#because!!! believe it or not our face shape change over time

[ishikawayukis]

while on one hand it should be safe to assume that most idols have gotten some kind of plastic surgery done, on the other hand those before and after videos are sick and straight up comparing pictures of them as teenagers and then as almost 30 year olds

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[cherrysnip]

sincerely yours - choi seungcheol

pairing: seungcheol x afab!reader

content: married life, dad!seungcheol's reaction when your daughter received a love letter.

(spoiler alert: he freaked out😭)

word count: 1.5k

Tuesday nights have always been Seungcheol's turn to wash the dishes. In retrospect, no one can even make him do a single household chore when he was younger. He grew up surrounded by helpers who were paid to do the job so he didn't try as much to learn them.

However, that changed when he married you. Probably it was because of how you were raised differently from him but you’re not comfortable of having other people hovering around your house to "do things you can do on your own". And unwilling as he was at first, Seungcheol just obeyed what you wanted because well, that's how whipped he is. (He'd undoubtedly say yes had you even declared the sky green.)

So here he is, seven years later, a "master" on the craft of washing the dishes. It's silly how such a simple thing could make him so happy but really, it wasn't easy for him to reach this point. He broke plates after plates that he swore at one point he saw you gritting your teeth like you were one thread away from strangling him.

But he said that every time you would smile at him and utter a soft thank you, hell, everything's worth it.

"Why are you smiling like a fool?"

He turned to see you leaning on the counter watching him with suspicion. A sheepish smile escaped from Seungcheol's lips as he reached out for a dry towel to wipe his hands.

"You don't have to know," he teased.

Your brows furrowed, "You better not be thinking of another woman or else..."

Seungcheol chuckled and walked towards you. He leaned, placing his hands on your sides, caging you on the counter. The action was so sudden it caught you off guard.

"How would I do that when you're everything I think about every waking day of my life? Hmm?" He planted a kiss on your shoulder which made you gasp. Years into your marriage but this little things your husband does still makes you giddy like a teenager. And of course, the blush spreading all over your face didn't escape Seungcheol, causing him to grin wider. Your reaction to his touch will always be his favorite drug.

"Now, you're just flattering me..." 

"I'm being sincere," Seungcheol insisted and met your eyes. "I still can't believe that after all these years, I'm actually married to you. How can I be so damn lucky?"

After he said that, your pouting lips turned into a wide smile. He is such a dork, you thought. You can't resist it anymore so you cupped his cheeks to kiss the tip of his nose. Being the competitive guy that he is, he did the same to you while chuckling. 

"I'm luckier to have married you, Cheollie. You're everything I've dreamed of a husband."

"Are you sure? I remember six years ago, you said you'll divorce me because I forgot to clean our room."

"Well, you already learned your lesson, didn't you?"

Seungcheol nodded, "I most certainly did."

"Oh by the way, I have something to tell you," you said a little bit later. Your arms were already wrapped around Seungcheol's waist with your chin on his broad chest.

"Baby no. 3?" Seungcheol asked hopefully and he only received a pinch on his side. "Aw! I'm just kidding sweetheart!"

"Tss," You removed yourself from Seungcheol but you still didn't let go of his arm while you gently dragged him to your living room. You picked up something from your coffee table and even though he was basically towering over you, he still wasn't able to have a clear sight of what it was because you were quick to hide it on your back.

"What is it?” He curiously asked but instead of answering him immediately, you slightly squeezed his arm."Promise me you won't have a heart attack?"

"How can I promise that sweetheart? Come on."

"Well, okay. Just please don't pass out."

"You're just making me nervous."

You pursed your lips and handed him the familiar heart-shaped paper. The last time he got a hold of something similar to this was during Valentine's Day and he almost lashed out. Good thing, you were able to prevent him from doing so. 

"W-what's the meaning of this?"

You clicked your tongue trying to supress your laughter. Knowing your husband, you kind of expected this reaction from him already. 

"Found that in your daughter's workbook. I was helping her with her assignment and that fell."

"Damn it! Seriously?" Seungcheol dramatically gasped and stared at the piece of paper again. "Sweetheart, you've already read this haven't you?"

"I did."

"And you're not bothered?"

"No, I'm not. Actually, I find it cute," you replied.

"It isn't." Seungcheol almost shouted but tried hard not to make it too loud because he was well aware the twins were already sleeping. "Look here sweet, whoever this kid was, confessed he has a crush on Chaewon and even wrote I LOVE YOU! He wrote I LOVE YOU to our daughter!"

You finally burst into fits of laughter, "What's wrong with that?"

Seungcheol was starting to get annoyed now but it immediately dissipated when you touched his arm and guided him to sit on the couch.

"Calm down Cheollie. It's just a simple note. No need to fret so much about it," you tried to ease him and Seungcheol sighed. He reached for your hand and pressed it as if he's trying to summon his lost composure.

"I mean...that kid wrote those words for our daughter. To our princess. And he's only what? Six years old? Does he even know what it means?"

"Don't insult the feelings of that kid, Cheollie. You yourself even proposed to someone when you were just what? Three?"

Shock passed through Seungcheol's face. He was just going to defend himself when you waved your free hand. "Don't even try to deny it. It was your mom who told me about it."

"Fine. But that's beside the point...last time it was Jungwon. Our little prince received a similar letter with three red roses on Valentine's Day and now it's Chaewon...and an I love you? God! The moment we received the result of your pregnancy test even felt like it just happened yesterday and now, they're receiving these...things. It's too fast. They're growing up too fast."

"Cheollie. It's not as if they're already marrying--"

Seungcheol was quick to cut off what you were supposed to say. "God no sweetheart! They're just six-year olds!"

"Exactly my point," You calmly said and closed the gap between you by hugging him and burying your face on the crook of Seungcheol's neck. "So loosen up, okay?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that... I know that after several years they'll grow up and will meet a lot of people. And then eventually, both of our kids will each meet the person they will love...but right now, I really just want them to enjoy their childhood first...is that too much to ask?" Seungcheol immediately stopped talking when he heard you sniffing. "Are you crying?"

You lifted your head and hurriedly wiped your tears without looking at him. "This is your fault."

"What did I do?" Seungcheol asked teasingly and helped dry your cheeks. "Okay, I'll stop being irrational now so you should stop crying too."

You immediately shook your head, "You're not being irrational. You're just being a good, scratch that, the best father you have always been. You're loving and responsible."

"And?"

"Fine. Handsome too. Very," you both chuckled. "Jungwon and Chaewon are sure lucky to have you as a father."

“And you as their mother," Seungcheol kissed your forehead.

"Seriously though," You suddenly said and peeked at the paper your husband was holding. "The kid is undeniably sweet writing a letter like that."

"Sweetheart..." He groaned and his plump red lips automatically turning into a pout like that of a kid sulking. 

"Sorry," you giggled. "I won't bring it up again."

You both just stayed on the couch for a long time hugging each other. And even with just that, everything felt perfect.

"Cheollie?" You called in a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"I just realized something after reading that kid's letter."

"Uhuh?" Seungcheol responded expectantly.

"That I don't say those words a lot to you," Your voice wavered. "Even if you very much deserved to hear it everyday."

Seungcheol can't help but smile because he is completely aware that you're not the most expressive when it comes to your feelings (which is a complete opposite of him) but he also knew that you have so much love to give and you just have a different way to express it. 

"Even if you don't say it everyday sweetheart, I can always feel your love for me and for the twins. And that, " Seungcheol hugged you tighter, "...is more than enough.

"But still, I feel like you want to hear it."

"I do but--"

"I love you, Cheollie." You said rather abruptly and buried your face on Seungcheol's chest. He could only laugh at your cuteness.

"Are you seriously acting shy now?"

Shame was definitely already creeping on your system so you slapped his chest and whined in a low voice, "Stop teasing me!"

With a contented smile, he whispered too.

"I love you more sweetheart."

—♡—

[w2soneshots]

Labour -W2S

words: 1.6k+

warnings: pregnancy, birth.

summary: you and Harry finally meet your baby girl.

notes: I’ve never had a baby so I apologise if this isn’t accurate!! Also this was a request on wattpad. Hope you enjoy🫶🏼🧸

Liked by wroetoshaw and 1,467,098 others

y/username: not long now🫣🤍 @wrotoshaw @freyanightingale

-comments-

faithloisak: ❤️❤️😭

taliamar: you're so cute

y/nfanpage21: the bump!🥺

user31479682: still can't believe w2s is gonna be a dad

I met Harry in primary school. I always thought he was a little weird but just as high school finished I fell head over heels in love with that weird boy. That was 12 years old. We got married two years ago, it was a small wedding in Guernsey with only our closest friends and family. Just under a year ago we decided we wanted a kid, 4 months later I found out I was 8 weeks pregnant. I waited an entire week to tell Harry just so I could tell him with a little bag containing a mini version of his charity match jersey inside (that I'd had specially made). Then we told the boys, Faith, Freya and Talia at a special dinner that we arranged just so we could tell them all together. They were extremely excited, especially Ethan and Faith because there would now be another set of parents in the group.

We found out we were having a little girl when I was 21 weeks. That was also around the time I felt the baby kick for the first time, me and Harry sat in our bed absolutely freaking out about it. After we knew it was a girl I could finally start buying an unholy amount of baby clothes, teddies and things for the nursery. Me and Faith have become considerably closer, since we now have things to talk about, she's really been a great help when it came to little worries I had or if I just needed someone to rant to about back pain.

I'm currently 38 weeks. The hospital bags are packed and the nursery is completely ready. I am seriously getting bored of being pregnant and would really like to just meet my baby. Harry ran me a warm bath so I could relax. Then I dried myself, put on my current favourite pyjamas and slid into bed next to him. I struggled slightly getting to sleep since I was really uncomfortable. I tossed and turned until I finally drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the feeling of wet between my legs. Confused, I pulled the covers back. My eyes met a large patch of clear ish liquid on the mattress, barely visible in the darkness of the room. My brows furrowed then my face dropped, mouth turning into an O shape. My water just broke. I took a deep breath then turned to gently shake Harry awake, he groaned. "Haz, wake up" I whispered gently. "What- what's up?!" He said the last part with a little bit of urgency after properly waking. "I think my water just broke." I stated calmly. His eyes widened "what!" He jumped off the bed.

"Calm down. It's fine the midwife said we have time, remember?" His face calmed slightly then he took in a shaky breath "are you ok?" He asked, coming over to my side of the bed. "I'm fine." I replied. He helped me off the soaked bed and to my feet. "This is really happening, we're really going this." He said with slight excitement in his eyes. "Yes we are. Now can you grab the hospital bag while I change?" He quickly nodded then ran towards the nursery where the bag resides.

I got changed into a comfy sweat set, brushed my hair and tied it back into a bun. When I emerged from the bedroom Harry was stood by the door rapidly texting on his phone. "Ready to go?" I asked. He looked up "yea," he nodded "I was just texting the boys." I giggled "Harry it's 5am!" I said with a light shake of my head. "I needed to tell someone!" He exclaimed. "We're any of them even awake?" I asked as he unlocked the front door. "Uh- no but they'll see it in a bit." I laughed.

Once we got in the car I text my mum telling her what was going on, then Harry speedily started the car. We were at the hospital just 15 minutes later. Harry helped me inside and we were quickly taken to a private room. "What time did your water break?" The nurse asked. "Around half four." I answered. "Ok... and have you had any contractions?" She questioned while scribbling on her clipboard. "Uh no, not yet." She looked up "alright then, I'll get my colleague to come and attach you to some machines so we can monitor you and baby." She said with a kind smile. I thanked her and she left the room.

Another nurse came in soon after and wrapped my stomach with some monitors, she did some other general checks on me. Once she left Harry came to sit next to me and held my hand. I smiled at him but my smile was quickly replaced with a look of discomfort as I felt a small but painful cramp wrap around the bottom of my stomach. "Woah, was that a contradiction?" Harry questioned a few seconds later, once it had subsided. I nodded "ye I think so." I replied. "Should I go get the nurse?" He asked. "No I'm fine." I answered. He nodded and kept his hand firmly in mine.

y/username just posted a new story!

Once it hit 8am I was having regular contractions that were lasting around 30 seconds each and were 7 minutes apart. The midwife came in and checked how dilated I was, 4 centimetres. Me and Harry sat on a FaceTime call with his mum, dad and Rosie, just a few minutes after we called my family. Then I got a call from Faith. "Hey! How's it going. How are you?!" She asked excitedly. "Hey, I'm okay." I said with a light smile. She returned the smile "I literally couldn't believe it when Ethan told me you were in labour this morning." She stated. Before I could say anything else I felt another contraction building. I quickly said goodbye and placed my phone next to me. I took a deep breath and squeezed Harry's hand. "You're doing so good, breathe." He said quietly. As the pain subsided I let out a heavy sigh. Harry squeezed my hand lightly "You're incredible." I looked to him and smiled "You're so cute."

After an excruciating amount of time I was finally at 9 centimetres. I stood with my arms wrapped around Harry's neck, swaying slightly and breathing heavily. "Not long now. You've got this. I love you. You're doing so good." Harry whispered in to my ears as I clung to him. He kept his hands firmly on my waist, helping me to stay up. "Ok y/n, It looks like you're ready to push!" My midwife said and I looked up to Harry with fear in my eyes. He helped me back onto the bed and cupped my face in his hands gently "you're gonna be fine, I'm here." He said with a comforting voice. To be honest I thought Harry was going to be an absolute mess when it came to me giving birth but I was pleasantly surprised on how strong he's been, for me.

I lay back on the bed, held up by a few pillows and Harry was quick to grab my hand, once again. With my legs propped up, my midwife sat on a chair in front of me. "On the next contraction push as hard as you can." she said through my legs. I nodded nervously and it wasn't long until I felt that now all familiar pain run from my stomach all the way round to my lower back. I squeezed Harry's hand so tight I thought I might break it as I pushed with all I had.

After almost 30 minutes of what felt like constant pushing I finally heard the loud cries of my baby. Tears immediately poured down my face and the last few hours completely left my brain. I looked over to Harry once they passed me my baby. I have only ever seen Harry cry once during the entire time I've known him, but there was tears falling down his face as he stared sweetly at me. "You did incredible. She's perfect. I love you so much." He choked out. I brought him towards me by fisting his shirt in my hand and pulling him so our lips connected.

Once Harry cut the babies umbilical cord, both me and baby were checked over and cleaned up and we informed our families and friends that we were both ok and that the baby was healthy, we sat admiring the sweet little baby peacefully sleeping in the plastic cot. "We need to name her." Harry said quietly. "Got any ideas?" I asked, realising I hadn't actually thought about the fact she'd need a name. "Uhm, I like the name Nova." He said. My eyes lit up slightly and I nodded "she looks like a Nova." More tears dropped from my eyes. Harry shuffled towards me "what's wrong? are you okay?" He asked softly. I laughed lightly "I'm fine. I just- love her so much." Harry giggled then pulled me into a warm hug "I love you." He said with a breathy laugh. I smiled into his chest "I love you too."

y/username

Liked by wroetoshaw and 4,023,611 others

y/username: my baby girl Nova Lewis🤍

-comments-

behzingagram: omg wow wow wow congratulations❤️❤️❤️❤️

ksi: congratulations🥳

faithloisak: OMG😭😭😭😭

y/nfanpage21: I can't cope🥹

user29473674: w2s is officially a dad woah

[ghost-proofbaby]

EARLY MORNING (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: new routines are formed between you and eddie, and a code-word is formed for the bad days.

warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of financial struggles, mentions of weed, eddie is just having a rough time (just like me fr)

wc: 2k+

the full menu

Eddie doesn’t process he’s not the only one in the parking lot until your palm is smacking against his window.

He had been too wrapped up in his music he currently has blaring, the heavy bass and guitar riffs of For Whom The Bell Tolls shaking his van’s foundation as he let his eyes close for just a second. He wasn’t sleeping — he wishes he was sleeping. It was early, still four something in the morning, and he had hardly slept at all the night before. 

That slap of your hand against glass startles him, breaking whatever trance he had put himself under.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, blinking drearily as he rolls the window down and reaches to turn down the music, glaring at the image of you standing there with your arms crossed like a mother rearing up for a scolding, “Can’t a man have some relaxing alone time with Metallica before he slaves away for the siren?” 

Your demeanor cracks a bit, corners of your lips twitching to expose your amusement. You’d taught him that ridiculous joke — slaving away to the siren. That sly grin you were currently biting down on is the same one you wore when he’d been scolded for saying it in front of management.

“Dude, I could hear your music from across the parking lot. There’s nothing relaxing about it.”

Dude. He pretends like he won’t overthink that term, tries to focus on the endearment behind it rather than the sinking feeling in his gut. It’s hard to do that when you look so damn pretty, though. Bare faced, hair messily styled for the shift ahead of you two, those staple black jeans that always drags his jaw along the floors. 

“Shut up,” he doesn’t even have to ask, already leaning over to unlock his passenger door before you’ve started the journey around the front of the van. It’s a normal routine at this point for the two of you to sit in either his van or your Jeep together before opening. Enjoying a moment of silence with each other before you spend the next five hours and some change navigating the chaos that is the morning rush. Once you’re planted in the seat beside him, door securely shut and a shit-eating grin you don’t try to hide, he finally continues, “It’s relaxing to me. Not all of us start our day with that Taylor Swift shit.” 

Your grin widens, and so does the cavern in his heart that strangely resembles the shape of you, “You secretly love that Taylor Swift shit, don’t lie.” 

And you’re right. Of course you’re right, but for all the wrong reasons.

He loves it because you love it.

“I believe company policy is we can lie until we’ve had our first shot of espresso,” he grumbles, still trying to act unimpressed as he crosses his arms and shuffles deeper into his seat. He pinches his eyes back shut, this time just to avoid staring at you.

His mind and heart alike can’t take the way you look in the lavender dusk that still lingers in the parking lot, the soft light filtering through his van’s windshield. 

Metallica continues to play in the background, much lower than it was previously to your arrival. He’s content to sit here, the sweetness of your perfume hanging heavy in the air and just knowing your presence exists beside him now. To hear your breathing if he focuses hard enough. To listen for if you begin to pilfer through his glove box, to listen if you begin to tap along to any melodies on your knees. Small things. Things you don’t think about, and things that occupy his mind in a suffocating fashion. They have for the last several months now; you’ve managed to occupy his mind quite consistently, even on his days off. If he’s given a day of leisure, all he can do is consider what you’re doing. If he’s scheduled a shift without you, all he does is compare the other baristas to you. It’s poisonous. It spells out trouble. 

But in this moment, it more so whispers comfort. He knows there’s nearly thirty minutes until the key holder for the morning will arrive, and he lets himself lean into it. For the first time in nearly twenty four hours, sleep and rest alike are gunning for him with ease.

He’s got one foot in the door of falling asleep when you break the silence, “Hey, can I ask you something?” 

“You just di-“ 

“Shut up,” you huff, and he cracks open an eye, “I just… Okay, you can tell me to fuck off if you want.”

That catches his attention. Both eyes are wide open now, boring into yours. 

“Well?” he hums. You’re nervous. And it’s cute, and it’s normal. These moments are always quiet between the two of you. He hardly even remembers how this first became the normal routine for you two, but he’s grateful. He looks forward to it so much that his mind has spent the last two weeks trying to formulate ways to extend the tradition to after your shifts together to finally solidify that offer of friendship he’d accepted so long ago, “Don’t just leave me hanging in anticipation, babe.” 

The nickname rolls off his tongue with no effort. It’s different — with other coworkers, with customers, with everyone. He hasn’t picked up the habit of dropping nicknames with these strangers, but he has with you.

You, who has coined him as dude. Again, he tries to not overthink it.

“Have you not been sleeping well?” you blurt out, starting to fidget with the edge of your shirt and not looking up at him, “I just- I’ve noticed you’ve been more tired this last week, and I get it — we’re all always tired in the morning. I mean, it’s early as fuck. But I just noticed you’ve been more quiet and you’ve got these bags under your eyes and you’ve been sneaking more cold brew shots and-“ 

You don’t take a single breath as you rattle off your list of observations, seemingly petrified to reveal to Eddie that you see him. You notice him. 

It’s an unfamiliar feeling; to know someone has a watchful eye on you and, furthermore, cares about the changes they pick up on. 

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever experienced it before. Or the warmth that floods his chest.

“Oh, hey,” he finally sits up. Your mouth is still moving, ready to continue on, “Hey, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out and lands on your knee. It effectively leaves both of you speechless. 

“I…” How does he tell you? How can he best reveal the truth? 

I am tired. I’m not sleeping well. Bills are piling up and life is kind of shitty right now, and nothing really makes sense. Except you. You make sense, by some odd chance. You make it better.

“I’ve just had a lot of trouble sleeping recently. Don’t worry about me so much,” he settles on instead, the only words not too heavy to force out of his mouth. 

His hand is still on your knee. 

And suddenly, your hand comes down over his hand, palm a few degrees cooler than his own knuckles. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “That… that doesn’t help, but it sucks and I’m sorry. And if I can help in any way… just say the word.”

The word — what is the word? He wishes he knew it. He’d blurt it out in a heartbeat. 

His hand squeezes your knee, and in sync, your fingers return the gesture to the top of his hand. 

It’d just been a lot, recently. He’s tried to take some of the burden off of Wayne at home, he’d been looking into taking night classes at the community college back in Hawkins, he’d been considering a second job to help claw their way out of the current sea of debt they were drowning in. He was always in his head, he was having nightmares when he’d try to get to bed at a decent time. Panic attacks were occurring that even the weed couldn’t take the edge off. Questions of his future, questions of his worthiness of the people in his life — they’d all started to haunt the quiet corners of his room in the middle of the night. 

But they didn’t haunt these roads, this parking lot, this time spent with you. You’d enter his line of sight, and it all just shuts off.

“Is everything okay at home?” you gently press at his silence, eyes flickering up at him for only a moment before a finger mindlessly traces over one of his rings. 

No. “It’s… fine.” 

Last night, he’d nearly put a hole in the wall before he’d settled to curling into the center of his mattress until his knees and chest were familiar companions. Until the tears he’d tried to ignore turned into silent sobs and he’d eventually cried himself to sleep a mere hour before he needed to be awake again for work. 

“Just say the word,” you repeat yourself. He wants you to look at him again; it’s easier to breathe with your eyes on his, “Say the word, and… Fuck, I don’t know. We can both call out, just take a nap in the back of your shitty van.” 

And oh, he smiles at that. The thought of the two of you in the back of his shitty van, as you had so lovingly called it. He thinks if you two did that, he might just sleep well for the first time in weeks.

“We’re already here,” he shrugs and finally lifts his hand, patting at your jeans before he entirely retracts his touch. He tries to not ponder on the falter of your own hand, the way you had hesitated in letting him pull away, “But, for future reference, what is the word?” 

“Huh?”

“The word. What’s our code word for… just saying fuck it and taking a day for ourselves,” he explains. 

He hopes he isn’t overstepping a boundary. He hopes you weren’t just being polite.

You smile softly this time, something genuine shining through as you think for a minute before looking at him. This time, your gaze doesn’t falter as you whisper, “Mordor.” 

He can’t help it, he snorts. “Mordor? Have you even read Lord of the Rings?” 

“Nope,” you shake your head, still focused on him, still encouraging the air to enter his lungs finally and not even knowing it, “But I saw your copy on the back desk. Maybe that can be one of our fuck it activities — you read it to me or something. Make me into a nerd.” 

That imagery gets to him. Nearly makes him tear up. You and him, in the back of his van, your head on his chest as he reads his favorite book to you. He nearly screams mordor right then and there. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself, and that’s probably not what you meant, but he wants it. With each passing day that he spends around you, he finds himself wanting things like that more and more. 

You treat him differently than everyone else. You don’t climb into the car of the other openers, you don’t seem to let that painfully polite guard down with everyone else in the same fashion. Even Nicole had noticed it.

“She’s awfully soft for you,” she’d commented one morning as Eddie and her had been left alone as you went to the back to clean dishes before the store was open, “Out of all the people she could’ve gone mushy for, it’s you. Can’t figure out why for the life of me.”

He couldn’t either. But your tenderness you'd extended so easily to him fuels him, makes him yearn for it when you’re not around, makes him think maybe there’s a bigger reason for all of it. Or maybe, that’s just what friends are for.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer one of these days,” Eddie finally muses, leaning his head back and trying to smile with the same type of softness you offer him. Tries to make sure you know it goes both ways. Tries to communicate the fact that one of these days might just come sooner than either of you expect.

Your smile tells him the message is well received.

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[vesora]

imagining creates

one of the most important lectures in LOA

The creator of the world works in the depth of your soul, underlying all of your faculties, including perception and streams into your surface mind least disguised in the form of creative fancy. Watch your thoughts, and you will catch Him in the act of creating, for He is your very Self. Every moment of time you are imagining what you are conscious of, and if you do not forget what you are imagining and it comes to pass, you have found the creative cause of your world.

God is Pure Imagination

Because God is pure imagination and the only creator, if you imagine a state and bring it to pass, you have found Him. Remember: God is your consciousness, your I AM; so when you are imagining, God is doing it. If you imagine and forget what you imagine, you may not recognize your harvest when it appears. It may be good, bad, or indifferent, but if you forget how it came into being, you have not found God. You do not have to be rich to be happy but you must be imaginative. You could have great wealth and be afraid of tomorrow's needs, or have nothing and travel the world over, for all things exist in your own wonderful human imagination.

The Present Moment

The present moment is a formed imaginal act. I urge you to shape your world from within and no longer from without. Describe yourself as you would like to be seen by others and believe your words. Walk in the assumption they are true and - because no power can thwart God - what He is imagining, you will experience. You are not someone apart from God, for I AM cannot be divided. The Lord, our God, is one I AM, not two! If God's I AM and your I AM is the same I AM, define what you would like to be. Then believe you are the Lord!

This is how the law works. It never fails if you will go all out and believe that your human imagination is God. Because God cannot die, he is a God of the living! So when the garment you now wear comes to its end, you - the being living in it - will continue to live. You will still be in a world just like this one until you awaken from the dream of life. Then you will move into an entirely different age, to realize the oneness of the being that you really are. Until then, believe what I am telling you, for it is true.

Imagining for Others

When you imagine for a seeming other you are blessed, for there is no other and you are giving your imaginal gift to yourself! Hear your friend tell you his good news, see the joy on his face, feel the thrill of fulfillment, and let it take place in your world. And as it does, recognize your harvest. Realize you are responsible for its consummation. The world is yourself pushed out. Ask yourself what you want and then give it to yourself! Do not question how it will come about; just go your way, knowing that the evidence of what you have done must appear, and it will.

Change That Which You Dislike

Remember: you don't have to abide by anything you dislike. It is but a vessel in your hand which is not properly shaped. Go down to the potter's house and rework it into another vessel as it seems good for you, the potter, to do. You cannot only rework your concept of self into a new one, but you can rework another. If one is not well or does not earn enough to pay his expenses, the concept is misshapen. You don't ask the vessel if you may rework it, rather you feel as though you have witnessed the change or heard the good news.

There Must Be Action

There must be action, for an idea alone produces nothing. You must act within yourself by entering the idea. When someone calls or makes a request of you, you must act upon it by producing a motor element within yourself. It may be the sound of their voice telling you it has already happened. Or you may feel the touch of his hand. Whatever you do, it must be something that takes the desire from being an idea and moves it into the creative state of fulfillment.

You Are All Imagination

How is this mystery unraveled? By claiming you are all imagination. Then wrapping yourself in space, and mentally seeing your world relative to your assumed position in space. Do that and you have moved. President Hoover once said: "Human history, through its many forms of governments, its revolutions, its wars - in fact the rise and fall of nations - could be written in terms of the rise and fall of ideas implanted in the minds of men." Here you see that the change of governments is the result of the change of ideas implanted in the mind.

Implanting the Horrors of the World

Can you now see how we are implanting the horrors of the world? Read the morning paper, watch television, or listen to the radio, and you will observe how their words frighten you in order to get your attention. See a headline that someone was murdered and you stop to read it. See another, saying things are fine, and you ignore it, as it would mean nothing. Read the scandal sheet, telling of some prominent person who has been unfaithful and you enjoy a bit of gossip. All of these are ideas implanted in the mind, which cause the rise and fall of nations.

Imagining Creates Reality

I tell you: imagining creates reality! If you want to change your life you must become aware of the ideas you are planting in the mind of others! When you meet someone who is negative, put a lovely idea in its place. Then, whenever you think of him, imagine he is telling you something lovely. And, because you now walk in a world that is not disturbed by his negative state, when he finds himself no longer thinking negative thoughts, he will never know you were its source. You will know it and that is all that is important.

Thought Awareness

Become aware of the thoughts you are thinking and you will know a more pleasant life. It makes no difference what others do; plant loving, kind thoughts and you will be blessed in the doing. I ask you now to believe in the invisible God who became you. When you say "I am", you think of the face you wear, but you are not it. You are so much greater than it could ever be. I have disclosed the one and only source of the phenomena of life. Everything that has ever happened, is happening, or will happen to you, comes from God, who is your own wonderful human imagination. I urge you to use it wisely.

What Are You Imagining?

Imagining creates reality! Have you imagined something and it hasn't come to pass? Then what are you imagining right now? Are you imagining you are John Brown? You were not born knowing you were John Brown. You were born and others began to call you John. As time passed you began to assume you were John Brown and began to respond when you heard the name John. When you imagined being secure did you forget the feeling? Are you imagining you are secure now? You may have no evidence that you are secure, but as you allow others to tell you how much you are loved and wanted, how successful and famous you are, you will begin to assume it, and imagination will have created its reality. Try it, for that reality you already are!

[timetravellibrarian]

Zoro x reader

Platonic Sanji x reader

Some thoughts of our favourite cook with a friend just like him.

_________________________________________

"Hey Sanji~" (Y/n) said with a sing song voice. Both Strawhats stood side by side as they watched the ship decend even further underwater. The coating keeping everyone safe from being crushed by the pressure.

(Y/n) made sure to wear clothes that didn't reveal too much, opting to stay warm just as Robin had warned. Plus she didn't need her friend having a nosebleed.

"Where were you during the two years?" She asked, " You never told me."

Sanji looked traumatized. He held onto his chest to stop his heart from stopping at the horror-filled memories.

"I was in hell. Every second there was..." The poor man couldn't even finish his sentences. His face had gone deathly pale.

"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?" She asked. Concerned at what he had gone through.

🥘🔎🥘🔎🥘🔎🥘🔎🥘🔎🥘🔎🥘🔎🥘🔎

( Y/n ) watched as Sanji dived towards all the mermaids. She was honestly asking herself how she was friend with that pervert.

"Sometimes I really wanna know why me and that idiot over there are friends. Doesn't he have class?" She shook her head at his actions.

"Don't act all goody two shoes, you're both cut from the same cloth." Ussop judged the woman. His eyes squinted accusingly.

"HOW?!" (Y/n) reacted, shark shaped teeth bared. She was prepared to argue her case like a lawyer.

"Just a few minutes ago when we met up at Sabaody. Don't you remember?"

Flashback

"Looks like we're all finally here." (Y/n) said to herself.  Making sure to take count of everyone. She sat down and watched as the ship started going underwater. She could hear an argument between Zoro and Sanji.

"Just admit that you're outmatched number seven." Zoro smirked.

"Just because you got here first doesn't mean you're better than everybody!" Sanji yelled back, annoyed.

"I don't need to be better than everybody, just better than you."

'Oooohhhhhh. Sanji can't recover from that one. But I can. '

Just before (Y/n) could go rescue her friend, she took a good look at Zoro.  He seemed to have gotten taller and a lot more stronger in the last two years and that outfit change made wonders.

(Y/n)'s eyes turned to hearts. Ussop was able to catch this transformation live. His eyes widening at the speed.

"ZOROOOOOOOO~" She began, twirling toward the swordsman. Sanji's cigarette dropped of its own accord. The love tornado nearing in their direction looked dangerous.

"Huh?" Zoro caught sight of the approaching tornado. Well, sh*t.

Unbeknownst to them Nami had tapped Robin's shoulder so they could see the event about to take place.

The tornado caught Sanji and threw him to the side gently before slowing to a stop.

A rose was held up to Zoro as (Y/n) kneeled with one knee on the ground. Flowers had magically appeared around the Sunny  and  sparkles shone around the woman's eyes.

"Roronoa Zoro, you look as gorgeous as ever," she began. " No man in the world could be as handsome as you. The heavens took their time to carefully craft you and believe me, I adore the results."

Sanji's mouth fell to the floor from where he had graciously landed. He couldn't believe the betrayal.

"Get away from me, woman!" Zoro yelled but he didn't seem to shoo her away. Instead his cheeks had lightly dusted with some light pink. He averted his eyes grumbling to himself.

"You don't seem to want me to go away though," she smirked at him leaning forward till their noses nearly touched. She was on her tippy toes.  Her index finger and thumb kept his head in place so he couldn't escape.

Zoro froze in shock. This woman will be the death of me.

Sanji tornadoed towards the two and stole (Y/n) away leaving Zoro discombobulated and slightly flustered. Even after two years of everyone not seeing each other, the woman still managed to have an effect on him.

Flashback over

"That was one time!"  She tried to defend herself.

"Oh really, some of the things you say and do are more questionable that what Sanji does." Ussop continued.

"Like?" The woman crossed her arms, waiting for the sniper's explanation.

FLASHBACK

"If those guys weren't trying to hurt Big sis Robin, I woulda said smash."

Everyone at the train looked at her in shock. She was just looking outside and watching the perilous waves of Aqua Laguna with a dejected sigh.It seemed she was voicing her thoughts out loud.

When she caught their eyes on her she shrugged,"What? Just saying it like it is. But if they do hurt Robin I'm ready to up my kill count."

Another time

"Where did you get all those ropes Paulie," (Y/n) questioned the man. Everyone in the sea train was busy with their own thing but some were wondering the same thing. "It's kinda creepy."

"Well I–" he tried to defend himself but was interrupted.

"Creepy, but kinky."😏

Zoro pulled the woman away from Paulie and trapped her between his arms and placing her on his lap, effectively stopping her from talking. 'No.'

"SHE'S SO BOLD!" Both the Galley La and Franky Family yelled.

Nami smiled to herself. Ussop owed her a lot of money.

(The bet was how long she could go without saying something risky)

Another time

(Y/n) watched as Zoro brought Chopper back from nearly being eaten by sky sharks."Chopper are you alright?" For once the woman wasn't being a tornado, her eyes showed the worry for her reindeer friend.

"He'll be alright." Zoro stated. He took of his t-shirt. And went to find a new one.

He took of the shirt?!

He took it off.

(Y/n) froze. A war raged between her heart and mind. Turn around to look or have some decency and not look. She started sweating. Nami caught sight of her unusual posture and shook her which ended up making (Y/n) have a glimpse of Zoro changing into a blue vest in her peripheral.

"(Y/n) what's wrong, are you alright?"

The woman fainted. Well, not exactly. She was still awake but had hearts flying around her and her face was super warm.

"I think  Ms Spy is a little too excited from seeing our swordsman here. " Robin diagnosed. A chuckle escaping her lips.

"Seriously you and that ero-cook are  just unbelievable." Zoro sighed in annoyance.

"But what's that red colour on your fac3?" Chopper pointed out, basically snitching on Zoro.

Another time

"Guys this is my brother Ace." Luffy announced. 

"Ace here's my crew. Nami's the navigator, Zoro's the swordsman and also my firstmate, Chopper's the doctor , Sanji is the cook and (Y/n) is the spy."

Ace had taken a look at every one before meeting eyes with (Y/n). It seemed that Sanji had already placed tape on her mouth and had tied her up. All that anyone could see was the woman's heart shaped eyes.

Everyone breathed out a sigh of relief much to Ace's confusion and Zoro's irritation.

Flashback over

"In short, that's why you two are best friends."Ussop concluded, pointer finger in the air and a whiteboard behind with various drawings of the scenes . "Plus you two are great at combat when paired."

(Y/n) was walking away from Ussops lesson. "WHERE ARE YOU GOING?"

"I'm gonna find Zoro,"

"With what?"

"MY LOVE COMPASS OF COURSE!" The woman said as she twirled away with hearts revolving around her.Ussop sighed at her antics.

"ZORO-SWEET! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

[choso-onii-chan]

Time to do an in-depth Analysis about some Choso things i wanna talk about for a long time now:

We know that he and his siblings, the Death Paintings, were aborted and turned into Cursed Objects. In the official Anime Guide it stated that the fetuses where made into Cursed Objects "after their death" (> abortion), but we know that they where concious over all those years, even able to become aware of their own Cursed Techniques (at least in Choso's case) and somehow even train them (also, did Choso knew the names of all his Techniques because that information was kinda engraved into him, together with Blood Manipulation itself?). Someone's theory was that Choso might actually had a Domain Expandion, with which he trained himself in Blood Manipulation while being sealed, which would actually makes sense and would be very cool!!!

Now about his Cursed Object Form: I believe that, obviously, only their original bodies died and Kenjaku somehow secured their Souls and PROBABLY used their dead fetus' bodies (corpse) as basis for the Cursed Object and put their Souls "back" into their transformed "bodies". I mean, somehow Choso must've had some kind of blood by his side. And Sukuna was turned into a Cursed Object that was made our of parts of his original body (his Fingers) too.

And about the whole Incarnation Stuff: We know, the Vessel has to ingest the Cursed Object, which contents Choso's Soul. The Vessel's brain will be overwritten with the existence of the Soul of the Cursed Object, and if the Vessel is weak (which is the case in here), the appereance of the Vessel changes to the one of the Soul of the Cursed Object. In Choso's case, he never had an developed body yet, but things like hair-, eye- and skincolor and other genetic stuff where still in his (part human) DNA and that overwrote the one of the Vessel, which led to the Body change to Choso's own appereance (how he also would've looked if he would've been able to grow-up like a normal human).

About his blood mark/mark/"tattoo", we know that it is a part of him (it's actually very similar to a birthmark), he was born with, and it is completely connected to his Cursed Technique of Blood Manipulation, since we saw young Noritoshi develope a similar red/black mark on his right eye when using Flowing Red Scale. But in Choso's case it's permanently on his face and i believe that this might be because of his curse DNA, it's the only thing about him (his pale skin and eye bags/circles or just swollen eyes might also be of that reason, but can also have different reasons) that makes him look more "unnatural", the only sign of him being partly curse. FUN FACT: the shape of his Mark strongly resembles the japanese Kanji for "one", 一 ichi, which might be a referance to Choso being the First Born of the Death Paintings.

And, when the Cursed Object is ingested and the whome Body changes, does the Vessel's Blood just only get's "overwritten" by Choso's, or does it "vanish" and get's "filled up with Choso's Blood?

[herstuf]

Spider-verse little theories/thoughts I had following seeing the movie:

The spider that bit miles might be dead but it’s been preserved which means it’s dna is still there which means earth-42 miles could still become a spider-man.

Hobie has been stealing tech since the beginning because he never trusts establishments and has his own happy little tech lair full of everything the band would need to fight Miguel

Miles wasn’t supposed to be a spider man so canon events don’t apply to him. Miguel knows this and is bitter about it and that is why he is SO angry at Miles specifically.

Miguel’s choice to take over another Miguel’s life is like fucked up for a lot of reasons but the most glaring one to me is did he sleep with that Miguel’s wife while pretending to be the Miguel that died? That is beyond fucked I don’t even have the words for it.

Earth-42 Miles had more tech than Uncle Aaron’s prowler. What if he is already aware of the multiverse/spider-verse but just hasn’t been able to get it going. Likely because that world doesn’t have a collider since there’s no Spider-Man to fight to lose Kingpin’s family over and create the series of events for it?

Alternatively he was bit, is a spider-man, but he lost his dad in the collider fight and it changed him differently from how it changed the other spidermen. (Not sold on this one but it did pop into my head)

Not totally a theory mostly just an observation: Earth-42 is older. By the grey and Uncle Aaron’s hair and the slightly more mature shape of that Miles’s face and height I believe it is at least 2-4 years ahead of our Miles’s time.

We also don’t know immediately that Prowler Miles is evil. The possibility of all the glitches and villains appearing in wrong universes means it could have happened in that universe. Means that he could have fought them. While he might not be a hero in the way we think of Spider-Man he could be more of an anti hero, such as Eddie Brock or even Batman.

Speaking of Eddie Brock: he’s now jumped to the MCU’s spider world, earth 616(?), and now The Spot has travelled to his. This connects them more and implies either that there will be a spider-man in Eddie’s universe, OR, that Venom himself counts as the Spider-Man of that universe, which then tosses Miguel’s Canon Events theories out of the water.

How many anomaly spider-peeps are there. Miguel is hung up on Mikes for being bitten by a spider from another universe and leaving that universe without one, but is he the only one? If every universe is creating colliders, exploring the multiverse, it stands to reason that The Spot exists as a scientist in other universes and could cause the same situation to happen. Miguel’s technology seems to imply he can see all in the multiverse but how can that be possible in a world of infinite universes? He must have missed something at some point.

If there were two Miguel’s there could be more. If we operate on the theory that each (large) decision has two paths then each time a “canon” character makes a choice another universe must be created where they made the opposite choice. If Miguel’s theory about canon events collapsing universes is unilaterally correct, then how many have collapsed before? How many are collapsing as they speak? How would they know?

In the comics Hobie is the prowler before thinking he killed spider-man, changing, and then becoming Spider-Man himself (I think, correct me if I’m remembering wrong because it has been years). As far as Miguel’s theories go does that make him an anomaly since there should only be one Spider-Man per universe, or is that the path his universe and others identical to Hobie’s are meant to take?

Please someone talk to me about this movie

[cyren-myadd]

Let's talk about the first look at Avatar 3 (pt 1)

🚨SPOILER WARNING FOR AVATAR 3 UNDER THE CUT!🚨

Last night at D23, James Cameron unveiled the very first real sneak peek of Avatar 3: Fire and Ash. I honestly wasn't expecting to get anything more than a title or synopsis, so I was so stoked when I saw the concept art they shared! I posted the images here last night, but I was too hyped up to think straight so I decided to wait a bit and process everything before talking about it. Now I'm ready to share my thoughts on each of the four images!

First off, we have Varang leading the Ash People on the backs of flying creatures!

The Ash People appear to be very similar to Forest People, with thin builds, blue skin, and big yellow eyes. However, I believe their skin is slightly paler and/or duller than the Forest People, it's hard to tell with the lighting. In the other picture of we have of Varang, they also appear to have long, sharp claws, and shorter, slightly thicker tails that are completely hairless. So even though they're overall pretty similar to Na'vi we've already seen before, they do have different physical traits, they're just not as drastically different as the Reef People. I'm excited to see how their different physiques help them in their environment! Perhaps they spend a lot of time climbing on rock, so they evolved big claws, and maybe they don't need long, thin tails to balance while swinging through trees, so their tails changed shape over time.

Just like their riders, the Ash People's also mounts appear similar to their forest banshee cousins, but with a few differences. The "Ash Banshee" looks paler and thinner than forest banshees and I notice it has a lot more of the dragonfly like sections on their wings. This might make them more agile in the air, able to adjust the shape of their wings to pull of more drastic turns than forest banshees can. In the real world, bats are much more agile in the air than birds because bats have more bones in their wings that allow them to change the wing's shape as they fly. The ash banshee also looks like it has some kind of a horn on its head as well as little fleshy tendrils on the sides of its face. I hope we get to see an aerial battle between ash and forest banshees!

Varang herself looks very stunning and intimidating with that dramatic red headdress and war paint. It reminds me of the frill some species of lizards use to frighten enemies- varang's frill probably has a similar purpose. She also appears to be wearing skin-tight black pants, probably something similar to the purple leg guards Neytiri wears during long flights. I also see the tip of a bow peeking out from behind Varang. If Varang uses a bow, I hope we get to see a showdown between her and our favorite archer, Neytiri!

The Ash Na'vi also all appear to have their kurus intact, so that disproves the theory that they would cut off their kurus because they hate Eywa. But speaking of them hating Eywa, I notice the warrior directly to Varang's left is carrying a large gun, which means the Ash People know how to use guns and are okay with doing it. The logical conclusion from this is that someone is supplying them with guns and/or teaching them how to use them. Either they're stealing from the RDA and teaching themselves, or Quaritch has taught them to use human weapons. Another possibility is that Jake reached out to them to join the war effort and taught them human weaponry, but they ended up turning on him.

In BTS footage, we've seen both Quaritch and Neytiri seemingly dressed in Ash People clothing, so it's possible that Quaritch or Jake and co. have tried to ally themselves with the Ash People.

The last thing of note in the picture is that this is likely our first look at the Ash Na'vi's homeland. Sadly, since we're looking at the sky, there's not much we can tell other than that it's cloudy and there's rocky formations in the background. Maybe the Ash People live in the rock formations.

What do you guys think of this image? Are there any details I missed?

[beegalactica]

Comparison is the thief of joy.

In a world where it seems like everyone else is doing so much better than you, how do you stop comparing yourself to them? You know it's unhealthy and unhelpful but you just can't seem to help it. Don't worry, I've been there and I know exactly what it's like.

Why We Compare Ourselves

Whether we're comparing our appearance; from our eyes to our hair, to even the shape of our fingers; or the grades that we get; the outfits we wear; or the person we are; I believe comparison stems from our insecurities. We may feel like we're not enough in our own right, so we look for people we think are better than us to justify it.

For me over this past week, I've been comparing myself a lot, and that's fine. I can be this confident and self-assured person, but I I still have moments where I don't feel like that - it's just how life works.

My first point of comparison was with a grade that I got in class. I got the second highest and of course, the first thing that popped into my mind was not how good I did on my own, but what I didn't do that relegated me to second place. Reflection is great for improving and bettering yourself, but you know that it has crossed the point into harmful comparison when you start to think: "I'm better than this person at x, y and z so how could they do better than me here?" We often resort to mentally trying to put the other person down so we don't feel so alone 'below' them, but that perpetuates unnecessary negativity.

My second point of comparison had to do with my 'love life'. There is a guy that I like, but we didn't work out, and now the thought of him possibly getting with someone else made me feel so low. It felt like a rejection in the worst way. It felt like the world was saying to me that "I wasn't good enough", not that the timing wasn't right or that it just wasn't meant to be. Obviously, I spent a lot of my time looking at the girl, thinking about all the ways she was prettier than me, taller than me, skinnier than me, etc. I started trying to pull her down in my mind, thinking of all the flaws that she 'had', to hide the fact that I was just insecure that I wasn't enough on my own.

But I refuse to let these events take a toll on my mental health and turn me into a bitter, jealous person because I know that I'm better than that, and I know that you are too.

How To Stop Comparing Yourself

To be honest, I don't know if I can ever get to a point where nothing can faze me at all, because I am human at the end of the day. What I do know is ways to cope and stop myself from spiralling as a result:

Accept the situation - accept the fact that it is what it is. I believe that things happen in life to teach me a lesson or to show me how I can come out of it stronger, and the first step in that journey is to accept that it happened. If things are meant to work out in the end, they will.

Plan your next steps - what are you going to do to give yourself peace of mind? In my case, I'll just have to work harder but also learn to congratulate myself more for the things that I do. I will also have to take some time to figure out why I have these insecurities and work on ways to uplift myself.

Affirm, affirm, affirm - I believe positive affirmations are amazing because who knows you better than you? If I say that I am a smart, hardworking person who is perfect just the way they are, who dares to tell me that I'm not? If I say that I am enough, how can anyone prove that I'm not? Sometimes your biggest enemy can really be your self-concept, but you need to train it to face setbacks and use them to further prove that you are above it all based on the way you deal with it.

Don't act out - don't become a hateful person. It can be hard because we think that it is the only thing that will make us feel better, but it makes us the same as all those other people who seek to pull others down to uplift themselves. Don't let a temporary event change your character.

Comparison is inevitable because the way that our world works is rooted in competition - who is the best? who is the prettiest? who is the smartest? But if you can answer all of those questions saying that you are, then don't let little things get you down. Life is all about growing and evolving, but don't forget to take a moment to celebrate your strengths and remind yourself of just how amazing you are.

You are enough.

I am enough.

[clus444]

John P. (90-day fiance)

Based on the show. I thought it was a fun idea. enjoy!! This will be slightly inaccurate since there is a lot of visa stuff that I don't know. Will it turn into a series, who knows?

*Thump thump thump thump*

Don't be irrational, don't be irrational..... Shit.

I feel my heart beating in my ass. My palms are sweaty, my chest feels tight, and I just hope I don't pass out. What if he changes his mind? What if he doesn't like what he sees anymore? What if, what if, what if. So many whats and no answers. Y/n get your shit together. I'm going to get off this plane and meet my fiance. If he didn't like me, he wouldn't have asked to marry me!

*Ding!* It's showtime.

I met John on a work trip to London. I was bored in a bar and John's eyes found me multiple times that night. His gaze lit me up like the Fourth of July. He sent me over a drink and of course, who was I to turn that down. I lifted the drink in thanks and shot him my most charming smile. He grins and walks over to me.

The rest is history. Within 21 days he proposed to me on a walk through Kensington Gardens (A real place, but I'm adding to it). We were walking where swans idly swim by, lights decorated the sidewalk to light up the path, and there was a flower stand not that far away from us. "Stay here," He kisses my lips before walking forward.

I look at the water to watch the baby swans lazily follow their mother. My heart warms when I see a black swan circle the mother. They bend their necks down slightly and lean beaks on each other as they gracefully swim. The shape of their necks creates a heart and I feel as if the universe is trying to tell me something. Swans mate once in their life, when they meet their other half it's truly their other half. I look back at John to see him make his way to me.

Is he my half? From the moment I saw him, I felt an energy change though subtle it was there. When I looked into his eyes I saw pass the protector, the hardened war hero, and the lonely man who sits by himself. I saw someone who restricted himself from leaning on someone. I saw someone who didn't need to be fixed but supported. John's gone his whole life being the shoulder to cry on, the helping hand, the man with the plan. Is wrong to want to be the one he leans on?

A grin is on his face and must be infectious because I can't contain the smile that grows on mine. I'd marry him if I could, god I would give him an army if he asked. But I'm here for work and well John? Im not quite sure. "My mother and father used to bring us here sometimes because it's where he proposed. This garden has a prominent price family history here. I can't help but think I would be making a mistake if I didn't do the same," he drops to one knee and I look at him shocked.

"Umm- John?" I ask and look around before he grabs my hand.

"When I saw you at the bar, you not only took my breathe away but the very darkness that clouds my mind. Darling, my heart starves for you and I don't want to be full. My favorite feature about you is your hands...you can create something out of nothing. Your hands have this power over me. They hold our future, they give your brain a creative outlet, and most importantly they hold our love. I just want to be the support beam," He finishes off and slides a plain silver band off the flower stems. "I'll get you a better ring tomorrow, this is all he had and I did;t want to wait any longer. Will you marry me," He asks.

I step off the plane and twirl and ring around my finger. I truly can't believe this is happening. Most of me feel excited for this new chapter of my life. I feel lucky to have John by my side, appreciative. Though if you asked him he's the lucky one. I just hope he doesn't get cold feet or worse.

I walk until I find where to grab my bag. I haul it out and begin walking to the cafe inside the airport. I order a small tea with lemon and honey. My phone buzzes.

Pornstache- Ass is getting fatter, Definitely my doing.

I laugh and turn around to try to spot John. I see a tan bucket hat first and my man second. I put my stuff down and speedwalk to him. I aggressively grab his shirt and pull him to me. He quickly responds and cuffs the back of my head to kiss me deeper. I moan and he pulls back,"My wife is here, finally."

I giggle like a catholic school girl, who has just shown her ankle to the newspaper boy. I twirl a strand of hair between my fingers. "It appears so, though the wedding is in 90 days," I grab his hand to pick up my tea from where I left it on the table. He grabs my bag and we start on our way to the exit.

"I almost forgot to tell you. We got a full house when we get home," I hear him say that and look at him. I almost forgot about meeting his family. The only thing I can do now is nod and smile.

(I wanted to end it there but I love smut yall! I have a problem!)

On the ride to his house, I feel John slide his hand over my thigh. I squeeze before opening them slightly. He smirks and rubs circles with his thumb on my right left thigh. We glance at each other and I give him a cheeky smile. His hands slip into my pants and panties. His forefinger traces my folds lightly parting them to get to my pearl.

He draws fast circles on my clit and I push my hips forward. I moan and lay my head on the headrest. My clit surges vibrations all throughout my body. I can feel a second heartbeat where his fingers beatbox on my clit. The nerves that were tightly winding up my chest slowly dissipated. My breathing shortend for other reasons now and not panic. "I wanna test her so bad. Can tell she's been missing me, poor thing," he talks to my pussy.

She responds in clenches as I feel his thick, rough fingers enter my slippery folds. "mmmmm," I hum out and start rocking against his hand to cum faster. "Please, I wanna come," I beg for him to not tease. To give me this release and let my mind fill with thoughts of nothing. He grins and adds a finger then starts angling up. I arch my back and my heart pounds in rhythm to my pussy.

This is going to be a long ride.

Masterlist

John - Soap - Gaz - Simon

[hezzabeth]

Everyone who lived on Baker Street had come out from the fog to eat Nanni’s dinner. This made perfect sense; Nanni was one of the few people in the park who knew how to cook meals using ingredients and an oven.

When the park was still open, Revati's home was a coffee shop called the “Mad Hatter Teaparty.” The walls were painted in eye-watering clashing shades of neon pink and green. The light fixtures hanging from the ceiling were all giant velvet top hats. The booths were giant flower teacups with tiny chairs and tables inside.

"Was there some sort of drug in the pineapple?" Revati heard Brigadeiro ask. Revati just ignored him and instead walked past each of the booths, collecting tributes; nobody ate Nanni’s for free.

The Paprikas sat in the blue and gold teacup, their neon orange hair clashing with the paint. The Paprikas were two brothers and their sister who had found themselves trapped in the park as children. Their parents had been vaporized by a towel-warming rack. Now they were in their mid-twenties and worked for Revati as hired muscle for free dinners.

"Who's the new guy? He's actually clean and good-looking," the youngest brother Brie asked Revati. "His name is Brigadeiro Bun; he's an off-world tourist who stupidly went to the wasteland," Revati said. "I was trying to find crystal roses," Brigadeiro smiled helpfully.

"Bridgadeiro huh? So your parents were Goup worshippers then?" The sister, Juniper, asked curiously. Revati vaguely knew that Goupism was a popular religion on other colonies. Over a thousand years ago, there was once a woman who apparently traveled the earth gathering the best health practices needed to be “happy.” "A white woman, and she stole most of her ideas from our eastern religions," Amma, who was a staunch atheist, had snapped with annoyance when Revati asked her to explain the Paprika siblings' religion. Still, despite her thievery, at some point, she had become a god. They firmly believed in things such as “psychic vampires” and “color-balancing therapy.” They also all had peculiar food-related names, mainly because the goddess had named her daughter Apple.

"Yes, they were. They insisted on coming here for a Wellness Day holiday," the eldest brother, Croquette, growled. "I miss mama's Wellness Day Avocado and chocolate cookies," Juniper sighed sadly. "It's not the same, but here I have a couple of factory-made ones in my pocket," Brigadeiro said, crawling into the booth. The Paprika siblings gasped with astonishment as he pulled a packet of cookies wrapped in gold paper out of his jumpsuit's gigantic pocket. "They got a bit crushed when I was kidnapped, but they're still good," he said, opening the package and placing it on the table. The Paprika siblings stared at the cookies, their mouths slack with shock. Croquette slowly shook his head, completely snatched the package, and began to serve the crushed crumbs amongst his siblings. "You need to keep this one forever," Juniper said firmly, and Revati just shook her head, moving onto the next table.

The next table consisted of the elderly Gupta couple. "You adopted another kid? If you want more water for him, we want more dried apples," Mrs. Gupta said, a small scowl on her wizened face. It was Mr. Gupta who had figured out how to gather and purify water from the atmosphere. It was Mrs. Gupta who managed and recorded all the water they collected, rolling it out like a tyrannical dictator. "Fine, one extra package of dried apples per week," Revati said before swishing grandly onwards.

Amma was sitting in the pink cup, her new partner Dusk Brisbane. Dusk Brisbane was a teacher from Titan, who, along with their students on a field trip, found themselves stuck in the park. Like all people from Titan, Dusk had inherited the ability to rapidly change biological genders. Titan had also inherited a name that meant a time of day and a gender. Dusk’s remaining students were sitting with Dityaa on a large cat-shaped sofa. When the invasion began, there were twenty-three of them. Now there were only five nineteen-year-olds left. Dityaa was holding court over all of them, sitting on a couch shaped like a giant grinning beast. "Your sister said you had an interesting night," Amma remarked as Revati sat down next to her. Nanni had laid out a plate of aloo mushroom curry. Revati picked up a piece of hardtack and dipped it into the sauce, refusing to talk. "So you're not even going to bother telling your side of the story?" Amma asked as Revati swallowed. Nanni always moaned that her cooking was so much better before the war. Years ago, Nanni worked in the city as a professional meal prepper for wealthy families that wanted to eat real organic food.

Nanni was proud of her ability to create one hundred percent sand-free meals using the most exotic ingredients. Nanni would bemoan to everyone that her meals were now a mess, that her spices were too basic, and that she never had enough salt. Revati, however, who had never tried anything else, thought her food was delicious. "I'm hungry! Besides, what's the point in telling my side? I'm sure Dityaa's story was more enthralling," Revati replied. "Every story needs both sides and the truth," Dusk remarked. As they spoke, their features shifted from a feminine middle-aged woman's face to a man's face with a beard. "You're not my creative writing teacher, and you're not my parent," Revati pointed out.

Revati knew deep down she didn’t dislike Dusk; Dusk was a perfectly decent person. Not to mention Amma had been so lonely until Dusk offered to help her teach the feral children a year ago. Still, it was a lot to get used to.

“True, but your mother did ask you a question, and I think she deserves an answer," Dusk replied in that same mild diplomatic voice. Revati deliberately ate another mouthful of curry before wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. "Dityaa got attacked by some lady at the ball; the chutiya had A.I. eye implants! They must have switched on somehow," Revati explained. "Mind your mouth, Revati! There will be no swearing at the dinner table," Amma scolded her. "Her implants switched on? That's so odd; one of my students had AI tastebuds, but they stopped working the second we walked into the park," Dusk remarked, their face shifting back into a woman's as they glanced at one of their students. The student in question, Basil Paris, was sitting next to Dityaa, licking their hand. Dusk was right; in order to create true "historical authenticity," the park was surrounded by massive mirrors. The volcanic Martian glass blocked the "AI" life stream. "And what did you do?" Amma asked in a quiet, nervous voice. "I threw a glass of vodka at her face, and her eyes fried up," Revati replied.

"Can you take the children's sign language lesson tomorrow morning? I need to check the mirrors around the walls," Amma said to Dusk.

"Of course," Dusk replied, and Revati rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to do anything, Amma! I'm the elected leader of Baker Street! This is my job," Revati said firmly.

"You're only seventeen!" Amma protested.

"Almost everyone voted for me! Well, apart from Mrs. Gupta, who voted for herself," Revati said, and mother sighed.

"Fine! But you're not going to leave well after the sun rises, and you're not taking Cora and Laila! You can take Vivienne and Jay Jr.," Mother replied firmly.

Nine minutes past midnight.

Revati's eyes snapped open in the blue-glowing darkness. Slowly, she sat up, taking in the familiar shapes of the kitchen's walk-in freezer. Dityaa was sleeping next to her on the souvenir pillows Amma had sewn together into a makeshift bed. In the corner, the feral children slept together in a nest made of old soft toys. Nanni was snoring on one of the plastic shelves that had long ago stored ice cream. Amma insisted on them all sleeping behind the massive metal doors. To anyone who lived near any other planet, it would have been freezing, but Martians had evolved to withstand the cold.

Revati stood up and glanced down at Dityaa. Dityaa had worn her new dress to bed, ignoring the stains. The blood on her dress looked shiny black, her face shadowy blue. She looked just like Princess Savitri in the family book of fairy tales. Revati, on the other hand, had changed into her pajamas, which consisted of a long-sleeved men's shirt three sizes too big. The red fabric hung to her knees, and the words "Olde Landon Halloweenfest 3544" had been printed across the front. Revati picked up her blanket, draping it around her shoulders. Sleep wasn't going to return any time soon. Revati reached underneath her part of the mattress until she found the stories.

Outside the metal doors, Revati could hear distant voices, and carefully she slid the door open. Amma and Dusk were sitting together on the cat-shaped couch, murmuring to each other over tea.

"I don't see how they could know..." Amma began, and then she trailed off, spotting Revati.

"Insomnia again?" She asked gently, and Revati nodded, walking past the two of them.

"If you're going up to the greenhouse, be quiet; I made a bed for the boy up there," Mother replied.

"Really, Amma? You couldn't give him a bed?" Revati asked, opening the front door.

"He would freeze in the fridge, and he said he liked plants," Mother replied.

Outside, the fog was still shifting, and Revati moved ten spaces to the right.

"Evening, boss," Juniper's voice called, and she suddenly appeared holding a jar filled with glowing mushrooms.

"Any problems?" Revati asked.

"Nope, it's been a pretty quiet night!" Juniper said.

"Good, make sure your brother takes over your shift! We don't want you fainting from sleep deprivation again," Revati replied.

[faithinus]

Quality Time

Joe Quinn x Reader 🤍

Summary: Reader is long distance with Joe while he is working on a big project. He becomes more distant over time and reader is growing tired of the communication issues. Angst ensues. 

Disclaimers: Some arguing, suggested alcohol misuse, discussions of mental health, and classic relationship hurt. Also some fluffy domestic!boyfriend!Joe simply because I wanted to :))))

Word count: 3.6K

__________________________________________

“That place had the best carbonara in the city no doubt.” You made a mental note to move the aforementioned restaurant to the top of your list of rustic Italian favorites. 

“I can barely move now. I can’t believe we finished all those courses.” Joe clutched his stomach with one hand and threw his head back dramatically.

 Hand in hand with Joe, you strolled around the block. Walks after dinner were so peaceful. You and Joe were the kind of couple that didn’t have to say much. The feeling of intertwined fingers. The sound of two pairs of shoes clicking on the sidewalk. It was more than enough. 

You and Joe had made a habit of trying a new restaurant every week or so. It was fun to be tourists in your own city and keep a running list of the best dishes. You relished finding a hole in the wall, those that were yet to be overhyped by internet reviews. The hidden gems could still be claimed as your little secret. 

With Joe’s newfound fame, it was hard to get away from the media sometimes. You loved seeing his face on TV, social media, and god he looked good in print, but you enjoyed him most sitting right in front of you. Undivided attention was the love language of your relationship. Date night was a golden opportunity to turn your phones on silent and just forget about the masses. Not having to cook or clean up made the night feel luxurious. Something about a corner booth allowed you shut out the rest of the world. 

Your steps fell into a rhythm and you looked up at the sky. Too many city lights drowned out the stars. The only notable shape was a waning moon.

“We should go somewhere in the country,” you whispered. “I wish we could see the stars.”

Joe hummed in agreement.

“I wonder which constellations there are this time of year.” You tilted your head and squint your eyes, but it was no help.

Joe didn’t answer. While you were busy looking at the moon, he was lost looking at you.

__________________________________________

“One more day” you sighed. 

Joe left to film a new project tomorrow and there was a certain heaviness in the air. It’s conflicting to feel proud and unhappy at the same time. This movie was a huge win for Joe’s career, but also a stressful undertaking. In two years, you had never been away from him for more than a month at a time. That was about to change. 

You sat on top of the kitchen counter, legs hanging over the edge. Joe stood steady, feet planted next to you on the granite. He reached up to the ceiling to unscrew the main light fixture. Household appliances never failed to break at the worst times. You were disappointed but not surprised that your final hours together were spent doing last minute projects around the house. 

“I know, darling. As soon as we finish this we can do anything you want... hold this please.” He passed a light bulb down to you. 

As much as you didn’t like having to do chores on your last day together, there was something comforting about it. It was so domestic. You loved being a homeowner with Joe. You got to take care of something and make it your own. Even if everything went wrong, you were a team.

“It’s okay, Joe. I kinda like this.”

He looked down at you, eyebrows raised like you had just said something untoward. “What do you mean you like this? Our light keeps flickering like a haunted mansion.” 

“No, I just like your company. Besides, you look hot when you work,” you said matter-of-factly. 

“Is that right?”

It was. When you were sitting at Joe’s feet, you had an entirely new view of him. Based on the way his chest moved, you could tell that his breath slowed when he was focused. His jaw tensed in concentration. Joe’s hands looked stupidly angelic toying with the glass fixture. When he lifted his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt raised just enough above his hips. How alluring.

Joe’s hand reached down to you, palm open, signaling for you to hand the light bulb back to him. 

You started to pass it to him but paused with your hand halfway to his. “You should tell photographers what a great angle this is for you,” you teased.

Joe rolled his eyes and laughed softly. “If all you are going to do is sit there and ogle at me, does that make me your sexy electrician?”

“Only if I can be your sexy assistant.”

“Deal.” 

__________________________________________

Five weeks had passed since Joe left. You were at the halfway mark and already completely over the long-distance setup. Being alone isn’t inherently lonely. Independence can be freeing, but there is a difference between independence and separation. 

Joe is the kind of person that makes you feel both his presence and his absence.

There was no one to welcome you home from work. You almost made the mistake of announcing your presence as you walked through the front door. By the time you opened your mouth, you remembered no one was going to respond. When you sat down to watch TV, the couch felt alarmingly empty. Suddenly, you regretted turning down Joe’s request for a pet. 

No one played music and waltzed around the kitchen with you. No one snuck up behind you and set their chin on your shoulder while you heated oil in the saucepan. Pouring a glass of wine alone felt more like medicating than celebrating. 

In an effort to cheer yourself up, you took a group of friends out to a restaurant you tried with Joe. Turns out five star carbonara tastes different in the company of different people.

At first, Joe was adjusting seamlessly to long distance communication. He acted the same as he would if he was only gone for a week or two. You two were texting throughout the day and speaking on video calls every night. The third week on set got really busy, but Joe still talked to you before bed without fail. Seeing his face, even through a screen, was reassurance that everything was going to be fine. 

At the end of the first month, contact became more sporadic. Joe didn’t pick up when you called one night. The only plausible explanation was that he running a little late, so you waited patiently for his reply. You smiled thinking of how apologetic he would be when he finally got home. Another two hours passed. StiIl, you gave Joe the benefit of the doubt. He was working so hard and you couldn’t blame him for conditions out of his control. Surely he would shoot you a text any minute now, telling you how wild his day had been. 

Your notifications stayed painfully dry as time passed. You fell asleep with your phone still resting in your palm. 

Vibrations against the mattress are what woke you the next morning. Still bundled up between the sheets, you picked up. A black screen was staring back at you instead of what you hoped would be another pair of sleepy eyes.

“Joe, I can’t see you.”  

“Sorry love, we are rushing to grab breakfast! Don’t want to give you motion sickness!” he chuckled and closed a car door on the other end.

Joe’s use of the word we elicited immediate disappointment. The lack of privacy made you feel less free to speak. You shifted uncomfortably, moving away from the sight of the phone camera. Maybe no one else was watching, but you didn’t want to risk it. Laying in bed with deep bags under your eyes wasn’t the ideal way to meet Joe’s co stars for the first time. 

The calls went on like that for a few days. He was always running out the door, pastry halfway in his mouth, spewing apologies on the way. A handful of cast and crew were in the background. You never spoke longer than the length of a car ride.

Joe kept calling with his camera off.

This week you couldn’t get ahold of him, despite your best efforts. Every time you called you received the same answers:

Long hours on set tonight. Miss you Xx

Early call time tomorrow! Sorry love! 

Hair and makeup needs me at 4:00am... Mornings aren’t gonna work this week

You laid in bed staring at the messages. Your eyes watered from the blue light burning your eyes. That or you just wanted a really good excuse to tear up. The most recent sent text mocked you:

Got a minute to chat?

And below it, [text read thirty minutes ago].

__________________________________________

You didn’t see the photos until the next day when you were sat on your lunch break. Each one looked harmless on its own, but there were SO many. You paused with a fork lifted halfway to your mouth, shocked at the length of the Twitter thread you were reading. 

In light of the lack of direct communication, you had secretly hoped that searching Joe’s name on socials would give you a glimpse of what he was up to. However, you didn’t expect Twitter to serve you an explanation for Joe’s absence on a silver platter. It was too easy. 

The posts started out as photos of Joe entering a bar of some kind. They were a bit blurry from being taken by a passerby across the street. Yet, they were definitely of him. The white dress shirt and chocolate brown slacks from the photo were a simple, signature lineup that you loved on Joe. It was no surprise that he packed them.

Most of the people surrounding Joe were recognizable as other members of the cast. The photo descriptions made it clear that the intent wasn’t even to capture Joe. He was collateral damage of the media frenzy. The account owner gained a large following for being a fan of his female co star. The tall, stylish brunette was the focus of most shots. A few frames later, Joe stepped outside with her for a smoke. 

As you kept scrolling, the inconsistencies between photos became more apparent. For starters, Joe was wearing at least six different shirts. You swiped back forth to compare the different posts. The familiar woman was wearing a ruched skirt in one image, a pair of black pants in another, and a tan jumpsuit in the next. This was either an event that required many outfit changes, or these were taken across several nights. 

The setting transitioned back and forth between the same bar or outside of a flat. Joe was featured punching in an entry code to a gate, clutching a long paper bag in his other hand. 

It’s not that Joe isn’t allowed to drink. He’s a legal adult by a landslide, but sheesh, what happened to the early call times and late nights?

You scrolled through the photos until you could piece together a decent enough timeline. What a shame social media was telling you more about your partner’s whereabouts than your partner himself. You opened the images from last night again and swiped to the end.

Unlike the rest of the photos, there was one set taken from inside of the bar. The quality was noticeably distorted from the dim lighting. The owner must have held their phone at an odd angle to conceal their spywork. Joe had his arm around the familiar co star. One hand was on her opposite shoulder and the other held a shot glass. 

Even in still photos, you caught on to Joe’s posture. There was a certain way he stood when he was incredibly drunk and trying to play it off. She was in heels, yet looked small next to him. You missed that feeling and longed from him to envelope you. Although, maybe now it was the floor that you wished would swallow you whole. 

As you swiped, the images showed the progression of Joe leaning in to whisper something in her ear. The very last photo zoomed in on the woman, head thrown back in laughter.

Nope. 

You shut your phone and tossed it onto the table. You weren’t going to allow your mind to go there. You took any suspicious, intrusive thoughts and shoved them to the far back of your brain. 

Let’s examine the facts. Anybody that knows Joe knows what a professional he is. Any interaction between cast members HAD to be strictly friendly. 

Just an ounce of self reflection confirmed that foul play between co stars was out of the question. However, just because Joe wasn’t a cheater didn’t mean you weren’t being neglected. 

How many times over the past few weeks did he send you a work related excuse and then head out to socialize? 

It was so unlike him to ignore you, but it was even more out of character to lie to you.

You reached out and unlocked the phone again. Your fingers flipped back and forth between apps, eyes darting to compare text messages to the dates on tweets. The frantic behavior was emulating crazy girlfriend energy and you knew it, but you trusted your intuition more than anything else. 

The photos of Joe carrying liquor into the apartment building jumped out. They were taken last Friday around eleven. 

You double checked the only message you received from Joe that day:

Long hours on set tonight. Miss you Xx

sent: 10:35pm

________________________________________

We need to talk. Please call as soon as you can.

It was the first text you fired off after you left work. 

You typed and deleted about five different paragraphs but settled on two sentences. Not calling Joe right away took an immense amount of self control. However, a) if this week had been any sign, there was no chance he would pick up during work hours, and b) leaving him a voicemail of accusations risked saying something you didn’t mean. 

Joe must of sensed your urgency, because your phone was ringing by the time you reached your car. 

“Hi love. I need to run in a few minutes. Is something wrong?” The term of endearment that was normally so comforting now sounded out of place.

Joe’s phone was lying face up. All you could see was a beige ceiling and an aura of light. He fumbled with objects on the other side of the room. You shut the drivers side door and paused, debating on whether it was a good idea to have this conversation while sitting in a parking lot. 

“Yes, Joe.” You spoke slowly, trying not to to get ahead of yourself. “I need to see your face. I don’t want you to lie to me anymore.” Something inside of you hoped that once Joe looked you in the eyes, he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

The rummaging stopped. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Sit down and look at me.”

Footsteps drew closer to the microphone, and static cracked as Joe grabbed the phone from his bed. His face came in to view, mouth slightly open, brows furrowed in shock. You were never this short with him.

Joe sank down to the floor, back against a wall. “What is going on? You’re scaring me.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I know why you’ve been ignoring me. I also know how this sounds,” you said hesitantly. “But I’ve seen the photos of you online. You visit the same bar over and over. You were at the same flat nearly every night this week.”

“Are you tracking my every move?” he accused. “You know I’m nearly 30 years old and can handle myself-”

“You said you were at work,” you cut him off. “That’s the problem, Joe. You told me you had late nights filming or needed to go to bed for early call times. When in reality, you care more about your social life than me right now.”

“I can explain-”

“Let me finish. You are allowed to socialize, but you aren’t allowed to lie to me about it. Why are you avoiding me?”

“It’s not a lie. I-”

“Don’t feed me that shit. If you are going to deny it, then I am done. Do whatever you want, but do it without me,” you hissed. The sudden burst of emotion surprised yourself and your face went hot. 

“Listen to me for one second!” Joe’s voice cracking in the speaker caught you off guard. You couldn’t recall any other time he has raised his voice at you. He brought a hand up to his forehead and through his hair. Joe had a habit of doing that to self-sooth.

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t tell you the truth, because I just didn’t want to burden you with it. Okay? You just have to trust me.”

“You don’t want to burden me with your drinking habits?” you scoffed. You and Joe told each other everything. Him dodging your questions was so out of line with his usual transparency. It worked you up into a rage. 

You were met with a long, heavy silence on the other end. You raised your eyebrows and gestured for him to continue. 

No response.

“Fine, don’t talk,” you shrugged. “But I can’t let this go without a better explanation. You deserve all you have going for you, and for the record, I tried my best to make this work.” 

Even the suggestion of letting this discussion end unresolved felt like a hit to the chest. They were your own words, yet the seriousness of their implications knocked the wind out of you. 

“I can’t believe you won’t trust me!” Joe tossed his hands up in exhaustion. It was clear at this point that you were not going to allow him to sweep this under the rug. 

“I can’t believe you lied!” you hissed in return. “I have been so goddamn lonely because you won’t give me the time of day anymore. Can you imagine how that feels? To have your partner avoid you and deny it? To be given no explanation?” Your voice shook and salt crept down into your mouth. 

All you ever wanted was his honesty, and for the first time ever, he couldn’t give you that. The corners of your mouth shook as you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you. 

Joe’s eyes caught on your wet cheeks. There was a sigh of recognition on the other end of the line. 

“Im sorry... I didn’t mean to make you upset,” his tone softened and he averted his gaze. Joe was never able to watch you cry. 

You suddenly remembered you were still sitting in the parking lot with only your car windows to separate you from the outside world. You rushed to wipe the tears away with your sleeves. 

“This role... it’s so heavy.” Joe looked up at the ceiling like he was searching for the strength to speak. He took in a sharp breath.

“The scenes get extremely dark. I spend so much time getting into the troubled mind of this character, and it makes me feel like a different person.” Joe brought a nervous hand up to his neck.

“I wake up every day and have to act out disturbing things. I got so good at it that I started to feel the pain even when no one was recording. To me, you are a bubble of safety. So, the last thing I wanted to do is bring that nightmarish mentality into our relationship.” His voice was breathless and full of fear at how you might react. 

“Joe... I didn’t realize-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. Instead of telling you, I suppose I turned to vices. You are right. I’ve been drinking more than usual... smoking too, to be fair,” his voice trailed off shamefully. “I know how it looks, but I just wanted a way to escape without weighing you down. Turns out I’ve done a really shit job of coping.” He looked up at you to gauge a reaction. This time it’s his turn to blink back tears, and for what it’s worth, you could tell he was fighting. 

“It’s okay,” you said softly. 

“It’s not.” Joe shook his head slowly. “I should’ve realized how lonely it would make you feel.” The way his voice caught in his throat was so sad that it nearly erased all of your anger. 

“I would’ve understood.” You stared back at him sympathetically. “I want to know how you are feeling. That’s part of my job description in this relationship, you know.” 

Joe looked down at the floor, but you noticed the corners of his lips turn upward ever so slightly. It was the first time during the call that either of you saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

“Do you atleast have someone that will look after you?” you asked.

Joe swiped at his screen and it paused. His image went blurry. “I’m writing myself two reminders,” he said.  You heard the sound of thumbs tapping.

“For what?”

“First, to reach out to the support staff on set. Second, to call you again tonight.” His words were confident and reassuring. They were full of everything you have been missing over the past few weeks. 

“I think that’s a great idea.” Your shoulders dropped as you exhaled tension you didn’t even realize you were holding in. 

Joe will be gone for a while longer, but somehow it felt like he just returned home. 

[monstersdownthepath]

When it comes to the fey a recurring element is how because they normally can't die in the First World, so they tend to be particularly madcap and wild because they have suffer so few lasting consequences as long as they don't anger an Eldest. How much do you think affects the number of Fey who aren't 'truly malevolent' / CE, but will still happily and remorselessly kill those around them like the Leanan Sidhe?

-----

Significantly. If there are no permanent consequences to their actions, then why wouldn't they take the most dramatic route possible? Most Fey in the Material Plane simply don't realize that mortals don't come back once they die, so used to seeing neighbors whose bodies they tore to shreds waving at them amicably a year later.

You must, of course, account for Fey having an amount of Alien Brain Weirdness which makes them truly and earnestly believe that what they're doing is good; a Leanan Sidhe may honestly think it's doing the artist it's parisitizing a favor by killing them and assuring people will talk about their works for years to come. Most Remacera are incorrigibly convinced that murdering someone and returning them to life in a new shape is the proper response to someone lamenting any ailment or injury. Many fatalities associated with the Bagiennik are because it used its dangerous Nasal Spray to try and cure a sickness only it could detect, which it made no attempt to warn its victim of due to some belief that the victim would not understand, or that "there was no time."

And then there's a great number of Fey for whom their own personal rules (such as their laws of hospitality, personal space, or what they consider 'their' territory) are upheld with deadly seriousness. Fey who cannot be convinced to break their rules, either because they cannot fathom being able to break them because their mind is so different from ours, or because they must follow their rules due to some irresistible compulsion fused into their very being.

In whatever case, though, you are largely correct--life is cheap in the First World; most things are. The only resources one could reasonably call 'finite' among Fey are patience and novelty, and even these are can be refreshed if they destroy their own memories, one way or another. Some Fey have even changed over time to intentionally forget enormous swaths of their own lives just so they never really get bored. They might not even remember they've already outlived the mortals whose names and faces they're recalling for the first time in decades.

[kitsune-pop]

how do I talk about furry rights without people rolling their eyes and ignoring me? how do I bring up issues like online bullying and exclusion from communities without people calling me "one of the annoying ones?"

furries, in many ways represent transhumanism. now, I don't personally believe every single furry is a transhuman, or even give the concept much thought. however, the very existence of furries reflect the tenets of transhumanism. the idea to reject one's very species, to find comfort and camaraderie with others who share your feelings, to make changes to your everyday life in order to pursue that comfort. you can replace "furry" with "trans" and nothing would change

both furries and trans people have communities that overlap almost completely. I myself am a furry, and I have many fursonas. I am also a therian, otherkin, otherwise known as transhuman. I feel a level of discomfort not just in the perceived gender of my birth but in my human body. I very much wish I was a fox, and often fantasize about being one, or being turned into one in an entirely non sexual way. (if it was sexual, there still wouldn't be anything wrong with it because pursuing personal happiness can only be a good thing)

regardless, concepts like transhumanism have been a part of the furry community for as long as there was a furry community. some of the earliest records show in the summer of 1990 people online who identified more as elves than humans call themselves "elfkin," and as this new vocabulary spread, there were people who identified as animals, both fictional and factual, and they were initially labeled as "otherkin" by elfkin to differentiate from their specific community, and otherkin has more recently been described as "therian" in modern conversations. and we as a people can also acknowledge that the idea of humans turning into something nonhuman is a concept that has existed for as long as man has an understanding of the difference between man and beast. and even further, we know people who have sympathized with the nonhumans, or identified with their plight, in some way, shape or form. this is most often seen in queer communities

now, with this understanding of the idea of furries out of the way, is it any surprise that a huge amount of the trans community, as well as the lgbtqia+ community as a whole, also identify as furries? the modern interpretation of nonhumans existing as themselves happily? the idea that even though you are different, you are still loved and supported by like-minded individuals? is it such a surprise that so many of us had fursonas when we were younger? that as we matured and our understanding of our identities grew and became more complex over time we began questioning fundamental parts of our identities? I, for one, did it backwards. I transitioned, came out as a lesbian, and only then did I become a furry. and since I had all the hard parts of my identity out of the way, that meant I got to scrutinize my concept of what being a furry meant to me. and it allowed me to see the parallels between the trans community and the furry community

telling your family and being mocked. telling your friends and them treating you like an outsider. being outed by others in public spaces and facing public ridicule and shaming. feeling uncomfortable in your body. performing affirmative actions to alleviate the feeling of physical and mental discomfort. finding community online. talking to others and realizing you are not alone, you are not wrong, there are so many others like you. learning new ways to express yourself. still having a feeling of discomfort in how other people, outsiders to your community, will react if they find out what you are. relationships not working because of this part of your identity. only feeling comfortable in spaces exclusive to your community for fear of being gawked at and made unsafe. physical abuse directly because of how others interpret you as a threat, or something that needs to be "fixed." the words "trans" and "furry" are interchangeable here. and in many cases for furries, all of this is applied to them if they simply are furries and don't necessarily identify as therians or otherkin. then it can be seen as a direct one-for-one experience, unfortunate as it is

if more evidence is needed, think about how furries are treated online. the word "furry" itself is treated almost like a slur, calling someone a furry as a derogatory joke, or discrediting them because they are a furry. not to mention the proliferation of aggressive misinformation to further slander the furry community as a whole, such as them being sex crazed freaks, pedophiles and rapists (sound familiar?) the idea that there are "good" and "bad" members of the communities, ones you should listen to (the ones who are palatable, who keep it private, who aren't therian) and the ones you shouldn't listen to (the weirdos, the ones with weird pronouns, the ones who wear weird things out)

trans panic has gotten so ridiculous that there has even been an attack on the furry community by legislation. senate bill 3084 in Oklahoma banned the use of litter boxes in schools based on the rumors of furry children "demanding" this be allowed. this not only shows just how ludicrous the anti trans legislation that's been swallowing up the country has gotten, but how easily furries gets swept up with lgbtqia+ in cishet spaces. I would expect more sympathy for the furry community by the trans community at least, if not the larger lgbtqia+ community. and yet furries are still allowed to be made out to be jokes and insults.

now, I'm not saying that furries have been the target for systemic oppression in the same way the lgbtqia+ community has. but what I am trying to say is that we should step up and defend those who have been by our side every step of the way, cheering us on at parades and helping us figure out our identities. there are a lot of problems with how people both on and offline treat furries, and how it is just allowed to happen. because if you speak up against violence towards a community, you are labeled as "one of the bad ones"