#maybe I SHOULD take a class in religion in college

[violexides]

every day i sit and i go man. i wish people were normal about religion 

[junkissed]

love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now. 

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[asexual-disaster]

‼️FHJY EP 3 SPOILERS‼️

all my thoughts of episode three

AS PER MURPH LOOKS SO GOOD

as does lou

Riz literally biking to school with everyone’s files to make sure they can make it through the year !! stop he’s so cute

and then you and Adaine are nerds

actually for the wizards I’m super chill

riz literally finding out what college they could all get into!!!

figs multiclassing appears to be undocumented, how would her bard teacher know that she multiclassed if she never goes to class

me and riz would write three essays each

the lone wolf. his record is not as bad as it should be

‘i cast friends on both of you just to get you in the car’

‘it’s a 10 and i’ll give you the help action’

‘fluffier than mine?’

LYDIA IS MY LOVE, MY FAVOURITE MORHER (except u sklonda)

‘you guys missed this, song of the summer! kids are going nuts’ ‘this emo song starts over the radio’ proceeds to play the hardest song i’ve heard in ages

riz making adaine her own folder for fun that he signed inside ,, i will sob over this little goblin

a dragon with a receding hairline

the thistlespring sex binder stop

gorgug is such an awkward little guy

fabian not knowing how to make food, stop my baby has been abandoned

‘a little hobgoblin with a brass lollipop’

sorcery teacher jace, i would die for you. ur the teacher i would fancy in school

big shoes to follow

figs bad luck continues

‘should we sign up for student government? there’s gotta be a cabinet right?’

mazey is a highland cow stop i love her

stop she’s a dancer, was she at the camp fabian was meant to be at??

‘oh you’re in the buttcrushers?’

she’s worse than kalvaxus

badidas

FABIAN IS OLDER BECAUSE HE WAS ADVENTURING WITH HIS DAD??

‘that would impact you as well’ ‘yeah’

‘i’m going to go to bard class, you’re going to love this, but not as myself’

im going to cast disguise self on myself to look like an emo girly

wanda childa

here girlie

porter is hot shut up

gorgug getting told he can’t do the mcats because he’s a barbarian. basically being told he’s not smart enough to do artificer classes because he’s inherently stronger, angrier and ‘less smart’ stop

im going into a worry

fig taking fabian to a wizard class because she doesn’t know where bard classes are

‘fabian, you said something alarming and it made me curious’

riz’s entire interaction with jawbone

Kristen chillis applebees

KRISTENS BROTHER

the way it’s never really spoken about how kristen, as the oldest, protected her younger brothers from her parents but she’s been gone a long time and she’s now seeing that. behavioural pattern continued to them treating her oldest younger brother the same she was treated

BUD CUBBY STICKING UP FOR KRISTEN BY TELLING HER PARENTS THEYRE AWFUL PEOPLE STOPPP

‘a hard couple months?’ ‘in the dark? where’s your god? he’s the sun god right?’

‘that’s what you think’ ‘bye girlie’

adaine realising she can’t even afford her school supplies now is so sad

‘what smell would be enticing to emo kids? maybe cigarettes and peach schnapps’

i just wanda’d in

they’re investigating all of figs disguises???

figs agent is rubens agent too fuck off

kristen adhd confirmed

also kristen deflecting all of her trauma with humour is so sad

‘maybe i could just have a tiny little religion of weirdos who wanna gamble’

cassandra i love you but kristen is a literal child

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN CASSANDRA IS WITH KALINA

[goldeneyedgirl]

Twilight Advent Calendar Day 5

Dec. 5 - What is each Cullen's favorite college major so far? What new major should they try someday?

Carlisle's favorite: Neurology. I think that Carlisle is someone who connects his faith and his medical practice together, and learning about the brain from a medical standpoint would have fascinated him. I see him studying this in Europe in the late 1700s/early 1800s, and then again in the very early 1980s.

Try someday: I'm going to say Pediatric Oncology. He's never specialized in children's medicine before, and the oncology specialty is particularly difficult because of the amount of loss associated with the department. But if he can use his abilities and lifetime of skills to get one child diagnosis or treatment a little bit sooner, then it's worth it. But the emotional toll would affect his family, so he hasn't tried yet.

Oh, or something revolving around English History, with a specific focuses on religion's role. He'd like to examine that part of his past from an analytical and academic perspective.

-

Esme's favorite: Interior Architecture. It's one thing to decorate a room, which Esme enjoys, but it's a totally different thing to build the room from scratch to capture a specific kind of light, and be a specific shape, accentuate the sound of Edward's piano, and work with the movements and behaviours of her family. She just loves how she gets to create this sanctuary from nothing. And getting to explore that across residential and commercial spaces was magical to her. It's also one of those degrees she gets to use regularly.

Try someday: Languages. Like the rest of the family, she can speak quite a few, but she'd love to go back and get a formal qualification so that she could do translation work professionally. Esme always seeks out her favourite books in foreign editions to compare the translations, and would love to work on book translations.

-

Edward's favorite: Music. It's his passion, and he loves to be able to study it so in depth, and get feedback from an academic and practical perspective from someone with a similar interest and passion. Carlisle insists he can only study music once every two decades to encourage diverse interests and prevent a connection being made between identities, so he really savors it when he gets to study it again.

Try someday: Family Law. As as a way to honour his biological father, but Edward has no use for more money or fighting for the prestige in law school, so he likes Family Law the best. It would also come in handy for the Cullens' cover story, and with his gift he believes he could make sure children are protected. Realistically, though, he would only get away with practicing for a year or two, so he keeps putting it off. With the rise in video conferencing and online consultations, though, there's potential for the future.

-

Rosalie's favorite: Nothing will ever take away the joy and pride Rosalie felt graduating from her very first Engineering degree. It's the one degree she prizes over the others because she was one of the first girls allowed in the program, and she graduated with honours (second place in the class because the school didn't want controversy, but Rose knows they fudged the grades.)

Try someday: Either Social Work or Early Childhood. Rosalie would love to advocate for women, especially those struggling, but she also recognises her bad temper would probably make a mess of the situation. Maybe one day. Early Childhood is more likely; it sounds wonderful but it's still hard - a little easier after Renesmee, but something she's working towards in the future.

-

Emmett's favorite: Video game design - he loved every aspect of that because it was such a great mix of hardcore coding and computer work combined with more creative aspects. He also loved the diverse applications of it, and explaining how it was valuable for medicine and engineering. His final project was technically a failure because it ran too fast and the controllers were buggy according to his professors, but it was also the first vampire-speed video game to be made and he still adds levels to it every so often.

Try someday: Emmett puts a bunch of degrees that sound mildly interesting or really weird in a hat and draws one out each time. He claims that this creates diverse interests and keeps him on his toes. He just loves the looks at his family's faces when he announces that he'll be tackling a degree in Turfgrass Science or Amusement Park Engineering. Gunsmithing and Surf Science have both caught his eye, though.

-

Alice's favorite: The very first fashion design degree she ever took. She went from being a girl that stole most of her clothing and wore them until they were destroyed, to learning how to choose fabric, how to draw patterns, cut and sew her own clothes. She learnt about designers, about how fashion shaped society, and it allowed Alice to build herself up from nothing - clothing is such a comfort to her, and being able to make it from scratch is just another level of security.

Try someday: Finance Law. It would be useful for her own wheelings and dealings, since most of her education in finance is from the 50s and 60s night school, playing the stock market, and what she gets from her visions. Having a formal degree in that area would also streamline a lot of stuff for the family. It's just so dry, Alice keeps putting it off. And yes, there would be major Elle Woods vibes if she gets around to it.

-

Jasper's favorite: Philosophy. The boy does love a little bit of navel gazing and contemplation about humanity as a concept. It's helped him deal with a lot of things that happened in his past, and the choices that he made, as well as how to move forward. He loves getting out the old books and sinking into them for days; it's the only study area where he's actually worked as an online professor.

Try someday: Forensic Psychology. Jasper would love to understand what makes people tick, especially abnormal ones. He would love to understand how he became such a monster, and if it was inevitable or if there was a trigger. And he would really enjoy figuring out the motivations behind crimes. Everything about Forensic Psychology appeals to the strategic side of him.

-

Bella's favorite: English literature. Bella loves it. She loves classic novels, and getting to study them is a dream. She loves discussing them in depth with other people who are just as passionate about them, and examining the difference in language and media portrayals, as well as the reflections from the author's real lives. She gets to shut herself up with a stack of her favourites, write about them, and get graded on her thoughts. It's perfect.

Try someday: Education or publishing. I think Bella would enjoy teaching literature to high school students, especially at a selective school where the kids were high achievers and invested in their education. She'd be a deadly serious English teacher, maybe even aim for a year or two teaching at a college-level. Or I could see her going into media to get into publishing and editing, allowing her to commit extensive time into reading, but also helping shape future books.

[nonegenderleftpain]

this is maybe very hopeful, but i still find it in me to send an ask, hoping for the best... i hope to not waste too much of your time with this

as someone who is possibly thinking of converting to Judaism, what is the first step?

i know, i should look for a rabbi, for a group, for just... something. to connect me to the culture, but i grew up in an incredibly sheltered household, in a small town, christian, and i still dont have solid income to look out for them far and wide... honestly, I'm kind of afraid that if i dont end up going through with the conversion, I'll just feel guilty for wasting people's time for my own personal gain (as opposed to...... their gain? yeah. its impossible to tell wether that one makes sense)

im pretty sure i have met exactly one Jewish person IRL and that's not a stretch.

so, basically, when im asking for the first step here, what i really mean is, how do i know where the stairs are?

and i dont have a super philosophical reason as to why i even think of converting in the first place. i guess i just need a place where my first crime won't be my humanity.

So I've sat on this all day trying to figure out how to be elegant. I'm in a fair bit of pain today, so elegance is kind of beyond me - I'll settle for helpful.

Anon, I grew up in a really similar situation to you. I grew up in one of the few Catholic towns in my very protestant area. It was a tiny farm town, only on the map for gambling, and I lived in an incredibly sheltered home. I couldn't be on the internet unsupervised, and my parents turned it off at 10pm, until the day I left home. I never had time to form a community, was not allowed to ask questions, and struggled with constant feelings of fear and crushing oppression by a church I no longer believed in.

When I was in highschool, I discovered LaVeyan Satanism, got my hands on the satanic bible, and converted, largely hiding it for years. I didn't meet a Jew until I left for college, and was so anti-Gd that we never really spoke (Not due to antisemitism - any engagement with religion triggered religious trauma history, so I couldn't be around ANYONE openly practicing any religion. It was a very stressful time, and I carry a lot of guilt for not engaging with her more.)

I didn't have any big philosophical reasons for seeking Judaism, either, at first. I had had a very spiritual experience in the Cherokee Nation with a family friend who invited us, and I was actually considering moving there and taking part in their religious practices as much as they would allow me to, as a white person. My family friend was a religious leader there and was willing to accept me and bring me in, but it never panned out. I have been seeking that same spiritual connection for years, but I didn't really know it until I found it again.

I first started learning about Judaism when I just. Kept running into Jews in my life. Online, in community spaces, through my advocacy work. And I asked myself "what is so important about this?" and picked up the book To Life! by Rabbi Harold Kushner. Immediately, I was enthralled, and I have not stopped being amazed and overjoyed with what I've found.

For me, the first step to really learning more was reaching out to my local Reform congregation. I'm not sure if you're thinking of converting Reform or not, but I'd suggest starting there, because I've found it's been very easy to find my footing as a queer person with a fraught religious background. The Union for Reform Judaism - the largest North American movement of Reform Jews - offers Intro to Judaism classes once a semester (many congregations require these courses for conversion). The classes lay out the very basics of Jewish values, history, and practices. They're usually taught by local rabbis - my course this semester on Jewish history has two classes with each of the four Reform rabbis in my city. This is a great way to get to know the rabbis, see how they teach, and see who you click with. It will also allow you to interact with other folks that are new to Judaism - Jews that want to learn more about their heritage and practices, prospective converts, friends and family members of practicing Jews, and sometimes just people interested in theology!

Once you find a rabbi that you click with, you'll want to reach out to them and set up a meeting (I meet personally with my rabbi on Zoom, because transportation is difficult for me as a disabled person). During that meeting, you can tell the rabbi your story, your level of interest, and answer some of their questions, as well. My Rabbi asked me why I chose Judaism as opposed to something else, and really dug into my resolve, because I came to him expressing my desire to convert. This is pretty normal - antisemitism is on the rise in the US and around the world, so they want to make sure you understand what you're taking on by seeking Judaism.

Here's the thing about Judaism - it is not something you can do alone. Judaism is a tribe and a people, not just a religion. I do not say this to dissuade you. If anything, I want to encourage you. No one is going to be upset with you if you come, participate with sincerity and earnestness, and then decide that it's not for you. You will not be wasting anyone's time by asking questions and learning things.

I also grew up Christian. We were taught that asking questions is a sign of a lack of faith. That we must follow and believe and never question Gd. I am here to tell you that that is the complete opposite of what Judaism not just expects, but requires. Israel means "to struggle with Gd." It is our job as Jews to struggle with the Torah and what it asks of us. To question it and interpret it and find out how to do good in the world. To disagree. This is not a religion of blind faith, and it is not a people that will silence your questions.

So I suppose the concise answer to your question is more of a checklist:

Research your local synagogues. See if you can attend one of their services online. See if you like the rabbi, like the way they talk and the things they say and the way they interpret the texts. See if you like the cantor, and if the way they chant helps you with your connection to the service or detracts from it. Take notes of any questions or concerns you have, so you can bring it to the rabbi.

Contact your local rabbi. If there is more than one congregation where you live, choose which seems most approachable for you to start with. On their congregation's website, there should be an email form that will take you to them, or to whomever runs their site, who will be able to put you in contact.

Set up a meeting with your rabbi. If you can go in person, that's great, but if you get anxious easily, Zoom can be really helpful. I recently even got my rabbi to join Discord. Bring them your questions. Tell them why you're there. Answer their questions honestly, and don't be afraid to tell them you're nervous. I promise you're not the first prospective convert they've spoken to.

Try to get into an Intro to Judaism class. You can ask questions about all different sects of Judaism, even if you're taking classes with the URJ, and a good rabbi will be able to give you cursory answers and resources to find more information. If Reform doesn't work for you, I'm sure that the other sects of Judaism have their own classes you can take. As a convert, I have not had to pay for my classes, and I think that's a national thing

Attend services. Don't be afraid to not know what's going on. Don't be concerned that you don't know Hebrew. Don't worry about them thinking you don't belong there. I still haven't formalized my conversion (I haven't been able to schedule my beit din), but my congregation considers me a member, and recently formalized my membership in our organization. They consider me a Jew, as much as I consider myself one. I am part of their family, even though I'm very new and know almost nothing.

And most importantly:

6. Keep reading. There are lifetimes of Jewish literature, information, and text out there. Jews keep extensive and detailed records of everything. When a Jew has an opinion, they write a book. And every Jew has opinions. I'm happy to give book recommendations, but this post has gone on far too long.

I know it's not a simple answer - there really isn't one. Conversion looks different for everyone, and takes different amounts of time for everyone. So does practice. I don't keep kosher but I give blessings over what I eat, even if it doesn't follow kashrut, because the blessing and gratitude is what is holy for me (and because I have dietary issues). I haven't hung mezuzot because I can't afford them, but I wear kippot because the visual reminder of the cultural and historical throughline of our people matters to me. I don't know Yiddish or much Hebrew, but I learn and ask questions and am enjoying immersing myself in a culture and ritual that I didn't know I needed.

I hope this is at all helpful. If you need or want personal help with any of these steps, please, please send me a DM and I will help you. I know it can be nervewracking to talk about religion, especially as an ex-Christian. I promise that my inbox is a safe space to discuss it. You're among friends, and I know your struggle.

Stay well, and may Hashem bless your journey, wherever it leads.

[rainingmbappe]

This is amazing because I’ve been listening to the destroyer of world (ost form Oppenheimer today) and I had this sudden urge to learn everything i could about space, feeling so little and insignificant. Feeling like a tiny speck of dust amongst what is and what could be. What amazes me more than « what is already there » is the things «that could be », and the things we haven’t discovered yet. I do not know any fancy science words, i do not study science in college, but it is something that always moved me to tears from the youngest age. Stumbling onto a random NASA rocket landing when I was just a little child changed the trajectory of my life and clicked something in my brain. When I tell you it is something stronger than emotions, I cry so easily when I watch documentaries, not because I’m sad to be so insignificant, I cry because of the frustration of knowing that I won’t make it alive until we’ve discovered everything, and neither will my potential children be. I will cease to live eventually, and maybe some stars will die at the same time. And what I used to know will probably be refuted, and humanity will go further. I love science and I love humans.

First off, I love you so much, Anon. I love you for talking about this to ME. For giving ME a chance to talk about this.

I was in physics class when my teachers phone started ringing. It was destroyer of worlds from Oppenheimer. I was writing notes when it happened and anon. The WAY my head snapped up when I heard it. As I was getting so freaking excited to talk about the movie with my teacher, I noticed how no one around me seemed to care or notice. I mean, it was pretty loud, so I assumed that they just didn't care. I don't understand how. Oppenheimer is the best science related movie I've watched recently. It changed my life. It reminded me to wonder again.

I understand you to a caliber that no one understands me. The things that could be. That's what keeps me up at night. Things that already ARE and we are not aware of. Oh, that drives me closer to insanity every fucking day. This is going to sound cliché but watching interstellar changed the trajectory of MY life. It lit a dwindling fire I didn't know I had in me. I'm studying science now, and I have unapologetically made it my personality, haha. I mean. How can you not?? I could talk about the wonders of this weird little universe that we're trying to figure out, for absolute eternity.

Anon. I kid you not, I was talking about this with my friend YESTERDAY. About how celebrities dying is sad and musicians dying is sadder. But absolutely NOTHING is sadder than a scientist dying and never knowing the leaps that were made in their field. Let's take the man who changed my perception of absolutely everything forever, Carl Sagan. I genuinely thought that he passed away around 2015 or something. When I found out that that man left us in 1996, I instantly had tears streaming down my face. I have spent so soo many hours of my life watching his lectures and talks on YouTube. I have read so many of his books. I've watched the very old TV programs that he did. The way he talked, the way he conveyed his knowledge, the way he saw humanity for what it was, and what it would become. Years and years before, any of us saw it. He talked about it all. I genuinely thought that he was alive for the things he was talking about. Politics, religion, the future of science, global warming, you name it. He was years ahead of any of us. The fact that the person who made me infatuated with this magnificent world is no more to see the wonders we have achieved makes me just so unbelievably mournful.

I don't know if you know this anon but. My first love in science was and is biology. I don't talk nearly enough about the thing that amazes me the most and beyond any human terminology. I don't think I should even get into the wonders of beloved biology because I'd genuinely never stop. I just want to say how my world only revolves around magnificent wonders so humongous that it's beyond human perception and paradoxically enough, breathtakingly mcroscopic things that are very well beyond our perception too.

Anon, please come off anon so that we can talk forever about this. Or don't. But please don't stop sending asks. I could always talk endlessly more. You seem to very graciously let me indulge in my fanatic talks 😭🫶🏽

I love science and I love humans too.

Edit : fuck it I'm pinning this

[randadrives]

Blog 1

For a long time, I always said I wasn’t creative. In my mind, creativity meant being vulnerable, and I was afraid to be seen. I had a heavy appreciation for the creativity of others. I spent my childhood with a book in hand constantly, and I loved googling different artists (did anyone else go through the Rene Magritte/Salvador Dali phase at 13?), as well as going to street festivals to look at the jewelry people made by hand. I would go home and write about the things I saw, write about my experiences, and keep all my “notebooks” (because I couldn’t call them journals) as secret as possible, standing by my idea that I was logical, and smart, but absolutely not creative. I was convinced I was not blessed with that specific gift as my sisters were, not realizing until much later in life that often creativity is a practice, not something a person is just given.

Meanwhile, there I was most of my life practicing the creativity of writing and just never letting anyone see it. I carried my notebooks around from move to move, apartment to house, over and over like I was afraid to lose that part of me. Two years ago, I made the decision to start letting go of the past. To start that process, I re-read each notebook, took notes on it for my therapy sessions, and with each one finished I burned them in a barrel in the backyard. At the time it did feel quite therapeutic, if not dramatic. My notes outlined how early my anxiety could be seen manifesting, when my depression started, my struggle with religion at a young age, negativity, and much deeper emotions as the years went on. I was forced to look in the face of life events that I had decided to bury deep down. Therapy was starting to make more sense. All the times before my dear therapist, who I will call “Rebecca,” would say “feel your feelings, sit with your feelings” I couldn’t comprehend how to do that. Doing this practice made it start to click, though I still struggle and have to make myself really stop and feel, as miserable as it might be. No one said therapy was an easy process!

At this time, I was going through some major life decisions. Not only was I dredging up my past in my therapy sessions on a weekly basis, but I was also debating with myself on leaving my career, and I had just transitioned out of the Air Force Reserves. I was trying to find a hobby, as well as wondering what I could do with my future if I wasn’t tied to the job I had chosen that sucked up all of my energy, time, and compassion. I thought maybe I should try something I haven’t done before. Something creative? I attempted to try to start a blog, as well as took up a noncredit photography class online through a local college. Both of those things I felt terribly unskilled with, and one of my domineering personality traits is I HATE to be bad at something. So, I didn’t continue, but kept saying out loud when people would ask: “I’m going to start a blog! I got a camera and am going to start taking photos!” There was some hope, albeit a small amount. I figured maybe the more I said it, the more I would convince myself to just start already. All these people already knew what my intentions were! I told myself over and over to let myself be bad at it, practice more, and maybe I’ll eventually get better. That was a year and a half ago, all the way up until now. These things take time, right?

Part of my struggle to commit was a theme. Every blog I’ve come across has been a niche that I didn’t feel connected to, or convinced me the market is saturated and what quality do I possibly have to contribute to this? There are 600 million blogs currently. I kept a running list in the Notes app on my phone of what I was interested in writing about: women in the military, travel, books, my 30’s, women’s safety, being child-free, books, post-DD214 life. All of which has been done before! But it’s taken me this long to remind myself I don’t write to provide never-before-seen content. I write to feel my feelings! To share opinions, and celebrate the small joys in life, to make a written history of things I may not even remember in 15 years. And I think finally, 10 months after making the active decision to leave my job, and a year after I purchased a travel trailer and committed to an alternative lifestyle, I finally realized that I can write about things that have been written about before. I can take photos of trees and birds and be bad at it for a while. I can grant myself grace in trying something new and being vulnerable.

Cheers to myself for taking the first step, even if it was a very looooong step. I’m not going to be an influencer, or content creator, or make money. But I am going to write and attempt to share my musings, and hope others can take that step as well. You don’t have to be naturally talented to try something new, and no one is an expert their first time.

Photo taken at Todd Nature Reserve in Pennsylvania, October 2022

[cobul]

It has been a long time since I posted something personal, but I need to vent a little.

My christian family (mainly father’s sides, him included) KNOWS that I don’t believe in anything, yet given the minimal opportunity, they will try to convince me to “talk with god” just in case I ever miraculously gain faith. They say things like this:

“Oh, cobul, so you are stressed with college exams? why don’t you try talk to god? You will feel release!”

“So you’re worried about [insert ANY topic]? I know you don’t believe in anything but please! Pray for god! Or at least do it for me”

Like, if it was just a few times? No problem, I understand it is their set of beliefs or whatever. But because of the frequency of it happening in this last year, it’s becoming really off putting, honestly. I swear, one of these days I’m going to snap and tell them to fuck off. If they wanted me to believe in god, maybe, just maybe, they shouldn’t have sent me to a laic school where we studied history of religions (a class where we were taught about the biggest religions worldwide in the most aseptic way).

It’s kinda funny, they me gave free will and didn’t make me join a catechism group while I was younger because they thought that I would somehow choose Christianity when I became an adult. These were my fathers words, a few years ago:

“A kid cannot fully understand what a religion is and what it compels, and should not be indoctrinated in one. Believing in god should be a conscious decision, not something coming from a compulsory habit”-.

Taking in account that my father and his siblings were brought up in a traditional christian family, it’s to be expected that they think of Christianity as the default and the best, despite them being more liberal than my grandparents, I think they failed to realize that giving me freedom of choice could also mean that there was a chance of me not becoming christian. That or they overestimated their persuasion or faith power to convert someone. As a more tongue-in-cheek comment, maybe they thought that at least I would believe in something, which would be easier to work with for them, probably.

All in all, at least they’re not TOO homophobic and my father accepts my homosexuality way better than my lack of faith.

Sorry for the long post, I know it’s an oddly specific situation what Im talking about, but thanks for reading, in case this reaches anyone. (Also sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes, I’m not a native speaker, so feel free to correct me).

[what-if-nct]

hiiii is it ok if i ask for some advice? im sorry im gonna sound rambly but uhhh i'm 14 and starting high school next year (which i alrdy dont feel too good abt haha) and my (overbearing asian) parents are going to send me to this private lutheran hs instead of the public one i was supposed to go to bc its more upper class and smart (?). tbh i was genuinely surprised that i liked the school, academic-wise, and i rlly liked that i had the space in my schedule to take more fine arts classes (i dont have any in my hs) but like the first thing the principal said to me was that i "needed to learn to be a good christian". a whole hour each week is dedicated to jesus and i just know my atheist ass is going to be uncomfortable asf. first, one of my best friends has a thing for jesus (he says jesus is too hot to be straight 😭) and i cant tell if hes joking anymore, and second, i dont have a problem with people who are religious, but i do when they are flat out hateful and harrassing people from communities they "dont agree with", and i just know the people preaching at this school are the latter.

also rn i am the *only* poc in my entire school, and i noticed there were a lot more asian students and students of color, so hopefully there'll be less kids pulling at their eyes or calling me slurs :D

anyways i not a fan of the fact that "homosexual behavior on or off campus" warranted for expulsion, since i am a *very* queer and bisexual individual. at my current school, i dont really need to hide my gayness bc no one cares, and my teachers are accepting (my homeroom teachers a lesbian lol <33). i dont think i can handle having to hide such a big part of my identity at home *and* at school :( too add to that i really suck at making friends, so being somewhere without people i'm comfortable with, my anxiety gets really bad, and i just shut down completely.

my hs is p rundown (like most public highschools are) and the classes are average at best, so idk man, im torn :( i dont know if i should suck it up and go to lutheran school bc their good academics, or ✨be myself✨ and go to p shitty school :/

i dont know what to do (or if i can even do anything) abt it i just dont feel too good about this :( you've mentioned you went to a christian school, so do you have any advice? even if you dont, thank you so so much for listening to me rant for a moment there <33 i really treasure you and your blog, atp you feel like the big sister i've never had. i love youuuu <333

That is such a sticky situation. Cause maybe you can try to persuade your parents especially since they'll be paying for the private school on top of college tuition in the future, it can be a huge selling point. I know that's how I won in the decision of beauty school over college it's cheaper. And christian and catholic schools are heavily based in religion like it's a huge part of it so if you don't believe in it it can be absolutely mind numbing. I actually didn't go to Christian school, actually wasn't forced to go to church as a child, I was like 11 and for some reason told grandma Christianity is responsible for all the bad things that happened in the world. Which is wild that I even was able to come to that conclusion as a child she just brushed me off. But I did go to church summer camp to be with my friends which my friend and I got scolded for holding hands but she was just leading me through the crowd of people. So that's still unfortunately a huge part of christian beliefs

the thing that really caught me off guard is the homosexual activity off campus can lead to expulsion. On campus like sucks but is expected of a christian school sadly. But off campus in your day to day life is like your actions off campus shouldn't be judged by the school. Like I can't wrap my mind around that. I think since you have a whole summer maybe look for more schools you can attend I remember doing this in middle school because my home high school was an F school so you could choose any high school within a certain range. You'd be really surprised with how many schools are around you I'm assuming you're in the us but I'm sure everywhere has a ton of schools. And look for a school that holds some of what your parents want and also your own values and needs for your education. And maybe your parents seeing you take initiative might be an extra point.

If your parents are deadset on it. I think try to make the best out of it as much as you can usually there's a group of people in the same boat you're in where their parents forced them to be there. Trust me no matter where you go you will always be drawn to those like you every single time. But if you do get the choice of going to the original public school firstly screw every single racist little bitch who does that to you that is horrid I am so sorry you have to endure that. People suck. But you can also learn extra independently I always did that cause I was a bit ahead of my class. But I really think researching more schools in your area would help you find the perfect school for you. I personally was in love with Waldorf schools they're more creative led schools and freer, I wanted to go to one so badly. So figure out the exact kind of education you want like a magnet school, charter school it doesn't hurt to see how receptive your parents will be to it.

I really hope this helped at all and I hope it works out well for you. And Awwww it's so sweet you see me as a big sister, I gladly be your big sister, love you too🌸🌸🌸

[bedlessbug]

P.K.DICK how to build a universe that doesn't fall apart two days later

If reality differs from person to person, can we speak of reality singular, or shouldn’t we really be talking about plural realities? And if there are plural realities, are some more true (more real) than others? What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe, it’s as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can’t explain his to us, and we can’t explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown of communication… and there is the real illness.

It was always my hope, in writing novels and stories which asked the question “What is reality?”, to someday get an answer. This was the hope of most of my readers, too. Years passed. I wrote over thirty novels and over a hundred stories, and still I could not figure out what was real. One day a girl college student in Canada asked me to define reality for her, for a paper she was writing for her philosophy class. She wanted a one-sentence answer. I thought about it and finally said, “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.” That’s all I could come up with. That was back in 1972. Since then I haven’t been able to define reality any more lucidly.

The pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Parmenides taught that the only things that are real are things which never change… and the pre-Socratic Greek philosopher Heraclitus taught that everything changes. If you superimpose their two views, you get this result: Nothing is real.

My two topics are really one topic; they unite at this point. Fake realities will create fake humans. Or, fake humans will generate fake realities and then sell them to other humans, turning them, eventually, into forgeries of themselves. So we wind up with fake humans inventing fake realities and then peddling them to other fake humans. It is just a very large version of Disneyland. You can have the Pirate Ride or the Lincoln Simulacrum or Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride — you can have all of them, but none is true.

In my writing I got so interested in fakes that I finally came up with the concept of fake fakes. For example, in Disneyland there are fake birds worked by electric motors which emit caws and shrieks as you pass by them. Suppose some night all of us sneaked into the park with real birds and substituted them for the artificial ones. Imagine the horror the Disneyland officials would feel when they discovered the cruel hoax. Real birds! And perhaps someday even real hippos and lions. Consternation. The park being cunningly transmuted from the unreal to the real, by sinister forces. For instance, suppose the Matterhorn turned into a genuine snow-covered mountain? What if the entire place, by a miracle of God’s power and wisdom, was changed, in a moment, in the blink of an eye, into something incorruptible? They would have to close down.

In Plato’s Timaeus, God does not create the universe, as does the Christian God; He simply finds it one day. It is in a state of total chaos. God sets to work to transform the chaos into order. That idea appeals to me, and I have adapted it to fit my own intellectual needs: What if our universe started out as not quite real, a sort of illusion, as the Hindu religion teaches, and God, out of love and kindness for us, is slowly transmuting it, slowly and secretly, into something real?

Of course, in science fiction no pretense is made that the worlds described are real. This is why we call it fiction. The reader is warned in advance not to believe what he is about to read. Equally true, the visitors to Disneyland understand that Mr. Toad does not really exist and that the pirates are animated by motors and servo-assist mechanisms, relays and electronic circuits. So no deception is taking place......And yet the strange thing is, in some way, some real way, much of what appears under the title “science fiction” is true...... That is the issue: not, Does the author or producer believe it, but — Is it true? Because, quite by accident, in the pursuit of a good yarn, a science fiction author or producer or scriptwriter might stumble onto the truth… and only later on realize it.

The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words. George Orwell made this clear in his novel 1984. But another way to control the minds of people is to control their perceptions. If you can get them to see the world as you do, they will think as you do. Comprehension follows perception. How do you get them to see the reality you see? After all, it is only one reality out of many. Images are a basic constituent: pictures......

Recent experiments indicate that much of what we see on the TV screen is received on a subliminal basis. We only imagine that we consciously see what is there. The bulk of the messages elude our attention; literally, after a few hours of TV watching, we do not know what we have seen. Our memories are spurious, like our memories of dreams; the blanks are filled in retrospectively. And falsified. We have participated unknowingly in the creation of a spurious reality, and then we have obligingly fed it to ourselves. We have colluded in our own doom.

We have fiction mimicking truth, and truth mimicking fiction. We have a dangerous overlap, a dangerous blur. And in all probability it is not deliberate. In fact, that is part of the problem. You cannot legislate an author into correctly labeling his product, like a can of pudding whose ingredients are listed on the label… you cannot compel him to declare what part is true and what isn’t if he himself does not know.

My theory is this: In some certain important sense, time is not real. Or perhaps it is real, but not as we experience it to be or imagine it to be. I had the acute, overwhelming certitude (and still have) that despite all the change we see, a specific permanent landscape underlies the world of change: and that this invisible underlying landscape is that of the Bible; it, specifically, is the period immediately following the death and resurrection of Christ; it is, in other words, the time period of the Book of Acts.

Parmenides would be proud of me. I have gazed at a constantly changing world and declared that underneath it lies the eternal, the unchanging, the absolutely real. 

During the Middle Ages, a curious theory arose, which I will now present to you for what it is worth. It is the theory that the Evil One — Satan — is the “Ape of God.” That he creates spurious imitations of creation, of God’s authentic creation, and then interpolates them for that authentic creation. Does this odd theory help explain my experience? Are we to believe that we are occluded, that we are deceived, that it is not 1978 but A.D. 50… and Satan has spun a counterfeit reality to wither our faith in the return of Christ?

 What I am saying is this: There is internal evidence in at least one of my novels that another reality, an unchanging one, exactly as Parmenides and Plato suspected, underlies the visible phenomenal world of change, and somehow, in some way, perhaps to our surprise, we can cut through to it. Or rather, a mysterious Spirit can put us in touch with it, if it wishes us to see this permanent other landscape. Time passes, thousands of years pass, but at the same instant that we see this contemporary world, the ancient world, the world of the Bible, is concealed beneath it, still there and still real. Eternally so.

Despite all appearances, Christ was going to return, and our delight and anticipation was boundless.

To quote Xenophanes, another pre-Socratic: Even if a man should chance to speak the most complete truth, yet he himself does not know it; all things are wrapped in appearances (Fragment 34). And Heraclitus added to this: The nature of things is in the habit of concealing itself (Fragment 54). 

Little of what Heraclitus wrote has survived, and what we do have is obscure, but Fragment 54 is lucid and important: Latent structure is master of obvious structure. This means that Heraclitus believed that a veil lay over the true landscape. 

The first great quantum leap in Greek theology was by Xenophanes of Colophon, born in the mid-sixth century B.C. Xenophanes, without resorting to any authority except that of his own mind, says:

One god there is, in no way like mortal creatures either in bodily form or in the thought of his mind. The whole of him sees, the whole of him thinks, the whole of him hears. He stays always motionless in the same place; it is not fitting that he should move about now this way, now that.

This is a subtle and advanced concept of God, evidently without precedent among the Greek thinkers. The arguments of Parmenides seemed to show that all reality must indeed be a mind, Hussey writes, or an object of thought in a mind. Regarding Heraclitus specifically, he says, In Heraclitus it is difficult to tell how far the designs in God’s mind are distinguished from the execution in the world, or indeed how far God’s mind is distinguished from the world.

The summation of much pre-Socratic theology and philosophy can be stated as follows: The kosmos is not as it appears to be, and what it probably is, at its deepest level, is exactly that which the human being is at his deepest level — call it mind or soul, it is something unitary which lives and thinks, and only appears to be plural and material.

The Logos was both that which thought, and the thing which it thought: thinker and thought together. The universe, then, is thinker and thought, and since we are part of it, we as humans are, in the final analysis, thoughts of and thinkers of those thoughts.

Xenophanes had said, Effortlessly, he wields all things by the thought of his mind (Fragment 25).

[gobs-o-cs]

So I have roughly finished the next character - But I was working on brushing up/finalizing his backstory, which includes two parts - The part where he makes his Warlock pact, which actually was relatively all new beyond the bare-bones concept* because I only just finalized what specifically his pact should actually be, mechanics-wise**. This bit is the really easy, generic bit that could work for him as a backstory in pretty much any D&D campaign I'd play as him, or even use him as an NPC.

The second part of his story was to integrate him into the larger context of the world I'm building - Connect him to some other characters.

This was always going to be him and his new partner/patron stumbling into a legitimate Cult Settlement, full of true believers, with a charismatic leader at the head of things. Thus pitting one kind of traditional conman vs. another kind of traditional conman. What would a Snake-Oil Salesman/Fake Exorcist do against a Cultist Compound? Fun contrast.

Of course, this being a world with literal gods and other such powers, it wasn't going to be that simple - The Cult Leader is indeed a Cleric deriving divine power from this new, upstart god/pantheon that claims to be whispering all the solutions to the world's problems into his head. So the Cult Leader is as true of a believer as the rest of the cult, and not just a scammer at the top, looking to take everyone's money and run - But are these "gods" legit? Are they actually as benevolent as they claim, or perhaps some sort of sinister force looking to sew chaos in the world?

And of course, as a final twist, the "gods" themselves had been imprisoned by the long-forgotten Precursor Empire, with what appears to be a specific Aasimar Paladin magically sealed into stasis to help maintain the binding magic, and to help hunt them down should the seal ever be broken***. Of course, the seal gets broken, and "gods" go from whispering promises of power to whoever sets them free, to fully out there in the world, with a full-blown cult already doing their bidding.

So, yeah, beyond Silas here, and his Patron/Companion Gwendolen, I wanted to have a pretty clear picture of the Aasimar Paladin Vehemens, the Cult Leader, Brother XIII (Human Cleric), and his two top servants Eggren Hard-Head (White Dragonborn Paladin), and ...Well, I hadn't thought up who the other one was going to be until just a couple of days ago - Fia Wilbur (Wereboar Ancestor Beasthide Shifter, College of Spirits Bard).

So, yes, taking the time to get all their appearances, builds, and backstories sorted is indeed taking a while.

ANYWAY!

Getting back on-track to tonight specifically: I hadn't actually planned on doing much writing - I was just going to play some video games, but as I was sitting there, I had an idea pop back into my head.

There's a couple concepts I've had in mind for the world-building - One was the specific nature of "Divinity" vs. just "Powerful Immortal Being", and another was "There's a reason why some people become adventurers/PCs/gain class levels at a far accelerated rate, but not everyone does".

So, the divinity one is pretty basic, and the broad concept is pretty common for D&D-type settings - Deities get their powers from belief/worship - Maybe not all of their powers, but a significant chunk. This includes Gods, TItans, Primordials, etc. The little drops in the bucket of individual belief/faith that a being has power, increased with specific worship of that being, really adds up when you have whole religions of believers out there (Including all the souls persisting in the afterlife who still can have their faith). This can even lead to mortal beings ascending to deity status if there's enough faith in them out there. I wrote out and detailed some of the ideas I had for specifics on this - How exactly things work in my world, essentially. The key being that the beliefs are very self-reinforcing - The more it becomes known that a deity controls this and that, or that they did such and such great feats as part of their lore, the more power they specifically have to influence that domain, or use that specific ability. How is this governed? Well, some sort of even higher force in the universe guides it somehow. Nobody's had a great answer for that.

Tying back to the character's I've been specifically working on - The "gods" of the cult were beings (most likely mortals from the Precursor Empire) that tried hacking this system somehow to elevate themselves to Godhood. I've even got some rough idea of how their pantheon-of-sorts works, and how Brother XIII is meant to undergo the same process they did and ascend to be the 13th member of their pantheon - That's the reward they're promising him anyway. Now, on the surface, they're not inherently evil - But they very much are disruptive to the existing status quo - Ironic for a worship system that centres Equilibrium (and is primarily Order Domain, though each of the 12 aspects corresponds to one of the Divine Domains in the D&D books that I have access to - With Life and Grave/Death sharing the Persistence aspect, which will be split into Inevitability for the existing aspect - Keeping Grave/Death, and Continuity - Transferring the Life domain to Brother XIII as he ascends (he's still an Order-Domain Cleric - Think of them all as Order Domain, governing another domain, essentially)

As to the PCs part - I've decided that it's a known *Thing* in the world that sometimes, after doing something - Usually big and important, but sometimes small and ordinary, that people can become "Storied" individuals. In that, the universe seems to be looking in on their story specifically, and granting them some power in terms of becoming stronger/more skilled far more rapidly that they might otherwise have progressed, as well as giving them a little bit more luck in staying alive as their growing prowess leads to them seeking out greater and greater challenges - Whether by choice or necessity. It's seen as almost as much of a curse as a blessing.

Anyway, hammering out all of these details took several more hours than I had initially planned on sitting here writing tonight.

But, y'know, you've gotta strike while the iron is hot when it comes to these sorts of bursts of inspiration, right?

Anyway, with any luck, I'll keep chipping away at statting-out characters, making their minis, and getting all their backstories and the big story of the whole inciting incident where The Twelve are freed, and Vehemens awakens and must work with Silas to try to escape the cult and begin working to re-imprison the false gods.

**[Conman accidentally someone performs some sort of binding ritual while doing a fake exorcism, and now is bound to a powerful entity of some sort].

**[I actually ended up settling on Genie/Chain pacts because I'd done ones with Fiends already and more earmarked. Fiend made more sense for this setup when I first conceptualized the character, moreso than Archfey or Great Old One. But there's more options out there now for patrons - And while it was very, very close to being Undead, in the form of some sort of powerful ghost, Genie (Djinn, specifically) won out because the flavour of him being a conman/huckster at heart, always wouldn't have necessarily carried as well with mechanics focused around being legitimately frightening and unearthly. But a Djinn, who also delights in clever schemes? That could very much work for a partner - Plus, with a Sprite being a legitimate Familiar option now, I could have the Djinn take on a visage of a miniature, limited-power version of herself and interact with things other than just Silas himself]

***I Don't think I've ever specifically mentioned the lore of my world here on this blog so far, because I'm hesitate to say things that I haven't 100% finished/set in stone with regards to that, but, story-wise, all Aasimar in this world come from a time in the distant past, at the height of a Roman-Empire style civilization's reign. They were believed to be the Chosen of the Gods, having developed from otherwise Human [And only Human, clearly the Gods' favoured race, you see - At least as far as the Precursors were concerned, and have preserved in terms of individuals and records] babies and revealing their Celestial heritage at some point, usually around puberty, and before adulthood. They were then taken by the state when discovered and molded into leaders and champions of whatever god they were linked to.

However, something happened to the Empire - And the world as a whole. They were able to see that the Cataclysm was coming, and that the "Chosen of the Gods" (Aasimar) would be needed to save the world some time in the distant future, so through some sort of magical ritual, various individual Aasimar were put into a magical stasis - They'd reawaken only when the world specifically needed them again. The Cataclysm was more than just a force of physical destruction - Something happened that much of the written/etched records of the Empire disappeared, and any individuals in the world that weren't wiped out by The Cataclysm, were now magically blocked from remembering details about The Empire - Including, as it turns out, the Aasimar Chosen who had lived there - Even with their magical stasis.

Anyway, since then, no new Aasimar had been born in the world (Until Clara "Novelty" Morgan's nature asserted itself - Significant enough on its own, but especially with her being born a Tiefling). The only Aasimar are those who get found and inadvertently reawakened from their stasis chambers. They now have to travel the land, try to find each other, determine what threat this new world is facing, and adjust to new realities - Basically, great characters to form various adventuring groups around.

[perpetual-fool]

(What didn't happen)

It is the second grade of elementary school, I am seven years old. I am bullied on a daily basis. Most mornings I feel nauseous. The teachers punish me for what happens no matter what I do. Showing any emotion at all invites harassment. I learn that the best way to hide what I'm feeling is to not feel it at all. I push everything down, make myself numb. The adults praise me for being 'stoic'.

It is the first year of junior high, I am twelve years old. Puberty has started and I'm now bigger than the other kids, they stop bullying me. School has become torture. There is only memorization and inane busywork, they don't teach us anything. I don't need homework to pass, so I never do it. I always say I've lost it. I don't keep things organized and I don't look too hard, so it's not technically a lie. One particular day I get the idea that maybe I will start trying. I ask one of the teachers for another copy of the homework I'd already lost, as my parents kept telling me the teachers would help if I asked. "Why should I?" she says, "Because I need your help?" I say, confused. She doesn't reply. I never ask for help again.

It is the second year of high school, I am sixteen. I am dead inside. My religion has taught me that everything I am is evil, and avoiding the 'evil' of others has kept me socially isolated. The only bright spot of my day is orchestra class, which is at least a very little bit stimulating. I end up sitting next to a girl called Rene. She keeps playfully poking me until I take notice. She's small and cute and her bubbly demeanor is intoxicating. She likes me for some reason. We start chatting online. Initially it's all frivolous, but I'm desperate for connection and after not very long I start opening up about my feelings. She doesn't berate me or blow it off or make fun of me. She listens, she asks questions to be sure she knows what I'm saying, and she checks with examples to be sure she understands. It's the first real kindness I've ever known. She opens up too, and I do my best to reciprocate. I fuck it up quite frequently, but she's patient with me and we talk it over whenever I make a mistake, as she knows I haven't been able to openly be myself since kindergarten. And..

I was going to say we went our separate ways until my breakdown in college, but if she had been like this, there's no way in heaven or hell I'd have let her go willingly. (For that matter, I didn't want the real one to go either, but that was her decision.) And I was gonna say she's not a believer to make all this and the next part in particular make sense.

It is the first year of college, I am nineteen. I have no more faith in school, I have reached the end of the line and they still are teaching me nothing. The loneliness and depression have become crippling. I don't go to classes, I can barely leave my room, some days I can't get out of bed at all. I've kept telling myself this must all be for some greater good, but I'm starting to plan on killing myself, and there can't be any greater good for me after that. My faith in my religion is growing thin. Having no one left to turn to, I reach out to Rene. Being worried for my health she asks if I can stay with her. I ditch school, making the two hour drive back so I can see her. Over the next couple days I share all of the crumbling convictions I'd been indoctrinated with and she slowly helps me reach the conclusion I already know is coming. And when it does, it seems like a world of possibilities opens up to me. Rene keeps me grounded through my naive optimism, explaining to me that I can't just tell religious people they're wrong and such.

And I have to stop here. I'd like to say that then she gave me a crash course on relationships, friendship, romance, sex, etc. But I don't know how that would work, I've never had that.

- Writing this, all the usual imagined conversations came to me. But this time I have answers. I feel like I'm going through the breakup again. I'm exhausted. It hurts. The woman herself is long gone, of course. But the loss of the kind of person I thought she was hurts too. She was so full of joy and endlessly compassionate. And still, even from the very beginning, she was my enemy.

I'm torn. I feel good, light. I might finally have my footing. But also, I'm so very empty, gutted. I wanted to be a part of that world, not find out that it doesn't exist. And I do still miss the woman herself. She was.. very convincing. Years later and you're still hurting me. Bah.

Tomorrow will be different.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Hi dear! I have a personal question, which I hope you could answer if you have time. I’m 18 and I’m having trouble picking a career, and next year I’ll be going to university so I need some clarity regarding which major to choose. 🪷 First of all I’m from Italy, Gemini sun Pisces rising, my north node is in Taurus and south node in Scorpio, if it’s indicative of anything. I read that we should look at our midheaven but I don’t know what to make of it? I got a Sagittarius MC in 10H, so ruled by Jupiter, which falls into Virgo and also 7H in my chart. Could you offer some guidance? I’m undecided between International Relations/Business and BioArchitecture, in general I’d love to help the planet become greener and sustainable, humanity needs to be connected with Mother Nature. I also really love to travel and meet new cultures and traditions. A high-income job to be financially independent but one that also fulfills my inner purpose, if that makes sense? Thank you so much 💗💗

Hi! Well one you’re 18 so I’d encourage you to explore as much as you can at college, classes and hobbies and people because you don’t feel it but you are young and what 18 year old you wants will be different from what 30 year old you wants. Don’t go into this thinking it’s a forever thing, follow what makes you feel alive and happy. You don’t have to pick and stay with a career. Gemini, Pisces and Sagittarius are all mutable signs which means adaptable, movement. All I’m trying to say is you don’t have to box yourself into conventional ideas of a “career” or one job you do forever. It may not work for you and that’s okay. That’s sort of the place I’m at in my career a decade after starting college. When you’re young, it’s easy to follow the paved path, but don’t be afraid to follow a cool bird caw, you may learn how to navigate better even if you get lost.

The nodes are interesting but hard to say without house placement. The north node shows where you are heading in this life. Taurus rules the second house and handles material possessions, building wealth, and how you find value, depending on the house will show the area this plays in.

Sagittarius MC shows that you are someone people see as cultured, opportunistic, worldly, and philosophical. Sagittarius energy rules over international travel, philosophy and religion, and all things that are expansive, including of the mind.

I hope you can find a job that’s high income and fulfilling. I’ve not met anyone who’s found both yet. And that’s mostly because of the system.

My advice, don’t cling to preconceived notions of what you think you want, try to go on a journey of discovering what you enjoy. I pursued my career from the place of what am I good at that makes money, it almost killed me. I’m realizing now, I need to follow what makes me feel good first because the most important thing is joy. I didn’t understand what my own joy meant at 18, and when people told me to follow what I loved it confused me. That’s why I encourage you to explore as much as possible. Think about not just learning for your career but for your self development! I know this is maybe not a direct answer, but the earlier you learn to trust your desires, the better. I can’t tell you what’s right or best for you. That’s for you to discover, I’m not gonna take that away from you. And I’d encourage you to listen and take in all sorts of perspectives but take what feels right and best to you, that applies to career advisors etc. A lot of people in life are gonna tell you they know what’s best for you, and their intentions may be true, but you have to listen to yourself!

I hope if nothing else, this helps you to really listen to yourself and to feel like maybe this shows ways to approach things you weren’t thinking before. What I’m telling you is what I’ve learned and would tell my own 18 year old self. Take risks! Be bold.

[hopeheartfilia]

Today Ive been thinking of what I would change if I was to rewrite harry potter, so I was wondering about what ideas others had

(i need more tags to rant)

[spacequokka]

RM1526: Calculus II

Pairing: professor!Changkyun x student!Reader Genre: College AU, Smut Rating: M Summary: “I don’t doubt that. However,” he held your wrists in one hand as he locked the only door to the classroom with the other, “I can’t risk someone walking in on me topless. Even in the name of art.” Word Count: 2.6k 🤬 drabble my ass Warnings: teacher/student relations, topless Kyun deserves a mention, marking, dirty talk, reader would do shots off his tats and it shows, choking, quick rough vaginal sex on a desk, one use of degradation, editing this at 3am with a mix of coffee and melatonin gummies in my system, mistakes were made

Inspired by this gif. Part one of my four entries for the Monsta X professor au series with @iibonniee​ who made the banner! If you love this, please shower her with love for me. This series is all her idea. I recommend That’s the Way Love Goes and Promise for reading.

Masterlist | Next

At this point, it was an obsession. It started as mild curiosity at first. Who wouldn’t want to know more about the pretty tattoo playing peek-a-boo on the sexy calculus teacher? It wasn’t as if you cared about the numbers and symbols on his whiteboard. But the way his forearm flexed as he flipped the marker between his fingers, slowly shifting his sleeve back to show the intricate ink was becoming its own religion. You only wanted to see it up close, maybe even ask who did it so you could go pay your respects.

But no.

“Hm, that’s too easy for you, Ms. ____.” Professor Im smiled and shook his head. “Come back to me when you get an A in my class.”

You were barely passing his class. Well, you were nothing if not determined when it came to stupid shit. You found a tutor and made it your life’s mission to master math Greek gibberish. By the end of the semester, you managed to get a fucking 92. It was time to collect your reward.

You had your grades printed off, hand slightly shaking as you stayed in your seat and waited for class to empty for the day. Did you need your phone? You should probably take a picture to show the artist if he tells you who did it. Ugh, but why wouldn’t they remember him or their work? Okay, maybe you wanted a souvenir for your hard work.

“You planning on sleeping here tonight?”

Your attention snapped to the professor where he stood behind his desk with his hands in his pockets. Today was his black turtleneck sweater day. You swallowed hard and got to your feet. “No!” You held up the paper as if he could see it from where he stood. You hopped down the stairs and came to a stop in front of his desk. “You said you’d show me your tattoo if I brought my grade up. I have an A now.”

His bored expression barely changed as he cocked an eyebrow at you. Oh, fuck. Did he forget? You didn’t think you needed to remind him along the way. Shit—

“I know what your grade is. Who else grades your work?” The tiniest smirk graced his lips before he took his hands out of his pockets. “Ah, now which one was it…” He looked between his arms then held one up. “I think it was this one.”

You sucked in air. “Wait, you have more than—”

He ignored you as he pushed back the fabric and revealed the holy grail. The flower was gorgeous, an intricate weave of lines that healed to perfection. You were drawn to it like a moth to his flame. He watched you come around his desk and even let you pull his arm closer for inspection. “You like ink that much, huh?”

“Sir, I happen to appreciate all forms of art,” you murmured as you traced the petals lightly with a fingertip. He shivered, but you ignored it, moving your focus to the shading of the stem and leaves. To his credit, he didn’t pull away.

He cleared his throat. “I got that impression over the past few months. You tend to stare whenever I roll my sleeves up.”

You felt your face flush as you froze and dropped his arm as if he’d burned you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mmm.” He nodded. “Of course. Come on, time to go.” He gently pushed your shoulders, turning you towards the door.

“Oh, wait! Can I get a picture? I killed myself for this.” You reached for your phone. “I wanna get one done soon.”

“A picture?” He scoffed. “It’s not even the best tattoo I have.”

“It’s not?” You whirled around to face him. He was close, and it forced you to look up past his chin. “Can I see? Please? Please, lemme see it.”

His lips twitched as he looked away. “I dunno, Ms. _____. I’d have to take my sweater off.”

“I’m fine with that. I want to see it.” You reached for the hem of his sweater, but he caught your eager hands.

“I don’t doubt that. However,” he held your wrists in one hand as he locked the only door to the classroom with the other, “I can’t risk someone walking in on me topless. Even in the name of art.” The click of the lock echoed in the large room. “You can’t tell anyone I showed you either.”

Excitement buzzed in your veins like alcohol. “Your secret’s safe with me, sir.” You followed him back to his desk, where he gestured for you to stand in front of his chair. You obeyed his instruction. His large hands seized you by your waist and pressed you against the edge of the desk.

“You might want to be up here to see it properly,” he murmured. Well, he had a point. You pushed yourself up onto his desk without a second thought. He rewarded you with one of those rare true smiles. “Perfect.” He sat down in his chair.

“Does anyone else know about your tattoos?” You asked without taking your eyes off him. He shook his head as he pulled the slinky sweater up and off his body. Your brain instantly turned to mush upon seeing the various designs of ink on his chest and shoulders. His artist must have descended from Da Vinci himself. You made this weird squeaky noise that sounded like a mouse on helium breathing its last.

Professor Im ran a hand over his pecs, then stretched. “Okay,” he stood up and got mind-numbingly close, “be gentle with it. I get ticklish.”

You scoffed as he turned around. Your mouth dropped open, eyes wide and sparkly. You’d imagined all sorts of different designs on him. Something like this? Unthinkable, yet it suited him. Again, your hands moved on their own as you committed each detail of the three flowers to memory. “This is amazing,” you whispered.

“So is your touch,” he grunted. “Are you always this delicate with things you handle?”

Your cheeks heated up, and you bit your lip. “Would you like it if I poked harder?” You didn’t mean for it to sound that way, but once the words were out, you shrugged it off. A man with gorgeous skin and god-tier tattoos will do that to you.

What you didn’t see coming was his reaction. He stiffened for a second, as if even he couldn’t believe you’d be that bold. But then he backed up, all but shoving his back into your face. He gingerly brought his hands to your knees as if to steady himself as he perched his ass against the desk between your thighs. Did he think you wouldn’t lick his fucking tattoo right here? You honestly couldn’t tell if he was aware he was slowly driving you insane.

Two can play that game.

Keeping an eye on the side of his face, you splayed your hands out on his back and gently pressed your fingertips into his skin. His mouth opened a little. With a deep breath for confidence, you pressed your lips to one of the flowers wound around the blade going down his spine. The man jerked like you’d shocked him, but again he didn’t pull away. Instead, he squeezed your knees with a warning as he released a slow exhale. He might have mumbled something like “Don’t get fired, Kyun.”

You liked the idea of him fighting against doing whatever was going on in his head. You also liked playing with fire. “I’m surprised there are no scratches on your back.”

“Why would I—” He stopped when he caught on. “Ah. Well, it’s hard to scratch someone when you’re pinned down.”

The thought of being pinned underneath him, taking each stroke with his impossibly deep voice in your ear, was a heady one. You whimpered at the thought as your knees trembled with want. “Shit.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “You okay?” His concern was genuine, but it wasn’t like you could focus when he was massaging your legs. His hands were calloused and swallowed your calf muscles. You couldn’t help the way your mind immediately wondered what else on him was big.

“Yep.” You swallowed hard, trying and failing to push the horny thoughts away. “C-can I see the ones on your chest before I go?”

He made a noise somewhere between a hum and a moan before turning around without bothering to put distance between you. He arched his eyebrow, silently asking if it bothered you, but you were already reaching up to touch him.

His grip on your thighs tightened as he leaned into your touch. “Fuck,” he gasped, while his eyes fluttered shut. You tilted your head to the side, amazed at how he responded to every little thing you did. Your hands trailed from his chest to his neck. His eyes snapped open and focused on you with a look that made you sit up straighter. You instinctively tried to close your legs around his waist, barely aware of how you exposed your dirty thoughts and wants. Changkyun’s hands closed around your wrists and pulled you towards him as he leaned in close enough for your noses to touch. “You’re really testing my patience here.”

You felt the low rumble of his voice deep in your soul, your core, and knew if he asked you’d fuck him right then and there. “I’d never do that.” You pouted as you looked into his eyes and brought his hips closer. “I hate tests.”

There was a beat of silence before he spoke. “Tell me you want this, _____.” He spoke against your lips. “No misunderstandings.”

You moaned softly as you threaded your fingers through the hair at his neck. “I want this, want you so bad—”

Changkyun didn’t even let you get the words out. He devoured your mouth with a kiss so hot and wet your panties were ruined in seconds. The way he paid attention to every detail, from your lips to your tongue and even the roof of your mouth, left you whimpering with want while struggling against his hold keeping you from touching him. And you wanted that more than anything. Just to feel his skin and the raised lines from his tattoos under your fingers while he shivered.

When he got tired of exploring your mouth and nudged your head aside to kiss your neck, you were able to voice your complaints. “Please,” you pulled against his hold, “let me touch you.”

He chuckled before nipping at your throat. “Greedy girl, you already have. It’s my turn.”

You had to bite your lip to keep from crying out when he bit you again, this time harder. “Please, just a little bit more.”

His kisses trailed back to your mouth. “Sound so pretty when you beg like that, but keep it down. I don’t want anyone else to hear what’s meant for me.” He gently bit your bottom lip and slowly let it go. “Got it?” 

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. He smirked and kissed you again as he laid you back on the desk.

“Can’t believe you’re a bad girl. On your professor’s desk spread out like this. Never would’ve thought.” His fingers caught the hem of your sundress and pushed the fabric up. Before you knew it, his fingers were exploring your pussy, caressing your folds, then parting them to dip a finger in. “Shit. I knew it. You’re gonna feel like heaven on my dick.”

Somehow, this kept getting better and better. Knowing he wanted to get inside you was all you needed to hear. “Oh, fuck yes.” You moaned quietly as you squirmed impatiently. He continued to tease you, sliding his finger in and out then adding another and finally a third. By the time he deemed you ready to take his dick, you were a mess, babbling as you rode his fingers chasing an orgasm he wasn’t willing to give just yet.

“Hands stay up here.” He pointed to the edge of the desk by your head. You grabbed it with both hands as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out a condom. Then he pulled off some David Blaine bullshit by undoing his belt and pants with one hand while opening the condom then rolling it on. Any other time, you would have applauded him. He put one of your legs on his shoulders while stroking himself a few times. You felt him prod at your entrance, head teasing through your slick before rubbing circles around your clit. Biting the inside of your cheek was the only way to keep you from giving you both away. “So good for me…” he moaned as he pressed the tip inside.

You tightened your grip as your legs shook with each inch he fed you. By the time he was balls deep, both of you were sweating and shaking, whispering curses as you realized what feeling so fucking good meant for you two. Pussy so tight and wet. Dick thick and deep. This could never have been a one-time deal. Fuck. He squeezed the thigh on his chest and pressed a kiss to your knee.

“Gotta make this quick so I can get you somewhere softer, like my bed or couch.” He groaned as you clenched at his words.

“I’m not picky,” you said bringing your other leg to his hip and pulling him in deeper. “Backseat of your car will do.”

“Shit, I can see you making me pull over at least once.” He put his other arm under the leg on his hip and bent over, pushing your legs back towards your chest. “You’re sin with pretty eyes and a tempting smile.” He pulled out just enough to slam back in, immediately setting a fast and brutal pace. The angle was perfect, stimulating your clit while reaching deep enough for each stroke to brush that special spot that had you seeing stars. His lips came back to yours and he hushed you. Only then were you aware that your cries of pleasure were echoing. “Get me fired and you’ll be my cocksleeve until I find another job.”

“P-promise?” You smiled, happy when he grunted and nudged your head aside again and suckled a mark into your skin.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Spending every fucking minute stuffed with dick and screaming my name.” His strokes grew shorter as he put more strength into his thrusts. He let one of your legs go in favor of your throat, bringing your attention back to the flower on his forearm. His muscles flexed as he adjusted his grip to only apply pressure from the sides. “Look at you. You love being choked, too? You keep surprising me. Cum for me, baby. Cum so I can take you home and wear that pretty ass out.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. A few more rolls of his hips against yours, pelvis grinding on your clit, and you were gone. His arms moved to the sides of your head, hands gripping the desk alongside your own as he started pounding away. The poor desk tried to hold its ground but still ended up screeching as it scooted across the floor with his thrusts. Losing his footing threw off his concentration and within minutes he was moaning in your ear as he came.

When he stopped and rested his head on your shoulder, you brought your arms down and gently rubbed his back, giving him a little pat for a job well done. But he didn’t want that. He pushed up and pulled out, peeling the condom off and dropping it in the trash by his desk. He grabbed your hands and helped you sit up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Masterlist | Next

[writingwithcolor]

Do small hints of a character’s Jewishness work, or do more harm than good?

@oatily asked:

I’m writing a HP fanfic and the mc has a Jewish friend. He’s really politically active, the one who radicalizes mc on stuff like the oppression of werewolves, the slave labor of house elves etc. Generally really smart passionate guy. I grew up atheist and pretty much completely outside of religion. I think I would need to take multiple college courses to fully understand any religion, but I still want to provide good rep. I’ve read a lot of Shira’s blog, but are there any subtle ways to include his faith without having an in depth understanding of the religion? Or should I just not mention his faith at all if I do not completely understanding the details of Judaism? I’m willing to put in the time to research ,and I already have quite a bit, but I think it would take me years and many classes before I felt proficient in my understanding. I guess my question is: Is it enough to put in small hints like the character eats kosher and goes home for Jewish holidays or does only mentioning these surface level things do more harm than good?

WWC NOTE: this question was answered to fill a gap in coding questions around Jewish characters, and it just so happened to be about HP fic. We at WWC, including specifically the Jewish team, do not condone the TERF-ness (or racism, anti-semitism, transphobia, or fatphobia) of JKR. We hope that the principles we used to answer this post will be useful for writers of other fandoms and for original fiction as well.

Mentioning surface level things is fine if they’re the right surface level things.

For example, someone who “goes home for Chanukah” is clearly only going home because that’s when the Christian-rooted school calendar says there’s a holiday, but if someone went home for new year’s (Rosh Hashanah) or Yom Kippur in the fall, or for their family’s Passover seder in the spring, that would feel accurate.

One way you could make sure that your surface level mentions are the right details to add rather than subtract verisimilitude, is to trade beta-readings with a Jewish friend and ask specifically for suggestions of places in the story where the little mentions would make sense. For example, if they’re in a history class and the teacher is talking about a particular time in history when we weren’t allowed in England, the kid might chuckle aside to his friend “my ancestors weren’t even allowed here that year.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_Jews_in_England

(Or less depressing, “oh hey, that’s the same year my folks came here from Russia/Germany/whatever”)

Kids in that series are also sometimes around the right age to become b’nei mitzvah, or to have had that just happen, so “and now on top of all these spells I have to learn my Torah portion?” or to mention some amusing incident that happened at his bar mitzvah reception if it was a couple of years ago, that’s another way to throw in a casual reference. If the kid is magic-born maybe the kiddush cup or fancy pen or whatever that his parents gave him for his bar mitzvah has magic properties. Come to think of it, going home over the weekend for his little sister’s bat mitzvah would be another good thing to work in, speaking of that age.

--Shira

How does the character's faith shape his passion for social justice?

Hello 😊 I love the sound of your activist Jewish character and the fact that the character’s existence actually addresses some of the problems with the source material.

The word you’re looking for is Tikkun Olam, an important Jewish middah (value) that translates to ‘healing the world’. One way to include the character’s faith in the story is to lean into how it shapes his passion for social justice:

· Does he have a particular rabbi or other spiritual leader who is his Tikkun Olam inspo? For example, my brother is Orthodox and vegan, and he loves to quote Rav Kook, a 19th/20thC rabbi and advocate for environmental justice and animal rights, as they exist in Jewish thought.

· Does he have a chavruta (Torah study buddy) and is he learning something that supports his views on discrimination?

· Were his ancestors activists at key moments in Jewish or world history?

As for other aspects of Jewish identity, there is actually already a fanfic about this, so I would recommend starting there. Again, not sharing this in support of JKR’s views – see below – but the fandom belongs to the fans, not the author.

- Shoshi

What does the character do on Saturdays?

I think the key to a lot of other questions about this character is going to be, “What does he do on Saturdays?” That is to say, what denomination is this kid from and how observant is he personally? This may only directly come into play if you’re specifically writing a scene stated to occur on a Saturday, but it’ll inform what mentions of Jewishness even make sense for his character. So let’s think through Jewish life at Hogwarts for a moment:

Denomination:

Are there enough Jewish students that they have a weekly visiting rabbi holding services on campus? Do Jewish students go off-campus to services at Temple Beth Anakim or Congregation Adath Kesem (Reform and Orthodox respectively) in Hogsmeade (I just made them up)? If so, an Orthodox or Masorti group of kids might go to Hogsmeade before dinner Friday and not come back until Saturday night, and thus be missing from action that took place in between, while a Reform group might only be away from Hoqwarts for an hour and a half Friday evening. Or he might choose not to go at all, either because he’s from a secular or non-observant family, or because he’s not comfortable in services for reasons of his own, or because the plot needs him around, in which case maybe pretending to be sick to get out of going to services without raising attention could give him some rounded characterization.

Observance:

As ever a quick reminder that denominational affiliation and personal observance are related but not 1-1 correlated. A character who regularly attends Orthodox or Masorti services might not personally have a problem writing, using money, or doing other activities that observant Jews typically avoid on Shabbat, or they might do them but have Feelings about it, or they might scrupulously avoid them. A character who regularly attends Reform services may not have an inner conflict about doing these things on Shabbat, but they might be sick and tired of being judged by more observant Jews about it--or they might be more personally observant and have to defend that practice around other Reform students.

Now, I’m not saying you have to include a detailed examination of your character’s inner feelings around their Shabbat observance in order to have them pop into the plot, say “Hi, house elves should have rights, see ya later,” but knowing the answer to this will help you come up with what does fit in your plot as far as what’s actually Jewish about your Jewish character.

You offered some beginning thoughts about this, but here are some additional quick questions about Jewish life at Hogwarts:

Does your character keep kosher? Where does kosher food at Hogwarts come from? Does the castle kitchen have a separate kitchen where specially-trained house elves prepare meals for the Jewish students? Is it apparated in from outside? Is it the same, better, or worse than the non-kosher alternatives? If he doesn’t keep kosher, does he have feelings about it? Does he joke about kashrut while eating a cheeseburger (have house elves heard of cheeseburgers?) or does he eat his black bean burger on a separate plate while wishing it tasted as good as your main character’s cheeseburger smells?

Shira mentioned b’nai mitzvah; If your story takes place in year 1, 2, or 3, your Jewish character is not only learning the difference between leviOsa and levioSA, they’re also learning how to decode and pronounce a not-insignificant portion of Hebrew scripture, as well as chant it according to a pre-medieval system of musical notation. Who are they studying with, and when do they practice? If they’re older, then did your main character come to their Jewish friend’s bar mitzvah? Why or why not?

Shoshi mentioned continuing Jewish education and connection: aside from the technical study, how does your character study Jewish history and culture, that he can draw on it to power his progressive politics? A chavruta would be another Jewish student they meet with specifically to study Jewish text, while a Jewish professor might be a role model or may be teaching them extra subjects on the side.

Ultimately, though, what hints you drop that reveal your character’s Jewishness are going to get easier to figure out when you can be confident answering what does your character do on Saturdays.

- Meir