Omega's eyes were glazed over. His scent was so strong and thick, and it was almost enough to make the Alpha's knees weak. He wasn't done yet, though. He still needed to show no one was better than him.

Especially not Superman.

Hal ripped the front of his Green Lantern uniform open (it was okay, it magically came on and off anyway), exposing his toned chest and abs. His cock sprung free, already leaking precum. He positioned himself at the Omega's entrance, his tip rubbing against the wet entrance.

"Look at me." The Alpha growled, grabbing the Omega's chin.

Y/N's gaze was half-lidded, his pupils blown wide. His skin was flushed and his breathing was heavy. He could feel the Alpha's cock throbbing against him, the tip catching on his rim every so often.

"Still think I'm a failure? Still think I'm not good enough?" Hal growled.

"You're not..."

Y/N cried out as the Alpha entered him roughly, the sudden intrusion making him clench around the thick shaft. His body was overly sensitive, and the feeling of being filled was almost too much. He couldn't stop his hips from rolling forward, his thighs shaking.

"Oh, God...!"

"Doesn't seem like I'm a failure, does it?"

"Fuck...Hal, please, I can't take it.." Y/N begged, his body trembling.

"No, you'll take it. You'll take every inch of me." The Alpha growled, his hands gripping the Omega's waist as he began thrusting in and out, his pace fast and rough.

"No, please, Hal...stop, I can't...!"

"You can, and you will."

Hal's fingers dug into Y/N's sides, his thrusts growing faster and harder. His eyes were trained on the Omega's face, taking in the sight of his tear-stained cheeks and the drool dripping from his lips. The scent coming from the smaller male was so sweet and tempting, the Alpha's nostrils flaring as he breathed it in.

"Fuck, you're always so tight. Such a good little Omega for me."

"N-no, I'm not...I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. You're mine. My Omega."

The Alpha leaned forward, his teeth grazing the Omega's neck. He could feel the smaller male's pulse-quickening, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath ghosted across his skin.

"You're mine, Y/N. No one else's."

"H-Hal..."

"You're gonna be my mate, and you're gonna carry my seed and give me my first kid. I deserve it. I'm a better Alpha than any of them."

"N-nh ... ah ... n-no."

"Yes, you will. I'll fill you up with my cum, and I'll make sure it takes."

Hal leaned down over the Omega's body, his front pressing against the smaller male's chest as he continued his relentless assault on his cunt. His thrusts were deep and hard, the sound of their skin slapping together filling the air.

"Mine...mine...mine." The Alpha growled, his lips ghosting over the Omega's jaw and neck.

"H-Hal, please...it h-hurts." Y/N choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks as his hands clawed at the Alpha's wrist.

"Yeah, that's right. Beg. Who's a third-rate Alpha now, huh? Who's a failure now, Y/N?" Hal snarled while nipping the Omega's jaw and neck, the sound of the conference table creaking and groaning under their weight.

Y/N had already been through his third climax at this point, his body overstimulated and sore all over from the Alpha's rough treatment. He couldn't think straight, his mind overwhelmed by the pleasure and pain coursing through him.

"H-Hal, no, s-stop, p-plea–"

The Omega's cries were cut off by the Alpha's hand wrapping around his throat, squeezing tightly.

"Shut the fuck up. I'll let you breathe and talk when you're ready to admit who you belong to. Not before."

"H-Hal..."

The Alpha's hips were slamming into the Omega's, the sound of their bodies coming together echoing throughout the room. His knot was swelling, his thrusts growing more and more erratic.

Hal had never fucked him so brutally before, landing a harsh slap on the side of his bottom every so often while squeezing his neck even tighter. His insides felt like they were on fire, his walls clenching and throbbing around the Alpha's length.

"All that talk earlier and now look at you, crying and begging for me to stop. What happened to you thinking I'm a failure, huh? Did you change your mind?"

"I-I d-didn't. Y-you're a f-failure." Y/N managed to choke out despite his oxygen-deprived brain.

The Alpha's thrusts grew even harder, his knot catching on the Omega's rim every so often. He was close, his cock pulsating and throbbing inside the smaller male. He leaned up to stare the smaller male in the face, preparing to breed the smart-mouth brat while glaring at him through his mask.

"I can't wait to see Superman's face when you're round with my kid, knowing that you'll be mine and no one else's. And it'd better be a boy and an Alpha, or we'll be right back where we started," Hal growled, his grip on the Omega's throat tightening once more.

He continued hammering away at the Omega's heat, getting closer and closer to his end while Y/N approached his fourth, "Hope you weren't planning on having that weak Kryptonian with you during your heat. Because I'm gonna fuck you until you're pregnant, and then you're not gonna leave my side until I know you're carrying my child."

"P-perv..." Y/N weakly muttered, the Alpha's thrusts hitting his sweet spot repeatedly as he was forced to look into the Alpha's mask.

"Say what you want, but you know you're mine. And don't think I'm not going to punish you for those words earlier. I'll have you gagged and tied to the bed until you're carrying my kid. No protection this time."

Despite the lack of air in his lungs, Y/N, through the cloggy fog of his sex-muddled brain managed to mutter out one more thing before meeting his fate on the Green Lantern's knot, "I'd rather have Superman's kid than your failure spawn."

And just like that, Hal's grip on his throat tightened and his knot swelled and caught inside the Omega's hot cavern, his cock releasing his hot load while he growled, "That's it. You're gonna get it now."

Hal's knot kept his cum from spilling out of the Omega's throbbing walls, his grip tightening even more around the Omega's neck as he choked the life out of the smaller male.

The seething anger across Hal's face as he bred the Omega with his cum while he struggled to breathe was the last thing Y/N saw before blacking out.

While Y/N slipped into unconsciousness, Hal got the eerie feeling he was being watched, turning to see a trail of a familiar red cape through the small window in the door.

Superman.

The Alpha felt a sense of accomplishment and superiority, smirking as his hand squeezed the Omega's neck and the other ran down his body, settling at the base of his stomach, "Don't worry, Y/N, I'll take care of you. I'll prove to you who's the best Alpha. Just you wait."

When his knot finally deflated, Hal pulled out his limp cock from the Omega's sloppy hole. He watched as his cum spilled out of the smaller male's pink and puffy cunt, his fingers scooping some up. He pushed it back inside, his smirk growing wider.

He re-formed his entire suit while doing his best to cover him before slinging his unconscious form over his shoulder, making his way out of the room and the Hall. He was going to have his Omega, whether he liked it or not.

He was going to breed him and make him bear his child, and no one was going to stop him.

Hal had been walking for a few minutes when a large gust of wind nearly knocked him over, Superman standing before him, his expression unreadable, "What the hell do you want, Kryptonian?"

"Give him to me."

"No."

"That wasn't a request, Jordan," Clark growled, his eyes narrowing, "Give him to me."

"I don't think so. I'm the only Alpha here, and I'm going to take him back home. I'll show him that I'm the better man. And there's nothing you can do but accept it," Hal said, a hint of smugness in his voice.

"Like hell, I am," Clark said, his eyes glowing red.

Hal barely had time to react before the Omega was ripped from his shoulder and cradled in Superman's arms, "What the hell?! Get your hands off him, you bastard!"

"I'm not the bastard, Hal. That title goes to you," Clark growled, his tone cold, "Now, stay away from Y/N. If I find out you've touched him again, I'll personally deliver your ring back to Oa myself. Got it?"

The Green Lantern was left speechless, watching as the Kryptonian flew off with the Omega. He was pissed, and he knew he had to get him back. He wouldn't let Superman steal what was rightfully his.

"Alright, then. Round three it is, fly-boy."

☀️ | Hal Jordan/Green Lantern | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crash and Burn 5

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Tony Stark

Summary: a powerful man comes crashing into your life. Literally.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit on the back porch, reading a book as you avoid the dingy tabacco laden walls inside. After claiming a couple slices of pizza, you quickly evacuated, your mom latched onto your guest like gum beneath a diner table. You're happy enough to be alone.

You just want it all done with. You want to be done with him.

Your mom just needs to do one thing. Get the trailer and be done with the man overdosing on his own ego. She's never been on to let things go, especially nothing like this.

The screen door opens and closes. You stay as you are.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Tony declares as he approaches. You look up as he stands behind you.

“What do you mean?” You close the book and stand, not liking how his pant leg touches your arm. You face him as his mouth slants, the silver in his goatee catching the dimming sunlight.

“Me. Gonna take you for another ride.” He rests his hand on the wooden railing as you stand on the step below.

“No,” you say bluntly. “I have work tomorrow so I need to go get ready for bed.”

“What’s the matter? If you don’t like pepperoni, you could’ve said something,” he tilts his head. "I thought you had extensive experience with meat... workong in a deli and all."

“Really? You know this isn’t about the pizza,” you sneer.

“I know what it’s about as well as you.” He steps closer and looks down at you. “It’s this.”

He swirls his finger between you.

You narrow your eyes and grimace. “This... what?”

“Sexual tension. It’s like a noose, isn’t it? I’m close to gagging.”

You glare back at him, “you really believe every woman on earth wants you?”

“I know it so let's stop fucking around just get to the fucking.” He winks.

You laugh. A snort then a scoff then a guffaw. “Wow, what a line. Look you can buy us pizza and replace what you owe us but I'm nor impressed. You city people think we're all just a bunch of trailer trash and maybe we are, doesn't mean we wanna be like you.”

“Oh, but you definitely want me,” he intones.

You sigh, “I want to go to my room and never see you again.”

“I like that. The hard-to-get thing always gets me going.” He gets closer and you lean away.

“The hard to stand thing doesn't do it for me,” you retort. “Thanks for doing the bare minimum but I'm over it. Either we get what you destroyed or you go back and laugh at your little mistake with your rich buddies.”

“You're sounding bitter, sweetheart. Why don't you let me give you some sugar?” He reaches for you and you dodge his hand.

“Please, quit that. I told you, I am not into it.”

“You aren't? Well your mom sure is. Yeah, we made quite the deal. She's going to get her trailer and an empty nest.” He puts his hands out in nonchalance, “what can I say? I'm a great negotiator.”

“What–”

“Well, I mean you're not going anywhere here. Working at a deli and for what? I told her, you don't gotta be stuck here. Eating off her table, living under her roof. You're an adult.” He crosses his arms and smirks.

Yep, that sounds like your mom. She's reminded you a billion times how you've burdened her with your existence, just as your grandmother does to her. And he plucked on that string until he hit a harmony.

“What did you do?” You ask.

“You make it sound like I did something wrong. Sweetheart, I'm doing you a favour. I'm getting you out of this pit. A girl like you, you can't hope for better because I'll tell you something, there's nothing out there better than Tony Stark.”

He preens in victory. You squint and clap the book against your leg.

“Come on, everyone should see New York at least once,” he tries to tap your nose and you evade him, but not entirely. Instead, he hits your chest and you feel a sudden constriction across it.

Your ripped up by your chest as metal expands and twists around your torso. You shriek as you fly upwards, encased in a cocoon the blocks out the wind. The propulsion of the suit has you disoriented and rattling.

You hear a whir and look over to see the marquee red and gold of the iconic Iron Man. Tony grabs you, your gauntlet caught against his like a magnet, and he zooms off onto sky, dragging you with him. You cry out as you can do nothing but flail.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he voice comes through the speakers built into the helmet, “you don't wanna pass out in this thing. Trust me.”

“What the hellllllll!” You holler.

“Just wait till you see that New York skyline,” he chortles.

Your disbelief paralyses you. How can he do this? Well, you can't stop him. He's been enabled his whole life and you've just become another pawn to his games.

[yanderenightmare]

can you expand on your idea of bully ! Tsukishima from haikyuu??? please, it sounded delicious uwu

Tsukishima Kei

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, exhibitionism, "fingering in public"

♡ fem reader

Dinkerbell

“Tch- look at you sitting here like a bookworm~” 

His words snuck up on you from behind, making you suck in a gasp where you sat, concentrating in the quiet library with a pen in your notes and your nose in a textbook – shrinking in your seat under the mean glare of the librarian who told you to hush.

“Who’re you tryna fool, huh?” Tsukishima crudely continued in spite of it, gripping the back of your chair while leaning over – his lips brushing the shell of your ear while he whispered. “Everyone knows you’re just a pretty pair of tits on legs- tch, no one expects there to be any actual brains in here.”

You pursed your lips with furrowed brows and rose from your chair, casting a sour look up at him through the slim glasses he looked down at you through – his face soft but with a sly smirk curling his lips.

You didn’t have time to humor him, you thought while gathering your books into your bag – this assignment wouldn’t figure itself out, no matter how hard you wished it would.

“Aw, come on~ you know I'm just joking~” He stopped you – snatching the textbook out from your flimsy grip and lifting it higher than you could reach.

“It's not very funny, Kei.” You sulked. Halfheartedly grabbing after your book, knowing you wouldn’t reach it either way.

“It’s funny to me.” He replied with a cock of his chin. “Besides, it’s not really my fault you make yourself such an easy target.” Smirk spreading while he glibbed, lazily lowering the book again with eyes giving you a patronizing leer. “You need my help, right?”

You bit your lip, shifting between looking up into his knowing eyes and the heavy calculus book weighed in his palm – then the assignment on the desk. Thinking about how long you’d sat there, pulling on your hair and chewing your pen, stuck on the same equation. 

You gave a defeated huff, sitting back down in surrender – and he offered a soft chuckle, pulling up a chair right beside you, opening the book to the right chapter. 

Your pout never dropped as he started tutoring – staring at the formulas he pointed to with worried eyes, twiddling your pen unsurely with a growing storm of hopeless confusion festering in your head.

You felt close to crying when his arm went from resting on the back of your chair to slipping between you, hand brushing your thigh – traveling beneath your skirt slowly, soon with fingers stroking the warm fabric of your panties.

“Kei…” You whined lowly. “Not here…” Begging with bashful eyes fluttering shyly around the library, terrified that anyone would see.

“You seem distracted… Maybe you want me to tutor you in something else, hm?” He ignored you, keeping his hand tucked between your thighs even as you tried closing them – running his long fingers up and down, teasing your slit through the thin cotton, smiling once feeling you get damp. Despite acting all cute and demure, you’re always so easy.

“We’re in the library, Kei...” You protested, keeping your voice hushed – cheeks heating as your breath flared, trying to keep your hips still.

“Yeah? What better place for you to learn something new?” He said playfully, not bothering with lowering his voice like you as his finger hooked around the trail of your panty and pulled it to the side. “You just need to stay quiet. Shouldn't be hard for someone who never has anything worthwhile to say anyway.”

“Tsukki-” You nagged with an insisting whine, rubbing your knees together to keep him away. Embarrassed and nervous and now hot and bothered – you choked on your heart, praying no one else in the quiet library had taken notice of the two of you.

“Spread wider.” He ordered, unbothered by your concerns – making you yelp with a strict pinch to the inside of your thigh when you didn’t obey. He clicked his tongue. “I told you to keep quiet- I'm not going to detention all because your dumb mouth couldn’t figure out how to shut up.”

You only whimpered with another breath, giving in to his wishes – sinking your teeth into your lip while opening your legs with a quickening heartbeat.

“There you go- good dummy~” He praised, now with a finger diving through your wet slit, up between your swelling pussylips to rub against your perky clitty. 

You moaned under your breath, feeling lightheaded and fuzzy and warm. Withholding further sighs and lusty sounds by biting into your lip, making them come out as petty whimpers instead. Thighs quaking where you fought to keep them open despite the burn in your loins telling you to clamp them shut tight to ride the pleasure that soon washed through you.

“You know… it's okay to be stupid as long as you’re useful in other ways.” He teased – his eyes set on your expression, watching it curl in bliss as you soaked his fingers with slick. Offering a curt chuckle. “And I can think of plenty ways I want to use you.”

He wiped his fingers on your panties and pulled them back in place, patting your cunt in kudos before getting up. 

You were left softly blinking, catching your damp breaths while slowly coming to – enough to see him packing up.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a rush. The half-finished assignment spread on the desk sobering you up – enough to make you pull your thighs back together and send the worry back into your hopeless eyes.

“I gotta spell everything out for you, don’t I?” He sighed, acting exasperated before a grin crept up his face like before. 

He bent down until his face was but a hairs length from yours, one big hand laid flat on the textbook on the desk, balancing him as he curled a finger under your chin. 

“You and I take this assignment back to my place- I finish it for you, and then…” He paused, drumming his fingers on the pages while giving his teeth a quick lick. “I finish you right after.”

You bit your lip in turn, watching him pull his bag up on his shoulder while lifting the book for you to take.

“Sound good?” He asked then, waiting for you with a raised brow.

Smiling once you took the book in both hands with a cute nod to your head. 

“Then hurry it up, Dinkerbell.”

Full altered fic available here:

[krirebr]

More Than This 5

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, all of the Thrombeys being really awful actually, explicit language, references to bad sex, flagrant disregard for HIPAA (actually, just assume that HIPAA doesn't exist in this universe), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Oh god. I promise that there will be a point when this isn't so sad all the time and that point is soon. But it also isn't today. I'm so sorry. 😬

Huge thanks as always to @paperweight91 who listened to me whine and read countless fuzzy screenshots, and gave great advice and was just all around awesome. And to @stargazingfangirl18 who reached out with encouragement when the words just weren't coming.

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Ransom had the complete collection of Harlan’s books. You couldn’t say exactly why that surprised you, but it did. He even had the two poorly-received romance novels Harlan had written under a pseudonym. You hadn’t known the two of them were so close, but then again, you still didn’t really know anything about Ransom.

So that’s what you’d been doing with your days, making your way through Harlan’s complete works. You were currently reading one about an au pair that had been found dead in her charge’s locked nursery when your phone rang. 

Your brow furrowed. The list of people who ever contacted you had gotten much shorter since you’d moved to Boston. Steve, Ransom, Linda unfortunately. That was pretty much it. You looked down at your phone to see your mother’s name. Oh.

You’d expected her to reach out in some way since your wedding and had tried very hard not to feel hurt when she hadn’t. Everyone’s lives had moved on. You were the only one stuck. But you still hadn’t had it in you to be the one who called her. You took a deep breath and answered your phone.

“Hi, Mom.��

“Honey! How are you?”

You kept in your sigh. “I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good,” she said, but she sounded sad. She always sounded so fucking sad. It struck you then, that that’s probably how you’d sound too, in ten or twenty years. Maybe less. Probably a lot less. “It’s so nice to hear your voice honey.”

“Yeah,” you said, and, pathetically, you could feel the tears starting to gather in your eyes. You weren’t angry with her. You couldn’t be. It wasn’t her fault she was so broken. It was inevitable. For all of you. And your frustration with her didn’t change how much you missed her. Missed home. Missed the way things used to be. “It’s good to hear you too.”

“I know it’s been a while,” she said softly, “but I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. How are things going?”

“They’re going fine,” you said quietly. You paused. You didn’t want to say anything bad or worry anyone, but also it was your mom. “I don’t know. It’s different here. I don’t have anything to do.” 

She just chuckled. “Cherish that. It’ll change soon and then you’ll miss this time.” You didn’t know what to say to that so you didn’t say anything. After a few moments of silence, she continued. “And how’s Ransom?”

You stifled a groan. You didn’t want to talk about him. Things had been… better since your panic attack. He came home at a decent hour regularly. You fucked most nights now. But he was still just this looming presence. You didn’t know what to do with him. “He’s fine,” you said with a shrug.

That was apparently the wrong answer, judging by the little hum she made. “I know it’s hard at the beginning. When I first married your father–” she cut herself off with a deep breath. “Remember, honey, keeping him happy is your one job now. It’ll get easier the longer you do it.”

A few tears finally broke free and fell down your cheeks. “I don’t– I don’t know him. I don’t know what makes him happy.”

“Then finding out will be a good use of your free time, won’t it?” You glanced at the book beside you, feeling shamed in spite of yourself. “I know it feels so hard, but men are shockingly easy. They just want to be taken care of. That’s all you have to do. Make him dinner. Keep his home warm. Give him heirs. Don’t argue. That’s all. You’re going to be such a good wife to him, sweetheart. I know you can do it.”

You shrunk down into the couch, wrapping your arms around your knees, making yourself as small as possible. You hated this. Hated that she didn’t want more for you. That she’d never tried to give you more. But you were tired, too, of being upset with her for not doing the impossible. What else was she supposed to have done? What else could she give you when she didn’t have anything herself? “Ok,” you whispered. It was all you could manage.

“Joseph says hello, of course,” she said, and you wanted to laugh. He’d done no such thing. “He’s so proud that you’ve made such a good match. He’ll be happy to hear it’s going well.”

“Mmm,” was all you were able to say. You hated this. You couldn’t do it anymore. “It’s so good to hear from you, mom. But uh, I have to– I have to go.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed. “Well, alright. I miss you so much, sweetheart. We’ll talk again soon. I love you.”

You could barely hold the tears back now. “I love you too,” you said, your voice thick. “Bye.” The moment you hung up the phone, the damn broke. You couldn’t stop it. You cried for your mom. You cried for yourself. You cried for the way everything had changed and there was no going back. You cried because this was a day when it felt like no one on earth was on your side. A shaking Lola forced her way into your lap and you held her until you were able to calm down.

Once you’d stopped crying, you looked around. You couldn’t sit still, your mother’s words ringing in your ears. Your eyes locked on the kitchen. That was something you could do. You glanced at the time. If Ransom came home at his new regular time, it would be tight, but you could do it if you made something simple. But not too simple. Something that showed effort. That you were trying. 

You got up and looked in the fridge. All those tidy little glass containers full of meals his housekeeper, Carol, made. You’d never felt like they were taunting you before, but now. Now you wanted to smash them. You could do this. You could make him like you. Show him what you were worth. You could make yourself a life better than your mother’s, maybe. Get him on your side.

There weren’t a ton of raw ingredients, but after combing through the entire contents of the fridge and pantry, you found what you’d need for a decent spaghetti. Carol was probably planning it for later in the week. Well, now she wouldn’t have to. You’d do it yourself.

You put some music on and got to work. Losing yourself in the prep. But you’d lost yourself too much maybe, because you were still chopping when Ransom walked in the door. 

Lola, of course, rushed to greet him. It still rankled. She didn’t realize that one wrong move would have him kicking her out. His words from that first dinner had never left your mind. But a few days ago, he’d started reaching down to pet her as she danced around him. You didn’t know what either of them were playing at.

He looked at you, now trying to hurry through the rest of your prep, his brow furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m making dinner,” you said, gesturing to all your work obviously. You looked at the time. You weren’t slow. He was early. Why the fuck was he early? He was ruining all your plans.

“Why?” he asked as he took off his coat, then shoes. “Carol’s put plenty of meals in the fridge.”

“Because I wanted to!” You said, your knife coming down on the onion under your hand too hard.

The knife hitting the cutting board caught his attention. He looked at what you were doing. “I don’t like onions.”

You threw down the knife more carelessly than you should have. It slid across the cutting board before coming to a stop at the edge of the counter. “Then why were they in the pantry?!”

“How should I know?!” he shouted back, matching your tone. But then he looked at you and stopped. “Have you been crying? What happened?”

You froze. Shit. You hadn’t even thought to check what you looked like. You swiped at your face and turned away. “It’s the onions. Obviously.”

“Your face– that looks like more than onions.” He now stood at the edge of the kitchen, only the island between you.

“I’m fine!” you snapped, then forced yourself to take a breath. “My mom called,” you conceded. “It’s fine.”

“Oh,” was all he said for a moment and then, “You and your parents are close then?”

You couldn’t explain why the question irritated you so much. Maybe it was the assumption of homesickness. Or referring to Joseph as your parent. Or just him being here earlier than he was supposed to be, asking you anything. You couldn’t keep the shortness out of your voice when you responded, “My mom. Sometimes.” 

You looked around at your progress, the mess you’d made, the onions he didn’t want. So much for keeping him happy. What a stupid idea. You felt done. Over everything. You began cleaning up all the food, scooping it into the garbage.

“What are you doing?”

“I changed my mind! You don’t want any of this anyway. Have one of Carol’s fucking dinners.”

“The fuck is going on with you?!” he shouted as he watched you clean up the kitchen.

“I changed my mind,” you repeated, throwing the cutting board into the sink. “I’m not hungry. I’m going upstairs.” You stomped over to the staircase.

“You’re not going to eat anything?” he called after you.

“No! I’m fine!” You shouted as you took the first few stairs.

“Yeah, you sure seem fucking fine,” he grumbled as he headed to the fridge. 

You stopped and glared at him. “Wake me if I’m asleep when you come up. I’m ovulating, so. Tonight’s important.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah,” he said, flatly. “I got your text.” That was news to you. He'd never responded to it. As you turned to continue up the stairs, you heard him add under his breath, “Although I’m not sure why you feel like you need to be awake for it.”

You stopped and turned around, coming back down a step. “What was that?!”

He turned to you, one of Carol’s glass containers in his hand, and sighed. “Nothing. I’ve had a long day.” You just stared at each other and then he added, “Aren’t you tired of it being such a chore?”

Something crumpled in you at that, but you didn’t want to stop and look at what it was. “Well,” you said. “The sooner I’m pregnant, the sooner it won’t be.” Then you turned and stomped the rest of the way upstairs. 

When he woke you later that night, he was already ready to go. You didn’t even take off your pajamas, just slid your shorts down to your calves. He was right. It was a chore.

It was a few days later when he texted you in the middle of the day. You were hiding in the bedroom while Carol cleaned downstairs. She was still mad that you’d wasted the spaghetti ingredients. You were reading in bed with Lola when your phone buzzed beside you.

Big family thing at Harlan’s on Saturday. We’ll be expected.

For some reason, it was the ‘we’ that caught you. It was the first time you’d realized you were a package deal now. If Ransom was invited somewhere, you would accompany him. And vice versa if you were ever invited anywhere. You couldn’t imagine it, with how small your world had gotten. 

The rest of his message caught up with you. His family. Linda had reached out multiple times since her awful visit. Every time you spoke to her, you got so small. You worried that prolonged exposure to her might cause you to completely disappear.

Aside from his parents, you’d barely interacted with the rest of his family at the wedding. It would be fine. You would be fine. You’d have to be. They were your family now too. You’d be seeing so much of them. For the rest of your life. You ignored how much your chest tightened at that thought.

Saturday came too soon.

Ransom paced around the bedroom while you both got ready. You’d never seen him like this before. He wasn’t dressed. He just kept walking in and out of his closet. And looking at you. You didn’t know if you were doing something wrong. He didn’t say anything, he just couldn’t keep still. The one time you’d asked if he was alright, he’d barked back at you that he was fine, so you hadn’t asked again. 

Watching him pace around was making you even more anxious than you already were. So you focused all you could on getting yourself ready. You’d asked Ransom earlier if his family dressed for dinner and he’d just grunted in response. But it felt like a no, so you wore one of your favorite day dresses. It was your favorite color. You hoped it would give you confidence. You did your hair. You put diamond studs in your ears, with a matching tennis bracelet on your wrist. Reasonable heels on your feet. A spritz of perfume on your pulse points. It was the best you could do without more information.

You stood in the middle of the bedroom once you were done. Ransom was still undressed, still moving. “Uh,” you ventured, hesitantly, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “Will we have enough time to get there?”

“Who gives a shit?” he growled, thundering back into his closet. A few moments later he came back out, wearing dress slacks and a cream cable-knit sweater. There were holes in it. You could see them clearly from the other side of the room. 

“Ransom,” you said softly, oddly feeling like you were speaking to a spooked animal, “don’t you think that sweater’s a little worn?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he rasped. “Let’s go.” Then he was out of the room and halfway down the stairs, with you scrambling to keep up behind him. 

The drive to Harlan’s country estate was mostly silent. You’d tried to turn on the radio at one point, but Ransom just turned it right back off. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly, his hands were bright red. You wondered if he was hurting himself. You didn’t know why he was so stressed. You were the one about to walk into the lion’s den, the one who had no idea what was waiting for you. It was his family. He’d be fine. You had no idea if you would be. You rested your hands in your lap, clutching them, and settled into the silence.

You knew that Harlan lived quite a ways out of town, but you still got to his home much too quickly. The large mansion loomed over you as Ransom parked his car amongst the others in the drive. He turned off the ignition and then just sat there, staring ahead. Just as you were about to call his name, he slapped the steering wheel harshly with one hand then growled “Let’s go!” to you and got out of the car. Once again, you scrambled after him, but this time, he slowed, slightly, to let you catch up. Once you had, he put a firm hand on the small of your back and ushered you up the path and into the house. You didn’t have time to react to that or try to figure out what on earth he was doing before you were greeted by a woman Ransom snidely called Franny. She responded with a very curt “Hugh” of her own then introduced herself to you as the housekeeper. She took your coats, and then Ransom’s hand was back on you, guiding you into a sitting room.

The entire family was already there, most with drinks in hand, and they all turned to watch you enter. You felt pinned by their gazes. “Well!” Ransom’s uncle Walt called out. “Look who finally decided to show. And just in time for the food, of course!” 

Ransom stiffened slightly beside you then smirked. “Well, thank god we’re in time for your fifth drink, Walt. Who’d want to miss that?”

Walt scowled as he got up from his seat, then lumbered across the room, knocking his shoulder into Ransom’s as he passed and jostling you in the process. You started to sway a little, and Ransom’s hand immediately came to your hip to try to steady you. Your gaze flitted down to it, but just as quickly it was gone.

Everyone else began to get up and make their way out of the room. Meg, at least, gave you a small smile and wave, but otherwise, you were mostly ignored. That was, at least, until there were only three people left, Ransom’s parents and Harlan. 

Harlan immediately hugged you. “It’s wonderful to see you, my dear. You look so lovely.” He took a step back to look at you both. “I trust you’re taking good care of each other. This is one of the most important times in your marriage. I hope you’re cherishing it.” 

“Sure Grandad,” Ransom snarked, “we’re loving being married to a complete stranger.”

“Ah, now, you’ll only remain strangers if you let that happen.”

You saw Ransom about to open his mouth to say something else, so you jumped in with a quiet, “Thank you, Harlan, we really appreciate that.”

Harlan smiled at you, big and genuine, and then clapped Ransom on the shoulder. “See, my boy,” he said. “I knew she was exactly what you needed!” 

Ransom’s jaw ticked but he didn’t say anything. You didn’t know how to respond either. Harlan’s kindness had a way of making you feel invisible. 

Linda stepped up to you all then. “Darling,” she said, her tone dripping friendliness in a way that made you brace for impact. “I see not even your positive influence can make my son be on time. How disappointing.” She added a little chuckle onto the end, but you took it as the reprimand it was meant to be. You pasted on your most benign smile, but as always, she made you feel about a foot tall. You had no idea how anyone thought you were supposed to make this man do anything. Like he cared about what you thought or wanted. Like you had any power at all. 

“Is that why you married me off, mother?” Ransom asked, matching her friendly tone, but when you looked up at him, his eyes were hard. “So there’d be someone to handle me?”

“Well,” she said, a placid smile on her face to match your own, “someone has to. Lord knows you haven’t listened to me in years.”

“And yet,” Ransom said, his tone dropping all friendliness, “you still got me here, didn’t you?” 

The look on his face startled you. You’d never seen him this angry. Without thinking, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. At your touch, his eyes snapped to yours. You weren’t sure exactly what he found there, you felt lost enough that you couldn’t imagine your expression was much help, but after staring at you for what felt like an age, he gave you the smallest nod and relaxed his posture. 

“We don’t want dinner to get cold,” Harlan called from the doorway.

Linda straightened, finally ending the standoff with her son. “Yes, of course,” she said. Then she looked at you, really looked, her eyes traveling up and down your body, taking in all of you and everything you were wearing. She quirked her eyebrow at you and let out a distinctly judgemental little hum. Then that friendly smile was back and she turned away from you. “Oh, Dad, there was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” she said as they both left the room.

You stared after her. You didn’t know what you’d done wrong. You’d looked at everyone when you’d arrived and confirmed that you weren’t under or overdressed. She herself was wearing a simple but smart pantsuit. Your clothes were nice, clean, and pressed. You were put together. What could her problem possibly be? You tried to breathe but you could still feel her looking at you and your chest was so tight.

You were brought back to the present by Richard wrapping you in a hug. His lips brushed your cheek as he said, “So nice to see you again, honey.” Then one of his hands on your back traveled lower until it grazed the top of your ass. You couldn’t help the way you jumped.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Dad?” Ransom shouted next to you. “I’m standing right here!”

Richard pulled away and you took a deep breath at being free of him. What the hell had just happened?

“What?” Richard rounded on his son. “I can’t greet my daughter-in-law? You’re so sensitive, Ransom. A little attention is flattering, isn’t it, honey?” 

They were both staring at you. You knew you needed to say something but all you could do in your shock was gape at them. 

Ransom wrapped one arm around your waist to pull you close to him. “You’re a fucking creep,” he growled.

Richard just scowled and made his way to the hall. “Disrepectful little shit,” he muttered as he left the room.

It wasn’t until his father was completely gone that Ransom dropped his arm from around you. He looked you right in the eye, his face so serious, as he asked, “Are you ok?” And there was something in his tone, fear maybe, that startled you just as much as Richard’s hand.

“I’m fine,” you nodded, your voice shaking only the slightest bit. When he still didn’t release you from his gaze, you brushed your fingers over his arm. “I’m alright.”

Finally, he nodded but didn’t really relax. “He’s–” he began, but cut himself off. “Just, watch out for him.”

“Ok,” you said, trying to sound strong. Reassuring. Ransom still just stood there. “Are– are you alright?” 

That seemed to bring him out of wherever he’d been. “What?” he asked, somewhat sharply. “Yeah, of course. Come on,” he said, turning to the doorway. “Let’s get this shitshow over with.”

Everyone else was already seated at the large dining room table when you came in. Ransom guided you over to the two empty chairs in the middle of one side and pulled yours out for you before seating himself. The catering staff moved around the table setting down plates and pouring wine for everyone. But when the server got to you, they moved past you without pouring anything. In case you were pregnant. Of course. That was fine. You just hoped no one else noticed.

“I’m sorry,” Ransom said from beside you and your stomach dropped. “Is there a reason my wife isn’t being served wine tonight?” 

“Ransom,” you whispered, still hoping everyone would just ignore it, but it was too late.

From the other side of the table, Walt piped up liked he’d just been waiting for an opportunity. “Maybe the staff got confused and didn’t realize she’s old enough to drink.” His eyes sparkled and he grinned, proud of himself, as it took every muscle in your body not to shrink down in your seat. 

“Great catch, Walt! You’re right. She is still much younger than me. Like I said before, and I’m sure I’ll have to say again, neither of us chose this. I would’ve thought that’d be a concept you’re familiar with, seeing as how you practically begged Harlan not to make you marry Donna.”

“Ransom!” you admonished quietly. Your eyes cut to the willowy blonde sitting next to Walt, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You had no doubt that he deserved this, but you had no idea if she did. 

Ransom’s eyes cut to you. “You’re right,” he said, before looking back at his aunt and uncle. “I should be nicer to Donna. I’m sure being married to Walt is punishment enough.”

“You little shit!” Walt responded. “I’ll have you know my wife is very happy. Which I’m sure is more than you can say for yours! What’s it been, a month? Two? And she already looks completely miserable.” 

You felt all eyes turn to you again and you weren’t sure you’d ever felt more self-conscious in your life. Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t say anything, so you picked up your fork and took a bite of the fish you’d just been served. It didn’t taste like anything.

From your left, Joanie spoke up. “Hey, those first few months of marriage are hard. But so rewarding. I know when Neal and I were first married–”

“Yes, Joanie,” Linda cut in, dryly. “My brother was a saint and we all miss him very much.” She turned back to her son. “There’s no need to get upset, Ransom. We just didn’t want to accidentally serve a pregnant woman alcohol. Better safe than sorry.” She picked up her own fork to begin eating. “Speaking of, if the two of you have an announcement to make, now’d be the perfect time.”

You couldn’t stop your grimace. Ransom stiffened next to you, then answered, “No. No announcement.”

“It’ll come,” Harlan finally joined in from his place at the head of the table. “There’s still plenty of time.”

From the other end of the table, a teenage boy you’d never even met before said, “Maybe not. Maybe she’s barren.” And you felt all the wind go out of you.

“Oh fuck off, you little incel shit!” Ransom shouted.

“She isn’t barren, Jacob,” Linda said, calmly. “We have all her medical records to confirm she’s perfectly fertile.”

You could’ve sworn you blacked out at the moment. You’d known, on some level, that if there was a clause in the contract, it’d come with some sort of confirmation that, at least on your side, it was even possible. But to know that they had your medical records and now were discussing them like you weren’t even here, like you just didn’t matter… You hoped the earth might open up and swallow you whole.

You felt a gentle hand land on your knee but it didn’t really register. Nothing did. You didn’t know where the conversation went from there. You couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in your ears. It was all you could do to keep breathing. But you knew they all kept sniping at each other. And you felt the anger radiating off of Ransom the entire time. 

The clinking of plates and scraping of chairs finally got you out of your stupor as the family got out of their chairs and staff started clearing the dishes. You looked over at Ransom, for help or support maybe, you didn’t really know. But he also looked like he’d gone somewhere else. He could barely meet your gaze.

You were still numb as people made their way back to the original sitting room. You just needed to make it through the rest of the evening. You could do that. Just as you had gotten to the other room, Harlan stopped Ransom with a hand on his shoulder. “I’d like a word in private with you, my boy.”

Ransom looked at you for a moment, then sighed and said softly, “I’ll be right back,” before following his grandfather deeper into the house.

And then you were alone. You were at a loss as to what to do with yourself, so you went back into the sitting room and settled on a vacant couch. Not everyone had migrated there.  There were only a few people in the room now. Jacob sat in the corner, hunched over his phone, but every once in a while he would look up, catch your eye, and smirk at you. It had you sliding further back in your seat. His mother was no help. Donna was slumped over in an armchair, still cradling half a glass of wine. Meg had already shrugged on her coat, giving a hurried wave as she moved through the room. And Richard–

Richard sat down next to you. You slid down the couch as subtly as you could. “You know,” he said, “I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you at the wedding.”

Alarm bells went off through your whole body. You saw Ransom’s face again, from earlier. How angry, yes, but more than that ashamed and unsurprised. How he’d looked at you. How he’d asked if you were ok. How it’d felt urgent. “It was a busy day,” you gritted out, trying to think of any way to get yourself out of this room.

“Ransom is a very lucky man,” he said, inching closer, his arm draped over the back of the couch, “to have such a beautiful bride.”

“Thank you,” you chuckled uncomfortably. “That’s very sweet.” You looked around helplessly. As he opened his mouth to say something else, you stood up. “I’m going to go get myself some water. Do you need anything?” you asked, but didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No? Ok, I’ll be right back.” And then you fled.

You hurried down the hall toward the kitchen but slowed when you heard voices. You picked out Joanie first, then Linda. You slowed to a stop right outside the kitchen door, trying to weigh just how much you wanted that water. Was it worth facing them? Were they any better than Richard?

“Okay,” Joanie said, “but what do you really think about her?” Your stomach dropped. You tried to reassure yourself that they could be talking about anything, anyone. You pressed closer to the door as quietly as you could.

“I think,” Linda said, then paused while you heard the clink of glassware, “that she will serve her purpose just fine.”

Joanie laughed. “I just have a hard time picturing Ransom with such a mouse.” You closed your eyes. You should go right now. Nothing they had to say would be of any help to you. But, despite your best interests, you were rooted to the spot.

“She definitely wasn’t chosen for her personality, but Ransom understands how good this will be for the whole family. How important it is”

“Oh, of course,” Joanie simpered, and you just hated both of these women so much at that moment, maybe more than you’d ever hated anyone. “I just feel so bad for him. He must be so bored.”

“Listen, I told him that he just needs to get her pregnant, and then he can do whatever he needs to do. Once he has an heir. As long as he’s discreet, of course.”  

Joanie cackled. “You didn’t! Oh, you’re so bad!”

“He might already be behind on that one, anyway,” Linda said, and you could practically hear her smirk. But you didn’t know what she could possibly be talking about. She didn’t know you and there was no one– unless. Oh god.

“Well.” Linda continued. “You know, she and her step-brother are very close, if you know what I mean.”

“Really?” Joanie asked, fucking eagerly.

“Mhmm,” Linda hummed. “Did you not see them at the wedding? They were practically hanging all over each other. He had to be kicked out of her dressing room.”

“No! Does Ransom know?”

“Well, I haven’t told him yet. You know how he gets. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“You know what they call that on the internet, don’t you?”

Linda sighed. “You know that I don’t, Joanie.”

“Stepcest!” Joanie said gleefully.

And that was it. That was all you could do. This fucking family. How– Why? You’d never done anything. You hadn’t even chosen to be here! And they still took so much joy in cutting you down. And if Linda managed to get to Ransom and tell him… Who knows what he’d do?

You moved as quietly as you could back down the hall, swiping at the tears beginning to gather in your eyes, hoping not to call any attention to yourself, when shouts suddenly erupted from the other side of the house. As soon as you recognized one of the raised voices as Ransom’s, you began to hurry in that direction. 

You hadn’t made it very far before he came barreling out in your direction. “Get your coat,” he growled. “We’re leaving.”

You didn’t argue, more than ready to get out of there yourself. You followed him to the closet, and then once you both had your coats, out the door. The crisp night air was bracing after feeling suffocated in that house for hours. Neither of you said anything as you got into Ransom’s car.

It wasn’t until you were fully off Harlan’s property that you felt brave enough to ask, “Is everything alright?”

He glanced at you before returning his eyes to the road and letting out a humorless chuckle. “Sure,” he said.

“What– What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Just his same old bullshit,” he scoffed.

“I–” you had no idea what to say. “Is it always like that?” You felt foolish as soon as you asked. Of course, it was. You could tell.

“Oh, no,” he said, and his tone was so cold, so detached, that you couldn’t help but stare. This felt like a brand new Ransom. “Sometimes it’s really bad.”

You didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea what to do with this sudden urge to comfort him, this man who had so much power over you, this man you couldn’t even say you liked most days. Especially after what you’d just been through. So you kept your hands in your lap and stared out the window.

After a few minutes of silence, he surprised you by being the one to break it. “So. I bet your family looks like the fucking Waltons compared to that.”

You thought of dinner with your own family. Joseph crowing loudly about his successes. Your mother cowering the moment any small thing went wrong. Steve getting into screaming matches with his father. You feeling invisible, on a good day. “No,” you said, hollowly. “Not really.” He turned his head sharply to look at you and you held his gaze for just a moment before he had to look back at the road. There was one large difference though. You’d always had Steve. As far as you could tell, Ransom didn’t have anyone.

That thought led you back to what you’d heard right before you’d left and your anxiety returned. “Steve and I–” you blurted out. “He’s my brother.”

Ransom’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, I am aware of that.”

You shook your head. “No, I just– I know we aren’t related biologically, but– Nothing’s ever happened between us. Not ever. He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck?!” he called out as he made a left turn more sharply than necessary. “Why would you–” he cut himself off. “Did someone say something to you?”

You ignored his question. “I just–” you said, “I just wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the drive.

When you got back to his house, Ransom went straight upstairs while you let Lola out one last time before bed. When you joined him in the bedroom once that was done, he was already in bed. “Listen,” he said softly, “I know you’re probably even more anxious about this whole thing after– I just, I’m really fucking tired. Is it ok if we don’t– If we just go to bed?”

You nodded, relief flooding through you. You were just as tired and didn’t think you could deal with all that after everything else that had happened that day. You quickly went through your nighttime routine in the bathroom. When you came back out once you’d finished, you found Ransom still awake, lying on his back staring at the ceiling. Lola was curled up at his side and he absently scratched her belly. You climbed into bed and turned the lamp off, turning onto your side. You felt him move behind you, scooting closer, not enough that you were touching at all, but you could feel his body heat. It was oddly soothing. You closed your eyes and hoped sleep would come fast, ready for this day to be over.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I don't know if this has already been asked, but what did you think of the Halloween event? Is it too early to ask? How did it compare with the other events?

Aaaaah, thank you for asking!! I was actually in the middle of writing my own "these are my thoughts" post even if no one specifically asked 😂 but I'm glad I can just reply to this ask with what I was cooking up~

***Warning: SPOILERS AHEAD!!*** ***Please also note: these are just my OWN thoughts and opinions! In sharing them, I do not mean to disparage those who think differently than me; I only mean to contribute to the discussion.***

I'll be quick and rip off the band-aid now: I liked this event about as much as I did Stage in Playful Land, maybe a little better than Playful Land if I think about it. If you know anything about my thoughts on the previous Halloween event, well... Let's just say it's a mixed bag. Neither of them comes close to toppling the peak that was Glorious Masquerade. (Fandom consensus seems to be quite positive though, with many liking Nightmare more than, if not the same as, GloMasq while Playful Land is still considered the weakest of the bunch.) Playful Land and Lost in the Book with Nightmare Before Christmas both suffer from general pacing issues. The former had an intriguing premise and setting but also many plot holes, a lack of active involvement from the SSR squad, and a resolution that was way too convenient. The latter, Nightmare, was very boring throughout because the majority of the event was centered on party preparations. I enjoyed everyone's bickering and the SSR squad's role in the event, but I wanted more than just that. It's basically like Terror is Trending, but if it had the Nightmare Before Christmas characters also featured. However, Nightmare did have a really interesting ending that played with amnesia and time paradox tropes. It's just that the road to get there wasn't anything special. I'll now get into all of this in detail, but it's quite long. Ready for a read? Then let's go ^^

My Extended Ramblings:

The initial aesthetic is strong. VERY strong, especially to me, a girlie that loves Nightmare Before Christmas and formal wear😭 BY GOD DOES EVERYONE LOOK SHARP AND DRESSED TO KILL IN THOSE NIGHTMARE SUITS... The devs totally popped off with the fits. I also loved how all the characters' coloring shifted once they entered the book; there's notable hatch marks on their shadows and even their skin and hair adopt bleaker saturations. These are SO much better outfits than the GloMaq and Playful Land ones, I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S JUST THE TRUTH. The other events tended to have chunky silhouettes and/or overly embellished elements to their designs that didn't sit quite right with me. NIGHTMARE SUITS HOWEVER ARE PERFECT AS THEY ARE...

... That being said, I think this event's premise was not great. I know everyone's mileage with this will vary greatly, but personally I don't like Lost in the Book events. I don't enjoy having Disney properties so blatantly shoved at my face; I'd prefer it to just be a distant part of the lore and history of the Twst world. The other issue with the event being so closely tied to its Disney film is that the story becomes so predictable. You can't really explore beyond the bonds of what the film has already set up, so you're trapped with whatever status quo Disney has mandated is "okay". (For example, in Nightmare, it has to be set BEFORE the events of the actual film in order to keep things "the same" when the film events actually play out.) Lost in the Books rely on individual nostalgia to some extent to get you invested in what it's trying to sell. This was particularly evident in this event, which featured several characters from the film and made Jack a very big fixture in the story. I for one was not sold on it despite my own fond feelings for Nightmare Before Christmas. I needed it to prove its own merits to me, and I'm not entirely sure if it was successful on that front.

I have made it no secret that I don't like most Twst events in general. Too often does it feel like pointless meandering and sightseeing without anything of real substance happening (though I do enjoy meeting new characters and learning new lore). That's also the case with Nightmare; the scale of the conflict isn't anything spectacular--but that's fine, it can still work as is, even if I don't personally find it interesting. I was still plenty entertained by all the bickering between the boys and between them and the residents of Halloween Town. The highlights for me definitely have to be Jade being a little shit to everyone, Jamil being tormented with bugs, Sebek's big speech in the climax, and Leona just beefing with EVERYONE in sight (particularly Malleus). The comedy and character interactions helped the middle part of the event not feel dull. I do feel like them having to switch groups around halfway through was short of a shoehorned way to prolong the middle of the event though 💦

One thing I noticed like, right away as I was playing this event was how disjointed it felt. And for the life of me, I could not pinpoint why… until I went back and compared the number of chapters per part. This is how the parts break down:

Part 1 - 13 chapters

Part 2 - 22 chapters

Part 3 - 20 chapters

Part 4 - 13 chapters

Part 5 - 16 chapters

For comparison, Glomasq:

Part 1 - 15 chapters

Part 2 - 18 chapters

Part 3 - 17 chapters

Part 4 - 19 chapters

Part 5 - 18 chapters

And Playful Land:

Part 1 - 16 chapters

Part 2 - 21 chapters

Part 3 - 11 chapters

Part 4 - 16 chapters

Part 5 - 18 chapters

Generally, Part 1 is dedicated to setting up the scenario and reason for travel. Parts 2 and 3 are meant for exploring the new location, with a big reveal dropping towards the end of 3 that kicks the conflict into high-gear. Part 4 is for combat, and then Part 5 is the continuation of the combat (with a focus on confronting the Big Bad), climax, and resolution. … Did you notice it? GloMasq (the only event of the three I consider overall excellent) is pretty evenly spaced out. Playful Land meanwhile has a weirdly short 11 chapters in Part 3 but had the extremely long 21 chapters in Part 2 beforehand. The discrepancy is made even worse in Nightmare, with Parts 1 and 4 being woefully short and Parts 2 and 3 being 20+ chapters each. It has the (likely unintended) effect of making the conflict resolution feel really rushed.

Alright, I think I've held off for long enough. Let's talk about the elephant in the room, our new addition to the Halloweenies, Mister Skully J. Graves himself. Right from the get-go, he had a mysterious air about him, especially since he's the first ever character to meet his twisted inspiration. Like I said in my first impressions post, I'm really into his design, but his personality shocked me. I expect some whimsy, but not a guy that flat-out kisses everyone he meets and calls total strangers "lovely dears". At the same time, he has the spirit of "sad wet cat" energy, and his expressions can whiplash between that and being absolutely deranged, which I found kinda charming. I get the feeling that he charmed a LOT of fans, as I saw many gushing about his otome-esque behavior and loving how he always calls attention to Yuu and Yuu's opinions. Unfortunately, Skully has what I lovingly dub "Ashengrotto Syndrome" due to my own experiences with Azul. That is to say, I started off liking both Azul and Skully, but after a certain point (book 3 for Azul, part 2 for Skully) they both took a nosedive right into my dislike zone. This is something I vaguely alluded to in my halfway through the event impressions post. I'm under the impression that this is a surprising opinion, so I'll try to do my best to explain why Skully lost his appeal to me. So the initial deterrent was his defensive and controlling behavior surrounding Halloween. He also gets so nasty and speaks down to others who don't see his perspective, which I don't find cute at all. I've mentioned before that I hate it when characters act elitist/gate-keepy and refuse to accept other opinions or change, and Skully fits that bill to a T. Sure, he might have his reasons, but I still find the result of his reasons distasteful. It's fine if he wants to respect the past or celebrate Halloween the way he's been taught, but it's another thing entirely to force those views on others. I've been on the receiving end of this kind of attitude and it was very unpleasant; I would not wish that upon anyone. (To make a long story short, I had invited a friend from outside my culture for a holiday meal so neither of us would be alone that year. That friend then complained that I was eating "non-traditional" food for the holiday.) Really rubbed me the wrong way when Skully started to tell others about HIS Halloween while being totally against everyone else's suggestions. Some of the others (like Jamil) even made an effort to try and include him anyway after his outbursts, and Skully was still unable to accept this lying down.

The hand-kissing thing was... charming at first, because I thought it was just his way of greeting people. But the more Skully did it, the less charming it seemed to me because of how everyone reacts to it. The others are CLEARLY uncomfortable with it, but he disrespects their boundaries by continuing to do so. To me, that seems very invasive and rude. Skully especially kisses Yuu a lot, and whether or not you like it will be up to individual preference--but personally, as someone who doesn't like strangers touching me intimately, I'm not into it.

During the Halloween planning, I noticed Skully speaking to Yuu directly quite often, which is different than the previous Halloween events. I started to feel a little uneasy about this, and for the longest time I could not tell you why. Then I realized. I don't think I can explain it any better than how I did in a previous post, so I'll copy and paste from there:

Another thing that really bothered me was that Skully keeps asking Yuu for their opinion. It SEEMS polite to consider them, but his intentions are way less selfless than they appear. Skully is often asking Yuu for their thoughts AFTER some other character has disagreed with him. So he is literally only consulting Yuu because he wants someone on HIS side. If you ever pick the dialogue option where you disagree with him, Skully insists there must be a misunderstanding and he will explain it to you no matter how long it takes. Don’t you see??? He doesn’t want to know what Yuu truly thinks; he wants validation in his own way of thinking. That’s NOT actually being considerate. The same shit happens when Skully tries to kiss Grim again. Grim dodges but Skully sneaks behind him and kisses him anyway because I guess that’s what gentlemen do according to him. Bro has demonstrated time and time again he does not value consent nor what others’ thoughts are on anything that differs from his own thoughts.

Skully lets his true colors show around the end of the third part. There, he feeds Jack Skellington a sleeping poison, turns Grim into a pumpkin, then takes Jack, Grim, AND Yuu as his hostages while claiming he'll reign over Halloween. Okay, that sounds great on paper, right? But there's so many practical problems with this.

Firstly, HOW does Skully plan to achieve this??? He's not that powerful since he's a first year; how does he intend to stand up to the NRC students? We even know at this point that he can't use his UM that much. Skully has shown he is impulsive and doesn't think ahead too, because he just assumes that Grim figured him out after walking in on the scene of the crime instead of lying/deceiving him about who poisoned Jack. He could have easily blamed someone else or claimed he walked in and found Jack like this already, but he didn't. It comes off as very near-sighted and not well planned out on Skully's part (which may very well be intentional; I don't think he was written to be a large threat.) I know this event's plot isn't meant to be as serious as prior iterations of Halloween events, but it sure doesn't help build tension for the finale.

We find out later in the event that Skully isn't mistreating his captives; he's keeping them in the bathtub Lock, Shock, and Barrel ride around in, feeding Grim and Yuu snacks, and asking them to please keep quiet. He also rambles on a lot about how he admires Yuu and how he wants to grant them a perfect Halloween, etc. That's... wholesome for a kidnapper, I guess??? But what I don't appreciate is (again) how he keeps shoving his ideas onto me and acting like he knows what's best for everyone. He’s not respecting my autonomy or right to think how I want. Skully is literally made of the most negative traits of Idia and Malleus while having none of the danger level of either one/j 😭 This makes me continue to not take him seriously and think that Skully could easily be beaten up--which does, in fact, end up being the case.

The ones who truly shine in this event are Sebek, Jamil, and Leona. The implementation of the SSR squad in Nightmare is much better than Playful Land. In Playful, it felt like Kalim, Ace, and Ortho hardly did anything unique to save the day; instead, it was a convenient phone call that rescued them from demise. The most I can say is Kalim was open-minded and tried to welcome Fellow and hear him out. Most of the other things could have been fulfilled by any other character, which didn't make the SSRs feel as integral as they were in GloMasq (with Azul's UM being needed, Malleus being the one Rollo has beef with, and Idia understanding the feeling of losing a younger brother and mourning). In Nightmare, each of the SSRs is similarly given a chance to shine with their special skills and UMs.

Beginning with Sebek! He leads a lot of the planning and serves as the one to draw up plans, which earns him praise from everyone, including his seniors. It's excellent set-up for him to later confront Skully about the idea of being recognized and acknowledged by one's idols (which I will discuss later in this post). Sebek is also the first to confront Skully on Spiral Hill after Skully has kidnapped Grim, Yuu, and Jack. In an act of desperation, Skully starts firing off magic and making really deranged expressions; Sebek unleashes his own UM, Living Bolt. This results in a strong flash of light in their location. The impact destroys Skully's shades and causes him to break down--he wore them as part of his ensemble, trying so hard to emulate his Halloween idol, Jack. Skully manages to pumpkin Sebek in the midst of his fit, and Sebek insists that Malleus--his own idol--will surely rescue him. NEXT UP IS L*ONA OTL WHO HAS MADE ME SO ILL THE ENTIRE MONTH OF OCTOBER, HURK 🤢 who heard the shouting. He rescues Sebek (he’s de-pumpkin’d) and Skully isn’t able to touch him because King’s Roar is just too OP 😭 (I’m sort of confused about how tf Leona’s UM works though?????? He seems to be sanding Skully’s MAGIC, which shouldn’t even be tangible???) I’m confused. dbsvsjsnskwk And he tells Skully to get back up do he can keep beating him back down????? BRUTAL. Leona’s been pretty useful up until this point too, taking charge in leading the group, strategizing, sussing Skully out, and thinking long and hard about what his true identity is. Bro’s really working those fat brain cells of his, huh…

I think this is the first of the Halloween events (that introduce new characters) where the new guy’s explicitly said to be in danger of OB. Not sure why that is, it’s just interesting to note???

SkULLy RUNS FOR IT and bumps into Lock, Shock, and Barrel, who proceed to subdue him. Surprise, turns out that Jamil had gotten to them first and Snake Whispered the trio. The kids call Jamil MASTER and -SAMA… My guy, you are so repressed 💀 (I recall it being said in book 4 that using his UM on multiple people can result in rapid blog accumulation so UHHHH I guess I’ll overlook this for now or assume 3 people isn’t an issue????) Earlier in the event, Jamil was like the only person to approach Skully to try and include him in the planning. Must be used to this being a big brother + always dealing with his dorm.

I’m not sure if it’s just me but??? It feels like they overlooked how some of the SSR trio’s UMs worked just to have it fit in the context of the climax they wrote. For Jamil’s, maybe you can excuse the fact that he’s controlling 3 kids by saying it’s easier for him to manipulate young minds. BUT THERE’S NO EXCUSING HOW LEONA CAN SAND MAGIC 😭 At least say he has strong defensive magic that Skully cannot break through????

It’s times like these that make me really question whether or not Yuu is actually important for helping these people learn to get along, because they seemed to have resolved the issue just fine without any kind of intervention from Yuu. Yeah, they bickered and picked on each other too, but they still fixed things on their own (albeit on their own, but it comes together in the end anyway) while Yuu is kidnapped and completely out of the picture.

Vcdnsksksksn The moment that follows is kinda funny and wholesome… Well, for the SSR trio, not for Skully. They all sort of rub it in Skully’s face that he lost and then praise each other but in a back-handed way??? Like they call each other nasty and shit at planning, etc. Leona says Jamil bullied Skully so much that the poor thing started crying, then Jamil accuses Leona of threatening Skully a ton… then they gang up on Sebek (wow, they’re both awful and I love that for them).

Seeing this camaraderie makes Skully throw ANOTHER fit because he’s jealous that Sebek gets all this praise and attention. Meanwhile, Skully is all alone, always alone. Though it’s not explicitly stated, it’s implied Skully is deeply insecure about being by himself, as his classmates at school don’t understand him and rejected him + his interests. He extols a lonely and desolate version of Halloween too, something that reflects his own soul... clinging to the only solace he has in this world, the one constant. A holiday that he cherishes so very much--to the point where his own UM is linked back to it. The big dilemma he goes through this event seems to be a mix of having his own views being questioned as well as having his impression of his Halloween idol challenged. This makes Sebek a good foil character for him, similar to how Kalim was for Fellow and Idia for Rollo in the previous Halloween events. Skully even calls out Sebek explicitly, saying that he has all of the things he has never had. He'll never be disappointed by his idol Malleus (sadhbaslidbas this is ironic, considering the events of book 7), he has senpai who praise him, he has Zero for a friend, etc. Life’s soooo unfair, Skully claims. And like??? I was so shocked to see Sebek acting mature about the whole thing??????? He refutes Skully's claims and tells him straight up that to believe in someone isn't to force your own views onto them so your idol stays how you pictures them in your head. It's a mistake to think of one's idol as perfect--not even Malleus is perfect. Even so, Sebek explains that agreeing with someone and loving/respecting them are very different things... so he will accept Malleus's flaws and love him nevertheless. Even if he disagrees with Malleus, even if they have to part ways, Sebek will accept it. That's really surprising coming from him, seeing as how Sebek acts absolutely SURE of Malleus's absolute goodness in the main story... Now I'm wondering if this event must take place after book 7??? Because that's when Sebek has his own views on Malleus totally shaken. Still, I'm so proud of Sebek for dropping this hard truth on Skully--it's definitely something Skully needed to hear and be reminded of to be pulled back to reality. He also just outright calls Skully put for all his cowardly moves, including going after those who cannot fight back 💀 Very Ace of him to do…

Speaking of Skully, what really put the final nail in his coffin and sent him to the Shadow Realm (my dislike tier lol) was all the tantrums he threw this event. I understand being upset and frustrated. Really, I do. I understand being envious of others, of feeling like you've got no one by your side. But is it REALLY necessary to react like that…? And so frequently… He just shouts “shut up” over and over again… OTL I don't know, it feels like I could sympathize with him more if they properly explained why it is Skully is so into Halloween (besides his hometown being the same) and why he holds the past in such high regard. The most we get is it's just something his hometown is into and when he left for school, none of his peers really accepted that. Is the implication that Skully retreated further into his hyperfixation to cope with his loneliness????? If so, I'm not sure if this was properly conveyed so now Skully is left acting like a big baby and overreacting to everyone trying to get him to calm down. The worst of it is when he claims he’s the one who TRULY loves Halloween and everyone else is fake. That sounds like something straight out of an angry elitist otaku’s vent post. Other characters acted similar to this when on the brink of OB (which Skully was) but never so childishly. This might just be a me thing though, I don't really care for overly emotional characters; they're usually not my cup of tea.

I'm not sure how I feel about everyone forgiving Skully and partying with him at the end for the Halloween celebration. On one hand, yeah, forgiving him makes sense because it's not like he was plotting anything crazily world shattering like Rollo or a participating in a large-scale crime ring like Fellow. Skully didn't really harm anyone (though he did try to shatter someone he pumpkin’d), at least not on a large scale like Rollo and Fellow did. On the other hand, I think it was a little bit too overdone with how sappy it was??? Like why did Jack say he was PROUD of Skully for being so passionate that he went to these extremes for Halloween? Why did Jack give Skully a HEAD PAT after the shenanigans he pulled?? I felt that saying he's forgiven and inviting him to join the festivities anyway would be sufficient. And again, I detest how Skully disregarded everyone’s consent and kissed them (Yuu and the SSR trio) as an apology even when they (SSR trio) already made it clear they didn’t want to be kissed. That just felt super gross to me, not funny or cute 😔

One of the big highlights of this event was, of course, the Twst cover of This is Halloween. Everything about it is just so... *chef's kiss* from the strong vocal performance to the perfect selection of characters to recreate each scene. It's a shame that we can't access the song outside of this event, but I know that I'll be playing it on an endless loop off of Youtube 😂

For all of the issues I had with the story up until this point, I'll be the first to say that the ending was genuinely sweet. Skully actually expresses gratitude towards everyone (a first, lmao) and calls us his friends, the best thing that has ever happened to him, etc. He wants to meet with everyone and celebrate Halloween with them again. BUT. I don't like that he singled out Yuu specifically as someone he really likes. I get the same feelings from him as I do with Malleus... Like, there's a weird over-familiarity and attachment he has with Yuu despite Yuu not doing or saying much to bond with him. His reaction seems unwarranted to me, with a lot of the appeal of his friendship coming from how much the player projects onto him. (And to be clear, I say this ONLY for myself, as Yuu is meant to be a character for self-inserting; in the case where I put myself in Yuu's shoes, I would be uncomfortable with how Skully is acting toward me.)

Now we get to the ending that seems to have emotionally broken the fandom.

I said earlier in this post that I don't like Lost in the Book events, and another reason for that is because there's amnesia involved at the end. I feel like an event isn't worth it if the memories get wiped anyway because then it's like the events never happened at all. However, Nightmare actually played with this trope and did something really cool with it. Even though those who leave the book have their memories erased, they're still left with some residual feelings that can propel people to act. In the Stitch event, this resulted in the boys wanted to vacation to the beach. In Nightmare, Skully--who was transported within the book from his original time HUNDREDS OF YEARS AGO--was so touched by the connections he made in the book that he essentially becomes a changed man. He graduates from NRC and travels the world to spread the joy of Halloween, thus being responsible for why it's such a big holiday in modern Twisted Wonderland, the era which our main cast is from.

No one remembers the book's events, but Skully is so thoroughly motivated by his lost memories... He somehow recreates the Nightmare Suit, BUT DROPS THE SHADES (a symbol of him trying to emulate Jack) BECAUSE HE HAS NOW BECOME HIS OWN PERSON. He shares a jubilant version of Halloween because that's the version he cherished celebrating with his idol and first real friends. History doesn't remember him, but his legacy is still going strong. LIKE THE GAO POSE... DID IT ORIGINATE FROM HIM???? ? ? ? ??????? ?? AND NOW I'M THINKING ABOUT ALL THE FUN THE GHOSTS AND STUDENTS HAD IN THE FIRST EVER HALLOWEEN EVENT... BECAUSE OF HIM SPREADING THE HOLIDAY AROUND

The NRC students don't remember him either, but they must somewhere in the deepest recesses of their hearts... CUZ THEY ALL STILL MAKE COMMENTS ABOUT HIM, LIKE LEONA SAYING BRO LOOKS LIKE A PATHETIC LITTLE MEOWMEOW (exaggeration). There's also the implication that Skully's spirit is still around, since the characters remark feeling a strange cooling sensation on the back of their hands. We never SEE him, but we sense that there's something there. In the end, they promise that they'll make the best Halloween ever in honor of his legacy and we get sequel bait.

Twst REALLY had to go and drop that ending on us and then peace out, huh 🤡 It's hard to put my feelings about this ending into words, but I think I would personally describe it as very bittersweet yet romantic. Not lovey-dovey romantic, but like... it portrays a hopeful future even though it's sad too. Like, it's tragic that the NRC students and Skully will never be able to celebrate together again. But isn't it cool that even though they were born in totally different eras, fate still allowed them to meet and completely change the course of history? And even if they forget about their encounter, that meeting still impacts them to this very day. It changed the world and their lives forever. Reaching for that thing you're missins and forgetting, without really know what it is... Something lingering there, without a form... There's something so dream-like about the concept, I have to commend the Twst devs for coming up with it. In that sense, I'm quite satisfied with the conclusion despite the bumps in the road I ran into on the way.

IN CONCLUSION. Yeah, I thought this event was another mixed bag. The pacing was bad and nothing that interesting happened since the story was mainly about preparing for Halloween. I'm not a fan of Skully. However, what I can say is that Nightmare had a good showcase of Sebek, Jamil, and Leona's strong suits and actually allowed them to resolve the crisis. The ending is also much stronger than Playful Land's and poses many interesting questions about Skully and his impact on history.

[buckysgrace]

Friendly Competition

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Billy has almost beat Steve Harrington at everything he was once the best at. There is just one more thing left to obtain.

His girl.

CW: Smut, Breeding kink if you squint (wrap before you tap lmao) some manipulation, spitting, crying, some slapping idk, Billy is kinda a dick, cheating.

You weren't quite sure how you ended up befriending Billy Hargrove, but you did. You supposed it was the genuine interest that he showed in you. You weren't attracted to him like other girls were, you were just happy that someone seemed to care about the little things you had to say.

Steve had warned you. He had been completely furious when he found out you were speaking to him in the first place. You couldn't particularly blame him. You knew that Steve was jealous of the other boy. Billy had come in a like a tornado and scooped up all of Steve's hard work to take over the school.

It started small, so small that you barely noticed Billy's presence around you at first. He was just suddenly there with his pearly white smile and charismatic attitude. You could see why girls flocked to him so easily, but you were loyal to Steve.

"Is this yours?" You looked over your shoulder as Billy leaned in close to you, the smell of mint and cigarettes lingering on his breath. You looked at the wooden pencil he was holding in his hand.

"Maybe?" You set your book down, looking across your desk to see that you had knocked your pencil off without meaning to. You reached over to grab it, your fingers knocking against his as he handed you the pencil, "Thank you. You're a lifesaver." You teased softly as you sat it back on your desk. His smile only grew at your words.

"I'm Billy," He held his hand out and you hesitantly took a hold of his rough palm. You watched as he clasped his free hand on top of your palm, sandwiching your hand between his, "I don't know if we've met before?"

You almost told him that you knew who he was. It was only his first week at school and everyone had already been talking about him. That included your boyfriend. You thought it was a bit silly, worrying about his status and everything else when he'd be graduating in a few months. He had changed for the better, but you were worried he was on a slippery slope back to his previous self with how threatened he acted.

"Probably not," You smiled kindly as he released your hand, "We'll see each other at basketball games. I'm a cheerleader." You responded as you made small talk. You weren't really sure what Steve had been so worried about. He seemed pleasant as his smile grew.

"Good, I hope to see you around." There wasn't much to the conversation in your opinion, but you had given Billy everything he needed to know about you, like you were an open book.

////////////

"Do you understand this?" You were taken aback as Billy shuffled his desk towards yours, his knees brushing against your bare skin as you looked over to the paper he was holding. You squinted your eyes for a moment, having a hard time reading his handwriting.

"Oh, yeah. You just haven’t been carrying your numbers. So do it like this instead,” He scooted closer to watch you write out the problem for him. You paid no attention to how his eyes watched you, already used to the way he held contact, “Like this.” You pushed the paper back towards him. He looked over it for a moment, biting on his pencil.

“That makes a bit more sense,” He admitted slowly. He looked up to face you, his blue eyes flickering in the sunlight as he smiled gently. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, “Thank you. Steve didn’t mention you were smart.” You bit your lip, smiling at the mention of your boyfriend.

“What did he mention about me?” You smiles, thinking Billy was going to offer you another compliment that Steve had gushed about you. Billy chuckled, flicking his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Not much, he said you’re good with your mouth,” You stared in horror, feeling your body warm. Steve had mentioned that to you before, but you didn’t like that he was telling other people. You gulped hard, “Just locker room talk.” Billy admitted as his knee brushed against yours again. You nodded, trying not to act bothered as you turned away from him. You missed the smirk on his face and the way he looked at you as if you were a snack.

////////////

"I don't like you being around him," Steve was irritated after he crawled off of you. You sat up a bit, pulling the blanket over your chest as you stared at him confused, "Hargrove. I don't like you hanging out with Hargrove." You frowned, staring at his back muscles as he moved.

"I wouldn't really classify it as hanging out. He gave me his jacket because I was cold." You retorted as you furrowed your eyebrows together. Steve still looked pissed as he sat to the side of the bed. You weren't used to fighting with him and didn't understand why you were fighting so much recently. You had known Steve since grade school and remained semi friends through your schooling experience. It wasn't until his recent split with Nancy that he had shown interest you. You still weren't convinced that he hadn't used you as a rebound, but you had been together so long since then that it didn't seem to bother you anymore.

"It's because he wants you," Steve snapped as he pushed a hand through his thick hair, "He's flirting with you to get to me." You sat up further, moving the blankets so you could try and look at him. You had seen the girls Billy went after and you certainly didn't lump yourself into that group.

"Steve, this is getting out of hand. I think you're getting too paranoid. Does anyone really care about status that much?" You weren't super popular, but being on Steve's arm did leave you lumped into that crowd. You really didn't care about any of that, however, and didn't know why Steve let it get to him so much. He huffed.

"Yes, literally everyone cares about that but you." He sounded bitter, and you felt your eyes soften as you watched the hardened lines grow on his face as he was in deep thought. You sighed.

"I really don't talk to him. I promise and I'm sorry for wearing his jacket. I didn't think it was a big deal at the time," You decided apologizing was better than keeping on about some dumb fight. You knew that this was just knew to him. He was used to being the center of attention and having lots of friends. Now, his friend group had basically become just you while the rest huddled towards Billy. Steve was used to being a leader and not a follower.

"Maybe you should go," Steve sighed and you watched as he stood to hand you your clothes. You stared at the pile in your lap as you looked up at him surprised, "I have a lot to think about." You opened your mouth and shut it right away. You had planned this weekend specifically because his parents were out of town and now, he was kicking you out?

"Seriously?" You huffed as you began to dress yourself, completely irritated in the childish way he was acting, "You need to get over yourself. No one is out to get you." You shimmied your pants up over your hips, watching how he looked like he wanted to argue back. You didn't let him get the chance to start again before you were stomping down the clean hallway and down the stairs and out into the cool night sky.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you began to trek your way back to your house. You cursed Steve for his extremely fancy house that was positioned out in the middle of nowhere as you began to lose yourself in your thoughts.

Anymore it felt like your relationship was too full, like Billy was driving a wedge between the two of you. All Steve could do was complain about something he had done that made him feel even more less than before.

You didn't think you were being disrespectful in your relationship. You still didn't classify Billy as a friend, but anymore he was a lot easier to talk to than Steve. He didn't complain about social status or how hard his life was at the moment. He asked about your interests and genuinely seemed to care about what you had to say. Then again, maybe you should give Steve the benefit of the doubt. Then you remembered how he was making you walk all the way home in the chill, dark and you felt yourself growing irritated all over again.

You felt yourself tense as a car slowed near you, driving with your pace. You tried to ignore it, hugging yourself tighter. If you ended up dying you would be haunting Steve for the rest of his miserable life,“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” You were shocked to hear Billy’s voice. He appeared like the devil himself, looking rather pleased as he realized who had been walking on their own, “Need a ride?” You forgot all about your conversation with Steve, nodding as you climbed your way into the car. You were too freaked out about being abducted now to care about your boyfriends complaints.

“Thanks,” You buckled up quickly, watching as he put his smoke out, “I can pay you back.” Billy shook his head, reaching forward to turn his music down.

“It’s no problem. Where do you live?” He questioned you softly. You felt like he wasn’t this nice with anyone else but figured that was Steve’s voice crawling inside you. You told him the address, sitting back as you relaxed a bit.

“You have a nice car,” You told him politely, trying to make conversation as he took his time driving you home, “It must’ve been expensive.”

“Not really,” Billy chuckled, “I fixed most of it up myself. What about you? Do you drive?” He kept turning the conversation towards you. You were pleasantly surprised. It felt like it had been a long time since anyone had been interested in you. What you liked, what you did. You happily rambled on, not paying attention to how Billy was taking the long way to get to your house.

////////

Then, the moments started to grow. He started to be there for you more often than Steve was. You began to rely on him more, misjudging his actions to be friendly.

"Can you pick me up tonight?" You asked Steve as you leaned against the locker in your cheerleading uniform. People were rushing by to get out of school, and you didn't blame them. You'd rather be heading home than staying to practice as well. Steve sighed, slamming his locker shut as he shoved his books into his backpack. Your smiled hardened, understanding he was going through a lot at the moment.

"I'll try. I have," He paused for a moment, "I have something going on tonight." You felt your eyebrows furrowing as you listened to him. He had never been so vague before.

"Something? Like what? You're going to miss basketball practice?" You rushed all of your questions out at once, trying to understand your boyfriend. He sighed, irritated.

"Does it matter? Something is going on and I can't make practice or pick you up. My life doesn't revolve around you, you know." He spit out angrily. You were floored. He never spoke to you in such a manner before. Whatever he was going through, he was blaming you for it. You found yourself frowning.

"Sorry I'm such a bother. I'll find my own way home." You muttered, pulling your backpack over your shoulder as you turned away before he could say anything else. You didn't need this, you didn't deserve this. You hadn't done anything wrong to him.

You were still mad through practice, missing most of your usual moves and beats. Chrissy had tried to talk to you, to ask you what was going on but you brushed her off too. Steve had left you in a rotten mood. It had been building for weeks and now it felt like it was becoming too much for you to handle.

"Don't tell me you're walking," The familiar blue Camaro appeared next to you, driving slowly as you made your way down the dirt path out of the school. You sighed, wanting to simmer in your anger on the long trek home, "Hey, what's wrong?" You stopped in your spot, feeling all of the emotions bubbling up inside of you as you turned to face him.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm walking home. I'm fine," You forced out, parading the best smile as you could manage. Billy looked at you unamused thorough his shades, "Seriously, I can walk home."

"Get in," He said simply as he stopped his car. He blew smoke out towards you as he waited for you to make up your mind. You sighed, thinking that it would serve Steve right to see you get in Billy's car, "I'll drive nice and slow, just for you." Billy teased. You scoffed, getting in the passenger seat and buckling up.

"You're such a gentleman," You teased with a roll of your eyes, "Take a left on this street." You told him, beginning to give him directions to your house. He flicked his eyes over towards you as you remembered he had already taken you to your house before.

"Something on your mind?" He questioned, lighting a cigarette as he glanced at you. You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, shrugging as you glanced towards him.

"There's just a lot going on, I guess." You admitted, finding an odd comfort as you sat in his blaring car. You glanced at him, watching the way his curls moved in the wind. It was nice, being somewhere and not having to listen to someone complain about him. You weren't sure if that was the best thing to admit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, looking at you uncertainly as he inhaled his cigarette. You watched the way the smoke tumbled from his pink lips. It felt nice having someone interested in what you were thinking about. Steve had been too wrapped up in his own problems recently to listen to you.

"Steve is just acting weird," You weren't sure why you blurted it out, maybe it felt like you had no one else to say it to. You could feel anger forming in the base of your stomach again, thinking about how quick Steve was to leave you to the side, "I don' t know, he's just frustrating sometimes." You leaned back in your seat, feeling bad for talking about your boyfriend in this manner. Billy glanced at you in keen interest as he pulled into your driveway.

"He wasn't at practice today," Billy told you what you already knew, "That's pretty weird." He took the last drag from his cigarette, watching you with keen interest. You swallowed a lump in your chest, wondering if he was thinking the same thing you were.

"Thanks for the ride," You replied with a soft smile, unbuckling your seatbelt, "I really appreciate it." You knew you would just spiral if you continued to think about what your boyfriend was too busy with that, he couldn't give you a drive home.

"What are you doing with him?" Your head snapped up, looking at your porch where Steve was resting on one of the top steps. You felt a bit sheepish, thinking about how you had just been talking about him.

"He gave me a ride, so I didn't have to walk in the dark." You replied dryly, putting on your backpack before taking slow steps towards Steve. He completely ignored your words.

"I thought I said I didn't want you hanging out around him," Steve looked at you betrayed, glaring towards the blue car that was still sitting in your driveway, "He's an asshole." You felt your shoulders stiffening in defense.

"I can make my own judgement. He gave me a ride, that's it," You were getting irritated, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were arguing while Billy was still watching, "Seriously. You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"He's not bothering you, is he?" You turned, watching Billy stand outside of his car. He was smoking again, watching you with concern. Steve scoffed, looking at you incredulously.

"Can you believe him? Asking if I'm bothering you," Steve pushed his hands through his hair, obviously ruffled as he took a step towards Billy. You followed him, not really wanting the two boys to get in a fight in front of your house. You'd have a hard time explaining that to your parents, "You can leave now." He hissed, glaring at Billy. You were too concerned with trying to keep your boyfriend calm that you missed the smirk on Billy's face.

"Just go," You were mad, giving Steve a serious look, "You're acting ridiculous. Just go home, Steve." You were exasperated but you still felt bad when he looked at you like you had smacked him.

"What about him?" He motioned towards Billy, his tone suddenly not sounding as angry as he looked at you desperately.

"He was trying to leave before you came out here acting all crazy," You protested, feeling the need to defend yourself. Steve's brown eyes softened, like he had just realized how brash he had been, "Seriously, just go home and rest. Or do something. I have homework to do." You felt a bit guilty, but you meant your words. You were too exhausted to listen to him complain about Billy tonight. You knew he would be mad at you, but you didn't care.

"Have a good night." Billy's voice carried through the thick tension, a hint of amusement in his tone as you walked up the stairs to your home. You thought about turning to wave to him but decided against it, not wanting Steve to have any more fuel to accuse you of anything.

////////////

"We can study up here," You walked up the staircasing, showing Billy up to your room. You had been partnered together for a presentation and you were hoping that you would get it done with quickly. You didn't need Steve showing up to your house, pouting because you were around Billy again, "It's a bit messy." You quickly kicked some things out of the way, trying to clear up the entrance way to your cluttered bedroom before reaching for your other homework you'd been working on.

After speaking with your boyfriends again you had agreed to stay away from Billy. You knew there had been nothing malicious about your behavior but decided that it was better to agree to his terms than continue to fight. It had worked for a while, until you realized he was talking to Nancy again. It fueled your anger, realizing that you would never been quite enough for him.

"Steve isn't here?" Billy questioned, his eyes lingering at different areas in your room. He seemed to be thinking the same thing that you were. You quickly removed your books from your bed, clearing up an area as you turned to look at him.

"No," You spoke, trying to hide your annoyance as you placed your schoolbooks on your dresser, "He had something to do with Nancy." You were sure irritation was evident as Billy turned to you curiously.

"I thought him, and Wheeler broke up?" Your hands lingered against the nightstand near your bed, staring down at the picture of you and Steve wrapped up in each other's arms. It hurt, thinking about what he was probably doing right now.

"I thought so too." You admitted, trying to ignore the pain in your heart and the lump that was forming in the back of your throat. It would be silly to cry in front of someone like Billy. You were sure he'd have no idea what to do.

"He doesn't deserve such a pretty thing like you," He stepped forward, staring down at you with intense blue eyes. Your heart sudden beat a different rhythm as your breath hitched in your chest. His hands gripped at your soft waist, rubbing patterns into your smooth skin with his rough hands.

"What are you doing?" Your breath came up rough as you looked up at the blonde boy, noticing the way his eyes were observing you. He looked like he wanted to eat you.

"When was the last time Steve touched you like this?" Billy asked as he seemed to tower over you. Your heart was pattering in your chest as you looked up at him unsure, his large hands squeezing your hips softly.

"A while," You admitted softly. Billy's fingers slowly pushed the hem of your shirt up. You felt as if your waist burst into flames from the sensation of him against you. You were melting against him, slowly moving with him as he backed you towards your bed, "He's been distracted." You tried to defend the brown eyed boy, remembering that he was your boyfriend.

"Such a shame, if I had you there would be no one else I'd think of," Billy's blue eyes held onto your gaze intensely. You were thankful he was holding onto you, fearing that if he let go, you'd fall onto your carpeted floor and melt away, "You're fucking stunning." He spoke close to your face. You hesitated in his hands, not moving your face forward as you watched him.

"I can't." You mumbled, unsure of your own words as your body seemed to be urging to press up against him. You hadn't felt this much tension or want in such a long time. It was hard to feel guilty with other sensations taking over your body. Billy cocked a grin, raising his eyebrow as his nose brushed against yours.

"You can't have fun, c'mon," He licked his white teeth, glancing away for a moment before looking at you again, "I just want you to feel good. It doesn't have to mean anything. He won't have to know." The words were balancing in your mind as you considered him.

"I don't want Steve to know. I don't want to hurt him" You were feeling your resolve break down as Billy's touch sent flames at your skin. You exhaled softly, moving your arms over your head as he pulled your shirt up. You stared into his blue eyes, watching as his eyes raked over your cleavage.

"He'd never know. You said it yourself; he's been distracted. You deserve to be treated like a Queen. Let me show you," He sounded convincing as he moved his hands behind your waist. He traveled his warm hands up your back softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Your heart was beating even faster as he slowly fiddled with your bra, pulling the straps apart before letting it slide down your shoulders. You quickly covered your boobs as he pulled the material off, a nervous smile pressing against your face, "Don't be nervous. You're fucking beautiful." Maybe it was because it had been so long since Steve had said those words to you, maybe you were just that deprived to search for comfort in anyone else. You listened to Billy, letting your hands fall to your sides as he drank you in, his blue eyes darkening.

He kept eye contact with you as he slowly lowered himself onto his knees of your bedroom floor. Your whole body was warming as you watched his movements slowly. There was something so odd in seeing someone like Billy on his knees for you. He unbuttoned your jeans slowly, gripping a hold of your panties along with your jeans as he pulled them down your thighs. You resisted the urge to cover your face in embarrassment as his features lit up. He smirked up at you, gently pressing his palm against your hip to knock you down onto your mattress. A squeal left your mouth, your chest filling with giddiness as you sat up on your elbows to look at him. He dragged you forward by your thighs, gleaming up at you.

"I bet your cunt tastes so sweet," He whispered as he rested your legs over his shoulders. He looked like sin as he dipped between your legs, flicking his tongue out against your wet folds. A moan left your mouth as you watched his eyes close for a moment as he savored the taste of you on his tongue, "Fuck, Harrington gave up this? Such a shame." Billy tsked, his fingers squeezing around your thighs as his mouth devoured your wet cunt. His tongue flicked and swirled between your folds before he played with your clit.

Your elbows slid out from under you as you rested against your mattress, your mouth parting in awe as you focused on the sensation of his mouth against you. You mewled out, reaching down to tangle his blonde locks in your nimble fingers. The guilt was fading away as the pleasure took over.

"Oh god," You whined out, feeling your back arching at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your wet hole. You whimpered softly, already feeling stretched around him as he curled his fingers into your heat. He was lapping his tongue lazily against your throbbing clit as your hands tightened in his hair. You whimpered softly, "Feels so good." You whined out, moving your hips against his hot tongue.

He chuckled softly, pulling his mouth away from your wet heat as he curled his fingers up against your walls and searched for the bundle of nerves inside of you. You were grinding down against his hand rapidly, ultimately showing him just how needy you actually were.

"Pretty Boy wasn't fucking you nearly good enough," Billy spit out, his lips trailing against your thighs as he moved his thrusted his fingers inside of you faster. You could feel the cool metal of his rings hitting against your entrance each time he pushed into you deeper, "I'll change that, baby. Gonna fuck you so nice, gonna fill that tight cunt with my cock." He promised, his teeth grazing against your thighs as he spoke. You whimpered, far into pleasure to care about how wrong his words are. You felt your toes curling as his thick digits hit that sweet spot inside of you.

"Billy!" You cried out, rolling your hips relentlessly as you chased that feeling again. You where whining, writhing on the bed as he dipped between your legs again and wrapped his pink lips around your clit. It was like he was rising you into the sky, bringing you closer and closer towards heaven.

He hummed again, sucking your clit hard as his fingers brought you to your high. You moaned, your fingers clinging to his hair as you shook around him. You were breathing hard as he slowly lowered you back to the Earth.

You were shaking still as he pulled away from you. You were in a daze as you stared up at the ceiling. It had been so long since you had had a proper orgasm. You felt your toes curl softly as he slid you back up towards your bed. You squealed softly, still trying to catch your breath.

Billy stood at the edge of the bed, unbuttoning the few buttons of his shirt before he pulled it off. You stared at his tanned skin, the toned muscles. Maybe it was your guilt, but you couldn't help but compare how he looked to Steve. You tried to shake the feelings away as he unlooped his belt and slowly pulled his jeans down his thick thighs.

Your felt your jaw dropped when he revealed his hard cock. It bobbed against his stomach, standing straight as he crawled onto your mattress to face you. You didn't look at his face, too preoccupied with staring at the thick, angry dick between his legs.

"You ready?" He didn't reach for a condom, instead he swirled the head of his cock along your sensitive clit. You jumped, hissing softly as you felt your legs shaking still from your previous orgasm. You nodded stiffly, wanting nothing more than to feel him stretching you out. He pushed his tip into you slowly, gauging your reaction.

It was like you were being split in half. Steve was long, but Billy seemed to be twice as thick. He was groaning softly, spreading your legs wider and up towards your chest as he bottomed out inside of you. You hissed softly, your walls burning as your cunt swallowed his fat cock. He looked down between your legs, spitting again as he coated your pussy with his saliva.

"Holy fuck," Billy cursed as he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration. His mouth opened in bliss as he stared down at you, "You've been holding out on me." He grunted, rocking his hips forward slowly. You blubbered at the feeling of pain and pleasure swirling inside of you.

"So big," You breathed out, unsure of how else to tell him you weren't used to his size yet. He smirked proudly, cupping your chin softly as his thumb played with your bottom lip, "S'lot." You admitted, fluttering your eyelashes as you looked up at the blonde boy again.

"Poor little baby isn't used to my big cock?" Billy teased playfully, moving his hips slowly as you adjusted around him. You whined, feeling his spit slip towards your throbbing clit. You shook your head pathetically, inhaling as you felt him slide deeper inside of him, "Don't worry, baby. When I'm done with you, you won't forget my cock." He promised, drawing his hips back softly before pushing into you harder. You squealed softly, reaching towards your pillows as the pleasure overtook the pain. You'd never been stretched in such a way before.

"Feels," You breathed out harshly as he bent lower to face you, his blue eyes watching you intensely as he built up a slow rhythm. Your pussy was growing more wet, your slick coating his hard length, "Feels so good." You whined softly, feeling your eyes close in awe. They snapped open hard when his hand connected against your cheek, smacking you softly to draw your attention back towards him.

"Hey, hey," He gripped your chin softly before he squeezed your cheeks together hard, pouting your lips out towards him, "I want you to watch me fucking this little pussy, okay? You're only to think of me right now." He demanded, looking at you seriously as you nodded your head. You were too full of his cock, in too much bliss to wonder about who else you'd be thinking of at this moment.

"Okay," You whined as he pushed his cock into you harder, leaning on your legs more as they began to burn from pleasure, "Mhm, god. Fuck me so good, Billy." You pleaded. He dipped his head low, pressing his rough lips against yours in a fleeting kiss. You felt momentarily frozen, thinking about how he tasted so much different than Steve. Steve was always sweet, Billy tasted of mint and cigarettes.

He didn't let you draw on your thoughts about Steve too long before he was slamming into you hard, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves as you cried out. You desperately wished to grind up against him, to push him in deeper but there was no moving under his tight grip.

"Such a greedy little whore," He spit out, watching the way you were desperately trying to move your hips, "Already made you cum on my fingers and tongue and you're grinding up against me like a bitch in heat. Was that not enough?" You shook your head, your moans cascading off of the walls.

"More," You begged, wanting to feel as much as him as possible, "Need more." You felt like crying when he stopped moving his hips. You could feel his hard length pulsing inside of you, but you still feared that you had said the wrong thing.

"Okay, I'll give you more of my cock, baby," He let go of your legs slowly as he pulled out of your tight hole. You whined, watching him move as he pulled his hard cock from your wet heat. You felt a look of betrayal forming on your face, "S'okay. I'm gonna give you my cock, baby. Just relax." You felt tense as he rolled you onto your hands and knees. He positioned you a bit, so you were facing the doorway. It felt odd, but you ignored it at the feeling of cool leather pressing against your neck. Your gasp was cut off by him wrapping his belt tightly around your neck. You struggled to breath for a moment. You felt like this was far out of your comfort zone.

"I don't know," You started to speak as you felt your pulse quickening against your wrists. Billy chuckled, sliding his hard cock between your wet folds before he tapped it against your hole playfully. You were arching back suddenly, forgetting your discomfort, "Fuck me." You changed your subject entirely, looking back over your shoulder to watch him. He grinned down at you, gripping onto the belt around your neck like it was a collar.

"You're so damn needy for my cock. Pretty Boy was just neglecting this pretty little cunt," Billy tsked as he slowly slid his tip inside of you. You moaned, trying to push back to urge him in. He gripped your backside, holding you still as he watched you, "Patience, baby. You'll get my cock soon enough. I promise." He slid in slowly, teasing you as every time he hit a deeper spot inside of you, he'd pull out again. You gripped your hands in fists around the sheets, desperately trying to hold yourself together. You wanted his cock so badly. You'd never wanted something so badly before.

"Please," You whined out, sounding breathless as he caressed your backside. You were willing to get on the ground and beg for him to fuck you. Your body was trembling with want. He bit his lip, trying to control his smirk as he slowly filled you. You mewled, feeling his balls pressing up against you from how deeply he filled you, "Yes, just like that." You sighed out in relief. Billy yanked on the belt, earning an odd sound from you as his other hand roughly smacked your backside a few times. You yelped; your moan cut off from his grip on the belt.

"S'okay baby, s'alright," Billy pulled out until only the head of his cock remained, then swiftly slammed into you. You rocked forward, your eyes hitting the back of your head as the pleasure gripped you. You felt drool forming in the corner of your mouth and you quickly tried to lick it away, "Gonna fuck you dumb, make you my own little cock slut." Billy promised, grinding his hips into you deeply before he built a rough pace. Every thrust left you slamming forward, nearing the edge of the bed as he held onto you tightly. You were a moaning mess, unable to focus on how wrong all of this was with his dick hitting your bundle of nerves with each wild thrust.

You wanted to cry out again, to tell him how good he felt inside of you, but your tongue was unable to form any words. The sounds of your skin meeting filled the room in a filthy way. Billy was grunting on top of you, smacking your backside as he dragged you along his cock. He gripped the belt, pulling you off of your elbows and against his sweaty chest as he beat his cock into your sensitive pussy. You glanced at him, whimpering as you tried to hold yourself up.

"Do you like my cock?" He asked roughly, his free hand snaking around your waist as he pressed down on the bulge forming on your abdomen from his thrusts. You whined at the odd sensation as you nodded your head quickly. He moved his hand away, smacking you lightly across your cheek, "Use your big girl words." He commanded. Your cheek lightly burned but you liked it. It was odd that the pain he was causing you made you feel so good.

"Yes," You spit out, feeling tears of pleasure beginning to form on your cheeks, "Love it so much." You nodded your head, looking at him sincerely. He smirked, licking at your swollen lips messily before he was shoving you back down with the belt. You gagged when he pulled too hard, trying to regain your breathing as he shoved your face into the mattress.

"Such a good cock whore," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. He was clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. You didn't think it would ever feel so good to be called such terrible names, "Gonna make you my own little slut. Gonna fuck you whenever I want. You want that don't you?" He degraded as he smacked your sensitive skin again. You nodded, before quickly remembering to speak when you answered him.

"Yes," You wailed when he hit your bottom again. Your skin was beginning to feel raw and sore, "Wanna be your little slut." You promised him, nodding your head urgently to let him know that you meant it. He grunted, his fingers digging into his waist as he rolled his hips inside of you. The sensation caused your toes to curl and a loud moan to leave your lips. You could feel your stomach muscles beginning to curl, signaling that you were near.

"You wanna cum on my cock?" Billy leaned over your body, whispering huskily in your ear as his movements became more rapid. You were crying around his cock, begging him for more as your cunt gripped around his hard dick like a second skin. You were whimpering incoherently as you tried to form words.

"Yes," You finally breathed out as a line of spit let your parted lips, "So bad, please." You were begging, looking towards the blue-eyed boy. He licked his bottom lip, drawing his attention towards the doorway with a snort. You didn't care what had gathered his attention. You just never wanted him to stop moving.

"Show him how good you are baby, show him how good my cock feels," Billy snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting against your bundle of nerves as he held on tightly to the belt around your neck. Your mind was fuzzy, too focused on the feeling of his cock inside you to fully understand his words. He used his other hand to smack your cheek, gripping your chin to face you towards the doorway, "Show him what he's been missing."

Your eyes met brown ones, but you were unable to do much about the boy in the doorway as you clenched around Billy's fat cock and came around him. You were shrill as you moaned, your eyes clenching shut tightly as your body trembled around Billy's tight grip. He grunted hard above you, drawing you back with the belt so you were forced to look at his flushed expression.

"Gonna cum inside your little cunt, fill you with my cum. You want that? You want me to breed you? Fill you with my seed?" He hissed out, his hips snapping against you harshly as he dragged you along his cock. You nodded in shame and pleasure, a bittersweet mixture as you were all too aware with your boyfriends' eyes watching your every movement.

You cried out another time, your toes curling again as you felt his warm cum fill the deepest parts of you. Your feet kicked off the mattress softly as he held onto the belt tighter, cutting off your airflow momentarily. He was grunting like a beast, using his other hand to claw at your sides as he came down from his high. you whimpered when he let go harshly, your head rocking forward towards your bed.

You were a mess. Hair tangled from being pulled, lips red and swollen with drool pooling down to your chest. Your skin was darker where Billy had smacked you, your pussy full of the mixture of the two of you. You were ashamed, staring up at the brown eyed boy as his eyes looked at you with horror. You tried to look away, to avert your eyes so you wouldn't have to feel your guilt.

Billy yanked the belt around your neck like it was a collar and you were a dog on a leash. He forced you to look at Steve's horrified expression as Billy's cheek pressed against yours. You felt his mouth curl into a smirk as he looked at Steve.

"Sorry man, she's a bit busy. I can't believe you weren't fucking this," Billy growled, turning your head to kiss you harshly. You whimpered in protest, feeling a pang in your chest, "She's so fucking good, man. I hope you don't mind. I just couldn't help myself." You slowly raised your eyes to look at Steve again, feeling guilty and ashamed. It was like he was stuck in his spot, no words coming forward as all he could do was stare at the two of you.

You were quiet, staring down at Steve's sneakers as Billy moved behind you. You were too aware of how you were still clamped down around his length, your pussy begging for him not to leave as he unstrapped the belt around your neck. You touched your raw skin softly, looking over your shoulder at the golden boy's proud face. He pulled out slowly, hissing from how hard you were clenched around him. You felt shame fueling every part of your body at the sound of your wet heat squelching around him, his laughter filled the tense room.

"Did you hear that?" Billy bit his lip, looking between your legs one last time before he smacked your ass hard. The sound echoed and you stiffeled a moan, feeling your legs give out from under you as you fell forward on your stomach. The sticky sensation of your mixture between your legs coated your thighs. Billy dressed himself quickly, looking towards Steve like he was waiting for him to say something or to make a move. Steve never moved from his spot in the doorway, too busy staring at you with disbelief. You were doing everything you could not to meet his eye contact. The nerves filling your body as the lust left with Billy, "I hope there's no hard feelings. I let her nice and wet for you, King Steve." Billy smacked Steve's shoulder, barely drawing a reaction from him. You watched Billy's smirk grow on his face as he pushed passed the brunette boy.

You slowly lifted your eyes to meet his gaze again, still fighting to regain your breath. Steve just stared, looking like he didn't quite recognize you at the moment. He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he watched you.

"I was right," Steve breathed out slowly as he finally broke the tension, "I told you he was using you to get to me."

[kpop---scenarios]

Blind Spot (1)

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader x Lee Know

Warning: Smut, Threesome - ish [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

Word Count: 2.3k

Everything Taglist: @ivydoesit23 @wife2straykids @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog

@silly250 @gabriellamarie @tsunderelino @1810cl

A/N: Part one of 3! Enjoy!

“Never have I ever… cheated in a relationship.” You say, watching your boyfriend, and best friend to see if they're going to drink. Neither of them do, honestly you're surprised that Chae doesn't drink, but not surprised your boyfriend, Jeongin doesn't.

“Never have I ever… been with two guys at the same time.” Chae giggles, both of you watching Jeongin.

“Oh come on you guys, as if.” He laughs. “Okay my turn.. mhmm..” he pauses. “Never have I ever… had a threesome with two girls.” Jeongin half whispers, his eyes darting between you and Chae. “That's a conversation for a later date.” You both laugh, you in particular because he was trying to be so nonchalant about it, but after 2 years, you knew Jeongin pretty well to know what he was hinting at, but you don't say anything about it, instead moving on to your turn, switching the subject. You knew he would bring it up again, it was just a matter of time.

*

"Hey, baby.." Your boyfriend murmurs, walking into the living room, glancing around the room before his eyes land on you. It had been a few days since Chae had been over drinking with the two of you.

"What's up love?" You say, smiling at Jeongin. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, taking a breath as he tries to come up with the words he wanted to utter.

"I know you said we'd talk about it at a later date..” he pauses. You had a feeling you knew where this conversation was going. “But it's been a few days, and I was wondering if you thought about…the.. um, threesome?" He says, forcing a laugh, while rubbing the back of his neck.

There it was. It wasn't that you were really opposed to having a threesome, honestly it seemed kind of exciting, but it was the fact that he was a little more persistent than you'd like.

"Who would we even bring in?" You sigh, closing your book. That was one thing that confused you about the entire thing.

"Oh, I don't know.. I mean, we could find someone random... it could maybe be Chae… it doesn't matter." He trails off.

"You know, this is the third time that you've mentioned Chae. Are you trying to tell me something?” You laugh, making him laugh.

“We could just find a girl at the bar.” He smiles.

“Let me think about it.. it might be better to have someone that we both know and are comfortable with.” You say. “I just worry about our friendship… I don't want this to ruin anything.”

“Babe, you guys are good friends. This won't ruin things at all. I love you, and who knows, maybe it'll make the two of you even closer.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.

You bite your lip, looking at Jeongin, trying to stop your smile, but you can't, it turns into a full-fledged grin. “I'm meeting her later tonight. I'll talk to her.”

Jeongin grins like a kid on Christmas, clapping his hands together, turning around, practically skipping off to another room. Part of you started to wonder why he was so giddy, yes you knew that she was gorgeous, sexy, and almost everyone's ideal type, so yes he'd probably be excited but it made you feel a little sad that he was so excited about it.

Later that evening, you showed up to the bar, finding Chae sitting in your usual spot, with your usual drink sitting across from her waiting for you.

“Hey you.” She smiles, scooting in closer to the table as you sit down across from her.

“Hey.” You grin, taking a sip of your drink. “Thank you for this, I really needed it.” You laugh. “So how are things? I feel like I never get to see you anymore. Even though I saw you last week.” You laugh.

“Things are… things, you know.” She laughs. “I broke up with that guy I met at the gym.” She sighs.

“Wait, was that the one who claimed to be tatted up but had two small tattoos? Or was it the one who did the part-time work at the store where he stood around shirtless?” You laugh.

“Oh my god, when you put it like that, it sounds so fucking bad.” She groans, dropping her head into her hands. “It's not my fault!” She yells, jolting her head back up, to defend her choices. “We can't all find a Mr. Perfect, like Jeongin who has good looks, a good job, smart, funny, nice and did I mention good looking?” She says, taking a sip of her drink.

This seemed like your chance to talk to her about your and Jeongin's plan.

“So you think he's good looking?” You giggle, watching her facial expression.

“I do have eyes, you know.”

“Well I'm glad you think so, cause I actually have something to ask you…” You pause.

“I'm intrigued…” She smiles. “Continue.”

“He and I have been… um discussing… a threesome.”

“Yes.” She almost yells.

“You didn't even let me finish.” You half chuckle. You noticed you were twiddling your fingers underneath the table, while your leg shook with what you could only assume was anxiety.

“Oh fuck.” She laughs. “You were going to ask me right? I didn't just agree to it and you were going to ask if it was a good idea or not.”

“I was going to ask you, yes.” You say, no expression on your face. “I'm glad you both are so eager about this.”

“You should be too… it's going to be so hot.” She gushes. “When were you thinking?”

“Saturday?” You suggest.

“Two days? I can wait that long.” She giggles.

A few hours later, you walk into your shared apartment, seeing Jeongin jolt off the couch at the sight of you, rushing towards you with puppy dog eyes like he was begging you for information.

“She agreed.” You say, setting your bag down, waiting to gauge his reaction.

“Yes! I was hoping she would.” He smiles, throwing his hands up in the air in excitement. “When's it for?”

“Saturday.” You say. “2 days.”

“Thanks babe, I can't wait.” He grins, heading to the bathroom. Part of you felt a little uneasy about the whole thing but you chalked it up to a little anxiety about trying something new. If Jeongin was excited, and Chae was excited, then why shouldn't you be as well?

“She'll be here soon.” You tell Jeongin, glancing down at your phone, looking at the text message she had sent. You wander to the kitchen, pouring yourself a shot, and then another one, and one more for good measure. Your stomach felt like a ball of knots as you waited for her, you felt like you couldn't sit still, constantly moving until the knock at the door broke you out of your nerves. Jeongin walks over to the door, opening it for Chae, letting her into your apartment.

“I need a fucking drink.” She grins, holding up a bottle. “Shots for everyone.” She finishes, heading to the kitchen. She grabs three shot glasses, pouring the liquor into each glass before passing you and Jeongin each a glass. “To good friends and good times.” She laughs, taking her shot, you and Jeongin taking yours seconds later.

The three of you stand there, the silence is deafening before Jeongin breaks it.

“Have you two ever kissed before?” He asks, looking between you both.

You both shake your heads no, you're feeling drunk enough already, while Chae takes a swig from the bottle before walking towards you. She cups your face with her hands, leaning in to press her lips against yours. You can hear Jeongin groan as he watches the two of you, slowly deepening the kiss, your tongues slipping into each other's mouths as you hold each other closer. Jeongin moves in, joining in on the kiss, his tongue swapping between your mouth and Chae’s until she breaks the kiss, licking her lips as she smiles at you and then Jeongin. Your heart is pounding, you feel flushed and tingly as you all look at each other. Chae's eyes are soft and sultry, Jeongin's lips are parted and panting.

“I guess we’re doing this,” She says, grabbing both your hands, leading you both to the bedroom.

Jeongin sits on the bed as he watches you and Chae undress each other, firstly discarding each other's shirts, and then pants and finally underwear. You both move towards him, undressing him, leaving his boxers last before finally letting his hard cock spring free. The three of you lay on the bed, Jeongin laying on his back. You hover your mouth over his cock as Chae immediately straddles his face, and he begins eating her pussy. You wrap your mouth around his cock, his fingers moving between your lips, to rub your clit as you shove his cock so deep down your throat, making him moan into her cunt. You spread your legs, giving Jeongin better access to your clit, his fingers were like magic on your body, making it almost impossible for you to last very long.

You cum quickly, as does Chae, you lay down on the bed as Chae gets off Jeongin's mouth, laying down on the other side of him. He gives you a half smile as he rolls over, towards Chae. You watch as he lifts her legs up, sliding his cock inside of her, making her moan. “Mhmm.” Jeongin groans. “Now for the main course.” He murmurs quietly. You're assuming he thinks you didn't hear him, but you most definitely did.

You notice how his eyes linger on hers, they both smile at each other as he slowly thrusts into her, a lot more sensually than it should be. He intertwined his fingers with hers as he leaned down to kiss her, the pace of the kiss matching the pace of his thrusts, slow and passionate. You clear your throat a few times but they don't notice you. You can hear him whispering in her ear, her moaning whispers in response but you can't hear what either of them are saying.

This wasn't what you expected when you three had decided to do a threesome. After a few more minutes of being ignored, you climbed out of bed, going into the bathroom to take a shower, trying to wash the shame and uncomfortable feeling you felt off your body. When you were done, you wrapped yourself in a towel, leaving the bathroom to your room where Jeongin was laying in bed, his chest heaving. You heard the front door slam shut, and you knew Chae left.

“That was.. wow.” He chuckles, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Thank you.” He breathes.

You don't respond, you're so upset at what just happened you can barely wrap your head around what just happened.

You get yourself dressed, walking out of the room to the kitchen where you grab a snack, going to the living room to watch a show. You just wanted to forget for a little bit and watch your favorite show.

“You okay babe?” Jeongin asks, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“I just wanna watch my show.” You mutter, moving yourself away from Jeongin who sat too close.

“Hey.” He says, taking the remote to pause the show. “What's wrong?”

“I don't want to get into it now.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/N.. talk to me.” He says, placing his hand on your knee.

“Don't!” You snap, pulling your knee away from him. “Don't touch me right now.”

“Okay, what is going on?” He asks, sitting back, almost as if he was offended.

“You and Chae are what's going on.” You snap. “You completely left me out to fuck her. Was that the plan all along?”

“What!?” Jeongin says, acting shocked. “We tried to involve you! You were so hesitant and we didn't want to force you! And then you left so we just assumed you didn't want to be involved anymore.” He explains.

“No.” You say. “You didn't try to involve me, not after you started fucking her. I saw the two of you.”

“Y/N.. were we in the same room?” He scoffs. “Yes we did, but you pulled away so many times. How much did you actually drink?” He asks.

“I didn't drink that much.” You murmur, but maybe you were wrong? Maybe you did drink too much.. maybe you weren't remembering it correctly?

“I wouldn't do that to you…” He half smiles. “I love you.”

You let out a big sigh, glancing over at your boyfriend. He had never previously done anything to make you feel like he was lying to you, so maybe the liquor did hit you harder than you realized.

“You're right… I'm sorry.” You say, snuggling into him. “I don't think I wanna do it again though.” You tell him.

“Mhmm… I agree.” He whispers, in a less than convincing tone.

A week later, you could cut the tension in the house between you and Jeongin with a knife and you didn't understand it. The night it happened, the two of you talked it out and everything was fine. But a few days later everything changed.

“He's distant, he won't talk to me, he's being really weird and I don't understand it. Everything was fine.” You complain to Chae.

“That's so weird.” She sighs, looking stumped.

“Has he told you anything?” You ask.

“What? No? I haven't heard from him… why would I hear from him?” She chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. You wanted to believe her, but she was also acting weird but it could also be in your head. To be honest, you weren't sure what to believe and it was driving you insane.

Chae reaches over the table grabbing your hand. “He loves you. Maybe it's just something with work.” She smiles. “Everything will be just fine.”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Everything will be fine.”