#like seriously did i read that wrong??? am i going insane?

[afrenomes]

Like, how can thousands of people on this hellsite be like “yeah, don’t be antisemitic! Antisemitism is bad! Don’t say [insert the most blatantly antisemitic statement ever]! Instead, say [insert the SECOND-most blatantly antisemitic statement ever]!”

I don’t use this term lightly, but I feel like I’m being gaslit???? Like, did I read that post wrong??? I don’t think so, but how can so many people, including the person I follow who put this on my dash (and whom I’ve been following for a long time and until now I respected), be this fucking stupid???

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[heart2beom]

cliché

pairing: bsf!yeonjun x reader

genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, crack, little angst

synopsis: after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.

or in which you're perplexed at all the movie hangouts your friend has been initiating.

warning: mature language, reader is assumed to be fem

notes: honestly, i always try to cut down the word count to make it more available for people who only read drabbles/blurbs but i just CANT. so here's another short oneshot T-T and as always, reblog to help the algorithm pick up on this :D

yeonjun was confused walking back home -- no, the whole day, he was disturbed. the reason for this was yesterday...when he went to get drinks for both you and him at a frat party.

the crowds were insanely hard to get through (and it didn't help that people kept on stopping him to 'catch up' or whatnot) so it took him more than fifty minutes to come back with the drinks he promised to get.

but it looked like it was too late because the people you were surrounding yourself with when yeonjun was there...disappeared. instead, you're bundled up, alone in a corner, with a guy he does not know. which was already weird because yeonjun knew everybody, and that was enough reason for him to hurry his ass up through sweaty frat drunks and make sure the unknown guy isn't some sleazeball.

that time he wasn't aware that he rolled his eyes but he did conciously plan to squeeze himself into the conversation...and technically cockblock.

but when he neared you...that's when his world shattered...on more dramatic terms. it was more like his confidence was shot down to the deepest depths of hell.

"oh, yeonjun? pfft, he's like a brother!"

even though it was almost barely audible due to the blasting music, 'brother' to his ears were magnified -- the word circling through his head.

brother. brother?!

and as a result of this baffling situation, he had backed himself in an opposing corner with your cup in his right and his cup in his left, way further than you now, thinking of where did it go wrong?

he's never had someone friend-zone him -- for heavensake, he's yeonjun, he's aware of how attractive he is. but brother-zone? that was even worse of an attack!

it doesn't matter that you said it -- come on, that's barely the case. it's the fact that someone was so unattracted to him that he was seen as a sibling.

sure, you and yeonjun were a sort of bunch that have been together since... forever, really. seriously, you were friends since elementary -- when you joined the school, fourth grade, mindlessly kicking rocks at recess he approached you like the social butterfly kid that he was, asking you if you wanted to come play with his friends.

once he took another sip of the red cup in his right hand, the fruity punch being way too overbearing (just how'd you like it), he furrowed his brows together.

he definitely doesn't see you as a sister.

he'd have to admit that when middle school hit and his puberty was acting up around ...the seventh grade? he was convinced that he would eventually marry you like the way his parents were. a brother wouldn't have felt that way about his sister! normally that is...

granted, he mostly blamed that on the first strikes of puberty because right after middle school, he moved on from the thought -- completely abandoning his pre-puberty dreams, but that was besides the point!

he was getting nauseous from the sweetness of his drink and the further he thought about the way you thought of him, he felt that he would ruin the party by vomiting on someone.

his night was officially ruined. absolutely, fundementally, literally ruined.

and thats how he found himself unfocused on everything around him the next day, finally making the decision to consult with his roommates about this frankly, very big conundrum.

"you can't just purposefully leave out important details? like, how am i supposed to diagnose you properly bro?" beomgyu asked as he spammed the keys on his controller.

"you're not diagnosing me--" yeonjun exhaled, wanting to to keep the banter to the minimum in respect to the issue he's facing. "literally what do you think we're doing right now?"

"i'm going to be completely honest and say ...i have no idea-- shit, what the fuck are you doing heeseung? jump! jump!" he yelled towards the big screen in front of him.

yeonjun groaned, turning his head to behind the couch. "soobin, it's not too late to help out your only friend!" he yelled out in hopes of it reaching the guy's bedroom.

and with no response, he turned back to watching the game beomgyu was playing. "god, you know how many times i gave that guy life changing advice on women?"

"and this is how he repays me?"

beomgyu nodded along to whatever yeonjun was mumbling about until the brunette magically connected dots and euphoric realization hit him. beomgyu almost scrambled around to completely face him this time, "hold on, hold on. yeonjun you lost me, are you having girl problems?"

to that, yeonjun rolled his eyes. "i wouldn't call it 'girl problems', that sounds like a problem soobin would have."

"uh-huh ...uh-huh. no, no yeah." beomgyu said nodding mindlessly to save the guy some face. "heeseung i'm logging off dude, yeonjuns got girl problems."

yeonjun just deadpanned to the back of the guys head, having no will to correct him.

he wanted to get the pending issue out of the way first.

it was more situated a few minutes later. instead of beomgyu sitting on the floor criss crossed, leaned on the couch yeonjun was sitting on, beomgyu was now sitting on the chair next to the couch, his elbows on his knees, brows deeply furrowed.

and not to forget yeonjun's pen and paper in hand.

"so... you're trying to get a girl to like you?"

"not like. i want her to see me as someone she would want as a boyfrie--" when he saw beomgyus brow raising up as to say 'whats the difference' he cleared his throat. "yea, basically."

"don't you know how to do that though?"

he shrugged, "it's different this time."

"how?"

"trust me, it's very different."

"okay but how?"

"you'd be the last person i'd ask for an interrogation beomgyu, that'd be a task for like... taehyun or something."

"i'm sorry that i need to understand my client first--"

"i am not your client" yeonjun said, rolling his eyes.

"what's going on here?", yeonjun turned his head to see soobin behind the kitchen island, scooping himself some icecream.

"dude, where were you when i needed you?", yeonjun asked.

"me and yj are holding a dating therapy session."

yeonjun turned his head to beomgyu, "again, it's not a therapy sessio--"

"you're getting dating advice from beomgyu?" soobin asked, his face scrunched up doubting if it really got this bad.

and back to soobin. "when you say it like that.." "soobin can you please leave yeonjun alone? he's in a very vulnerable state right now"

then beomgyu again. "i'm seriously going to beat you up." he said, biting his bottom lip and raising his fist against his roommate. beomgyu immediately jumps dramatically, shielding himself with his arms up.

"see? he's getting violent!"

soobin finally plopped on the couch next to yeonjun with his cup of icecream. "explain it to me, maybe i can help you out."

"i'll save you the trouble, he's not explaining for whatever reason--"

"a girl said that i'm like a brother to her." yeonjun reluctantly mumbled.

a wave of silence hit the dorm, for a minute yeonjun thought they just didn't hear him and to be completely honest, he was about to thank the gods because he regretted saying anything the moment he did, but that thought was immediately shot down when both sides of his ears were being blasted by humiliating laughter.

soobin got up, patting yeonjun's shoulder as reassurance, still laughing. "yeah, good luck with that hyung."

"okay, it's not even that bad--"

"dude, not even cha eunwoo would survive the sibling zone." beomgyu said, a hard reality check for yeonjun. "though hyunbin might.." he mumbled to himself. yeonjun caught it though, but it didn't matter. yeonjun was no hyunbin.

"fuck." he breathed out, the utensils he was holding had lesser grip on them as he just stared into nothingness. beomgyu was right. he's forever stuck as a brother in your eyes.

but then a ring of his phone snaps him out of it.

when he checks the id, his ambition is restored almost immediately for whatever reason; it was you.

"yo why are you smiling?", beomgyu said trying to peep at yeonjun's phone, but yeonjun reflexes took over, and he immediately turned his phone off.

"beomgyu, don't you think i kind of resemble hyunbin?" he said with a head tilt and an overconfident smirk, talking like he just had an epiphany.

"the one from crash landing on you? uh no."

yeonjun jumped from the couch a new man, his pen and paper in one hand and his ringing phone on the other. he finally faced beomgyu as the man he was, choi motherfucking yeonjun. "i gotta answer this call...and also, if you ask anybody who my celebrity doppelganger is, everyone would proudly say its hyunbin dumbass."

then yeonjun left with a smile and a surge of new confidence overtaking his face as he spoke away on the phone with you, while beomgyu was left in the living room more than confused as he looked up the actor on his phone.

instead of finding the difference, beomgyus brain was tasking him into finding the similarities...which, there was one to yeonjun's credit.

black hair.

"when are the others coming?" you asked looking around the crowded floor as yeonjun was buying popcorn and drinks. "the movies about to start.." you mumbled, checking your phone for the hundredth time.

"oh, i guess its just me and you again." he said with the popcorn and bottle of coke finally in his arms.

"again? don't you think this is getting suspicious?" you said as you walked alongside yeonjun, not noticing the way yeonjun just gulped.

you stopped in your tracks, in turn yeonjun bumping into your back a little, a few popcorns dropping on the floor.

"hey...you don't think.." you furrowed your brows, in deep thought. this has been on your mind for a while now. "you don't think they're trying to set us up or something do you?"

after the third time your friends stood you and yeonjun up, you were starting to think they were pushing, what they called, the 'ynjun' agenda..but it was the first time you'd ever bring it up to yeonjun, so you just laughed it off -- scolding your friends will come on a later date.

"nevermind, lets go inside the movie theatre jun."

"ya' y/n, wait."

you turned around to an awkward standing yeonjun at first, but he immediately straightens up and clears his throat, with a smile you've grown so attached to -- the smile that reached his eyes. for something so simple, it made your heart beat a little quicker than normal.

"can you hold the coke for a sec? i'm trynna--i'm trynna do something."

you break into a light laugh, "um, okay." that snapped you out of it because you remember who he was again -- your platonic best friend.

you took the cola bottle off his right arm, expecting him to take his phone out of his pocket to check something.

but as you stared at your sneakers, checking if they're untied, you felt his hand on top of your head, which startled you.

you looked up to meet yeonjuns eyes, a brow raised.

before you could say anything, he ruffled the top of your hair gently, leaning towards you a bit, to shorten the height difference.

"y/n, let this be our first date." your platonic best friend's voice, so warm and gentle you thought you would only hear in dreams, said those words...to you.

"so you asked her out on a date but you don't even like her...? that doesn't make any sense." soobin said, sitting on the couch watching beomgyu hog up the tv screen, his use time running out.

"bros an asshole..but i feel like we knew that already-- fuck you heeseung. you fucking suck ass you need to get off my team." beomgyu yelled.

"okay, first of all, it's not that bad. she doesn't like me at all, plus the date was how we would usually hung out anyway."

soobin just shook his head -- being the only guy with a functioning moral compass amongst the people he called his friends was exhausting.

as soon as he was about to lecture yeonjun, the tv timer goes off -- and that makes his plan a fleeting thought.

"it's my turn now, throw me the remote."

"bro give me a second, let me finish this gam--"

"no! unplug your console." soobin yelled impatiently, he knew better than to let beomgyu go over the timer again.

beomgyu groaned, abandoning heeseung in the game and unplugging his console. when soobin got control of the tv and opened up netflix, beomgyu stood up to sit next to yeonjun -- who had gotten a notification from you.

"yj, who's the chick? you never told us."

"uh, you don't really know her." he mindlessly answered, focused on the messages from you.

[y/n, 9:16 pm] that serenade ..as cringe as it was.. [y/n, 9:16 pm] like lets be serious, there was NO reason for u to get on top of the cafeteria table lol

he hadn't yet told his roommates what he did this morning, thinking that he'd get a longer lecture by soobin.

but he had took inspiration from the movie you guys were watching the other night at the cinema. you talked his ear off about how romantic it was, how you would fall at the feet of dicaprio if he did the same to you..

he was no dicaprio, but he could try is what he thought. and though you forced him to get down half way through, he could still enjoy sharing the laughter, your laughter, that was ringing in his ear.

[yeonjun, 9:17 pm] as cringe as it was...? you're in love w me ;)

he typed it as a joke, a smile tugging on his lips waiting for your reaction to his teasing.

but beomgyu hovered over his phone out of boredom again, and out of instinct yeonjun threw his phone -- the three chois looking at the phone on the floor in shock.

"bro, why are you being so secretive? were you sexting?" beomgyu yelled, accusatory.

"can we collectively have some decency in this house, jesus fucking christ beomgyu." soobin muttered.

"shut up church boy, yeonjun's hiding something for sure."

"or maybe he just wanted some privacy dude?" soobin retaliated.

yeonjun jumped up pointing at soobin, "exactly! exactly! listen to soobin, you were invading my personal space. so not cool beomgyu."

"yeah, okay. you've never agreed with me with this much enthusiasm before. he's hiding something. quick, check his phone." to soobins order, beomgyu was prepared to run to the phone when he made eye contact with the owner -- but yeonjun was quick.

"good god, wait wait. what do you want beomgyu--fuck, if you wanted her name it's y/n alright? the chick's y/n!" yeonjun doesn't do well under pressure, at all.

"what are you talking about--" beomgyu's face morphed into shock with his mouth agape. "--oh my fucking god. yeonjun, y/n's the chick? the one who brother zoned you?" beomgyu yelled.

"yeah...?" he said hesitantly.

"i can't--i just can't. soobin knock some sense into him." beomgyu turned away dramatically, shaking his head.

"yeonjun--" soobin started.

"dude, y/n has been in love with you for like a decade!" beomgyu blurted out, turning to face yeonjun again, interrupting soobin.

"uh..no? guys, i literally told you that she said she sees me as a brother. i saw her telling some guy that at the frat party last week."

beomgyu walked towards yeonjun, grabbing both of his shoulders, shaking him, "she. didn't. brother. zone. you. you stupid fuck!"

"she's been saying that to people because its so obvious that every time she tries moving on, she still likes you." soobin added in.

yeonjun, with his brows furrowed, tore beomgyu's hands off his shoulder -- walking towards his phone.

and it felt like a million thoughts were racing around his head the three seconds it took for him to get his phone, like a storm, a big tornado clouding his mind. but the most heavy was...how long? a fucking decade? and he never noticed?

he found it hard to swallow, almost nervous...that it was true.

the two other chois were staring at him, exchanging glances.

and when he picked up his phone, it was like he feared.

his text was left on read.

yeonjun's roommates were right for once.

all the secret glances he'd catch, a smirk twitching on his face as he pretended not to see, all the times you'd practically asked him out -- he shot it all down subconsciously thinking it was nothing more than coincidences on top of coincidences.

"you know, i was thinking it was weird you freaked out so much about the brother thing. yunjin told you that right to your face like last month and you didn't say anything." beomgyu said as he let himself fall on the couch.

beomgyu was right, he didn't care when yunjin said it.

yeonjun looked at beomgyu, eyes confused. "so...what are you trying to say?"

"maybe you feel the same way...? god, do i have to spell it out for you every single time?" he said dramatically, groaning.

"okay yeonjun. drama's over, go do your walk of shame to your room." soobin said, getting comfortable on the chair again to watch the premier of his show.

"and reflect!" beomgyu shouted out as yeonjun went over to his room, obeying soobin with his phone tight in hand.

"what are we watchin?" beomgyu finally asked, soobin giving him a side eye in response.

"we? beomgyu, i'm not watching another show premier with you again."

"just because my commentary is too good doesn't mean you have to get all jealous--"

yeonjun bursts out of his room through the narrow hallway that lead to the main door, a coat hanging on his right arm as he hurriedly slipped on his sneakers.

it startled both of the guys on the couch, looking over at him with brows raised: what is yeonjun doing?

no one could get a word in, not even beomgyu, before he was totally out of sight.

only adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he shut the door behind him, putting his arms through his padded coat, and sprinting to the elevator -- frantically spamming the button to make him falsely hope the elevator would reach his floor any faster

it wasn't like he had to do something in the ten minutes his head thought he had left, no, it was the realization that had him acting in urgency he never thought he'd have for a girl. all of his stupidity dawning on him -- for fucksake, of course it mattered that you said he was like a brother, it was you.

and as he ran out the building -- his head felt dizzy, not because it was overwhelmed with thoughts, no, this time he only had a few but those were harder to manage his head.

did he ever give up on you in middle school?

did he ever move on from you in highschool?

did he really dump a dream, you -- the dream he had as a boy, with all the other dreams he never thought would happen?

when yeonjun was finally in front of your family house, the one you still chose to live in through your college experience, he moved to where'd he guess the window of your room was.

"y/n?" he shouted out with all the energy he could muster up. he had to bend over his knee to catch his breath, because he would shout your name again.

again, and again, and again.

blood rushed up to his cheeks, not because of the cold, because he was embarrassed -- what if you weren't even here?

he waited, staring up at the window which showed no sign of your room light being on.

but he wouldn't give up, he'd have to try something else.

yeonjun looked down at his feet, the absence of the sun being harder on his vision. there were no rocks, the only thing visible to his eyes were branch sticks which only made him hope that his aim was good enough to get your window a few times.

it wasn't.

when the last stick that he found hit a window that wasn't the one he was trying to aim at - he cursed under his breath, defeated. yeonjun concluded that this was a bigger fail than the fucking time he found out that he was flirting at a family--not a class, reunion.

he could just go back to his dorm and call you is what he thought as he exhaled, a fog escaping his lips into the cold, feeling even more of a loser.

"yeonjun?!" he turned around at the familiar voice calling out for him and his eyes widened, lighting up as they set on your face, finally out of the window, with your room light making it a little easier for him to see your features.

"y/n?" he shouted back, ecstatic.

"what are you doing out here?", you shouted the words slowly so he could pick it up. then add, "it's fucking cold!"

"i just wanted to know" he inhaled, the cold air burning his nostrils, "why you didn't answer my text!"

it was silent, yeonjuns lips agape waiting for a response.

"you're fucking insane!" you said laughs slipping between your words, yeonjun scoffs lightly, a wide smile on his face.

he put his hands up as walls to his mouth to echo his words louder, "for you!" he shouted out in response.

"shut the fuck up!" it was a distant yell, one you both assumed, as you met eye contact, was y/n's neighbors. and then you laughed again at the untimely part of it all.

when you turned away from the window, yeonjun found himself yearningly waiting for you to come back. hands that were in his pockets felt a vibration -- his phone.

he took it out just to see a notification from his, quite frankly, favorite person ever.

[y/n, 10:26 pm] lets talk on here lol

he looked up and saw you at the window again, with you waving your phone at him -- it earned a smile tugging once more, on the ends of his lips.

just how did he manage to ignore overwhelming feelings about you, of you, for the past decade?

[yeonjun, 10:27 pm] come down. i'm not gonna tell u this thru text [y/n, 10:27 pm] why not? [yeonjun, 10:27 pm] don't wanna [y/n, 10:28 pm] youre asking me to get out of my cozy ass room just bcs u dont wanna??

"yeah! basically dumbass!" he shouted, startling your poor self out of your focus on your phone. you glared at him, yeonjun most likely missing it.

[y/n, 10:28 pm] STOP DONT DO THAT THOSE PSYCHOS ARE GOING TO CALL THE COPS ON ME [yeonjun, 10:29 pm] ok then come down before i freeze my fingers off

when you slid your window closed, closing your curtains, he immediately turned to quickly run towards the front of your house. yeonjun leaned on the fence of your porch, smiling with thoughts of you clouding his mind, as he looked up at the moon.

it was all so cliché -- the type of scene his roommates would squeal over and one that he would roll his eyes to, but if he were to watch this part of his life, again and again -- the moment you opened the door, the moment you both exchanged looks that communicated 'we feel the same way don't we?', a short awkward laugh that was shared, the moment you hesitantly opened your mouth to say something -- and then, the final moment of his longing lips crashing onto yours, his cold hands warming up the moment he cupped your face, the repocracy from your side making him smile into the kiss, the euphoric realisation that he wasn't late, you didn't stop loving him yet, and when he cut the kiss short, both your lips barely apart, yeonjun whispered an i love you, and to it you smiled, pulling him into your house, to finish your kiss -- he would too, squeal over the scene, kicking his feet like a highschool girl.

ending a/n: YOU FINISHED IT YAY :D yeonjun was lowk an asshole for wanting to lead on mc at first for his own benefit, but hes such a cutie im sorry, its easy to forgive T-T let me know what you feel about this piece, it was so fun to write!!

[andy-wm]

i'm wondering how your thesis of "idols will come out when they want" fits into your insane shadow analysis attempting to prove jimin and jungkook fucked in the middle of their travel show (amongst other things)? like do you get joy out or trying to drag someone out of a closet they might not be in? or is it something else? just curious! 😀

Hey wdcmaxy

Since you have the guts to use your name I'll respond :)

So, you read my thesis?

*Sips whisky*

Cool. And you read my insane shadow analysis too?

Hmmm... do you come here often?

Let me answer your question then.

I think we both know the shadows analysis isn't really insane - it's based on very basic earth science. Shadows grow longer as the day progresses because of the rotation of the earth on its axis. You sound reasonably literate so i assume you know this already.

I guess your description of my shadow analysis ( I think I'll name my next racehorse 'Shadow Analysis') as insane is an attempt to discredit the idea that a fair bit of time passed while Tae was out of the house? But that was kinda silly on your part. Even children know that shadows change as the day passes.

Nothing insane about it.

He was gone for hours, no debate.

Now let's move on to the fucking part, and when and how idols choose to come out.

This is actually worth discussing.

As flattered as i am that you think my tiny insignificant blog could be a game changer for anyone, let's be real.

How many people, besides yourself, do you think read my blog?

Serious question.

I'm estimating maybe 100. Double that on a good day. Maybe 300 if i write something REALLY profound which doesn't happen often.

I am way less excited about my impact on the world than you are, because I'm a realist.

BUT if by some strange twist of fate my blog came to the attention of someone whose opinion mattered (I'm not counting you, don't worry) do you think they would take it seriously? Do you REALLY imagine a random tumblr post about shadows could make someone believe that an idol was gay if they didn't already believe it?

Here's a great example of how that wouldn't happen:

You, dear reader.

You're my example.

You came here to tell me I'm speaking shit and that I should pull my head in, correct? My insane shadow analysis hasn't changed your beliefs at all. You're here, throwing a tantrum on my page, because you don't agree with what I'm saying, not because you suddenly believe it.

Or ...

Perhaps you suspect it's true and that scares you. Maybe you can't be absolutely sure I'm wrong and that's why you need to yell at me? Could that be it? Time for a bit of self reflection?

Either way, it's not going to make an iota of difference in the grand scheme of things.

We are all just dust motes floating through time and space, my friend. You dont need to worry so much. The universe is unfolding exactly as intended.

However... There are a couple of things we should agree on:

The fact is that the shadows grew long and therefore, time passed. And Tae was out for several hours. Maybe he went out for a bit of afternoon delight himself? Maybe Jimin and Jungkook played Pokemon Go all afternoon, or prayed, or practiced their English, or braided each other's hair.

Regardless of whether they did or didn't fuck, or how many times, or on what surfaces, the time still passed.

And whether I write my blog or not, people will believe what they believe. And they will be gay or they won't be gay.

And even though I never mentioned anything about them fucking in that post, whether you like it or not Jimin and Jungkook might be fucking right now, as you read this.

One last thing...

Please bear in mind, through all of this, that fucking is not the be all and end all of life. Sure its a lot of fun if you do it right but the notion that it's more meaningful than sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, or giving someone your time and energy, is bullshit.

You can have a roots-deep love for someone and never even think of fucking them. Or you can meet someone in a public toilet and have at it, and leave without even knowing their name.

Sex does not equal love. Fucking is not that big of a big deal.

Unless...

Unless you're fucking someone the patriarchy doesn't want you to fuck. Then its a major issue.

Hear me out.

The need to control who we fuck is based a patriarchal need to control material wealth.

To control material wealth, the patriarchy needs to control reproduction (so they can be sure their wealth stays with their bloodline, because wealth is built over many generations) and to do THAT they need to control womens' bodies.... and to do that, of course they need to control who women fuck. And who men fuck too!

Do you know what the ACTUAL issue is with men who like dick? They don't automatically buy into the patriarchal way of life. (where's the solidarity, lads?)

Why don't they?

Because lifelong monogamy and marriage and nuclear families don't matter as much when you're not equating love with sex, and sex with reproduction. When your goal isn't to accumulate wealth and pass it down to your children.

Same thing applies to women who love women. They aren't focused on being demure and pleasing the men in power. They aren't focused on making themselves wife material. They will challenge the status quo and maybe even (shock! horror!) decide not to have children. How the heck do you make sure your money and power stays in the family, how do you build an empire, when the women are perfectly happy having sex with each other and don't want to love, honour and obey??

And whose fault is all this?

Its got to be the damned queers, right? They're making people think there might be other ways to share your life with those you care about! That's why its important to squash down gayness whenever you can, right, wdcmaxy?

Look at them destroying the fabric of society!

If Jimin and Jungkook ARE fucking every chance they get, good for them. I hope they're balls deep and breathless, hitting all those sweet spots for each other having a really good time.

And if they're not fucking, it actually doesn't matter to me because the way they support each other and share their hearts is beautiful. (I do think they are fucking though)

Truthfully, whatever they're doing, as long as they're happy I'm happy.

Can you say the same, wdcmaxy?

Peace.

[somehow-a-human]

The Bullet Catch and the Final 15

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay, this started as a completely different post. I was writing something else and I had to abandon it because I realized I needed to be writing this instead. It was like a lightbulb moment, or rather, a headlight moment (see what I did there?)

"Banana, Fish, Gorilla, Shoelace, with a dash of Nutmeg." Clearly adversarial forces are capable of seeing what Crowley and Aziraphale are talking about within the bookshop from across the street. It's confirmed the zombies have gotten The Marvellous Mr. Fell's strange magic words correct at the end of the 1941 minisode. Is this foreshadowing the clear observation of the final conversation Aziraphale and Crowley share directly in front of the bookshop window, by the Metatron?

"Aim for my mouth, shoot past my ear". Well if this isn't that damn kiss I don't know what is. And the bullet, the bullet hiding in his mouth. Magicians historically have had keys passed to them through their mouths via a kiss. Crowley sure did aim for that mouth...

"You have formed a de-facto partnership with the demon Crowley." It's a threat, plain and simple. It's the same thing as Furfur showing up in the dressing room with a photograph of the two of them. And what does Aziraphale do both times? He pulls the same fearful face, is terrified for Crowley, and immediately figures out something to quash the threat. Aziraphale is so smart and so fearful for Crowley's safety, he will do whatever it takes, above his own interests to keep him safe.

"Trust me". The bullet catch. God, the stress of this trick, this insane show of trust and love. "You said trust me", "and you did". I have watched season two an unknowable number of times now, and this is still difficult to see on screen, but it's there. Aziraphale mouths, "trust me" and Crowley catches it, and more importantly, trusts him.

This angel knows he's being watched, the love of his life has been threatened, he knows he has no options and he needs to perform a massive trick to save Crowley. Good thing, he always gets it right the time it matters.

Honorable mention: I am an "Aziraphale was trying to signal for a time stop/help to Crowley" truther, here, when it looks like maybe he mimes 'timeout' and "help". I think either Crowley was too blinded by his newfound plan to confess his undying love for Aziraphale to pick up on his "something's wrong voice" or clear non-verbal communication, which we've established this season they are very good at (see Aziraphale asking Crowley to freeze Dalrymple in Edinburgh). OR he did catch the signals and he is LISTENING.

If you haven't read this post by @noneorother about the parallels between The Tales of Hoffmann and GO season 2, you need to. But to snag a small quote of theirs to highlight this one specific point:

"Stella [Aziraphale] arrives in the tavern looking for Hoffmann [Crowley], ready to run away, but now accompanied by Lindoff [Metatron] (dressed as an angelic figure) who followed her. She looks to Hoffmann to save her, but he's too blinded by the fact that he doesn't think she loves him back to pick up on the signal. He gives up, and she goes back up the stairs guided by Lindoff." - @noneorother

Okay but seriously make sure you go read that whole post.

If that isn't what happens in the final 15, what is?

Then we have the end of 1941 pt.2, wine in the backroom, and the reveal of the photograph. Crowley realizes Aziraphale saved him, he realizes how much he can trust him, and if my observed light bulb headlight moment is anything, it happened after the final 15 too. He knows. It's still devastating, it's still heartbreaking, and it doesn't invalidate all the feelings and love they couldn't quite come out and communicate right then. They are living under an Orwellian regime, this isn't really a job they can quit or even run away from. They were angels created for a purpose. Sure gabriel and Beelzebub left, but how long until someone tries to hunt them down? Plus, what's the point if Crowley and Aziraphale abandon Earth and just let armageddon part two happen? That's a pretty shit thing of them to do. They want to live on Earth, they want to protect the humans, and they want to do it together.

They didn't eat the apple, the humans did. Maybe at the end of season 3, they'll get their chance.

[daydream-the-demon]

I've been thinking... The Theraprism doesn't seem to have good therapy methods, at least not for Bill.

From what's shown, Bill Cipher refuses to change for any reason, and honestly? You can't exactly blame him. If he does change, he'll be reborn as a being with no power or ability to think properly, he'll lose all his memories of his past (which yes the trauma will be cured, but everything else? All the good times he had? And that he lived for so long? You can't just lose that). He might have the same character, but he'll be completely different.

The thought of him losing himself is a strong one. Him redeeming himself will end up in him completely losing himself. He could redeem himself but still want to be himself and not be reborn.

As someone who suffered through trauma myself, I'd rather have gone through it and keep all my thoughts, power, and memories rather than ever be something that has never gone through it. It's honestly a difficult choice to make to either be reborn with no memories of your past self and not have the same power you used to have, and keep being the same person you are but with severe trauma. To be honest, from this perspective I'd rather just never exist anymore than be reborn.

And from what was seen of the Theraprism? I think their therapy methods might be a bit flawed for Bill Cipher. I think group therapy is not the most suitable for Bill Cipher, along with other things they do. I think it's genuinely not helping him. I haven't read too much into it, but from what I've seen, their methods, specifically for helping Bill Cipher, are flawed.

I realized what actually is wrong just now-

Bill Cipher is a stubborn character, and basing this off of myself, the more you argue with him, the more he's going to think that he's right.

Euclydia, he didn't mean to destroy his dimension. But he ended up doing it. Weirdmageddon, he was a king of a dying dimension, he didn't want to do what he did and kill an entire dimension again, so he ended up starting Weirdmageddon as there was no other way. In his perspective, he was doing only what was right, he WANTED to be a good person of a sort, though eventually he ended up being one of the worst people out there.

Also, I noticed, having an overly-happy front or expression can be a coping mechanism. Ignoring obvious signs, and laughing them off, is also a coping mechanism. Acting "insane" because that's how people perceive you so you act the way others think you are? ALSO A COPING MECHANISM. A lot of what Bill does are coping mechanisms, how do I know? I HAVE THEM MYSELF.

I also propose something, Bill Cipher has a lot of autistic-coded elements to him!

I am an autistic person myself, for context, and it may be just projecting, but seriously.

A long time ago I used to be obsessed with Bill Cipher. I was clueless about the fact I may be autistic (which explained a lot of things when I figured it out). I related to this character a lot, why? My phrases were "We're both outcasted from society", "We're both considered weird", and "We're both insane". And knowing what I know now, displaying yourself to be even MORE weird and MORE "insane" than you are is a form of autistic masking. (I'm not saying Bill Cipher is autistic, but from what I see is that he is very coded so.)

In the Book of Bill, in the morals section, he said to "think of something considered 'evil', now think of 3 reasons why they're actually good, you'll be rationalizing like me in no time!" (Paraphrasing but basically this.) My thought is that he just genuinely does not see why some things are considered 'evil'. There are genuinely good sides to most atrocious things. Murder? Ah, population control, people are disgusting anyway, destroying someone who wronged you (if you want to murder someone who is your enemy). Obviously, I don't think murder is "good", but Bill Cipher thinks like this. He genuinely does not understand why something "evil" is "evil" which of course not understanding the reasons for "bad" and "good" and why they exist can make you seem like you have a fucked up morality (which I myself struggle with too).

He has not been able to grow up in a society, and the ability to understand why morals are necessary, which can really fuck you up in a way.

He was trying to be good, good for his own needs and wants, and that was his morality. He wanted to help his own dying dimension and be a good person for his own dimension he was king of. A good king does whatever he can for his people, and that's what Bill tried to do. He wasn't trying to be a bad person, hell, if he was, he would've just ditched his dimension and not try to help at all. So in this context, he was just trying to be A GOOD PERSON.

Yes, he manipulated Ford, yes he killed many people on purpose, yes he caused nightmares for no reason. That is wrong, but again, Bill doesn't see why morality is necessary. He manipulated Ford to help his OWN DYING DIMENSION. He killed people because HE SAW PEOPLE AS DISGUSTING. He caused nightmares because HE WANTED TO SCREW WITH PEOPLE WHO WRONGED HIM. Bill Cipher is NARCISSISTIC, but in his narcissism he is selfless. He wanted to save his OWN dying dimension, but he wanted to save the dimension in itself too. There are so many points of this it's honestly insane.

So many people misunderstood him and his intentions though, and so everything that happened was seen as him trying to be a bad person.

He needs different shiz. He needs a different type of therapy to get better. His character is not suited for him to be reincarnated as something else. He is never going to get better like this. Never? Try impossible. He isn't going to "'break' and finally try and become a better person for his own sake", he's going to "'break' and give up on everything".

[zombisarchive]

HATE ☆

mdni. long fic. not proof read.

dom! felix catton x sub! f! reader

warnings: slight angst, smut, p in v, degradation, slight biting, slight hair pulling, sub & dom, pet names, slight begging, slight praising, hate fucking, anxious reader

Felix had been upset with me all day. Do I know what I did? no. Over and over again I’ve asked what’s wrong, what did I do, and over and over again I’ve been met with the same reply, “You know what you did.” Call me over dramatic but the way he’s been acting has been eating me alive. What had I done? As the day came to an end, I contemplated on if I should spend the night in his dorm. I paced my dorm room for what felt like hours, my roommate completely tired of me, “what are you doing?” her words snapped me out of my pacing, “Felix is upset with me, and I don’t know what’s I’ve done” She rolled her eyes at me, she hated when I spoke about Felix, mainly because she use to be his old fling, but now that he’s seriously in a relationship with me, she can’t come around to it yet. “It’s serious, Maddie! He won’t even tell me what i’ve done wrong!” And exasperated sigh left my mouth, I felt like i was going crazy. It has been practically a full day and he made no effort in telling me what I’ve actually done to upset him. “Your boy troubles aren’t my problem” Maddie said as she turned her back to me.

Of course she was no help. I decided to take matters into my own hands, I left the dorm room, marching myself to his. Knocking rapidly on his door, he opened the door, assuming I’d be greeted differently he greeted me with a struggle face, “what?” He was still upset at me! “We need to talk..” I said as I fiddled with my fingers, he stepped aside letting me inside the dorm, closing the door behind me. “Go on, speak.” Felix said sternly, if he wasn’t driving me absolutely insane right now, I would have melted at his feet. “What’s been with you today? You’re acting cold, and you’re clearly upset with me! Yet you won’t even tell me what I’ve done!” He rolled his eyes at me, “you seriously aren’t going to own up to it? that’s so pathetically low of you!” Felix’s voice was raises, this took me by surprise. I stood there shocked not saying a word as he continued “Yesterday at that party Far took us to? hm? You were practically throwing yourself to some random man!” My jaw dropped “What?! when the hell did i do that?” “Oh my god stop lying! jesus christ, I can’t your such a slut, just throwing yourself at any man” Felix was fuming at this point, I could see that his ears were turning red, meanwhile I felt like my heart was about to come out of my mouth, did he really think that lowly of me? “your joking right?” Felix let out a frustrated sigh, “I don’t know if you were too drunk to remember but I clearly remember you throwing yourself at a man” “you’re crazy, I’d never do that! drunk or not!” Truth be told, I was completely wasted, I don’t remember much of that night, other than coming back to Felix’s dorm. “Jesus Christ..” He ran his fingers through his hair stressed out. “I don’t remember much of anything from that night Felix, how am I supposed to remember this? I’m sorry if i did that but you cannot blame me for a drunken act!”

Another frustrated sigh came out of his mouth, then silence, “if your so sorry, beg on your knees for forgiveness.” My jaw dropped a little, as I stared at him, he was completely serious. “okay fine..” Getting down on my knees, I looked up at him, “please forgive me..i’m sorry i flirted with another man..please Felix” A smirk spread across his face, that little shit, he was never really upset, was he? “see, that wasn’t so hard was it baby?..acting like a dumb slut when drunk, can’t believe it” His words shooting straight to my core, I felt hot and bothered. His large hand went straight to my hair tugging at it, my head jerked back as I looked at him more clearly. “your going to be a good girl and get on the bed for, aren’t you?” I nodded my head quickly, feeling him let go of my hair, I scrambled to his small bed. He slowly crawled his way onto the bed, pushing me down, my breath hitched. I felt powerless under his intense gaze. Felix’s hands ran up my thighs, as they stopped at my waist band, pulling my bottoms off roughly, he pushed my legs apart kissing up my thighs, biting at him. A whimper left my lips as he bit down on my thighs hard, “Felix..” I moaned out, as I watched him sit up undoing his belt. “shut up, you’ve pissed me off enough today” Felix said in a husky tone, his fingers run up my slit, sending shivers down my body. I felt his thick long fingers shove their way inside me, pumping inside me, moaning out loudly not caring if anyone heard, calling out for him “Felix!..baby please” whimpers and moans left my mouth, as he continued to fuck me with his fingers, before abruptly pulling them out.

A whine left my lips again, watching him was he pulled out his erect cock, pumping himself in his hand. “You’re going to take it all tonight..raw” I gulped as his words, nodding at them in agreement. “been such a stupid slut haven’t you? whoring yourself out” Felix said as he aligned himself up with me, pushing his cock deep inside me, he groaned as I moaned out, “fuck! Felix!..” I felt him slowly thrust inside me, god did it feel amazing. “gonna teach you a lesson..” He muttered out as he took hold of my hips gripping them tightly, his pace quickens as he thrusts hard. Groaning out for me, I reached out to hold him only to be met with him slapping my hands down, “don’t. you don’t deserve it after slutting around” “I’m sorry!..” I stuttered out over and over, he could tell i’m clearly cock drunk. Being manhandled by him was euphoric. I knew he wasn’t going to let me cum, after all I didn’t deserve it. His pace slightly slowed as his thrusts became stuttered, he was close and I could tell. I clenched myself around his cock, he let out a loud moan, “fuck!” He yelled out, “keep clenching around me like that..fucking hell..” biting my lip I did as I was told, I felt myself moving my hips upward to his thrusts, his nails digging into my skin as he fucked me roughly. Felix let out another groan as I felt him shoot his cum deep inside me. “Felix!” I moaned out feeling him cum inside me, his thrusts slow long down, and coming to a stop completely. He stayed inside me, panting and breathing heavily as he came down from his high.

Felix slowly pulled himself out of me, his hands roaming up to my my body, touching me all over. “you know I don’t mean those words right, Love?” His tone much softer compared to earlier, I nodded as I caught my breath “i know baby” “you were so good for me tonight..” He gave me a stupid smile, as he leaned down kissing up my stomach maintaining eye-contact with me. “How about I let you cum this time?” He said with a stupid grin, I rolled my eyes playfully at him “finally.” “shut up” Felix said with an eye roll.

☆requests open!

☆this was kinda bad. it’s my first time trying to write proper fanfics, w/ smut.

[meanbossart]

Ask Compilation: Advice, influences and Misc.

Apologies for taking so long on some of these, admittedly I'm much more likely to entirely forget about asks that are about me and my interests 💃 Thank you for all the questions regardless! And thank you specially to everyone who just drops nice messages into my inbox out of kindness.

I'm brazillian and a native portuguese speaker!

I'll probably return to twitter eventually, but a) I hate that place and b) It didn't make much sense to me to turn it into a BG3 account out of the blue. I am considering making an Instagram or a new twitter just to have more places where people can follow in case they don't care for tumblr, but it's just been a very busy year so far and so that's kind of low on the list of priorities. If I ever do that I'll be sure to announce it here. Have a nice day yourself!

Sorry to hear that! I've gotten a few messages before about this issue, and the problem is that since I am myself not from the US, my options are also limited :( a lot of patreon alternatives don't work for me because they either don't go through paypal, take insane currency conversion fees, or just straight up block me from signing up.

Speak for yourself, I just assume everyone I speak to online has committed some sort of atrocious crime until proven otherwise. Except for me - of course. I have never done anything bad in my life.

I still have a lot to learn! But I will basically use whatever works for me at the moment, as well as make a sincere effort to learn about musculature and anatomy so I can understand those components and how they move, instead of only knowing what they look like when still - that's how you get better at drawing from memory. Volume mostly comes from coloring and understanding light, which is it's own beast but can very much be learned from similar reference materials and observing it IRL!

My favorite places to get reference are medical diagrams, weird pictures I take of myself, 3D software (often Virt-a-mate) and questionably phrased image google searches.

My favorite artists are Jason Shawn Alexander and Sean Murphy, but I'm not sure how much of it reflects in my art nowadays! I generally seek to pick up techniques from artists rather than to emulate style.

Honestly I love that you guys generally do the thing he would hate the most: take him very non-seriously LOL

I've been in a real Chelsea Wolfe and Amyl And The Sniffers kick lately! But usually you'll also find me listening to stuff like Boy Harsher, Swans, FWF, JK Flesh Lingua Ignota, Nick Cave, David Bowie, and so on. Music for the weird gays, basically.

I went insane and wrote a 23-chapter-long-and-still-ongoing fic in like four months. But also - I'm not that good, I'm just shamelessly pretentious LOL

Hm. That's a good question, but I'm not really sure. Sincerely not trying to be a edgier-than-thou here (in fact, this has made me a little self conscious at one time or another) but a lot of art that I don't mean to be horror-y in nature at all has been associated with the genre. So perhaps I don't know what I'm doing either, LOL.

I think just leaning on making things look slightly "wrong" or "ugly" on purpose is the way, but I also find that if you just seek to depict people as they are instead of idealized versions of themselves, you will arrive at that either way.

Thank you for reading! Honestly, I'm guilty of having not read much at all since I was in my late teens, and the style I'm employing for ANE is very different from the things I would call "influential" for me, or even that I used to enjoy reading at all before. I read a lot of Chuck Palahniuk as a youth (and, no slight to people who do like him still, but nowadays I'm not sure why I ever did. His stories don't speak to me at all anymore) as well a lot of weird experimental lit that I didn't even care to remember the name of. My last book stint from one or two years ago was composed solely of historical and medical literature, and last year I got really into Cormac Mcarthy thanks to the internet.

So, all in all, I'm absolutely all over the place LOL if you put a gun to my head and told me to list my favorite books, I'd say The Indifferent Stars Above and Blood Meridian.

(Consider the reading portion of the question to have been answered above) I really really liked Beau is Afraid and think it's a really great "horror" movie. Sue me.

[etoilesbienne]

I try to be a fair person I try to be understanding. but I am sick and tired of having to read about the many sins of Léa for being a whistleblower. People are straight up putting words in her mouth for things she did not say.

Frankly I'm a little appalled that the MCYT community can have a huge moment about the heavy amount of misogyny present in the space and come away with the take she didn't actually experience hate from the fan community. No the other admins didn't not experience hate, but she didn't say that. She said she received hate for being the first person to come out. Or how she was discredited repeatedly and the "Jay" document was used to shame her pointedly and make her out to be unreliable and "a hater." Gee whiz I wonder where I've heard "she's just hysterical and took things too seriously and is a vindictive person out to get others projects to fail." That sure sounds familiar. Especially in CC spaces pertaining to women. Why would she be exempt from misogyny at the hands of the fandom?

Though the way people behave about former admins expressing frustration at the lack of internal translation is making me crazy. There is nothing wrong with Quackity speaking his native language in a stream for announcement. None of these admins ever said he was at fault for speaking Spanish, they were criticizing the lack of internal communication outside of the streams, and the fact the studios had no official translators on payroll to help with communication issues between languages. They aren't asking for him to speak English, tbf most of these admins don't even have English as a first language, why would they want a stream in a different language they aren't fluent in? I don't think Léa was expecting Quackity to suddenly start speaking French. They're asking for translations in the languages they do speak so they can understand these important announcements about their jobs, because they were not receiving the information about these announcements any other way. To be honest it still boggles my mind, even after all of this, that QStudios never even had official translators to relay messages between Quackity to other streamers and admins. Regardless, I feel like people are interpreting this pretty fair criticism of the complete lack of translation to non-English languages impeding the already barely existent communication to be as bad faith as possible from every side. On one hand you have people choosing to believe that is what the admins are saying and agreeing with it and then being racist toward Quackity over it, on the other hand you have people choosing to believe the admins are being racist toward Quackity and sending them hate over it. I'd be insane to deny racism toward Quackity wasn't also happening though.

I don't know what else to say than people who have been working insane hours for months on end to be exploited, and they're upset. This is a server a lot of people cared about as fans, of course the first person to come out and reveal the terrible conditions is going to receive the most amount of hate over this specific instance. It's not an unfounded claim. Have you seen the shit people say about Léa on twitter? It also doesn't mean the other admins didn't receive hate in their own regard, it's just the first person to come out is usually the biggest punching bag for it. Misogyny didn't magically dissipate from the fandom with the removal of a few problem CC. My god hear yourselves and the way you talk about a woman coming out as receiving workplace abuse.

[pathologicalreid]

Girlie (gn) you hate Maeve? You have good taste I see, I fucking hated her (well strongly disliked but still) mary sue is such a perfect term, she was just boring and I feel Spencer felt so wet and weepy with her

i don't hate maeve so much as i hate the maeve plotline! i think strongly dislike is a really good phrase to use when talking about my feelings towards maeve's character.

as a character, she's super flat and one dimensional. i think she and spencer were "together" for eight months(?) and the episode where you learn the most about her is the one where she fucking dies. i've spent all day thinking about this and im beginning to think that part of the reason why she is a mary sue is that spencer tends to put people he cares about on pedestals and ignores their flaws.

and youre like "what flaws does she have if you barely know anything about her" and okay i'll tell you:

b-12 and magnesium as a treatment for migraines is fucking insane. i'm not saying it couldn't work, but all through season 6 (re: 6x12 "corazon") spencer is seeing doctors and anyone who has ever dealt with a fuckass chronic disease/illness will tell you that a blood panel like that would be one of the first steps in reaching a diagnosis!!!

why on god's green earth would you have a stalker, be dating an fbi agent, and not let your fbi agent boyfriend help you? i have been stalked before!!!! it's not fun!!!!! i'd take all the help i could've gotten at the time. this has always rubbed me the wrong way because oh my god the solution was right there the whole time. he could have protected you! he would have protected you!

i know they weren't technically doctor/patient but there is still some weird power dynamic in their relationship that gives me the ick. other than they're smart and they read, they really dont have much in common.

their relationship to me is equivalent to the girl i dated online after we met through percy jackson fan accounts. i.e. not really a relationship. most of their interaction was off screen and i think that did a huge detriment to the plot.

in the end, i think the maeve storyline and 8x12 "zugzwang" is a hard watch. i can't take it seriously. i'd skip it, but then i'd miss so much blake content (and hotch looks so good in that episode sorry spencer) (not into the fuckass bob in season 8). at the same time, i know it was like... mgg's idea and i'm pretty sure he's friends with beth riesgraf. (he loves to traumatize himself idk). but the whole thing gets messier when you think about the implications left by 14x15 "truth or dare" and the abhorrent jeid plot in season 15 where it's insinuated that spencer has been in love with jj for fifteen years (zoinks) and it's like what about maeve??? i don't know man (gn) i could go on for hours about this

that being said, i see a lot of people not liking the actress who plays maeve. i am telling you that it had to have been the writing or the directing in the episodes because beth riesgraf is incredible. she played a character named parker in the tv show leverage (one of my favorite tv shows of all time) and let me tell you That Is Her Role.

jesus this was long i had more to say than i thought sorry thank you anon

[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: As the Reader processes her role in this experiment, Bucky becomes more and more intrigued with her. He decides that his pardon is not worth her life, consequences be damned.

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, eventual smut, lots of angst

As soon as you left the room, Bucky let out a long, exasperated sigh. Fuck this, he thought, it’s not worth it. Bucky knew when he sought pardon for all his crimes as the Winter Soldier, it came with a price to pay. He knew they were going to run tests to try to recreate the serum. Granted, Bucky never thought they’d try to create super soldiers quite like this, which sent him into a blind rage. Hence why he’s on thin ice with SHIELD – turns out they don’t like it when you beat the shit out of their agents. But his rage was justifiable. Mandatory baby making? Talk about throwing consent out the window. He’s done enough harm as the Winter Soldier – making a woman to have sex with him so she can carry his child sounds like the opposite of making amends. So he decided that the only way he could morally proceed with the study is if he marries her; he can’t let her feel the cold and empty life of being a science experiment. With this new plan, he was able to swallow the idea of the study. But when he saw the dazed look on your face, the shock and fear settling into your eyes, he decided his pardon wasn’t worth it. He’d rather be locked in a cell for the rest of his days than subject you to this study…and to him.

You, on the other hand, were still in complete shock. A string of ‘holy shit’s were on a loop in your brain. You made your way up to the hotel room, ready to crawl into bed and mull over everything that just happened. I just met THE Bucky Barnes, you thought. Seriously? Quit fangirling and focus. They said you had to make super soldier babies. Surely it’ll be like IVF, right? No, you remember that guy saying something about if they fertilize too many eggs inside you, you could die. It had to be organically. Meaning sex…with Bucky Barnes. You’d think after crushing over this man for most of your life, you’d feel a little less devastated. But the whole “experiment” aspect of it really sucks out any potential for romance. With a heavy sigh, you decided not to think about it until tomorrow. Right now, it’s time for bed.

You woke up insanely early after tossing and turning all night. 3:37 AM. The goon squad said they would pick you up at 9 to start prep for the study. Better kiss your IUD goodbye. Don’t they say it can take a couple months before you can get pregnant? That could give you and Bucky enough time to get to know one another, so the whole sex part won’t be as awkward. But that lady did say that she’s moving up the timeline – boy, this was stressful. Not only did you have to get pregnant, but you’re on a time crunch. You never really did well under pressure.

Bucky also couldn’t sleep, replaying the entire interaction with you over and over, analyzing as much as he could. You came into the room dazed and confused; when your eyes met his, he saw you tense up. He anticipated not being well-received – he was, after all, an infamous Hydra killer. What he couldn’t wrap his head around was the look in your eyes afterwards. You seemed almost relieved. He couldn’t understand why. He HAD to be reading you wrong. So he replayed that moment over and over, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. Your dark eyes hiding under thick lashes. The deep red blush on your cheeks. The way you fidgeted with your hands. All these details rolling around in his mind. The more he thought about that moment, the more he felt protective of you. He couldn’t let you be a lab rat, pardon be damned.

Finally, 9:00 came around and you soon found yourself back in an exam room at SHIELD. You were right on the verge of passing out from the IUD removal when you heard a commotion down the hall. The doctor quickly finished yanking it out of your cervix and ran off to god knows where. You heard what sounded like hand-to-hand combat – punches landing, grunting, some bones breaking. Suddenly the door to the exam room busts open, causing you to nearly shit your pants (if you were wearing any, you were still clad in nothing but a hospital gown). Bucky’s metal arm was gripping some guy’s throat, dragging him across the room.

“Get dressed,” he ordered.

Your brain was desperately trying to process his command. Dressed, right. Clothes. Where are my clothes? It was hard to think with severe cramping and being a little woozy from that damn IUD removal. While you shimmied off the exam table, Bucky tossed the now passed out guy onto the floor, looking for something. He found your clothes and purse, throwing them at you. He turned around and waited for you to put them on.

“You done?” he asked. “I’m getting you out of here. Follow me and stay close.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?” You were always such a rule follower. God forbid you get in trouble. “Bucky, that lady said you’re already in hot water. Let’s not make this worse, yeah?”

Before he could respond, several agents pop out from the hallway, guns trained right on him.

“Barnes, enough is enough. Quit throwing your little tantrum and get back to your exam room.” It was the same lady from yesterday.

“Or what, you’ll shoot me? Can’t have your little experiment if I’m dead,” Bucky taunted. Without skipping a beat, the woman fired one shot straight into his right shoulder. Agents approached to escort him out of the room, but he threw one of them into the wall with his metal arm. In response, the other agents whipped out taser batons that looked scary as hell.

“Bucky stop,” you pleaded. You were traumatized enough watching him literally get shot, you didn’t need to see him beat the shit out of the other agents while they tased him with their fancy sticks. To your surprise, he actually listened to you. He put his hands up in surrender, dropping the guy he had in a chokehold. He looked over at you defeatedly, knowing his window for breaking you out was now closed.

Chapter 4

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom

[starchamberzz]

I LOVE NIKOLAI GOGOLLL

BIG DISCLAIMERRR: I consume almost entirely x reader content. I cringe and rot from the inside when reading smut from any other POV . Also this is my first time so don't hate me please😔 I mostly lurk on this app but I was THAT horny that I felt the need to write a damn fic myself.

Basically: Nikolai torments a civilian regularly (not clickbait,gone FREAKY??)

Contains: FemdomReader,Biting,Pegging,Creampie :(

Nikolai first runs into you (covered in blood at that) and immediately grins when when you jump back in disgust and scream at him. As soon as you scramble to your feet you glance at him,petrified,eyes wide as saucers before sprinting away.

Right there and then he wasn't interested in whatever he came to the town to do;he was interested in having fun with a new target.

The next few weeks were something else,a torturous mix of humour,shock,and concern for the man's mental health. He simply appeared wherever using that dammed ability of his and forced you into his nonsensical 'quizzes'. Nikolai would show up for one of the quizzes at your workplace and at your local supermarket!

There was something that you began to tell yourself after the first few times things began to happen.

The later it gets,the more questionable he is. A visit from him at 10am paints a picture of a hyper man,who takes his jester aesthetic too seriously. A visit from him at 12:30 am is completely different. He's much...slower and suspiciously nice.You'd think his eccentric personality wouldn't be dampened by the time.  Nikolai sits next to you-in total darkness,while whispering your name and giggling before wrapping his arm around you and trying to convince you to join him in doing something no sane person would,it's just,cute...and quite disturbing.When he's like that he's impressively more likeable,that's probably why he's more tolerable to you,but not enough to get rid of the lack of comfort you feel sometimes.

This evening however, was rather calming;helping to take your mind off of things for even just a few minutes.The frigid but soothing breeze of the night flowed through a window left cracked open....

Your heart stopped. The damn window was open.

You gasp,realising you've thrown away a peaceful night's sleep. A few seconds later you hear it. No matter how quiet it was you hear that dammed laugh. He was really beginning to get on your nerves,you felt like grabbing him and giving him a thorough shake that would miraculously make him normal. You guess that urge was just a part of the weird relationship you guys had with eachother.

"I know you're there." You half-shout,peering into a dark,gloomy corner of your dead silent room. You pause and stare for a moment until...

"Boo!"

Nikolai shouts as he appears at your bedside and you let out a loud scream.You could've  swore you felt his presence in that corner,how odd. That wasn't important at the moment though.

You sighed as your head hung low. "What is it? A quiz? Did you kidnap someone again?"

"Absolutely not! It's a special request this time! A very fun special request at that!" His voice pierces through your ears,as you groan,he just had to appear right as you were about to sleep.

You raised a brow under a spell of heavy concern for your wellbeing and overwhelming confusion,a special request  from him sounded like something that could only go wrong.

"My special request is....drumroll please!" He paused and looked at you with one of his creepy smiles until you drummed your hands against your thighs. "My special request is....a night with you!"

"No." The two-letter word smoothly flowed from your mouth like second nature. No way were you going to let a criminal spend the night in your house,there was absolutely no way-

You took a second look at him, he looked more  'normal' then usual,but just being less insane wouldn't cut it-- he looked oddly cute,standing at your bedside with his face half obscured in darkness.

He hadn't done too much harm,if he hadn't killed you yet why would he do it now,right? You sigh and slowly nod. He giggles and then immediately invites himself into your bed. You instantly have a feeling that you made a bad choice.  You lie next to him,sweating anxiously and anticipating his next order.

15 minutes later and he hasn't asked a single question. That worried you. Was he seriously just going to sleep in your bed with you? It wasn't bad,just weird. It was silent,except from the occasional laugh from Nikolai and it the additional body heat was baking you under the covers.

He makes an effort to teasingly,agonisingly wrap his arms around a singular one of yours and then to wrap his plump thighs around one of your legs. Suddenly,his lips  shift towards your ear.

"When do I get a kiss?!" Just by that very statement that whole mood changes.You give him a look of shock and judgement before her tugs on your arm.  "I'm waiting! Or...I could set fire to your neighbours house and-"

Your loud groan cuts him off. Slowly,you turn around to face him,were you really about to kiss with the man that had been harassing you so much lately? Not only that but he was probably a murderer too!

You push the moral implications to the side and close your eyes,prepared for a kiss. It doesn't take long though,in a few seconds his soft lips push against yours and you instinctively wrap your arms his waist. The feeling was more pleasant than expected,you wouldn't deny that.

After you two break apart, he jumps up from the bed and grins.

"Are you ready for another request..?" You barely get the chance to say that the change was too sudden before he interrupts you. "Of course you are!" He pats you on the head as you glare at him.

"I am requesting that we make love! Right now! Wouldn't it be fun?" He steps back,reaches into his coat and pulls out a phallic object with multiple straps dangling from it.It also has a rather suspicious button to the side of it."This is for you,my friend,what do you say?!"

You froze and just looked at him in complete shock for a moment. There wasn't at all enough build up to a moment like this! Although,at a second glance,he was kind of cute...before you remembered that he had been harassing you for weeks up until this moment.

You think for a while before nodding,perhaps if you agreed to this he'd stop being so...intense?

Nikolai hands you the strap on and you put it on as carefully as you can,making sure its secure. When you look up however,you find that Nikolai is somehow already undressed,you were only getting ready for a few seconds,how did he even-

You decide to put that thought away for the time being and focus on giving him all of your attention,he wasn't too bad after all,and he seemed ever so slightly anxious about doing it with you.

Before you could do any penetrating you decided he needed preparation first. You softly placed your hands on his legs and gave him a warm smile.

"Could you open up for me please?"

He does so,revealing his throbbing dick and tight entrance. You slip a finger in slowly and and gently move it back and forth inside of him as he quietly whimpered. It was so weird to see him quiet and obedient after everything. It left you wondering where his energy went because his smile definitely didn't leave,it was just  less..intense.

Before you  increased the speed of anything else you push another finger into his warm walls and he lets out a slight yelp at the sudden intrusion. He writhes against the bed as you spread him out even further.Hearing him moan your name aloud while giving you sultry stare only encouraged you to go on.

"I think we should get onto tonight main activity! What do you say?" His words were all spit out in quick succession,was he that eager?

After you sit up you grab his plump thighs and slowly push it in,beginning with the tip.The sudden moan that he let out quickly descended into a freakish laugh that may or may not have actually added to the atmosphere. Hearing it made your heart pang in a way that sent shivers throughout your whole body.

His hole stretched around you, each thrust filling him with a different sensation. He moaned softly, unable to resist the sheer pleasure of being trusted into so deeply. "Agh! Its all...so much..." Nikolai moaned loudy before he slumped heavily against you, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

"Faster, go faster!" At his command you sped up,thick cock quickly ramming against his most sensitive spots,leaving the only way to hold onto you properly being to wrap his legs around your waist.

As you continue to thrust into his tight,coiling walls you feel a sudden sharp pain on your left shoulder. You slow your pace subconsciously and look over only to find sharp teeth lodged into your shoulder. Blood slowly seeps and trickles down your arm,a scarlet stream begins to drip onto your bed slowly.

You collect yourself quickly before putting everything to a stop "What was that for?" You asked,slightly pained and heavily concerned. Everything had convinced you that the worst possible comment would spill from his mouth,but it was a blood stained grin,rouge dribbled down his teeth and down his chin. To him the situation was funny or somewhat arousing..or maybe both? That didn't matter though.

"You can't just do that and expect me to continue how you'd want." You flip him over and press him into the sheets of your already ruined bed.He let's out a few pathetic whimpers,trying playfully on move out of your grasp for a minute.

"Ahn!" He suddenly moaned as your cock began to thrust in and out of him. Every single pitiful whine,whimper and mewl was like heaven to your ears. Seeing the teasing man who tormented you for so long like this felt better than it should've. Here he was,arched against you,chanting your name into the mattress every time you pushed his head against it.

As you continued pounding into him,it was like he had lost all his sense of self. Merely giggling while drooling absentmindedly onto your sheets as he took your cock.The way it rubbed against his prostate so nicely and poked into the deepest parts of him made his mind go blank,not that it didn't have the same effect on you as well.

At last,the constant pleasure was too much for him and his orgasm grew closer,he just needed some extra stimulation. He slid his hand down and wrapped a hand around his cock. You noticed this and quickly removed it.

"If you want to cum so badly,you'll have to wait until I do,understand?" You pushed him against the bed again,leaving him to bite into a pillow.

You slammed into him relentlessly while blocking every plead to let him cum. The way the strap-on rubbed against you felt too good,he would get his release soon anyway.  You felt the pleasure in every single vein and muscle of your body,eager to escape once you climaxed. With one final slam,you finally had your orgasm,all of your senses overriding any rational thoughts. As you rode out your orgasm,slowly grinding against Nikolai,you accidentally pressed the odd button on one of the straps. You thought nothing of it but to your surprise, a muffled moan can be heard from beneath you.

Nikolai squealed as a hot liquid gushed into him,the sensation was too much. He writhed beneath you as his leaking cock shot out rope after rope onto your bed.

After that,you finally lie back and collect yourself. The teasing jester notices your lack of energy and frees himself from your grasp before trapping you in a sweaty embrace. You close your eyes and accept the hug.

"I guess it did work...your finally being  kind to m-" You felt a familiar sharp pain again. That idiot had bitten your other shoulder. Right then and there,you learned that some people would never change...

GUYS I DONT KNOW HOW TUMBLR WORKS,PLEASE TELL ME I FUCKING FORMATTED IT RIGHT.😭

[stu-dyingstudent]

Am I the only one that feels Himawari's power makes no sense?

Ok, so I've been (casually) reading the new Boruto chapters and I honestly hate the way the story is going. I just feel like the power jump in the characters during the time skip is too much. Specifically, Himawari's new powers kinda rub me the wrong way.

I know that it was sort of alluded to when Daemon mentioned something about her chakra being weird or whatever (I can't remember the exact exchange), but this just isn't enough for me. Before the time skip she had almost no ninja training except for some basic Hyuga katas. It makes sense that she would want to take her training more seriously with the dissolution of her family, but I think they made her too strong. We know she has been training with the new ino-shika-cho and is most likely living with the Hyuga clan now. However, when has the new gen ino-shika-cho ever proven themselves to be anything better than average? Even in the new chapters they did practically nothing, which makes sense considering their opponents. It would also make sense for her to be training under Hiashi and Hanabi now too, but we didn't see her utilize ANY Hyuga technique in the recent fights. Then, out of nowhere, she's suddenly able to tap into Kurama's power and apparently she's the "purest" jinchuriki out there or whatever and even goes as far as to use the bijuu bomb (???). The same power that is supposed to be one of the hardest things for a jinchuriki to achieve.

I know that the new generation is always going to be stronger than the old one, but there is no struggle. We see barely any of their training, they are all prodigies. There almost seems as if there are no limits to their abilities and it's frustrating. There is no character development and no build up to back up these advances.

Even Boruto, who is now insanely powerful and skilled, seems a bit too much for my taste. Sasuke tells Boruto that he's "taught [him] almost all" he knows. And this is within one year. I recognize that this is supposed to showcase how great Boruto is, but I can't help but find this as just straight up disrespectful to Sasuke's character. He is supposed to be one of the strongest shinobi of ALL TIME and Boruto comes in and is almost up to par with him after just a year.

Also, why are the jonin doing LITERALLY NOTHING????? Even the outfits, although drippy, are just entirely impractical for being a ninja. Ahhhhh maybe I'll make another post to continue my rant because every time I pick up Boruto again (because apparently I just "have to give it a chance"), I find myself annoyed.

[headchamberlain]

The confession of Ivan Goncharov.

TW: TWISTED religious imagery, excusing abuse and even calling it a blessing, unhealthy obsession, overall disturbing things.

In this I'll be trying to flesh out Ivan's character, why he's the way he is and how the lobotomy affects him today. This is written from his perspective. Take the tags seriously, please.

...

"IT ALL STARTED SO LONG AGO.

HOW LONG AGO? I CANT REMEMBER. I DONT NEED TO REMEMBER. ANYTHING BEFORE MEETING YOU IS INSIGNIFICANT. MY FAMILY... MY FRIENDS- IF I HAD ANY- THEY'RE INSIGNIFICANT NOW. NOTHING BUT SOMETHING I AM SUPPOSED TO HAVE, SUPPOSED TO CARE FOR. BUT THEY DONT UNDERSTAND ME. THEY DONT UNDERSTAND ME LIKE YOU DO, MASTER.

I WAS STRUGGLING. I COULDN'T CONTROL ANYTHING. NOT EVEN MY OWN LIFE. IT KEPT GOING DOWNHILL. I WAS HANGING ON- I HUNG ON BY A THREAD- BUT EVEN THEN I GAVE UP AND LET GO. I WAS SO LONELY. WHAT DID YOU SEE IN ME, MASTER? I WAS HOPELESS. I WAS WEAK. I'D LOST MY FAITH; IN FACT, I BELIEVED GOD HATED ME. I BELIEVED GOD JUST WANTED ME TO SUFFER FOR HIS ENTERTAINMENT. BUT THAT WAS UNTIL YOU CAME. YOU OFFERED ME A HAND. YOU SAID I HAD THE POTENTIAL TO BECOME MORE THAN WHAT I AM. I DIDN'T BELIEVE YOU. YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD A WAY TO FIX ME- TO MAKE SURE I NEVER FELT THOSE HIDEOUS, HORRIBLE EMOTIONS AGAIN. I WAS INTERESTED. I TOOK YOUR HAND. YOUR HAND WAS SO COLD, MASTER... BUT IT WAS SO WARM. YOUR FINGERS WERE BONY AND THIN. YOU WERE SO PALE. YOU WERE SO TIRED. I COULD TELL YOU WERE WEAK, TOO. BUY YOU WERE FAR FROM THAT.

A SURGERY, YOU SAID. A SURGERY THAT WOULD MAKE ME HAPPY AGAIN. FOREVER. I TOLD YOU THAT WAS INSANE. I TOLD YOU THAT WOULD BE HORRIBLE. BUT YOU TOLD ME TO THINK ABOUT IT. WOULD I GET THIS CHANCE AGAIN? WOULD MY LIFE EVER GET BETTER? YOU WERE A MESSENGER FROM GOD, I REALISED. YOU HAD ANGELS AT YOUR HAND, WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. WHY ME, I ASKED? WHY AM I BEING CHOSEN TO BE BLESSED? WHY IS A PIECE OF FILTH LIKE ME CAPABLE OF HAVING THIS KINDNESS? BECAUSE, YOU TOLD ME, THAT YOU SPOKE WITH GOD. AND GOD SAID HE NEEDED ME TO LIVE.

YOU ARE A BLESSING, MASTER. YOU REALLY ARE. I COULD WORSHIP YOU. I COULD WORSHIP EVERYTHING YOU DO. IF I DIED I WOULD WANT TO DIE WORSHIPPING YOU. PEOPLE TOLD ME I WAS INSANE, THAT I WOULD GO TO HELL FOR WORSHIPPING YOU, BUT I KNEW THEY WERE WRONG. THEY HADN'T HAD A CHANCE TO MEET YOU. YOU ARE EVERYTHING TO ME. PEOPLE DON'T UNDERSTAND YOUR ACTIONS LIKE I DO, MASTER. PEOPLE SAID WHAT YOU DID WAS EVIL; SUCH HENIOUS CRIMES, THEY WOULD SAY. BUT IS DESTRUCTION AND WAR REALLY A SIN? IS IT NOT CONSIDERED RIGHTEOUS? WHEN THE ANGELS CAME DOWN WITH TRUMPETS TO DESTROY THE EARTH, WAS IT NOT GOD'S WILL? WAS IT NOT HIS WILL TO TURN THE RIVERS AND LAKES TO BLOOD, TO UNLEASH DEMONS THAT SPOKE BLASPHEMOUS THINGS? YOU ARE RE-CONSTRUCTING THE EARTH. WHEN BUILDINGS FALL AND BURN, WHEN PEOPLE DIE, YOU ARE DOING IT TO FREE THE WORLD OF SIN. WHEN GOD FLOODED THE EARTH THAT IS WHAT HE DID. HE PROMISED HE WOULDN'T DO IT AGAIN, SO HE SENT YOU INSTEAD. EVEN GOD'S LOVE HAS LIMITS.

AFTER MY SURGERY, I WAS TERRIFIED, MASTER. I WAS TERRIFIED. I PICKED UP A PEN; BUT NOTHING CAME TO MIND. I COULDN'T WRITE. I COULDN'T READ. I SOBBED, MASTER, I SOBBED; BUT I SOBBED WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. WASN'T MY VOICE SO BEAUTIFUL? WASN'T IT BEAUTIFUL THAT I CHOKED AND SOBBED IN THE PRESENCE OF THE LORD? WASN'T IT BEAUTIFUL HOW I COULDN'T GET A WORD OUT, HOW FAT TEARS ROLLED DOWN MY CHEEKS AND STAINED THE CARPET? YOU WEREN'T ANGRY AT ME. YOU BLESSED ME AGAIN, MASTER. YOU BLESSED ME WITH PURPOSE; I LEARNED EVERYTHING FOR YOU. I LEARNED HOW TO COOK, I LEARNED HOW TO CLEAN, I LEARNED YOUR TASTES. WHAT KIND OF TEA YOU LIKE, WHAT FABRICS YOU PREFER, HOW WARM YOU WANT YOUR BATH. I LEARNED EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU AND I MEMORIZED IT. THAT IS MY ONLY PURPOSE, MASTER, TO SERVE YOU.

I WELCOMED EACH BLESSING YOU GAVE ME; I WELCOMED THE BRUISES YOU GAVE ME, I WELCOMED THEM ALL. I WANT YOU TO HIT ME ALL YOU WANT AND THEN KISS THE BRUISES AFTERWARDS. I WANT YOU TO TEAR ME APART AND SAY SORRY AFTERWARDS, EVEN IF I KNOW YOU DON'T MEAN IT, EVEN IF I KNOW YOU'LL DO IT AGAIN. OVER AND OVER.

IS IT SO WRONG FOR ME TO BE YOUR TOY? IS IT REALLY SO WRONG? IS IT SO WRONG FOR ME TO BE YOUR SOURCE OF ENTERTAINMENT? BEING GOD'S FAVOURITE COMES WITH RESPONSIBILITIES. GOD NEEDS SOMEONE TO HURT, SOMEONE TO TOY WITH, SOMEONE TO RUIN.

AREN'T I BEAUTIFUL, MASTER? PLEASE SAY I'M BEAUTIFUL. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME. TELL ME YOU LOVE ME AND ILL BE BEGGING FOR YOUR ATTENTION LIKE A DOG.

PLEASE LOOK AT ME MASTER. PLEASE LOVE ME. I LOVE YOU MASTER. PLEASE LOOK AT ME. PLEASE LOOK AT ME, I'M BEGGING YOU, MASTER, DONT STOP BEING MY SAVIOR. DON'T STOP BEING THE ONE PERSON I RELY ON. I CANT FUNCTION WITHOUT YOU. I KNOW YOU SO MUCH IVE FORGOTTEN EVERYTHING ABOUT MYSELF. I DON'T HAVE MY OWN ROUTINE, MY LIFE REVOLVES AROUND YOU. I CANT LEAVE YOU EVEN IF I WAS GIVEN A CHANCE TO, BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.

IM YOUR PERFECT SACRIFICAL LAMB. MY WOOL IS SO PURE AND WHITE AND FLUFFY AND SOFT. WHEN THEY LEAD ME TO YOU THEY DONT HAVE TO TIE ME DOWN- I HOLD PERFECTLY STILL WITH A SMILE ON MY FACE. AS THE KNIFE DIGS INTO ME MY INTESTINES SPILL OUT SO BEAUTIFULLY AND CLEANLY AND IT STAINS MY PRETTY WOOL RED. WHEN I DIE YOU REVIVE ME AGAIN AND YOU TELL ME IM YOUR FAVOURITE. YOU DONT REVIVE THE OTHER LAMBS BECAUSE IM YOUR FAVOURITE. I TROT ALONG SO HAPPILY BECAUSE IM YOUR FAVOURITE. IM SO PURE LIKE A PORCELAIN DOLL LIKE A FLOWER LIKE AN ANGEL THAT LOST ITS WINGS.

PLEASE LOOK AT ME MASTER.

PLEASE."

... -Written by Kiji!!!

If you've actually read all of this; I'm proud!

[mabelstone]

Undressed

matt stone x reader

your classmate needs tutoring, but theres only one way to keep his attention.

18+

this is my favourite trope ever (they're both of age!!)

arrogant/cocky matt <333

Your classmate, Matt, was bright. Like, insanely smart. From what you understood, he was getting straight A's in every subject, which was why you were so confused when he asked you to study with him. Turns out, he was failing english by a lot.

"You're serious?" You laughed in his face, expression dropping when he folded his arms, deadpan. "Oh, you are serious."

"You owe me," he retorted matter-of-factly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You wouldn't have passed math without me."

"Fine," you huffed, defeated by the stupid look on his face. "Then we're even."

"Sure, if that makes you feel better."

So here you were. Patiently awaiting his arrival with The Crucible by Arthur Miller sprawled on your desk, filled with a thousand sticky notes and a practice quiz you'd made for him.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when your bedroom door swung open, revealing the arrogant, gangly boy from class.

"Jesus christ, you nearly gave me a heart attack," you gasped, already annoyed with him. He set his bag onto the floor and made himself comfortable on your bed, giving you nothing more than a shrug. "How'd you get in?"

"Your mom let me in," he raised an eyebrow as if you should've known. "I see where you get your looks from."

You cursed yourself for the blush that spread across your cheeks, rolling your eyes before grabbing the mock exam.

"Shoes off," you grumbled, earning a groan from Matt. "Okay, did you read the book or not?"

"I did, it was just painfully, painfully boring."

You situated yourself beside him, eyes bashfully wandering over his body. Toned arms holding himself up, the light brown happy trail exposed as his shirt rode up. Beautiful auburn curls that took the attention away from that breathtaking face. God, that nose.

"Well, no shit. I made you an exam buster to see what we need to work on." You handed him the paper for him to look over, but instead, he just stared blankly at you. "Don't give me that look. Just give it a try."

"Fine," he sighed, laying back on your bed with his hands behind his head. "Go ahead."

"Okay. Question one; how is Salem governed?"

"What? I don't fucking know?"

"Theocracy. Question two; why did Elizabeth fire Abigail?"

"She was a whore," he laughed, earning an eye roll from you. "What? She was."

"Why aren't you taking this seriously?" You pouted, folding your arms over your chest. God, you really were like your mother.

"Look, dude, the whole tutor thing is really doing it for me, but this is stupid. I'm bored already."

"Then how do you suggest I make this more interesting?"

This prick. You were trying to do something nice for him. But he was always, always so damn hard to please.

"You could take your clothes off," he suggested, sitting up to face you now.

"What? Take my clothes off?" You laughed, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze as he scanned our figure. "Can you be serious for five seconds?"

"I am being serious," he continued to undress you with his eyes, not ashamed in the slightest. "If you take your clothes off, I'll be more inclined to try harder."

You pondered for a moment, watching your mums car pull out of the driveway right on queue. It had to be a sign.

"Fine," you finally decided, standing to lock your door. "And if you get a question wrong?"

"Then- then I'll take my clothes off. Deal?"

He had that same smug look you'd grown so familiar with, except this time, it sent a jolt of electricity straight to your heat.

"Deal," you grinned, snatching the mock exam off the bed as he repositioned himself against your pillows. "I can't wait to see you in nothing but your socks while I'm putting on extra layers."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. This could be my favourite book." He grinned up at you, making you question if him failing was all just a rouse to get in your pants. It was working.

"Okay, smartass. What does Mrs. Putnam blame the death of her children on?"

"Easy, witchcraft," he answered fast, responding to a text on his phone before gesturing with his hand. "Why don't you take your shirt off first." Still, eyes glued to his phone.

Frustration at his attitude rose within you, but was soon overloaded with excitement as you followed his request, throwing your shirt at him. "Off your phone. No cheating."

He dropped his phone on his chest and threw his hands up in defence, eyes raking over your chest. "Cute bra. Take it off next."

"No, that's not how this works." You rolled your eyes for the hundredth time, it was like a reflex when you were around him. "What commandment does John Proctor forget when Reverent Hale questions him?"

"Uh... thou shall not kill?"

"Uh-uh. Shirt off, thanks."

You stared as he sighed, sitting up to pull his shirt over his head, throwing in on the floor before your feet, laying back where he was now. He was quite thin, but toned. Big, broad shoulders with prominent collarbones. That happy trail alone almost made you fold.

"Okay," you swallowed thickly before continuing, "why can't Elizabeth be hanged if found guilty?"

"She's pregnant," he smiled wide as your expression dropped. He was totally pulling your leg, he had to have been pretending to not know the answers. "Take your underwear off before your skirt. And chuck 'em here."

"You're a creep," you huffed, obliging nevertheless. You slipped them off from under your skirt, flinging them in his direction. You couldn't suppress the shaky breath that escaped you when he pocketed them.

Just as you opened your mouth, Matt cut you off. "I'll ask you one now. What happens to John at the end?"

"He's hanged," you laughed at his poor attempt to catch you out. "For that, take off your pants."

"Fair," he grinned, standing to pull off his pants, revealing a sizeable tent forming in his briefs.

He towered over you, eyes shamelessly wandering your frame, that gapped toothed smile that made you queasy on full display. His fingers grazed your waist, goosebumps forming under his light touch. You grabbed his wrist and gently pushed him back onto the bed by his chest.

"That bra comes off next," he commanded, eyelids hooding as he gazed up at you.

You nodded, offering, "if you get this right, you can take it off for me."

He nodded eagerly, a wet patch now formed on the front of his briefs.

"What did Parris catch his daughter doing in act one?"

"Dancing, right?"

You nodded meekly, stepping in between his legs. His eyes lit up as he reached around your back, slender fingers unclipping your bra with ease. You slipped it off, dropping it into his lap.

The quietest profanity fell from his lips, pupils fully blown at this point. You grabbed his wrist and guided it to your breast, the warmth of hand making you shiver in contrast to the cold air of your bedroom.

"What's Parris' position in Salem?" Your voice was softer than before, heart beginning to race under his touch, and he could no doubt feel it.

"Who gives a fuck." He grabbed your hips, pulling you down to straddle him, smashing his lips into yours.

"I'm sorry, that's incorrect," you mumbled against his lips, fingers hooking into the band of his briefs.

He chuckled deeply, tapping your waist for you to stand up. He pulled his briefs off while you discarded your skirt, grabbing you by the wrist before pulling you back onto him. He brought his fingers to your lips for you to spit, before lathering it over his length. He then dipped his fingers into your heat, collecting your wetness before doing the same with it.

"Thank you for helping me study- very effective." He grinned, lining himself up with your hole. He slid into you forcefully, both of you gasping in unison. His hands found their way to your ass, fingers digging into the plush skin hard, urging you to bounce faster in time with his thrusts.

"God, like that," he groaned, one of his hands grabbing the back of your neck, connecting your lips again. His kisses were rough, messy. Tongue exploring the expanse of your mouth, his teeth digging into your lip occasionally, struggling to keep your lips locked with the rapid pace he was fucking you at.

He flipped you onto your back, hands still pawing at your ass. Catching you completely off guard, he lifted you off the bed with him, slamming your back into the wall. He continued his pace, using one hand to brush your hair from your face.

"Matt," his name; a warning, escaped your lips in a whimper, your forehead falling against his as you reached your peak embarrassingly fast.

"Tha's it, good girl," he coaxed as you came down, legs trembling around his waist, mouth uncomfortably dry from panting.

"Fuck," he warned you this time, picking you up even higher, pulling out before shooting hot ribbons all over your chests and stomachs. Exhausted, you both stood there panting momentarily, your harms draping his shoulders as you rested your forehead against his. He set you down on the bed before collapsing beside you.

You hadn't even finished the game you were playing, both still in your socks.

He strung his arm over your sticky waist, breaking the silence.

"Now we're even."

[ctadiablotin]

POSSIBLE SPOILERS ? don't read it you aren't at all familiar with iwtv/how it ends and are going into the rest of the season blind.

guys hear me out what if in the show the whole igniting fire thing between louis and armand and how it's decided louis starts fires from anger like wHAT IF HE JUST PUTS THE THEATRE INTO FLAMES WHEN CLAUDIA DIES ???? no need for kerosine, no need for a candle to light the fire, like he does it all himself out of the insane rage he feels for loosing claudia. 2x04 made it seem like louis doesn't remember the fire, what if he thinks claudia just like ran away?? i'm sure he knows claudia is dead but,,,, he definitely doesn't know that armand knew what the coven was planning and allowed for claudia's death to happen (i might be wrong about that i've only watched the 90s movie and read a bunch of fanfic, i haven't read the books yet) ?? and what if armand made louis forget about the fire because he doesn't want louis to remember the consequences/ability of his rage being able to burn down the theatre, and he doesn't want louis to realize the power he has ??? i dunno. but with all the fire stuff they did this last episode i am seriously suspecting that louis is gonna burn that bitch of a theatre down all on his own 🦹‍♀️🦹‍♀️🦹‍♀️🦹‍♀️🧛🏻🧛🏻

additional thought i had while doing the tags, yknow the part in the new trailer where some of the apartment crumbles around daniel, what if that's the moment that louis finds out the truth about the fire and about claudia ?? and then louis and armand brawl 🦹‍♀️🦹‍♀️