#I would say you SHOULD agree with the politics if you claim to like them because they are inherently political but

[loveanddeepthroat]

can i mc reader and sylus where mc ends up in hospital after a mission gone wrong and sylus shows up but she wants him to leave in case someone sees him there

Careless

Pairing - Sylus x f!MC

Summary - You landed yourself in the hospital overnight after a mix up at HQ had you fighting too many Wanderer’s alone. You’re already bummed about being stuck at Akso, so the feeling of dread when Sylus turns up unexpectedly only adds to your unease.

Word Count - 2.3k

Warnings - Set in a hospital. Angst and fluff.

The incessant beeping of medical machinery echoing throughout the ward was getting to your sore head.

Akso Hospital was rammed full of casualties and emergencies, seeing as it was a Friday night. You felt a bit out of place amongst the partygoers and adventurous folk who had taken their fun a little too far.

In your opinion, you didn’t really need to be here. The eggplant coloured bruise on the right side of your forehead definitely looked a lot worse than it felt, but the doctors weren’t buying your claims that you weren’t in any pain.

Likely because you were wincing when you’d said it.

A night under their watch was what the doctor ordered, and it wasn’t up for discussion. You were just relieved that Doctor Zayne was working away for a week. He’d have checked you in indefinitely and scheduled an hour long lecture on why you needed to be more careful.

A mix up at HQ had the system only requesting that you attend a spontaneous Wanderer attack in Linkon Library. Just one had been reported, but seven of the ruthless bastards had accosted you the minute you stepped foot in the evacuated building.

Confident that you could handle them, you didn’t bother calling in for more Hunters. As it turned out, that confidence was misplaced, and the last thing you remembered before blacking out was a loud screeching sound. You had no idea what it was, but it hadn’t been important in your unconscious state.

When you eventually awoke in the hospital, Jenna had been hanging over you, immediately giving you the third degree for continuing alone. You should’ve known that the alert for only your assistance had been a mistake in the system, and you should’ve insisted that someone accompany you no matter what it had said.

She made sure to drill that into your head more than once.

Admittedly, you were glad to see the back of her once she had finally left. Your head was starting to throb with the volume of her voice, and all you wanted was the bliss of being unconscious again.

It was late now, and you were exhausted. Sleep was looking to be impossible tonight, however. There were several other patients on the same ward, all admitted with varying ailments. The injured man opposite you had done nothing but stare coldly from the moment he was wheeled in in a full leg cast.

You tried to speak to him. You offered him a polite smile, which was met with a sneer. Whatever his problem with you was, it was beginning to get on your nerves.

You just wanted to go home.

“Miss,” a softly spoken nurse greeted as she approached your bed. “There’s a visitor here to see you.”

You frowned, wondering if you heard her correctly over the hustle and bustle of the ward. It was well past visiting hours, and you couldn’t think of anyone other than your colleagues who knew that you were even at the hospital.

The man with the broken leg frowned, too. “What? She gets special treatment because she’s a so-called hero? I should get visiting rights, too!”

“Would you like me to let him in?” The nurse asked, ignoring the grumbling patient.

Him. That didn’t exactly narrow things down.

“Uhh,” you faltered, a little unsure. You didn’t want to cause any issues with the other patients. “Are you sure?”

The nurse nodded and smiled, though it looked a bit forced. It almost seemed like she was desperate for you to say yes to your mystery visitor.

“Okay,” you finally agreed. 

The look of relief on her face was not lost on you. She quickly hurried away to retrieve whoever came to see you, leaving you to endure the displeasure from the man opposite.

“I used to be a mailman, you know? If it weren’t for me, people wouldn’t have had their mail. Do I get special treatment, though? No, of course not. You Hunters get all the glory and adoration. And I’ll tell you another thing—”

“You’ve told her plenty.”

Prominent footsteps sounded from the doorway, the atmosphere immediately becoming heavy and tense. You almost choked on absolutely nothing at the sight of him.

Sylus.

Your eyes flared, heart hammering against your ribcage like a drum. He couldn’t be here. The risk was far too great.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” the grumpy man sneered back, looking him up and down, “…vampire.”

It was a colourful insult, and one that made your unwelcome companion chuckle. “If you’ll excuse us,” he began, the swirling red vines of his Evol appearing to drag the man’s cubicle curtain to a close at a leisurely pace. “Mailman.”

To your relief, there was no backlash from the irritated patient across the room. Although that did make you wonder if he wasn’t retaliating by his own choice, or if Sylus had silenced him somehow. The latter wouldn’t have surprised you.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” you hissed quietly. “You can’t be here, Sylus.”

Crimson eyes didn’t meet yours, his cold gaze set only on the bandages around your head as he approached your bedside, closing your curtain behind him. He didn’t quite look like himself. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, green and blue veins prominently making an appearance.

“I’ll think twice before taking advice from a woman who was very recently knocked unconscious amidst a 7v1 Wanderer fight,” he rebuked monotonously. 

You scoffed. “I’m fine, if that’s why you came. Feel free to go back to—”

“Fine?” His face quickly turned from emotionless to severely unamused as he cut you off sharply. “That’s quite the contradiction, sweetie.”

You raised an eyebrow barely high enough for him to see your questioning expression. The gesture hurt, which wasn’t helping your case. “To what?”

He dragged a plastic chair towards your bed before sitting down, his ankles crossed in front of him. You couldn’t really read his demeanour. He almost seemed cross with you.

“To what I saw from Mephisto,” he responded tightly.

Mephisto. 

That explained the screeching you heard before you slipped into unconsciousness. “And what exactly was Mephisto doing there?”

Sylus merely shrugged, offering nothing verbal in response. The lackadaisy gesture did nothing but piss you off. You’ve told him countless times to stop sending Mephisto out to keep tabs on you, and each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

He clearly was not pleased with you, but you weren’t stupid. He was here because you had concerned him. Sylus was a busy man, especially at this time of night. He wouldn’t have come just to berate you with words that could’ve been put into a text message.

Not that you knew where your phone was.

The atmosphere between you both fell into silence, only the sounds of medical machinery filling in the lack of conversation. You didn’t really know what to say to him, and he wasn’t typically the type to lose his words. But it was clear to see that he didn’t know what to say, either.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat, his hands flexing in his lap. “I told you those guns of yours were pathetic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my guns,” you mumbled with a roll of your eyes.

“So it’s a skill issue?”

You glared harshly at him, flinching noticeably as you did. You weren’t sure what was bothering you more, the pain in your head or the mood that Sylus was so clearly in. 

His features softened ever so slightly as he recognised your pain. Still, that didn’t stop him from being an asshole. “It’s one or the other, kitten.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. If there was one thing you didn’t want Sylus to think of you as, it was weak. You weren’t sure why you cared so much, but you did.

“I suppose my guns are a little on the outdated side,” you murmured begrudgingly.

He smirked, his hands finally relaxing a little in his lap. The awkward atmosphere was slowly fading, which you were grateful for. You didn’t want to pry into his mind and make things worse again.

You buried your head a little further into the pillow beneath your sore head, letting your eyes fall shut for a moment. Fatigue was starting to settle in your body, almost dragging you into a swift sleep before your chilly hand was captured in a warm embrace.

Your eyes shot open again, finding Sylus out of his seat and leaning over you. His eyes were a bit wider than usual. “Have they checked you for a concussion?” 

“Yeah,” you told him gently. The close proximity had you flustered. “I’m a little concussed, but I’m allowed to sleep.”

His brows drew together slightly as he studied you. You’ve both had these strange little moments before, when his mask slips away just enough to see his true feelings.

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered in reassurance. “You should go, Sylus.”

He shook his head, his hand tightening slightly over yours. It looked like an effort, but he managed to smirk at you again. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

Beneath that facade of humour, he was a little bit wounded. You wouldn’t point it out, but you could see it. He was a stubborn bastard who wasn’t going to let you push him away, but he also didn’t like that you were trying to push him away.

It wasn’t as if you wanted him to go. Your relationship with him was…complicated.

Complicated in the sense that you weren’t in a relationship, but he had a habit of establishing a level of intimacy between you both that you weren’t blind to. Good morning and goodnight texts, constant invites to events as his plus one with no other reason than to be beside him, and random gifts left on your doorstep so often that your elderly neighbour recently asked if you were ‘getting some.’

A relationship with him would be very difficult to maintain. You both come from entirely different worlds that just could not merge. No matter how much you desired him, you had to maintain your composure.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” you sighed. “I just don’t like how careless you’re being by showing up here. Some people do worry, you know.”

He slowly lowered his loom over you so that his nose was just inches away from yours. You couldn’t help but swallow, feeling his steady breath on your lips as he spoke. It was intimidating and yet so intimate that you didn’t know whether to cower or cut him off with a kiss you never knew you wanted. 

“You don’t think I’m worried about you?” he drawled in a rather serious manner.

“That’s not what I—”

“Do you not realise how it looked through Mephisto’s eyes when you were walloped a great distance across a library and crumpled to the floor like a lifeless body.” His teeth were gritted in his mouth, the word ‘body’ coming out tightly like his tongue was rejecting the word. “You’re not the only person who is worried here. Do not brand me incapable of such feelings.”

Your mouth went a little dry, tears threatening to invade your eyes. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in his worry, and you hadn’t meant for it to come across that way.

“I just don’t want you to risk your freedom for me,” you whispered shakily.

He lifted his hand from where it was holding him up beside your free hand, carefully moving some strands of your hair that had fallen over your bandages. 

“I’d risk it all for you.”

He had never said such a thing to you in all the time you’d been acquainted. You knew that he would carry out every need you might have of him. You knew that he would listen to you sit and ramble on and on about anything, never interrupting you. You knew that he cared about you.

But you were still in the dark when it came to the extent of that care.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” he murmured.

Thankfully, you caught yourself before you were about to shake your sore head. “Just…trying to figure you out.”

A smile slowly spread across his lips. A real smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter, embarrassingly made noticeable by the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to.

“It would require a lot of brainpower to do that, sweetie. Maybe lose the concussion first,” he said in his typically sarcastic tone.

You managed your own small smile, which blossomed into a chuckle. This was the side of Sylus that had you coming back to him whenever he asked for your company.

His real side.

He kept his hand atop your head, avoiding the bandages completely. His thumb swiped gently over the parting of your hair, pulling you off to sleep again. You were pretty sure that he was doing it on purpose to force you into rest, but you were in no position to argue with him. You were officially exhausted.

“Would you really like me to leave, kitten?” he asked in a soft whisper as your eyes fluttered.

The very thought of him leaving made you a little upset. Despite your attempts at convincing the doctors you were fine, you damn well were not. You needed his comfort, and he needed to know that you were safe and on the road to a speedy recovery.

“No,” you whispered, succumbing to the soothing strokes on your scalp.

A soft brush of his lips was the last thing you felt before you finally drifted off, feeling secure enough to do so with his company.

“Good,” he’d whispered back before you fully clocked out. “I’ll always be careless so long as I get to you.”

A/N - Long time no fic post. I apologise, life has been crazy. I haven’t proof read this cause honestly I’m just too tired so I’ll read over it in the morning and edit any mistakes. Hope you’re all doing well! 🖤

[transmutationisms]

from a non-academic, i find parts of comphet to be useful (heterosexuality becomes compulsory when you’re raised in a heterosexual society) but the foundations . suck. what do we do with theories like this, that have touched on a truth but also carry a lot of garbage? can we separate the truth from the founder?

i have to be slightly pedantic and say that i don't think rich's essay is an example of this phenomenon. my central issue with her formulation is its bioessentialist assumptions about human sex and therefore also sexuality. if i say "capitalism includes economic mechanisms that enforce heterosexual behaviour and exclude other possibilities", then what i mean by "heterosexual" is plainly not the same as what rich means—and for this reason i would seldom formulate the statement this way, without clarifying that i am talking about the enforcement of heterosexuality as a part of the creation and defence of sex/gender categories themselves. so rich and i do not actually agree on the very fundamental premises of this paper! rich was not the first or only person to point out that economic mechanisms as well as resultant social norms enforce heterosexual pairings; i actually don't even think the essay does a very clear job of interrogating the relationship between labour, economy, and the creation of sex/gender; she means something different and essentialist to what i mean by sex and sexuality; and i think her proposed responses to the phenomenon she identifies as 'compulsory heterosexuality' are uninteresting because they mainly propose psychological answers to a problem arising from conditions of political economy. so, in regards to this specific paper, i am actually totally comfortable just saying that it's not a useful formulation, and i don't feel a need to rescue elements of it.

in general, i do know what you're talking about, and i think there's a false dichotomy here: as though we must either discard an idea entirely if it has elements we dislike, or we accept it on the condition that we can plausibly claim these elements and their author are irrelevant. these are not comprehensive options. instead, i would posit that every theory, hypothesis, or idea is laden with context, including values held and assumptions made by their progenitors. the point is not to find a mythical 'objective' truth unburdened by human bias or mistakes; this is impossible. instead, i think we need to take seriously the elements of an idea that we object to. why are they there? what sorts of assumptions or arguments motivate them, and are those actually separable from whatever we like in the idea? if so, can we be clear about which aspects of the theory are still useful or applicable, and where it is that the objectionable elements arise? and if we can identify these points, then what might we propose instead? this is all much more useful, imo, than either waiting for a perfect morally unimpeachable theory or trying to 'accept' a theory without grappling with its origins (political, social, intellectual).

a recent example that you might find interesting as a kind of case study is j lorand matory's book the fetish revisited, which argues that the 'fetish' concept in freud's and marx's work drew from their respective understandings of afro-atlantic gods. in other words, when marx said capitalists "fetishise" commodities or freud spoke about sexual "fetishism", they were each claiming that viewing an object as agentive, meaning-laden in itself (ie, devoid of the context of human meaning-making as a social and political activity) was comparable to 'primitive' and delusory religious practices.

matory's point here isn't that we should reject marx's entire contribution to political economy because he was racist, nor is it that we can somehow accept parts of what marx said by just excising any racist bits. rather, matory asks us to grapple seriously with the role that marx's anthropologically inflected racism plays in his ideas, and what limitations it imposes on them. why is it that marx could identify the commodity as being discursively abstracted and 'fetishised', but did not apply this understanding to other ideas and objects in a consistent way? and how is his understanding of this process of 'fetishisation' shaped by his beliefs about afro-atlantic peoples, and their 'intelligence' or civilisational achievements in comparison to northwestern europeans'? by this critique matory is able to nuance the fetish concept, and to argue that marx's formulation of it was both reductive and inconsistently applied (analogously to how freud viewed only some sexuality as 'fetishistic'). it is true in some sense that capital and the commodity are reified and abstracted in a manner comparable to the creation of a metaphysical entity, but what we get from matory is both a better, more nuanced understanding of this process of meaning-making (incl. a challenge to the racist idea of afro-atlantic gods as simply a result of inferior intelligence or cultural development), and the critical point that if this is fetishism, then we must understand a lot more human discourse and activity as hinging on fetishisation.

the answer of what we do with the shitty or poorly formulated parts of a theory won't always be the same, obviously; this is a dialogue we probably need to have (and then have again) every time we evaluate an idea or theory. but i hope this gives you some jumping-off points to consider, and an idea of what it might look like to grapple with ideas as things inherently shaped by people—and our biases and assumptions and failings—without assuming that means we can or should just discard them any time those failings show through. the point is not to waste time trying to find something objective, but to understand the subjective in its context and with its strengths and limitations, and then to decide from there what use we can or should make of it.

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: BECAUSE DADDY'S HOME! I am so, so so so so happy he’s back. Extremely proud of our blorbo. My heart is fulllll. Also pls note that Latibule and Elysian’s timeline is happening simultaneously 😁

Masterlist, Part V of __

“What the fuck is wrong with him?” Jung Hoseok asked as he watched incredulously his brother, Kim Seokjin, ‘fought’ with Taehyung.

Or rather, as he watched him willingly got beaten up by the younger man. This was a rather peculiar event as their oldest hyung was rarely seen to be in this state. He always thought he was above petty brawls even when the maknaes begged the mafia prince to spar with them. They knew how good he was, if not the best among them. He had rigorous trainings since he learned how to walk. In fact, they witnessed how good he was, but Kim Seokjin was never one to brag about his skills. On the other hand, he always took pride on how he looked, never one to be seen with even a strand of hair out of place. His clothes were never seen with any crease at all that one would think he didn’t move throughout the day. It was so ridiculous that his pairs of sleepwear were of the highest quality. You’d never catch this man slipping.

See, one would think that he was truly a prince because of the standard he held himself in.

But now, he was not even pretending to put up a fight even as Taehyung landed blows after blows until the younger man hesitated. Even someone as emotionless as him knew something was wrong which proved just how peculiar their hyung was acting. Had he been in his right mind, he wouldn’t even let Taehyung’s fist near his ‘glorious’ and ‘worldwide handsome’ face. Well, his words and not theirs.

Hoseok and Namjoon, on the other hand, knew for certain that should Seokjin wanted to fight, he could do so. After all, they witnessed firsthand the unhinged and dangerous version of their hyung before he decided that he would rather pamper his skin with expensive creams and serums than the stark blood of his enemies, and well sometimes, even friends.

“Hyuuuung!” Taehyung finally snapped, pouting at Seokjin who had blood dripping from the open gash on his forehead. “You agreed!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he wiped the blood on his plump lips. “Did I? Because I vividly remember that you asked me to spar and I didn’t say anything.”

“You stood up and went in the ring with me!” Taehyung snapped back, his eyes wide before looking at his brothers as though to point out how ridiculous Seokjin was being.

Namjoon quietly chuckled at the scene in front of him. They were gathered somewhere in an unnamed basement building and two of his brothers were sparring as the four other brothers keenly watched as though this was the most interesting thing in their life. If anyone saw these six distinguished men in their respective fields acting like this, Namjoon thought that they wouldn’t even believe their own eyes. Heck, this dark basement had two distinguished police officers, the top doctor in the country, actor who won the most prestigious awards, a tech genius with numerous connections with the world leaders, and yours truly, the best attorney in the country that had a stellar case win rate and was constantly being asked by political groups to join them. They were just missing the chief of police, Min Yoongi. They still couldn’t reach him since last week.

They were used to him vanishing like that, but Namjoon’s senses told him that this time it was different. His eyes shifted to the smiling man next to him, his phone capturing the scene like he was always fond of doing. He couldn’t help but noticed the slight limp he was sporting when he walked in. His draconic eyes shifted to the faint bruises in his knuckles which he claimed were all from training.

“Right, Joonie?” Hoseok suddenly turned to him, his pleasant smile ever present on his face.

“What?” he blinked, suddenly dawning on him that everyone’s attention was on him.

“Where are you? Is Namjoon in the room with us?” Hoseok kidded before playfully bumping his shoulder. “I said, hyung didn’t explicitly give his consent to the sparring. Taehyung was wrong-“

“Hyuuuung!” Taehyung stomped his foot in indignation, acting like the baby they knew he was.

Jungkook chuckled as Tae’s statement, thoroughly enjoying the scene. “You hit Jin hyung without his consent. Tsk tsk.”

“But he went in the ring and stood there! Taetae is not wrong,” Jimin defended his agemate before letting his Slytherin ways that had always thrived in chaos won. “But then again, Taehyung, how can you hit that face? Come on, man, that’s just wrong.”

And chaos ensued as all five of them spoke over one another while the subject of the chaos was emotionlessly wiping the blood on his face with his towel he probably imported from Japan. He didn’t care of the chaos brought by his nonchalance in the violence, taking his sweet time to gulp water from his bottle as though nothing bothered him, as though the wounds and forming bruises on his body didn’t hurt.

“Fine, fine!” Taehyung relented, raising both his hands to stop the verbal assaults being thrown from both sides. “But why did he let me hit him so many times?! He could have stopped me! Hell, he could take all of us if he wanted to!”

“That makes sense,” Jungkook agreed, nodding his head before turning his doe eyes to his hyung who was now silently looking at his phone. “If noona sees you like this, she won’t like you anymore.”

“She already doesn’t like me.”

That was the first time he opened his mouth that night after brooding in the basement for so long and spreading his dark energy. Even Jungkook who was always found to be sitting next to him in any occasion opted to sit on the other side of the room.

“Who’s she?” Namjoon asked, his brows pinched together from confusion and curiosity. Girl? Hyung was with a girl when he didn’t even look at them before because, as he quoted, ‘why bother when his visual was better that theirs?’

“You know? The girl I posted in my Instagram story with hyung?”

At Namjoon’s blank stare, Jungkook exploded. “You still hadn’t followed me back?! The audacity, Attorney Kim! Until now, I’m still stuck as a liker and commenter on all your posts! All you follow is your secretary and all you post is her son and her! And plants! It’s like I don’t matter to you-”

“Okay, so who’s she?”

Jungkook blinked, “She’s a doctor in hyung’s hospital. She’s kind and pretty, and she likes Taylor Swift, and she bought me samgyupsal. And you!”

He pointed at his Jin hyung with accusation in his eyes. He squinted his doe eyes at him before sauntering near to him. “What did you do?”

Seokjin lifted his dark eyes on him before putting down his phone. “Why do automatically think it’s something I did?”

“Noona literally had heart in her eyes when she looked at you! And am I wrong? Was it not your fault?”

His silence was enough to confirm Jungkook’s accusation. He scoffed as he straightened up and thought to himself that somehow, in a room full of intelligent and capable men, he was surrounded by idiots.

“Fix it or else I’ll give the engineer in my office her name. He’s been pestering me to introduce noona to him ever since he saw her on my Instagram and I might just give it to him-“

“What’s his name?!” Seokjin cut him off, suddenly standing to his full height and with so much force that the chair he was sitting on fell back to the ground.

“No!”

“Get back here and give me his name!”

“I’m leaving!”

“Jeon Jungkook, you get back here right now! Where does he live?!”

-

Had you been an outsider to all this fiasco, then you would surely feel sorry for he-who-shall-not-be-named aka Voldemort aka Kim Seokjin. Had you been an outsider to this situation, then you would surely find this all funny.

But you weren’t. You were, in fact, in the middle of it all.

You decided the moment you went home after he slandered your name, belittled you, and short-of shouted at everyone that he would never fall for you because you didn’t pass his taste. In fact, and you quoted, you were ‘so below him’ and you weren’t the same stature as him that he was embarrassed for someone to even think that he felt something for you.

What a dramatic person, you thought. Why would you be hurt over a crush? Why would you even cry over it?

You sat with your feelings that weekend. You thought and thought hard enough to know that the reason why you bawled your eyes out the moment you exited that coffee shop and why you lost your appetite and stayed in bed was because all he said was the truth.

Were you beneath him in stature? Check.

Was his taste in women beyond you? Check.

Were you below him? Check.

Did he only entertain you because you were funny? Damn right you were. You were hilarious as fuck.

But still, you called in sick for work after weekend passed. You were still hurt and quite frankly, too embarrassed to even see him or any people from the hospital that knew how hard you were chasing him. You sat with your feelings long enough to realize that just because some guy, no matter how perfect he was in the outside, didn’t like you back did not mean that it was the end of the world. Your mother did not raise a weak woman. Well, she really didn’t raise you, but anyway!

You decided to do exactly what you did best.

Avoidance.

According to an article written by Lebow in 2022, somatic avoidance refers to steering clear from situation that elicit a physical response similar to anxiety or stress response. Right now, you were actively avoiding your greatest stress in life. So when you met his eyes as you walked to the entrance of the hospital, you pretended to not see him. You continued as though nothing was amiss, as though seeing him after hiding and housing your pain for days did not affect you in any way. You weren’t blind, though. You couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he looked. You couldn’t help but notice a faint bruise on his otherwise perfect face. You felt the gnawing curiosity forming in your mind as to how he got that when you thought that he was someone who would never get into a fight. Foolishly, you thought that he was someone who would rather resolve issues in a calm and civil manner than inflict pain on other people.

“Y/N, wait-”

You continued walking and like the asshole that he was, he didn’t take the hint that you didn’t wish to speak to him, nor hear whatever he had to say. He had embarrassed you enough to last a lifetime. The distance you placed between the two of you were rapidly closed by his long legs. If he noticed how you were almost running to the elevator to escape him, he didn’t say anything. By some miracle, you lost him as the lobby was now bustling with patients, visitors, and employees alike. You greeted your colleague as you entered the elevator. She was making small talk about what happened during your absence, yet you were too distracted to engage. Instead. you repeatedly pushed the close button, which she frowned at.

“Hey, what’s the rush?” she asked as she watched you act peculiarly.

“Just…you know. Running late.”

“Honey, it’s 6 in the morning.”

The doors were finally starting to close, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You knew it was too soon to celebrate when the door barely closed because just as the gap was about to disappear completely, a hand shot through, triggering the sensor and causing the doors to slide back open. Your stomach dropped as he stepped into the elevator, his eyes locking onto yours. The small, enclosed space suddenly felt suffocating.

Kim Seokjin stared into your eyes as he entered. His dark eyes held yours hostage even as you scooched to the left side of the lift. He sighed, merely nodding at the greeting of your coworker. His broad shoulders made the lift seemed small when it was anything but.

It was three floors later, and yes, you counted. You’d honestly rather watched the elevator screen than turned to him as he blatantly looked at you.

“Doctor Y/N–“ He started, almost making you jump when he broke the silence.

“Oh my God, what’s that?” you turned to your colleague, and now, a victim of your pettiness.

“What?” she frowned, sensing the tension between the two of you and wanting nothing but to get off the lift.

“I just felt chills in my right side,” you answered, rubbing your arms because fuck it, you were going to show him how good you could act. You didn’t join the theatre when you were in high school for the fun of it! Nope, it was just that you had always been dramatic and you thought it would be a waste of God-given talents, really.

She lifted her eyes sheepishly at the doctor that held the highest position in the hospital who only had eyes on you. “Y/N, that’s Doctor Ki-“

“Like a disturbed ghost. Very scary,” you shuddered exaggeratedly before clasping your hands and murmuring a short prayer. “I hope he finds peace. Or not.”

Seokjin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly. Your colleague glanced between the two of you, clearly uncomfortable and unsure of what to say.

The elevator dinged again, the doors sliding open, and you took the opportunity to escape the ghost of your past aka Voldemort. Fuck it, you thought. You’d rather walked five flights of stairs than stay another second with that man. Honestly.

You thought that was the end of it. You wished it was the end of it and you couldn’t be more wrong.

It was late at night when you finally finished your work. Your back was killing you, and you felt like another cup of coffee wouldn’t wake you up but rather send you to an early death. You were definitely not looking forward to your commute back to your apartment. Regardless of the weariness you felt, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied with the work you did today. You thought that you lucked out on the career path you chose because you were able to help people heal where it was the hardest to heal in.

But heavens, you just wished this job paid better.

You sighed as you exited the hospital, and you sighed even deeper when someone stepped in front of you. You knew before you even lifted your eyes who it was. The polished shoes and the obviously expensive suit were enough telltale signs that you were once again in front of him and that he was once again going to bother you.

“Are you going home?”

You looked directly at him for the first time since that day. And damn it! He looked good, you hated it. You tilted your head to the side when he smiled at you. “Come on. It’s late. I’ll drive you home.” He pointed at his expensive white car that was conveniently parked in front of the entrance, a clear violation of the hospital premises rules. But who were you to talk, anyway. He was the damned owner, and he could do whatever he wanted, apparently.

You scoffed as you walked away from him, spotting a taxi that just dropped off a passenger in front of the hospital. You’d rather commute than go with him, you thought. Just as you opened the door, a particularly large hand pushed it close. You looked up to see him leaning down and handing the taxi driver crisp bills.

“Leave.”

Never had you witnessed a taxi drove as fast as he did away from you, the tires screeching dramatically as he sped away from the building.

You turned to him, anger and irritation coursing through your veins. You were physically, mentally and emotionally tired. This was the last thing you needed tonight.

“That was rude.”

He lifted his dark brows at that. He looked down at you and only then did you notice that the hair he usually kept neat seemed slightly disheveled.

“Actively avoiding me, calling me a ghost, and walking away from me when I’m talking to you is what’s rude,” he shot back, his voice just as dark as his eyes.

“Calling me beneath you is ruder, don’t you think? Acting like you were my friend when you were merely toying with me is more improper, don’t you think?”

He flinched at every shot you took. His blunders were by no means light, but he wanted-. No. He needed to make this better. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat and his face lost the glow he had always bragged about! This was a disaster, and this was him putting it on a lighter note.

“I’m-“

“Look, buddy,” you breathed, easing the irritation you were feeling. “What will make you stop?”

“I want to apologize-“

“K. Do it,” you cut him off with a wave of your hand, wanting this to be done so that you can at least get a roughly five hours of sleep once you get home.

He frowned, blinking rapidly at your sudden change of heart. “I’m sorry. I’m terribly sorry-“

“Forgiven. Bye.”

Part VI

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Study Buddies

isaac lahey x reader

summary: isaac asks you for help in chemistry. you agree on one condition.

tags: high school, studying / tutoring, mutual crushes, awkward flirting, caught in a lie, shyness, embarrassment, play fighting / tickling, bad puns, confessions, first kiss, teasing, fluff, pre-wolf isaac; his dad still sucks; autistic-coded reader

word count: 4.5k

a/n: this is my first time writing for teen wolf. I feel like I'm encroaching on claimed territory. 😅 also i've had this tab up for almost a week but have been afraid to post it, so here goes

Mr. Harris slides your progress report down onto your desk before you have a chance to react, and it catches wind and falls to the ground a moment later. You sigh and roll your eyes, but he’s already halfway across the room, impatiently handing out the rest of his stack. Your own little slip of paper is nowhere by your feet, and you resist the urge to make a remark about it. 

“Hey.” A voice interrupts your intruding thoughts at the same time a tap lands on your shoulder. Gentle, as if the tapper hates to disturb you, yet needs your attention. 

You turn, and temporarily forget about your lost report as your eyes meet Isaac’s, the boy who sits behind you, and has the cutest smile imaginable. You drop your gaze instantly, only for it to fall on his dimpled smile, and then, finally, on the paper held between two fingers. 

“I think this is yours,” he says, holding it out to you. 

Your name is clearly printed on the front, followed by your most recent grades in the class. You blush, immediately remembering it had dropped in the first place. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

“No problem. He seems like he’s in a mood today.” 

You nod, then take your paper from his hand. By this time, Harris has made his way back to the front, and is clearing his throat in a demand for the class’ silence. Quiet mutterings amongst friends cease at once, and you turn back to face the ill-tempered chemistry teacher. 

“Take a good look at your progress reports. The midterm is coming up, and some of you have more studying to do than others. Today, we will be learning new material, but next class period, we will have a review day. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask. You can ask at the appropriate time in class, or come see me after school, or shoot me an email. Regardless of your grade, everyone should be studying, however, some of you have to move up a whole letter or two. That is on you to be aware of, and for you to put in the effort to do. Now, pull out your notes so that we can cover this section. It isn’t the hardest thing we’ll cover, but I expect it will be a struggle for some.”

And after that condescending introduction, he begins to teach. 

When the bell finally rings, your head is swarming with so much chemistry, your eyes are beginning to glaze over and put you to sleep. You’re relatively good at the subject, but that topic was more challenging than he warned it would be, making even you confused at times. You shake your head when you reach your lockers, trying to relieve yourself of the numbers swirling about in your mind. It takes a moment. A very stressful moment. 

A tap on your shoulder, more urgent than the last, pulls you out of your mental headspace. The chemistry bounces out of your mind entirely, bringing you back to reality, but making you jump in place at the sudden contact.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice apologies, “didn’t mean to scare you.”

Turning, you come face-to-face with Isaac again. His normally bright blue eyes are slightly cloudy, which worries you more than you’d like to admit. “No worries. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. I have a question, actually, to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Okay, I wasn’t looking at your report, I didn’t mean to see your grades. I accidentally saw them when I picked up your paper, but I promise I wasn’t looking on purpose.” He stalls, continuously apologizing for something not at any fault of his own. 

“It’s okay,” you interrupt as politely as you can. 

He pauses, “um. I was wondering if you could help me? Like, in chemistry. Help me study, kinda like a tutor, I guess?”

You pale immediately. Just because you’re doing okay in the class doesn’t mean you have a clue how to help him understand. “Um-”

“Just… I just need a little help, if you can. I understand if you don’t want to, or can’t, or… I don’t know… are busy.” He runs his tongue along his lips nervously. You snap your eyes to the floor, avoiding eye contact. 

“I don’t know… I’m not a good teacher.”

“But you’re really good in the class. Probably a better teacher than Harris has been lately.”

You chuckle, but you’re still not sure. Being that close to the boy you’ve liked for ages? On top of not being able to teach well? He’ll reduce you to a stupid, stuttering mess, just look at yourself now, unable to look him in the eye. No, don’t look at him, that was rhetorical. 

“I just,” he continues, “when he was talking about people who needed to go up a whole letter, he was talking about me. I know you’re good, you sit in front of me. If you can even just explain it to me as you study, it would help a lot.”

Half of your mind races to find an excuse, looking for an out, while the other begs you to agree. Isaac shoves a hand in his pocket and waits for a response. You debate with yourself for a moment, but then the urging part of your mind wins the argument with a question of its own. 

“What about this,” you start, “I’ll help you in chemistry, if you help me in French?”

“What?” He asks, taken off guard. “I’m not good at French.”

“You’re better than me. You have the answers to most of Ms. Morrell’s questions, and I can hear you when she asks us to recite words out loud.” His eyes narrow at that, to which you reply, “you sit behind me in French, too.”

“Right.” He smiles, but doesn’t meet your gaze. Instead, he rests his head against the locker beside yours. 

“So?”

“How do you know I’m not just guessing?”

“What’s your grade?”

“A,” he sheepishly answers.

“See? You can tutor me.”

“What’s your grade?”

You purse your lips and avoid his eyes again. “Too embarrassed to say.”

“Really?”

“Languages aren’t my strong suit. We all have our strengths.”

“Alright, deal. Help me in chem, and I’ll help you with French.”

“Sounds good. Library, or at one of our houses?”

“I can probably go to the library sometimes. Maybe during lunch or free period. But after school, I have lacrosse, and you probably don’t want to wait around school for that to be over.”

“Okay, so then your house or mine?”

“Where do you live?”

“Like ten minutes from here. You?”

“A bit closer than that. Parents?”

“Don’t really care what I do.”

“My dad is a little controlling,” he admits. 

“Would he care if I were to come over?”

“Not if you’re helping me study.”

“Okay. You want to meet a couple times a week at your house, and sometimes during lunch?”

“Sure. Practice ends around five. Is seven too late?”

“Not for me.”

“Cool. So, um, I’ll text you, and we can plan dates.” He shakes his head. “I mean, like, what days work best.”

You blush at his embarrassment. “Have to give you my number first, doofus.” 

“Oh.”

You scribble it onto a sticky note and hand it to him. “Let me know.”

“I will. And thank you.”

“Thank you, too.” You hurry your way to your next class, leaving him red in the face and hands at having a girl’s number. Granted, it’s just for studying, but it’s the fact he was able to talk to you at all that has him shaken. Isaac forces himself to breathe, before entering it in his phone and tucking the sticky safely in his backpack. As the bell rings, he hurries to his next class. 

~~~~

The next evening is the first time you meet up to study. You drive to the address he’s given and knock on the door as gently as possible. Isaac had mentioned his dad is controlling, so the first thing you want to do is to avoid pissing him off in any way you could. Controlling could mean a lot of things, and the boy wasn’t specific at all. For both of your sakes, you tread lightly. 

Isaac opens the door a moment later, dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweats. You try really hard not to blush as he invites you inside, but then his dad’s strict voice snaps you back into reality. You can see Isaac take a visible deep breath before rounding the corner in the kitchen, you in tow. You put on your best look of professionalism while trying to anticipate how the next couple of minutes might go. 

“And? Who was it?”

“Y/N, the girl I told you I was studying with… with whom I am going to study,” he corrects at the last minute. 

His father’s posture tenses a bit less when his son corrects his own grammar without prompt, but it doesn’t stop his cold eyes from floating over to you. “And you’re studying what?”

“Chemistry, sir. I’m helping Isaac, and he’s helping me with French.”

“And you know French well enough to help her?”

“I believe I do,” he says, trying to sound confident. 

“I think he does, too. In class, he always has the answers, and Mrs. Morrell’s often impressed, and she’s hard to impress more than once.”

“Hm.” His dad takes a sip from a glass, then carefully sets it down on the table. His eyes are locked on Isaac the whole time. The boy stares at the ground, any confidence shaken by the interaction. You study the scene, confused. “Well… Go study. Bring up those grades.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply at the same time. 

Isaac nods for you to follow him to his room, which you oblige. His dad remains seated as you make your way up the stairs. You bite back a comment about the man, even in the safety of Isaac’s bedroom, and he doesn’t say anything, either. The same remark is in both your heads, yet while you want to ask it in a question, he wants to use it as a reassurance. Yes, he’s a bit more controlling than Isaac originally said. No, he won’t do anything stupid while you're there. He tries to convey this in an expression, which you half-understand, but eventually drop it. If anything happens, you’ll leave. Simple as that. 

As it turns out, the first night of you studying together ends up nothing like the initial interaction you had in his house. Isaac is gentle, patient, and willing to learn and teach the best that he can. He’s admittedly worse in chemistry than you are in French, but you’re able to convince him that you only need to work on a few things; an hour of time doesn’t have to be devoted to your studies, maybe only twenty minutes. On the contrary, the other sixty are put towards chemistry. And, of course, the first five are for settling in, and the last five are for uncontrollable laughter at a mispronunciation. 

Thirty minutes to nine, you realize how late it’s gotten and start to pack your things. Isaac looks exhausted, and frankly, as much as you’re enjoying his company, you’re getting tired from talking. 

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He asks, rather quickly. 

You stare for a moment, then, “what?”

“Vendredi.”

“Thursday?”

“Non.”

“Friday?”

“Oui, rencontrer?”

“Meet then?”

“Yeah, would you like to?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Say it again?”

“Voulez-vous qu’on se rencontre vendredi?” He says it slower this time. It has the same effect on you, but you can comprehend each word better. 

“Cool,” you say, not at all thinking about his accent that paints the words so beautifully. “I’ll bring my H2O, since I forgot it this time.”

The boy snorts with more laughter. “Bad joke.”

“Absolutely horrible,” you agree. “See you in school tomorrow.”

“Drive safe.”

“Be safe,” you reply before you can stop yourself, referring to his dad downstairs. 

Isaac only nods. He walks you to his front door, then hurries back up to his room. 

~~~~

Each day you study together follows a similar routine to the first: five minutes to settle in, sixty of chemistry, twenty of French, then five of joking around with each other. Sometimes Isaac pushes for thirty of French instead, worried that you’re sacrificing your own studies for his, and never understands when you push back that you’re good with only twenty. 

His chemistry improves immensely with your help. In three weeks, he manages to pull it up to a ‘C’. Not only is his father a bit more lenient to him after the next progress report, but he’s also more pleasant to you the next time you come around to study. He even cracks a smile. 

Today, you go over just the same as you have been. Seven on the dot, you’re greeted by his dimpled smile and half-friendly father. The man has now graduated to welcoming you, and has once clapped you on the shoulder as you’ve passed. You’re polite to him, though you can tell Isaac’s uncomfortable with his unusual behavior, so you always try to retreat upstairs as soon as possible. This time, he’s busy with something in the kitchen and doesn’t talk for long. He makes one comment about grades; you promise him you’re both doing well, then he lets you go. 

Finally away, it doesn’t take long for you to settle down anymore. You make yourself comfortable on Isaac’s bed, pulling out your notes and pens, and smiling when he joins you. You’ve come to be good friends in the last couple weeks, and although there’s something definitely in the air, too, you’re good with being friends if that’s all you can convince yourselves you are. 

You start, per usual, with chemistry, reading over notes and figuring out problems. He moves closer and closer to you each day you teach, simultaneously making you nervous and excited. Either way, your water bottle remains beside you to calm your ever-growing heart rate. When it comes time to switch subjects, you excuse yourself a minute to recover and prepare for the next half hour. In the beginning, it was easier to hide your blush, promising you’re still getting the hang of the co-teaching thing. Now, your excuse dwindles. The shy smile you wear as he recites words of the love language has never faded. You have to compose yourself entirely, elsewhere, to be able to control your reaction and face him. 

“Can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“Yeah, just over there.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as the door shuts, Isaac jumps off the bed to check his hair in the mirror. In the process, your French binder falls to the ground and loses its page. The boy sighs, mutters an ‘oh shit,’ then pulls it back up to find the page again. He opens the flap and immediately finds a stash of old progress reports. You seem to keep all of your old ones in the front flap of your binder; he’s noticed you have all your chemistry reports, too. Curious, Isaac steals a peek. Despite confessing about his ‘D’ in chemistry, you’ve always cheekily refused to share your French grade. He doubts it’s that bad, but he’s never gotten you to admit it. 

He glances at the bathroom door, then checks the date on the report before scanning the grades. Guilt eats at him the longer he looks, but nosiness, then confusion keeps his eyes glued. Is he really reading that right? There’s no way you have a-

“Sorry about that,” you say, closing the door. 

Startled, he drops your binder and looks up at you. “It’s no worry.”

“What’s wrong?” You notice his change in behavior, like a young boy being caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing. 

“Nothing. Your binder fell off the bed, I was picking it up.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He smiles when you join him back on the bed. You’re not sure if you still have a right to be suspicious, or if he’s just embarrassed because he’s so shy. “So, um-”

Isaac, on the other hand, is brimming with questions. As anxious as he is that you caught him peeking, he can’t help but wonder about what he saw. You start to speak, maybe to change the subject, but he cuts you off, guilt and curiosity both winning. “You have an ‘A’ in French?”

“What?”

“You’ve had an ‘A’ since the start of the year. Why do you need me to tutor you if you already know it?”

You shut your open mouth immediately, face paling at the realization you’ve been caught. “I-... I don’t know. Your grades are better than mine.”

“By one point.”

“Two points. You have a 94. I have a 92.”

“Doesn’t explain the need for a tutor,” he argues.

You study him, choosing to base your reaction off his own. He’s smiling; seemingly happy, curious, and not at all upset. His tone implies no accusation, just confusion, and his body posture is straight, shoulders relaxed. A twinkle shines in his baby blue eyes; his level of eye contact is neither constant nor avoidant. He’s safe. 

“I, um,” you decide to tell him the truth. Or, rather, stutter out the truth. “I don’t need a French tutor.”

“So I’ve gathered.” Decisive tone, yet still friendly. Still safe. 

“I figured, since I would help you with chemistry, even though I’m not that good of a teacher, if you had to teach me something too, it would put less pressure on me to be a good teacher.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay… but why French?” He’s still a little confused on that reasoning, but doesn’t question it. He knows you’re shy. If that’s what you had to do to make it work that you could help him, he doesn’t mind. 

“I, er, well, the French provided a win-win scenario.”

“Which is?”

You shrug, body warming quickly as you near your deeply guarded secret. “I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Mhm, really?”

“You’re best in French,” you offer instead, on a whim.

“True,” he agrees, “though I feel that’s not the real reason, judging by your lack of eye contact.”

“I’m always bad at eye contact.”

“You’ve been getting better with me these last few weeks.”

“Yes, but…”

“I’m not going to judge, Y/N. Whatever you say, it’s safe with me. You trust me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then how is me teaching you French a, as you call it, win-win scenario?”

Finally, you fess, “because I get to hear you speak it every time you teach me.”

Isaac’s quiet for a moment. Then, you realize it seems to have gone over his head as he says, “you hear me speak all the time in class.”

“Yeah, but… with twenty other voices mixed in, too. I like hearing just your voice. The way you know just how to sound it out perfectly, and the way your accent flourishes each sentence. Most people in class sound like they’re gurgling saltwater, but you make it sound hot, like the way French is supposed to sound.” Your mouth utters words before your brain can catch up and prevent you from embarrassment. As soon as you realize what you’ve said, a dizziness swarms your head and it feels like the temperature’s gone up ten degrees. 

Isaac is speechless in front of you. He’s first stuck on the fact that you like his voice, then on his pronunciation being described as perfect, but then he short-circuits as the word ‘hot’ falls from your lips. He doesn’t even realize when you plant your face into your binder, shocked by your own confession. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. It’s muffled, but he hears it enough to pull him from his trance. 

“You like my voice?” He asks, cursing himself for the stupidity of the question. It’s all he can think of to say, though, still trying to cool his own rising body temperature. 

“I shouldn’t have said all that, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he blurts out quickly. “I’m actually quite charmed by that.”

You resist the urge to look up at him, desperate to see if he’s smiling or not. Isaac seems to have a similar thought, and tries to hook a finger under your chin to lift your head. He succeeds, but then you instantly embarrass again, and dive for the pillows, burying your face amongst them. 

“Oh no, get back here,” he jokes. You feel him before you look out to see him. His hands shake your shoulder, but when you don’t respond, he playfully starts to tickle your neck. You scrunch and try to scramble away, but he only continues. “C’mon.”

“I can’t!” The words have finally sunken into his head; the weight of them falls on your chest. 

“Oh, yes you can!” He teases more, moving pillows away from you, just for you to grab another and bury back under it. When Isaac realizes there’s no use in trying to win the pillow war, he swings a leg over yours and begins to tickle your stomach. Your shirt has begun to ride up from your movement, and temporarily, he forgets you’re classmates, not longtime best friends. “C’mon, give it up!”

“I-I can’t!” You’re running out of breath, and pillows. He pulls another away from you, then puts his hands back on your sides. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but only do you open them because of the unfamiliar feeling of him touching you. A beat skips in your heart at the sudden, unexpected realization that he’s not only touching your skin, but he’s also straddling your waist. You swallow hard. He pinches your side lightly, shocking you back into reality, and making you grab another pillow to hide your face again. Before you can grasp it, Isaac grabs your hands and pins them above your head. You pant, heart racing a mile a minute. His too, as you can hear in the moment you both grow quiet. 

“You think it’s hot when I speak French?”

“No, I think you’re hot when you speak French. There’s a difference.”

“Is there now?”

“The temperature of the room doesn’t get hot, it’s you that gets hot.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Not that you’re not always hot… I mean, sometimes, you’re more like a cute little puppy than a hot, French-speaking…” your words fade as your brain catches up, faster this time, yet still not fast enough. 

“Am I now?”

What’s done is done, you figure. Can’t take it back now, can only admit it. “Yeah.”

“Huh. So all this time, you’ve been teaching me chemistry, and I’ve been talking pointlessly while you listen and learn nothing?”

“When you word it like that, it sounds bad.” A pout graces your lips as guilt floods you. “But I have learned some things. I was struggling with direct objects, and now I’m not.”

“Ah. So I’m not totally useless?”

“Never. You wouldn’t be useless even if I knew perfect French.” Before he can reply, you continue. “I’m sorry I wasted your time. I shouldn’t have. Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you for what? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I wasted your time when we could’ve been doing more chemistry.”

“Darling, too much chemistry and my brain woulda exploded. The French lessons are a nice intermission. Besides, I wouldn’t consider any time with you as time wasted.”

“Really?”

He drops your hands and they fall back down to your waist. He seems, then, to realize he’s still on top of you, and begins to climb off. “Sorry, I-”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Can I confess something else?”

He pauses. “Sure, anything.”

“I would’ve been okay with just tutoring you chemistry, but I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye long enough to do it well.”

“You’ve been doing great with the eye contact thing. I know it’s not your strong suit, but you’ve made a lot of progress these last couple weeks.”

“Thank you,” you smile. “It’s not only that.” A heartbeat passes. “I like you.”

“You like me?” His eyes narrow before he assumes only, “you like my voice.”

“No, I like you. I mean, yes, I like your voice, but I like it because I like you.”

“Like me, as in…”

“Like I have a crush on you.”

He tilts his head like a confused dog. “On me?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

“I’ve never had anyone have a crush on me before,” he admits.

Now you’re confused. “What?! How?!”

“I don’t know!”

“That’s stupid. Never had anyone admit it, maybe.”

“I’d never know.”

“Well I’ve had a crush on you since the seventh grade.”

“You moved to Beacon Hills in the seventh grade.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?”

“Very secretly.”

“Huh. Well I’ve liked you since the first day of school,” he confesses.

“I’ve liked you since orientation, so I win.”

He smiles, then shakes his head playfully. “So I sit behind you in classes for years and only finally get the courage to talk to you when I’m borderline failing chemistry, and you only get the courage to talk to me for more than one minute if you can convince me to talk half of the time that we’d be studying together.”

“Sounds about right.”

“And my portion of the talking is in French, because you think my accent is hot?”

“Your accent is always hot; your French is hot on its own.”

“Ah, I’m following now.” He chuckles, letting his fingertips grace your hips. 

“So,” you ask, “as two people with several year long mutual crushes on each other, what do we do next?”

“Well you’re the one that’s been tutoring me chemistry, love, I’m hoping you have the answer.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Wrong kind of chemistry, dork.” You reach your hands up to the sides of his face anyway, and pull him down for a kiss. Isaac complies immediately, setting one hand down beside you, while the other caresses your chin. Your legs hook around his waist, keeping him close until he starts to pull away, needing air. You let go, then hide your face as his own turns a rosy pink. 

“That was worth the wait,” he says, smiling, and touching a finger to his recently-kissed lips. “Êtes-vous d'accord?” 

“Shut up,” you tease, pushing him slightly. “Chemistry time.”

“We just had chemistry time. It’s French time now.”

“No, we can skip a round,” you insist, unsure you can hear anymore French fall from his lips without folding and kissing them again.

“On the contrary, I think you need to sharpen your vocabulary.”

“I think I’ll need a water break first.”

“That we can do,” he agrees. “I’ll make sure to get yours with extra ice.”

“Shush!”

[minghaoslatina]

WHAT A COINCIDENCE!

pairing: idol!wooyoung x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex but not really, making out, condoms, pregnancy test, fluff

a/n 💌: the way I said I would post this like last week 😅🔫

now playing 🎧 supernatural by ariana grande

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

You and Wooyoung exchange puzzled looks as you both step into the dance studio. All the members are already there, and they give you both curious glances as you walk in.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, feeling perplexed by their suspicious expressions.

"We should be asking you that," Hongjoong responds with a hint of mystery in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Wooyoung sets down his dance bag and joins the rest of the members. Just as the tension in the room escalates, their backup dancers burst in, ready to learn a new choreography.

"We'll talk about it later," Seonghwa says with a slight smirk.

You shoot Wooyoung a confused look and step aside to observe them dance. Wooyoung always insists on having you there, claiming you're his good luck charm, but you know he just wants to impress you. Nonetheless, you enjoy watching him do what he loves.

As their practice draws to a close, you find yourself feeling a bit uneasy. What did the members need to talk to you and Wooyoung about? Before you can dwell on it further, Wooyoung collapses next to you on the floor and reaches out his arm dramatically as if he's about to faint. You chuckle and reach into your backpack for a water bottle to give him as everyone leaves except Wooyoung and his members.

"My girl is the best," Wooyoung sighs as he sits up to gulp down the water. You can't help but notice a few water droplets trickling down his pretty neck.

"Are you pregnant?" Mingi's sudden question catches both of you off guard, the words hanging in the air like a shocking revelation. Wooyoung's eyes widen, and he starts choking on his water. You quickly stand up and pat him on the back before turning to face the members, your mind reeling with disbelief.

"No! Why would you think that?" you ask in disbelief. The boys exchange glances before looking at Hongjoong, who seems to be hiding something behind his back.

"This fell out of your purse yesterday while you were here..." Wooyoung nearly faints when he sees Hongjoong pull out a pregnancy test. The room falls silent, the tension palpable, as everyone waits for an explanation.

"I can explain," you hastily interject before Wooyoung jumps to conclusions.

"Is that yours? But we've never..." You quickly cover his mouth before he says anything.

"Never what?" Yeosang asks, genuinely confused.

"Had se-" Yunho is quick to cover Mingi's mouth. Yeosang now regrets his life decisions.

Jongho looks at you, puzzled. "Then why do you have a pregnancy test?" he asks.

You took a deep breath before responding, knowing that this was supposed to be a secret. "A female staff member asked me to do her a favor and get her a pregnancy test. She seemed really scared, and I felt bad for her, so I agreed to help. She gave me the money, and I bought it for her. Just to clarify, I am not pregnant, nor do I have any intention of getting pregnant," you explained, hoping to ease the tension. Wooyoung frowned at your words, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and disappointment, but decided to stay silent for the moment. The others nodded slowly as if they were processing your words.

Right on cue, the female staff member walked in nervously, her eyes darting around the room. You discreetly took the pregnancy test from Hongjoong and handed it to her with a polite smile. The members, their curiosity piqued, stay silent out of respect, their eyes staying on the ground.

"Can we go now?" you ask, nodding toward the dance studio door.

"Yes, let's head out," Wooyoung responds, reaching for his black bag in the corner. The rest of the boys also gather their belongings, preparing to shower and unwind for the day.

"Wooyoung, do you have an extra water bottle?" San asks as he notices two spare water bottles in Wooyoung's open bag.

"No, I don't," Wooyoung replies playfully.

"Come on, just one, please," San pleads, tugging at one strap of his open bag while Wooyoung holds onto the other. They engage in a playful tug-of-war over the water bottles. Everything seems to go in slow motion as the bag falls, and a bunch of condoms appear on the floor. You are the first to cover your mouth in surprise. Half the members burst out laughing while the others stood there in shock.

"Liars! You're pregnant," Mingi accuses, pointing toward you and Wooyoung back and forth.

"I swear those are not mine," Wooyoung panics, "Baby, I swear, those are not mine," he says, facing you. You are still in shock with a hand over your mouth. A pregnancy test? Condoms? This looks so wrong.

"Wow, you guys are freaks," San laughs after picking up a condom and reading the size.

"At least they're using protection," Seonghwa shrugs. You are about to explain the misunderstanding before one of the backup dancers walks in.

"Wooyoung, I think I took your bag by accident," the backup dancer explains with a chuckle. He does not seem the least bit bothered that his condoms are on the floor. Wooyoung is quick to exchange the bags and lets out a sigh of relief when he leaves.

"See? I told you they weren't mine," Wooyoung explains, with a look of relief on his face. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you take a moment to let the tension drain away.

"Things keep getting weirder and weirder," Yeosang sighs, his brow furrowed as he exits the dance studio. As the other members follow Yeosang out, it's just you and Wooyoung left in the room.

"Wow, what a crazy coincidence," you say, trying to infuse some humor into the situation as you let out a nervous laugh and a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... who would have thought," Wooyoung says, his brow still slightly furrowed in contemplation.

"Is everything okay?" you ask, with a tinge of worry in your voice. You hope he doesn't think you're being dishonest. The thought of him doubting you is unbearable.

"Can I ask you something?" Wooyoung hesitates before speaking. "Do you not want to have kids?"

"Um, well, not right now," you reply, caught off guard by the sudden turn in the conversation. You'd never really considered it until now. Before meeting Wooyoung, you hadn't pictured yourself having children, but his kind and compassionate nature has made you reconsider everything. Your sweet, sweet Wooyoung. His heart is so big.

"So, you do want kids?" Wooyoung's eyes light up with hope. He's worried about pushing you too hard, but he's relieved to hear your answer.

"Yeah, I think I do. Especially if you're the dad," you say with a shy grin, gently nudging him. He chuckles warmly and takes hold of your hand.

"It would be an honor to be the father of our kids," he says with a genuine smile.

Your heart swells with joy. "Our kids," you say softly.

"Let's head out, pretty," Wooyoung says, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before guiding you out of the room.

As you both drive to his dorm, the two of you excitedly discuss potential baby names, playfully teasing each other along the way. When you arrive at the dorm, the other members are all gathered in front of the TV, engrossed in a soccer game. Wooyoung quickly freshens up and joins them, and you decide to relax and watch Netflix in his room.

An hour later, Wooyoung enters the room and closes the door behind him. He immediately collapses on top of you, causing you to let out a surprised yelp before embracing him.

"I missed you already," Wooyoung whines, squeezing you tightly.

"It's only been an hour," you laugh, feeling grateful for his affection.

"Too long," Wooyoung mumbles, unwilling to let go as he holds you close.

"I can totally picture our future kids being just as affectionate as you," you tease, playfully poking the dot on his lips.

"You think?" Wooyoung giggles, adjusting his position on top of you to catch your gaze.

"Absolutely," you nod and smile up at him. He looks into your eyes for a second before he starts making out with you. You quickly pull away from your compromising position when someone opens the door.

"Mingi, you have terrible timing!" you exclaim as Mingi jokingly yells, "Liars!" before quickly closing the door.

Feeling a little flustered, you seek refuge in Wooyoung's embrace, burying your face in his chest. Wooyoung laughs with you, resting his forehead against yours.

"Should we start making babies now," Wooyoung suggests playfully while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up," you laugh and push him off you (out of love).

You've never felt so happy.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

[blueclownsworld]

"They're mine." — Diluc (Genshin Impact) x gender neutral reader

Diluc swears he isn't jealous. There's no reason to be, considering nothing's going on between the two of you. You just work at the same tavern, occasionally talking to each other during quiet hours. That's all, so why was he feeling like this?

You were serving beer to a group of men, most of them half-drunk already. You didn't really mind their flirty comments, considering they were just some sweet compliments regarding your looks.

Someone else did mind though. Diluc's eyes were like glued to you as you talked with the men. He wasn't jealous, no, how could he? But for some reason he felt fire burning inside of him, fire that wanted to burn those men. But he wasn't jealous.

"They want another round, sir." your polite tone snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I'll serve them, take my spot for a moment", Diluc replied with low voice, strange flame burning in his eyes as he looked at the table of men.

"You sure, sir? It's usually my job to serve customers", you asked for confirmation, something about him was off.

"I am sure, just let me take care of it", Diluc insisted and walked away before you could say anything further.

'What was different about him today?' you thought to yourself.

"I can see that you're very eager to flirt", Diluc started with almost threatening tone as he reached the table of men. "I'd prefer if you didn't flirt with them though, considering they're mine."

Was it his words or the flaming eyes that made the whole table silent? All of the men went quiet, and moment later Diluc left the table with relieved expression.

Fortunately or unfortunately, you hadn't heard the conversation as you were busy serving new customers. However, when Diluc came back, you could tell that something about him was different. As if a weight had lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe freely. No matter the reason, you were glad to see him feeling better.

"I'm closing early tonight. You can leave or stay around", Diluc said some time later. It was an invitation for you to stay with him, but you could have also went home if you wanted to.

"I think I'll stay around. No plans for tonight", you replied with more casual tone, dropping the 'sir' title as it wasn't work hours anymore.

"The same. Want to kill some time together?" Diluc asked, seeming to have some sort of idea in his mind. You agreed, not knowing where it would lead to.

Your body pinned against the tavern wall, Diluc's muscular chest pressing against yours as his lips were claiming you as his. The kisses started from your face, trailing down to your neck.

"Mine", Diluc spoke with low voice, his breath feeling hot on your neck. "I'm the only one allowed to flirt with you, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir", you answered with shy voice as he was making you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Sir?" Diluc's eyebrows raised at the title. "We're not working currently, are we?"

"No- sorry. What should I call you?" you asked curiously.

"Anything but sir is fine", Diluc answered and continued with more teasing tone "How about 'love'?"

Your eyes widened at the suggestion, it was a bit early for such a name. But, you liked the sound of it.

"Love.." you said the word slowly, considering it. "Hm, I like it. Do you have a nickname for me as well, love?"

Diluc smiled warmly at your words, he felt like his heart was about to burst out of joy. "I have, my darling. Multiple even."

"May I hear them?" you had to ask.

"You'll hear them soon enough, lovely. First I need to make sure others won't think that you're available", he muttered in your ear before continuing the trail of kisses on your neck, these ones would definitely leave marks.

~

Author's note: was feeling silly today- also taking requests

[elspeth-tirel]

New Phyrexia As A Cult

Content Warnings: Heavy discussion of cults and cult recruitment, mentions of sexual coercion, abuse, gore in images (New Phyrexian art so if you’re good with that should be all clear)

I’ve seen many people talking about New Phyrexia with the release of Phyrexia: All Will Be One and March of the Machine. And I’ve seen people talk about the misconceptions of New Phyrexia, like assuming it’s a hivemind. Which leads me into the key point I wanted to discuss with this. New Phyrexia isn’t a hivemind, but there’s a reason it’s assumed to be one by most casual fans. I believe it’s most accurately conveyed as a cult, and that analysing and interpreting the specific ways it is like one has a lot of merit for how it is viewed. I’m also aware that most of what I’m saying isn’t new. Am I the first person to say New Phyrexia is a cult? No. But most of the time, I’ve seen people simply use it as a pejorative term to add on to the list of problematic buzzwords to attach when criticising New Phyrexia or the Praetors. And regardless of whether I agree with those people, I do feel it warrants much deeper exploration into why New Phyrexia is a cult.

I know this post likely will stir up a lot of people saying some not positive things about me and it but I felt it needed to be said. To those people who have a knee jerk reaction towards this and are going to immediately want to send me something criticising this, I don’t anticipate you’ll read all of this. But at the end of the document I did include a list of questions I anticipate a few readers will ask, and I would simply like to politely ask that you read that segment before sending anything to me or replying to this post.

To start talking about cults and the nature of New Phyrexia as one, it’s first necessary to answer a few important background questions. Many people are going to ask if I have personal experience with a cult. To that, yes I have, I was raised in one from birth until around age 17. I would not like to discuss this further, I am simply including this so people know when I speak here I know what I am talking about. Another important thing is the definition of a cult. What differentiates a cult from any other religion? Many people disagree on the exact definition, and every now and again you’ll get someone claiming that all religions are cults. But simplifying it that much loses track of the real harm cults do to a person. I feel a key aspect for what a cult is is Dr. Steve Hassan’s BITE model. BITE stands for Behaviour control, Information control, Thought control, and Emotion control. The key difference between a religion and a cult is one of control. Cults invade every sense of your being, they seek to make it so you don’t have a life outside the cult and what is necessary to maintain it. This is why it’s so difficult for people to leave them. There’s a sense of fear of the unknown. That if you leave there’ll be nothing out there for you. Who knows, maybe they made you do terrible things you can never undo, how will the people who weren’t there forgive you? You can accept the bad parts, because the good parts are there and there’s this giant fear of what will happen if you face the unknown, if you leave. Which brings me to my first major discussion point: Ixhel.

For the unaware, Ixhel is the protagonist of the Phyrexia: All Will Be One side story A Hollow Body, by Aysha U. Farah. It’s a fantastic read, I would highly recommend anyone who finds this essay at all interesting read it. For a brief summary, Ixhel was created by Atraxa- who was herself formerly a Mirrordin angel before every Praetor save Urabrask compleated her- to be used as a soldier/assassin. She feels devoted to Atraxa, but tries to suppress her other feelings- the feeling of love, of want of affection and approval. Throughout the story, she faces challenges to this suppression: a phyrexian named Belaxis who aids her in her mission, the Thane of Contracts himself, Geth, who challenges her on her devotion even as she kills him, and Atraxa herself in the end. She successfully completes her mission to slay Geth, but his words bother her. About her being a faceless drone, replaceable. So she takes Belaxis and Geth, and uses the Dominus of the Dross Pits to combine them into one being, now named Vishgraz. 

Atraxa is furious at the idea of their creation. But it’s not necessarily their creation itself that she really has an issue with. It’s that the creation was made without being ordered to. Vishgraz represents a threat to her not in their existence but in showing that Ixhel took an action other than what was ordered, even if she did it in hopes of imitating her superior in the cult. Because if she can take one action away from orders, she can take more. And that is a threat to her loyalty, which must be punished to ensure she stays in line, to ensure she stays another faceless drone. And Ixhel does take another action aside from orders, an even more direct disobedience: she spares Vishgraz’s life when ordered to kill them. 

Ixhel represents someone born into a cult. She only ever did what was ordered, because it was all she knew. But cults are not a natural state of mind, they’re a method of control that can be broken free from. And this shows with Ixhel. She obeyed mindlessly, until she was given another option, an idea of what could help her, what could make her fix those feelings she had been taught to ignore and repress. This is a common experience, it’s certainly one I went through. It’s not the only experience with cults though. Because another thing to mention is recruitment, and Phyrexia: All Will Be One provides a great example of this too.

Another aspect of the storyline for this set was the idea of compleated planeswalkers. This is a new thing for Magic, with the idea introduced in Kamigawa: Neon Dynasty, with Tamiyo. However this was most fully analysed during Phyrexia: All Will Be One’s main story, by Seanan McGuire (who also did a fantastic job with that story, I would highly recommend that one as well). But something I recently came to the realisation of, that I have not seen discussed, is the common factor between every single compleated planeswalker: they’re all the exact types of people who are most vulnerable to recruitment by cults.

If you’re reading this and thinking “most vulnerable” I want you to keep in mind I mean exactly that. Anyone is vulnerable to recruitment by a cult, especially if you think you’re too smart to be recruited. And that’s where our first victim I’ll discuss comes in, Jace Beleren. Jace is a man who prides himself on his intelligence, on his skill with his mind. But in the story, he falls prey to New Phyrexia because he underestimates them, and overestimates his own skills. The love of his life, Vraska, has clearly fallen to compleation. But he thinks he can be smarter; he can use his illusion and mind magic to give her one last day, one last day together with him, where they can pretend like she hasn’t been infected. And that is what makes him be taken in by the cult.

Jace fell for it because he wanted to be clever and thought he was too smart, but also out of love and devotion to someone else who fell. I believe even if he knew what would happen he would do it again out of devotion. And who knows, the story so far seems to imply he had a plan, that he knew what he was doing. Maybe I’ll be proven wrong and he’ll turn out on top of this situation. But even so, he still lost to New Phyrexia due to this.

Next off is Vraska, another key type to fall for cults. Vraska throughout her entire life has been abused by society, a victim of racism and police brutality. All of those are horrific acts done against her. And cults reach out to those people, they tell them they have the answer, that if they simply follow them they will find the ability to help other downtrodden like themselves, or find a sense of community with others who will not judge them, so long as they follow the rules. Lukka is also very similar to this, but slightly different. Lukka is an outcast, rejected by his entire society, like a very extreme example of ostracisation and bullying. Humans are naturally social creatures, and this can easily be turned against us with a want for acceptance leading us to take abuse we should not tolerate. New Phyrexia also promises him strength, the strength with which he can avoid being hurt again, which he can use to carve a new place in this world and hurt everyone who hurt him, but much much worse. 

Nahiri also falls under a similar umbrella with Lukka, but slightly less self motivated. Nahiri has a burning desire for revenge, for power against the figure in her life who let her down, Sorin Markov. But also, she believes in her heart of hearts that she is a protector, that everything she’s doing is to protect her homeland and her people, the Kor. And what leads her to being compleated is this sense of protection. She sacrifices her own health and her chance at a cure because she wants to ensure the success of the mission of stopping New Phyrexia. And her self sacrifice to do this may have helped the mission succeed, but it doomed her to fall.

Nissa is very similar to her here actually, as she also fell due to helping someone. She trusted Lukka, and tried to help him to the end, and this led her right into New Phyrexia’s trap. Others who fell this way too include Ajani and Tamiyo. They all trusted someone or sought to protect someone, and that trust was used against them. This shows the type of people who fall for cults because they are selfless. Those who fall because they don’t see a value in their own worth as an individual, but do see it as a collective. This is one of the major flaws of white mana: it’s bad at putting yourself first. It’s so easy to simply fall in line with a cult when you’re used to falling in line and obeying to help the greater good, because with the right words it’s easy to convince anyone that anything is the greater good. It feels safe to take some sacrifice, because after all, we’re taught to admire martyrs. We’re taught to emulate, and share. And those are good instincts don’t get me wrong, one of the most beautiful things about humanity is our capacity for love for our fellow man, the ability for strangers to care for strangers so readily just because they need help. But cults take advantage of that, and New Phyrexia is no different. 

This is also touched on in the story Cinders, by Cassandra Khaw. This story is unique because it showcases an aspect of New Phyrexia we haven’t touched on here, the Quiet Furnace. While most aspects of New Phyrexia are definitely considered bad, the Quiet Furnace is the one I’ve seen the most arguments for about it being ethical and good. And while it has the most potential for good with this freedom, it also shows more of how cults prey on the most vulnerable. In the story, a Mirran woman, Reyana, is tempted towards compleation by Slobad. Reyana lost everything. She’s fighting a war she never asked to fight, constantly on the run, constantly in fear for her life. And they show her her mother. At peace with the cult, happy, caring. A lot of people join cults simply to follow loved ones. And this is the exact way Reyana joined. A key thing to showcase that this was not genuine freedom, that despite this promise of peace this was a corruption of herself, is the consequences after. Does Slobad and his group allow the Mirrans to freely mingle with the compleat, to simply talk among them knowing they chose differently? No. While he claims this is a free choice, he also artificially holds back interaction between the cultists and their Mirran family, all interaction unless it is for the purpose of recruitment. This shows the real reason for all of this. It’s a show, a show that things can be good, a promise that life will be better if you join and obey, because those you care about made that choice too. If they really believed in this freedom of choice, the Quiet Furnace would not shun contact with Mirrans, simply tolerating their presence without compleating them, it would embrace contact with them, embrace the diversity of perspective those who did not choose the same as the compleat bring to the table. There are good people among the phyrexians, people who believe what they are doing is right and towards peace, towards helping everyone come to a common understanding. Most criticisms of New Phyrexia I’ve seen make the mistake of calling them all monsters, not thinking for a moment that they aren’t monsters, but people, people who made a bad choice for good reasons. But those people don’t realise that they themselves are a victim, a lure in a trap to make others take a choice they never would’ve made otherwise, with the threat of losing contact with their loved ones if they don’t make that leap.

Another point to consider is what cults offer you, and what New Phyrexia offers you. People join cults because they promise something they lack. Most often that is a sense of community, of welcoming, of becoming, and of love. The price to pay is simply your individuality. When you think about New Phyrexia, that fits perfectly in theme. The oil takes away your worries, it makes you unconcerned with what troubled you prior to your compleation. It doesn’t feel like something wrong, something infecting you, it feels like…. completion. Like something you’ve always been missing has been found. And that’s alluring. That’s genuinely a tempting proposition. Think to yourself, what price would you be willing to pay to not have to think for yourself anymore, to be able to feel safe and just live day to day. That’s the promise of cults. And that’s the promise of New Phyrexia. But it’s not a healthy promise. Following charismatic leaders blindly simply leads to suffering, whether it’s for you or those outside the cult, or others inside of it. This is even shown in the text, in the story for March of the Machine by K. Arsenault Rivera. 

When Elspeth faces off against Elesh Norn, she has been changed. She gave up her life in a moment of turmoil, sacrificed her being to save the multiverse. And she was ascended because of it, having her sense of self altered and her physical form transmuted, when her only choice otherwise was death. Sound familiar? So when Elspeth threatens Norn's rule of power, what does Norn promise her? Friends among the phyrexians, lovers among them. She points out their similarities, how Elspeth is transformed as well, simply in a way deemed prettier by society, how her form is irrevocably altered, how she has a creed she is following just as much as Norn. And Elspeth does think of this offer, she does look around and think of how happy everyone looks, how content they seem to be to be cogs in a great machine forged with glorious purpose. But Elesh Norn doesn’t even think to talk about the consent of those people in the cult for whether they’d even want to be Elspeth’s friend or lover. Many cult members do end up coerced into relationships they do not want, and this is a showing that Norn is no different from any base cult leader. She knows that people deserve freedom of choice, and freedom of thought. The moment Elspeth realises Norn is wrong, the moment she realises she is nothing like Norn, despite the similarities between her religion and Norn’s cult, is seeing how Norn treats Jin-Gitaxias. Jin raises a simple objection, a logical one, that Norn is spending time discussing and talking while their soldiers, their people, are dying. And Norn tells him to be silent. Chief among all things, cults silence dissent against the leader. One could say that’s the cardinal sin in a cult. And that is what makes Elspeth realise she could never be like Norn. And hopefully, eventually, it is what will help Elspeth keep in touch with her humanity after her transformation. Because no matter what, the key lesson is, even the strongest of us is still vulnerable to temptation, to the urge to lose ourselves in obedience of another. And it's more important now than ever to remember to fight that urge.

Anticipated Questions (FAQ I Suppose But Ahead Of Time)

But I don’t see New Phyrexia this way, I think it’s (Insert X Narrative): That’s your view. You’re entirely entitled to it. This wouldn’t be very much of a good essay talking about cults and the importance of the freedom of choice if I insisted everyone else follow my point of view and agree entirely with everything I’ve said.

Are you saying I’m wrong for liking New Phyrexia?: Not at all. Again with the point before, this is my interpretation I am posting for literary merit in hopes it may interest others and perhaps aid their understanding of New Phyrexia. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with liking villains. It’s simply an understanding I came to through a lot of thinking about New Phyrexia I felt others may enjoy. The last thing I want is to start some sort of flame war over this. In fact if you use this essay to start such a flame war and try and make others conform to your beliefs, you have missed the point entirely.

Tell me about your personal experience with cults: Respectfully no. I will talk about that to people I am comfortable talking about it with. People who friend me on Discord may ask me, I may answer but I will not mind them asking. Otherwise I prefer not to share.

If you don’t want people to change their views, why did you post this essay?: I was thinking about my personal experience with cults and I thought others may want to see them and it may interest others, and it helped me type out my own personal feelings.

Isn’t it meritorious to discuss how New Phyrexia also has Christofascist elements with the Machine Orthodoxy and the specifics of the religion and how Norn demands they conquer?: For this specific essay, I actually believe no. A key thing a lot of people don’t think about is not all cults are the same belief systems. They don’t all approach with end of the world rhetoric, or some crazy theory, or hatred of others. Sometimes they’re a group preaching love and acceptance and tolerance, and claiming that you will feel much better with the cult. Sometimes they’re groups trying to take in the underserved of society and use their righteous indignation to serve their own ends. It doesn’t matter that New Phyrexia is Christofascist for why it is a cult, for all we care it could be about refusing violence entirely and spreading tolerance and goodwill to non phyrexians and preaching for coexistence. The key common factor is a manipulation of the members and control of their lives.

Despite all this I’m going to send you an ask or DM saying you’re horrible for this post in some moralistic way: Ok.

[frownyalfred]

But how would Bruce sweep in to help the Kents without raising suspicion on himself? Even if he did it anonymously, theres few people in Gotham that could have the power to so quickly get them out of the public eye. And if he does it publicly, I'm assuming he claims he was doing it to protect the JL as Bruce publicly funds them? Or would he essentially release a statement saying that as a close friend of Clark Kent, he wishes to protect him from the media as he of all people knows how vicious they can be? Idk, I completely agree that Bruce would be the one to get them out, the question is just how?

My heart also breaks for Clark because this is obviously one of the last things he ever wanted to occur. Superman's love for humanity is obvious to everyone and the loss of his civilian identity destroys any chance of him being able to interact with them outside of his superhero identity. Its one thing having to wait for something in the media to 'blow over' but this isn't your everyday politic scandal or other media story, this is the reveal of the man behind one of the Trinity itself, the reveal of Superman. It could easily take months before it stops being the front page cover of every newspaper and after that, what then? How do they move forward?

And all of this doesn't even begin to consider the guilt Clark would feel for ruining Lois and the kids' lives. Everyone would reassure him it wasn't his fault but Clark would obviously take responsibility for this, telling himself he should have been more careful, more secretive, more vigilant. That as a result of his lack of caution, he'd ruined any chance his kids and Lois had at a (somewhat) normal life. I feel like I could even see him being embarrassed to accept Bruce's help, chastising himself for not planning for contingencies like Bruce had.

Sorry to dump all this on you, I'm just so intrigued by the aftermath of the reveal itself.

No it’s a very valid question! In that media/public world, getting them out of the public eye as quickly as possible is the number one priority. That doesn’t need to be attributed to Bruce right away, or even at all — the Kents (all of them) disappear as quickly as possible. They fly to an agreed-upon rendezvous or they are taken there by private security hired by Bruce.

Once there, that’s when the PR shitstorm hits. Superman and his family are found out, maybe there were a few brief videos of them leaving or being escorted out of their workplace (Lois) or flying away from their school (Jon) but nothing long, nothing conclusive.

The media cycle begins. Interviews with the Kent’s’ friends, colleagues, neighbors, etc proliferate the news. Everyone is cashing in on what they can. Bruce, if he’s smart, has Clark and his family locked down somewhere they can’t watch television and is handling the response on his own.

But the reality is, there is not much Bruce CAN do, for the reasons you mentioned. Publicly tying himself to Superman and his family puts WE under greater scrutiny. Coming out in defense of Clark’s lies suggests he 1) knew about them and 2) approves of Superman’s decision to hide from the public.

I’m not sure that conversation between friends will go well. Bruce telling Clark there’s no way to return to their previous lives, not without significant security risks (not to mention the social strain) and Clark spiraling as he realizes he’s inadvertently taken away his Ma’s knitting circle, Lois’ job, Jon’s school.

It’s all different now. If he’s lucky, Bruce has plans to funnel them into a sort of witness protection, maybe in a few years when things settle down. But that would mean splitting them up — and that’s non negotiable. Even keeping Ma and Pa together is a stretch. They’re too easily recognizable.

I imagine maybe Bruce can give them a sort of asylum in the Watchtower, operating outside of any Earth’s jurisdiction. But that puts scrutiny on the Justice League instead. And Bruce is the kind of person to keep the JL autonomous and take the heat on WE if needed — even if he never mentions it.

There are things that Bruce would need to step in on: connections starting to be made between himself and Clark, accusations of Clark not being a US citizen (and Jon too, but because he’s an alien) and Lois for lying to the US government. Accusations that the Justice League was culpable in any way for Superman’s civilian actions. Scrutiny on WE and how much Bruce Wayne knows or should know, or how his funding is connected to a JL that is now under investigation etc.

But yes: I think Bruce could get them out and hidden without tipping his hand. But everything else, yeah, he would need to step into the spotlight at least a little. And he would do that for Clark, because that’s his friend. He’s had this complex series of contingencies ready since…maybe Clark and Lois’ engagement?

Having been in some PR crises, you need a Bruce. Someone not affected directly and cool/calm enough to speak to media, move people around, and make judgement calls. Clark is lucky he has such a friend, even if he’s beating himself up over his own actions and missteps.

I have more (probably more coherent) thoughts about this, but that’s my initial reaction — Bruce gets them out fine, but next steps are very, very complicated. And things won’t ever be normal again.

[mazeinthemiroh]

If you feel comfortable can you do ateez being OBSESSED with reader's boobs

ateez being obsessed with their s/o's boobs

genre: fluff, suggestive ig?

warnings: not proofread, suggestive but not really - all boob talk in these headcanons are strictly fluffy and non-sexual. just some cute lil boob appreciation :D

a/n: yk what i don't usually do stuff like this but i WILL do this one because boobs need to be appreciated and loved :3

hongjoong

god, he loves them...

so he mainly uses them as pillows

will complain about the ache in his neck a lot because he's been tiring away and hunched over in the studio for hours bless 🤧🤧🤧

and he gives you shiny eyes

"you know what would really help me?"

you already know the answer

so you sigh in defeat as he happily snuggles his head on your chest and just lays there

and its endearing because he has never drifted off to sleep so fast before...

seonghwa

this is so funny because i have seen most to leasts of who is most likely to be a boob guy in ateez and seonghwa is ALWAYS< WITHOUT FAIL on top

like... is this canon??? where you guys getting this info from to collectively agree with each other??

anyways, the rumours are true. he loves 'em

just likes a soft they are

and how they look

and how they feel when he hugs you...

idk he just adores them, you get the idea

yunho

openly adores your boobs

he's a man who knows what he wants, yk?

"life's too short to not love boobs"

a new motto of his. charming.

likes it when you wear clothing that accentuates or complements your boobs

he admires them <33333

also he's tall so you gotta watch out for when he's trying to take a peak which is always

yeosang

will absolutely stare at them mindlessly or when he is bored

you know when some people just zone out

he tends to do that a lot. but why does he have to look at that specific area?? idk you tell me

he just thinks they're nice :)

gets a bit shy when you wear an outfit that shows cleavage

he's constantly trying to reprimand himself like "don't look it's not polite"

all i'm gonna say is that you can totally use his obsession to your advantage hehe

san

he's a very clingy boy

and yk what, idk about you but, i'm here for it

he is a cuddle bug and wants to cuddle into you 25/8

claims your boobs are simply the most comfortable things on the planet

and simply has to be in contact with them in some way whilst you guys snuggle up

he does like being on top of you and having his head on your chest. that's less of a boob-obsession thing and more of a comfort thing. he jsut likes being held and being close to you like that ;-;

idk he's a softie

mingi

i classify this guy as being the number 1 boob appreciator in ateez

there's just something about him

i can just TELL he lovesssss them

more than he should, probably

but we can cut him some slack cos he's cute :]

he tries to be subtle with his admiration for your boobs but he literally isn't fooling anyone

another tall guy to look out for because he can and will stare at your boobs

he can be so obvious sometimes it's actually embarrassing

wooyoung

every time he goes in for a hug, his head ends up on your chest as he hugs you

i have a friend who does that all the time like it's a real thing

it's kinda cute actually

and it's less to piss you off and more because he thinks they are comfy

will also use them as pillows

but likes it when he's the small spoon and he can feel them behind him

idk he's not picky when it comes to this so 🤷

jongho

he thinks he's so slick and prim and proper but the moment he catches a glimpse of your boobs it's over for him

he's surprisingly shy about his love for your boobs

like

he doesn't know what to do with himself

wants to touch them non-sexually but second guesses himself

'would you find it weird? am i going crazy?'

those are the types of things going through his mind

but he just stays a blushing mess while you're blissfully unaware of the effect you have on him

[fernlessbastard]

ok hot take. we all hate capitalists. I know. I do too. I really, REALLY hate capitalists.

that being said C!Quackity is the definition of a capitalist. like in a fully "I made the money, I deserve it because I took the risks." "its not my fault that some people dont work as hard as I do." "las nevadas is a company, the only government is the corporation which Quackity owns." way.

he is sat RIGHT at the bottom right corner on the political compass, and he is not budging. obviously, thats not to say hes a homophobe or a racist or generally a bigot, but hes very much a land hoarding, greedy, individualistic, profiteer type guy.

him and wilbur have gotten into several arguments about this, as with pretty much all of the ways Quackity runs his goverment, and shots have been FIRED.

I think the main argument from wilbur would be: "was it your fault that you were homeless after you ran from schlatt? do you really belive that youre the only person who has ever needed to run from financial abuse?" and "if it hadn't been for my policies about taking in all we can feed, then you would have starved to death in the woods. according to your philosophy I should have told you to piss off because you wernt profitable."

and then quackity responding with: "you change your ideology like youre a kid playing dressup, dont act like youre better than me because you woke up and decided that being a marxist suited your situation best, you just want something to argue about." and "you only took me in BECAUSE I was profitable. maybe not through labour but you would have used me as a bargaining chip any day of the week."

anyways, they've both been heads of state and both of them are well versed in political science and economics, which leads to both some very fun conversations and some less fun arguments. (wilbur might enjoy it a little)

ok so yes I agree with that take in the context of the smp, but it's also important to point out that minecraft "capitalism" is what those capitalists who want to convince you it's good claim capitalism to be. Food is abundant, shelter has little requirements to be functional, you can literally just dig a little into a hill and you're set, and then make a farm from things you can find anywhere. Anyone can mine, anyone has access to anywhere that isn't already someone's exact base, food is easily accessible and renewable, etc etc.

What Quackity's doing is he's actually providing a luxury service which isn't at all necessary. And Las Nevadas deserves to earn a profit from people using its facilities, cause they've been carefully and deliberately made to provide entertainment. Quackity doesn't have monopoly on food, shelter, land, resources, etc. Anyone could make their own small version of LN if they had the want and time to. So it isn't fair putting cQuackity in the same box as idfk bezos or musk, cause in cQ's case it's deserved, earned, and not a monopoly that causes everyone but him to suffer. Translating that into real life is just simply much more difficult than taking it at face value

As a sidenote I think that while Quackity is like that on the outside, he still wouldn't ignore someone needing help. Like, he's definitely got that built up resentment of "I had to work for all of this so hard, I've gotten through so many hardships. Why should someone else have it easier??" but then when the push comes to shove he's still end up helping, even if just a little bit.

[jewishvitya]

Hi, I stumbled upon your political posts (and then Yuri, you might get me to watch it now) and I find your perspective fascinating. Maybe it's because I grew up with rather a lot of exposure to Palestinians and various peace movements, but your experience is alien to me, and I am really thankful to be able to read it.

I would like to ask, what do you define as Zionism? As the last month taught me that no two people define this term the same. For me it is the ability for the Jewish people to control our own life in a land that we are bound to, and that has no contradiction with the Palestinian doing the same on this land, that they are bound to it as well. No pressure to answer, just pure curiosity.

And if I may offer some hope for our future? On the fourth day of the war, someone who helps in one of the donation centres for the displaced Israelis ask in the group chat if there is a way to pass the extra clothing and equipment to the people of Gaza. In the past two month I got invites for over a dozes or meeting between Israelis and Palestinians, meetings were both sides shared their sorrows and hopes. When an acquaintance was raising money to help a Bedouin family whose house was hit by a rocket, he has to tell people to stop donating. People in my surrounding have been talking about the day after, building plans so they could help build a better place for both people. A long-fought battle in the courts was won, and a group of settlers were ordered to evacuate Palestinian land. Activists have been going to assist in the olive harvests in the West Bank, despite it all.

There is hope for us here.

Hi! Thank you! If you do watch YOI I hope you enjoy it lol.

I know my experience is not very common. Even other Israelis get shocked by the depth of the hatred and the indoctrination sometimes. I try to emphasize that it comes from the most extremist community we have, because I have no idea what the schooling looks like in other areas.

And sure, I'll try to explain, and maybe also why I choose to label myself as anti-zionist.

I don't know that I can give you a dictionary definition, because I define zionism mainly by what it did in practice - the colonizing of Palestine. And when I say colonizing, I'm not making claims about indigeniety or lack of it. I'm defining it through our tactics and our actions. Especially because early in the movement they openly used colonialist frameworks.

Some of the softer definitions of zionism, things like our right to self determination, our right to seek safety - these aren't things I'm against. And I understand that within zionism there were other proposed ideas that weren't necessarily meant to end up with an ethnostate, resulting in ethnic cleansing. So I know zionism is more complicated than what we see in Israel. But what we see now is the reality people are living as the outcome.

If we came here and said "we've been longing to go back here for such a long time, we suffered so much abuse, we want to live alongside you in our shared homeland, can we find a way to ensure our safety and yours" - this would have been a different conversation. Still complicated, because mass immigration is complicated, but different.

In reality, we destroyed communities to manufacture an ethnic majority. Tore a whole society apart and shattered it, spread it all over the world. We killed and expelled and traumatized. I called it the cycle of abuse on the scale of nations - taking horrors we suffered and inflicting them on others. So given the practical results of the zionist movement, I can't treat those softer definitions as the "true" definitions that people should go by.

I keep thinking about Jewish refugees being given the homes of Palestinians with meals still on the table. Because of course we have a right to food and shelter, but not at their expense. And I know you agree with me on this.

When I say I oppose zionism, that's generally because I'm talking about the reality, the impact the movement had on human lives, not an idealized version we might imagine or a philosophy someone wrote about that never came to be.

For me, if I want to talk about our safety in our ancestral homeland and detach it from the horrors committed by Israel, zionism isn't the right framework. And after all the destruction we caused the land to conquer and colonize it, if I want to talk about our connection to it, I think zionism shouldn't be the word I'm using.

There's also an aspect of, by insisting on defining zionism through a nicer idea rather than harm done to real people, I see it as taking away a language that oppressed people are using to talk about their oppression.

I hope that makes sense.

I really want us to find a different way to work towards safety, without it being at the expense of another group of people.

And thank you for that last paragraph. I definitely have hope. It's hard, seeing videos of our soldiers being so gleeful about the destruction. I lost a friend of over ten years because of the callous and cruel things he said over the past couple of months, and I can't bring myself to repeat them. But I know that better things are possible, and I'm glad we're building towards them. I'm terrified that our government won't let us move in that direction, but we're going to push there anyway.

[etherealbelphie]

An Unwanted Interruption (Ft. Lucifer and GN!MC)

Warnings: Slight romantic implications? (Lucifer has a crush on the MC if you squint)

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I've had a bunch of Christmas/winter themed stories in my drafts for a while, I figured it was about time to polish them up and post them! This will be the first of many :D This is also somehow the second Lucifer-centric fic I've ever written. This concept had me giggling the entire time I wrote it, so I hope you enjoy it!

I think I added all the right warnings, if I should add any, please let me know!

-Ethereal ^J^

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer had agreed to take you to the human world during the holiday season.

While Christmas in the Devildom was alright, they hadn’t begun celebrating the holiday until much more recently, when Christmas became less about religion and more about spending time with those you love.

Christmas in the Devildom didn’t have the same history and tradition that the human world did.

Which is why you were so ecstatic, even if you were only going to a mall for a few hours.

“Come on, let’s go!” You said impatiently, bouncing on your heels.

“The human world is cold this time of year, is it not?” Lucifer asked, buttoning up his jacket.

You could’ve sworn he started going even slower just to spite you.

“It’s cold, but it’s not that cold,” you emphasized, gesturing to your outfit. You two were going straight inside, and you didn’t feel like lugging a ton of winter gear around. “You know there’s heating in the mall, right?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes but finished buttoning the rest of his coat quickly. He tugged on his gloves, then turned to you. “Very well, let’s get going then.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you a little closer. “So the both of us will be teleported,” he claimed.

He mumbled something you couldn’t be bothered to decipher -though it sounded vaguely Latin- and next thing you knew, the two of you were standing in an empty alleyway.

“Holy crap, we’re here!” You exclaimed, unable to look away from the snow glittering in the sunlight. Even as the cold wind whipped at you, you could still feel the faint traces of the sun’s warmth.

“Of course we’re here,” Lucifer scoffed. “Did you really think I’d fail?”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, though your mock-irritation was quickly replaced by excitement once more. “Now, come on! I know where we are! The mall is this way!”

You grabbed his hand and began leading the way through the snowy streets. If Lucifer had a problem with that, he didn’t say so.

With the enthusiastic pace you’d set, the two of you had made pretty good time, and were by the front entrance no more than ten minutes later. The first set of automatic doors opened, and the two of you stepped inside.

You sighed in relief as a wave of warm air hit you, then you turned to Lucifer. “So, what did you want to do first?”

“I don’t have a preference,” He answered, tugging off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. “I figured that I would allow you to choose what we did today, seeing as you’re more familiar with this environment than I am.”

“Oh!” You paused a second, thinking. Lucifer always took your opinions into consideration, of course, but him having none of his own was exceptionally rare. “Well, when I’m here, I usually go to-“

You noticed a woman had approached the two of you, patiently waiting for you to finish your conversation.

“Ah…can we help you?” Lucifer asked.

She smiled, pulling a book out of her bag— Oh no.

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?”

You were certain you had an expression of absolute horror on your face and couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Thankfully, Lucifer took the reins and answered. “Oh, no thank you.” He smiled at the woman politely.

“At least take this, then?” She held the book in his direction, and he recoiled.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I can’t touch that. I may literally burst into flames.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. You weren’t sure if you were absolutely mortified or about to start crying from laughter.

“What, are you a Satanist?” She asked, scowling.

“Certainly not,” Lucifer said, sounding offended at the mere suggestion. “He wishes.”

That response was enough to push you over the edge, unable to contain your laughter. This prompted strange looks from literally everyone around you, but you didn’t care.

The woman stared at you a long, long moment before she finally turned around and left, which only made you laugh harder.

Lucifer looked at you a moment. Though his lips were pressed together, you could see him cracking a smile too.

“I-I’m sorry!” You exclaimed between fits. “I- I didn’t know what to do!”

He chuckled. “That wasn’t the first time, and I’m quite certain it won’t be the last time someone approaches me about my father. I’ve gotten good at responding. You, on the other hand…” He simply smirked at you, which made you start laughing all over again.

[seraphica]

A Walkthrough of Project 2025

By Emily Galvin-Almanza, originally on Twitter.

You may have heard the term “Project 2025” floating around, and you may even have cracked open the 900+ page document yourself, only to see a lot of kind of bland, policy-wonk text. So let me crack through the policy-speak and tell you WTF is in this document.

This is, um, a long thread. But if you want a lot of info about Project 2025, all in one place, you've come to the right place.

This document is what Trump and his team will do if elected. It’s their document, their plan, their platform. So like…it’s not *me* saying what they’ll do, this is *them* saying so. documentcloud.org/documents/2408…

Shall we dig in? I’ll organize and give you page numbers. I’m going to start with criminal justice stuff (of course) and then we’ll wander through other topics like repro rights (none), discrimination (fine, unless it’s against nuclear power), environmental protection (gone), etc

Predictably, this is a document full of states-rights claims, but (true to form) there is very little left to the states when it comes to a Trump criminal legal system.

Generally, the Constitution reserves criminal law to the states, allowing localities to create criminal accountability as they see fit. But under a Trump regime, “small government” just means “no EPA or medicare and HUGE expansions of DOJ’s criminal division power.”

A primary target? The discretion and decision-making of local prosecutors.

Prosecutorial discretion is part of the foundation of our legal system—the idea that the people elect their prosecutor, and can elect (or not elect) a person whose judgment they agree with when it comes to what to focus on when it comes to criminal prosecution.

The Trump DOJ will basically override local voters and prosecutors, bringing federal charges where they deem states not punitive enough. (553)

I should note that this is a ridiculous, massively difficult thing to do—our criminal court system is spread across 3,143 counties.

So what it really means is that the Trump DOJ will troll for cases they find politically meaningful, and use the full weight of the federal government to prosecute specific individuals who stand for stuff they don’t like.

They’re not just going to take on targeted prosecutions, they’re also going to legally come after prosecutors who they feel aren’t prosecuting enough. (553) It’s like this, but EVERYWHERE politico.com/news/2024/04/1…

And somehow they’re also going to do everything they can to make sentences harsher, and increase utilization of the death penalty (553-554).

They’re going to double down on the war on drugs, prosecuting interstate drug cases much more harshly (and by “interstate drug trade” they also mean “mailing abortion pills”) (555, 562).

They will also take election integrity out of the hands of the Civil Rights Division and put it in to DOJ’s criminal division (563), which means you see a lot more cases like Crystal Mason’s, but at a federal level: nytimes.com/2024/03/28/us/…

The long and short of it is, we often think of “prosecution of political enemies” as, like, Donald Trump sending DOJ after Liz Cheney or Rachel Maddow or something. And we forget that this can also mean persecution of ordinary people like Crystal Mason.

People who are not high profile themselves, but whose conduct (or even mistake!) is in a subject matter area that makes them the political target. Under this regime, being in a state that would not choose to prosecute them may be no help.

It’s also important to remember the ramifications of highly punitive policies. A DOJ that seeks the max on every case, seeks the death penalty, increases immigration detention (below), is a federal government expanding (& lining the pockets of) the prison industrial complex.

We already live in a country where basically all social ills are funneled into our criminal court system. SCOTUS just increased that trend by allowing people who are living on the street with nowhere else to go to be prosecuted for…existing…outdoors.

But in this administration, we can see an expansion of what is criminal. You’ll see a lot of Torquemada-esque interrogatory stuff in the doc (especially at Treasury?!) but the most obvious expansion of the criminal system is into the zone of women’s health.

In other words, reproductive rights? Never heard of her. The document is pretty fixated on abortion, unsurprisingly, with plans to end all forms of abortion access (including pills) throughout the document (6, 104, 284, 450, 455 - 459, 503 - 529, 562)

There’s one point I’d like to hit on in particular: this week SCOTUS punted a case back to Idaho which was covered as a case allowing emergency abortions to save a woman's life.

But in fact, that's not what really happened here---the Court punted the issue back to the Circuit court, leaving the question of whether women need to be actively dying to receive an abortion open.

Reminder: long as there is legal uncertainty, there are doctors doing nothing while wondering what they're supposed to do as a woman lies bleeding and septic on their table. msmagazine.com/2024/06/28/emt…

The fact of the matter is, under a Trump administration, they could (and would) simply choose to stop fighting to make hospitals to offer abortion in cases where it is necessary to save a woman's life.

They could simply stop fighting for EMTALA, the statute that says hospitals that get federal dollars have to offer emergency care.

And also, in Project 2025, they want to go even farther than that, farther than banning abortion. They want to MAKE SURE DOCTORS DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO DO IT.

Specifically, this doc makes the Dept of Health and Human Services responsible for ensuring that training for doctors, nurses, and doulas doesn’t include anything about abortion (485-486).

Oh also DOJ is going to be the Abortion Police and go after anyone mailing abortion pills (562).

Side note: I don’t actually disagree with ensuring more coverage for things relating to women’s preventative healthcare but Project 2025 weirdly endorsing the rhythm method is hilarious

So they're gonna make you have all these babies. Who is going to take care of these babies? Were you thinking maybe you could get access to daycare? Oh no, mama, we want YOU to take care of the babies. What’s that? You had a job? Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.

HHS now, under Trump, thinks the gay agenda is destroying families, but the presence of a biological father can prevent all manner of bad things up to and including teen pregnancy (presumably because dad is going to meet your date at the door with a shotgun)

But also….having an adult male father figure who is NOT your bio dad is apparently the worst and most evil thing in the world. BAN BOYFRIENDS.

The Trump administration would like to make the federal government close its eyes, put its fingers in its ears, and hum loudly when anyone says “gender." Specifically...

...they will scrub out any mention of the existence of trans/nonbinary/LGBTQIA+ Americans in federal agencies, policies, regulations, and legislation (4-5, 62, 259, 333, 475).

To quote, “the terms sexual orientation and gender identity (“SOGI”), diversity, equity, and inclusion (“DEI”), gender, gender equality, gender equity, gender awareness, gender-sensitive, abortion, reproductive health, reproductive rights”

These terms are getting cut “out of every federal rule, agency regulation, contract, grant, regulation, and piece of legislation that exists.” (p 4-5)

Damn, who's the language police now?

This document—in a quest to be really, really fundamentalist about gender identity—also completely abandons the idea of supporting gender equality as a whole. Efforts to protect women and girls internationally? Hell no.

Like, USAID should “remove all references, examples, definitions, photos, and language on USAID websites, in agency publications and policies, and in all agency contracts and grants that include the following terms"

And the terms are “gender,” “gender equality,” “gender equity,” “gender diverse individu- als,” “gender aware,” “gender sensitive” (259)

They would very much like to kick trans people—and anyone gender nonconforming!---out of the military (103-104). Remember Demi Moore in GI Jane? Yeah the second she gets that buzz cut she’s OUT.

What about race discrimination, you say? Well, we will have no idea, because the Trump administration plans to stop collecting any data about that. The EEOC will stop collecting data about race entirely (583).

BTW when I say this is a tricky document, this is what I mean...

The document justifies ditching any data collection by saying that “Crudely categorizing employees by race or ethnicity fails to recognize the diversity of the American workforce and forces individuals into categories that do not fully reflect their racial and ethnic heritage.”

Which at first glance, a person could be like, yes! Racial identity is complex! Let’s not put people in boxes!

But then you step back and realize that NO LONGER HAVING DATA ABOUT WHETHER BLACK AND BROWN PEOPLE ARE OR ARE NOT GETTING HIRED does exactly ZERO GOOD THINGS it just makes us UNABLE TO TELL IF BAD THINGS ARE HAPPENING.

The document is full of this—really normal-sounding pablum that actually means “we are choosing to have no idea whether Black and Brown people are being shut out of the workforce, why would the government want to know that?”

The government doesn’t need to know! Because they don’t think disparate impact—when a particular group is disadvantaged in the workplace—matters anyway!

They would “eliminate disparate impact as a valid theory of discrimination for race and other bases under Title VII and other laws. Disparities do not (and should not legally) imply discrimination per se.” (583).

BTW on this point they get hella hella weird about the idea of racial equity at the Treasury Dept…where they would essentially like to have an Inquisition:

Essentially, under this administration, any agency that wants to think about whether race is playing a role in the fairness of their sector can GTFO.

If you go into the original doc and search for “DEI” you basically enter a forest of grandpas yelling I DON’T SEE COLOR YOU CAN BE BLACK WHITE GREEN PURPLE OR POLKA DOT FOR ALL I CARE

BTW you were hoping that a Democratic Senate could be an effective check of some kind, first thing in this doc is that they want to kind of tell the Senate to F off

Specifically, the plan is to get Trump-loyalist appointees into position, scrap the Senate confirmation process for a lot of these appointees and let the rest start working even before Senate confirmation. (p136-137, 173)

All of the agency heads are clearly designated as political in this doc, not expert/neutral. So EPA (428), DOJ (560), FBI (552), HUD (508), DOL (615)...basically the doc calls for the insertion of as many loyalists as possible

And yes, the job of these loyalists is, in many cases, to dismantle the agency they head.

I don’t really know where to categorize this, so I’ll put it here: they think the Department of Homeland Security suffers from “wokeness.” I’m not making that up, they said in black-and-white serif font. I can’t make this stuff up. Page 135.

So like, to be clear, in the same breath as they’re talking about the wokeness of DHS, they would also like to reinstate the Border Patrol officers (who work under DHS mind you) who were accused of galloping up on migrant families and whipping them from horseback.

“CBP should restart & expand use of the horseback-mounted Border Patrol. As part of this announcement, the Secretary should clear the records & personnel files of those who were falsely accused by Sec. Alejandro Mayorkas of whipping migrants and issue a formal apology” (139).

FWIW what they’re referring to is some CBP agents who nearly trampled a kid and used their reins in a way that was, er, whip-like (and before you accuse ME of being overly sensitive, I have ridden exactly this way in my life BUT I WAS MOVING CATTLE NOT HUMAN BEINGS.) politico.com/news/2022/07/0…

Anyway, because DHS is too woke, they need to shrink it down until it mostly just detains and deports immigrants.

They’re gonna bust its union and remove most of its programs and privatize both the TSA and also FEMA’s flood insurance program so you can get bilked if you live in a region prone to flooding (shhhh don’t say the floods are due to climate change).

SPEAKING OF CLIMATE, we’re definitely going back to the same “if you don’t have any information about the problem, the problem cannot exist” strategy they use on race.

To that end, they would like to get rid of Offices of: Domestic Climate Policy (61) Interagency Working Group on the Social Cost of Carbon (SCC) (61) Clean Energy Demonstration (381) The Clean Energy Corps (386) Environmental Justice & External Civil Rights (442)

This means getting rid of climate efforts in foreign aid programs (257), stopping the USDA’s efforts to focus on sustainable food production (293—who will need to eat in 20 years anyway? Certainly not our children, they will have evolved to photosynthesize and graze on plastic)

Anyway they’re getting rid of energy efficiency standards for appliances (378) as well as cutting down all EPA activity related to climate change, including repealing the Inflation Reduction Act programs providing grants for environmental science activities (440)

BTW, I think it’s worth noting that there are a lot of things stated as binaries that aren’t binary. Ending energy efficiency requirements for appliances, for example, to focus on cycle time and reparability.

I also want a right to repair! I also hate it that my car’s internal computer makes it really hard to work on my own car! I just think that we, as consumers, have the right to demand BOTH and this doc incorrectly insists that we have to CHOOSE.

I don’t have to choose between repairing an appliance that massively pollutes the planet or having an energy efficient one that will lower my bills but break every two years. WE CAN DEMAND BOTH. False binaries are a sneaky, crappy constant in this document.

I’m highlighting them in particular because false binaries are also a way of dividing us. There are things I can agree with conservative friends on…literally Monday I was having a fun, productive, common-ground convo w/a conservative friend. False binaries are toxic bullshit.

Toxic ideas abound in here. You know how TX created an abortion regulation scheme that incentivized members of the public to effectively be abortion bounty hunters? Project 2025 would do the same for *science.*

Project 2025 would incentivize citizens to come after scientists under the False Claims Act for research misconduct. This is p 438. Fun times!

This is all part of diluting expertise so that the scientists who are trying to warn us about massive danger ahead can get drowned out by “citizen scientists” whose research the EPA will…equally prioritize??? 438.

Housing and Urban Development also gets their climate programs cut (508) because, much like food, who will need housing in the future? We will return to caves, as we should.

Oh, if how much oil drilling the US is doing matters to you as a voter, Project 2025 basically says maximum drilling, all the drilling, all the time (523-524).

Just a quick note in case you were thinking this was a serious policy document: note the contrast between the doc’s desire to let states drill as much as they want bc “States are better resource managers than the federal government because they must live with the results” (524)

And revoking CA’s ability to set its own air quality standards (627)…because…states…shouldn’t be allowed to self-regulate, I guess, if their regulations make things harder for the oil industry?

Oh also they’re gonna freeze all EPA activity which wasn’t Congressionally authorized on Day One (436). How often does stuff get through Congress anymore? This one echoes the recent SCOTUS decision which also strips regulatory authority.

Basically more drilling, no windmills, don’t even think about encouraging electric cars (286).

Also open season on wolves and bears (534) and let’s just mass execute America’s wild horses (529)

To break it down, if you, like me, are a mom who is concerned about the quality of water your kids are drinking at school, and wants the gov’t to be quickly responsive to new discoveries and problems (like PFAS!) that might give your kids cancer, well, you’re fucked.

If there’s a new thing that is discovered that we should regulate/know about, too bad, because of things like this: “Remove the Greenhouse Gas Reporting Program (GHGRP) for any source category that is not currently being regulated.” (425).

Climate, of course, impacts migration. The more the US contributes to climate catastrophe, the more the consequences will be felt by the developing world, particularly in regions close to the equator and low-lying regions.

What will we do about immigration? Build more prisons for immigrants (142), send unaccompanied children away (148) increase the fees to apply for asylum + generally make immigration more expensive (146) & make it so gang violence & domestic violence no longer justify asylum (148)

Cut funding for NGOs that help immigrants find safety, and instead spend that on walls and jails (149).

Eliminate prosecutorial discretion on immigration cases (150). Oh and we’re doing the head-in-sand thing again by eliminating the office that tracks immigration jailing. 165. They don’t want an “impediment to detention.”

For Americans who rely on government programs to do things like feed their children, keep a roof over their heads, or get healthcare, things will also get worse.

They really hate healthcare: “In essence, our deficit problem is a Medicare and Medicaid problem.” (283).

Even though they want people to have a lot of babies, they’re putting in new requirements on SNAP (299), reducing eligibility for Medicaid (467), cutting school lunch programs (302-303), and eliminating Head Start (482).

Oh and also fuck Sesame Street (247) (and public broadcasting generally).

Safe baby formula? Not a priority. “As for baby formula regulations generally, labeling regulations and regulations that unnecessarily delay the manufacture and sale of baby formula should be re-evaluated.” (302).

Speaking of schools, they’re going to get rid of the Dept of Education, which they say is “a convenient one-stop shop for the woke education cartel,“ (285, 319).

Instead of schools, let’s give teens more dangerous jobs. “Some young adults show an interest in inherently dangerous jobs...DOL should amend its hazard-order regulations to permit teenage workers access to work in regulated jobs with proper training and parental consent.” (595).

There’s kind of a sharp contrast here between high trust of parents in some contexts (to let their kids work dangerous jobs) and low trust of parents in others (if a father isn’t father-y enough terminate parental rights as fast as you can (481-482)).

Obviously, the Biden efforts to forgive student loans are toast (354) but also public service loan forgiveness is toast! “End time-based and occupation-based student loan forgiveness.” (361).

Having a job may be overrated anyway, and so the Trump Admin will tell the Fed to only think about price stability, eliminating full employment as an economic goal (661). Actually WTH maybe abolish the federal reserve completely (also 661).

Oh also if you were looking forward to lower drug costs, they want to end the program where the gov’t can negotiate lower prescription drug costs. 465.

As a matter of fact, no one will protect consumers against fraud and dangerous products under this admin…they are going to eliminate the CFPB completely and return consumer protection to banking regulators who are SO GOOD AT CONSUMER PROTECTION OF COURSE (/s/) 839.

Education, of course, is critical to the ability to distinguish misinformation. Under Trump, we better get ready for a lot more disinfo, because they’re going to yank federal efforts to combat misinfo/disinfo online. Facebook free for all, now with AI generated videos! (155, 550)

Speaking of misinfo, there will be no more independent Federal Election Commission.

Headed by a Trump official (with or without Senate confirmation!) the FEC will only investigate claims the Trump administration wants investigated, and remove its authority to decide what to litigate by handing that over to DOJ. (803, 865)

Oh also the new president will have to have a way to quickly deal with any ongoing, er, litigation, like, uh, criminal cases (but also ongoing litigation that conflicts with his agenda, like, say, civil rights consent decrees or environmental enforcement litigation. (28)

In the name of EXPEDIENCY, they say, the President’s lawyer (the White House Counsel) should give high-level super fast advice without wasting time on, like, researched legal memos or anything.

In other words, what Trump does will be on the advice of a counsel who doesn’t write stuff down. Not great!

Oh also the person chosen need not have fancy credentials (oh okay I'm all for that) as long as they’re LOYAL (oh wait no). Also p 28.

I’m sorry to tell you guys this, but this is like…scratching the surface. This is the beginning. This is the stuff you should know now.

If there is something you care about in this world, I think you should dip into this document and search for it, because you might find something hideous. documentcloud.org/documents/2408…

[original thread]

[xclowniex]

I want to talk about allegations of jew face aka claims that someone is faking being jewish.

On one hand, people do fake being jewish. Last year, at pro Palestine protests, JVP handed out shirts with "not in our name" on the front and "jews say ceasefire now" on the back, to people at protests. Some of the people who recieved and wore the shirts were jewish, but there were also non jews given the shirts and wore them. This shirt is still available for sale on the JVP website. Non jews who wear the shirt are doing jew face, as the shirt implies they are jewish.

Then you have blogs like one which was deleted a few months ago, who claimed to be a jew but was actually someone from Iran. Whilst there are jews in Iran, the blog was claiming to be a Jew in the US. So safe to say, it was an Iranian psyop as they were antisemitic.

Conversely, there are many antizionist jewish bloggers who get falsely slapped with the accusation that they aren't really jewish. 10% of jews worldwide are antizionist or non zionist (someone who doesn't believe that countries should exist, and therefore believes both Israel and Palestine, along with every other country should no longer exist).

And it is actually disgusting when an antizionist jew gets slapped with claims that they aren't actually jewish. A jew is a jew is a jew. Someone's opinion does not strip them of their jewishness.

This post was something I have been wanting to talk about but the thing which motivated me to write it is a post I saw listing behaviors that if someone who says their jewish does, then they aren't really jewish.

And I agree with this in some capacity. A lot of those behaviors are indicative of someone faking being jewish, but no group is a monolith and there could be real jews doing that behavior. I'm giving the benefit of the doubt to that poster and assuming they meant it as a loose rule and not hard criteria.

Some of the behaviors listed were people only saying they were jewish after Oct 7th, jews who post antisemitic content, and blogs which go beyond criticisms of Israel and is literally just xenophobia and that's all they post.

And yes, that are all things which jew fakers do. They only claim to be Jewish to gain a sense of being reputable. However I have spoken with jews who are really jews, who do engage in that behavior. Do I agree with that behavior (excluding claiming to be Jewish only after Oct 7th)? No, I do not. I think it's terrible. But does that made a person less Jewish? No. The reason I excluded the only claiming to be Jewish post oct 7th is because for some jews, being jewish wasn't something they want to advertise on their blog. Whilst I have said I was jewish on past blogs I've had, on this one, it wasn't till after Oct 7th did I make it known here. Which for those who never knew my old blogs, which would be everyone as I was cyberstalked by an ex and would delete blogs when my ex found them, it comes off as if I'm suddenly claiming to be Jewish post oct 7th.

There is also another claim commonly tied to claiming antizionist jews are fake jews, which is that antizionist jews must have no connection or limited connection to jewish culture. That they were either not raised with jewish culture or if they were, as an adult they no longer practice even secular judaism. And whilst again yes, this is true for some, it's not true for all.

There is a popular antizionist jewish blogger on here, which has spoken multiple times about how they practice jewish culture and religion. It would be stupid to deny it because of a political belief.

This post as ended up being far longer than I intended, so to hurry up and get to the point, I do not think we should fake claim jews unless there is hard proof that someone is faking being jewish.

Hard proof can be a person claiming prior to not be Jewish, if a blog is revealed to be a psyop, or if you personally know the person running the blog and know for a fact that they aren't jewish.

[vivelareine]

hello! i agree with your post about MA being blamed for her husband's actions broadly, but do you have a source for her being the one who suggested a more reasonable carriage for their attempted escape? not that i doubt you or anything but i would like to know more since i have heard many conflicting things about this detail. thank you :)

Oh I should clarify, Marie Antoinette didn't come up with the idea of smaller carriages for the flight--but there's no reason to think she disagreed with the suggestions when you read the related Fersen correspondence. As it was Louis who decided to reject the proposals (which came from Bouille, Breteuil and Fersen) which may have... may have... resulted in the family not being captured.

(I say may have because this was almost a "Titanic" situation in which everything that could have gone wrong, did go wrong, and it wasn't necessarily anyone or any particular choice's "fault." But people love to blame Marie Antoinette for Varennes, usually claiming she wanted to have a big vain carriage or she refused to part from her perfumes or she was a dumb woman who didn't realize they shouldn't all travel together etc etc.)

The initial proposals (I believe direct from Fersen & Bouille, not sure offhand about Breteuil) was for multiple common carriages--which would require the family to be split up--whereas the king wanted one large carriage that would mean the family (and Tourzel) would be together, and would not need to stop for various necessities.

Sometimes Tourzel is blamed for this, the idea being that the reason for the larger carriage was because she refused to part from Louis Charles, but I haven't found any letters which suggest it was Tourzel who was the deciding factor here. NVM I remembered it was Bouille who blamed her initially; Bouille said in his memoir the reason why the king didn't have a military man in the carriage is because Tourzel refused to not go with the family. But this was not brought up at all in the actual 1791 correspondence, it's something Bouille claimed much later.

And in any case, Louis was the king, he could have easily told Tourzel that she must be in a separate carriage... and would a 5 person carriage really be all that smaller than a 6 person one?

Edit: To add, the Tourzel variation of why the carriage was so big is fascinating because Madame de Tourzel's version of events is that Marie Antoinette said she (Tourzel) would be too ill to make the journey and must leave the Tuileries before the flight.

Tourzel basically told Marie Antoinette that she was willing to die for the family and her charges, and that if she were a man Marie Antoinette would not have said she must stay behind, and that if she left the palace everyone would know about their plans because she had publicly said that "death along could make me abandon the dauphin," and that if she thought for a moment she was hampering the flight, she would of course stay behind/not go with them, but that she would otherwise wish to go and serve her country.

But this gets turned into "Tourzel wept to the king about it and he gave into a woman's tears."

Anyway--

Bouille and Fersen also proposed that the king have able military men with them for safety and to take charge; this was also rejected. Louis initially wanted M. de Bombelles with him but rejected it due to political implications. It was not until very late that this was rejected, a lot of the flight to Montmedy plans had to be rearranged and put off for many reasons. One being that one of the dauphin's attendants was a "strong democrat" who would have jeopardized the plan if she was there,and they were waiting for be away from the palace.

Although the book itself is not one I recommend for reasons anyone who reads my blog will already know, Farr's "I Love You Madly" has a good amount of the Fersen/Bouille/etc letters leading up to the flight which provide a decent look at Louis' choices in regards to rejecting the more, IMO, sensible proposals that were offered to him.

So to clarify my lil rant, it's not so much that Marie Antoinette came up with the smaller and multiple carriages, than it is that she was not the one who rejected it and she had no objections to it that we know about--it was Louis who ultimately rejected the idea.

[preet-01]

Couldn’t get this idea out of my head after being a political tv show binge. So we’ve got maxiel in a political au

For all the modernity and progress that the country claims one things remains true — the people don’t elect just a candidate, no they elect the entire family.

They don’t want some bachelor. It is not a sign of commitment to one’s career, but an indicator of a man that could think with his cock and have bastard children while at the highest level of public service. It is an indicator of a man that could bring ruin and shame to the most sacred position.

They want a family man. A man who is happily married with the perfect partner to bear his children. That is a sign of maturity and commitment. An indicator that he is settled.

And more so, it is an image that the people can project their own thoughts and beliefs onto. A family that can distract the public from the harsh realities of governing and politics.

It is not just politics and connections that get you elected, but also the perfect family that the people can fall in love with.

Max Verstappen fits all the qualifications for a great candidate — the perfect candidate even. Except for one tiny little thing in his opinion, but a major hurdle according to his campaign manager, Sebastian.

Max Verstappen is about as single as they come. With two cats he adores more than anything and no partner, Max does not apparently have the makings of a winning candidate.

“So just because I am not married, I cannot become president?” Max questions. His actual presidential run is still a few years away, but the framework needs to be laid out years ahead.

The presidency is all that Max has ever wanted. Every moment in his life is meant to culminate towards that. And now one tiny little detail about his life could prevent it.

“Essentially yes. Voters want someone they can love. A bachelor is not easy to love, but a family? Well that is very easy to love and root for,” Sebastian says. “But… should you not want to find a partner… on your own… there are avenues we can take,” he says, carefully picking his words.

“How?” his dad asks.

“We’re in the nation’s capital. There is no shortage of people well aware of and willing to commit to a political marriage that could be beneficial for both parties involved,” Sebastian replies, giving his dad a knowing look.

“Of course, and you have a short list?” his dad questions.

“There is a list and it is quite short,” Sebastian replies vaguely.

____

The list is two people.

A man and woman — both brunette, older, and carriers. His dad suggests the woman, he’d known her father years ago. Sebastian suggests the man.

“Daniel is… well loved in the wealthy circles in this part of the country. Personable with everyone, not just the wealthy.”

“Then we go with Daniel,” Max agrees. Sebastian hadn’t led him wrong so far in his career and he doubted that the man would ruin it all as they neared a presidential run.

Sebastian’s team makes their story. As it turns out, they have quite a few mutual friends. It’s easy to make up a story of one of them introducing them and a secret romance blooming away from Max’s political career and Daniel’s preferred social circles.

Just a week before their first public appearance as a couple, Max meets Daniel for the first time. And Daniel is… well he understands why Sebastian would suggest him.

Daniel is like something come out of Max’s deepest fantasies.

“The future president, huh?” Daniel questions.

“It’s going to be a big commitment,” Sebastian says.

“I’ll play the part, as long as my conditions are met,” Daniel tells them.

“Conditions?” Max inquires.

“We hyphenate names. This will be my legacy as much as it is yours. There are certain policy issues on which I would like a say, Seb knows. I will not become some political breeding machine. We have three kids maximum and they have to be at least 2-3 years apart. And when you make it to the presidency, I will not stand for any cheating/sex scandal. Keep it private if you must, but the moment it makes national news, I’ll be gone with any kids we have in tow and telling everyone how you wronged me,” Daniel answers.

They’re not the most unreasonable conditions, but Max does have his concerns about the second and fourth conditions. “I will ensure that those are followed,” Sebastian answers before Max can say anything.

“Perfect, now I have to go. The ambassador from Monaco is visiting,” Daniel tells them, getting up from the sofa he had been sitting on. “Seb, do come to dinner. I’m sure the ambassador would love to pick at your brain again, amongst other things,” he adds.

“Should we not practice being the loving couple for next week?” Max asks.

“Oh darling, there’s no need,” Daniel replies, giving him a sleazy grin as his eyes trail over Max. “I’ll be the adoring partner that everyone expects of a senator hoping to run for president. You’re easy on the eyes. Now toodles poodles, can’t keep Sharlie waiting at the airport lest he run off in some strangers car again,” Daniel is gone within seconds. Leaving Max alone with Sebastian and a hundred questions about his husband to be.