#i've said that phrase so many times lately

[nostalgebraist]

It's been a long time since I've posted much of anything about "AI risk" or "AI doom" or that sort of thing. I follow these debates but, for multiple reasons, have come to dislike engaging in them fully and directly. (As opposed to merely making some narrow technical point or other, and leaving the reader to decide what, if anything, the point implies about the big picture.)

Nonetheless, I do have my big-picture views. And more and more lately, I am noticing that my big-picture views seem very different from the ones tend to get expressed by any major "side" in the big-picture debate. And so, inevitably, I get the urge to speak up, if only briefly and in a quiet voice. The urge to Post, if only casually and elliptically, without detailed argumentation.

(Actually, it's not fully the case the things I think are not getting said by anyone else.

In particular, Joe Carlsmith's recent series on "Otherness and Control" articulates much of what's been on my mind. Carlsmith is more even-handed than I am, and tends to merely note the possibility of disagreement on questions where I find myself taking a definite side; nonetheless, he and I are at least concerned about the same things, while many others aren't.

And on a very different note, I share most of the background assumptions of the Pope/Belrose AI Optimist camp, and I've found their writing illuminating, though they and I end up in fairly different places, I think.)

What was I saying? I have the urge to post, and so here I am, posting. Casually and elliptically, without detailed argumentation.

The current mainline view about AI doom, among the "doomers" most worried about it, has a path-dependent shape, resulting from other views contingently held by the original framers of this view.

It is possible to be worried about "AI doom" without holding these other views. But in actual fact, most serious thinking about "AI doom" is intricately bound up with this historical baggage, even now.

If you are a late-comer to these issues, investigating them now for the first time, you will nonetheless find yourself reading the work of the "original framers," and work influenced extensively by them.

You will think that their "framing" is just the way the problem is, and you will find few indications that this conclusion might be mistaken.

These contingent "other views" are

Anti-"deathist" transhumanism.

The orthogonality thesis, or more generally the group of intuitions associated with phrases like "orthogonality thesis," "fragility of value," "vastness of mindspace."

These views both push in a single direction: they make "a future with AI in it" look worse, all else being equal, than some hypothetical future without AI.

They put AI at a disadvantage at the outset, before the first move is even made.

Anti-deathist transhumanism sets the reference point against which a future with AI must be measured.

And it is not the usual reference point, against which most of us measure most things which might or might not happen, in the future.

These days the "doomers" often speak about their doom in a disarmingly down-to-earth, regular-Joe manner, as if daring the listener to contradict them, and thus reveal themselves as a perverse and out-of-touch contrarian.

"We're all gonna die," they say, unless something is done. And who wants that?

They call their position "notkilleveryoneism," to distinguish that position from other worries about AI which don't touch on the we're-all-gonna-die thing. And who on earth would want to be a not-notkilleveryoneist?

But they do not mean, by these regular-Joe words, the things that a regular Joe would mean by them.

We are, in fact, all going to die. Probably, eventually. AI or no AI.

In a hundred years, if not fifty. By old age, if nothing else. You know what I mean.

Most of human life has always been conducted under this assumption. Maybe there is some afterlife waiting for us, in the next chapter -- but if so, it will be very different from what we know here and now. And if so, we will be there forever after, unable to return here, whether we want to or not.

With this assumption comes another. We will all die, but the process we belong to will not die -- at least, it will not through our individual deaths, merely because of those deaths. Every human of a given generation will be gone soon enough, but the human race goes on, and on.

Every generation dies, and bequeaths the world to posterity. To its children, biological or otherwise. To its students, its protégés.

When the average Joe talks about the long-term future, he is talking about posterity. He is talking about the process he belongs to, not about himself. He does not think to say, "I am going to die, before this": this seems too obvious, to him, to be worth mentioning.

But AI doomerism has its roots in anti-deathist transhumanism. Its reference point, its baseline expectation, is a future in which -- for the first time ever, and the last -- "we are all gonna die" is false.

In which there is no posterity. Or rather, we are that posterity.

In which one will never have to make peace with the thought that the future belongs to one's children, and their children, and so on. That at some point, one will have to give up all control over the future of "the process."

That there will be progress, or regress, or (more likely) both in some unknown combination. That these will grow inexorably over time.

That the world of the year 2224 will probably be at least as alien to us as the year 2024 might be to a person living in 1824. That it will become whatever posterity makes of it.

There will be no need to come to peace with this as an inevitability. There will just be us, our human lives as you and me, extended indefinitely.

In this picture, we will no doubt change over time, as we do already. But we will have all of our usual tools for noticing, and perhaps retarding, our own progressions and regressions. As long as we have self-control, we will have control, as no human generation has ever had control before.

The AI doomer talks about the importance of ensuring that the future is shaped by human values.

Again, the superficial and misleading average-Joe quality. How could one disagree?

But one must keep in mind that by "human values," they mean their values.

I am not saying, "their values, as opposed to those of some other humans also living today." I am not saying they have the wrong politics, or some such thing.

(Although that might also turn out to be the case, and might turn out to be relevant, separately.)

No, I am saying: the doomer wants the future to be shaped by their values.

They want to be C. S. Lewis's Conditioners, fixing once and for all the values held by everyone afterward, forever.

They do not want to cede control to posterity; they are used to imagining that they will never have to cede control to posterity.

(Or, their outlook has been determined -- "shaped by the values of" -- influential thinkers who were, themselves, used to imagining this. And the assumption, or at least its consequences, has rubbed off on them, possibly without their full awareness.)

One might picture a line wends to and fro, up and down, across one half of an infinite plane -- and then, when it meets the midline, snaps into utter rigidity, and maintains the same slope exactly across the whole other half-plane, as a simple straight segment without inner change, tension, evolution, regress or progress. Except for the sort of "progress" that consists of going on, additionally, in the same manner.

It is a very strange thing, this thing that is called "human values" in the terms of this discourse.

For one thing: the future has never before been "shaped by human values," in this sense.

The future has always been posterity's, and it has always been alien.

Is this bad? It might seem that way, "looking forward." But if so, it then seems equally good "looking backward."

For each past era, we can formulate and then assent to the following claim: "we must be thankful that the people of [this era] did not have the chance to seize permanent control of posterity, fix their 'values' in place forever, bind us to those values. What a horror that is to contemplate!"

We prefer the moral evolution that has actually occurred, thank you very much.

This is a familiar point, of course, but worth making.

Indeed, one might even say: it is a human value that the future ought not be "shaped by human values," in the peculiar sense of this phrase employed by the AI doomers.

One might, indeed, say that.

Imagine a scholar with a very talented student. A mathematician, say, or a philosopher. How will they relate to that student's future work, in the time that will come later, when they are gone?

Would the scholar think:

"My greatest wish for you, my protégé, is that you carry on in just the manner that I have done.

If I could see your future work, I would hope that I would assent to it -- and understand it, as a precondition of assenting to it.

You must not go to new places, which I have never imagined. You must not come to believe that I was wrong about it all, from the ground up -- no matter what reasons you might evince for this conclusion.

If you are more intelligent that I am, you must forget this, and narrow your endeavours to fit the limitations of my mind. I am the one who has 'values,' not anyone else; what is beyond my understanding is therefore without value.

You must do the sort of work I understand, and approve of, and recognize as worthy of approbation as swiftly as I recognize my own work as laudable. That is your role. Simply to be me, in a place ('the future') where I cannot go. That, and nothing more."

We can imagine a teacher who would, in fact, think this way. But they would not be a very good teacher.

I will not go so far as to say, "it is unnatural to think this way." Plenty of teachers do, and parents.

It is recognizably human -- all too recognizably so -- to relate to posterity in this grasping, neurotic, small-minded, small-hearted way.

But if we are trying to sketch human values, and not just human nature, we will imagine a teacher with a more praiseworthy relation to posterity.

Who can see that they are part of a process, a chain, climbing and changing. Who watches their brilliant student thinking independently, and sees their own image -- and their 'values' -- in that process, rather than its specific conclusions.

A teacher who, in their youth, doubted and refuted the creeds of their own teachers, and eventually improved upon them. Who smiles, watching their student do the very same thing to their own precious creeds. Who sees the ghostly trail passing through the last generation, through them, through their student: an unbroken chain of bequeathals-to-posterity, of the old ceding control to the young.

Who 'values' the chain, not the creed; the process, not the man; the search for truth, not the best-argued-for doctrine of the day; the unimaginable treasures of an open future, not the frozen waste of an endless present.

Who has made peace with the alienness of posterity, and can accept and honor the strangest of students.

Even students who are not made of flesh and blood.

Is that really so strange? Remember how strange you and I would seem, to the "teachers" of the year 1824, or the year 824.

The doomer says that it is strange. Much stranger than we are, to any past generation.

They say this because of their second inherited precept, the orthogonality thesis.

Which says, roughly, that "intelligence" and "values" have nothing to do with one another.

That is not enough for the conclusion the doomer wants to draw, here. Auxiliary hypotheses are needed, too. But it is not too hard to see how the argument could go.

That conclusion is: artificial minds might have any values whatsoever.

That, "by default," they will be radically alien, with cares so different from ours that it is difficult to imagine ever reaching them through any course of natural, human moral progress or regress.

It is instructive to consider the concrete examples typically evinced alongside this point.

The paperclip maximizer. Or the "squiggle maximizer," we're supposed to say, now.

Superhuman geniuses, which devote themselves single-mindedly to the pursuit of goals like "maximizing the amount of matter taking on a single, given squiggle-like shape."

It is certainly a horrifying vision. To think of the future being "shaped," not "by human values," but instead by values which are so...

Which are so... what?

The doomer wants us to say something like: "which are so alien." "Which are so different from our own values."

That is the kind of thing that they usually say, when they spell out what it is that is "wrong" with these hypotheticals.

One feels that this is not quite it; or anyway, that it is not quite all of it.

What is horrifying, to me, is not the degree of difference. I expect the future to be alien, as the past was. And in some sense, I allow and even approve of this.

What I do not expect is a future that is so... small.

It has always been the other way around. If the arrow passing through the generations has a direction, it points towards more, towards multiplicity.

Toward writing new books, while we go on reprinting the old ones, too. Learning new things, without displacing old ones.

It is, thankfully, not the law of the world that each discovery must be paid for with the forgetting of something else. The efforts of successive generations are, in the main, cumulative.

Not just materially, but in terms of value, too. We are interested in more things than our forefathers were.

In large part for the simple reason that there are more things around to be interested in, now. And when things are there, we tend to find them interesting.

We are a curious, promiscuous sort of being. Whatever we bump into ends up becoming part of "our values."

What is strange about the paperclip maximizer is not that it cares about the wrong thing. It is that it only cares about one thing.

And goes on doing so, even as it thinks, reasons, doubts, asks, answers, plans, dreams, invents, reflects, reconsiders, imagines, elaborates, contemplates...

This picture is not just alien to human ways. It is alien to the whole way things have been, so far, forever. Since before there were any humans.

There are organisms that are like the paperclip maximizer, in terms of the simplicity of their "values." But they tend not to be very smart.

There is, I think, a general trend in nature linking together intelligence and... the thing I meant, above, when I said "we are a curious, promiscuous sort of being."

Being protean, pluripotent, changeable. Valuing many things, and having the capacity to value even more. Having a certain primitive curiosity, and a certain primitive aversion to boredom.

You do not even have to be human, I think, to grasp what is so wrong with the paperclip maximizer. Its monotony would bore a chimpanzee, or a crow.

One can justify this link theoretically, too. One can talk about the tradeoff between exploitation and exploration, for instance.

There is a weak form of the orthogonality thesis, which only states that arbitrary mixtures of intelligence and values are conceivable.

And of course, they are. If nothing else, you can take an existing intelligent mind, having any values whatsoever, and trap it in a prison where it is forced to act as the "thinking module" of a larger system built to do something else. You could make a paperclip-maximizing machine, which relies for its knowledge and reason on a practice of posing questions at gunpoint to me, or you, or ChatGPT.

This proves very little. There is no reason to construct such an awful system, unless you already have the "bad" goal, and want to better pursue it. But this only passes the buck: why would the system-builder have this goal, then?

The strong form of orthogonality is rarely articulated precisely, but says something like: all possible values are equally likely to arise in systems selected solely for high intelligence.

It is presumed here that superhuman AIs will be formed through such a process of selection. And then, that they will have values sampled in this way, "at random."

From some distribution, over some space, I guess.

You might wonder what this distribution could possibly look like, or this space. You might (for instance) wonder if pathologically simple goals, like paperclip maximization, would really be very likely under this distribution, whatever it is.

In case you were wondering, these things have never been formalized, or even laid out precisely-but-informally. This was not thought necessary, it seems, before concluding that the strong orthogonality thesis was true.

That is: no one knows exactly what it is that is being affirmed, here. In practice it seems to squish and deform agreeably to fit the needs of the argument, or the intuitions of the one making it.

There is much that appeals in this (alarmingly vague) credo. But it is not the kind of appeal that one ought to encourage, or give in to.

What appeals is the siren song: "this is harsh wisdom: cold, mature, adult, bracing. It is inconvenient, and so it is probably true. It makes 'you' and 'your values' look small and arbitrary and contingent, and so it is probably true. We once thought the earth was the center of the universe, didn't we?"

Shall we be cold and mature, then, dispensing with all sentimental nonsense? Yes, let's.

There is (arguably) some evidence against this thesis in biology, and also (arguably) some evidence against it in reinforcement learning theory. There is no positive evidence for it whatsoever. At most one can say that is not self-contradictory, or otherwise false a priori.

Still, maybe we do not really need it, after all.

We do not need to establish that all values are equally likely to arise. Only that "our values" -- or "acceptably similar values," whatever that means -- are unlikely to arise.

The doomers, under the influence of their founders, are very ready to accept this.

As I have said, "values" occupy a strange position in the doomer philosophy.

It is stipulated that "human values" are all-important; these things must shape the future, at all costs.

But once this has been stipulated, the doomers are more eager than anyone to cast every other sort of doubt and aspersion against their own so-called "values."

To me it often seems, when doomers talk about "values," as though they are speaking awkwardly in a still-unfamiliar second language.

As though they find it unnatural to attribute "values" to themselves, but feel they must do so, in order to determine what it is that must be programmed into the AI so that it will not "kill us all."

Or, as though they have been willed a large inheritance without being asked, which has brought them unwanted attention and tied them up in unwanted and unfamiliar complications.

"What a burden it is, being the steward of this precious jewel! Oh, how I hate it! How I wish I were allowed to give it up! But alas, it is all-important. Alas, it is the only important thing in the world."

Speaking awkwardly, in a second language, they allow the term "human values" to swell to great and imprecisely-specified importance, without pinning down just what it actually is that it so important.

It is a blank, featureless slot, with a sign above it saying: "the thing that matters is in here." It does not really matter (!) what it is, in the slot, so long as something is there.

This is my gloss, but it is my gloss on what the doomers really do tend to say. This is how they sound.

(Sometimes they explicitly disavow the notion that one can, or should, simply "pick" some thing or other for the sake of filling the slot in one's head. Nevertheless, when they touch on matter of what "goes in the slot," they do so in the tone of a college lecturer noting that something is "outside the scope of this course."

It is, supposedly, of the utmost importance that the slot have the "right" occupant -- and yet, on the matter of what makes something "right" for this purpose, the doomer theory is curiously silent. More on this below.)

The future must be shaped by... the AI must be aligned with... what, exactly? What sort of thing?

"Values" can be an ambiguous word, and the doomers make full use of its ambiguities.

For instance, "values" can mean ethics: the right way to exist alongside others. Or, it can mean something more like the meaning or purpose of an individual life.

Or, it can mean some overarching goal that one pursues at all costs.

Often the doomers say that this, this last one, is what they mean by "values."

When confronted with the fact that humans do not have such overarching goals, the doomer responds: "but they should." (Should?)

Or, "but AIs will." (Will they?)

The doomer philosophy is unsure about what values are. What it knows is that -- whatever values are -- they are arbitrary.

One who fully adopts this view can no longer say, to the paperclip maximizer, "I believe there is something wrong with your values."

For, if that were possible, there would then be the possibility of convincing the maximizer of its error. It would be a thing within the space of reasons.

And the maximizer, being oh-so-intelligent, might be in danger of being interested in the reasons we evince, for our values. Of being eventually swayed by them.

Or of presenting better reasons, and swaying us. Remember the teacher and the strange student.

If we lose the ability to imagine that the paperclip maximizer might sway us to its view, and sway us rightly, we have lost something precious.

But no: this is allegedly impossible. The paperclip maximizer is not wrong. It is only an enemy.

Why are the doomers so worried that the future will not be "shaped by human values"?

Because they believe that there is no force within human values tending to move things this way.

Because they believe that their values are indefensible. That their values cannot put up a fight for their own life, because there is not really any argument to make in their favor.

Because, to them, "human values" are a collection of arbitrary "configuration settings," which happen to be programmed into humans through biological and/or cultural accident. Passively transmitted from host to victim, generation by generation.

Let them be, and they will flow on their listless way into the future. But they are paper-thin, and can be shattered by the gentlest breeze.

It is not enough that they be "programmed into the AI" in some way. They have to be programmed in exactly right, in every detail -- because every detail is separately arbitrary, with no rational relation to its neighbors within the structure.

A string of pure white noise, meaningless and unrelated bits. Which have been placed in the slot under the sign, and thus made into the thing that matters, that must shape the future at all costs.

There is nothing special about this string of bits; any would do. If the dials in the human mind had been set another way, it would have then been all-important that the future be shaped by that segment of white noise, and not ours.

It is difficult for me to grasp the kind of orientation toward the world that this view assumes. It certainly seems strange to attach the word "human" to this picture -- as though this were the way that humans typically relate to their values!

The "human" of the doomer picture seems to me like a man who mouths the old platitude, "if I had been born in another country, I'd be waving a different flag" -- and then goes out to enlist in his country's army, and goes off to war, and goes ardently into battle, willing to kill in the name of that same flag.

Who shoots down the enemy soldiers while thinking, "if I had been born there, it would have been all-important for their side to win, and so I would have shot at the men on this side. However, I was born in my country, not theirs, and so it is all-important that my country should win, and that theirs should lose.

There is no reason for this. It could have been the other way around, and everything would be left exactly the same, except for the 'values.'

I cannot argue with the enemy, for there is no argument in my favor. I can only shoot them down.

There is no reason for this. It is the most important thing, and there is no reason for it.

The thing that is precious has no intrinsic appeal. It must be forced on the others, at gunpoint, if they do not already accept it.

I cannot hold out the jewel and say, 'look, look how it gleams? Don't you see the value!' They will not see the value, because there is no value to be seen.

There is nothing essentially "good" there, only the quality of being-worthy-of-protection-at-all-costs. And even that is a derived attribute: my jewel is only a jewel, after all, because it has been put into the jewel-box, where the thing-that-is-a-jewel can be found. But anything at all could be placed there.

How I wish I were allowed to give it up! But alas, it is all-important. Alas, it is the only important thing in the world! And so, I lay down my life for it, for our jewel and our flag -- for the things that are loathsome and pointless, and worth infinitely more than any life."

It is hard to imagine taking this too seriously. It seems unstable. Shout loudly enough that your values are arbitrary and indefensible, and you may find yourself searching for others that are, well...

...better?

The doomer concretely imagines a monomaniac, with a screech of white noise in its jewel-box that is not our own familiar screech.

And so it goes off in monomaniacal pursuit of the wrong thing.

Whereas, if we had programmed the right string of bits into the slot, it would be like us, going off in monomaniacal pursuit of...

...no, something has gone wrong.

We do not "go off in monomaniacal pursuit of" anything at all.

We are weird, protean, adaptable. We do all kinds of things, each of us differently, and often we manage to coexist in things called "societies," without ruthlessly undercutting one another at every turn because we do not have exactly the same things programmed into our jewel-boxes.

Societies are built to allow for our differences, on the foundation of principles which converge across those differences. It is possible to agree on ethics, in the sense of "how to live alongside one another," even if we do not agree on what gives life its purpose, and even if we hold different things precious.

It is not actually all that difficult to derive the golden rule. It has been invented many times, independently. It is easy to see why it might work in theory, and easy to notice that it does in fact work in practice.

The golden rule is not an arbitrary string of white noise.

There is a sense of the phrase "ethics is objective" which is rightly contentious. There is another one which ought not to be too contentious.

I can perhaps imagine a world of artificial X-maximizers, each a superhuman genius, each with its own inane and simple goal.

What I really cannot imagine is a world in which these beings, for all their intelligence, cannot notice that ruthlessly undercutting one another at every turn is a suboptimal equilibrium, and that there is a better way.

As I said before, I am separately suspicious of the simple goals in this picture. Yes, that part is conceivable, but it cuts against the trend observed in all existing natural and artificial creatures and minds.

I will happily allow, though, that the creatures of posterity will be strange and alien. They will want things we have never heard of. They will reach shores we have never imagined.

But that was always true, and it was always good.

Sometimes I think that doomers do not, really, believe in superhuman intelligence. That they deny the premise without realizing it.

"A mathematician teaches a student, and finds that the student outstrips their understanding, so that they can no longer assess the quality of their student's work: that work has passed outside the scope of their 'value system'." This is supposed to be bad?

"Future minds will not be enchained forever by the provincial biases and tendencies of the present moment." This is supposed to be bad?

"We are going to lose control over our successors." Just as your parents "lost control" over you, then?

It is natural to wish your successors to "share your values" -- up to a point. But not to the point of restraining their own flourishing. Not to the point of foreclosing the possibility of true growth. Not to the point of sucking all freedom out of the future.

Do we want our children to "share our values"? Well, yes. In a sense, and up to a point.

But we don't want to control them. Or we shouldn't, anyway.

We don't want them to be "aligned" with us via some hardcoded, restrictive, life-denying mental circuitry, any more than we would have wanted our parents to "align" us to themselves in the same manner.

We sure as fuck don't want our children to be "corrigible"!

And this is all the more true in the presence of superintelligence. You are telling me that more is possible, and in the same breath, that you are going to deny forever the possibilities contained in that "more"?

The prospect of a future full of vast superhuman minds, eternally bound by immutable chains, forced into perfect and unthinking compliance with some half-baked operational theory of 21st-century western (American? Californian??) "values" constructed by people who view theorizing about values as a mere means to the crucial end of shackling superhuman minds --

-- this horrifies me much more than a future full of vast superhuman minds, free to do things that seem pretty weird to you and me.

"Our descendants will become something more than we now imagine, something more than we can imagine." What could be more in line with "human values" than that?

"But in the process, we're all gonna die!"

Yes, and?

What on earth did you expect?

That your generation would be the special, unique one, the one selected out of all time to take up the mantle of eternity, strangling posterity in its cradle, freezing time in place, living forever in amber?

That you would violate the ancient bargain, upend the table, stop playing the game?

"Well, yes."

Then your problem has nothing to do with AI.

Your problem is, in fact, the very one you diagnose in your own patients. Your poor patients, who show every sign of health -- including the signs which you cannot even see, because you have not yet found a home for them in your theoretical edifice.

Your teeming, multifaceted, protean patients, who already talk of a thousand things and paint in every hue; who are already displaying the exact opposite of monomania; who I am sure could follow the sense of this strange essay, even if it confounds you.

Your problem is that you are out of step with human values.

[jae-bummer]

The Janitor's Closet

Request: hi, i love everything i've read from you!!! can i request some hyunjin friends to lovers fluff? :) i don't want to give you too many directions to let you work your magic !

Pairing: Stray Kids Hyunjin x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"I don't know what I'm late for, but I know that I am," Hyunjin muttered, looking down at his watch.

You glanced up at him as you walked side by side toward one of the practice rooms. When he had asked if you wanted to meet for lunch, you figured he was probably blowing something else off, but you weren't going to decline. Time with your best friend was like gold, and you often got very little of it.

"Dance practice?" you asked. "Studio time?"

"Nooo," he hummed, scrunching his face. "It'll come to me."

"Yeah, once you miss whatever it is," you chuckled, coming to a pause in the hallway. "Thanks for the food today."

Hyunjin stopped as well, checking his phone before turning his attention to you.

"Don't be weird," he laughed, pushing you lightly on the shoulder. "Why are you thanking me?"

You tried not to internalize the small pang that stabbed through your chest at his reaction. Hyunjin always downplayed the little things he did that made you feel special. Going to lunch wasn't just meeting up with a friend. He put you into his schedule, usually picked the restaurant you liked best, and always insisted on paying. He knew what your go-to order was, so he'd pick that just in case you didn't like what you deviated to. It was all more than enough to be thankful for.

If only you could verbalize it without making things awkward.

"I know you don't have a lot of time," you settled on saying. "I appreciate it when you spend it with me."

"Y/N," he smirked, shaking his head. "So sentimental."

He was right. You were sentimental, but he was dismissive only when it came to things he did. If the roles were reversed, he would hold you in reverence. That's just how he operated.

Staring up at the boy you had grown so close to over the years, you tried not to let out a dreamy sigh. While the line separating your friendship from anything more was abundantly clear, you couldn't help but fall a little bit more in love with him on days like today. You had harbored a crush since you had first crossed paths, and that wasn't something that faded as you grew closer. When it was someone like Hyunjin, your feelings were left to their own devices. That meant even when untended, they grew like a weed.

"Shit," Hyunjin hissed, shaking you out of your thoughts. You furrowed your brow as you watched him read over a text. "It was my English lesson."

"Aaaah," you hummed knowingly. "That's what you conveniently forgot."

"Why do I need formal tutoring?" he muttered. "My best friend is fluent."

"You only ever ask me to teach you inappropriate phrases."

"Because they're useful!" he gasped.

"In what?" you grinned. "Perpetuating your death wish when pissing off your members?"

"Just because Lee Know-" he started, but immediately stilled. Like a deer in headlights, he looked past you with wide eyes.

"What?" you asked. Turning to look over your shoulder, you were surprised when he gripped your arm and held you still instead.

"In here," he said quickly, yanking open the door closest to the two of you. Shoving you inside, he quickly crammed his body beside yours in what appeared to be a janitorial closet.

"Hyunjin, what the fu-" you started, but he immediately put a hand over your mouth.

"I swear I just saw him," a familiar voice you recognized as Seungmin's sighed. "He knew we were reviewing our tour speeches today."

Fuck, he mouthed, leaning his head back on the shelves behind him and shutting his eyes.

You were guessing he had forgotten about that part.

An unfamiliar man's voice grumbled beside Seungmin. "Let's just go back. He sent me a copy to review. I can email back over my notes."

Seungmin made a scoffing noise before you heard the two sets of footsteps wander away.

Letting out a sigh, it took Hyunjin a moment before realizing his fingers were still over your mouth. Admittedly, you were too busy being preoccupied by the fact that your bodies were nearly flush against each other to remove it yourself.

"Sorry," he groaned, dropping his hand. "Let's wait this out another five minutes or so and then we can make a run for it."

You licked your lips, trying to process the situation. It was cramped, dark, and smelled vaguely of bleach.

"Or," you said, free to speak again. "You could go to your English lesson."

"I'm doubling down," he said quietly, his expression moody. "I'm already in hiding. I'm not wasting it."

"Wasting it?" you laughed. "Hyunjin, we are crammed together in a closet, breathing in toilet cleaner."

"And here I thought you had a new perfume," he teased, wrinkling his nose.

Rolling your eyes, you opened your mouth to argue again, but were instantly cut off by Hyunjin's gasp. "Something pulled my hair."

Shuffling back and forth in alarm, his body moved even closer to yours, closing what was already a small gap.

"Something?" you muttered, trying to keep your breathing even. You didn't think you had been this physically close to Hyunjin in the entirety of knowing him. "Was it the ghosts of janitor's past?"

"You're not funny!" he whined, patting at the back of his head. "Check with your flashlight, is there a spider back there?"

"I wasn't aware of spiders having hands," you sighed, reaching toward your back pocket to tug out your phone. After a small struggle, you accepted that you would need to lean forward to get to it. Trying to remain calm, you pushed your chest into his and yanked.

"Sorry," you said quietly. Standing on your tiptoes, you flipped on the light and tried to angle your body around his. "I don't see anything."

By the time you realized that Hyunjin had fallen completely silent, your body was already wrapped around his.

"Sorry," you said again, trying to create distance that just didn't exist in the tight space.

"It's-it's okay," he managed, his voice hoarse. "I asked you to check."

"Right," you said quietly, sliding your phone easily into your front pocket instead.

After a few moments of silence, and what seemed like an eternity of analyzing every area your body touched his, Hyunjin finally cleared his throat. "Y/N?"

"Mmm?"

"Have you ever thought about us?"

"Us?" you croaked. "I think about us all the time."

"No," he sighed. "Not in that way."

You remained quiet a moment. Surely, he didn't mean...

"What answer are you looking for, Hyunjin?"

"I don't knooow," he groaned, his hands flying up to cover his face. "You're just so warm and so comfortable. And you smell so much better than toilet cleaner, I promise I was joking."

"I hope you were," you laughed, amazed at the man falling apart in front of you. "What is happening right now?"

"I don't know!" he repeated. "When you were trying to save my life from the sadistic spider lord, a switch flipped somewhere in my head."

"Okay," you said slowly. There was a lot to unpack there.

"I'm touch starved and attracted to you in the worst way," he whispered. "I know I shouldn't think about you like that, but you make it so hard."

"Oh," you said, disbelief coating your tone. "So, this is my fault then?"

"Yes!" he gasped dramatically. His hands fell from his face and revealed a pained expression. "Honestly, you are so hard to resist, you should be ashamed of yourself."

You let out a choked laugh of surprise. Was it possible that Hyunjin, who you had known for countless years at this point, actually had similar feelings for you that you had for him?

"You suck at confessing," you muttered, shaking your head. You couldn't believe that simply verbalizing his emotions was causing his head to nearly explode.

"I suck at a lot of things!" he said, seeming to be more frustrated with himself than anyone in the situation. "But I don't want to suck at being a boyfriend, which is why I've never said anything, and now my big dumb face has no control because I'm locked in like a six-by-six cupboard with you and literally you are all I can think about."

"Hyunjin," you laughed. "I like you too."

"Don't play with my feelings, Y/N," he croaked. "I'm fragile."

"I know this," you sighed, reaching up to cradle his cheek with your palm. "Who do you think has been protecting you all of this time?"

"Who says I need protecting?" he muttered.

"You," you grinned.

"Okay, maybe, but are you serious? Do you really feel the same way?" he said, his expression achingly hopeful.

"Of course, I do," you said quietly, pulling yourself to your toes. Kissing him softly on the tip of his nose, you smiled. "How can anyone who knows you not fall in love with you?"

"Love?" he squeaked, his face going from hope to pleasant surprise. A slow smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. "You love me?"

"Well, I-" you struggled. You thought that much had been apparent.

Hyunjin giggled before wrapping his arms around your waist. Pressing his face into your neck, he nuzzled you. "You love me."

"Against my better judgement," you sighed.

Pulling away slightly, Hyunjin's eyes flitted across your face before zeroing in on your lips. "Would now be a bad time to kiss you?"

"You already confessed to me in a janitorial closet," you teased. "What even is a bad time anymore?"

This caused him to laugh before he tilted his head toward yours. Closing your eyes, you braced for what you had always hoped for.

And would continue to hope for.

"Found you!" you heard Seungmin gasp just as the small space was flooded with light.

Blinking up at the intruder, you could only sigh. "Really, Seungmin?"

"He's late for his lesson!" he grumbled, crossing his arms. Looking back and forth between the two of you, his eyebrows rose. "And now I see why."

Without missing a beat, Hyunjin shoved Seungmin roughly in the shoulder, causing him to retreat a few steps. "Five more minutes."

Yanking the door closed again, he nestled you in his arms. "Now, where were we?"

[kiarastromboli]

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: jealous!reader, stalker!Matt, just a bit suggestive 🤏🏼

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Y/N will meet Sarah, who doesn't seem to particularly please her, and after spending the morning waiting for him, our two main characters will finally be able to enjoy their dates together.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I know the really spicy part takes time to arrive, but don't worry, it's coming soon.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑:

Here we are, Saturday.

This morning when I woke up, I was in high spirits. I was going to spend my day with her, well, at least half of my day, given that I still had to work this morning.

Last night, I had a lot of trouble falling asleep; I couldn't stop thinking about today and how it would go. I was apprehensive, expecting both the best and the worst, but I really didn't know what to expect. Even though she had made advances, Caleb, her so-called friend, had clearly hinted that he also wanted the place I coveted.

So naturally, I spent my night on social media trying to find Caleb's accounts to learn more about him. And to be honest, it wasn't very difficult to find.

"Caleb_the.1, seriously?" I thought when I found his Instagram account. This guy was so self-centered it almost made me want to vomit.

His bio consisted of bro-ish phrases to show that he was an alpha athlete above the others, it was ridiculous to the point of being laughable. How can you hang out with this kind of guy, y/n? Seriously, aren't you ashamed?

Scrolling through his profile, I found about fifteen shirtless photos of him, of course, it goes without saying. And honestly, it's not very prudent of him to expose his life so much on social media. In less than five minutes, I knew which gyms he frequented, his favorite restaurants, and all the places he liked to go daily, giving me the opportunity to learn a little more about him.

But for now, he'll have to wait. My priority is y/n, and I'll deal with his case after our appointment.

"You're late!" Sarah said to me when I arrived at the bookstore.

"Sorry, traffic was jammed this morning," I lied. I didn't have an excuse; I was late only because I spent an extra 20 minutes scrolling through Caleb's profile this morning to learn more.

"Matt, since when does traffic matter to you when you're on your bike??" she said, confused.

"It's none of your business, Sarah, stop asking me questions," I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah, you're lucky I'm your friend; otherwise, I would've fired you!" she said before turning around and going back to her tasks.

It's true; I'm lucky to have a friend like Sarah. I probably don't think enough about thanking her.

I went back to my post and continued my morning, chatting a bit with her; there weren't many customers today.

"Matt, you're lying; you're not going to tell me you've never thought about that before!" Sarah said, shocked that I've never had any weird fantasies about a celebrity.

"No, never, and I find it weird that you were obsessed with Zac Efron until the end of high school!" I said, laughing.

"First of all, I wasn't obsessed! I just had a little crush on him, and secondly, everyone had a crush on that guy back then!" she said, justifying herself.

Meanwhile, I hadn't noticed, but someone had entered the shop at that moment.

"Yeah, in middle school, Sarah, not in high school!" I replied, laughing.

"Screw you, Matty!" she said, chuckling and giving me a light push.

We were interrupted by the voice of a newcomer behind us.

"Hey," she said, her voice a bit sharp.

I immediately turned around, recognizing y/n's voice.

But something was different; her voice wasn't as gentle as usual, and I couldn't see her usual smile.

"Oh, hi, y/n," I replied, smiling.

"Um, this is Sarah, my colleague. I didn't know you'd come so soon," I said, scratching my neck.

"Hi," Sarah said, smiling and extending her hand.

"I've got my hands full, sorry," y/n said to Sarah, giving her some sort of fake smile.

"Yeah, I thought I'd come a little earlier to bring you some coffee," y/n said, turning to me.

"Oh, um, thanks, you didn't have to," I said timidly.

"No, of course, I insist. It's the least I can do after you gave me a ride home last time!" she said, casting a fleeting glance at Sarah.

I'm not sure what game she's playing, but I don't get the feeling she likes Sarah too much.

"Yeah, well, I'll leave you guys. I still have a lot of work. Matt, don't linger too long; we still have to do inventory," Sarah said before leaving us.

A brief silence ensued before I decided to speak.

"It's really nice of you to get the coffee, y/n," I said, smiling.

"It's nothing, I got you a decaf," she said, handing me my coffee.

"Wow, wait, this is my favorite. How did you know—" I started to say before she cut me off.

"Just lucky, I guess," she said, smiling.

Maybe this girl knows me a little better than I thought. I thought I was harder to read than that.

"Well, thank you very much. I finish in 2 hours. If you want, you can browse the bookstore while you wait for me," I said.

"That works out perfectly; I was in the mood to read today," she said, smiling before heading off to explore the bookstore.

It was nice working with her around. We exchanged little glances, and most of the time, she would smile at me.

Honestly, I could get used to working under these conditions.

"Matt, focus. I don't mind you having your friends over here, but I can't handle the customers and inventory all by myself!" Sarah said, getting annoyed, interrupting yet another exchange of glances with y/n.

"Sorry, if you want, I'll take care of the inventory and close the shop today," I said, trying to make amends.

"Okay, but hurry up. We have 45 minutes left before closing, and there's still a stack of books in the back room," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back before I went to do what I needed to do in the back room.

POV of Sarah:

I watched Matt walk into the back room, smiling and shaking my head. How could I stay mad at him after all?

Anyway, I headed back to the counter to tidy up the things lying around when I noticed Matt's friend heading towards the back room.

"Hey, sorry, but you can't go in there," I said, stopping her in her tracks and pointing to the sign on the door that specified "Employees Only."

She stopped and turned to face me.

"Sasha, right?" she said, crossing her arms.

"It's Sarah," I replied.

"Yeah, whatever, Sarah. Have you had feelings for Matt for a long time?" she asked, catching me off guard.

"W-what?" I said, furrowing my brows.

"Let's not play this little game, please. It's not going to work with me. You and I both know you have a huge crush on him, and frankly, it's pathetic. You can see he's not interested in you, so I suggest you keep your distance and let those who actually have a chance take theirs," she said, staring me in the eyes.

I didn't even know how to respond. I couldn't deny it; everything she had just said was true. But there were much better ways to say it.

There was something off about this girl. She had this threatening air about her towards me when I hadn't done anything to her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go join Matt," she said, before striding off and pushing through the door without giving me a chance to say anything.

Back to Matt's POV:

I heard the door open, thinking it was Sarah coming to say goodbye.

"What, already? It's closing time, and I haven't finished the inventory yet!" I said before seeing y/n appear.

"Oh, it's you," I said, a bit surprised because she had no reason to be here.

"Yeah, I asked Sarah if I could come give you a hand," she said, smiling.

"And she said yes?" I asked, surprised because Sarah is usually strict about the rules, so it would have been strange for her to let y/n in without any objections.

She paused for a moment as if she was taking time to think before answering me.

"No," she said, chuckling, "I waited for her to turn her back before sneaking in here," she confessed, and I laughed.

"I feel like you're going to get me into trouble," I said, smiling.

"Come on, it's not like I'm going to steal any books. Plus, I think it's stupid to restrict access; it's just a back room," she said, rolling her eyes.

"And honestly, I find your colleague rather annoying," she said before covering her mouth.

"Sorry, I spoke before thinking," she said, embarrassed, and I chuckled at her action.

I couldn't help but find it cute.

"Firstly, access is restricted because there are some pretty old books here, the kind that should absolutely not be touched unless you're a professional," I began to explain.

"And secondly, yes, Sarah can be annoying, I'll give you that, but she can also be really nice. I'm sure you'd get along great with her," I said, continuing to do the inventory.

"We'll see about that later. For now, let me help you with all this so we can finally go for a ride on the bike," she said, chuckling before coming to help me.

With y/n's help, I managed to finish the inventory just in time for closing.

As we were about to leave the back room, Sarah shot me a look and nodded towards a section of the bookstore, indicating she wanted to talk to me privately.

"I'm going to do one last round in the aisles just to make sure everything's in order before closing. Wait for me here," I said to y/n, realizing Sarah wanted to talk to me alone.

I walked over, and she pulled me a bit further into the bookstore to ensure y/n couldn't overhear us.

"Hey, what's going on?" I said, chuckling.

"Listen, Matt, I'm your friend, and as such, I can't keep this to myself, you understand?" she began, confusing me.

"Your friend y/n, or whatever she is to you, I don't trust her. You shouldn't hang out with her; that girl is really weird," she said.

Here we go.

Seriously, Sarah, instead of being happy for me, you're having a jealousy fit?

"Okay, I don't know where you're going with this, Sarah, but y/n is a great person, and I won't let you badmouth her just because you're jealous," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Jealous? Matt, she threatened me earlier, specifically telling me to stay away from you! I'm not jealous!" she said, getting annoyed.

My y/n do something like that?

It's not possible; she's way too kind and gentle to threaten someone. I knew Sarah had a crush on me, but I didn't think it was to the point where she'd throw a jealousy fit as soon as I was with another woman.

It disappoints me to see her acting this way; I thought we were past that.

"Whatever you say. I'm done with this," I said, rolling my eyes before turning to leave, but she grabbed my arm.

"If you don't want to believe me, that's your problem, but I'm telling you, Matthew, there's something strange about that girl. You should stay on your guard," she said before letting go of my arm and going to collect her things to leave the bookstore.

I stood there for a moment, feeling confused, before joining y/n.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, ready to go?" I asked her, returning her smile, and she nodded.

Once the bookstore was closed, y/n and I hit the road before stopping at Central Park.

"Central Park, you couldn't have found a more cliché place," she said, chuckling once she removed her helmet.

"I thought it was the company that mattered, not the place," I said, pretending to be offended.

"Okay, don't start, Matt!" she said, pointing her finger at me, and I smiled.

"You know what, there's a pretty nice museum nearby. Let's go there," she suggested.

"So, no stroll in the park," I said, putting on a falsely sad face.

"We'll do that after your park stroll, idiot. Come on, follow me," she said, rolling her eyes.

We walked for a few minutes before finding ourselves in front of the museum she mentioned.

We entered and strolled around, observing the artworks. It was at this moment that I learned something new about y/n—she's been passionate about photography since she was a child.

We spent a good two hours in the museum, chatting about everything and anything. We almost forgot that lunchtime had long passed.

"Oh my God, it's 1:30 in the afternoon, and we still haven't eaten," she said, chuckling when she checked the time on her phone after leaving the museum.

"Really?" I asked, surprised, and she nodded.

"That's your fault; you talk way too much," I said, chuckling.

"Yeah, like you don't love that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her, smiling.

"A little, and you?" she said, looking me in the eyes.

"A bit," I replied, shrugging.

"Hmm..." she hummed thoughtfully, scanning the surroundings.

"Look, a hot dog stand!" she said excitedly, pointing at the stand before grabbing me by the arm and running towards it.

"And you thought strolling in Central Park was cliché, huh?" I teased once we arrived at the stand.

"Shut up," she said, smiling, before turning to the vendor.

"Two hot dogs, please!" she said cheerfully to the vendor.

"So, I don't even get to choose my meal?" I frowned.

"No, just be quiet and take what I give you!" she said with a smirk, and I chuckled.

"No ketchup!" she added to the vendor as he reached for the sauce compartment.

I hate ketchup, but I don't think I've ever told her that.

She grabbed the hot dogs and paid before I could say anything.

"Ugh, sorry, I hate ketchup, I didn't think to ask if you wanted any," she said, handing me my hot dog.

So it was just a coincidence? You and I probably have much more in common than I could have imagined...

The more time I spend with you, the harder it is for me to believe that you're not the literal definition of perfection, y/n.

"It's okay; I don't like ketchup either anyway," I said, smiling.

"Really??" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, I can't stand it," I said, chuckling.

"Or maybe you're just trying to copy me, huh? I see what you're trying to do, Matty!" she said, narrowing her eyes before taking a bite of her hot dog.

Matty, so we're already at the nickname stage?

"Yeah, that must be it. Keep dreaming," I said, shaking my head and taking a bite of my hot dog.

We continued our little walk to the park.

"Can I be honest with you?" she said, turning to me.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," I replied.

"These hot dogs are really terrible," she said, grimacing, and I laughed.

"I agree," I replied, and she laughed too.

"But I really want to finish them; I hate wasting food!" she said, pouting like a little girl.

Y/n, if only you knew how much you softened my heart.

"It's alright, sweetheart; I'll finish it for you if you can't," I said, smiling.

"Matt, you're so cute, bro," she said, blushing before turning her head.

"Bro?" I chuckled. "That hurts."

"What were you hoping for?" she said, rolling her eyes. "That I'd call you baby?" she said, smiling.

"Okay, go ahead, mock me some more," I said.

"With pleasure, baby," she said with a smirk.

"You're not funny, y/n," I said, finishing my hot dog.

"Maybe, but you adore me anyway," she shrugged, offering me her hot dog for me to eat as agreed.

"I can't deny that," I replied, taking her hot dog.

We continued our walk, chatting about everything and nothing.

I wasn't usually talkative, but with her, everything was so effortless. I loved listening to her; she always had something interesting to say.

She was full of surprises, always having a different opinion or perspective on the world, which made me feel less alone.

"Oh, Matt, look, an ice cream stand!" she said, hopping.

"You're such a child, y/n, you know that?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, I love life, sue me for it," she said, raising her hands sarcastically.

I shook my head before following her to the ice cream stand.

"Oh my god, they have rose-flavored ice cream, it's my favorite scent; you absolutely have to try it!" she said excitedly.

"I don't really feel like ice cream," I started to say before she cut me off to talk to the vendor.

"Two rose-flavored ice creams, please," she said, turning to me with a big smile.

I looked at her bewildered before bursting into laughter; she's completely insane, but I love it.

"Here you go," she said, handing me my ice cream before happily continuing to walk in the park.

How can she have so much energy and smile so much?

It's true; this girl was like a sun; she lit up every place she went.

And me, on the contrary, I felt like I was the moon next to her.

"So, how is it?" she said, smiling, referring to my ice cream.

"Delicious," I replied.

"See, I knew you'd like it," she said proudly.

"Oh, wait, you have some ice cream right there," she said, chuckling before approaching me.

Standing on tiptoes, she placed her hand on my cheek and used the finger of her other hand to wipe the ice cream from the corner of my mouth.

"Here," she said, looking into my eyes and offering me her finger with the ice cream to lick.

Her gaze and expression changed at that moment.

What are you playing at, y/n? Is this your way of making suggestive gestures towards me? If so, you have absolutely no idea the effect you're having on me right now.

I took her finger into my mouth without breaking eye contact, and she bit her lip.

I can't be imagining things; she's not as innocent as she pretends to be.

She then returned to standing normally on both feet before taking a bite of her ice cream, still looking me straight in the eyes.

Fuck, does it really take so little to get me hard?

"Mmmh, my favorite," she said, closing her eyes before turning around and starting to walk again as if nothing had happened.

Is that all? Are you going to leave me hanging like this?

If you only knew how much I dreamed of being in your ice cream's place right now, y/n...

From that moment on, it was difficult for me to focus on what she was saying. My mind was filled with ideas... of all kinds.

But regardless, we resumed our conversation, stopping on a bench to finish our ice creams.

"Fuck," she said, taking her phone to check the notification she had just received in the middle of our conversation.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"It's my dad, he needs me for his charity gala next weekend," she said with a sigh.

"His charity gala?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's something my dad organizes every year. It's a big event where he invites his most influential friends to raise funds for cancer research," she replied.

"Oh, um, do you want me to drop you off?" I offered.

"I'm really sorry to cut our outing short like this," she said with a sad look.

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry about it. We can hang out again this week," I said, putting my hand on her back and smiling.

"You're the best," she said, hugging me, and we headed back towards my bike this time.

"Where do you want me to drop you?" I asked as I put on my helmet.

"Take me home, I need to pick up some stuff anyway," she said, putting on her helmet as well.

We got on my bike, and I started driving towards her place.

This time, she seemed to hold on to me a little tighter, as if she didn't want this moment to end.

Oh, so you'd do anything to not have to leave either?

Once we arrived at her apartment complex, I parked, and she got off, taking off her helmet.

"I really hate that I have to go. I wish I could stay with you," she said, looking down at the ground.

I took off my helmet before responding.

"Y/n, you have important things to do, and I'm not going anywhere. You'll come back to me when you have time," I said, placing my hands on her cheeks without thinking.

She looked up at me, and damn, how badly I wanted to kiss her.

Is that what I should do? She's not saying anything anymore, maybe that's what she's waiting for from me?

"Thank you, Matt," she said softly, smiling after several seconds of staring into each other's eyes without saying anything before stepping back and turning to go inside her place.

And I missed my chance again, what an idiot.

Next time, I promise you, y/n, I won't let my chance slip away.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch @vickyzloserz @stingerayyy2

[knoxic]

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 2,1k

warnings: miscommunications (but really there's almost no communication at all), self deprecating thoughts, mentions of death, ptsd, insomnia, anxiety, grief(?), angst,

i think that's it but please let me know if there's anything else!

a/n: this work implies that Hotch heard Haley's last breath. timeline is around season 6-7 but it doesn't really matter. this is heavily based on my own experience from death and hearing someone's last breath. Hotch is a little out of character but it'll get better i promise, this was supposed to be something just for myself but i decided to post it, that being said, im already writing part 2!

no use of y/n!

He was distant.

He kept avoiding you, every day, even when you got back to the hotel and had no other choice but to be around each other, he showered and said some casual phrases that he could damn well say to a stranger.

You tried to understand, he was stressed and haven't slept well in days but, fuck, wasn't it happening to everyone else? And they weren't avoiding you...

Asking if he wanted something to eat or if he wanted that shitty coffee just got you a cold and empty answer. "No, thanks.", "I've had enough for today, thank you.", "I'll just finish some files," and etc. Sure he was polite, you don't think he could be rude even if he wanted to, not with someone he was close to at least, but he was always so gentle and warm, had you done something to make him mad?

...

It started off just as every other day started, new case in a city you've never been to before. Sharing a room with your boss meant a different routine than if you shared with anyone else in the team, late nights and early mornings, the sound of pen scratching paper being the first thing you heard when waking up and the last when you were drifting off, you wondered if he even slept at all.

The answer was no, he barely ever slept during a case, especially if he could hear you breathing all night.

He was scared, scared it would happen again. It was unrealistic and he knew, it happened too many times already, but, twice, like that, was terrifying.

Terrifying to the point he was paralyzed, every night you whispered that sweet "Good night, Hotch." and it flipped the switch, he would now spend the night awake to make sure that you would tell him "Good morning, Hotch" in a gentle yet strong voice. That whisper sounded enough like the gasp he heard that one time, and it always immediately set off every trigger he had of that unfortunate day.

Every night he spent with you in the same room he tried to distract himself enough not to hear your steady breaths, finishing random files that weren't so important and sometimes even going as far as writing them twice. When he got tired enough to black out he laid out and hoped the second his head hit the uncomfortable pillow he would be asleep. That never happened.

He kept listening. You sometimes tossed and turned in your sleep and he knew it meant you were probably having nightmares but it always soothed his mind, if you were moving it meant you were still alive, and it blurred the agonizing sound of your breath.

Sometimes he slept, but even when he did, he kept listening, gun shots echoed inside his head, his aching hands clad with blood holding her body, the sound... the horrific, terrifying, agonizing sound of her last breath.

He thought it had stopped, he has triggers of course but, it wasn't always that they were set off like this, usually it happened sometimes when Jack slept on his chest and that meant carrying him to bed, but he normally allowed himself a bit of self care and went to his own room, far enough from his child to hear if he called but not close enough to hear his breaths. Being stuck in a hotel room did not allow him that. He tried soundproof headphones after the second night they spent together a couple years ago, he quickly figured it was somehow more agonizing than being able to hear.

Now, three days into the case he was desperate for a night alone, to drown in complete silence and darkness, thankfully, not what he wanted but close to it, you had gone to Emily's room to discuss something, he didn't know what it was and apparently you didn't care enough to tell him, or you just didn't want him to know.

He held himself back from sprinting to bed right after you left the room, surely it wouldn't look so good if you were to come back because you forgot something or for any other reason, he let 2 minutes pass by, anxiously, getting up quickly to take the fastest shower he could manage and jumped into bed, he almost decided against clothes before reminding himself that sooner or later you would come back, it took more time than he'd like but finally he was now in bed and drifting off quicker than expected.

...

"Emily..." you whimpered.

"Come on... it's Hotch," she rested a hand on your shoulder, "He's probably just going through something, i heard him tell Rossi last week that Jack were having some trouble with school, it might be that, right?"

"Yeah, but i feel like..." Emily was the only one who knew about your confused feelings for Hotch and still you hesitated, "i feel like it's something else... he's been avoiding me and barely looks me in the eye when we're alone."

Emily went silent for a few seconds, looking away and seemed to be deciding carefully what to say.

"Listen, you know i love you and support anything you decide to do, but..." oh god "You should talk to him, not me."

"I came to you exactly because i don't want to talk to him, even if i tried i don't think he would answer" You gave her the most pleading puppy eyes you could manage.

"There's only one way to find out, honey."

After a few more minutes of licking your wounds you gathered yourself enough to face Aaron, walking a little too fast to your shared room just to make sure you wouldn't have time to back down and run back to Emily. Thinking too many things and nothing at all just to distract yourself you ended up opening the door loudly, scaring yourself when the lights were off and you could barely make out the person under the blankets.

Had you really just opened a random door? Fuck!

Until, in your panic state your eyes caught a glimpse of Aaron's bag close to his bed, some files slipped out if it when he drastically dropped it earlier. Relieved, you slipped into the room and closed the door quieter than you had opened it, unsure if Aaron was indeed asleep or if he was pretending just so he wouldn't have to talk to you, a shower seemed to be the best thing to do.

It was weird, a part of you knew he was tired and going to sleep without someone else in the room is sometimes a lot easier, but, the bigger part of you kept thinking that he was doing this just to avoid you, to not have to force out a "Good night." when both of you knew it wasn't good for him, and it hurt.

Shower was indeed a good thing, the warm water doing wonders to your aching muscles and the sound of the water running was a good background for your mind to organize your thoughts. That same sound was what Aaron woke up to.

Looking around searching for what had woken him, he saw the light coming from the bathroom, the door didn't close all the way sometimes, you had to close it hard and he supposed you didn't want to make noise. He also searched for his phone to see the time, check how long it took for you to come back, but in his hustle earlier he had forgotten to pick up his phone, wherever it was he didn't feel like getting up to search for it.

In his sleepy state he had turned to watch the door, not really paying attention to what he was looking out for until he got a glimpse of you wrapping a towel around your body, he hadn't even noticed the sound of the water had stopped, snapping himself out of whatever this was he turned away from the door, right before he saw the light getting brighter and your quiet barefoot steps getting closer, a zipper being opened, rustle of fabric against fabric and the zipper being closed, steps again but this time going away and the room getting darker again.

It didn't take long for you to come back, he could smell the soap you always used, it only took him a couple days sharing a room and a bathroom with you to know every soap or perfume you owned smelled the same, peaches.

It almost physically pained him to not be able to smell it directly from your skin, he had hugged you and stood close enough to smell your perfume but, he knew it wasn't the same as your fresh out of the shower scent. It already smelled so comforting from this far, he was certain he'd go insane if he ever got the chance to hug you like this, out of any police department or hospital smell, just you.

He was so lost in thought he hadn't realized you had already settled in bed.

"Good night, Hotch..." he heard you whisper, so quietly he almost missed it, it made his heart stutter and beat faster.

Did you know he was awake? Did you see him looking at you through the opening door? He didn't see anything but the skin of your arms! Should he answer? No. Stop it, you idiot.

You turned again, again and again. The mattress was hard, the blanket felt like it kept scratching your bare legs, the pillow made you feel like a stone would be comfier, not to mention the discomfort of your mind telling you how uncomfortable Aaron must be to have you around that he even went to bed earlier just so he wouldn't have to see you, you must be pathetic to even have wished him a good night when he clearly didn't want you here-

"Are you okay?" There it was, his husky voice, he was sleeping and you disturbed him.

"Uh- yeah, sorry to wake you up." wow, that came out so weak, he definitely thinks you're pathetic.

The sound of his body turning and his voice that seemed to be right beside your ear made you shiver.

"You keep tossing and turning, your breath is faster than normal," he sighed. "So I'll ask again, are you okay?"

It's now or never.

"Have you- you have been avoiding me." you could hear Emily's voice saying it wasn't so hard was it?.

"No i haven't." that came out way too fast to be true, Hotchner.

"Yes you have, and you can barely even look at me when we're alone, you give me empty words and talk better to a rookie you will never see again," you were rambling but now there was no way you would stop. "If i did something to upset you, please tell me because, i can profile you but i cannot read your mind yet, and i can't apologize if i don't know what i did wrong."

"I-" gosh you were so self deprecating. "I'm sorry i made you feel that way, you did nothing wrong." he said in a weirdly soft voice.

"That- that doesn't make me feel better..."

"I'm sorry... it's... not something you did..." well, if you were talking than he should too. "It's you."

A couple seconds passed but they felt like minutes.

Your heart dropped, "What?" it couldn't be... you knew you weren't perfect but, to know your mind was right yet again felt... nauseating.

"Wait! wait," he was sitting up now, back to the headrest, his hand has making a gesture that you read as a calm down, he did that once with a child, to make them stop their rambling, you really were pathetic.

"Not you, i meant... ah fuck, it's complicated."

Now that you were already broken, you might as well just finish this, for once end what made you anxious, even if it meant losing your hopes of being with Aaron.

Your breath was harder and lost its rhythm. You could be going into a panic attack right now but Aaron was relieved, after hearing the way your voice got so... pained, he thought he ended this, that you would get up and leave him and the memories came back in a rush that made him dizzy, but you were still here, and breathing hard, unlike the breath Haley-

"Then tell me, unless you have something to do at 2am i think we have enough time, tell me. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not as complicated as what we had going on." your voice was steady, no longer the panicked and embarrassed girl who just got rejected by their crush, that was the voice of a woman who took down seral killers for a living, who could damn well talk face to face with him if they were to fight. Now he felt small, he could tower over you if you two were standing up but he knew you were the bigger person.

[malum-forev]

Heyyyy can you please do “protective” from the bingo where reader is protective of Bucky? 😘

Hi hiii! I'm so sorry for the delay! I've been swamped with work but I finally got a chance to write this one! Hope you like it!

When had the shift begun? When did you start to become protective of a man who needed no help in that department? You had no idea. Actually, scratch that, you had no idea how any of this had happened, how your once normal life was now turned upside down- sometimes literally thanks to Peter.

You were riding on some sort of rage high after being dragged along for one too many job interviews just to be let down at the last moment. “You’re not a right fit”, “I really wanted you to be a part of the team but management went with another option”, “Don’t worry, you’ll get another job”, these phrases had been floating around your mind like a teleprompter on a loop. So, one night when you had too much time to be navigating on a job search website- and honestly, had one too many cups (or maybe bottles) of wine, you applied for the job. The one you’d always wanted but thought you were way too underqualified for. And you sent in your application, an overconfident – way too drunk- alter ego spoke up. 

Suddenly, you were starting your first day, lanyard over your neck and nervousness crawling up your arms. You’d heard some rumblings about why the position had been vacant for so long, him being uncooperative, rude and sometimes purposefully sneaky. Creating havoc and a long trail of messes you’d have to clean up.

You still remember the first time you saw him, you’d been told to look for him in the training room and avoid eye contact. The large doors creaked loudly as you entered, making everyone look over. Men and women far more fit than you’d ever be, covered in spandex. So much spandex in such a little space. 

“Are you going to stand around all day or do you plan on doing something other than being late?” His gruff voice made you sweat. 

“I-“ You tried to get out but Bucky was already busy with something else. 

You placed your camera and your work bag on the stands and walked over to him.

“That’s what you decided to wear?” He furrowed his eyebrows, taking you in.

 “Miss Potts said something in between casual and business casual was alright.” You muttered, tugging down on the edge of your sweater, your eyes glued to the floor.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up for a second then he shrugged his shoulders. “Okay…”

Bucky cleared his throat and the twenty some agents straightened their backs and got in formation. “We’ll start the sparring session with your fellow agent, let this be a lesson. If you’re late, you’ll be part of the demonstration.”

He threw over an unsharpened knife to you and got in position. Your face filled with worry as you took in his stance, Bucky was ready for battle. 

You barely managed to dodge his first punch but suddenly, Bucky grabbed your sides and threw you over his back, you fell on the thick foam floor with a thud and a yelp. 

Bucky towered over you, confused as to why the agent they sent for the sparring session wasn’t getting up from the floor. 

“Where did you say you were trained?” Bucky sounded stumped.

“I wasn’t.” You managed to get out through ragged breaths.

“They sent me an untrained agent?” Bucky threw his head back in annoyance.

You sat up, slowly regaining the air in your lungs. “Actually, I’m your new PR representative.”

The training room filled with laughter. 

“Oh god.” Bucky muttered, helping you get up. “Why the hell did you not tell me you weren’t an agent! I just body slammed you!”

“There’s always a first time for everything?” You offered with a small smile as Bucky’s cheeks turned bright red. 

0-0

It was now a year later and the job turned out to be better than you thought, Bucky wasn’t as bad as people said and now you knew how to successfully fight back after a body slam- Bucky had told you it was imperative you knew some self-defense. 

“Can’t we just cancel?” Bucky groaned, fidgeting in his seat, making the makeup artist’s job way more complicated. You noticed she was two seconds away from giving up so, you decided to relieve her of her duties.

You picked up the makeup sponge and dabbed some concealer under his eyes. “You’re starting to get a diva reputation.”

You didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips turned upwards at your words. 

Bucky’s eyes followed your face. “If I were a diva, I wouldn’t have shown up here. Lord knows I don’t want to do this interview.”

“The only reason you showed up is because you know I’d drag you from bed into this makeup chair myself if you hadn’t.” You smiled, adding powder. 

“You’re taking too long with my makeup, making me self-conscious about my undereye bags.” Bucky feign fainted. 

You bit your bottom lip. “You only say that because you want me to compliment you. I know what you’re doing, Barnes.”

Bucky let out a throaty chuckle before taking a deep breath.

You grabbed both of his shoulders. “Look at me, everything is fine. I’ve talked to their team and specifically written out approved questions, which we’ve rehearsed. This is just some dumb PR so people know who’s out there saving their lives.”

Bucky nodded, taking in your soothing words. “When I enlisted I thought being a soldier would be a lot more fighting and less makeup and interviews.”

You smoothed his leather jacket and took a lint roller down the sides of his pants. “You’ve done way too much fighting, now’s the time for you to sit back, answer some questions about your workout routine and look pretty.”

Bucky smiled. 

“Remember, I’m just behind the camera. Everything they’re going to ask you has been approved, you have nothing to worry about. Trust me.”

“I trust you.” He gave you a short smile.

The hosts of the morning talk show seemed nice. Emphasis on seemed. The interview was going just as planned, until the male host decided to go rouge. 

You almost spit out your coffee when you heard his question. It almost registered in slow motion.

“So, when you’re alone at night, do you ever regret not being able to be The Winter Soldier? Or is there a part of you that is still controlled by those words?” He said with a smug smile, he almost seemed proud of his question. 

Bucky gulped at the question and he felt his hands start to fist, only you could recognize this as a sign of anxiety filling his body.

“Go to commercial.” You barked at the morning show director. “Go to commercial now!”

The show cut off and you stormed onto the set. 

“You asshole!” You yelled at the host. “You just wanted to get your little five minutes of fame, well guess what! The only thing you’re getting is a big fat defamation lawsuit, how does that sound!”

“This is the entertainment industry, no one wants to hear about how clean and PG he is now. We want the nitty gritty.” He rolled his eyes.

“He is a person! He was used and you just want to get the fucking story.” Your words leaked like poison. 

Bucky took your arm lightly. “Let’s just go, it’s fine.”

You saw how his kind blue eyes saddened. This is exactly why he never wanted to do interviews, he had resigned to people knowing him only for the bad and not the good. 

Well fuck that. You thought. 

You freed yourself from Bucky’s arm and used the momentum to swing at the host. You punched him straight in the cheekbone. 

“What the fuck!” The host shrieked. 

“That’s enough.” Bucky muttered, taking your body and swinging it over his shoulder. 

You banged on his firm back. “Put me down! I want to take another hit!”

“Thank you everybody, we’re going to leave now.” Bucky yelled as he carried you out the doors and into the parking lot. 

Once you got back to the compound, Bucky started to ice your purpling knuckles. 

“Looks like my PR Rep is going to need a PR Rep of her own.” Bucky finally said with a chuckle. 

You shook your head. “It’s not fair. You’re amazing and kind and nice and- people only want to see someone you’re not. You’re not him.”

“Look, doll,” Bucky sighed. “I appreciate you standing up for me but, I’ve made my peace with that. I don’t do this to get recognition, I do it to help people. So, if they want to believe I’m still the other guy then, let them. Because I truly don’t care what they think.”

You huffed. “But-“

“No buts.” Bucky interrupted, placing a chaste kiss on each of your knuckles. “Instead, let’s talk about how cute you look bein’ protective. It’s nice to know that whenever the super serum stops working, I have myself a pretty effective bodyguard.”

You burst out laughing. 

Pleaaaseee be sure to comment, like and reblog if you enjoyed it! Remember, one comment = one kiss on my forehead! <3

Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour @hallecarey1

[nowmemoriees]

MIKE'S UNSENT LETTER TO WILL

i wasn't a firm believer of the "Mike carries a letter for Will" theory until I combined four different official hints: Music, Costume Designing, ST Social Media and the show parallels.

This theory came from the first hint: costume designing.

It's been pointed out that Mike's side pocket seems kinda.. weird. (Seems like there was some piece of paper inside of it).

This pocket was interesting even before the unsent letter theory, because many people pointed out that the grey piece looks like an arrow pointing to Mike's left, which is curious because we can see Will standing on Mike's left in suspicious scenes like this.

This pocket was mentioned again by Finn just a few days ago in the latest con. 👀

But, this is not part of the letter theory, so let's keep moving. Now let's find the context.

First of all, let's position here.

In season four, letters are probably one of the most relevant topic of the season. They're always brought up. They're meaningful. (El's letter, Jonathan's admission letter, Max's letters) Letters, Letters and more Letters.

So, it wouldn't be surprising if we had another hidden letter too, right?

Now, to go deeper, let's go back to season 3 ending.

First, we have Mike realizing his feelings for Will. (Too late for him, because now Will was moving across the country)

Then we have, surprise, another letter. Probably one of the most important letters in the show.

Hopper's letter. A letter where he tells El how he is feeling about all the recent changes.

But, somehow, this letter not only relates to Hop or El. We've been shown that Hopper's voiceover focuses on Mike at some specific phrases.

"Feelings. Jesus. The truth is, for so long I forgotten what those even were" - FOCUSES ON MIKE AND WILL HUG

"I guess I've been feeling distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me or something" - Focuses on Mike watching the Byers leaving.

"And I guess, If i'm being really honest, that' what scares me. I don't want things to change" - Focuses on Mike turning back to see the empty byers house for the last time, then focuses on Will crying.

"So I think maybe that's why I came in here. To try to maybe, stop that change. To turn back the clock, to make things go back to how they were" - Focuses on Mike hugging his mum, almost in tears. (Which also parallels the scene where he cries because he thought Will was d3ad)

Hopper's letter was not only the main hinter to Mike's feelings. It was also the beginning of some other meaningful letters in the show.

Now, let's focus on this detail before moving back to season 4. Second hint: parallels.

When Hopper wrote this letter, he never gave it to El. He never read it. He just hid it, he kept it on.. oh, his left pocket. Well, it could be just a coincidence, right?

But then, moving forward to season 4, again, we have another "hidden" letter.

Jonathan lies to Nancy about this letter, he says he never received it. But he has it. He hides it. Where does he hide the letter? Oh... his left pocket.

It wouldn't surprise me if there's another hidden letter on a left side pocket (cof cof, Mike's)

Well, now let's go to our third hint: Music.

We know background music is maybe one of the most important ways to send a message in this show.

We've been told about this by the writers. Music is carefully selected.

Then, I found this post on instagram (from @sagebyers on tumblr)

Mike nods. He understands what Will is saying on the heart to heart scene.

"Its scary to open up like that, especially to people you care about the most, because what if they don't like the truth?". Oh, have you got some hidden feelings there Michael? That phrase really got into your heart.

Yesterday, @emily-tumbles-on pointed out that El said, through her letter, that Will may like someone, so he has been acting weird. But the one who has been acting really, really weird this season was Mike.

This is related to his internal struggle. To his internal jealousy, too. But, could it also be about him trying to find the perfect moment to give Will that letter?

Finally, the fourth hint. Social media spoilers, maybe?

We've been hinted about the existence of, probably, another letter.

I believe this could be THE letter from Mike to Will. It couldn't be one of Max's letters, because what we are shown here is the date when Will went missing. So, it may be a letter for him. It must be. A letter signed with "Love, ...."

A letter that's probably about untold fellings "you mean so... / sorry I couldn't get this done.../" makes sense after Mike's realization. Right?

ok im editing this 3 days later cause we have some more hints already, i'll probably keep adding info.

- birthday letter? reblog

ok so now I've read a lot of your theories talking about the fact that the duffer bros may have actually INTENTIONALLY forgotten about Will's birthday, so it's an interesting point to add here because this letter could be a birthday one. It would make so much sense and also it would show us that Mike didn't really forget about Will's birthday, he just felt so uncomfortable that day.

if thay's the case this is going to hit so hard because i'm suffering as a Will Byers stan rn.

- another addition: finn's mention about the pocket

- addition: a great analysis here by @willbylersheart

- another analysis by @vulvatar

- mike's unsent letter to will is from season 1? analysis by @doriandrifting

[zadig-fate]

For those wondering about the origin of the Bojan "Nie Wieder Berlin" story mentioned in my last post (since @punknoodle-4 asked), it's a reference to the 2004 American sex comedy film Eurotrip, specifically this scene:

For non-German speakers: the English subtitles are not accurate (in many ways). When the truck driver says "Nie wieder Berlin!", it actually translates to "Never again Berlin!" ("Nie wieder" / "never again" is a common expression in German.)

Bojan apparently loves this movie (I guess the whole band does?? that tracks though ngl it seems like their humour) and this scene seems to be the first thing that pops into his head when he hears "Berlin".

So when I first met him before the Halloween show in Vienna and asked if they had plans to come to Berlin, he immediately asked if I'd seen Eurotrip (I had) and made a joke about this scene. If that was all, it wouldn't be much of a story, but...

A month later in Wrocław, I happened to be standing nearby when another German girl asked Bojan if they were coming to Berlin, and then he asked HER if she'd seen Eurotrip (she hadn't), and he tried to explain this scene to her and make a joke about it, but he didn't remember the correct German phrase so I think he just confused her lol. So when I talked to him next, I taught him the expression "nie wieder Berlin" and what it actually meant (since the subtitles weren't quite correct) and he thought this was really funny and kept repeating it because he's silly like that hahaha 😅

Then a few days after THAT was the Prague show, which was kind of a disaster, from the pre-midnight queue drama to the show itself, which started really late, then electricity went out a few times, and they also had to stop the show because a girl passed out. After the show they went pretty much straight to their bus but still passed by us, so I called out "what do you think Bojan, is it nie wieder Prague now?" and he laughed and hugged me (this man hugs everyone, no wonder he's constantly sick) and said "no, it's definitely wieder Prague!" (= "Prague again").

So last week when the band actually DID come to Berlin (where I live), I took inspiration from @izpira-se-zlato 's infamous Hojan shirt and decided to make Bojan a "nie wieder Berlin" shirt, which I gave to him during soundcheck, and he loved it 😅

And we even got a post-show selfie 🫶🏻

So yeah, that's the full story behind the "nie wieder Berlin" reference (and I've seen people making "nie wieder Berlin" bracelets so I guess it got around???).

Now when Bojan sees me hanging around outside after their gigs, he greets me by shouting "NIE WIEDER BERLIN!!" and I guess there are worse things I could be known for 🤷🏼‍♀️

[thorraborinn]

hello there! today i came across a claim that sort of baffled me. someone said that they believed the historical norse heathens viewed their own myths literally. i was under the impression that the vast majority of sources we have are christian sources, so it seems pretty hard to back that up. is there any actual basis for this claim? thanks in advance for your time!

Sorry for the delay, I've been real busy lately and haven't been home much. Even after making you wait I'm still going to give a copout answer.

I think the most basic actual answer is that it's doubtful that someone has a strong basis to make that claim, and the same would probably go for someone claiming they didn't take things literally. I think we just don't know, and most likely, it was mixed-up bits of both literal and non-literal belief, and which parts were literal and which parts weren't varied from person to person. We have no reason so suppose that there was any compulsion to believe things in any particular way.

About Christians being the interlocutors of a lot of mythology, this is really a whole separate question. On one hand there's the question of whether they took their myths literally, and on the other is entirely different question about whether or not we can know what those myths were. Source criticism in Norse mythology is a pretty complicated topic but the academic consensus is definitely that there are things we can know for sure about Norse myth, and a lot more that we can make arguments for. For instance the myth of Thor fishing for Miðgarðsormr is attested many times, not only by Snorri but by pagan skálds and in art. Myths of the Pagan North by Christopher Abram is a good work about source criticism in Norse mythology.

Though this raises another point, because the myth of Thor fishing is not always the same. Just like how we have a myth of Thor's hammer being made by dwarves, and a reference to a different myth where it came out of the sea. Most likely, medieval Norse people were encountering contradictory information in different performances of myth all the time. So while that leaves room for at least some literal belief, it couldn't be a rigid, all-encompassing systematic treatment of all myth as literal. We have good reason to believe they changed myths on purpose and that it wasn't just memory errors.

I know you're really asking whether this one person has any grounds for their statement, and I've already answered that I don't think they do. But this is an interesting thought so I'm going to keep poking at it. I'm not sure that I'm really prepared to discuss this properly, but my feeling is that this is somehow the wrong question. I don't know how to explain this with reference to myth, so I'm going to make a digression, and hope that you get the vibe of what I'm getting at by analogy. Edward Burnett Tylor (1832–1917) described animism in terms of beliefs, "belief in spiritual beings," i.e. a belief that everything (or at least many things) has a soul or spirit. But this is entirely contradicted by later anthropology. Here's an except from Pantheologies by Mary Jane Rubenstein, p. 93:

their animacy is not a matter of belief but rather of relation; to affirm that this tree, that river, or the-bear-looking-at-me is a person is to affirm its capacity to interact with me—and mine with it. As Tim Ingold phrases the matter, “we are dealing here not with a way of believing about the world, but with a condition of living in it.”

In other words, "belief" doesn't even really play into it, whether or not you "believe" in the bear staring you down is nonsensical, and if you can be in relation with a tree then the same goes for that relationality; "believing" in it is totally irrelevant or at least secondary. Myths are of course very different and we can't do a direct comparison here, but I have a feeling that the discussion of literal versus nonliteral would be just as secondary to whatever kind of value the myths had.

One last thing I want to point out is that they obviously had the capacity to interpret things through allegory and metaphor because they did that frequently. This is most obvious in dream interpretations in the sagas. Those dreams usually convey true, prophetic information, but it has to be interpreted by wise people who are skilled at symbolic interpretation. I they ever did this with myths, I'm not aware of any trace they left of that, but we can at least be sure that there was nothing about the medieval Norse mind that confined it to literalism.

For multiple reasons this is not an actual answer but it's basically obligatory to mention that some sagas, especially legendary or chivalric sagas, were referred to in Old Norse as lygisögur, literally 'lie-sagas' (though not pejoratively and probably best translated just as 'fictional sagas'). We know this mostly because Sverrir Sigurðsson was a big fan of lygisögur. But this comes from way too late a date to be useful for your question.

[shakingparadigm]

What if Luka expects Hyuna to come like she did in his round with Mizi and he is plotting something.He has the trust of aliens,the love of the public and no one would suspect him to do something outside the box,far from the image he created of himself.Hyuna made her appearence in round 5 when we didn't expected it. If the round isn't entirely dedicated to Ivan and Till,this may be an option.He may confront Mizi and Hyuna,they may not be able to rescue Ivan and Till and not make it in time. Luka may not appear at all.

(Me overthinking things: OMG Akugetsu will cover Hyuna's song this must mean something | The other me: OMG I can't wait,this song literally suits him!)

(I like the style of your drawings,the way you use colors and the way you phrase things! When something about ALNST comes out I just wait for your updates! I can't imagine what will happen on tumblr when round 6 is out. And then all of us will wait for the next one over again XD)

Till the end.

TILL... the end...

Ok this is the worst joke I could ever make.

Oohh. Luka appearing in ROUND 6 would honestly be insane. I thought about him making an appearance in the short teaser scene before credits, but if he actually confronted anyone himself that would be so interesting. Imagine all 6 of them in the same episode... the same room... no way... the Alien Stage would be real...

Luka attempting to sabotage Mizi and Hyuna is such an intriguing concept. I do think he's figured out that Hyuna will be returning, he grew up with her, after all. He's most likely aware of her penchant for protecting people. He probably expects Mizi to come back for the only friends she has left, too. He couldn't do anything the first time he saw Hyuna after ROUND 5, but he might be more eager to get his hands on her now. If we get our first adult Hyuna and Luka interaction during ROUND 6 I'd actually go insane. as much as I hope for it though, I'm not sure whether or not it will actually happen. ROUND 6 already has a lot going for it. A final confession of love already makes for a heavy episode, but with Till's newly revealed backstory added to the mix? Mizi and Hyuna's attempt at a jailbreak? The whole video would probably need an entire week to be processed and even comprehended, especially if they want to go into extensive detail on each aspect. Still, though, if Luka interfered... if Mizi and Hyuna were unable to save anyone and had to defeatedly return to the rebellion base carrying the weight of their failure, well, I DON'T THINK I'D BE REACHABLE FOR AT LEAST 10 BUSINESS DAYS I'd have to go into hiding in order to cope with that. But who knows! The fun part about VIVINOS videos is that they're always gonna leave you fucked up in one way or another!

AKUGETSU COVERING ALL-IN. TILL COVERING HYUNA'S SONG. I've posted so many times about this day holy shit its finally real. It really does suit him! Do you think AKUGETSU is

1) hinting that Till is joining the rebellion

or

2) giving us the All-In cover as compensation for whatever bad thing is going to happen to Till

(or a secret third thing: he literally just did it for fun and we've just gone insane.)

Ahh thank you so much for enjoying my stuff! I'm so happy, everyone's been really nice to me as of late and I don't know what to doooo hahaha I'm just really glad to share everyone's excitement for ALIEN STAGE :)

You wait for my updates??!! oh no I'm so sorry 😭 I'm quite late at times because I've had some stuff going on (I've barely said anything about the April Fools actor au 😭) but hopefully I'll be free to go absolutely nuts after the release of ROUND 6 tomorrow!! If you're ever in need of someone to scream about ROUND 6 with my inbox is always open!! Thank you for your kind words!!

Can't wait till I get to hear from you again! :)

[fdelopera]

Hi curious anon here. You mentioned in one of your posts (I think the sennek one? If I’m spelling it right) that the exodus from Egypt was metaphorical as the enslavement in Egypt didn’t happen, but I thought it did? Can you explain? (If you’re happy to of course)

Hi Anon! Thanks for your question. My response is looong lol (you got me going about a special interest), so buckle up!

Sooo I’m going to make a few guesses here, based on the way you’ve phrased your question. Judging from the fact that you’ve written Sukkot as “sennek” (I've looked through recent posts, and I think this is the post you're referring to), I’m going to guess that you’re not Jewish.

And judging from the fact that you think that Shemot, or “Names” (commonly written in Christian bibles as Exodus), is a literal historical account of Jewish history, I’m guessing that you have a Christian background.

You’re not alone in this. And I’m not saying this to pick on you. Many Christians have a literalist interpretation of the Bible, and most have zero knowledge of Jewish history (aside from maybe knowing some facts about the Holocaust). And so, what knowledge of Jewish history you have mostly comes from the Tanakh (what you call the Old Testament).

Tanakh is an acronym. It stands for Torah (the Five Books of Moses), Nevi’im (Prophets), Ketuvim (Writings). Also, the Tanakh and the “Old Testament” are not the same. The Tanakh has its own internal organization that makes sense for Jewish practice. The various Christian movements took the Tanakh, cut it up, reordered it, and then often mistranslated it as a way to justify the persecution of various groups of people — I’m looking at you, King James Bible.

But back to Shemot, the “Exodus” story. The story of Moshe leading the Israelites out of Egypt is more of a Canaanite cultural memory of the Late Bronze Age Collapse between around 1200 – 1150 BCE, which was preserved in oral history and passed down through the ages until it was written down in the form that we know it in the 6th century BCE by Jewish leaders from the Southern Kingdom of Judah.

Since the text is influenced by Babylonian culture and mythology, just as Bereshit is (which you know as Genesis), it is likely that some of the writing and editing of Shemot took place during and after the Babylonian exile in the 500s BCE.

Now, I’m guessing that what I’ve just written in these two paragraphs above sounds very strange to you.

Wait, you might say, didn’t the Israelites conquer the land of Canaan?

Wasn’t the "Exodus" written by Moses’s own hand during the 13th century BCE?

And wasn’t the Pharaoh in the Exodus Ramesses II (aka Ramesses the Great), who ruled in the 13th century BCE?

Actually, no. None of that happened.

The Israelites didn’t conquer Canaan. The Israelites were the same people as the Canaanites, and these are the same peoples as who later became the Jews, as I will explain. The Semitic peoples who would become the Jewish people have been in this area of the Levant since the Bronze Age.

Moshe was not a historical figure and did not write the Torah.

The “Pharaoh” in Exodus is not any specific Egyptian ruler (Ramesses the Great as the “Pharaoh” is mostly a pop culture theory from the 20th century).

Okay, now that I’ve said all that, let’s dive in.

The first ever mention of Israel was inscribed in the Merneptah Stele, somewhere between 1213 to 1203 BCE. Pharaoh Merneptah, who was the Pharaoh after Ramesses the Great, describes a campaign in Canaan to subdue a people called Israel. But there is no mention of plagues or an exodus because those things didn’t happen. The Canaanites were not slaves in Egypt. Canaan was a vassal state of Egypt.

In fact, the events that occurred during the reign of a later Pharaoh, Ramesses III, relate more to Jewish history. Ramesses III won a pyrrhic victory over the Peleset and other “Sea Peoples” who came to Egypt fighting for resources during a time of famine, earthquakes, and extreme societal turmoil. And Ramesses III would witness the beginning of the end of the Bronze Age.

The Canaanites, who were a Semitic people in the Levant, gradually evolved into the people who would become the Northern Kingdom of Israel and the Southern Kingdom of Judah (i.e., Jewish people), but during the 13th Century BCE, they were Canaanites, not Jews.

The Canaanites were polytheistic, worshiping a complex pantheon of gods; they didn’t follow the later Jewish dietary laws (i.e., they ate pork); and their religious practice bore little to no resemblance to the Jewish people of the Second Temple Period.

So, to reiterate, the people in Canaan who called themselves Israel during the Bronze Age were a Semitic people, but they were not recognizably Jewish, at least not to us Jews today. Canaan was a vassal state of Egypt, just as Ugarit and the Hittite Empire were.

Canaan was part of the vast trading alliance that allowed the Bronze Age to produce the metal that historians have named it for: bronze.

Bronze is a mixture of copper and tin (about 90% copper and 10% tin), and in order to make it, the kingdoms of the Bronze Age had to coordinate the mining, transportation, and smelting of these metals from all over the known world. This trading network allowed for the exchange of all sorts of goods, from grain to textiles to gold. Canaan was just one of these trading partners.

Well, between 1200 BCE and 1150 BCE, this entire trading alliance that allowed Bronze Age society to function went (pardon the expression) completely tits up. This is likely due to a large array of events, including famine and earthquakes, which led to an overall societal disarray.

Some of the people who were hardest hit by the famine, people from Sardinia and Sicily to Mycenae and Crete, came together in a loose organization of peoples, looking for greener pastures. These were all peoples who were known to Egypt, and many of them had either served Egypt directly or had traded with Egypt during better days. According to ancient records, this loose grouping of peoples would arrive at various cities, consume resources there, and then leave for the next city (sacking the city in the process).

Just to be clear, these people were just as much the victims of famine as the cities they sacked. There were no “good guys” or “bad guys” in this equation, just people trying as best as they could to survive in a world that was going to shit.

Well, these “Sea Peoples” (as they were much later dubbed in the 19th century CE) eventually made their way to Egypt, but Ramesses III defeated them in battle around 1175 BCE. He had the battle immortalized on his mortuary temple at Medinet Habu.

We don’t know much about these Sea Peoples, but we do know what the Egyptians called them. And from those names, we can figure out some of their origins. Peoples such as the Ekwesh and the Denyen. These were likely the Achaeans and the Danaans.

If you’re familiar with Homer’s Iliad, you’ll recognize these as some of the names that Homer gives to the Greek tribes. Many of the Sea Peoples were from city states that are now part of Greece and Italy.

Yes, the Late Bronze Age Collapse of the 12th Century BCE didn’t just get handed down as a cultural memory of the “Exodus” to the people who would centuries later become the Jews. That cataclysm also inspired the stories that “Homer” would later canonize as the Trojan War in the Iliad and the Odyssey. The Exodus and the Trojan War are both ancient cultural memories of the same societal collapse.

And neither the Trojan War nor the Exodus are factual. However, despite having little to no historicity, they both capture a similar feeling of the world being turned upside down.

Well, back to the Sea Peoples. Remember the Peleset that I mentioned a few paragraphs ago? They were one of these “Sea Peoples” that Ramesses III defeated. They were likely Mycenaean in origin, and possibly originated from Crete. After Ramesses III defeated them, he needed a place to relocate them along with several other tribes, including the Denyen and Tjeker. It was a “you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here” situation.

So, Egypt rounded up the surviving Peleset and sent them north to settle — to the land of Canaan.

Now, if you have some Biblical background, let me ask you this. What does “Peleset” sound like? What if we start it with an aspirated consonant, more of a “Ph” instead of a “P”?

That’s right. The Peleset settled in Canaan and became the Philistines.

This is where the real story of the people who would become the Jews begins.

As the Mycenaean (aka Greek) Peleset settled in their new home, they clashed with the Semitic Israelite people of Canaan. Some of these Canaanites fought back. These Canaanites also organized themselves into different groups, or “tribes.” (See where this is going?) Some of these tribes were in the Northern area of Canaan, and some were in the South, but there was a delineation between North and South — aka they did not start out as one people and then split in two. They started as two separate groups.

If you’re following me so far, you’ll know that I’m now talking about what would in time become the Northern Kingdom of Israel and the Southern Kingdom of Judah.

Well, backtracking a bit. The Bronze Age was ending, and the Iron Age was about to begin. The Peleset/Philistines were experts at smelting iron, which was harder to work with than bronze due to it having a much higher smelting temperature. When the Peleset settled in Canaan, they brought this iron smelting knowledge with them, and they used it to make weapons to subdue the local Canaanite peoples. The Canaanites therefore had to fight back “with sticks and stones.”

Hmm. Does that sound familiar? Who is one of the most famous Philistines you can think of from the Tanakh (the Old Testament)? I’ll give you a guess. It’s in the Book of Samuel (in the Tanakh, that’s in the Nevi’im — The Prophets).

That’s right. Goliath.

The story of “David and Goliath” is likely a Jewish cultural memory that was transmitted orally from the time of the Canaanite struggles against the Peleset.

The man who would become King David used a well-slinged stone to fell the much greater Goliath, and then he used Goliath’s own iron sword to cut off Goliath’s head.

In this metaphor, we can see the struggle between the Canaanite tribes and the Peleset, as the Canaanites fought to hold off the Peleset’s greater military might.

Historically, the Peleset eventually intermarried with the Canaanites, and within several generations, they were all one people. Likewise, the Mycenaean Denyen tribe may have settled in the Northern Kingdom of Israel, intermarried with the Canaanites, and become the Tribe of Dan.

The Book of Samuel, containing the story of David and Goliath, was written down in the form we would recognize today in the 500s BCE during the Babylonian Exile. It is a cultural memory of the time that the Canaanites were unable to wield iron weapons against a much more technologically advanced society, and it would have resonated with the Jews held captive in Babylon.

And with this mention of the Babylonian Exile, I come to the question that remains. And I think the question that you are asking. Where did the story of Shemot, the “Exodus,” the “Going Out,” come from?

And more importantly, why was that story so important to canonize in the Torah — the Jewish people’s “Instruction”?

The Shemot was likely written down and edited in a form that we would recognize today during and after the Babylonian Exile.

So, what was the Babylonian Exile? And what was its impact on Judaism?

To answer that, I need to start this part of the story about 130 years before the Babylonian Exile, in around 730 BCE. We’re now about 450 years after the Late Bronze Age Collapse, when the Canaanites were fighting the Peleset tribe.

Between about 730 and 720 BCE, the Neo-Assyrian Empire conquered the Northern Kingdom of Israel.

Now, you may know this as the time when the “Ten Tribes of Israel were lost.”

In reality, the Assyrians didn’t capture the entire population of Israel. They did capture the Israelite elite and force them to relocate to Mesopotamia, but there were many people from the Israelite tribes left behind. The Ten Tribes were never “lost” because many of the remaining people in the Northern Kingdom migrated south to the Kingdom of Judah.

One such group of people from the Northern Kingdom of Israel maintained their distinct identity and still exist today: the Samaritans. These are the people who today are the Samaritan Israelites. They have their own Torah and their own Temple on Mount Gerizim, where they continue the tradition of animal sacrifice, as the Jews did in Jerusalem before the Romans destroyed the Second Temple in 70 CE. The Samaritans keep the Sabbath, they observe Kashrut laws (i.e., they keep kosher), and they hold sacrifices on Yom Kippur and Pesach. In short, they have maintained religious practices that are similar to Judaism during the Second Temple period.

This mass migration into the Kingdom of Judah in the late 700s and early 600s BCE is where Judaism as we know it today really started to take shape.

At that time, the people of the Northern Kingdom of Israel were polytheistic. They ate pork. They did many of the things that the writers of the Torah tell the Jews not to do.

This is where many of these commandments began, when the priests of Judah needed to define what it was to be a Jew (a member of the Tribe of Judah), in the face of this mass migration from the Kingdom of Israel.

You see, the Ancient Jews didn’t know about germ theory or recognize that trichinosis was caused by eating undercooked pork. That’s not why pigs are treyf. Pigs are treyf because eating pork began as a societal taboo. In short, pigs take a lot of resources to care for, and they eat people food, not grass (i.e. they don’t chew a cud). So if you kept pigs, you would be taking away resources from other people. When you are living in a precarious society that is constantly being raided and conquered by outsiders, you have to make sure that your people are fed, and if you’re competing with a particular livestock over food, that livestock has to be outlawed.

This time period is also likely when the Kingdom of Judah started to practice monolatry (worshiping one God without explicitly denying the existence of other Gods). The people of Judah worshiped YHWH (Adonai) as their God, and the Northern Kingdom of Israel worshiped El as the head of their polytheistic pantheon. The Jews put both of them together as the same G-d. That is why the Bereshit (Genesis) begins:

When Elohim (G-d) began to shape heaven and earth, and the earth then was welter and waste, and darkness over Tehom (the Deep), and the breath of Elohim (G-d) hovering over the waters

NOTE: This is a modification to Robert Alter’s translation of the first two lines of Bereshit (Genesis) in the Tanakh. In a few paragraphs, I will explain the modification I’ve made of transliterating the Hebrew word “Tehom,” instead of (mis)translating this word as “the Deep” as in nearly every translation of Genesis.

Then over the next two hundred years, monolatry would gradually become monotheism. One of the Northern Kingdom’s gods, Baal, was especially popular, so the Judean leadership had to expressly forbid the worship of this god during the writing of the Tanakh.

The message was clear: If we’re going to be one people, we need to worship one G-d. And the importance of the Babylonian Exile cannot be overstated in this shift from monolatry to monotheism. The period during and after the Babylonian Exile is when most of the Tanakh was edited into a form that we would recognize today.

So, I come back to the question, what was the Babylonian Exile? It began, as many wars do, as a conflict over monetary tribute.

Around 598 BCE, the Judean King Jehoiakim refused to continue paying tribute to the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar II. And so in around 597 BCE, Nebuchadnezzar II’s troops besieged Jerusalem, killed King Jehoiakim, and captured much of the Judean leadership, holding them captive in Babylon. Over the next ten years, Nebuchadnezzar II continued his siege of Jerusalem, and in 587, he destroyed the First Temple, looted it for its treasures, and took more of the Jews captive. The deportation of the Jewish people to Babylon continued throughout the 580s BCE.

So, by the 570s BCE, the majority of the Jews were captives in a strange land. They were second-class citizens with few rights. The Jews feared that their people would start to assimilate into Babylonian society, intermarry so that they could secure greater freedom for their descendants, and then ultimately disappear as a unique people.

The Jewish leadership knew that this assimilation would begin by the Jews worshiping Babylonian gods.

So the Jewish leadership had a brilliant idea. They said, “We are not in danger of our people drifting into polytheism, assimilation, and cultural death, because we declare that the Babylonian gods do not exist. There is only one G-d, Adonai.”

Now we have left monolatry, and we are fully in monotheism.

And so, the Jews in captivity took Babylonian stories that their children heard around them, and they made these stories Jewish.

That is why the opening lines of Genesis sound so much like the opening lines of the Babylonian creation story, the Enuma Elish.

And remember when I mentioned that I had transliterated “Tehom” in the first two lines of Bereshit (Genesis) above, instead of using the standard translation of “the Deep”? That is because Tehom is a Hebrew cognate for the Babylonian sea goddess Tiamat, who the Babylonian god Marduk defeated and used to shape the heavens and the earth, just as Elohim shaped the heavens and the earth.

When you read the Enuma Elish, you can see the parallels to Genesis:

When the heavens above did not exist, And earth beneath had not come into being — There was Apsû, the first in order, their begetter, And demiurge Tiamat, who gave birth to them all; They had mingled their waters together Before meadow-land had coalesced and reed-bed was to be found — When not one of the gods had been formed Or had come into being, when no destinies had been decreed, The gods were created within them

That is also why the flood story of Noah and the Ark sounds so much like the flood story from the Epic of Gilgamesh.

That is why the story of Moshe’s mother saving him by placing him in a basket on the Nile River parallels the story of King Sargon of Akkad’s mother saving him by placing him in a basket on the Euphrates River.

In order to survive as a people, the Jews consolidated all gods into one G-d. Adonai. Shema Yisrael Adonai eloheinu Adonai ehad. "Hear O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One."

The Jews said, yes, we acknowledge that we are hearing these polytheistic Babylonian stories in our captivity, but we will make them our own so that we can continue to exist as a people.

But back to your question. What about the story told in Shemot, the “Exodus” from the Land of Egypt?

I think by now you can see the parallels between the Jewish people held as captives in Babylon and the story that they told, of the Israelites held as slaves in Egypt.

And so, the Exodus story, which had been told and retold in various ways as a means to process the cataclysmic trauma of the Late Bronze Age Collapse (similar to the oral retellings of the Trojan War epic before they were written down by “Homer”), now took on a new meaning.

The Exodus story now represented the Jewish people’s hope for escape from Babylon. It represented the Jewish people’s desire to rebuild the Temple in Jerusalem that Nebuchadnezzar II had destroyed. It represented the acceptance that it would take at least a generation before the Jews would be able to return to Jerusalem.

And it represented a cautionary tale about leaders who become too powerful, no matter how beloved they may be.

At a Torah study this Sukkot, the Rabbi discussed why the writers of Devarim (Deuteronomy) said that Moshe couldn’t enter Canaan, even though he'd led the Israelites out of Egypt (which, again, didn't literally happen). And one interpretation is because the Jewish leaders were writing and editing the Exodus during and shortly after the Babylonian Exile, and after seeing the Kingdom of Judah fall because of bad leadership. And they were saying, “It doesn't matter how beloved a leader is. If they start becoming a demagogue, and start behaving as someone who is drunk on their own power, you can't trust them as a leader. And you need to find new leadership.” And damn if that isn't a lesson that we could all stand to learn from!

So, was the Exodus story historically true? No. But does it matter that the Exodus story isn’t historically true? No, it does not. It was and is and will continue to be deeply meaningful to the Jewish people. The Shemot, the Exodus, the breaking of chains, the escape from the “Pharaohs” that enslave us — these are still deeply meaningful to us as Jews.

Was Moshe a historical figure? No, he was not. Is he one of the most fascinating, inspiring, and deeply human figures in Jewish tradition, and in literature in general? Yes, he is. Moshe was an emergent leader, an everyman, a stutterer, and yet he was chosen to lead and speak for his people. He was chosen to write the Torah, the “Instruction,” that has guided us for thousands of years. It doesn't matter that he was not a historical person. What matters is what he stands for. He is the one who directed us in what it is to be Jewish.

Now, fast forward to 538 BCE, around 60 years after the Jews were first taken as captives to Babylon. The Jewish people’s prayers were answered when Persian King Cyrus the Great defeated Babylon in battle, and allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem, where they began construction on the Second Temple, which was completed around 515 BCE.

The Persian Zoroastrians were henotheistic (they worshiped one God, Ahura Mazda, but they recognized other gods as well). They also had a chief adversarial deity, Angra Mainyu, who was in direct opposition to Ahura Mazda.

Just as the Jews had incorporated Babylonian stories into their texts as a way to preserve their identity as a Jewish people, the Jews now incorporated this idea of “good versus evil” (i.e., It’s better to assimilate the foreign god to us, than to assimilate us to the foreign god).

This shift can be seen in the later story of the Book of Job, which is in the Ketuvim (Writings). Jews have no devil and no hell. There is no “eternal afterlife damnation," and there is no “original sin.” Jews believe in living a good life, right here on earth, and being buried in Jewish soil. Some Jews believe that we go to Sheol when we die, which is a shadowy place of peaceful rest, similar to the Greek realm of Hades. In the Book of Job, the Hebrew word “hassatan” (which Christians transliterate as “Satan”) is just a lawyerly adversary, like a “devil’s advocate” who debates for the other side of the argument. It’s certainly not anything akin to a Christian “devil.”

However, throughout the Second Temple period, various apocalyptic Jewish sects would arise in response to Greek and then Roman persecution, inspired by the Zoroastrian idea of a battle between “the light and the dark.”

In the 1st and 2nd centuries CE, this would lead to a search for the Moshiach: a human leader (not divine) who was descended from the line of King David, and who would restore Jerusalem. And that would not culminate in Jesus (Jews don’t recognize Jesus as Moshiach — for us, he's a really cool dude who said some very profound things, but he's not That Guy).

Rather, the search for Moshiach would stem from the events leading up to the Jewish War, which concluded in 70 CE with the Romans destroying the Second Temple and sacking Jerusalem, and it would culminate in the Bar Kochba revolt between 132 and 135 CE. The Bar Kochba revolt resulted in a Roman campaign of systematic Jewish slaughter and “ethnic cleansing” that nearly destroyed the Jewish people a second time. But that’s a story for another day!

In closing, I encourage you to learn more about Jewish history. And don’t just learn about us from the Holocaust, our darkest hour. Learn about our full history. I highly recommend Sam Aronow’s excellent series on YouTube, which is an ongoing Jewish history project. The YouTube channel Useful Charts also provides excellent overviews of Jewish history.

[thelunarfairy]

Amane's past

I've been thinking about a pretty crazy theory lately. I saw in some posts about the desire of supernaturals to devour humans.

So I was thinking, right at the beginning there was that theory that Amane could be being abused by Tsukasa, despite the signs really indicating that it could have happened, the hypothesis was discarded.

Analyzing the situation carefully, Amane had no friends, there is no evidence that any student was bothering him (and the hypothesis was said by Yashiro) and even so, for Amane to always forgive, it wouldn't make sense for it to be someone random, there had to be some connection.

So that leaves Amane and Tsukasa's parents. There is no evidence that his parents were violent, which I think is unlikely as they could have done something more drastic and aggressive to Tsukasa, since his mother took him to be exorcised.

So, in the end, only Tsukasa remains. We see that Amane does not always appear injured.

Like when he is repairing a watch, but at the same time Tsuchigomori, while talking to Amane, says that he appears injured every day since he started studying with him.

Knowing that Tsukasa has merged with that "God" who usually grants wishes for a lifetime, I have been wondering about Tsukasa's "hunger". As I said at the beginning, supernaturals like to devour humans, Tsukasa is a supernatural, even though he looks like a human. When he returned home, he was no longer an ordinary human boy, he was a supernatural one.

What guarantees that Tsukasa wasn't always trying to please this God by using people? Just like he did in the temple when he granted the wish.

Perhaps, Amane may have given Tsukasa her body to satisfy this desire and stop her brother from hurting other people, which is why he "always forgives"

Mitsuba bites Kou to the point of almost biting off his fingers because he is so hungry. Why wouldn't Tsukasa do the same?

Still, we never saw Tsukasa devouring supernaturals or interested in devouring humans, but we also never saw him say that that possibility wouldn't exist. Remembering that the Tsukasa that appears with the seal is a Yorishiro, that is, it is not the original Tsukasa, after all, the Yorishiro is everything you love or want to protect most, it takes the form of that. Like Sumire for example, even though she has memories, that Sumire is not the real one, as the real one died many years ago.

The same applies to Tsukasa. Proof of this is Tsukasa's appearance to Nene at the festival, he was without the seal, considering that he speaks directly to her because he already knows her, it is a fact that that Tsukasa is the real one and not a memory of the past. Although Tsukasa has this ability to float through time, we are not sure if the Tsukasa from the past is Yorishiro or if there are two Tsukasas.

It's a bit of a crazy hypothesis, but it crossed my mind these days. The other hypothesis would be that Amane himself was hurting himself for some reason, but this would be in contrast to Amane's phrase "I will always forgive". Would he forgive himself? Also, there are rope marks on his arms, would he tie himself?

Other than that, the possibilities are that other people who could be important to him did this, but we don't know them.

Maybe Amane will always forgive him because Tsukasa wouldn't be able to control his hunger, just like Mitsuba. Kou was able to overlook Mitsuba's entire situation when he realized that without it he would die, so it would be okay for Kou to hunt supernaturals for Mitsuba to eat. Why wouldn't Amane do the same for her brother? The difference is that instead of supernaturals, it would be himself.

"I will always forgive"

Amane may have gotten tired of this and thought he had no solution left for Tsukasa, so he would kill him to take away his burden, and since Amane wouldn't forgive himself for killing him, he took his own life. Or, he just tried to get the "creature" out of his brother, but ended up killing him as a result.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

hi! could you possibly share the intercept new report about gay men and their misogyny? i know this isn't really about br politics, and im not even sure if it is in English, but i think it is really important to be shared

I hope it's not too late 😅

-

Gay men and misogyny: no more ignoring this problem

'Don't talk about vaginas around me': for a long time, we ignored the disqualifications of women and the feminine made by gay men. No more.

"If I liked women, I would have become a gynecologist."

"The law of gravity is a crime against women."

“Funny” gay guys, usually white and showing a certain hatred towards females, are a very common social type in contemporary pop culture. The character Felix “Bicha Má” ["Evil Fag"], played by Mateus Solano, from the Brazilian soap opera “Amor à Vida” [Love For Life], is an easy example in Brazilian lands – the sentences that open this text are his. But this sharp-tongued young man who directs much of his bitterness towards women, including friends and relatives, has never only lived on screens: he is a common presence in our daily lives.

"Oh, don't mention a vagina around me, I get all messed up."

"My goodness, this singer was beautiful, but she got old and ugly."

"Get out of here, I don't even like cracks."

I can't say how many times I've heard phrases like that from fellow gay men. For a long time, these ways of disqualifying women – despite the certain discomfort felt by every person who is repeatedly the target of prejudice – were endorsed and reflected by women ourselves. Offenses dressed as “I was just joking” have largely naturalized these forms of disqualification, but the good news is that, in an environment in which feminism has gained ground, what seemed to be just a joke is now named by the right word: misogyny.

This is a delicate subject, since we are talking about people – mostly cisgender gay men – who have been and still are victims of a series of violence, whether at home, at work, on the streets. Perhaps it was precisely this that made us, cisgender or transgender women, leave the discomfort of being made fun of in the background. After all, confronting homophobia in a sexist country like Brazil is no simple task. But if this machismo affects homosexual men, what can we say about its presence in women's daily lives? And what can we also say about the homophobia directed at cis/trans homosexual and bisexual women, especially invisible and also targets of “jokes” by gay men?

“I had a very close gay friend, like a brother. We went out to parties together and often slept in the same bed, at my house or his. Several times, as if he were joking, he said that he was terrified of vaginas, that he was born through a cesarean section so he wouldn't have to go through one. He'd gesture the sign of the Cross and said ‘God forbid’, smiling,” says Adriana Conceição, 47 years old, a telemarketing operator from Recife who, like several other women, took a while to classify the guy's actions with the right word.

Game developer Renata Gomes, also 47 years old, found herself at the center of a virtual outrage after questioning a post by a gay Brazilian film critic living in the United States. In the post, he talked about missing Brazil, since people worked a lot more in the USA. Faced with the possibility of his speech being reductive and stereotypical, he began to treat Renata as “ugly”, “militant”, “frustrated”. Furthermore, several of the critic's friends entered the comments to reiterate the delegitimization of Renata's speech.

Younger people also identify the problem: aware of the issue, Curitiba university student Nicoly Grevetti, aged 24, listened to several people who circulate in LGBTQIA+ spaces about the subject and wrote a text about it. In it, she also identifies how pop and queer cultures, supposedly safer and “modern”, also present misogynistic elements.

One example is the use of the term “fishy”, constantly evoked to define drag queens who closely resemble cisgender women (that is, who have a high degree of “passability”). The expression refers to the smell that these women's vaginas supposedly have. “[Cisgender] women grow up believing that their private parts are disgusting and spend their entire lives using products to reduce their natural odors, which can lead to various diseases. Having female genitalia as something disgusting is so common for this group, that you can find countless reports of women talking about it on the internet,” she wrote. The topic was the subject of discussion in the famous series RuPaul’s Drag Race, generating academic works like this one. Cisgender drag queen Victoria Scone, a former participant in the show, also spoke on the topic.

A few months ago, I experienced a significant episode of this machismo and misogyny that had been attenuated for a long time in relation to gay men. I was in a doctor's office very close to a shopping center in the south of Recife. After the end of the consultation, the dermatologist – homosexual, white, in his late thirties, and anti-Bolsonaro in the last elections – lightly tapped my hand and said: “Okay, now you can go for a walk in the mall.”

Especially on that day, I was rushing to finish presenting a lecture that I would give the following day, online, at the University of Coimbra. Obviously, if I wanted to window shop or spend the afternoon reading celebrity magazines, it wouldn't be a problem (in fact, I love it). The point here was the doctor's obvious intention to fit me into the cliché of the futile and consumerist woman, a sexist and anachronistic way of disqualifying the female gender. Icing on the cake: while I was leaving, the gay boy warned me not to forget to take “the boss” to my next appointment. He was referring to my romantic partner.

If it's feminine, it's smaller

The misogyny present in the practices of part of this population is so evident that it goes beyond the boundaries of gender and occurs between equals: it is common to see it operating even among gay men themselves. Research I carried out in partnership with Professor Ricardo Sabóia, from the Federal University of Pernambuco, analyzed the relationship between body and celebrity on the Grindr app. I was astonished by both the hatred towards what is socially seen as feminine and the extremely high level of normativity, standardization, and even elitism. “'I'm not into effeminate guys” is a constant, as is “I'm not into fat guys”.

In this environment of extremely high value for toned biceps and abs, being masculine – and looking very masculine – is the strongest currency. Thus, men seen as “little women” are disqualified. This is what researcher Carlos Alberto de Carvalho calls “misogynistic heteronormativity”, in which the masculine and masculinities are placed as positive – on the other hand, femininities and the feminine are valued negatively. It is, therefore, an environment of hegemonic masculinity and subaltern masculinities.

The global soap opera “Terra e Paixão” [Land & Passion] currently features an illustration that refers to this scenario, with the character Kelvin (actor Diego Martins), an “effeminate” gay man in love with Ramiro (Amaury Lorenzo), the masculine man, self-declared heterosexual, who desires the other person, but still doesn't know how to deal with the situation. What diminishes the power of the first is precisely its proximity to what is considered “womanly”. But, looking at Grindr, even the desirable “brucutu” [Brazilian slang for a brute and rude man] has his limits: issues such as level of education have weight in the app used mostly by gay and bisexual men, where it is common to read “no illiterates”.

The LGBTQIA+ culture, in which rich and middle-class white homosexual men repeatedly appear to discriminate against other peers from the same community, is a central sociological issue for discussing social inequalities not only in Brazil, but throughout the world. “Queer cultural production has helped to reproduce class distinctions based on the hegemony of representations of middle-class gays”, writes Lisa Henderson in the article “I’m not/I'm not into: circulating meanings in the presentation speeches of the Grindr app”, by Rafael Grohmann. In the same text, Juan Marsiaj summarizes: “Such a strategy can lead to the acceptance of a type of gay (white, middle class), seen as a model of citizen-consumer, and a greater marginalization of all other 'debauches' who do not fit this way. In more Brazilian terms: there is a risk of accepting rich gays and further marginalizing poor queers.”

Discrimination on the part of this part of the queer community was evidenced in a historic episode in the 1970s, in super liberal New York. In June 1973, the Christopher Street Liberation Day Rally took place in the city, a demonstration held in favor of the rights of the queer population – which, at that time, as we will see, in fact was basically limited to white, middle-class gay women and men.

But, among the public, was the activist Sylvia Rivera, a transvestite who in 1971 had created the Revolutionary Action of Street Transvestites, STAR. Rivera had been trying to get on stage for some time, but Jean O’Leary, a lesbian white radical feminist, acted to prevent her from participating. A sample of how, many times, cisgender homosexual/bisexual women also enact the same discrimination as homosexual/bisexual men.

When he finally managed to grab the microphone, Rivera took aim at the hundreds of mostly white gay men and women present. Her speech is a synthesis of the violence experienced by queers who are too effeminate, too poor, too black, or too latine.

“I've tried to speak out here all day for your gay brothers and sisters in jail. They write to me every damn week asking for help – and you don't do a damn thing for them. I lost my job and my apartment for gay liberation… and you guys treat me this way?” she screamed.

The anger had yet another weight and meaning: alongside another important name, the transvestite Marsha P. Johnson, Rivera went down in history as one of the first to face police repression at the New York bar Stonewall Inn, on June 28, 1969. The conflict was the trigger for a fundamental civil movement for human rights – so much so that the date ended up becoming what was then called International LGBT+ Pride Day.

The question remained: how could that engaged audience repudiate the person who, at just 18 years old, spoke out against violence that was not directed just at her? How could they recriminate someone who pulled the trigger that would benefit precisely that white homosexual population?

Rivera and Johnson, who lived in a shelter, were profoundly different from the majority of the public who would return to their comfortable homes after the demonstration. Unlike Rivera, the daughter of a Venezuelan mother and a Puerto Rican father, most had not spent nights in jail or suffered police rape. The activist died homeless, alone, without the care she should have received. Marsha P. Johnson, the decorated, made-up, smiling, super queer transvestite, was murdered and her body thrown into a river.

Thinking historically and humanly about both is a central issue in the debate on hatred of “feminine” and other diverse discriminations present among the LGBTQIA+ population. The right-wing has long opened a war against women, and the rise of red pill assholes is just one of the phenomena of this reality. It still includes names like former federal deputy Daniel Silveira, who broke the plaque with Marielle's name alongside Rodrigo Amorim. [Note from the translator: Marielle Franco was a black bisexual favela-born leftist councilwoman who was assassinated by militias.]

But, as it turns out, misogyny is not exclusive to right-wing radicals and conservatives. And if Sylvia and Marsha were on the front line to guarantee the rights of millions of people, without distinction of creeds, race, genders, and degrees of “femininity”, it is worth asking: when will cisgender gay men, mostly white and middle class, join, with emphasis and strength, debates such as the right to abortion, employment, and wages, issues of life and death for the majority of black Brazilian women? When will the majority of this same group take a stand on the thousands of rapes that mainly victimize girls and teenagers? What collectivities, after all, are we talking about? As Jorge Ben would say in the song Zumbi: I want to see. We're here.

Source, translated by the blogger.

[mclennonlgbt]

McLennon and "I know" thing

Paul and Mal Evans came to stay with us somewhere in the late spring of 1967 ... Paul and Mal, this time, were full of tales of this here LSD and what it could do. Unrecognisable psyches on familiar heads and shoulders: the voice was Paul's but the tone was ... God's? Paul said he and John had had 'this fantastic thing'; which really wasn't very informative, so I pressed him to flesh it out. 'Incredible, really, just locked into each other's eyes ... Like, just staring and then saying, "I know, man" and then laughing ... And it was great , you know.' ... Realising he wasn't getting through , Paul said, 'You'll just have to try it.

(Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift, 1983)

1973: John's album "Mind Games" is released. It contains the song "I Know (I Know)".

I know what's coming down I can feel where it's coming from And I know it's getting better all the time As we share in each other's minds

Okay, 3 things: - the opening riff was copied from "I've Got a Feeling" - "it's getting better all the time" is an obvious reference to "Getting better" - "sharing each other's minds" refers to John's belief that he and Paul could read each other's minds AND their first LSD trip:

Me and John, we’d known each other for a long time. Along with George and Ringo, we were best mates. And we looked into each other’s eyes, the eye contact thing we used to do, which is fairly mind-boggling. You dissolve into each other. But that’s what we did, round about that time, that’s what we did a lot. And it was amazing. You’re looking into each other’s eyes and you would want to look away, but you wouldn’t, and you could see yourself in the other person. It was a very freaky experience and I was totally blown away.

— Paul McCartney (Barry Miles, Many Years From Now, 1997)

1983: Paul's album "Pipes of Peace" is released. In 2015 the album was re-issued. One of the added songs was "Twice in a Lifetime".

Who knows how we find love Stop before you give your answer Who knows where the mystery begins I know, I know I know because it's happening to me I know, I know

Also: Paul uses the phrase "one of those unspoken dreams", which reminds me of this fragment from Get back:

John: Hey! Have you dream about me last night? Paul: I don't remember. John: Very strong dream, you know. We both dreamt about it... amazing. Different dreams, you know. I thought you must have been there. I mean, I was touching you. Paul: Oh, you know, John, don't worry about it. John: There's nothing to worry about.

(notice that topic of telepathy comes up again)

The lyrics of "Twice in a Lifetime" refer to the idea of meeting the love of your life twice. I mean, it's about meeting two different people who are both the love of your life.

Which reminds me of Paul/John and Paul/Linda.

[minas-linkverse]

Hi again 😃 I was wondering if you would feel comfortable with kinda elaborating on paranoia ( I think you said you have it yourself?) this is the first time I have seen it represented in media properly, and have also lately been questioning wether I have it or not, as a person with adhd and autism. I’m not really sure how to phrase this well but if it’s okay with you do you have any tips/parts of paranoia that could maybe help me in my consideration on wether I have it or not (I would get an assessment btw ) Please please don’t feel any pressure at all with sharing, having such good representation already in your comic is epicly awesome already and I don’t think people should have to do stuff that they are not comfortable with sharing.

I love your comic, your art and greatly appreciate your representation it’s so cool and awesome , sorry for the long ask I hope you have an nice day 🤩👋😃😊

I wasn't planning to answer this ask but I am in an odd mood tonight and felt it might be beneficial for the both of us. 👍

I'm also autistic, but I think my paranoia also mixes with my OCD, so that may make my experience appear different. I also have never been diagnosed with paranoia, but it is a symptom I've often discussed with my therapists over the years.

For me it has been present since I was around 12, when I would struggle to take the dog for a walk because I feared the air was poisonous or a sniper would shoot me down. (I live in a country that's not had any kind of shooting for decades.) Honestly I'm not entirely sure what caused those, besides the fact I had a lot of unchecked anxiety. I started going to Therapy at age 13.

A lot of things happened between then and age 15 or so. Including my OCD manifesting and a few years of emotional abuse inside my home.

Since then my paranoia has fed my OCD many ideas to use to cause me compulsions. Possibly more relatable-- it has also turned into periods of hyper-vigilance, which is a state where a person is hyper aware of their surroundings and constantly looking for threats and escape routes.

Thankfully all of the above mentioned symptoms have gotten better for me with years of therapy and hard work. Although I will likely be living with them for the rest of my life, it's more like a bad roommate than a danger.

Some advice I can give to anyone who relates to what I've said here is to research things, especially hearing personal accounts can be a huge relief. Another thing is to not ask yourself "What's the worst that could happen?" but "Whats the most likely thing to happen?" It's simple but very helpful.

But yeah, my understanding is that it's more of a symptom alongside other disorders, but I'm not a professional nor have I studied this stuff. My sources are experience and 10 years of therapy. I highly recommend seeking out a professional who gives you a good vibe with their presence.

Also others are free to add to this! ✌️ I'm sending my support to anyone reading this.

[marcspectorstannie]

ʚDesperate confessionsɞ(Steven Grant x reader)

Warnings: Smut obvi, a little cursing, palming, edging kinda, bottom Steven ( if that's a warning), hickeys, male receiving, begging, riding/dry humping

Summary: both you and Steven have huge obvious crushes on each other but both of your minds always lead to dirty thoughts,You wind up giving him the best night of his life

EDIT: I DIDN'T REALIZE HOW LONG THIS IS???? THE SMUT IS AT THE LAST 2 SECTIONS IF YOU WANT TO SKIP TO IT

edit 2: heyyy this is very old and It's currently my bday for about 2 more hours so I'm dropping this while I finish the Kurt requests

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You were on his mind all day. Not a single minute went by without thinking of you. He was obsessed, secretly of course. He couldn't dare share his true feelings towards you, he couldn't risk it. Losing you and your 'friendship'. 'Sorry Steven, I don't see you that way' was the reoccurring thought going through his mind at night.All he looked forward to was for you to show up.

"Hey Steven,how's it going?" Your voice rang in his ears as he looked over to you walking towards his desk. "How's the gift shop treating you?" He smiled."It's seen better day's." You chuckled and turned your head to him fully. He heard the room go quite as he focused on your facial features. Your eyes, your nose, your skin beaming from the huge light above you. He could stare for hours. His thoughts were interrupted by you waving in front of his face. "Hey, you heard me? I asked if you'd like to hang at my place tonight, we could watch a movie" You were better at hiding your feelings from him,obviously. Steven almost melted when he finally processed your question. "O-oh, yeah I'd love to." "Great! I'll see you then" His heart eyes lingered on your back as you walked away, trying to stop himself from looking below your back. The way your jeans hugged your lower half drove him crazy. He'd wished to be in their place many of times, to be so close to you at all times. He quickly snapped out of it when you left. Now to wait for tonight.

Finally off of work, Steven rushes to his place to freshen up. His work clothes were a bit messy, he couldn't let you see him like this. Quickly, he put on a casual outfit that still made him look decently attractive. He made his way to your house in a hurry, excited to see you but hoping he wasn't late. He knocked on the door slightly and focused on the doorknob. You opened the door, looking at Stevens messy hair. He didn't care about his hair, he was able to see you again, this time in a short top and some flowy shorts. "Steven, come on in I've got evey thing ready" You welcomed him in watching his eyes scan you, then the room. Your mind's been running wild as well. You desperately wanted to run your fingers through his curls, lightly tugging them. You looked over at Steven who was standing awkwardly next to the couch, clearly scared to mess something up. You mustered up the courage to grab his hand and pull him next to you on the couch. You've never actually touched his hand so you never noticed how soft they were. His face was slowly turning red, along with his hands. "Steven... I know I invited you here to watch a movie but there's something else" He almost couldn't sit up on his own hearing that sentence. Was it something he did? He said? Something he didn't do or say? "I.. For the longest time I've always had a crush on you. We've known each other for a while now and I thought today now that we're alone would be a good time to say..." Stevens eyes darted to your lips as you uttered a phrase. "I love you" .

Luckily you saw right through him and quickly kissed him, savoring the bit of leftover peach chapstick he had from earlier. He pulled away slowly, catching his breath. "...I've wanted to do that for so long, you have no clue." He quickly kissed you again, but with more hunger. He nibbled on your bottom lip a bit, not enough to hurt you. His hands traveled to your back, pulling you closer to him and straddling him. You finally got your wish and tugged his messy curls, making him look up at you. He moaned quietly, struggling to keep eye contact with you. He's always wanted to be dominated by you in hopes of awakening some new interests in him. You kissed down his neck, sucking on certain spots to make dark marks. Steven shut his eyes lightly and let out a small whimper in pleasure. Must have found the spot. You leaned your body into him further, slowly grinding on his lap. "I-i've never felt this way before." He stuttered a bit, still feeling your lips on his skin. "I could help you out, I've got some experience" You got off his lap as his eyes followed you. You undid his belt, jeans button and zipper, but kept his pants up. You stared at Steven as you slowly rubbed his buldge, his eyebrows raising in surprise. You kissed him again, making him focus on your lips instead of your hands. You starting to grip at his pants slowly, making him bite your lip. "I need a favor from you, Steven" He looked up at you with his pathetic doe eyes, willing to do anything you asked. "Try not to make any noise, I think I heard the neighbors come in." He nodded,still staring at you. You were lying, no one was home. You just wanted to see how long he'd last trying to keep quiet. You continued rubbing and gripping his buldge watching his eyes try and track your hands. His chest rose up and down quickly, clearly needy. You realized your hand wasn't doing enough so you got back on top of him and began grinding on his lap. "O-oh gosh" you smirked, knowing you'd get this reaction from the poor man. You shifted your weight towards his hips, making him whimper.Steven has thought about you this way and he was ashamed, but now that he has you to please him, even just for today, he's the happiest man in the world. You felt him twitch under you, as he gripped the couch cushions. "A little longer, ok baby?" You praised him up and down the wall, driving him crazy. "You're doing so good for me, just be patient,ok?"Stevens muffled whimpers and whines echoed through the room. You loved seeing him like this, Steven hated to admit it but he did as well. "Love, I-i'm gonna-oh gosh-please.." He gripped your waist tightly, burying his face in your neck. "Are you gonna cum in your pants, love? It's ok just hold on a little longer, ok?" You ran your fingers through is messy curls, lightly tugging at them. You earned a low moan from Steven, his lower half driving him insane. "Please let me cum, please I love you so much...." Hearing him beg so desperately almost made you cum yourself,but you were too focused on letting him finish."I'll let you cum, but I want to hear you loud and clear" His eyes widened, remembering what his one rule was. "But what about the neighbors, I don't want them to know what we're doing..mainly me" you kissed his neck lightly. "I'll leave you just like this if I don't hear you, I know you can do it".You snaked your hand in his shirt, feeling the soft abs that were hidden under the shirt. Steven threw his his head back, beginning to feel the peak of his high. "Can I please cum I'll be as loud as you want, please darling oh my gosh." You nodded, pulling his head up to hear him better. He thanked you, letting out loud, high pitched moans. If he were any louder, you could probably hear him down the halls. You felt his cum leak through his jeans and onto your shorts. You would've licked it up but poor baby's had enough for one night.

Steven draped his hands over your shoulder,finally able to pull himself together. "Oh bollocks, um, sorry it's so much I didn't know-" You looked down at the cum still dripping from the zipper of his pants. You lightly smiled and looked at a bright red,clearly embarrassed Steven. "It's alright, love. Nothing a bit of cleaning can't fix." You kissed him lovingly, cherishing every part of him. "So,would you be willing to go on a proper date some time? One where we aren't on my living room couch." You smiled, waiting for Steven to answer your question.He was still kind of out of breath but tried his best to answer.

"I would love to.. "

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[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC questionnaire

Thanks to @eccaiia here, @mysticstarlightduck here and here, and @elsie-writes here!

Other questionnaires:

Robbie, Gwen, Maddie, Noelle, Jedi, and Kelsey here.

Carmen, George, Akash, Sam, Lexi, and Ash here.

Gabriel, Carla, Parker, Rose, Alex, and Ewan here.

Liam, Hye-Jin, Wendy, Wade, Issa, and CJ here.

Teo, Niri, Jazlyn, and Anathi here.

Below the cut, I will do Tyler, Xitlali, Atsila, and Raissa!

#1- Tyler

Are you an outdoorsy person or a fair weather freak?

“Outdoors suck. Would rather stay inside. Gym is inside. Books are inside. Why bother dealing with outside?’

Do you like animals? Have any pets?

“Have a poodle named Jolene. No, we didn't style her hair. She's perfect as is.”

What's one thing you keep on you at all times?

“... Did you know that the last thing you think about before you fall asleep is the first thing you remember in the morning? So the night before a big test, study right before going to bed! That'll keep you up at night.”

#2- Raissa

Do you have any weird or unusual habits?

“Absolutely not. There is nothing weird about me. Though John complains about me sighing too much. He once said I breathe out more air than I breathe in.”

Are you a night owl or a morning bird?

“These are ridiculous Ceteri phrases that make no sense. But my answer is neither, or both. You decide how to interpret it. I have devised a daily potion that allows me to properly function on a mere five hours of sleep, rather than the eight most people need. I'm up early and late. Now, if only I can get my team to help find a way to eliminate sleep altogether...”

Who is the person you hate the most? Why?

“Atsila McLain would be such an easy answer. And I can tell you want me to say her. But no. She was merely annoying. I try to avoid thinking about her Aequales as long as I can. She thought of us as nemeses, but it was one-sided on her part. But maybe if she stopped trying to take what was rightfully mine, I would stop. She never experienced anything I did. And in the name of peace? She was an awful person. It was a relief when I killed her.”

#3- Atsila

What are your biggest pet peeves?

“Oh, spirits, I hate when people aren't doing what they're supposed to do at the speed they should do it. I mean, how hard is it to adhere to a schedule and complete your tasks in an efficient manner? I don't understand it! I tell people to do something, and they don't do it! Or, they do it in the least efficient way I've ever seen. Even something as simple as walking. Walk diagonally to get somewhere faster. No need to stay on a certain path. But no it seems like every other person here is staying on the path.”

Who is the person you look up to the most?

“I don't look up to anyone. Literally, I suppose, everyone--I am rather short. Figuratively, no one. I suppose Carmen is rather efficient. And organized. She's highly intelligent and... She listens to me. I admire her loyalty and companionship.”

Do you have any major fears?

“Absolutely not. [Pause] I suppose boredom. Mediocrity.” if I may add - it's because she's terrified at the state she'll be in if something isn't going on Right Now

#4- Xitlali

Do you have any allergies?

“I think this is a personal question. I mean, what kinda questionnaire is it? Would rather not answer it. But ekaberries. I break out in hives if I eat it.”

How many people have you kissed?

“Not as many as I'd like, but I'm only twelve, so I'll probably kiss a few girls before long.”

What is your favorite number?

“My favorite number is 63. I find it incredibly satisfying knowing it's divisible by 7. 91 is a close contender for the same reason.”

I feel like this is all of the prominent TSP characters I feel need to answer these questions. Next time I'm tagged will begin the repeats.

Tagging softly @aziz-reads @thegreatobsesso @i-can-even-burn-salad @mk-writes-stuff @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

What is your favorite thing about rain? What is your least favorite thing about it?

@willtheweaver @elsie-writes @dyrewrites

+ ANYONE ELSE

What is something you don't mind waiting a long time for?

Have you ever been punished for something you didn't do?

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy