#anyways. the traveler means so much to me.

[teaboot]

One of the biggest eye-openers for me back when a I went to church was that like…

Oh man how do I explain it.

There’s this prevalent idea I see a lot in Christian circles that if you pray right, if you follow God correctly, if you’re a truly virtuous person, your problems will be solved, right?

If you suffer, if you fall ill, if bad things happen, it’s because you aren’t good enough. You don’t need medicine because if you’re worthy, if you’re faithful enough, God will reward you by healing you. Right?

But like. Discussing this with my mother, and travelling out east with our pastor… Jesus didn’t spend all his time with perfect, virtuous people. Jesus didn’t seek out and heal well-to-do, faithful, perfect Christians. In fact, there’s a specific story in which he straight up doesn’t travel out to heal a believer’s dying daughter, because she’s already “saved”. Her earthy death is okay because she’s going to heaven already.

And like… coming from our Pastor, who is one of the best guys I’ve ever met- there seems to be an ongoing, underlying message of, “Jesus doesn’t care about you if you’re a good Christian”. If you’re a good Christian, if you’re living a virtuous life on earth, then any suffering you experience is only temporary- your ETERNITY is secure. Jesus goes out of his way to meet with sinners and the unfaithful because those are the people whose souls are in danger.

So like. In that perspective, being good doesn’t make your life better, it’s just good for others and good for your soul. Praying and doing good probably won’t cure your cancer, but it may mean you don’t have to worry too much about your death.

And like. I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself a Christian, but I find myself thinking about that concept a lot

Does suffering mean you deserve a reward?

Is suffering proof that you’re unworthy?

Or is suffering just an unfortunate facet of life that doesn’t reflect on your worth, that you still have to deal with as best you can?

Maybe suffering is just suffering.

Maybe the bad things you experienced weren’t about you

And maybe you just gotta try your best and be kind anyways, so you can rest easy when you go

[lyvhie]

omg hiii, i’ve been in my haechan feels lately, especially with him looking unreal from the seoul shows. can we get possessive haechan?? like i swear that man loves his girl down bad, absolutely in love, and he’s so possessive of her like not in a toxic weird way, but like a hot cute endearing way like a way that would make me push him into the dressing room of a clothes store and give him the most best and deserved head he’s ever gotten bc if there’s anything i love, it’s a man who’s down baddd

── .✦ moments of appreciation

lee donghyuck x fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ ࣪cw: smut, fluff (?), oral (m), deep throat, public sex. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: hi anon... you're so right... i think about this everyday, i meed him in every ways possible, you dont get it... please, enjoy!!! (no, i have nothing for valentine's day, maybe next year, babes 😜😜)

Donghyuck never thought he could love someone the way he loves you. He couldn't quite put into words everything that made him love you, you were simply it for him, perfect in all the right ways.

Yes, you had your imperfections, but to him, love was never about perfection. It wasn't about logic or reason, it simply was. Anyone could love something for all the good it offered, but real love, the kind that mattered, was about embracing everything, even the flaws. And that's exactly how he loved you—completely, without hesitation, without conditions.

He had thought about this before. You could break his heart, shatter him beyond repair, or commit the worst sins imaginable, and he would still love you—helplessly, foolishly. It didn't matter if it sounded irrational, maybe even a little insane. The truth was simple: he would do anything for you, no matter the cost.

But the best part? You were his. No one else's, just his. The thought alone made his chest swell with something dangerously close to obsession. Out of everyone in the world, you had chosen him, and that was a privilege he would never take lightly. You were his, and he was just as much yours, bound to you in a way that felt absolute, unshakable.

And that’s why, even after what felt like days sitting on that little couch, watching you step out of the dressing room in a different outfit each time, he still felt like he was having the best day of his life. Then again, every day felt like the best as long as you were in it.

Really, was there any better way to spend his time than watching his pretty girl try on pretty clothes?

“What do you think about this one?” You asked again, the same question you’d been repeating since the first outfit change.

Donghyuck looked up from his phone, his eyes immediately locking onto you.

“I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life,” he said with a bright smile, letting his gaze travel up and down twice.

“Hyuck, come on,” you rolled your eyes. “You said that the last fifteen times. You’re being useless,” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“How is it my fault that you look stunning in everything?” he shot back, tilting his head with a smirk.

You sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I need actual feedback, not just you being a flirt.”

Donghyuck leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave you a once-over, this time, with a more thoughtful expression. “Okay, fine. Turn around.”

You did as he said, giving him a little twirl before facing him again, an expectant look on your face.

He hummed, tapping his chin dramatically. “I mean… it is a really nice outfit,” he said slowly, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“But?”

“But I still think you are the best part of it,” he grinned, dodging the throw pillow you immediately launched at him.

He got up from his seat, laughing as he walked toward your grumpy figure, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Aw, don't look at me like that, gorgeous," he teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek and chuckling when you turned your face away. "Why are you so worried about this anyway?" he asked, tightening his grip slightly when you tried to pull away.

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It's for the reunion," you admitted, avoiding his gaze.

Donghyuck blinked, then tilted his head. "The high school thing?"

"Yes, the high school thing," you huffed. "I don't know, I just... want to look good. It's been years, and I'll be seeing people I haven't seen since we were all awkward teenagers."

His lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Ohhh, I get it now," he cooed. "You wanna show off a little, huh?"

You shot him a glare. "It's not like that—”

"It is like that," he interrupted, grinning. "And honestly? You should. You're hot. Let them eat their hearts out."

Despite yourself, you couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as he pinched your sides playfully.

"I'm serious, baby. You're stressing over nothing. Just look at you," he said, taking your hand and turning you toward the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're breathtaking, the most beautiful woman in the universe and beyond. You could show up in pajamas and still look like a goddess."

You thought you'd be used to his endless flattery by now, but somehow, you never were. It was always sweet, never failing to make your heart skip a beat.

You glanced at him through the mirror, your worries slowly fading as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck.

"You're so dramatic," your tone warm as you rolled your eyes but leaned back into him anyway.

"I'm just telling the truth," he murmured, pressing his nose against your neck. "It's not my fault my overthinking girlfriend needs constant reminders of how stunning she is."

You huffed, but the way your lips twitched betrayed you. "Well, maybe if someone gave me actual opinions instead of just approving everything i wear, I wouldn't have to overthink."

Donghyuck chuckled, swaying you gently in his arms. "Fine, fine. If you really want my expert opinion..." He paused, pretending to scrutinize your reflection in the mirror.

You raised an eyebrow, waiting. "And?”

“Don’t wear this dress.”

“What? Why?” You frowned, glancing at your reflection. “I actually liked this one the most. Does it really look that bad?”

“I never said that,” his hands trailing up and down your waist. “You look incredible, love, but it feels a little too formal for the occasion. The second one you tried fits the vibe better. Plus, it’ll probably be more comfortable… you know, in case we need to make a quick getaway.”

Yeah, he wouldn't admit it, but he wanted you to wear it just for him. You looked too beautiful in it, almost unfairly so, the idea of anyone else seeing you like this, soaking in the sight of you, were a big no-no. Unwanted attention (read: any attention that wasn’t exclusively his) was simply not an option.

“Oh, so you’re already planning our escape before we even get there?” You raised your brows, crossing your arms. “Really?”

Donghyuck chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Baby, please. I know you," his voice laced with amusement. "You won't last more than an hour before you start getting annoyed at half the people there. You'll smile, nod, pretend to listen, and then, you'll be counting the minutes until we leave."

He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze in the mirror, a smug grin on his lips. "So, yeah, I'm already planning our escape. Just being a good boyfriend and thinking ahead.”

"Okay, maybe you have a point," you teased, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck. "Guess I should thank my thoughtful boyfriend for planning ahead."

"Just doing the bare minimum for my girl," he smiled, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Now that we've finally settled on an outfit and I’ve reminded you how perfect you are, can I spoil you and pay for everything you liked?"

You held his gaze, your heart doing that little flutter it always did when he looked at you like that, like you were his entire universe. It was almost overwhelming, the way his eyes softened, filled with something so pure, so consuming.

If love had a shape, a form, a physical presence, you were sure it lived in the way Haechan looked at you. The same way a loyal pet would gaze at their favorite person, full of unconditional adoration, unwavering and endless. His pupils were blown wide, his expression a mix of devotion and something deeper, something you couldn't quite put into words.

“Baby, please, don’t tell me you’re going to refuse again,” he whined at your silence, pouting a little. “Why do you love to ruin my happiness? It's my duty to—”

“I love you, Lee Donghyuck,” you said softly, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss.

He was surprise by the sudden words and actions, but his shoulders instantly relaxed as he melted into your embrace. He kissed you back with equal passion, murmuring between the kisses, “I love you too,” before peppering your lips with more soft kisses as you pulled away, only for him to chase after you, craving more of your touch.

You couldn't help but giggle at the way he whined in protest when you pulled away for good, placing your hands on his chest to stop him. Biting your lip, you glanced around before tugging his hand, a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered, "Come with me." And just like that, you pulled him into the dressing room.

"What are you doing?" he asked, slightly confused, though he wasn't exactly opposed to whatever you had in mind.

"Just saying thank you for being the sweetest boyfriend ever," you murmured, sinking to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding up his thighs as you looked up at him.

Oh, he knew exactly what was happening. God, he couldn't believe it. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his heart pounded, the sight of you like this making his pants uncomfortably tight.

"Are you sure, love?" his voice softer now, laced with anticipation. His eyes flickered to the curtain, hesitant for only a second as you unbuttoned his pants. "This isn't really the best place to—"

A low groan slipped from his lips as your hand firmly cupped his growing hardness, cutting off whatever weak protest he was about to make.

"Be quiet, Hyuck," you scolded, palming him again. He sucked in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip to stifle any sound as a dark spot began to form on his underwear.

“Fuck, hurry up,” he hissed, any previous hesitation now completely forgotten.

You smirked at his impatience but didn’t tease him, at least, not too much. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you tugged them down just enough to free his cock, standing hard and eager, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip.

You wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his breath hitched with each movement. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm as he leaned back against the wall, his gaze locked onto you, dark with need. His cock twitched in your grip, another bead of precum spilling from the tip, proof of just how desperate he already was for you.

You merely smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his tip before running your tongue along his length, savoring the way he tensed under your touch. His head fell back against the wall, his breathing growing heavier, his thighs trembling slightly as you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper.

"Shit—" He bit down on his fist to muffle the groan that nearly slipped, his other hand instinctively threading through your hair, not to control your pace but just to feel you closer, to ground himself in the pleasure you were giving him.

The muffled sounds of the store outside felt like a distant hum, completely drowned out by the way your tongue moved so perfectly against him. His not-so-soft moans filled the small space, each one making your core tighten with satisfaction. You sucked on the tip of his cock before slowly pulling away, letting it slip from your lips with a sinful pop, but your hand never stopped stroking him.

"Hyuck, you're being too loud," you scolded in a hushed tone, glancing up at him with a mix of amusement and warning.

“Don't stop,” he whined, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation. His hips jerked forward instinctively, chasing your warmth. Even the slightest brush of your lips against his tip had his knees trembling.

You let out a soft chuckle, watching the way he was falling apart just from your touch. His fingers tightened in your hair, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to push you down onto him the way he so desperately wanted.

“You’re so needy,” you teased, your breath ghosting over his sensitive tip, making him shudder.

“And whose fault is that?” he shot back, his voice strained, breathing heavily.

Instead of answering, you wrapped your lips around him once more, taking him in deeper this time. His head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, a broken moan escaping his lips as his grip in your hair loosened for a moment, only to tighten again when your tongue flicked over his slit.

Was he dead, and this was paradise? If not, it had to be the closest thing to it. His legs nearly gave out when he felt your throat tighten around him, the sudden sensation ripping a loud moan from his lips. Your nails dug into his thighs in warning, silently telling him to keep quiet. He bit down hard on his lower lip, his breathing ragged as he fought to control himself, but with the way your mouth worked on him, it was becoming nearly impossible.

He looked down at you, and what a sight. The way your lips stretched around him, the glint in your eyes as you took him deeper—it was enough to make his head spin. The pleasure was overwhelming, pushing him closer to the edge. His hips moved on their own, chasing that high, silently begging you to go faster, to take him there.

You gave in to his desires, quickening your pace, sucking with more intensity, while your hand skillfully massaged his balls, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. The rhythm of your actions seemed to drive him wild, his breath ragged as he struggled to hold on.

His body tensed, his head spinning as he reached his peak, hot spurts of cum filling your mouth. His fingers tightened in your hair, urging you closer as his hips jerked forward, riding out the last tremors of his climax, unwilling to let go.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth, knowing he would have kept you there if he had his way. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing up to see his face in pure satisfaction, eyes shut and head leaning against the wall. His hand now gently ran through your hair, his breath still heavy as he mumbled how good you were, the words dripping with praise.

You let out a soft giggle, adjusting his clothes as you noticed how disoriented he looked. As you stood up, he finally met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. Without warning, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss that was intense yet tender. “God, I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against your lips.

“Me too,” you replied, a playful smile on your face. “I think the whole store heard you,” you teased, gently biting his lower lip before pulling away to meet his gaze.

“Then I guess they know how much I love you now,” he shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, making you laugh. “Maybe I’ll be quieter next time.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Next time? I think this one was enough, don’t you? We could have gotten caught.”

“But we didn’t,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Next time, I’ll make sure you're the one making all the noise.”

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[radicalrascals]

Rafael clears the table of the remnants of their somewhat failed dinner and the slightly more disastrous drinking game. He only looks up at Tisha with a mock frown. "You? Behave yourself? I hope I'll never have to witness such atrocities." He lets the plates be plates and wraps Tisha in his arms, pulling her close to kiss. "I'll go to Hell anyway, might as well make it worthwhile." He laughs. His carefreeness a stark contrast to his brother's musings.

As much as Nick is excited for the big family gathering, and honoured that both Tisha and Hari want him there, he can't ignore the tiny little sting in his chest which reminds him that he can't take Hari to have a similar experience with his own family. Almost apologetically for no reason other than to silence the nagging voice in the back of his head, he offers: "You've already met my mamãe." A nod in the general direction where they had left Rafael. "He took me to my first concert. I was a older than four, I give him that." Probably still too young though. "I feel like he'll get along well with your dad. Two people full of stories." So is he, but the stories aren't meant for ears that have never heard of the supernatural outside of fiction. And he doesn't mind.

"I'm sorry if I make it sound like I need convincing. I don't. I'm so on board with this, you have no idea," Nick smiles, snaking an arm around Hari and pulling him into a relaxed hug. "Before today I didn't think we needed warning labels... or, or care instructions. That's a better word. But apparently we do. Rafa more than me, I hope." Circling back to the warning labels then. "And it's not just the way I can't appreciate your mum's silverware. Or about Rafa being a pescetarian. I mean... actually... I don't know what I mean." Perhaps it's just the earlier half of this evening still haunting him.

Suddenly the gargle of the moka pot poses a welcome distraction and Nick quickly springs into action, filling each cup with deliciously strong coffee. But it doesn't distract him for long. "I remember big family gatherings. Travelling halfway across the country. Deus meu, the food! You've never had barbeque if you haven't tried churrasco." Well, Rafael might not agree. "My point is. My family completely broke apart. Rafa's kids are grown up. Renato is... We... well, we don't talk much. I can't give you the same. And I know you're not asking for it. But I just wish I could."

Tisha tsks, shaking her head. "Ah, too bad. That's one of my favorite bits." In her defense, it does usually land. Usually because she isn't always great at finding the right moment to do a bit. "Well, for the record," She leans back to watch Hari go into the kitchen before continuing, like it's a secret and not something her brother is very well aware of. "I can behave myself sometimes. I just need lots of time to prepare. And as few opportunities to make jokes as possible. I have in fact gotten through multiple entire church services without getting kicked out."

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Nick. Tisha’s messing around." Hari insists, opening the cupboard and taking down the mugs. He turns and leans against the counter, hands braced behind him. "My parents are… shit, I don’t know.”

He pushes himself off the counter and wraps an arm around Nick’s shoulders. “My dad was a tour drummer in the seventies and eighties. He took me to see Fleetwood Mac when I was four, I think I probably got lifelong hearing damage. Don’t remember a second of it. He only changed careers because my mom needed to start her residency. When I came out, he decided the best way to prove it wasn’t a big deal was by talking about all of the musicians he hooked up with before he married my mom.”

He grimaces, “He still likes telling those stories, so be prepared. My mom… she likes to let dad do the talking. She’s a little… blunt. But she doesn’t mean anything by it, she just struggles a little with strangers. And my siblings won’t be a problem. They’ll razz Tisha all night for the grandma thing, but it won’t upset anyone. And… besides, all of that is…”

Hari actually looks a little embarrassed now, the faintest flush rising up his neck. “I feel pretty sure they won’t have any problem with Rafael, but I know they won’t have any problem with you, because I already told them about you. Not the… werewolf thing, but… pretty much everything else. If Tisha hadn’t ambushed us with this I… I don’t know, I was already thinking about it.”

[zaras22]

i need another dain quest already 😭😭

[sainz100]

2024 Hungarian GP | x (edited)

[sideblogdotjpeg]

have been thinking about professor sol even. professor bufo with no clearly discernable lesson plan. sol bufo ostensibly martial arts professor who spent two weeks running a yoga and meditation program and shows up to the next class with crochet hooks for everyone. professor bufo who is technically supposed to be assigning grades to students but hasnt given anyone less than an A because "i think they worked really hard and they did a great job :)" (referring to the ugliest and most malformed pot holder anyone has laid eyes upon in their life). professor bufo who is on his way to cluelessly kickstart the sexual awakening of about half the cohort of the academys new students. sol bufo adjunct professor who is gone half the year and his first class back is so immediately and easily baited into going into a long tangent about how cool his friends are. sol who is pretty sure hes easily the most useless professor on campus and almost cries when he sees his little desk overflowing with thank you notes at the end of the year. professor bufo absolutely fucking gloriously hot in the tightest little sweater vest because there were faculty complaints when he wore a crop top to class.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

you know, i kind of wonder if ruby, having grown up with a Black mother and grandmother (and foster siblings??), might have picked up on the racism before the doctor did. cause like, the doctor has been white for, in their perspective, their entire life (what with their memories of being the timeless child and ruth!doctor having been wiped, and i think it's reasonable to assume this is still very very early days for 15). whereas, ruby probably had to have at some point as a child picked up on the fact that people were treating her differently from her family, right?

come to think of it — is ruby actually aware that the doctor didn't realize until the end? like — she doesn't still know about regeneration yet, right? cause if she doesn't, then it would make sense for her to have assumed that 15 did pick up on the microaggressions and just wanted to save these people even with that knowledge. really adds another layer to why this sucks for him

[art--harridan]

[Image description: A digital drawing of Jess from the film Triangle. The piece is comprised of different triangular sections, with Jess in the biggest central one. She is staring forward forlornly, mouth open slightly. She is heavily shadowed. Behind her, there's a stretch of the ocean and a sky with a few clouds. Theres a smudge of blood on her forehead, and she's sweating profusely. The two triangles above her show her hand aiming a shotgun and the hood of the film's killer respectively. Further below, there's a triangle which is a close-up of a mirror. Written in blood, it says "go to the theater", though not all of the text is visible. Jess is facing it. To the side of the main Jess drawing there's a sliver of a triangle showing a pile of unidentifiable corpses, all having similar colour schemes. They're drenched in blood. Between all of the sections there's blood red triangles, which drip inwards towards Jess. The colours are cold and desaturated, and the lineart is dark.]

Inktober - Day 20 (Uncharted)

Film - Triangle (Christopher Smith, 2009)

[sonknuxadow]

my honest reaction

[gaylightisminetocommand]

you don't understand i was obsessed with Night at the Museum as a kid and i loved Jed and subconsciously shipped him with Octavius before i even knew you were allowed to ship two boys together, heck, before i even knew what shipping was, and now Owen Wilson is Mobius and it's the same fucking thing again where he's playing a heavily queer-coded character but the media they're in forces him to call his soulmate his 'friend' but there's no fucking way they're straight but this time around i know what shipping is and i know what homosexuality is and maybe d*sney will never let them kiss but hell if that's gonna stop me from losing my mind over them-

[novasquadron]

ANYWAY i recently got into tng and am now super obsessed with wesley (just a lil dude!! why does everyone hate him i don't get it!!) and all the Implications and Potential that his character had (and has)

like your father killed on duty, lingering resentment with the man who feels responsible for it, the same man whose words are like gospel to you, who gives you every single opportunity that you shouldn't be given, who was only persuaded to do so by a somewhat higher being who is oh so carefully crafting your life in just the right ways for Something, constantly being brought forward and pushed away, too many parent figures and only one and none, the only meaningful friendships you have are with people twice your age (they will always see you as a child), you do everything for Him, everything for His legacy (your dead father? your captain? they're so closely intermingled and so far apart), you finally reach what everyone knows you're going to do, you get into the best team in the school, you have a best friend (was he something more? do you even remember?), you kill him (it's so much more than that but the black and white is addicting), everyone hates you, He's disappointed in you, how long has it been since you could look your mother in her eyes, you want to die but that would be unfair, how dare you feel guilty, and oh look, the beings who have watched you for your whole life (they knew this would happen) want you to join them. there's never been another choice. the prodigal son always completes his duties.

[fictionadventurer]

Maybe I need to write Cardinal's Map so there's a contemporary book about the power of literature and reaching for a world beyond the mundane that isn't wall-to-wall inspirational platitudes with vague worldbuilding about the battle between the forces of good vs. evil.

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[ourceliumnetwork]

apparently we're not out of the woods on holiday trauma responses just yet - i'm hoping we're on the tail end of it but like. good lord.

[johndonneswife]

someone really should be talking about how difficult it is to plan a wedding - a gay wedding - when both of your families fucking suck

[goldennika]

this guy i’m talking to is so nice and understanding and patient and thoughtful and funny??? i’m not used to this???