#I also have a personal air purifier

[snezus-christ-risen]

Fucking kill me now

This disgusting man just sneezed openly in the airport like threw his head forward, uncovered, messy nasty ass sneeze into the space where tons of people walk by and I'm having a fucking panic attack

[magpiesbones]

worst thing about being disabled is that now I am fully and completely aware of exactly how much I am worth to everyone I know. And it is not a lot!!

[lookwhatyoumademelou]

.

[defmaybe]

Sticky

ITZY’s Shin Yuna x Male Reader

1.9k words

Prequel to Party Police

See also: Not Shy, Bahama

A/N: I write this in two sittings for probably the only mommy Yuna fic lol - BFH-type shit. No editing, no beta-reading, just pure lust again.

–

The clickings of the keyboards displace silence. Again, you’re stuck in the mundane cycle of doing another proposal for the project you’re going to lead. Sighs and sighs don’t keep you from drowsiness building up inside. Others don’t seem to do better even, some even folded on their desks already. The chilly breeze from the conditioner really is relentless right now, so damn perfect for a nap.

“Miss Shin wants you,” the secretary says, keeping you from falling into slumber.

You quickly get up from your desk, pacing towards the glass-paned office. You see your other co-workers dreading their assignments, clicking on their keyboards with blank eyes. On the opposite side, you can see, through the horizontal blinds, the vibrant office with your boss, Shin Yuna, doing the decorations inside. She’s tall (well, taller than you, at least), often confident, and so energetic, contrary to the department she just got handed over a few weeks ago.

You knock on the transparent door, seeing her putting on her Lady Bird poster on the wall. She’s wearing a one-piece raven black dress, one that hugs her slim, otherworldly curvy body so well. You can see her wide hips being so prominent, stripping away your fatigue.

“Come in!” she says, looking over her shoulders as she’s finishing the touch-ups.

You open the door, greeted with the scent of her air purifier—spring. The white fur carpet on the floor welcomes you with the sensations on your soles. Her office is spacious, and the colorful decorations fit her attitude and personality so much.

“Please, sit down,” she says with a smile, hand pointing to the seat in front of her desk. Even the cluttering trinkets on her table never look crowded, they are so meticulously placed to give her a perfect amount of space left for her work.

You accept her invitation, walking towards the seat. Yuna also retreats from her sprinklings back to hers, sitting down in her chair gracefully—a charming boss.

The air hangs heavy for a while, as Yuna takes some time to clear her desk. You glance around the room like the other times. The crucial difference being the Lady Bird poster, of course, and a few more band posters that you can’t quite recall from your listening history.

“So…” Yuna breaks the silence, tapping a finger on her chin, contemplating. “I see that you’ve been looking a little tired. Is that true?”

You blabber out, “N-No! I’m not tired a-at all.” You even put your hands up to deny the allegation.

“Those eyes don’t lie, baby.” The utterance of the last word alone freezes you. Is she flirting?

Let’s pause for a bit. Shin Yuna just got promoted to being your department’s manager—now three weeks in tenure. Her bubbly and kind personality receives multiple acclaim from your co-workers. And combined with her insanely high performances in projects, you cannot see how she wouldn’t get the position. 

Now, that friendly personality can be a bit, to say the least, slightly invasive. Yuna has always been so eager to fire up a talk with people, even if it means robbing someone’s silence. She’s also always happy to help those around her, no matter the methods. You’ve heard some complaints about her vivacious nature, but with the results saying otherwise, you just cannot dislike her for that.

“A-Are you suggesting I should go home or s-something?” you ask, unable to register how she’s getting up to close the blinds, as if she’s asking for some privacy from the outside right now. The room seems to shrink.

“Oh, does it look like that? Not at all, baby,” there it is again, baby.

“As your boss, I have to make sure that you stay productive for the day’s work!” Her smile lights the room up, as she walks towards her chair and sits down again. “I can’t have my employees dreading their jobs and expect a satisfactory performance.”

“Y-You’re very kind, M-Miss Shin,” you stammer out, and she seems to be happy with your words.

“Now tell me.” Yuna leans in closer to you, giving you the fine details of her face—doe eyes, minty breath, rose-colored lips. “Are you familiar with… mommy kink?”

You freeze, not expecting such a question from your manager. The gears in your head are working their best to seek the best answer you can give her, let alone making sense of the peculiar situation.

“A-Aga-”

“I’m certain of what I’ve said, mister,” she cuts you off, stern. Her expression reduces into an emotionless state. “Mommy kink, yes or no.”

“Uh…” That’s the only answer you can give her. The prospect of fully submitting to Miss Shin Yuna seems too enticing. Yet, perhaps it’s your inhibition that’s stopping your desire from falling into places.

“Come, sit on my lap,” Yuna instructs.

You glance around the room—left, right, back—as if to delay the inevitable of her pleasuring you.

“Now,” Yuna now commands, her voice steps down a few notes. 

“And there’s no camera hidden here, I promise,” she says with a smile, comforting you a little.

You slowly get up from your seat. What if I don’t do well enough for her? You walk around her table to land at your destination, your back against her face. She adjusts her position on her chair a little to accommodate your ass.

Her thighs feel… strong—definitely a result of workouts she has had after work. The images of those sweaty, skimpy sessions are making your mouth quiver—the fluid dripping down her body, just for you to taste.

Her hands start from grabbing the both sides of your slutty hips, earning a small whimper from you.

“So yearning for mommy’s touch, aren’t you?” Yuna giggles, moving her frisky fingers to unbutton your blue shirt.

“Y-Yes, mommy.” Your breath comes out in a false rhythm.

With your abdomen being gradually exposed, she uses a hand to feel it a bit, sending shocks and shocks through your faltering body.

“F-Fuck.”

“Hmm, so needy for mommy~” Yuna then continues her groping, until the last button is freed. Your upper body is bare under the cold air of the conditioner right now, as she brings the fondling hand up to your throat.

“Do you want my lips on you, baby boy?” Yuna asks, breaths warming the back of your neck. You can only nod at her.

Consented, she plants her lips on your body, and you are sure that the rosy prints are going to stick with you until the end of the day. Still, is it a fact that you should care right now? Getting groped by your goddess of a manager, with her being your mommy, on top of it.

You shiver at her kisses.

She frees your throat  before drawing her hand down to play with your raging bulge. She can definitely feel your cock aching to be freed right now.

“Need a hand, baby?” again, she asks, hand fondling the tent in your pants.

You become a stuttering mess at this point. “Y-Yes, m-mommy, please.”

“Please… what, baby boy?” She’s playing coy with you for sure.

“P-Please use your hand on my c-cock, please,” you utter out.

She whispers into your ear, “Good boy.” 

She unzips your pants, hand then slithering into the hole. The sensations are even stronger right now, with your underwear being the only barrier between you and her.

She keeps kissing your moaning neck, printing roses wherever she can reach. Her hand is stuck in fondling your cock through the slim cloth.

“Mommy, p-please,” you whimper, desire burning too brightly.

“Say please again, baby boy, and I’ll touch your cock.” Yuna giggles, enjoying how you’re submitting to your boss so damn easily.

“Please, m-mommy.”

Yuna wastes no time to push all of your lower garments down in a single motion, exposing your throbbing, twitching cock in glory. She hums in satisfaction at the sight.

“Hmm~, baby boy, so hard for me already?” she asks, finger drawing a line on the back of your cock from the bottom to the top. It twitches in response.

“Ngh, y-yes, m-m-mommy.” Yuna seems to be happy with your answer as she strokes your cock leisurely.

Her slender fingers only do what they have to do: sliding up and down to make you shatter under her touch. She starts at a slow pace, only teasing you about what’s coming. Her other hand roams under your shirt, moving down onto your juicy ass.

“Ngh, mommy,” you utter, pleasure building up in your loins. The sensations become stronger as seconds passed.

Yuna giggles at your whimpering, “Yes, baby boy?”

“I-I-, ngh,” you cannot form any words under her spell. Fuck.

Yuna cannot hold her chuckle inside, clearly satisfied with her baby boy melting under her touch. “Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Faster, please,” you finally respond, slightly out of breath from the overwhelming sparks all over your body.

Yuna listens to your plea, quickening the strokes, bringing you closer to the edge. Fuck, your slutty moans are probably heard by the people outside now.

The squelches of Yuna’s strokes are filling the room, along with your needy whimpers and her satisfactory hums. “I just wanna spend the whole day jerking this cock~” Yuna expresses, your heart flutters at her words.

“And I mean it, really,” she continues, still keeping the moderate pace of her hand from behind. 

“The size, the curvature, the thickness, god, I’m sure it can stretch mommy’s cunt out so well,” she whispers, and your length just cannot get harder at this second.

“M-Mommy, would you berate me i-if I- fuck.” you struggle to lead your words out, stuttering everywhere you can. She’s still jerking your cock, nursing you with another hand roaming over your body to over stimulate.

“Fast cummer, baby?” She chuckles at your apprehension. “You’re doing well, baby. I think this is the perfect pace for us.”

“T-Thanks, mommy,” you say, feeling the tightening of your knot already. “M-Mommy, where c-can I cum?”

“Ooh, that’s an interesting question, baby boy,” Yuna laughs. “I don’t think the higher-ups would mind a few stains from us~,”

“W-Wha-”

“Shh, let mommy handle this,” she affirms. “Just stay on my lap and let me milk your cock, okay?”

Your mind goes feral, aching for release. Her hand relentlessly stroking your length and another traversing your compact frame just overloads your mind. “Y-Yes mommy.”

“Good boy, now, cum for me, please.”

And it hits, you become undone at her touch, like a lightning. Your sticky cum is shot everywhere—on her desk, on the floor, hell, even on yourself. You moan in the pleasure of her touch and the mind-shattering orgasm. “Mommy!” you shout. Yeah, everyone is going to hear that.

“Wow,” Yuna pants, before planting a kiss on your neck. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact that your seed is on her precious report right now. “You came so much for mommy.”

You try to catch your breath, before speaking out, “Thanks, mommy.”

–

[colossrat]

Marvel is old. Like, not just bcs he is a entity of zillions of years old Billy was born and imprisoned for several years in a relatively conservative time full of prejudices.

When the time bubble pops and the League finds out about it, they expect Captain Marvel to be some kind of very close-minded, militaristic guy who will find the new generation full of sins (They don't know that in Fawcett there is so much magic, different species and queer entities that it is impossible to really be a socially backward place. They also don't know that the captain is a guy who doesn't like the police very much and his favorite sport is beating up nazis)

And well, finding out that the guy you thought would give you headaches in the modern age is actually super happy about it is kind of shocking Batman already had several slides ready to give the captain a lecture about respect

Marvel: Oh my gods, I found some pamphlets about these pride parades. Mr Batman, can I take this weekend off? I would love to go with my brother there!

Batman: Your... brother?

Marvel: Yes! Well, my whole family. We were part of some protests for the queer community in my time, but we were not part of any since the bubble. He liked the idea, but he's too shy to go alone, so me, my brothers and sisters wanna go with him to support him!

Batman: ... Of course, I will arrange for someone to take over your monitor duties

And next week there are several news about how the new-old heroes appeared on pride parade.

They help with things like free water and snacks distribution, first aid for minor injuries, they ensure that no homophobes try to start a fight, they don't let it turn into a mess and in general they also participate. They are practically all painted in colorful colors, their capes are personalized, some of them are dancing, others are further away taking care of the environment. Marvel does some magic tricks, makes rainbows appear in the sky and all that And they absolutely shower the green-suited superhero, aka they bro, with support and love. Vicki Vale and Cat Grant are dying to know why

And things like this just keep happening. Is there a protest in Asia about feminism? The Shazam family will be there, Mary and Darla protesting while their brothers stand around staring at anyone who wants to intervene. Community centers for homeless charities? captain will appear to call the public, ask for support and do some tricks to please the rich Donations to hospitals? They are all out there distributing news, asking anyone who can help, to help. A movement for teacher salary justice in Brazil? They are already there to help Or are movements taking place to preserve Brazilian flora? because of the criminal fires happening in the Amazon? They are there again, using their magic to heal what was hurt, put out what burned and protest, demanding more attention from the government. Do they want to take away land from indigenous tribes? They're going to have to go over the captain first. News broke about high levels of trash in the ocean. But Aquaman barely has time to deal with it himself, he sees his co-worker there with his family gathering pieces of trash and separating them for their own disposal, using spells to separate chemicals and water pollution. Is Gotham suffering from polluted air? The captain will gather a bunch of clouds and sprinkle them with some magic, and his raindrops will gradually purify the air for the people Is a police officer being cleared after attacking a teenager? no no no, marvel will be in front of the police station in the morning along with a bunch of civilians wanting justice Does a police car, or any car in general, have a sticker that supports some kind of tyrannical movement? apology for the Nazis? to an oppressive government? a prejudiced joke? Oh man, you better be ready for dawn with every part of this car missing, probably being sold illegally and having the proceeds sent to charity The fact that the captain calls the police bastard pigs was a shock, some got defensive and such, others thought it was great. It was a slight headache for the Justice League when it came to the media, but it's not like the government liked them before The movements in Brazil are there because im brazilian, raised by a teacher, there was no way to avoid it. Billy come to brasil <3

[majesticarlette]

The Wall Between Us

masterlist Synopsis: What if you're Ladybug but also Adrien's ex? Pairings: Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir x Reader Note: It's been a while since the last time I updated here in Tumblr. I missed you guys so much.

The moon hung high above Paris tonight, casting a pale light in your bedroom. The night felt heavier than usual, the silence is making your ears ring. You lie curled on your side, face half-buried in the pillow, eyes glassy and red-rimmed. Your chest tightens, breaths uneven, lips trembling as they fight back a sob. Sheets lay tangled around you, the silence finally broken only by a shaky inhale on the edge of tears.

“I'm worried about you, (Y/n).” Tikki spoke, she hovered over your pillow.

Sighing, you raised your gaze to look at your surroundings and your kwami. Tikki is genuinely worried about you. Behind her, it’s evident that you’re moping around your bedroom for a few days now. Your room slightly a mess with some of your pillows off the bed and clothes and papers clutter the floor. “It’s just so hard Tikki.”

It's hard seeing the person whom you loved so much appear in front you after a long time of having no contact. He looked good, too good as if time never touched him at all. He still looks effortlessly put together. His tousled blond hair frames a soft, hesitant yet kind smile. One that lingers in your mind long after he’s gone. And it's true, even though he's gone you can't help but still think about him.

"Are you still thinking about him?" Tikki said softly, landing on your shoulder.

"It's hard for me because it feels like I haven't moved on at all." Maybe it must've been you who was not touched by time at all. Still stuck in the moment where he probably left and moved on. "I thought I was finally doing well, but when I saw him that day... It felt as if my heart broke in pieces again."

For so long, you had tried to let go, to convince yourself that he wasn’t yours to hold onto anymore. But then he walked through the school doors, and suddenly, it all came rushing back.

Adrien Agreste, finally here. Finally outside the cage his father had built for him—at least, as much as Gabriel Agreste allowed. He had been given permission to attend school, to make friends, to live just a little more freely. But that’s all it ever was with him, wasn’t it? Permission.

His father had allowed this, but he hadn’t allowed you.

That was what stung the most. Adrien had asked to be with you, just like he had asked to go to school. And when his father said no? That was it. He hadn’t fought. He hadn’t pushed back. He had let their love be another thing controlled, another thing taken from him—except it wasn’t just taken from him. It was taken from you, too.

"Maybe you just need more time."

It sounded so simple, but how long are you going to wait? Time passing hasn't erased anything but only repressed these feelings you're burdened with. What hurt the most is that being Ladybug was the only thing keeping you together. With the mask on, there was no time to overthink, no space for heartbreak. Every leap across rooftops, every successful lucky charms, every purified akuma gave you a purpose that had nothing to do with the weight in your chest. And with Chat Noir, he somehow helps alleviate the heavy feeling on your chest. His jokes, no matter how ridiculous, pulled a smile from you. The way he trusted you so completely, without hesitation, made it feel like you're not alone.

"I need some air." You sat abruptly.

"Like a patrol? Right now?" Tikki asked

"Yeah, just a quick one. I promise."

After transforming, you quickly went on your way to clear your head through feeling the crisp breeze of the night air while silently hopping across rooftops and eventually settling on one with a great view of the Eiffel Tower. Paris looked peaceful from up here. Timeless, untouched by the chaos of everyday life unless Hawkmoth is still awake at this ungodly hour.

You wished you could feel the same.

Settling onto the edge of the roof, you let out a slow breath, your gaze tracing the winding roads, the tiny specks of people still moving through the city, living their lives. It should have been comforting. This was your Paris, the place you had sworn to protect. But tonight, it only made you feel smaller, like you were watching the world move on without you.

"Rooftop brooding? I thought that was my thing."

You tensed, already knowing who it was before turning. Chat Noir stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his usual smirk in place, but there was something softer in his gaze, something knowing.

You huffed, looking away. "I’m not brooding."

"Right," he said, stepping closer. "Just dramatically staring at the Eiffel Tower in the dead of night. Totally normal behavior."

You rolled your eyes, but the usual bite wasn’t there. Maybe because he wasn’t wrong. Maybe because, for all his teasing, he wasn’t pushing you to explain. He was just there, as he always was.

Chat Noir sighed, leaning against the ledge beside you. "Rough night?"

You look at him, your eyes are glassy. They lack the usual confidence and spark. Chat Noir doesn't have to second guessed that these eyes cried a river and had no tears left to cry. His gaze softened, but you know he's not the type to pry in your personal problems because the two of you swore that no one could know who you are even the both you as trusted partners. However, the weight of your feelings is clamoring for you to speak up. Pour your heart out for a cathartic bliss.

You hesitated. You could lie, brush it off, change the subject. But what was the point? He’d see right through you anyway.

"You ever feel like…" You swallowed, you panned your eyes on the city below. "Like no matter how hard you try to move forward, the past keeps dragging you back?"

Chat was quiet for a moment. Then, in a voice softer than she expected, he said, "Yeah. More than you know."

You turned to look at him, surprised by the weight behind his words. His usual carefree mask had slipped, just a little.

You held his gaze for a second longer than you meant to. There was something unspoken in his eyes, something that made your chest tighten. It wasn’t the usual playfulness, the relentless optimism you had come to expect from him. It was understanding. A quiet, aching kind of understanding. Why do you know this?

You looked away first. “It’s just frustrating,” you admitted, gripping your yoyo and tracing your thumb along the details maybe it might help you piece the words you’ll say. “I keep telling myself I’m over it, that I’ve moved on, but then—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Then I see him, and it’s like no time has passed at all.”

Chat didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you wondered if you said too much. But then he chuckled, though it was a little hollow.

“Yeah. Feelings are annoying like that.”

You glanced glanced at him, catching the way his jaw tensed, how his usual easy smirk faltered just slightly. He wasn’t just humoring you. He understood too well.

You hesitated. “There’s someone, isn’t there?”

Chat’s ears twitched, and for the first time that night, he looked caught off guard. “What?”

You tilted your head, studying him. “You speak like someone who knows exactly what I mean.”

He opened his mouth as if to deny it, but then he just sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he admitted. “There is.”

That surprised you more than it should have. Chat Noir had always been flirty, always joking about his “undying love” for you. But this? This was different.

You swallowed. “What happened?”

Chat shrugged, his smile small and tired. “I let one thing destroy the only thing precious to me.”

You knew that feeling all too well.

For a while, the both of you just sat there, side by side, staring out over the city. No teasing, no banter—just quiet understanding.

And maybe, just for tonight, that was enough.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Are there any resources/tips for going to the dentist? I’ve been putting it off for years, and I need to go soon before my teeth issues get any worse. But I’m terrified to take off my mask in a medical facility. I’m not even sure if I can find a place near me that requires staff AND patients to mask anymore :(

I get not wanting to get covid, but teeth problems are a HUGE risk for things like sepsis, so you should try to go anywhere asap. There's a pretty good chance you'd rather risk a covid infection now than be septic in a hospital and then catch covid there, tbh. Not trying to scare you, just being clear about the need for the risk.

Be prepared to go in at least twice since you haven't been in years, once for X-rays/cleaning/introductions, and then again (and perhaps again and again depending on your specific issues) to actually undergo procedures like fillings, etc. Going earliest mitigates the most risk. Make sure to schedule your appointments first thing in the morning for the lowest risk or right after their lunch break for not as low but definately lower risk.

You can bring your own air purifier, which can also help to mitigate risk. Some people swear by the "Redimask hack" in which you use this adhesive N95 over only your nose and breathe through your nose during the procedure. The adhesive on these masks makes me break out in welts/sweat the mask off, so if you've got a similar problem, there's some other tips here.

This is one of those situations where nasal sprays and mouthwashes may have some payoff, but they can't keep you from inhaling covid, so It's up to you whether you find them useful. Personally, I save the CPC mouthwash for before and after dental visits for this reason, and the same with xylitol nasal spray: there's been study showing that infections starting in the nose and throat do more neurological damage than ones starting from the lung, and while not perfect, it does add a layer of protection.

I own a wearable air filter for my allergies, and it has a MERV 17 filter, so I usually bring it along with me to the dentist to keep clean air blowing right up my nose, but I totally get how not everyone has $120 to drop on a device like that. There's a few small HEPA filters that can be purchased for between $50 and $90 that would work for that purpose. There are some links to some info about some on our site.

[manatee-rp-memes]

Drawfee and Secret Sleepover Society Sentence Starters Part 2

~Feel free to tweak as needed~

"At this point, evolve into a person or, like, give up."

"Sometimes my mouth makes noises I didn't tell it to."

"I'm really good at jokes today."

"Damn, I kinda don't care."

"We're a couple of geniuses!”

"I'm the greatest proof that you don't have to be good at art to make art."

"Keep your chin up, sweet king."

"I wish I were a bug and also a dead bug."

"Can you meow as sadly as possible?"

"I'm not stupid, you're stupid!"

"No, we can't start going hog wild."

"Where's your hog wild energy? We're supposed to be throwing caution to the wind!"

"Put on your cool shoes, we're hittin' the town."

"I'm just going to decide I don't care about that."

"He's full of emotions, he can't get off the floor."

"Can we get a proverb?"

"Go up, baldy!"

"Can I take you aside for a second? Can I talk to you for a second in private?"

"You're making me seem like history's greatest piece of shit."

"My favorite part was the surprise key change."

"Looks like it's to the jerk-off pod for me."

"Wow, this already sucks!"

"Where's my wife?!"

"Don't test me, you don't know how sapphic I can be. I've been training with the lesbians for years in the mountains."

"The car lost control because of the water."

"Why did she choose to put all her claws in my leg?"

"I don't dislike you because you're a woman, I dislike you because you're annoying."

"Oh shit, you're right. If you change the words I said to different words it does sound pretty bad."

"How about, um... eat my ass and whole taint? Thanks."

"Do you think that was the right way to treat a friend and coworker?"

"What just happened to me? My vision went white."

"Take this shit seriously."

"Boys~ don't fight over me!"

"Kill your past, become the future."

"If you're gay for one of us, you've got to be gay for all of us."

"What if we kissed in the digital world and we were both girls?"

"I got nothing. My brain broke."

"They don't want to fight, they just want to dance!"

"I wish... I wish we could go back to before."

"What is happening? I feel like I'm losing my mind. Is everyone understanding this except for me?”

“I feel like I've slipped into an alternate dimension where nothing makes sense."

"I didn't know I was here with a bunch of freaking shoobies!"

"I don't hate women, I just looove men!"

"Some of you have never been kissed by a butterfly and it shows."

"Sometimes real art is making lots of mistakes in front of lots of people."

"Look at my disgusting son!"

“‘Fake it til you make it,’ I whisper as I walk out onto the tightrope."

"I always liked the fucked up women."

"They're hittin' the damn doinkus in there."

"I wish my air purifier were next to me right now."

"You must play the bone game."

[highly-important]

More Severance Thoughts/ Theories

I really enjoy this theory that Dieter was a story Kier made up in order to separate himself from his own actions that he felt ashamed of. That the innies are just the outies punching bags that take consequences and bear punishments.

But what I think about confusing about the Kier and Dieter story is, which is the Innie and which is the Outie?

We know that Helena sees the Innies as inhuman slaves, which would lend to the idea that Kier is the Outie. The Innies are basically the whipping boys of the Outies. Mark gets drunk and his Innie gets the hangover.

But we also see that the Innies are much "better" people than their Outies, (with the possible exception of Irving, who'se Outie we don't really know). The Innies are really the ones given a clean slate.

Isn't this more like Dieter leaving his brother to become a part of nature, while Kier returns to the mills and factories?

So, although I've seen a lot of insane theories about Severance, I think it's probably really simple at it's core- severance is just a way of "purifying" a person. They detach themselves from the real world, and become more innocent "childlike" versions of themselves, tame their four tempers, and become something new.

I've said before about how the Alchemical process is a spiritual process of breaking away from worldly attachments and developing a higher consciousness.

In Alchemy, you take the four elements- earth, air, water, fire, and put them in a crucible with the fifth element- Aether, or luminiferous aether. (Lumon, get it?) The four elements correspond with the four tempers- woe, malice, dread, frolic.

In Alchemy, you "burn away" the old self, separate out the good and the bad, go through a process of death and rebirth, and distill the self into its most pure essence.

The Alchemical process has three main stages- the black stage, the white stage, and the red stage. In Alchemy, red would be associated with gold, and symbolizes alchemical success. (Think about how white, black, and red are major colors on this show, especially in the opening credits, and how red is used to symbolize knowledge.)

I think Severance also relates to protestant work eithic. The Innies basically exist just to work, and are meant to achieve some kind of spiritual growth through work.

To be clear, I think there are other things the tech can do, and different ways the Eagan family is using it.

I also think we are possibly seeing conflicts in Lumon between the pseudo-religious side, and the business side. Helena is on the business side, and thinks the religious side is a joke. Cobel is on the religious side. The business side is mostly interested in how this tech can make compliant workers.

Helena's dad doesn't like her and sees her as a failure. He may have made her get severed with the intent of actually "fixing" her in the process. That’s just a guess tho, I’m bad at predicting things

[stoat-party]

Fallout 4: Where is the Lone Wanderer?*

*a vague conspiracy theory which doesn’t actually answer the question at hand. We all have our own ideas of how the lore should go, and I’m sure yours is very canon-compliant and valid, but this is mine and I have support for it. Looooongpost.

First off: What do we know about the canon Wanderer?

We know they activated Project Purity (or had a companion do it) without the FEV and were inducted into the Brotherhood. We know they’ve met with MacCready (you can’t finish the game if you don’t), and he has dialogue indicating they had further contact. They also took the Brotherhood’s side at Adams Air Force Base.

We don’t know what happened with The Replicated Man, but since the canon Wanderer appears to have good karma, and info from 4 implies Zimmer’s disappearance was more recent than ten years ago, it seems likely they took the boring ending, which secures their membership in the Railroad.

Why aren’t they in Fallout 4?

The Doylist answer is that they’re highly customizable, and so they have no canon appearance, personality, gender, etc. But in-universe? Something happened.

“Accepting outsiders like yourself has proven disastrous in the past.” - Kells

“I've seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest... hell, some were even downright heroic.” - Danse

“Every doctor I've talked to was worthless. [] I don't need them... I need someone like you.” - MacCready

When Duncan first got sick, “someone like you” would have meant the Wanderer. This suggests (to me) that they’re not in the Capital Wasteland anymore. But they’re certainly not in the Commonwealth either.

The weird thing is that the Lone Wanderer is all over this game - they’re the namesake for a male hairstyle, a perk, a DCR song, a motorcycle brand… and the codename of Deacon’s mission to save the Railroad from certain destruction by recruiting the Sole Survivor.

Someday We’ll Find It, the Deacon Connection

Oh yeah, I’m going here. Desdemona’s terminal entries confirm it was always Deacon’s plan to get you onboard and use you to destroy the Institute. There are Railroad lookout posts near 111/Sanctuary and Red Rocket, and of course he followed you in Goodneighbor, Diamond City, and Bunker Hill (at least). His court jester vibe hides it a bit, but he’s manipulating you more than he’s manipulating Desdemona in the intro scene. And do you notice he rarely gives you a firm verbal disapproval unless you’re hurting the Railroad?

What could have caused Deacon’s interest in you, unless he’s made the connection between you and the Lone Wanderer? He’ll vouch for you if you haven’t accomplished anything yet, or even if you’re a Brotherhood member. A Pip-Boyed stranger emerges from a vault in the middle of a crisis, gaining friends, skills, items, and special abilities at a suspicious rate? Probably with the same gender and playstyle as the previous one? Heck, when he first heard the rumors, he probably thought you WERE the Lone Wanderer.

There are other indications the Railroad has been in contact with them — Desdemona mentions the Capital Wasteland as their primary destination for synths, and Deacon references Harkness’s recall code. If you refuse to pick a codename, Desdemona even assigns you “Wanderer.”

So what happened, then?

I think the answer lies with the Brotherhood, specifically in Deacon’s hatred of them. Sure, ideology is enough to hate them for, but Deacon sure seems suspiciously happy if you nuke their base of operations. (Some of) his comments on that:

“The Brotherhood... well, I met them on an op in Capital Wasteland a few years back. But now with Elder Maxson... Let's just say, not a fan.”

“That bastard Maxson really screwed them up. The Brotherhood used to be the good guys. Well, goodish.”

[Who’s Elder Maxson?] “He’s a piece of work, is what he is.”

And on his time in the Capital:

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Capital Wasteland? Now there's a tale.”

“Capital Wasteland. Exports: purified water, some decent tech, oh, and an insane suicidal cult that worships radiation. Thanks, guys.”

“I miss Capital Wasteland. You can actually drink the water there.”

And a few lines I’ve decided (with no evidence) directly refer to LW:

“Last partner I had wound up going... well, a little insane. I think it was all my show tune medleys.”

[After Maxson orders you to hunt Danse down] “See? This is what the Brotherhood's really about.”

And my favorite: “I’ve been looking forward to kicking the Brotherhood’s teeth in. I owe them.” This line comes before Glory is killed, so he’s not referring to that. The Brotherhood only recently arrived in force in the Commonwealth. He’s talking about something that happened in the Capital Wasteland.

So Here’s What Might Have Happened:

In early 2286, Deacon moves to the Capitol Wasteland for awhile, probably to get a face change and lay low for a bit. He contacts the Lone Wanderer, who has barely heard from the Railroad in nine years. They begin to work together.

(In context, this journal entry looks like he’s somehow gathering intel to predict when Vault 111 will open, but I can’t think of a way for him to get that information or know why it’s important, so I’m not going to believe it just yet.)

The Wanderer is still a knight, maybe a paladin. Maxson has been elder for 2-3 years and is monitoring the Institute. Meanwhile, the Lone Wanderer and Deacon are setting up infrastructure to receive escaped synths.

And then the Brotherhood finds out about one of the safehouses. With their limited understanding, they believe that the Institute is holed up there and attack. The Wanderer intentionally throws the mission — maybe disobeys orders, maybe downs a vertibird or collapses a subway tunnel, or maybe even attacks their brothers to protect the synths.

And, well-

Either they were killed, or they escaped court martial and execution by a hair’s breadth and fled the Capital, leaving Deacon to believe Maxson had them killed.

There you have it. That’s why they aren’t in Brotherhood dialogue or records. Their accomplishments couldn’t be recognized because they’re a traitor. And that’s why it’s personal for Deacon.

[magnus-marmot]

TMAGP Archivist theory

After giving way too much thought to alchemical symbolism and transmutations in this post, I feel like I have a pretty solid theory for what's up with the Archivist.

When the Magnus Institute burned down, someone must have been locked up under the trapdoor in the Archivist's office (whether or not this was the actual Archivist is still up in the air). The fire burned them alive along with all the information they had been archiving, calcinating it all together into a massa confusa and apparently dissolving it into the waters accumulating at the bottom of the "manky hole". For 25 years it's been putrefying in the sealed vessel of the office until Sam and Alice freed it. If the person wasn't the Archivist when they died, then the putrefying process made them into one by mixing them with the archived material. But it's still just a black shadow without a proper form.

After being released, it entered the peacock's tail phase, which is characterised by colours appearing into the blackness and is often symbolised by eyes. It's a clever red herring, making us think it has something to do with the Beholding, but it doesn't (at least initially, but if the Fears have truly entered this universe, then it's not an impossibility that the Eye would latch onto it). The peacock stage is a transitional phase between nigredo (the putrefying stage) and albedo (the purifying stage). Which is where we're at now.

(Side note: I know I've seen an alchemical illustration of a man wearing all black and covered in eyes, but for the life of me I can't find it now. So just trust me on this.)

The albedo stage is all about washing matter with mercurial waters until its true essence shines through. The Archivist goes around distilling peoples fear and memories, ingesting their pure essence and leaving the concrete manifestations (Salt) behind. It's purifying itself with Mercury, or the Mind. The proof is in how the transcripts describe the compulsions with watery metaphors:

"Gwen begins monologuing, the words pouring out of her unstoppably like a river." (Episode 21) "Words seemed to tumble out in a cascade" (Episode 26) "The dam breaks and the words gush from the CUSTODIAN’s mouth." (Episode 30)

The words are the purifying water, they are the Mercury. The Archivist is a work in progress, which is why it's repeatedly dissolving and coagulating (see my post on episode 37). And I bet that every statement brings the Archivist closer to revealing its essence until coalesces into its true form, whatever that might be. The tape players appear to be the catalyst for this. It's also interesting to see whether or not the form the Archivist takes will be affected by what the people on the TMA side think it should be. We're working with dream logic and manifesting ideas, so it's not out of the question that it might take a form reminiscent of their own Archivist. Or at least whatever they saw him as.

[kazuko-stuff]

First meetings Pt 1

Summary: You were born with pure energy along with your clan’s most prized inherited cursed technique, causing them to sheltered you from the outside world by the elders to focus your life as a jujutsu sorcerer. However, one day on a mission you encountered a white haired man with striking blue eyes that will change your life forever.

You were already a grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer and considered the top of the Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College, as you were acknowledged by the higher ups.

You were sent on a mission with two other female jujutsu sorcerers to send a cursed tool to a specific location. This cursed tool is said to be some sort of weapon that could purify special grade spirits in an instant but only the higher ups knew the truth. The Tsukimoto clan is known for their cursed technique of their powerful purification due to excellent control on cursed energy and is only shown mostly in girls.

You were born with pure energy and later proved you have the clan’s inherited technique, thus forcing you to go through your clan’s ritual that could enhance your cursed energy to purify curses of spirits and nullify negative energy. Utahime who heard this from the higher ups begged you to not go through this. “ Y/N, you don’t have to agree to this” as she holds both of your hands hoping that you’ll change your mind.

“ Hime- chan, I appreciate you for standing up to me but as a first grade sorcerer of the Kyoto branch and the heir of the Tsukimoto clan, I have to agree on doing the ritual . I also don’t want you to get into trouble with the higher ups and elders on my behalf, after all we don’t have much choice in this world of ours. Besides this is my home I had ever known” as you closed your eyes as you gave a sad smile to your best friend, knowing because of this ritual, you are prevented from leaving the compound or establishments related to the main branch along with the HQ if it isn’t mission related. However you truly wish to be free to explore the world and be free from the clans and HQ’s hold on you but you already accepted your fate.

Utahime understands your decision as she knows that you would put your mission first to protect others but also worries about your well-being as she is the only one who got to know you personally. She knew of the rigorous training you went through as child when you have your clan’s most precious cursed technique of purification and of now of being a prime candidate of being a consort towards other powerful clans, especially the Zen’in. You would always agree just to protect your family to spare them the wrath of the elders even if it means losing your freedom.

As you and your teammates were in the truck with the fake weapon, your teammate, the truck suddenly shook violently. You sensed cursed energy. “We’re under attack, prepare for battle” as your teammate Aya, she starts her attack only to realize the target from the report, already has the ‘weapon’. “ So is this the Purifying Tool that Intel talked about?

“ Identify yourself and turn yourself in” as Aya points her katana to him.

“There’s nothing inside. We’ve been misled” as he crumbled the box.

“So that’s how you want to play boy, say hiya to my little friend” as your other teammate, Suki, uses her weaponed fans to channel her cursed energy to him, as you notice the leader has a unique talisman object to fight back. Aya then strikes from behind him as she looks at you, “ Tsukimoto-san, he has me, it’s your turn to run the show now!” As you prepare your bow and arrow in the air to strike an attack. However while you managed to wore him out, he managed to bounce you the ledge, causing you to black out

———

Gojo Satoru, the man who is blessed by the heavens with the six eyes. As he is the strongest sorcerer in the jujutsu world, he is quite known for his loud, boisterous nature that annoys a lot of people. As he was skipping school for fun, much to Yaga Sensei’ s annoyance.

“Satoru, skipping class again” as his best friend, Suguru, called through the phone. “It will be fine. We are the strongest after all. Besides, how is skipping school going to hurt us” as he walks on the road and hears a heavy sigh on the other side. “ And you question why Yaga scolds you for your antics” as he is one of the very few people who can handle his crazy shenanigans.

As Satoru was about to head towards a plaza, he sensed strong cursed energy along with a loud sound afterwards, he noticed a girl falling from the sky. “Whelp I am heading out” as he ends his call with Suguru as he manages to catch the girl with his technique.

“This isn’t how I imagine angels are sent but she seems out” as he notices that she is from the Kyoto branch and recognizes who she is.

——

As he went back to the campus, Yaga was already there to give him an usual lecture of his antics but only to stop when seeing you unconscious. “I found her falling from the sky, guessing she was attacked by some cursed spirit they were after” as they were heading to the infirmary for you to rest.

As Satoru places you on the infirmary bed, a lot of thoughts start to emerge in his head. “What was I thinking? Why did I bring her here” he asks himself. “She’s a clan kid and part of the sister school in Kyoto. Boy did I do a lot of stunts to get their hands on me. But I couldn’t leave her on her own” as he sits on a chair, as he leans back.

X

Pt 2

[defmaybe]

Let It Happen

Gracie Abrams x Male Reader

4.2k words

A/N: Trying something a little different lol

—

“Aren’t you a little too young to be at this party?”

“I’m just short.”

The thrumming of the electronic music reverberates through the party. Laughter and yelled conversations light the house up with life, tossed through the air, barely making itself through the pulsing music. The place feels anything but spacious. It’s packed. Bodies collide every time someone decides to move, and a slosh of drink spills over the rim. The smells of alcohol, perfume, and smoke fly through the rooms. It’s chaotic. It’s electric. It’s one hell of a party.

“You’d look good with a mustache.”

“It’s itchy, and I’d look like a grumpy old man.”

It’s probably the answer that makes her laugh, covering her mouth with her hand, such slender fingers that she has. She glances down for a split second.

And she reaches her hand out to you. “I’m Gracie.”

She’s a little taller than you. Her long hair drapes down her shoulder beautifully. She has a gorgeous face—your opinion, brown eyes, attractive nose, thin lips. She’s wearing a black, long sleeve shirt that hugs all the right spots of her body. Her jeans also complement that slender shape she possesses.

“I’ve listened to your EP. I miss you, I’m sorry was great.”

“Thanks!” Gracie replies, chuckling softly. She tucks stray strands of her hair behind the ear. “So, who are you coming with today?”

You list out a few names that you consider as your closest friends to her. She nods and hums out a few acknowledgements as you talk about them. The party shows no sign of slowing down. Loud, shaking, crushing bass echoes through the house. Everything around you reeks of alcohol, cheap perfume, smoke, and the house owner’s air purifier. The lights are down low, making everyone here look better by at least ten times.

“Those are nice people. Keep them around,” Gracie says, pointing a finger gun towards you. You find it cute.

You can’t help but smile, swirling the contents in your cup in a losing attempt to get rid of the flush. “Sure, I will.”

“I’m a college dropout, so I’ll probably miss out on a lot of this,” she says, pouting, watching the scene unfolding around her. You’ve heard about her in the interview once—an international relations dropout.

“At least you’re a good artist? Doesn’t seem to be so boring standing there,” you say, shrugging. And she laughs, covering her mouth with her hands once more. Her body bends back slightly.

“Come on, my music’s not that good.”

“Anything I like is good.”

Gracie giggles again, taking a sip from her plastic cup. It’s a small gulp before she puts down her cup. She doesn’t look so drunk yet, while you are having the urge to ride a horse right now. “I’m finding someone to hang out with. Wanna go play FIFA? Or PES? I’m not sure what this house has,” she asks, pointing her thumb towards the unoccupied couch.

“I’m more of a Football Manager person, not really good at those two,” you reply, looking around you for an activity to do with her, until your eyes are set on the vacant foosball table. “Table football instead?”

“Sure.”

—

“So, what are you studying now?”

“Engineering.”

The people surrounding you don’t seem to care about the table much, so it’s just you two turning the handles in the middle of this loud, throbbing party.

“Ugh, my condolences,” Gracie snarks, smiling. Her figures are rolling the ball in front of your goal. It’s important to focus here.

“Thanks.”

And she whips it into the goal so easily, so quick, so painless. Your defenders and goalkeeper don’t stand a goddamn chance on that goal. You make a sound between your teeth.

“Good one,” you say, picking up the ball from the tray to put it in play again. Gracie only responds with a small laugh.

“Why engineering?” she continues, hands still busy with getting the ball in the middle of the table.

“Mom made me.” It’s you who gets the ball, and you’re trying to shoot it from afar. It hits the post, though, and you groan in disappointment. Gracie laughs softly.

“What if your mom didn’t make you choose engineering? Where would you be?” and she kicks the ball from her back row into her midfield, easily piercing through your forwards.

“Filmmaking, I guess? Like your dad.”

Gracie smiles, trying to control the ball in the midfield, before she shoots it from there. Luckily, though, it hits your goalkeeper. She groans as you get to build up your play from the back again. “You have Letterboxd?”

“salmahayekfootlicker sixty-nine, written in numbers.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Gracie snarls playfully, following the motion of the ball in your back row with her forwards. It gets cleared into your midfield, nonetheless. “You don’t seem like a Salma Hayek type.”

“Guess my type, then,” you challenge, flicking the ball to your forward line past her midfield. You let the ball roll between your player figures for a bit.

Gracie shoots you a smirk. You’ll have to admit that she has a gorgeous smile. Maybe it’s the alcohol, though.

“How about me?” she asks, still trying to block the ball with her defenders. You let the ball roll in the forward line for a heartbeat longer. You are thinking of playing it cool here, both on the field and off the field.

“You look good,” you answer, trying to pull some strings as you take a shot, and it gets in the goal. You raise your fists a little as the ball goes in. “Honestly, you look pretty good.”

“Just pretty good?” Gracie looks down slightly at you, repeating your words. She’s trying to make sense of the off-the-table game you’re playing with her here. “C’mon, you know I’m better than pretty good.”

You shoot her a small chuckle, looking up to meet her eyes. “You’re being narcissistic.”

“Being drunk cancels that,” she retorts playfully, before walking around the table towards you. “Wanna go somewhere else? Somewhere–”

And she pauses, letting the electronic music fill in between the vastness of the silence between you two. The thrumming bass lights up your nerves aflame. The shouting and hollering waves in the surrounding air. You’re not so sure what she’s going to say next.

“–quieter.”

Your breath hitches. The word alone sends you into the darkness, lost. You don’t know what to do next, or what to say next. Gracie moves closer and closer to you. Her height feels like a weight pressing on you with every second that passes by. Your hands tremble at the side of your body. Your legs shake so uncontrollably that you almost collapse.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

Gracie seems to notice your body language, at least, and she lets out a laugh—definitely not the one that’s shown to the public, one that’s too loud.

“It’s just the front of the house! Don’t worry. I’m not thinking of sex,” Gracie assures, smiling, reaching her hand out to you. She tilts her head to the side a little. “Come on!”

You let out a relieved chuckle before taking her hand into yours.

“Sure.”

—

“So, what’s after college for you?”

“I–”

You two sit on the lawn in front of the house. The music from the inside can still be heard—those poor neighbors. It’s much quieter than the inside now, at least. The air is chilly. Good thing you’re wearing your sweater tonight.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Bleak,” Gracie huffs, taking another sip from her cup as she looks up into the night sky. You turn to her to get a side profile of her perfect face.

“It’ll probably be where my internship lands me, and I’ll just–roll with it,” you say, taking a look at the contents inside your cup—still almost full. “What about you? Do you think you’ll be a superstar one day?”

Gracie chuckles, still looking up. “I wish.”

She deserves to be among the stars, really.

“Anyone you wanna sing with?”

She looks back at you, smiling, “Taylor Swift.” God, she deserves the whole universe.

You chuckle, making her curl her eyebrows. “Well, you do look like a Taylor Swift girl.”

Gracie feigns offense, a hand on her chest. “You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not, it’s not.”

You look back into the rumbling house. It’s loud. It’s noisy. You feel better being outside like this—less chaotic, quieter, more serene. Someone is ‘walking’ outside and collapses on the grass, and you can’t help but to chuckle softly at the scene.

“Ever been drunk like that?” Gracie asks.

“Thank god I haven’t.”

Gracie then clears her throat, loudly, as if to prepare herself for the next question. She takes another sip from her cup. “So, you’re more of a vanilla type, aren’t you?”

You chuckle, bumping her shoulder with yours. “That feels condescending.”

“It's not my fault you didn’t decide to live,” Gracie retorts, giggling.

“What’s your story, then?”

She clears her throat again. “Well, a year ago, I woke up in a hotel room in just a Strokes t-shirt. Couldn’t remember shit.”

You have to do a double take.

“But nothing scandalous, really. The worst thing that happened was running through the entire floor to find my clothes, that’s all,” Gracie says so nonchalantly, waving off her hand like it was nothing.

“Did your mom and dad know this?”

“Of course not. Nobody in my family knows about that. Just a few friends,” she answers, before lying on the grass leisurely. You lie down along with her.

“Doesn’t look fun,” you say, looking at her.

“Trust me, you’re missing out on a lot of things,” Gracie affirms. “You already have the looks.”

“What look?”

“Uh–” and she pauses, eyes darting away from you, biting her lip before rolling her body to the other side, facing away from you. “I’m not saying it, too corny.”

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” and you chuckle softly behind her.

“No! I’m too shy for that,” Gracie yells, covering her face with her hand.

“I won’t be mad, I promise.”

“Ugh, fine,” she utters, groaning. “Was gonna say that you look handsome.”

Your heart skips a beat as she says that. She rolls herself back towards you, still covering her eyes with her hand. You’re getting flustered as the words sink into your veins. Your pupils dilate. Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do you even do now? A gorgeous woman just complimented you, and now you’re short-circuiting. Say something!

“Guess–Guess I’m not mad,” you manage to stutter out. Your entire body is rigid.

Gracie uncovers her eyes to find you, all red and flustered, and she laughs. “Oh my, you’re all red!” and she pushes your shoulder softly. You have to do a double take to regain your composure.

“Come–Come on, you’re pretty. Of course I–I’m flustered!” you manage to rebuke, taking a sip from your cup to get rid of that apprehension. Her resolve doesn’t seem to falter as you utter the word ‘pretty’, instead even more aggressive with her tease.

“You don’t talk to women a lot and it shows,” Gracie says, moving forward towards you. You can smell her alcoholic breath from here. “Have you ever kissed someone before?”

“Yes! Of course!” you shout. You’ve kissed someone before, but never have you gotten close to anyone as charming as Gracie and it shows. You’re all red and flustered because of her.

“Wanna try it with me?” she suddenly asks, and it triggers your defense mechanism in an instant.

“You’re drunk,” you retort.

“You too.”

You stare into her eyes, those lively brown eyes, and you become lost. She looks nothing short of gorgeous under the night sky. And maybe it’s the alcohol, but she might be the most ethereal woman you’ve laid your eyes upon.

“Fuck it.”

And you kiss her.

Your tongues dance within each other’s mouth recklessly, fearless from being seen. Your hands grip onto her face gently as you kiss her. Wet sloshing sounds ring inside your ears. Your mind goes haywire, being kissed and kissing a woman as beautiful as Gracie Abrams on the lawn in front of a house party. You feel like you’re molding together into one, and you couldn’t have asked for more.

Gracie starts to grind against your thigh, moaning softly into your mouth. “Fuck,” she whines. Her hand pushes you closer to her by your ass as the kiss deepens, before leaving it wandering around your back.

“We should take this inside,” you say into the kiss. You don’t want to get caught for public indecency, after all.

She pulls back, face flushed. The grinding on your thigh halts. “Yeah–yeah.”

—

The lock clicks, and the camera rushes shakily to you two kissing ardently at the door, Gracie pressing you against it. She’s the taller one, after all. Her mouth just reeks of mint and alcohol, so fresh, yet so bitter. Her hands slide under your shirt to feel your taut body, making you moan and whimper helplessly as she takes over you. “So tight, baby. Relax,” she moans into your mouth. Your body is shuddering under her touch as her hands find your erect nipples under the fabric.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Your hands slide under her shirt to find her firm abs. You figure you should feel them in your hands. You wander over her tummy and make her shudder.

“Oh, god,” Gracie exclaims.

You feel her tight abs thoroughly in your hands, trying to feel her as much as possible. Your mind just cannot comprehend how one could acquire such wonderful abs like this. The effort taken, the time spent, the dedication is just unreal. They’re so firm.

Though your instinct has another plan, and your hands start to wander over to her bra-clad chest, touching her tits under the fabric. Fuck, they feel so soft under your hands.

“Fuck. Don’t you ever stop,” Gracie says, airy, breathy. Her hands start to undo your belt, fumbling with it a little before it comes off. She discards your lower garments in a single swoop—gone, forgotten on the floor. Your cock springs free as your boxers are off, precum already leaking.

“You’re leaking, baby.”

“Can’t help when you’re this hot,” you reply, hands sliding under her bra to feel her stiff nipples, making Gracie moan in pleasure as you play with her nubs. Her body is boiling with desire, and you’re the fire.

Her hand wanders down to your hard length, grabbing it. “Mmm, so big,” she utters, sliding your cock back and forth with her hand. Your body shudders as she touches your cock, and you let out a whine from the immense pleasure you’re feeling.

“Fuck, god,” you whimper, barely holding it together with her lips on your mouth and her hand on your cock. Your hands begin to undo the hooks of her bra behind her. It easily comes off, and you quickly get rid of it onto the floor.

Blue.

Your hands quickly work on the locks of her belt, loosening it before taking it off completely. This is easy. You then work on the buttons of her jeans, and it pools around her ankles in just a blink of an eye. You push her underwear aside to insert your fingers into her slit.

Wet.

Gracie’s posture falters in your embrace as your fingers enter her cunt. Her walls welcome you with warmth, contracting around your fingers in a rhythm. She’s already wet for you, and you couldn’t have asked for more from her tonight.

Loud.

“Fuck!” Gracie exclaims into the kiss, her grip on your cock loosening.

You push your fingers deep into her wanting pussy, drenching them with her slick juice, and you curl them up where she needs it the most.

“Right there! Right. Fucking. There,” she says, finally breaking the kiss, settling herself on the crook of your neck, attempting to leave hickeys on it. You groan in pain and pleasure as she sucks the life away from you. Your fingers plunge deeper and deeper into her until you’re fully enveloped inside her cunt. Her hand is still trying to jerk you off under the low lights, but it’s loosening from the pleasure flowing in her synapses.

“So good. So, so, good,” Gracie whines.

Your fingers press on her sensitive spot over and over, each time eliciting a whine out of her lips. Her head falls back from the immense ecstasy she’s feeling, and you make sure to keep giving her that.

“Fucking hell, I’m gonna–”

You quicken your pace, attacking her g-spot as her limbs loosen in your embrace. Her hands are clinging onto your body desperately. Her body trembles in your grip. She’s going to see heaven, and you’re her goddamn angel.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fu–”

Gracie’s body writhes in your embrace, the torrent gushing out of her cunt. Her moans silences the music around you two completely as she cums. Her eyes roll up as you keep finger-fuck her through her orgasm. Her body flushes against yours. You press your lips against hers, letting her moan into your mouth, invading her mouth with your tongue.

She slowly comes down from her high, trying to catch her breath in your arms. She lets out a satisfied smile in the afterglow of her orgasm.

“Need–Need your cock, now,” Gracie utters, still smiling, and you give her just that.

You push Gracie back-first onto the bed. She quickly gets rid of her now-drenched underwear. And there it is, her glistening, unshaved cunt, drenched with desire. She bites her lips playfully, gesturing you to come closer to her onto the bed.

And you do just that.

You climb onto the bed over her, cornering her into the headboard of the bed. Suddenly, with her sheer strength, Gracie flips you over, and now she’s the one on top.

“I’m still the one in charge here, pretty boy,” she teases, raking her hand over your taut body wantonly, and you can only lie on the bed and smile.

“That’s fine by me, Miss Abrams.”

She takes off her long sleeve shirt to make way for your hands on her chest. Your hands instinctively follow onward to her soft tits. Gracie lets out a small whimper at your touch, leisurely grinding against your cock on top of you. God, this feels great.

“Your shirt, baby,” Gracie purrs.

“Oh, shit, yeah,” and you hastily fumble against your shirt in an attempt to get rid of it. In a heartbeat, you’re naked under her.

“What a nice body,” she muses, raking her hands on your taut body, making you shiver. You, in turn, roam your hands over her firm frame. Fuck, what a body she has—nice tits, firm abs. You couldn’t have asked for more tonight.

“You’re quite a catch too, Gracie,” you reply, and she smiles. You pull her closer by the neck towards you for another kiss. Your tongues fight for dominance in each other’s mouth. Her breasts are pressed up against yours, so soft. Your hands roam over her back as she kisses you ardently.

“So good,” Gracie utters, letting herself rest over your body. Her hand grabs your cock before putting it at the entrance of her pussy, brushing the tip with her slick juice.

“Ready?” Gracie asks.

“Fuck, yes,” you huff.

She breaks off the kiss before sitting up on top of your body. Her body is nothing short of insanity—firm abs, perky breasts, unshaved cunt. She’s a goddamn aphrodite reincarnate.

And she sinks down on your cock.

Your hands grips tightly onto her waist as you begin to fuck her, inch by inch. Your body flushes against her furiously. Her tightness is unreal, trying to milk you for all you’re worth. Both of your moans and whimpers fill the room as she sinks down on you.

“Fuck,” Gracie groans, gripping your shoulders ever so tightly. Her body stiffens around your cock. Her nipples erect. Her cunt contracts around you.

“Fuck, so fucking tight, Gracie,” you utter, pushing your hips up towards hers, slowly. Gracie only giggles as a response to your words. And eventually, you two become one.

“So good,” Gracie whines, gripping your shoulders even tighter. They’ll probably leave crescent marks on them. Her mouth opens in pleasure. Fuck, she looks so ethereal.

Slowly, she pulls herself off your cock, making you groan in pleasure. She grips you like a goddamn vice. Then she slams herself down again, making both of you moan in unison.

She picks up her pace, going faster and faster with each stroke. You moan and moan in pleasure as she fucks your brains out with her tight cunt. Her hands leave your shoulders into her hair, eyes closed, mouth agape, and it’s such a fucking sight for sore eyes.

“God, you’re so pretty, Gracie,” you say, unable to make sense of the pleasure coursing through your nerves anymore. Your grip on her hips loosens, letting her take control of the pace on you. Your arms spread leisurely on the bed sheets.

“Oh, my pretty boy,” Gracie says with a pout, caressing your cheeks softly, still riding the fuck out of your cock. She goes faster and faster with each second that passes by, and you can only groan and writhe under her sculpted body. The sight and the sensation are lighting your synapses aflame.

You couldn’t have predicted that today is going to end up with you being under a woman as breathtaking as Gracie like this. It was supposed to be you carrying your friends back to their places. Fuck, what a day.

You thrust your hips up to her body. Wet, obscene sounds of flesh clapping echo through the room. You’re fucking her through and thorough. Your arms are spreading out on the bed as the warmth of Gracie’s cunt sets you on fire. She then bends down to give you a blazing kiss, making wet, sloshing sounds ring inside your ear.

“Fuck, god,” you rasp, grabbing her firm ass to take in the softness of her body. You give her cheeks a slap, making her yelp into the kiss.

“Fuck,” Gracie shouts, and she rides you faster and faster, as if the slap is the catalyst. Her body is burning on top of you right fucking now, and you’re the goddamn Prometheus.

The feeling starts to take over you. You’re close. Your thighs stiffen as her tempo becomes more and more erratic on top of your length. Your moans climb on a scale as you get closer and closer to the peak.

“Shit, fuck, Gracie, I’m gonna cum,” you utter, pulling back from the kiss, toes curling behind her gorgeous body.

“Don’t pull out.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

You ramp up your pace, finishing the job, moaning and whimpering along the way. Gracie slams her hips down on your crotch faster and faster as the seconds go by. Your bodies are taut with desire, so ready for the release.

And you break.

Together.

You see nothing but stars. Your cock spills white seed into Gracie’s womb as she gushes nectar out of her cunt onto your stomach. Your bodies shake from the sheer intensity of your orgasms. Gracie’s hands dig into your skin tightly, definitely leaving red marks on you, but you couldn’t care less right fucking now. Her head falls back, mouth all agape, eyes closed, moaning erratically. Fuck, she just looks so beautiful.

Eventually, your orgasms subsides. Gracie’s chest heaves as she’s trying to catch her breath once more. Her body is all flushed, and you’re the one who made her like this.

She kisses you once more, not the long, messy one like from before, more like a peck on the lips before pulling back. You recollect yourself under her as she drags herself off your cock. Cum drips out of her pussy onto your crotch, leaving a mark of your desire for her.

“That was great, pretty boy,” Gracie says with a chuckle, pinching your cheeks adoringly.

“You too, miss.”

—

Limbs tangled, breaths shared, you���re lying down with Gracie under this nocturne, staring into each other’s eyes. The two of you are still trying to catch your breath after the intense fucking you’ve just experienced.

You know that this will not last longer than a single night. An engineer and an aspiring artist? The gods will constantly try to pull the two of you apart, tangled in your works and all. You can only sigh at the realization. At least, though, it’s definitely something you’re going to remember for the rest of your life.

There might be a universe where you get to do laundry and taxes with her.

You look up at Gracie. She’s smiling, running her fingers along your hair gently. She looks so beautiful under the moonlight, and you couldn’t be happier with where you are right now.

“Hey,” says Gracie, and there’s a certain lilt in her voice. It makes the space between you hum, and a current runs beneath your skin as if she has her own brand of electricity, a different source to tap into. “Do you think I’ll be a star?”

You let the silence linger for a while. It’s complex, really. There’s a lot of things you can’t just say, probably, but you fish out the one that feels right, the simplest one.

“Definitely.”

—

[theother-victoria]

LOVE IS CONCOCTED FROM ESTERS AND KETONES- CH. 00: PROLOGUE

NOTES: I hope this chapter gives you an idea of the setting and what's to come!

TAGLIST: @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii, @harque, @nariism, @vxnuslogy, @akutasoda , @flowery-jazz , @gabile18 , @khoncore

Somewhere within the heart of the universe lies a perfumery on an unremarkable planet, its simplicity belittling its fame. From its exterior, it looks like any other shop on the street. Simple, with a cute sign and clean exterior. They’re closed on Mondays but for the rest of the week, they open at ten am on the weekdays and close at six pm with extended hours on the weekends. 

The inside, however, tells a different story. It’s far more spacious than the outside would lead one to believe. The poor, overworked air purifiers can be heard running 24/7 to prevent the air from becoming suffocating. The shelves go as far back as the eye can see and are stocked with bottles of different colors, sizes, and designs- each of them hefty and works of art in their own right. Each of them have different scent profiles and all of them are handcrafted by the enigmatic owner who formulates and tests each scent in the lab located behind the shop. 

… The test subjects just happen to be the two shop assistants who are more than happy to be their boss’ guinea pigs. 

The shop itself is split into three sections- male, female, and unisex. Perfumes are arranged based on the fragrance family- fresh, floral, woodsy- before being further arranged by notes- green, fruity, gourmand- since people often walk in wanting to smell like a specific note, which the owner and shop assistants are happy to work with. However, there’s a rumor that you’ll get the best results when you come in with an idea, a concept, in mind. 

“I want to smell like worn, old, musty jewelry that’s probably tangled.” There’s a scent for that.

“Do you have anything that smells like a day at the fair as a kid?” Yes, there is.

“How about a warm rock?” Second display case in the unisex section, fifth shelf down, third bottle from the left, the green one. 

There’s also the option to get a custom-made fragrance, although it’ll carry a heftier price tag than the already-pricy wares. But for many, it’s a small price to pay for something that’s uniquely personal to them. 

All of this has led to celebrities, politicians, and other rich and famous people from across the galaxy to flock to this store, which has been the biggest reason for the store’s meteoric rise to fame. It started off as the name being shared among circles and it gradually rippled out from there until it reached the level of renown it has today. Celebrities often quote a bottle from the store as their signature and/or favorite scent in interviews and the paparazzi always snap a bunch of photos whenever a particularly high-profile person leaves the store with a bag in hand. 

Rumor has it that the advertising benefits for the shop are top-tier too, which is why they practically jump at the chance to promote the newest scents. 

But while the shop’s fame is undeniable, there isn’t much known about the owner. They’ve dodged the media’s questions ever since the shop’s popularity exploded and even the two assistants don’t know much besides what’s publicly available. It seems as if they intend for things to stay that way as well. 

Not only do you want to keep your secrets close, but you also want to preserve that sense of monotony that comes with running a business for as long you have. Wake up, get ready, open the store for business, and handle the various customers that come into the shop until closing.

But unbeknownst to you, there’s a wave of new customers coming, each with their peculiarities that you’ve never quite had to deal with before, and they’re interested in more than just your wares.

Keeping your inventory stocked and your heart guarded is your modus operandi for running your business. But between running your business, staying on top of orders, and dealing with these new customers… this may be a difficult task to follow for the foreseeable future. 

the taglist is open for this series and the rest of my works!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[waspabi]

truly busts my gut when i read like "wow SOME OBSESSIVE people think we should LOCK DOWN FOREVER until there is ZERO COVID which is IMPOSSIBLE and there are LOTS OF ILLNESSES THAT RUIN YOUR ORGANS NOT JUST COVID so in fact maybe YOU ARE ABLEIST for appropriating ACTUALLY DISABLED people's CONCERNS" like... (a) honey anyone isn't disabled until suddenly they are and (b) i thought we tested this kind of zero sum fatalism on global warming and found it super unhelpful or...?? why are we jumping to lockdown??? my bro... my buddy... there are...things called masks...that u can wear when ur sick or in close quarters... there are these things called air purifiers... hvac systems...air filtration... omg and things called windows, and when you open them, less people get sick. any kind of sick! isn't that crazy. absolutely wild. i, a teacher of small children, certainly cannot do lockdown and have no interest in doing lockdown and certainly only did it for about 3 weeks, but i can... open the windows? wear a mask? so my children get less organ damage and their teacher can teach them all year instead of going on medical leave? and even if i were not disabled i would still open the damn windows because i would rather my students and i not get any kind of sick...? also brains don't work as well when the air doesn't circulate? the real issue is air quality? this is not a huge drama?

"we had the black death therefore we shouldn't do anything about covid" DO YOU THINK PEOPLE DID NOTHING ABOUT THE BLACK DEATH. do you think people saw cholera and were like, hmm i love shitting my soul out of my body, let's not do anything about the water?? we'll just naturally learn to digest feces??? what is going on here. just find whoever annoyed you annoying like a normal person. it doesn't have to be ideological war.

[chronicbitchsyndrome]

as someone who is anti-authoritarian and also immunocompromised, i think group masking is as important and effective as good air filtration. for instance: in an indoors event where there is good air filtration + ventilation but no one is masking, you can still get covid if even one person attending the event is infectious, because covid spreads through aerosols that can travel distances of over 30 ft. factors like good fit and filtration efficacy (i.e. cloth masks do not filter air effectively, or kn95s that have huge gaps where infectious aerosols from exhalations can be breathed in/out) are also dependent, but if good masking is provided (i.e. events provide well-fitting, high quality masks) and good air filtration is provided, that can help a lot. i agree that structural issues are the problem, but group masking is also important too! <3

sorry, but this is factually untrue. group masking is significantly less important than good air filtration because it is an individual mitigation (meaning many people cannot or will not do it) and because it is not effective enough at stopping transmission of aerosols for it to be an acceptable mitigation for anyone at high risk. the floor is air filtration (and air filtration does not have to be systemic to be an appropriate mitigation; as i said before, an appropriate air purifier can be purchased by an organization or small group of organizers and used for all events at all venues, a one-time expense of (what generally turns out to be) $500 is well within the budgets of most organizations regularly holding community events).

this is what i mean when i say i'm trying to put together a database of accessible information regarding transmission of respiratory infections; the idea that masking alone makes it possible for at-risk people to have access to begin with is a common misconception that i just do not have the capacity to debunk with sources right now because the sources are inaccessibly written and require you to synthesize unrelated information from five or six different sources to understand.

i use the microCOVID project's risk tracker, which is a spreadsheet you can download and program with COVID transmission rates and other data (i.e. vaccination rates) for your locale. the spreadsheet calculates the probability of COVID infection based on specific factors (amount of time of exposure, masking situation, distance from others, number of others, filtration, ventilation, etc). the tool then breaks these down into approximate "points," and gives you a "point budget" based on the probability of contracting COVID within a 365-day period--you choose the probability you are comfortable with. i have mine set to 1%, which is the recommended probability for anyone not at high risk; if i were to go with the recommended high-risk probably, i'd be at 0.1%, which is restrictive enough that it's literally impossible for my life despite the fact that i am objectively high-risk. this gives me about 170 points per week to do all of my daily life activities that expose me to COVID--so including, like, groceries, doctors' appointments, bus rides, everything.

let's do a basic small community event as an example: a three-hour event, indoors, 10 people, all at least 6 feet away from me, everyone including me wearing KN95s.

without air filtration, that is 120 points. that is literally the only thing i could possibly do that week, barring small excursions where i stay away from people as much as possible.

with air filtration, that is 30 points.

and here's the thing: if i am the only person masking, if i am wearing an N95 and everyone else is barefaced with air filtration, it is 67 points. literally EVERYONE NOT MASKING BUT ME is still accessible if there is air filtration. i and the vast majority of other high-risk people can go to community events where NO-ONE IS MASKING if there is air filtration. i am going to write this again in bold text because i really fucking need everyone to understand this: air filtration and NO-ONE ELSE MASKING is literally MORE ACCESSIBLE than no air filtration and required masks.

air filtration is the floor. masks are not good enough and it is not actually harm reduction to require masking, even if you provide good-quality masks. i need to put together this database because i really fucking need people to understand this. i know you mean well, anon, and i appreciate the sentiment, but this exact sentiment is what is making the entire world inaccessible to anyone high-risk and it is actively causing damage to millions of people.