#I just really like that part of rise and how I see it

[artist-issues]

This is the point. It does clearly say homosexuality is a sin in the Bible. You’re just applying your own ludicrous definition of what “clear” means to the Bible, in a way you wouldn’t any other missive.

I told you I’m not doing this with you. Because for all your intellectual frills and “saying it doesn’t make it so, it’s possible to misinterpret,” you’re still just saying, bottom line, “did God really say?”

…I mean, your points are correct insofar as the Bible can be interpreted incorrectly, and has been in certain times throughout history, and we have to be aware of the cultural context. Yeah. All that is correct.

…But then in your reblog you go and say things like, “arsenokoitai is a made-up word.” Or things like “in Deuteronomy 22:25 What is the sin here, is it meeting a young woman, is it meeting a young woman pledged to be married, is it meeting a young woman pledged to be married in the countryside, or is it rape?”

As if arsenokoitai isn’t a compound word. Easily seen and translatable in Greek as such. Sure, it’s “made up.” If words like, you know, icecream, bedroom, and pineapple are made up and nobody can tell what they mean. What lexicon are you using?

As if Deuteronomy 22:26-27, the literal very next verse, doesn’t clearly say what the sin is: “And you are not to do anything to the girl; there is no sin in the girl worthy of death, for just as a man rises against his neighbor and murders him, so is this case. When he found her in the field, the betrothed girl cried out, but there was no one to save her.” Especially when taken in the context of the previous verses as well. The sin is rape. Easily seen. It’s not hard to see. Because the Bible is clear and He does make Himself clear, when you read the whole thing and accept it all as His Word, instead of picking and choosing what you like and dislike, and where to get literal and where not to based on your own likes and dislikes.

If I went into why, and explaining it, and interpreting Deuteronomy 22 for you…it would be me, doing this with you. Which I refuse to do, because it’s so obvious it proves why I’m not doing this with someone who could nitpick at something so obvious in order to make the other obvious parts of Scripture, which they don’t like, look similarly nitpick-able by comparison, and then pretend that it’s somehow “being careful” to do so.

Next, tell me God didn’t mean “die” when He said “you shall surely die” eating from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the Garden. Tell me that wasn’t clear. Tell me what He meant was “you shall be like God, knowing good and evil.” Because otherwise He would’ve “clearly said so.”

See, your actual standards of reasoning are correct, taken by themselves. “We must search for correct interpretation, because it’s possible to incorrectly interpret. We must use context in order to do this. We must be careful.” That’s all absolutely a set of correct interpretive principals.

But then you go and try to give me examples of how to apply those principals and those examples are ridiculous. Just oft-repeated, already-disproven, intellectually dishonest, face-value-nonsensical talking points from the general homosexual-affirming culture who are playing intellectual Twister to try and hold God’s Word and What He Forbids in the same hand.

So I’m not doing this with you. “Arsenokoitai is a made up word.” Give me a break.

You know what I will do? I’ll have this conversation with you privately, if you want to have it. Because then at least I’ll have some indication that you’re looking for truth, not just jumping at the chance to repeat culturally-accepted “interpretation” mantras on any public post that’s non-LGBTQ+-affirming. So if you really want to study the Bible, and you’re most interested in understanding God’s Word, or helping me understand it, let’s do it in the DMs. But if you’d rather debate by nonsensical standards so that you look correct in front of a world that already wants to believe your sin-affirming stance is true, go do it somewhere else.

Not on a post that specifically warns against everything you’re saying.

You thought when people painted the "someday you're going to have to choose, for real, between the World and God, you won't be able to walk the line between both" picture that they were talking about martyrdom.

Some extreme. "Trample this picture of Jesus." "Say you don't believe!" "Convert to a different religion!"

You didn't realize that it wouldn't look like that. You didn't realize that when the line gets drawn in the sand, and Jesus is on one side, the other side would look like crying people wailing out, "why can't you just accept me for who I am? Why aren't I enough for you?"

You didn't realize that the choice would be between Jesus the Truth...or a majority of people in the culture making movies, making t-shirt slogans, changing their names, gently telling you that maybe this word in the Bible doesn't mean what you think it means, maybe love just means love, maybe you can have Jesus and whatever sexuality you want.

"Did God really say...?"

You thought it would be something overt. But the bad guys never said, "hey, choose the dark side over the light." They always said, "hey, maybe you don't even know what Jesus said."

The choice is: "It is the Lord. Let Him do what seems good to Him." OR "Did God really say...?"

That's the choice. This is where the rubber meets the road. This is our "choose this day who you will serve." As for me, I'm serving the Lord, and He's holding on to me. He never changes, and yes He did really say.

Hold fast to the truth. It doesn't change. People and cultures do.

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[sayyestoheav3nn]

You, Again: Part 1/2

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, short mention of abortion, emotional/verbal abuse

Word Count: 3k

a/n: thanks for your patience, it really means a lot 🥹 I hope this isn't a disappointment. still working on part five of nights like this, most likely won't be posted till monday. click here if you would like to be tagged in part two.

Sky spent hours in her room crying into her pillow. She was sick and tired of this constant fucked up routine.

Her mother’s disdain for her progressively grew worse day by day. For as long as she could remember, that woman did everything in her power to make sure she understood that her biggest mistake in life, would always be the day she chose not to abort her.

It was starting to become a nightly occurrence of her drunkenly barging into her room just to belittle and scream at her. 

Her mother’s hatred for her grew immensely as the years went on, to the point where she would find absolutely any reason to take her frustrations out on her.

This included breaking any and everything she could get ahold of in Sky’s room.

Sky knew any attempt to defend herself would only make the situation ten times worse, so she just stayed quiet and accepted it.

Sky could tell she wanted a reaction out of her, which is exactly why she refused to give it.

Maybe life would have been a tad bit easier, if her sister would’ve had her back during these repetitive toxic situations she was forced into. 

But no, her one and only sibling turned out to be an even more evil and vindictive bitch. 

Eva was four years older than her, and it was absolutely no secret that her older sister despised her.

Sky spent many years hoping she would eventually be able to build a relationship with her big sister. 

Unfortunately, she couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Sky remembers that night like it was yesterday. The night where Eva went to the bathroom and her creepy boyfriend tried to make multiple passes at her.

The fact that he knew she was underaged and still chose to hit on her, disgusted Sky to another level. She quickly rejected his creepy insinuations, trying her best to ignore him. 

As soon as Eva stepped out of the bathroom, Sky wasted no time in telling her exactly what happened, not giving two fucks about the fact he was still standing there.

Her boyfriend immediately interjected, saying that Sky was the one who was hitting on him, he painted a story about how she’d been making him uncomfortable for the longest of time whenever Eva wasn’t around.

She remembered the exact lies he spewed, “Baby you know how jealous she’s always been of you, don’t tell me you believe this crazy bitch! Why would I ever do that to you? Let alone in your own house!”

To her surprise Eva looked at Sky like she was fucking insane, Sky could see her sisters anger rising.

“Eva, please don’t tell me you believe him over me…” Sky’s voice cracked as tears started to form in her eyes.

Eva pushed Sky against the wall with all the force she had, causing the back of Sky’s head to slightly start bleeding. 

“If you ever even think to go near him again, I’ll fucking kill you,” Eva sneered.

In that exact moment Sky whole heartedly accepted the fact that she was truly alone, with absolutely no one by her side. 

And just when she had fully given up hope on continuing to live this shitty life, with her even shittier family, she met Joe. 

Joe was a boy who made her whole entire world shift. 

He was her new neighbor, who in a short time of getting to know, became her favorite person. 

As years passed they grew even closer, she was his best friend, and he was hers. 

He was truly a light in her dark world, and there wasn’t a damn thing she’d do to change that.

……….

After another night of the same bullshit fight caused by her drunken mom, Sky carefully stumbled out of her bedroom window making her way across the wet grass that was now starting to soak her fuzzy slippers. Her phone was dead, so she had no choice but to rely on the natural moonlight to illuminate the short path leading her next door.

She lightly tapped on Joe’s window, hoping not to startle him.

Shortly after, he carefully slid his window open. His eyes were low and sunken, a sleepy smile formed on his face.

“Come in.” Joe helped Sky climb in, which basically consisted of him doing all the work in picking her up.

“Shit, sorry for waking you up Joe,” she whispered.

“Sky, how many times have I told you? Never apologize for that shit,” his voice was low.

Joe knew that she had issues with her family, but Sky made sure to never tell him how bad it really was. She knew him well, his hot headed ass would confront them with no hesitation, but that would only end up making things worse for her. 

If Sky’s mom found out about him, she’d forbid her from ever seeing him again.

And that’s something that Sky simply would not allow, so choosing to keep him in the dark, in her eyes was the right choice.

Joe pulled his covers back leaving Sky’s preferred side easier for her to get in.

His bedroom became a safe space for her, it was starting to become a habit for Sky to spend her nights sleeping there. For some odd reason the smell of his sheets gave her a sense of comfort, his cologne scent became soothing to her.

They both laid down on their backs, with their gazes focused on the ceiling. 

Joe was always respectful, making sure he left a small space in between them.

“You wanna talk about it?” He whispered.

“Thanks, but not really,” she sighed.

Joe could hear the sadness in her tone, he knew she was holding something in, but he didn’t want to push her. He believed she’d open up when she felt comfortable enough, so he respected that.

“That’s okay….but know you can tell me anything, Sky.”

She turned her body to face him, “I’m going to tell you something, but promise me you won’t get upset,” she muttered.

Just as Joe was deep in his thoughts admiring Sky’s beauty, beauty in which he was convinced everyone saw except her, her light angelic voice instantly snapped him out of it. “Talk to me, we’ll go from there.”

“This is going to be my last night sleeping here…”

Joe quickly sat up on the bed, with his eyebrows furrowed. Sky could feel his gaze locked in on her. “Why?”

“Joe I know we’re just friends and that we’ve always had boundaries, but you have a girlfriend. It…it just seems disrespectful to keep sleeping here knowing that,” she muttered.

Joe paused in silence for what felt like forever. Sky was starting to get anxious, because the last thing she needed was to cause problems or a rift between them. As regret started to seep in, she decided to try and smooth the situation over.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not together anymore,” his voice was low.

Confusion, that’s exactly what Sky was feeling. This was the last thing she was expecting him to say.

“W—Why didn’t you say anything? What happened?”

“She didn’t like me being friends with you, so she gave me an ultimatum… to choose between you or her.” 

At that Sky stood up, her anxiety causing her to pace the room while so much guilt began to weigh her mind. She felt so fucking bad, knowing that her friendship ended his relationship which was the exact thing she was trying to avoid. 

She swallowed down her emotions as best as she could, which worked to no prevail because she instantly felt warm tears begin to slide down her face. “Joe I-I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t….you shouldn’t have chosen me.”

Joe instinctively walked towards her now seeing that she was crying, he gently grabbed her chin forcing her gaze on his. 

“Sky, there’s no reason to be sorry. It was the easiest choice I’ve ever fucking made.’’

“I—It’s my fault Joe…. I shouldn’t have put you in this situation,” she sniffled. 

“Look at me,” his voice was assertive but still gentle, Sky’s glossy eyes met his.

“The ultimatum wasn’t the only reason I ended things with her, Sky.” 

“Joe, w—what do you mean? I’m confused…..”

He moved some of her hair behind her ears, the way his eyes were glued to her lips gave her butterflies. “I….don’t want to just be friends anymore.”

Sky could feel her heart beating out of her fucking chest. Sure she believed they were close, but in no world did she ever think he thought of her that way. Joe carefully studied her facial expressions, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

“I—”

Before she could speak Joe interrupted. “I’ve always liked you Sky, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, inside and out. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. With that being said… I understand if you don’t feel the same way, my intention isn’t to make you uncomfortable. But, I just needed you to—

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“I want you to kiss me, Joe.” 

Just as he was beginning to lean in, she slightly hesitated while slowly pulling back.

“I’ve.. I’ve never…” Sky was too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

“You’ve never kissed anyone before?”

She shook her head no, her gaze now shifted to the floor. 

Joe lightly brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Sky, it’s just me. I got you, I promise.”

Once she silently gave him the approval, Joe gently pressed his lips against hers, starting off slow letting her get used to the feeling. Her lips were so fucking full and soft, it was going to be a challenge for him to contain himself.

Once Joe could feel her growing comfortable, he began to deepen their kiss. Sky could feel her arousal intensify as the kiss went from soft and slow to something more needy and sensual.  

Without a second thought, he picked her up by her ass, hoisting her on his hips. 

Sky wrapped her legs around him, while doing the same with her arms around his neck. Joe carried her back towards his bed, laying her down gently, while pulling her closer towards him.

To his surprise Sky climbed on top, straddling and kissing him. Joe sat up with his back resting on the headboard, a light moan escaped him when she slid her fingers behind his head, lightly scratching at his scalp.

He slightly pulled away, biting down on his bottom lip, his eyes entranced by that beautiful face of hers. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“Me too,” she grinned.

Time passed, and Joe had no idea how long they spent kissing. It’s almost as if time didn’t exist when she was around him.

They eventually had to stop, Joe refused to get ahead of himself, making sure to prioritize taking things slow with her.

Just as they were about to sleep, Joe got up and walked to his drawer pulling out something plastic, it was too dark for her to tell.

“Shit, I almost forgot.” 

“What is it?”

Joe handed her the light plastic item. “I know you forget to bring it sometimes, so I bought you one to leave here.”

Once Sky shined her phone light on it, a smile formed on her face.

A bonnet. 

Joe went out of his way to buy her a bonnet.

Something so simple, yet so fucking thoughtful made her eyes water “Thank you Joe.” 

She immediately pulled it out the package, wasting no time in putting it on.

Sky kissed his cheek and laid down, Joe pulled her by her waist with his big arms wrapped around her, there was no longer a gap in between. The warmth of his chest on her back was the most comforting thing she’d ever experienced, resulting in her instantly falling asleep.

Since the day he met her, she’d been the only person he thought about. Having her this close to him, internally evoked new emotions for him.

Watching her sleep so peacefully while being wrapped in his arms, brought a smile to his face. In that very moment he made a vow to himself, to always put her happiness first.

No matter what.

…………….

Present

The New York city lights illuminated the busy streets. Sky wasn’t used to being in such a live and ambient city. 

After a shit ton of convincing from her best friend Lori, Sky forced herself to step out of her comfort zone and pursue a new potential career opportunity. It’s something that she had been wanting to do for the longest time, but unfortunately her deep rooted insecurities had her convinced she wasn’t good enough.

She was scared to waste so much time and effort, just to end up receiving rejection. 

Except she was wrong, very wrong. Because after an exhausting few months of traveling around the world and going to so many different try outs, life finally threw her a bone.

Sky had received a message from her agent, informing her that a well known modeling agency based in New York, was interested in flying her in for a week to attend their casting call.

This was an opportunity she was glad she didn’t miss. Lori, being the amazing friend that she is, decided to join Sky to offer her unwavering support.

After being in this colorful, fast paced city for a few days, Sky went in for one last meeting with the agency where they informed her she would officially be signed.

Sky still had the weekend left in this enormous city, so she figured she’d make the most of it. Lori, suggested they try out this new fancy bar to celebrate Sky’s new job.

As they walked in the atmosphere was relaxing, the room was filled with dim lighting and the low sounds of jazz music. Sky noticed diverse groups of people scattered across the room, the air was filled with chatter and laughter, which brought a small smile to her face.

They decided to sit at the stools of the bar, they figured the closer they were, the faster they’d receive their drinks.

To say they were having a good time would be an understatement, Sky was starting to truly enjoy the feeling of being immersed in this vibrant city.

While Lori went to the bathroom, Sky decided to order their third drinks, and as she was waiting she ended up getting distracted with a dumbass reality show, that for some reason was starting to pique her interest.

Just as the boring commercials started to play, she was starting to zone out when out of the corner of her eye she saw a WWE ad.

Sky could instantly feel her breath hitch in her throat. It’s not the first time she’s seen him randomly displayed on tv. 

That’s not the exact reason her heart was racing, while her body felt frozen in place. It’s the fact that the advertisement said he was in this exact area for a press event he had during the weekend. 

Every piece of joy she was feeling prior to this revelation was stripped away.

Lori came back, and with one glance at Sky, she immediately knew something was wrong, “Sky, are you okay?”

Sky cleared her throat, trying her absolute best to play it off. “I’m fine, I promise. I think these drinks are hitting me all at once,” she nervously chuckled.

Lori stared at Sky, seeming completely unconvinced, but she ultimately decided to let it go.

“I’ll drop it for now, only because it’s a big day for you.”

“Thank you,” Sky mouthed.

Sky waited twenty minutes for Lori to finish her drink, her anxiety made it feel like she was waiting a lifetime. Once Lori finished up, Sky asked to leave, using the excuse that she was exhausted. 

Lori paid their tab after refusing to let Sky pay a dime. They started to make their way out of the packed bar, trying their best to maneuver away from large crowds. 

Just as they were close to the entrance door, Lori had to turn around when she noticed she left her sunglasses. Sky was looking back to see if her friend had located them, while still walking forward. 

She decided it would be best to wait outside since the bar was starting to get congested. When she reached to open the door, her gaze was glued to her purse while she dug for her cellphone.

Before she knew it, she accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to stumble back.

She stood up, immediately apologizing, moving to the side as more people walked in. “Shit. I’m so sorry!” 

“Sky?” His voice was low and hesitant. 

In hearing that voice, his voice… she looked up, suddenly feeling the air grow thick. The bar started to feel small, as if it was enclosing around her.

She felt her body go cold, her legs started to feel weak and numb. No words escaped her mouth, she was rendered speechless.

He studied her, noticing she was just as fucking stunning as he remembered. After all these years, the feeling he got when she looked up at him, never changed.

“Sky…” 

“Stay the fuck away from me, Roman,” her voice cracked, while tears began to pool in her eyes. She pushed past him, while quickly walking away.

He knew he deserved it, but hearing her call him by that name fucking stung.

He stopped her by gently grabbing her arm.

“Sky, if you never want to see me again after this, I’ll…I’ll let you be. But please just let me explain,” he pleaded.

“I think it’s a little too fucking late for that,” she scoffed. 

Sky walked out the bar without looking back, quickly texting Lori saying she’d be at a café a few blocks over. Right now all she wanted was to create as much distance as possible, from the man who broke her heart.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Idea | Previous Part

tw: future dom-sub relationship, sexually explicit content, pet names, age gap (early twenties - late thirties)

The moment your eyes connected, you felt the typical blush rise onto your cheeks. The blush that always seemed to come when Mister Riley was nearby. He smiled down at you, the lower half of his face hidden behind a surgical mask, as always, but the crinkle around his eyes betrayed him.

With a quiet mumble of your name and a hand on your lower back, he ushered you forward, until you stood at the other end of the counter, where you had to wait for your drink. Meanwhile, his hand didn’t move, only pulling you against him whenever other people got too close. You tried to tell yourself that this, his behavior, his…almost possessiveness, meant nothing. He was just being nice and polite as always. Just keeping you safe, even if there was no threat nearby.

When you finally received your drink, Mister Riley led you back to your table - you didn’t question how he knew where you were sitting. “How are you doing, love?” Mister Riley got comfortable, taking off his black wool coat and hanging it over the back of the chair next to his, before resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. You on the other hand shifted nervously. All the hope that your little crush had faded in the last few years was gone.

The way he was looking at you sent your heart into a frenzy, beating as if you were running a marathon, when you were just sitting across from him in a cafe. Not even four years of not seeing him could stop the effect he had on you.

When he suddenly raised an eyebrow, you realized you never answered his question. “Oh, uhm…I’m good. A bit stressed, but that’s it.” You tried to smile but weren’t sure if it reached your eyes. By the look he gave you, you could tell that it didn’t. “What about you, sir?” He chuckled, the low sound reverberating in your heart. “How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Simon, huh?” Your face flushed again and you wished you could see his grin through his mask. A stammered answer fell from your lips, but he interrupted you, the joyful expression replaced by a frown.

“What’s stressing you, little one?” The look in his eyes was intense, as if he was ready to kill whatever dared to stress you and the nickname didn’t help the butterflies in your stomach. This means nothing. He’s not interested, goddamnit! Your eyes found a weird carved-in spot on the table in front of you. It was suddenly very interesting. “Oh, you know…just college.” You dared to glance up, just to see his frown deepen, clearly not believing a word you were saying. Suddenly, that one weird, carved spot on the table became incredibly interesting. As you were lightly tracing it with the tip of your right index finger, he reached across the table and gently tilted your head to look up at him. “What’s really going on?” A heavy sigh left your lips before everything just spilled out of you.

How your father just disappeared and stopped sending you the money you needed for the apartment and everything else. How you had to move into the worst part of town ever and how you’ve been looking for a job ever since. You tried to hide just how desperate you were, he didn’t have to know that you had a fantastic ten pounds left in your account right now. And you had already tapped into your savings. Sadly you needed your father’s permission to tap into the fund he had sat up for you.

Mister Ril- Simon listened quietly, concern evident on his face as you jumped from one issue to the next. And when you were done, he pulled out his wallet. Your eyes widened immediately and you started to shake your head as he held out what looked like a credit card. “No, no. Mister Riley, no, I can’t accept that, I-”, before you could continue your protests, his fingers closed around your chin again and held your mouth shut. “You’re going to be a good girl, take this card and say thank you, okay? And call me Simon.”

Heat immediately rushed to your core, the gravely tone doing something to you, as you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat. With the tight grip on you, you couldn’t move your head too much, but it was just enough for a slight nod. A grin formed under that mask again and he let go, pulling his hand back, but not without letting his fingers linger slightly. “Good girl.”

You swallowed again, noticing how his eyes immediately jumped to your throat. In the moment you weren’t sure if you imagined them turning darker for just a moment before he looked back into your eyes. The two of you held the eye contact for a few moments, before you broke it, once again looking down at that one spot. He cleared his throat, the awkwardness in the air disappearing when he started talking again.

“I want you to use that card for whatever you need, okay? You’re in college, I want you to concentrate on your studies, you hear me? And if you need more, just say the word.” You nodded again, already knowing that you’d continue with your job hunt as soon as he left. And that you would definitely not be using that card for, like, anything. As much as you appreciated him wanting to help, you knew that you could do it on your own.

“Also, about that apartment-” He was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking against the floor of the cafe. Both of you looked up as a gorgeous woman, similar age to his, walked up, smiling, and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you almost done, dear? We still have that meeting with-”, she glanced at you and quickly corrected herself. “-that meeting we have to get to.” Your eyes immediately focused on the sparkling ring on her finger. It was beautiful, even if a little too sparkly for you. Simon looked up at her and smiled. “Of course, dear. I’ll be right out. Tell Johnny to keep the engine on.” The woman nodded and smiled one more time at you before she left.

She seemed kind, but the jealousy that bubbled in your veins wanted you to hate her. From what you had just witnessed, you doubted you could. “I’m sorry, but she’s right, I have to go. Give me your phone.” Too stunned to do anything but comply, you unlocked it and handed it to him. He quickly put something - his number you assumed - and rung himself, before handing it back. He stood up and put on his coat, looking at you one more time. “Ring me if you ever need something, okay? And be a good girl and do as you’re told.” He leaned over, grasping your chin one last time and making you look at him. You weakly nodded, your mind still hung up on the gorgeous wife of his.

His eyes narrowed, but after a second of hesitation, he too nodded, before pressing a gentle kiss against your cheek, through his mask. “Be good.” And with those words, he pulled back, turned around, and left the cafe, while you just sat there, staring at the door he walked through and thinking to yourself ‘the fuck was that’.

Next Part

A/N: Really enjoyed writing this part. I hope you like it!

@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld @msjaeger @oreojenni @starlightmoon2020 @piconico17 @l1lpip @originalsoulcollector

[captain039]

PART 7 LAST PART Unconventional Alpha

Alpha!Viktor x omega!reader

Warnings: Heats, suppressants, AOB, light swearing, Viktor’s not dying but still disabled, reader has chronic pain, plus size reader, nesting, Older Viktor, Professor Viktor, artistic reader, age gap reader is in their 20s +, smut?, oral f receiving

Previous part <-

It’s a routine eventually, he gets up, makes you breakfast of simple toast and butter, brings you your meds before lying back down in your nest. He simply holds you during these times, his fingers gently detangling your hair his other hand resting on your hip or waist. He sleeps with you at night, his long lean body wrapped around your bigger frame. Your heat isn’t as bad now, probably having an alpha close pretty much 24/7 has done its trick. By the seventh day you feel better, you don’t sweat as much, the need goes to a simmer and your flare up goes down. You shower properly, feel better about yourself and even do some art out in your small lounge area of your dorm room. Viktor goes back to his work once he sees you up and about, catching up assignments and whatever else professors do no doubt. By the tenth day you’re fine, your heat is gone, you feel different though, calmer with Viktor around like he was always meant to be there. Being off your suppressants too makes you feel more like yourself, rather than suppressing your omega nature. Viktor goes back to class on the eleventh day as do you, you hope to avoid any rumours or anything but highly doubt that nobody didn’t talk. So you keep a low profile, not that your profile wasn’t low anyway, you just make it extra low. You go back to the doctors and Dr Marion confirms you’re in the clear and able to take your suppressants again as long as you don’t double dose again, which you will not. You sit in the cafeteria around lunch, earphones in as you listen to some music. You notice a small band approaching though and frown a bit hoping their walking past with no such luck. You take your earphones out.

“Hi?” You say.

“What’s it like to fuck a professor?” You almost joke on your food at the blunt question and feel your embarrassment rise up.

“I didn’t- do that” you say, who even was this woman?

“That’s why Professor Viktor was in your dorm for eleven days huh? You smell fresh out of heat too” she crosses her arms over her chest.

“I-“ you didn’t think this far ahead.

“You should leave before I decide to make you all fail my class” You tense up a bit at the sound of Professor Talis behind you and glance back to him briefly. The students walk off though and you sigh.

“Y/n? Right?” He gives you a smile.

“Yeah” you answer.

“Can I sit?” He asks and you nod. Great now two Professors that aren’t yours are suddenly talking to you in the cafeteria.

“How you feeling?” He asks and you tense up at the question.

“I just meant your overall well being I wasn’t-“ You watch as Professor Talis stammers over his words and goes a shade of red over his tan skin.

“I’m ok” you nod and he sighs in relief nodding.

“That’s good” he smiles.

“Viktor’s caught up in some meetings for the day” he explains as he starts to eat his lunch.

“Oh, thanks for letting me know” you say nodding picking at your food feeling awkward.

“I’m making you uncomfortable” he says.

“No- it’s ok” you say.

“No, it’s not, two professors that aren’t yours talking to you in cafeteria puts a target on your back for rumours” he smiles gently and you nod not sure how to answer.

“In all honesty I’m an admirer of your art too, I’ve seen it in the academy gallery” he says and you perk up.

“Really?” You ask and he nods smiling.

“Yeah it’s amazing, and the one in the council room? I could never paint like that” he chuckles and you feel a smile on your lips.

“Just practice” you shrug.

“No, you’re hell of an artist, like seriously talented” he says and you feel warm at the praise. It’s been hard to accept praises from people about your art, always looking at it and finding mistakes in tiny details.

“Well you’re a seriously talented inventor” you chuckle and he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly with a cute smile.

“Only sometimes” he grins. You feel at ease as you talk more, Professor Talis going on about your art work like a fan boy it makes you smile having only seen him as this super smart tough inventor who invented a hextech hammer and gauntlets. You loose track of time before his watch buzzes.

“Shit” he says standing up abruptly.

“Sorry, I gotta go I’m late to my own damn class” he says and you laugh waving him goodbye as he rushes.

You return to your own art class for the day lost in the strokes of the brush before you realise it’s late. Your stomach grumbles for food as you stand and you glance to the clock before heading to the cafeteria. Your heart rate increases a bit seeing a familiar figure there sitting down at your table. You grab a tray of food before walking over.

“Can I sit?” You ask watching the alpha lift his head a small smile on his face as he nods.

“Was starting to think you weren’t coming” he says as you sit down.

“And miss dinner? Who do you take me for?” You tease and he chuckled softly.

“Of course” he says. You look at him for a bit before you look at your food and start eating it.

“Professor Talis sat with me at lunch today” you say.

“Jayce did?” Viktor says frowning a bit and you nod.

“Had a rather blunt rumour of me uh fucking a professor and Professor Talis said he’d fail them all if they didn’t leave” Viktor’s frown narrows.

“I didn’t say anything - if you’re wondering I haven’t-“ you trail off stuttering a bit.

“I know you didn’t, I’m just-” he sighs.

“You’d think in a place such as the academy silly rumours would be a thing of the past where people used their damned brains for once” he sneers a bit and you smile.

“Damned brains huh?” You say and he looks to you his frown softening.

“Indeed” he smiles.

“I’m sorry if I caused any problems” you say poking your food with your fork.

“Look at me” he says and you do.

“I don’t care what anyone says, they want to talk let them, you needed me in a vulnerable time and I’m happy you trusted me, any alpha would’ve been privileged to-“ he frowns a bit suddenly.

“What?” You ask quietly.

“Would you like to go on a date?” He says his eyes staring into yours and you forget how to breathe.

“A date?” You ask and he nods.

“Like a date, date? Outside the academy?” You continue.

“Yes” he says.

“You want to go on a date with me?” I smiled a bit and leans forward.

“Yes Miss Y/n Y/l/n I would like to go on a date with you” he says softly.

“Why?” You blurt stupidly.

“Because the thought of you finding another alpha makes me want to use my cane for violence than aid” he says seriously and you burst out laughing at the sudden imagery of him attacking someone with his cane.

“And I do enjoy seeing you laugh” he says more softly and you feel your cheeks warm.

“I also do love enjoying being the one who makes those pretty cheeks of yours go red” he says voice dropping lower making you warmer.

“I could go on, however….” he trails off and smirks and you see the cockiness in it making you glare at him.

“I want to be the only one buried between those gorgeous thighs of yours” he whispers and he’s right you’re no doubt red as a tomato. You reach over and slap him and he smiles taking your hand in his instead, his fingers gently running over your hand.

“But I am serious, the thought of another alpha with you, staying with you in that time made me realise I want you, and I’m hoping you want me too” he says his voice soft as he gently caresses your hand.

“So, will you go out on a date with me?” He repeats and you nod. He smiles brightly, full teethed and natural, you see his slightly crooked teeth as he lifts your hand to his mouth and he kisses your knuckles.

Taglist:

I hope you enjoyed this story!

@imithicwolf

@donnie-is-here

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@sseleniaa

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[thanosscross]

Fanboy - Choi Seung Hyun/ T.O.P x reader part 1

Summary: After rising as a k-pop star as the newest member of BigBang, your management team suggests taking on an acting role as well, where you meet one of your best friends old friend, Seung Hyun, who quickly charms you, all while neither of you knew you were both going to the same person to rant about each other.

Warnings: none, some really toothrotting fluffiness

Walking onto the squid game set you gasped in awe, yea you had played in sold out arenas, had thousands of people lining up to meet you, but this was your first time acting, but your PR team swore it'd help boost your image while waiting for your new single to drop. As you looked around in awe you failed to notice the eyes that immediately landed on you, or the two boys in the corner fanboying over the fact they worked with you.

Seung Hyun looked at his co-star in shock "Why are you so freaked out? Shouldn't it be the other way around?" His new friend asked, knowing the dynamic between you two, A few months after T.O.P had stepped down from bigbang, the agency was quick to bring in a replacement, again shaking the K-pop world whenever his replacement was a girl. "No, she's amazing, and she treats the boys amazing" Seung Hyun shrugged his friends comment off, it wasn't that he was a huge fan, but he did happen to follow you on social media and watched a few of your live performances on his phone, and seeing how you interacted with the boys he considered brothers warmed his heart.

Your eyes quickly met his as you rushed over excited "Oh my- You're- I'm-" You kept cutting yourself off with excitement, he couldn't hide his smile as you failed contain to your excitement, feeling happy to know you weren't one of the k-pop stars that chose to shun him for his past actions. "I'm Choi Seung Hyun" He smiled offering his palm to you, causing you to blush as you watched him press his lips to the back of your hand "I-It's an honor, Mr. Choi" You smiled, proud of yourself for remembering your manners even in your panicked fangirling state, Seung Hyun gasped holding a hand to his chest chuckling "Please! I'm not that old! Call me Seung Hyun" He laughed, returning your hand as he offered the way "They want us all ready to film soon, want to wait with us?" He offered, you smiled nodding softly, starting to talk about your characters.

Whenever filming started, you were upset to find out your character wouldn't interact with your new friend's until later on in the filming process. It went by rather quickly though, using your free time to read over your lines to try and get the best performance possible, I mean, acting for tv was just like acting for your shows right? You were good at acting, You and Ji-Yong had an entire fake relationship currently, per your managements request. As you read over you first scene though you frowned, why didn't you management tell you about the 'stunts' in the script? Walking onto the film set for red light green light you went to find your marker in the large group of people "Okay! Extras! You have timed blood packs! This scene we're gonna focus on Thanos's shove and the introduction to Y/n's character Yi-mon!" The director shouted into the speaker, you watched as the camera positioned close to Seung Hyun's face and yours and one at about knee length for you. "Action!" You heard, Standing up straighter you heard the doll recording play saying red light, Seung Hyun looked for his cue before shoving the line of stuntmen and women down "Tag" He smirked as the blood packs splattered, the blood landing on his cheek perfectly for the scene, You grunted as you landed on the ground with a thud, looking at Seung Hyun in fear, waiting for your characters pack to go off, the director motioning for you to stay down as Seung Hyun smirked "Tag, Senorita, you're it" He smirked, jumping over you as the doll called greenlight "Cut!" the director shouted "That was perfect! First try!" He cheered, Seung Hyun just turned around, quick to kneel at your side helping you to your feet, brushing the sand and dirt off of your knees and palms "Are you okay?" He asked softly, not wanting to hurt 'Korea's sweetheart', lord knows the backlash he'd face for that. "Aw, you're so sweet" You giggled, hugging him gently "I'm okay, nothing I haven't dealt with before, plus it's been awhile since I played some real tag" You joked, he just chuckled shaking his head helping you to the side set waiting for your next scene.

As it approached your last scene for the night, you marveled at the set, every bunk bed and tile had so much detail in the main room, it was amazing. As you moved to your marker Seung Hyun was quick on your tail, ready to finish up for the night and sleep, you on the other hand were ready to get out of here and call your best friend for not warning you how charming his best friend was. "Action!" Your director tiredly called "Thanos, get away from me" You snapped as Seung Hyun smirked walking closer to you "You owe me money- I'm sorry but do I need to call her a...B I T C H?" he asked, spelling out the word as he didn't even want to use it in the same sentence he used to speak about you. "Yes Seung Hyun! Start from the top!" Your director shouted, Your friend frowned at you before going back to his original marker.

"Thanos, get away from me" You snapped, Seung Hyun stepping closer to you as he glared at you "You owe me money, bitch" He spat, his hand going to your throat, squeezing gently "That money was mine and you know it" You argued, standing on your tippy toes to try and make it more believable "You're gonna get me my money, or I swear, I'll kill you before these walking pink fucking idiots get a chance to" He seethed, your breathing increasing as genuine fear flashed over your face "Cut!" You silently thanked your director for calling cut as you stepped back down on your feet looking at your friend "Are you okay? I wasn't too harsh on you was I?" He asked gently, you chuckled shaking your head "No, I'm okay Seung Hyun..I promise" You said sweetly, he was started to realize you weren't anything like how you acted on stage, on stage you seemed so confident and cocky, loud and outgoing, but in person you were so quiet and sweet, nothing like how you were from what he saw on videos and interviews. "Can I walk you back to your trailer?..." He asked, resting a hand on your shoulder causing you to blush "Of course, who knew you were such a gentleman" You giggled, you were under the same impression as Seung Hyun, other than what your friends told you, you only saw performances of Seung Hyun's, seeing him as a performer who was confident and cocky, like he knew everybody wanted to fuck him, and he loved it, but instead you were learning Seung Hyun was a huge softie, flirt, and gentlemen.

As you got into your trailer you wished Seung Hyun a good night before immediately facetiming Ji-Yong, not caring if you woke him up, you needed him, and as your fake boyfriend he had to answer. You watched as the screen changed, showing a dark room with your best friend's face being illuminated by his phone screen "Y/nnnn, I'm sleeeeping shhhh" He whispered into the phone before going to roll over before you stopped him by tsking him "No! You don't get to! You never told me about Seung Hyun!" You shouted, quickly covering your mouth realizing he could still be close to your trailer "Awww does baby y/n have a crush" Ji-Yong teased, you groaned dropping your head into your pillows "No! He just- So!" You continued ranting to your friend for another two hours before eventually falling asleep, not waking up again until you heard three soft knocks on your door "Come in!" You shouted still half asleep, already being used to the boys always coming into your room for some reason while you slept, it became easy for you to shout come in in your sleep, which is how Seung Hyun ended up standing in your trailer while you slept peacefully.

It took Seung Hyun fifteen minutes to successfully get you awake, it only taking him two whining fits and being called Ji-yong and a bitch four times to do it. You sat on the bed tiredly rubbing your eyes as you slowly became aware of everything, including your makeup and costume ladies standing in your trailer now instead of your co-star.

As you walked onto set you were exhausted, filming for a show was a lot more draining than performing you felt as you approached your chair. You ignored everything as you curled up into your chair tiredly laying your head on your knees watching the others film their scenes. As you started to doze you heard two familiar voices approach you "Jagi, what time did you go to bed?" Seung Hyun asked teasingly, you just glared at him as you yawned "My friend and I were talking most of the night" You explained before closing your eyes to rest them, totally not falling asleep. You woke up as your director shouted your name "Y/n! We need you for Six legs!" He shouted, you quickly scrambled over to your mark, trying to rub the tired from your eyes "S-Sorry!" You shouted, trying to avoid everybody's gaze as you stood on your mark watching your co-stars stand on theirs. "Action!" Your director called out loudly, Seung Hyun smiled at you crossing his eyes "Excuse me, senorita, would you like to join my team" He asked, raising his eyebrows towards you "Depends...Have you collected the infinity stones?" You asked seductively, tilting your head "Of course! I'll destroy anybody who stands in the way of my greatness!" He shouted moving his hands around to show his nail polish to the camera "As long as you idiots don't get me killed" You sighed before walking to your next mark "Dude do we really need a chick on our team?" Your friend asked Seung Hyun, Seung Hyun smacking his chest in reply "Shut up, don't ever question Thanos's decisions" He snapped before following behind you biting his lip "Cut!" You director called, you stood out of frame smiling as you hugged Seung Hyun tightly "That was awesome! I swear you're amazing as Thanos" You giggled as he just shook his head laughing, holding you tightly. "Hey..After filming..Do you want to maybe come by my trailer? I've got some wine that I've been wanting to try" Seung asked softly, instinctively holding your hips in one hand while placing his other hand on your lower back. You blushed brightly trying to suppress your giggles "S-Sure!" You smiled nervous, desperate to get the film day over now.

-

What do we think, lovelies? I think I'm gonna put out a Thanos fic next, just not sure what type yet

--

Taglist!!

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@heartz4rubyy

[whatevertheywant]

I have a theory that probably isn't new,but I think that Galinda probably had a very lonely childhood and may not have actually been popular until like 8th-10th grade. She was obviously doted on and surrounded by yes-men from an early age,but I think she empathized with elphie from the beginning. I also think she was scared to express that for fear of losing the image she had so carefully crafted. She feels all this "loathing" as well as love towards Elphaba because she sees everything she still could be if she were braver...unfortunately this also includes becoming a pariah. Mind you,she does make wisecracks about elphie being green but they both enjoyed their little spat in history class. That Ozdust dance scene really seems to drive it home with how she joined Elphaba's dance. Okay,that might have been out of remorse for setting her up like that,but the comforting???? The wiping her tears and the embrace???? Ignoring her toxic ass friends trying to get her to stop when she's usually all about image???? Her doing the most to secure her date and position of love interest with fiyero only to ditch him entirely to run off with Elphie????

And THEN we get the Popular sequence. It's not just a flirty or silly little number (it is those things but it's more than that). Popularity has helped her rise up the social ladder despite a lack (at the time) of talent. Her ambition to become a sorceress is altruistic if also self-serving. She wants to actually DO and BE good and feel like the adoration she seems to acquire so easily has been earned. She tries to help Elphaba become popular because Elphaba IS good and has so much talent. BUT Elphaba lacks social skills and isn't conventionally attractive. Elphaba gave her a leg up towards her goals by not only insisting Galinda be in the seminar as well but also THREATENING TO QUIT THAT INSTANT if morrible didn't include her and give her the training wand. They both spend the rest of act 1 bar like a couple of scenes helping each other advance until they have to part ways inevitably. That's love born of empathy and understanding. The "galindafying" was her protecting Elphaba and literally the best gift she was able to give in return

[calirph]

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. all these sentences come from a search on goodread's keywords for fantasy romance and romantasy. please change names, locations and pronouns as you see fit. some of these might be suggestive.

“Rejection is an opportunity for your selection.”

“But I will not run. I wouldn't be standing here if I'd quit every time something seemed impossible to overcome. I will not die today.”

“There is no me without you.”

“They say the soul cannot rest until it finds its match. Then it ignites.”

“You don't love someone because they're a dream of perfection. You love them because of the way they meet their challenges, how they struggle to overcome. You love them because together, you bring out the best in each other.”

“Do you make it a habit to compliment everyone who's trying to kill you?"

“Do you really want to put yourself through this? Is loving me really enough to endure everything you have to just to be with me?"

“Make no mistake, little human. You are under my protection now, and I protect what is mine.”

“Love is when you’d rather see someone one last time and die, than never see their face again.”

“You are sweet to be so concerned over my love life, but I’ve decided only to date guys who have bigger swords than me.”

“Laire, get back here! You do not drink before we meet with our mortal enemy.”

“She's magic, Cassandra. A single flower blooming in an endless desert.”

“I bring you the whole of my heart at the rising of the moon and the setting of the stars.”

“You're exquisite. You're transcendent. And you are mine.”

“Fight me, love. You'll need the strength at the pass. Let that power fly."

“Gods, there seemed to be nothing more humiliating than being attracted to someone who didn't feel the same.”

“Call him. Claim him. Speak his Name. Make him thine before all others.”

“They were all short lives. She'd just wanted to spend more of hers with him. She'd just wanted more time.”

“You could never hate me as much as you want me.”

“That’s the thing about life. To know there’s an end, to be unable to run from it, but to live anyway.”

“I would fetch you the moon if only to spare your tears again”

“I am Death. And you are a fool. I hope revenge is worth it.”

“They despise us because we are Immortal, but it is the blood that runs through our veins ...That they fear.”

“The time for hiding is over. The time for fear is over. The time for action is now.”

“You are powerful by birth but have it in you to be good by choice.”

“It's not protection, little dragon. It's a claim. You're mine. No one touches what belongs to me.”

“Maybe you’ve know what it’s like to be at the bottom, but I doubt you’ve known hell.”

“How can I even look at any other guy on campus when you’re always on my mind? Literally.”

“Love is a not a weakness.”

“My future had been set for me before I was old enough to question it.”

“No one doubts your honourable nature, most noble of kings and best of brothers.”

“When you erupt, girl, make sure it is felt across worlds.”

“Be everything you truly are. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you, my silver one.”

“But if we don’t have peace, we shall have you.”

“Oh, Gesela, do not pretend you despise my attention.”

“He was beautiful and cold, like winter…”

“Answer my question. Send to my will. Why have you come, sweet one?”

“When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begin's to stare back at you.”

“Iron is made stronger in the hottest part of the fire, Seth. You didn't break me, you forged me.”

“The whole damn world could burn, and I would still love you. When everything dissipates, you're the only thing I see. You've always been.”

“I’ll happily play the villain if you’re my reward, Mareina.” 

“This realm’s moon hung on the skies, mine laid beside me, smiling and radiant.”

“If you're going to lie, make it a good one.”

“No one is killing my king tonight.”

“My beautiful Olivia, you are the moon of my night sky, beaming light and beauty into my life.”

“That’s it, my bride. Take your pleasure.”

“Perhaps, but the mind is also a powerful force. What you believe, you often see. And what you hope, often comes to be.”

“Patience is about as foreign to me as mercy."

“Remember that you are a wolf. And you cannot be caged.”

“I would have suffered a thousand more years to be with you.”

“It’s not easy to ignore an unfinished day that has been set on reminding you of its bitterness.”

“We aren't anything like strangers anymore, and certainly nothing like enemies. Compassionate like friends. Tender like lovers.”

“All or nothing. In dreams as in life.”

“You need me because I am the Queen of Ithicana.”

“You are mine, mo krrá. The same way that I am yours. From now until the end of time.”

“She would not be mastered by anything again; she was the master of herself.”

“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me..”

“I may be evil but I do have a heart, Princess. It belongs to you. “

“There's no room for doubt on the wings of birds, let alone on the mane of moon dust.”

“I'll say it again. I don't care what you are. I care about who you are.”

“Your wish is my command, my queen.”

“I thought all you princes wanted was demure virgins you could pluck for the first time."

“Power was poison, one that slipped beneath the skin and which could turn even the purest soul into a wicked monster.”

“Love was a lethal weapon that rivaled the sharpest sword. It cut directly to the heart.”

“Morgan Pendragon is far from insignificant. She's a force of destiny and you would do well not to trifle with her or ever let her name cross your lips again.”

“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you,"

“That was what it meant to have power, wasn't it? You could simply destroy that which didn't serve you.”

[devildomditzy]

“You gotta starin’ problem or what?”

“Huh?”

You jump at the sound of his voice, his words hitting you like a jolt of electricity, recognition that he’d caught you gazing at him washing over you like a bucket of ice cold water, sending a chill to your spine. The suddenness finds you trying your best to look nonchalant, moving your arm out from under your chin where it supported your head while your eyes tore into him, daydreaming. You brain fails to catch up with your movementsin time, leaving to to smack your forehead directly on the desk, earning you a few strange looks from classmates around you.

“Geez, you’re clumsy. You’ve got your work cut out for ya if you wanna make sure ya don’t die down here.”

You glare at him, rubbing the newly forming mark adorning your skin. “Aren’t you supposed to make sure I don’t die down here?”, you ask incredulously.

“Sure”, he shrugs at you, “but it ain’t my fault if ya get mauled cause you were too busy staring into space.”

You try your best to look annoyed, but ultimately end up frowning, holding the affected area with your hand, choosing to look straight down at your desk. Anywhere but at him.

You hear a loud sigh, one you were sure was accompanied by eye rolling though you didn’t see.

“Lemme see ya.”

“Huh?!”, you shift in your desk, blush apparent as you try to hide your shock. “R-Really, I’m fine Mammon!”, you say, trying to shoo him away with one hand.

But of course, that doesn’t stop the second born as he bats your hands away from your face, replacing them with his own as he moves you bangs to the side to see the extent of the damage.

He makes a small ‘tch!’ sound under his breath and suddenly rises to his full height, standing up and sticking a hand out to you.

“C’mon”, he says. One word, super matter-of-factly. By his tone alone, you can’t tell if he’s annoyed, uninterested, or upset by this turn of events - but it was definitely one of the above.

But, by the blush on his face, you can tell that was far from how he truly felt.

“We’re goin’ to the nurse’s office. Can’t have my human gettin’ all banged up.”

He avoids looking at you while saying it. You feel yourself heating up at the phrase, heart beating faster, excitement and fear rising in a beautiful mixture of the two. You reach your own hand out to take his own, eyes shining in anticipation-

“I mean, then who will be The Great Mammon’s servant?”

Ah. There it is.

That’s right.

Mammons not into you. There’s absolutely no way he would be, right? You’re just an obligation to him, maybe an acquaintances best. You’re not even sure you could call him a friend. If he’d even let you call him a friend.

He’s only caring- pretending to care - because he has to. He has to or Lucifer will have his head, right?

He notices your hesitation and takes your hand in his own, surprisingly gently.

He has to…right?

Days have passed since then, and though you still feel like Mammon’s actions were forced, a little part of you wants to believe. Believe that he meant it, believe that he cares about you, believe that he could maybe feel some type of way towards a human. That type of way.

You’ve been enamored by him from the get go. And though his attention was given more as a favor than as an act of kindness, you still vied for it, craved it.

You find yourself putting a little more effort into your appearance, hoping to catch his eye. Hell, you even consider maybe tripping and falling in the hallway, or bumping into a desk. It did work the first time…

Weeks pass and you don’t have to fake an injury to see if he’ll look your way. No, you didn’t have to do a thing. Belphie’s got you covered, currently holding you over a stairwell by your neck, claws digging into your skin, puncturing it in multiple places, causing more blood to drip down your body onto the tile floor below. Your pain being drowned out by your current and urgent need to breathe.

You hear the sound of multiple screams and gasps, Lucifer’s stern voice threatening his youngest brother, a clear sound of panic being hidden within. Asmo’s worried wails calling out both your and the seventh brother’s name, Beel’s confused and tired voice, happy to see his twin but not understanding why you were being attacked. Surely, the person attacking you, that couldn’t really be his brother, could it? Satan’s fear, actual literal fear, something you never see in the fourth born, showing through his shaking voice. Levi’s hyperventilating, his breath not being able to quite stabilize due to the scene before him.

And Mammon.

You hear every emotion in Mammon’s voice.

You hear his unbridled rage, screaming his youngest brother’s name at the top of his lungs. His worry, calling out your own name the sight of your bleeding, mangled body as Belphegor drops you to the floor and you collapse in a heap. His sadness, running over to you and scooping you up, a shell of your former self he just saw ten minutes ago, perfectly fine. His regret, not being there to protect you, not hearing your screams. How long had you held out fighting against his brother . If only he was fast enough…

And finally, the sound of his spirit breaking, clutching at your shoulders, trying his damnedest to shake you awake as your pulse began to fade. Covering himself in your blood as he held you to his chest and shook.

You use the last of your strength to reach out, caressing his face, causing him to look up with tears in his eyes, startled. He grabs on and clutches to your hand so tight, you’d think it might break too.

“Hey. I finally got you to look at me”, you sputter out, smiling at him before you take your last breath.

Except it wasn’t your last breath.

Thanks to Barbatos, you’re still alive. Timeline manipulation was something you didn’t like to think about too deeply, or you’d start spiraling.

But all the same, you stood there, alive.

As your corpse disappeared from his arms (and this timeline), Mammon rises to his full height, grabbing you fiercely and pulling you tight to his chest, breaking down with you in his arms.

It wasn’t long after that he finally told you how he really felt about you.

Now months and years have passed, and you couldn’t be happier, and neither could he. The second born loves you more than you could ever know.

So, the next time you hear him say to you -

“You gotta starin’ problem or what?”

You don’t shy away. You reach a hand out in the middle of class to caress the back of his neck, uncaring about your classmate’s judging looks.

“Of course I do. How could I not stare at The Great Mammon.”

He blushes, trying to hide the smile of his face as he shoos your hands away.

“That’s right, shouldn’t a servant always be lookin’ at their master?”, he asks with a cheesy smile, bolstered personality returning to him.

“That’s right”, you smile back. “That’s why you’re always staring at me, right?”, you tease right back.

“Shuddup.

Ah. There it is.

That’s right.

Mammons into you. There’s absolutely no way he wouldn’t be, right? You’re everything to him, maybe his whole world at the very least. You’re not even sure you could call him just a friend. He’d let you call him more than that for the rest of time.

[luvleyshif4]

Pt2

bf!Rafe Cameron x gf!Reader

Summery~ bf!rafe coming back home from work to find a flustered and horny gf!reader but she can’t say it cause she’s shy.

Content~ NSFW, Smut, Sexual content, Mature theme, use of words like baby/beautiful, neck kissing, humping, oral sex (f!receiving), kissing, comforting, 18+.

Author’s Note~ HEYY omg so this is like my first smut so I don’t even know how it is and idk why I still don’t know how to go all the way….im still figuring that out guys 😢 anyways this is the part 2 yall asked for.. and when yall ask, i have to deliver😝 HOPE YALL LIKE IT!!

Pt1

Rafe sets you down gently on the edge of the bed, his hands gripping your waist as he kneels slightly, bringing his face level with yours. His lips quirk into a soft, almost teasing smile as his eyes sweep over you, taking in every detail.

"You're so beautiful…" he murmurs, his voice quiet but full of intent.

Before you can respond, his hands are firm on your waist, guiding you backward. The bed dips slightly beneath you as your back meets the soft mattress, and Rafe moves with you, following your body down. He settles between your legs, his weight pressing into you just enough to make your breath catch.

His lips claim yours in another deep kiss, his hands holding your waist firmly, as though he's anchoring himself to you. The kiss is slow, intoxicating, and leaves you gasping when he pulls back, his mouth now trailing to your jaw and down your neck.

As his lips press soft, yet hot and wet kisses to your neck, you can feel him, feel just how aroused he really is. The pressure is enough to send a wave of heat crashing through you, your hips shifting instinctively to meet his.

He groans softly, the sound low and rough in your ear, and you feel him move, his hips rolling slightly against yours. The friction is electrifying, and a quiet gasp escapes you, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders.

"Feel that?" he huffs, his voice deep and strained as he kisses just beneath your ear. "That's what you do to me, baby…"

The words send a shiver down your spine, and when his hips grind into yours again, a broken moan slips past your lips. His breath comes heavier now, warm against your skin as he keeps his lips on your neck, his movements slow and deliberate, almost teasing.

Rafe pulls back slightly, just enough to sit up on his knees between your legs, his hands sliding down to rest on your thighs. His chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes dark and glassy as they sweep over you like you're the only thing that exists in the world.

He looks intoxicated by the sight of you beneath him—it sends a thrill through you.

Slowly, his fingers move to the rest of the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, his gaze never leaving yours. The fabric parts to reveal his toned chest, his muscles flexing as he shrugs the shirt off completely, tossing it to the side.

You can't help yourself. Your hands reach out, trailing over the hard planes of his abs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. His breath hitches at your touch, his lips quirking into a small, crooked smile as he watches you, letting you explore him for a moment.

"Like what you see?" he teases, his voice low and gravelly.

You don't respond with words, just nod, your eyes filled with desire as your fingers move up and down his chest.

The way you're looking at him, so full of want, makes him groan softly before he leans down again.

Rafe's lips find your shoulder, his hands gently moving the strap of your slip dress aside as he kisses the newly exposed skin. His mouth trails slowly down your arm, his kisses featherlight, before he moves back to your collarbone, then lower, his lips skimming along your chest, Pushing your dress higher.

When his hands hook into the waistband of your panties, your breath catches. He presses another kiss to your stomach, his lips warm against your skin as he slowly slides the fabric down your legs. Every movement feels deliberate, every touch sending a spark through you.

His hands rest firmly on your thighs, holding you open as he lowers himself.

The heat of his breath against your most sensitive spot makes you gasp, your hips shifting instinctively toward his face.

"Please..” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your chest heaving as you look down at him.

Rafe glances up at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Whatever you say, baby.." he murmurs, his voice dripping with affection and hunger.

Then his mouth was on you, and the world melted away. The sensations were overwhelming, his tongue and lips working magic as his hands gripped your thighs, keeping you steady beneath him.

Rafe's tongue moved against your folds with practiced ease, each stroke sending a bolt of pleasure rippling through your body. His grip on your thighs is firm, keeping you open and steady beneath him, though it's hardly necessary— you've already surrendered completely to the feeling of him.

The room is quite safe for the sound of your breathy moans and the obscene, wet noises he's making as his mouth works relentlessly against you.

"God, you taste so good.." he groans, pulling back for just a second, his voice muffled and rough. His lips are glistening, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he looks up at you.

"So sweet. Like honey..."

The words hit you like a spark to dry kindling, and your hips buck against him, seeking more.

"Rafe…" you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him back toward where you need him. He doesn't resist, letting out a low hum of approval as he dives back in, his tongue sliding over your entrance in a way that makes your toes curl.

"Rafe—oh, my God…" you whimper, the words almost unintelligible as your head falls back against the pillows. Your entire body feels like it's on fire, like every nerve is alive and buzzing, the pleasure building higher and higher until it's almost unbearable.

He moans against you, the sound muffled and guttural, the vibrations of his mouth has you crying out, your hips jerking as you grind harder against his face.

His tongue flicks over you faster, more deliberately, and the pressure sends you careening toward the edge.

"Come on, baby…" he urges, his voice rough and coaxing as he presses a kiss against your inner thigh before returning to your core. "Let me have it. Let me feel it…"

His hands shift, one sliding up to rest on your stomach while the other presses down on your hip, grounding you as his mouth devours you. The combination of his touch, his words, and the relentless rhythm of his tongue is too much, and with a strangled moan, you fall apart beneath him.

Your whole body shakes as waves of pleasure crash over you, your cries echoing through the room. Rafe doesn't stop, his mouth working you through your climax, drawing every last bit of pleasure from you until you're trembling and gasping for air.

When he finally pulls back, his lips and chin glistening, he looks up at you with a smug, satisfied grin, his chest heaving.

your body was still humming with the aftershocks, but you manage to reach for him, pulling him up until he's hovering over you. His weight settles against you, grounding you as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he murmurs softly when he pulls back just enough to look down at you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You nod, your lips curving into a dazed smile, full of love and admiration. "Better than okay…."

He chuckles, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, his hands trailing softly over your sides as he whispers, "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

[gainercontent]

Room to Grow Part 3: The Tailor

The next evening, as they gathered around the table for dinner—one of Ryan’s famous chili nights—Elliot felt a new sense of resolve. The rich, savory smell of chili wafted through the apartment as Ryan stirred the pot on the stove, the steam rising in clouds. Mark was already sitting at the table, a grin plastered on his face as he filled his bowl, almost to the brim.

Elliot sat down, and as usual, the moment Ryan placed the giant pot in the center of the table, everyone reached for their bowls and began ladling generous portions.

He glanced over at Mark, who was already digging into his bowl, spooning another heaping portion of chili onto his plate. Ryan was doing the same, taking large spoonfuls, wiping the sides of the pot clean. Elliot hesitated for a moment, but the warmth in the room, the sense of belonging, reminded him of why he loved these moments.

Without overthinking it, Elliot grabbed his own bowl, scooped out a large portion, and poured some sour cream on top—just like Ryan and Mark did. He noticed both of them glance up, as if expecting him to hold back, but Elliot didn’t pause. He dug in with abandon, savoring the rich flavor and the comforting heat of the chili. The thick chunks of beef, the soft beans, and the spices made every bite satisfying in a way that felt indulgent and freeing. 

The first few bites were familiar, but as he went in for a second helping, he realized something—he wasn’t feeling full yet. The chili was delicious, and he wasn’t trying to be “good” or “healthy” or stop before he reached the uncomfortable fullness. No, tonight, he was matching them. Bite for bite.

“You’re really digging in tonight, huh?” Ryan said, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he refilled his own bowl. Mark nodded in approval from across the table, slurping another spoonful.

Elliot raised an eyebrow, giving them both a grin. “What? I’m just *enjoying* the meal.”

Mark leaned back in his chair, patting his stomach with a satisfied expression. “We like to see that. No shame, man. Just enjoy it.”

Ryan chuckled. “That’s the spirit. Sometimes you just gotta eat to eat, you know?”

Elliot’s smile stretched wider. “Yeah, I guess I’m catching on to that. I’m not just here to nibble anymore.”

And he wasn’t. He kept going, savoring each spoonful, not stopping until his bowl was empty, and then refilled again—just like Ryan and Mark. He didn’t even think about it. He just kept eating. 

By the time they finished, the three of them were all leaning back in their chairs, stuffed but content. Ryan and Mark were happy to keep snacking, popping open bags of chips and taking turns pulling out leftovers from the fridge. Elliot, surprisingly, felt no guilt, no regret, no discomfort. For once, he didn’t feel like the odd one out. He didn’t feel like he had to worry about whether he was overeating, whether he was “doing it right.”

It wasn’t just about food, either. It was about the camaraderie—the way they shared everything without judgment, how they effortlessly encouraged each other to enjoy the moment. It was about living, fully and freely. 

“You’ve got the right idea, man,” Mark said, noticing Elliot’s second bowl was empty too. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Elliot nodded, leaning back, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “Yeah, it actually does.”

Ryan looked at him with a grin. “You’re officially one of us now. No turning back.”

Elliot could feel a lightness in his chest, like something that had been weighing on him for a long time had been lifted. He wasn’t thinking about what Tom would say or how he used to look. He wasn’t thinking about the scale, or whether he was eating “right” or “wrong.” He was just... *living.* And right now, that meant eating this delicious chili and enjoying every bite.

Later that evening, after they’d all moved to the living room, snacks scattered on the coffee table, Elliot found himself thinking about the future. He had let Tom’s comments get under his skin, but now he was resolving not to let them define him. He had his own path, his own rhythm, and it didn’t have to match anyone else’s. He didn’t have to prove anything to anyone—least of all to someone who didn’t understand where he was in life. 

His capacity had expanded—not just for food, but for embracing who he was, who he had become, and where he was heading. If that meant matching Ryan and Mark bite for bite, then so be it. But it was more than that. It was about embracing the freedom that came with not worrying, with living fully in the moment, without shame.

As the night wore on, Elliot settled into the couch, a satisfied, content smile on his face, feeling lighter and freer than he had in a long time. He was finally *full*—in all the best ways.

Elliot had never really liked shopping for clothes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to look good; it was just that finding the right fit had always been a struggle. Back in the day, it was easy—he’d simply stick to the skinny fit jeans, slim shirts, and avoid anything too tight around his midsection. But lately, even those had been getting a little snug. And now, with his   Tom’s wedding coming up, he had no choice but to bite the bullet and get a suit that fit properly.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Elliot was at the mall, trying to prepare himself for the inevitable. He’d already picked out a dark, sharp suit from the men’s department, but when it came time for alterations, he was directed to a small tailor shop in the back corner. 

The tailor was a polished looking man, maybe in his 40s, with salt-and-pepper hair and a meticulously pressed shirt. His hands were steady as he measured the inseams and shoulders of the various customers before Elliot. He had an air of quiet confidence, the kind of person who’d been around long enough to know what looked good and how to make something fit perfectly.

“Next!” the tailor called, looking over the top of his glasses as Elliot approached.

Elliot walked up, a little self-conscious as he stood in front of the man. He had chosen a tight-fitting dress shirt and slim chinos—clothes he used to wear without a second thought—but today, they felt a bit *too* tight, especially across his stomach.

“Alright, let’s get started,” the tailor said, measuring across Elliot’s shoulders with practiced ease. “You know, it’s not every day I get a young man in here with such a... well, let’s say, *muscular* build.”

Elliot was startled by the compliment, though the word "muscular" felt like it belonged to someone else. He wasn’t exactly a bodybuilder; he’d just been eating more and exercising less lately. Still, he appreciated the attention.

The tailor moved to take his waist measurement, and Elliot instinctively sucked in his stomach, trying to pull off the old habit. He knew that the tailor could likely tell the truth, but still, his natural reflex was to try to appear smaller.

But then the tailor, eyes narrowing slightly as he adjusted the tape measure, raised an eyebrow. “Hmm... The sizes you put down won’t work. Just curious—have you gained a bit of weight recently?”

Elliot froze. It was a blunt question, but not an unfriendly one. It was the kind of direct comment his friends might make, not a stranger who had only just met him. He immediately felt a flush creeping up his neck. 

"Uh... yeah," Elliot admitted, trying to laugh it off. "I’ve just... been enjoying life a little more recently."

The tailor smiled knowingly, giving a soft chuckle. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. A lot of people go through that phase. You should definitely take your time with the suit alterations. We’ll adjust it to fit you as best we can.”

Elliot felt his cheeks burn hotter, his stomach twisting with a mix of self-consciousness and frustration. He wasn’t embarrassed *about* gaining weight—he was fine with it, really. But being called out so bluntly about it made him feel exposed, like he wasn’t controlling things as well as he thought he was.

The tailor continued to work, unphased, as he made a few notes in his book. But after a moment of silence, he added, “If you’re looking to get back in shape or even just trim down a little, we have a gym here in the mall. It’s not much, but it’s convenient, and they offer classes, you know, just in case you want to tone up a bit.”

Elliot’s stomach churned again. He wasn’t sure if he felt more embarrassed or frustrated by the suggestion. “I, uh, yeah... I’ve been meaning to get back into it,” he said, awkwardly shifting on his feet. 

The tailor looked up from his notes, giving Elliot a knowing look. “You could also check out the GNC right next door. They’ve got some good stuff there—proteins, supplements, all that. Might help, if that’s what you’re going for.”

Elliot didn’t know what to say. The guy was nice enough, but the directness of his advice was almost too much. It reminded him of Tom’s comments earlier—about getting "back in shape." He was trying to let go of all that pressure, but here was someone offering him the very same advice, pushing him back into that mindset. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Elliot said, trying to sound nonchalant as the tailor took one last measurement around his chest.

The tailor smiled warmly, seemingly oblivious to Elliot’s inner discomfort. “Great. Now, you should check out some of the stores around here as well. If you’re looking for something more fitted, H&M has some great options. Or if you want something more casual, you could try Uniqlo. They’ve got good, stretchy fabrics. Whatever you’re looking for—no need to worry about those tight clothes you’ve got on now.”

Elliot wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cringe. Was it really that obvious? He felt exposed, like he’d been caught in the act. 

Before Elliot could respond, the tailor handed him a small slip of paper with a smile. “Here you go. It’s a coupon for a ‘Buy One, Get One Free’ promotion at the food court. For customers at the mall. I figured you could use it after the gym, or maybe for a nice treat.”

Elliot blinked, staring at the coupon. The irony was almost too much—here he was, talking about getting back in shape, and the tailor was practically handing him a free pass to eat more food at the food court. 

"Thanks... I guess," Elliot said, feeling a little awkward. “That’s kind of you.”

The tailor nodded, packing up his measuring tape. “No problem at all. They’ve been trying to get us to give these out to all of our customers.”

Elliot smiled weakly. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d just been offered a lifeline—one that both encouraged him to change and simultaneously told him it was okay to indulge.

As Elliot walked out of the tailor shop, the mall’s vibrant lights flickering around him, he pocketed the coupon. Maybe he would get the gym membership and check out the GNC. Maybe he would buy some clothes to replace the tight clothes he was becoming increasingly self-conscious of. But for the first time in a while, Elliot realized something important: the only person who could truly decide how he lived was him.

Tom’s words, the tailor’s advice—it was all just noise. He didn’t have to follow anyone else’s script. He didn’t have to rush back to the gym or avoid his favorite foods if he didn’t want to. 

Elliot looked down at the coupon in his hand, the food court so tempting, the promise of "Buy One, Get One Free" hovering in the air. For a moment, he thought about just throwing it away. But then he chuckled to himself, thinking about how much Ryan and Mark would laugh if they knew about it.

Maybe a treat wouldn’t hurt after all. Maybe tonight, he’d enjoy that freedom.

Elliot wandered through the bustling food court, the mall's fluorescent lights flickering overhead as the sounds of people chattering and the clattering of trays filled the air. His mind was still swirling from the earlier interaction with the tailor. On one hand, he felt weirdly validated—the coupon for the food court felt like an endorsement for indulging, a free pass for something he’d been doing more and more lately. On the other hand, there was still that nagging feeling, the one that came from all the recent comments about his weight.

His stomach growled in anticipation, and before he could second-guess himself, he headed to one of the Chinese food stands. The smells of sauce, fried rice, and sesame chicken made his mouth water. There was no turning back now.

The vendor behind the counter smiled warmly at him as Elliot stepped up. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Elliot said, glancing at the menu. "I'll take two orders of sesame chicken with extra rice, please. And can I get an extra side of egg rolls too?" He wasn’t even thinking anymore—he was just hungry, and the idea of a little extra indulgence seemed too good to pass up.

The vendor raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, just nodded and quickly packed up his order. A few minutes later, she handed him two large containers, and he grabbed a pair of chopsticks and a soda. With his coupon in hand, he made his way to a small table in the corner of the food court.

Sitting down, he set the two containers in front of him, the rich aroma of the food filling his senses. He dug in immediately, barely even pausing to breathe. Each bite was like a little slice of heaven—salty, savory, crispy. The rice was fluffy, the chicken perfectly cooked, the egg rolls crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside.

The first container was gone in minutes, and by the time he finished the second one, he felt completely stuffed, but he didn’t care. It was so delicious. The food had a comforting, almost nostalgic quality to it, a reminder of lazy weekends when he didn’t think about calories or portion sizes. 

Elliot leaned back in his seat, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. His stomach felt uncomfortably full, and his shirt was starting to feel a little tighter across his chest and belly. He had to undo the top button of his chinos, just for a little relief. But even that wasn’t enough; he could feel the fabric digging into his sides.

He grabbed his soda, taking a long sip, hoping it would help settle things down. Just as he was about to slouch back and give in to that delicious sense of overindulgence, he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

“Well, well, look who it is.” 

Elliot turned, stomach already churning with embarrassment as he recognized Tom’s voice. Tom stood a few feet away, his arms crossed and an amused smile on his face. His eyes quickly scanned Elliot, lingering for a second on the two Chinese food containers, now empty on the table, before locking onto Elliot’s face.

Elliot opened his mouth to say something, but just then, a loud *burp* escaped him—a deep, unintentional sound that echoed through the food court like a small trumpet. 

Tom’s grin widened immediately, and Elliot’s face flushed bright red. He shot Tom an apologetic look, holding his hand over his mouth as if trying to force the embarrassment to stay inside. But it was too late.

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. *I’m just enjoying life* himself,” he said with a smirk, clearly relishing the opportunity to poke fun. “Two meals? You sure you’re not trying to prep for a food challenge or something? Man, you must’ve been starving.”

Elliot’s stomach tightened in a mix of discomfort and self-consciousness. “I—I wasn’t really thinking,” he stammered, feeling the heat of Tom’s gaze and trying to force a smile. “Just... you know, treating myself.”

Tom chuckled, shaking his head. “Treating yourself, huh? Sounds more like you’re treating *yourself* to a new pair of pants after this,” he joked, motioning to Elliot’s stomach, which was now noticeably bulging against the fabric of his shirt and unbuttoned chinos.

Elliot wanted to laugh it off, but the words stung. He wasn’t blind—he knew he’d eaten a lot more than he probably should have, and now his clothes felt like they were about to burst at the seams. But Tom’s comments felt like another layer of judgment on top of everything else. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Elliot muttered, feeling even more self-conscious as he adjusted his shirt, trying in vain to make it fit more comfortably. “I guess I’m just... a little out of practice.”

Tom leaned against the table, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Out of practice? Dude, you’ve been in the ‘treat yourself’ phase a little too long. You sure you’re not getting a little *too* comfortable? I mean, seriously, are you planning on *not* getting a gym membership soon?”

The way Tom said it was almost playful, but there was a sharp edge to it. Elliot could feel the pressure building again, just like he had earlier when Tom had made his comments about his weight. Was this what he had to look forward to now, every time he indulged? A reminder that he was letting himself go?

“I’m fine, Tom,” Elliot said, forcing a chuckle even though his insides were twisting. “I’m not worried about it.”

Tom gave him a slow, knowing smile. “You sure? Because you’re looking a little too stuffed in that shirt there, man. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been hitting the buffet a little too often.”

Elliot let out a small sigh. He didn’t want to argue with Tom—not in front of all these people, not when Tom was enjoying himself so much. Instead, he nodded and grabbed his drink, hoping it would help settle his stomach and the conversation.

“Look, Tom, I’m good. Really. Just enjoying the weekend,” Elliot said, trying to shift the focus. “But hey, good to see you.”

Tom shrugged, clearly not done poking fun. “Alright, alright. Just don’t blame me when you’re out of breath after walking to your car.” With a wink, he turned and started to walk away, but not before calling back over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at the gym sometime, yeah?”

Elliot barely managed a wave, feeling the weight of Tom’s words hanging over him like a cloud. As Tom disappeared into the crowd, Elliot let out a long, heavy breath. 

He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want Tom’s mocking to ruin his day. But there was a gnawing sense of discomfort now, both physical and emotional. His clothes felt too tight, his stomach was pushing against his waistband, and Tom’s words kept replaying in his mind, making him question everything about the way he’d been living lately.

After his awkward encounter with Tom in the food court, Elliot wandered back through the mall, the weight of the conversation still hanging over him. His stomach was still painfully full from the two Chinese meals, and the tightness of his shirt made every step a reminder that he’d overdone it. But what really bothered him was the internal nagging: *What was Tom’s point? Was this really such a big deal?* He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts aside.

It was time to tackle the next thing on his list: clothes. He’d promised himself he’d step up his wardrobe, now that he was going to be in his   Tom's wedding, and the tailor had given him a few suggestions. But honestly, the idea of trying on clothes after everything that had happened was making him feel even more self-conscious. 

He made his way to a few stores. There was a small part of him that thought maybe he could find something nice, something that fit, something that made him feel confident again. 

He walked into H&M first, picking up a few shirts and pairs of pants in sizes he’d normally shy away from. He had been sticking to small or medium shirts before, but the way his body had been changing, he figured it was time to try a large. For pants, he grabbed a 34 waist, the next size up from his usual 32s, knowing that things had gotten a little snug.

As he moved toward the dressing room, his stomach churned again—a reminder of how bloated he felt from the food court disaster. He was hoping that maybe his body would settle down a bit after a few minutes. But as he slipped into the first shirt—a deep navy button-up—he immediately realized his error.

The fabric stretched tight across his chest, showing off the small but visible bulge he’d been trying to ignore. His stomach, still swollen from the massive meal, pushed against the shirt, and he struggled to button it all the way up. Even though the shirt technically fit in terms of size, it didn’t look right. It clung awkwardly to his torso, like it was straining to keep up with the changes in his body.

He pulled it off, frustrated, and grabbed the next shirt. It was a large, casual tee in a soft gray, something he thought would be more forgiving. But as he slipped it on, he was greeted with the same tightness around the middle. The shirt hung loosely on his shoulders but clung around his stomach, where his bloated belly was still resisting the confines of his clothing.

*This isn’t working,* Elliot thought, his face growing warm again. He tugged at the hem of the shirt, wishing it would fall a little looser, but it just didn’t feel right. It was almost as if everything he tried on was fighting against him, accentuating his discomfort rather than making him feel comfortable or confident.

With a sigh, Elliot moved on to the pants. He grabbed a pair of 34s, thinking they’d fit more comfortably, but when he pulled them up, they were still too tight across his thighs and waist. He couldn’t even button them without sucking in. The waistband dug into his stomach, making it feel like he had nowhere to breathe. 

The worst part was that even though they were the “right” size, they just didn’t look how he wanted them to. His thighs felt squeezed, and the extra fabric at the waist gaped awkwardly. The fit was all wrong, no matter what he tried.

By now, Elliot’s frustration had boiled over. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at himself in the mirror. This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel. He wasn’t supposed to *feel* this out of control. He was supposed to find something that worked, that fit, something that made him feel good about himself again. But all he felt now was bloated and self-conscious, like he didn’t know who he was or what his body was doing.

He stared at the clothes in his arms—shirts too tight, pants too uncomfortable—and then, with a long sigh, he walked out of the fitting room and headed for the store exit. The idea of spending any more time trying on clothes, of facing more of these frustrating realities, was just too much. 

Instead, he made his way to a nearby sportswear store, hoping to at least find something he could slip into and feel comfortable in, if only for a little while. 

As he walked through the store, his eyes landed on a rack of gym shorts and oversized hoodies. The oversized, loose fit of the clothing immediately appealed to him. He grabbed a pair of black gym shorts in a large size—plenty of room for his legs, no tight waistbands digging in. Then, he grabbed a charcoal hoodie in an extra-large. It was soft, plush, and something that looked like it would fit perfectly without hugging his bloated stomach. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone today; he just wanted comfort.

He grabbed the items and headed to the counter, quickly paying for them without even glancing at the prices. He just wanted to get out of the mall and into something that wouldn’t pinch or pull at his skin. 

When he finally changed into the gym shorts and hoodie in the mall’s bathroom, he felt a small sense of relief. The fabric hung loose and soft on his body, covering him in a way that didn’t make him feel judged or self-conscious. It wasn’t exactly stylish, but in that moment, it was exactly what he needed. He looked in the mirror—there was still a little discomfort in his stomach, but at least the clothes didn’t make it worse. 

Elliot took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past few hours begin to lift. Maybe this was his reality for now—clothes that fit a little awkwardly, his body doing things he hadn’t expected, moments of discomfort. But he was learning to accept it. 

As he walked out of the bathroom and into the mall, wearing the loose-fitting gym shorts and hoodie, he felt lighter—like he could take on whatever came next, without worrying about his weight. And for now, that meant gym shorts and an oversized hoodie. And that was perfectly fine.

*****New Chapter will be posted every Thursday*****

[leiakenobi]

norstappen + wings or animal parts (catboys👀)

catboys brand new thing for me let's go (from this prompt list)

The first thing Lando registers is fingers gently raking through his curls and then trailing, even more carefully, over his ears. Thumb and forefinger tracing smooth up to the very point of one ear, and then down through his hair and across his head to tenderly stroke the other.

It's heavenly—so good that Lando squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter, nestles closer to the hand as he feels a purr building heavy in his chest. He thinks he could fall back to sleep for hours like this, with gentle pets and the rich, comforting smell of Max deep in his nose, around and all over him.

Only. Only Lando's senses begin to really kick in then. He feels the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath him. It echoes with a thunderous purr and is covered in a spectacularly soft t-shirt that absolutely smells like Max Verstappen.

Probably because Max Verstappen is wearing it.

Lando's eyes burst open as he springs up and back onto his knees.

"Good morning," Max says. His features are still a little bogged down with sleep, but he's smiling easily. Evidently he feels more calm and collected than Lando does right about now. (But when doesn't he?)

In fact, the calmest, most collected thing Lando can manage is a weak, "Uh."

Max's ears twist forward a little in amusement. Given the circumstances, it helps Lando not to take it personally when he says, "I think most people would say something like, 'good morning to you too.'"

Lando laughs weakly. "Good morning to you too."

He looks around the room and tries to find his bearings, mostly because the alternative would be looking at Max. It's not that he doesn't remember coming here—they'd had quite a bit to drink at Jimmy'z before stumbling into a car, and then stumbling into Max's apartment-- bedroom-- bed. They'd had a lot of fun. Funny how the things they'd only ever gotten up to in cramped toilets and aboard Air Max were suddenly so much less strenuous when they were able to spread out and take their time.

And then when it was over, Lando had sworn up and down that he ought to head home. Except he was worn out, obviously, and Max was warm and comfortable and stroking absent-mindedly at his tail in this way that Lando always likes (with people he likes) and so he'd made a fatal mistake:

Just gonna rest my eyes a few minutes.

Now the sun is stretching out across the bed and Max is looking at Lando like he's a bit of an idiot, which he does a lot. But he's also looking quite fond about it, which he does a lot, too.

It's all very confusing.

"I just feel bad," Lando explains lamely. "Meant to get out of your way."

"Didn't I tell you you could stay?"

Well, yeah, but that was just like. a nice gesture, Lando knows those when he hears them. Some tender part of him on the inside wilts at the very thought, and then he winces as he feels his ears wilt a little, too. His tail flickers weakly behind him, but maybe Max can't see that. Maybe he can keep from being too obscenely obvious. "I mean, yeah."

"Well I wouldn't have said that if you'd be in my way." Max stretches his limbs out with a soft groan, making his shirt ride up just enough to expose his belly. Lando barely looks – honest – but when he meets Max's gaze again, he's confronted with a deeper sort of amusement in his eyes. "I kept trying to tell you my meeting isn't 'til this afternoon anyway. I've got loads of time."

"Okay."

"And even if I had to leave early, you could stick around, okay?" Lando suddenly registers a gentle thump of Max's tail against the mattress as his expression grows playful. "If it makes you smell more like me, I'd never complain."

Lando wrinkles his nose. "Maybe I'd just roll around on all your furniture and make it smell like me."

As though to make his point, Lando flops backward and burrows into the covers at Max's feet. At first blush, at least, it's not working; he can practically feel Max's scent nestling into him deeper and deeper.

But Max giggles and springs up after Lando, slotting comfortably on top of him. "Why not both?"

"Yeah," Lando breathes, already a little thoughtless as Max ducks down to kiss him because Max is promptly petting him again, which is unfair play. There's not even any sort of expectation or immediate wanting in it—it's just soft, and a little tender, and when Max pulls away Lando misses it at once.

"Now would you stop being weird?" Max asks. "I'll make us some breakfast and then maybe I can blow you again."

Lando nearly chokes on his tongue. "Yeah, alright."

[zzalina]

One day more or Sale el sol? Los Mis 2010

Okay so yesterday I made a post about Los Miserables 2010 and discovered there's more people who love it??? Someone asked me about the spanish translation of les mis and it was the straw that broke the camel's back for me to finally make a post. You have NO IDEA how long I've wanted to talk about this. Anyway, today I'll be talking about the 2010 spanish translation BUT I already have in my drafts a post comparing the spanish 1992, spanish 2010 and the original english versions. Without furhter ado, here are my thoughts about Sale el sol:

First things first: the title. "Sale el sol" means "The sun rises". I didn't use to like the translation because they could have gone with "Un día más" (as they did in 1992). It means exactly "one day more" and fits the music almost perfectly (you just have to pronounce it a little bit weird but nothing that isn't a common thing to do in songs). But then I saw this tweet:

"The phrase the sun rises instead of one day more to speak about resilience in a country in which the sun was used by fascists makes one feel mental peace, feel justice, feel art and revolution, it feels like recovering the light and coming out of the shadows"

A little bit of context: Spain was in a fascist dictatorship until 1975. There is a famous song from that time called "Cara al sol" ("Facing the sun"). It was the anthem of the Falange, a political party, but it's still used today by fascist groups. In this context, claiming the sun for a message like the one this song sends is really poetic justice and I just love it.

They also use the idea of the sun rising in "La canción del pueblo/Do you hear the people sing?" (I'll make a post about that one too) so it really links the two songs together in a very beautiful way. I could speak about the title for hours, but let's go to the lyrics:

On the left you have the original english lyrics, then the 2010 spanish ones and then the translation to english so you can see the differences. Pretty similar tbh

Marius being so dramatic in every langauge

Éponine's verses are always so sad but there is something about her feeling like she doesn't even exist for Marius that breaks my heart even more 💔

There's a lot I could say about Enjolras' part related to the 1992 translation but that will be a different post. Now take a moment to appreciate how Daniel Diges sings this lines pls look it up I love him

As you can see, in the translation we sadly lose the repetition of "one day more" 😔 Also Javert saying that the revolution will be born dead conveys to me the certainty that he had that it was not going to work. The army won't have to do much because the revolution will die by itself (and he was right, the people didn't join 😔)

Honestly I don't fully understand the Thenardier's part in english so I can't properly compare it, but they're so caothic in both languages, this part is so funny.

My favourite part of the song 😭 In english "Do you hear the people sing?" is the title of another song but since that one is called "La canción del pueblo" ("The people's song") they couldn't keep the verse exactly the same. But it's the first verse of The people's song

Just Javert's part bcs it's different, the others are kept the same than previously if I'm not wrong. Once again, there's no repetition in spanish 😔

I find it funny that since the original one talks about dawn at the end they translated it to "un día mas", doing the opposite of what they did with the title. It made me wonder for years why didn't they use it for the whole song since it fits the music. But now I know and you know too.

If you made it this far thank you for reading the post. If you liked it, there'll be more and if you didn't like it I'm sorry but there'll be more because I have a lot to say ✨

[kbookblurbs]

Wind and Truth - Brandon Sanderson (Stormlight Archive #5)

4/5 - midseason-finale ass book; he needs to scrap this editor; this book simply never ends

MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW!! LIKE FIRST LINE!!!

We finally come to the end of the first arc of the Stormlight Archives and they are going to need a new name. Before we dive in, I want to clarify that I did enjoy this book! I think it tackled a series of very hard-to-conclude plotlines in a relatively good way, and I think it sets Sanderson up for success in the latter half of this series. With that said, I'll be splitting this review into four parts:

Kaladin, Szeth, & therapy speak

The Spiritual Realm plot

Azir

Book mechanics

Kaladin, Szeth, & Therapy Speak

Now first of all, anyone who's read anything I've written knows I love Kaladin - he's one of my favorite characters of all time and his journey through depression is one of my favorite parts of this series. That said. I find the whole timeline of this healing to be highly suspect, and his attempts at therapizing embarrassing at best and deeply annoying at worst. What context is there for him to go from literally attempting suicide in the last book to semi-competent therapist in no time at all? Need I remind Sanderson myself that there is no time skip between the end of RoW and WaT?

The language is also just bafflingly modern in a way that nothing in this series has been before, but we'll get to more on that later.

The flip side of this criticism is that Szeth's plotline was easily my favorite of the book. His completed arc might rise to rivaling Kaladin's (thus far) in terms of how much I enjoyed it. His backstory is so tragic (slay for the almost successful military coup though?) and I truly believed he wasn't going to make it through the book until the very last page. His moments with his father, in the past and present, brought me to tears more than once.

The Spiritual Realm Plot

This whole plotline took too long and frankly, it was boring. Watching Shallan slay her demons for the umpteenth time and deal with Formless again and kill her mother again was, and this may be controversial, not a very interesting plot point to me. She's done all this before. I feel that this book, as a whole, gave diminishing returns on her pagetime to character development ratio. I also don't feel that Shallan, with all her everything else, needed a Herald as a mother as another twist, but maybe that will be more relevant in the future. For that reason, and that reason only, I'll bite my tongue on criticizing it unnecessarily

While it was nice to see Renarin and Rlain get together, I have to admit that Renarin's POV didn't add much for me. I think Sanderson could have written the entire plotline for these two from Rlain's perspective and it would've been far more interesting since he is, in my opinion, the more interesting character between the two of them. Renarin's POV does not reveal anything that isn't already clear from other POVs.

I also just wanted more of Ba-Ado-Mishram. She was haunting the story but not present. I understand that's likely for later plot reasons, but it did make this section drag. Dalinar contributed to that but  we don't have time to get into that right now. I was happy he died though (long overdue, in my opinion).

Azir

Adolin #1 character of all time? The only one to save their assigned city and did it with 0 Radiants and the power of friendships? Nobody is doing it like him.

I loved the founding of the Unoathed and, particularly, Yanagawn's development. I'm really hoping that Yanagawn becomes a more important character in next major arc, since he was so sweet here.

I did not love that we spent probably 25% of the book in Azir fighting battles. Contrary to the opinion of Sanderson many fantasy authors, there is an upper limit on how many battles you can include before I get tired of reading them. There's only so many ways you can swing a sword or block a pike etc etc before I'm bored.

Book Mechanics

Overall, I find this concluding book to be much weaker than the other 4 in the series. Whereas it had seemed that the pacing was improving in Oathbreaker and Rhythm of War, here we were back to all over the place. While I liked that he split the plot into each day leading up to the contest, the timeline genuinely made no sense.

Beyond that, this entire book was filled with oddly YA-style prose that has never appeared in the Stormlight Archive until now. I think whoever edited this book must be different from the other four because, in my opinion, it was much too modern, not as tight, and frankly, not as good. And I know this might be controversial, but I did not think Maya calling Adolin a slut was funny. Why would she even use that word? Whore or prostitute would've been acceptable because they've been referenced here before but I found that example and others like it to be jarring.

Conclusion

I liked this book, but it's by a longshot my least favorite in the series. It was too long and frankly, some of the characters didn't even sound like themselves. I know that Sanderson can do better than this, but it leaves me a little wary for the next arc.

There's lots here I didn't cover (Jasnah my beloved, Sigzil! I'm in mourning) but this was already quite long. DMs / ask box are always open if you'd like to chat more.

[utilitycaster]

I can’t help but feel that the people who are complaining about the people criticizing this campaign are the types that are going to be pissed if BH does just kill Predathos and lets the gods live, especially if that comes at the cost of some supposed deserved happy ending for their faves. And what’s maybe ironic is that I feel that an ending in which BH choses to save the gods, the campaign does rise a bit in my esteem, and might in the eyes of some other critics as well, as it would, i dunno, maybe play into these themes of forgiveness and love and overcoming resentment that keep being used as a defense of this campaign and these characters? 

Anyway, godspeed on the quest to find good faith arguments on why this campaign is excellent. would genuinely like to see one.

Oh definitely. Like...look. I hope I conveyed the point of "I don't particularly think either of us are approaching this with a deep respect for the other, but we can at least make a polite fiction of good faith that, if you actually can come up with an argument that assumes that, I will accept in genuine good faith" and so in that interest I'm trying to scale back on attacking people. But also...I've been down this road before. When people complained about how bad Campaign 2 was, firstly, it specifically took hold either right after a ship competing with theirs became canon or at least was strongly hinted towards; or was in response to Molly not coming back; and secondly a lot of this happened after they'd been effusive in their praise for the campaign up until that point. Whereas for Campaign 3 you can, if you actually wished to do the research, go to my blog or most of my mutuals' blogs and do an archive dig and trace the optimism and excitement turning into skepticism turning into "yeah, this ain't it chief" with fairly consistent complaints (poor pacing, plot-character mismatches, indecision, failure of the characters to ever really challenge each other meaningfully in a way that leads to growth) throughout, coupled with, if I am being honest, a massive deal of grace and patience and "maybe this is the course correction" that was not always earned. Dorym becoming canon did not shift this among the many people who like Dorym and also think the campaign isn't very good, myself included, so I don't really think it's shipping wank that's the problem. I'm not inclined to respect arguments that either, 118 episodes into a campaign that's very close to its end, demand I consider its ~potential~. I have. It has, for the most part, failed to deliver over the course of those 118 episodes.

If a common complaint within the fandom of people who have watched hundreds of hours of this story is "it's unclear what story it is telling and the party is aimless" and small pockets and echo chambers are like NO YOU DON'T GET IT...I don't want to say its impossible for this to happen and that the majority is automatically correct, but were I an outside observer I know where I'd place money in a bet.

And yes, I agree. I think a lot of of the people defending it are either, to be very blunt, in a sunk cost fallacy situation/dedicated to a certain level of contrarianism more so than having their own opinions that exist independent of the fandom; or believe it will give them a happy ending for their faves or validate their belief the gods should die or they just want Exandria to burn at this point for whatever reason. I don't feel it's actually something that follows from the narrative, which, as this post so aptly puts, is just kind of sailing towards the rocks while the crew sort of bickers and doesn't do anything. It feels like the most satisfying endings possible are either achieving what the gods couldn't and destroying this existential threat for once and for all (in which case the gods survive, and hey, they actually did take a third option that no one was really talking about, the indecision was still boring as fuck but at least there's a scrap of payoff), or tragedy befalling them (loss of party members, killing a large swath of Exandria) as a consequence. And neither of those are what they want, which is like. the abstract concept of change and the less abstract and deeply unflattering concept of killing everyone who didn't give you what you wanted.

It is in fact unsurprising that the arguments in the fandom are the way they are. Wow I wonder why people who think "I asked this person for something and they didn't answer so I think letting loose an endless hunger entity to eat them" is a good and noble thing to do can't handle the idea that existing in the world means you and things you like will receive criticism, and other people won't just do what you want if you whine loudly enough.

[kick-a-long]

It might be just because I have a zero tolerance policy for antisemitic bullshit and block users on sight who engage in really clear forms of hateful bigotry, but I have started to see less antisemitism online/in media and more in the real world. really obvious hateful bullshit in the real world, not like a friend saying something ignorant, random antisemites really yelling slurs and words on walls and being followed, things like that.

at the same time I have seen a rise in very tenuous anti islam opinions online and in the media, not just from far right sources but from centrists pissed at leftists and trump winning. one problem is that a lot of the rhetoric is based on verses from the Quran and laws from all muslim governments, which is hard to refute because the Quran has a ton of stuff that I can't get behind and many many of the laws in muslim countries are disgusting to me. I think it's fair to critique religions and laws but as a jew i know how fast that kind of thing spirals when the critiqued isn't part of the predominant culture.

the problem is that I don't know how to advocate or word support for moderate muslims and jews who are being hated for racist reasons and at the same time tell people how dangerous, murderous and inhuman even, islamism and arab nationalism without hitting moderate muslims (who want reform in their communities or countries) in the crossfire. moderates in my definition: are muslims but like or love their democracy, the countries they live in (even living in more tolerant all muslim countries) but want commonsense changes, who don't take the Quran quite so literally, and don't want to live under a muslim theocracy or force muslim law on others.

I also don't know how to tell people that the right wing, the only people decrying radical islam terror and pointing out the parts of liberal culture that are bending over backwards to ignore and in some cases support terrorism, antisemitism and racial bigotry, are only saying it as a way to attack the liberals by lumping leftist, islamists, terrorists, communists, and democrats together so they can bolster the right wing. They are not protect jews, not protect democracy, just creating a stepping stone to more conservative christian laws and eventually authoritarianism.

In a lot of ways I'm faced with the same problem that people who are actually trying to advocate for Palestinians are. I don't want to foster hate against all muslims, just the radical ones who drive cars into crowds and rape and murder people at peace festivals, but I have to point out how much damage is being done by the second group. how do i minimize friendly fire to the first? In my opinion isreal is 100% in the right and has used unimaginable restraint, but if someone 100% supports Palestine they should have faced this problem (obviously this person is hypothetical since no pro Palestinian since oct 7th gave two shits about how much jew hate they were trafficking in.)

I don't want to foster a culture that subjects muslims to the same bs racist loyalty tests so many jews have lost friends over: "are you a zionist? i hate zionists! you kill and eat babies!" because they don't understand what zionism is or what is happening in the middle east and why.

how do you fight against let alone learn about islamists, terror supporters, arab nationalists, muslims that want to expand globally and impose muslim law globally, without turning around and doing the same thing to other groups that jews have been putting up with for at least two years since the world found out that Israel and a few months ago when they found out muslim antisemitism exists?

this all might sound like Mary Sue, "think of the poor defenseless future victims!" bullshit but it's an important question. I want the bigoted pendulum swinging from "everything is the jews fault!" to "muslims are all terrorists" stops swinging, not just that it swings away from "i hate jews." I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to head it off at the pass. I don't know how to advocate something practical or ideological that would be fair.

antisemitism is my primary concern. it's the most violent and it's the most open. it effects my safety and future daily. but how can jews help advocate for preventing the bullshit of tomorrow? it takes a smarter woman than me... and it fucking sucks. we should at least talk about it.