#there’s many other examples but this one disturbs me the most | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

headspace-hotel · 2 months

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The USAmerican imagination cannot consider land that is multi-purpose.

A corn field is Corn, an endless monoculture, and all other plants must be eliminated. A residential area is Houses, and absolutely MUST NOT!!! have vegetables or fruits or native plant gardens or small livestock. A drainage ditch is only a drainage ditch, and cannot harbor Sedges and native wetland plants, A sports field is for A Sport, and let no one think of doing any other event on that field, shops and storefronts must have their own special part of town that everybody has to drive to, which requires parking lots...and God forbid we put solar panels on roofs or above parking lots or anywhere they can serve an extra purpose of providing shade, instead of using a large tract of perfectly fine land as a "solar farm."

Numerous examples. But it is the most annoying with agriculture. The people who crunch all the numbers about sustainability, have calculated that a certain percentage of Earth's land is "Used up" by agriculture, which is troubling because that leaves less "room" for "Wilderness." It is a big challenge, they say, to feed Earth's humans without destroying more ecosystems.

Fools! Agriculture is an ecosystem—if you respect the ways of the plants, instead of creating monoculture fields by killing everything that moves and almost everything that doesn't. Most humans throughout history, and many humans today, sustain themselves using a mixture of foraging and agriculture, and the two are not entirely different things, because all human lifestyles change the ecosystem, and the inhabitants of the ecosystem always change themselves in response.

Even if you are a hunter-gatherer that steps very lightly in the forest and gathers a few berries and leaves here and there, you are being an animal and affecting all other parts of the ecosystem. By walking, breathing, eating, pooping, drinking, climbing, singing, talking, all of those things affect the ecosystem. If you gather leaves to sleep on, that affects the ecosystem...if you pile up waste, that affects the ecosystem...if you break a tree branch, that affects the ecosystem...if you start a fire, if you create a small shelter, if you cut a path, that DEFINITELY affects the ecosystem.

This idea, that human activity destroys the ecosystem and replaces it with something Else, something Not an ecosystem, is so silly. "But you just said that even the earliest most technologically simple human societies altered their environment!"

Yes, I did. Because we believe that "pre-agricultural" humans could have no effect on their "wilderness" environment, we ALSO believe another false idea: That when humans affect an environment, they destroy "Wilderness" and change it to something else, like Agricultural Land, that can never have biodiversity and never benefit many life forms.

I think it is the European idea of agriculture that it always involves people settling down and relying on a few special plants that are domesticated intentionally and grown in specially dedicated fields. After all, this idea of an agricultural lifestyle, is in contrast with the "hunter-gatherer" lifestyle, which is assumed to be what humans do before they "figure out" agriculture. The European mind imagines "pre-agricultural" folks ignorantly bumbling about, thinking plants and animals conveniently pop out of nothing for their benefit.

Bullshit! I shake my head in disappointment when I see websites describing Native Americans using wild plants as if those plants just-so-happened to grow, when those same wild plants just-so-happen to thrive only in environments disturbed by humans in some way, and just-so-happen to have declined steeply since colonization, and just-so-happen to be nonexistent in unspoiled "Wilderness" locations, and (often) just-so-happen to have an incredibly wide range where they either once were or are incredibly common, making it very...fortunate that they just-so-happen to have a wide range of uses including food, medicines, and materials for clothing and technology.

Accidentally of course, without any human impact from the humans that were impacting everything. /s

"But if it wasn't an accident, how did it happen?" Here is how to understand this idea: Look at the weeds! The weeds will teach you.

Look at the plants you always see growing without being planted around human buildings and roads, and learn their history. Often you will learn that these plants have many marvelous properties, and have actually been used by humans for thousands of years.

In fact, some of the most powerful and difficult to control weeds, were once actually some of the most essential and important plants for human civilizations to depend on. The dreaded Kudzu, in its home in East Asia, was one of the main plants used for clothing for over 6,000 years, and not only that, it has been cultivated for food and medicine for millennia. You can make everything from paper to noodles out of Kudzu! And Amaranth, the most expensive agricultural weed in all the USA, produces edible and healthy grains as well as several harvests of greens per growing season, and several species of the genus have been fully domesticated and formed a staple crop of Mesoamerica.

Meanwhile...some people have come up with this neat "new" idea called Polyculture, which is where you plant a field with two crops at once and somehow get better yields from both of them. WITCHCRAFT! Unrelatedly, there are other ideas like "Cover Crops" and "Agroforestry" that for some reason have the same beneficial effect.

Wow...It turns out, sterilizing the whole environment of every plant except one crop...isn't actually a good way to do agriculture in many places in the world.

Just think about it from an energy point of view...

We have some places used for "Agriculture," where we wring the land as violently as possible to squeeze green vegetation from light energy.

And we have other places for Other uses, where we spend massive amounts of fossil fuels mowing, chopping, poisoning and trimming to STOP the land from producing its incredible bounty of green vegetation.

And in the agricultural fields, we spend even MORE resources killing the unwanted plants that grow spontaneously

This system is hemorrhaging inefficiency at both ends. It simply isn't a one-to-one conversion of land and fossil fuels to food energy. The energy expenditure of agriculture is mostly going into organizing the vegetation's energy into the shape and configuration we want, not the food itself.

In the Americas, indigenous agricultural systems involve using the plants that exist in the environment to construct an ecosystem that both functions as an ecosystem and provides humans with food, clothing, and other important things. This is the most advanced way.

Most of our successful weeds are edible and useful. A weed is simply a plant that is symbiotic with humans. My hypothesis of plant domestication is that it was initiated by the plants, which became adapted to human environments, and humans bred them to be better crops in response. Symbiosis.

Humans did not pick out a few plants special to intensively domesticate out of an array of equally wild plants, instead they just ate, selected, and bred the plants that were best adapted to live near human civilization. That is my guess about how it happened.

Just think about it. Why would you try to domesticate teosinte (Maize ancestor?) It sucks. Domesticated plants in their wild form are usually like "Why would you put hundreds of years of effort into cultivating this?" Personally I think it's because the plant grew around humans and humans ate and used it a lot because it was abundant. So we co-evolved with the plant.

Supporting this hypothesis, there are many crop plants that mutated and evolved back into weeds, like "weedy" rice, "weedy" teosinte, and "weedy" radishes. Also weeds develop similar adaptations to crop plants to survive in the agricultural environment.

Consider Kudzu. Everyone in the USA knows it as an invasive weed, but since ancient times in China, it was a crop that provided people with fabric from its bast fibers, food from its enormous starchy roots, and many medicinal and other uses. Kudzu is not evil, it simply has a symbiotic relationship with humans, and just as any other species might serve as a biological control, the main biological control of kudzu in nature is the human species.

Think of the vast fields and mountain sides of the South swallowed by thick mats of Kudzu covering lumps that used to be trees. Think of the people toiling away to clear the Kudzu, while wearing clothes made of cotton that was grown in a faraway place using insecticides and depleting fresh water, using energy from their bodies that came from crops grown in fields far away.

Now imagine people working to harvest the Kudzu, to cut the new vines and dig up the starchy roots and use the plant the way it is used by the people who know its ways. Imagine the people using the starch from the Kudzu root to make flour and noodles and sweet confections. Imagine workers processing the vines into thread which is woven into fabric. The hillsides and fields flourish with plants that used to be suffocated, and hillsides and fields in faraway places also flourish with their own plants, instead of being made to grow cotton and crops to provide for the needs the Kudzu provides for.

Imagine the future where we accept our symbiotic relationship with the plants!

#from my drafts #the ways of the plants #plants #weeds #plantarchy

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writeyouin · 3 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners

Chapter 1 - Hate For All Sinners

A/N – I couldn’t stop thinking about this short King after episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel came out. This is mostly a fic for me, to get me back into writing. (WILL DO A MALE AND NONBINARY ONE SOON!)

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

“Who’s that?” Lucifer asked, pointing you out to Charlie.

In truth, he would’ve likely asked that of the next person he saw. As Charlie’s father, Lucifer was trying desperately to show how interested he was in his daughter’s project, even if he was barely holding onto anything she said. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, or too ignorant to understand the situation, but rather that after spending so much time as a recluse, locked away in the protective space of his workshop where he wouldn’t have to see the sinners or the Hell he was responsible for creating, Lucifer could barely comprehend what was going on around him. He knew it was because he was depressed, but he was trying and he had to make Charlie see that, even if it meant feigning fits of hypomanic excitement.

Yet, Lucifer found himself genuinely… horrified by you. He had seen many types of Demon over the millennia. Typically, they tended to represent Earth’s animals, such as that annoyingly powerful Deer Demon, Alistair, whom Lucifer had met thanks to this very tour… not that Alistair was worth mentioning, piece of shit that he was, mingling with Lucifer’s daughter when he had no right to even breathe the same air as her-

Lucifer caught his snowballing thoughts, turning them back to you. You weren’t an animal Demon. There were other types of Demons of course, though Flora and Fauna were the most common; object Demons also existed, such as that rather famous one that people talked about, the TV Demon, V-something? Lucifer couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t watch Television… he didn’t do much of anything these days.

“Oh,” Charlie sidled over to you, wrapping her arm warmly around your shoulder as she corralled you towards her father, “Dad, this is (Y/N). She’s one of the hotel’s, uh, allies I guess, right (Y/N)?”

“That’s right, Sir,” You held out your hand for Lucifer, who was staring dumbly at you, uncertain what to make of you.

As the ruler of Hell, fuelled by angelic power, Lucifer could always read a Demon, or rather, he could read their strength. For example, he knew after only one meeting that the bartender, Husk was a strong Demon, though his power was clearly being dampened by a soul contract, whereas that little snake fellow Sir Pentious was rather weak, though he had potential if he could manage to claim even a few souls of his own, but you? You were entirely different.

First off, you didn’t resemble an animal, plant, or object… You were the most human-looking Demon that Lucifer had ever seen; frankly, he found that disturbing. Secondly, you didn’t seem to have much if any power. What was wrong with you? To come off as human with little demonic power… Well, if Lucifer didn’t know any better, he would guess that you weren’t a sinner at all, but you had to be. You were definitely dead; that much he could tell. And, you were in Hell.

Dead and in Hell - those were the only two qualifications for becoming a Demon, so why were you like this?

“Dad, are you listening?” Charlie said exasperatedly, clearly annoyed that Lucifer’s thoughts seemed to have trailed off once again.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Lucifer stated, staring at your hand which you had seemingly retracted when he wasn’t paying attention. Damnation! Now Charlie was going to think he had snubbed her friend on purpose.

“So, (Y/N) is another one of your patrons. That’s nice.”

“What? No. Dad, I just told you, (Y/N) has no interest in being redeemed.”

“Oh,” Lucifer looked you up and down disapprovingly. It figured. Even this non-Demon was looking for power in Hell, probably so you would finally be a killer worth bragging about – Honestly, what was the point? All sinners were the same. Greedy, destructive forces who wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left to break.

“Yep, she’s our only permanent resident who wants to help rehabilitate other souls. Isn’t that great? She helps with everything here, and she doesn’t ask for anything in return.”

“That’s not true,” You blushed at Charlie’s praise. “Your daughter is very generous, Sir. She lets me stay here rent-free.”

“And that’s all you want?” Lucifer asked suspiciously.

“Honestly? Yeah.”

Lucifer shook his head but didn’t argue. He didn’t want to know what your real motivations were. It was probably as simple as hoping for regular boons from the Princess of Hell; you were clearly just biding your time. Besides, if you didn’t want to redeem your soul, then you must be just like Alistair, a sadistic monster just waiting to see Demons repeatedly fail in their attempts at redemption.

Now that his curiosity was sated, Lucifer decided that he didn’t want to lay eyes on you again. You weren’t worth his time. Only Charlie was… Well, Charlie and Vaggie, because any woman his daughter loved was practically family to him. He was glad when the tour continued, leaving you behind to catch Nifty who was trying to pull a piece of fabric from Lucifer’s coat, muttering something about the ‘Ultimate bad boy.’

“Okay, I can get you the meeting,” Lucifer agreed, doing what he could to support Charlie’s dreams of saving her people, even though he didn’t think there were any redeeming qualities for any denizen of Hell.

It hurt him to tell Charlie that he wouldn’t be able to go with her to that lofty paradise, having been cast out; how he wished he could protect his daughter from those who carried out God’s will. Still, she never asked him for anything, and if this was what her heart most desired, he would do all in his power to help.

“Will you be okay?” He asked sombrely.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlie assured him, taking hold of his hands.

“That’s my girl.”

For a moment, it looked like Lucifer was done, but he paused, worried that this wasn’t enough to make up for the years he had been absent, leaving Charlie to fend for herself while he shut himself away.

“Is there anything else you need?”

Charlie couldn’t help but worry about her father. What would happen when he went back into isolation? He needed something to focus on, but… What was there for him when all of Hell was his prison?

She couldn’t help thinking about how little Lucifer thought of all the other citizens of Hell. If only he could see that they weren’t as terrible as he thought. Granted, they could be violent, and loud, definitely rambunctious, but these were his people, and he had to see that his gift of Free Will was a good thing, yet, if she said any of this, she was certain Lucifer would only laugh at her or tell her to get real while playfully pinching her cheek. There was no way that Lucifer would leave his home to hang out with any citizen of Hell.

Then it hit her. If Lucifer wouldn’t leave his manor to visit people, then people should be allowed to visit his manor. Or better yet, one person should be chosen to go and live with Lucifer so that he would learn just how good people could be, and Charlie knew just the person for the job.

“Actually, Dad, there is one more thing.”

“Name it,” Lucifer smiled, glad that his daughter wanted to ask things of him, as any normal child should want from their parents.

“I think it would be good for you to socialise, just a little bit.”

“Charlie,” Lucifer’s voice was strained at the thought of going anywhere else in Hell.

“I know,” Charlie reassured him, looking into his eyes; she looked so understanding that he relaxed slightly. Then, she continued in a more upbeat tone, “That’s why I think you should take (Y/N) to live with you, as your maid!”

She pounded her palm decidedly, much like a judge pounding her gavel.

“What? NO!” Lucifer sputtered.

You for your part, had seemingly been shocked into silence, watching the exchange uncertainly while Alistair grinned devilishly at you, and Angel Dust was holding in a snicker. Granted, you could have argued, but Charlie was stubborn, and she always had some kind of wild idea. Whatever she was thinking, you decided that you would go along with it; there was usually a method to her madness after all.

“It’s fine, Dad, (Y/N) doesn’t mind, right (Y/N)?”

You shrugged your shoulders passively, “I guess?”

“See? You should get to know your citizens, Dad. It will be good for you, I promise. They’re not all as bad as you think.”

Lucifer took one hard look at you. Honestly, he wished his daughter had picked the porn star or that psycho maid. You, as a very human-looking Demon, were a vicious reminder of his past mistakes. Still, he had told his daughter he would do anything for her, and he had already promised her a meeting with Heaven, and nothing could possibly be worse than that.

“Alright,” He agreed.

Then, he summoned a portal for you with the flick of his wrist.

“Good luck, kiddo.” He said to Charlie, and upon keeping a safe distance from you, he waited for you to step through the portal.

“Charlie, I’m assuming that you have a good reason for this,” You said before taking a step towards your newly appointed home, “Just call me if you need anything.”

With that, you were gone, followed closely (though not too closely) by Lucifer.

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aryana-thefairy · 10 months

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Astrology observations Part-4 🦋

🦋If you have a Cancer Sun/Cancer Moon friend, consider yourself lucky. The love of cancer is forever, don’t do them wrong. Cancer Moon has the best sense of humour. Adorable people.

🦋why do most Victoria's Secret models have so many Gemini placements in their natal chart? Both Naomi Campbell and Gisele Bundchen are Capricorn rising, with incredible bone structure and the best runaway walks.

🦋 It is always the friend with Taurus /Virgo placements giving you skin care advice and recommending products. I have seen a lot of these natives who are into Korean skincare, gua sha, and rose quartz / jade rollers. The thing about earth signs is that they love their self-care relaxing time.

🦋Lilith in 6H deals with power struggles/dynamics with co-workers. At your core, you have a hard time obeying authority.

🦋Uranus in 1H reminds me of the Beyonce song “Alien Superstar.”One of a kind, OG it girl. People with Neptune and Uranus in 1H, what is it like being copied all the time?

Marilyn Monroe has Neptune in the first house and Audrey Hepburn has Uranus in the first house. I feel both of these gorgeous women are icons in their rightful ways. Ariana Grande has both Uranus and Neptune aspects in the first house. She is heavily copied by others.

🦋I get complaints all the time about no mention of male attractiveness indicators. I mean beauty is subjective. I think Scorpio Men has it going on. Examples: Ryan Glosing, Ryan Reynolds, Leonardo DiCaprio. They have this pensive stare, the ladies love it. Although I find it a little disturbing that Leo only dates younger girls ⛳

🦋Venus in 2H is blessed by Aphrodite herself. Attractive faces. Planets in 2H affect the facial features. Examples: Brad Pitt, David Beckham, Scarlett Johnson, Zoe Kravitz.

🦋My Leo-rising friend loves experimenting with her hair with reddish tones. She is sort of a ginger at the moment. But with her features, she can pull off anything. She always gets compliments on her thick hair.

🦋Most Libras give me Elle Woods vibes. People honestly underestimate how intelligent and wise they truly are.

🦋Pisces Moon has a soulful watery gaze. hopeless romantics. My Pisces moon girls, you are too nice for your own good. Put yourself first. Don’t compromise your boundaries for any man. You are a queen.

Disclaimer : Personal observations are biased. Take what resonates 💋💋💋✨🦋

#astro observations #astro notes #astrogirl #cancer moon #capricorn rising #taurus sun #virgo moon #uranus in 1st house #venus in 2nd house #leo rising #pisces moon #astro placements #astro community #conjunction #natal chart #astro posts

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jessicalprice · 1 year

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christian universalism strikes again

(Reposted from Twitter)

So a rabbi I know came back from LA pretty jazzed about a Jewish addiction treatment facility there called Beit T'shuvah and so we talked about their approach and that got me curious about non-AA approaches to dealing with addiction which, my friends, was fascinating.

I’ll admit that almost everything I know about AA is more or less from The West Wing. I'm fortunate in that no one in my immediate family has dealt with substance abuse issues, and as far as I know, none of my close friends are alcoholics. My knowledge is pop culture knowledge.

But hearing about Beit T’shuvah was very interesting to me because:

I'd heard that a lot of people who aren't Christian have a hard time with AA because it's so Christian.

The difference in philosophy was subtle at first glance but actually paralleled a lot of the differences between Judaism and Christianity if you dug into it.

Anyway, I got curious about whether success rates were different for Christians vs. non-Christians and started googling. I didn't find much in the way of the data I was looking for, but I did find something a lot more disturbing, which is that the whole 12-step thing is not science-based. At all. For example:

The National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse compared the current current state of addiction treatment to medicine in the early 1900s, when there weren't a lot of standards for who could practice medicine. In order to be a substance abuse counselor in many states, you don't need much more than a GED or high school diploma.

A 2006 survey found "no experimental studies unequivocally demonstrated the effectiveness of AA or TSF approaches for reducing alcohol dependence or problems."

And I want to make clear here that I'm not saying AA is bad--clearly it's helped people. The problem is that it's touted as a universal approach, which is a problem when it's not based on any sort of actual science.

AA claims that its success rates for people who "really try" are 75%. (And boy does that mirror gaslighting diet language.) But the most precise study out there that's NOT coming from AA (https://amazon.com/dp/B00FIMWI1O) put actual success rates at 5-8%. One of the major textbooks on treating addiction ranks it at 38th out of 48 on its list of effective treatments.

So just like most fad diets, it fails for almost everyone who tries it, and then blames the individual for its failure.

A glaring issue is that the 12 steps don't really acknowledge--or provide any guidance or structure for dealing with--other mental/emotional health issues. That’s a giant problem when people with substance abuse issues have higher than average rates of those issues. (Take a moment to consider how the victim-blaming approach of “if you didn’t succeed, it’s because you didn’t try hard enough” is going to intersect with someone’s major depression.)

Now, if 12-step programs were just one available treatment approach out of many, this wouldn’t be that big of an issue.

But 12% of AA members are there because of court orders. Our legal system is requiring people to undergo treatment that is:

Christian-based

Not scientifically supported

A failure for the vast majority of people

I mean, here's a pretty comprehensive breakdown that talks about the lack of scientific support for it, alternative treatments (like those in Finland, and naltrexone), and the fundamentalist origins of AA.

The founder was a member of the Oxford Group, an evangelical organization that taught that all human problems stemmed from fear and selfishness, and could be solved by turning your life over to divine providence, basically. Sound familiar? He based AA on those principles, and given that the only alternative was "drying out" in a sanatorium, and that AA members would show up at bedsides there and invite inpatients to meetings, it must have looked really enlightened to people. In 2022, it bears a queasy resemblance to evangelizing to people in prison, literally a captive audience.

To be fair--to their credit--they were some of the first people out there saying alcoholism was a disease, and not a moral failing. But they didn’t treat it like a disease when it came to testing treatment options:

Mann also collaborated with a physiologist named E. M. Jellinek. Mann was eager to bolster the scientific claims behind AA, and Jellinek wanted to make a name for himself in the growing field of alcohol research. In 1946, Jellinek published the results of a survey mailed to 1,600 AA members. Only 158 were returned. Jellinek and Mann jettisoned 45 that had been improperly completed and another 15 filled out by women, whose responses were so unlike the men’s that they risked complicating the results. From this small sample—98 men—Jellinek drew sweeping conclusions about the “phases of alcoholism,” which included an unavoidable succession of binges that led to blackouts, “indefinable fears,” and hitting bottom. Though the paper was filled with caveats about its lack of scientific rigor, it became AA gospel.

And then Senator Harold Hughes, who was an AA member, got Congress to establish the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism, which promoted AA's beliefs, and sometimes suppressed research that conflicted with them:

In 1976, for instance, the Rand Corporation released a study of more than 2,000 men who had been patients at 44 different NIAAA-funded treatment centers. The report noted that 18 months after treatment, 22 percent of the men were drinking moderately. The authors concluded that it was possible for some alcohol-dependent men to return to controlled drinking. Researchers at the National Council on Alcoholism charged that the news would lead alcoholics to falsely believe they could drink safely. The NIAAA, which had funded the research, repudiated it. Rand repeated the study, this time looking over a four-year period. The results were similar.

The standard 28-day rehab stay, prescribed and insured:

Marvin D. Seppala, the chief medical officer at the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation in Minnesota, one of the oldest inpatient rehab facilities in the country, described for me how 28 days became the norm: “In 1949, the founders found that it took about a week to get detoxed, another week to come around so [the patients] knew what they were up to, and after a couple of weeks they were doing well, and stable. That’s how it turned out to be 28 days. There’s no magic in it.”

The last sentence here (bolded for emphasis) is especially chilling.

That may be heartening, but it’s not science. As the rehab industry began expanding in the 1970s, its profit motives dovetailed nicely with AA’s view that counseling could be delivered by people who had themselves struggled with addiction, rather than by highly trained (and highly paid) doctors and mental-health professionals. No other area of medicine or counseling makes such allowances.

There is no mandatory national certification exam for addiction counselors. The 2012 Columbia University report on addiction medicine found that only six states required alcohol- and substance-abuse counselors to have at least a bachelor’s degree and that only one state, Vermont, required a master’s degree. Fourteen states had no license requirements whatsoever—not even a GED or an introductory training course was necessary—and yet counselors are often called on by the judicial system and medical boards to give expert opinions on their clients’ prospects for recovery.

And, again, the idea that this is the One True And Only Way to deal with alcohol abuse leads to medical professionals ignoring research and treatment options that could be helping people. They are, in essence, taking all this completely on faith.

There has been some progress: the Hazelden center began prescribing naltrexone and acamprosate to patients in 2003. But this makes Hazelden a pioneer among rehab centers. “Everyone has a bias,” Marvin Seppala, the chief medical officer, told me. “I honestly thought AA was the only way anyone could ever get sober, but I learned that I was wrong.”

Stephanie O’Malley, a clinical researcher in psychiatry at Yale who has studied the use of naltrexone and other drugs for alcohol-use disorder for more than two decades, says naltrexone’s limited use is “baffling.”

“There was never any campaign for this medication that said, ‘Ask your doctor,’ ” she says. “There was never any attempt to reach consumers.” Few doctors accepted that it was possible to treat alcohol-use disorder with a pill. And now that naltrexone is available in an inexpensive generic form, pharmaceutical companies have little incentive to promote it.

I'm not saying that AA is bad. I'm saying its hegemony is bad. It clearly is effective for some people--a minority of people. But it's not for the majority of people, and that's a problem when it's being prescribed by courts (and doctors) as if it's a one-size-fits-all approach.

It’s not an accident that a Christian approach to treating addiction presents itself as the One True Way For All Humankind, insists that courts and doctors privilege it, demands that people take its effectiveness on faith, and blames anyone for whom it doesn’t work for not believing/trying hard enough.

Hegemony is a problem.

(Photo credit: Pixabay)

#christian hegemony #addiction #christian supremacy #aa #maybe courts should be recommending treatment with a better than 8% success rate and actual science behind them just saying

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

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Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #Malleus birthday takeover #something no one asked for #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Deuce Spade #leave it to me to turn Malleus’s deranged groovy face into family angst

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anantaru · 9 months

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what would your favs do in a modern au? and another really important question: who would they listen to?

cw. none, different tropes, gn! reader

a/n. nonnie I'm not sure what you meant with the 'who would they listen to' so i thought you may mean songs they like ??

heizou the private investigator, who has his own agency but prefers to work underground— he has a soft-spot for helping people in need and doesn‘t charge money for it. whilst, the local police knows of him and always hires him for quite dangerous, complicated investigations if they were to fail to do their own deep examinations on the mission at hand. heizou is vastly proud of his profession and his skills are one of a kind, for some he might appear to act relatively arrogant but it's not that at all if you dare to look at it closely, he's confident in his abilities if anything and treasures his own well-groomed skills the most. fun fact: currently, alongside the police, heizou was investigating the mafia whose members certainly are known to you.

heizou's favorite music of choice: french music (i'm biased okay leave me alone) for example demain by PLK or derniere danse by indila.

scaramouche the mafia hitman, who too— prefers to work underground to escape any awkward encounters with people. he exceedingly loathes conversations, they make his blood boil, peculiarly with his peers and would rather gauge his own eyes out than attend any special meetings. although as such, his work was in a class by itself, as perfect as someone can be, the higher ups know that he was not dispensable in any way and a real treasure within their ranks. in scaramouche's eyes, there was nothing he cannot do nor was anything off limits, if there was a mission to be accomplished, he will take the challenge without batting an eye.

scaramouche's favorite music of choice: mitski or melanie martinez (he doesn't admit it tho) <3

alhaitham the library overseer at your university who never talks to anyone, kind of a weirdo, yet he cannot possibly do so anyways since most of the times he greatly engages in yet another spellbinding book. for him, it's the perfect job; listen— he never needs to work overtime, duh, he's always home by the same, exact time and although some students can be quite loud and jarring to be around with, the library was a place of pure silence, which he greatly relishes in. but be cautious, if you dare to even raise a single octave of your voice, he will shoot you a death glare and wow, what a terrifying and overly handsome sight at once, you already know that many students only go to the library to admire the hidden view.

alhaitham's favorite music of choice: the man not only uses his headphones for music, but to block out outside noises which works just wonderfully. he prefers slower tunes, ones that do not disturb his reading. for example, ludovico einaudi or johann sebastian bach.

yelan the infamous casino manager, who makes her peers shiver in both sharp fear and terror. if she wants you to win, you will, otherwise she'll do what she does best, manipulate the game to her own benefits to slowly enchant you with her intense charms you simply cannot get enough of, only for you to slowly, agonizingly slow, slant down into the pits of literal hell and large debts. the pretty, dazzling woman has a business to run after all, you cannot be mad at her for that. yet, she is also reasonable and makes sure she isn't tainting the precious, not to mention flawless image of her casino.

yelan's favorite music of choice: no tears left to cry by ariana grande and diamonds by queen riri

dottore the mafia doctor, who works alongside scaramouche and has stitched countless of his wounds in the past. although the two of them absolutely loathe each other, no one can deny the outstanding skills dottore would display on a daily basis. whether it's open wounds, deep, dark bruises or broken bones, there was nothing he cannot heal. notwithstanding the fact that his practices might seem unethical to the outside perspective— especially if you take his habits of experimenting on his patients into consideration, yet, as long as he sews and bastes together the injured, his boss simply does not care and aids him in whatever he might be in need of.

dottere's favorite music of choice: torture sounds /for legal reasons this is a joke, or classical tunes for example the four seasons by vivaldi while he conducts his experiments on some patients he has.

kazuha the lifestyle blogger who takes you with him on every new adventure taken. his youtube channel had blown up since and had become one of the top on the entire platform. his posting schedule is all over the place though, he can go without uploading a new video in months which his subscribers do not mind, kazuha was a free spirit who goes with his own personal vibe, if he was in the mood to film something from his exciting adventures he'll do just that. expect loads of selfies with different animals from all around the world on his other social media, (ignore the weed in his hand) beautiful locations and deep talks on livestreams late at night.

kazuha's favorite music of choice: everything by tame impala, he also likes listening to indie artists and support them on his channel.

venti the worldwide music star who sells out every tour he does. the man was envied by the ones who shared his profession while utterly loved by the countless amount of fans he has. his voice acts like a charm, it's sharply mesmerizing and soothing to the ears, in some ways does it appear as if he's wholly hypnotizing the audience with his tunes. another fact, he writes all his songs himself and gets praised from every direction possible, while if you take everything into consideration of his life, venti was still very much humble and loved interacting with his fans or do interviews so they can get to know him better.

venti's favorite music of choice: loads of kpop music, for example stray kids or txt, but he does have a soft spot for classical music whenever he composes his own.

kaveh the architect who gets booked by the biggest, most flashing celebrities on the planet. fun fact, he was the one who constructed venti's mansion, since the latter only wanted the best of the best— while, quite frankly, there isn't anyone better than kaveh himself who could've adapted to venti's wished and made his home all the more personal and extravagant. in spite of the fact that he gets paid loads of money for his work, the sweet, talented architect tends to find himself broke almost all the time in his life. thankfully he had made a special friend whilst going out in town to drink a couple of his favorite beverages, here's to note that he never thought he'd become friends with a certain librarian.

kaveh's favorite music of choice: he likes taylor swift, ariana grande and tends to listen to music that is older, yet quite underrated. kaveh claims that the tracks on certain albums that get the least attention, are the best in his eyes.

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thegoatsongs · 1 year

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Sometimes I will watch a book adaptation as a movie/show and think about how the original text has so much that could benefit a visual medium, but that potential gets completely wasted.

For example, there are plenty of Dracula adaptations where Dracula throws away Jonathan's mirror. This is a good opportunity to show without telling about how many weeks have passed after that until Jonathan attempts his escape. Show him in a stubble that eventually grows into a beard. Make his hair messy, how he wears the same change of clothes for weeks and weeks, it's wrinkled. In general, most adaptations give me the impression that he's been there for a week, max. He was imprisoned for months.

When Dracula steals his clothes on May 31st we get the first large gap between entries, which is almost 18 days, which indicates a variety of things, including depression and despair. Since this can't be communicated through blank pages on screen, there's plenty of opportunity to show it otherwise. He has no mirror, but he has his razor. Show him reach for it, before stopping himself. Is it because he wants to attack his captor, or something else?

There are no mirrors in the castle, and he can't check his own neck if he's been bitten, maybe show him try to find a reflective surface in vain after one of his strange dreams (and they are another great visual opportunity to show his subconscious vs reality). If you go with that route, dial up the horror by getting us to finally see marks on his neck, which he cannot know are there.

There's more, like actually showing Jonathan's "brain fever" disturbing his and Mina's nights and being lost in "the hue of unreality" he tells Van Helsing about. Maybe give him a walking aid. Showing Jonathan clean-shaven since his wedding to show it's an important ritual to him and being on the way to healing. Then he starts growing facial hair again after Mina's attack.

No one ever shows Dracula's forehead scar, which is more than just an identifier of who he is despite his becoming younger. From a storytelling standpoint, it's proof that he is not indestructible, without needing too many words about that. From a symbolic standpoint, it parallels him with the only person Dracula has a psychic bond with, Mina, who also gets a scar on her forehead. Or how he in the end was marked to die by the person who scarred him.

And that's without going with the other characters, who I have thoughts about for each too.

Not to mention so many other books that rely heavily on symbolism. On-screen one can do so much more with Hyde's (as well as Jekyll's) appearance than making him a big monster or an uglier Jekyll, for example. Depending on the route they want to go with. But anyway that's for another time, I'm just having thoughts on directors showing they have a deeper understanding of the text than just "tick the plot boxes".

#dracula daily #dracula #jonathan harker #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #henry jekyll

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graceshouldwrite · 6 months

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How to Write Political Intrigue (with book recs)

POLITICAL INTRIGUE! Intrigue in general! What is it?

For the purposes of this post (as well as how it's usually used in the writing/reading community), think: scheming. Plotting. Conspiracies in the shadows, bids for power and survival, secret plans, masterful illusions, all of that stuff.

It could be on any scale that you'd like, from a duel of wits (think Light's and L's game of cat and mouse in Death Note)

...to a large-scale plot involving entire countries and their people (like any espionage networks during any major wars, such as the American Revolutionary War to World War II, and so many more)

...or even medium-sized conflicts (families, like in The Godfather, or smaller national disturbances like the Watergate scandal).

Below are 4 core tips on how you can successfully write (political) intrigue plots:

1. Read + Research

Despite how hard it may sound, it's actually pretty easy to craft a realistic yet thrilling intrigue plot—with so many examples in real life and fiction, you can easily base your plot on an existing one and just change a few things like the characters, setting, and maybe a few plot points.

History and current events are always great places to look to, but here are some books that are chock-full of great politics + intrigue:

Leviathan (Thomas Hobbes): one of the most famous treatises of politics + human nature and their intersection. The book is an in-depth exploration of human nature, government, politics, and all of the root causes of why they exist. While it does take a specific philosophical angle (you might not agree with Hobbes' ideas), they are detailed explanations of how things work + why they are required from one perspective.

48 Laws of Power (Robert Greene): GREAT BOOK for helping you plan out the means by which you want the intrigue to happen. There are lots of simplified rules that tell you why people plan and scheme (e.g. "control the options; get others to play the cards you deal," or "pose as a friend, work as a spy"). There are LOTS of really great small stories of when a rule is applied in real life that are also general plot inspo!

The Godfather (Mario Puzo): very very good, intricate, and more emotional because it deals with the intrigue surrounding families

Joseph Fouché: Portrait of a Politician (Stefan Zweig) (biography): Fouché is absolutely insane. A genius at political intrigue. His life is literally one of the craziest stories of scheming, betrayals, survival, and a general vying for power, especially behind the scenes.

The Prince (Machiavelli): obviously, I can't leave out the original tips + tricks book with explanations of WHY intrigue matters as a means, especially in terms of protecting your power.

Trust Me, I'm Lying (Ryan Holladay): a large part of intrigue plots (you need to cover up the actual game you're playing) is the manipulation of information, creating illusions and spectacles for other people to believe. This book goes in-depth about media manipulation and information wars.

Empire of Pain (Patrick Raden Keefe): takes a rather different angle, through the personal/corporate manipulation of government, as well as how wealth dynasties (especially within families) are established. Remember the opioid crisis? This book explores the generational politics of money and power that led up to that.

Prince of Thorns (Mark Lawrence): Look! Fiction! Anyway, I'm biased because it's one of my favourite works of fiction of all time, but it explores political intrigue not only through an actor participating in it, but through the lens of the common folk. I.e., the consequences all that power play has on the populace due to a lack of actual good governance...

A Song of Ice and Fire (George R. R. Martin): I haven't personally read/watched anything GoT, but it's pretty much obligatory to put this series down in a post about political intrigue. It's famous for doing it well.

2. Plan. Like, meticulously

First of all, decide what scale you want your intrigue to be on: large-scale government/international affairs type, a corporation thing, something between two people, or even within a family? There are so many possibilities.

Intrigue plots are like mysteries; they must be tightly logical to be satisfying. One of the best ways of ensuring this is through analyzing each involved party—the actors.

Each actor has their own motivations, goals, and psychologies. After you establish what they want OUT of their intrigue, think about how they'd go about achieving it: a naturally hot-headed person might try to intimidate their way into getting what they want, or they might learn through the course of the story to cool down a bit.

A naturally imaginative and analytical person might come up with all sorts of scarily genius plans, and near-flawless execution. Of course, they would also react in different ways, depending on personality. Character consistency alone will make your plot seem that much more logical.

However, cracks in logic will happen because humans are inherently imperfect and not always rational. These cracks must be DELIBERATE and realistic and must seem planned out; they can't seem more like the author forgot a detail, or didn't know how to explain something (e.g. something happened and the writer never included the consequence of it because they forgot). It must be clear that it is a flaw on the character's part.

3. Never write intrigue for the sake of the intrigue

The incentive of all scheming comes down to mainly two things: gaining power and keeping it. Of course, you could choose to explore more unusual things, such as characters exercising intrigue to satisfy boredom... (think Light and Ryuk from Death Note).

But, the bids for power, security, and survival can be used to highlight things about human nature. Themes to explore include ambition, sacrifice, the pursuit of happiness, the corruption of character, the preservation of innocence in a cruel system, etc.

4. Explore through a narrow lens

Most intrigue plots are full of complex motivations, characters, goals, and the means they use to achieve said goals.

You should gradually let your intrigue plot unfold through the POV of a few characters, preferably one or two. An omniscient narrator for this type of story is INCREDIBLY difficult to pull off without confusing the reader.

However, more POVs work if you use all of them to focus on ONE or a few intrigue plots only—it can provide a multi-layered effect, exploring the same line of action and consequence through different perspectives. But, if everyone has their own intrigue plot, it's too easy to create a tangled mess where readers can barely delineate one plot from the next.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Sorry for the massive hiatus—I have officially started college!! I've been pre-occupied with settling in, classes starting, a social life, extracurriculars etc. etc...life has been super busy, but great :)

I've started working on my books as well as poetry more recently, and I'm glad I'm getting into a new workflow/lifestyle. It certainly is different, but I'm starting to enjoy it.

Anyway, I'm surprised it took me this long to do a post about this topic, considering the fact that it's basically my writergram niche and my entire personality IRL, but I think it was mainly because I was trying to find a good angle to approach this massive topic. But, stay tuned for (probably) a part 2 because there's SO MUCH MORE to cover.

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

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accio-victuuri · 2 months

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an analysis : Xiao Zhan + The Moon & Sixpence 🌖

as usual with xzs videos like the one just released, you can make an entire thesis into the possible meanings of every chapter and frame. add it’s relation to xz and if you’re a pro, go deep into the techniques they used in shooting and editing. this one tho is centered around the theme of “the moon and sixpence” which is a book xz recommended before. I saw a few articles linking this to the elements on the vlog and so i looked into it.

i have lightly talked about some elements from the vlog yesterday but focused more on the quotes that appeared and the music chosen.

it’s been years since he mentioned this book and he didn’t even say that it’s his all-time-favorite. for example, the van gogh elements, we expect that already to be a recurring theme. as well as the moon, but this one has another connection to it. i am honestly curious where his headspace is at, and why, in this specific point in time he felt so close to the message of that book or some parts of it.

let me start with a synopsis and the book is available on googlebooks if you wanna try it out like i did. 🔖

with the plot alone, you can get a sense of why he would like it. at the time he read it, he was not yet the superstar xiao zhan that we know now. and this is why i guess he related to it more now. especially the sacrifices he has to make for the path he has chosen. this was evident in his GQ cover story interview where he compares himself to his other friends and how they have normal lives. the books is written in the first person POV of narrator who is looking into the stockbroker turned artist Charles Strickland. you get to see the thoughts of the narrator and how he views the main character of his story. the way i see it, the narrator is “Xiao Zhan the person” and how he sees “Xiao Zhan the public personality”. this concept of two sides to him was opened up in his esquire cover story and i can’t help but think it relates to this story.

i will be heavily quoting passages from the book that attracted me and i personally thought relates to xz. this is my personal interpretation only.

The greatness of Charles Strickland was authentic. It may be that you do not like his art, but at all events you can hardly refuse it the tribute of your interest. He disturbs and arrests.

the story starts of with this line and well isn’t this one way to describe xiao zhan? he has always been described as authentic and the “real deal” as far as idols and actors go. not many people are expected to like him or be part of his fan club and chase him — however, one thing is clear: he disturbs and arrests. his popularity is something that is unheard of and many artist and companies try to replicate. he is a disturbance to the norm in c-ent and why he is a constant target. it’s his biggest asset and liability. something like MFW and stepping out of his home is also expected to attract all kinds of attention. He is aware of that.

“His faults are accepted as the necessary complement to his merits. It is still possible to discuss his place in art, and the adulation of his admirers is perhaps no less capricious than the disparagement of his detractors; but one thing can never be doubtful, and that is that he had genius. To my mind the most interesting thing in art is the personality of the artist; and if that is singular, I am willing to excuse a thousand faults.”

this is in the POV of the narrator, describing the artist he is writing a book about, Charles Strickland. the message of this quote is similar to the one i mentioned above. xz is not perfect and people, specifically his fans should accept that. it’s what makes him more real. through his wins and losses, he is still xiao zhan.

“It is a salutary discipline to consider the vast number of books that are written, the fair hopes with which their authors see them published, and the fate which awaits them. What chance is there that any book will make its way among that multitude? And the successful books are but the successes of a season. Heaven knows what pains the author has been at, what bitter experiences he has endured and what heartache suffered, to give some chance reader a few hours’ relaxation or to while away the tedium of a journey. And if I may judge from the reviews, many of these books are well and carefully written; much thought has gone to their composition; to some even has been given the anxious labour of a lifetime. The moral I draw is that the writer should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in release from the burden of his thoughts; and, indifferent to aught else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success.”

this next passage makes me think of the projects he has done and what it must feel like for him. there are a lot of dramas/movies that come out every year and what we repeatedly hear from xz is that he only wishes to bring good works. something people will enjoy and appreciate— never mind the popularity that comes with it. he just finished filming a big project LOCH which i can only imagine is so stressful to him. and now is working on another historical drama.

he is someone who immerses himself in the character and once it’s done, it must be a huge weight off his shoulder. like what is said — seek reward in the pleasure of work and in release from the burden of his thoughts.

“Then, what in God’s name have you left her for?’

‘I want to paint.’

I looked at him for quite a long time. I did not understand. I thought he was mad. It must be remembered that I was very young, and I looked upon him as a middle-aged man. I forgot everything but my own amazement.

‘But you’re forty.’

‘That’s what made me think it was high time to begin.’

i think this one is pretty self explanatory, how he started in the entertainment circle a little bit later in his life. compared to his peers. but the answer was simple to him as it was with Strickland, in his case, “i want to sing.”

‘I tell you I’ve got to paint. I can’t help myself. When a man falls into the water it doesn’t matter how he swims, well or badly: he’s got to get out or else he’ll drown.”

this message seems similar to the one quoted on the vlog about about the rivers and small streams. in this one, it emphasizes how one should not be afraid to take the small step of “swimming badly” in hopes that someday they will wade the waters more efficiently.

“But here was a man who sincerely did not mind what people thought of him, and so convention had no hold on him; he was like a wrestler whose body is oiled; you could not get a grip on him”

If there was something in this book the describes XZ so perfectly — it is this one. I think he is not devoid of over thinking about what people say or being a people pleaser. but in recent times, i am seeing a change in him and how he is more calm. a freedom in the way he speaks, the truths he is no longer holding back. he is not afraid to be different anymore.

which led to that GUCCI outfit. LOL! 🤣🤣🤣

‘Look here, if everyone acted like you, the world couldn’t go on.’

‘That’s a damned silly thing to say. Everyone doesn’t want to act like me. The great majority are perfectly content to do the ordinary thing.”

so true. a great majority wouldn’t and couldn’t do what he does. just looking at the chapters in the vlog, from going to a distant place and dealing with the MGW chaos. after that, being only afforded a small time to decompress and sit. to enjoy the sunset. that’s what his life is.

“I don’t pretend to be a great painter’, he said. ‘I’m not a Michael Angelo, no, but I have something. I sell. I bring romance into the homes of all sorts of people. Do you know, they buy my pictures not only in Holland, but in Norway and Sweden and Denmark? It’s mostly merchants who buy them, and rich tradesmen. You can’t imagine what the winters are like in those countries, so long and dark and cold. They like to think that Italy is like my pictures. That’s what they expect. That’s what I expected Italy to be before I came here.”

i would guess this is how he sees his work. he never claimed to be the best, you can see that with how he always mentions wanting to be better. he wants to give the people a positive view of life. which i can clearly see from the vlogs even, makes you wanna go where he visited.

“A man’s work reveals him. In social intercourse he gives you the surface that he wishes the world to accept, and you can only gain a true knowledge of him by inferences from little actions, of which he is unconscious, and from fleeting expressions, which cross his face unknown to him. Sometimes people carry to such perfection the mask they have assumed that in due course they actually become the person they seem.”

another one that i think describes xz. his little actions that we see reveal his true self —- the gentle, funny and dorky xiao zhan which is a contrast to the character he sometimes has to portray. it’s when we talk about his duality, the way he was posing and “game face on” for GUCCI but when he did the interview you can see the dorky xiao zhan 😂

there are times that xiao zhan merges some of the qualities of his celebrity side and i think it’s perfectly person. it is a huge part of his life, and the way i see it, his experiences only make him a better person.

“I have an idea that some men are born out of their due place. Accident has cast them amid certain surroundings, but they have always a nostalgia for a home they know not. They are strangers in their birthplace, and the leafy lanes they have known from childhood or the populous streets in which they have played, remain but a place of passage.

They may spend their whole lives aliens among their kindred and remain aloof among the only scenes they have ever known.

Perhaps it is this sense of strangeness that sends men far and wide in the search for something permanent, to which they may attach themselves. Perhaps some deep-rooted atavism urges the wanderer back to lands which his ancestors left in the dim beginnings of history.

Sometimes a man hits upon a place to which he mysteriously feels that he belongs.

Here is the home he sought, and he will settle amid scenes that he has never seen before, among men he has never known, as though they were familiar to him from his birth.

Here at last he finds rest.”

read that again. it’s a lovely way to put into words what i imagine is something that not only xz goes through. we know what kind of environment and country he lives in, i’m not trying to get political but you get the point. being a celebrity or public personality like him is vastly different from how it is with the rest of the world. i have always admired how he handles it all with grace, how he he willingly accepts the responsibility and burden of being who he is. and that’s why i was also surprised by his answer when asked about a parallel world and he answers about a superpower where he can make it possible to have no disputes in the world. being in that place, with lots of people around, from different parts of the world probably made him think more about this topic. aside from eating pizza and being his usual beautiful self, he was thinking about some serious issues too.

chapter 1 was about going to a distant place but not really, there was something in that place and experience that feels like a home he longs for.

alternate explanation, this can also mean him living his life as a graphic designer, and then spreading his wings into a different industry — being the place he has sought. but considering the time this was released and where he is now at life, i’m thinking it’s more of the former.

so busy yearning for the moon that he never saw the sixpence at his feet. 🪙

this imagery at the end of the vlog + the coin he holds + the quote fits so well together. the way i see it, XZ is doing both. he appreciates the moon, he looks up to it but he doesn’t miss to see and hold the sixpence. it’s why he is holding on to it, in some, it was even rolling on it’s own towards him. and it’s not just the proverbial sixpence. he is seeing and appreciating his surroundings —- the egg he ate, laundry, bike etc.

as a fan, this is actually comforting to me. the book itself is not the happiest, which makes sense cause xz prefers melodramatic to downright tragic stories. but it shows a realistic view of what some goes through to pursue their dreams. it’s not as glamorous as what we see on tv or the internet. but the end of the vlog, shows that xz is keeping a balance. he is not just busy looking up at the moon— he is also living his life.

-END.

I first knew about the connection of the vlog to the book via 辉夜姬不叽 and i got hooked into writing something about it and reading the source material. i also liked @resonancewitness interpretation of the vlog, particularly the lines in starry starry night.

#xiao zhan #halfway through making this i thought about why i made it in the first place lol i just got so fixated #reading the book was lowkey therapeutic for me cause it has some good passages about love too ^^#i can’t believe xz made me read book lol thank you xiao laoshi 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️#i absolutely love the intellectual hipster side of xz never change please

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 7 months

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to start off this is long and rambly but please bear with me

you occasionally reblog pro/antiship discourse on the side of "real people are not haunted by fiction or people's opinions" and you generally seem to be very much against the idea of trying to hold people's thoughts against them etc in not phrasing this well but I hope you get my meaning. How does that affect the way you write about Renn?

Aspen and most of the other crew mates are deeply disturbed by him saying that he thinks genetic engineering of brains could sometimes be useful, to the point where his single defining quality is "the guy who supports Lyson projects" and somebody was willing to murder him over it. From a modern perspective what he said doesn't seem incredibly radical (I definitely disagree with the concept, but it's not even close to my least favorite conservative opinion). Maybe I'd be angrier if it was someone minimizing a real tragedy like he was in-universe? That probably played into it.

I'm not trying to imply Aspen's thoughts are your thoughts, or that you should've written them more similar to you, but it is a really interesting dynamic and wondering how/why you came up with it.

Lyson projects have nothing to do with genetic engineering. They're about emotional/behavioural control via brain damage.

I'm not really sure what you mean about people's opinions haunting people. People's opinions influence their behaviour, which absolutely can cause problems for other people. Somebody who thinks gay people are mentally ill predators out to corrupt children is dangerous in groups, in the voting booth, and in general life because they hold that opinion.

I don't agree with Aspen on most things, and this Lyson disagreement got into the story the same way all the other ones do -- I come up with a topical conundrum about care, community, liberty or justice, and throw as many different viewpoints at it as possible from different crew members. Which crew member I personally agree with is more or less random; their positions are chosen by their personalities, not mine. I'm interested in giving the reader a space to consider a messy issue, not forcing them to listen to my opinion specifically. (If I wanted to do that, I'd just get into online discourse about it instead).

In the case of Lyson projects, the issue is pretty obviously the question of risk and autonomy in the care of vulnerable patients, and the question of benefits of certain treatments vs. their potential for abuse. I was specifically thinking about euthanasia and MAID when I wrote it but there are literally uncountable other examples of the same conundrum, including the more literal (long discontinued) parallel of performing medical lobotomies.

If you're interested in discussing the ethical stuff that shows up in TTOU specifically, the Discord is constantly having those conversations.

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zeldadeservesabreak · 10 months

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“Where did all the Sheikah tech and shrines go?”

… is one of the most annoying questions I’ve seen repeated over and over again by people and theorists. Because the answer is quite literally in your face the entire game if you just pay attention to the details.

There’s actually 3 very obvious reasons for the shrines and towers disappearing. And since I get this question a lot, I’m gonna answer them here:

1. They were repurposed by Robbie and Purah.

This is the most direct answer with evidence you can clearly see. Purah and Robbie are still tinkering with stuff, and the Purah Pad is a perfect example of this. It is very clearly still Sheikah technology. It looks and acts just like the Sheikah Slate, but it’s more refined and streamlined. So it’s pretty apparent that since the events of Breath of the Wild she and Robbie have continued their studies and made improvements on the tech.

Additionally every one of the sky view towers houses guardians underneath. This is very clear in the little cut scene that plays out when you activate one for the first time. Guardian legs pop out, and then apply the appropriate gear to you before launching you into the sky. If you pay attention to Link’s reaction as well, the first time this happens in Lookout Tower he is visibly FREAKED OUT by this. No doubt a reflexive defensive reaction to his time fighting Guardians in the last game.

So the tech isn’t entirely gone. It’s been repurposed.

2. It was dismantled on Zelda’s orders.

This is not explicitly said, but it’s heavily implied. Zelda has been traveling with Link since the first game and helping to rebuild Hyrule. Part of healing from a calamity is removing evidence of that calamity so that people can move on with their lives and not be reminded of the thousands that died.

This is also probably because Zelda feels guilty about the role she played. After all she was the one who unearthed the guardians in the first place. She set up the very same guardians that eventually got possessed by Calamity Ganon and DESTROYED THE WORLD.

Also, having finally stopped the calamity it is in Hyrule’s best interest to remove technology that could still be beneficial to your enemies. The last thing they need is another calamity happening that reactivates all the dead Guardians… again. (More on this later)

You can find evidence of this in many places where shrines once existed now only exist an empty patch that resembles the shrine’s shape. These patches are clean, do not disturb the landscape much at all, and it seems much more controlled and surgical compared to what I’m about to talk about in the next section. I believe these patches are where Zelda’s construction team are responsible for dismantling the shrines.

So it’s pretty clear to me that healing the land from the calamity by removing them and any other Sheika tech/shrine would be a priority.

3. Ganon’s Gloom destroyed the rest.

This is also not explicitly stated, but is pretty clear when you examine the facts. Gloom is extremely dangerous. Far more dangerous than the calamity’s corruption. Gloom saps your life away and is the reason all weapons in Hyrule just suddenly decayed when the upheaval happened. It’s so powerful that it literally decayed the Master Sword! The most powerful weapon in the Zelda franchise got instantly destroyed by gloom from Ganon’s initial attack.

So taking this evidence and extending it further… what’s something Ganon would want to get rid of? How about something that could be used against him? Like, say…. The divine beasts and the guardians… or how about a magical shrine that could resurrect a fallen hero?

His calamity form was destroyed by the technology initially, and while he took his revenge by possessing them the next time, the divine beasts were eventually ripped away from his control by Link and the sages were able to fire upon him yet again. So that tech is dangerous and Ganon isn’t dumb. He’s not gonna risk the same mistake happening again.

And there is evidence of this as well. If you travel around Hyrule, in many of the places where Sheikah shrines once existed you will often find bandit camps or giant gloom infestations with sink holes into the depths.

So what happened to the divine beasts and the rest of the Sheikah shrines and tech that wasn’t repurposed or dismantled? Ganon’s gloom destroyed it.

Conclusion.

I know that it’s frustrating that there aren’t many reference to these things by NPC’s. It could easily have been handled by a couple lines of dialogue by a few random characters here or there. But to be honest I look at this as just another puzzle left by the developers.

Like so many aspects of the Zelda franchise, it’s often left to you (the player) to piece together clues and small details to form your own conclusions to things. Environmental storytelling is very much a huge part of both Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom’s world building. To me the fact that there are so many clues about what happened is an indication that the developers did understand that people would question this.

The problem I’m seeing is that after asking the question “where did all the Sheikah tech go?” people are either too unimaginative or very unobservant, and don’t bother trying to ANSWER that question.

The answer is in the game. It’s all around you. You’ve been walking over it, around it, and diving into it (quite literally) while you’ve been playing.

#zelda #tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom spoilers #breath of the wild #botw #zelda theory #zelda theories #gloom #Ganon #sheikah #Sheika tech #sheikah tech

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rainesarxchive · 10 months

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random aizawa headcanons and scenarios I

reader: gender neutral X Aizawa Shouta warning/s: I had a dream about him (now you get to experience my dream with me) masterlist here: non-existent

☆ Aizawa is a gentleman. (I had a dream about him and he was just so freaking ugh, yk) But I digress, Aizawa is the type to offer his services nonchalantly, however he makes it seem as if it’s a burden even though he is more than happy to do it for you.

☆ For Example: pulling your chair, opening a door for you and helping you stand. Chivalry is not dead.

Can you imagine him jogging around a car from the driver’s seat to the passenger seat to open the door for you (biting my knuckles!)

☆ Let’s say you’ve been married for 5 years (congratulations, many people don’t make it that far these days). How have you two kept that spark alive? By behaving like newlyweds. Secretive newlyweds that is.

You and Aizawa haven’t told anyone besides you’re immediate family and close friends (as they attended the wedding). Out of nowhere one day Aizawa posts on his IG story a picture of you with your puffed up eyes and swollen lips :“my significant other”.

Your peace is disturbed for the entirety of the day until you confirm it’s true by posting a wedding day picture. Then the paparazzi gets on your case, it’s a whole ordeal and Aizawa made it up for no reason not thinking over the consequences, he’s so whipped.

☆ If you inflict pain on him in any kind of way you have to kiss the pain away. (if you so much accidentally cut or scratch him with your nails wherever it is, it’s getting kissed better until the upper epidermis looks brand new, no scabs, no scars, just skin, maybe hair, maybe peach fuzz who knows)

☆ Mama’s boy, he just gives off that energy. He goes home to see his mum and he switches up, it’s creepy, but you appreciate their healthier than mosts relationship.

☆ His teeth are the picture of perfection (in the anime when he smiled I got a little scared I’m not gonna lie) they are straight, white and he has prominent canines.

☆ He has a pervy smile, but he also has an endearing smile. If Aizawa is laughing his overall expression would probably light up your day. But if he’s trying not to laugh his perverted smile appears and you shake your head snapping a photo to show him later.

☆ His laugh is absolutely atrocious, it’s like a witch and a seal merged together, you’d think he’s got asthma, but nevertheless infectious (to an extent, i mean imagine him laughing in the cinema for the 9th time he’s getting cussed out, cause wth is that? a dying hyena??)

☆ Aizawa is touchy, he’s an absent-minded toucher, it brings him comfort knowing you’re there even if he doesn’t realise it.

☆ In the morning without fail, he will pepper you awake with kisses which turn to long kisses which are pretty lazy ones but then dial right up (use your imagination). He doesn’t care about that hot breath of yours in that moment, afterwards however, he’ll come for you if you don’t both redirect yourselves to bathroom to freshen up.

#my hero academia #aizawa shōta #bnha aizawa #shoto aizawa #aizawa x you #aizawa sensei #aizawa x reader #eraserhead #aizawa fluff #mha aizawa

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 3 months

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Suspend Your Disbelief. Seriously.

One thing I've taught myself when it comes to interpreting literature, no matter what it is or where it comes from, is when something is left unsaid, I assume the best-case scenario.

An example: Greek Mythology.

Greek Mythology is notorious for having very...disturbing things happen. And yeah, it happens to even your favorites.

But something that ticks me off (on this website in particular) is exaggerating a myth.

I think Apollo is a very good example of this. I have heard "Apollo raped [insert name here]!" so many times, but you know what? They never back it up with actual sources! Just heresy!

Daphne? He never even touched her. Chased her? Yes, but people also tend to disregard Eros's own involvement in that matter. (i made a post about it and other things)

Castalia? Same as Daphne. also was a very late addition by the Romans and is not Greek

Cassandra? This is literally a case of a woman being given autonomy! If Apollo was literally any other god, she would have been raped - but he didn't! Curse her? Yes and there's a lot more to unpack here but that's another post but he never assaulted her! "But she was coerced-" NO SHE WAS NOT. AS A MATTER OF FACT SHE LOVED HIM. YEAH THAT'S RIGHT CASSANDRA LOVED APOLLO. PROOF IN THE TROJAN WOMEN:

Farewell, ye garlands of that god most dear to me! farewell, ye mystic symbols! I here resign your feasts, my joy in days gone by. Go, I tear ye from my body, that, while yet mine honour is intact, I may give them to the rushing winds to waft to thee, my prince of prophecy

also this is after the curse situation. so. they have NUANCES! and i like that. euripides be giving us NUANCES and i SALUTE him GIVE ME THE NUANCES PLEASE

I could go on and on. But one myth is a very good example of this "assume the best happened" vs "assume the worst happened" mindset.

Bolina. She was a mortal who Apollo fell in love with, but she threw herself off a cliff. Apollo turned her immortal to save her life, and that's the end of the story.

Yet I have heard people use Bolina's myth as "proof" that Apollo's a rapist.

First of all, I have a whole post basically debunking this notion, but also, where does it say. at any point. that Apollo raped Bolina?

(screenshot from Theoi.com)

Where.

That's right. Nowhere.

Sure, I guess you could assume it was done after Apollo turned Bolina immortal, but honestly, in my opinion, that's just grasping at straws. That's looking for something to complain about.

What I've learned is to assume the best happens. And guess what? That makes me enjoy mythology more! Suspend your disbelief! Not that difficult! Just because these myths are from ancient times doesn't mean terrible things happened all the time!

And I say this as an enjoyer of Mythology. This is not my religion, or my culture, but I am an avid enjoyer (particularly of Apollo's myths, hence why I used him as an example) and I do get irritated when these myths are twisted around in someone's quest to "prove" that a certain god usually Apollo is The Worst.

and it's kinda funny how people are determined to make Apollo this terrible, misogynistic asshole when...he's not. Then turn around and call the goddesses feminist girlbosses when they have also done fuck-up shit to other women.

Suspend the disbelief. You'll be happier.

#bolina #apollo #greek mythology #greek myths #greek myth #greek gods #greek goddesses #ancient greece #tagamemnon #mentioned rape #classical literature #apollon

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onecinder · 13 days

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I'm really late but rereading the recent webcomic chapters reminded me how badly Genos's psyche is deteriorating

Like, Genos has stated THIS is how he thinks of himself SO MANY TIMES. That he’s ‘thrown away his human side’, is ‘a being whose only purpose in life is to fight' among other things really shows just how much he's beating himself up -- and he has been for a while, it's just recently it's probably been triggered by Dr. Kuseno's death.

And this panel is even more disturbing. He sees Boros and says he's a 'pathetic being whose only purpose in life is to fight.... just like me', and that boros (and therefore himself) is just a living being deprived of his will and operated as a weapon.

But the most disturbing thing is that he then he proceeds to try and PUT BOROS OUT OF HIS MISERY. Like, that's basically implying that Genos would put himself out of his misery as well if he could, and that he very well might -- after all, he's got a history of drastically trying to self-destruct or taking actions that may very well lead to self-destruction. He's a hero, yes, but sometimes he comes off as a little too eager to throw away his life in order to save lives, or just defeat a monster. But a large part of why he's still alive is because Saitama stops him.

Which brings me to the other thing that's deteriorating -- Genos and Saitama's relationship (though that could be seen coming from a mile away, honestly. All the little cracks in their relationship have been played off for laughs and gags up till now, but knowing ONE, a gag is always the surface of something more serious.)

Even Dr. Kuseno acknowledged directly that Saitama had a huge part in keeping Genos human, in control, and feeling like a normal teenager, and not self-destructing.

Saitama used to be the thing tethering him TO his humanity, but now that he's not even there for Genos, and Genos is mad at him, and Dr. Kuseno, the only person with sufficient emotional maturity to comfort Genos, is gone, what's left to keep him from absolutely losing it?

When I saw these two pages, I could at first see it being construed as: Genos's belief in the humanity and goodness in people allowed him to let Metal Knight to go unchecked, and then he also believed in Saitama's ability to stop him and save everyone if anything were to go awry, and that's what 'clouded his judgement'. But obviously that isn't how it's supposed to be construed. He's definitely mad at Saitama (my shipper heart went through the five stages of grief reading it)

Saitama can't save everyone, not even Dr. Kuseno. This is another example of the consequences of a gag rearing its ugly head now... his unconcerned nature was funny at first, but Genos now feels Saitama is to blame for the whole situation.

Even at this particular panel, which is pretty early on, it's like Saitama knows that Genos is mad at him and that his self-control may be slipping away, and either doesn't really know what to do or decides to give Genos space.

This is the second time across 2 different mediums that Saitama's tardiness and nonchalance caused someone important to him/the people around him to get killed (for the manga, Genos himself, and for the webcomic, Dr. Kuseno.)

Yet he STILL blames himself and goes back to thinking he's worthless and powerless and a shitty hero.

But there's no denying it, he's super mad. Saitama is no longer the perfect idol he looked up to. It used to be such a gag that Genos was willing to do anything for Saitama, and admired him to the point it was borderline obsessive, but the consequences are really showing now.

Buuuut, maybe this is all for the best. A question I avoided confronting was when Genos would finally blow up. For a relationship to be healthy, I think it definitely requires for the people in it to have arguments, disagreements, and work through them together. That's what constitutes a strong relationship with proper understanding and communication.

Aaand if it's one thing these two are bad at, it's communicating their needs and listening to each other imo. (Even Genos misunderstanding everything Saitama says for something suiting his own 'vision' of him is played off as a gag as well.)

It's just that the consequences of these issues are exaggerated by like x1000 and the fate of many people relies on the health of this relationship, and on Genos's psyche staying intact, so... uh, I hope it's all for the best?

If they both don't come out the other end holding hands and slowly mending then RIP Saigenos :(

(sorry for this long ass post it probably could've been summarised in 20 words about 3 months earlier)

#opm #opm webcomic #genos #saitama #saigenos #opm meta #my post #one punch man

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ficthots · 1 year

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A/N: Josh is an annoying neighbor. Come on, we all know it's true. This is what it would be like to be his neighbor. If you're lucky. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if you are under 18. 18+ content only

Word Count: 8.2K+

Manors. You are taught them from an early age and if you are a gracious person, they stick with you throughout your adult life. Most people with common decency and respect for others can even mutter out a please and thank you on their worst days. These small things are ingrained in you from such earlier times that they truly become second nature at some point, simply transforming you into being a good person.

The bigger person. A phrase you had heard since your mother first said it to you when you got in an argument with a school friend about them taking your Lincoln Logs without asking. Your mom had sat you down once you had gotten home from school that day and said while she understood how upsetting it could be, that you needed to try and see it from their point of view. Perhaps they didn’t realize you were using them or they thought you were done. Go back to school tomorrow, be the bigger person, and forgive them.

That mentality had followed you through life thereafter. You reconciled with your friend and were now able to apply that mentality to many petty disputes from then on out. However, being the bigger person is not always the best option.

Take for example, your incredibly shitty neighbor that lives directly across the hall from you. That prick of a human being did not have a sensible or courteous bone in his body. It has been going on for months now. The incessant throb of a bass that jolts your walls and nearly knocks your favorite mugs from your shelves. A screeching of a voice that you cannot make out the words they are attempting to belt out, only offering a migraine. Starting near eight or nine every night and going well past midnight.

After bitching to your mom on the phone for the millionth time, she suggested approaching them as kindly as possible. Let them know they are kind of disturbing the peace and move forward. The thought of crossing the hall and actually speaking to them for the first time ever had you on edge.

You were going to try the friendly approach. Being a non confrontational person meant slipping an anonymous note under their door, a nice message and asking to keep it down attached to it. It did not work. A small bout of hopefulness spread through you as the music came to a halt that evening, letting the blood rushing in your ear to cease for only a blissful minute before starting right back up.

Being the bigger person. You had tried that. Attempting to see it from their point of view. There is a chance they did not realize how loud they were actually being. Offering a peaceful chance for them to quiet down, letting their neighbors think again. That was the entire purpose of the note. No embarrassing or awkward conversations between strangers. You truly thought it would work and they would realize their actions were actually quite rude and attempt to be a better neighbor.

Nope. Nada. Zilch.

Whoever they were picked it right back up. A small, frustrated yelp left your throat. You were shocked that they had so blatantly ignored the pleas from their desperate neighbors. Was it too much to ask that after a long day at work to come home, watch trashy television, or simply read a book in quiet solace? No, it was not.

And whoever was living across the hall was fucking that up. You didn’t even know their name. Only knowing them by the marking next to their door. 2F. You had never even seen them either, working opposite schedules obviously. Sometimes it seemed like they were gone sporadically for weeks at a time, signaling their arrival once again by the vibrating floors.

You had reached a breaking point one night. What had been occasional night time music thundering in the building had seemingly turned into a near twenty-four seven parade. You attempted to ignore it to the best of your ability, even making yourself a nice cocktail after a rough day at work.

It felt like you couldn’t escape it. Far too chilly to enjoy your patio, you wandered through the rooms of your apartment, trying to find any break you could from the incessant noise that seemed to follow you like a shadow of death.

They had been home for weeks now, more than likely unemployed you assumed by the constant, never ending noise streaming from their home to yours. At first it had been the same as it normally was, annoying, but at least you were used to it. Until you woke up one morning to it. After that, it seemed to never stop.

This particularly shitty day had you on edge, wanting to come home and soak in the tub, read a smutty novel about a mafia boss forcing an arranged marriage, and then fall asleep a tad bit tipsy. You were already working on the latter of your wants, second mixed drink in your hand and nearing its end.

It was a Friday afterall.

Your plans had come to a screeching halt when you arrived home and you could literally see their door slightly shaking. “Be the bigger person,” you whispered out, hand clutching your door knob and entering your own apartment. You tried. Truly you did.

As you had called it quits on the alcohol for the evening you knew you needed to get some food in your system or it was going to become a sloppy night. You made dinner, sat down to enjoy it, trying your hardest to tune out the high pitched wailing crossing the hall that was forcing its way into your space.

But when you missed what one housewife had said to another during a heated argument in Bali you had reached your limit. Feeling more confident with the liquor still in your system, you were nervous to approach them, but it needed to be done. It was time to teach the douchebag some manners.

Slamming your bowl down on your coffee table, standing from your sofa, and walking across the small hall to their front door, your fist connected with the wood, pounding on it repeatedly until the mystery person opened it.

A curly, almost mohawk of a style sat atop his head. Some sort of beads swayed with his movement, moving across his bare chest, sweats hung low on his hips, his bare feet crossed as he leaned on the door. A large smile greeting you displaying the complete opposite emotion you were currently feeling. “Hi there!” He spoke loudly, excited and eager to speak to you.

“Do you understand how loud you are? It has been months of listening to this every single-” you were nervous, trying to get your trembling hands to stop the shake, but he cut you off as you started your tirade. “You’re the note!” His smile somehow grew bigger, reaching behind him and grabbing the piece of paper from what you assumed was an entryway table behind the door.

You nodded, starting back up, irritated that he had interrupted you whilst speaking. How incredibly rude. This kid seriously had no idea what manners were.“Yes and I tried being nice about it, but you obviously don’t seem to comprehend that you live in an apartment meaning you share walls-,” his eyebrows furrowed at your wording, the tip of his tongue poking out from behind his teeth.

“We don’t share walls.” He had cut you off. Again. Your nostrils flared slightly at that, using that observation as your point of reference. “Exactly. We don’t share walls and yet mine are vibrating every day because of your music that you’re blasting. You can’t even pause it for a conversation!” A laugh escaped you at the end, arms crossing in disbelief at this guy.

He rolled his eyes, smile never leaving his features as he grabbed his phone and hit pause. You took in a deep breath, already feeling the tension releasing. “It’s late, I got home from a crappy day at work, all I want to do is get some sleep and I cannot do that with you blasting whatever it is you listen to. Honestly, it sounds like the same song over and over which I mean power to you if that’s what you like to do, but please, just turn it down.” He hummed at your response, opening his notes app as you spoke.

“Sounds the same,” he mumbled, typing that into the note. His eyes darted up to meet yours after he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Did you say you were going to bed? It’s 9:30, grandma.” You gasped in surprise at his harsh judgment. “Listen,” he leaned to the side to see around you and squinted his eyes, “3F. You seem to be the only person that has a problem with this. I actually share walls with 1F there and they have never complained. Seems to be a you problem,” your jaw hung slack at his words.

You narrowed your eyes to slits as you stared at him. “Just keep it down, asshole.” His eyes went wider, a scoff of a laugh billowing from his lips. “Ouch, 3F. That wasn’t very nice.” You turned on your heels, entering your apartment and slamming the door behind you.

The music started right back up. The same song on repeat for the remainder of the night. You weren’t sure when it ended, deciding to sleep with your duvet entirely covering your head, but you knew it carried on late. You could tell by the endless tossing and turning all night. When you looked in the mirror the next morning, the deep bags that sat under your eyes confirmed it.

You hated him.

Sitting at a dimly lit table in a dimly lit restaurant with your best friend meant you were struggling to view the menu. She grabbed it from your hands, putting them on the table and smiled at you. “Don’t worry, I know what we’re ordering.” As she quickly spewed your order to the server, you sat enjoying the low chatter and jazz music that flowed through the room.

See, this was a respectable level of volume. 2F should take notes. Your eyes darted open as she slapped her hands on the table top. “What’s up with you? You look exhausted,” she sipped from her cocktail as she eyed you. “Wow, thank you, that’s exactly what I needed to hear today,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a piece of bread and tearing it apart, stuffing it into your mouth.

Her laugh echoed in the space, kicking you lightly under the table. “You know what I mean! Seriously, what’s up?” You sighed, leaning back in your chair as you chewed. “My shitty neighbor won’t stop playing his shitty music through all hours of the night. Last night was the second week in a row of it.” She nodded in response, checking her phone as she intently listened to you.

Ha ha.

“Report him. It’s a lease violation. Email your property manager and it’ll stop literally that day. Look at Shelby, can you believe she’s pregnant?” She leaned across the table, shoving her phone in your face, but all you could think of was how great of an idea it was.

As she spent the rest of her evening gossiping with you hardly contributing to the conversation, you drafted out an incredibly detailed email to send to your property manager. 2F was going to shut the fuck up. He was going to be told to. By someone other than you.

You sent the email the next morning, listing all of the hours that the music had been playing and how incredibly disruptive it was even after you had asked him to keep it down. You received a response within an hour saying that they were going to handle it.

Entirely unsure how long you had been perched on a barstool next to your front door, offering a great view of your peephole, you felt giddy. Were you waiting to see if he was going to be getting the violation? Absolutely, and you were doing so with a drink in your hand, occasionally peeking into the hallway to see if it was happening yet.

When your property manager appeared, you scooted the chair away from the door, too excited to sit, instead standing with either hand on the door, eye glued to the small view of the scene playing out in front of you.

Watching through your peephole you sensed victory as a lease violation was, in fact, handed off to him. You cheered, a tad bit too loud, because once the noise escaped you, his eyes darted across the hall setting sights on your door.

Your hand clamped down on your mouth, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When he knocked, your eyes went wide. Pretend you’re not home, you thought to yourself. “3F, I know you’re home. I literally just heard you,” your eyes squeezed shut, muttering a silent fuck.

Opening the door, his fuming gaze met yours. “Hi, happy hump day to you. What can I do for you?” You gave a large smile, happy to finally feel in control of the situation as he held up the paper.

“A lease violation. Seriously? You know this is a $145 fine, right?” You shrugged, acting as uninterested as possible, motioning your head down the hall to the other lone door on this hallway. “Don’t know. Maybe 1F got tired of it. Anyways, not my problem, but you have a great night.” A look skirted across his face that said do you really think I’m buying that before he spoke up, again.

“You know if you had asked nicely I would have gladly been more accommodating-” you cut him off, holding a hand up as you did. “Oh, I did! You chose to ignore it!” He shook his head, a small chuckle falling from him. “No, you did not. Slipping an anonymous note under my door, demanding that I be more quiet is not a friendly way of handling the situation.”

You stood staring at him in astonishment. That’s not what you had done. The note was very well thought out and precise in how you worded your request. Did you include the specific rule from the lease? Sure, but how else was he supposed to know it was against the rules?

He started back up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, now you’ve asked for it.” Your brows drew together, scoffing in response. “Look dude, all I want is to come home and relax after a day of work. You ruin that,” he shrugged at your words. “And that noise is my work.”

You couldn’t contain the gut punching laugh that fell from you at the absurd claim. “You’re telling me that being loud is your job?” He nodded his head, bottom lip lightly pushing out as he did. “You haven’t even asked my name 3F,” your arms crossed over your chest. “Because I’m not interested in knowing it. 2F suffices.”

His head slightly tilted at you, emotions displaying as he thought. It was like he was trying to figure you out. More than likely trying to figure out all the possible ways to piss you off. “Well, I would like to know yours.” You shake your head, deciding to end this conversation, stepping back into your home and closing the door with a no thanks being offered to him in return.

2F had said now you’ve asked for it. What the hell did he mean by that? That’s what all of your thoughts had been about since you had closed the door in his face. It had been a little over a week since that day and despite the normal abhorrent noise, nothing else had happened.

Until you received a knock on your door.

Confused because you weren’t expecting anyone, you opened the door, a large smile gracing your face as you saw your property manager there, he offered a sad smile as he took you in. “Hi, Mr. Jameson! How’re you?” He sighed, a folded paper in his hands as he looked at his shoes.

“Great and I’m sorry to be doing this, but I have to give you this and advise you to heed it well.” Your face must have displayed how muddled you were feeling because he sighed again, turning and walking down the hall.

You opened it right there, crumpling it in your hand and storming across the hall, banging on his door as you did. When he pulled it open, his head had a tilt and a smirk on his stupid smug face. “3F! What brings you to my neck of the woods this fine evening?” You shoved the paper in his face, knowing he couldn’t read it because of the state it was in and the close location to his face, but you didn’t care.

“Disorderly conduct of a neighbor! Are you joking? This is literally what you do every single day,” he tsked at you, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did. “No, that’s what you do. According to the lease you are not to pester and harass your neighbors which,” he looked back up at you from his screen, “is exactly what you’re doing right now.”

You huffed, feeling anger coursing through your veins as you stared at the devilish little man. “I am not harassing you!” He sighed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest as he did. “I mean, you are. The note, the first interaction, storming over here and pounding on my door, that’s harassment 3F.”

He couldn’t contain the laughter being held in his throat as he saw how irritated and befuddled you were. “You are such a dick.” You mumbled out, going back to your own apartment. Not only had he cost you your sanity, but actual money. Paper currency. He wasn’t going to get away with this.

Absolutely not. For the next two weeks the noise never ceased. You kept your distance though, not particularly fond of getting another lease violation charge added to your account. Instead, you took another route.

Being the bigger person, of course. You frosted the last cupcake, smiling at how uniform they all appeared. It was your olive branch. You were known for your baking, every holiday season you were asked to bring some form of baked goods. It was relaxing and a sort of therapy to you.

As you knocked on the door, it opened with a woosh of air and you offered a kind smile to him. The kindest one you had yet. The tray was balanced on both your hands, a dozen cupcakes sat on it, and you could see he was taken aback by the offering.

“Look, I apologize. I am the type of person who prefers ambiance and low volume noise compared to blasting whatever it is you play. Everyone has their preferences, I get it. Here is my peace offering.” You handed the tray over to him, pointing to one that sat in the middle.

“Eat that one first, it’s my special recipe that everyone raves about. I don’t make it for just anyone so enjoy it.” He was dumbfounded, standing there holding the tray, speechless for the first time since you had met him. “Thank you!” He called out as you shut the door behind you.

The son of a bitch didn’t even attempt to apologize. Instead, he just took the damn cupcakes without even so much as the beginning of an apology. That’s why you didn’t feel bad. Not in the slightest.

When he appeared at your door the next morning as you were leaving for work, you were surprised to see him up. Well, not that surprising. “You fucking poisoned me!” You rolled your eyes, locking your door and adjusting the bag on your shoulder.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. It was a little miralax in the one singular cupcake,” you checked the watch on your wrist and began walking down the hallway, calling out to him as you did. “Oops, I’m going to be late and I wouldn’t want to harass you anymore. Have a good one, 2F!” A cackle bounced off the walls as he groaned, running back into his apartment as you sauntered off.

Okay, maybe you did feel bad. In your defense, the jackass deserved it. He couldn’t be nice to his neighbors despite their numerous attempts so you had to do what you had to do. Should you have put a laxative in the cupcake? Debatable.

But you couldn’t spend a lot of time dwelling on it. You did what you did and screw being the bigger person. Not with him at least. You were a good person. A kind person. He just seemingly brought out the worst in you for some reason.

All you wanted to do was slap that stupid smug look off his face that always seemed to be there. Expressing your anger in the form of violence sounded especially intriguing on a Sunday evening as you heard the remnants of a party happening across the hall. You were snuggled into bed, ready to call it for the night when you realized that it wasn’t just the normal throbbing of music he offered, but a plethora of voices shouting as well.

You honestly could have burst into tears on the spot. You had work early in the morning, not wanting to deal with the shit storm that this work week was going to be offering you, and he was over there being the most assholey asshole that you had ever encountered.

Remembering your christmas gift from your best friend had been a state of the art pair of noise canceling headphones meant you were running to put them on and they had been your savor that night. Uncomfortable to sleep with, of course, but at least you could sleep.

The work day was exactly what you had been expecting. Wanting nothing more than to come home and spend the evening trying to destress was halted as you rounded the corner for your door.

Bile rose in your throat as you approached your front door. Your hand went over your mouth, the stench of garbage flowing from the hall. A tremor appeared in your hand as anger surged in you, never having felt such animosity before in your life. Both of your fists pounded on his doors until he appeared, extremely hungover, but munching on an apple like he didn’t have a care in the world at the moment.

You pointed to the piles of trash that sat blocking your door, a fire dancing in your eyes as you stared at him, speaking through clenched teeth. “Get your fucking garbage off of my door. Now,” he looked around you, seeing the piles of trash and shrugged.

“Not my trash, 3F.” You didn’t have the energy for these games tonight. “Move your fucking trash. I know it’s yours. I know you had a fucking party on a goddamn Sunday. It is yours. Move it.” He was entirely unfazed, shaking his head as he took the last bite of his apple.

“Like I said. Not my trash. Have a good night,” your mouth hung open as you watched him toss the apple core onto the bags of trash sitting at your doorstep. It took you almost an hour to get all of the tash bags moved to the trash shoot.

After that night, you didn’t retaliate. He carried on in his normal irritating ways, but you couldn’t bring it in yourself to care. The headphones constantly rested on your scalp now, never leaving anymore. You connected the television to them, played your own enjoyable music, or just sat in the quiet. They were an actual god send.

Work had been driving you up the wall, no problems could seemingly be handled without you and it was driving you mad. You enjoyed being good at your job, knowing you were succeeding and that people turned to you for answers to issues and questions was rewarding, but it seemed now that it was more about everyone turning to you for any little thing they could.

It’s why your best friend suggested going out one night to relieve the stress and tension from the work week. You jumped at the opportunity, going to your favorite bar and wanting to enjoy spending some time out and about, allowing yourself to think about anything other than the two most annoying things in your life right now.

Work and 2F.

You were standing at the bar, ready to order your first of what would be many drinks for the evening when you heard it. His voice. He had saddled up beside you, eliciting a groan to fall from your lips. “If it isn’t my favorite neighbor! What brings you out? I thought you hated enjoying things? It’s quite loud in here, are you going to report it?” You rolled your eyes, opting to ignore him and catch the attention of the bartender.

“Two Moscow Mules!” You shouted out, seeing him nod as you went to hand over your card, 2F spoke up. “Put all her and her friends drinks on my tab. Thanks, bud!” You shot daggers at him, shaking your head and going to hand the card over anyways.

“Absolutely not! Here’s my card,” his hand came over yours, pushing your hand back, a large smile taking over his features. “I insist! Especially after that hefty lease violation fine. It’s on me!” He turned and walked away towards his own group as you were handed your two drinks, fuming as you walked back towards her.

She giggled, nudging her head in the direction he had gone in. “Who the hell was that? He’s fucking hot! I hope you keep tabs on him for the night,” you let a forced shiver roll down your spine, gagging as she spoke. “That’s my fucking neighbor from hell! The little goblin put our drinks on his tab. How stupid is that shit?”

She choked on her drink, coughing as she laughed. “No fucking shit! Oh my god I had no idea he looked like that. If he were my neighbor he would be making all the noise he wanted to. Particularly at my place. In my bed! And I think he has the same idea because he bought your drinks,” she batted her eyelashes at you as she sipped her drink again. You waved her off, downing your drink.

“You’re disgusting! We’re not like that. At all!” She shrugged pointing in his direction. “Oh really? Then why is he staring at you like he wants to take you into the dingiest bathroom he can find and rail you?” Your face burned at her words, letting your eyes glance in the direction he was in and noticing his eyes locked on you.

You set your drink down, moving back towards the bar once you noticed that his attention was back on his group, back turned towards you. Getting the bartender's attention you leaned over and handed him your card. “That guy over there? Put his drinks and his group drinks on this card, don’t charge his card,” he nodded his head, taking the card and taking another drink order for you.

Sporadically throughout the night, you could feel eyes on you. You knew exactly who it was. Why he couldn’t keep his own attention on his own group instead of eyeing you all night, you had no idea, but it was starting to get beyond annoying. He had, quite literally, the largest eyes you had ever seen so it wasn’t like he could hide where he was looking. Not like he was trying to either.

The night had been fun apart from your own personal stalker. Many laughs were shared between friends, one drink too many, but as the night wound down and you went to collect your card, the bartender assured you that 2F’s tab had been charged to your card. With your friend having slipped out a bit ago, you sat on a stool at one end of the bar, watching as 2F’s group left, having him head to the bar and collect his card.

You laughed seeing his face show one of confusion after being told his tab had been taken care of for the night. You watched as he mouthed who and as the bartender pointed at you, his head whipped towards your direction. You gave a wave, hopping from your stool and leaving the bar.

When you got home, you fumbled with your keys as you tried to unlock your door. “3F!” You sighed, turning in defeat as you heard his voice echo in the hallway. “Yes, 2F?” He walked towards you, hands in his jacket pockets as he stood in front of you. His hand came from the pocket and your eyes went wide as you saw the amount of money he placed in your hand.

You shook your head, trying to shove it back in his own hand. “That’s for picking up my tab at the bar, your tab at the bar, a cleaning service to come and clean your apartment for me placing the trash bags at your door, and for the lease violation.” Your jaw hung slack, not able to formulate any words, eyes looking up to meet his and see the soft gaze that sat on his face.

“Oh my god, no. I can’t accept this. Take it, 2F.” He shook his head, putting his hands back in his pockets. A small laugh fell from his lips as he eyed you. “Josh. My name is Josh,” shaking your head, your eyes shut, an exasperated breath leaving you.

“I don’t want your money, Josh. That is absolutely the last thing I want or need from you,” he took a step back as you tried to shove it at him. Your jaw set, irritation bubbling in your system at how stupid he was being. In what world would you just accept a huge chunk of cash like this? There wasn’t a world where it would happen. You wouldn’t.

Instead you stepped around him with a shrug, hearing his laugh as you crouched down. “What are you doing?” One by one you slipped the bills under his door. “I told you I’m not taking your money.” You could hear the frustrated intake of breath as you continued with your task, not noticing when he stood to the side of you, unlocking his door and opening it.

Your neck fell back to peer up at him with a scowl on your face. You weren’t even halfway through with the stack of money. Reaching your arm up and forward, you hand grabbed onto the cool metal of the door handle and yanked it towards you, shutting the door as you two stared at one another.

Letting your head fall back so your eyes could once again focus on the task you were trying to work on, you heard him let out a shaky laugh. “You are so fucking stubborn,” you only mumbled out a response, almost done with the cash when he crouched down to your level, locking your eyes to his.

When you turned your head to face him, your noses nearly brushed against one another with how close he was to you. The smell of tequila was on his breath, you were sure yours had faint notes of vodka and ginger beer, but you were rooted to your spot. Not necessarily making any move to lean away from him or go further towards the man.

His dark brown eyes had an almost ombre effect, you noted. Unlike most people who had the lighter hue near their iris, the eye growing darker the closer to the edge you got, his did the opposite. They were so dark near his iris that the chocolate practically melted into it. The outer color only got slightly warmer, only noticeable from this closeness. You could get lost in them for hours if you had the time to. Prick.

The cupid's bow of his lips were not sharp, rather they rounded off at the top peaks, only marginally dipping down to give the plush skin a break. One thing you had taken into account upon the many interactions you had with him was that they were never chapped. Quite the opposite. Always glistening like he had just swiped his pink tongue along them. The picturesque teeth that you could have sworn were veneers from farther away, but upon closer inspection were his actual chompers. Bastard.

A perfect nose. You were envious of it. What man needed a nose like that? Entirely unfair, you noted to yourself. He had some of the unruliest eyebrows you had ever laid your eyes on, but for some reason it worked. The unkempt hair paired well with the faux curls that were always a permed out mess. Why did you like it so much then? Asshole.

While you took stock of who was taking up your personal space, he was doing the same. Reveling in the closeness to you. How your kneecap would knock against his every few moments, the hollowed out divet in the base of your neck as you took in stabilizing breaths, the flutter of your eyelids as you were attempting to process the situation you two were in.

Josh took the opportunity that was being presented to him on a silver platter, knowing there was not going to be a better chance than now to act on this. The feeling of enamorment he had been reeling in since he had first set his eyes on you all those months ago. Trying to decide how to approach you, but when you approached him he was elated. Until the ridiculous feud began between you two.

He was going to bridge the gap. Leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, hand cradling the soft skin of your jaw, lightly pulling you closer to him. You didn’t fight it. Not in the slightest. Instead, savoring it. How the feeling of him moving against you seemed to set you alight. Tingling from either the amount of time you had been crouched down or the nerves erupting in you with joy. Excitement. Yearning.

You moved to deepen this. Letting your mouth fall open in greeting to him to explore you, learn you, relish you. When the tip of his tongue accosted yours, the noise that ruptured from within you was a mixture of a sigh and moan, feeling the heavenly encounter for the first time was unlike anything you had ever experienced before in your life. If you could have it bottled up to revisit whenever you wanted to or needed to, you would.

2F took it as a welcoming invitation to continue on. A sense of relief washed over him, knowing you were indulging in this, accepting this, trembling for this just as much as he was. He wanted to chase you back to him when you retreated, breath stuttering in your throat, almost pained to come to a stop, even if just for a second.

Your eyes opened, meeting his and you stood, taking his hand with yours and moving back towards your door, silently asking him to come with you. He followed instantaneously, swallowing thickly as you turned to open the door and lead him into your home. The sanctuary he had been destroying for months.

His hands found home on your waist, tilting your head to the side as he pressed himself against your back, the warmth of his breath fanned across the skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He wasn’t rushing, skilled hands knowing exactly what to do despite the slight tremor giving away the nerves that played at him despite his calm demeanor.

As his mouth worked your pulse point, your hands sat on his, lightly squeezing as your breathing grew deeper. Uneven. Josh turned you around in his grasp, you wasted no time, letting your fingers card through his hair as his arms encircled you.

His scent was intoxicating, something that made your head swim and cloud over with pure arousal. The feel of his facial hair running along your smooth skin had you pining. Your tongues danced in a rehearsed manner despite never having mingled before, but it felt known. Comfortable. Soothing.

Despite your pleas and desperate noises, Josh pulled away from you. His hands moved to cup your cheeks, forcing your eyes to meet. “I’m not going to fuck you without knowing your name.” You swallowed slowly, his thumb skirting across your lower lip as you whispered it out.

He repeated it, eyes shut as he let it settle. You had never felt more one way than the other about your name, but as soon as it was graced from leaving his lips, you never wanted to hear another person say it again unless it was coming from him.

Josh’s hands had lost their unsure hesitancy, moving to the underside of your shirt with poise and steadiness. His fingertips gripped and removed it, letting you two reconnect once more, not wanting to lose the contact again.

The pure temperature of his body was setting you on fire, your skins nearly sizzling as they pressed against each other. As Josh made his ascent from your mouth towards your chest, leaving peppered kisses along the way, your mind was reeling.

Unable to form coherent thoughts, any chance of intelligent sentences thrown out the window as he took a perched nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the perked bud.

Your breath caught in your throat, back arching into his chest. A smile played at his occupied lips, his free hand traveling from the curve of your waist to your abandoned breast. As his teeth held your nipple, his fingers twisted the other, eliciting strong moans to release from the confines of you.

When he switched, he didn’t give you even a nanosecond to catch your breath, continuing his motions. “Pl-please, Josh.” His doe eyes peered up at you, hooded with lust and a fire burning in them as he heard you moan his name for the first time.

“What, baby? What do you need me to do?” Instinctively, your legs widened further, the small cloth covering your core dampened beyond belief, signaling your need for him. Wanting nothing more than for him to touch you.

He shook his head, grabbing your chin in between his fingers, making you look at him. His voice was deeper, a gravelly tone accompanying it. “I need to hear your words, sweet girl.”

Your head fell back, arms crossing over your face as you decided how bluntly you wanted to put this. Deciding you simply did not care, you groaned out, “Touch me, use me, demolish me. I don’t care, just please, fuck me, Josh.”

Those seemed to be the magic words because in the blink of an eye your panties were gone, lost in the heap of discarded clothes, and your core felt his cold hands.

Gasping, eyes shooting open to watch this happen, his fingertips moved your lips. The sticky signs of your excitement stretched as he lightly traced his hands around you. “God, look at you. You’re a fucking mess,” his words came out under his breath and his thumb slipped in the slick, gathering it and bringing it to his lips.

As he sucked the digit into his mouth, your jaw slightly fell open. Watching Josh do this, act like this was mesmerizing. It was an entirely new side to him and it made you desperate for him.

Josh moved behind you, letting your confusion become evident as he smiled. He leaned back against your headboard, pulling you to lay in between his legs. As your back met his chest, your head against his shoulder and neck, his cheek against your forehead, you were alight in anticipation.

“Relax, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you,” his legs hooked around your own, forcing them to remain open. His fingers reached down, collecting your wetness once again, bringing it to his mouth. “I will never get tired of that taste.”

Too entranced in the display of him, you didn’t notice when his hand had disappeared down again, but when you felt his thumb press against your clit, a small, surprised yelp left you. A permanent smirk was on his lips, memorizing your reactions and movements for the first time.

Given how thoroughly soaked you were, when Josh’s middle finger slipped into your entrance it was met with no resistance. It offered a sense of relief, not near enough to satisfy the craving you were begging for.

Slowly moving his finger in and out, hearing the mess you were making on his finger, he quickly added another. As soon as the other entered you, he picked up his pace. Incoherent mumbling and moans tumbled from your lips as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to your release.

Josh offered words of praise as a silent scream escaped you, white light clogging your vision. You were contracting around his fingers, not wanting him to remove them, but it wasn’t enough.

You were incredibly needy for more. Turning around in his grasp, your hands landed on either of his thighs. Reaching your hand out, you cupped his stiff cock, gently squeezing, and pulling his head towards yours.

The sensation of his lips finding yours once again was palpable relief. You straddled him, having him remain where he originally was. The head of his cock rubbed against your slit, whimpers falling from both of your lips.

Letting yourself sink down onto him, your eyes remained shut, head falling back as you took him all. Josh’s arms closed around you, crushing you to his chest. Slowly starting to move, the stretched sensation began to subside, immense pleasure taking over.

His thrusts met your moves, both of you crying into the other's mouth, against their sweat covered skin, becoming one with each other. He alternated between leaving searing marks on your chest or neck, capturing your mouth, or uttering filthy words of encouragement.

The two of you were close to your finishes, chasing your highs, your hands tangled in his locks and pulling as you felt it crash into you at a blinding pace. Gasping for breath, his cum leaking out of you and back onto his still hard shaft, you two leisurely came down from your highs.

You didn’t make a move first, letting Josh kiss all over your skin, licking the sweat away that poured from you both. Your eyes didn’t want to open, too heavy with exhaustion to even try. He moved you off of his lap, wiping you clean with a towel, and kissing your forehead as you felt asleep.

When he left that night, you weren’t entirely sure what the next move was. Were things different? Absolutely. Was he still the prick that had been purposely fucking your life over for the last few months? Undoubtedly. Was he so attractive that your mouth went dry when you replayed certain aspects from the night before over in your mind? Unfortunately.

The actual peace offering. The real olive branch. The non-poisonous ones that is. They were sitting on a tray, perfectly frosted, sitting in the shape of a large smiley face. Now, there could be the possibility that just the sight of cupcakes could cause a visceral reaction, but you were going to take your bets.

Until the music started up.

Your head snapped up and in the direction of his apartment. Wide eyes, jaw set, and shoulders tensing at the unbelievably loud music. It didn’t even sound like the normal noise, instead like there was a concert happening a mere fifteen feet away from you.

Closing your eyes and forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you crossed the hall, tray in hand as you knocked on his door. There wasn’t an answer at first, so you knocked again, hearing a slew of voices on the other side of the wood. Maybe now wasn’t the time to do this if he had people over.

When he didn’t answer on the second knock you quickly turned, feeling your face warm in embarrassment. His door flew open, your name escaping his lips to get your attention. You cursed to yourself, turning back around and offering a sheepish smile. His grew exponentially when he saw what you had in hand.

You thrusted the tray towards him, trying not to peer behind him and see an audience watching this exchange. “For you. An actual I’m sorry for everything. Not spiked, promise,” you laughed at the end, doing the scouts honor salute. Before he could respond, someone who looked just like him appeared at the door.

The man’s eyes widened, a large beaming grin plastering on his features. “Oh my god, are you 3F?” A surprised expression took over your features, eyes darting between the two of them. Why did this stranger know who you were? Another figure appeared with the pair, startling you as he seemed to appear from thin air. He looked like the two, but stood a few inches taller than them.

“No way, 3F? We have heard so much about you!” The apples of Josh’s cheeks flushed red as he turned and handed the tray to the taller boy, speaking through clenched teeth as he did. “How about you shut the fuck up and go stuff these in your fat fucking hole, yeah?” You giggled at the exaggerated wink the boy offered him, taking the offering and looking back to you.

“Well, it was a real pleasure getting to meet you 3F. I do hope my brother has learned your actual name, but he has no game so,” Josh cut him off, shoving him inside and slamming the door behind the laughing pair.

His hands rubbed over his face, the tips of his ears burning like his face. “I am so sorry about them,” his thumb pointed over his shoulder in the direction where they had gone. You gently nudged him, wanting to egg him on. “Telling people about me, Josh?”

Watching his eyes go wide and hearing him stutter over his words was far too entertaining. “Oh, no, no. I mean I mentioned some of the stuff to them and look they’re my little brothers so it’s like their thing to make my life as awkward as possible, like you should see some of the band interviews with them doing this shit-” you cut him off, eyebrows furrowing at his words.

“You’re in a band?” He took in a short breath, head bobbing in response. “Greta Van Fleet. That’s what we’re called. That’s what the noise is that you’ve been subjected to for the last few months. It’s our new album and I get spurts of ideas at random times,” you nodded, finally beginning to understand his point of view.

You eyed him, arms crossing. “Should’ve told me that. Maybe this all could have been avoided.” It was time. Time to be the bigger person.

Josh stood next to the table, dressed in a suit that perfectly encapsulated the entire being and existence that he is. The microphone in his hand, a glass of champagne in the other, speaking out to the guests in attendance.

It was his incredibly long winded speech that everyone had been anticipating. The man did not know when to stop talking, but as his tale was about to wrap up, his eyes fell to you, sitting next to him. “Anyways, I’m not entirely sure what that story of Danny, Sam, and the giraffe have to do with this, but-” laughter flowed around the room at his tangent, your eyes filled with love and adoration as he held your gaze, “I am so glad my plan of being a complete neighbor from hell worked because I truly didn’t know how else to talk to you. I saw you when I was moving in and felt like the gods had sent you to change the entire directory of my life. You are my everything, my entire life, and I cannot wait to craft the rest of our story together.”

You weren’t sure if you should have been happy or down right pissed, but as his co-best men all stood, raising their glasses, you wanted to table it. “To Mr. and Mrs. Kiszka!” The cheers erupted around the room, sipping from your glass and letting your husband lightly peck your lips before taking his seat.

“So your entire plan was being the biggest pain in the ass you could and hoping you would land me that way?” You leaned into his side as he beamed at you, leaning further towards you, lips landing on your cheek. “Yes, and it worked, my darling girl,” you rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your glass as he snickered in your ear, your giggles mixing with his as you watched his twin begin prepping for his turn.

Jake stood dead center of the room, microphone in hand as he began his speech. “Hello all. I want to say a quick congratulations to my brother and his wife. If there’s anything anyones ever been told it’s about being the bigger person. That’s not the case tonight. Joshy boy, strap in. Now, everyone knows my brother peed the bed until he was eleven years old.”

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