#how do people do it. how do you just exist in your body

[talaok]

But Daddy I Love Him

summary: You and Joel shouldn't be together. According to the people in Jackson, he's a bad, cruel, crazy man, and yet... he's all you ever wanted.

Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v), angst, blood, physical fight (?), happy ending (cause of course)

a/n: ive been obsessed with this song since it came out, please just go listen to it

Now I'm runnin' with my dress unbuttoned Screamin', "But, Daddy, I love him I'm havin' his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces I'm tellin' him to floor it through the fences No, I'm not coming to my senses I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want

— — —

"fuck"

"god"

His breath, his hands, his beard, his mouth, his cock

Him

He was all you could feel, he was all that existed,

nothing but him and his intoxicating aura, his manly mist, his sweaty body his strong arms,

Him

Joel Miller

The man you should not want, the man you should be terrified of, that you should run and hide from, 

the terrible, crazy, Joel Miller 

The same one everyone told you to stay away from, your friends, your family, strangers, the entirety of Jackson

And yet he was the only man you ever really wanted, really needed. 

"I missed you so much"

Even your own voice was nothing, it was a phantom of something that existed long ago, something that stopped living every time he was near, every time he would make everything dissipate into thin air with just his presence.

"I missed you too baby girl" he grunted,

oh how he grunts, how he groans, how he moans

nobody does it like him

"missed you so fucking much darlin'"

His voice felt like a prayer, like a sweet invocation to the sky up above, to whomever would listen,

one that countered completely what he was doing, the nothing but sinful way he had you up against the wall, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust his cock in and out of you so fast you might just break.

The bed was right beside you, but that didn't matter, that's how you were

You and Joel, 

like animals, like soulmates, like desperate, desperate lovers

Your minds didn't work the same when you were near, they didn't work at all, one could argue

But isn't that was love is after all?

"oh my god" you moaned, hiding your head in the crook of his neck as one particular deep thrust made you see stars

"I know darlin'" he cooed, only going faster, deeper "I know"

"Joel" you cried, biting down on his skin "f-fuck"

It had only been two weeks since you last saw each other, but it might as well been decades.

They had sent him away.

Nobody liked him in Jackson, not once they'd learned his story, the terrible things he'd done

And when they found out about you... not even his own brother could protect him.

So they'd exiled him. 

But they couldn't keep him away forever, not when he had something to come back for.

"god fuckin' damnit babygirl- you feel so fuckin' good"

Your moans only got higher, your nails clinging to his back like a rabid cat.

"perfect lil' pussy" he growled, his hot breath on your sweaty neck pulling shivers from your body "Perfect fuckin' girl"

"oh fuck" you whined, tightening your legs' hold onto his waist 

"you feel so good too Joel" you promised, breathing heavily in synch with him "You and your perfect cock"

He groaned so loud he sounded like an animal

"might want to keep that pretty mouth shut if you want this to last, sugar"

You didn't know where you found the strength to laugh, but you did

"you're gonna come too soon, old man?"

His hold on your waist pulled you even closer, as you raised your head to look him in the eyes

God, he was handsome

"just might, if you keep saying stuff like that"

but before you could tell him how it wasn't fair, how he did it all the time and you couldn't do it even once, his thumb was on your clit and your eyes were to the back of your head.

"no" he stopped you before you could hide your face from him again "I want to see you"

And as warmth filled your chest and your forehead fell to his and pressure built in your belly, he murmured:

"good girl- come for me, just like that- Jesus Christ-"

And so you did,

You came and moaned and cried, and it didn't take much before he was doing the same, pumping you full of him until he'd given you every single drop.

And then you kissed, he kissed you slowly and gently and in the same exact way that made you fall for him the very first time.

"god I missed you so much" he breathed once you leaned away

A smile from ear to ear took over your face and all you could do was kiss him again

"me too baby" you murmured, as he helped you to your feet

You both smiled like silly idiots as you dressed again,

but neither of you could resist being in each other's arms, so you didn't.

He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head once you rested it on his still bare chest.

You didn't get how anyone could hate him,

You swore they wouldn't, they wouldn't if they only got to meet him, the real him, not the idea of him they had painted in their minds.

And so you hummed, breathing him in, clinging to him as he clung to you

Up until the very moment it all went to shit

Again.

"hey honey I just got back I-"

It was sad really, the fact you'd seen this scene before.

The disappointment in your dad's eyes, the fear turning into primal rage inside his iris, his fists tightening, Joel taking a step back

A deja-vu had never felt quite so devastating

"Arthur" Joel tried to speak, but your dad was already on him, his fist had already connected with his cheek

"What did I tell you!?" another punch "Last time was just a fucking warning!" and another

Joel was on the ground

He wasn't going to fight back.

This wasn't how he wanted to handle things

Not this time

Not with you

"I'll kill you this time you fucking disgusting pervert!" you swore you heard Joel's cheekbone crack with another hit "How dare you!?" your dad growled, Joel's bloody face beneath him "In my own home- how dare you take advantage of my daughter you fucking- pig!"

Your eyes were overflowing with tears, the top buttons of your dress were still unbuttoned, and Joel's chest was rising and falling too slowly, much too slowly

"dad"

But he kept going

"dad stop!"

you grabbed his wrist, and the moment his eyes met yours it felt like the word stopped, like it had frozen over.

You caused all that anger, all that pain

But if he just would listen to you...

"y/n"

"dad" your voice trembled as much as your fingers "dad I love him"

You saw his heart break. For all the wrong reasons,

for his poor daughter who was taken advantage of, for the naive, innocent daughter he couldn't protect. For the daughter that didn't exist. Because that wasn't you, that wasn't how things had gone.

"you don't know what you're saying"

His voice was harsh, cruel, cold.

"But I do!" tears ran down your cheeks as you glanced down to where Joel lay, to the cuts and blood coating his face "I love him dad, I really really do"

"You don't know who this man is" he said "The things he's done..." he said with a snarl, as if disgusted, as if the rage was surging from his chest all over again

"I know" you whispered "I know everything- He told me all of it dad, please" you begged "Please just let him go, let him talk"

"I don't need to listen to a word that comes out of this fucker's mouth"

"but dad-"

It was like a bomb went off

"HE'S 56!" he yelled, his grip on Joel's neck tightening "he's fifty fucking six y/n! You just fucking turned 21!" his voice bounced off the walls like thunder, "You're not even half his age!"

"who cares!?" you screamed too now, only your voice was interrupted by sobs 

"I DO!" he roared "Your mom would!" his eyes were wide with urgency, and although he was mad you could still hear the care behind his words "He might have made you think this is ok, that he loves you, but trust me none of it is true" he sighed "He's using you honey, I know it's hard to understand right now, but you- you're young- you don't know-"

Your hand left him, shaking as it went to wipe your tears.

"dad" you said more firmly now "I might be young but I'm not stupid"

"y/n-"

"no" you stopped him "Dad this is the first time I've ever felt this way, like I cannot breathe when he's not close, like I need him more than I need air" you swallowed thickly "And I know- I know it's hard to understand, I know it's easier to just go with the narrative in your head, of the fragile little girl and the big creepy guy, but this-" you took a shaky breath as you glanced at Joel again

His eyes were barely open, he was barely conscious

"This isn't like that" you promised "I- I love him, and he loves me"

"Honey-"

"I'm not done" you stopped him again "I'll never forgive you dad" you shook your head, simply stating the truth "I'll never forgive you if you do this, if you don't even give him a chance to explain, to tell you how things really are"

You saw the conflict in his eyes, the searing pain caused him to hear such words from his daughter, to hear her beg and threaten and speak up all at once,

and yet... yet he couldn't shake off the honesty, the hope lacing your words, your voice, sparkling from your eyes

And so he did the only thing he could,

he agreed, he agreed to hear the full story.

___

That was two years ago now,

and sometimes you wondered if it all was just a bad dream, if your imagination had tricked you into believing some silly made-up story,

but the glares from the people in town always seemed to refresh your memory.

And yes, maybe you would have liked to live a life without people whispering ugly things about you behind your back every day... but then maybe, maybe it was all worth it

For this.

For the child growing in your belly, for the veil on top of your head, for the sound of your dad stifling his sobs beside you, 

for the image of Joel waiting for you at the end of the aisle, for the tears in his eyes, for the smile on his face,

for him, 

for you,

It was all worth it,

Yes, yes it definitely was.

— — —

Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady And, oh, my God, you should see your faces Time, doesn't it give some perspective? And, no, you can't come to the wedding I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #joel miller x fem reader #but daddy i love him #taylor swift

[elodieunderglass]

Honestly thought I'd never hear the word "usborne" again. My mom used to live and breathe that company, and while I certainly don't regret a fair chunk, I do find it amusing as I look back now. I legitimately thought it had fallen off faster than Juice+.

In reference to a post where i mention my kid has the usborne “see inside germs” book.

So if people don’t know, usborne is a weird publishing company that has done indispensable books for British children for generations; they’re in every library, school and nursery, and have shelves devoted to them in every bookstore. They are how many people learned to read, and are the originators of many hyper focuses. They’re famed for doing educational lift the flap books for all ages, like “see inside your body”, as well as as the ubiquitous touch-and-feel series, “that’s not my….” In which a mouse comments improbably on various creatures not being their creature. “That’s not my dragon,” the mouse says, inviting you to stroke a dragon with a patch of fur on it, “its tummy is too soft. That’s not my dragon,” on the next page, where the dragon’s ears are lined with textured paper, “its ears are too bumpy.” This seems like such an inefficient way to find one’s missing dragon, a fact that simmers underneath you through endless repetition. Why does the mouse own so many things (pirates, ducks, polar bears) and why is it interrogating other people’s pirates etc by feeling their legs.

At any rate, turn a parents’ house upside down and these books fall out.

Which is why it’s completely hilarious that they are also an MLM.

Well. Kind of. In the old school sense. It’s less about signing up a pyramid scheme and more about getting a random citizen to buy a crate of perfectly popular books and try to sell them on from their home. It’s very traditional for Mums On Maternity Leave to do this. Pre-social media and online ordering, they’d hook up other mums at toddler group. Today, they post awkwardly on social media. The idea is that buying from another parent is cheaper than the bookstore, and they get to keep the markup. They get intense about things, and I believe they attend conferences. Nobody makes a huge amount of money and it’s unclear how undercutting local bookstores is helpful; it’s also basically the same RRP as Amazon I think.

And the books are perfectly respectable and sell perfectly well in bookstores.

So. Like. This marketing scheme is completely weird. Why?? Why does it still exist? People buy the books normally! You don’t need to promote them aggressively! You don’t need elaborate independent local middlemen schemes! You can just buy them! I have never understood this. I just file it under one of those weird mat leave hustles.

But don’t worry OP. They’re still going. They’ll never stop. The thing is that your mom got bored and online sales probably ate whatever residual profit margins were left and it’s probably very liberating for everyone to grow out of the “that’s not my cow” stage, but Usborne books are going strong.

[lyvhie]

a different kind of exercise | ljn

personal trainer!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: he just wanted to give you a private lesson.

a/n: sorry, that didn't go well as i wanted, but i didn't have anything planned for his bday and this ended up coming out 😭 i didn't like that one, but happy bday to jeno!

cw: smut, pwp, unprotected sex, petnames (baby/pretty)

jeno was not planning on this. yet he was glad it happened.

when he accepted to be your personal trainer, he didn't think much about it. you seemed like a genuine newbie in the gym, seeking legitimate help. unlike other people, you hadn't chosen him just because of his good looks, he could see that you actually wanted to learn.

he wasn't expecting much to come from your time together aside from some casual conversation during workouts and the occasional advice about exercising, but he found himself growing more interested in you than his purpose of teaching.

he didn't know why exactly, but he felt an attraction to you that he couldn't explain. sometimes he would even find himself acting like a pervert. and he knew that was wrong, but it was all somehow your fault.

he would often blame you for wearing those tight leggings that gripped onto your body like a second skin. he knew it wasn't fair to blame you for their existence, but he also couldn't help but be distracted by their form-fittedness.

but he was glad you wore them. he loved it when you folded forward, giving him a great view of your ass. he would make up some excuse about you doing it wrong just to get closer and hold your waist. he would press you against him and lean over you, telling you "how it should be done," while enjoying the feel of your body pressed against his. he enjoyed taking his time to "help you do it right" so that he could spend more time up close with your ass rubbing against his cock.

or when he is "helping you out" by adjusting your position and form while doing an exercise. he knew that wasn't necessary, but he used the excuse of "straightening you up" to sneak his hands around you. he would grab a handful of your breasts, pretending to position you properly to do the exercise but actually taking the chance to feel you up.

jeno would often find excuses to get close to you, brushing up against you or putting his hands on your body more often than necessary, always trying to touch you in subtle ways that he hoped you wouldn't notice.

and that was the best—or worst—part of it all. you were completely clueless about his actions, genuinely thinking it was just his way of teaching. honestly, it wasn't bothering you at all. in fact, you even secretly enjoyed it when he was "just teaching you" and getting a bit too close for comfort by holding you up and touching your body.

but still, for jeno, this was pure agony too. all he craved was to fuck you senseless until you were practically limping, but he couldn't just spit it out. ever since your sessions began, he caught himself fucking his fist at night thinking about you, he'd daydream about pounding into you, making you yell his name 'til you were hoarse.

gosh, he needed you so bad.

and so he made it.

it was easier than he thought. all he had to do was come with an excuse to get you to his house. saying he needed to "go over some information" about your exercises and "get more in-depth" with your routine, he asked you to come over to his place to "work through the details" of your activities.

he can't really remember how things escalated from telling you to make yourself comfortable to him pressing you up against the bed mattress with your legs around his waist while you cry out his name because of how good it feels to have his cock stretching your tight pussy.

“you feel so—god, so f-fucking good,” jeno’s hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts deeper into you, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing second. your hands were gripping the sheet so tightly that your knuckles were white, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“y-you're so tight, baby,” he looked down to see where your bodies connected, watching as his length disappeared into your welcoming pussy.

"fuck, y/n... you take me so well,” he breathes heavily, trying to maintain control as you clench around him. "i could stay here forever,” his cock slamming into you with such force that you could feel it in your bones.

the sensation of him filling you up completely is almost too much to bear, but you wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world right now.

jeno feels your body tensing up and your warm walls squeezing him again, making him groan. “are you close, pretty?” the only answer for his question were your loud moan and it was enough for him.

you gasp when he suddenly changes your position, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder and driving himself even deeper inside of you. the new angle hits all the right spots, and you feel yourself being stretched to the limit, even more sensitive as his hand slip down to rub your clit.

you starts to feel an orgasm building inside of you, which made you let a whine escape your lips. you didn't want this moment to end, but you know it's going to be explosive when it finally does. you focus on the sensation of him filling you up, on the sound of your bodies slapping together, and on the scent of sex in the air. it's a heady combination that sends you over the edge, you body shuddering and convulsing beneath his as you milk his cock.

jeno himself couldn’t hold back his own climax any longer, the way your face contorts in pure bliss as you come undone beneath him sends him over the edge. feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer, his thrusts became a little more messy, but still at the same pace. it felt so good he almost forgot to pull out, withdrawing just in time to cum on your thigh, his hot load sticking to your skin.

he falls onto the bed next to you, the only sound now is your heavy breathing as you both try to compose yourself. you continue to silently stare at the ceiling for a few more minutes before turning your head to look at him, just to find him already looking at you.

“so…” you begin. “same time next week?”

#jeno x reader #jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader

[helly-watermelonsmellinfellon]

There's something I don't see talked about enough in the SVSSS fandom.

The System.

I just received a comment on one of my fics - which has post-canon SQQ and SQH able to still use social media - suggesting that it would be very easy for people in the real world to point out that these characters using fake accounts to post on real life social media sites would easily be doxxed and the System would have no ability to do anything about that.

Something I have noticed among a lot of people who read this particular book is that not a lot of consideration is given to the very thing orchestrating everything. We often think of the system as a ridiculous guide or rule book that exists solely to give the protagonist what he wants/deserves. We don't really approach it for what it is.

This was my reply to that comment:

Doubt it. The System is able to kidnap people from their worlds and place them in other worlds and bodies in those worlds as punishment. And if you don't do as it wants, to the specification it doesn't directly detail, it can send your soul to an alternate version of the present world to be tortured in another body. I sincerely doubt an abstract, otherworldly being like that, which never receives consequences for anything it does because there is apparently nothing that can canonically challenge it, is going to be threatened by doxxing. If it can create things, link universes together, steal souls, and can be anywhere at any time, I wouldn't expect it to be incapable of manipulating people's perception. I even mentioned how in this fic, it WILL erase SQQ's sister's memories if he chooses to reveal his identity to her, but it becomes too much for her to handle. This suggests it has power anywhere and can do whatever it wants. So, in my mind, if someone actually tried to doxx their accounts, it's either going to lead nowhere, lead to somewhere fake, or the info will be stripped from their lives entirely the moment they find anything/nothing.

It was a very nitpicky kind of comment in my opinion, which warranted this response, but my response just made me realize that the System is effectively an amortal, omnipresent, and omnipotent Entity. It literally doesn't go away. We even think it's over and the Extras tell us, via SQH, that it's still there and still in control.

Think about it.

Think about every single thing that happened because of the System's actions or demands. It literally never faces consequences because there is nothing that could hope to punish it. I've only read 1 fic where higher beings step in to punish the System for kidnapping, coercing, and torturing innocent people for its amusement.

Because that IS something it can do. With ease. And seems all too happy to do.

The System is very dangerous and it's weird how this is something people forget when reading fanfics. SVSSS is the kind of book where crack ideas can work in the frame of the canon story because a character like SQH exists. Because he wrote PIDW with every single plothole and contrived story beat for the sake of money and survival, we can have the weirdest shit happen and blame it on his lack of imagination when writing PIDW. It doesn't need in-depth nitpicking to make it make sense. MXTX gave us a very large and generous sandbox to play in.

You don't need to rationalize a crack plot. And you should always keep in mind that canonically, the System is a terrifying Entity capable of outrageous things. It shouldn't be the deal-breaker that the Entity that kidnaps, gaslights, coerces, tortures, and manipulates people is capable of fantastical feats in a fanfic.

#svsss #bingqiu #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua

[ybklix]

𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 ♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ₊⊹

CRY BABY .♡⊹ (( bang chan)) mdni

Chapters:

1: cry baby ((wc: 4.1k))

2: dollhouse ((wc: 3k))

ONE: cry baby.

you're all on your own and you lost all your friends, you told yourself that it's not you, it's them ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

It didn't matter how long the journey had been; when it came to reaching his hometown, fatigue and jet lag ceased to exist for Chris once his body felt the air of Australia. He had arrived at a wonderful time, with time to arrange things in his new home and visit his girlfriend.

Chris picked up his phone and sent a text to his girlfriend letting her know he had arrived and that he'd pick her up after work. There were still a couple of hours left, so he decided to order a taxi to take him to his new home. He had planned his stay in Sydney carefully and thoughtfully, considering every angle. It favored him quite a bit; his girlfriend of two and a half years lived here, he could continue working from the comfort of home, and he could pick up extra jobs that he didn't completely dislike. Indeed, for Chris, working hard and keeping his mind occupied was always better.

Everything was going quite perfectly that he couldn't help but smile. He bought his dream house a couple of months ago and had since begun his official move, moving his entire life from Seoul to Sydney. Returning, for him, was something he hadn't expected. He found it almost funny that after all his effort, he returned to where it all began, where everything started as a simple dream. But all his sacrifice had yielded excellent results since he had a steady job and stability, doing what he loved most, writing and producing music. When he announced he had to leave, his colleagues almost tried to stop him. He was quite successful and famous as a producer, but they understood that he could continue working, just not in that distant country anymore.

Chris looked at the beautiful landscapes the city offered through the taxi window. He was so excited that once he spent the afternoon with his partner, he would consider immediately go to visit his family. A long day awaited him, but he knew it would be worth it.

Buying a house in a neighborhood like this, spectacular in every aspect, suitable for childless couples, professionals, and simply for families, whose children rarely went out to play and make noise, and for retired elderly people living alone, was just what he needed, a large space just for him, even though it wasn't part of his plan; but suddenly a change in his life and routine sounded so good. Chris didn't know exactly why a house and not an apartment, to start with, as he had in Seoul; not even his own father understood it, Chris just excused himself saying he needed to own a more spacious place where noise could easily be canceled out, for the construction of his own recording studio... but inside him, perhaps there was a certain instinct that he wanted to start a family soon, he knew exactly that this wasn't his girlfriend's idea, not even as a joke, but maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny feeling like that in him.

Once entering the neighborhood, he felt the warmth of living in Australia again despite it being a slightly cool afternoon with the sun hiding behind the clouds. He never thought he would come to this place; he always believed he would live in Seoul for the rest of his life; he was so excited to start a new life but still leaving aside illusions, if something went wrong, he knew he could flee to Korea whenever he wanted... but he wasn't like that, he was never the type of guy who just run away. In fact, he thought that he left Sydney to pursue a dream, never by choice; it would be a lie to say he didn't like Seoul since it was his home for a long time... but once he could see the green grass, the well-kept roses of the people, he realized he had disconnected a bit and had lived in the noisy city long enough. This was what pleased him the most, nature, and if he wanted more buildings and noise, the city center wasn't far from his new address.

He stood there for a few seconds admiring the facade of his new home and noticed a teenage boy entering the house next door, they must be the neighbors, he thought. When he was initially given a tour of the house, as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, a woman welcomed him, told him her name but Chris didn't remember it, she mentioned that she lived with her family and other things like how much they had started to remodel and modernize that house. Still, he felt strangely safe, the distances between the houses were large enough to provide privacy, to his right was that family he supposed consisted of the teenager, and to his left was an older widow, or at least that's what the real estate agent told him.

He sighed in frustration at the sight of the pile of boxes scattered around and thought that he didn't have enough time, but fortunately, he was always prepared and a step ahead, so the interior designer would come tomorrow with her team to help her move stuff. He had to prepare as soon as possible for the start of his new job in the morning, as a professor at the university. He would teach two subjects related to music at different levels, and a few courses about Asian culture. He was nervous, but he had become a teacher in his spare time, and he felt quite prepared for whatever he might face.

He was hesitating whether to take a nap or move a few things in case Leah, his girlfriend, wanted to come; Chris ran his hand through his hair, thinking, so he opted for the second option; he cleared the living room area, tidied up, cleaned a few things, took a shower, and without thinking twice, it was time to pick up Leah.

He took the keys to his new car, really taking seriously the idea of living in Sydney and being well prepared. Ready to have a new life. He felt tense when he realized that he would be driving in Australia again and that the steering wheel was on the right side, unlike his old home where he had obtained his license from a very young age. Still, he set his GPS and left; this time, as he passed by the house next door, he now noticed it was a girl entering the house.

When he finally picked up his girlfriend, the sky was completely dark, and he noticed how tired she looked; Chris felt slightly bad and reproached himself for not thinking earlier and not bringing her a small romantic gesture of welcome, even though he was the one who had just arrived. They hadn't seen each other for a long month, he missed his girlfriend so much that it almost physically hurt not to be with her. A few seconds later, Leah's expression softened, and her serious demeanor turned into a warm smile.

—Channie —she called him affectionately by his Korean nickname, almost in a sigh, and extended her arms.

Finally, they hugged for just the right amount of time and exchanged a tender kiss. He had met her almost three years ago in Seoul; she worked in advertising for a magazine and was somewhat related to the entertainment world, so her social circle was so similar to Chris's; like him, Leah had grown up in Australia with Korean parents, the only difference being that she did have her whole life back in Oceania; still, he was captivated by her at that party, she was only two years younger than him, Leah at that time was just a beginner still in college on a trip in Seoul with her other circle of friends, and he was a recent graduate with a special gift. Despite the differences, they decided to give it a try, leading them to a long-distance relationship for just over two years, but it didn't matter now, at least not anymore for him; right now, he was with her, and he could have her whenever he wanted.

Chris, or Chan to her, caressed his girlfriend's face as he gave her a gentle kiss, breathing in her perfume one last time before pulling away and lowering his hand to her bare thigh with a smile.

—Do you want to go out to eat? Should we go somewhere...? —he spoke.

—Mm, let's order food and you can show me your house.

—It's still a bit of a mess —he warned.

Chris let out a small laugh and did exactly as Leah had suggested. She had been inside the house before, but she was always surprised at how well laid out it was in terms of space and design. He found her reaction endearing and with a smile on his face, he thought about how all of this might one day belong to her too. They both headed to eat at the small and only nightstand table in his TV room; some larger items were arriving tomorrow, so for now, that was what they could improvise with. As they ate, Leah kept talking about how stuff should be arranged to create harmony and coherence in the house. Chris listened attentively and lovingly; they talked about their respective jobs and what awaited them.

After sitting in silence and letting the food settle for a while, Leah spoke.

—Is your room upstairs...

Chris turned to look at her; not seeing her for a long time suddenly had a quick effect on him, and from one second to the next, he found her ten times more attractive.

—Yeah, do you want to give it your approval? —he replied playfully, hoping this would lead to something else.

Chris looked at her profile for a few seconds before she turned and gave him a teasing smile in response. He examined her, from her smooth, slightly upturned nose and her legs barely exposed by the skirt, to her shiny, loose silk blouse. Suddenly, every detail of her drove him crazy and made him feel like a hormonal teenager. He wanted to fuck her right there, right now.

He felt that her mischievous smile and soft gaze were enough signals for him, so he dangerously leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He started slow and passionate, his right hand traveling up to the hem of her skirt, playing with the thin seam, unsure whether to slide his hand gently between her thighs or do it quickly in one swift motion, while the other hand firmly held her waist. Chris was gradually losing himself, his tongue slipping in, giving her a bolder, dirtier kiss; however, after a torturous session of just wet and hot kisses, Leah squirmed out of his grasp and pulled away from him slowly.

Chris looked confused, but his girlfriend's expression only worried him. With her pink, swollen lips, Leah suddenly seemed shy, with her eyes cast down. In seconds, Chris realized that maybe it was just something she didn't feel like doing right now, and he respected that... but it still seemed quite strange to him. Had she pushed him away? Since when did she reject him? Every time they saw each other, because of their painful long-distance relationship, the most intense and pleasurable sex awaited them.

Chris wanted to believe that maybe it wasn't the best situation for her, tired in her work clothes after a long day.

—It's a bit late... and we both have to work tomorrow —she said, raising her gaze and captivating Chris's gaze—. You'll do great, love —she smiled.

He knew her so well, he didn't understand why she suddenly gave him an awkward smile pretending to be kind... Had something bothered her, and he had no idea? He wanted to ask her so many things, but Leah stood up from her position on the floor and grabbed her bag.

—I really need to rest, and it's getting late. See you tomorrow? —she interrupted.

Chris quickly got up and gently took her waist.

—Of course, I'll drive you home.

As they got into the car, Chris looked at the completely quiet street, with no noise, the houses perfectly illuminated, there was no one outside except for the two of them and the mysterious girl next door coming out of her house with the cold wind blowing her hair.

During the drive, Leah became herself again, outgoing and energetic. She told her boyfriend how they should spend the short break he had as teachers in September; he just thought about how grateful he was to have a sweet moment with her and looked at her with tenderness when the traffic lights indicated he should stop... yet, he was a little hurt, deep down, slightly bruising his pride as a man that he didn't get any physical intimacy from his girlfriend that night... he had waited so long, he thought he could reward her, and when his house is no longer a mess, he would make sure to satisfy her and shower her with gifts.

—I'll see you tomorrow, Chan —she leaned in, giving him a quick goodbye kiss—. Call me.

Again, for the third time that day, she felt strange to him. It was obvious she wouldn't be the same young woman she used to be, capable of throwing a party every time they saw each other... but he felt there was something about her that she had to tell him as soon as possible, or he would go crazy. It wasn't surprising, Chris was an intense guy.

Once he returned home, he threw the keys with fury... he had tried to keep his sanity, but the more he overthought it on the way back home, the less sense it made to him. She didn't anger him, never could he be angry with her, it just, maybe, he thought, it was about him.

He went up to his room, in one swift movement he took off his shirt, feeling the cold air seeping through the small opening in his window. He checked the time on his phone, 11:43 p.m., he needed to rest, to take a shower in the morning and start his day... but he could only think about the romantic date options he could do on a simple Monday.

As he took a few steps towards his bed, approaching it, he noticed through his window how a faint, warm light, not so noticeable, managed to penetrate into his dark room. He turned his body and cursed for not remembering to put up curtains before; for a moment, he felt sorry for not realizing that significant detail, he was so used to the large windows in his old apartment in Seoul restricting the view. It was obvious that there was another room, right next to his.

Chris didn't want to pay attention, but catching the subtle silhouette of a girl sitting by his window captivated him inconsistently. She was wearing a thin white tank top despite the cold weather. He thought about how warm her room looked while giving it a quick inspection. The girl had her face buried in her naked knees, and her loose hair covered her face; her arms embraced her legs. Suddenly, she pushed her hair behind her ears, revealing just her profile. Yet it wasn't hard for Chris to see that she was crying. Her cheek was shining, wet, and he could see the small tears sliding down.

The girl by the window began to sob, causing her back and chest to contract. Chris suddenly didn't want to watch; he felt like he was invading her privacy and pain. But somehow, he couldn't stop watching her; he was so dismayed, but he was more bothered by the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

He had no idea how long he had been watching her... but somehow, deep down, he thought, in the most hidden part of himself, that she looked strangely beautiful crying. The large rectangular window frame captured that girl with glowing cheeks and slightly messy hair, crying in what seemed to be a corner with books and a seat by the window.

The girl by the window closed her eyes tightly and slowly lay down, facing away from Chris's window, ending the performance completely. Finally, he reacted; she was still sobbing, her back moving uncontrollably, but it was harder to see her now.

Chris didn't know what had come over him; he almost felt annoyed that his neighbor didn't put up her own curtains. He could see everything, from his bed, which was positioned so that it faced his room directly, to his posters on the wall, to her backpack thrown on the floor.

Chris sighed and tried not to worry about his neighbor anymore. He wanted to think it was just a young girl in the age of broken hearts and not something deeper... but she was crying with such emotion that it made his head spin. He puffed his cheeks, letting out a sigh, and, retreating to the window, he took off his pants, slipping into his sheets, making sure she wouldn't accidentally turn and see him. Unlike her room, his bed was positioned sideways, his front door facing his bed, and her room's door was on the right side of the bed. Somehow, he felt like her room was more exposed, so he would have to move to avoid causing her any discomfort.

At dawn, the light bothered him, and he prayed that the girl had her curtains closed. Otherwise, he would have to get up semi-naked, and if she saw him, she might think he was a pervert. And just for his luck, some pretty white lace curtains covered her window; Chris was able to leave freely and go to wash up, taking his clothes with just a towel covering his lower half and changing in another room.

Chris looked at himself in the mirror, wondering if his outfit was appropriate: formal pants with a black button-up shirt. He wanted to think it was the best option for winter. He adjusted his dark hair before heading downstairs for breakfast, tired of boxes everywhere; he hoped everything would be in order between today and tomorrow for a better rest.

As he left, driving his car towards the university, he saw her again, walking down the sidewalk in the same direction as him; the famous girl who had been crying by her window, his neighbor, wearing blue jeans, white ankle boots, and a thin pale pink sweater. He saw her so fleetingly that he only saw her profile once again and noticed her backpack slung across her body.

And then she saw him too, just in a quick glance, driving his car, dressed all in black. She hadn't seen him completely, they hadn't even introduced themselves, but her mother confirmed it, he's a very handsome young man, he lives alone, and he bought the property outright, he must have a lot of money. His name is Christopher.

She had seen him at least twice, an embarrassing encounter in the morning when she tried to open her curtains just before leaving home, as she always did, but found his broad back naked, wearing only a towel while holding his clothes; Celeste immediately slid the curtain with embarrassment and just left her room. She hated to admit her mother was right, but the short two seconds she saw of his build weren't bad at all. And the second time was just moments ago as she headed to the university.

So that's her new neighbor, a man who emerged out of nowhere, bought that modernized house that had been empty for so long. She was so used to there being no one next to her room, now she had to be careful of walking around wearing with what she’s comfortable with.

Celeste took a couple of buses and one more subway line to reach her campus, where the first classes went by normally, and it wasn’t until brunch when the only person she talked to approached her.

—Celeste —he said to her.

She looked up from her food, observed him, gave him a smile, and invited him to sit with her gaze.

—I heard we’re finally getting a music teacher —he said again.

—Wow, it’s about time, it’s been a week —she replied.

The guy smiled at Celeste and took one of her fries.

—There’s going to be an art exhibition, you should come —he suggested.

—When? —she asked.

—Friday at 7.

Celeste raised her eyes, thinking if she had to work that day and concluded that if she asked for the day off they’d give it to her since she worked a week with no days off, she could perfectly go see Hyunjin’s exhibition.

It wasn’t new for Celeste to be somewhat… strange. She didn’t know how to explain it, but little by little, she distanced herself from all the people she once spoke comfortably with, and surprisingly, the handsome exchange student was the only one who talked to her. He was two years older than her and was studying visual arts, yet he decided to take music courses, and that’s where they met.

—I’ll be there —Celeste replied, checking the time on her phone—. We still have about 20 minutes ‘till class —she added.

Hyunjin smiled at her; he was quite handsome and popular, so a part of Celeste wants to feel human and like him like most do, if she paid proper attention to him... she could develop feelings for him, she hated the feeling part, and that feelings lead her to false illusions but she felt that in her dull life she needed to at least, have a little crush on someone. Maybe that would help distract her.

Falling in love was something Celeste didn't know, something that was out of her hands and even something she thinks is out of her reach. It's not that she doesn't want to have attention and affection... she just gave up and decided to think that maybe life is lonely for her. Her last intimate encounter and affection for a man was when she was 13 years old at a birthday party when she was dared to kiss someone, that was her last and first kiss. The rest of her years she lived normally without the opportunity of a prospect and love... that was one of the last things she thought and cried about, truly. Love.

The depression and anxiety was diminishing her libido and she remembers that maybe the last time she masturbated out of boredom was a year ago.

But Hyunjin... Celeste thought about whether she should like him, whether she should bring excitement into her life for the first time in twenty years.

She was an interesting and pretty girl, shy, but lonely, she isolated herself too much and lived absorbing the pain and problems of her surroundings; her issue was that she felt too much that sometimes she would go into a kind of self-control, on automatic, off without feeling anything, until she overloaded herself and exploded, it was always the same with her and she felt pathetic that she could never change. Her behavior led her to pull away from everyone... wondering why they didn't come back to her, maybe it's them, not me, she thought constantly.

Celeste watched Hyunjin closely as they talked for 10 minutes and the next 10 they used it to walk to the classroom. She was quite observant and took it upon herself to memorize every detail about him, his full lips, his eyelids hiding in his sharp brown eyes, the almost invisible mole under his eye, thick dark eyebrows, long hair and big hands, come on Celeste, feel something, she thought.

She wanted to bang her head against the wall, only then did she think she would come to her senses to feel something for someone as attractive as Hyunjin, besides he was an artist and the only person nice to her... she felt like a heartless bitch.

Arriving at the classroom, Hyunjin and Celeste sat together and the teacher was already inside as well. She spotted his silhouette as she passed, but saw him completely once again looked up at him... suddenly he seemed so similar, those broad shoulders and all black clothes, she shouldn't have been excited, but something small grew inside her, perhaps the intrigue that maybe her teacher is also her new neighbor? Suddenly the big city she always grew up in seemed small to her with such a coincidence.

Celeste was at least ninety percent sure it was him, she watched him a minute longer and as she felt their gazes cross, she turned to Hyunjin, embarrassed. Class started two minutes later and he finally introduced himself.

—I am Christopher Bang. Sorry for the delay of the subject by a week.

TWO: dollhouse.

places, places, get in your places, throw on your dress and put on your doll faces. everyone thinks that we're perfect, please don't let them look through the curtains ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Celeste had lived in that house her whole life. It was only when she turned 18 and graduated that she managed to leave for a year and breathe… but due to economic reasons, she had to return. It's not that she wasn't grateful… she just needed a break from what her family could sometimes be.

Her father was an accountant who worked hard to provide his children with a home in what was considered one of the best neighborhoods in the city. At least she agreed that he did the right thing in that regard. However, he was insolent, dishonest, and unfaithful. She discovered her father's infidelity when she was only eleven years old, one June night when her father probably thought the house was completely empty since her mother usually took them —her younger brother and her— to visit their aunt… but that day was different, one of those when Celeste's puberty rebellion hit, and she refused to go with them. So, she wanted to stay in her room… until she saw them, him and his lover entering the house. She was so surprised, scared, and overwhelmed with emotions that she didn't know what to do, so she pretended not to be there. Overnight, her innocence was gone in an unpleasant way.

She couldn't live with the guilt, so a year later, she confessed it to her mother. Celeste already knew the gravity of the situation by then and had considered a million options that could happen: her mother going crazy, even blaming her daughter for not telling her, or a calm and depressive reaction… but in all scenarios, Celeste maturely considered divorce as a good option. She felt that she was no longer a child, she could live with it; after all, she had discovered that her father was not a good person and that her mother could take care of them. The only concern of poor twelve-year-old Celeste was her younger brother, who at the age of eight, for them, everything seemed like a fairytale, and having both parents was part of their fantasy world. She hated that she cared and loved him… but she was sure that the little one could overcome a divorce. She didn't want to be there anymore; she couldn't even look at her father in the eyes, she was always avoiding any encounter with him.

But her mother's reaction to the truth was… something different from the expected options. Even after years had passed, it still seemed so strange to her. They were there, sitting in the dining room, and it was three days after Celeste turned 12, on a rainy day in July when Celeste got tired of crying and wondering every night why… her birthday celebration made her angry; she didn't feel so sad and dejected anymore. She hated the way her father pretended to love her and everything was fine, the way he played with her brother and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, she couldn't stand it anymore, so she told her mother. That time she had murmured an oh, and stared fixedly at a fixed point.

“I know, because I saw them,” Celeste said before her mother even asked anything else, but she didn't, she didn't do anything and was shocked. During the night, it was as if nothing had happened, and she served dinner… that wasn't what she expected, she wanted a scene and chaos; she wanted there to be shouts, but somehow she was grateful that there was no such behavior because of Celeste's little brother. But she was blinded by hatred and remorse towards her father.

The next day she remembers that she reproached her mother, shouting, “won't you do anything?”. She didn't answer. After that, she felt so cold and distant, her father was becoming more and more obvious with his affairs, the smell of a perfume that wasn't his wife's, spontaneous outings, and even nights without returning home.

Celeste couldn't stand pretending to be okay, and two months later, after seeing how her mother deteriorated and faded more and more, she walked to her father's small office in the house, being completely a mess, and told him the truth. “I know you have another woman, maybe mom wants to keep pretending with you but I can't.”

She remembered her father's expression, the surprise on his face and its paleness. Celeste didn't expect a response from him, so she was about to leave, but back then her father acted quickly, getting up from his chair and questioning her. “I saw you, don't try to deny it.”

The following years were him trying to fix it and build a bond with her but it was in vain; suddenly her little brother wondered why his father was too lenient with his sister. Celeste lived through her remaining teenage years trying to be someone normal until she finally got lost in music; she didn't want to spend time at home so she tried to enroll in all the extracurricular courses at her school that didn't involve physical effort like sports. Months later after her horrible confrontation, she found a passion for the piano, all her following school years were based on music, being in recitals whose events she never invited either of her parents to, playing for the drama club, being in the literature club, debate club, creative writing club… until she enrolled in her chosen university dedicated to that one thing she was passionate about.

At first, she knew she would annoy her parents with her career choice, but it was the perfect time to blackmail her father to pay for her institution. She wasn't anywhere near forgiving him, but the psychological damage somehow had a price: getting out of that house. Celeste had a busy life, after rehearsals, she started having part-time jobs since she was sixteen with the dream of living in her own space near the university.

She was so busy, she would come home around 10 or 11 at night and what she found at home was devastating. Her mother was a secretary who became a housewife after her second child was born, a boy named Blake. She dedicated 12 years to taking care of her children until she found out about her husband's infidelity. Cecille gradually became an alcoholic.

Celeste had to see it every night when she came home from work. Her wasted mother lying on the couch with the TV on and a strong smell of alcohol. Celeste had tried everything, her aunt's intervention, enrolling her in support groups, but her mother didn't seem to cooperate.

When she turned fifteen, she begged her father to divorce her mother, but she refused to accept it.

Every now and then she had to go check on her brother, to make sure he didn't turn into a complete idiot like his father, or simply into a bad person, related to what was he seeing at home. But even in that, both dysfunctional parents were lucky, Blake was a shy boy, four years younger than Celeste, who grew up with a passion for physics and mathematics; unlike her, he did go out in the afternoons with his friends and lived a life outside of his home. He didn't care how bad things were, as long as he had somewhere to live and his own space he was more than okay, even when he was fourteen he managed to steal alcohol from his mother to go try it at a friend's house later, not everything had to be so bad, or at least that's what he thought… sometimes Celeste wanted to be like him and try not to worry too much. Little by little, both of them grew up without showing affection, Celeste thought that maybe that's why it wasn't something she sought in other people, her perception of love and respect had been so damaged since she was young but she couldn't accept it. She never felt anything when she saw her classmates holding hands, seeing the cheesy actions of strangers showing affection, a hug was something she only remembered fleetingly from her childhood.

When she finally turned eighteen, she found a roommate and rented a dorm room on campus; that place wasn't her dream, the floor was noisy, full of extroverted theater kids, but it was all she had. She had lived like that for a whole year, with no communication to her parents, working and studying at the same time, only communicating with her brother to wish him Merry Christmas and New Year, and in May, to wish him a happy birthday. It all fell apart in her second year of school when her roommate told her she was moving out and Celeste couldn't afford the full expense, she already had an academic scholarship and her parents were still paying for her institution.

Celeste did it, she called her brother on a normal day that wasn't a holiday, her little brother advised her that she could go back home, that's what he would do when he entered college, since it would only take him routes and buses to get there. “I'll let mom and dad know,” he told her over the phone before abruptly hanging up. Celeste couldn't answer, she couldn't say don't do it. And she insisted by text that she would manage on her own. That day her heart broke when she read the text from her fifteen-year-old brother saying: why do you hate them? come back home for me the uni is literally half an hour away from home

She had no choice, she had everything, she wouldn't pay rent, her payment at the university would continue, she would only work to buy her own things and take care of Blake. She never thought he would feel abandoned. She thought about how much it must have sucked to come home alone, with an absent father and an alcoholic mother.

When she told her roommate that she would return to her home in Woollahra, her expression was incredulous, “you've been living there all this time? Why would you want to live in an uncomfortable dorm?”. Celeste wondered if she was being ungrateful.

And then she returned, her father couldn't be happier, and even her mother's dull face lit up at having her only daughter back. She would go back to being the same, practically just going home to sleep.

If she had everything… why did she feel so empty. Her room was still the same as they had decorated it since she was eight, covered in pale pink and white shades. The years passed and she continued to support her brother, going to academic competitions he attended, and for the first time, she asked him to come see her perform at a recital in her university's auditorium.

And so her life remained, until now that she felt stuck once again, in her third year of university. She felt like she was repeating her high school years and it was suffocating her. If she could leave with Blake she would, but she was just a simple university student with anxiety attacks in the school bathrooms.

—You should ask the new guy next door if he has a girlfriend, seriously, he's cute, Celeste. You've never had a boyfriend, right? —her mother mentioned, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Celeste looked at her incredulously, wondering since when her private life mattered to her, and if she had a boyfriend, it wouldn't be something she'd inform her about. She was about to leave for university, she didn't want those kinds of conversations at 7 in the morning.

—Ew, isn't he like thirty? —her brother added, eating a spoonful of his cereal.

—Age can just be a number, Blakey, we want your sister to find love.

—I have to go —Celeste sighed, escaping the conversation.

She couldn't stop thinking about it. Once again, she was right, why couldn't she find love? Her only friend, whom she rarely contacted, moved in with her mother in Melbourne after finishing high school. And now socializing at university where classmates change and come and go, it was so difficult for her to establish any kind of relationship with anyone. The only person she talked to was… an exchange student who shared only one class on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Celeste couldn't help but wonder if she should start flirting with him, just to try to feel something in return.

Every time she examined him more… she realized how cute he was, should she approach him? Anyway, he would leave at the end of the semester, no one could die trying.

When they sat together in class, she couldn't help but be distracted by thoughts that tomorrow she would dress up more for Hyunjin, fix her hair more, wear more makeup… the idea of being liked by someone made her so nervous.

And when she looked up, she saw her new teacher, who she could swear was her new handsome neighbor.

As the class began, she remembered her mother's voice saying he was handsome, and without realizing it, a slight mocking smile appeared on her face as she analyzed her new teacher's appearance in detail. Slightly tanned skin, short, dark brown hair semi-wavy, his intense gaze beneath his slit eyes, prominent nose, and thick lips… and his voice was strong, commanding, and nasal, and his build was… Celeste thought… was this what imagination was like when dealing with the sudden rush of hormones?

She had the idea that maybe she wasn't the only one so surprised and delighted by the assignment of the new teacher. She discreetly turned her gaze to the sides, to her other classmates, and noticed how they looked at him intensely without taking their eyes off the man giving the class, Celeste felt foolish, had she looked so obvious? Had Hyunjin noticed?

Once the class ended, Chris said:

—Before you all leave… —he approached his desk and quickly and gently picked up a paper from his desk— Is Celeste Burton here? —he looked up searching among the students.

Celeste frowned and timidly raised her hand, Hyunjin quickly glanced at her friend and then at the teacher, it also seemed strange to him but he didn't pay attention to it; Chris finally managed to perceive her and added:

—Can you come up for a moment to talk?

His gaze fixed on hers, Celeste nodded gently and began to gather her things, suddenly she was feeling nervous and not understanding why.

—The rest of you, I'll see you tomorrow —Chris concluded.

With a nervous smirk, Celeste was about to approach but a warm and large hand holding her wrist made her turn, Hyunjin was so close to her face that she couldn't even react.

—I have to go to the arts campus now, but I'll see you tomorrow, Cel —he informed her with a smile, almost feeling his cool breath.

—Sure.

She limited herself to answer, she was so overwhelmed by the situation's overload, Chris wanted to talk to her and suddenly Hyunjin was approaching dangerously, she couldn't process it. Celeste returned her gaze to Chris, who had his eyes fixed on Hyunjin until he left the classroom, after feeling Celeste's soft gaze, he cleared his throat and looked at her, waiting for her to come closer.

Celeste walked to his desk and the last two students had already left the classroom, leaving only the two of them; she didn't want to appear nervous, she didn't have to be.

—You signed up during the academic break as an apprentice to some teacher at the beginning of the school year —Celeste quickly processed the information while he made eye contact with her—, well Burton, I'll be your mentor, is that okay?

—Oh, sure, I didn't know I had been selected… it's a pleasure, Professor Bang.

Chris gave her a smile and observed her, her still and straight posture with her hands together against her jeans.

—Yes well, the other students applied for classes with other teachers, but you were selected as my apprentice, I heard you're the best in the class.

Chris raised his eyebrows waiting for a reaction from her to his last comment and suddenly he realized that he was starting to ramble, he didn't understand why he did it. He shook his head slightly and tried to refocus.

—I want to discuss schedules. Wednesday is general rehearsal, so I like discipline, how about Monday to Friday excluding Wednesday, from 1 to 4? It'll be in the music room, for tomorrow.

Chris looked at her intently and Celeste began to think… she would have to shorten her work hours if she said yes, she couldn't miss the opportunity, it would be so beneficial to her resume, she wants to believe that he is a good teacher in terms of his knowledge and being his apprentice could lead her to expand her mind. But she would have to sacrifice a few hours of work; despite being sunk in sadness, she liked the little things like makeup, clothes, going to nice cafes, visiting the cinema alone, all without having to ask her parents for money at her twenty years old, so being his apprentice would only mean a little less pay, and working with him, or for him, for free.

Celeste thought for a second about how young he looked to be a mentor, she wondered if he was really qualified.

—You can’t…? —he interrupted her, expecting an answer.

—Oh, sure, yes, I'll be there. Thank you.

She smiled at him and Chris returned the gesture. Celeste was about to leave when the female desire to play a little took over.

She was steps away from walking through the door, but she turned, with a playful smile she searched his gaze, Chris was drawn to her sudden movement thinking that maybe she had forgotten to say something.

—By the way, Mr. Bang, did you just move to Woollahra? —he looked at her with a slight furrow of his brow and she continued— Oh, I didn’t want to sound weird; I just think we're neighbors now too. So, welcome.

Her tone was so sweet and innocent yet somehow wicked; Chris recognized the slight intentions of approach.

She left and left him sure of one thing, that it was her, the pretty and poor girl who cried through her window the night before. Chris swallowed, she's even prettier up close, he thought.

--------------------------

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @forklesschowder @bubblebisk @calisnewworld @sunarins-whore @bangchansslut6 @snowyquokka @chansbabygirlsstuff @athforskz @heeyboooo @chrizzztopherbang @yerijaksel @moonlightndaydreams @readr1221 @skzswife

lmk if u want to be add 2 the taglist☆

2nd divider by chilumitos, i dont rmber by who the first one oop

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz bang chan #bang chan #skz fanfic #skz smut #hyunjin #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #christopher bang #stray kids fanfic #bang chan x female reader #bang chan stray kids #bangchan fanfic #bang chan fic #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut

[my-love-is-sunlight]

Young, drunk and alone

Ace x singer!reader

Warnings: fem reader, alcohol consumption, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: In which you got a free tab in a bar where you preformed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Ace watches your performance intently, not missing any of the words that scape your mouth, ringing in his ears in a mesmerizing chant. Admiring your hands as they strum your instrument with acquired ease hitting every single note perfectly, and relishing how your feet move your body all across the stage, your skirt dancing like the waves of the ocean. The lights bounce from your face just right, making you glow like a mysterious siren that has emerged from the depths of the ocean to lure him to you.

And he has fallen right into your trap

He is taken out of his daze when the bar erupts with applause, whistles and praises at your wonderful performance. You make a reverence smiling wide

“Such an amazing performer isn’t she?, Ace-yoi?” Marco swings over to his brother locking one arm over his broad shoulders, his breath reeks like alcohol and his beer spills on Ace’s shorts, making him grumble

Before he can even complain, his breath is cut short as he watches you making your way to the table, smiling at both men fondly, your eyes glittering like the warm candles lighting the place

“Y/n-yoiiii, we were just talking about you” Marco redirects the attention while the second division commander stays completely frozen at your mere presence

A lot of people would describe Ace as a confident man, sometimes even too confident, as warm and bright like the flames that come out from his fingertips. Feared by some loved by others.

But whenever you appeared in his field of vision he would transform into a blushing, stuttering nervous wreck, something he did not understand and even thought for a while he may just had came down with an illness, or maybe he was allergic to your perfume? No, that could not be, you smelled like the sweetest flowers and softest mornings. Was it your beaming smile? it always made his tummy feel funny, or maybe your eyes? They always froze him like Medusa.

He even tried avoiding you for a while as he discovered whatever this curse that had fallen over him was, but it only made matters worse. The need to follow you around, listen to your melodic voice or just knowing you were near gnawed at him, you became a necessity

One day tired of this weird symptoms taking over his life, Ace made his way to his friend’s office, asking Marco to cure him. After describing in great detail the way you made him feel, the Doctor couldn’t help but laugh at his clueless brother

“Yep, it is very clear, you have a severe cause of love”

“Love?”

Love

The word swirled around his head along side thoughts of you, you and him to be more clear. What was he to do with this feeling? Was he wrong from wanting it? More specific, wanting you to give it to him?

The more he thought the more confused he became, falling into a spiral of pining and yearning, having him eating form the palm of your hand, attached to your hip and eager to decipher you, to know everything about you. He wanted your attention, his hands brushing yours without him even noticing, a strong want for you to pamper him in caresses and tender touches took over him, sometimes even hurting him to not being able to hold you close

But he didn’t deserved such thing did he? The son of the King of the Pirates, his existence a mere sin, a mistake, a curse that he never wished to bestow over anyone else.

You deserved better

But you were just so addicting, Ace could not deny himself indulging in you

If only he wasn’t so blinded to see how much you also wished for him, how easily you allowed him to enter your life and spread like a bonfire, burning your heart to ashes

“Did you guys enjoy the show?” Even though the question was asked for both the pirates on the table, deep down, your question was directed towards Fire Fist

“YES!” Ace answers way too quickly and loudly, he clears his throat immediately after realizing his action, red creeping from his neck to his ears “You are always so so so great y/n” he smiles at you overflowing with endearment and love

“Thought you’d like it” you winked at the commander and stared at each other in a trance, Marco standing beside both of your stupid faces, surprised how two people with a brain each sometimes he doubted this statement and two eyes were not able to realize how whipped they were for each other. He slapped the commander’s back loudly making him stumble

“I’ll go get you a drink y/n-yoi” Marco announces his departure to the counter as you settle beside your dear friend, his gaze following your every move

“Shouldn’t have given them a free show”

You giggle before you scooch closer to him whispering in his red tainted ears “Everything on my tab is free tonight” you earned the most bright smile from the Fire Fist, a smile that could burn the sun itself

“Say less”

Usually you would be the one looking after Ace, making sure he didn’t fall asleep on top of anyone or anything dangerous or just standing, passing him water every now and then to keep him hydrated, and most of the times, offering a shoulder for him to lean on as you both walked back to the Moby Dick. Tonight was not gonna be any different until Ace begged you to follow behind… now you were 6 drinks in the lead, it was your free tab after all

Too bad you didn’t had any alcohol retention

The commander didn’t left your side the whole night, making sure no one tried to snatch you form the table in your drunken state, weary eyes following your shaky steps to the counter and giving the nastiest of looks to any prying eyes that settled on you, he even checked your drinks before you’d down them.

“yOu lOOk soO HOt riGhT nOw AcE” your laughter exploded to all the bar to hear as your hands squished his freckled cheeks, faces dangerously close. To Ace’s dismay, drunk you was vey handsy and tongue loose, making it hard for him to keep his composure

Marco stretched one of his arms from the other side of the table snatching your fruity drink “That’s enough for you missy”

You whined, still holding Ace’s flushed face in your hands, he carefully took them in his directing your attention

“I think it’s time to go back”

“WE HavEn’T eVen DAncEd” the slurring in your words yet another signal for you to cut the tab “The only good performer is drunk out of their mind right now” Fire fist stood up holding your hand tight enough for you to not refuse to follow him out the bar

“Good luck champ!” Marco’s teasing tone was the last thing Ace heard as he exited the crowded place

Your feet seemed to have forgotten how to function, stumbling right behind your lovely friend, he makes the executive decision that carrying you back would be much effective

“Alright y/n I’m gonna have to pull you over my shoulder ok?”

“NO!” You push him almost falling on your back on the rocky road under your feet “I can walk jus’ fine thank ya’ very much” Ace just sighs before he squats in front of you and toses you over his broad freckled shoulders with ease, making you protest

“You’re lucky you’re hot” you say, words still slurring

A laugh rumbled from the center of Ace’s ribcage meeting your ears almost earning a smile out of you if you weren’t trying to appear offended “Is that so? You haven’t stopped calling me that all night” the alcohol had gained you a strong confidence, making the thoughts that formed in your brain drop out of your mouth without worry, an ability you wished you were born with

“Jus’ stating a fact” the strong man under you stays silent, a thousand thoughts racing through his head as he becomes even more flustered

You both arrive to the port in one piece, safe and sound. Ace puts you down delicately and making sure you don’t trip over, as his body goes to stand upright his eyes meet yours halfway, making him stop and admire the sweet unapologetic love that glistened in them,. Was this the way you always looked at him? With such adoration and want?

Your hands travel for a millionth time to the sides of his face as you whisper “You don’t believe me?” you didn’t stutter one bit, every word leaving your mouth with strong confidence, no hesitation

“Wh-“

“Ace, you’re amazing” Your eyes don’t snap from his at any moment, Ace’s heart thrumming in his chest so loud he swears you can hear it, warmth rises to his face meeting your soft skin that held him with such tenderness

“And you’re loved” his breath hitches, stuck in his throat as you praise him, his simple existence

You stay like this for a while before he stands completely upright and before you can even turn to walk to the ship, a pair of sculpted tattooed arms enveloped you in a warm honest hug

“Thank you y/n” This Ace sounds different to the Ace you had come to know and love, this Ace sounds vulnerable, open and afraid, a side you had never come across before

“You know I love you” you stand on your tip toes and clash your lips in his left cheek before hugging him even tighter

Fire Fist Ace, commander of the second division of the White Beard’s Pirates, a wanted man and feared pirate becomes putty on the hands of his fellow crew mate, a sight to behold

His heart fell to his feet, flames erupt from his flushed skin but he es quick to control them before they burn you. He looks down at you, a mess of emotions written all over his freckled face, but you just walk up the ship, like nothing had happened

“C’mon Portgas or I’ll fall asleep on the deck”

Next morning you woke up to the nastiest hangover you had ever experienced and a nervous Ace outside your door, hopeful you’d remember what happened

Sweet sweet Ace, who was gonna be the one to tell him a lady never lets their guard down, specially while drinking

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Title inspired ofc by Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan. LOVE writing singer!reader x Ace 🫶🏻 BTW I got 3 Sanji x gardener!reader drafts cooking

#one piece #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace imagine #one piece portgas d ace #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace one piece #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x y/n #portgas ace fluff #ace x reader #ace imagine #ace one piece #one piece ace #ace #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece fluff #fluff #fanfic #x reader #x y/n #ace x you #x you

[communistkenobi]

in that post abt the gender unicorn graphic, in the comments the idea of the “split attraction model” is brought up and you say you dont want to litigate that. however, im really curious what your opinion is bc i have some ideas abt it too. i feel like its sort of an incomplete analysis? like, people feel different ways about others and that cant really be flattened into like two modes of attraction. but i personally would call myself aromantic and bisexual so obviously i have some level of investment of the idea. anyways i just ask because in general i find your analysis and opinions compelling

thank you! re: this graphic

My issue with splitting “physical attraction” and “emotional attraction” is that it does the same naturalising trick that the chromosomes-as-the-symbol-of-sex does - by splitting the emotional from the physical, this implies that physical attraction is natural, without emotion, and by the same token that emotion can exist completely detached from the physical body of the person you emotionally desire. Like I just don’t think this is true! For example, the idea of “casual sex,” ie sex that is devoid of emotion/emotional investment, is a social construction, it is a sexual act that is being contrasted against societal norms of “serious sex” or “invested sex” or whatever you want to call it - sex that is being done in the context of a monogamous, married relationship, or an otherwise exclusive long-term one. the base social unit of much of western society is the nuclear family, and the nuclear family is “ideally” produced by monogamous, cis-heterosexual, racially homogeneous reproductive sex. That is the norm by which all other sexual behaviour and activity is judged by.

and to be clear I’m not using “emotional” in an idealistic or moral sense, I am not using it as a shorthand for romantic feelings, I am purposefully using the language the graphic is using - I mean any emotion. Like just to be super clear, I’m not suggesting that people who have casual sex all secretly love the people they fuck, or that sex has to always be a serious emotional endeavour, or that people who do not feel sexual attraction to the people they have romantic feelings for are secretly lying, but that I don’t think sex is something that can be devoid of emotionality entirely. Like I think we are engaging in this Cartesian body/mind dualism where the physical acts we perform are somehow wholly separate from our emotional states. Pleasure has an emotional component to it, I don’t know how to articulate my experiences with pleasure that do not involve some level of emotionality, and emotionality has a physical character to it. Like in fact I think this graphic is treating emotions as ideal states - it reminds me of like old misogynistic psychological theory that described rationality as an absence of emotion, that to engage in rationality is to move away from emotion. It treats rationality as “out there,” objective, natural, detached from social influence, and emotion as “in here,” in our hearts, ruled by the social. And this distinction is made on the idea that the social world is detached from the physical world, which is pure idealism.

this is not a dismissal or denial of anyone who feels a disconnect between their sexual and romantic desires, such as asexual or aromantic people - while I am neither of those things, I have experienced intense physical desire for the person I’m fucking while actively dissociating during sex as a result of dysphoria/heteronormativity/etc etc. by the same token I have also felt emotionally compelled to be physically attracted to someone without actually feeling physical desire. These are both emotional states that were in conflict with my physical desires, or rather my physical desires as I understood them at the time. our ability to interpret and understand our desires is itself social! otherwise heteronormativity wouldn’t be a thing. We don’t have unmediated, unemotional access to physical desire, which I think this graphic is arguing, intentionally or not.

so having complicated, contradictory, disconnected, or otherwise ‘non-normative’ relationships to our emotional states vis a vis physical desire is obviously very real, and the reason they are real is because physical desire is also socially mediated and constructed. What and who we find attractive, why types of bodies, physical and character traits, etc are attractive to us are all part of (joker voice) society.

now, idk how you easily communicate this in graphic format. perhaps these things are unsuited to the medium of easily digestible graphics, or perhaps I’m limited in my imagination. either way I don’t think bifurcating emotional-desire-as-social and physical-desire-as-natural is particularly helpful

#asks #disabling reblogs because um. well you know what tumblr is like #this is not ‘ace discourse’ or whatever the fuck I’m not doing that shit and if you start on here I’m gonna block you #even old new york was once new amsterdam

[ecliphttlunar]

Medicine - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You were having a difficult day where negative thoughts shook you, but luckily your boyfriend Chris is always there to save you

Warnings: cute, hugs, kisses, negative thoughts, a little angst

Author's notes: This is my work, I do not authorize any plagiarism, copying or “inspiration”. English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

You were sad, so sad, at that moment, your life didn't seem to make sense.

You felt ugly, incapable, inappropriate, God! You were feeling every negative feeling there was, even non-existent ones.

And there weren't enough words that could describe what you were feeling.

You traveled all over the world, collected lyrics, but nothing, nothing could describe this feeling that took over your heart.

And so you asked yourself, how could you talk to someone about this?

Talking to others about your feelings was never really a problem, at least not with your closest friends.

But now? You were a child who was left on a road in the middle of the night.

Lost.

Alone.

In the dark.

At least that's what you thought while cooking dinner at the triplets' house.

You thought that no one could understand what you were feeling, not when you couldn't form words, so why waste other people's time, why be inconvenient by saying that you didn't feel well, when no one could understand you, help you.

When you didn't even understand what you were feeling?

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice Chris's gaze on you.

Chris knew something was wrong the moment you appeared in the room, your shoulders slumped, your eyes heavy, your smile weak, dejected.

You always had big smiles that brighten any darkness, but now? His smile was wan, a smile that tried to hide his tears.

He didn't know what had happened, if someone hurt you, if they said something that hurt you, if you were in physical pain or not.

But he knew, he was sure, that everything wasn't okay.

Then, he got up from the couch, the place he had been sitting staring at you for the last 10 minutes, and walked towards you.

You were always alert to your surroundings, no matter the situation, you always noticed when something had happened to someone, or when a person approached, so when he approached you, and you didn't notice, as if someone had blindfolded you , he worried.

He was behind you, when he wrapped his arms around you, you were a little startled by the sudden contact, jumping slightly, and looking back.

It was just Chris.

You let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't do that anymore, you scared me" You said softly, when you went back to mixing the food in the pan.

"Everything is fine?" He ignored what you said, needing to know what was happening as quickly as possible.

"Why the question?" You ask back.

You always did this, when you didn't want to answer something, you asked the person a question as an answer.

"You don't look like you're on planet Earth today"

"No? Where do I look like I am? In fact, if I weren't on earth, how would you be hugging me now?"

“No, not like that, you’re here, but at the same time, you’re not here” you raise an eyebrow.

“Your body is here, your mind is not” You go back to mixing dinner, taking a deep breath.

"It's okay, I'm just tired" You weren't lying, you really were tired, but one of the main reasons for those words was because you really wanted to close this subject, you know that tomorrow you would wake up better.

But of course, Chris didn't accept that. He knew there was something more, and he wanted to find out what it was.

He was always like that, he was always there for you, even when you didn't want anyone, you just wanted to be alone.

And that was why you loved him so much.

Because he was your guardian angel, your bulletproof vest when everything got dangerous, he stayed in front of you when you were in the crosshairs.

He was there to heal all your scars.

And you knew he could save you now, when you are in the crosshairs of negativity.

His body leaned over yours a little, taking the spoon out of your hand and throwing it into the sink.

You tried to take the spoon back, making the excuse that the food wasn't ready and you needed to stir it more.

But Chris was watching you, he knew that you had turned off the stove for more than 5 minutes.

He turned his body to face him, and hugged his waist.

"Talk to me, what's going on?" He asked again.

But what he received in response was silence, and his eyes were watery.

"Honey..." He began, a speech already planned in his mind to make you speak, at least the basics, so he would know what happened, but this moving speech was not necessary, because right after he called you, the words ran out of his mouth like a river.

And now, you were a mess.

A beautiful mess in Chris's eyes, even with your tear stained face, messy hair, wrinkled clothes, you looked beautiful.

The gods knew how beautiful you looked.

"I don't know, I woke up like this, I'm just sad, nothing really happened, I just... I feel ugly, inappropriate, annoying, I don't know, I, I don't know, I can't explain it." You tried, you really tried, but you couldn't, gods, you didn't even know who you were at that moment.

You didn't know what were happening.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, pretty girl, it's okay, you don't need to say anything else, I already understand, I got you, I'm here with you." He cupped your face and dried your tears, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead. Trying to calm you down.

Which, even though it took a while, worked.

You let out a shaky breath. And when you look up, back at him, you realize he was thinking of a solution.

"What do you think about us lying down, cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, we don't need to say anything, just cuddle, do you want that?"

You smile lightly and nod, hugging Chris's waist, and hiding your face in his chest.

You stayed like that for a while, when you finally started moving to the couch, you on top of Chris, while you chose a movie.

It had been about 10 minutes into the movie, and you were already feeling better, but there was still something bothering you.

And of course, Chris noticed, so he did what he knew would help, what always helps, he kissed you.

He gently grabbed your chin and kissed your lips, making all that pain you were feeling go away.

Making you feel better than you ever have.

He could do this.

He was your medicine.

You separate, and look at each other, you smile in thanks, and lay your head back on his chest.

For the first time that day, feeling good.

#chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x you #nick sturniolo edit #nick sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo edit #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets edit #sturniolo triplets x reader

[ryan-sometimes]

hi! you're the only biochemist i know so i have to ask this

my aunt recently got really into this holistic-sounding thing called healing immunity by transfer factors, tied to a very fishy company, 4life. in my understanding, they're preying on the lack of scientific proof that something /doesnt/ work to convince people that it /does/, based on reports of 'clients' that miraculously healed from various conditions from minor allergies to literally cancer, as well as preventing/curing >autism< 💀 problem is, she totally believes this bulshit and is giving them tons of money and trying to get the whole family to try it too

as a biochemist, I was wondering if you ever stumbled across transfer factors, know about any recent research on this field, or know the scientific explanation for why this is a load of baloney

thank you!

I’m familiar with transfer factors. A transfer factor is a chemical compound (often a protein) that is taken from an organism after it develops immunity against a disease. It’s part of immune cell signaling- it’s how your immune cells talk to each other.

But that’s the issue with pseudoscience. Oftentimes, they take something that has a small fraction of truth to it and then completely invent the rest.

Here’s the rest: transfer factors are often incredibly specific. So specific, in fact, that just two strains of the exact same bacteria could lead to two completely different factors being generated in response to them. Also, two different people infected by the exact same illness could generate different antibodies/transfer factors in response. Your immune system is as unique as your fingerprints.

Even if you took the antibodies/transfer factors from one person immune to a disease and injected them into someone currently afflicted by the disease, there’s no guarantee that it’ll make them immune as well. Cell signaling compounds are essentially words in the language your body uses to communicate with itself- and who knows if other people’s cells speak the same language?

For all you know, that transfer factor is telling your body something it might misunderstand completely. What if it “mishears” what that factor is trying to say? You could trigger an unwanted immune response! And that could potentially be even worse than just developing immunity naturally through exposure.

The field of transfer factors is still rudimentary- all of the real (actually scientific) research on injecting people with transfer factors to boost immunity is still very much in its experimental phase. Any company alleging to sell transfer factors to boost immunity is scamming you. Not even real medical companies are doing that yet, and if they could, they would. You know how money hungry pharmaceutical companies are.

Here’s one thing that’s certain: transfer factors cannot cure non immunity/infection related issues. Autism isn’t caused by a pathogen, how can your body develop an immune response to it when there’s nothing to fight? And regarding cancer, there’s already an existing field to treat cancer using your immune system: it’s called immunotherapy. And that will be given to you by a doctor, not some random company trying to sell glorified supplements. And for allergies? Get some antihistamines and an EpiPen.

The best way to boost your immune system is already available: vaccines. Vaccines prompt your body to make ITS OWN transfer factors and antibodies, which guarantees your cells will understand what those factors mean. And the transfer factors your body makes for itself will always be safer and more effective.

Real science beats pseudoscience.

#I love it when you guys ask me scientific questions please ask me more of them #long post #biochemistry #pseudoscience #science #biology

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

Moar Buddy Dawn Shit in relation to this post

Buddy was dead for about 10 to 15-maybe-20 minutes. Kristen and Gorgug at the top of Freshman Year were only dead about 3 to 5 minutes and they still got some form of time in the afterlife, (side note: Gorgug not knowing what Orc Heaven looks like and being Deeply Fucking Terrified and shellshocked by the entire experience is So Juicy To Me, like. Something that should by all rights be familiar to him being foreign. Of deep spiritual significance, but not in the way it was 'supposed to be'; he didn't even know how it was 'supposed to be' at the time or after he learned it, he's still not really sure if it was ever a 'supposed to'.) so I'm quite sure Buddy experienced Something beyond the grave and chose to leave it for this nameless aspect of Ankarna. The version of her which exists as a result of her complete death and incomplete resurrection/preservation.

In that 10 to 15 minutes, Buddy passed into the place he was going. Perhaps some cornfield out on the edge of Helio's domain where Helio figured 'I'll get to him or he'll find me sometime, there's literally infinite time here'. Perhaps as a petitioner on the Astral Sea- wait, no, I'm thinking about Rolling With Difficulty cosmology, the Astral Realm is not a sea in Fantasy High. (also go listen to Rolling With Difficulty) Regardless of if he went to the afterlife the adults all told him he'd go to if he'd been a good boy or to some more limbo-like place, he had just enough minutes for the reality to sink in that he's Dead. He's dead and the feeling of a hand gripping his shoulder as if to hoist his assailant high enough to slit his throat presses like a cold weight on his skin. As if this body has skin, no, he's just a solid soul given form in this place.

So jarring. Resting dead in some corner of the cosmos like finding the one empty room at a big loud party where you've mostly been taking things in, sticking close to people you know, not doing anything you're not supposed to. Sitting down on the unfamiliar furniture or swaying idly in place as you listen to the murmur of this foreign world around you. Only it's not like that, not truly at all. You're not at the party anymore, the echoes of your life aren't some thing you're taking a break from to rejoin or building up the nerve to excuse yourself from to get a proper change of scene. There is no going back or moving forward.

He's dead. Buddy Dawn is dead.

How many minutes did it take him to lose composure? Did he even? When the ultimatum was posed to him, did he harden his heart to any regrets about abandoning his original faith, or did he relax into knowing he could live again, in service of something that reached for him and he reached back towards?

Why was he so chipper saying 'Dang, y'all, I worship a nameless god of rage.'? He didn't sound horrified by his decision in much the same way he didn't sound in touch with reality when he said 'Sometimes I raise my hand and magic that burns folks to a crisp comes out, but that's just the lord Helio working through me.' His death didn't change him so much as it fixed his gaze onto something new.

He is still a Cleric. Through and through. His soul needs a divinity to latch onto. And this is the first time he has latched onto a divinity wholly and completely for himself. He was not taught how to live for himself. He was taught how to live and die for a cause. For Helio. He earns a nice afterlife via sacrificing his autonomy to whatever the church tells him is good and right.

But he doesn't want a nice afterlife.

He wants another life.

And he no longer has faith that Helio will deliver him from any hardship, because even after he's just barely grasped how dead he is and has been for the past 11 minutes, his soul is wrent into an ultimatum by a different power. Go back to his body and continue living under a new banner, or be trapped in a dark, solitary purgatory which his soul may never be free from.

It's an easy decision, really. Barely requires any thought, only following a feeling. He no longer wants to stand by the god who allowed him to die so unceremoniously and so unfairly. He honestly feels more betrayed by Helio than he does by Kipperlily. Kipperlily hardly made any promises to him, just asked for him to be the party's cleric. He never expected her to do that, sure, but... His whole life he was promised that every bad emotion he ever felt in response to every wrongness in his life would (should, must, has to) simply evaporate away in the golden light of the corn god. And it's been an eternal 12 minutes, but he only feels worse and worse.

And if all Helio could promise him was a flat expanse of farmland overseen by someone who didn't even properly greet him when he walked in (if the celestial bureaucracy were even doing their jobs and funneled the soul of Helio's cleric to Helio instead of some cosmic waiting room or other), but this nameless deity can promise him a life for himself? Then by god he's taking that ultimatum, come back to life, sit up with a slightly surprised little smile and announce to the world (as he has been taught is right to do when you are devoted to a god) 'I worship a nameless god of rage!'

And he'll be happy with this choice-that-is-not-a-choice which he was betrayed and coerced into. Because it truly feels self indulgent to choose anything. To choose ragefully living for himself instead of obediently dying for an unfulfilling promise. He'll choose the intensity and the darkness because the gentle constant pressure cooker of walking in the light gave him nothing but sunburns and a slit throat.

#fantasy high junior year #fantasy high junior year spoilers #i love him #buddy dawn #kristen applebees #gorgug thistlespring #fhjy #dimension 20

[givemearmstopraywith]

how do i reconcile being religious (catholic specifically) while also being pro-choice? I’m sorry if this sounds like a bait question, it’s not i promise! But recently i’ve been grappling with my faith again and trying to immerse myself with god again and i feel a bit….dissonant i guess? over having strong opinions on abortion and then on the other hand being religious. i don’t feel grief about being pro-choice, it’s something i believe proudly and w integrity. but it seems like i am in between two opposing great forces which demand of me to choose one over the other? do you have any kind words on how i could possibly reconcile with these? thank you x

i just finished writing research close to this topic, specifically on the problem of mary's consent. which of course comes back to issue of bodily autonomy which is central to questions of abortion. and mary is a problem: theology can neither acknowledge the problem of rape nor accept a consenting woman. to not consent is to be raped, to have control over your body, to say "yes," to consent, is to show a yearning for sexual pleasure, for oneness, and to innate acknowledge that a woman has control over her body before Go does. women must be both and neither: that is why we have the virgin mary. according to contemporary understandings of consent, mary simply could not consent: effectively God has autonomy over her body before she does.

the historical mary is a woman: she is jewish, poor, young, unmarried, and pregnant, and is the ultimate embodiment of liberation theology’s “preferential option for the poor.” but she is absolutely absent of any sexuality. when marcella althaus-reid states that poverty is a bodily and sexual matter, mary cannot be included in this statement. mary is never indecent: her existence is pinioned on the concept of her decency. she is the “right” version of all women, the perfect mate for the god-man: she is submissive, and receives him without becoming distracted by the matter of her self-determination. mary is never overcome by a profane hunger. theology requires this ultimate model of femininity to measure against all other women.

elisabeth schussler fiorenza calls attention to the danger to ecclesiastical and political authorities if mary is rendered as a self-determining single mother: a single woman who is “god-empowered, god-protected” and “filled with the holy spirit who exalts the violated and makes the fruit of illegitimacy holy.” if mary was rendered as excitedly or joyfully consenting to the act of impregnation by god, she would not suit the dominant narrative of women’s sexuality in theology: her joy can only be vocalised after she has already submitted to the masculine-penetrative god-man.

a woman who leans into the oneness and pleasure of union with god because it is pleasurable, out of the locus of her body and her sense of self-determination rather than a sense of duty or submission, has no defined place in christian theology. she can only be appropriated and co-opted by dominant patriarchal narratives, talked over, and silenced. a mary who found pleasure and joy in her impregnation, who readily and excitedly agreed to the divine directive in full knowledge of its implications, implies a femininity which cannot be controlled.

i mention mary because mary is the nexus of most catholic arguments about abortion, whether she is specifically named or not. she is the excuse used to block anyone regarded as "receptive" to patriarchy from having control of their body. i personally read the lucan narrative as mary consenting: let what you have said be done to me. this is consent, though we may debate whether or not it was informed or coerced. but i cannot imagine that christ would have come into the world through an unwilling mother. nor does God force belief on those who do not consent to believe: only people, only dogma, forces itself on the unconsenting. so in this way i can say that God cannot exist to us without consent. violation is a human creation: it is humans who violate God at the crucifixion. as such God cannot exist to us without bodily autonymy, without allowing us choice- it is the human creation of fascism which denies choice, and i hold that dimension of denial absolutely separate from God, because it is not part of God. God may be used to excuse it, but God cannot deny the natural choice and autonomy of his creation without also violating his own existence.

as for catholicism, it is old and it loves augustine. the idea that abortion is wrong is a fairly new invention in the cahtolic church and really only comes from fears that all babies are destined to hell. medieval catholicism saw life as beginning at the "quickening," which could mean anything but was seen as the first movement of the child in the womb. quickening was seen as the moment of ensoulment, and church views of abortion dictated that after ensoulment, a baby would be condemned if not baptized. it is this bizarre and exceptionally antiquated view that is the foundation of contemporary abortion debates: but even contemporary ideas of "human at conception" are ludicrous in comparison to how medieval catholicism understood when a person became a person separate from the person of the one bearing it. christianity dispelled with the judaic idea that the mother's life was more important than the fetus: it is typical of christianity to dispel of its own humanity.

effectively what i'm saying is that things change. the church changes: we find ourselves in unfortunate epochs, but the catholic church is prone to evolution and i appreciate that. but i don't feel, in any way, that being pro-choice and being catholic are at odds with each other. your morality is simply beyond where the magisterium can currently gather itself, and that's okay. the church has always been like that and probably always will be. it is the body of believers, those in the grassroots, those out in the world, who matter the most: over and above canon law, since all law (unlike God) is subject to editing and change. maybe that's a bit controversial: i don't believe it is. jesus didn't live in the temple, he lived on the street. he loved his religion, but he also knew that certain aspects did more harm then good. and maybe he felt conflicted over his love for his faith and his conviction about humanity. you walk where he treads: be proud of that.

#replies

[ghostlychief]

OKIE, HI LOVE, I'm so excited. I would like to request Touch-starved! John. John, who didn't realize how it felt to be loved. John, who didn't know how nice it felt to be wanted for being just him. John, who's never had a hug in his life, stiffing when his partner gave him a hug before realizing how comforting it was. John, who doesn't know how to hug his partner back and is scared he'll hurt them.

Okay i love this idea so much. YOUR MIND CONTINUES TO AMAZE ME. Because John would TOTALLY be like this at first. Love touch-starved!John. For some reason the concept of the song Drops of Jupiter popped into my head when i thought of this John. I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and hope you're doing well <3

---

Drops of Jupiter

John-117/Master Chief x reader

no warnings, just fluff!

---

John’s life can really only be measured by statistics, measured quantitatively. From the moment he was found on Eridanus II by Dr. Halsey, his life started to have meaning in the way of numbers. How fast was he growing? How much did he weigh? How much could he lift? Those numbers became one of the most important thing in his life. Besides that, he didn’t have much else to count for. His sole purpose was to train and become the best Spartan II the UNSC has ever seen.

That was until he decided to remove the hormonal pellet, lodged in the center of his lower back, resting in between his spine. Who knew how much power rested in something smaller than a quarter?

This pellet repressed his moods, making sure he was only ever objective, the thought of subjectivity a sin. It also dimmed hormones a normal person experiences in their every day life. Such as, the longing touch of a loved one. Or, the hope to feel accepted by one’s peers. These suppressors were supposed to make the ultimate, elite solider. It was supposed to help aid the Spartan’s on the battle field by making them mission oriented. Act first, ask questions later. As long as the mission was complete and a success, not much else mattered.

At first, John felt disoriented. He felt unbalanced by the new coming of emotions and hormones that spiraled around in his body. There was a crash of emotions washing over his entire body that he forgot he felt before, in a distant past life he wasn’t even sure really existed. It felt rickety, yet exciting. Everything seemed brand new to him. The clouds looked different, the grass brighter, the sun felt warm against his skin. He appreciated the stars that blanketed the sky on a moonless night.

For once, he felt like he completed the orbit around what his life was really about. He finally understood. Life wasn’t just about missions and killing the Covenant. No, there was so much more to it and he finally felt like he touched back home after a long, grueling journey, pulled down by the gravity of the new world he found himself in.

Shortly after his pellet was removed, he met you. You were a linguistic technician that worked closely with many of the people John worked with. You were an expert in Sangheili, which became a hot commodity skill to have in the impending months leading up to the human/Covenant war. John had actually crossed paths with you before, only in passing, but you have met, though not officially.

The day you sat across from him in the cafeteria was Johns’s first encounter with you since feeling different, feeling new. You were already half way seated when you asked, “Mind if I sit here?” John looked up at you, brows furrowed and nodded, but at this point you were already sat down at the table.

“I’d like to pick your brain about something if you don’t mind?” Your sweet voice traveled across to John in the noisy cafeteria and he found himself staring at you for a second before he mentally shook his head. “Sure?” He was still perplexed why you were here sitting with him. Usually no one approached the Spartans unless they were instructed to do so.

“Okay, so I’m in the linguistics department, specifically Sangheili, and I wanted to ask you about the encounters you’ve had with the Sangheili, specifically the higher ranked Sangheili.”

John felt himself slightly smiling at your rambling, but he made sure to hide it from you. He cleared his through them said, “Yeah, I remember you. We met in passing a couple years ago.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! I didn’t think you’d remember.” This time John made sure you noticed his smile, “Spartans have eidetic memory.”

“Ah, that’s right. Well, that’s good for all the questions I have for you then.” You then proceeded to talk to John about the Sangheili culture and how it related to their patterns of speech for the next two hours, time slipping away, fast through your fingers.

After that, John always felt a pull towards you, seemingly stuck in your orbit. If neither of you were on duty, you’d usually end up going on long walks. John told you about his past, like what it was like being in the Spartan program, and other adventures, like his mission on the Halos. You never interrupted him, and typically had follow-up questions, always curious to learn more about him.  

The first time you touched him was when he was explaining how he was taken as a child by Dr. Halsey to be entered into the Spartan program. You rested your hand on his bicep, and your fingers slowly rubbed back and forth in a comforting notion. He at first stiffened, but then soon relaxed under your enchanting touch, longing to feel it again after you left his quarters that night.

He started to see more and more of you, and his feelings slowly and quietly developed into something akin to love, though he was never really sure what that word meant. Not until you. He imagined what love might have been, but could never quantify it since love never dealt in numbers or absolutes. It was abstract, confusing, with no concrete answer to it.

Though all of these new emotions felt confusing at times, John never felt confused by you. You simply loved him, not Master Chief or John-117, just John. Slowly but surely, John felt more comfortable with you, emotionally and also physically. Although Spartans are massive in their stature, people still forget how freakishly strong they actually are. Such as, John can easily flip over a Warthog. So, in dealing with you, he was extra cautious.

The first time you wrapped your arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug, he was worried about hugging back, afraid he would crush you, hurt you. He doesn’t remember ever receiving a hug like that, and he wanted to savor it, and feel it over and over again. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he would always pull you into random hugs through out the day, comforted by your beating heart against his.

John’s life, once measured only in numbers, in quantity, now could be measured by so much more. He was lucky, after all.

---

#master chief x reader #john 117 x reader #halo master chief x reader #halo master chief imagine #halo master chief request #john 117 request #john 117 imagine #master chief request #master chief imagine #master chief x you #john 117 x you #halo master chief x you #halo john 117 x you #halo john 117 x reader #halo master chief fluff #master chief fluff #halo john 117 fluff #john 117 fluff #fluff #fanfic

[sophieinwonderland]

Wait you're out as plural to family? Could you link to post or tag you have regarding that? Considering coming out to others so I'd really like to read others experiences. Thanks.

Not sure when we talked about it. But it basically all went wrong. It started with my host talking about tulpamancy with his family a lot for maybe a couple days to test the waters, me really not wanting him to and just being okay with being a secret, my host's mom deducing that he wanted to make a tulpa, and him confessing that I already existed. And this was only a few days after I became self-aware.

It went poorly. His mom wasn't happy. And this conversation happened after the body had been awake all day while my host was too tired to adequately explain things.

He also has a habit of explaining everything in the worst way possible in general for some reason, which made the whole thing even worse.

And to be honest, it felt a little bit like he was wanting someone to tell him he was crazy or that I wasn't real. Like maybe that would make things easier. And that led to us fighting.

It was a disaster!

(He later told his brother a couple weeks after that, and his dad overheard him talking about it one day with his mom and just... never cared. Which is pretty on brand.)

Things got better. While his mom was upset at first, we worked through it, she became more accepting, and in hindsight, I'm glad everyone found out.

But... don't do what he did.

Read this instead:

When you do come out, make sure you're of clear mind. Don't do it while tired. Or intoxicated either for that matter. We weren't, but I suspect some people might try the liquid courage route, and I'm betting that anything that impairs your ability to rationally explain yourselves is a bad move.

And be confident. Make sure this is what you and your headmates want to do, plan how you want to come out, and go for it.

#pro endogenic #plural #plurality #multiplicity #sysblr #tulpa #tulpas #tulpagenic #tulpamancy #endogenic #systems #system #pro endo #endo safe #endogenic system #plural community #system stuff #system things #actually plural #actually a system

[ikkosu]

Psssst

Ikko

Mean yandere Prowl or Pharma.

They fake being an absolutely perfect boyfriend, but are actually spying on you everywhere, blackmailing your friends, threat your family member, enter in your appartment to steal your clothes/underwears,....

They love you.

So much they could kill anyone.

(Just like the game "Perfect boyfriend Pieter" or smtg this style i don't remember the name)

😈😈😈 how about both ehejejekejej I WANT BOTH EVIL BOYFRIENDS I want them one upping each other in every way lmaooo 😔🙏 ONE CHANCE OUGHHAHHHS 👀 ohh stealing the underwear,,,,,very saucy I like

They would be the most cunning people in existence, though with Prowls explosive anger I think his true personality would shown pretttyyy quickly lmaoo. He's got access to cameras, information about everything. He IS the strategic officer after all and data is something he's very efficient with.

Pharma, though, hes good at keeping up the appearances. Very charming. Less socially awkward, unlike Prowl (less creepy too, I'd imagine prowl would stare at you hours on end LMAO) But very violent ahaha and among the two with the actual BALLS to kill. Prowl? He'd kill, not as often — only when someone is a frequent obstruction, but resorts to confining you in a 'secure' place. (Ahem, isolating, ahem, you) from the rest of the world.

Pharma is a skillful doctor. He knows what to do with those bodies (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

#ikkoasks #YES PLEASE POOKIE #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw prowl #prowl x reader #pharma #idw pharma #pharma x reader

[mercuriians]

my paradise

jjk,, k. nanami x fem! reader

content info — short drabble, angst horribly and lazily disguised as fluff. <3 this fic was borne out of my own anguish upon witnessing certain spoilers. (gege hates us all)

author’s note — sorry for being mia. you guys all know how life can be. luckily i’m on break so i’ll do my best to send out at least one finished request 🙂‍↕️ i’ll fix this post’s format later, for now i hope you guys enjoy my first attempt at writing jjk.

"do you think heaven exists?"

you utter your question so softly, so innocently, in a timid whisper that seems like it barely even leaves your lips in the first place. the moonlight seeping from the window is dim, just enough to surround the room in a bleak, lazy kind of aura. nanami's just about ready to drift away into slumber—where it's dreamless and monotonous, and he simply just exists—but somehow there's a feeling that tugs at him. telling him that he should turn his body to face you, to see whether there's childlike curiosity within your eyes or quiet desolation.

so that's what he does. twisting around in the ivory bedsheets, he examines your expression with an air of diligence that probably shouldn't even be possible in the near-midnight hour. nanami ends up being a bit surprised. somehow you look calm. tranquil. like there's nothing else in the world worth focusing on but him.

but he still treads carefully, cautiously. "why do you ask, love?" nanami's voice is a bit hoarse, a little rusty from the lengthy time he's been silent.

perceptively, he sees the column of your throat move slightly as you swallow. "while i was on break earlier today, yuji asked me something," you admit. "he wanted to know how he could, in his words, 'give people a proper death' when the time came. and i guess that made me think about where we even go when we finally depart from this world. where our souls go to rest."

there's a small, intimate pause as nanami waits for you to continue.

"when we were kids, we were always told that there's a place for the good people and for the bad. obviously it's comforting to let yourself believe that it's all really that black-and-white, but i don't know." your voice trails off again. nanami doesn't know how much time passes when he sees your eyes become clouded over, like you're focused on something faraway. something distant, maybe something that wasn’t even there to begin with. "would there be some sort of paradise waiting for us when we die? would we even deserve that, kento?” you whisper.

he holds his breath.

it was exceedingly rare for you to succumb to such sentimentality. you were almost always driven with diligence, fueled by the need to stick to your schedule of early mornings, midday coffee breaks, and late shifts. in a world where curses ruthlessly threatened to enforce a strict hierarchy of chaos, he recognized the all-too-significant desire to at least maintain a reliable form of organization. especially considering the fact that you were both first-grade sorcerers. some of the very best.

but now, nanami's realizing that maybe, maybe the reason why you were always so vigilant is because there was no other option. there was no time to wallow in self-pity, to question why you both had to live in such a merciless society, to scream out in frustration and curse out every single damn thing in existence and wish that things had been at least a little bit easier.

either you accepted the cards you were dealt with, or you opted out of the game permanently.

nanami quickly wonders what that means for himself. but he shakes off the thought, shakes off the negativity that crept up on him for a split-second with the expertise that he's collected and honed over the years.

right now, his only objective revolved around you.

gently, he reaches out, touching your face with the calloused tips of his fingers. for a moment, he traces the smoothness of your skin, like a paintbrush to a canvas, before moving a loose strand of hair behind your ear. the way you look up at him with eyes just short of being teary makes his chest tighten, but he perseveres for you.

it's all for you. whether he likes it or not.

"i don't know the answer to that, and any sane person living on this planet wouldn't know either," nanami finally utters. as his words hit the empty air, he sees your pink lips curve upwards by the slightest bit. it’s like you can’t help but be amused by his trademark bluntness. even in the middle of such a bleak conversation, nanami’s glad that he can at least bring you some resemblance of joy.

“but the way i see it,” he continues, hand dipping down to find yours almost instinctively, “none of that matters.”

your brows furrow. you curl into his comforting figure. “what do you mean?”

nanami’s eyes meet yours. “i couldn’t give less of a damn about what happens after death. not when i’m here with you in this moment,” he whispers, unable to restrain himself from inching closer, closer towards your face, “and hopefully the millions after.”

his lips brush against your own. it’s tentative, even almost shy—his way of asking you if this is alright.

you seal the gap without a second thought.

nanami pulls you closer. his arms wrap around your waist, as if he was unwilling to ever let go.

the intimacy of it all is enough to make him forget that for a moment, he was lost in thought, lost in the realization that people truly were helpless to whatever happened in the afterlife. but really, above all else, he was a soldier—had been since the day he enrolled at jujutsu high. and as long as you were safe, nothing else would matter. including his own—insignificant, small, dispensable—life.

at that moment, nanami’s armor became yours instead.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami x y/n #enjoy the angst #<3 #only a little bit sorry #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #nanami fanfic

[minweber]

Musings on Custodes: Aging and Generational Divide

How many living custodians who remember the Emperor in the flesh are there? The precise answer doesn't matter quite as much as the existence of the question.

Custodians got their shit rocked pretty hard during the War Within the Webway at the end of the Horus Heresy. As traditional for warhammer there is some numbers fuckery going on: it is unclear how many custodians there even was initially, the famous monicker of "The Ten Thousand" possibly being intentionally misleading, and there is no precise information about how many of them were committed to the Webway, and therefore what percentage of the total number did their losses there make, and what then were their losses during the Siege of Terra... But once again, the specifics aren't that important here. What's important is the idea that after the dust had settled, Horus lay slain and the Emperor entombed - Custodes stood as a pale shadow of their former might, their numbers seemingly reduced to a fraction of the original.

What became of these veterans then? It is presumed that by the 42nd millennium Custodes numbers were generally replenished (just in time to get their teeth massively kicked in at the Battle of the Lion's Gate) - though we also don't know to what extent. Do those few-hundreds-to-a-thousand original Custodians still stand among them? Custodians supposedly don't age, and no upper limit to their natural lifespans is known, but there is the whole The Eyes of the Emperor retirement plan for them. Custodians who have, after aeons of service, their reflexes slow down even by a ridiculous degree of a millisecond, supposedly lay down their armor and go out into the galaxy to play spies. So time does affect them? Or is it something else that eventually slows down their bodies? Just how universal is this process for them? Because surely if it's caused by passage of time and at least one of them has gone this road over the last ten thousand years, then most, if not all, of the old guard must either have done so too or be on their way out?

Whatever the answer, the implications for Adeptus Custodes dynamics as a group and organization are fascinating. Because what does it even mean to become a Custodian after the Emperor's "death"? The shame of the failure you never partook in? The hole where the maypole of your entire identity should be? The expectation of being one of humanity's last links to some glorious past which was over thousands of years before you were even born? The Emperor sought counsel of his custodians from time to time, and supposedly made them specifically so that they would be able to give it - do the "young ones" feel the pull of this duty they can never fulfill?

And there are different potential flavors of delicious tragedy here.

If there are none or next to none original guardians left, then it kinda uproots the whole image of Adeptus Custodes, doesn’t it? The mysterious golden demigods are just as lost as anyone else. They may be thousands of years old, but none of them were there. None of them spoke to him, none of them bear any sacral foundational truths of humanity, or even of just the Imperium. All of their deeds and even they themselves are a desperate attempt to recapture something lost, not a defiant effort to carry something forward.

And if the old guard remains as a sizeable minority, then there must be an unseen divide between them and the new generations, right? With the Emperor being so integral to their identity and purpose, surely there was something important that they gained from interacting with him? Can they now pass this something down? Is it even physically possible? Can you truly be a custodian without it? Imagine looking at the new generation of, essentially, your people and realizing that there is a critical piece of your group's identity that they, through no fault of their own, will always be missing. That something important has been irrevocably lost, and they will never even truly now that it had been there? That's chilling stuff. Any real-world analogies for it that I can think of feel like they would be in poor taste to bring up in a rant about warhammer lore. Do they - consciously or not - hold it against them? Do they separate themselves physically and organizationally? Can one who has never seen the living light of the Emperor lead those who have? Are there enough heroic deeds in the galaxy to make up for not being there in time?

The theme of degradation and things being lost to the passage of time is very prominent in warhammer lore. In 40k, the small cadre of characters who physically bridge the divide between 31st and 42nd millennium have always been awarded with a certain aura of awe, but Custodes get to enjoy this situation from the position of someone for whom time itself should never have been a problem. It doesn't really matter how many of the "original" custodians are left - what will forever hang above them is that there even are the "original" ones.

#musings on custodes #adeptus custodes #warhammer 40000