#j.c. chang

[chyyldofdasun]

By J.C. Chang

[eroserotique]

J.C. Chang

[queer-book-character-tournament]

Character, book, and author names under the cut

Princess Amira/Princess Sadie- Princess Princess Ever After by Kay O'Neill

Chang Geng/Gu Yun- Sha Po Lang/Stars of Chaos by Priest

Shen Zhuo/Bai Sheng- Hui Tian by Huai Shang

Nike Wehner/Georgette Kalinin- Anarchie Deco by J.C. Vogt 

[wanderingmind867]

Well, the Storm Runner ending reminds me of the ending of The Kane Chronicles. They both end in this very meta way, encouraging readers to find them. Kane Chronicles invites people to Brooklyn House, and The Storm Runner encourages other godborns to reach out to Zane. Who knew Mesoamerica and Egypt would be so similar?

I also like that Zane gets his dog back. She's become a hellhound now, but she's still the same old dog underneath. Also, I initially didn't like the fact that Zane had to fake his death to escape the god's wrath, but i made peace with it quickly. I liked this book for the most part, honestly. I like i'm able to finish the other two books in the series before school ends.

[moviereviews101web]

The Bridge Curse: Ritual (2023) Movie Review

The Bridge Curse Ritual – Movie Review Director: Lester Hsi (Gourmet Affairs) Writer: Keng-Ming Chang, Po-Hsiang Hao, Shih-yuan Lu (Screenplay) Cast Ning Chang (Dear Loneliness) J.C. Lin (Plurality) Summer Meng (Single Day) Yu-Xuan Wang (Little Blue) Vera Yen (I Missed You) Plot: An architect disrupted the school during construction and turned it into supernatural entities. Years later,…

[tamayula-hl]

Happy 2nd Anniversary! 🎉

I’m so glad that on this day, two years ago, I was able to meet these two charming and amazing boys who have changed my life. I will always be completely captivated by them!

Thanks to the following references and to J.C. Leyendecker! https://x.com/theposearchives/status/1426046212419981316

[noosphe-re]

D.C.: Then art as you define it is a discipline of adaptation to the real as it is. It doesn't propose to change the world, it accepts it as it presents itself. By dint of breaking our habits, it habituates us more effectively. J.C.: I don't think so. There is one term of the problem which you are not taking into account: precisely, the world. The real. You say: the real, the world as it is. But it is not, it becomes! It moves, it changes! It doesn't wait for us to change...It is more mobile than you can imagine. You are getting closer to this reality when you say as it "presents itself"; that means that it is not there, existing as an object. The world, the real is not an object. It is a process.

For the Birds: John Cage in Conversation with Daniel Charles

[2knightt]

「 tell me about it, stud. 」

IN WHICH—you’re sandy and he’s danny!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. J.C, D.W, PB.C, SP.C!࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ tumblr please let me answer asks. people have been so sweet to me lately please tumblr

Johnny Cade ;

you met johnny during summer. you were at the beach and he looked lost, darting his head all around as if he was just teleported there.

you walked up to him, tapping him on the shoulder.

"you alright?"

johnny stuttered nonsense, unable to speak as he whipped his head around to look at you. his lips parted slightly as he looked you up and down, his head moving along with his eyes.

you chuckled awkwardly, crossing your arms as you tried to signal him to answer your question.

“oh. ye-yeah, totally. i, uhm… you’re really pretty.”

he mumbled the last part, rubbing his neck as he kicked the sand. he avoided making eye contact with you, either nervous or embarrassed. probably both.

johnny didn’t even mean to say it out loud. now he just looks like a bumbling idiot instead of a cool greaser. he sighed, biting the inside of his cheek.

you laugh quietly, saying a quick ‘thank you,’ before extending a hand out towards him.

“i’m y/n.”

“…johnny cade.”

he said it so hushed you almost thought his name was ‘johnnycake.’ he took your hand in his, shaking it.

and that’s how you met the greaser that took up your whole summer.

your friends gasp, giggling like school girls as they pretend to fan themselves off.

“did you get his number?”

“was he cute?”

“tell me more!”

johnny sighs as sodapop and dallas pressed him for more information on his soc girl he apparently had a whole lotta fun with.

two-bit was laughing like he didn’t believe it, ponyboy looked suspicious, steve was rolling his eyes right next to darry.

“did ya get very far?”

dallas teases, laughing as he grins like a cat. soda bursts out laughing, slapping his knee.

“can it, dal.”

johnny grumbled, crossing his arms as he huffs.

two-bit leans forward towards his friend, snickering. ponyboy and steve follow his actions, elbows on their shoulders.

“well, tell me more, johnnycakes!”

“yeah, tell us more, loverboy.”

Dallas Winston ;

“y/n?!”

“dallas?!”

you shout, you were both shocked. well—maybe you were a little more scared than anything.

you were just talking about him to your friends and he just shows up outta nowhere?!

dallas would be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little giddy at the sight of you, smiling ever so slightly.

after the summer the two of you had, how could he not be excited to see you again?

you rush to the bleachers, basically running up the stairs as your friends follow closely behind.

you stand infront of him, a seat down. dallas looks down at you, nervous on how he was gonna approach the situation.

“wha-what’re you doin’ here?! i-i thought you were leavin’ tulsa!”

“we had a change of plans!”

dallas shoves his hands in his pockets as he jumps down to be on the same level as you.

you grin, practically jumping. dallas was smiling, ear to ear as he looked you up and down.

he looked happy seeing you, a genuine smile on his face until he glances over to his friends. but that smile quickly faded, realizing he was still with his friends. he fixed his jacket, making the collar stand up.

“that’s cool, baby. rock n’ roll.”

you furrow your brows, wondering who this guy was. was this seriously the dallas winston you spent all your time with?

“you sure this him?”

a friend of yours asks, whispering in your ear as she glares at his own gang of buddies.

you look over to her, back to dallas, then back to her. you shrug, turning around. you were getting ready to leave before you felt a hand on your wrist, stopping you from moving.

dallas puts something in your hand, closing it himself. he rests his hand ontop of yours, staring at you.

you got a little nervous the longer he stared, clearing your throat so he’d stop.

dallas couldn’t believe what he was seeing. you were beautiful during the summer and you’re even more beautiful now. he didn’t realize how creepy he looked until you coughed.

“it was nice seein’ you again, doll.”

he mumbled before rushing to his friends as they whistle and cheer.

you chuckle, walking off the bleachers. you open your hand, seeing a cigarette with a ring wrapped around it. you had told him you don’t smoke all that much, what a dunce.

is what you thought until you looked closer, seeing a phone number written into it. you grin, putting the ring on and placing the cigarette in your pocket.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you two had been seeing each other for awhile, had a thing going on since summer.

met at the beach when he was with some smaller, tanned, sad looking kid. you thought he was the cutest boy there and went up to him.

when he saw you walking towards him, he felt his heart begin to race. he knew he seemed like a loser talking to you, feeling like an imposter wearing all that hair grease.

ponyboy and you were at this dinner, eating a shared ice cream sundae. you had your menus covering the two of you, just incase somebody saw.

you two were very different at first glance. he had a sweatshirt with the sleeves ripped off, dirty jeans, and greasy hair. you had your clothes freshly ironed, hair done just right, and didn’t smell like gasoline because of your brother.

the both of you were giggling like school girls, talking about everyone and everything.

ponyboy opened his mouth to speak until the menus were suddenly tossed off to the side by three people. by the reaction pony had, you can only assume he knew the guys.

“sharin’ a sundae already? tsk, tsk, tsk.”

one of them teased with a thick new york accent. you can guess this is dallas winston.

“wow, pony. must really like ‘er, huh?”

he was shirtless and had his sleeves ripped off his shirt too. it looked like a work uniform, the hat he was wearing confirming your suspicions.

“cut it out, steve.”

pony grumbles, crossing his arms as he leans back into the chair. you look at the only one that hasn’t spoken yet, smiling at him.

ponyboy gives him a sad excuse for a smile. it suddenly clicks in your head, that’s pony’s brother, right? sodapop? now that you’re looking at him, you don’t know what ponyboy was talking about. they do look alike—but you think pony’s cuter than he is.

“gonna get married?”

the two of them laugh, holding their stomachs as they stumble back. dallas slams his hands on the table, looking at you. he looks back to ponyboy, grinning.

pony’s eyebrows furrow as he glares at his friend. he rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth in annoyance.

“so, who’s you?”

“she’s real pretty pony, how’d you get her?”

“must’ve bribed her or somethin’.”

ponyboy groans, hiding his face in his hands. you chuckle, almost entertained with everything they’re saying.

“can you guys just leave us alone?”

dallas shakes his head no, mumbling a quiet, ‘nah,’ as steve follows his actions. soda looks at ponyboy with sympathy in his eyes before smacking steve’s shoulder, pushing him towards the door. dallas follows quickly behind.

the three of them leave, but not before teasing the poor boy, leaving him a blushing mess.

“i am so sorry, y/n.”

“it’s fine, really!”

the rest of the time, he kept on apologizing. you enjoyed the sundae by yourself due to ponyboy being a blushing, embarrassed, and angry mess the rest of the time.

Sodapop Curtis ;

it was the end of the school year and your school somehow racked up the money to get a mini little fair.

you and your friends walking around as you were eyeing the ferris wheel. you tried to cox each of your friends to join you on the ride and each turning you down.

you huffed, snarling after your 5th rejection to go have fun. you cross your arms, visibly annoyed. out of pettiness, you walk off to a stand.

two people were throwing pies at their friends, four others were throwing bean bags at bowling pins. you spaced out, thinking about god knows what. shit, you didn’t even know what was so important.

someone tapped on the right side of your shoulder, so you turned your head, trying to see.

“hey, sugar.”

you hear in a hushed voice from your left side. you whip your head around, meeting sodapops gaze. you blink, shocked a little.

“soda?”

“yeah! didn’t think you’d remember me.”

he smiled, his eyes shinning ever so slightly. he jumps infront of you, looking nervous. he looks you up and down before letting out a sigh, full of admiration.

you met sodapop during the summer. it was supposed to be a summer fling, something every high school kid wants.

soda treated you real well. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. soda would be lying if he said he didn’t lay awake at night thinking of your memories together.

“how couldn’t i?”

you ask, chuckling lightly. you tilt your head, grinning. as the two awkward teenagers you are, you stood in silence.

you shifted your weight from the tips of your toes to your heels. you looked down, eyes shifting around. you looked up, noticing his eyes didn’t move an inch.

“so…you wanna go on the ferris wheel with me?”

you ask, trying to fill the silence. soda grins, a special shine in his eye at the mention of the ride. a strand of honey-brown hair fell over his face as he nodded.

“yeah. sounds real fun.”

soda grabs your hand, rushing you towards the line to get onto the ferris wheel. the two of you stand in line, joking, laughing, giggling.

soda never let go of your hand, even when the both of you enter the cart. you sat down, extending your body out the small little window to look down. you see your friends, standing in line to another ride.

you felt soda’s hand snake around your waist, a gentle but a firm grip. he held you like he was afraid you were gonna fall out of the cart.

when you two reach the top, you lean back into the seat, the cold plastic still making you shiver, even with a leather jacket on. sure, it wasn’t the best jacket when you’re on a ferris wheel. but how were you supposed to know?

hell, leather jackets weren’t even your style! you’ve never worn anything like this. it’s only natural you don’t know.

soda wrapped an arm around your torso, pulling you closer. he noticed your shiver and he felt bad. he wanted to offer his jacket but the words just couldn’t seem to leave his lips.

you looked up at the sky, a small smile creeping onto your face as you get an odd sense of comfort from it. it was a clear blue, fluffy clouds appearing every now and then. one looked like a chicken.

“it’s real pretty, ain’t it, soda?”

you mumble, your eyes scanning the sky for anymore funny looking clouds. you sighed, your once tense shoulders relaxing.

“yeah, real pretty.”

sodapop says quietly. he lied, though. he wasn’t really looking at the sky. he’s glancing everywhere—but the sky, everywhere but the ground. he’s not looking anywhere, expect at you.

you ain’t never worn a leather jacket. you never smelled like smoke, you never done anything like this. soda’d be lying if he said you weren’t a sight for sore eyes.

[maxfriedss]

baby doll

ben rice interacts with you a total of 22 times before she kisses you.

the number is ironic—yet she still hates it. maybe hate is a strong word but it fits now. the previous 22, one who’s name would whispered and still earn the roar of angry new yorkers, is lone gone, much to her oblige. stuck in the stadium practically across the street for a long and grueling fifteen years. boone had suggest the number change, surprisingly.

“you’re a full time professional now,” he’d stated one meeting, giving one of her broad shoulders, the action jostling her just a bit. “you need to prove yourself, and i think you can.”

you come in a week later.

you’re young—a rookie catcher with softness of a doe and an arm of a sniper. you’re quiet, too. you don’t really speak unless needed, mostly hanging around people of the same caliber, max fried, paul goldschmidt, and dj lemahieu to name a few. ben can’t help but feel entranced.

the first day you meet, you replace ben’s feeble attempt of a handshake with a small and awkward upturn of your lips, murmuring a statistic about how it’s really safer to kiss then receive touch from a random individual.

ben elbows j.c. in the stomach when he laughs.

you don’t speak much after that. you, j.c., and austin alternate game days between catcher, the use of all three of your arms keeping the team together in a way. like a missing puzzle piece.

something in ben’s chest aches when she sees you laughing gently on the bench one day. one of max’s dumb dad jokes from the looks of it, and with the way goldy’s barely there smile shines under the stadium lights she can tell he learned it from him.

she’s at your locker that same night.

“you don’t talk much,” ben points out, winching at the sheer stupidity of her voice—a bit too loud and cracking slightly—before settling for a small smile, cheeks curling around soft dimples and showing a charming flash of two bunny like teeth in the front of her mouth.

“is that a problem?” you question, and it makes her blink. your voice is soft in her ears. like velvet.

“no, no!” she stammers, pink lips mashing together in order to stop them from spewing more nonsense, a flush of maroon gathering at the apples of her cheeks. “that’s nice! not that you don’t talk- talkings great, i-i love talking.”

the smile you give her practically burns.

you form a slight…friendship after that. if you can even call it a friendship—it’s basically her just talking your ear off and giving her little mumbled feedback.

tonight—day 22—is unexpected, in a way.

the game, a close knit one against their city rival mets, hobbles into extra innings. it’s something that has both the team and the stadium holding its breath with each pitch, from both the mets bullpen and your own.

j.c.’s on base, ironically. catcher trying to send another catcher home for the win, and ben finds herself losing her breath when you give the ball a rough hit—sending it through the middle of the infield and letting it roll around.

the memories are a bit faded for the both of you—you because you’re basically blacked out from excitement and ben because she’s just so damn proud.

ben and max do the gatorade bath, and she can’t help but relish in the way you let out a shocked yelp, shaking away the biting freeze of ice and water before getting blindside by a towel—courtesy of judge.

there’s something that tugs at her chest after the postgame celebration, thick and warm like honey when she sees you standing by your locker. hair braided neatly, but still damp.

“bambi,” she murmurs, gentle not to startle you and because she can’t not be around you.

“me, j.c, wellsy, and volpe were thinking about going out for drinks after.” ben explains, scratching at the nape of her neck hesitantly before lowering it. “figured you’d come since you’re the one who walked it off.”

you pause your fiddling with the edge of your bag.

“i dunno,” you mumble, giving her a small smile at the name. you turn, tucking a stray hair behind your neck, before sitting down on one of the benches. “i don’t do bars.”

for some reason, ben’s not surprised. the image of you drinking something stronger than soda at a bar feels wrong.

she walks over, perching herself at the end of the bench you’re sitting on. she leans over, tilting her head to try and see the look on your face.

“why not?”

you give her a momentary look of dryness, a small you know me resting on the tip of your tongue. but you’re not truly sure if she knows you, so you bite it back. “not my place.” you explain, giving a gentle shrug. “i like staying at home, i guess.”

ben hums, knowing there’s something else hidden in it but not digging further. maybe another day.

“that’s fair,” she says. “a homebody.”

as if it isn’t already obvious, her eyes scan you over. a plain old baseball tee, one she’s seen you wearing more than once from the way it’s wrinkled and loose. she wants to reach out and feel the material, see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“do you think you’re going to go home after this is all over?” ben asks suddenly, eyes still fixated on the thin fabric of your shirt.

she’s trying to ignore the way her mind supplies an image of you in her own shirt, swallowed up in the material and with the hem resting just at your mid thighs. dumb, dumb, dumb.

“yeah,” you answer, eyes searching hers before they drift down to where they sit—locked in on the exposed skin of her collarbones. “probably put on a movie or something.”

she wants to believe the look in your eyes is what most would call lustful, but she’s had too many of those from fans and knows that’s not what’s being displayed on your face.

it’s curiosity. desire, but in a more intimate way. you wanting to know her.

it makes her shift a little bit, her hands fidgeting with the material of her pants.

“that sounds relaxing,” she murmurs, and ben doesn’t mean for the comment to come off as breathy as it did.

“i would offer to come over,” she blurts out then, regretting pooling in her body immediately,

it’s almost funny. the way you still just stare at her with those big doe eyes of yours, but she can see the slight change at her words. the way your chin tilts up, jaw setting and chest moving up and down as you breathe.

“…you would?”

it doesn’t help when you speak, either. your voice is soft and melodic to her ears, even when it’s pitched up in a sign of surprise. a lot of people compare her voice to chocolate—deep and smooth, thick when she’s tired.

yours? it’s soft, kind of sweet, a bit airy. it soothes ben.

“i would,” she confirms, meeting your eyes and ignoring the way her heart beats out of her chest under her ribs.

“we could-“

she stops, biting her lower lip as she contemplates her next words. her mind fills with a different picture, one that makes her flush. it’s you, under her on the couch, whining softly and with hands gripping the couch fabric. the thought is tantalizing.

the rational part of ben, the part that makes her a decent player, tells her that you don’t want that. it’s too fast, too quick. you won’t like—

a hand on her knee snaps her out of it, and ben realizes that you’ve scooted closer.

“the offers nice,” you murmur, giving the bone of her knee a gentle squeeze. “but you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

ben swallows, mouth going dry.

“it’s not that i don’t want to,” she shakes her head, reaching out to grab your hand from her knee and hold it in her own. it’s small compared to hers, but it’s soft and kind of cute the way it gets swallowed up. it reminds her of how you’d be under her. “i kind of really do.”

“you kind of really do.” you repeat, lips curling up gently, hand going lax in her grip.

ben lets out an amused huff of air, feeling slightly lightheaded with just how close you are. like this, she can truly see just how short you are compared to her. her knees brush into your thighs and you have to look up to meet her gaze. your bottom lip looks like a pillow—plump and soft, begging to be kissed.

“i do.” she whispers, eyes fixated on your lips as she leans forward a bit more, noses brushing.

there’s an overwhelming urge for her to lean forward and kiss you—and god, she can. you’re right there, so easy to grab and touch and have. but one look at your face stops her. you’re so young. you have so much opportunity to go to waste. it’s only been a few weeks and she could already tell you’re a gem.

“you’re young,” ben murmurs, thumb rubbing circles over your palm as she pulls away. “and i don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“‘m not that young,” you huff, eyes blinking slowly as she pulls back. your nose twitches slightly—like it wanted the momentary contact back.

her grip on your hand tightens. “yes, you are,” ben insists, eyes softening at the subtle movement of your nose. god, even your nose was adorable.

“i’m 26,” she continues. “you’re barely 22.”

you pause, before letting out a tiny breath, slipping from her hold slightly. “i…i feel normal around you. i don’t feel like…i need to be someone.”

she wants to cry at the words—not the ones that you spoke, but the ones you didn’t. it’s not surprising that you don’t feel how ben feels.

ben loves the attention, craves it. but you…you shrink under everything. every flash of the camera and every cheer that resonates through the stadium.

“you don’t need to be anything. you’re you.” her free hand moves up to your cheek, thumb tracing over the ridge of your cheek bone.

“and i’m not trying to take advantage of you,” ben repeats, feeling the flutter of your lashes against her fingers. “i just—“

“what?” you’re looking at her with those soft eyes again, and ben feels like she’s suffocating. there’s so many things she wants to say—so many things she can’t.

“i just like you,” she finishes lamely, words slipping out before she could properly stop them.

you smile at that. “i just like you.”

ben returns it easily, leaning closer so her forehead touches the top of your forehead and her other hand goes to the back of the bench, caging you gently.

you make her feel insane. crazy, even. she’s been with people she’s had her fair share of attraction with, people she’s found pretty and beautiful even. but you? she just might worship you. she wants to hold you for the rest of her goddamn life.

“can you kiss me?” you question, brushing your nose against hers again, wide eyes blinking in anticipation. “if you like me?”

it takes a lot of effort to hold back from making a sound. ben doesn’t want to freak you out even more, but the request and the way you’re so obviously asking for it makes her want to grab you by the waist and shove you up against the nearest hard surface and kiss you until you’re breathless.

“yeah,” she exhales, breath fanning across your face. “yeah, yeah, baby, come here.”

the kiss is soft, chaste. ben keeps it that way, making sure she doesn’t take too much. she wants to take it all and more, but she’s scared to break you.

she holds the side of your face with one hand. the other lands on one of your thighs, and she can’t help but squeeze slightly. you’re warm under her palm and she can feel the way your breath stutters.

you inhale deeply, eyes drifting down to her hand before looking back up, lips tilted down in a thoughtful frown. “can i have another one?” you ask, trying not to sound so needy.

ben can’t help the small laugh that escapes her at your words. she can already see how this is going to go.

“yeah, baby,” she murmurs, words muffled when she leans forward and captures your lips again. it’s sweet at first, gentle and unhurried.

then you part your lips and oh, she just can’t help herself.

her tongue gently swipes across your lower lip, silently asking for access. you give it to her easily, and ben’s almost embarrassed at the whine you make under her. she has to pull away—has to breathe, god damn it, but she misses you already. ben can’t help but look at your face, flushed red and slightly swollen from her own actions.

“god,” she huffs lowly, eyes roving over you. “god damn it, look at you. so pretty.”

you suck in a sharp breath, tongue swiping over your mouth fleetingly before tipping your head forward. you frown when nudges you back.

“hey, come here,” ben murmurs, gently grabbing your chin and tilting your face up so you’re looking at her.

you’re gorgeous. your cheeks are flushed prettily, lips red and shiny from her. she wants to pull you closer, kiss you until her jaw falls off, but there’s a sense of dread sitting at the back of her mind. “bambi, why are you pouting?”

“i want another one.”

she’s already shaking her head ‘no’ before the words are out of your mouth. “if we keep this up,” ben mutters, thumb rubbing the skin of your chin, “we’re never going to leave this bench.”

she wants to kiss you, wants to pull you up into her lap and keep you there for as long as you’ll let her. ben wants to explore your mouth, wants to learn how you kiss and what you like. she wants to hold your cheeks in her hands and bite and pull at your lip until you gasp.

but—

a part of her is still being rational. there’s a fear still lingering, one that tells her to take it easy, take it slow.

“we should—“ ben clears her throat, voice cracking slightly and sounding strained from how hard she’s trying to keep herself together.

you’re doing this to her. not physically, at least.

she wants to ask you to go home with her. wants to keep you tucked against her chest the whole night, wants to feel your weight on her mattress and between her thighs, wants to drown in the way you feel and how you sound.

ben wants you. just not like this. it’d be too fast.

you breathe in and out slowly, the drunkenness of her mouth wearing off and settling into something calmer. “okay.” you murmur, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

she lets out a shuddering exhale, eyes lingering on that one little spot of skin that your movement exposed to the world. “okay,” ben repeats dumbly, clearing her throat and attempting to shake the slight buzz in her head.

her hands are still on you, one still holding your chin and the other on the soft expanse of your thigh. she can’t bring herself to remove either one.

“have to go,” you state, curling a palm around the hand on your thigh, blinking slowly.

“yeah,” she whispers, her hand twisting so she can intertwine her fingers through yours and squeeze lightly. “i know.”

ben doesn’t move her other hand, though. she’s still holding your chin, thumb stroking your skin and she really doesn’t want to let go.

your lips part for a moment—hesitant and nervous, before you turn, tipping your head into her cupped palm. “i really like you,” you admit, trailing your gaze over her face.

ben feels weak at your words, feeling the way you nuzzle into her palm and how your eyelashes brush the skin of her hand. god, she can’t keep up with how quickly her heart is beating.

“i really like you, too,” she murmurs, eyes fluttering when your gaze drifts over her face. “more than i probably should.”

“i want to take you out,” ben starts, watching the way her words make you tilt your head a bit. “proper. like, where it’s not just—“ she motions between the two of them, “whatever this is.”

not whatever this is, she thinks. i want it to be more.

the thought makes her heart clench in her chest, her grip on your fingers tightening.

“a date?” you ask, throat bobbing as you swallow.

“yeah, baby,” she rasps, eyes glued on the movement. “a date.”

“i’m gonna take you out,” ben continues, watching you through a hooded gaze. “wherever you want. i’ll take you somewhere fancy, spoil you rotten.” she brings the hand on your thigh up to your waist, gripping the material of your shirt. “then i’m gonna bring you back to my apartment, and treat you like a damn princess.”

her words make something jolt in your stomach, but you smile anyway—giddy and a bit too wide but still you. “alright.” you murmur.

“yeah?” ben questions, a crooked smile of her own stretching across her lips.

the idea of having you in her apartment, in her bed is still fresh in her mind. the thought of your voice sounding wrecked and breathy, with your thighs trembling around her head. “you’ll let me take you out?”

“mhm.”

ben lets out an amused huff of breath, leaning forward and pressing a kiss beneath your ear. it’s different than the one she gave you on your mouth, one that’s more possessive and claiming.

“okay, bambi,” she exhales, watching the way the corner of your mouth twitches. “you let me plan everything.”

“anything you want,” ben murmurs, kissing the spot again before pulling away. “movie, food, you name it.”

she’s never felt like this before. everything feels different around you, more…amplified. all of her feelings get heightened around you, every little thing that you do drives her insane.

she wants you so bad.

—

holy FUCK this took to long to edit

anyway welcome bambi!reader 🫶🏼 i kinda made her a bit ditzy i promise shes a sweetheart and has a good arc

okay i’m gonna hurry and post so @volpeenthusiast doesnt die of a crash out attack

@judgepilled

[chyyldofdasun]

By J.C. Chang

[niko-aspin]

WOZAS, J.C GREW A PAIR OF HORNS AND A TAIL AND CAN GRANT WISHES?? WHAT???

(I’ve been thinking of changing J.C’s outfit for Lovetales, this one speaks to me)

• OMG??? NO WAY????!!

[kanekocribs]

KANEKO’S CRIB NOTES LXV: SEVEN SEAS OF CRIBS

Halloween is on the approach, and what could this mean? Tricks, treats? Skeletons, witches, draculae? A child's laughter sounding lightly through the autumn leaves? No, it doesn't mean any of that GARBAGE- it's time for the annual outing of KANEKO'S CRIB NOTES! Please enjoy this smattering of delirious cribs that will make you think "damn, that's the thing that the other thing is based on".

NEZHA: The modern pop sensibility of Soul Hackers is on display in Nezha's Astro Boy inspired design, drawing a parallel between the two "rebuilt" child heroes. It's evident from the twin spikes and whatever the fuck that is, you know, his metallic underwear I suppose.

CHERUB: Following the probably erroneously designated 'Ophanim' from SMTII, and playing on Kaneko's documented fascination with angelkind as spacecraft, this Devil Summoner take on Cherub pushes the concept even further, borrowing a look from the cover of ancient alien classic The Spaceships of Ezekiel by Joseph F. Blumrich. Compare the cover to the Japanese edition that Kaneko was more likely familiar with!

SERAPH: The composition of Seraph's four heads and crossed arms is a likely homage to the iconic cover of 1974's Queen II. Slap that shit on your dorm room wall for a change!

TITANIA: Titania's appearance in SMTII is a slightly embellished take on this Brian Froud illustration of the ghostly Glaistig of Scotland. Thanks to Psiguy for originally sharing this ID from @yen_den, based on a post uploaded to the @theavalonians twitter account!

FIONN MAC CUMHAILL: In the spirit of equanimity, a last addition to the DOI'S CRIB NOTES series: Fionn Mac Cumhaill appears to be inspired by the dress of legendary illustrator J.C. Leyendecker's 'Cu Chulainn Riding His Chariot Into Battle' (1911), from the rectangular pattern of his mail-coat down to the telltale 'X' meander that runs along the fringe of either cloak.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

💙💜💖 Bi Books Coming Out March 2025

💖💜💙 Hey there, beloved bookish bats! I get giddy every time I see bi rep in a book! Here are a few bisexual books coming out March 2025 that would make fabulous additions to your never-ending TBR! Happy reading!

💙 I apologize for any discrepancies. Publishing days are subject to change.

💖 Say a Little Prayer - Jenna Voris 💜 Easy as Falling - Viano Oniomoh 💜 Tideborn - Eliza Chan 💙 Love Points to You - Alice Lin

💖 Serial Killer Support Group by Saratoga Schaefer 💜 Pole Position by Rebecca J. Caffery 💜 Blood Tethered by I.S. Belle 💙 Blood Beneath the Snow - Alexandra Kennington

💖 How to Survive a Slasher - Justine Pucella Winans 💜 Animal Instinct - Amy Shearn 💜 A Maroon Star & A Silver Thread - Caroline Sophia Hamel 💙 Aces and Arrows - Phoenix Kathryn

💖 The Shadowbearer's Burden - Jasmyn Morning 💜 Roots in Ink - Ariella Monti 💜 Green Ink - Stephen May 💙 The Player and the Prince - J.C. Rycroft

💖 Her Dark Grace - Rae Valtera 💜 Specimen - C. Quince 💜 Shoot Your Shot - Lexi LaFleur Brown 💙 Good Game - Suzanne Lenoir

💖 Misconduct Zone - Heather Leighson 💜 A Gardener's Guide to Love and Loathing - Chelsea Pennington 💜 Fatal Spores & Fiery Paths - Kellie Doherty 💙 The Moon the Sun Forgot by B.J. Wagner

💖 Paint the Moon by Katia Rose 💜 Of Abrasion - S.J. Lee 💜 Girl Falling by Hayley Scrivenor 💙 Liquid by Mariam Rahmani

[deadgirlsnoring]

TESTING | — j.c

Summary; You’re testing a new type of chocolate you made on Jonathan.

Content; P in V, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, black fem reader, reader has female anatomy, sub!jon.

“Can you sit still? God.” You were standing over the doctor while he was in a straight jacket, sitting down in a chair trying to move even though both his legs were tied down to the feet of the chairs.

“I-It’s hard, you know. What the fuck was in that chocolate?” While turning hard to stifle your laugh, you turned your face away from his view.

A whine fell from his lips, licking over his swollen pink lips. This chocolate made him feel warm inside, too warm for his liking.

“Can you l-look at me Y/n, please?”

You and Jonathon didn’t share a home, but he always found his way into yours. It honestly made you mad, but no matter how many locks you get changed, he always finds his way in.

This time, when he arrived you weren’t there. Like he always does, he snooped. Throughout your living room, bathroom, only stopping in the kitchen.

He was so excited, you had made snacks.

There was brownies, chocolates, lollipops. You knew he liked chocolate, you were testing him.

So when he ate it, he couldn’t help but eat four out of the six you had made.

Why would you look at him, after his dumb decision.

You were in lingerie, pink striped bra along with the same itty bitty striped panties.

Your favourite, paired with black heels. You had just got out of the lab, and you came home to this.

The only reason you did it was to give him some sort of relief. It wasn’t in your plan for him to eat the chocolates, you were gonna test them on a random homeless dude you’d freshen up.

All because he was stupid, so stupid, that now you were in this predicament.

Although you couldn’t help but like how precious he looked.

Restricted and hot.

Jonathan really had enough, you were just watching him. His body language, the way he was reacting. Scribbling away in that clipboard of yours, lifting up your black glasses when they slid down your nose.

“Help me, c’mon?” Groaning, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.

“I did! Took off my clothes just like you asked, why do you have to be so ungrateful?”

A choked moan escaped from him, every insult, every word you let leave your lips made his skin crawl.

He was heating up, just from your stare, “I’m sorry, mmfu—please? D-Do something.” You pouted, your hands falling onto your hips.

Jonny barely said please, surprised you. This really did make anybody beg.

“What do you want? I wanna see how it affects you, okay? Wait, so impatient.” Huffing, you began bringing your attention back to to your clipboard.

“The fuck are you doing in my house?” You yelled, jumping at the sudden presence of Jonathon.

He grinned at you, still stuffing his mouth with the chocolate. You tilted your head for a minute, until it clicked.

Running up to him, you took the last piece out of his hand, smacking him on the head. “You really shouldn’t have eaten this.”

The man rubbed his head, looking at you with the most confused look on his face.

“Ne—Need anything. I’ll take anything you give me at this point. Hurts so bad momma.”

He only ever called you momma once before. It was an accident really, you guys worked together you should’ve never got too close with him.

It happened though, you forgot it ever happened, blocking it out of your brain. He on the other hand, brought it up almost anytime you guys were alone.

You were done examining, now it was time to make it go away. Either he sat like this for at least twenty four hours; or, you helped him.

Crouching down a little bit, you smiled at him, “You want some relief Jonny?” He was sweating, eyeing her pretty pouty lips.

They were so big, so edible looking. “Mhm, p-please?” The doctor was panting, his heart beating out of his chest.

It made him so warm, he was feeling this unsettling warmness, and oh how it wouldn’t go away.

You unzipped his pants teasingly slow, a grin plastered on your face. His hips bucked up at the sudden feel, any touch by you made his stomach clench.

“Ohh f-fuck. Mhm, mmm. Please please please please?”

Giggling quietly, you watch him shake at the slightest touch. “Making you real desperate hm? Huh Jonny? Is it?”

You gripped his member, a shaky breath letting itself show, he wanted to cum, he needed to.

Two strokes in he was mumbling incoherent words to himself, a little tear falling down his face. He wasn’t sobbing, yet.

“I can cum? Fuck please? Oh shit, I’m gonna fucking cum. You’ll let me? I-I can’t hold it in momma.” You smirked, your covered tits hovering just in front of his face.

He could see, smell, but he couldn’t touch. The smell drove him to the end, made his legs shake and his heart pulsate way higher than the regular rate.

“I’m cumming, fuck I’m cumming.” Jonny couldn’t stop with the heavy breathing, made you get annoyed.

“Can you shut the fuck up Jonny? So loud, calm down.” He bit down on his bottom lip, stifling a moan as warm hot liquid shot from his needy tip.

Jonathan was shuffling so much, trying to get free from the straight jacket. It was so hard though; made him pout, and made happy you laugh.

“You aren’t escaping, you done? Ima little tired Jonny.”

“No! Fuck! Please please no, I can take more. I’ll show you, ju-just touch me again. I’ll give you more of me, I promise Y/n.”

Smiling brightly while playing with his cum, you kissed your teeth, humming a soft note.

Rubbing his warm nut all over his cock, you started again. This time you weren’t as nice, swiping your thumb over his tip while doing an up and down motion.

Jonny could feel it, felt so good but hurt so bad. You heard sniffling, moving your head up to see tears flowing down his face in a crazy speed.

“P-Please momma, I really want it. I’ll give you so, so much If you let me. Hm? How bout that Y/n? You want my cum?”

You clicked your tongue, rolling your eyes, “Every time we talk it’s always you asking the questions. You always wanna take the lead doctor, can’t you see you aren’t in the position to right now?”

“I’m sorry, oh fuck. It’s coming, it hurts so bad.” He sniffled, still more tears streaming.

“Oh stop that crying, don’t be a baby. You ate my chocolates, your fault not mine.” He couldn’t deny it was his fault, so stupid but so smart.

The knot in his stomach untied and he felt so little relief. He needed more, he wanted more.

“I-I know you’re tired, but I need more. I’m sorry, please?” You huffed. You weren’t tired, even though you made it seem so.

He was so needy, so dependent on you. Made your skin hot, made his skin hot.

“You’re gonna be begging me to stop.”

xo, liah

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Repentance by J.C. Ryle

Repentance is a thorough change of person’s natural heart, upon the subject of sin. We are all born in sin. We naturally love sin.

We take to sin, as soon as we can act and think—just as the bird takes to flying, and the fish takes to swimming. There never was a child that required schooling or education in order to learn deceitfulness, selfishness, passion, self-will, gluttony, pride and foolishness. These things are not picked up from bad companions, or gradually learned by a long course of tedious instruction. They spring up of themselves, even when boys and girls are brought up alone.

The seeds of them are evidently the natural product of the heart. The aptitude of all children to these evil things is an unanswerable proof of the corruption and fall of man. Now when this heart of ours is changed by the Holy Spirit, when this natural love of sin is cast out, then takes place that change which the Word of God calls “repentance.” The person in whom the change is created is said to “repent.” They may be called, in one word, a repentant person.

[dc-polls]

Biggest DC Misconception

Round 3 - Match 7

John Constantine adopts *insert character here*

Idk when, why or how people got the idea Constantine would adopt and take care of a kid and would also be good at it and the kids life would be better with John than whomever but it's just dumb. John's talked before in Hellblazer about not liking kids he talkes about it for 2 pages straight, while he's an okay uncle to Geraldine Chandler that's about it. Idk about the current hellblazer run as I haven't read that but in og comics he's very against having kids let alone activity going out of his way to adopt one from the good in his heart, because his life is shit he would never bringing a kid into it because he knows that the kid would probably end up dead. (I see a lot of J.C adopts - Jason Todd, Danny Phantom (why???) And Billy Batson-)

--

Orion (New Gods) is a huge douchebag

Orion, created by Jack Kirby, is often portrayed in recent comics as a prick who doesn't respect anyone, is always looking for combat and seems to support war. Its probably because the writers seem to think that anyone from apokolips is like that. Also because they seem to portray him as such to give better light to Mister Miracle. Orion represents the concept of Nurture vs Nature. He is a warrior who wants peace above anything. He has violent tendencies, but he tries not to partake in them. The ambient he's more comfortable with is war, but he knows that it causes nothing but suffering for anyone involved and tries to leave all the people he cares about out of it. The character is flawed, yes, But doesn't change the fact that after everything Orion wants to be a good person and i'm sick of every writer portraying him as nothing but a 2 dimensional asshole.