#religious freedom offenders

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Andrew Doyle

Published: Dec 12, 2023

Towards the end of Christopher Marlowe’s play Tamburlaine Part Two, our marauding anti-hero burns a copy of the Quran, along with other Islamic books, as a kind of audacious test. “Now, Mahomet,” he cries, “if thou have any power, come down thyself and work a miracle.” Two scenes later, he is dead.

We might see this as a cautionary tale for our times. After all, it isn’t only Turco-Mongol conquerors who find themselves punished for Quran-burning. Last week, the Danish parliament voted to ban the desecration of all religious texts following a spate of protests in which copies of the Qur’an had been destroyed. Inevitably, the new law has been couched as a safety measure. This burning of the book, claims justice minister Peter Hummelgaard, “harms Denmark and Danish interests, and risks harming the security of Danes abroad and here at home”.

He has a point. Even unconfirmed accusations of Quran-burning can be sufficient to prompt extremist violence. In 2015, being accused of defiling the holy book, Farkhunda Malikzada was beaten to death by a ferocious mob in Afghanistan while bystanders, including police officers, did nothing to intervene. Many filmed the brutal murder on their phones and the footage was widely shared on social media. In 2022, a mentally unstable man called Mushtaq Rajput was similarly accused and tied to a tree and stoned to death in Pakistan. Earlier this year in Iran, it was reported that Javad Rouhi was tortured so severely that he could no longer speak or walk. He was sentenced to death for apostasy and later died in prison under suspicious circumstances.

But while we might anticipate that the desecration of the Quran would be proscribed in Islamic theocracies, it is troubling to see similar laws being passed in secular nations such as Denmark. The government had not been so faint-hearted when faced with similar problems in 2005. After cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed were published in Jyllands-Posten, a global campaign from Indonesia to Bosnia demanded that the Danish authorities take action. The government stood firm and the judicial complaint against the newspaper was dismissed.

In a free society this is the only justifiable response, albeit one that takes considerable courage. And the climate of intimidation that has descended since is a product of our collective failure to defend freedom of speech against the demands of militants. When the Ayatollah Khomeini pronounced his fatwa on Salman Rushdie for his novel The Satanic Verses, one would have hoped for a unified front on behalf of one of our finest writers. Instead, much of the literary and political establishment abandoned or even censured him. In the Australian television show Hypotheticals, the singer Yusuf Islam, formerly known as Cat Stevens, implied that he would have no objections to Rushdie being burned alive.

That a work of fiction such as The Satanic Verses could not even be published today gives us some indication of the extent to which we have forsaken the principle of free speech. If we are so squeamish about the burning of Qurans, why were so many of us indifferent to the burning of Rushdie’s book on the streets of Bolton and Bradford? Yusuf Islam’s remark about the author’s immolation might have been flippant but, as Heinrich Heine famously wrote: “Where they burn books, they will in the end burn people too.”

The ceremonial burning of books in Germany and Austria in the Thirties has ensured that the act will always have a unique charge, and a disquieting, visceral effect. It is why, for instance, the most memorable scene in Mervyn Peake’s Titus Groan is when the villain Steerpike sets fire to his master’s library. It is a gesture designed to repudiate the very heights of human achievement, to hurl his victim into a spiral of despair. When Rushdie saw his own novel publicly incinerated, he confessed to feeling that “now the victory of the Enlightenment was looking temporary, reversible”.

The burning of the Quran leaves many of us similarly troubled. We do not need to approve of the contents to sense that the destruction of a book is symbolic of a desire to limit the scope of human thought. When activists post footage of themselves gleefully setting fire to copies of Harry Potter, one cannot shake the similar suspicion that they would happily substitute the books with the author herself.

But while many of us find the burning of books instinctively rebarbative, to outlaw this form of protest is essentially authoritarian. And to reinstate blasphemy laws by specifying that only religious books are to be protected is fundamentally retrograde. Of course, such laws already exist in most Western countries in an unwritten form. In March, a 14-year-old autistic boy was suspended from his school in Wakefield, reported to the police, and received death threats after he accidentally dropped a copy of the Quran on the floor, causing some of the pages to be scuffed. He may not have committed a crime, but many people behaved as though he had.

And the same unwritten laws are in force in the fact that few would be brave enough to publish cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed after the massacre at the offices of French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo in 2015. Five years later, the schoolteacher Samuel Paty was beheaded on the streets of Paris simply for showing the offending images during a lesson on free speech. Closer to home, a teacher at Batley Grammar School in West Yorkshire is still in hiding after showing the images to his pupils and stirring the ire of a righteous mob.

The failure of the school’s headmaster, as well as the teaching unions, to support this man against the demands of religious fundamentalists is revealing. Why must those who claim to be defending the dignity of Muslims treat them as irascible children? At the same time, as Sam Harris recently pointed out, there is an oddity in the fact that so many Muslims do not appear to be alarmed that “their community is so uniquely combustible”.

The bitter reality is that terrorism works, particularly when so many governments across the Western world are seemingly willing to fritter away our bedrock of liberal values. This has been actuated, in part, by an alliance of two very different forms of authoritarianism: ultra-conservative Islamic dogma and the safetyist ideology of “wokeness”. The latter has always claimed that causing offence is a form of violence, and the former has been quick to adopt the same tactics. This is why protesters outside Batley Grammar School asserted that the display of offensive cartoons was a “safeguarding” issue, and the Muslim Council of Britain criticised the school for not maintaining an “inclusive space”. The same censorious instincts have been updated, and are now cloaked in a more modish language.

In a civilised and pluralistic society, the burning of a holy book might provoke a variety of responses — anger, disbelief, or just a shrug of the shoulders — but it should never lead to violence. Back when The Onion still had some bite, the website satirised this “unique combustibility” through the depiction of a graphic sexual foursome between Moses, Jesus, Ganesha and Buddha. The headline said it all: “No One Murdered Because Of This Image”.

Freedom of speech and expression still matters, and if that means a few hotheads and mini-Tamburlaines might burn their copies of the Quran then so be it. It is unfortunate that we have reached the point where Islam must be ring-fenced from ridicule or criticism, whether due to fear of violent repercussions or a misguided and patronising effort to promote social justice. But for this state of affairs we ultimately have only ourselves to blame, and in particular our tendency to capitulate to religious zealots when they seek exemption from the liberal consensus.

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#Andrew Doyle #blasphemy #blasphemy laws #quran burning #quran #islam #islamic authoritarianism #authtoritarianism #i'm offended #offended #religious authoritarianism #free speech #freedom of speech #freedom of expression #criticism of islam #religion #religion is a mental illness

[isitandwonder]

I think with the current situation it's important to understand why Iranians are so proud of their country and culture, and take so much strength from their Iranian identity, but loath the Islamic Republic.

The territory we call Iran today is one of the cradles of civilization. Especially the Kurdish region (sadly, it has been difficult to explore that part for many years, because with the rise in modern archeology also came the greed for resources found in that region that resulted in endless wars).

In the region encompassing Iran today people developed agriculture, built cities of unprecedented size, invented the earliest scripts - thousands of years BC.

The earliest written laws come from that part of the world, as does the first piece of literature we know the author of (a priestess btw). Zoroastrianism is the first monotheistic religion we know of - and still has followers today in Iran - inspiring both Judaism as well as the much later Christian faith.

The Gilgamesh epic was written there probably 2000 years before the Illiad, already incorporating many tropes we later find in world literature from the Bible to Arthurian tales.

When European tribes dwelled in muddy holes, Rome was but a village and Greek cities constantly quarreled with each other, the Persian empire ruled most of the then known world. This was only possible because of modern means of communication and liberal ideas of government and religious freedom (NEVER mention the movie 300 to an Iranian!) Their excellent highway system made trade between the Far East and Europe possible.

The sassanids later stood up to the Roman expansion.

The arrival of Islam lead to another cultural flourish, be it the literature of Hafiz and Rumi, or medicine, maths, art, architecture...

All this is very present for Iranian people. They are proud of their history and culture, that is part but not whole Islamic. Their tradition of celebrating Nowruz, for example, is thought to stem at least from ancient Persian times.

That's why Iranians feel so offended when people from countries with but a fraction of their history think of them as illiterate camelherders or fanatic islamic terrorists and assume cultural superiority over Iran. It also explains a certain resilience. This country has seen so much, 40 years of mullah rule are but a blink in the scope of Iranian history.

#Iran #history

[horanghaejamjam]

Raspberry Kisses - {JJK}

↪ Summary: You never believed in demons until a game gone wrong left you stuck with one. Though a Halloween party and failed baking experiment may have you realizing being bonded to Jungkook isn’t as bad as you thought. 

↪ Pairings: Demon!Jungkook x Female reader ft brief cameos from Namjoon and Yoongi. 

↪ Rating: M 18+

↪ Genre: Demon Au / Enemies to Lovers / College/University AU / Smut / Some Angst 

↪ Word Count: 10.5k

↪ Warnings/Contents: Smut (Minors DNI), Possessive and Flirty Jungkook,  Unprotected sex, Dom Jungkook, Sub Reader, Brat Reader, Religious Undertones, Mentions of blood/blood pact (nonsexual), Degradation, Slight Food Play, Marking, Praise, Rough sex, Growling, Oral (female receiving), Multiple positions, Orgasm control.

↪ This is so late because of everything that happened and I am so sorry but this story was meant to be a part of the horrorwood event hosted by the former @btswritingcafe network​ for my spooky friend @jeonspub​. I am so unbelievably sorry that this took so long but I still wanted to get it posted for you even if it’s late. I had a lot of fun writing this for you so I hope you like it and it was worth the wait. 

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The harsh screech of your alarm was what pulled you from your slumber, making you groan as you rolled over to hit the snooze button on your phone. A few deep breaths and another groan left you as you buried yourself under the covers, hiding from the bright light in your room. You knew you had to be up for class in about an hour but you didn’t care enough to get out of bed and get ready. Surely you could sleep for just a few more minutes and still be up in time to get to class, that was the thought anyways as you closed your eyes and tried drifting off again. Just as you were about to be pulled back into your dream world and even more annoying sound jolted you out of your rest yet again. 

“Rise and shine gorgeous!” Feeling a sudden weight pinning you to the bed, you ripped the covers off your head to glare up at the intruder. Bright red eyes gazed right back at you, accompanied by pale skin, short black hair, and a very sharp grin as he took in your form. Anyone else likely would have thought waking up in this position was a dream come true, but to you it was a living nightmare. 

“Jungkook get off of me,” you groaned, trying to roll over under his weight, “can’t you let me sleep for like 5 more minutes?” Jungkook didn’t even budge despite your struggling under him, merely smirking down at your pathetic attempt to move him. 

“You and I both know if you go back to sleep you won’t wake up again and you’ll be late to class, I’m just trying to help,” he mused, “and as much as I love watching you squirm under me like this we also know you can’t afford to miss any more class.” You stopped your movements and huffed as you glared up at him, clearly unimpressed by his little game.

“Get off of me you pervert!” you exclaimed as you reached up to hit at his chest. Jungkook merely shook his head with a dry chuckle before slowly crawling off of you to stand at the end of your bed. Your new freedom allowed you to finally sit up, crossing your arms and yawning softly as you tried to properly wake up. “Since when do you care about my life anyways?” you asked as you forced yourself out of bed, “I didn’t think you were capable of caring about anyone other than yourself.”

“Oh I don’t care,” Jungkook corrected, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed so he could watch you, “but I know you’ll keep whining about your grade and whatever else and I don’t want to deal with that so I’m making you go.” His eyes trailed your figure as you wandered around looking for something to wear, making you huff and throw a pair of socks at him. The offending article didn’t come close to hitting him, merely falling to the ground a few feet in front of him which made Jungkook scoff. 

“You know you are more than welcome to leave whenever you want!” you called out as you went into the bathroom to change, making sure to slam and lock the door so he wouldn’t follow you. Not that it mattered because Jungkook seemed to have the ability to appear wherever he pleased whenever. 

“Actually I can’t,” you heard his voice from the otherside of the door, tuning him out as you quickly got changed and brushed your teeth. 

“Because I accidentally signed a blood pact and now you are bond to me until I die or pass it out to someone else yeah yeah I know,” you muttered out, already knowing what he would say next. Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could tell he was grinning like a madman on the other side of the door. “Honestly, can’t I like do an exorcism or something to get rid of you instead?” you asked rhetorically as you brushed your hair out. The question wasn’t directed at him but he evidently still heard you as the door suddenly sprung open to reveal the frowning male. 

“You think some sellout priest with a generic biblical chant would be able to get rid of a being as powerful as I am?” he asked with a hand over his chest, “honestly Y/N I’m offended you would undermine me like that.”

“You were accidentally summoned by some college girls playing a stupid game and all you’ve done since is pop up randomly to scare me and stalk me like the creep you are. I don’t know about you but that doesn’t sound like the work of a powerful demon to me,” you taunted. 

“Anyone can summon a demon with the right tools so that’s on you and not me,” he reminded, “not my fault you decided to try an online ritual without reading the warnings.” 

“Whatever,” you hissed under your breath as you pushed past him, leaving your room to walk out into your living area. You paid no mind to the looming presence behind you as you grabbed your bag and walked into the kitchen to grab a protein bar, knowing you were going to be late if you stayed to humor your unwanted roommate any longer. “I’ve got to go or I’m going to be late. Stay here and try not to create too much of a mess while I’m gone,” you pleaded as you put your shoes on. 

“You know if you’re so worried about me causing trouble I can just come to school with you,” Jungkook suggested.

“Hell no!” you all but shouted, “dealing with school is hard enough I don’t need a demon following me around to make my life more of a living hell.”

“Suit yourself,” Jungkook shrugged, “have fun at school!” His tone and nonchalant expression was rather off-putting and made you nervous as you turned to finally leave. 

“I’m serious Jungkook, do not follow me and do not try anything funny!” you warned with one last glance back at him before rushing out the door. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

It had been almost a month since you ended up stuck with Jungkook and yet it already felt like an eternity. The memory was still fresh in your brain as well, replaying over and over like a cursed nightmare you couldn’t escape from. It all started when you and a few friends decided to meet up at your place for a horror movie marathon to celebrate the start of the spooky season. You loved Halloween more than anyone and so the second October came around you were more than ready to celebrate. It also helped that you lived alone and your apartment was close to campus so it was the perfect place for your little get together. A bunch of candy, every horror movie you could get your hands on, even more snacks and a few drinks and you were set to go. At least, that was the plan until you guys got bored three movies in and decided to spice things up a bit. 

“I have an idea!” your friend, Daeun said as she pulled up something on her phone, “I was researching rituals and summons for a project and I came across one that looked pretty interesting. It’s a ritual for eternal love and the supplies are things you should have laying around the house. We should try it!”

“You want to try a random ritual you found online with no experience?” you questioned. 

“Well yeah, it’s said to create an everlasting bond and it’s supposed to be super easy to execute,” she argued.

“If a ritual is that easily accessible it probably doesn’t work and we’ll just be wasting our time.” You definitely were not a skeptic by any means, in fact you had dealt with your fair share of paranormal experiences in the past, but this seemed like a scenario that was too good to be true. 

“Come on Y/N,” one of your other friends, Aiko piped in, “what’s the worst that could happen? If it is a dud we can say we tried and clean everything up but you won’t know unless we try.”

“Besides,” your last friend, Soyeon spoke up, “you’ve been single since you moved here a few years ago, lord knows you need all the help with love you can get.” All three girls started giggling after that while you merely rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help but think that their antics were a bit childish and that the ritual was a terrible idea but you were outnumbered so you hesitantly agreed. What followed was an hour of rearranging your apartment living room, working around a poorly drawn pentagram and you pricking your finger one too many times to get enough blood for the ritual to work. All four of you recited the incantation from Daeuns phone and then waited, feeling the room grow slightly cold but, much to your relief, nothing happened. 

“Damn,” Daeun muttered, “guess it was too good to be true.”

“Well we don’t know that yet!” Soyeon argued, “we don’t actually know what the ritual does, maybe it takes time for something to happen?” 

“What is Y/N going to walk into class next week and just be an attraction magnet?” Aiko teased. 

“God I hope not,” you groaned, “this was not a good idea.”

“Hey relax, nothing happened so I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Daeun tried to comfort you.

“Come on let’s get everything cleaned up and we can go back to watching the movies.” Still, even as you guys put everything back the way it was and continued your movie marathon with IT Chapter 2, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was extremely wrong. The feeling of dread you get when you’re out late and feel like you’re being followed but there’s no one there when you turn around. In fact, you could have sworn you saw a figure standing in the corner at one point though it disappeared the second you turned around. The feeling sent shivers down your spine and had you curling in on yourself as you once again peeked behind you to see if someone was there. 

“Hey Y/N, are you doing okay?” Aiko asked after a minute. 

“Huh? Oh yeah I’m fine, just a little cold that’s all,” you tried playing off your anxiety knowing that if they caught on you would be teased. 

“Don’t tell me this movie is scaring you,” Soyeon teased, “I thought it was your favorite?”

“I’m not scared!” you scoffed, “I told you I’m just cold. In fact, I’m going to go grab an extra blanket so you guys will stop bugging me about it.” With that you pushed yourself up to your feet and made your way to your room to grab the extra throw blanket you had on your bed. That same chill ran down your spine the second you were alone and you froze, taking a deep breath as you glanced around the room. “Relax Y/N, nothings there you’re fine,” you whispered to yourself as you walked over to the bed. 

“Oh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?” a deep voice coming from right behind you made you jump, falling back onto the bed with a soft shout. Quickly turning around, you gasped as you saw a man standing above you right where you had just been. His body was rather large and practically engulfed your frame in his shadow as he stood above you, bright red eyes peeking from under jet black bangs. His skin was pale but you couldn’t see much of it as his body was almost completely covered in black. A tight black turtle neck that looked like it would rip if he even tried to move his arms, tight black leather pants, even the black metal that decorated his fingers, ears, and one of his eyebrows. All things considered, he was a very attractive man and likely would have passed as human had it not been for the large ram like horns above his ears or the large black wings protruding from his back. You stared up at him like a deer caught in the headlights while he seemed to take his time drinking you in, licking his lips as his eyes raked your form.  “You’re a cute one aren’t you?” he finally spoke again after a moment, “not a bad choice for a companion, at all. Though I highly doubt someone as pretty as you struggles to find love so what’s the catch hm?” He leaned over to get a better look at you, only to have you crawl back as a result. 

“Woah woah hold up, who are you? And an even better question, what the hell are you doing in my apartment?” you questioned. He paused for a moment before sighing and running his hand through his hair. 

“There’s the catch,” he muttered under his breath, “I take it you didn’t fully read the instructions on that ritual you performed then, huh? Well let me explain it to you then so we are on the same page.” He paused for a moment to take a seat on the bed, crossing his legs and facing you. He looked much less intimidating looking up at you with an almost childlike innocence but you knew better than to let your guard down with him. “Well Y/N,” he said as he reached into his collar and pulled out an amulet, holding up a finger when you tried speaking again, “yes I know your name, I know everything about you and more. My name is Jungkook, and as of today I will be your own little demonic companion. This little vial holds the blood you offered to me, and as long as it stays intact we are bond together, I am yours for life.” He swayed the vial in question and you could briefly see the red liquid sloshing around inside the little gem. You glanced at him as if in a trance, still confused and just as scared as you were before. Because of the little game you decided to play you were now eternally stuck with a demon?

“Exactly,” Jungkook answered as if he was reading your mind, “you really didn’t read ahead did you? When done successfully the blood pact bonds you to an immortal lover and eternal devotion. The only way for you to get rid of me now is to pass me on to someone else, or die but don’t think I’ll let you leave me that easily. You’re clearly special to attach yourself to someone like me and I’m a selfish man so I don’t like giving up my toys that quickly.” He was about to say something else when a knock at the door startled the both of you out of your little moment. 

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?” You turned to Jungkook who held his finger to his lips in response. 

“Yeah sorry, I tripped over my shoes,” you lied with a soft chuckle, glancing back and forth between the door and the demon in front of you.

“Clumsy as ever I see, hurry up we paused the movie for you!” you heard your friends footsteps slowly disappear, leaving you alone with Jungkook yet again. 

“Well better get out there, don’t want to keep your friends waiting now do we?” he mused with a chuckle, “don’t worry though, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other later, until then.” With that he was gone, leaving you staring up at the space he once occupied. Part of you wanted to lay there and figure out what the hell just happened but you could hear your friends calling for you out in the living room. With a heavy sigh, you got up and grabbed your blanket, wrapping it around yourself as you waddled back out into the living room. The only trace of Jungkook was the brief scent left in the blanket from where he had been, still strong enough to invade your senses and distract you from what was going on. 

“Y/N.”

“Y/N?”

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

“Y/N!” the sound of Aiko shouting broke you out of your memory induced trance, glancing around to realize you two were the only ones left in class. You had been so trapped in your head that you completely missed what was talked about during your lecture. “You seem really out of it today, are you okay?” she asked as she grabbed her things and stood up, you doing the same so you could walk to your next class together. 

“Yeah I’m fine, just haven’t been sleeping well I guess,” you brushed off her concerns knowing you couldn’t tell her the real reason. As if having Jungkook around couldn’t be any more annoying, you weren’t even allowed to let other people know of his existence. He was nothing more than a twisted hallucination, appearing only when no one else was looking and making you feel like you were going crazy. Actually, you probably were going crazy with all the stress you were under.

“You’re focusing too much on work and it’s stressing you out,” Aiko noted, “maybe relaxing and getting out a bit would do you some good? Halloween is this weekend after all.”

“Don’t remind me,” you groaned, “it’s my favorite holiday and I haven’t even been able to do anything to celebrate because I’ve been so busy.” You had to resist the urge to slam your head into your textbook as you thought about that and the fact your Halloween would likely be spent alone studying. 

“Hey hey come on now,” Aiko tried cheering you up, “relax we still have time to celebrate. You know Yoongi invited some of us to a Halloween get together at his place, you should join us! We can go after school and get you a costume and it’ll be fun.” You appreciated that she was trying to help and cheer you up, but a party really wasn’t your idea of fun. 

“I don’t know, parties aren’t really my thing,” you countered.

“Don’t think of it like a party think of it like a friendly hangout. You, me, Daeun, Soyeon, Yoongi, Namjoon, and possibly a few other friends, nothing crazy.” You still weren’t convinced which had her groaning and pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Fine fine I’ll think about it okay?” you gave in just to prevent an argument, which seemed to do the trick. 

“Awesome! Let me know before lunch though so I can plan if we’re going out tonight or not! See you soon Y/N!” she exclaimed with a pat on your shoulder before making her way down the hall to her class. You shook your head and turned to make your way to your own class when you felt a familiar shiver run down your back. 

‘You have got to be kidding me,’ you thought to yourself as you glanced around for the all familiar black figure you knew was following you. You didn’t see him at first, but you definitely felt him when he crept up behind you. 

“Your friend has a point you know, going out would be a nice change for you,” he mused with a smug grin as he saw you jump. 

“What are you doing here?!” you hissed as you turned to face him, “I told you not to follow me.”

“Yeah you did make that pretty clear,” he teased, “but all that did was make me curious and it was boring staying at home all day so here I am. Besides you don’t get around so I figured you could enjoy my company.” 

“No I do not enjoy your company!” you argued, “and how are you even here anyways? I thought no one was supposed to know you existed.”

“You’re really not that observant are you?” he questioned, “do you really think I would get away with just wandering around in my normal form? I have my ways of blending in.” It was then that you took a step back and finally registered the change in his appearance, more specifically how human he was. His wings and horns were missing, once red eyes now replaced with a deep brown, and even his fangs were replaced by almost cute bunny like teeth. He also wasn’t dressed in his normal black attire, instead wearing a simple brown shirt and cargo pants to fit in with your classmates. With the short sleeves of his shirt, you were also able to take note of all the tattoos covering his arms and even his hand, had those always been there? “Yes I’ve always had these, seems you just never cared enough to notice them,” he answered your question with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day. 

“You’re telling me you could do this the entire time and you only decide to spring it on me now?” you whisper yelled. 

“You never let me leave the house so there’s no point in hiding myself,” he explained casually, “also this takes a surprising amount of effort to maintain so I don’t like doing it often.” 

‘So much for powerful demon’ you thought. “If it requires that much effort why not just go home so you don’t have to?” 

“You know I went through all of this effort to come and see you and your only response is to shut me out? That really hurts you know,” you whined. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not and you honestly didn’t care, especially not when you were about to be late to class. 

“Fine whatever just stay quiet and try not to ruin anything,” you gave in, rushing to class with a very giddy demon trailing behind you. 

Save for the stares you kept getting, being at school with Jungkook went surprisingly well. He stayed quiet most of the time unless it was to talk to you and was even able to help you cheat with some assignments. It was only when your lunch period came around that you realized you would have another problem to deal with, explaining Jungkook to your friends. In fact you were half tempted to just skip and drag him off somewhere else before Daeun noticed you both and ran over, the rest of your friend group following. 

“Hey Y/N, who’s your friend?” she questioned as she looked over at Jungkook. 

“Oh umm this is Jungkook, he uh...” you stuttered trying to think of a reasonable excuse for how you met when he suddenly cut you off. 

“I’m a transfer student here from Busan, it’s actually my first day so Y/N has been showing me around,” he explained. 

“Oh that’s cool, though I’ve never actually heard of someone transferring in the middle of a term,” Soyeon commented. 

“I wasn’t supposed to start until next term but there were a few classes still open so I can at least get started.”

“What’s your major then?”

“Musical arts, I’m undecided about a specific focus though.” You couldn’t help but blink up at him in confusion, wondering how he was able to brush off their questions so easily. In fact it baffled you that he even knew anything about college to begin with. Didn’t demons have other priorities rather than learning about basic human life? 

"I’ve been around for centuries if not more,” you suddenly heard his voice in your head, “do you really think I wouldn’t know about how these things work? Let’s also not forget that I have an eye on you at all times.”

‘Great so now you can get in my head?’ you thought. 

“I’ve always been in your head gorgeous, again you just don’t pay attention.”

“Umm Y/N? We’re going to go sit down now,” you heard Soyeons voice which made you sigh. 

“Sorry guys I’m still pretty tired, yeah let’s go sit,” you agreed. 

“Jungkook would you like to come sit with us?” Daeun offered which made you want to sigh. 

“No”

“I would love to,” Jungkook agreed, smirking in your direction as he walked with the rest of your friends. All you could do was slouch over in protest as you followed them anyways, hoping things wouldn’t get any worse. 

“Hey Namjoon, Yoongi, over here!” just your luck that things were about to get a million times worse. Glancing up from the table you watched as the two males walked over to join you guys. Yoongi was an upperclassman and your mentor for one of your final projects so naturally you had grown pretty close to him. He was the one who introduced you to Namjoon, a business major in the same year as you were. The two of you had immediately clicked and became best friends, and you had even started to develop a little bit of a crush on him. All your friends knew about it and were trying to play matchmaker, getting you two near each other whenever possible. It seemed that Jungkook was also quick to catch onto this little crush, the room suddenly feeling colder as he glared daggers at Namjoon. Without directing any attention to the already obvious mood shift, you hit at Jungkooks leg under the table to snap him out of it, mouthing a quick “relax” before your friends noticed. 

“Hey Jungkook are you okay?” you heard Aiko ask, clearly noticing the shift in his mood.

“He’s just shy,” you spoke up before he could ruin anything, feeling his gaze from beside you, “a lot of new people to get to know.”

“Oh right sorry about that,” Aiko apologized, “Namjoon, Yoongi, this is Jungkook and he’s apparently a new student here. Jungkook this is Yoongi and Namjoon, Yoongi is also a music major so I’m sure you guys will get along well!” The two older males perked up at the introduction whereas Jungkook sunk into his seat a bit with a very forced smile. 

“Oh a new transfer, how are you enjoying it so far?” Namjoon asked.

“Just fine,” Jungkook muttered through grit teeth, resulting in you hitting his leg. 

“It’s his first day so he’s still getting used to it,” you clarified.

“Ah I see, well if you ever need people to hang out with feel free to come find us,” Namjoon said, “in fact, we’re having a bit of a get together this weekend for Halloween, you should join us!” You were pretty sure you felt your eyes bulging out of your head a little bit when he mentioned the party.

“Oh yeah that reminds me,” Aiko piped up, “Y/N have you decided if you’re coming or not?” 

“Oh umm I don’t know,” you muttered, looking around for any way out of this conversation. Jungkook noticed this and couldn’t help but smirk a bit at your discomfort. 

“Weren’t you just ranting to me about how Halloween was your favorite holiday?” he teased. 

‘I hate you so much Jungkook’ you thought to yourself, “Well yeah but-”

“Come on Y/N, it will be fun,” Namjoon encouraged. His signature dimpled smile had always been a weakness of yours and you found yourself relaxing if even the slightest bit. 

“Alright fine, I guess I have nothing better to do,” you agreed, much to the delight of the others and the distaste of your demonic companion. 

“Well if Y/N is going I suppose I’ll go as well,” Jungkook piped up, making you slouch back to your original position. 

“Awesome we’ll see you guys there then!”

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“You are not wearing that!” you rolled your eyes and pushed your way past Jungkook into your bathroom so you could do your makeup, the male trailing right behind you. His arms were crossed and his eyes narrowed as he took in your outfit. The last minute costume that you and Aiko had agreed on was a witch, though a bit of a more sexy witch at that. The costume was a long black velvet dress with purple lace accents all over it, a low cut neckline with lace you could use to either loosen or tighten it and a slit at the bottom that exposed your leg. The witch hat had the same purple lace accents with a curtain that partially covered your eyes and gave a very mysterious look. To top off the outfit you were also wearing fishnet thigh highs and just a slight heel to make yourself taller. You thought the outfit looked adorable on you, but Jungkook clearly had other ideas. “Seriously Y/N there is no way in hell I am letting you go anywhere in that,” he whined as he watched you do your makeup. 

“Oh shut up, what are you my father?” you hissed as you focused on your eyeshadow, “who are you to tell me what I can and can’t wear?” From your view in the mirror, you could see his eyes darken which concerned you just a bit. In all the time you had been together you had never seen Jungkook genuinely upset and you had to admit you were a bit worried of what would happen if you pushed him. Still, he was the one who pushed this stupid get together on you and now he was whining because he didn’t like your outfit which kind of pissed you off. What right did this man have to control anything about you?

“In case you’ve forgotten you are bonded to me!” he reminded through grit teeth, “you belong to me and yet you won’t even give me the time of day half the damn time! Yet here you are now dressing up in a teasing outfit and showing off to other guys, it’s like you want to mess with me.” You groaned and slammed your makeup brush down as you turned to face him. 

“So what if I’m bonded to you huh? I made it very clear from the beginning that I do not like you or this arrangement and you chose to stick around anyways. Stop acting like you own me or that I owe anything to you when we both know the ritual that night was an accident!” you snapped, walking up to Jungkook and poking his chest to emphasize your point. 

Jungkook didn’t even flinch as you yelled at him, giving you no reaction despite the evident shift in his aura. His stiffness intimidated you more than you were willing to admit and you suddenly felt unsure of yourself. Before you could move away though his hand was reaching up to grab your outstretched wrist, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough that you could feel it. He took a deep breath and leaned down so the two of you were eye level, making you stiffen as you could practically feel the anger radiating off of him. “Do you know how hard I have tried to be patient with you?” he muttered. His voice was monotone but you could briefly hear an echo to it, a growl almost that was a giveaway to the calm facade he was showing. You tried to say something but found you were frozen in your spot, unable to even open your mouth. “No no you’ve said enough, it’s my turn now,” he taunted as he read your thoughts again, “accident or not you made the blood pact that brought me here you know? You can’t pretend you didn’t do it on your own free will either because you and I both know that you weren’t forced to participate. You sold yourself to receive eternal love and partnership and that’s what I’m here for, you gave yourself to me and you also refuse to give yourself to me and I don’t get it.” He finally let go of you but you still remained in your spot as he walked back a few steps, not looking at you as he reached under his collar and grabbed the amulet. With a firm tug the chain snapped and hung around his hand as he inspected the vial for a moment, almost in disgust. It was then that you seemed to find your voice as you weakly called out to him. 

“Jungkook I-” he cut you off with a motion of his hand, dangling the necklace in front of his face before turning back to you. 

“If you really want me gone so bad then fine, all you have to do is find a way to destroy or pass on the bond and you’ll never see me again. Choose wisely though, a broken bond can never be repaired no matter how hard you try, and the consequences will follow you to the grave,” he stated, grabbing your hand and dropping the necklace onto it. You looked down at the red gem in your hand, staring at it like a foreign object before looking back up to see the space Jungkook occupied was now empty. Your thumb ran across the gem with a saddened sigh, refusing to look back down at your hand as you slipped it into a little pocket on your dress. You would deal with this whole situation later, but for now you had a party to get to. 

“Hey Y/N you look great!” Daeun greeted you once you finally got to Yoongi's house and located your friend group. The first thing you immediately noticed was that there were a lot more people than you were expecting for what was supposed to be a friends only party. 

“Yeah you look great too,” you said nervously as you glanced around, “but I thought this was supposed to be a small get together?” 

“Yeah we thought so too,” Soyeon agreed, “apparently Yoongi's roommate is pretty popular on campus and wanted to invite his friends so it quickly turned into an actual party.” 

“I see,” you muttered, suddenly feeling very self conscious about being here with all these strangers, “speaking of Yoongi, where is he?” 

“Him and Namjoon ran off to hang out with some of their club buddies, they should hopefully join us soon though, if you plan on staying?” Aiko asked as she could sense your discomfort. 

“I’ll try to stay long enough to at least see them but I don’t know if I can bring myself to stay the whole time,” you admitted. Not only were parties not really your thing but your mind also kept going back to your fight with Jungkook earlier, if you could even call it that. 

“Oh yeah, have you heard from Jungkook by any chance? We haven’t seen him here yet,” Soyeon asked, which made you sigh. 

“No I haven’t, I assumed if anyone knew it would probably be Yoongi or Namjoon since they’re the ones that invited him,” you lied, hoping they wouldn’t pry into why you acted so strange at the mention of Jungkook. Yeah you never really liked him because you were just kind of stuck with him, but the more you thought about it the more you realized he never actually gave you a reason to dislike him. Other than the constant teasing to rile you up and the occasional moment of appearing out of nowhere he acted like any normal roommate would. You had wanted nothing more than to get rid of him but now that you had the chance you were hesitant on actually letting him go. Pulling the amulet out of your pocket, you once again found yourself admiring the gem that bonded you two together as you tried to get your thoughts straight. Perhaps you should just leave the party and go apologize to him?

“Ah Y/N you made it!” turning around you saw an obviously tipsy Namjoon make his way over to your group. He was dressed as a makeshift werewolf, with the cheap fuzzy ears and paws one would find at the dollar store, he even had a tail clipped onto the back of his shirt that swayed as he stumbled his way over to you. You quickly closed your hand to hide the necklace and hid it behind your back as you smiled up at him. 

“Hey Namjoon, looks like you’ve been having fun,” you greeted with a slight smile. He chuckled softly as he moved to sit next to you, almost tripping in the process. 

“Yeah sorry, I didn’t expect this many people to show up but you know we felt bad about turning them away,” he explained, “I’m glad you still came though, you look beautiful.” You felt your face start to heat up and quickly looked away so he wouldn’t see you blushing. 

“Thank you, you don’t look so bad yourself,” you practically whispered so he almost didn’t hear you. 

“Thanks,” Namjoon replied with a chuckle, “this is actually pretty last minute as I may or may not have completely torn my original costume when trying to get it on.” Now it was your turn to laugh as the image ran through your head. 

“I swear you’re more clumsy than I am,” you mused to which he merely shrugged in response. There was a moment of silence between you two, simply staring at the floor as the crowd around you grew louder. Your friends had run off at this point to do who knows what meaning you and Namjoon were basically abandoned in the crowd. It only ended when Namjoon cleared his throat to get your attention. 

“So I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he began, waiting for your signal to continue, “I mean we’ve been close for a while now and I’m pretty sure you feel the same way I do but, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go get dinner with me one night after class?” It felt like time had frozen as you looked at Namjoon in shock. This was a moment you had been waiting for since as long as you could remember and yet, your heart didn’t flutter like you felt it would. In fact, you were more focused on the way the amulet in your hand suddenly felt so hot you were worried it would burn into your skin yet you couldn’t move. 

“Wow Namjoon I don’t know what to say,” you stuttered out, “I mean…” 

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asked, “do you not feel the same way?”

“Yes I mean no I mean, I don’t know,” you groaned, “I thought I did but…I don’t know I’m really confused right now and…”

“There’s someone else isn't there?” Namjoon asked, and trying as hard as he was to hide it you could hear the hurt in his voice. You honestly didn’t know how to respond, part of you wanted to say that there was but the other part of you that still wasn’t sure. Not even an hour ago you hated Jungkook's existence and suddenly now he was the only person you could think of? Honestly you should have been locked up in a mental hospital for how quickly you changed your mind on these things.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” the voice of the very man you were just thinking of spoke up for you. You almost thought your mind was playing tricks on you until you turned around and saw Jungkook standing behind you. He was still in his demon form but since it was a Halloween party no one seemed to bat an eye at his appearance. 

“Jungkook?” you questioned, “when did you get here?”

“I’ve been looking for you all night, looks like I came just in time though,” Jungkook mumbled as he glared daggers at Namjoon. The man in question seemed to get the hint and quickly excused himself, standing and dusting off his pants with a nervous cough.

“Right sorry I’ll leave you guys too it, I’ll see you in class Y/N,” he stuttered out, tripping over himself in his haste to leave the conversation. Jungkook merely scoffed and flipped his hair out of his eye before taking the seat next to you that had been previously occupied, though he refused to look at you. You blinked a few times in shock before awkwardly clearing your throat. 

“What are you doing here? I thought you were mad at me?” you asked. 

“You called me here,” Jungkook replied, “or are you going to tell me that was also an accident?” You were about to ask what he meant when you remembered you were still holding the amulet behind you back. Pulling your hand back to rest in your lap, you opened your palm to see it looked the same but it was still warm. Is that why it heated up when Namjoon was talking to you? “You were thinking about me, I can sense it from a million miles away, just like how I can feel your emotions so I know when you’re hurt or uncomfortable,” Jungkook explained, finally turning to look at you. You nodded silently as you tossed the necklace around in your palm before reaching out to hand it to him. 

“Here, take it back,” you clearly caught him off guard as he stared at you in shock, making you shrug, “I think I owe you an apology, I judged you too quickly instead of trying to open up to you. This doesn’t mean I accept being bound to you but I don’t want to get rid of you.” Jungkook chuckled softly before reaching out and grabbing the amulet from you, securing it back around his neck with a satisfied smile.

“It’s a start in the right direction so I’ll accept it for now,” he mused with another chuckle, “but I won’t settle on that for long.”

“If you say so,” you brushed him off while looking around, “can we go home though? I don’t think I want to stay at this party any longer.” 

“I thought you would never ask,” Jungkook said with a smirk, “here take my hand, we’ll take a shortcut.” You looked at him confused but grabbed his hand anyways, the party slowly faded away in an odd blur before returning back to show you sitting in your apartment living room. “I told you I have quite a few tricks up my sleeve,” Jungkook hummed when he saw how confused you were. 

“Noted,” you whispered in a daze as you slowly stood up and looked around the living room. It was then that you noticed a very odd and sweet scent coming from the kitchen. Turning your head, you began to make your way over there, only to be stopped by a frantic Jungkook appearing in front of you. 

“Uhh hey let’s not go into the kitchen right now,” he urged.

“What? Why not?” you asked as you tried to peek around him.

“Trust me, just don’t!” now you were even more curious, dashing around Jungkook and running into the kitchen before he had a chance to react, “Y/N wait!” You slid to a stop and gasped as you realized where the smell was coming from. Your counter and small dining table were covered in a mess of baking ingredients and what looked to be tossed out batters for something. The sweet smell you quickly realized was chocolate as evident by the cocoa powder and color of the batters. It was a complete disaster but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on that as you turned to look at Jungkook.

“What’s all this?” you asked. You swore you almost saw the demon blush as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well I wanted to try to cheer you up after what happened earlier and I remember you raving about this stupid chocolate raspberry candy or something like that so I thought why not try to make a cake for you,” he explained, “granted I don’t know how baking works so I didn’t realize it would be this hard, but I think I at least got one right.” He walked past you and over to the counter where there was a singular cake laying on a cooling rack, not even iced yet and it looked like it hadn’t been there long. From the looks of things Jungkook had been doing this for a while and dropped what he was doing when you summoned him. “I have no idea how it tastes so you can’t judge me too hard for this but here,” Jungkook said, pulling off a little chunk of the cake and offering it to you. You cocked your head to the side briefly before moving closer and taking a bite, groaning softly as the flavor flooded your mouth. It was a bit more sour than you were expecting so he probably used a bit too much raspberry but it was still really good for a first try. 

“It’s really good, but really you mean to tell me you’ve never baked before?” you questioned, still with some of the cake in your mouth. Jungkook wasn’t really paying attention to that though, hyper focused on the way you had groaned at the taste and the way your lips wrapped around his finger briefly. It was such a simple thing you probably didn’t notice, but it had the demon reacting in ways he wasn’t sure he wanted. 

“Is it really that good?” he asked after a moment, grabbing a piece for himself with a shrug, “I mean it’s okay I guess, better than the other ones for sure.” 

“They can’t be that bad,” you replied obliviously as you walked over to one of the bowls, dipping your finger in the batter and sucking it off, “this one is pretty good.” Jungkook felt his eye twitch as your actions continued, watching you dip your finger into the batter again and repeat the process. It was then that you took notice of his little shift, noticing the way his eyes darkened and his tongue ran over his lips as he watched you. Normally that kind of look would have you running the opposite direction but something about it on Jungkook was rather attractive. It gave you a mini confidence boost and before you could think you found yourself reaching for another bowl, this time making a show of loudly sucking on your fingers and moaning at the taste of chocolate. “I think I like this one even better though, it’s nice and sweet,” you teased with a wink. Jungkook quickly caught on to your little game and smirked at you as he leaned against the counter. 

“You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?” he challenged, the tone of his voice causing you to shudder involuntarily. There was a new rough edge to it you never heard before, almost like he was growling as he spoke to you. 

“No idea what you’re talking about, I’m just enjoying a little treat,” you continued with your teasing. He raised an eyebrow at you before humming and grabbing the last bowl, swirling the batter around with the tip of his finger before dipping two in and walking over to you. 

“Surely you need to be fair and try them all then, right?” he mused as he lifted his fingers to your lips. One of his fingers brushed your bottom lip just enough to smear some of the cake batter onto it before you were eagerly opening your mouth and sucking both in. Jungkook could barely hold back from groaning as he felt your tongue wrap around his fingers, keeping a straight face as you glanced up at him. “There you go, good girl,” he teased as he pulled his fingers out, purposefully dragging them against your lips so that the remaining batter smeared against them. “Opps,” he teased with a dark chuckle, “guess I left a bit of a mess huh? Why don’t you let me get that for you.” Before you could respond you found yourself pinned against the wall as he crashed his lips against yours. Jungkook was demanding from the beginning, keeping you pinned with his body, one hand tangled in your hair while the other gripped your thigh. You tried weakly to fight for dominance for a few seconds before giving in and letting him have complete control, sighing into the kiss and grabbing onto his arms desperately. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

As badly as he wanted this to escalate, Jungkook stayed like that for a few moments, merely kissing you while playing with your hair and keeping you pinned. It was teasing and you both knew it, but Jungkook needed you to want him just as much as he did you. This was the moment he had been wanting the past month so he knew he could be patient. Even when the faint taste of the chocolate raspberry dessert faded, you two remained in that position, only pulling away when he felt you needed to breathe. You panted as you looked up at him, still desperately gripping onto you as you felt like you would lose your balance if you let him go. 

“Wow,” you whispered out of breath, making him chuckle a bit. 

“What do you think Y/N?” he asked, stroking your cheek playfully, “ready for an even better treat?” Instead of responding verbally, you answered him by pulling him back down into another kiss, catching him off guard momentarily. You took advantage of your power to explore him more, biting at his bottom lip and running your hands across his body. Jungkook groaned softly and let you do what you wanted for a minute before grabbing your thighs and lifting you up, not breaking the kiss as he carried you into your bedroom. You gasped softly as he laid you down as softly as possible, hovering over you as his kisses trailed from your lips to your neck. You moaned softly and tossed your head back as he began softly nibbling at your neck, occasionally sucking harder to leave a mark. His fingers ghosted across your body, barely touching you as he trailed his hand down your thigh. His touch was burning and left you desperate for more of him, quickly getting irritated by the slow and gentle movements. 

“Jungkook, more please,” you breathed out, feeling him smirk against your neck.

“Be patient my little witch,” he cooed, “I want to take things slow for our first time.” You groaned in annoyance, reaching up to tug at his hair. Jungkook hissed at the action which made you giggle as he moved to look up at you. 

“What if I don’t want you to take things slow huh?” you challenged, “you do want me, right?”

“More than you will ever know, which is why I want to savor this,” Jungkook muttered as he reached up to remove your hand from him. He readjusted so he was pinning both your hands to your side, straddling your hips as he gazed down at you. His new position had you squirming a bit to escape his eyes but he didn’t even budge, easily holding you down. “Now are you going to behave or are we going to be doing this the hard way?” he asked. You paused for a moment before giggling and as you finally looked up at him. 

“What a powerful love demon like you wanting to take things slow? What I’m hearing is that you just can’t handle it.” You watched his eyes darken and his lips curl into what almost looked like a snarl, making you bite your lip and look away again. 

“Oh no no you don’t get to be shy now you brat,” Jungkook hissed as he let go of one of your hands to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You locked eyes with Jungkook and gasped as his hand went from your chin to your throat, squeezing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure. “You asked for it so you can’t take it back now,” he whispered, leaning down so your lips were almost touching, “your safeword is raspberry, if you say or think that word I will stop okay?” You did your best to nod despite his hands on your throat which made him shake his head, “Words Y/N, I need to hear you.”

“Yes!” you gasped out, making Jungkook smile and peck your lips softly. 

“Oh and one more thing,” he continued, letting go of your throat to trail his finger down to the neckline of your dress, “if you even think about cumming without my permission you will regret it doll.” With that he wasted no time in ripping the dress off of you, the force pulling you off the bed a bit before his strength shredded the fabric, exposing your body to him. Because of the way the dress fit you, you had decided not to wear a bra so you were left in just your panties and fishnets. You almost swore you heard Jungkook purr as he took in the sight of your body. “Wow no bra? You are a dirty girl aren’t you?” he hummed. 

“I just bought that dress,” you whined, trying to ignore the warmth spreading in your body from his gaze. Jungkook clicked his tongue in mock annoyance, moving his hands to roughly fondle your breasts. You gasped and arched your back into his hands which made him smirk. 

“I’ll buy you a new one if you’re that worried about it,” he mumbled, “but for now I’m much more interested in exploring my new territory.” You opened your mouth to bite back that you weren’t his but he beat you to it by squeezing your breasts again, two of his fingers teasingly pinching your nipple and making you gasp. 

“If I were you I’d lose the attitude,” he warned, “that is, if you want any chance of walking right tomorrow.” You moaned softly as he lowered his head, trailing kisses down your neck and chest before taking your nipple into his mouth. Jungkook started out with gentle sucks before slowly rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. He repeated this process for a moment then switched to the other one, chuckling as he heard you gasp softly. 

“I,” you tried speaking, pausing for a moment as you felt his hand grip your thigh again, “I can handle it, do your worst?” He paused his actions to look up at you questioningly, huffing when you returned his gaze with a look of defiance. 

“If you say so,” he hummed, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, “don’t say I didn’t warn you though.” You didn’t have time to react before he was grabbing your hips and pulling you down, adjusting so his head was between your thighs. You squirmed a bit as you felt his breath on your core, warm and teasing as he exhaled sharply. “I’ve barely even touched you and I can already tell you’re soaked,” he teased, running a finger up to the waistline of your fishnets. You squirmed more and whimpered as he leaned forward to place kisses against you through your panties, poking his tongue out just enough for you to feel it. “These tights are super sexy also,” he mused, “I may just have to keep them on you.” 

“Will you stop teasing and just do something already?” you whined. One of your hands reached down to tug at his horn as you bucked your hips, desperate for any kind of friction. Jungkook growed lowly, slapping your thigh just hard enough for you to feel it. 

“So impatient,” he hissed, “I shouldn’t be touching you at all until you behave.” You pouted for a moment, worried he was going to leave you there, until you felt his finger hook under your tights and panties. “It’s a shame I have to ruin these but oh well, since I’m so nice I’ll give you what you want.” With a quick tug the thin fabric was ripping and joining the remains of your dress, exposing your core to the cold air. Jungkook hummed softly before leaning down and licking at your slit, giving a few kitten licks before diving in and sucking at your clit. You moaned loudly and tightened your grip on his horn, grabbing the sheets with your free hand as you rocked your hips against his face. Jungkook responded by moaning against you, sucking harder and pinning your leg back with one of his hands. Your thighs shook and threatened to close around him but he kept you pinned with his weight, moving one hand and slipping a finger into you slowly. He slowly pumped his finger inside of you for a few moments before adding another, quickening the pace and curling his fingers. You gasped and jolted as his fingers brushed against that soft spot inside of you, Jungkook smirking and angling his fingers to abuse that spot. All you could do was throw your head back and grip onto him tighter as endless moans fell from your mouth, struggling to catch your breath as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. Before you could tell Jungkook you were close however, he was pulling away and looking up at you with a devilish grin. 

“Remember what I said sweetheart,” he mused, pressing his fingers to your lips and humming as you took them into your mouth, “you don’t get to finish until I say so.” He let you suck on his fingers for a second, letting you taste yourself as your orgasm faded away. Only when he saw you relax did he move, wiping his fingers on his pants, “The only way you are cumming tonight is on my dick like a good girl, think you can do that?” You were too out of breath to respond so you simply nodded, though it seemed to be enough of a response for him. Jungkook leaned back and, with a snap of his fingers, stripped himself of his clothing and exposed himself to you for the first time. Your eyes widened as you sat up to get a better look at the gorgeous man in front of you. You knew Jungkook was built but you never realized just how defined his muscles really were, the tattoos on his arms trailed all the way up and across his toned chest which was otherwise unmarked. Your eyes moved down until they landed on his erection, surprisingly human for what you imagined if not longer than average. Still, it was beautiful and you bit your lip at the sight of him. “Like what you see?” Jungkook teased, chuckling when you dumbly nodded, “good, because you don’t get to see it much longer. Now be a good girl and present yourself to me, on your hands and knees.” You quickly obliged, getting on your knees and lowering your top half to expose yourself to him. Jungkook hummed in approval and positioned himself behind you, gripping your hips and lining himself up with your entrance. 

“You’re not a virgin right?” he asked suddenly, making you giggle as you shook your head no, “good.” With that he leaned forward and buried himself into you, groaning and stilling as he bottomed out. You moaned at the stretch and buried your head into the sheets, trying to catch your breath and adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. Jungkook gave you a moment to adjust, starting to thrust slowly as he felt you relax. “You are so tight you’re practically swallowing me,” he groaned as his pace increased. You could only moan and grip at the sheets to keep you grounded, the position hiding your face and muffling your moans which he didn’t seem to like very much. A low growl left him and you felt him tug roughly at your hair, pulling your head up and exposing your neck to him. “Don’t you dare hide from me, let me hear you,” he whispered, going even faster and burying his head into your neck. You moaned louder at the pace and the feeling of him sucking at your neck hard enough that you knew there would be marks in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, enjoying the feeling of him fucking into you like his life depended on it. His position also meant you heard every animalistic growl and groan that left him, not normally something you would enjoy but from him it was undeniably sexy. “You’re mine you know,” he groaned, “you belong to me, and only me, all mine. No one will get in between us ever again after tonight, everyone will know that you are mine, I’ll make sure of it.” He bit at a sensitive spot under your ear which made you gasp and close your eyes, knowing you wouldn’t be able to last much longer. 

“Jungkook I,” you tried to speak up but found you were unable to finish your sentence. 

“I know baby I know,” he murmured, “go ahead and cum for me.” His command was all you needed, letting out a silent cry as you finally reached your release. Jungkook was not far behind, stilling inside of you and growling as he finished inside of you. 

ღ ღ ღ ღ ღ

Jungkook quickly but carefully pulled out of you and flipped your position so you were both laying down with you on his chest. His finger traced delicate patterns on your arm as you snuggled up against him, trying to catch your breath. 

“I wasn’t too rough right?” he asked after a moment. 

“Not at all,” you assured with a soft smile, “it was actually really hot seeing you all possessive.” You felt his chest rumble beneath you as he chuckled. 

“Good to know, I’ll remember that for next time, if you want there to be a next time that is?” you stayed silent for a moment as you thought about it, trying to process how quickly everything seemed to change in the span of a night. Hell, not even a few hours before you were loathing Jungkook's existence and now you were here naked and curled up against him. The more you thought about it, the more you realized you really needed to assess your current relationship with the demon beside you. 

“You’ll be bound to me for a while so I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” you said, realizing you had been quiet for too long. It probably wasn’t the answer he wanted, but he didn’t oppose it either. Instead you felt him pull you closer and place a gentle kiss on your head. 

“I’ll clean everything up in a minute, you go ahead and rest and we’ll talk about everything in the morning, deal?” You didn’t need to be told twice, closing your eyes and letting his warmth lull you to sleep. You still had a lot to think about, but maybe being bonded to Jungkook wasn’t so bad after all.

This is one of three promised fics that will be uploaded within the next week as I do my best to catch up! 

Any and all interaction and feedback on this work is greatly appreciated! 

#horrorwoodcafe22 #bts x reader #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #demon jungkook #bts #bts smut #BTS au #bts demon au #demon au #jungkook x reader smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop au

[space-man2]

Climax and Regress I: The Party

Mason and Elliot lived most of their lives under the sheltered roof of their conservative parents. It wasn't surprising that they would thoroughly enjoy their first taste of independence during their first year in college. But amid this simple freedom, they were drawn to a party game where you jump from body to body, with the goal of cumming at the given time limit. Win, and you move on to the next younger body. Last long and last young, and you gain everyone's cheers. As freshmen eager to embrace their newfound freedom, Elliot and Mason aimed to please the crowd by playing with the game.

"Hurry it up," Mason looked back and motioned for Elliot to speed up. Their first college frat party was a few blocks away, and Mason couldn't contain his excitement. He can't stop hopping in joy as he eagerly waits for Elliot to catch up to him. They have dreamed of being independent from their parents since they were kids. They wanted to have fun without worrying about curfews, restrictions, and whatever strict shit religious parents impose on their kids. And finally! After eighteen years of living under their parent's roof, they were finally independent college students who could do anything they wanted.

"Relax. The party isn't going anywhere, and we're half an hour early before it starts." Elliot adjusted his bean hat and snuggled it close. The October chill was colder this year. He couldn't stop shivering despite the thick bundle of clothes. He rubbed his hands and hurried close to Mason.

"What if they are already there?" Mason said. He realized Elliot wouldn't match his speed, so he slowed to his turtle pace. "If they aren't, we could help my cousin Tommy set up the place. We can learn how he sets up parties. And maybe. Just maybe. We could set up our own parties in the future!"

"Our dorm is too small to host the parties. And I doubt my aunt would let us party in her flat. However, I have to agree that we have to get to the party faster. It's getting colder all of a sudden." Elliot sped his strides to Mason's satisfaction. They reached Tommy's frat house within moments, and the place was already alive with strobing lights and booming beats. It was the sole property on the end of a cul-de-sac, which meant they could be as loud as they wanted. There was no fear of getting visited by the police.

Ten minutes before the assigned time, the yard was already filled with students from various campuses around the city. Tommy is well known for being a social butterfly and for his colorful, eccentric personality. It also helped that he was the sole son of a tech mogul in Silicon Valley. Elliot didn't expect that Mason's family, who lived in the Bible Belt their whole lives, had a relative that raked billions in the tech business. Mason didn't dive that deep into that part of his family, so Elliot didn't pry further.

They entered the place like two wet chicks lost in something they hadn't seen before. They skimmed through the drunks and those lost in the revelry. One guy with messy blonde hair grabbed Elliot by the shoulders and gave him one long, cheap booze-tasting kiss. Elliot's eyes widened in surprise before pushing the offender immediately.

"What the fuck, man?" Elliot said. He looked at the boy. He had good looks to him, not going to lie. If you discount the unkempt hair, the smell of death from drinking gallons of beer so early in the part, and the unfocused stare in those droopy eyes, you could see a blonde boy who won several Prom Prince awards in a row. Elliot felt flattered by the kiss, but the way it was done infuriated him. He gave the boy one sharp look before the boy tumbled back and fell onto the couch, unconscious from alcohol.

"I have to apologize for Daniel," Elliot and Mason felt a hand on their back. They turned to look and saw the host of the party, Tommy. "I told him to tone down on the booze, but he wouldn't listen. He was still confused after playing with the porcelain dick."

"Tommy!" Mason opened his arms and hugged his cousin. "How's it going, bro?"

"Never better. How are you doing? How are your parents?"

"Elliot and I are adjusting well. We've had a lot of firsts, which are fun. First party. First kiss." Mason made one cheeky look at Elliot before darting to Tommy. "We're going to have our first drinks since we were born. Maybe we'll be as blackout drunk as your friend and kiss your other friends. As for my parents, they're still cunts."

Tommy laughed, his head reeled back and tipping off the paper umbrella from his Martini. "That they are! I knew you weren't as stuck up as your parents. Come! Since this is your first party, I'll introduce you to the points of interest."

Tommy led them by the hand and waded through the noise and crowd. They went to the kitchen, where partygoers lined up through the makeshift open bar tended by another student. Since Tommy was the host, he simply walked to the bartender and requested two Screwdrivers for Mason and Elliot. Elliot hesitated to drink, and Mason didn't drink until his friend did. Once Tommy assured them that it was just vodka and orange juice, both took hesitant sips before they got used to the hint of alcohol in the taste. While they drank, they went outside, where half-naked men and ladies swam in the glowing pool and bubbling jacuzzi. The pool was filled, so swimming was out of the question. And they weren't out of their minds to swim under such cold weather.

They went inside again to this long hallway filled with stone statues, rusting armor, and various weird shit Tommy had collected over the years. Mason hadn't seen the collection, but he knew Tommy splurged his father's money on peculiar artifacts he found on the hundreds of vacations he had worldwide. Tommy once brought a book made of human leather during their Christmas Eve dinner. And that was a disaster, considering he was brought in under a radical Catholic household.

After their look-see at Mason's collection, their last destination was the living room. More guests were in this part of the house. They were huddled around a man with closed eyes, sitting alone on a sofa. He was holding something white and long in his hand. Upon a closer look, they realized it was a disembodied porcelain dick. A USB wire is attached to the part where the dick should connect to the groin if it was part of a statue. The wire connects to a TV screen showing the first-person perspective of a Middle Eastern man jerking off in front of his reflection in the mirror.

"Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum!" The crowd chanted in unison. The man on the television grunted and moaned as his deft fingers slid smoothly over his cock. While this happened, the unconscious man holding the porcelain dick grunted too. Strangely, the unconscious man grunted together with the man on the television.

"What the fuck is this?" Elliot asked. He stared at the sexy Middle Eastern model in his mid-30s jerk off his sweaty dick. He saw how the man smelled his armpits while he did it.

"Do you guys want the short story? Or the long one?" Elliot and Mason weren't in a hurry, so they chose the long one. "I bought that porcelain dick from a collector in Greece. I think I did. I don't know. There was a lot of shouting and gunshots involved. Disembodied marble dicks are a dime a dozen in Europe, but something enthralled me to procure that thing. I can't put it into words, but it felt like it whispered to me."

"Whispered into you?" Mason couldn't believe what he was hearing. "A porcelain dick whispered in your ear to buy and grope it?"

"That was exactly what it said to me. I bought it, stuffed it into my carry-on baggage, and went home to get it. The next thing I know. I woke up in this fat, old geezer's body with my hand wrapped around his shriveled cock."

"And here I thought a porcelain cock whispering into your brain wasn't weird enough," Elliot said. Mason snickered to Tommy's annoyance. But Tommy continued with his story.

"There was a countdown on the corner of my vision, and I thought death awaited me when it reached zero. So I did the sensible thing and jerked off with the wrinkled dick on my palm. I jerked off like my life depended on it. At the time, I thought it was. It didn't take long for me to stain that man's bed with cum. God! I didn't expect people living in retirement homes could cum that much. I came so hard that I lost consciousness. The next thing I know, I was in another man's body, holding another man's dick, with a shorter countdown in my vision. That's when I realized it was a game."

"A game?" Elliot and Mason asked.

"Yes, a game! The rules are this. Grope that dick thrice and close your eyes. You'll wake up in another man's body with a countdown on your vision. You must cum before the time runs out. If you win, you move on to the next younger body. If you lose," Tommy trailed his words and filled them with suspense. Elliot expected to get stuck in the body, while Mason expected death. "If you lose, then nothing happens. You're kicked out, and you could do it again."

It was a fantastic party story, but it sounded more like a prank to them. That's what they do at parties, right? Prank guests for cheap laughs. It seemed so elaborate, considering many people were in on it. From the crowd chanting "cum," to the unconscious jock cumming his pants while his possessed avatar in Korea tried to cum on a condo balcony. Elliot and Mason laughed together, expecting Tommy to say it was a prank. It turned from hilarious laughter to nervous chuckles when they saw Tommy's unchanging face.

"Wait, it's real?" Mason asked.

It was a fantastic party story, but it sounded more like a prank to them. That's what they do at parties, right? Prank guests for cheap laughs. It seemed so elaborate, considering many people were in on it. From the crowd chanting "cum," to the unconscious jock cumming his pants while his possessed avatar in Korea tried to cum on a condo balcony. Elliot and Mason laughed together, expecting Tommy to say it was a prank. It turned from hilarious laughter to nervous chuckles when they saw Tommy's unchanging face.

"Wait, it's real?" Mason asked. "Don't tell me you're not kidding."

Tommy took one final swig of his Martini before setting the cocktail glass aside. "I know I've embellished most of my stories in the past, but this one is real. Hell. I've made it into a party game, and it's a smash hit. Half the people here don't even know what this party's about. They just want to play with that porcelain dick. Not that I mind. It's entertaining; it's fun knowing most of the chumps who played the game haven't come close to my high score."

Tommy pointed to a whiteboard beside the TV screen. It lists the players' names, and a column labeled 'Age' is beside it. Tommy's name was in first place with a circled number 25 on the side. It was followed by others whose scores were above 30. By the looks of it, you rank higher by scoring a lower age. Elliot was going to ask for clarification, but it seemed Tommy had already noticed what he was about to say.

"I'll explain the rules of this game so you two chumps can understand and join. Do you know how the dick works, right? Grope it thrice, and your mind is sent on a body mid-sex or mid-jerk. Your goal was to cum under the time limit given to you. It's usually your body's age multiplied by three. If you're a 70-year-old geriatric coot, you'd have 210 seconds to jerk off that decrepit rod. If you do manage to whack off old pop's cock, you'll be sent to the next younger body. Sometimes, you regress by five years or twenty if you're lucky. But that also means your time limit is decreased. The goal is to be as young as possible. That number there means the youngest I've possessed was 25 years old. It was a cute virgin lab technician getting sucked off by his gay professor. God. I wished I could bust that nut in that professor's mouth. But there are rules to this, and I'll list each one, so listen. I am not going to tell them again.

One. You could never let go of your dick. Your hand shouldn't stop holding the shaft if you're jerking off. If it's in someone's mouth or asshole, you better keep that motherfucker in place. If you let go, you'll be given three seconds before you lose the game.

Two. We can see everything you do through that TV screen, but you cannot see us. If you're in trouble in the body you found yourself in, you're on your own.

Three. Don't talk about the porcelain dick whenever you're possessing someone. The dick doesn't like that. Kevin talked about it when he took over a prisoner's body. The next thing he knew, his timer went through the roof, and the prisonmates and guards formed a line to fuck him like they were hypnotized.

Four. Have fun, put on a good show, and try to beat the high score. Because it seemed our friend Joshua wasn't going to push below 35."

Mason and Elliot couldn't utter a response after hearing everything Tommy said. But he sounded sure of his words, and the crowd cheering for ejaculation supported Tommy's story. If this was a prank, it was way fucking well-made. The two looked on the screen hooked to the porcelain cock. It seemed that Joshua possessed the body of a man in black overalls stuck in the bank's vault. Elliot could assume what situation he was in. The man he took over was a robber left behind by his companions. Stuck in the vault, the criminal spent the last moments of his life outside prison by jerking off. Three stress and tension don't make good companions for cumming. Joshua was in bad luck when he possessed that body. When the time hit zero, Tommy pulled Joshua out of the seat and told the others it was his turn. Only it wasn't him playing this time. He looked at Elliot and motioned him to grab the porcelain dick.

Mason and Elliot couldn't utter a response after hearing everything Tommy said. But he sounded sure of his words, and the crowd cheering for ejaculation supported Tommy's story. If this was a prank, it was way fucking well-made. The two looked on the screen hooked to the porcelain cock. It seemed that Joshua possessed the body of a man in black overalls stuck in the bank's vault. Elliot could assume what situation he was in. The man he took over was a robber left behind by his companions. Stuck in the vault, the criminal spent the last moments of his life outside prison by jerking off. Three stress and tension don't make good companions for cumming. Joshua was in bad luck when he possessed that body. When the time hit zero, Tommy pulled Joshua out of the seat and told the others it was his turn. Only it wasn't him playing this time. He looked at Elliot and motioned him to grab the porcelain dick.

"You try. Then it's Mason, after." Tommy grabbed Elliot by the wrist and pushed him onto the dark sofa with questionable white stains. "I am getting the gist that you're more depraved than my cousin. You'll be putting on a good show, won't you?"

"I- I don't know. I don't think I'm ready." Tommy grabbed his hand and put it on the porcelain dick. Some warmth remained from the last user.

"Most of these people weren't ready when they did their first time. Don't worry, I'll guide you." Tommy laid his palm over Elliot's hand and made him stroke the smooth porcelain shaft. Elliot couldn't put it into words, but he felt energy surge and terminate in his head with each caress of his finger. "Close your eyes. It is not a guarantee, but it helps if you think of the body you want to possess. And don't forget to breathe."

Elliot closed his eyes for the final stroke. Tommy let go of his hand and allowed him to do the final one before sending his soul to heaven knows where. As his index left the tip, a massive force dragged his fingers back, making a wrap around the shaft. The sudden jerk surprised Elliot, and he tried reeling his hand away. But he could not. The force was too strong, and there was this feeling of being ripped from his body. It felt like his body was stuck in a glue trap, and a mysterious hand peeled him away. When it did, he lost all sensation of his body. There was nothing. It was a dark, silent, odorless, tasteless, and tactless existence. There were no winds nor howling gales, yet he could feel the force dragging him across time and space.

Then Elliot's senses returned all at once. He could feel the air dancing on his skin, a sweat drop trailing from his brow, his chest heaved from the lack of air, and his cock was on fire. He didn't need to open his eyes to confirm. He was somewhere else, in someone's body, stealing the pleasures they were about to feel.

~Chapter 1/8~

•·················•·················•

Chapters:

✅ The Game Mason and Elliot listen to Tommy as he explains the rules. It’s simple. Possess a body. Jerk off under the time limit. Succeed, and you move on to the next younger body.

🔒🔞 Gerald Hughes (USA)  65-year-old With tears in his eyes, a son pleads to his father. “If you want your name in the will, better suck your father’s cock, boy,” Gerald says before his body is possessed by a college student from the opposite seaboard. #Inheritance

🔒🔞 Eli Hall (Britain) 59-year-old Tired after a month away from home, Eli could scarcely contain the excitement of coming home to his lover hungry for his cock. That was until he was possessed, and his long-awaited blowjob was stolen from him #Old Couple

🔒🔞 Rui Liang (China) 48-year-old Elliot finds himself in the body of a Chinese Triad member while in the middle of his revenge against rival triads. It was up to him to fulfill his body’s thirst for vengeance. #Mafia

✅ Francisco “Paco” Perez (Spain) 33-year-old There’s only darkness and pleasure inside the DHC-6 floating in the middle of the Balearic Sea. Elliot finds himself in the arms of a larger man, who knows how to please his body. #Sex on Sea

🔒🔞 Yusuke Watanabe (Japan) 29-year-old Yusuke hasn’t returned to his home in a year, and his younger brother was eager to partake in the pleasures they once had for each other. Elliot finds himself in the middle of this intimate interaction #Brotherly Love

🔒🔞 Charles Foster (USA) 24-year-old Aboard the USS Vanguard, sleep continues to elude Charles. That’s when his squadmate suggested he jack off to tire out his body. Too bad for him, he is unfortunate to be possessed by someone more eager to jack off his cock at the expense of his reputation among his squadmates. #Military

🔒🔞 Party’s End Elliot becomes closer to Mason in way he could never imagine.

•·················•·················• Join my Discord Server and read 190+ SFW and NSFW shorts and stories! Join now by clicking here! Paid subscribers could also read my stories on Blogspot. Read them by clicking here.

#Body Possession #Male Possession #Possession #Male Body Possession #Age Regression #Age Progression #Male Age Progression #Male Age Regression

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 1

plasmadonor!Joel x f!reader

You’re the star phlebotomist at the local plasma center, and the job has been increasingly mundane as of late… until a new and handsome Texan donor comes to the center and changes that, and the rest your life.

Series Masterlist

Series warnings:

AU, M/F, Age gap (20 years)-reader’s YOB is 1995 (purely coincidental lolol), eventual SMUT, blood, needles, & plasma talk (nothing too graphic, I promise!), a bit of blasphemy, criticism of religion, mentions of death, divorce, angst, fluffity fluff fluff, alcohol consumption, violence.  Individual chapters will have specific warnings.

FYI – this work contains criticisms of religion and reader is atheist/agnostic.  Feel free to scroll if this offends you.  If you decide to read, remember that even if you are religious, this is not an attack on you, but rather ideology.  And remember the tenets of religious freedom.  Everyone has the right to believe – and NOT to believe – in the things you do.

Plasma Center UrbanDict:

Stick = venipuncture

PR = permanent rejection, aka permanent deferral

Reception = where donors have vitals taken to determine if they are suitable to donate

Donor Floor = where the magic happens, baby! Where donation occurs, aka sticks with big 17G needles

 Processing = where units of plasma are sampled and frozen

This is my first ever fic! Excited to share all of it with you. I'm new to posting this kind of stuff on Tumblr, so please forgive rookie formatting and whatnot. Hope you enjoy! As of 03/10/24, I have 6 chapters written - I'm juggling my writing with finishing my MPH degree, so my schedule might be a little spotty until mid-May.

Chapter 1

Chapter warnings: blood, needles, & plasma talk, light violence.

WC: 3.7k

Friday, October 15th | 0755

You turn into the parking lot at the plasma center, a little later than your usual 10 minutes early.  Your shift is at 8, so you don’t have much time to walk to the center, clock in, grab your coat and face shield and get to work.  Thankfully, the parking lot is just across the street.  As soon as you step out of your car, downtown Omaha greets you with the familiar scents of cigarette smoke and fall air, along with the sounds of the city buses and commuters chugging along.

It’s a nice morning.  Living in Nebraska means you get to experience the peaks and valleys of all four seasons, and during fall, this means the leaves of what few trees are in the downtown area are painted lovely hues of orange, yellow, and even red – if you’re lucky enough to find a scarlet or pin oak tree.

The plasma center parking lot is shared with employees and donors, and it’s packed this morning.  Not a great sign.  You walk up to the back employee entrance and punch in the code.  The keypad beeps and lights up green and you pull open the ages-old, heavy-as-hell door and make your way to the break room.

The donor waiting area is just outside the break room door, and you can tell by how full it is that it’s going to be a long day, confirming your earlier suspicions in the parking lot.  Somebody definitely called in, you think.  Great.  Punching in the same code as before, you enter the break room, throw your stuff in your locker, and clock in.

As soon as you’re on the Donor Floor, donned with your white lab coat, blue nitrile gloves, and face shield, one of your best phlebotomists and good friend Keri approaches, looking flustered as hell.

“Jesus, thank fuck you’re here,” she sighs, taking a deep breath and raising her eyebrows at you.  She smooths back her frizzy hair and sets down her face shield on the counter next to you.

“Are we short today, or did corporate send out some bonus texts to half of Omaha?” you say, checking the Donor Queue on the computer.  15 people waiting, average wait time of 43 minutes.  Fucking clean up time, I guess.

“Two call-outs, but they’re newbies, so it wouldn’t have mattered, really,” she says.  “Definite yes on the bonus texts.  Regulars are all pissed off because they didn’t get any.”  You roll your eyes and sigh.  To get more donors in, the company you work for has been sending bonus texts to donors that haven’t been in in a while, which really ticks off the regular, twice-a-week donors.  It’s all about meeting that liters budget.

“Where do you need me?  Breaks need to be sent?” you ask her.  You’re the lead phlebotomist, but you always check in with whoever opened before you make any decisions.  Keri nods.  “Send Blake to break, he’s got an open section now and we’ve got to get these wait times down.”  You grab your mobile phlebotomy device and head that way.

Each phlebotomist can have a maximum of 6 donors in their section.  You see Blake cleaning up the machine from his last disconnect, leaving you an empty section.  “You can head to break, I’ll take over here,” you say, helping him wipe down the now-empty donor bed.

“Thanks… really happy that you’re here.  It’s been a shit show today,” he says, walking away from the section toward the break room.  You groan and head up to the front near the waiting area, grab a chart, and start climbing the mountain.

Thursday, October 15th | 1230

The morning turned out to be an absolute disaster.  You quickly filled up your section once you sent Blake to break, apologizing to every donor you sat for the wait times.  Most were understanding.  There were a few that gave you an eye roll or a shrug.  A few left the center, not wanting to be late for work.  The fall is generally a busy time at the center, with people seeking extra money for football tailgates and games, college students needing extra money for just about everything, and parents stocking up early on holiday savings.

Thankfully, Keri, you, and the rest of the morning Donor Floor crew knocked the Queue down to 3 donors and wait times down to 10 minutes.  Once the last morning break was done, they came over and sent you to your lunch.  Delighted, you took off your sweaty coat and hung it up, washed your hands at the sink by the coat rack, and headed to the break room.

Before you’re able to punch in the door code, a deep, velvety voice stops you.

“Uh, miss?  Can you point me in the right direction?”

You turn and look in the direction of the voice and see a taller man with dark, silvery-streaked curly hair, tanned skin and pensive brown eyes staring at you.  He’s donning a red flannel that squeezes his broad shoulders and ropy arm muscles, and dark wash Levi’s that have the outline of his wallet imprinted in the front right pocket.  He’s definitely a blue-collar guy, not unlike a lot of the current donors.  Must be a new donor, you think.  Damn, he looks good.  You feel a little zap in your chest, not unlike the fingerstick donors get during screening.

“Hi!  Are you a new donor?”  You ask, turning on your customer service voice in hopes of calming your nerves.  You step back from the door and walk toward him.  He’s got a small white paper slip in hand, which tells you he needs his veins checked, so he must be new.

“Yes ma’am, need someone ‘ta look at my veins.  Been here before, but it’s been a long time,” he says, watching you approach him and giving you the once-over.  Twice-over.  Your pulse quickens.  His voice is like icing, dripping with a sweet Southern accent and mushing your insides.  You smile and take the paper from him, hoping that you aren’t blushing.

“Roll up your sleeves for me and let’s take a look,” you say, watching him roll up the sleeves of his red flannel.  He’s got thick, veiny forearms that are tanned and covered with freckles.  He wears a watch on his left wrist that you assume hasn’t been removed in years, judging by the pure white skin peeking underneath.  His hands are big and scarred.  Definitely works with his hands, you think.  He has a small, circle-shaped scar on his right arm near the venipuncture site, so he was telling the truth about donating plasma before.  You grab a tourniquet hanging on the cabinet near the chart area, wrap it on his upper arm, and feel.  His veins are huge and muscular, and you realize you didn’t need the tourniquet in the first place.  Rookie mistake.

“Guess I really don’t need this,” you say, removing the tourniquet and feeling his ropy veins with your index finger.  His skin is warm under your clammy finger.  He chuckles.  “Heard that one before,” he says.  You laugh and make eye contact with him, noticing the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and his salt and pepper beard.  His gaze is amiable and filled with something else you can’t quite pinpoint, and your stomach twists.  You look away before you can decipher it.

“I don’t think you’ll have any issues with the stick,” you say, and he laughs.  “Are you hydrated?  Had a good meal in the last hour or two?” You ask, writing your name on the vein check slip and circling “Pass.”  You see the name Joel Miller written at the top.

“Yes ma’am, I do a lot of workin’ outside and with my hands, so I know better,” he says, confirming your earlier assumption.  His voice is sending a wave of tingles from your ears to your neck, and you feel goosebumps start to erupt in their pathway.

“Good man, Joel,” you say, noticing him perk up at you saying his name, “Take this back to the front desk and we’ll get you processed as quickly as we can.”  He nods, gives you a handsome-as-fuck lopsided smile, and walks back to the front.  You head back to the break room and turn to glance at him once more to find that he's already looking at you.  Fuck, you think, looking back at the door.  Don’t need a hot donor making me feel nervous like this.  He’s older than you, but he might be the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen.  You can only imagine how homely you look, clad in your scrubs and sweaty from the morning hustle and bustle.

You see every part of humanity at your job: young and old, foreign and domestic, all races and ethnicities, handsome and near homeless.  There have been a few men that have caught your eye, and a few that you’ve met up with outside of the center, but none like this one.  As tedious and mundane as the job can be, it’s the people that make it exciting, especially attractive ones.  Well, hopefully he passes screening so I can see him on the Donor Floor, you think, contemplating what you’re going to get for lunch in the short time that you have.

Thursday, October 15th | 1430

Your break went by too fast.  You decided on some fast-food place just across the street from the center.  It’s good and cheap, but you know the greasy food is going to put you in a late-afternoon lull.  Oh well.  After you got back, the lobby was still relatively empty, so you started working on doing the monthly machine cleanings in the meantime.

The plasmapheresis machines are complicated and like everything else in the plasma center, they come with lots of rules and regulations.  You’re a seasoned pro, though, so the cleaning and documentation are a breeze.  You’re heading over to clean the last of the machines in the third row of the Donor Floor when you see a familiar, handsome head of dark salt-and-pepper curls walk behind Keri to one of the donor beds in the first row.  He smiles at you as he lies on the donor bed, and you feel your cheeks heat and curl up into a smile of their own.  Get a fucking grip.  You’re relieved that Keri is taking care of him, because you’re nervous just seeing him in your work area.  You can only imagine how shaky your hands would be with a needle if you were the one sticking him.

While cleaning the machines in the third row, you periodically look over at Joel and Keri.  Keri is great with the donors, and it’s evident when you see Joel laughing with her.  Each time you look up, he’s either already looking at you or looks up right after you do.  You try to play it off like you’re scanning over all the donors, making sure everything is going as it should, but the sweat sheen forming on your face and neck betray you.

You see the light on his machine turn green, indicating he’s been stuck and is running smoothly.  You imagine what it would’ve been like to feel his veins again, feeling his warm, tan skin underneath your fingers… and underneath other things, like—

“Oh my god, that man is such a charmer… and asked about you at least three times,” Keri states, snapping you out of your horny daydream.  Your eyes widen and you turn so he can’t see your face from where he’s seated.

“Shhh!  Keep your voice down!”  You hiss, making both of you giggle.  “What was he saying?”

“Oh, nothing much, just asking what the cute girl that checked his veins was doing all the way over here,” she smirks.  “He used to donate here over 25 years ago when the center first opened up.  Can you believe he’s that old?  He does NOT look like it.”  Odd, you think.  He didn’t sound like he was from here when you spoke to him earlier.  Wait, did he say I was cute?  Blushing at his remark about your appearance, you remember the scar on his arm and think he’s probably telling the truth.  “Wow, he looks good.  How old is he?”  Keri pulls him up on her mobile phlebotomy handheld and you see he was born in 1975.  Damn.  20 years older than you.

Before you and Keri can gush further about Joel, the front door slams shut, echoing throughout the center and catching everyone off-guard.  You watch as one of the younger regular donors, Cedric, storms past Reception and the donor waiting area over to the Donor Floor front desk, near where you checked Joel’s veins earlier.  He practically spits your name, his brows pinched in a rage.

“Cedric, is everything alright?”  You ask, approaching the front desk slowly.  The once-noisy Donor Floor is quiet, save for the quiet whirring and clicking of the machines.  Donors not wearing headphones are anxiously watching the front desk.  You give Cedric the once-over and notice that his arm wrap is soaked with blood, and some of it has gotten on his white shirt and shorts and the floor around him.  First rule of donating: Never wear white to a plasma center, dude.

“Does it fucking look alright?  My arm wasn’t wrapped right and now I have blood everywhere!”  he fumes.  The entire Donor Floor is watching, including Joel and poor Blake, who must’ve disconnected Cedric.  Blake approaches tentatively, tail between his legs, but you put your hand up to him, saying I’ll take care of this.  Blake gives you a thankful nod and tiptoes back to his section.

“Cedric, I’m sorry about that.  Come over to the sink and I’ll rewrap it for you,” you say, putting a fresh pair of gloves on.  “Keri, can you clean up the blood spots with bleach, please?”  You ask.  She nods and grabs a Clorox bottle near the front desk, putting her face shield on and quickly walking around Cedric to search for the path of blood droplets.  Cedric raises his voice again.

“Not good enough.  I need that kid fired for his incompetence!” he points aggressively at Blake, flinging some blood droplets on the arm of your coat and on the front desk.

“Everybody makes mistakes, Cedric.  Blake is a great employee.  We can fix this.  Let’s get you cleaned up, and maybe we can compensate you a little extra on your next donation,” you offer.  But Cedric isn’t having it.  He rips off the arm wrap and gauze and throws them at you while screaming expletives.  The bloodied wrap nearly hits your face shield.  Oh, hell no.  He’s a long-term donor, so he’s probably clean, but it’s too close for comfort.

“Blake, call Trina and call the cops.  Get this guy out of here.  Cedric, don’t ever come back to this place,” you calmly instruct, walking backwards to find a biohazard container a safe distance from Cedric, never turning away from him.  Trina, your manager, doesn’t put up with this kind of stuff and will make sure he’s permanently deferred.

“Fuck you, bitch!”  Cedric yells, sprinting out of the center with two fingers on his free hand holding his venipuncture site, some blood dripping underneath.  Once the front door slams shut, you turn around and take off all your PPE and toss it in the biohazard container, saving your nametag and pen.  Frustrated and tired, you walk to the sink to wash your hands.  Keri and Trina approach you.

“You alright, hon?” Trina asks.  She’s a good manager, always looking out for her employees.  She used to work on the Donor Floor, so she’s no stranger to these kinds of mishaps.  Tensions can be hefty in this area – some donors are desperate for money, some fear needles more than death itself, and some are just grumps.  Phlebotomists usually get the brunt of it.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just need to cool off.  I told Blake to call the cops.”  She nods.

“Go ahead.  When the police get here, they’ll want your statement, so I’ll come find you then… I’ll put in the PR now,” she says, giving your arm a supportive squeeze before walking back toward the offices.  You give her a pained smile and look to Keri, equally concerned as Trina.  “Take your afternoon break, love.  I’ll handle everything else,” she says.  “Thanks, Ker.  I’m gonna step in the freezer to cool off and then I’ll go.”  She nods.  You head toward Processing, located at the opposite end of the center.  Processing has two giant walk-in freezers that always maintain temps of -40ºC – great for keeping fresh plasma frozen solid and an instant cool down.

You step in one of the freezers, shutting the heavy door behind you.  You walk over to the fans and stand underneath.  The sweat on your neck and back quickly freezes in its downward track, leaving behind a sting that could soon turn to frostbite.  It doesn’t take long to cool off here, and anybody staying in for longer than a minute is supposed to put on a heavy coat, gloves, and a ski mask.  It’s a popular spot for blistering summer days and after heated interactions like this.  Satisfied with the pink blooming on your fingers and the crunch of your frozen, sweaty hair, you step out of the freezer and make your way outside for your break.

Once at the picnic table at the outdoor employee break area, you do a quick scan for Cedric.  You can see the trails of blood drops leading to and from his car, and an empty space where his car must’ve been parked.  Heaving a sigh of relief, you plop down at the table and massage your temples.  Fuck… glad this day is almost over.

“Sweetheart, you alright?” A soothing, Southern voice rings in your ear and you look up, seeing Joel approach from his truck.  He says your name, surprising you.  Keri must’ve told him it while she was going through the process with him.

You take this moment to return the once-over he gave you earlier.  Twice-over.  His sleeves are still rolled up and you can see his arm wrap.  His jeans crinkle at the hip with each step, his strong, toned quads flexing as each foot contacts the pavement.  You can only imagine what he looks like from behind.  His cowboy boots are worn, the leather cracking around the toes.  He’s probably the type to wear a pair until they crumble to bits.  He walks with a quiet bravado, taking long, smooth strides until he reaches you at the table.

You’ve no doubt you look exhausted.  Though your sweat has frozen, you can feel how frizzy your hair is, especially around your face.  Your eyes sting with fatigue and the skin underneath your eyelids tug downward.  Your throat feels dry and tight, like you might cry soon.  He must notice because the look in his eyes morphs from concern to anger.

“Hi, Joel,” you state, forcing a smile.  “I’m okay.  Not my first rodeo,” you wink, giving him a sarcastic “yee-haw” motion.  He laughs, but his eyes betray him, still showing anger.

“Mind if I sit?” He motions to the spot across from you.

“No, go ahead, but the cops are on their way and who knows if Cedric will be back,” you caution him.  He waves you off.

“That fuckin’ kid don’t scare me, and I saw everythin’ anyway.  I can talk to the cops if you ain’t comfortable,” he says.  He puts his hands on the backs of yours, and you feel another zap in your chest like you did when you first saw him earlier.  You notice now that he doesn’t have a wedding ring.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to.  I’m well versed in this department,” you say, feeling the tears reaching their boiling point.  You do everything you can to keep them in, but one betrays you and falls down your cheek.  Angry that you’re crying in front of Joel, you try to move your hand out from underneath his to wipe the tear, but he beats you to it.

“It’s okay, darlin’.  You did the right thing, stickin’ up for your people,” he soothes, his thumb wiping your tear from your face.  He moves his hand to cup your jaw and swipes his thumb gently over your cheek.  His angry eyes softened back to concerned.

For what feels like an eternity, the two of you stare at each other, exchanging more communication nonverbally than words could ever.  He’s looking at each of your eyes back and forth, and you feel yourself start to get embarrassed under his hot stare.  You try to turn your head away from his gaze, but his hand stops you.  “You’re alright, darlin’, got nothin’ to be ashamed of here,” he says, reading your mind.  You bring your hand up from the table to gently grasp his arm as a sign of appreciation.  His gaze follows and he swallows loudly.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a genuine, close-lipped smile.  His eyes move to your lips and then quickly dart back to your eyes, like you caught him doing something forbidden.  He removes his hands and stands up, walking over to your side.  He offers a hand to help you up and you accept, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Sorry your first visit back here was so crazy,” you say, and he laughs.  “Hopefully next time it’s not so… exciting.”  He moves his hand up to your shoulder and gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it.  A tingle rips up your spine.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be.”  He gives you that same look that he did earlier, the one where you couldn’t quite figure out what it meant.  This time, though, you think you know exactly what it means.  Your stomach somersaults.

“I’ll see you soon, darlin’.  Hopefully your day gets better,” he says, turning to walk toward his truck.  Once he gets to the driver’s side door, he turns to look at you again and pauses.  You stand and stare at him, wanting to say something in return, but too overwhelmed by all your emotions.  He smiles and gets in the truck, starting it and driving off while watching you with a small wave.  You smile as he leaves.

Fuck.

Next Chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #centrifugation #pedro pascal fandom

[nellywrisource]

A writer’s guide to art and civil construction: worldbuilding insights – #1 Early Christian art (Part I)

In this guide, which delves into the history of art and civil construction, my aim is to explore the cultural and anthropological factors that influenced the emergence of particular art forms within their respective historical contexts. The goal is to inspire and offer practical insights for those engaged in worldbuilding, especially in crafting art and urban environments that resonate with their chosen settings. Throughout the guide, I will analyze various historical periods from a cultural and historical perspective, providing inspiration rather than prescriptive worldbuilding advice. It's worth noting that the focus will primarily be on the Mediterranean and Europe (I'm Italian ✨ so my academic studies focus on Italy and its surroundings), spanning from the end of the ancient age to the contemporary age.

The emergence of stylistic elements in early Christian art is fascinating because it inspires envisioning the characteristics of religious buildings in a situation where two coexisting religions, one significantly older, shape the cultural landscape.

Diachronic excursus

Let's briefly summarize the historical context surrounding early Christian art to better understand the culture and motivations behind the stylistic choices in urban and rural settings, as well as the care or neglect of these environments. 

Two key points to focus on for understanding this historical reality through our chosen lens are:

Spread of Christianity

Germanic invasions (which we'll discuss in the next post)

The spread — not birth — of Christianity occurred gradually, beginning around the time of the Edict of Milan in 313 AD, issued by Constantine, which declared Christianity a religio licita, meaning that it granted freedom of worship. It was further established as the “state religion” with the Edict of Thessalonica by Theodosius I in 380, mandating worship.

While Constantine had political motives for issuing this edict (yes, the legend about Constantine’s vision is just that), our focus lies on the socio-cultural context in which an emperor favored a religion amidst a predominantly pagan Roman aristocracy.

Origins of early Christian art

In its early stages, before Christianity became the state religion, Constantine, who oversaw the construction of the first Christian places of worship, took into account the pagan sensitivities of the aristocracy. As a result, these early buildings exhibited the following characteristics:

Located outside the city center, where pagan temples were typically found (often situated beyond the city walls, as was the case in Rome);

Featuring a simple exterior, often constructed with common brick (laterizio) and lacking elaborate decorations;

Boasting monumental dimensions to accommodate the public liturgy of Christianity, inspired by the Last Supper, as well as reflecting Roman appreciation for grandeur.

The decision to depart from classical norms stylistically served both to avoid offending the aristocracy and to visually distinguish Christian structures symbolically from classical temples.

Types of buildings

Basilica

The basilica, which predates Christianity, emerged in Italy following the Second Punic War in the first half of the 3rd century BC. Originally serving administrative functions, it featured a rectangular layout with three naves (side corridors) and two apses (semicircular protrusions) on either side, with the entrance situated along the longer side.

The architectural design of basilicas was chosen for its spacious layout, although modifications were made to suit the needs of Christian worship. Unlike their original purpose, which varied, Christian basilicas typically adopted a longitudinal plan with three or five naves. They featured an entrance on one of the shorter sides, leading to a single apse opposite the entrance.

This adaptation involved repurposing buildings originally intended for other functions, driven primarily by practical considerations. An important detail regarding the structural elements is seen in the narthex and the quadriportico.

Narthex: a sort of rectangular entrance area.

Quadriportico: a large external four-sided portico attached to the entrance wall.

Both spaces were used to accommodate catechumens (the unbaptized) and penitents¹. Initially, the quadriportico fulfilled this role, but it was gradually replaced by the narthex between the 6th and 8th centuries.

This transition was prompted by changes in baptismal practices. As the custom of adult baptism declined, it became apparent that many individuals were already baptized, rendering the extensive space for catechumens unnecessary. Consequently, the need for a large quadriportico diminished.

The narthex, too, began to decline in importance from the 7th century onward, reflecting a decrease in the number of unbaptized individuals attending services.

Another fascinating aspect illustrating the synthesis of paganism, Roman art, and Christianity is evident in the architectural feature known as the triumphal arch. Typically semicircular, the arch serves as a division between the central nave and either the presbyterial area.

The architectural concept of the basilica’s arch finds its origins in the Roman triumphal arch, a grand structure with one or more openings (fornix) traditionally erected to commemorate military victories. In Christianity, this symbol was reimagined to signify Jesus' triumph over evil and death. Moreover, the arch served a dual purpose as both a symbolic gateway between the space reserved for worshipers and that designated for the clergy (the presbyterial zone).

Now, I won't dive into discussing every single architectural detail of basilicas or the liturgical furnishings (although, if anyone desires, they can ask, and I'll gladly provide a glossary). Instead, let's briefly look at the different floor plans a basilica can have:

Latin cross: this design is longitudinal, with a shorter horizontal section intersected by a transept, either about ¾ along its length (immissa) or closer to the apse (commissa or tau).

Greek cross: here the transept intersects at the center, with arms of equal length to the nave. This layout was more prevalent in the Eastern tradition.

Circiform: this is a distinctive basilica design used for cemeteries, as well as for hosting specific masses like funeral banquets and an annual mass in honor of the titular saint's martyrdom. It lacks a transept and features a ring corridor intended for burials.

Baptistery

The baptistery was a centrally planned building², often octagonal, specifically designed for conducting baptisms, with the baptismal font positioned at its center. 

Was traditionally distinct from the main body of the church, it was commonly situated adjacent to or in front of the main facade, especially until the Gothic period, notably in Italy.

The octagonal design held symbolic significance; eight represented an eschatological number, closely linked with the Resurrection of Christ, who rose eight days after his entry into Jerusalem. Thus, the octagon came to symbolize the concept of eternal life conferred upon the faithful through baptism.

This architectural feature reflects influence from Roman traditions, drawing inspiration from thermal buildings, particularly the frigidarium, which the Romans referred to as a baptisterium (derived from the Greek, meaning “place where one receives enlightenment”). Hence, the origin of the term can be traced back to this context.

Martyrium

Another centrally planned building (circular or polygonal) prevalent in the 4th century, the martyrium (from the Greek “witness”) was erected on the site of a martyrdom or over the tomb of a martyr.

Over time, they also began to serve as repositories for the remains of martyrs, often located at the center of the building. The martyrium's origins lie in the cult of martyrs, which itself evolved from the more common pagan reverence for the dead. Its architectural design was influenced by classical mausoleums, grand tombs traditionally used to house the remains of significant individuals.

Images, iconography, and iconology

The influence of architecture extends to imagery as well; Christianity originally spread through pagan iconography and symbolism. Art served as a means of proselytism. Why? Because classical art had long been used to convey the divine, and Christianity also drew inspiration from Roman culture in this aspect. 

Even the artistic techniques bore similarities to those of the pagans:

Sculpture, as evidenced by sarcophagi.

Mosaics, widely employed for adorning basilicas (which in Roman art were mainly used for floors but eventually shifted to the apse — see subsection on the hierarchy of light).

It can be argued that from this classical influence emerged the conceptual link between wealth, splendor, and divine grandeur; gold symbolized divine light (indeed, numerous mosaics featured golden backgrounds) — a motif that would resonate throughout the Middle Ages — reminiscent of the portrayal of the deified emperor in the declining centuries of the Roman Empire. Pagan iconographies were thus reinterpreted, with scenes of apotheosis transformed into representations of the Ascension, pastoral imagery adapted to depict the Good Shepherd, and even the apostles portrayed akin to philosophers.

A clearer Christianization and a distancing from pagan iconography will be seen as we move forward in time, in the upcoming posts. If you're interested in a post focused on the various iconographies and their resemantization, lemme know!

Acheropite images

An intriguing outcome of the fusion between ancient cultural practices and evolving concepts of imagery is the phenomenon of “acheropite images”.

It's essential to understand that early Christians adhered closely to Jewish traditions, which forbade the creation of divine images to prevent the risk of idolatry. Moreover, due to the threat of persecution, early Christians concealed references to their faith in the catacombs through subtle allusions understood only by fellow believers, akin to a form of coded language.

The incorporation of images into Christianity, particularly in the Western world, occurred gradually, as apprehension about inadvertently creating idols spawned legends surrounding acheropite images - icons purportedly “not made by human hands”, but possessing a “miraculous” origin. These images were believed to be not products of human craftsmanship, but rather “revealed” through divine intervention, thereby attaining status as revered relics (e.g., the Shroud of Turin, the Madonna of Guadalupe, etc).

The hierarchy of light

Why do mosaics transition from the floors to the apse and, more broadly, to the walls?

We first notice this transition at the onset of the 5th century, exemplified by the apse mosaic of the Basilica of Santa Pudenziana in Rome. The driving force behind this change is light, or more precisely, the hierarchy of light. This hierarchy derives from the earlier discussed concept: the translation of divine light into the symbolism of gold and actual illumination within a basilica.

Light holds great significance in this context. It is strategically channeled through windows, particularly illuminating the apse (the sanctuary area closest to God, traditionally restricted to the clergy) and the central nave, with the side naves receiving less light. Mosaics, meticulously crafted with tesserae to reflect and enhance light, are placed in the apse to intensify this effect, emphasizing the hierarchical importance of light in this central space.

¹Penitents: in the ancient and medieval Christianity, penitents were faithful individuals who, after committing serious sins post-baptism, sought forgiveness from God. They publicly assumed a specific status within the community. ²Central plan: buildings where all parts are organized around a center are termed as having a central plan. This plan can take the form of a square, a circle, an octagon, or other regular polygons, such as a Greek cross. The centrality of space is usually emphasized by a dome.

This blog is supported through tips here on Tumblr. If you’d like to support me, please consider giving a tip.

#writing advice #writing help #writing reference #writing tips #worldbuilding through art #worldbuilding insights #worldbuilding tips #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #creative writing #writing #writeblr

[dresden-syndrome]

Political offender classification: Class 1

"Class 1 offense is a minor isolated societally harmful act which undermines or has the possibility to undermine the authority of the East European Socialist Union government and its social or political order.

Class 1 offenders are otherwise loyal citizens committing stated offenses during peacetime without a deliberate anti-socialist intent or attitude.

Most class 1 offenses result from lack of ideology and law education among offenders themselves as well as the general population, insufficient measures of political control and poor quality of life."

Notes: 

Can be applied to minors aged 14 and older 

Cannot be applied in martial law times (with exceptions, mostly to minors age 14-17)

Applies for isolated & unorganized offenses only

Class 1 units can be also used for questioning without convicting in cases of suspicion (like being out past curfew without permission at emergency times)

Offenses: 

Non-reporting of less serious political crimes 

Illegal region border crossing (from April 1960)

Failure to register/unregistered living

Religious propaganda 

Demoralizing rumors & casual propaganda

Evasion of labor duties 

Evasion of political duties 

Pro-capitalist side leaning

Contribution to class 2 crimes

 Penalties: 

Disciplinary warning

Job rank/position demotion 

Disciplinary note in the Party membership card

Corrective labor for up to 6 months 

Protection status: 

All constitutional rights are legally and actually protected

Further restrictions: 

Political literacy courses after detention

No further restrictions applied

Life prospects: 

Back to freedom after detention 

Back to normal life after serving penalty 

Rehabilitation possibility: 

Fully rehabilitated after finishing courses 

Class promotion/demotion possibility: 

Promotion (charge dropping) with recovery in rank/position 

Demotion to class 2 for repeat offenders 

Demotion to class 2 if aggravating circumstances or further offenses are found during investigation/detention

Prisoner use methods: 

Cheap unskilled labor within the offender’s registered location 

Cheap labor in the offender’s skill field within their registered location 

May be used as voluntary unofficial informants

Legal documentation: 

No changes in personal documents 

A note in State Security archive personal files

Picture: Václav Veverka and Šarka Němcová on the second month of political literacy courses. PUR Czechoslovakia, 1961.

Art tag: @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg @onlywhump @whumpedydump @whumpthefifth @monarchthefirst @sunshiline-writes @project-xiii

Lore dump tag: @sweet-lost-husbands

#not so much whump but why not #whump #whump community #whumpblr #historical whump #totalitarian whump #whump oc #whumpee #oc art

[queersatanic]

The Satanic Temple’s owner Cevin Soling really hates public schools

Newly discovered passages from 2014’s “The Student Resistance Handbook” by Satanic Temple co-owner Cevin “Malcolm Jarry” Soling show that using “After School Satan” clubs to disrupt education isn’t a bug or a side effect of them; it’s the whole point.

Religious Accommodations

A religious belief must be sincerely held and “must occupy the same place in life of the [believer] as [would] orthodox belief in God.” In other words, so long as you sincerely believe something and that belief represents a significant part of your outlook, it can be deemed a religious belief under the law. This means you can create your own religion, or announce that you are part of a religious organization that supports individual autonomy and sovereignty such as Satanism. The benefits depend on what state you live in. Schools are designed not to treat people as individuals. The more students engage in asserting their individual religious beliefs and demand appropriate concessions, the harder it is for schools to operate.

Holidays

Some states that have enacted various forms of the Religious Freedom Restoration Act (RFRA) permit certain rights under the banner of religious freedom. For instance, in Texas students are excused from school to observe religious holy days. If you are a Satanist and live in Texas, you can insist on taking Halloween off. Obviously, you want to exploit this judiciously, but just doing this once will upset and disturb the administration because it invites others to do the same.

Hair Length and Dress Code

Religious exemptions can be requested to avoid having to adhere to school requirements for hair length and school uniforms. Be aware that this could involve being transferred to a campus that does not have these requirements.

Page 65 of “The Student Resistance Handbook” by Cevin Soling (2014)

Religious Symbols

Religious symbols are permitted and wearing a Satanic pentagram and other forms of Satanic jewelry is legally protected even though many school districts inappropriately ban such apparel.

Curriculum

In some states, you may be permitted to not attend classes or participate in activities that conflict with your religious beliefs by providing a written statement to your teacher that states a conflict exists. Remember, religious beliefs do not have to be rational or even self-consistent—just deeply held convictions. Please note that you cannot be exempt from an entire semester and you cannot be exempt from graduation requirements including those for advancing from one grade to another.

Page 66 of “The Student Resistance Handbook” by Cevin Soling (2014)

Form a Club

In most schools, students have great leeway in forming clubs of their choosing. Form a club that will likely offend the faculty. Some suggestions:

• Club for the Practice of Witchcraft and Dark Arts

• Club for the Worshipers of Satan

• Banned Book Club

• Advanced Studies in Contemporary Pornography Club

• End Compulsory Schooling Club

• Students for a Lower Drinking Age Club

• Students for the Legalization of Heroin Club

• Students for a Sensible School Budget by Lowering Faculty Wages Club

• Death Metal and Gangsta Rap Appreciation Club

Page 70 of “The Student Resistance Handbook” by Cevin Soling (2014)

Moreover, we’re still being sued by The Satanic Temple in federal court and now King County Superior Court.

TST is also still suing Newsweek and its reporter (but maybe not her anymore!) for writing about us. In addition, the Temple is now suing a TikToker in Texas for talking about our case. Check the pinned post for more.

#the satanic temple #after school satan club #Cevin Soling #Malcolm Jarry #Cevin Soling really hates public schools #satanic temple #Satanism #public schools

[lets-try-some-writing]

Christmas and Culture Clashes

The bots have a tendency to take things the wrong way or seriously misunderstand human customs due to their Cybertronian world views. Hence when Christmas came around and the children made it very clear that it must be celebrated, the bots tried to understand the holiday and participate. With varying levels of success as one might guess.

Optimus

All his research and diligent study on the subject of Christmas left Optimus more confused than anything else. A whole quarter of humanity celebrates Christmas as a way to remember the birth of their deity/savior/religious figure. Meanwhile another large swath of humanity celebrates the holiday because of some human named St. Nickolas, who apparently goes out every year is a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer to deliver presents to the entire world.

Not being all that sure about the big red fat man travelling the globe in under 24 hours, Optimus threw in the towel and opted to instead work with what he could feasibly understand. This being the religious aspect of the holiday.

Optimus did not, and does not have any interest in the human religious figure beyond Christ's historical significance and how his life affected earth's development. However, not wanting to offend anyone unintentionally, Optimus decided to stick to the general religious value associated with Christmas instead of the human religious symbol. And so, relying on the old Cybertronian cultural norms regarding foreign practices, namely offering something something similar from ones own culture as a way of showing acceptance and trust. He quickly went about creating gifts that embodied the ideals of the holiday, the ideals being rebirth, salvation, and blessings.

He spent the whole month of December dutifully working on gifts for the children. And when Christmas finally came and the children gathered at the base to celebrate with the bots, Optimus was prepared. Very proud of himself for figuring out a way to work around the cultural differences to the best of his ability, Optimus presented his handiwork. The children however were left rather scarred as they gazed upon the murals he had prepared for them.

The first mural, gifted to Jack, represented Solus Prime's death at the hands of Megatronous Prime and the creation of the well in rather vivid detail. It was meant to symbolize rebirth and the beginning of new life, sort of like how the human Savior died and returned to life, however the very detailed images of Solus's... rather brutalized corpse earned Optimus a shaky thumbs up. The second mural, gifted to Rafael was similarly graphic, portraying the last battle against the Quintessions with the leading Prime at the time standing proudly on a hill of fallen foes. Much like the first mural it was meant to symbolize salvation, more specifically, freedom from slavery at the hands of their ancient enemies. It too earned Optimus a few strained smiles due to the vivid imagery.

Lastly Optimus gifted Miko a mural which showed Cybertron during it's peak. In his mural mecha smiled and sang praises to Primus for his blessings and the peacefulness of their lives. It was a breath of fresh air for the children and was met far more appreciatively. Optimus, not knowing why the children were hesitant about his first two murals and assuming it was a delayed reaction, beamed and went about Christmas day believing he had positively nailed the whole holiday thing.

Ratchet

Seeing Optimus's efforts to show the human children some pieces of Cybertronian culture through Christmas, Ratchet opted to do the same... in a rather unusual fashion.

He saw images of the Christmas tree and read all about how the trees end up rotting, getting grossness everywhere and being both a pain to gain and get rid of. And so thinking that his gift would be a solution to the problem, Ratchet got out his tools, grinned evilly, and got to work. He also spent a good chunk of the month preparing his "gift". Every single time he looked at it and considered his creation done, he ended up adding something else, slowly but surely deviating from the original design of the Christmas tree until what remained was something not of earth.

The end result was a fantastical sci-fi tree looking thing that could have come straight out of a comic book or another world entirely. It started off looking semi tree like, the trunk of the "tree" being silvery and pulsating with energon veins. However as one looked up it started to become something less understandable. The "tree" branched out into large wire like branches which swayed and regularly shook as electricity flowed across them. The wire branches ended with moving cable things which swayed sort of like a twisted version of leaves, each cable searching out warmth and wrapping around warm things when in contact. And lastly there were bio-lights bulging out of the trunk and wire branches filled with multicolored unidentifiable fluids.

Understandably the children were rather distressed when they saw the Christmas "tree" and the horror movie looking pulsating bio-lights and eerie wire and cabled branches. They nearly had heart attacks when the "tree's" branches wrapped around them and sent static running along their skin. Simply put, the "tree" was not well received. But not wanting to hurt Ratchet's feelings, the children tolerated the "tree" until Christmas was over and praised Ratchet's efforts before sternly proclaiming that the next year they would get the tree.

Bulkhead

Surprisingly it was Bulkhead who was the most normal of the bots when it came to Christmas. However "normal" still tends to be rather out there when compared to the rest of the bots. And so for Christmas, Bulkhead took decorating of all things to the extreme.

Not having the build to handle dainty material like paper to make decorations, Bulkhead instead decided that metal was the way forward. He had some experience in construction and so while sitting at his workbench planning out how he was going to decorate, he took some inspiration from Ratchet's "tree" and planned his decorations to match the theme the medic had unknowingly set. Bulkhead still took into consideration the earth traditions when he began his work, but ultimately he got a little carried away bringing a piece of Cybertron to earth.

The finished product took him weeks of work and the team found it to be a sight to behold. Surrounding Ratchet's "tree" were copper lights handing from the rafters setting a more rustic feel for the Cybertronians present. Decorating the human's platform was a carefully constructed "winter" area. The place where the children's couch and other items usually were was instead replaced with distinctly Cybertronain furniture, scaled to size for the children of course. Surrounding this was a rather ridiculous spread of packing peanuts, a replacement for snow. And throughout the rest of the main part of the base Bulkhead had gone to great pains to replicate the only somewhat winterish looking place on Cybertron, namely the Magnanese Mountains.

When the children saw what he had made they were mostly awed, but also left somewhat uncomfortable due to the overwhelming copper and rust colored decorations alongside Ratchet's "tree". Still the children made sure to praise Bulkhead for his efforts and much like with Ratchet, proclaim their intent to decorate by themselves the coming year.

Agent Fowler still found packing peanuts in the children's space even months after Christmas had passed.

Wheeljack

He was a little late to the party when it came to Christmas. And so having only received the bare bones when it came to information regarding the holiday, Wheeljack turned up to base three days late with items that probably shouldn't be given to children.

The only memo he got about the holiday that actually stuck was the concept of giving gifts. And Wheeljack, a mech constantly looking for excuses to give others weapons, turned up with a huge smile and a very large, very ominous looking crate filled with... something. Optimus and the team tried to put a stop to whatever it was that Wheeljack was attempting, but were unfortunately denied the chance as Wheeljack pulled out the gifts and gave them to the kids before any bot could do anything.

Miko got an alien ray gun, which she promptly fired into the far wall of the base by accident, leaving a sizable melted indent. The gun was confiscated even as Wheeljack and Miko skipped around in joy. The weapon was given back after Ratchet disabled it, that way Miko could still wave it around and even turn it on again if needed while.

Jack got himself a nifty energon blade, one sized down for a creature of his size. Being similar to a switchblade he quickly pocketed it without much thought. It wasn't until weeks later when he pulled out the blade to sharpen a stick that he found out what the heck the blade actually did. He came to base with a charred stick and a glowing knife that Wheeljack simply cackled at the sight of. As one might guess, the blade went through a similar human proofing adjustment by Ratchet before being returned.

As for Rafael, he got himself a small military grade Quintession battle drone. Ratchet nearly pulled a blade on the thing the moment Rafael used his controlled to whirl the drone to life. The drone ended up nearly decapitating the medic, much to Wheeljack's mixed terror and amusement, before it was also confiscated and adjusted for human use.

Arcee

While not all that fond of celebrating a human holiday, Arcee still made an effort to try and be cheery through the creation of holiday attire. Though as a general rule, Cybertronians do not wear clothing of any kind, they are familiar with the concept and occasionally wear capes, magnetized jewelry, and additional cosmetic armor for fancy events.

And so, having some experience in armoring and taking inspiration from the general theme of Christmas and the human attire, Arcee adjusted it to her liking, making some of the traditional human clothing choices for Christmas suitable for Cybertronians. Not only did she craft things for the children, but also for the team, much to the mixed joy and fear of each party respectively.

Optimus received a small red cape and helm ornament that functioned sort of like a crown, being largely gold with blue accents. He accepted the gift happily and attached the ornaments without delay. Ratchet got a broach that read "Doctor of Doom" in Cybertronian, much to the irritation the medic who still put it on despite the light mockery. Bulkhead was given a distinct chest piece made purely for cosmetic purposes but still engraved with runes of protection. And lastly Bumblebee was given a set of bands to wear on his ankles and wrists, the bands of course being a stunning obsidian.

As for the children, it was rather difficult for Arcee to work something out for them but she tried nonetheless. Eventually she settled on small helmets in a stunning red and similarly engraved with runes of protection. However what truly made the children have to stifle their laughter was the little antennae Arcee attached to the sides of the helmets, each were of course being topped with small white balls of cotton to try and meet the Christmas theme.

Bumblebee

Unsurprisingly Bumblebee was all over the idea of Christmas. However seeing the rest of the team merrily working away, Bumblebee wanted to try something the others hadn't considered, that being gingerbread houses.

He was determined to find a way to make a gingerbread house that both bots and humans could consume, and so he spent the whole of December experimenting. Eventually he produced something that could theoretically be eaten by humans and bots alike, at which point he went to town building his "gingerbread house". The end result of his long work was a simple house composed of energon-bread like stuff and similar energon-frosting stuff topped with energon-goodie like things.

Bumblebee was incredibly proud of his creation when he showed it to the team and the children. Both parties came to the conclusion that the eerily glowing structure that looked like it came out of Chernobyl was likely not something that should be consumed. However not wanting to hurt Bumblebee's feelings, Optimus took one for the team and took a bite of the "gingerbread house". Let it be said there are few things that can break Optimus's composure, in fact they can be listed on one hand. However whatever abomination Optimus took a bite of added one more thing to the small list of things that destroy his stoic persona.

He immediately snapped his battle mask in place to hide his horribly disgusted face and shakily giving the piece of "gingerbread house" he had been eating to Ratchet. He muttered something about it being "delicious" with watering optics and a shaky thumbs up before promptly leaving to go retch somewhere private. Ratchet and the team looked at the offending abomination with wide optics and fear before looking to a very pleased Bumblebee. Once again not wanting to ruin the mood of the scout and not wanting the humans to even begin going near the "gingerbread house" Ratchet and the team steeled themselves. Each took a piece of the house and pretended to share it with the children and taking a bite out of it for good measure before giving Bumblebee affirmation through gritted denta.

Not a spark dared to question Optimus's reaction after taking a bite of whatever it was Bumblebee had made. Bumblebee was many things... a baker though? No. Defiantly not.

#maccadam #transformers shenanigans #transformers #transformers prime #optimus prime #arcee #bulkhead #ratchet #bumblebee #wheeljack #tfp kids #christmas #sort of a christmas special i guess? #hope you guys like this #I spent way too long writing this

[wildfeather5002]

Right-wing conservatives keep saying that telling a nonbeliever they're going to hell if they don't 'repent' is totally okay, because "religious people have the right to express their opinions and beliefs even if it offends others".

But if you have the nerve to say eternal damnation is manipulative, abusive and a morally bankrupt concept, conservatives will freak out and accuse you of "going against their freedom of speech".

The amount of hypocrisy among right-wing religious conservatives is fucking nauseating.

#fuck conservatives #vent post #vent tag #internet drama #anti conservative #anti right wing #right wing bullshit #conservative hypocrisy #right wing hypocrisy #anti xtianity #anti christianity #ex religious #tw eternal damnation

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

"You do not have a right, God-given or otherwise, to not be offended. I see lots of things which offend me, but free speech is free speech. Get over it."

-- Richard Dalin

#Richard Dalin #blasphemy #blasphemy laws #offended #offence #religious sentiments #hurting religious sentiments #religion #free speech #freedom of speech #freedom of expression #religion is a mental illness

[transingthoseformers]

OK here are my thoughts on the world building with Megatron insisting on fusion cannon weddings for the bitties.

While Megs is the Champion of Koan, Megatron of Tarn was D-16 long before he was a gladiator and god of war.

So I'm thinking he has some cultural biases from being a Tarnian Miner. And I'd imaging with the danger of the mines and the Functionism very few low caste sparklings had both parents. And they suffered for it. both in terms of being orphaned and lacking legal protections including inheritance rights because their parents weren't permitted to be conjuxed without permission rarely given to miners.

Worse laws came into place that single parent sparklings and sparklings who's parents weren't conjuxed could be taken by the state at any time for any reason under the sun. Clearly non-Forged Sparklings need stable conjuxed families so they could receive the light of Primus not coming from his spark. And Tarn already had a strong taboo about not having a sparkling outside of being conjuxed.

Worse, the right to be conjuxed was something that was slowly being striped from everyone but the elite. The process by Megatron's youth became something you had to pay heavily for. Upper middle cast could still afford it with much saving or borrowing but imagine the cost for the Marriage license instead of being $60 USD the license itself costs the full average price of a wedding $30,000 USD. And the equivalent of a Justice of the Peace wedding cost instead of $120-150 cost $75,000. The lower cast and the lower middle cast are priced out of being able to get conjuxed. For Disposables not only did they need to find the cash, they also needed permission from the one/company who owned their contract and sponsorship/vetting form a Priest of the Thirteen. Said Priest could choose to waive the fee if he felt the applicants were worthy. In theory it's possible but in reality impossible.

All of Prima's Priests have to come from the Priestly Caste. Most of the rest had to as well in practice even if it wasn't forbidden in the holy texts but there is one Priesthood that accepts Mechs outside of the Priestly Cast. Megatronus, god of War only accepts Warriors for Priests. And in Megatron's stint in the Pits of Kaon, some bright spark thought Megatron becoming a fake Priest of Megatronus for publicity would be a great idea, kinda like a preacher gimmick for pro-wrestling. Megatron refused because while he's not overly religious, it gives him bad vibes. Just spiting on the culture of his city and playing into so many stereotypes. Gladiators like all athletes are superstitious. Megatron is able to insist his adamate refusal is to not risk offending his names sake and his city's patron. He doesn't want his streak at the top cursed.

This old Tank, the priest of Megatronus, is nearly offended as Megatron by the idea of presiding over a fake religious ceremony for the Pit. Even if his temple he can't afford to refuse. the Wheels and gears on Meg's head start turning. Being a real priest even of the Fallen would grant him more social clout and freedom of movement. It would also give his nacient Cause a touch more legitimacy.

So when the Priest coldly rises to stalk out, Megatron rises and state he has no intention in taking part in a religiously themed farce, he also has all the qualifications for being an acolyte aspirant to the priesthood which doubles the insult to Tarn and it's patron. Which gets the Priest's attention. Megatron's manager is chased out of his own office while the Priest and Megatron have a very intense talk about Megatron's motivations.

Megs is a silver tonged bastard and the old priest recognized he has a potential brilliant general on his hands. The youngster has given him a chance to maybe eventually put Prima's priesthood in it's place. The manager is being permitted back to his office so the Priest can inform him Megatron is now in training to be a priest of Megatronus and a dispensation is granted for him to do so in Kaon. The Major Rites of course are to be publicly witnessed and broadcast but only in full. This is when Megatron realizes the old mech in front of him is actually the High Priest of Megatronus.

Megatron becomes a priest of Megatronus and is actually, to his embarrassment, the High Priest by both seniority and military rank by the time the cons get to Earth.

So Megatron through a mixture of spite, using the Autobot code against the Autobots(their own laws force them to return the sparkling to their creators or their designated next of kin,) and lingering Tarnish cultural baggage is enforcing you get someone heavy you gotta marry them. It doesn't happen often because sparking is rare any how and baffles are mandatory, but it does happen. Megatron's point on this is absolute. This has resulted in Autobots and Neutrals being taken prisoner so they can "make an honest mech" out of someone, or be "Made an honest mech" if the Deceptacon sparked them up instead. One of the practical reasons why Fraternization is frowned upon by Autobots.

O yes

Let's break tgus down

Makes sense in a dangerous environment growing up Megatron wouldn't see many dual parents and he saw a lot of bullshit, and how this manifests into mandated shotgun weddings

Also I'm biased but a wedding for 30,000 is very ouch imo

This is fascinating because yeah i can totally see this happening in an au, and i can see why it profoundly affected how he wishes to run things

jesus fucking christ megatron as technically priest, technically, is not something i ever expected to read

Megatron:

Megatron: projects childhood onto his faction

Megs is trying, i can see the gears turning and see what he means, but fuck this is a funny way to go about it, that there is a recipe of a person

Like just fucking imagine getting kidnapped and finding out it was because you got someone pregnant, which you didn't know beforehand. Delightful.

This makes me wonder if anyone was actually banking on this in order to marry the love of their live officially looks at kobd

#kobd #maccadam #transformers #g1 Megatron #tf worldbuilding? #just think about knockout and Breakdown concocting an entire plot in order to let Decepticon!knockout marry autobot!breakdown #the twisty logic is fascinating #Megatronus prime #prima

[timeisacephalopod]

The pushback to the term "cultural Christianity" from atheists is real odd to me because, as someone who has been an atheist since 13, only ever went to church a handful of times never with my own family (made a note never to sleep over at that friends house on a Saturday again bc I HATED church it smelled like shit, was boring, pews are uncomfortable as fuck, and the religious people I knew were all wildly misogynistic and I've never been here for being told I was less of a person for being Born Like This), and generally had no actual connection to Christianity in a meaningful way but still only knows Christian mythology, has been steeped in Christian values I had to untangle, and my religious understandings are still deeply Christian.

Like Ive never paid attention to the bible, church, Jesus, Christian teachings, or whatever but if you asked me about any religion the one I'll reliably know the most about is Christianity. I don't know why atheists are offended by being called culturally Christian because they have bad blood with the religion because like sorry bruh that doesn't mean you're less indoctrinated by Christian values if the culture you grew up in is predominantly Christian. In fact I'd say that religion being this ubiquitous in the culture regardless of anyone's consent to exactly ONE religion being shoved down our throats is reason to team up with other religious folks who ALSO don't like being constantly evangelized to by the culture at large, not a reason to throw a fit because you don't like being tied to a religion that is so ingrained into the culture that shit like "oh my god" and "Jesus Christ" are common expressions of surprise regardless of how atheist you are. Like surely I'm not the only atheist to notice the shocking amount of cultural religious shit that works it's way into my life and speech despite having not set foot in a church since I was like 10, and I can't remember the last time I was in one before that.

Idk man cultural Christianity seems like a pretty damn useful term to describe my relationship with a religion I never fully bought into and then actively rejected as a child yet still hold weird connections to and knowledge of just because Christianity is so baked into the culture I grew up in like it or not. If you want to be mad, be mad at the Christians who stole your freedom from religion from you, not usually religious minorities who discuss cultural Christianity and how it damages them too.

#winters ramblings #like breh i HATE how much christian bullshit ive had to detangle from my life. like the idea of sin and punishment for example #id say a LOOOOOT of discussion regardless of religion leans towards a Christian understanding of the pridon system #prison is basically a recreation of hell on earth where youre supposed to go to burn off your sins in your 10x10 cell #now i gotta say not all Christians buy inti the styke of punishment and sin i know normal well adjusted Christians #but for the most part a HUGE portion of shit comes with a helping of cultural Christianity. but prison is probably the best example #hell any discussion of punishment relies on a distinctly christian flavor of 'atone for your sin or be doomed forever" #repubs bitch about so called cancel culture but thats just how Christians act towards sin lmao they do it too #except they choose shit you didnt ACTIVITY make a choice about like being gay to condem you to hell. #cant be mad that twitter cancels people for small shit like a crap joke if you actively subscribe to the same belief system #and are only mad bc that logic is applied to YOU now. anyway i could do without this logic in activist spaces #or ANY spaces being doomed forever over sin is only one way to do Christianity. like damn can the ones who like #rehabilitation and justice and helping the poor at least be the ones in charge?? #regardless ive never been a Christian and barely have a meaningful connection to the religion. whuch is why i find it rather salient #that i still have this deep connection and knowledge of something i ACTIVELY REJECTED at 13 #do you know HOW MUCH i had to have been indoctrinated into this shit with as LITTLE of a connection to organized religion as i do?? #the fact i have ANY connection at all is kind if fucked honestly it shows you really REALLY do not get to choose #your religious leanings unless youre actively ANOTHER RELIGION BESIDES CHRISTIAN otherwise tough tiddy #you get to be Christian By Default and i don't like it either. but when i see jewish people talking about it #i know EXACTLY what they mean because i dont like my connection to a religion i never believed in and rejected at 13 either #i don't like that my choice to reject Christianity was stolen from me by such a ubiquitously christian culture #im not mad at jews for pointing this out im mad at christians for stealing my freedom of choice

[generalchelseamayhem]

Really beginning to loathe the way one of the battlegrounds of trans people vs. TERFs is "arguing which Wrong Side MRAs are on"

Trans people and their allies seem to think MRAs are allied with TERFs because TERFs have been known to hang around with Tories, Evangelical think-tanks, and White Supremacists, all of which are indicative of MRAs for reasons I find non-obvious. Like, if you're going to go down that route, you could at least point out where the offending White Supremacist has said anything about men's rights. Even for grifting purposes.

Meanwhile, TERFs seem to think MRAs are allied with trans people (going so far as to call them TRAs just for the acronym association) because, uh, all the laws trans people are fighting for will somehow make it easier for men to rape women, which is something they assume MRAs really want, for reasons I again find non-obvious.

And look, I'm not going to No True Scotsman MRAs, there's probably people out there on both sides of the discussion, and a few people remaining neutral besides. All I can really do is give my personal philosophy of men's rights.

I always start with "men are flawed, and varied, and important". Everything else flows downstream of that. If you can't accept one of those premises, I'm afraid we will not see eye-to-eye. One of the first and most important things that comes after is that men should, fundamentally, be given the freedom to be who they want to be, so long as they are not hurting anyone. That encompasses a wide range of things, but important inclusions in that for the purposes of this discussion are full bodily autonomy over the self, and freedom from expectations of behaviour based on gender.

The reasons given for why MRAs are on the wrong side every time seem fundamentally incompatible with these philosophies, and, if I'm perfectly honest, any functional philosophy of men's rights I can imagine (that isn't just grifting).

Like, okay, trans people think we're on the TERFs' side, and sure, I'm not going to deny that there are probably transphobic MRAs out there. But, if you look at the rationale TERFs, the foundation of their beliefs is most often that all men are evil, and these trans people are just more men trying to be evil in a particularly insidious way.

And yes, this is absolutely a conservative belief, so I can see how conservative men would ally with women who hate them! This is a tactic that religious fundamentalists have used for CENTURIES to suppress the freedoms of women. Even when they are men, they say "all men are evil, so don't go out on your own", or "all men are evil, so wear this special modesty clothing so that you shan't tempt them", or "all men are evil, so save your virginity until a marriage which has been blessed by God". This works because, when you accept this belief, you accept their authority and any doctrines around ensuring your safety that they put out.

But, it's kinda fundamentally incompatible with men's rights activism in any coherent form! Religions will take the hit of "making women fear men" because they typically don't care. But seeing men as evil is specifically something MRAs don't want, and so it makes no sense to ally with TERFs while the belief that all men are evil is their driving force. Like, there's no benefit! Hating trans people is objectionable, but hating trans people for explicitly TERF reasons is actively self-destructive.

Meanwhile, TERFs think we're on the trans people's side because any victory for them is an attack on women's rights, which... alright, fine. I can't dispute it because you're looking at human rights as though it's pie. That's a common thing among radfems, tbh. Once upon a time MRAs were shut down on the basis that victories for feminism were bad for them. Silly men, don't you know that rights aren't pie, and more for women doesn't mean less for you? Now the script is inverted, with radfems viewing every single concession to the idea that men have issues as an attack on women's rights.

I'd love to convince you that I don't, in fact, love to rape women, and want women to be as unsafe in public spaces as possible, but I know nothing I say will get through. I can only say that I've never wanted to rape someone, but I've never looked at the women's toilet door and considered it a greater obstacle to raping women than my own unwillingness to rape. I certainly don't think of intruding upon the space inside the door as a greater crime than rape.

Nah. The reason I break in favour of trans rights is not just because I have friends who are trans, but the trans rights worldview is generally compatible with my philosophy of men's rights. (Apart from the fact that they often/usually hate men's rights activists, but to be fair, they're hardly unique.) I quite like the idea of being just who you are without apology, without caring what other people say you "should" be. I think breaking down the rules that define gender roles in society is a very important thing for everyone.

And, on a purely self-interested level, it is poignant and heartbreaking to hear trans men's accounts of what their lives are like, now that they're living as men.

#MRA #TERF #trans

[yeehawfml]

I'm feeling way too tired to draw anything. Have some headcanons to stay fed <3

I like to think that pepperman and Vigilante have a mutual fear of eachother. Pepperman doesn't know Vigilante is afraid of him, because Vigilante keeps his opinions on a majority of the people he knows a secret (so as to keep the mysterious theme.) But Vigilante is aware of the effect he has on pepperman, or atleast somewhat. He knows he makes pepperman uneasy, but that's about it. Vigilante is mainly fearful of pepperman because of his ability to bring himself to actually attack others without batting an eye. No hesitation needed, he shows a sense of fearlessness, whether he's brave or stupid, Vigilante hasn't figured out yet.

Noise, despite being a Mexican, almost daily makes the most racist jokes he can. Out of all of the people to get offended by them, Vigilante is the one who gets the most upset about them, you'd expect it to be peppino but peppino doesn't even listen to a word he says (he's too annoying to listen to.)

Noisette used to be really similar to peppino but had her amygdala removed due to it causing her problems, so she is mentally unbothered by most things. She brings up how she had a Amygdalotomy normally as if it's just a small detail about her life.

Adopted headcanon technically but noise doesn't feel any romantic feelings for noisette, she knows but doesn't really mind. She wants him to tell her though, and wont leave him unless he tells her. He thinks she'd overreact about it, so he doesn't tell her. If anyone were to make noise tell her it'd probably be Vigilante (he feels the need to help everyone he cares about with situations, no matter how personal.)

Pepperman feels like everything needs to have a specific reason behind it. He doesn't believe in thoughtless actions. He would try to decipher the moral reasons why a person would pronounce a word in a specific way. This is one of the reasons Vigilante is uncomfortable around him, because Vigilante delicately thinks all of his actions out morally. Pepperman usually figures out his exact thought process for thw smallest actions, like putting a fallen book back on a shelf.

Peppino is actually an atheist, but he follows a majority of religious beliefs. It isn't out of respect, but fear. He doesn't want to be treated like a sinner by any religion, because if any of them are right, he could be punished. He has Theophobia, basically.

Vigilante is a Satanist. no he does not believe in the actual Satan, he believes in the idea of freedom of belief and being your own God. Gustavo also has similar beliefs, except he personally does believe in Satan. No, neither of them sacrifice baby lambs in the name of Satan, that's not something Satanists do, according to my research.

Pizzahead, similarly to noisette, had an Amygdalotomy. But he did it himself so he lost a majority of his brain. Don't ask how he's alive, he doesn't know.

Hope you enjoyed reading <3

#Piss towel #I mean pizza tower #pizza tower #Headcanons #Brook talks at you #Not even to you #Just at you #Oh yeah #Happy valentines day #Peppino #Peppino spaghetti #Vigilante pizza tower #Pepperman #Noisette #Gustavo (slightly) #:3

[partisan-by-default]

The trailer for "Annapoorani: The Goddess of Food" promised a sunny if melodramatic story of uplift in a south Indian temple town. A priest's daughter enters a cooking tournament, but social obstacles complicate her inevitable rise to the top. Annapoorani's father, a Brahmin sitting at the top of Hindu society's caste ladder, doesn't want her to cook meat, a taboo in their lineage. There is even the hint of a Hindu-Muslim romantic subplot. On Thursday, two weeks after the movie premiered, Netflix abruptly pulled it from its platform. An activist, Ramesh Solanki, a self-described "very proud Hindu Indian nationalist," had filed a police complaint arguing that the film was "intentionally released to hurt Hindu sentiments." He said it mocked Hinduism by "depicting our gods consuming nonvegetarian food." The production studio quickly responded with an abject letter to a right-wing group linked to the government of Prime Minister Narendra Modi, apologizing for having "hurt the religious sentiments of the Hindus and Brahmins community." The movie was soon removed from Netflix both in India and around the world, demonstrating the newfound power of Hindu nationalists to affect how Indian society is depicted on the screen. Nilesh Krishnaa, the movie's writer and director, tried to anticipate the possibility of offending some of his fellow Indians. Food, Brahminical customs and especially Hindu-Muslim relations are all part of a third rail that has grown more powerfully electrified during Mr. Modi's decade in power. But, Mr. Krishnaa told an Indian newspaper in November, "if there was something disturbing communal harmony in the film, the censor board would not have allowed it." With "Annapoorani," Netflix appears to have in effect done the censoring itself even when the censor board did not. In other cases, Netflix now seems to be working with the board unofficially, though streaming services in India do not fall under the regulations that govern traditional Indian cinema. For years, Netflix ran unredacted versions of Indian films that had sensitive parts removed for their theatrical releases -- including political messages that contradicted the government's line. Since last year, though, the streaming versions of movies from India match the versions that were censored locally, no matter where in the world they are viewed. [...] Nikhil Pahwa, a co-founder of the Internet Freedom Foundation, thinks the streaming companies are ready to capitulate: "They're unlikely to push back against any kind of bullying or censorship, even though there is no law in India" to force them.