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

[emeraldserenade]

Could you write a fanfic where the reader has light-based healing powers that work on others but not on herself? She’s been injured like maybe a gunshot wound but is casually walking around like nothing’s wrong. Joaquin notices and starts freaking out, trying to get her to stop and take care of herself. Meanwhile, she’s confused and brushes it off, like, “Why do you even care?” They’re close friends, but she has this deep-seated belief that no one really cares about her, so his reaction throws her off. And she just goes to heal a minor cut on him and he’s like tweaking out

Healer ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you've always been able to heal everyone but yourself and you feel like no one wants to heal you

tw: fem!reader, reader has a younger sister, sister gets hit by car, gunshot wound, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

The thought of Joaquín tweaking out is so amusing to me. Anyway, this was fun to write.

➽──────────────❥

You healed people, you always have. It started small, hugs when your friends and family felt sad. No one knew right away, the hugs happened in private and eyes were always closed. The light the gently shined as you hugged them, as you healed them from their hurt, went unnoticed for years.

Then your sister got hit by a car, your baby sister that you swore you were mature enough to watch. You called out for your parents, they were preoccupied but they cane running. You were crying and cradling your sister in your arms, and that's when they saw it. A light shined from you, from where you were holding her, and then she was better.

From that moment on, you never really felt like a person anymore. It felt like people no longer cared about you, that they only cared about what you could do. You tried to heal yourself, from mental turmoil to small cuts, but it never worked. The light never shined and you never felt any better.

Eventually you met Joaquín and Sam, you were only a few feet away when they finished a fight. Both hurt and your guilt of being able to help started eating you live. So you ran, the consequences be damned, you ran to them and healed them before anyone could react. One small touch, just a brush on their arms, and they were completely better. Then you ran away and they wanted to find you.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"How'd you do it?" Sam questioned as he and Joaquín walked up to you, you were at your job, stacking the return books from the library turn in.

"Do what?" You tilted your head, your confusion real.

"Heal us, we each had at least something broken," Sam clarified.

"Oh, I just can. Not sure why, I think I always could," you told him, grabbing the stack of books and walking off. They followed you around as you put them back.

"I'm looking to put the Avengers back together," Sam mentioned.

"I'm not useful, I can only heal," you muttered.

"And we don't have any powers."

"You," you spun to face Sam, Joaquín had wandered off, "have suits." Sam paused, he didn't think you would be so against the idea.

"You don't have to have a suit, powers, or even know how to fight. You can come in after everything, you can do what you can," Sam told you and it was your turn to pause.

"I have a life here, I have a job and a," you stopped talking again, you were going to say a boyfriend. You had one, he cheated on you and only told you so you could heal his STI.

"A what?" Sam questioned and you sighed.

"A nothing, not anymore," you told him. "Can I test it out first? Like a no strings attached trial run?"

"You can," Sam affirmed and you nodded.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You were with the boys for months, you never left after you joined. You found a family and possibly a crush on Joaquín, one you tried to keep secret but you could tell Sam knew.

You started going on missions, Sam and Joaquín taught you to fight. And you spent more time bouncing between the two, healing a cut or broken bone every time you saw they had one. You weren't sure if they noticed that you never healed yourself, you've gotten pretty good at hiding what was wrong with you.

Then a gunshot sounded, you weren't with Sam or Joaquín, you were in a room fighting on your own. You felt the bullet tear through your skin, the deep seated pain that radiated from your upper arm. You ran to the assailant, your hand landed on his arm and you let your body heal something that wasn't there. His body went into overdrive and he fell as his body made tumors and killed him, it never felt good to do that but you did what you had to.

You walked around like normal, your jacket thrown on to cover your wound. You would address it later, when you had the right tools. You healed Sam, smiling at him as he thanked you. He was always genuine in his gratitude, yet you still felt that low hum of not being cared for.

Joaquín was off to the side, he managed to get out with little injuries so you went to Sam first. You didn't notice it, but your blood seeped through your crude dressing from a ripped shirt of the enemies and your jacket. Joaquín did, he saw it the moment you walked up, it worried him.

"Holy shit, are you ok?" Joaquín grabbed your forearm when you reached him. "What happened?" You glanced down at your arm at his words.

"I'm fine, why do you even care?" You pulled your arm away from his grasp, missing the look he gave you. You didn't wait for an answer, you reached out and gently laid your hand on his face. The warmth from your hand and the light settled into his skin as you healed his bruise, normally it was enough to calm him. But he was more worried about you, your wound, and your behavior.

It wasn't uncommon for you to brush off your injuries and no one questioned you, they were normally minor. A bruise or a small cut that would heal in a few days, but a gunshot wound? He pulled away before you were done healing the other bruises and cut on him, you gasped at the feeling of your healing being cut off.

"Joaquín, come back here," you tried to order but he shook his head. "Joaquín, what are you doing?" You questioned as he pulled you with him, he pushed you to sit on the back of the truck you all took there.

"Why'd you keep this to yourself?" Joaquín helped you take a jacket off and unwrapped your makeshift dressing.

"It's not that big of a deal," you told him.

"Why not heal it?"

"I can't heal myself," you admitted and he head whipped up to look you in the eyes. You were so close your noses were barely touching and your breathing mixed together. His eyes moved around your face, you couldn't tell if he was trying to see if you were lying or if he was taking in all your facial features.

"You can't heal yourself?" Joaquín's volume was considerably lower, almost a whisper. You couldn't find your voice to respond, so you gently nodded your head. Joaquín said nothing as he went back to dressing your wound, his movements slow and deliberate.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as Joaquín finished with your arm.

"It's ok, angel," Joaquín told you before planting a kiss to your forehead.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[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.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Kalim Al-Asim

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Kalim Al-Asim x Reader 🦦🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Kalim’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 3.540 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy 🦦

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / Rook / Vil / (Kalim) / Jamil / ...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho announces. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

Right after, what was heard were Vil's screams. After calming down, scolding you and Grim for not warning him about what dream to dream trips were like, and arguing a bit with Idia to the point where Ortho had to get in the middle peacefully to stop the discussion, Vil and the others finally look around to try to figure out where you all are.

They realize that, once again, you are not in Night Raven College and that the architecture is very similar to Scarabia and Scalding Sands, but also... that it's unbearably HOT! To cool off, Grim doesn't think twice before jumping into the huge fountain right next to you. A fountain with a statue that caught everyone's attention.

“That old man seems familiar, somehow.” Silver comments.

“That's the legendary Ruler of the Oasis.” A familiar voice explains. “He was a very upright man. When something worried him, he'd never keep it to himself. He consulted his retainer for everything... And they solved those problems together. In fact, he even revised the law to adapt to changing times. Isn't that cool?” Kalim reveals himself. “Here at Qasr Sultanate Academy, we honor the Ruler of the Oasis's spirit of magnanimity.”

“KALIM?!” Everyone is surprised to see him in those white and turquoise clothes.

“Hm? Have we met before?” Kalim asks. “Sorry, I'm not very good at remembering faces!” You see the dreamer's bird around his head. “Are they your friends, (Y/N)? Sorry I don't remember if you've introduced us before.”

“You still remember me?” You ask.

“HUH?! Of course I remember you!” he looks at you sadly. “Aww... Are you mad that I don't remember your friends? I understand and I'm so sorry...”

He was clearly so sad at the thought of hurting your feelings that you felt the need to tell him that you weren't mad and that he didn't need to worry because no, you never introduced them to him yet.

“Are you sure you're not mad at me?”

“No, no, of course not. Forget the question.” You needed to know more about that dream world, so you get into character. “I think I got a little confused too. It's okay.” You give him a reassuring smile.

“Really?!” Kalim widens his eyes in surprise. “I don't think I've ever seen you get as confused as I do. Ah hah hah! Maybe it's one of those couple things where they start to share traits after being together for a while.”

“Hm? Couple things?” Silver asks.

“I guess reintroductions are in order. I'm Kalim Al-Asim, a sophomore at Qasr Sultanate Academy, and (Y/N)'s boyfriend.” He says with a huge smile.

Everyone looks shockingly surprised.

“Hm? What's wrong?” Kalim asks. “Oh, maybe you weren't expecting us to be so close because of our clothes. Speaking of which, why aren't you wearing your uniform, (Y/N)? But now that I look at it, you seem to be wearing the same clothes as them. Oh! I know, they were your classmates at your previous- ah!” Kalim's smile suddenly disappears and the regretful look returns. “Oh... sorry... I forgot for a moment that you weren't from... here...”

“Oh, it's okay.” You try to shrug it off. “These clothes... um...”

“Are a gift.” Vil says. “But don't worry about it. (Y/N), you can change your clothes if you want.” Vil says, encouraging you to do so.

You say yes, and that new clothes might be better for that whether.

“Yes, you’re right. You don't have any headwear to block the sun, and the fabric your clothes are made from doesn't seem very breathable... Ah!” Kalim gets concerned. “Now that I'm looking, you guys are seriously sweating!”

“Rgh... This black fabric is absorbing the sunlight.” Sebek says “It's like I'm in a sauna!”

“Same.” Ortho agrees. “My gear's internal temperature is rising so sharply, my cooling systems can't keep up...”

“Oh gosh, are you okay? Hold on, I'll get you some cold, refreshing water! Respite in the scalding sands, a neverending party. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!”

And it starts to rain gently on you all.

“Mmm, that truly is refreshing!” Sebek says gratefully. “I can feel the water's coolness seeping into me.”

“While I appreciate the gesture, you shouldn't splash water into people's faces. You'll ruin their makeup.” Vil says. “Could you put some in this cup instead?” He summons a cup in his hand.

Upon realizing that they are also mages, Kalim begins to ask about the school they came from. You also discover that Qasr Sultanate Academy is an Arcane school as well and Kalim says it was built by his father for him two years ago.

“Ooh, say! I'm sure something brought us together.” Kalim says excitedly. “You should tell me more about your own school!”

“Ah, this presents a perfect chance to probe fo weakness in the dream!” Ortho comments discreetly.

“True. But...” Vil addresses Kalim. “It's far too sunny out here. I don't want to get a sunburn. Would it be possible to head indoors for this discussion?”

“Ah hah hah! Why move, when we can just have shelter brought to us? There's a nice breeze going, after all. Hey, everyone! Prepare a party!”

Kalim claps his hands and a bunch of people start organizing things. Rushing in with parasols and tableware, laying out rugs and setting out food dishes. Kalim explains that they are retainers who came here with him from home.

“Oh, (Y/N), do you mind if I try to change your clothes?” Kalim asks as the retainers prepare the picnic “I love it when we match!” You accept and he becomes even happier and more excited. “Okay, this has gone well the last few times. Let's see if I can do it again.”

Kalim raises his staff and transforms your NRC uniform into a white and turquoise uniform similar to the one he is wearing.

“You always look so pretty in those clothes.” He says super happy. “You remind me of the Ruler of the Oasis's daughter. But I must have told you this many times because I remember you telling me that our story was backwards, and that I was more like the princess and you were more like the commoner. Ah hah hah! But regardless of your clothes, you know you're my jasmine, right?”

“Jasmine?” You ask.

“Yeah, like the flower that the princess's beloved offered her. Aww, if only I could summon a branch of them now... but I still don't have a good grasp of those spells.”

And then, discreetly, a familiar red magic carpet appears behind Kalim, taps his shoulder to make him look back and gives him a jasmine bouquet before flying away again.

“Ah hah hah! I think he's feeling shy around so many new people.” he hands you that bouquet with a cute smile. “I have to think of a way to thank him later.”

“Kalim Al-Asim.” Ortho asks after the picnic is ready. “You and (Y/N) make a beautiful couple. If it's not too indiscreet, may I ask how you two met?”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” He seemed excited to tell the story of the two of you. “You know, they're not from-” he stops and looks at you, as if looking for approval to reveal that information. You nod encouragingly. “They're not from Twisted Wonderland.”

“Oh! Truly?!” Vil acts surprised, as do the others.

“Yeah! Here at Qasr Sultanate Academy we have a magical artifact called The Hourglass of Clairvoyance. It’s a giant hourglass with magic sand that allows us to travel to other places. At the beginning of this school year, (Y/N) simply emerged from the sand at the bottom of the hourglass and Grim at the top.”

“Oh, so I'm part of this too? Nice!” Grim comments to himself. “Wait! If I'm part of this... Where's my tuna tray?!”

One of Kalim's retainers appeared beside him with a golden tray and when he uncovers it, it is full of glass jars of tuna stacked in a pyramid.

“That's what I'm talkin' about! Mrah ah ah!”

“Yes! The party is ready. Make yourselves at home and eat up!” Kalim says with a smile. “We've got a whole spread here and plenty more where that came from. To our meeting today! Cheers!”

And everyone does so.

“Mrah... That breeze they're makin' with those big fans feels so good!”

“Right?” Kalim agrees. “The sun's rays can be harsh in the Scalding Sands... But it's also arid, so it's pleasantly cool once you're in the shade. You should try some of these crackers with blue cheese. They're really good. Eat up!” Kalim proceeds to shove the crackers down Grim's throat.

They talk a little more about Qasr Sultanate Academy and Night Raven College. Sebek, as expected, found a way to show how proud he was to serve the great Malleus Draconia, and Kalim proved to be quite knowledgeable about Briar Valley's textile products thanks to the things his father told him. This also made Sebek mention the story of the King who got rid of all the spinning wheels in the kingdom to save his daughter, and Kalim says that he finds the story as beautiful as the story of the Ruler of the Oasis's daughter who fell in love with a commoner and in order to see his daughter happy, the Ruler of the Oasis changed the law so that she would be allowed to marry whoever she wanted and not just someone from royalty.

“I can imagine how happy the couple was.” Kalim says before turning to you, holding one of you hands affectionately, look you in the eyes and tell you: “I myself would be devastated if I couldn't be with the person I love the most just because of a silly rule.” and he kisses your cheek.

Meanwhile, Vil, Idia and Ortho talk among themselves about that dream, which to anyone else would be crazy enough to be unrealistic, but in the case of a guy as rich as Kalim ends up being plausible enough. They needed to discover the crucial moment in Kalim's life that Malleus' spell was trying to suppress so they could use it to wake him up. They were wondering why he didn't remember NRC, where he seemed to be very happy, when you and Grim joined the conversation.

“Hmm... This could fit what happened with Rook.” Idia theorizes. “A route that avoids a tragedy that unfolds due to attending Night Raven College.”

“What kinda tragedy would Kalim goin' to Night Raven cause...? Ah!” Grim realizes.

“Is it what happened over winter break...?” You question.

“What's all this commotion?” A familiar voice makes itself heard. “What's going on, Kalim? Nobody told me to expect company! How many times must I tell you to always inform me ahead of time when inviting guests? If you had...” You see Jamil wearing the same white and turquoise uniform as you and Kalim. “...I would have arranged for an even finer banquet and a whole band!” And with an uncanny smile on his face.

“JAMIL?!” Everyone says in astonishment.

“I'm surprised you didn't tell me either, (Y/N).”Jamil continues, still with that strange, happy and relaxed smile. “You're usually the one who reminds Kalim of these things when I'm not around. Come now, Kalim! If you're holding such a fun-filled event, you should invite me. After all, aren't we best friends?”

“Sorry about that! I just ran into them over by the fountain when I was looking for (Y/N). They're here from Night... uh... something, an arcane academy in a foreign land.”

“Ooh, I see! I'm Jamil Viper. Like Kalim, I'm a sophomore here at Qasr Sultanate Academy. I hope I can be just as much of a friend to you as my best friend Kalim and his partner (Y/N). Nice to meetcha!”

“What's wrong, (Y/N)?” Kalim asks you as the others introduce themselves back to Jamil. “You're looking at Jamil funny.”

“Oh, it's just... Jamil is not like this, Kalim...”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Hey, Kalim.” Jamil says. “I don't see your favorite ice cream in this spread. Shouldn't you serve that to our guests?”

“I figured they'd want a regular meal first. But hey, I'm getting full, so this should be a good time for it!”

“In that case... You should make a run to the kitchen and fetch some for us, Kalim.”

“He DEFINITELY wouldn't say that!” You, Sebek and Silver say in unison.

“Huh?! What's with the yelling all of a sudden?” Kalim asks.

“Kalim, think long and hard.” Silver says. “You grew up with Jamil. He's your friend. Is this really how he acts?”

“Huh? Wha? You guys know Jamil?”

“Yeah! And all this best friend talk...” Grim says annoyed. “Remember over winter break when you told him you wanted to be friends? He shut that down hard with a big fat 'Not on your life!'”

“Not on... your life? Jamil said that?”

The dream world starts to distort and Kalim begins to remember what happened that day in Scarabia.

“Urgh! What was that just now? Augh, my head!”

“Kalim! Hey, snap out of it!” Fake Jamil interferes. “You people... You're assassins after Kalim, aren't you?! Guards! GUAAARDS!” The floor was painted black by the goop that appeared to transform into the guards. “Seize these street rats!”

While the others fought the darkness figures, you managed to escape and run to Kalim to tell him not to listen to that Jamil.

“Are you going to tell him to believe you?” Jamil says with a mocking smile. “Oh Kalim, there’s someone I'm dying to introduce you to.” He takes out his magic pen. “Say hello to your precious,” he makes your headdress disappear. “Desert” Your upper clothes turn into a worn and baggy t-shirt. “Bloom.” The rest in baggy, torn pants and your shoes disappear.

“(Y/N)?...” He holds your hands and looks into your eyes, confused.

“Not quite.” Jamil stands between the two of you to separate you with a push. “An impostor posing as (Y/N). An identity thief!”

All of that makes Kalim's head hurt even more, the ground becomes unstable and the darkness takes you away from them.

“Kalim, stay with us. (Y/N) is safe inside the academy building, and the guards are here now. It's okay!”

“Hey, Jamil... You're my best friend, right? You wouldn't betray me, right?”

“Of course I wouldn't. Why, the very idea!” Jamil assures him. “Such a terrible thought has never even crossed my mind! Not once!”

“STOP LYIN'!” Grim shouts. “You betrayed Kalim bad, and you knocked us all to the end os the earth!”

The world distorts again and the scenery changes to where you and the others landed that day. The end os the earth, a dark and cold part of the Scarabia desert.

“The ends of the earth...? Whoa! It's freezing!” Kalim is startled. “What's going on here?!”

“Oh, poor Kalim.” Fake Jamil says. “You must be reeling from the shock of betrayal after showing these people such hospitality.”

The world distorts again and the scene returns to Qasr Sultanate Academy.

“Look at me, Kalim. As long as I'm here for you, you've got nothing to worry about... Right?” Fake Jamil uses his signature spell, Snake Whisper, on him. “Kalim, trust me.”

“Rgh...” Kalim closes his eyes as if trying to resist, but when he opens them again his pupils are glowing red. “I trust you... Jamil...”

“He's trying to manipulate you!” You try to warn him again.

“Manipulate... me? Jamil? Augh!” With yet another headache from Kalim, the world distorted again.

“I would never do that. Don't believe that imposter street rat. Look at my sincere gaze. Do these look like the eyes os a liar?”

Vil tells Kalim not to look Jamil in the eyes, but the fake Jamil keeps talking about how they've been friends since they were kids, and how they had always been open and honest with each other, never worrying about their social status. That he is Kalim's closest companion and Kalim is his.

“You're right...” Kalim says despite the headaches. “We're best friends that can be honest with each other... Rrgh!”

But this is where Vil interferes and says that being honest is far from being an attribute of Jamil. That underneath that composed expression, he's poised and ready to strike at the neck of those who dare get ahead of him. And the smoldering, hungry mindset is the reason he put Jamil on main vocals in the NRC Tribe.

That name sounds familiar to Kalim, but the fake Jamil tries again to convince him not to listen to Vil.

But Vil continues, talking more about how Jamil is not the kind of generous soul that affirms everything about him. How Jamil complains, looks down on others, always got a scheme or two up his sleeve, and is hardly trustworthy. Vil would never want someone like him as his most trusted retainer. But Kalim is positively stubborn and that's what makes him continue to insist on trying to be true friends with Jamil. But is also what makes Kalim him and what makes him so fearsome.

“What kind of wealthy business heir is content to remain in an imposter's clutches?” Vil concludes. “Stop cowering and wake up already, Kalim Al-Asim!”

“Kalim, look at me.” Fake Jamil insists. “I'm the only one you trust!”

“Rgh... No.... Not... the only one... Not anymore... and Jamil knows that... the one I trust... Aaagh!”

The memories return to Kalim, a sequence of events from that winter break and everything that followed after that. The dream is broken, and Kalim wakes up. The scene changes to Scarabia's lounge that day, the cloudy sky darkening the place, the red lights on the lamps and through the clouds and a slight chilling fog around you all.

The fake Jamil tries again to help Kalim and show concern, but Kalim pushes him away. It's true that Jamil worries about Kalim, but not because they are friends, because he is the boss of Jamil. He likes and wants to be friends with Jamil, but the real one, not that one.

A battle against that fake Jamil takes place, until that figure turns into black goop and disappears. The clouds dissipate revealing a beautiful starry night sky, the lights turn a warm yellow that illuminates the lounge and the fog disappears.

“Kalim! Are you all right?” Silver asks worriedly as he sees Kalim sobbing and huffing after the fight.

And that's when Kalim breaks down into tears. Seeing him like this, crying kneeling on the floor alone, you can't suppress the urge to kneel down beside him to hug and comfort him.

“How... How could I fail to realize that Jamil was a fake?!” He says crying on your shoulder. “I really do want us to be true friends... The kind that can be totally open with one another! But... in the end, I choose a version of Jamil that fit my own narrative. How can I ever face Jamil again?”

But then Kalim realizes something else, and lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, now dressed in the NRC uniform.

“Wait... You... We are not dating either, are we?... Ah!” He pulls away from you, blushing and almost falling backwards. “Aah, I’m s-sorry! I-I didn't mean to... huh...”

You also liked Kalim, but his friendly and loving personality made it difficult to tell if he really had a crush on you or not. A question that was answered in that dream. However, you still ask about it.

“So... You really like me?”

“Hm? Yes... you never noticed? Ah hah hah! I thought I never hid my feelings.”

“In (Y/N)'s defense,” Vil explains. “It's more a question of when someone is so... loving to everyone, it becomes difficult to know who is really special to you and who is not.”

“REALLY?! Aw... I’m sorry, (Y/N). I didn't mean to confuse you. But... I also don't want to make you uncomfortable... I'm sorry if I did...”

You say it was a surprise, but that you didn't feel uncomfortable, quite the opposite, and you reveal your feelings for him too. Kalim gets astonished for a second, but then he shows you the biggest smile and throws himself at you to hug you with more tears in his eyes.

“Should we leave you two alone for a moment?” Ortho asks.

“Ah hah hah! Sorry, sorry.” Kalim stands up and extends his hand to help you get up as well. “It's true that Jamil was the only person I trusted, but that was before I met you. You are the person I trust the most, (Y/N). Now and forever.”

“Kalim is so extra that this sounds more like wedding vows.” Idia comments through the tablet. “Can someone PLEASE end this mushy torture?!”

Vil clears his throat quite loudly. “Far be it from me to ruin the moment, but could we get back to the main topic?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” Kalim turns his attention back to the rest of the group. “I'm totally lost on why I look like this and why any of this is happening. Could someone fill me in on what's going on?”

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[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.

[mittenkisses]

Okay so, I was reading a few twst fics (as one does) and stumbled upon some cute Valentine's Day hcs from last month. It mostly revolved around the boys being cute and giving gifts, but that got me thinking.

I was one of the less popular kids growing up, and because of that, I usually only got Valentine's gifts from my mom (she's awesome and wanted to make sure I'd have a good day). Now I'm wondering how the twst boys would react to learning that the prefect/MC was in a similar boat?

valentine's day gifts

ft : first years (ace, deuce, jack, epel, sebek)

a/n : i decided to just go with the first years for this, but if you want more characters feel free to ask!!

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ 🐚

to be honest, ace probably laughs at you. you mention it to him a few days before valentines day, when everyone at school is either talking about how excited they are or how stupid everyone is for getting excited. honestly, you're not even saying it to earn pity points (if anything, you're dropping a hint), but you don't expect him to laugh at you. ...then again, he is an asshole, so you're not too surprised. you laugh it off, maybe punch his shoulder. it's really not that big a deal—but on the 14th, you wake up to a box of obviously homemade chocolates in a heart-shaped box. everyone you talk to denies it was them, but you don't miss the way ace's cheeks turn pink when you ask.

deuce is in a similar boat as you. not many people liked him, and the only person who ever gave him gifts was his mother. he completely understands your situation, but not why you were put into it. you're so amazing! how could anyone not like you? he spends the entire day before valentine's getting trey to help him make some sweets for you, and he puts a lot of effort into making them look pretty. he presents them to you first thing in the morning and asks you to taste them first, to make sure they're as good as you'd like.

jack isn't much of a valentine's fan, but he notices the way you seem a bit sad when talking about your past experiences with the holiday. although he personally doesn't place much value into valentine's gifts, he can't just sit back and let this stand. you deserve way better! he wakes up early in the morning, but rather than go for his usual run, he spends the time before class carefully spooning his chocolate mixture into the moulds and freezing them. you sit beside him in your first class, and under the desk he slides you a neatly wrapped box. you thank him, but he gives no response aside from his tail wagging harder.

epel doesn't know how to make chocolates and he's too embarrassed to ask for help, but he can make a damn good pie. years of practice have given him great skill in the art of pie-making, and although the lattice in the top crust is a bit wonky and the heart he'd cut out isn't even, it tastes delicious. he presents it to you proudly, although he pretends he's just showing off his skills rather than giving you a gift. valentine's day is stupid, he says, he just so happened to give it to you on the day. just a coincidence!

sebek loudly goes on about his hatred of the holiday, how unnecessary it is to have a day dedicated to love, and—what's that? you've never really celebrated? well, that's not fair, he won't stand for that! you find him in the school's cafeteria, dirty dishes scattered about as he peers closely at the recipe book in front of him. when he realises you're there, he turns red, yelling at you to leave because this is supposed to be a surprise! he stiffly hands the container of chocolates to you the next day, refusing to look at you, then runs off before you can say a word.

[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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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

[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.

[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♡♡

[wukyma]

I'm very curious about your Posepoli AU if you are OK with sharing facts about it ? Maybe what you have in mind? Or what Poseidon have in mind withvhis proposition 🤔 I can't only imagine the crew reaction

Also I'm in absolute love with your art ! The way you color? Your Odysseus ? Incredible. Make me think about fairy tales book illustrations you know ? And don't let go on your design of Poseidon ? He look so cold and distanced, it's actually genius!

Oh, thank you so much 💖 It means a lot! I loved illustrated fairytales as a kid and had a similar book of Greek myths, so that's probably where the style comes from, hehe

As for the AU... I lied shamelessly in the other post and speedran through coloring the panels and imma show y'all everything today!

If you haven't seen the previous one go check it out first

SO, Polites lives. But now he has to cope with the consequences of their recklessness,,

⬇️⬇️⬇️ cut because yapping again

The wind bag gets opened, and they're faced with Poseidon seeking revenge,,

Odysseus' apology isn't accepted (who even apologizes like that??), but Poseidon doesn't get to strike him —

Polites steps in and asks for them to be spared.

The god almost laughs in his face because that's an utterly ridiculous attempt, but decides that there's no harm in amusing himself a bit. Yet, no matter what Poseidon thinks about the man and how much he despises his ideals,, Polites is very different from most mortals he met, with his unshakeable belief in a better world (that realization happens much later in the plot, at the moment he's just pissed off)

So, yeah. Poseidon gives them a challenge: if they find another way around the storm, continue their journey without harming or killing (as per Poli's ideology), and get home, he will spare everyone, even Odysseus. The one who's formally "responsible" for holding up their end of the deal is still Polites, and he gets a kind of seal/tattoo as proof that neither side will go against the terms (yay ✨️aesthetics ✨️)

Forgot to mention: the whole crew is alive — 600 men making their way to Ithaca!

Next stop would be Circe's island,,, guess who will become besties? Ehehwhe

Things I believe are important to mention:

Poseidon REALLY doesn't like Polites in this AU (well,, for now) and wants to see him fail, then drown the fleet and be done with it

His main motivation here wouldn't be to avenge Polyphemus, but to prove that Polites is wrong (same as with Odysseus, but more intense)

Get ready for tons of mockery in the next part ( ；∀；)

I headcanon (not just in this AU but in general) that Polites, Perimedes, and Elpenor are also very close friends!

Odysseus is oblivious about Poli's feelings towards him (dude is mole-blind when it comes to that), but Eurylochus knows

Umm, so that's it for now! See y'all next time, because telling things without throwing pictures in seems meh... However, that's up to you, too. I can continue as it is and draw the scenes you'd like to see and/or choose later :3 Just write how u think would be more okayish i guess??

Bonus thing: congrats on reading till the end lol. there is one inconsistency in the comic above. at the sketch stage I flipped 3 of these panels, and they don't match with the other ones (seen in the details) first one to guess (say the nr order, idc) gets to request ANYTHING epic‐related from me :D

[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)

[general-kenobis]

mess of me | S.H.

Summary: Steve breaks a promise and it ruins your friendship. He doesn't hide the frustration about the possibility of seeing you leave Hawkins.

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, slight praising

Word count: 2.8k

♥

Steve likes the way you dress up when you go out with your group of friends, but this is the second time he sees you in a bikini. And it makes him want to punch his own face.

You all decided to take a small trip to a lake with a waterfall. The late spring days started to feel hotter and you just wanted to do something different. Hawkins isn't exactly the best destination to spend a day doing something good.

He watches as you swim with Robin and the other girls. She splashes water at you as you both laugh. Nancy and Jonathan are enjoying the waterfall, all while Argyle and the boys fight with water guns.

Steve is sitting next to Eddie under the sunshade, the latter reading a fictional book as he wears dark shorts, a bandana wrapped around his hair that's tied in a ponytail.

"If you keep looking at her that much, I'm pretty sure she's gonna have third degree burns from your staring" Eddie speaks up, still focused on his book.

He snaps his head to the side, scoffing at his friend's words. "M'not looking at anyone. Just watching the view from the lake"

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, right. The view, huh?"

"Shut up, Munson" He rolls his eyes.

They're talking about you. You are the reason why Steve keeps staring too much at the lake, not even caring to jump in the water for a refresh. His friend knows you don't get along with him ever since he broke his promise of keeping your secret safe with him.

He ended up telling everyone you were planning on going back to New York. No one knew about your plans, not even Robin who's your closest friend after him. You didn't want to tell them just yet.

They were disappointed at you at first. But then, they all seem pretty understandable. Because any other place in the country would be better than Hawkins. Even if your friends lived there, even if the man you ever really liked lived there.

Even if it meant being away from everything that made you feel safe and happy. And Steve was mad at you because of that. He was mad you were willing to get away from them. He thought you were running away from everything.

He never really meant to betray you. He was nervous, frustrated. He didn't want you to leave. He still doesn't want you to leave. If he thinks too much about it, his body starts to get rigid and tense. His fingers curl in rage.

Eddie knows all about his friend's feelings. He knows how much he cares about you, how he would fight for you to stay. But now, you can't even really look at him without feeling sad and angry. Angry because you trusted him. Sad because you thought you had his back.

You've been friends for almost a year now, but you're close enough to trust each other. That's what you actually thought until he told everyone you were leaving soon. Now you just can't stand looking at his face.

His pretty fucking face, painted with moles of various sizes. His sun-kissed skin, strong muscles and sharp jawline. Maybe this is one of the reasons you have doubts about staying. But who knows if you're his type anyway.

Through his sunglasses he can't keep his eyes off you. His jaw is clenched and his teeth are gnashing from the pressure. All he wanted to do right now was to push you against a wall and ruin you. Not even in a good way, because he can't stand the fact he has to deal with your cold shoulder.

And he knows he did wrong with you. It wasn't his intention to. And he apologized whenever he could. He would kneel in front of you at random moments and apologize. He would send you roses with small notes. Damn, he would leave letters on your doorstep. But you would never respond to them, you would never actually let him know if he was forgiven. Steve didn't want to see you leave without forgiving him. And it was chewing him alive.

He watched as you got off the lake, grabbing a towel and drying yourself before you walked back to the car to pick a snack. He took it as an opportunity to follow you. You were fumbling through the basket looking for a bag of doritos when he stood right beside you, leaning against the car.

"Fuck off, Harrington" You grumbled, not even daring to look at him.

You recognized him by his scent, and you hated that you knew him just that much.

He didn't answer. Rather, he crossed his arms and waited until you finally picked what you wanted. You gave him silence again, and he sighed.

"How many times do you still want me to apologize? Because I'll do it"

"Doesn't matter, Steve. That's the problem, you were so selfish you couldn't keep my fucking secret safe with you for more than a week!" You snapped at him. He seemed unfazed by your anger because that's how you've been treating him ever since then.

"I was desperate because how could you even do that to us? You're leaving everything and everyone behind!" He pulled back from the car, extending his arm in exasperation.

"I don't want to go through this again, especially with you. I told you why, I don't think I have to give you an explanation for my decisions"

As you tried to walk back to the lake, he gripped your forearm carefully so he wouldn't hurt you. Steve pulled you back only a few steps, hesitantly closing the distance. You didn't want to be this close to him, it was too hard to look at his face.

"You're right, you don't. But– it's hard to let you leave" He looked at your face, how you were still hurt.

You were avoiding his gaze at all costs. His hazel eyes were too intense at this point.

"We barely know each other, Harrington. We've only met months ago. Don't say things like that when you don't mean them"

"The way you think you know me is so frustrating, by the way" He places his forefinger under your chin and lifts your face so you can finally look at him. "Stop being so stubborn, please look at me"

It takes several seconds for you to give in. You're still angry at him, you still wish you could just punch his perfect face. But you stay still without saying a word. Your creased brows are the only response he gets besides your watery eyes. You obviously want to cry. You wish you had another option, but you already made peace with the fact you want to leave Hawkins.

"I'm fucking sorry I was an idiot. I never wanted to hurt you in any fucking way. And if I could actually go back in time I would shut my fucking mouth" He curses through every sentence. His irises are almost burning holes into yours from the intense staring.

You keep looking at each other. Your mouth is closed in a thin line because what else can you say? You're reluctant about forgiving him. But maybe it's time to give up on it and finally move past it.

You’re both quiet, he crosses his arms again and just stands there with his head hanging low. You’re not sure what you should do. You don’t know what’s the right thing to do right now. You hate the situation, you just didn’t want it to be like that. 

“Just-” He sighs deeply. “Think about it, alright? I’m not gonna force you into doing anything”

You nod. There’s a small tension between you two, and you the meaning of all of this conversation. 

"You know you're very obvious about the way you look at me, right?" You suddenly ask, watching his expression turn into surprise as his eyes widen. You can't help but smirk. "Everyone keeps saying you're not exactly disguising it".

"What– I never did that" He tries to be oblivious, his tone was nervous and he averted his eyes from yours.

You chuckle at his defensive response. "Come on, Steve. Let's settle something, then. I'll forgive you if you admit this as your secret".

You look at him expectantly. He's still not looking at you, holding his hips as he bites into his inner cheeks. Steve groans and throws his head back. If that's what it takes for you to stop hating him, then it's worth doing it.

"Okay. Yeah, yeah, it's true" He glances at you again and moves his hands to place them both over your face and it surprises you. "Actually, I can't help but think about you for a while. It's stupid, but it's true. I think maybe it's why I reacted so badly at the news of you leaving. Because I didn't want to believe it".

His words hit you like a punch to the guts. And everything makes sense. He was definitely desperate and he couldn't think of anything else to do. His reaction wasn't really honest. He lost a few people before, he didn't want to lose you either.

But now, the thought of leaving the town and leaving him behind is starting to lose meaning. Because yes, you also couldn't stop thinking about him either.

You're too fond of him to be honest. Your first instinct is to pull him closer and finally kiss him. He didn't expect you to do it, so he stumbles forward a little. His hands still planted on your face, now cradling it. He kisses you back, sticking his tongue out to touch yours. It's delicate, but fervent as well. You taste the gum in his mouth and it's addicting already.

He doesn't let go of you until he tries to catch his breath. He retracts his head back only a few inches so he can take a look at you again. Steve pulls you for another kiss and struggles to hold back the groans in the back of his throat. Because you're too good to actually be true. Your taste is better than anything he's had before. Your tongue is fighting for dominance and he likes the way your teeth latch onto his bottom lip and gently pull it.

Still glued to you, he guides you behind the trees and bushes until you can't see the lake. The sun is peeking through the leaves and your breath hitches at the sight of him shirtless in front of you. His hazel eyes look brighter because of the light. You feel him pushing you against the tree, one of his hands splayed against your chest as the other one he uses to hold your waist.

"Steve, what are you–"

He pecks your lip hurriedly to shush you. "Just let me, okay? I know I lost your trust, but trust me on this just for today".

Steve plants soft kisses through your skin as he goes down, leaving traces of spit against your stomach, reaching for the straps of your bikini bottom. It takes your breath away to see him undoing the knot with just his teeth, watching as he looks up at you with something different in his eyes. You've only seen him looking at you like that only a couple of times. His fingertips graze the material as he pulls it to the side, revealing your cunt to him. You thank God you've shaved it.

He breathes against your skin and it gives you goosebumps. His hands are holding your ass tightly, squeezing it hard as he looks at your glistening folds. It almost sparkles against the sunlight and he can't think of anything more admiring right now. He kissed just a few inches close to your center, leaving a wet patch on your skin. You try to hold yourself, gripping the tree with both hands. 

Steve holds your left leg high until he places it over his shoulder, opening your folds just a little. It's enough for him to grow into his shorts. He effortlessly uses his thumb to open your cunt, watching in awe the way you're soaking for him. He pecks your skin softly, just above your clit and it makes you whine.

You hear him shushing you, because no matter if you're far from the lake, you wouldn't wanna be loud. Even though your friends know that, if you're taking too long to come back, you might as well be doing something they don't even care about.

You throw your head back, holding his hair through your fingers. It sends shock waves through your body as soon as he licks your folds for the first time. He slides his tongue up and down your slick, tasting your juices, humming in appreciation. He still holds one of your inner labia with his thumb to have more access. Everything seems to fade away in front of you, the sound of the waterfall is muffled and the air becomes dense. He draws circles with the tip of his tongue over your clit and you squirm under him.

"You're too fucking sweet, fuck" He grumbles, his lips softly grazing your skin.

He licks your pussy with so much pleasure, trying to taste you as much as he can. Steve changes between licking you and flicking his tongue over your clit. He slides his thumb down your entrance, making no effort to push into your hole and he hears you whimper. His finger works its way in and out of you, sliding up and down your core, feeling your walls contracting. You pull his locks tighter, messing with his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach grow wider.

You snapped your eyes open suddenly, your lungs missing the air that left your body when Steve sucked on your clit, still fucking you with his thumb. He was humming against you, his mouth trapping your soft and sensitive skin, his tongue savoring you.

"Oh my God, Steve. That's–" You couldn't even finish your sentence because he didn't let you.

He was too focused on eating you out and fucking you mindless. You felt him shaking his head, giving you more pleasure than you thought it was possible. His thumb was quick to pump you, his lips adorning your clit in such a lustful way. His hair was so messy, it gave him the look of someone that was so pussy drunk, you throbbed against him.

Steve pulled your skin harder, feeling your body jolt in response. He took only a few seconds to look up at you, pupils dilated and blown eyes. His brows were knitted as he kept fucking you. He loved the view from down there, your chest heaving, your eyes also blown out. Mouth agape and nipples almost piercing through the fabric from being too hard.

His cock was pounding against his shorts, he could feel the burning sensation of it, because he was about to explode inside it. And he couldn't hold it back, especially because he didn't want to.

When he started to feel your pussy clenching around his finger, he slowed his pace, knowing it would give you more pleasure. He knew what he was doing. It makes your orgasm last longer too. Each second that passed, he could see how tense you were becoming. Every flick of his tongue on your clit was a jolt to your body. Your legs were trembling really bad and your mouth was dry.

You tried not to moan his name too loud, you tried to keep your whimpering down. He didn't even try to keep silent. You could hear him moaning and groaning against your core as well. You watched the moment his face contorted and he breathed heavily, hissing against your skin.

Steve sucked on your clit a few more times, circling your pussy with his thumb until you broke down on him. You throbbed and clenched, soaking his finger. He could feel you falling apart for him, pulling his hair up and forcing your cunt into his face, his nose nudging on your pubic bone. He stayed there for a while, now licking your wet pussy, gathering the rest of your juices left. He pecked on your skin gently, pulling out of you, hearing you cry out from missing his touch.

He tied the knot on your bikini back and pushed himself up. Finally meeting your flushed face after the show he just gave you. For a moment, you missed the way his shorts were wet because you could barely see it. He brushes a few strands of your sweaty hair off your face and glances at you.

"I'm really sorry I was an idiot before" He pleaded. You couldn't even process his words because you were still in a haze.

You closed the gap between you two and kissed him softly. "Please, don't leave Hawkins".

He held your waist desperately, squeezing it a little as he opened his eyes and rested his forehead against yours. You didn't answer him. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. Only right now you wanted him, just him.

"You're gonna need to refresh when we get back" You joke, feeling the wet short touching your thigh. Looking down at himself, he understands immediately and chuckles.

"You made a mess of me, in so many ways" Steve doesn't let you go out of his touch, he wants to stay there like that forever.

He holds you against his chest as you lean against the tree for several minutes. He leans on top of your head and closes his eyes. He feels his heart thumping against his chest. Steve fears he's still gonna lose you after this, but even if you go, at least he knows he's forgiven.

[aerkame]

Hi! I hope everything is okay in your life!

Please when you can, no pressure: could you do some platonic headcanons with Sun Wukong from Nezha Reborn? Thank you! ^^

Sorry this took a while to get to! I am feeling like getting back to writing and drawing again though, it used to help me feel better quite a bit and things are calming down in my life now. ❤️

As for NR Wukong? I decided to rewatch the movie again just in case. He's a complicated character, way more complicated than I realized. I'm planning to write for him more often too and that needs a lot of researching on my part. He's not exactly as he makes himself out to be sometimes (you can see who he really is around the scene when he reveals his identity, he drops the silly act and gets serious).

Sun Wukong in Nezha Reborn is very similar to his book counterpart if you pay close attention to his mannerisms and behavior. He's not a good person, but not the absolute worst either. He's a morally grey and cutthroat person who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and he'll definitely say whatever is on his mind.

Wukong's a bit scary when you think about it. He ate another yaoguai, offered a piece of it to the guy who hired that assassin, he can move at speeds almost unseen, throw a dead dragon's body away by the whisker, and he's also a hitman... and yet, you two are somehow friends.

That being said... having a platonic relationship with him is going to be chill, overwhelming, or lively, maybe all three if you're unlucky.

It's not overwhelming for the reasons you might think it is, it's mainly because the dude needs to be in everyone's space. No seriously, when is he not close to someone that's in the same room with him? He'd be pretty clingy, probably hanging around (literally from the ceiling) near you if there's no one else around...he may or may not try to groom you if you have enough hair to do that as well. Just monkey business.

The Monkey King really lives up to his name and he acts like one too. Doing what he wants, going wherever he pleases...even if it's in your own home, he'll show up there eventually for whatever given reason, maybe he's just bored or maybe he's just trying to give you a good spook. What? He's a curious guy, he just wanted to see what his friend's place looks like. Don't ask how he knows where you live.

Oh did he ever mention he's bored and lonely? It's not good for a monkey to be alone for long, so you're gonna have to do for now! (lucky you)

Much like how he dresses, Wukong loves to show off what he has and places he goes. You've never been on a motorcycle before? Well say no more! Ol' Sun is going to show you around the place on his cool bike. It roars too! He's 100% going to make sure he's revving that thing as loud as he can just to scare you and get a reaction. Maybe scare a nearby stranger walking by too.

Probably pulls a few tricks on you here and there just cause. He may or may not have taken your favorite shirt and hid it somewhere up high in the pipes and returned it while you weren't looking just to mess with you.

At the end of the day though, he's not so bad to be around. Just try not to stir up any trouble with yaoguais or shady figures. The old king would rather not get himself involved with any affairs, but he cares, and he'll admit that if something happened to you it'd just be another scar over his heart. He's just so tired...

[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.

[notbecauseofvictories]

Just saw your post about graphic novels that intrigued you and it intrigued me too. Would you mind sharing which graphic novels have you read that you'd recommend or that affected you in interesting ways? Thank you!

When it comes to graphic novels, I tend to prefer the slightly idiosyncratic, and definitely adult. While I did like The Night Eaters, and Something Is Killing the Children (my first experience really dipping my toe in...) I learned very quickly that (a) I can't do anything with even a whiff of YA, and (b) series are not my forte. But that's okay, because this space also has a lot of artists writing and illustrating for adults, really putting the "novel" in "graphic novel."

I've talked before about Junji Ito and Alison Bechdel, so I won't repeat myself---though I do still love Bechdel's work with the unspoken, prickly edges of things; I think very fondly of that weekend I spent reading badly-translated jpegs of Ito's work, the sense of destabilization and disorientation it left me with.

A list of some other works that stand out, in no particular order:

The Third Person, by Emma Grove, which delves into the experience of someone with multiple identities, each with its own relationship to gender. Especially if you're about to read Catriona Ward's The Last House on Needless Street for book club, I think this should be a required pairing.

If you're looking for something that captures the mundane struggle of making a life (similar to Will McPhail’s In.) there are lots of options! I'd recommend Roaming, by Jillian and Mariko Tamaki, or maybe It's Lonely at the Centre of the Earth, by Zoe Thorogood. I think Roaming might be stronger as a narrative, but It's Lonely is an imaginal and imaginative chronicle of that struggle to make a life, make art---though it didn't work for me as a narrative, the visuals stand out to me as beautiful, surreal in exactly the way I like.

I liked The Underwater Welder, by Jeff Lemire, for very similar reasons---the bits about a son trying to grapple with the legacy his alcoholic, semi-neglectful father didn't land, but when the narrator dives deep into the bay and encounters an abandoned ghost town where his own used to be? That was haunting.

If you enjoy Bechdel and Grove's work, then Julia Wertz's Impossible People is similarly a delight, and grapples thoughtfully with the narrator's alcoholism; it just didn't quite land for me in the way I wanted it to.

(Is this where I admit that I did like Blink, by Christopher Sebela et al? It's very old school scifi and almost cinematic in its approach, makes very few apologies for it, but the art is so, so divine.)

One of the most idiosyncratic was Paying for It by Chester Brown; an illustrated manifesto about the values of paying for sex, and the lives of the sex workers the narrator encounters. Honestly the most interesting part of this one was the fact that Brown has clearly thought about this subject a lot, and talked to everyone in his life about it. Some of the afterwords aren't from him---they're from his friends, who watched this from the outside, and share their perspective on how Brown has chosen or defends his approach to sex.

The even better news is that there are lots of DIY artists in this space as well! I have my own favorites close to home, plus I bought multiple copies of the Kentucky Route Zero fanzine, and I was lucky enough to snag some of the work offered as part of the Shortbox Comics Fair.

In particular I loved Stevie B.'s Dr. Limos Plays God (I'm a sucker for a clone identity crisis!), Otava Heikkila's Home by the Rotting Sea (which has some very fun Octavia Butler echoes), Narsid's Last Crane (lovely, and quite sad), and also Ver's Sacred Bodies, which has the dubious distinction of making me think "this better not awaken anything in me" for the first time since Crimes of the Future.

All this to say...graphic novels are neat, I enjoy them, but it's a bit like watching a movie with subtitles. I mostly understand what's going on, but I think I'm missing some of the finer shades and nuances that would take my experience to the next level.