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charmed [5]: ‘cycle’ (remus lupin x reader)

SMUT. professor! remus x professor!y/n. can be read as a one-shot, or as part 5 of the charmed series :) pls go show part 4 some love, and the rest of the chapters if u liked this! <3

brief summary: full moon approaching= horny as fuck remus. he can’t keep his eyes/hands off y/n, and after a whole day of being needy between classes, they ... ;) dom!remus, oral fem!receiving, fingering, size kink, ye

nsfw gifs for inspo: x x

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

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Remus’ life was lived in cycles, various phases of the moon commandeering partially how he felt.

His sex drive was always pretty high; how could he not feel desire- when he had Y/N around him in his life. They had a great sex life, and Remus was definitely one to get ‘love boners’, where he would see Y/N do something not remotely suggestive but would get the desire to fuck out of sheer adoration..

When the full moon came close, however… it was on a whole other level. His body carried tension and almost an incurable itch on the days preceding his transformation. His senses flared like a wolf’s, like hearing, touch and vision. It was his sense of smell, however, that enhanced the most. For about 2-5 days leading to the full moon, his smell became much sharper. If Y/N had recently showered, her fresh scent would overwhelm his nostrils, or if she got sweaty too. The second she got aroused, Remus would be able to pick it up, and the urge to bury his face in between her legs would wash over him.

So, he 300% got way hornier during this period of time. Paired up with his senses on overdrive, all he could think about during those few days was sex with Y/N, the tiniest things she did would get him instantly hard. He’d be turned on all the time.

As the month of September came to a close, both Y/N could definitely sense her husband’s even-higher-than-normal yearning. Remus’ persona in public never revealed how much of a beast he could be in the bedroom, always calm, respectful, prudent. He treated Y/N with the upmost care, and once they got to Hogwarts, with the upmost professionalism. That quickly faltered in the last couple of days.

The second students were out of her last class, he had her pushed up against the wall, the door of the classroom safely locked. Y/N even had to cancel one Charms practice session, because Remus wasn’t able to keep his hands off her: pulling her close to him and rubbing her back while he buried his nose in the perfume of her hair. When they graded or read together in the evenings, he would bend her over the desk, then take her again in the shower that night. Every morning, Y/N would wake up in the best way possible, feeling Remus’ tight hold behind her and his already hard cock rutting up against the flesh of her butt.

This morning, however, the couple wasn’t able to squeeze in a nice wake-up shag. They had overslept, and Y/N who started at 9am while Remus at 10, had to to get to class. She hurried off, getting dressed and down for a quick breakfast, leaving Remus waking up alone, humping the sheets slightly.

His frustrations lasted all day, and definitely were not aided when he saw that Y/N was wearing his favourite pair of pants of hers at lunchtime. While the way they looked at each other always somewhat hinted at their romance, Remus’ gaze was especially obvious, like he was mentally undressing her everywhere they went.

He was presently in between classes, sitting at a table in the staff room and trailing his wand over the lines of a student’s essay he was reading. He lifted his head when he heard the door creak open, and Y/N walked in happily, carrying a stack of papers in her hands. His thread was almost thrown back as he caught a whiff of her, just pure her, mixed with a hint of… arousal? She was wet, Remus thought lewdly.

Spotting Remus, Y/N gave him a big smile, then turned towards a little desk that had some of her stuff on it. Remus gave her a cheeky wink before his eyes followed her, unabashedly fixed on how those pants fit her so nicely. Y/N bent down to store the papers into her bag, and Remus quickly had to look away, forcing his gaze on the window before he would get hard.

“Hi, my love.” He smiled gently as she approached him, turning his chair and pulling her onto his lap.

“Rem!” Y/N whispered, jerking her head towards Professor Sprout.

She was the only other teacher there, but to Remus’ greatest delight, she seemed to have snoozed off in her armchair.

“She’s asleep.” Remus whispered back, hands running everywhere on Y/N’s body as she settled herself comfortably in his lap. “Besides, I missed you.”

“Aw, pumpkin-“ Y/N giggled, accepting Remus’ kiss as he pressed his lips on hers. “I, missed, you, too” She murmured in between kisses.

Remus’ hands were getting antsy, as one went to go squeeze Y/N’s breasts and the other caressed over her butt, smoothing over the thin fabric of her dress pants. The kiss deepened as they both began breathing heavier.

“Don’t,” Y/N breathed in, breaking apart from Remus’ soft face. “Don’t you have class in like-“ She glanced at the clock. “5 minutes?!”

Remus peered over her head and groaned, shaking his tousled head. “And you do too darling, right?”

“Yeah, it’s my last one of the day.” Y/N frowned.

Remus’ gaze softened, nuzzling Y/N’s nose with the tip of his own, in a cute little Eskimo kiss- type action.

“I really love these pants, you know, I’m wondering if you wore these on purpose” He grinned, the hand on her butt petting the material softly.

“Maybe, I did….” Y/N smiled back, their faces centimeters away from each other’s.

Remus, ears full of Y/N’s voice, nose full of Y/N’s natural homey scent, didn’t register the door opening again and they both turned with a jolt, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat.

Y/N jumped out of Remus’ lap, Remus smoothing his hands that were all over her body, over his robes.

“Hi, Professor McGonagall- I was just- we were just getting ready for our next l-lesson.” Y/N stammered, face growing hot in embarrassment.

“Yes, class, here- I’ll walk you to your class, darling.” Remus said, bowing his head and following Y/N out of the staff room.

“Mhmm.” Professor McGonagall hummed, peering at the two through her thin rectangle glasses. She didn’t bother reminding them they could call her ‘Minerva’, but as they shuffled out the door, her thin lips curled up in amusement. “Oh, Pomona, I’m sure you are very lucky to be dead asleep right now.” She whispered, to the Herbology teacher whose eyes were sealed shut.

In the hallway, Y/N and Remus burst out laughing once they got a safe distance away.

“I am never going to emotionally recover from that.” Remus choked in between gasps for breath.

“Please, I’m never going to look her in the eye ever again.” Y/N howled, wiping a tear with her wrist. “I mean, at least we were just sitting… and not actually doing.. anything.”

They walked along a couple stairways, their body language having adjusted to the busy Castle.

“Thanks for walking me, you didn’t have to.” Y/N said, once they reached the Charms classroom. She stood back to the door, hands behind her on the doorknob.

Remus simply smiled courteously, eyes drifting down her. Then, quickly, he peered around them and into the classroom. Seeing it was empty, he reached behind Y/N, turned the doorknob and swirled her inside, pressing her up against the door.

“Oh, Rem-“ Y/N squeaked in surprise, but her voice faded into a soft moan as Remus kissed her, her arms going up to wrap around his neck.

“Sorry, my love, I just can’t get enough of you.” Remus chuckled when they finally pulled apart.

“Hmm.” Y/N licked her lips. Feeling Remus casing her in against the door like this, his big build towering over her, made her knees all weak. “Okay, you know the best part about these pants?” She inquired.

“Hmm? Tell me, sweetheart.” Remus mused, eyelids growing heavy as he stared into her face.

She rose on her tippy toes to meet the height of Remus’ ears, “The material is so thin-”

She spun around, facing the door and pressed her backside against Remus’ front, feeling him through his trousers.

Gasping as Remus’ large hands went up to squeeze both her breasts, further pushing her against the door as he pressed himself against her smaller body, she said, “-I have to wear a thong.”

Remus’ hands on her froze, his eyes growing dark. A low growl was ebbing up his throat but before he could respond, Y/N snaked out of his hold.

“Okay, bye honey- have a good class!” Y/N chirped, grinning widely as she opened the door to let a group of students in.

Remus composed himself in a fraction of a second, a hand raking through his hazel locks in attempt to comb them over.

“Hi, Professor Lupin!” Some students said, happy to see him, to which he answered with a polite and kind “Hello, hello!”, and “Hello, Dean!”.

Once Y/N’s class was over, she hurried up to her living quarters. After taking a hot shower, she climbed onto the bed, in nothing but a thong and one of Remus’ big sleeping shirts. She lied down comfortably, fingers toying with the collar as she waited for her husband. He had one other class after hers and should be finished soon.

Accurately enough, Remus’ figure appeared in the fireplace a few minutes later. His footsteps approached the bedroom and as he entered, his belt was already clinking as he was unfastening it with one hand.

“Oh, baby.” He hummed appreciatively as he took in the sight of Y/N, splayed across their bed, thighs balmy and exposed. “Is that my shirt?”

Y/N nodded, appreciating how Remus’ locks of hair had fallen on his forehead, as if he was constantly running his fingers through them- which he did, in attempt to concentrate when he was giving his last lessons of the day.

Gripping the hem, Y/N lifted the shirt off, exposing her naked chest. Remus made a guttural sound as he lunged forward, going to squeeze, lick and suck over her breasts. His hands wandered south, grazing the wet spot on the cotton stripe that covered Y/N’s mound.

“And whose pussy is this, hmm?” Remus snarled slightly, canines shining as his lips curled into an eager smirk.

Y/N licked her lips as she decided not to answer, her eyes had a glint to them when she stared back challengingly at her husband.

Remus raised an eyebrow, but kept an unfazed demeanour. He stepped back from the bed, taking a stand at the edge of it.

“Okay, baby girl, I see how you’re being. Turn around for me.”

Y/N looked up at him excitedly before slowly turning on the bed, onto her stomach.

Remus let out a small appreciative growl at the sight of Y/N’s ass covered only by a thin thong, right in front of him ready for him to ravage.

“Should’ve started with an easier question, kitten- who does this ass belong to?” Remus simpered.

He bent forward to squeeze both cheeks in his large hands, then went on to graze his teeth softly against the flesh of her ass. He could smell her arousal fully now, the scent of her wetness entering his nostrils and clouding his vision.

When Y/N merely arched her lower back to stick our her bum more prominently, wiggling it, Remus cursed. He roughly palmed the flesh before he lifted his hand and delivered a loud swat to it.

Y/N gripped the sheets in her hands as she yelped out of pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you, you wanted a good spanking from daddy, huh?” Remus hummed, rubbing over the spot soothingly.

“Yes.” Y/N breathed out shakily. “Please.”

Remus kneaded the flesh in his hands and reveled in the way it would bounce after he spanked it a few more times.

“Oh darling,” he cooed, bending down to leave a slow trail of kisses up Y/N’s back. “Your little bum looks so cute marked up in pink by my hands.”

The skin had pinked, and a considerable area too, considering how large Remus’ hands were.

“Remus, I’m- I’m so wet for you.” Y/N cried, lifting her lower body weight onto her knees so Remus could see her pussy in the air. Glistening and dripping in arousal.

The sight sent adrenaline down Remus’ groin, his cock now painfully hard and straining against his trousers. He could in a flash, shed his lower layers and pound into Y/N’s cunt as his urges wished him to, but he had to get a taste first.

“Really?” He said as he kneeled down on the side of the bed, now eye-level with Y/N’s core. He peeled back her thong, throwing it further on the bed.

“Yes, oh God, please.”

Remus peered over Y/N’s legs to see her face, scrunched up in anticipation. His hands trailed over the side of her thighs, sending visible shivers down her spine.

“Now, will you be a good girl and tell me… who this pretty ass and pussy belong to?” He said in a low purr, voice husky.

Y/N’s pussy clenched as she felt his face so close to where she needed him to be, his hands cementing themselves around her legs.

“Yours, Remmy, I’m all yours, now please-“ she begged, tears prickling at her eyes because of how much she ached for his touch.

Remus’ hands softly grazed down her back and pressed harshly once they got to the lower part where the curve of her ass began, and pulled her cunt straight into his face.

“Merlin, you smell so fucking sweet.” He swooned, inhaling deeply before quite literally diving into her cunt, his warm tongue stretching to lick against her clit.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, her head pressing harder into the pillow. “Fuck…” She choked out. Her hips gyrated against Remus’ face, but his firm hold locked her in place as he devoured her.

They both moaned, Remus’ tongue running up her slit a couple times to lap up all the slickness and fully taste it. He gave her clit a quick kiss before sucking on it, taking it in between his lips.

“Fuck, r-right there.” Y/N breathed out, finally feeling an ounce of her desire fulfilled.

Remus licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin and nose. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock plumping at the feeling of her hips and legs trembling.

It was like meditation, the wolf inside him finally somewhat being appeased. He lapped at her cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do, tongue running through the soft folds that were sopping and slick from the mix of her arousal and his spit.

“Oh, Rem, oh-“ Y/N moaned, face scrunched in pleasure. The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, she was getting closer and she pushed her hips back against Remus’ mouth. He groaned into her cunt, his hands squeezing her fleshy hips harder, desperately stuffing his face into her. He loved it.

He maintained his rhythm, focusing on suckling and flicking his tongue on her clit until she came with a cry, hips shaking out of his hold. He flattened his tongue to run it up her labia, and ended by planting a tender kiss on her sensitive clit before pulling away, slightly more sated than before.

“Delicious.” Remus panted, standing up and watching Y/N languidly turn over onto her back once again. He wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose clean with the back of his hand, Y/N watching with her face hot.

Y/N scooted to sit at the edge of the bed, ogling him. He towered over her as he stayed standing, looking down at her through heavy hungry eyelids, covered by his brown hair that was getting slightly messier.

“Wanna taste you.” Y/N smiled, reaching behind Remus’ kneecaps to bring him closer.

Remus chuckled darkly, his long arm needing to barely reach to stroke Y/N’s jaw.

“You look so cute from up here, dove, makes me want to play with you and see you cum, all over again.” He said, voice low.

Y/N bit her lip, not breaking eye contact with her husband.

“So gorgeous.” He groaned as Y/N took his thumb between her lips, suckling the pad of the finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking.. of what I want to do to you, how much I want to take that body of yours.”

“Then take me.” Y/N exhaled, mouth letting go of his thumb and smiling devilishly.

Remus’ eyes, if possible, turned darker in desire and he bent down, kissing Y/N passionately on the lips as his hands travelled down her naked torso.

“Hmm, you’re so small, kitten,” Remus hummed, eyes following his hand that went to cup in between her legs. “Look how small your little pussy is in my hand.”

His fingers curled to feel how wet it was, Y/N spreading her thighs apart for him to access easier. He used his middle and ring finger to lather up some of her slickness, then dragged them up to her clit and started soft circles on it. Y/N whimpered, legs closing from how sensitive her bud was from her previous orgasm.

“Now, now pet.” Remus tutted, pulling away.

He licked the tips of his fingers clean, then shrugged off his woolly cardigan, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. The full moon approaching always got his body temperature hotter than usual, so he skipped wearing a cloak today, and was left in his white dress shirt and tie. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off his hands as he did so. Long, mature fingers with metal rings adorning the base of each.

“Keep your legs nice and spread f’me, alright, as I stuff you with my fingers.”

Bending forward again, he leaned one arm on the bed beside Y/N as his other hand found her clit again. The thick pads of his fingers played with her clit, rubbing the spot as Y/N bit her lip, body firing up for another orgasm.

“So cute, button.” He mused, nuzzling the top of Y/N’s head. “Look at that, your clit feels so little under my fingers, don’t you think? And your cunt, ah-“

He dipped a finger inside her, sliding right in and quickly added another one. Slowly petting the soft spongy walls of Y/N’s pussy, Y/N mewled, rutting her hips for more.

“So tight, so full just of my fingers. Tell me darling, do you like my fingers?”

“Mhhm.” Y/N nodded as Remus sped up. “Love your fingers, your hands, they’re so b-big.” She choked out, head hanging back as he fingered her.

“You like that? You fucking love how I can get you off with just m’fingers, yeah? Lord, this pussy’s so tight how will my cock even fit hmm?” Remus crooned, watching Y/N adoringly as he was knuckles deep inside her, his rings feeling cold upon her entrance.

Y/N opened her eyes, meeting Remus’ soft, scar-decorated face and turned her head to kiss him. Remus suckled on her spit-slicked lips, maintaining his fingers and bent his hand for the bone of his palm to press against her clit. Y/N gasped into the kiss, lips gaped apart as she whimpered into Remus’ mouth. Remus smiled, loving how flustered she was as she struggled to kiss him back, soaking in all her little cries and noises she made.

His fingers inside her were going so fast, relentlessly hitting her g-spot over and over that his hard palm was grinding against her clit incessantly. Faster than the first time, she came, squeezing onto his forearm.

Fingers riding out her high, they slowed and pulled out, drenched in her wetness. Y/N collapsed onto her back, chest heaving.

“Oh, baby you are so beautiful.” Remus simpered, climbing on the bed and leaning over her to kiss her everywhere; her shoulders, neck, cheeks. “You think you got another one in you, bunny? Think you can let Moony bury his cock inside you?”

“Yes, give it to me please.” Y/N grinned widely, licking her lips and pulled Remus down by his tie, locking lips with him once more. “Need you inside me.”

“Oh, puppy. I am going to ruin you.” Remus said, this time in such a low murmur that had he not been an inch close to Y/N’s face, her ears wouldn’t have registered the tone.

Y/N sat up, helping her husband rid himself of his clothes. His bare chest exposed a few thin scars, which Y/N quickly smoothed her hands and lips over, routinely giving love to them, as she knew it was the part Remus couldn’t stand of his body.

Remus freed his hard-on, which was blushed an angry shade of dark pink. The bulbous head had been leaking of precum for a while now, and he exhaled a couple ragged breaths when he stroked himself, hand twisting around his tip. Y/N had leaned over to their bedside table to open a condom, and she replaced his hand with hers, pumping his long member before sliding it on. Remus already felt himself throb, and he knew that soon he’d be even more as Y/N’s pussy felt 100 times better than her hand.

“How do you want me?” Y/N breathed, backing up to the head of the bed as Remus went on his knees.

This was more of a rhetorical question, really, as it has been like this for years, that at every moon cycle end, their favourite was for Remus to take Y/N from behind. Y/N turned onto her elbows and knees, bending forward to prop her ass up.

“That’s it, good girl.” Remus licked his lips, lining himself up and pushed his cock slowly into Y/N’s warmth.

He let out a loud hiss, face contorted in pleasure as he sank fully into her, his long, hard member stretching Y/N out to the fullest, filling her to the brim. “Merlin.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes dropping to where he disappeared into Y/N’s behind. “You always manage to stay so tight for me, darling- fuck, your pussy’s just squeezing m’cock so right, isn’t it?”

Y/N merely moaned, head dropping forward as she balanced her upper weight on her elbows, overwhelmed by feeling every single vein of Remus’ cock sliding in and out of her slowly. She clenched hard around him, causing his hips to tremor as Remus’ senses, including touch, were amplified tenfold.

He ceased momentarily, his cock just resting heavy inside Y/N’s cunt, his head deep at her g-spot. Y/N mewled, arching her back and twerked her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock. Remus growled at the sight, spanked her once, then his hands dived to grab the curve of her waist as he snapped, hips pounding into her now mercilessly.

“Oh God, fuck!” Y/N cried out with her head thrown back, as her elbows gave out from underneath her and her face sank forward into a heap of pillows. Her ass still up in the air, flesh slightly pink from Remus’ spanks delivered to it- it was a wonder how he didn’t cum from the sight of that alone as he fucked her from behind.

Remus kept up his quick rhythm, hips thrusting into her ruthlessly. They were both close, and Remus fucked into Y/N without an ounce or self-restraint left. He grunted loudly as she fell forward and her inner walls clenching down onto his member. His cock slipped in and out of her deliciously, as she had gotten so wet for him, sinful sounds echoing the room.

He bent forward, chest pressing against her back, their skin sweaty.

“‘S that feel good, darling?” Remus said, lips ghosting over Y/N’s ear. She shuddered, his breath sending shivers up her neck as she felt him so close. His voice wasn’t his usual chesty, tenor honey-like. His words were uttered in a guttural one, his voice deeper, lower, sounding from the back of his throat. “You’re taking me so well- your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s ears registered the praise as music, living for it. He adjusted his hips slightly to accommodate the new angle, thrusting to make sure he was hitting all the spots in Y/N he knew she liked.

“Mphhhm, please baby,” Y/N moaned, voice slightly muffled into the pillow. She turned her head to the side to rest her cheek on it instead. “Please Remus, oh-“ her voice whimpered, a little more clearly now.

Remus’ large hands had been gripping onto the flesh of Y/N’s hips roughly, tightly. He moved one up to her breasts, grabbing it and massaging it. His breath was hot on her back. He was nearing his orgasm too, his breathing loud and shaggy. Heaving grunts echoed off the walls of the rooms, and Y/N arched her back to feel his chest rise up and down against it.

“Good girl, good fucking girl- taking my cock so well. Shit.”

Remus let out a growl as he felt his cock be swallowed up in her cunt, her ribbed walls enveloping it so nicely as he ploughed into her.

“You’re close aren’t you, dove?” He murmured into her neck with the same low voice, placing wet kisses onto it. Her hair was out of the way onto the other side, and he tasted the slight stickiness of how sweaty their night’s activities had gotten her.

“Yes, yes, ye-es” Y/N chanted in a strangled voice, her words getting split at her throat from Remus’ vigorous pounding.

“Can tell from how tightly you’re squeezing me- shit, not going to last long either inside you like this. C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”

It was all too much. Y/N shaked as she felt Remus pump into her a few more crucial times. He felt so thick in her walls, his girth filling her up like no other. Moaning, her hips grinded back into Remus as she started to cum. She felt his warm hand reach down her belly and down to between her thighs and with the added pressure from the circles he rubbed on her clit, she came with a shudder. Her body shook as her breath caught in her throat, a string of profanities leaving her lips. Y/N’s sounds of pleasure filled Remus’ ears, driving him further into ecstasy.

“Good girl.” Remus purred, hips jerking forward frantically.

“Remus, fill me up-“ Y/N moaned, knowing Remus loved hearing his name fall off her tongue like that. She propped herself back onto her elbow, reaching one hand behind her to hold the back of Remus’ neck.

Remus pressed the side of his face into Y/N’s neck, her hand keeping him close to her. He growled into her ear, the low sound vibrating from his throat enough to make Y/N’s eyes roll back. Driving his cock into her, desperately chasing his high, he rutted his cock into her walls. His entire body strained as all his muscles worked to relieve himself, needily fucking out his animalistic urges. He came with a gasp, his hips jerked harshly as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into the condom.

Panting, he hunched forward as his cock kept twitching.

His whole muscular body trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut in the pleasure of his long-needed release. His hand was grasped onto Y/N’s chest and she loved the feeling, tilting her hips forward to match the movements of Remus’ orgasm.

Wheezing slightly, Remus finally pulled out of her slowly, Y/N whimpering slightly as her pussy clenched around nothing. He threw the used condom and collapsed onto his back, chest still heaving. Y/N followed suit beside him, onto her stomach, body limp. The afterwaves of her orgasm still sent pleasure through her body and she knew she’d feel too sore to even straighten her legs.

“My love.” Remus turned on his side.

“I can’t fucking move.” Y/N chuckled, voice muffled by the pillow.

Remus hummed, eyes raking over her used body and sat up, massaging over her shoulders then down her back. His hands reached her hips, where he caressed extra soothingly and slowly closed them together. He bent forward, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. She giggled as his locks of hair tickled her eyelid.

Languidly turning over, Y/N sighed in content.

Remus reached his hand, and pulled a strand of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind his ear. He felt warmth lower, as his body began to awaken for another round.

“We’re not getting much sleep tonight, huh?” Y/N giggled peering down at her husband.

It was a blessing that the Castle automatically out a Silencing charm on teachers’ living quarters, because anyone neighbouring them would have stayed up, hearing sinful, wet slapping sounds of skin all night.

part 6 and part 7 OUT NOW!!

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ayaasdfghjkl · 4 years

Text

12 09 20

Time and again, I am struck by how incredibly blessed I am to be surrounded by the people around me who make me better.

Tonight after sharing a post on Facebook about human rights, I was messaged by my tito and he asked me what the post meant by “double standards in the Philippine justice system”. I explained to him my opinions on the matter, and he said he disagrees with me. We had a whole conversation about the topic and that’s a discussion for another notes app entry entirely, this one’s to type out my realizations during that brief interaction that ended with the screenshot I included in the tweet.

Basically, since the time I got the notification of his message to all his subsequent replies, I couldn’t help but feel that I was being reprimanded for something. I wasn’t. But that’s how I felt and I’m guessing I’m not alone in this feeling. It’s becoming second nature to be on the defensive and looking for every opportunity for offense when talking about politics nowadays. It took a conscious effort on my part to remind myself what the conversation was about - he wasn’t attacking me for my opinions, he was trying to tell me his. He was trying to let me understand his views the same way I was trying to make him see mine.

I’m a big fan of taking the time to reflect - on my thoughts, my actions, especially my words (sometimes maybe too much time hehe) but by stepping back and looking at myself from a different perspective, it’s there that I realize I may be taking things the wrong way, or I may be misunderstanding or misinterpreting something. This, in my opinion, clouds most of our conversations these days. We comment and we speak and we reply and we react but we rarely reflect.

I’m writing this because while I may be vocal towards my criticism on politicians and this administration (which I do strongly stand by), I’m aware that concerns by family members and other adults towards indoctrination and extremism aren’t baseless. I acknowledge their worries and their constant reminders keep me in check.

So I’d like to pass on this little realization to my fellow young ones (yay talking to u fellow gen z), our passion is the strongest weapon we have; but with it must come education, character, experience, skill, caution and wisdom. We can’t only have passion. We have to better ourselves if we want to take a shot at creating a better society. The institutions that compose our country today are made through the decisions and actions of previous generations, if we want to improve them, we have to grow.

We grow by having conversations, especially the difficult ones. Weeks ago, I cried in front of my family because I was so undeniably frustrated that we disagreed about Pduts. That conversation was difficult but it’s a start. I realize not everyone may be in the same situation where they can talk to their families about these kinds of things, and I can only imagine how frustrated you may feel and I empathize. You can vent to me anytime or send me news articles you want me to react to like my one friend does, or talk to your other friends, or you can have a conversation with someone you don’t know. The bottomline is do something about it. If you get overwhelmed or feel helpless/hopeless, read an essay about what you’re feeling, write about it like this, talk about it on your IG stories or your fleets or whatever, do something. I’m not telling you to make noise on social media, that’s mentally draining, I’m asking you to meaningfully take part in this effort towards a better future for us.

Your opinion matters. Respect what others have to say, there is wisdom in it even if we don’t see it, but your respect requires that they respect you right back. Engage in healthy discussions with people who are willing to learn and listen. Be willing to learn and listen. But by all means if they’re toxic and disrespectful and troll-y, block and forget, ladies & gents. However, if you find someone you disagree with and you are both willing to talk about it, if you are ready to have your opinions questioned and your beliefs doubted, start the conversation.

Just because we’re young doesn’t mean we know nothing, but it certainly means that we don’t know everything. Young and old, we all have room to grow. Forever and always, keep the door to that room unlocked. 💙

10 notes · View notes

justjeonday · 4 years

Text

Serendipity | jjk x pjm

Serendipity; the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

By a slip of his finger, Jeongguk ends up meeting his neighbour on the rooftop of their apartment complex - and he finds himself wanting to stay in the moment forever.

Click here to read on AO3.

- pairing: jeon jeongguk x park jimin

- word count: 6K

- rating: PG-13

- genre: sO much fluff, angst, neighbours AU, student!jeongguk, dancer!jimin, airdrop AU, strangers to lovers, jeongguk is shy uwu, you could also call him a professional procrastinator. jimin is intimidating but what’s new

- warnings: descriptions of social anxiety, one or two swear words in there oops please excuse my language

- notes: i didn’t really plan for this to be a mxm fic but it just felt right?? this feels really random and i don’t know if it makes sense at all but please enjoy, I had fun writing it! feedback is very welcome as well <3

also, if you like listening to music while reading, any lofi would go great with this! perhaps, even a lofi version of serendipity... haha jk... unless??

this is partly inspired by the game missed messages created by Angela He, I saw someone play it on youtube and got this idea!

huge thanks to zoe for helping me with this fic, i love u <3

this is a part of the @ficswithluv bulletproof bingo event!

gif by @nanzse, found here.

Jeongguk's room is washed golden as he lays on his bed, soft lofi playing from his phone next to him as his fingers in an unmotivated manner slowly press lettered keys on his laptop. He couldn't be less excited about writing this essay, the assigned topic of 'happy accidents' being something he's not really able to make a connection to.

After getting down a simple, uncreative title at the top of the page, only to end up deleting it, he sighs as he rolls over on his back and lets his eyes flutter closed. The rays of sunshine seeping in through his open window feel nice against his honey skin, the mild May breeze brushing it ever so slightly. This would be perfect if it wasn't for the empty document displayed beside him, calling at him to finish writing already.

He loves evenings like these, just being, listening to the hustle of Seoul coming from the streets as a soft beat escapes his phone. There's something about sunsets that renders a calm to wash over Jeongguk's body, no matter how stressful or dull his day might be - the sight of a sunset makes him stop for a moment; makes him pause and enjoy the present. It's something he treasures deeply, how the warm hues of orange blend in with the blue. It makes him feel excited to be alive, thankful to exist.

He imagines it’s like finally being able to release a breath; coming up for air when you've been held under the surface for almost too long. It quiets his mind, rids him of thoughts that weighed down on his shoulders during the day.

A sudden pling erupting from the laptop causes Jeongguk's eyes to open, the sound harsh in contrast to the music that brought him to his own, peaceful utopia. He frowns as he sits up, grabbing his laptop and placing it in his lap before he leans against the wall his bed is pushed up against.

Jiminie's phone would like to share a photo.

The notification makes Jeongguk furrow his eyebrows in confusion. Who is Jiminie and why is he airdropping Jeongguk of all people?

Out of boredom and in search for another excuse to procrastinate the essay, he decides to see what the stranger wishes to share with him. He clicks accept, and on his screen two pictures appear - causing a scoff to escape Jeongguk's lips. It's dumb really, but despite the unnecessary and pointless pictures, he feels a small smile spread on his lips. He expected something stupid, something to cause a huff and a roll of his eyes - to make his disappointment in humanity increase further.

On his laptop, two pictures of a cat wearing sunglasses are displayed. Jeongguk shakes his head as he snickers quietly by himself. He really doesn’t understand why he finds it so funny but he can't deny it made his evening a little bit better, the dull mood caused by the essay a bit brighter.

He decides to write a thank you in return, typing a few words of gratitude before he hovers over the send button. Should he reply? Maybe he shouldn't. What if the airdrop was sent to the wrong person? It'd make him look stupid if he wrote back.

After over-scrutinizing further, he chooses not to send anything back after all and goes to hit delete, but presses down on the wrong button.

Note sent.

He curses under his breath, cheeks turning crimson in embarrassment. It’s been done, there’s no reason to dwell over it. There’s nothing he can do.

He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair as he shuts the tab, and he's once again met with the sight of a blank page, making him sigh in frustration. Happy accidents. What is he even supposed to write about? His mind is blank, much like the document before him, there's really no specific event in his life relating to the theme he's able to think of.

What a foolish choice of topic.

He feels his heart skip a beat in surprise as yet another notification pops up on his screen. He nibbles at the skin of his bottom lip for a few seconds before he clicks accept once more.

7:49 PM: My pleasure! So... 'Genji', what are you up to?

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut in further embarrassment at his laptop device name. He could’ve just gone for something normal, something simple like 'Jeongguk's laptop'. He sighs at himself as he starts writing a reply to the stranger, who he assumes is named Jiminie - a wild guess thanks to the device name; the simple, non-cringey device name.

7:51 PM: It's Jeongguk. I'm up to nothing much, just procrastinating my essay... u?

Jeongguk presses send before he gets the chance to hit the backspace button and overthink his choice of words. After his note is sent, he finds himself waiting for a reply - eyes lingering in the corner of the screen as he looks for the next notification to pop up. Or the next excuse to further procrastinate, if you will.

And before long, there's another note waiting to be accepted. Without hesitancy, Jeongguk clicks it.

7:54 PM: Bored, looking for something to do... maybe some fresh air could benefit the both of us? ;)

The reply makes Jeongguk quirk an eyebrow at his screen, a faint blush settling over cheeks as he feels flutters of excitement in his gut and nerves blooming in his chest. A few minutes go by as he reads the words over and over, asking himself what to do. He eventually decides to reply even with the amount of intimidation he feels - despite his introverted nature. This time he sits for longer, fingers hovering over keys as he looks for words that sound okay in his head.

8:01 PM: What are you initiating, Jiminie?

Jeongguk’s heart beats fast in his chest as he presses send, fingers picking at the fuzz on his cheek as he partly dreads the reply, partly looks forward to it in a strange anxious excitement. This is so unlike him, to do spontaneous stuff like this, make plans and decisions last minute - especially when he’s well aware it’s involving a complete stranger. He likes knowing what’s gonna happen and giving himself time to mentally prepare for occasions like these, or preferably avoid them.

8:02 PM: Meet me on the rooftop in 20? I'll be waiting.

His face grows hotter as he reads the note repeatedly. He's never done anything like this before. It makes him excited, but causes his hands to become clammy at the foreign but tempting opportunity - a subtle anxiety starting to grow in his chest as he thinks of all the possible ways this could end.

Does he go up to his rooftop in twenty minutes to meet the stranger, put himself through awkward silences and worry? Or does he stay inside, alone, to continue procrastinating his essay?

The latter of the two options does sound much more boring, however, more comfortable and safe in his mind. Yet, he can't help but feel intrigued by this Jiminie he just chatted with, and he's curious.

Fuck it.

He gets up from his bed, grabbing a decent outfit from his wardrobe before throwing it on. He stands in front of the mirror, scanning over the black fabrics before shrugging and deciding it'll do. He doesn't want to be overdressed, or appear as if he actually worried about how he looks. Which he in reality, actually did - but Jiminie doesn’t need to be aware of that.

Before he knows it, fifteen minutes have passed. He slips his boots on and proceeds to stand by the door, watching the time tick on his phone. As the numbers read 8:21 PM, Jeongguk inhales a shaky breath to calm himself before he steps outside of his apartment.

Nerves spread like wildfire in his chest as he walks up the staircase towards the door leading to the rooftop. He stands before it for a few seconds, trying to compose himself before pushing it open. He's met with a world illuminated pink and the smell of cherry blossoms, a warm pleasant breeze brushing through his hair as he takes a hesitant step outside onto the concrete floor.

He doesn't do stuff like this. Jeongguk likes keeping to himself, he enjoys being alone in his room. The most communicating he does is through his headset while playing overwatch. What got into him today, what reason made him say yes to meeting a stranger on his rooftop, he's not certain of.

Jeongguk closes the door behind him as quietly as possible before turning to scan the area, eyes looking for someone unfamiliar; someone his eyes have yet to know.

He's caught by surprise as his wandering gaze stops at the sight of a figure. He sees pink, pink hair swept by the gentle wind. Soft pink, rosy and warm in contrast to the lightblue fuzzy jacket the figure is clad in - a contrast replicated in the sky above.

He's even further intimidated by the daring choice of hair color, another reason along with the previous one of the bold, somewhat flirtatious way he asked Jeongguk to meet on the rooftop just twenty minutes ago.

Jeongguk, after gathering the courage, slowly starts walking closer - nerves almost prompting him to quietly turn around and return to the safe, comfortable space of his apartment. He could leave right now and come up with an excuse as to why he couldn't show up. He considers it for a second, however, he quickly shakes the thought away, not wanting to go through with it no matter how tempting it may be.

He's tired of excuses.

He keeps moving forward, closer to Jimin standing with his back towards Jeongguk - looking out over Seoul.

As his boot scrapes against the ground, the pink-haired turns his head - looking over his shoulder to meet Jeongguk's doe eyes. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights.

More like a bunny, maybe?

Jimin smiles at the sight, now turning with his whole body to greet the younger. "Jeongguk-ssi, you showed up," says Jimin, perfectly plump lips stretching into a smile; showing off his flawlessly aligned teeth.

Jeongguk doesn't say anything, still a few meters away when he stops to give a small bow in respect.

He still doesn’t know why he agreed to this, he’s very well aware a silence like this always lays in the air around him when he’s meeting new people. That’s why he usually avoids occurrences like these, not wanting to put himself in such an anxious state.

He's always awkward when meeting strangers, especially if he's alone - when the conversation is depending on both him and the other involved to keep going. He never knows what to say, never able to find words that feel right. He hates small talk.

Although with Jimin, there's weirdly a welcoming atmosphere in the air. A smile that allows his shoulders to relax slightly, an ambience that tells him to breathe out and be himself. Jeongguk has never felt anything like it before.

Jimin keeps the younger's gaze, and the attention makes Jeongguk look down as a subtle blush settles over the tops of his cheeks. At the same time, while Jimin exudes a scenciere and relaxing vibe, his aura also feels intimidating - radiating confidence and self-esteem much unlike Jeongguk.

Jeongguk doesn't like to stand out in a crowd, he's reserved and timid - he'd rather stay quiet and he has no problem with that, he likes being alone to some extent. When he goes too long without meeting any of his close friends though, he tends to get lonely. That’s when he finds himself wishing he was different in that sense, that he could go out and make new friends whenever he felt like it without having to worry so much about first impressions, or if he stutters too much.

His wardrobe is mostly black, not only because he simply likes how the color looks on him - but also because it feels safe, it’s not too out there. He usually puts on a bucket hat whenever he's out and about, mostly to avoid any awkward eye contact. He could never imagine himself dying his hair pink, or any other color for that matter - since he imagines it'd bring him unwanted attention.

That's just the way he is, and he's always been that way. But he can't deny the desire to be braver, more willing to experiment and explore. He wants to experience more, like dating or just going out with friends without worrying too much. He almost feels stuck, restricted because of this anxiety. It sometimes keeps him up at night, has him wondering who and how he’d be as a person if he was different in that aspect.

Jimin is somewhat stunned himself, much like Jeongguk. He really had no expectations going into this, but the person before him wouldn't be one of them if he did. He wasn't picturing someone who wears black oversized clothes, someone so big and muscular - yet shy. There are obvious outlines of a toned chest under the fabric of the hoodie, only a little more obvious than the pink apples of his cheeks. It makes Jimin's heart warm.

"Are you not gonna join me?"

Jeongguk averts his eyes from his own boots as Jimin’s voice pierces the silence, even though it’s soft and inviting. He becomes very aware he's still standing an awkward distance away at the question, giving Jimin as small nod as he walks up to the railing - fingers tightening into fists as he tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie.

His gaze wanders over the busy street below as he searches for the right words to say, but he can't seem to find any. He sneaks a glance at Jimin before he looks up at the sky, feeling a solace embrace him. He exhales as his body relaxes at the sight of the sunset. Everything’s okay.

"Do you-" he stutters slightly, stopping mid-sentence to compose himself. "Have you lived here long? I haven't seen you around," he manages to say, a small flower of pride growing in his chest.

Jimin is taken aback hearing the shy speak, gaze falling upon him to meet big, constellation-filled brown eyes, in which create a sunset of their own as the sky reflects in them - an even prettier one, as stars in his orbs decorate it further.

"No not really, I moved in just a few weeks ago," Jimin replies. "I spend the majority of my days at work though, so that's probably why we haven’t met yet."

Jeongguk feels a question linger at the tip of his tongue, deciding to let it free before he overthinks it.

"What do you do?" he asks, partly to keep the focus of the conversation away from himself but for the most part out of curiosity.

Jimin smiles at the interest, running a hand through his hair before speaking. "I do contemporary dancing, weird huh?"

"I don't think it's weird," Jeongguk shrugs. "Why do you say that?"

Jimin looks out over the city, painted pink, as he searches for an answer. "Well, it's not a typical job and you don't really earn a lot doing it. Most people would say it's stupid to work towards a career like mine, that it won't get me anywhere."

Jeongguk listens as Jimin speaks, and he notices a spark of passion glimmer in his eyes.

"So why did you choose that path?" Jeongguk surprises himself as the question rolls off his tongue, noticing how his shoulders are no longer as tense.

"I've been dancing ever since I was little, there's just something about it that I love. It's my escape, in a sense. Whenever I dance, all I do is move to the music - I don't think of anything, I don't worry. It’s almost as if my mind goes quiet." He says, eyes following the fluffy clouds floating over the sky. "It's really not about earning money for me, and even though it's nice to benefit from it in a financial way, that's not what keeps me going. It may be tough sometimes but I love dancing, and that's why I do it. Despite it not being an average job, or the most reliable and profitable one."

"I like that though, the fact you're doing something that's different. I think it's important to do something you enjoy, something that makes you excited to wake up and get ready. I hope I can find a passion like that in the future." Jeongguk avoids meeting Jimin’s gaze for even more than a second, eyes moving from him to the sky, then down to watch people walk by below.

Jimin turns to Jeongguk with a smile, chest filled with warmth at his words. "I hope so too."

Jeongguk gives a small smile in return as a silence falls over the both of them, but it's not one you necessarily want to fill. It's peaceful and comfortable, much to Jeongguk's surprise.

They stay like that for another hour, sitting with arms resting over the railing as their feet dangle over the edge of the building while they get to know each other - carefully stolen glances and unspoken words lingering at the tips of their tongues. Night has now fallen over the city, neon lights decorating the streets as bars become crowded and streets become busy - even more so than before.

Upon spending time together, albeit for just an hour or two, Jimin finds himself growing quite fond of Jeongguk.

At first sight, he wouldn't have expected the boy next to him to be so shy - as someone who blushes at compliments and eye contact lasting for more than a few seconds. All this is hidden beneath his attire, sporting chunky boots along with ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie - also considering that these are all black. Dark from head to toe. It almost makes him intimidating to Jimin, in a way. However, Jimin must admit it looks really good on him, it suits him, but it doesn't match his personality one bit. He's sweet and timid, all bunny smiles and dimples with big, sparkly, doe eyes - far from what Jimin would associate with the dark, edgy style he's donned in.

After another tranquil silence hangs in the air around them, Jimin looks at the watch on his wrist - noticing the clock is nearing 10 PM. He’d love nothing more than to stay here, learning more about Jeongguk, talking nonsense, just being in his presence.

He had heard Jeongguk laugh for the first time as he asked about his device name ‘Genji’. He had with a smile explained the reasoning to Jimin, talking about how it was inspired by a character named just that of his advice from a game he played - because said character is one that needs healing, in this case, charging the most often. Jimin has never found video games fun or entertaining, but when it’s Jeongguk who speaks of it; he feels as if he could listen for hours, secretly admiring the dimples that dip in his cheeks as he smiles.

“I have work tomorrow, I should probably get my eight hours of beauty sleep in before I have to wake up,” Jimin chuckles, and as much as he hates to say it - he really needs to get rest considering he’ll be working on a new choreography tomorrow, which he knows requires more energy and focus than just practicing.

They accompany each other as they make their way down from the rooftop, shoulders brushing as they walk down the stairs - slowing down as they step onto the seventh floor.

"This is me," Jimin says, head nodding in direction of the door with the number 202 on it.

Jeongguk stands quiet, a small smile on his lips as he suddenly feels awkward again - gaze wandering around the hallway, avoiding the other’s eyes.

Jimin decides to speak instead of waiting for Jeongguk to, having gathered by now that he’s someone who needs that extra push to get comfortable around someone - that it's easier for him to speak if someone helps guide the conversation forward. Although, he noticed Jeongguk slowly warming up to him on the roof; and he’d be laying if he said it doesn’t makes his heart happy.

"Thank you for meeting me tonight Jeongguk, I had a really great time," Jimin says, smiling as he backs up towards his door.

"So did I," Jeongguk replies, looking down at his boots as his smile grows bigger. "Goodnight, Jimin-ssi." He gives a small bow in Jimin’s direction.

There's really no need to be so formal anymore, there never was, but Jimin appreciates the gesture of respect nonetheless.

He decides to play along, bowing at a 90 degree to the younger angle with arms stiff against his sides. "Sleep well, Jeongguk-ssi."

Jeongguk chuckles at him, and the sound makes Jimin smile.

Minutes later, Jeongguk walks into his own apartment - adrenaline rushing through his veins because of the new, exciting experience. He lets himself lean back against the door after closing it, eyes squeezing shut as he smiles widely.

He feels stupid, like he’s a teenager with a crush. As he thinks back to what just happened, thinking about Jimin's smile, his light touches over the fabric on Jeongguk's shoulder - he feels a tickle in his gut, cheeks growing hotter as he longs to be in that presence again even though it’s only been minutes since they said goodbye.

He tries to shake the thoughts of the pink-haired away but it’s of no avail, kicking his boots off and stepping into his apartment as he exhales. He figures there's no use trying to finish his essay now, knowing his mind will wander to picture Jimin's face in his mind - try to recall the sound of his angelic laugh.

Oh, how he loves Jimin's laugh. The way he throws his head back, eyes turning into crescent moons as his hand comes up to cover his mouth - his knees almost buckling underneath him. He laughs with his whole body, and it makes Jeongguk feel a kind of joy he's never felt before. He'd do anything to hear that laugh over and over again, he’d even give up overwatch.

Jeongguk falls back on his bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling as he tries to rid his mind of Jimin again. It's hopeless. He's already too far gone.

The next few days go by agonizingly slow. Jeongguk sits through multiple online classes, each getting harder to concentrate on than the previous one.

He got a taste of Jimin that night, his smiles, his touch, his laugh. He got a taste of that new, alien feeling - the butterflies, the leap of his heart inside his ribcage.

He craves more. He wants to feel it again, he wants to feel that rush he felt when they first met - that joy he felt by just being with Jimin, sitting next to him and listening to his voice as he speaks.

By Friday noon, three days later, he's on his way home from the nearest store with his beloved bucket hat on as per usual, a bag in each hand as he walks back home - most of the contents being ramen and banana milk, of course. He pushes the door to his apartment complex open by turning around and pressing his back against it, squeezing himself along with the heavy bags through the frame before walking over to the elevator.

He'd secretly wish to bump into Jimin, anywhere, anytime - like he has been ever since they met on the rooftop - but he's been finding it useless so far. He still has yet to see Jimin again.

Jeongguk had been sitting in his bed yesterday, fingers itching to send an airdrop to Jimin, something like a casual ‘what’s up?’, but he never went through with it. He'd feel desperate, clingy - he didn't want to seem that way. He shut his laptop with a sigh, pulling the covers up to his chin before closing his eyes and returning to his utopia - sunsets, lofi, and Jimin.

A new addition to his paradise. Someone he's so uncertain about, someone he barely knows, but yet he feels so sure of.

Jeongguk reaches up to press the button on the wall, hissing quietly as the handles of the paper bag strains against his wrist. Only a few seconds later, the elevator doors slide open - but the small space isn't empty. In the elevator stands Jimin with messy hair, gaze moving from his phone in his hand to look before him where Jeongguk is standing.

"Oh! Jeongguk-ssi," Jimin beams, stepping out of the elevator.

Jeongguk almost feels relieved to see the bright, joyful, pink-haired boy again - heart skipping a beat at the pleasant surprise. "Hi," He exhales, eyes locking with Jimin's.

“I like your hat,” He laughs, walking by Jeongguk. “Shame it covers your pretty face.”

Jeongguk’s breath is caught in his throat by the unexpected compliment, blood rushing to his cheeks - making him thankful he has the hat on to hide it. He stays quiet, not really certain how he should respond to such words.

"I'd love to speak but I have to hurry back to work." Jimin doesn't stop as he talks, but turns around and walks backwards as he keeps Jeongguk's gaze. "Meet me later? Same time, same place?" He says with a small smile, not caring to wait for an answer before he turns around and exits the building.

Jeongguk stands frozen, eyes stuck by the door where Jimin is now nowhere to be seen. For the few seconds he got to see Jimin again, he's grateful - but he wishes their interaction wasn't so brief, too quick for him to take in the beauty that is Park Jimin.

Jeongguk returns from his pink haze as the elevator doors start sliding shut again, quickly putting a bag in between them to stop the motion before he steps inside. He feels giddy as he waits for the arrival to his own floor, staring blankly in front of him as he repeats Jimin's words in his head.

'Meet me later'.

His heart leaps in his chest, an unwanted smile spreading across his lips as he looks down at the floor in embarrassment - despite being alone in the elevator.

Jimin too, can’t help but smile as he gets into his car. Since he asked Jeongguk to meet him three days ago, since they talked on the rooftop, Jimin often caught himself thinking about the boy - wondering what he’s up to. Even when dancing, he can’t help but let his mind wander, making it difficult to focus on perfecting his moves for the new choreography.

He feels a weird, unusual connection with Jeongguk - one he’s never felt before, not even with his past lovers or any of his friends. It almost feels like they were supposed to meet that night, like it was destined. Like they’re fated to know each other.

Jeongguk finds himself sprawled across the sofa hours later, phone in hand as he repeatedly checks the time - a random k-drama playing on his TV, in which has been given minimal attention since he put it on. He lets out another sigh after looking at his phone, noticing only a little over an hour has passed since he checked it at 4 PM.

Three long hours left until he can see Jimin again.

Seconds feel like minutes, minutes feel like hours. But eventually, the clock strikes 7:50 PM and Jeongguk immediately gets up from the couch, excitement quickly spreading through his body.

Finally.

He finds Jimin the same place he was standing when they met three days ago, now sitting down on a blanket instead of leaning against the railing. He doesn’t hesitate before he starts walking closer this time, causing the older to look his way at the sound of his unusually confident footsteps.

“What’s this?” Jeongguk chuckles, gesturing to the blanket and pillows placed on the concrete.

Jimin smiles, patting the ground next to him for Jeongguk to sit down. “I figured we’d be here for a while and standing up isn’t really that comfortable.”

That’s probably for the best, Jeongguk figures, since he found himself worried Jimin would fall if he laughed too hard when they previously met. He almost wants to laugh at the memory of his doubt in Jimin’s balance.

He’s a dancer for god's sake.

Jeongguk pushes the tickling thought to the back of his head before he nods with a smile, sitting down next to Jimin before looking out over Seoul - a beautiful sunset once again painting the city in orange and pink hues.

“I missed you,” Jimin suddenly speaks, hand coming up to run soothingly over Jeongguk’s back - giving him shivers running down his spine.

Jeongguk looks at him for a few seconds before returning his gaze to the skyline with a small smile sneaking its way onto his lips. “You did?” He asks, voice quiet as he fiddles with his fingers.

“Yeah, did you miss me as well?”

You’re all I’ve been thinking about.

Jeongguk only answers with a small nod, head turning slightly to look at Jimin again - cheeks rosy with timidity. Jimin snickers at him before looking out over the city again.

“Do you wanna listen to music?” Jimin asks, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

Jeongguk feels weirdly cold despite the warm spring evening as Jimin’s hand falls from his back.

“Uh yeah, sure.”

Jimin holds it for Jeongguk to take. “Put something on.”

“Oh... I’m not sure you’ll like my taste in music,” Jeongguk shakes his head.

Jimin only laughs at his shy behaviour. “Don’t worry so much, Gguk.”

Jeongguk releases a barely audible sigh as he looks at Jimin, taking the phone from his hand hesitantly - feeling butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, the flutters only intensifying as his fingers accidentally brush over Jimin’s, tingles lingering on his fingertips at the touch.

“What do you listen to?” Jeongguk asks while he presses letters on Jimin’s phone, trying to find a playlist that looks good enough.

“I listen to a lot of different music because of work, but I really enjoy ballads with acoustic guitars and stuff - any calming music really.”

Jeongguk nods to show he’s paying attention, fingers stopping their scrolling as he finds a playlist - pressing play before handing the phone back to Jimin.

A soft beat fills the air around them, along with the lively sound of Seoul coming from the streets below them.

“Lofi?” Jimin smiles, placing the phone in between them on the blanket.

Jeongguk nods, eyes following Jimin who lays down on the blanket next to him - head landing on one of the pillows. Jeongguk follows shortly, letting himself fall back to lay beside him.

“It’s nice~” Jimin sighs in bliss, looking up at the pink sky.

Jeongguk and Jimin talk about everything and anything as the sky darkens and stars come out from hiding. Hours later they're still laying next to each other on the concrete, stargazing into the black abyss.

Jeongguk turns his head to look at Jimin, who is looking up at the celestial bodies above. "So, do you just casually airdrop strangers in your freetime?" He asks with a laugh, referring to a few days ago when he got that first notification.

Jimin chuckles, placing an arm under his head. "No, I was just really bored so I airdropped everyone available."

“I thought I was special,” Jeongguk jokes, acting disappointed as he pouts.

Jimin hits the younger’s shoulder lightly, laughing before looking up at the stars again. “You are, I haven’t met anyone else I sent the pictures to.”

"Why did you ask me to meet you?"

Jimin turns to Jeongguk again at the question, eyes meeting. "You're the only one who replied to me."

With cheeks turning rubescent at the intense gaze Jimin gives, Jeongguk looks up at the sky again as a smile creeps onto his lips. He feels his heart flutter in his chest.

"Jeongguk," Jimin says, trying to get the attention of the boy laying next to him.

"Hm?" Jeongguk hums in response, unaware as he turns his head to look at Jimin once again.

Jimin doesn't say anything else, only admires him. Jeongguk is drawn in by Jimin's stare, not wanting to look away again. He too, admires the other's face. Soft skin, pretty nose.

Pink, plush lips.

Jimin turns to lay on his side, now even closer while simultaneously causing their faces to end up only a few inches apart as they stay looking at each other. Jeongguk keeps still with bated breath as he notices Jimin's gaze fall to look at his lips - making him unconsciously part them as his own gaze falls down to admire Jimin’s, trying to imagine what they would feel like against his own.

Without thinking too much, or giving himself time to change his mind and back out; Jimin leans forward - slowly inching closer. Jeongguk's heart beats fast in his chest but he lets eyes flutter closed as he feels the brush of lips against his own, excitement and tranquility blooming in his chest all at the same time. The touch is feather-light against his lips, but it makes him feel more than he ever has before.

When Jimin finally presses his lips firmly against Jeongguk’s, it makes him exhale deeply through his nose as pink explodes in his chest.

Jimin’s hand comes up to cup Jeongguk’s cheek as he leans in further, deepening the kiss even more - making Jeongguk’s body relax against his touch and lean into it. Jimin lets his tongue swipe over Jeongguk’s bottom lip lightly, prompting them to open before he feels the younger’s tongue against his own. He feels Jeongguk’s breath tickle against his skin as the kiss intensifies.

After a few more seconds of connected lips, blissful exhales, tasting Jeongguk’s cherry lip balm, Jimin pulls away and opens his eyes to look at him. Jeongguk’s eyes stay closed as he licks his bottom lip before biting down on it, still tasting Jimin's lips on his own. Jimin licks his own lips as he watches, aching to feel Jeongguk's pressed against them again.

"Hmm, are you wearing cherry lip balm?" Jimin hums with a voice barely louder than a whisper, a small smile on his lips as he lets his thumb brush over Jeongguk’s bottom lip.

Jeongguk breaks into a bunny smile, hands coming up to cover his eyes as he turns shy at the thought of what just happened. Jimin snickers at his behaviour as he sits up, looking down on his wrist to check the time.

12:08 AM.

"It's late, we should probably-" He's interrupted by a pull of his shirt, causing him to fall back into his previous position.

This time, it's Jeongguk's turn to initiate the kiss - lips pressing against Jimin's again. He surprises himself by the action, but he can't help it - longing to taste Jimin's lips a second time, feel them against his own once more.

Jeongguk cups Jimin’s face with both hands as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, to feel Jimin even closer. He wants to stay like this forever, he wants to be with Jimin for as long as possible. He never wants to let go.

Their lips meeting holds just as much passion as before but lasts for a few seconds less before they have to part again, both needing to catch a breath because of the intensity of the kiss. Jeongguk chases after Jimin’s lips before letting his fall down on the pillow beneath him in defeat, realizing he needs to regain a steady breath as he feels his chest heave up and down.

Before standing up, Jimin places a haste, light kiss on Jeongguk's nose - making him scrunch it in an adorable manner. Jimin chuckles as he watches Jeongguk open his eyes slowly, an apparent blush laying across his cheeks as he looks up at the older.

Jeongguk's smiles with his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he shamelessy admires Jimin, still not moving from his position on the floor. He feels so happy.

Is this what true happiness feels like?

The end of his week turned out much different from what he ever could’ve imagined. Normally, he'd be laying on his sofa by this hour, stuffing his face with ramen while having some anime or k-drama playing on the TV - happy and relieved he’d be getting two days without having to attend any classes.

If at the beginning of this week, someone told him he’d be kissing his neighbour at midnight by the end of it - he'd think of them as crazy. Jeongguk? The timid and introverted Jeongguk? Kissing someone? He himself couldn't see it happening anytime soon. He figured it’d be too hard for him to find a connection like that with someone, considering his shy nature.

But here he is, the inside of his chest painted pink because of his love-struck state, butterflies wild in his stomach - eyes looking up to admire the person standing in front of him.

The stars in the sky seem to shine brighter than ever before. He finds himself feeling euphoric, almost high on the emotion. He feels relaxed and free of any burdens, just like the sunset they'd been watching earlier managed to make him feel.

He never planned for this to happen, he never expected his week to end up this way. But it did, by a single slip of his finger.

Jeongguk met Jimin through serendipity; a happy accident.

Happy accidents.

Oh, how happy he is they exist.

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spiderparkerpeterman · 4 years

Text

so basically i’m baby

hmm. my last fic wasn't very popular, oops. back to fluff and feel-good content! enjoy!

content: fluff, reader being done with peter's shit, shenanigans involving those of the fur and baby kinds

warnings: reader is a meme because i have chaotic energy, lapslock, minor existential stuff

word count: 2139 (fuck oops)

you were lying on your stomach on peter's bed, watching him putter around his dorm room, putting together a presentation for his photography elective. you didn't have a due date for another week, so you had taken the chance to lounge around and laugh at peter for his assignment woes. you were scrolling through instagram when an ad for some baby clothes company came up.

"urgh," you groaned, "i look up baby carriers one time and now instagram thinks i'm pregnant."

peter looked at you from the floor where several undeveloped rolls of pictures surrounded him. "why'd you look up baby carriers?"

"i thought it'd be funny to put my spider-plushie in there and carry it around campus. like 'here's my baby, oh wait it's spider-man!'" you replied with a grin.

"i should have never allowed spider-plushie to be made. you're a menace to society, y/n," peter replied. "anyways, what's so bad about instagram giving you all those ads? never too early to start looking for good baby stuff."

you raised an eyebrow. "i'm not going to hoard baby supplies for a baby that i'll never have, peter. that's weird."

"what do you mean, 'for a baby you'll never have?'" peter asked, to which you groaned again.

"peter. my darling. love- no, wait- larb of my life. i thought you knew? must not have told you. i don't really want kids," you said, shuffling to the edge of the bed so you could hang off of it, putting your hands on the floor to keep yourself horizontal. you were really close to peter's face.

peter's now sad, pouting face.

"you don't want kids?" he asked, feeling his future almost melt away. he'd always imagined having a few kids, watching them grow up and go off to school and then college and growing old with you in your cosy little suburban house with a nice backyard and secret basement for all his spider-man needs. peter loved kids. he often went to orphanages and hospitals to play with and give hope to the kids of new york.

"sorry," you said honestly. "i've just never seen myself with kids."

"you'd make a great mom though," peter whined. you blushed a little- it was a nice compliment, sure, but motherhood wasn't really your style.

"thanks, but... i dunno. it's just not for me."

"not even hearing tiny human feet running to you after a hard day of work and having the tiny little body belonging to said tiny little feet run into you, babbling about how they missed you?" peter asked, his puppy-eyes in full effect now.

but you weren't going to fall victim to his tricks. "no," you replied, a soft smile on your face. "that's your dream, not mine, babe. 'no kids' is the first clause of my mental relationship contract."

"but why not?"

"like i said. not my thing."

three days passed, and you had started on your assignment. it was now peter's turn to hang around your dorm and laugh at your assignment woes. you were at your desk, typing away; peter was sitting against your bed on the floor, messing around with his camera.

he cleared his throat. you decided to ignore him, thinking it was just something he needed to do. but then he did it again. you spun your chair to face him.

"yes, peter?" you asked with an air of exasperation.

"i was just thinking. about what you said the other day," he replied, innocent smile on his face- but you knew better. you knew what he was talking about- that damn kids conversation, but you decided to mess with him a little.

"what did i say the other day? was it the thing about deep-dish pizza? because i'm still absolutely serious about that, you know. or was it about naming my spider plant peter- is that a little too on the nose? because the name has stuck, i'm not changing it," you said, giving a leaf of peter the spider plant on your desk a soft stroke.

"ha ha," peter deadpanned. "first of all, i'm still deeply, truly offended about the deep-dish pizza, this is new york, we are not heathens. secondly, naming a plant after me is a little weird. thirdly, it's about the kids thing."

you raised your eyebrows and formed your mouth into a little 'o' in mock surprise. "that little old thing?" you asked, heavily faking nonchalance. "i do not remember it. i cannot read suddenly, i do not know."

"it was a verbal conversation, babe," peter laughed. "it's just- you don't wanna feel that fear and apprehension but also relief of sending your kid off to their first day of school? being so proud of them for making it this far, knowing that it was all you?"

you shrugged. "again, not really for me. i don't like feeling, peter, you know that."

"you literally sobbed over that talking dog movie the other day," peter pointed out, and you flapped a hand at him vaguely.

"i was on my period, hormones do that to you," you huffed. peter just looked at you with his eyebrows raised. you stared at him, before- "okay, fine, he was abandoned, that shit's sad! and right at the end of the movie? who does that! so i feel very strongly about dogs being abandoned. but other than that, i don't like feeling, having emotions is so last year."

peter laughed, so you turned back around and continued your essay.

it was another week before peter brought up the kid thing again. you had refused to even so much as think about children the whole time, because how dare peter try to out-debate you.

that was until you were having your fortnightly date night, involving a nice dinner, and a walk around central park, or watching a movie at the cinema, or just ordering pizza and making a blanket fort to watch disney movies in. on this particular night, you had gone to mcdonalds and ordered exclusively off their breakfast menu then left to have a faux-picnic at the local play park. it was almost seven in the evening, so all the kids had cleared off to go have dinner because it had gotten dark, so you two were sitting on a wooden bridge between the slide and mini rock-climbing wall.

peter was staring off to the side of the park, where a small group of teenagers were playing basketball on the one-hoop court. you stared at him.

"whatcha thinking about?" you asked, taking a bite of your mcmuffin.

"what if we have a kid and they grow up and want to go play basketball with their mates at seven in the evening and you're, like, worried they'll get mugged or make bad choices but also happy that they've got friends and do sports and trust you enough to ask?" peter blurted out. you stared at him, mid-chew.

you swallowed thickly. "if you wanna go play basketball with the kids so bad, go. i'll keep your food safe for you. by eating it."

"no, i'm serious!" peter looked at you. "like, that's a milestone! but what if the kid gets mugged or kidnapped or something and we have to pay a ransom or call the police about it?"

"you're spider-man, peter," you pointed out, now taking a sip of your milkshake. "you'd probably go and watch over the kid then rush home when they leave and try to be nonchalant about the fact that you were just watching them, and they'd see through you because you're a horrible liar or something."

"does this mean you want a-"

"no."

peter flashed his puppy-eyes at you, but you were too busy seeing if mcmuffins, hash browns and milkshakes tasted good when eaten at the same time to care.

"ok, y/n," peter announced as soon as he opened his dorm door for you, "i thought about why you don't want kids. most mothers are terrified of childbirth. so, and hear me out, we adopt."

you put your bag down on his floor and flopped on his bed. "nah."

"seriously?"

there was something in peter's tone that made you sit up and look at him, fully prepared to be sincere and honest. "pete, look. it's not childbirth that scares me- i mean, yeah, that much pain is terrifying and i never ever want to go through it, but... i just don't like kids. never have."

"why? how can you not like children, they're adorable."

you raised an eyebrow. "they're messy. snotty. gross- dirty in general. they can't wipe their own noses until they're like, three. that's disgusting, i'm not cleaning other humans' snot off their faces. you get no sleep, no breaks, and you know i'm not a people person- i can't really handle being around people 24/7. even you, pete, i'm sorry," you explained, and peter pursed his lips.

"you like your cousins," he said.

"i kind of have to like my cousins, pete. but i don't have to see them every hour of every day. i barely even see them once a month. i need breaks, and rest, and to be alone sometimes. and to be appreciated. and validated. i'm basically baby and need validation, like, all the time. kids don't do that." you stood up and walked to peter, holding his hands. "i know how much kids mean to you, and maybe i'll change my mind in the future, but right now, i'm scared."

"of what?" peter whispered.

"of growing up. of being responsible for another human life. of having to be an adult and having all these responsibilities. i love you and i trust you, but i don't like to think of the future too much. i live in the present, pete. live mas, forever is composed of nows, everything else is uncertain, carpe diem, the world is burning, hotel trivago, i don't know," you sighed, "just trust me on this, okay?"

peter nodded, giving you a quick kiss. "i love you so much, i'm sorry for bugging you."

"it's okay, love," you giggled, "it was getting kind of funny, actually. you did research on why people don't have kids. that's hilarious."

peter laughed, dipping his head down. you poked at his curls. "i guess i got a little carried away."

"live the extra life, peter. never let anyone tell you that there's such thing as getting carried away."

you were sitting in a class, barely awake, your laptop in front of you showing an empty word document. your silenced phone lit up, showing your lock screen of peter running into tape in the doorway of his room at aunt may's apartment. you unlocked it to see peter's newest text message.

peter: i did a thing

y/n: oh god what did you do

peter: i found a baby

y/n: i'm sorry? a whole ass baby?

y/n: you found an entire baby? lying around????

y/n: peter we talked about this you know i'm frightened of responsibility, that's your thing

peter left you on read, so you stared, mildly outraged, at your phone, totally ignoring your professor. ten minutes later, peter replied.

peter: sorry the baby peed on my backpack i had to put it in the wash

y/n: i'm SORRY??

peter: i know we can't have babies in the dorm but he was just so cute i couldn't help myself

y/n: peter did you just kidnap a random trash baby what is happening do i need to leave class

peter: nononono i've got it, he's a little rambunctious

y/n: big words for a dumbass

peter: i couldn't say no to those eyes, y/n

a picture popped up on your screen. of a puppy. a little spaniel puppy was looking into the camera with the biggest, brightest brown eyes you had ever seen on any living being. peter's camera was so close to the puppy's face that his snout was elongated, making him look even cuter.

y/n: !!!

y/n: those eyes!

peter: those eyes!!!

peter: !!!!!!!!!!

peter: can we keep him?

y/n: i think you need to take him to the vet first

peter: i found him by a dumpster while doing patrol, i don't think anyone owns him

y/n: wait ten minutes so i can get out of class and then we are taking him to the vet, peter benjamin 'dognapper' parker, this isn't about if someone owns him it's about if this dog has worms and you just infested your entire dorm with illegal trash puppy worm germs

peter: can we name him spider-pup i think he needs to be my sidekick

y/n: PETER YOU MAY HAVE JUST INTRODUCED FLEAS TO YOUR DORM BUILDING YOU ARE SO LUCKY I LOVE YOU

peter, of course, left you on read. god damn that boy.

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readyforit · 4 years

Note

Rank your classes (either in tiers or in order)

hi sorry for taking forever to respond but here you go!

history - this isn’t necessarily my favourite subject (I’m not overly passionate about any of them I don’t think) but at least it’s one I enjoy! tbh it can get pretty boring a lot of the time, especially when you have to learn about stupid white men, but it can also be fun and interesting - especially when you look at things like one long story. it’s also nice to see the causes and consequences of events and how it shapes the world today. I also kind of like the structure of the subject, like I guess I like writing essays and expressing my opinion on things, I love how there’s no right or wrong either too

fine art - I love art so so much but this is hands down the most stressful subject. we constantly have mountains of work to get done so I’m always behind, and tbh I sort of find the course pretty narrow - like all the art we create has to be have been inspired by a specific artist, which I think limits our ability. we also have to do soooo much analysis like... I just want to make art <3 I don’t care about the symbolism or deeper meaning of it. that being said, it’s the best to sit down and express yourself through an art piece you’re working on - kind of like disconnecting yourself from the world for a bit

chinese - I don’t know if I REALLY like chinese but it’s like the easiest subject that I take so it’s like the only time when I’m never lost or confused. it’s also really interactive so lessons are always fun and upbeat. I hate the tests, we have to read write listen and speak, but other than that it’s pretty fun!

english - to be honest... most of the time english is soooo boring I don’t know how I can stand it. not EVERYTHING has a deeper meaning and it’s so silly to keep droning on and on and on about the literary devices in text I couldn’t care less about. it’s even worse when we have to write our own essays. it’s just pretty boring as a whole but... at the same time I guess I kind of like english, it’s always a calming peaceful environment and again, I love how there’s no right or wrong and anything could be open up to debate

maths - I don’t really like maths as a whole - but I guess it depends, it can be a breeze once you understand a concept, but it can also be sooo miserable when you don’t understand anything. and I’m usually the latter because I can’t concentrate. <3 also I’m bad at science so there’s a lot more pressure for me to do well in maths. I like how it can be so straightforward though, like a universal language anyone could understand

biology - I used to hate biology but I think it’s becoming my favourite science! it’s actually kind of fun to learn about life, plus the concepts are pretty straightforward and pretty much basic knowledge. I think I found biology really confusing last year and that’s why I hated it, but our bio teacher left and our new one is great at teaching and makes everything seem so simple so !!

music - I HAAAAATE MUSIC. music the art form is the greatest thing in the world, but the subject... goodbye. I have a background in music so I thought this subject would be pretty easy for me, but it’s so impossible that I have a mental breakdown like twice a day. I think it’s so pointless - especially the analysis component of it. we have to analyse these music pieces right down to the smallest details, it’s so dumb!!!! like how on earth am I meant to know why the composer decided to use an F# note in bar 489???? we have to memorise stupid details like that for the exam, I’m going to cry. on top of that, we have to create a composition and perform a piece and ahhhhh it’s so much for me. I find it so stressful and I don’t find it enjoyable at all. I tried switching to geography last year but my head of grade told me that I should take music as a “fun challenge” so :)

pe - don’t even know why pe exists <3 if people want to be fit, they should just do it outside of class. I think it’s such a waste of time dlfkjflkj and it’s obvious everyone in my class agrees. also I think it’s kind of stupid but we get graded based on our effort, like how is our teacher meant to know how hard we’re trying dflkjdfbflj

physics - physics is literally maths but harder and with more words. who wants that. I think physics can be pretty straightforward once you get the hang of it, but it’s so hard to memorise all these formulas and equations, it gets so technical sometimes I hate it

chemistry - CHEMISTRY IS THE WORST. not even exaggerating when I say that I’ve never understood anything in a chemistry lesson before. I couldn’t even tell you what I don’t understand because it’s just ~everything~... absolutely nothing makes sense. it’s so ugly and awful I can’t stand it. I don’t know why but like as soon as I step into the science lab, I physically feel my brain turn to mush and I can’t focus through the whole lesson dlfjkflkjf. it’s just so frustrating and I’ve never understood chemistry or found it interesting in any way and I’m so excited to get it over and done with when the year ends

#thank you for the ask 😼#anon #love letters

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mofirsrara1988-blog · 4 years

Video

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Assess Whether Religious Experience Demonstrates the Existence of God Essay

Strict experience can be analyzed into various assortments. Alvin Plantinga contended that regular encounters, for example, the sun rising ought to comprise as a strict encounter as the sun rising is so moving and invokes strict conviction out of wonderment. Some would contend that wonders or remarkable events are verification of Godâ€™s presence. If one somehow managed to see a man transforming water into wine one would consider it to be tremendous and conceivable reason strict conviction. The two wonders and ordinary events are open encounters as they can be seen by anybody; anyway there are increasingly private/individual strict encounters. Dreams and dreams, for example, St. Paul making progress toward Damascus (where he heard the voice of Jesus), just apply to the individual imagining them. These are additionally utilized as strict encounters in the event that you heard the voice of Jesus it would clearly be viewed as a strict occasion. There is likewise the continuous inclination that God is around you, he is managing you through life, and this again is unbelievable yet reasonable defense for the theist as it interfaces with the possibility of Godâ€™s ubiquity. At long last there are likewise magical experience as William James clarified them these are unutterable (can't be articulated) transient (exceptionally serious experience yet not really a long encounter, the impacts anyway can endure forever) detached (can't be constrained by the beneficiary) encounters that are basically indefinable. Rudolf Otto depicted magical encounters as â€œnuminousâ€ this is the inclination of stunningness and marvel when gone up against with the heavenly nature that is God numinous encounters are one of unnerving and convincing secret. Should strict encounters be the premise of Godâ€™s presence or are they basically peculiar occasions that are good for nothing. David Hume and A.J. Ayer are notable empiricists. They would contend that except if something observationally confirmed it ought not be regarded important so if I somehow happened to see God that ought to be viewed as significant as it is experimentally checked. If I somehow managed to see a feline strolling over a road I would contemplate internally that is a feline, most likely would enter my brain I would essentially set up that a feline was strolling over a road. At the point when one seeâ€™s/encounters God why a similar kind of rationale ought not be applied is crazy. If I somehow happened to see God I would feel that is God no inquiries posed. Dreams of God and supernatural occurrences are exactly certain strict encounters, Hume and Ayer can't excuse these as that would be conflicting to their entrenched convictions, in this way experimentally confirmed strict encounters can be utilized an adequate support for Godâ€™s presence. The cynics answer to this contention is how might we confide in our exact techniques for defense. One could be daydreaming, the main explanation St. Paul saw God was on the grounds that he was denied of water and had social weights from the rising Christian religion. A.J. Ayer noticed that a straight stick seems bowed in water, if our faculties can bamboozle us once they will beguile us once more, we can't confide in experimental proof in this way it can't be utilized as avocation for a strict encounter and unquestionably can't be utilized to legitimize Godâ€™s presence. Likewise imagine a scenario where the subject of assumed strict experience has taken a type of psyche adjusting drug without a doubt then exact proof can't be utilized to legitimize any kind of vision. At last the doubter would take note of that a strict encounter isn't a conventional encounter, one seeâ€™s trees regular however encountering God is very unique. As logicians we should see these phenomenal encounters distinctively and be progressively systematic into the causes, (for example, taking a gander at the beneficiary of the experience). In Brian Davies book â€œAn Introduction to the Philosophy of Religionâ€ he features that to dismiss experimental proof with no significant motivation to question is basically crazy. He says that on the off chance that one is of sound psyche, has great visual perception and is of sensible knowledge except if then there isnâ€™t actually any motivation to question yourself, we utilize observational proof to make ordinary declarations subsequently it ought to be the same when seeing â€œGodâ€, He likewise features that on the off chance that it is conceivable to fantasize it is additionally conceivable to see accurately, in spite of the fact that this sounds exceptionally essential it rejects the contention from fantasy (utilized by most cynics to question sense information). Sure we can see things that arenâ€™t truly there yet more often than not we are not daydreaming. Brian Davies additionally utilizes the case of a man called Fred. He expresses that Fred is â€œas distraught as a hatter and as alcoholic as a Lordâ€ Fred likewise consistently daydreams and in view of this very few individuals tune in to what he needs to state. In spite of Fred ceaseless fantasies it isn't all in all correct to state that all that he says isn't right, in some cases he could be coming clean. Davies infers that â€œthe certainty that a few people are inclined to misunderstand things is anything but an adequate explanation behind others to assume that they generally get things wrongâ€ â€œBehold the Lord our God has given us his brilliance and significance, and we have his voiceâ€¦ we have this day seen God talk with man still liveâ€ This was taken from the Old Testamentâ€™s book of Deuteronomy. Strict experience is anything but a contemporary supernatural occurrence yet one of incredible age, we as a whole have confidence in gravity yet this has just been obvious for a long time, yet something that has been around for millenniums is still addressed. These sightings of God have been persistent since early Christianity and Judaism before that. This isn't a contention about the undeniable nature of strict experience however essentially features the chance of encountering God and furthermore its significance in supporting the presence of God. This is the contention of John Baillie; he contended that strict experience isn't only defense for Godâ€™s presence however a definitive avocation. Doubters would answer how would you realize it is God? How would you realize you didn't just observe and elderly person with a whiskers? Except if you have seen God before you don't have the foggiest idea what he/she resembles. Some would contend that you need a concurred technique for recognizing God, on the off chance that no such strategy has been concurred, at that point you can't genuinely say you have seen God. Additionally in the event that God is otherworldly of people and outperforms them all around, at that point without a doubt we can't identify with him/her. We donâ€™t even know whether God is a physical element to be seen. Brian Davies reaction to the scepticâ€™s contention is in spite of not having a distinguishing proof strategy that is unimportant, something might be the situation despite the fact that it doesn't adjust to the testing technique, somebody can in any case be insightful in spite of getting a U in the entirety of their tests. A strict encounter can in any case be avocation for Godâ€™s presence in spite of not being fulfilling any from the earlier testing technique. John Hick introduced the contention that our translations of occasions all contrast. This excuses the doubters guarantee that there ought to be a type of testing strategy about supporting strict experience. An individual may profess to have seen God where as another would contend they have seen the demon, as both are putting together this involvement in respect to an individual from the earlier view of God/Devil it implies that if these foreordained observations are distinctive they are clearly going to oppose this idea. William James contended that strict experience is incredibly close to home along these lines it implies various things to various individuals. Richard Swinburne and William Alston set forward the contention from credulity. Swinburne contended that in the event that one has seen God one has adequate support to put stock in God. Except if there is something controlling this experience there is no motivation to question a strict encounter. Until your strict experience is disproven (through doubt of proof, for example, one was on drugs) at that point it can and ought to be utilized as legitimization for Godâ€™s presence. William Alston declared a comparable contention to Swinburneâ€™s contentions from credulity. He said â€œpeople now and again see God and in this manner gain legitimized convictions about Godâ€. He also accepted that strict experience can be utilized an avocation for Godâ€™s presence. He said avocation regarding God is â€œprima facieâ€ this implies one is defended in assuming except if there are sufficient motivations in actuality. Both contended the strict experience ought to be blameless until demonstrated blameworthy. A scepticâ€™s answer to Alston and Swinburne would be one ought to consistently question. Like referenced before one could be dependent upon visualization, we could be seeing God when he/she isn't generally there, you could be of all out sound psyche anyway you have an arbitrary mental trip because of water hardship meaning you â€œseeâ€ God. In what capacity can we really realize that our inner mind isn't vindictive composing distraught strict dreams? This is the reason the cynic would consistently contend that we should consistently be far fetched they contend that strict encounters are not obvious. Richard Swinburne proposed contentions from credulity as well as contentions from declaration. Swinburne expressed that except if you have adequate motivations to question somebody guarantee of strict experience you ought to think of it as obvious, if an individual states they have seen God you have and you have no explanation not to trust them you ought to think about their experience as evident. Brian Davies gives the case of a gathering of voyagers who see a feline in the Amazon rainforest; they return home and tell their traveler amigos they saw a feline in the Amazon rainforest. In the event that a second gathering of travelers go to the Amazon rainforest and don't see a feline, does that mean the principal bunch weren't right? Obviously not! Swinburne would contend you ought to accept the principal gathering of voyagers are there is no motivation to question their assertion. The scepticâ€™s answer would be the reason trust the travelers? There could be social/proficient weights meaning they lied about observing a feline since th

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bugaboowritings · 5 years

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How Animan Worked Out (With Masc!Mari) Fic

Nino has a fat man-crush on Mari.

Made it gay thanks to @knoxursoxoffpenwriter69.

At this point, I think I want to rewrite episodes with Masc!Mari. It’s a nice task and good exercise to make me more creative with set ending. Plus, it’s fun to put my own twist on things. Also I used ‘american’ terms for the school system since it’s easier to understand, but if you know what is what in french please do tell me.

Masc!Mari is an AU created by @daloochsdoodles.

“Sorry, Alya.” Mari grimaced, swinging his locker closed. “I have to babysit that day. Even if Manon gets picked up early, it takes me a good day to a week to bounce back.” Shivering as he thought about the glitter incident. A nightmare that he still can't forget.

Alya hummed in agreeance. “She’s truly a wild card." Pressing her lips together like she always did when she had a counter-argument. "Buuuuutttt- try having two Manon’s living with you 24/7.” Alya stomped her feet and made her best “baby-doll eyes” impression. “But Mari, pleaseeee! Hang out with your best friend before we become old and grey and regret missing out on the good old days.”

Mari gave her a blank stare. Informing her that she wasn’t winning this battle. Alya signed in defeat. “Okay, are you at least free to get lunch?”

“I can always open my schedule up for food.” He confessed. Making Alya roll her eyes and push him back playfully. Only to stop laughing when he missed his footing and tip back a little too far. Alya’s face suddenly switches from joy to pure horror. Happening all in slow-motion as Mari felt his soul leave his body. Prepared to feel his back land on the cold floor. Panicking, even more, the moment Mari felt someone’s shoulders with against his. Dragging an innocent soul to his clumsy doom.

“MARI! Oh my god!” Alya rushed to her knees picking up the papers that went flying up in the air as a loud smack hit the floor. Watching her best friend went on autopilot. Spitting out apologies like they were hot coal in his mouth. Mari’s face burned up with embarrassment.

“I’m so so so so sorry- I didn’t mean to. Gosh, my luck isn’t the best. I’m so sorry about this, here let me help you-” He stammered, quickly scooping up the loose-leaf paper on the floor.

“It’s fine. Really.” The other person mumbled, shoving everything in their backpack. Keeping his voice low to make less of a scene. “You don’t have to worry much, rea- Mars?”

Mari broke their neck at that. He hasn’t heard anyone call him “Mars” in some years. It was an old nickname that he picked up when he was a planet in a school play. Playing the planet “Mars” and singing a song about its carbon dioxide atmosphere. Cringing when he thought back at it. His performance was so memorable that his whole class started renamed him after his character.

“Uh- Nino?” Mari questioned back before getting a nod from him.

“Wow, Nino. It’s good to see you again!” Mari beamed. Standing up now to his full height. Looking back at Nino before handing off his work. “I haven’t seen you in like- forever.”

Nino admitted the same thing. Not helping himself as he gawked at Mari’s height. Normal reaction after meeting a friend that doubled in size since middle school.

“I’m sorry, again.” Mari shyly smiled, looking around for any more lost papers. Tensely itching the back of his neck.

“No! No-no problem.” Nino jumped. Hiding the red that appeared on his face with his cap. “We’ll all good, really dude.” Bring another sunny grin to Mari’s face.

Coughing to bring their attention to her. “Then that means you forgive us making you almost making you lose your report, Turtles, the Best Pal of The Sea,” Alya judged, raising her well-groomed brows at that title.

"If you're going to bullshit your essay, spice it up."

“Alya.” Mari shushed, receiving her “what” face. Shrugging off her friend's looks before handing it to Nino who said,

“It’s a report for Mr. Malume. He said to write an essay that 'fun or meaningfully'. I wrote it last minute and Noel had 'Finding Nemo' on repeat the whole day- yesterday so I guess that 'inspired' me.”

Alya couldn’t help the chuckle that came up from her throat. Mari snorted.

“Hope it goes well then.” Already turning around before saying, “I’m Alya by the way. Mari’s best friend.” She held out her hand for Nino to shake. “A.k.a. the editor of the Ladyblog and lover of muffins.” Ignoring Mari’s eye roll as she shameless plugged in her blog.

“Sorry to cut our time short, Nino, but I was promised lunch by a friend.” She hinted, motioning Mari to follow her lead.

“You know where the bakery is at right?” Mari asked. Letting Alya go-ahead to their usual spot.

“The best bakery in Paris?" Nino praised, slinking his bag around his shoulders. "Couldn’t forget it.”

“Great. Then you should totally come by.” Mari trailed off. Walking backward before shooting him a wink. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Leaving the DJ alone by his thoughts and shit essay as Mari caught up with Alya, who had a sudden craving for some fries.

----------

Sipping the last drop of her smoothie with her chewed straw, Alya finally asked the question that bubbled in her mind. "So Nino and you have a long history then?"

"We were friends back when we were like eight or twelve or something." Mari closed the white kitchen cabinet. Letting his hand rest on the handle as the other pulled out two bowls for their ice creams.

"God, it's been too long." He mumbled, tugging on his lip, in deep thought about the last time he had a proper conversation with Nino. Not noticing Alya sucking the air out of her cup like she was a fish out of water.

"I haven't spoken to him after I started my tr- actually that's a lie. We spoke at a school assembly! Granted it was a 'hello' and 'good-bye'. . ." Mari thought back to his old memories with Nino. They were the same classes for some years. Up until the beginning of high school is when they quit having lessons together.

"Ah," Alya hushed. "Tea?" She smirked.

"Shush Alya." Throwing a metal spoon he drew from the kitchen drawers. "Don’t make it seem like we ended on bad terms." Not stopping the reporter's stupid grin as she only giggled some more.

-------

The bakery’s bell jingled as Nino pushed opened the front door. The scent of baked goods calmed his nerves. Relieving him since the whole walk there was a hot mess. Nino tried prepping himself mentally to not freak out or mess up his words since he planned to hang out with Mari the whole day. SO he had to try his best to not become a total mess-

"Nino!" Mari greeted, looking up from the counter. Swiftly wiping his hands on his apron then sweeping back his messy hair.

OH NO, HE’S HOT!

I’m a total mess, Nino acknowledged as his palms grew sweaty.

"I didn't expect to see you.” Quickly adding, "-this early, I mean. Most people I know aren't really morning people." Mari explained, not noticing how Nino awkwardly smiled back. Fatigue seemed to trickle off Mari’s face once he saw his friend. Showing off a toothy grin.

Which made Nino crossed between relaxed and hella nervous (which should have to cancel out, but those two emotions just wrestled in the pit of his stomach) as Mari’s eyes stopped the words from coming out of Nino’s throat. Mari could bring anyone to ease with one of his smiles, but there was something about his eyes that made people sweat and burn. Nino's face composes a thin smile, nodding to whatever Mari was rambling on.

"-breakfast then. Right, Nino?"

"What?" Nino slapped himself mentally. Excusing himself and asking Mari to repeat himself. Already praying for an Akuma attack to save him from this moment.

"Do you want anything?" Mari nodded toward the pastries which were fresh from the oven. Still warm from toasting to a golden brown.

"It's my treat."

"I have to clean up before we can go out so you have something as you wait." Already pulling a clean plate by the counter. Motioning to the glass display between them for Nino to take a look.

Nino wanted to say that he didn't want anything, but his brain didn't like the idea that Mari could possibly take offense for denying a free pastry. Or then like him less. Which could make Mari not want to hang out or maybe even be his friend. Nino's adolescent mind could write novels using the outrageous scenarios it made up on the spot. It wasn't until he met Mari's eyes again. Which like a wave, brought him back to ease.

"The chocolate croissants are calling my name." He hummed. Causing Mari to chuckle.

Okay, maybe this isn't so bad, Nino thought. Returning Mari’s bright smile.

----

Mari slurped the last drop of his slushie. "How did you know about the panther? I came here like, not even last week and didn't even see ANY of this!" Throwing his hands up to motioning all the panther posters. Holding up his drink to prove his point. "They even had themed-food! Granted, it's just a different cup but still!!" Mari's enthusiasm gradually rubbed off to Nino, who couldn't help to laugh at Mari's reaction to everything. It was like watching a little kid gush about an amusement park. Making him feel like time hasn't passed between them. As if they were eleven again. Mari surely had that part down since he acted like it.

"Mari!"

Nino and Mari both turned to see two guys their age walking towards them. Turns out it's Max and Kim. Max waves as Kim raised his arm in salutation.

"Yo, Mari! Nino!"

"Hey, Kim, Max; what are you doing here?"

Kim gave a smug grin."We heard the new panther's here. I wanna see who's get the bigger guns!"

Kim shamelessly flexed his arms before getting a comical eye-roll from Max. Nino heard Mari whisper under his breath if he was the only one that didn't know about the panther. Not helping the chuckle that slipped his lips. Earning him a light elbow jag from Mari.

"Do you want to come with us?" Max promptly asked.

Nino stopped the panic from dripping into his words. "We were actually on our way to see it. . ." Nino trailed off. The whole point was to get close to Mari, not with the boys. Nino was already cooking up a plan to get out of this mess.

"Cool!" Kim grinned. "We can just head there together!" Throwing his arms over Nino and Mari, pulling them to the panther enclosure. All without a second thought.

--------

Otis, the panther's care keeper, slid a metal dish covered in raw meat at the foot of a tree. Watching the black feline gracefully leap down from its playground to this meal. Otis rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought before scribbling something down in his notes. Flipping thought them before marking some charts and - then messing up a whole page with his blue pen in shock. Scorning the source of the sound that spooked him and the panther. Not to his surprise, it was a child banging on the glass. However, not any child but a teen with nonsense for brains.

"Whoa! Look at the size of that piece of meat it's eating!"

"Kim, don't hit the glass like that!" Mari barked, bothered by his actions. Kim didn't budge from his spot as he gawked at the black cat. Nino watched Max suddenly type something in his phone before informing them more about the panther.

Dropping another fact, "It's a typical diet for this feline species since it requires the strength to run at speeds in excess of 60 miles per hour." Looking up from his screen to see the panther himself. Moving closer to the cage in awe. "So it needs quite the amount of calories."

Everyone nodding to that as they watched the wild animal rip up its lunch in smaller pieces. All as if it was an episode of Animal Planet in front of their eyes.

Of course, Kim had to ruin the tranquil moment.

"60 miles per hour? Is that all? I could have sworn panthers were much faster than that." Bending his legs in some simple stretches like the ones he did before a swim or a race.

"I bet that I could beat it in a race."

Squishing his face on the glass screen again. Cooing at the panther. "Hey, kitty, kitty. How about a little race with me, huh? Last one's a rotten egg!"

"Kim, calm down."

"Cocky, are we?"

"With a 6 feet-per-second wind behind you and 45 degrees to the north-east... I don't think you'd be a rotten egg. You'd be lunch."

"Not another challenge, please."

The group reasoned with Kim to stop provoking the animal. Which grew more aggravated every minute Kim stood there. Knocking it in his head that they WEREN'T here to do that. Not noticing the growing frown on the zoo keeper's face. Hushing curses as Otis jingled his keys to find the right one to the door.

"Kim, have some sense and leave the animal alone." Mari snapped. Flicking Kim's forehead. "You're making the panther growl and the zookeeper here is about to kick us out if you continue!"

Kim sighed, letting his shoulder slump down. "You guys are no fun." He huffed. Nodding his head towards another exhibit. Already leaving as he got his last remark in.

"Let's leave that poor widdle kitty alone with its babysitter!"

Followed by an ow as Mari kicked him.

-----

"Serious, you are no fun."

"Neither is this. Pass." Nino huffs. Dropping his outrageous dare before Kim could have the chance to change it.

"Rinnnngggg! There's the bell," Max held on to an imaginary microphone before commentating, "Nino has now lost his ability to reject this next truth or dare. If he still has the guts to say no then he gets the ultimate punishment. Care to explain it, Mr. Dupain Cheng?"

Mari held back their laughter. Holding on his own imaginary mic and his earpiece. Mustering up the best newscaster voice he had. "Thanks for that Mr. Kante. If Nino dares to reject this truth then he will have the chance to win a trip to clean Kim's gym locker for the next wee-"

"MARI!"

Confused to hear his name called out again, Mari turned around. Having the boys follow his actions until they came to view a pretty girl with glasses. Waving to Mari, who like a puppy-dog raced to her before excusing himself from his friends.

So long for alone time, Nino mumbled.

Kim, Max, and Nino watched as Mari hugged the girl. Both exchanging some words before the girl started to throw her hands around. They were a bit too far to hear what they were saying but by the looks, she had something important.

-----

"BIG! Not just the run of the mill story but it's BIGGER, Mari!" Alya exclaimed. Barely able to hold her excitement in. "The best part of it is that Nadja asked me directly! SHE WANTS ME on this STORY! She wanted ME to report on it!" Alya gushed, not believing that this isn't a dream, but reality!

"That's amazing!" Mari cheered. Feeling the high Alya was one as she screamed at him on how her dream was on the verge of coming true.

"RIGHT!" She huffed, throwing her hands around. Almost tossing up the bag she had in her hands. "I just knew that I had to tell you in person-Crappppppppppp." Losing her enthusiasm as she noticed the bag and the time on her watch.

"I have to go give my dad his lunch. I left the twins with Nora, so I have to split before things get out of control." Alya and Mari pulled each other in a hug before Alya dashed off to her father's office.

"I'll call you!" Mari yelled.

"Better." She replied. Not having to turn around for Mari to know that she still had her grin.

-----

"Seriously, dude." Nino groaned. "Mari doesn't have a girlfriend."

"Well, who was that chick then?" Kim pushed on. Poking Nino's shoulder before brushing him off. "Mari has been a loner for like -ever! Why is he covered with ladies, now!?"

"If any girl that Mari talks is his girlfriend, then he's married to all of Paris then!"

"That's Alya Cesaire," Max pulled up her Instagram. "She's the editor of the Ladyblog and is the new girl from our school. She recently moved for her father's new job and her mother works at Le Grand Paris. Not to mention her sister is notorious kickboxer here. Getting the best seats at every match she fights in."

Nino and Kim looked at Max with blank stares.

"What?"

"Max, how did you even-"

"She's tagged Mari in a lot of her pictures." He nonchalantly says. Before liking one of Alya's photographs. "Everything else is in her bio."

Before the boys could even say anything else, Mari came back running. Mumbling a 'sorry'. At that moment, Kim jumped the gun before Nino could try and shut him up.

"Dupain-Cheng," Kim smirked, wiggling his brows. "When were you going to tell us that you were off the market?" Slinking his arm around Mari's broad shoulders.

"What market?"

"Kim, just stop." Nino hissed now clearly annoyed. However, that made Kim more pushy the more he was told no.

"You know, the market." Wiggling his eyebrows more furiously. AS if that would help and make his point. Kim just looked like an idiot.

". . .What."

Max stepped in, "Kim thinks that Alya and you are an item." Double tapping on another picture.

Mari couldn't help but awkwardly laugh at that. "Bold of you to assume that I'm taken." Shrugging off Kim's arm. "Alya and I are just close friends."

With that Nino sighed a breath of relief. Mumbling a 'thank god', slumping down to a nearby bench. Quickly losing the color from his face once again. He didn't say that out loud, did he? Looking back to his friends who looked back at him with a perplexed expression. Kim then broke the silence with a loud gasp. Max looked up from his phone, connecting the dots in his head. Mari's face grew a big grin.

Plotting his hand by Nino's head, Mari leaned in. Watching as Nino's blush grew bright and bright. Mari's nose scrunched up, a cute quirk he had for years, something he did when he was examining something thoughtfully. Mari's dark eyes narrowed making Nino sweat bullets.

"Nino, oh my god!" Mari exclaimed. "You have a crush!"

At that point, Nino had two options. Confess to him or play dumb. However, his knowledge of romance from soap operas told him to shout:

Yes, I do Mari. It is you that I care for. I know we been through much and been away from each other for some years. However, that hasn't stopped the passion in my beating heart for you. You are still the Mari I know and care for. Please let's stay together as we developed our bromance. Let me be your rock. Let me be there when you have a rough day. Let me hug you and smell the flour and sugar on your sweatshirt after working a long day in the bakery. Dude, I would do it all for you. Just let me-

Nino decided to play dumb before his mouth spilled out a whole ballad.

"Whattttttttttt." Nino squawked. His voice was now higher than normal. "Whatchu mean?" Pulling his head back like a turtle going in his shell. "I don't have a crush on anyone."

"That's the biggest lie of the history of lies." Kim jumped. Swiftly pushing his way to Nino's face. "Luckily, we have a way to break liars here." He grinned.

"Nino Lahiffe, you own us a truth." Kim huffed. Crowded by three curious guys, Nino was in a position he wouldn't want anyone in. “Or you will be cleaning my gym locker after practice.”

Nino frowned at that. “Why is that even the punishment? Can’t you easily do that?”

“WE’RE ASKING THE QUESTIONS HERE!” Kim barked. Only to regain his stupid grin from before. Making the hair on Nino’s neck raise. He felt his weak knees buckling in place. His arms growing heavy as his stomach was rocked with his boundless anxiety. Mom's spaghetti

"Do you like Alya?"

what.

"What?"

"I mean the signs are all there. He got irritated whenever we were talking about Mari and Alya being a thing." Kim pressing the fingers in his hands as he went on. "He even told us to knock it off when we were thinking of ship names."

"Not to mention, he seemed pretty relieved to know that they were still single," Max noted, pushing up his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"Come on, guys," Nino reassured. Trying to play it cool. "You are just imagining things." Picking at his ear. Avoiding eye contact.

They were off by a mile, but they were getting too close for his liking.

"He's totally is crushing on her." Kim smiled all smugged. "The denial just proves it."

----------

Yeah, Lady Beetle knew it wasn't right, but he just couldn't help himself. He loved playing matchmaker and he felt like Andre, the Ice Cream Man, the moment he "protected" Nino and Alya from the Akuma attack by locking them together in the empty gorilla cage.

Ignoring Chat's stare as he evilly giggled to himself.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybuff #lady beetle #ladybeetle #masc!mari #masc!marinette #masc!mari au #my writing #my writings #ml au #au #miraculous the tales of ladybug and chat noir #Nino lahiffe #max kante #le chien kim #marinette dupain cheng #mari dupain cheng #rewrite

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mappingthemoon · 5 years

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A few weeks ago, I read A Room of One’s Own for the first time and got mad, madder perhaps than I might have gotten had I read this essay at a younger, more formative age. At 19 I identified so strongly with Nicole Kidman’s Virginia Woolf in The Hours that I cried in the movie theatre and left wanting to absorb everything she’d ever written, but also at 19 I didn’t have the patience to slog through what I thought was an excruciatingly slow-paced, practically ancient body of work. If I’d read A Room of One’s Own at 19, it might have filled me with a certain hope that ~someday~, at some vague point in the future when I had my adult life sorted out in the artful & adventurous direction I seemed destined to head, I would surely be in a position to have a steady income and a room – no, a house even, where I could comfortably write whenever the inspiration struck. At 19 I worked two jobs, struggling to make rent & subsisting on box mac n cheese, occasionally sinking into melodramatic existential horrors when I felt like All I Ever Do Is Work – but at 19, I thought, I knew, it wouldn’t, it couldn’t stay like this forever. I didn’t think I was being too unrealistic. It’s not like I was banking on winning the lottery or getting Discovered for my art and never having to work again. I just thought that I would eventually find a job that didn’t totally suck and by maintaining a frugal lifestyle I’d be able to allocate a good part of my time to the things I was really passionate about: writing zines, taking photographs, screen printing, travelling…

Reading A Room of One’s Own at 35, I am mad and hopeless, looking back upon 20 years of low-paid drudgery and mounting debts, all the exhaustion catching up at once & no longer having the energy of a 19-year-old to run all over town via public transit to multiple jobs and classes and coffeeshops, squeezing in a sentence here or there whenever I had a free moment to put words on paper. At 35 weeks pass without writing. Sometimes notes will accumulate in piles of paper scraps or gmail drafts, notes to remind myself of the fleeting thoughts and feelings I wanted to write about later, when I’d have time; and sometimes so much time would pass that I’d forget what I even meant in the note, or I’d decide it wasn’t all that important after all, and I’d throw it away. I’m pretty sure I’ve already complained about that here.

I know I complain about this all the time. And I always feel guilty – the bullshit puritanical work ethic/positive mental attitude industrial complex still nags at the back of my brain, TRY HARDER! STOP WHINING! But I wake up at 7:30 in the morning for my first job (full-time library tech parapro) and don’t get back home until almost 7:00 in the evening; then I do my second job (part-time freelance transcriptionist) from 8:00 or 9:00 until 12:00 or 1:00. Nearly 30% of my income goes to debt. Not counting the mortgage. This (I guuuess) is penance for the decade or so I spent in poverty in my 20s, working two or three jobs for about 7,000 a year while supporting an unemployed alcoholic for much of that time, depending on student loans and high-interest credit cards to cover rent and groceries. I finally got a “real” job at 30 and have been playing catch-up ever since. And at 35, it’s not easy to feel so certain that surely, this won’t last forever. At 35, I think, realistically, this could actually just be all there is. At 35 I can feel myself slipping apathetically into the kind of boring hopeless cynicism 19-year-old me despised. 19-year-old me had no idea it could be this easy to get beaten down into a bare-minimum lifestyle practically devoid of creative thought. Working at menial bullshit all the time makes me feel like I’m getting stupider. I guess the weed doesn’t help either but rn I’d rather have poor short-term memory than crushing depression so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This entry is cobbled together from a few drafts and notes and today I allowed myself the time to compose something with complete sentences because I took the entire day off work in preparation for Thanksgiving travel, and this is the first time in five years of having a job with a PTO benefit that I have not felt one iota of guilt for taking a day off “just because” aka to preserve my sanity.

I started collecting all of my scattered bits and pieces for the next zine and transferring the ideas onto notecards. I had felt overwhelmed and repelled by the mess of seemingly-unrelated ideas I have been simmering for, well, years now; I didn’t know where to start and I wondered if it was time to throw it out and start over, or throw it out and start saying “oh yeah, I used to do zines.” The notecard idea, literally creative writing 101, hit me like a religious epiphany and now I’m having grand plans of taking my stack of cards as my road trip project, outlining my next ~masterwork~ in a series of Motels 6 from Georgia to Pennsylvania and back. It’s exciting, and it’s part of the work, but it’s still not writing writing. I told Peter I was still having the feeling of not having written in so long that I was afraid I’d forgotten how, or maybe I’m just done being a writer now. I thought he would commiserate as a fellow writer but surprisingly he said, this could be a good thing. If you’ve forgotten how to write, then every time is new. You’re not relying on the same old devices if you have to relearn how to write each time. This is a bit brilliant, tbh. I am extremely dependent on my past successes (i.e. actually completed pieces) & worried that I’ll never live up to them, so: fuck that. I won’t. I am never going to write like I did in 2014, or 2007, or 2004, or 1998, or any other time I felt like I was on the same wild creative wavelength as the universe, maaan. I’ll write like I do in 2019, and onward.

“But maintenance and care are necessary—without rest we cannot regenerate. These days I’ve come to believe that it’s natural for many of us to go through periods when we put words to the page and times when we can’t. These aren’t separate, distinct states; rather than agonizing over ‘writer’s block,’ maybe we can accept that we aren’t blocked at all, and that resting might just be part of our process.” —Kate Angus, “Maybe the Secret to Writing is Not Writing?”

#personal #writing #work #capitalism #complaint department #virginia woolf #kate angus #quote #writers #end of history illusion

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fuckthe10essays · 4 years

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Jealousy, imposed on a man of openness and trust, is a central theme in Othello.

The above statement is nothing but true, jealousy is most certainly a central theme in Othello, and while it does sits amongst the other themes which this play is based around, revenge, insecurity, racism, manipulation. Jealousy is perhaps the most central, most affecting theme in this play. No other theme has the same affect or result as jealousy does in terms of the consequences when it comes to some characters. In this essay I will explore just how much of an effect jealousy has had on certain characters, all open and trusting in some way or another.

A man suffering greatly from jealousy, from as early as the beginning of the play is Desdemona’s father Brabantio. In his eyes he has been betrayed by his daughter and he’s not afraid to show it. Brabantio is, at his core, jealous of Othello and his taking of his daughter. To Brabantio, Desdemona has chosen Othello, this black non-venetian war general who Brabantio himself let into their home, over her own father. It is this betrayal of the highest order in his eyes that leads to him disowning Desdemona in a fit of rage. ‘I had rather adopt a child then get it.’ Not only has his only daughter left him for a black man she also did it in front of the Duke of Venice and all of the senators. She embarrassed him, a well-respected Venetian nobleman, in front of the Duke of Venice and all his colleagues by publicly choosing Othello over her father ‘I am hitherto your daughter but here’s my husband.’ It’s the jealousy of Othello and how he swiped up his daughter that makes Brabantio pull a move he doesn't live long enough to regret. He says to Othello ‘She hath betrayed her father, and my thee.’ Depositing the first seeds of doubt in Othello’s mind of Desdemona’s infidelity. This crucial move has a butterfly effect on all of the characters in this play, least of all his daughter. This shows us the crippling effect can have and why it is a central theme in Othello.

To continue on with Brabantio with the question of ‘A man of openness and trust’ he most certainly is. We can clearly see this by how he regularly invited Othello into his home to regal him with stories of war. ‘Her father loved he, often invited me.’ This is how he and Desdemona met, she fell in love with his war stories ‘She loved me for the dangers I had passed.’ We can see from this willingness to invite a black stranger into his home that he’s open but also trusting in how many times he let Othello back in. Which is why the betrayal he suffered in the council chambers by his daughter had such negative effects throughout the play. His trust has been taken and stamped on by Othello and Desdemona’s elopement. His only daughter has left him for a black man. Brabantio can make no sense of this, instead choosing to accuse Othello of using witchcraft to entice his daughter into a relationship. ‘I therefore vouch again that with some mixtures powerful o’er the blood or with some dram conjured to this effect he wrought upon her.’ He can make no sense of why Desdemona would leave him willingly. Which is why when Desdemona confesses her love for Othello in front of the Duke and Brabantio that his reaction is so volatile. This once open and trusting man’s only daughter has left him for a black man he trusted to let into his house. He disowns her and warns Othello of her further unfaithfulness. This will have dire consequences later on but for now it was just the explosive reaction of a man cheated, who could not see himself just how bad things could end up.

Rodrigo is a pitiful character and not in the least due to his raging jealousy of Desdemona and Othello. He is entirely in love with Desdemona, so much that Iago convinces him to travel to Cyprus where he will surely win her over. Iago convinces him to bring all of his money and Rodrigo says he will sell of his lands. This is how committed he is to Desdemona and it shows us the lengths he is willing go to for a chance with her. ‘Put money in thy purse, follow these wars, it cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her love to the moor.’ Iago manipulates Rodrigo’s jealousy of Desdemona and Othello and uses him to fund his schemes. Rodrigo wholeheartedly believes that he has a chance with Desdemona and there is no obstacle that would deter him. It is a combination of this zeal, his jealousy and a general lack of full mental capabilities that result in his untimely end and eventual betrayal by Iago.

Iago is able to so easily manipulate Rodrigo and his love for Desdemona because of how easily trusting Rodrigo is. Rodrigo has no qualms with telling of his fervent love for Desdemona and just how far he would be willing to go for her. He trusts Iago wholeheartedly with his money and in his ability to set him and Desdemona up. Iago convinces him that there’s no way that Desdemona could continue to love Othello and that sooner or later she would become bored and seek Rodrigo out. This is why Rodrigo is so open and trusting in regard to Iago. But even Rodrigo cannot be fooled forever, and he does eventually stand up for himself and accuse Iago of lying to him. ‘I have heard too much for your words and performances are no kin together.’ However, this coup doesn’t last long, and he is soon back into Iago’s arms and promising to murder someone for him. Rodrigo is so jealous that he would allow himself to be fooled and cheated on by Iago because any hope, even false hope is better than nothing. It is this trust that he is so willing to give that damns Rodrigo and enables Iago to easily use him for his own means.

As the old adage goes ‘Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned.’ but have you ever met a man? Othello would be a wonderful example of this had he actually been scorned, but he does a great job of appearing so. Othello is jealous to the point where he allows himself to believe that he’s being cheated on by Desdemona without shred of actual evidence. He lets Iago’s insinuations convince him of an infidelity that does not exist. Othello’s jealousy of Cassio and Desdemona’s non-existent relationship only began after Iago suggested it ‘I like not that.’ His jealousy then proceeded to change Othello entirely from the stately calm and competent man in the beginning of the play to the raging shell of man so convinced that he’s being wronged that even when his wife denies that she’s been cheating on him he refused to believe her. Jealousy has utterly changed Othello, this false on especially leads to him murdering his wife and then committing suicide after he finds out she was actually faithful to him. This once collected and composed man who defended his love for Desdemona in front of the Duke of Venice and her father now lies on a death bed surrounded by two other bodies, one of which he is responsible for. This is what jealousy did to Othello, false or not, the consequences of it can be appalling.

Othello, and the way he trusts people, is greatly changed in regards to Iago from the first half of the play to the second. In the beginning Othello puts his full trust in Iago to being Desdemona, his new wife, safely across the sea to Cyprus. ‘My ancient a man he is of honesty and trust, to his conveyance I assign my wife.’ He believes Iago to be honest and we can clearly see how much he trusts him. But Othello’s trust in Iago at the start is so sharply contrasted with how he trusts him near the end it’s almost hard to believe that it’s the same person. From trusting Iago to bring his wife safely to him in Cyprus, Othello now trusts Iago to murder his wife’s alleged secret lover, Cassio. His trust is heightened but also broadened. It has gone from just entrusting her life to him but now he is entrusting her death to him as well. Othello even allows Iago to suggest how he should kill Desdemona ‘Do not do it with poison, strangle her in her bed.’ Their relationship has changed entirely from Ancient and general to equals in the field of murder. Othello’s willingness to trust in the beginning, born of his openness of character, has allowed Iago to wiggle his way in and now they’re planning a double murder. This contrast allows us to see the effect Iago can have to man of undisputed openness and trust such as Othello.

In conclusion jealous is of course a central theme in this play. It is tied with Iago for being the main catalyst of which everything else happens. The effect that jealousy can have, even on men of openness and trust, is extremely prevalent in this play and we can see just how deep the consequences of letting yourself be overcome with it can have.

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daddysangel96 · 8 years

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Love is an Accident

Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at fanfiction! I’m really excited to share this story with yall and hope you enjoy it too! I have plans to make it a multi fic chapter but we will see where that goes later. For now I simply hope you enjoy my first story. ***Disclaimer I don’t own the characters or the story and right are reserved for the original creator*** Not yet rate but this chapter is SFW

The accident wasn’t her fault. I mean what sane person starts a fight in a coffee house! She had originally come to the coffee house a block from her home in order to get some fresh air, and hopefully some fresh ideas for her creative writing project that was due in a few days. However, it looked like she needed a new outfit and a new writing journal. She looked up from her coffee stain clothes to see a man with pink her bolt away from her table and head right back to the dark haired man that she supposed had pushed him causing this mess.

“Gray what the hell man!” The pink haired man exclaimed as he walked back over to the guy she presumed was Gray.

“Hey it’s not my fault your pansy ass couldn’t handle a little shove.” Gray said with a smirk as he began to unbutton his dark blue shirt. “Besides you’re the one who started this flame brain!”

“Oh?” The pink haired one questioned,”and how is that Ice princess? ‘Cause from where I’m standing you’re the one who pushed me across the coffee house for no reason!”

“You both need to shut up and stop making a scene or I will have to teach you a lesson in manners AGAIN!” A very intimidating woman said coming between the two fighting men. Her hands on her hips as she looked at them with disapproval in her eyes. “Now apologize to each other so I can get back to ordering my coffee in peace!”

The two men backed away from each other faces pointed in opposite directions as they each mumbled half assed “Sorries” to the wind. But that seemed to placate the fierce red-head and she went back to perusing the menu.

Lucy looked away from the group now that the commotion had settled and began to inspect the damage the pink haired man had caused to her and her belongings. Her journal was soaked in coffee and was more than likely ruined. Great, now how am I supposed to remember the writing prompts in time. I guess I could call Levy and see if she could help me out. Lucy thought to herself as she went back to assessing the damage done. Her shirt was stained all the way down the front and there was a decent amount soaking into her shorts as well. Well at least I had decided to go with an iced coffee today instead of my regular Hot Cocoa. She grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser on the table and tried to mop up the mess the pink haired guy had made when she noticed another set of hands mopping up spilled coffee.

“Sorry about that, didn’t mean to go flying into your table and make a mess.” The pink haired guy stated with an apologetic look. “The names Natsu by the way.”

“Lucy,” she stated simply and went back to cleaning up before taking the soaked napkins from the table and walking them over to the nearest trash can.

“If you want I could buy you another to replace the one I spilled?” Natsu said when she returned to her table.

Lucy looked at him in bewilderment before packing up her things and saying, “Thanks, but I think I’m kinda good on coffee right now. I just want to go home and get out of these clothes.” She put her bag on her shoulder and started to head for the door when he called out, “Well then let me buy you dinner, Ya know to makeup for it.”

She turned around and saw the man blushing like crazy after blurting out something like that in such a crowded coffee house. Lucy started to blush fiercely herself but walked back to Natsu and held her hand out.

He looked down at her open palm and back up at her a question in his eyes, head tilting a little to the side until she finally sputtered out, “Well give me your phone so I can give you my number. How else are you going to get in touch with me before our date?”

His eyes widened as it sunk in what she was saying and he fumbled around his pockets for his phone before he finally pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over to her. She took it from him and typed in her number before giving it back to him. “There,” she said, “text me when you want to go out.” She turned away from him and walked back to her apartment mentally screaming at herself for giving the crazy guy at the coffee house her phone number so easily. What was she thinking!

Once home she climbed up the 2 flights of stairs until she got to her floor and walked down the hallway to her apartment she shared with 2 other girls. Cana her best friend from highschool and now into college and Levy, a girl she met in a language course a few semesters back and hit it off with instantly. Cana was sitting on the couch drinking wine when Lucy walked in the door and gave her roommate a long stare before shrugging it off and taking a swig from her wine bottle.

“So what happened to you?” The brunette questioned as lucy crossed through the living room to her door and threw her things inside. “It’s a long story and I really feel like I could use a shower can I just tell you when I get out?” Lucy sighed as she leaned out of her door frame eyes pleading for her roommate to let her have 5 mins to compose herself. “Fine, but I want all the weird details when your done.” Cana simply stated before going back to watching the mindless daytime talk show she had on and taking another swig from her wine bottle. Why the woman couldn’t use a glass or wait till after noon to drink was beyond her but ever since she was 16 and had found her father’s alcohol stash in the den it has been nearly impossible to find Cana without booze.

Lucy walked into her private bathroom and turned the water on in her shower before stripping out of her sticky coffee stained clothing, bummer it took me forever to pick that outfit out this morning. I really hope it doesn’t stain. Once the water was warm enough she slipped in and rinsed off the sticky feeling and smell of coffee till she felt fresh and clean and smelled like vanilla and strawberries again. Once done she shut the water off and stepped out of her shower grabbing a big fluffy white towel and drying off before wrapping it around herself and heading back into her room.

Something she will always be grateful for is that this apartment she shared with her two best friends each had a separate private bathroom and closets. When the three of them had first started looking for an apartment together they quickly discovered that finding a 3 bed/3 bath apartment in their price range close to campus in Magnolia was next to impossible. When out of the blue Lucy found this hidden gem a Block and a half from campus, shopping, and great restaurants and nightlife. It felt like they had hit the motherload it seemed to good to be true! When they did the initial walk through and saw it was a cozy modern rustic styled house that fit with the feel of Magnolia and home, AND had personal space for all three girls and tons of entertaining space too, they didn’t even have to hesitate when asked if they were interested in the apartment.

One year later and they still loved their place and had no regrets what so ever about moving in together it’s been great like one big sleep over. The girls help lucy with her writer's blocks and she gives them advice on their essays for class. Levy makes sure they eat everyday and they help her remember to eat and sleep when she does marathon research at the library, and Cana knows how to loosen everyone up and have a good time and they keep her from going home with strange people when she is too plastered to remember what happened the next morning. It’s a balance and the best roommate situation she could have hopped for in college.

She pulled out her comfiest panties and then put her sleeping boxer shorts on over them and an oversized black T-Shirt that had the words ‘Exercise? I Thought You Said Extra Fries!’ with a cartoon image of french fries on the front. Once dressed she walked out to the living room and plopped down on the couch next to Cana who was still nursing on her bottle of wine though was now watching a show called “Bar Rescue” on Spike.

“Sooooo,” Her friend drew out the word clearly letting Lucy know she hadn’t forgotten about her coming home covered in coffee.

“So I need to buy a new Writing journal and I think I have a date.” Lucy said as nonchalantly as possible knowing what was about to happen next.

“YOU GOT A DATE!!” Cana yelled excitedly turning to face Lucy and settling in for the full story and expecting to get all the details.

“Well I said I think I have a date. I’m not to sure if it’s actually going to happen or not.” Lucy said with a shrug. “This guy ran into my table during a fight he was having with some guy he knew and it caused my iced coffee to spill all over me and my stuff. He originally only asked to buy me another coffee to replace the one he spilled, but I turned him down so I could leave and go home. When I was headed for the door he just blurted out ‘well then let me buy you dinner’.” Lucy explain clearly torn between laughing at how ridiculous this whole thing sounded and wondering if he really meant it when he asked her out.

“Well what did you say back to him?” Cana questioned her taking another sip from her wine bottle before offering some to Lucy who just shook her head.

“Well I went back to him and asked for his phone so i could give him my number and then left.”she simply stated.

“So what you’re telling me is that you gave this random dude who spilled coffee on you and your stuff your number and have no idea if he is actually gunna call or text you to ask you out?” Canna said with amusement clear in her eyes, her smirk slowly getting bigger the longer she thought about it before she finally burst out laughing.

“Well when you put it like that,” Lucy said ducking her head down feeling silly over it all. I mean why did she think that this guy would actually want to go out with her. They hardly said two words together and he ran into her table during a fight for crying out loud! He was only offering to be nice, yea that must have been it. There is absolutely no reason to think he rea-

Her train of thought halted when she heard her phone chime letting her know she had a new text come in. Glancing over at her purse she eyed Cana before sprinting for her bag, but she was too slow. Cana got there first and opened up the new message from an unknown number.

“It just says ‘Hi��”. her friend looked down at her phone screen with disappointment before tossing it over to Lucy. “Bummer, I was hoping he would be more creative with his first text after how ya’ll first met and all.” She sauntered back over to the couch bottle in hand before falling back into it and watching as the bartender taught the current workers a new mixed drink with a lot of colorful liquors in it.

Lucy stared down at her phone screen and the innocent lone text message that she now had to reply to. Finally, she decided to respond with a simple ‘hi’ back.

A few moments later her phone chimed again from the same number saying,

This is Natsu by the way...just in case you didn’t know.

I kinda figured that it was you but nice to be sure all the same. Whats up? She sent back.

Well i’m still at the coffee shop thinking about how you probably think I’m crazy..but I swear I’m not no matter what that popsicle breath thinks!

Well that’s good to know

So do you wanna go grab a bite to eat tonight? I know a great bar downtown that has a killer burger?

She stared at her phone for a second, debating on what to say. Did she really want to go out with a guy who picked a fight in a coffee shop? He didn’t really give off the creepy guy vibes, and she tended to be a pretty good judge of character when it comes to sleazy guys. So she responded with, Sure, Why not. What time do you want to meet up?

It takes him a full minute longer than his other text to respond but when he does it’s just a simple, 8pm the bar is called Fairy Tail, it’s on Main street.

She looks over to Cana and asks, “Hey do you know anything about a place called Fairy Tail on Main street?”

“Yeah they have some killer margaritas there. Why wana go?”

#firstfic loveisanaccident nalu #fairy tail #hope this is okay

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sillyanimegamingroad · 4 years

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Essay written by AI

Do you like to read an essay written by AI then you are at right place. An article in Substack discusses the possible social and psychological consequences of immortality; the surprise is that the text has been written by an artificial intelligence without help or corrections.

OpenAI is a private research center in San Francisco, California whose stated mission is to ensure that “artificial intelligence benefits all of humanity. Aware of the risks that the use of highly advanced artificial intelligence systems could have if monopolized by companies or governments, OpenAI makes these systems available to everyone.

One of the OpenAI projects is called GPT-3 — OpenAI, and it is a natural language engine in English. You can ask questions and respond appropriately, looking for the information you need on the Internet.

The author of the Perceptions newsletter provided a simple introduction to the system so that from there he began to compose the text:

“What follows is an essay on immortality and its consequences on human society. Much of our world is based on the fact that one day we are going to die. What if one day, suddenly, we couldn’t die? What would change? These are the questions that Balaji Srinivasan tries to answer in this essay. Here is the essay written by AI.

Immortality and Its Consequences

Biotechnology and nanotechnology have great potential to disrupt all man-made systems we have today, including death. Below is a game-like example of how immortality would completely change the structure of society, an example so simple it may sound silly, but it clearly illuminates the principles.

Imagine that a pill has been discovered that can make you live forever, in perfect health, without aging. How would that pill change society?

Consider the different types of postures available to humans in our society.

Some are valued for the intrinsic reward. If the pill works, you could spend a lifetime collecting pictures, for example, and you’ll have all the time in the world to do it. That is the way to “enjoy your passions,” and there is no point in using money as a measure here. As time becomes effectively infinite, all previous time-based calculations, such as interest and wages, lose their meaning. And you don’t have to worry about running out of resources: if people care about paintings, you can clone yourself a few million times, paint a bunch of paintings, and then rent your clones as painters.

There is also a path to “work hard and climb the corporate ladder” where people compete to rise to the top of hierarchical organizations. What kind of corporate hierarchy would make sense in the world of immortality? One that is much more merit-based and more egalitarian than any we’ve seen so far. The fact that you live forever can make social status much less important. In this type of world, education would be open and free. A child born with an incredible natural talent could outperform any adult, just as a child born with a disability might need extra help. Hierarchies that are based more on merit could offer more autonomy to those at the top. They would have a higher rate of professional satisfaction compared to professional boredom. They could be in charge of their own wages.

Those who choose this path would have tremendous motivation to work hard and learn new skills, just to keep up with changing times.

There is also a third type of path: a path that leads to assuming power and controlling others. Again, this path would probably be less attractive in a society with immortality. You would still have resources, but there would be no point in following this path in the same way.

In a world without death, competition would be based on speed of execution. For example, if someone invents a cure for cancer, we could run to raise the money to mass-produce it. This would likely create a new type of “go go go” society, with no time for politics or outdated methods of persuasion, and more hierarchies based on merit.

An immortality pill would render most “job” jobs obsolete. The remaining “job” jobs will be less merit-based and will be things like the government jobs that exist today, a few types of hard-to-automate professions (like surgeons), and rare jobs like the pest exterminator job. . In a society where work could be effectively taken over by AIs, the government would probably have less power, but there would still need to be government institutions to prevent abuse, or else what incentive would someone have to take the pill? ?

How could markets change in a society with immortality? If markets are to continue to exist, in an eternity in which money has lost all meaning, they will likely have to change their approach to maintain any utility. One could imagine a scenario where there is a limit to the amount of wealth one can have in this society. There is also likely to be a zero interest rate, because time becomes effectively infinite. In this scenario, one could imagine a model where if you invent a new technology that is considered an existential risk (for example, AI), it might be necessary to pay some kind of fee to protect yourself from that risk.

Let’s consider an existing form of market that could become extremely relevant in a society with immortality: the marriage market. It is likely to become much more important since status is no longer something that can be achieved by earning a lot of money. In fact, a successful husband would be someone who can support the woman of her dreams in a world where there are effectively no resource constraints.

There are also a number of political implications. In particular, a society with a large fraction of people taking the pill would create a large constituency for pro-rejuvenation policies, including anti-aging research, health care, and even extra spending on curing congenital disabilities.

What about the problem of free will? Isn’t this drug effectively slavery? If people cannot die, they cannot withdraw from a life they no longer want to lead. In fact, some people who take the pill may continue to do so out of pure sense of duty or inertia. Without death, they will no longer have the escape offered by dying. In this sense, immortality is much more insidious than slavery, which at least allows the slave to escape. If there is no way for someone to escape from a situation that they no longer consider desirable, the power dynamic between them and the world around them can become very unbalanced.

Imagine the position of someone who is dissatisfied with their life in a world where they cannot die. If you cannot die, there is no escape. In a way, the only option is to remove your thoughts from your current world. And the only way to do it is through mental states like meditation or psychedelics. If you want to get out of the world of work, instead of burning yourself, maybe you could turn to recreational drugs. But that could carry its own problems, because some of these drugs have side effects, and even cause death. The arrival of an immortality pill would also have far-reaching implications for human society. How might our current definition of “human” change? Our concept of human is that of a fragile bag of water, a machine that takes food and turns it into fuel. How many people want to stay in that fragile machine state indefinitely?

Wouldn’t they rather become cyborgs, or AI? In an immortality society, there is no need for those types of machines, and everyone will choose to become a different type of machine, a stronger type. People could choose to merge with their computers and remove their biological brains, because biological brains will be meaningless. This would change the meaning of life, and change humanity in ways that we cannot predict. Even now, some people are in a hurry to “become trans human” through technologies such as consciousness unloading and nootropics. An immortality pill would make that choice much easier. If we had an immortality pill, a true cyborgs immortal world would be just a matter of time. In short, if there is an immortality pill, there are likely to be fewer jobs, more competition on the market, faster change in corporate hierarchy, a new type of merit-based society, the advent of a new type of go-go-go society, a new type of marriage market, and a much larger electorate pushing for a rejuvenation pill. All of these changes would likely be accompanied by a sense of wonder and admiration as the world continues to change.

If you are young, it is important to understand these changes to prepare yourself. As things stand, we are not prepared for the world we live in, and you may find yourself trapped in a suboptimal position. However, if you have a good plan of where the world is headed, you can plan ahead for that future. For example, a high IQ would be very valuable in a society of immortality.

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elisaenglish · 4 years

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A Lifeline for the Hour of Despair: James Baldwin on 4AM, the Fulcrum of Love, and Life as a Moral Obligation to the Universe

“I have always felt that a human being could only be saved by another human being. I am aware that we do not save each other very often. But I am also aware that we save each other some of the time.”

“Yesterday has already vanished among the shadows of the past; to-morrow has not yet emerged from the future. You have found an intermediate space,” Nathaniel Hawthorne wrote of life’s most haunting hour. But what we find in that intermediate space between past and future, between the costumed simulacrum of reality we so painstakingly construct with our waking lives and reality laid bare in the naked nocturnal mind, is not always a resting place of ease — for there dwells the self at its most elemental, which means the self most lucidly awake to its foibles and its finitude.

The disquietude this haunted hour can bring, and does bring, is what another titanic writer and rare seer into the depths of the human spirit — James Baldwin (August 2, 1924–December 1, 1987) — explored 130 years after Hawthorne in one of his least known, most insightful, and most personal essays.

In 1964, as the Harlem riots were shaking the foundation of society and selfhood, Baldwin joined talent-forces with the great photographer Richard Avedon — an old high school friend of his — to hold up an uncommonly revelatory cultural mirror with the book Nothing Personal (public library). Punctuating Avedon’s signature black-and-white portraits — of Nobel laureates and Hollywood celebrities, of the age- and ache-etched face of an elder born under slavery and the idealism-lit young faces of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in Georgia, of the mentally ill perishing in asylums and the newlyweds at City Hall ablaze with hope — are four stirring essays by Baldwin, the first of which gave us his famous sobering observation that “it has always been much easier (because it has always seemed much safer) to give a name to the evil without than to locate the terror within.”

At no time does the terror within, Baldwin argues in the third essay, bubble to the surface of our being more ferociously than in that haunting hour between past and future, between our illusions of permanence and perfection, and the glaring fact of our finitude and our fallibility, between being and non-being. He writes:

“Four AM can be a devastating hour. The day, no matter what kind of day it was is indisputably over; almost instantaneously, a new day begins: and how will one bear it? Probably no better than one bore the day that is ending, possibly not as well. Moreover, a day is coming one will not recall, the last day of one’s life, and on that day one will oneself become as irrecoverable as all the days that have passed.

It is a fearful speculation — or, rather, a fearful knowledge — that, one day one’s eyes will no longer look out on the world. One will no longer be present at the universal morning roll call. The light will rise for others, but not for you.”

Half a century before the physicist Brian Greene examined how this very awareness is the wellspring of meaning to our ephemeral lives, Baldwin adds:

“Sometimes, at four AM, this knowledge is almost enough to force a reconciliation between oneself and all one’s pain and error. Since, anyway, it will end one day, why not try it — life — one more time?”

After singing some beautiful and heartbreaking Bessie Smith lyrics into his essay — lyrics from “Long Road,” a song about reconciling the knowledge that one is ultimately alone with the irrepressible impulse to reach out for love, “to grasp again, with fearful hope, the unwilling, unloving human hand” — Baldwin continues:

“I think all of our voyages drive us there; for I have always felt that a human being could only be saved by another human being. I am aware that we do not save each other very often. But I am also aware that we save each other some of the time.”

That alone, Baldwin insists, is reason enough to be, as Nietzsche put it, a “yea-sayer” to life — to face the uncertainty of our lives with courage, to face the fact of our mortality with courage, and to fill this blink of existence bookended by nothingness with the courage of a bellowing aliveness.

In a passage that calls to mind Galway Kinnell’s lifeline of a poem “Wait,” composed for a young friend on the brink of suicide, Baldwin writes:

“For, perhaps — perhaps — between now and the last day, something wonderful will happen, a miracle, a miracle of coherence and release. And the miracle on which one’s unsteady attention is focused is always the same, however it may be stated, or however it may remain unstated. It is the miracle of love, love strong enough to guide or drive one into the great estate of maturity, or, to put it another way, into the apprehension and acceptance of one’s own identity. For some deep and ineradicable instinct — I believe — causes us to know that it is only this passionate achievement which can outlast death, which can cause life to spring from death.”

And yet, so often, we lose faith in this miracle, lose the perspective we call faith — so often it slips between the fingers fanned with despair or squeezes through the fist clenched with rage. We lose perspective most often, Baldwin argues, at four AM:

“At four AM, when one feels that one has probably become simply incapable of supporting this miracle, with all one’s wounds awake and throbbing, and all one’s ghastly inadequacy staring and shouting from the walls and the floor — the entire universe having shrunk to the prison of the self — death glows like the only light on a high, dark, mountain road, where one has, forever and forever! lost one’s way. — And many of us perish then.”

What then? A generation after Little Prince author Antoine de Saint-Exupéry composed his beautiful manifesto for night as an existential clarifying force for the deepest truths of the heart, Baldwin offers:

“But if one can reach back, reach down — into oneself, into one’s life — and find there some witness, however unexpected or ambivalent, to one’s reality, one will be enabled, though perhaps not very spiritedly, to face another day… What one must be enabled to recognise, at four o’clock in the morning, is that one has no right, at least not for reasons of private anguish, to take one’s life. All lives are connected to other lives and when one man goes, much more goes than the man goes with him. One has to look on oneself as the custodian of a quantity and a quality — oneself — which is absolutely unique in the world because it has never been here before and will never be here again.”

Baldwin — whom U.S. Poet Laureate Gwendolyn Brooks described as “love personified” in introducing his last public appearance before his death — wedges into this foundational structure of soul-survival the fact that in a culture of habitual separation and institutionalised otherness, such self-regard is immensely difficult. And yet, he insists with the passion of one who has proven the truth of his words with his own life, we must try — we must reach across the divides within and without, across the abysses of terror and suspicion, with a generous and largehearted trust in one another, which is at bottom trust in ourselves.

Echoing his contemporary and kindred visionary Leonard Bernstein’s insistence that “we must believe, without fear, in people,” Baldwin adds what has become, or must become, the most sonorous psychosocial refrain bridging his time and ours:

“Where all human connections are distrusted, the human being is very quickly lost.”

More than half a century later, Nothing Personal remains a masterwork of rare insight into and consolation for the most elemental aches of the human spirit. For a counterpoint to this nocturnal fragment, savour the great nature writer Henry Beston, writing a generation before Baldwin, on how the beauty of night nourishes the human spirit, then revisit Baldwin on resisting the mindless of majority, how he learned to truly see, the writer’s responsibility in a divided society, his advice on writing, his historic conversation with Margaret Mead about forgiveness and responsibility, and his only children’s book.

Source: Maria Popova, brainpickings.org (23rd April 2020)

#quote #women writers #life #love #meaning #existential musings #all eternal things #love in a time of...#intelligence quotients #progressive thinking #depth perception #human nature #stronger together #this is who we are #i will believe #stands on its own #elisa english #elisaenglish

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brigutierrezuwp-blog · 7 years

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Literacy Narrative draft 1

There are certain types of discourse that I have always been drawn to. At a young age, I have always felt that I was a bit of an outcast because I was sensitive to kinds of experiences that were rooted in hardship. There were types of experiences that never sat right with me - but because I was not able to identify behaviors with words and cohesive sentences, I was unable to process what was really happening. This, in turn, led to many instances of internalization, where I would override my own thoughts and accept anothers as truth. Being a major in the humanities has really helped me learn how to become literate in socioeconomic discourse, which in turn allows me to deconstruct and identify oppression on an individual, and communal level. In addition, learning how to identify forms of oppression has been really liberating for me - it has helped me grow into my own person, for the better.

As an adolescent, I never really knew what racism, classism or sexism was. However, I remember growing up and being exposed to all of these things. In elementary school, I saw how there were specific activities or behaviors that only boys were “capable” of doing. When I went to middle and high school, which was mostly predominantly white, I began to hear many jokes about minority culture(s) which were often interlinked with poverty. In my childhood, I heard so many sentiments rooted in prejudice and bigotry that it became normalized for me. They were just one of the many unfair truths in life, that things are what they are. It wasn’t until I got to college that I began to take classes rooted in social justice. The more I went to class and the more I read from authors like Bell Hooks and Gloria Anzandula, the more conscious I became of all of the micro-aggressions and injustices I had experienced in my life. It felt like a weight was shifted off of my shoulders. It felt validating - like this entire time my thoughts and feelings weren’t just in my head, but were actually shared by many people. I began to pick up socioeconomic terminology that made it easier to identify beliefs and ideologies rooted in systemic oppression, which in turn kind of helped me navigate through social circles - I had always had a feeling, but now I have a validated reason to decide not to hang out with certain peoples if I don’t want to. Becoming socially conscious helped me find community and friends that I feel like I can fully relate to.

Last halloween, I was lounging around in the living room waiting for some friends. A few men walked in and greeted everyone but the women in the living room. I was confused for a second and wondered if I was making a big deal out of nothing when I went to ask one of the other girls in the kitchen what they thought. We both had noticed that even though we knew these men personally, they still did not acknowledge us. After a few moments in thought, my friend and I both felt like this interaction was kind of sexist. We felt like because we were women we were seen as simply counterparts, not really worth engaging unless to ask for a favor. The word sexist helped my friend and I realize that this behavior was disrespectful, because it is rooted in the belief that woman is second to man. If we had not found a word to help us identify oppressive behavior, we might have second-guessed ourselves, keeping us vulnerable to disrespect.

There was also another time where I was sitting outside on my porch with some company. Somebody had mentioned that they were not racist because they voted for Obama. This statement never sat right with me - until a few weeks later I had learned about what tokenism is. The Merriam Webster Dictionary’s definition of tokenism of is, “the policy or practice of making only a symbolic effort (as to desegregate)”. By voting for a person of color, that person implied that they were absolved of any racial ideologies, even if the sentiments they were expressing before-hand were problematic. Tokenism is a tactic people use to show that they are in solidarity with a marginalized community, but only for the reason of self-defense. I see tokenism everywhere, especially in media, like when magazine companies only have one person of color in the photo shoot to convey that they are a fair and non-discriminatory.

With this new language, there are times where I feel like I have rebirthed into a new identity. For example, as a teen I have always struggled to find words that I am able to identify with. The English language can be very gendered and binary - it is very black and white. I feel that since language affects thought process, this binary removed any possibility in my mind that there was any kind of grey area. I had struggled with my own identity for so long - I felt like I had to be this or that, and that I couldn’t just be in the middle. It wasn’t until I took a class on gender and sexuality that I found the words “queer” and “non-binary”. I felt like I could really relate to these words and they helped me really learn how to love myself. Words are curious like that, because in a metaphysical sense they're like tangible objects that prove your existence - and they allow you to relay your lived experiences to others in the most concise way possible - although it is hard because since certain types of discourse are often only studied in academia, the language follows. People I know and love often live their entire lives without being exposed to words that can allude to a concept that might change their identity or the way they view the world forever.

Because I am a humanities major, I have to write a lot. I am in my second year of college but I have already written many essays and have composed too many short responses.However, I find that writing about issues and opinions that are so important to me has made the writing process alot easier. I have also learned how words can have several meanings depending on the context in which you place them. I feel like being a humanities major has also motivated me to write more poetry. Learning about so many new words and seeing the different ways that they are used has made writing fun to take up recreationally again. It’s also been a great way for me to reflect on my identity and its relation to the world.

I love my major and the path it has created for me. For a long time I used to feel really worried about where I would end up in life, but I think that with this major no matter where I’ll go I’ll always be equipped with a knowledge meant to help people. I often wonder why more people aren’t taking courses in majors like gender and sexuality. It analyzes people and where types of behaviors are rooted. It’s like navigating the matrix, or falling further down the rabbit hole. There are so many social, political, and economic factors that play into someone’s mental health and wellbeing. I can envision myself working with queer youth of color, spreading awareness and encouraging resilience and livelihood. I want to be here for the future generations that bear marginalized identities. I want to be an embodiment of solidarity, somebody that one can come to and relate to in the hardest of times. I want to enact change. Learning about social justice discourse helps me get to where I want to be.

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sammygirardin33-blog · 7 years

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12 Love Estimates To Commemorate Sweetest Time

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