#christ this show has given me life

[quarterblindsocialworker]

I love how tender and caring Stede is. Consent is so important to him that even in the throes of confusion, passion, and desperation to feel loved, Stede won't act without Ed's consent. I often feel like Stede's reasons for the end of 0206 was that he feared he was losing himself, and the only thing he knows damn well about himself that doesn't revolve around his image is his love for Ed. He wanted reassurance that the love he has for Ed and the love he is certain Ed feels for him is unchanged in spite of his seemingly uncharacteristic murder of Ned Lowe. Stede isn't willing to lose himself, and he isn't willing to lose Ed over this either. He's so desperate to know that the actions he's taken haven't changed who he is. He's also so desperate to ensure that he isn't hurting Ed again that he won't move forward without Ed's enthusiastic consent. God this fucking show.

Thinking about how Stede mainly touches Ed's elbow or cups the back of the head — never his face. How Ed reacts poorly to people touching his face, especially without consent. (Face touching has been used as a form of aggression and control on him in the past.) Stede touches where he knows Ed feels safe and comfortable.

The two times we see Stede touch Ed's face he asks first - the snake scene and Ed leans into it - and the bathtub scene where Stede touches Ed's shoulder and Ed is the one to lean in and touch his face to the back of Stede's hand.

[thedevotionaltour]

even for period typical ableism it still drives me nuts for karen to go oh poor matt how can he deal and get around as if he hasn't been blind most of his life at this point and living on his own by himself as an adult for his entire adult life after college and has also lived in the city his whole life like girl use your damn brain he can get around by himself just fine. good god. like take five seconds to use your brain. literally adult man who lives by himself if nothing else that should tell you he is fine and when he needs assistance has the knowledge and ability to go get it you act as if he can't even walk on the sidewalk by himself. he literally shows up to work by himself. it drives me up the wall sometimes how she sees proof of him functioning fine independently literally witnesses it on the daily and still thinks these things. like again foggy isn't great either bc again the period typical ableism (and just general ableism in the world outside of this period as this is a common attitude of viewing disabled people as helpless and unable to function even if they are people who do live independently (and im not touching on people who do need extra support and caretaking in this context. as this post is about these characters in the context of a story. so im talking about what we see there instead of any truly meaningful nuanced way) but the writing here is like. Particularly this way due to the time) he has a modicum more of understanding that matt is literally a capable grown adult man. literally told karen matt is a big boy who can handle himself and then karen went b-b-but you forget he's blind as if foggy hasn't known him for years of his life and is his best friend like PLEASE SEE HIM AS AN ADULT. I AM GOING TO GO INSANE. PLEASE RESPECT HIM IF YOU LOVE HIM SO DEARLY. AND EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T. JUST RESPECT HIM AS A PERSON!!!!!!

[eternalholygirl]

✞ Journal Prompts

1. How can I honor/serve God today?

2. Write a prayer for someone

3. How can I be a better friend this week?

4. What can I trust God with today?

5. What is a promise of God that I will hold to my heart to get me through the day?

6. What kind of person is God leading me to be and how can I become that person?

7. Who is God to me?

8. What distractions are getting in the way of me walking with purpose?

9. Who are the people God is leading me to invest in?

10. What Habits in my life do not glorify God and how can I change them?

11. What prayers of mine has God answered recently?

12. Today I am grateful for…

13. What habits can I obtain to grow closer to God?

14. Bible verses that stand out to me and why

15. Characteristics of God that you look for

In relationships

16. Who am I holding a grudge against and why I should let it go

17. My favorite Bible characters and why

18. 20 Positive characteristics of mine

19. When do I feel most distant from God? How can I get away from those situations?

20. When do I feel closest to God?

21. If my life would be used to preach one message, what would it be?

22. What are my God given gifts and talents?

23. How does a fulfilling morning spent with God look like to me?

24. How does a fulfilling evening spent with god look like to me?

25. If Jesus stood in front of me today, what 5 Questions would I ask him?

26. Which character in the bible is my greatest motivation and why?

27. Which character in the Bible do I relate to the most and why?

28. How did I experience God’s presence today?

29. What is an Area of your life where you need to trust God more?

30. What blessings has God provided recently? How have they strengthened my faith?

31. How can I show Christ-like love to others in your daily interactions?

32. How can I surrender my worries to God and find peace in his promises?

33. What step of obedience had God called me to that I’m avoiding?

34. Is there a sin in my life that I am not confessing and not repenting from? What is it and why do I hold onto it? How can I stop?

35. Am I spending consistent time with God? Why or Why not? What has been occupying my time lately?

Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.

Matthew 10:39

[wlntrsldler]

I keep imagining the first time Luke and Mr. D met after Luke's hickeys/scratches went viral

LMFAOOOOO ANON THIS IS SENDING ME

here is how i think that conversation played out (suggestive content ahead):

"shit, five star, your dad is calling me," luke mumbled, eyes wide as he looked down at his phone. "he never calls me."

connor snicked from his bunk in the tour bus, "well, given that the whole internet is talking about you right now after the show you gave them last night, i'm not surprised."

"ha!" travis exclaimed, sitting up on his bed. "put it on speaker. i wanna hear him yell at you."

you rolled your eyes, "he's not gonna yell at you."

luke turned to you with hopeful eyes, "you think so?"

"well, he's probably not gonna yell at you," you scrunched your face up, rethinking your words, "like 55% chance he won't yell at you."

"i don't like those odds, babe."

"answer the fucking phone, luke."

luke clicked the green button on his screen, chewing on the nail of his thumb. he rolled his eyes, pressing the speaker button as travis kept egging him on. chris and clarisse opened the privacy curtain of chris' bunk to listen in on the drama.

"hey, mr. d," luke cleared his throat, ignoring the quiet giggles from the boys when his voice cracked. "what's up?"

"is my daughter with you?"

"say no," you whispered. so you were wrong about the odds. your dad was 100% about to yell at luke and you selfishly didn't want to get your ass handed to you just yet. you were going to avoid your dad's calls for as long as possible.

"uhh... no?"

"oh jesus fucking christ," you sighed, smacking your palm against your forehead, "that was soooo convincing."

you heard your dad type on his laptop before shutting it. there was some background noise that subsided after you heard the shut of a door. it seemed like your dad went into his office to get some privacy.

"hey, kid," your dad said, no doubt addressing you now.

"hey, dad," you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, leaning down to speak into the mic of luke's phone. "how are you?"

"don't start with me," he said, "would it kill you both to not do whatever it is you do that results in those pictures? pictures that are all over the internet by the way!"

a snide remark was on the tip of luke's tongue, because yes, it would kill him to not do the things that resulted in the pink marks on his neck and the healing scratches on his back, but that didn't seem like the right response.

"dad, you never had an issue with them taking their shirts off during shows before. and luke has gone out on stage like that before."

luke cringed, remembering one too many instances where he'd gone out on stage with hickeys all over his neck. it felt like a lifetime ago now, as if ever since you walked into his life that past version of him was someone he didn't recognize anymore. he much preferred remembering the name of the girl who left him marked up, especially preferring that it was only you who did that to him.

"that was before he started dating my daughter!" he replied, "i don't want to know anything about your relationship, but i'm in an unfortunate situation where i happen to manage the career of your boyfriend's band so i have to deal with it sometimes. so for the love of god, please please, stop."

"i'm so sorry mr. d," luke mumbled, "i completely forgot about them and by the time i realized, it was too late."

you could practically see your dad pulling at his hair, a habit he had when he was in stressful or awkward situations. he didn't speak for a good thirty seconds and then he sighed, "just keep your goddamn shirt on."

luke gulped, "got it."

when your dad ended the call, the entire bus erupted in laughter, including you. luke's face was as red as a tomato as he groaned and buried his head in his pillow. your shoulders shook as you giggled, laying on top of him. he instantly turned his body to wrap his arms around you.

"that wasn't so bad," you cooed, running your fingers through his curls, "and that was a shit apology, baby. you were smug as hell on stage when people pointed out the scratches."

"i wasn't thinking of the consequences of my actions," he said, "i was caught up watching people connect the dots that my girlfriend is not only hot but a fucking animal in be--"

"okay, that's our cue," travis cut off, closing his curtain. connor followed his head, popping in his airpods. clarisse sent you a wink before she disappeared behind the curtain with chris.

"i'll stop leaving hickeys on you," you kissed his face, enjoying how flustered he got. "but i can't promise too much on the scratches."

"i'm gonna stop taking my shirt off at shows, i think," he mused, toying with the hem of the shirt you wore. "i don't think i can take another surprise call from your dad. i think it took years off my life."

"your fans will be highly disappointed," you teased, leaning over to his ear, "but if you're gonna keep your shirt on, does that mean hickeys on your abs is fair game?"

luke licked his lips, tugging on his own curtain to give you two some privacy, "absolutely."

[thestalkerbunny]

So truly as his song proclaimed, on one sunny day (A heat index of literally 97 degrees and climbing) I once again met with our old friend Bill Cipher by purchasing The Book of Bill.

And I gotta say.

It was like a WAVE of nostalgia.

I had forgotten how GOOD and WITTY Gravity falls had been. Not to mention the book in itself is SMART. We as a community were ENTHRALLED with the evil tortilla chip-an absurd thing to vote Tumblr's most sexy man 2013-and the book knew that and was like 'here is more of the chip man.' Like obviously there's codes and treats and what have youse for the smarter folks. But just the energy of the whole book, the fake ADS, the amazing design work, the missing pages, GATSBY, the LORE Bill gives that fills in so many blanks for us while callously poking more holes with a pencil at the same time. You read it perpetually bouncing back and forth questioning how reliable a narrator Bill is and more importantly, how much of it do you REALLY want to believe in?

It's a narrative that explores Bill as a person-at least how Bill Perceives it and with missing journal pages from Ford, how FORD perceived Bill.

The whole book in itself is a BREAK UP story, between a Man and the Monster who he unknowingly let into his life. A monster that pushes him to the brink, that makes the possession trope EXCITING AND NEW to me as he is horribly aware and actively communicating with the monster who is actively threatening his very LIFE if not given obedience and compliance. And it's not one sided yelling into the void convos-they can actually communicate and it makes the disregard so much more terrifying. It both makes you empathize with our favorite villain while not cheapening it so much to redeem him.

Reading this book validates the mania we see Ford with when we get the flash back episode of the Portal Incident. The sick sort of Paranoia that he's developed because every waking moment of his life has been ruined by someone he let in, trusted and opened up to.

The Book of Bill doesn't pull punches. There are parts in this book that go from 'comical horror' that jacks it up to 'Jesus fucking christ'

The Book of Bill does what the original show was not allowed to do-which is go further with how DAMAGING a relationship Ford had with Bill. How it was an addiction, feeding off each other. Ford in finally having someone who could in essence-REFLECT his own intellect back at him and Bill, a creature that demanded an audience to be witnessed by constantly.

Regardless, this was a FASINATING read. 110/10 totally work the trip in the 97 degree heat I made to 3 towns over JUST to get the Barnes and Noble EXCLUSIVE Copy that will now sit very proudly on my shelf. Go Buy it, Go Read it, It is WORTH it.

[drdemonprince]

At one point he was down in between my legs, fingering me, and he made a throwaway comment about probably being Autistic. 

I leaned back, trying to relish what pleasure I was getting. “Well, we can talk about that subject, if you like,” I said vaguely, not really wanting to bring my professional life into things. 

He kept working away at my body, kissing between my lips and thighs. “Oh I know who you are,” he said suddenly. “Your book changed my life. In a way, I guess this is me thanking you.” 

I made him exit my body and we went to the kitchen to hash it out. It turned out he was a big fan of many things I’d written. 

“I’ve seen you around the neighborhood many times,” he confessed. “But you posted online that you don’t like when people come up to you, and so I always decided to leave you alone.” 

He said, “Your book is the reason I got divorced, actually. My ex-husband was a therapist, and when I showed him your book and said I thought I might be Autistic, he didn’t believe me. We have been separated for a year.” 

He asked, “Did I just make this weird, telling you when I did that I was a fan?” I told him that if he’d said it sooner, I would have never fucked him at all. 

People never realize that when they approach me, what they are doing is dragging me into work. It doesn’t matter whether I was at breakfast, or an orgy. I was just some guy standing there, enjoying his beer, but now they have made me the known scholar and author. And sure, my job might be meaningful, but that doesn’t mean I like to work. 

I tell my friend that I no longer want to be a public figure, and that I am planning how to make it all end. She tells me, “You’ve got to do what is the best for you, even if it’s something that the rest of us wants and can’t imagine giving up.” 

I ask myself, did I want this? It would be more flattering to say I didn’t, and play the role of the hermetic author whose work developed its own life purely because it was so good. But that isn’t true. 

From the moment I got a Myspace account in high school, I was publishing essays about my political views. I serialized multiple novels on Tumblr, guerilla marketing them with giveaways and custom-made images until they hit the Kindle sales charts. I have made memes, tried starting viral trends, coined phrases, and given hundreds of hours’ worth of media interviews. I write prescriptive nonfiction, for Christ’s sake. Of course people seek guidance from me. I offer it up! 

I have been strategic about how I dress, and my video backdrops, and retaken clips of myself speaking over and over again until they sounded right. I’ve hosted debates with my most vicious critics while I’m in the shower, started public beef with creators who had larger accounts than I did, and rushed to my keyboard when upsetting news broke, because I alone was possessed of the most correct take on it.

I wanted this. I didn’t know what this was, this internet fame I was chasing, but I did all I could to make it mine. I thought that by writing so much, I would one day be able to escape myself, maybe really feel connected to other people. Instead it has meant never being able to stop thinking about myself: how I am seen, what I am working on, how it all fits together, what comes next. It has also meant being spoken about, theorized about, and criticized, and developing a firm exoskeleton of disdain between myself and the world. 

I believe now that that it is immoral for any person to be listened to by ninety thousand other people. Holding authority and status like that runs counter to my anarchic ideals. I am not more important or correct than anyone. I should not be trusted to tell people which commodities to buy, which companies not to support, what to read, what to think, what words to use, or how to conduct their lives. 

All the other animals know there is no one way that a creature “should” live. There is only the way that it does. The world has no consciousness, no beliefs. It cannot pass judgment. We only feel so watched and evaluated because we have covered the planet with so many millions of our eyes. But we can stop performing dignified human goodness at any moment. 

I think that celebrity is an evil, corrupting force that pits the human instinct for bonding against itself. Instead of appreciating the singing of our friends around the fire, we stream Chappell Roan until stalkers break into her house. Rather than playing card games together, we stan Twitch streamers, filling up their chats with highlighted messages until they acknowledge us. We long to be famous novelists because then we would have the social permission to write, and we don’t have the money or time to enjoy the activity on its own. 

I wrote about Chappell Roan, stalker stans, and how turning art into content creation ruins the work, and the creator's life. It's free to read in full (or have narrated to you by the app!) on Substack.

[cranberryjuice-posts]

-be still my foolish heart-

Pairings - Abby Anderson x fem! Teacher! Reader

Synopsis - rejoining the firefly’s has given Abby a chance to finally find love. Once she has she has no idea what to do with it.

An - HOZIER HOW I LOVE UR MUSIC

Cw - fluff to smut

Starting over wasnt easy. Anyone could testify to that.

Abby let out a deep sigh running a hand down her face. For the past year Abby had been readjusting to life, a former life she had long forgotten. Lev was helpful Sure but she didn’t know what to do with herself.

After becoming a firefly she had finally built up enough courage to admit that she herself was really only interested in Women.

But what made matters worse was you. Ever since that day in the infirmary where you helped Abby and lev recover You’ve just plagued the poor girls mind.

Washing her face Abby headed down stairs. Turning around the corner she almost fell, standing in the kitchen was you. Laughing with lev, coffee mug in and hand wearing Abby’s shirt— ONLY Abby’s shirt.

Looking over your shoulder you smiled at the blonde “morning, I made tea? Want some”

“Sure..” she mumbled walking towards the other side of the counter, where lev stood. You happily turned walking to the stove to pour Abby a glass.

With your back turned, abby grabbed levs hand dragging him into another room. “Why the hell is she here?!” She whispered yelled.

“She came by last night drunk, threw up on herself so I offered her one of your shirts I didn’t think it’d be a problem” he just shrugged his shoulders not really caring.

Abby however did. “Lev im going to beat your ass”

“It’s not That big of a Deal” lev continued on his stance, just as Abby was going to respond you called for her.

“Abby!” Turning around you saw Abby back at the kitchen counter, waiting like a puppy for your next command. “Here, Two spoons of sugar and a little cream. Just like how you like it” you smiled passing the mug over.

Abby just took the cup to her mouth not saying a word, secretly she preferred her tea without any additives that but she would never tell you. “I have a favor to ask” you tilted your head some to the side.

Abby perked up looking at you once more. “Yeah?”

“So, I know you use to be apart of some group before you came here and the teenagers that I teach are starting to want to get more responsibilities and with that they need to learn to fight. I was wondering if tomorrow you would come by and help me teach my lesson on the outside and how to fight the infected”

Abby kept quiet for a few moment. Mostly in awe that you wanted to ask her out of everyone else to help teach a class. Before she could respond lev did it for her. “She’ll be there” he spoke in his usual monotone voice while taking an apple off the table, leaving the room in the process.

Your shook your head finding lev to just be entertaining. “I got confrimation from your little assistant but I need a yes from you to”

“Yeah, I’ll do it sorry I just got lost in thoight” she tried to play her embarrassment off.

“Thankyou, your doing me a huge favor” you squeezed her arms gently. “I owe you one” you continued to Hold eye contact with her. Jesus fucking Christ Abby was down bad for you. She simply nodded watching as you to left most likely to get a change of clothes.

Now standing alone in the kitchen Abby looked down at her light tea and mentally debated on how to make a good impression tomorrow.

————

Nervously Abby stood in-front of the school house. Letting out a deep sigh she walked in, seeing your back facing her she took in your appearance.

Your natural hair pulled back with a bow, paired with a pair of bellbottoms that showed off your ass and a button down. Turning around finally you waved at Abby.

Making your way over to her you hugged her sweetly. “Thank you again, really I couldn’t do this without you”

“Don’t worry about it” she gave you a half smile back, admiring your body one final time she let you drag her towards the center of the class room.

Soon the class started to fill up, more and more kids coming in until all 15 of them were seated. “Good morning everyone” You smiled causing them to say it back.

“Today we have a Special guess Ms. Anderson, now I know you all want to go out and fight Infected and help keep us all safe so I had her come in today to help teach you all how to properly take care of not only your community but also the infected outside”

The way you held yourself and instructed your class honestly made Abby’s heart soar. Just how confident yet humble you were honestly made you more attractive in her eyes. Once you finished your speech you turned to Abby, allowing her to have the floor.

She awkwardly shifted in her spot not sure how to start. “Um.. hey, so like Ms.LN said uh I’m here to help I guess teach you all about infected.”

Once her sentence ended the entire class erupted into chaos questions with a new one shouted after the other. Stepping in and calming them down a kid named Liam raised his hand. “Is it true you almost killed a pregnant woman?”

“I uh” Abby stumbled on her words. “I highly doubt that has to do with killing infected”

“Liam, this is your last warning one more time and I’m having a talk with your mother” your threat only made the boy cower and Abby become flustered.

Calming her nerves she sighed, the important thing right now was to at least impress you. “I’ve killed people. I’ve killed infected and I’ve hurt alot of people.. a lot of them—

— and I think that’s it, unless you all have questions” Abby finally asked after her lecture. A few kids raised their hands asking important questions. The spotlight ended though once the bell rang.

“All-right everyone thats it, get out Go to lunch” You playfully yelled, saying goodbye to your students giving each their own smile. As the last one left you sat down on your desk, leaning on to Abby who still stood beside it. “They all like You”

“You think” she asked trying to ignore the growing blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah.. I know it” You mumbled taking her hand into yours. Kissing the back of her hand softly you rubbed her knuckles. “You’re coming to the party tonight right?”

Abby looked down at you embarrassed. “I mean I can, I know lev wants to go because he has this crush on a girl but I really wasn’t planing on going”

You kept quiet for a moment still holding her hand. “Well then if you’re not going, could I come by tonight and keep you company?” You sweetly asked.

If her face could of gotten redder it would of. “Yes!” She spoke a little to quickly causing you to laugh. “I’ll see you tonight Abby” you smiled looking up at her with a sense of admiration.

She nodded, awkwardly leaving the school house making you giggle.

————

You sat outside rocking gently on the swinging bench on Abby’s porch. The light from the party happening at the tavern light up the neighborhood.

“You like marshmallows right” Abby asked as she joined you on the bench, passing the cup of hot coco. You smiled taking the cup, taking a sip you let the sweet drink pass through your body.

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction you faced the blonde again. You took the quilt off your body passing it over Abby’s as well, wanting to share the body heat.

“So” you started, turning to face Abby. “You’ve been here for a year now, your hair has grown out into a cute bob and you’ve put half the men here to shame with your muscles.. so I have to ask Ms. Anderson, do You like someone?”

Abby sub consciously reached to her hair that rested just bellow her chin, she normally kept it in a bun though tonight a few strands weren’t wanting to cooperate. She cleared her throat not sure how to respond. “I guess so” she managed out. “I mean I do like this girl but I doubt she’d like be back”

“And Why’s That” You asked leaning into her. “And it’s a girl? Is this you coming out to me Abby” you softly teased.

“Shut up” she chuckled. “Yes it’s a woman and yes I guess technically this is me telling you I like women, more then men at least”

“And Why do You think she doesn’t like you?” You set your cup on the table in front of you before laying your head on your arms on the back of the bench.

Abby just sighed. “Well for starters shes Just beautiful, I mean really she’s just… wow— you know” she smiled sweetly at her mug.

“Yeah?” You playfully flirted.

“Oh yeah, I mean she’s just astonishing, and the nicest woman I’ve ever met. She holds herself with such confidence and grace that honestly she was probably royalty in another life” Abby continued with a foolish smile that was eventually replaced with a more remorseful look. “But I did some not so ok stuff in my past, and if she found out I don’t think she could ever look at me the same”

“Like What?” You asked not thinking that it could be any worse than anyone else. “We’ve all killed people abs, whatever you did it couldn’t of been that bad”

Abby hesitated, to tell you meant telling you all the bad shit she’s done. Closing her eyes she let out a deep breath before speaking.

“I beat a man to death with a golf club because he killed my dad and took away the only man who could of made a cure for the infection then his brother and some girl came after me, killed all my friends. I slept with my friends boyfriend, I shot the brother of the man I killed and beat the girl almost to death, I almost killed her pregnant girlfriend and shot this guy who was with them then I left the group I was with at the time and ran away with lev”

The silence was over whelming. She squeezed her cup in shame regretting even opening her mouth. The silence was replaced however with laughter. Finally looking up Abby looked over seeing how you laughed like nothing happened.

You continued to silently giggle before leaning your head back, looking over at Abby you gave her a dumb smile. “Really? That’s it?”

She just looked at you confused. How could you be so laid back after she told you something so traumatic. “Abby why would I ever care about you killing someone? So what you killed a man that killed your dad, sounds fair. You also got vengeance for your friends, again sounds fair; though the sleeping with your friends boyfriend I’m not sure about that”

Abby felt her face turn red. Looking back down embarrassing she fumbled her words trying to explain. “Look it wasn’t like that, we dated when we were kids and it ended messily. We got into an argument and were just mad at each-other and the only way to express our feelings was through actions, I regretted it and it was honestly shit I hated it the entire time”

“Well as Long as you regret it then I guess there isn’t a problem” you chuckled, leaning over you tucked a stray strand of Abby’s hair behind her ear.

Subconsciously Abby felt herself leaning into you, she held her breath- not wanting the moment to end. You followed her lead tilting your head into hers.

After a short second you smiled “just kiss me already” the was the last thing spoken before Abby crashed herself into you.

Her hands instantly finding themselves on your hips and in your hair, wanting to ground herself in anyway she could. A years worth of sexual and romantic tension building up being poured out all into one kiss.

In response you picked your body up, leaning into Abby you pressed yourself against her, slowly making your way into her lap. With your knee between Abby’s legs and the once heavy quilt now falling off you both you pulled away. Breathing heavily with your lips still close you muttered against her skin “wanna take this inside?”

She quickly agreed following your lead inside, leaving everything else behind the only thing that mattered was having you both against each other. With the door shut you locked your hands into Abby’s hair, kissing her once again.

While the messy kiss continued the stronger woman helped lift you off the ground causing you to wrap your legs around her waist. With her hands on your Ass abby carried you upstairs and to her room.

Once there she gently tossed you on the bed. With how much she’s had to hear about your hookup story’s and how you wish they’d man handle you more often she had a fake sense of confidence going through her body.

You threw your shirt aside, quickly making due with the bra. The confidence broke once Abby realized this was her first time with a woman. Her first time really ever since Owen. Wanting to curl up in embarrassment Abby looked away from your breast.

You laughed noticing her shyness and the distant look of doom. “Don’t worry.. it’s not as difficult as you think” pulling her down by her shirt you gave Abby a gentle, reassuring kiss. “We’ll take it slow”

Abby just nodded, shaking the feeling away she slowly stripped off her shirt, trying to hold the intimate eye contact.

Both taking turns, each stripping out of their clothes until you both were naked all while holding eye contact. You ran a hand up Abby’s chest, giving her sensitive breast a gentle squeeze she moaned, deep and raspy.

“You make me feel good baby and I’ll make you feel like nothing else exist” you mumbled while kissing Abbys neck. She moaned in response, laying on the bed she started to kiss and grab down your body. Every piece of skin that she could touch she loved. From your collarbones, nipples and to your stomach she sweetly kissed.

You took a hand, lacing it into Abby’s now messed up hair. Once she reached between your thighs she was already on her knees admiring what laid between.

“God” she groaned tucking her face into your plush thigh. Kissing it softly she slowly made her way towards your soaking cunt. Your stomach tensed, the teasing feeling of her lips dragging across your skin only riling you up more.

Moving her head towards your core by her hair you let out a small whine. “Please”

You opened your eyes to look down at her, she hadn’t even touched you yet but she was already so pussy drunk. You loosened your grip on her hair as she finally brought herself to you.

She gave a kitten lick on your swollen clit, slightly insecure of her skills before actually placing herself onto your sensitive skin.

Slowly sucking on the bud Abby kept the eyecontact with you, feeling herself getting off with the faces and noises you made. Without realizing it she slid two fingers into you.

“Oh fuck, Just like That Abby” Your stomach tensing up as your chest followed your rapid breaths. You clamped your thighs around Abby’s head not sure how much more you could take. Moaning her name you started to grind your hips on her face. The smell of sex quickly over taking your senses.

With your eyes shutting and your back arcing pushing your cunt onto Abby’s tongue, chasing your high; your legs started to shake as your orgasm crashed over your body.

Relaxing and allowing Abby to pull away from you, you looked down at her with a slight chuckle. Her face red and her pupil’s dilated. “You look beautiful” You smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re one to talk” she grinned in response, kissing you, the taste of yourself in her tongue taking over. You sat up moving back towards the bed frame before laying down again.

“Here” you gestured to your lips. Both still breathless, Abby looked at you confused until it hit her what you were signaling.

It was cute how nervous she was. Straddling your body she bent down giving you a kiss. You let out a muttered moan wrapping your arms around her. While you gently rubbed Abby’s body you helped move her up towards your lips.

Letting her grab the headboard you forced her hips down. Abby was sweet, sweeter than you expected. Her small whines and grunts made you feel like you were going insane. She was just perfect.

You ran your tongue in rhymathic circles, squeezing Abby’s thighs wanting to bring her closer if it was even possible. Her moans. Her taste. Her skin. Everything about her was perfect.

You could tell she was close, from how she gripped the board to her scrunched up face. Her moans becoming louder up until the point she held her head back.

Abby was inexperienced it was obvious from her body language, her finishing faster than you would of thought was kind of expected.

Trying to help brace her body while she came down from her orgasm you helped Move her beside you, you both just looked at one another not wanting the moment to end.

Giving her a subtle kiss on the cheek you sat up, letting out a deep breath you smiled down at Abby who was softly rubbing your arm. You could of gone for a few more rounds but Abby really just wanted to lay down. Maybe another time

After making a shower for you both and getting a drink you laid on Abby’s chest, enjoying how her stronger arms made you feel secure. Softly kissing her neck you smiled against her skin. “I love you Anderson”

Though you weren’t looking at her you could tell her face was red. “Yeah— I uh i love you to” she managed back, her arm growing tighter around you.

[lookingfts]

Thanks to @crookedchildpanda for the prompt including JB's glasses! I am a huge sucker for that look (and so is Kate).

She’s done just fine resisting Anthony Bridgerton so far.

Well, maybe not just fine. Maybe that’s an overstatement when she still loses her breath at that dark flash in his eyes that comes out when she’s competing with him over something stupid. When she spends hours thinking up new insults, new criticisms, new weaknesses to needle at to piss him off the way he regularly pisses her off. When she lays in bed and thinks about his eyes, his jaw, his mouth, the annoyingly perfect cut of his face and his body as she touches herself.

But she’ll never actually fuck him, she swears. Kate will not be a notch on the bedpost of London’s most notorious trust fund slut. She absolutely refuses, no matter how many times he looks at her a little too long or brushes a hand over the small of her back or murmurs in her ear and she’s instantly horny in a way that feels like a medical condition.

In the end, it’s a complete surprise. The thing that does her in.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Kate asks extremely impolitely over the table at brunch. Anthony hasn’t even sat down yet, and all of their friends – well, her friends, his family – whip around to look at her. Whoops. Her ribbing is typically a little more…discreet than that.

He makes a show of looking down at his chest. “A jumper?”

The jumper is sexier than it should be, stretched tight over his absurd muscles, but that’s not what she means. “No, your…” He raises an eyebrow, and Kate feels heat rush to her cheeks. “Never mind, you look stupid, is all.”

It’s lame and uncreative, as far as insults go, and Kate buries her face in the menu even though she gets the same thing every time they come here. Anthony slides in across from her, and- fuck.

Does she have a glasses thing? It feels like maybe she has a glasses thing. Or maybe it’s just an Anthony-in-glasses thing, because she’s never noticed it before, and suddenly she is more attracted to him than she’s ever been to anyone in her life and fuck that, honestly, it’s so unfair.

The following ninety minutes are pure torture, as Anthony keeps looking at her and Kate steadfastly pretends not to notice, and his foot bumps against hers in a way that’s probably accidental, given their positions, but sends a sharp jolt through her nonetheless.

“I like the glasses,” Daphne says, tapping the corner of her brother’s frames as he tries to duck away. “They make you look smart.”

“They make me look old,” he protests, and Kate thinks a little hysterically about how not true that is. “But my contacts were on back order, so it’s this or be blind and walk into traffic.”

“There’s an option,” Kate says chipperly, attempting to regain some of her balance after her slip-up earlier. And Christ, that's a mistake. His eyes flash behind the glasses, and Kate thinks she has just discovered her own personal kryptonite.

She needs some air. In a performance that is probably unconvincing, but everyone else is too lost in conversation to notice, Kate pretends to feel her phone buzz and tugs it out of her pocket.

“It’s Edwina,” she says pointlessly. “I have to call her. I’ll be back.”

Her waffle lies half-eaten on the table as she strolls out of the restaurant and slumps against the wall, inhaling deeply. She will not blame herself for being an adult woman with a healthy sex drive, but she will blame herself for directing that sex drive toward fucking Anthony Bridgerton, of all people.

He’s kind awful. He’s smart arrogant and gentle condescending and he loves his family hooks up with too many women and almost certainly has some type of infection and he looks at her like he wants to take care of her conquer her.

Not for the first time, Kate wonders if she secretly wants to be conquered by him. Wonders if she could forgive herself for letting it happen.

“You’re off your game today.”

Kate jumps off the wall, her eyes snapping open. Anthony looks unbearably smug, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirks at her. “Yes, well, occasionally I do have better things to do than tear you apart, Anthony.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he hums, taking the smallest step toward her. She has a dozen ways to escape, knows Anthony would never actually pin her down, but she feels trapped anyway. Trapped by his gaze and the heat from his body and the shiver of arousal that travels slowly down her spine. “If I’d known the glasses would do something for you, I would have worn them ages ago.”

It should be taunting, but his voice is unexpectedly soft. Like he’s not teasing her. Like he means it. “Who says I care about your glasses?”

That would have worked better if she didn’t sound so shaky. Anthony leans toward her a little more, his confidence growing in small bursts, and this is humiliating. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s creaming her knickers over this man she wants hates so much.

Anthony swallows, his eyes trailing over her face, and all she feels is desire. In her blood, in his gaze. There’s nothing but a burning heat and a cautious, tentative hope. “I absolutely hate these glasses, Kate,” he says. “But I would wear them every day for the rest of my life if it made you tremble the way you’re trembling right now.”

And that’s the worst part of it all, isn’t it? He’s standing here, telling her that he would do it for her. That he would do anything to please her, to stoke her lust, to win her affection.

The worst, worst part is that he doesn’t need to do much of anything. Kate devotes ninety percent of her energy to keeping him at arm’s length, and it’s been a losing battle from the start.

Fuck it. She’ll forgive herself later. Or not.

Her lips are on his and however she expects him to respond, it is not to yank her against him on this public street and tangle his hand in her curls and lick into her open mouth until she moans. It’s not for his glasses to bump against her nose and for that to be some weird turn-on in itself. It’s not for him to literally fucking growl in his throat as he kisses her with mind-numbing intensity.

Kate is disoriented when he pulls away, her lungs burning from the lack of air, his large hands still taking up an insane amount of real estate on her waist. His glasses are slightly askew and really – that’s it. She’s filing an insanity plea. There is no other excuse for why she feels so dizzy, why the thought of going back to her waffle and forgetting all of this feels like madness.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, his thumb stroking the soft skin peeking out from her top, his eyes blown out. “Tell me to go back inside or tell me to take you home. Just tell me.”

And it’s suddenly crystal clear that there’s only one option. She’s going to fuck this stupid man and make him keep his glasses on and it’s going to be the best shag of her life, regardless of what happens after. And she’ll regret it, or she won’t, because maybe he does actually want her this badly.

“Go back inside,” Kate breathes, and his shoulders slump, but he simply nods. “And pay for our meals. And tell everyone I have a family thing and you’re going to drive me home.”

Anthony grins, his eyes lighting up behind the glasses, and Kate thinks she might have been wrong before. That is her ultimate weakness. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

[thislovintime]

Peter Tork with Bob Rafelson, May 1968. Photos by Henry Diltz.

From Peter's Q&A at the 2006 United Fan Convention. “When I recorded ‘Can You Dig It,’ the guitar solo originally ran about three or four minutes all by itself. We cut that back to a minute and a half. Bob Rafelson took a pair of scissors and snipped off the end of it. He didn’t ask me to shorten it, which I would have been glad to do. He just chopped it off. Son of a bitch! I have a lot of gripes about that, but that’s neither here nor there.” - Peter Tork, Blitz!, May/June 1980 “[M]y personal belief is that Bob [Rafelson] is an evil-minded man. He likes to bring people down. Bob was often unsupportive as a human being and distinctly negative — and I was on the short end of that. There’s one example [in the film] — where Ray Nitschke, the football player, keeps hitting me. He was a Hall of Famer for the Green Bay Packers. He’s doing his best to hit me but not to give it all he’s got because if he does, I’m a squashed bug. So this guy’s one of the toughest men in football, he’s coming at me and I’m scared [but] figure it’s good to be scared because that’s what an actor should do. But Bob goes: ‘Ha, ha! Look at Peter! He’s scared! Ha, ha!’ I was just about the kick him in the balls. It was like, For fuck’s sake, Rafelson! You’re making fun of me ‘cos I’m scared? How do you think that’s going to affect the quality of your movie, pal? I was so angry! That’s the style in which he damaged what could have been a fulfilling quality experience.” - Peter Tork, MOJO, June 2002 “I didn’t have much to do with Kirshner and that which I did have to do with him was strained, difficult and incomprehensible. Schneider I love; he’s a hero of mine. Rafelson, the less said about, the better.” - Peter Tork, Goldmine, May 1982 “There was one guy, Steve [Stills], whom I liked enormously. Unfortunately he wasn’t quite right, but he had musical intelligence and I went so far as to ring him up and ask him along again. When he realized he wasn’t going to make it he suggested I get in touch with someone he knew, a certain Peter Thorkelson. I might have said ‘Yeah’ and forgotten about it — particularly as this Peter Thorkelson hadn’t even answered the ad and we had a lot of guys who had. Yet I remember I went to great lengths to contact him. I found him working as a dishwasher — not even as a musician, so you can imagine it took a while tracing him. But when I heard him, I knew at once he was right. I was knocked out.” - Bob Rafelson, NME, August 12, 1967 “The movie portrays them with not so much sweetness and brightness [as the TV show]. It’s a much heavier and far-out thinking group. I wouldn’t call it uncharitable. I thought it was expanding my sense of who they were. There’s a boxing scene in which Micky says, ‘Take this, you dummy.’ Suddenly the music changes and Peter appears in the corner, Christ-like, and says, ‘Micky, I’m the dummy. I’m always the dummy.’ The point was that he was always asked to be the dummy, so here he’s acknowledging it. But he’s also the one who’s given the longest speech in the movie about spiritual evolution, which he’s learned from the guru in the steam room. I was trying to give him a chance to be himself, but in a symbolic way. He is that way today, by the way. In other words, The Monkees became what they really were.” - Bob Rafelson, MOJO, June 2002 “Working for Bob was tough.” - Peter Tork, Shindig Magazine, 2010 “‘Most people are dazzled by the psychedelia, and that’s fine, but for me finally the point of the movie is the Monkees never get out,’ Tork says sadly. ‘Which is to say Bob Rafelson’s view of life is you never get out of the black box you’re in. There’s no escape.’ So how would a Peter Tork cut of Head end? ‘There might have been a scene where we get out,’ he says wistfully. ‘We jump in the water and get away.’“ - The Guardian, April 28, 2011

[artandthebible]

Naomi and Ruth

Artist: Evelyn De Morgan (English, 1855–1919)

Date: 1887

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Naomi and Ruth

The story of Naomi appears in the Bible in the book of Ruth. Naomi lived during the time of the judges. She was the wife of a man named Elimelech, and they lived in Bethlehem with their two sons, Mahlon and Kilion. Naomi’s life illustrates the power of God to bring something good out of bitter circumstances.

When a famine hits Judea, Elimelech and Naomi and their two boys relocate to Moab (Ruth 1:1). There, Mahlon and Kilion marry two Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. After about ten years, tragedy strikes. Elimelech dies, and both of Naomi’s sons also die, leaving Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah widows (Ruth 1:3–5). Naomi, hearing that the famine in Judea was over, decides to return home (Ruth 1:6). Orpah stays in Moab, but Ruth chooses to move to the land of Israel with Naomi. The book of Ruth is the story of Naomi and Ruth returning to Bethlehem and how Ruth married a man named Boaz and bore a son, Obed, who became the grandfather of David and the ancestor of Jesus Christ.

The name Naomi means “sweet, pleasant,” which gives us an idea of Naomi’s basic character. We see her giving her blessing to Ruth and Orpah when she tells them to return to their mothers’ homes so that they might find new husbands: she kisses them and asks that the Lord deal kindly with them (Ruth 1:8–14). But her heartache in Moab was more than Naomi could bear. When she and Ruth arrive in Bethlehem, the women of the town greet Naomi by name, but she cries, “Don’t call me Naomi... Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me” (Ruth 1:20–21). The name Mara means “bitter.” The cup of affliction is a bitter cup, but Naomi understood that the affliction came from the God who is sovereign in all things. Little did she know that from this bitter sorrow great blessings would come to her, her descendants, and the world through Jesus Christ.

Ruth meets a local landowner, Boaz, who is very kind to her. Naomi again recognizes the providence of God in providing a kinsman-redeemer for Ruth. Naomi declares that the Lord “has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead" (Ruth 2:20) Seeing God’s hand in these events, Naomi encourages Ruth to go to Boaz as he slept in the threshing floor in order to request that he redeem her and her property. Naomi’s concern was for Ruth’s future, that Ruth would gain a husband and provider.

Naomi’s bitterness is turned to joy. In the end, she gains a son-in-law who would provide for both her and Ruth. She also becomes a grandmother to Ruth’s son, Obed. Then the women of Bethlehem say to Naomi, “Praise be to the Lord, who this day has not left you without a guardian-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age. For your daughter-in-law, who loves you and who is better to you than seven sons, has given him birth” (Ruth 4:14–15). Naomi was no longer Mara. Her life again became sweet and pleasant, blessed by God.

[loveerran]

The 99 (plus 1)

On September 9th, President Russell M. Nelson, prophet and leader of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, will turn 100 years old. His has been a full life, dedicated to service and a desire to improve the lives of others.

As part of that ministry, the prophet has invited us to help celebrate his birthday by reaching "out to 'the one' in need", "'the one' in our lives who may be feeling lost or alone". This invitation references the parable of the lost sheep (Matthew 18 and Luke 15), which emphasizes the value of one that is lost.

This is interesting to me as a transgender disciple of Christ. Transgender individuals generally make up no more than 1% of the overall population, making us (in some very real ways) 'the one'. If a typical ward has 100-200 active members, then there should be approximately 1 transgender individual in every congregation of the church. It is sad there are far, far fewer than that. Most leave. They feel alone, lost, isolated and discriminated against despite the council President Nelson has given.

There will be a special broadcast commemorating the prophet's 100th birthday. During the broadcast, "Examples of what people around the world have done over the past 100 days to commemorate his birthday will be shared through stories from people who were 'the one.'"

Throughout his ministry, I see the Savior ministering to those who felt lost or alone, forgotten or marginalized. I imagine that the broadcast will show outreach efforts that look familiar to us. When I think about the people the Savior ministered to, I often think on those who were rejected or discriminated against by the society around him, including:

Those who may have been considered enemies, like the Samaritans - including the good Samaritan of the parable or the woman at the well,

Those who may have been considered outsiders, like the centurion's servant - or tax collectors and sinners like Levi and others,

Those who may have been considered unclean, like lepers (at least one of whom was another Samaritan) and the woman with the issue of blood,

Those who may have been considered sinners, like the woman taken in adultery or the woman who washed his feet, and others.

We also read of several times where Jesus' followers didn't want him to interact or minister with a certain class of people, from the blind man who called after him "Jesus, thou son of David, have mercy on me" to the little children he instructed should be suffered to come unto him.

I am grateful for the church's emphasis on (and exercise of) ministry and outreach, and for the good that it will bring to the world. I am grateful for those who try to make the world a better place, as President Nelson has. I hope someday we will see inclusion of LGBT people in our outreach narratives, including stories of truly sensitive, kind, compassionate and Christlike ministry - even when some in our society may consider us to be enemies, outsiders, unclean and sinners.

Love, Erran

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - prologue: when we met in venice (part 1)

pairing: photographer!Joshua x influencer fem!reader

genre: comedy, drama, fluff, strangers to enemies to ????

warnings: alcohol and food consumption, cursing, drama, minor violence and involvement of the police

word count: 2.9k

summary: in the world of fashion, social media and influence, you're one of the game changers. But you never knew that a smaller player in the form of a freelance photographer would be able to change you.

Author's note: hello I am indeed alive and so is this series!! this is also part of the SVTHUB World Tour collab hosted by @svthub!

p.s.1: in case you wonder why the teaser part isn't included in this fic.... it's because I split it in half heheheheh

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

Fashion Week. Probably one of the most exciting weeks in your life, even more than Christmas.

A week full of runway shows and models dressed in extravagant outfits, interviews with designers from all over the world and huge chances of expanding your network all over the world.

Every single year, you’ve never failed to attend the shows, no matter the city it takes place in and this year is no exception. 

Your recent collaboration with Prada landed you an illustrious invitation to the front rows of their fashion show and you would never miss the chance to visit Venice, given the fact it has been on your travel bucket list for ages.

And here you are, on the grand night, sitting on the front row with Liz, your trusty helper, amongst other celebrities with names brighter than diamonds. Under other circumstances, you would have felt at least intimidated, but knowing that some of these celebrities follow you on social media is a huge ego boost for you.

The show begins and you fall silent, your eyes watching the stunning yet stoic looking models parade on the catwalk, each one of them dressed with the latest designs. You can hear faint whispers from all around you, probably discussing (or criticizing) about the clothes.

Fucking stuck up idiots, you think. A bit ironic, but it doesn’t stop you from making this thought.

Nevertheless, you decide to stop bothering with the rest of the guests and focus your sights on the runway, keeping mental notes of the sleek designs, occasionally whipping out your phone to keep photos and videos of the event.

A few hours later, you enjoy a glass of pink champagne, casually walking through the halls of Centro Congressi of San Servolo. Your ears catch conversations made in multiple languages, Italian being the dominant one - you are in Italy, after all.

“I know we’ve been in fashion shows before, but something about Venice feels so….classy.” Liz looks around the hall with curious eyes.

“Keep your eyes peeled, darling, it will be a great chance for you to learn even more.” You send her a wink.

“Y-Yes, of course, Miss!” 

“Jesus Christ, you can just call me by my name, it’s not like we’re that apart in terms of age!”

“I- No, I never even thought of that!” The blond girl gestures apologetically, “It’s purely out of respect and courtesy.”

“How did I get so lucky with you?” You pat her head gently, still holding your glass in your hand, “Don’t worry too much though - You can always help yourself to a glass of champagne.”

Liz gives you a hearty smile, but that smile turns into a scared expression as you’re about to turn around to walk away, not noticing the incoming man behind you.

“Miss Y/N, watch out-”

You let out a scream in the middle of the hall, as you bump into the unknown man and his glass of champagne crashes and spills all over your Prada outfit, drenching the expensive fabrics.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry-” The man apologizes honestly, “Wait, let me help-”

“Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole!” You snap at him, “Are you even aware of how expensive my outfit is?!”

“I do, that’s why I wish to help!” 

“Yeah, I can see how much you’re helping right now!”

“Miss Y/N, please, let’s not cause a scene!” Liz begs you to stop yelling, as she tries to calm you down.

“Maybe you should listen to your friend,” he comments, “She’s clearly more composed than you.”

“What did you say?” You narrow your eyes at the infuriatingly handsome man.

“Miss Y/N, let’s just g-”

With a swift motion, you splash your remaining champagne over his face and throw the glass on the marbled ground, the loud noise making more heads turn towards you.

“If you knew where the fuck you were going, none of this would have happened, asshole!” You turn on your heel angrily and Liz follows right behind, bowing repeatedly, as a form of apology.

The young man stands in the middle of the hall like a frozen pole, unable to form a sentence. He takes a few looks around and notices lots of other guests looking at him with mockery and disdain written all over their faces. He’s certain that the whole incident will make the tour of the online world until the end of the night and the tour of the TV morning gossip shows until the next day arrives.

A waiter approaches the man and wordlessly hands him a cotton napkin, the latter accepting it with a nod of his head to clean whatever he could from his ruined outfit.

"Anything else I can do to help you, sir?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," He sighs in defeat, "but thank you nonetheless."

The next morning finds you in your hotel room, angrily watching the news tabloids about the champagne incident with two eye patches on your under eye area and a pitch black coffee in your hand.

"Preposterous. Utterly preposterous!" You close the TV and throw the remote controller on the bed.

"Miss Y/N, I'm really sorry for what happened," Liz hangs her head in shame, "If only I had noticed him coming towards you sooner-"

"If you feel so bad for everything that happened last night and you want to prove that you're not useless, find me that man's info!" 

“I already did that last night, Miss.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?!”

“You were asleep, Miss!” Liz defends herself. “It's rude to wake up someone in the middle of their sleep.”

“What’s the point of not ruining my sleep, if my career is falling apart within mere moments?!” You yell at her.

“I’m sorry! I’m just trying my best to support you, but yelling at me won’t help at all!” Liz retaliates and you nearly gasp from her newfound resolve.

You let out a deep sigh and sit on the bed, crossing your legs.

“You’re right. You’re actually the only person that has done nothing wrong.” You rub your temples with your fingers. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay, I understand your frustration.” Liz responds with a small smile, “If you still want to discuss about that gentleman’s info-”

“Gentleman?! He ruined my clothes!”

“I know! But he still tried to help-”

“Just give me his info, Liz.”

She hands over her tablet to you and your fingers start swiping on the screen, browsing through the notes Liz has kept.

“Joshua Hong, freelance photographer? Eh, I expected more.” You grimace in disappointment.

“I think he’s very talented. He’s definitely not as pompous as other photographers who have made a name for themselves.”

“Whose side are you on again?”

“Yours! I’m just….sharing my first impression of him…”

“You find him charming, don’t you?” You raise your eyebrow at her.

“But he is!”

You stare at the tablet screen, your eyes fixated on the profile picture of his Instagram account.

His facial features are so balanced and his skin is so perfect and you know it's not a filtered photo - with your experience, you know when a photo on social media is filtered, and this one is very much real.

“Yeah. In a very infuriating way.”

"Did he really bother you that much?"

"Well duh!" 

"It was still an accident-"

"That made me the center of all social media gossip and drama!"

You pause right after finishing your sentence, the gears in your head spinning faster than the wheels of a Ferrari.

"Um, Miss Y/N?"

"Liz, I will need your help."

"Of course, but what for?"

A Cheshire cat grin spreads on your lips.

"Why, addressing the situation of course."

"You plan on releasing a statement?"

"Of course. Can't let the whole drama unattended, right?" You take a sip from your coffee.

"Miss, are you sure about this?"

"One hundred percent. I promise, it won't take more than ten minutes. Then we can go get a proper breakfast by the pool."

“Seriously, she just dropped a whole glass on you because you accidentally dropped a glass on her?”

“Crazy, I know,” Joshua sighs, “and because of that, my face is all over the paparazzi news!”

“At least you’re looking good in front of the camera!”

“Cheol, can you please be serious about this? My career is hanging by a thread!”

“It was just a petty dispute, people will forget about it in a few days,” Seungcheol replies calmly, “You just got a champagne bath, you weren’t caught by the police for drug trafficking.”

“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound as bad.”

“See? You just need to be chill about it. It’s not the end of the world.”

“But still, she sounded so fucking entitled, like?”

“Well, she’s a top class influencer, what did you expect?”

“She’s a what now?”

“Really now, Josh?” Seungcheol sighs in disappointment.

"I'm a photographer, not someone who sells fairytales and Pinterest-related stuff on social media." Joshua scoffs.

"It still doesn't change the fact that you live under a rock."

"I was literally invited to Fashion Week, fuck you Cheol."

"Either way, I suggest you look into her social media, just to be prepared."

"Fine, whatever - Wait, prepared for what?"

"For any possible scenario!"

"You said that it wasn't something serious not too long ago!"

"I did. But it's always wise to have a backup plan in case things go south."

"That last bit felt really ominous…."

"You can always not pay attention to me!"

"Don't you have a job to do?"

"I am my own boss, in case you're forgetting." Seungcheol snickers.

"You remind me with every chance you get…" Joshua groans.

"I love you too, Josh. Gotta go now, buddy, it was nice talking to you."

"Good luck out there, Cheol."

"Could say the same for ya."

Joshua ends the call and drops his phone on the mattress, deciding to get dressed and visit the hotel restaurant for some brunch.

His phone rings again, but it's multiple notifications this time.

"Someone's impatient…" He mutters to himself as he picks up his phone again.

seungcheol: I fear I might have jinxed your downfall

seungcheol: please stay calm while you're reading the next screenshot

seungcheol has sent a photo.

Joshua opens the photo and carefully reads the white text on the black background, the blood in his body steadily rushing to his head.

Hello, this is Y/N. I am writing this post to address the situation that occured last night in San Servolo. 

First of all, I am deeply sorry for the trouble I caused to the rest of the guests and the organizers of the event, as it does not reflect the person I truly am. However, I must say that major damages occurred due to mister Joshua Hong's carelessness, since the outfit I donned was custom made by the house of Prada.

I am willing to put this unfortunate incident to rest, as long as the perpetrator is also willing to compensate for the damages made.

Once again, I am sorry for the trouble I caused. 

"What the fuck is this?!" Joshua yells in the middle of his room and rapidly types back to Seungcheol.

joshua: IS SHE FUCKING SERIOUS

joshua: COMPENSATION? SHE DELIBERATELY RUINED MY CLOTHES TOO

seungcheol: josh calm down for Christ's sake

joshua: how am I supposed to calm down after this??

joshua: bitch took her own narrative and ran with it

joshua: bet you this is already circling around the gossip tabloids

seungcheol: do you want me to contact my lawyer and see what we can do?

joshua: no not yet

joshua: desperate times call for desperate measures

seungcheol: joshua please don't

Joshua chooses to ignore his friend's texts and reaches out for the telephone on his nighstand, in order to call the reception.

He knows Prada has reserved rooms for all the ambassadors in this hotel, so you must be staying in the same hotel as him.

"Hotel Baglioni de Luna, how may I help you?"

"Good morning, this is Joshua Hong."

"Oh, hello sir Hong! What can I do for you?"

"If it is possible, could you perhaps tell me if miss…Y/N L/N is present in her room?"

"She called not too long ago to ask about the morning buffet. I supposed she must be taking breakfast."

"Thank you kindly for your help." 

"Have a good morning, sir Hong."

Definitely not good, but might as well make it hell for her, Joshua thinks as he ends the call. 

He gets up and opens his closet, taking out a pair of jeans and a linen shirt, quickly changing into them. He slips on his shoes and grabs his phone, room key and wallet before he leaves.

"Let's see what you will do now, miss Y/N."

If Satan had an only child, you would probably be the one.

You're happily enjoying your breakfast together with Liz right next to the pool, humming a happy tune as you take a bite from your cookie.

"Is it really possible to be so happy from one person's misery?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, darling." You reply with a smile on your face.

Liz sighs deeply and resumes eating her breakfast.

"There you are, you poisonous bitch!"

The loud voice nearly makes the girl jump from her seat, but you remain unfazed, until Joshua is stomping his way to your table, slamming his phone on the surface.

"What do you think you're doing?" You look at him with narrowed eyes.

"I should be asking you that question!" He shoves the phone in your face with your statement on it, "Compensation? Contacting the company?! Bitch, we're ambassadors of the same brand!"

"Yet you were the first one to ruin my outfit!" You angrily get up from your seat.

"And you were the one who ruined mine on purpose!" Joshua retaliates.

"Both of you, please stop causing a scene again, everyone is looking!" Liz tries to separate the two of you, noticing how everyone is staring at you and Joshua, just like last night.

"Perhaps I should release a statement as well and sue you for defamation - At least I'm kind enough to warn you beforehand." He spits with a venomous tone.

"Oh, because that would be so beneficial to someone who is as insignificant as you. Freelance photographer, my ass. You're just another paparazzi who wants the few minutes of fame!" 

Your words make Joshua furious beyond the point of return and he picks up your coffee cup, splashing it all over you in the same manner you threw champagne on him.

"There, now we're even, you dramatic bitch."

"Mister Hong!" Liz yells at him, "What is wrong with you?!"

You grit your teeth and raise your right hand, immediately slapping him across the face with full force, making sure it left a handprint on his face.

"You are the worst person I've ever met in my life!"

"I could say the same about you!"

Your anger consumes you and you physically lunge yourself at him, pulling him by the shirt to tackle him. Unfortunately for you, he's much stronger than you and he manages to retain his balance, giving him an opening to push you against the table and knock over some of the plates.

"You asshole!" You yell and get back on your feet, pushing Joshua away. This time, he actually loses his balance and falls into the pool.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yells at you as he tries to get out of the pool.

"You're the one who made me do it in the first place!"

Liz stands at the sidelines, watching the scene unfold with horror and she runs to one of the waiters without hesitation.

"Call the hotel security, or the police! Just call someone, please!"

The waiter nods and rushes to the mini bar, shortly asking the staff to alert the security.

Only a couple of minutes later, two men of the hotel security barge through the glass doors and make their way to the pool, where two more waiters are trying to separate you from Joshua.

"Stop right there!" They yell and apprehend the both of you, waving at the waiters to stand aside.

"Let me go! He's the one who started it!" You yell out loud.

"You can say that to the police when they arrive," the other man informs you, "you've already caused a great deal of discomfort to the rest of the guests and damages to the area."

"But-"

"Oh, just shut up already!" Joshua curses at you again.

"I don't remember asking for your opinion, asshole!"

The security have to forcefully bring you down to the ground level of the hotel, where two police cars are parked outside the entrance. 

"One of your staff told us about the situation, that's why we brought two vehicles - we can't suffer damages either." The police officer explains as he handcuffs you and Joshua separately, leading you towards the cars.

"Wait!" Liz runs outside, "Let me go with her!"

"We cannot allow that, Miss. You might be called in later by the officers for a testimony, but that's all you can do."

"Liz!" You shout from inside the car.

"Yes ma'am?!"

"Call my lawyer and tell her everything!"

"Will do!" She shouts back and watches the officers return in the vehicles, taking you and Joshua away.

She looks behind her, multiple guests and hotel staff discussing with disapproval written all over their faces. It's guaranteed that photos and videos will already circulate the Internet and the damage control will be insanely hard to complete.

"Lord give me the strength to pull through this."

[escarlatellie]

my heart's mistaken ; ellie williams. (4.9k.)

⤿ f!reader, modern!au, anxiety attack (you), lowercase on purpose, hurt/comfort (?) confessing your feelings & misunderstanding trope my favorite!! title inspired by heaven / troye sivan.

⤿ returning to your hometown after leaving for five years, you're met with a mix of kindness, worry, and rage. when dina ends up scaring you away (though she has the best of intentions), you crash into the one person you'd run away from all those years ago, and end up having to face the feelings you'd been so afraid of.

“thanks for letting me crash,” you whisper, only half paying attention to whatever kdrama dina has playing on her old flatscreen. you shoot her a look, and she responds in kind with the one-finger salute before getting back to chatting with whoever she’s on the phone with; you’re not self-centered enough to try and drag her away from it, since you’re technically the one intruding. 

a part of you worries, briefly, that your being here is a problem. understandably so, since you’d up and left everything and everyone here without a word of goodbye five years ago. typically, you’d expect all of your old friends to be pissed, right? you’ve had years to consider going back, reason winning over the fear that you’d harbored when you left. you’d given dina just a couple days' warning, which felt good enough regardless of the hovering anxiety surrounding the idea that she’d call everyone and tell them. 

you weren’t ready for that, and it seemed as if she knew that too. 

your bag had felt heavy, slung over one shoulder as you rode the elevator up to her quaint little apartment, which you’d taken the liberty of looking at on her social media; something she had every right to keep from you after so long, but offered up anyway. your eyes water at the distinctive warmth of home you get from being back here, the security you feel settling into a place you haven’t been in in a while. 

what was great, actually, was the way she’d greeted you. dina’s just sweet like that. she’d had her phone cradled between her ear and shoulder, a birman cat cradled in her arms, clawing at her top as she swung the door open. regardless of what you presumed was absolute chaos on her end, she smiled at you, reached out with her just barely-freed hand and pulled you into her place by the shirt. when the door shut, you’d barely had time to collect yourself before the small birmin was cuddling up to your legs and inviting you in.

there was no awkwardness, just a sense of familiarity as dina cooed her cat and gestured towards the hall’s tiny little closet; hang up your stuff there, she mouthed, just as excruciatingly hospitable as she’d been five years ago. you figured any dismissal or worry you showed would be shut down the moment you spoke on it, because dina’s just..like that, so you did exactly what she told you to do, hung your stuff up, and had been promptly dragged to her little living area and thrown onto the couch. 

just let me finish cooking, she’d mouthed once again before getting back to her call, and off she’d gone. that left you here, knees pulled up to your chest as you pondered what exactly it was you were doing here, or what you planned to achieve by coming home. you had a whole life back where you’ve been staying, a place you could call home even though it hadn’t felt as..safe as here did. something was calling you back, a gut feeling which had been nagging at you for a while and it’d been long enough for you to think screw it, pack your stuff, and figure out where you could stay before taking the nearest train back home.

if you were being honest with yourself, you knew what was calling you home. though life back where you were living was good, the one thing lacking was love. it’s not as if you weren’t loved by the friends you’d made there, nor as if you hadn’t tried, because christ, you’d tried so hard to find someone, but every attempt had been a massive fail. most of the time, they were great people, mature and committed, but nothing had ever felt right and you’d grown to accept the fact that you weren’t built for it until you went through some of your old stuff and found a picture of you and an old friend all those years ago. 

you’re not exactly sure what it was about the picture that triggered it—perhaps it was the pose, your expressions as you two fucked around, or what was going on in the back—, but now, for some reason, it was folded nicely in the back of your phone case and you were back home looking for this person. ellie williams, you thought, thumbing at the case and wondering whether or not it’d be weird to take it out right now, where dina could see it. god, you’d seem like a creep. 

williams, for all you know, could’ve run off and started a life of her own outside of the city. williams, for all you fucking know, could’ve crashed her car and died in a fucking ditch, never to be seen again. williams could’ve gotten over you long before she stopped trying to call you. she could hate you, now. she might not even be the same person she was all those years ago. god fucking knows what she’s up to, and you might just be wasting your time looking for her here. 

you think back to what’d caused this mess—it was one night, a stupid choice while the two of you had been drunk out of your minds just after your second-year first-semester finals. you’d tumbled into ellie’s bedroom, messed around a little, then next thing you knew you were waking up at hell in the morning sore all over with ellie’s arm draped over your waist. 

it was a fucking nightmare because as you’d tried to sneak out, joel’d caught you and sat you down for coffee in their little, horrendously well-decorated and lived-in kitchen as he sat oblivious to your dilemma of when the fuck is ellie gonna wake up, when can i get out of here, and only let you go once he heard ellie’s footsteps and a faint call of your name from upstairs. 

you’re not even sure if he knew, if anyone knew that you two had anything going on. you hadn’t stuck around long to find out, as you’d practically raced out of their house and ghosted the poor girl. you’d barely spoken to any of your friends aside from the occasional i’m okay messages you’d shot to dina right up until you left. then, you stopped speaking to everyone because as a fucking nineteen-year-old, you were falling for someone—you had fallen a long time ago—, your best friend, and said best friend was in love with someone else.

really, how was dina so chill about you coming over after so long? you knew she was a good person, but even the best of people would have completely lost it. she’d left you alone when you’d come in, had been kind enough to let you relax and get used to being here again, but a part of you knew the second she got off the phone, she’d be on your ass about it. 

it wasn’t as if you’d expected anything different. as a matter of fact, you’d been prepping yourself for it since you boarded the train hours ago. telling her why and explaining the circumstances along with your feelings at the time would probably end you up in shambles, but she deserved to know. despite the effort you’d put in to try and forget her, too, she was the only person who’d worried about you the entire time. it was hard to forget someone like that.

that urges a pang in your heart; obviously, you’d never really gotten over ellie.

“hey,” 

dina’s voice whips you out of your own thoughts. she’s holding two dishes, presumably the food she cooked though she’s standing and is too high up for you to be able to see. she sets them both down on her little coffee table and curls up on the other end of the couch, lower lip tucked tightly between her teeth as she figures out what to say. honestly, you figure you should spare her the trouble and start with your well-practiced, yet still unbelievably nerve-wracking apology, not because guilt is eating away at you (though it is), but because she deserves it. 

so does everyone else, but one thing at a time. 

“dina, i’ve kinda accepted the whole i’m an absolute piece of shit thing, so don’t try and deny it or anything, okay? jesus christ, it was so fucking stupid. cutting you guys off like that was so screwed up, i can’t even imagine how you felt. you didn’t deserve that,”

you’re about to continue, pausing to take a breath when dina cuts you off with one of her disgustingly sympathetic chuckles. nothing has changed, you think, because this is something you’ve already prepped yourself for; one of dina’s lectures, spoken through teary eyes, has been long expected since even before you’d messaged her for the first time in a while. 

“yeah, no one did, you idiot. we were all so fucking worried about you. do you know how often ellie called me, before you dropped off the face of the fucking planet, to ask if you were okay? god, she was crying,” dina cuts herself off with another laugh, this time watery, a stark contrast to how she’d greeted you earlier. the idea that she’d been just as scared as you, though, is shoved back promptly at the heartbreaking image of ellie, your best friend, bawling her eyes out, because you left her after sleeping with her, for fuck’s sakes. 

when you zone back in, dina’s still going and you’d be completely open to listening to her if guilt wasn’t already causing tears. her voice has lost any sympathy, and it sounds a lot more emotionally driven than it had been when she’d greeted you earlier. “i don’t get it. you left us, you didn’t even say goodbye– you ghosted ellie—”

“i was scared, dina,”, you cut her off, and this time regret makes its presence known in your gut.

“of what? your best friend? just cause you slept with her once, god,” dina mutters your name under the hand she has over the lower half of your face in disbelief. if anyone, the person who should be in disbelief is you, you think, because shit, dina knew? 

how many other people did, you let your mind wander, and shit, your fight or flight instinct is kicking in.

“she told you,” your wide-eyed gaze was enough to scare dina out of her outrage, because even if you deserved to be berated for this, she still considered you a friend—family, if she was being honest with herself—, and seeing you afraid felt like a dagger stabbing through her chest. she’d already figured you’d feel bad for it, leaving just like that, that you’d regret it, and at first wanted to comfort you before the sight of her best friend sobbing in her arms makes its return, ellie’s watery gaze as she crowded into dina’s apartment five years ago looking for you because she couldn’t find you at your place fueling her rage; who leaves their best friend, just like that? you just… you were gone.

if dina reacted like this, your thoughts wander, and it hurts. how is everyone else going to react? 

you glance over at her tiny little analog clock, seated just under the tv, on a cute little shelf that you would’ve liked to look through under different circumstances, to check the time. it reads 3:09 pm, and the scared little kid in you is sure that if you run you’ll make it onto the next train by 3:30 and make it home by dusk. 

“yeah, she did,” you hear dina say, but it sounds distant, far away, because you’re panicking. you don’t even hear her mention ellie coming over, or the fact that no one else knew, as far as she’s aware through your rush to get up and out.

dina shouts as you rush to the door, left unlocked and you swear you’d turn around and yell at her to be more careful, and to lock her doors if you weren’t so intent on leaving, but you just tear it open and slam it shut on your way out. you try not to think about the fact that everyone knows and might hate you or the fact that everyone knows and must have figured you were in love with her, because both are causing your heart rate to stutter and pick up in your chest, but it’s rather difficult when you’re quite literally surrounded by memories. 

dina’s calls of your name echo down the hallway, but you’ve already turned the corner and are making your way down the stairwell before your guilty conscience can pull you to a stop. you almost pull open those heavy-duty parking garage doors, only belatedly realizing you went too far down but craving fresh air so badly that you don’t care. you collect yourself enough to realize it’s a fucking push door, chill the fuck out as you push it open and let the cool air engulf you.

what comes as yet another surprise, though, is the heavy metal door’s collision with a whole person on the other side. you hear them curse as it knocks into them, sending them stumbling a couple of steps back just before you let go and slip out yourself, the door closing quickly behind you—practically slamming—thanks to the impact it made on the unsuspecting stranger.

“fuck, ow, shit, jesus christ, ow!”

now that you’re not caught off-guard by their existence, the stranger’s voice strikes you in a way no other person’s voice has. their consistent stream of curses easily brings you back to instances years before, when the possible love of your life had put herself into the same kinds of unfortunate situations and couldn’t control her language. 

then, you realize, this sounds like her, reminds you of her, because it is her, and your heart rate is picking up for a whole different reason entirely. ellie williams is in front of you and you just smacked her with a door. if you’re lucky, she won’t recognize you until she ends up seeing dina because why else would she be here and you can go about your life pretending this never happened, but then the idea that she’s coming to see dina because they’re together pops into your head and you’re frozen to the spot. 

“i’m so sorry, christ, that was so stupid. are you okay?” 

you find your body speaking for you before it can consult your brain, and then ellie’s eyes are on you rather than the floor as she clutches whatever’d been damaged in that collision. you really don’t want to describe your gazes colliding as anything magical or relieving because it was anything but; it only heightens your anxiety and brings about the sudden worrying of your lips and ellie’s shocked countenance. 

you’re terrified.

“um, again, i’m so sorry, but i have somewhere to be, so,” you bow your head slightly and turn to leave through the stairwell even though that’s exactly where you came from, and likely where ellie’s going, and god, you must look so fucking stupid right now. maybe it’s not even ellie, maybe your anxiety’s peaked so far up you’re starting to hallucinate and you just decided to walk away from a random stranger who you’ve smacked with a fucking door—

you don’t even realize the guest keycard dina’s sent you on your phone isn’t properly aligned with the scanner in your rush to get out.

ellie’s utterance of your name must be your breaking point, because all of a sudden tears are springing to your eyes and you’re having trouble breathing. this is why you ran away, this is why you hadn’t even considered coming home, this feeling is fucking terrifying because the only person that has ever pulled it from you is ellie and her being oblivious to how much you love her. 

ellie fucking williams is reaching out and trying to fix your shaky hold on your phone so you can open the fucking door when her hand is just as shakey as your own.

“if you didn’t wanna see me, i’m sure dina could’ve just—”

“you’re blaming this on her when you knew i was coming?” your voice comes out weak, but loud, and you see her flinch at your tone because ellie has never been the type to avoid being where she wasn’t wanted, but when it came to you she’d respect what you wanted no matter what. she’d been the only person to sit with you as you went through shit like this, and now she must think she was the cause.

“no, no! i didn’t, fuck, what’s wrong with you?” she asks. it’s not meant to be accusatory, a part of you knows that ellie just sucks at being all open and vulnerable—at least the ellie you knew did—, but the other part is afraid and feeling defensive and it wins against the other in a fight for reason as you choke out a disbelieving laugh, turning around and shoving her as far away from you as she can get.

“nothing’s wrong, i just have somewhere to be—”

“this is the first time we see each other in five goddamn years, and you say you have somewhere else to be?!”

ellie’s voice breaks at the question, and you swear you feel your heart shatter in your chest once you see the look she gives you; it’s true, pulling the i have places to be card was a dick move, but you’re in the midst of what feels like an anxiety attack and arguing with the supposed love of your life is not what you need right now. honest to god, all you want is to leave, get the fuck out of this town, and pretend nothing happened in the first place because being back there is ten times better than dealing with your fucking feelings and facing rejection head-on.

“don’t you!? this is dina’s place, i’m not stupid!” 

“what the fuck are you talking about!?”

she should know, you think, the two of you had spent hours either on-call, out, or in either of your respective bedrooms talking about ellie’s massive crush on dina and how she was going to ask the girl out. every day, you’d urge her to just get it over with because there’s no way she doesn’t feel the same. 

understandably so, because had anyone else seen the way the two of them looked at each other all those years ago, they would think they were a match made in heaven, too. perhaps to ellie, you think, it wasn’t that big of a deal and was an easy little crush to forget about, but to you? the best friend who had been in love with ellie since she was, at the very least, sixteen years old and struggling with comphet? it was like being shot over and over again until you were completely numb to it. 

it was your whole world, and you haven’t let go of those childish and immature feelings yet. 

“i’m so glad you got the girl, ellie, god knows i was rooting for you,” 

you see her face fall. “...what? dina and i, we aren’t..”

“you don’t have to lie to make me feel better, jesus christ, i’m not some stupid—”

“shut the hell up for a second,” ellie cuts you off. this time, she’s putting up an act, you can tell. what she’s using it to hide, though, you’re unsure of because ellie has always been really good at pretending when she actually wants to. 

you can’t tell if she’s trying to make you feel any worse by laughing, though. it’s not gleeful, or amused, in fact it sounds aggravated and it’s scaring you a little bit, because ellie’s only ever laughed like that just before she swung at a couple idiots in high school (like the idiot she is, really) or before cursing out some bigot in the middle of a busy club or group outing. 

“you need to fucking breathe,” she exhales, and it feels like your airway opens just a little at her words alone. ellie’s care has only ever been shown to those she’s close to, since she’s always been too afraid to open up and show that kind of vulnerability, so the fact that she’s showing it to the person who ditched her and fuck—you’re reminded of dina’s words—, the person that made her cry, gives you the kind of relief you don’t feel like you deserve.

“i’m not…with dina. she’s pregnant with jesse’s kid, for fuck’s sake.” 

the admission makes your heart stop, something you hadn’t even considered—understandably so, given the fact dina identified as a lesbian when you’d up and left all those years ago—even though, now, thinking back, there were pictures on those shelves, sonograms, and…

“oh”, you breathe out, feeling the sudden need to go up and check if dina’s okay because god, you’re so stupid, you made a pregnant woman—god knows how far along she is—run around her fucking apartment complex looking for you, made her stress out because you were acting like a fucking child.

jesus christ, what is wrong with you, you think, and practically collapse onto the dirty ass floor of the parking garage. you pull your knees up to your chest in a near-fetal position as every bit of anxiety seeps out of you, allowing yourself to relax, now knowing dina and ellie aren’t together but also granting guilt full access to your conscience. it’s both a relief and a nightmare all at once.

“i’m so sorry,” you force out, and figure this is the only time you’ll ever be able to get it out. at least you’ll walk out with no regrets; your relationship with ellie is damaged enough as is, so the revelation of your feelings will only act as another reason to forget about each other’s existence. it’s a win-win, you tell yourself, even though the idea of losing her for real is ripping you apart. 

you tug your phone out of your pocket, ignoring the stream of notifications from dina, asking where you are and, again—something that will never fail in making your throat close up and bring tears to your eyes—if you’re okay. this time, away from prying eyes, you’re free to take out the picture without judgment. your phone case falls to the floor along with the picture, and you try to pretend you don’t feel ellie’s eyes burning into the top of your head. 

all of her attention is on you and it hurts. 

“i found this. last week.” you start, and unfold the paper. your hand is surprisingly steady as you hold it out to her, anxiety pooling in your gut when she takes it from you and your fingers brush just enough to send sparks racing up your arm and into your chest; to your heart. 

“it was in a box of a bunch of old stuff. i guess that’s when i realized i missed you guys. where i am now, i guess, it felt like i was just staying there, you know? like i was visiting or some shit. it didn’t feel like a place i could call home.”

ellie’s gaze flits between your face and the paper. she even goes as far as flipping it over and reading the date written on the back; something scrawled unevenly that you’d already memorized. it was taken not long before the two of you graduated high school, and there’s still a little bit of mischief sparkling behind your eyes, your closeness evident even through a cheap piece of film. 

“i know you know i left for a reason,” you start, and cringe because you’re already expecting her to ask in the same harshness that dina did, if it was because you slept together one time. 

“fucking figured, yeah,” she mutters, but it’s her way of telling you to continue.

“i um,” you swallow past the lump in your throat, “i was missing you. i couldn’t—” and your voice breaks again, this time you don’t have the chance to stop it. “there was something missing, ellie. i ran away because i couldn’t stay after—”

“after you slept with me?”, she tries to finish for you, but it sounds wrong coming from her; her tone screams defeat, it screams acknowledgement and unbidden heartbreak, and it genuinely tears you right the fuck apart. you freeze up a little, because it was something you’d considered time and time again while you were away, the idea that ellie thinks you ran away because it was her you’d slept with, because you thought it was weird and that she’d forced herself on you, because that’s just the way ellie is, but you’d ignored it solely because being rejected would’ve felt worse than knowing your best friend was blaming herself.

man, you felt like such a dick. 

“no, ellie, i love you, you fucking idiot. i ran away because i’d just slept with the love of my fucking life.” 

the look she gives you fills you with an unbridled sense of hope, even though ellie’s given you that look before. she’s given you hope before, too, for years. honestly, even before you’d realized you were in love with her, she’d give you that kind of hope. maybe she loves me too? your teenage self would ponder, and then would have her heart broken once again every time ellie’d bring up dina and have the two of you waste your night chatting about her. 

so you shove that feeling down and try to finish. 

“i stopped talking to you because i knew i needed to get over it. i know now that was complete bullshit, and i shouldn’t have just…walked away like that. fuck, ellie, dina said you cried about it, shit, i’m so sorry—” 

“don’t.” she cuts you off, and if she weren’t holding onto the last physical memory of her that you own, you would have gotten up and left. anything to avoid her rejection, anything to avoid hearing it from her mouth and have her feelings clarified to your face—it’s going to sting, you know, it’ll feel like a slap to the fucking face even though it’s what you’re expecting.

“you’re seriously not the only idiot here. i don’t actually think i ever actually liked dina,” ellie starts, and you don’t dare look at her, staring at the floor next to your feet. she’s only saying this to make me feel better, you think, because ellie’s just like that. you realize you’ve been making that excuse all afternoon, but really don’t see a point in stopping, it’s what’s gotten you this far.

“i loved seeing the look on your face whenever i talked about her, though. you were always really into it, the whole romance thing, and it felt nice having your eyes on me, you know?” 

she stares at the paper, and god, ellie thinks, was it obvious to everyone but you? how the hell couldn’t you have noticed? the way she’s looking at you in this picture, dina—who had taken it herself—had to remind her to be subtle about it or she’d be found out immediately. honestly, ellie was a lost cause with you, but the fact that you’d run away from her because, what…you were afraid? after sleeping with her, because…

“you thought i hadn’t felt the same way.”, she says, and then everything clicks into place. ellie’s hushed utter of your name prompts your gaze on her, and she returns that look with just as much intensity. she’s not sure she’s ever wanted someone to understand something as much as she wants you to understand this right now.

“you’re so fucking stupid, you idiot. it’s always been you. i still love you.”

ellie, having gotten down onto the floor herself in the middle of her little monologue, scooches towards you and picks your discarded phone case up off the floor. it takes you a second, still… processing her words, believing them, to realize she’s holding her hand out for your phone, and you scramble to give it to her. 

she fumbles with the case and the picture, folding it up nicely so it’ll fit into the back before ensuring the case and the picture are securely back where they belong. she stares at your case, different than the one you’d had all those years ago, and figures she has to decorate it the same way she had all those years ago. 

it was her mark on you, those ugly stickers, folded-up gum wrappers, random concert tickets and any shit she’d find that’d been given to you as gifts, things that she honest to god never saw you throw out. right now, ellie’s hoping you’ll give her the chance to fill it up again, leave parts of her somewhere you’ll never forget them, and belatedly realizes you’ve never actually forgotten her even though you’d only dug up this picture about a week before.

“i’m so sorry,” you start again, and ellie’s just about as sick of hearing you apologize as someone who’s hopelessly in love with their ex-best-friend can be. so she cuts you off by tossing your phone carelessly at your face, earning a yelp of surprise, before scooching even closer to you and leaning in far enough that her chin can come down to rest on your knees.

“stop fucking apologizing and kiss me.”, she says, and the press of your lips against hers calms you like nothing else ever will.

[radioactive-reactions]

Just a quick little idea for a reaction, could you maybe do companions (and maybe Mr. House) finding out that the Courier is a pre-war ghoul?

Of course! The New Vegas fandom has just celebrated Mr. House's 4th birthday, so consider this my small contribution.

Ghouls were anything but uncommon in the Mojave, but those who had lived through the Great War were particularly exceptional. Everyone knew about the ghoulish Courier - zombies rising from the grave made good saloon talk, after all - but only those closest to them were trusted with the knowledge of just how old they were.

Raul is just happy to have another viejo around to commiserate with. Invariably, he begins to keep the two up long into the night trading stories of the Old World - and more often than not, the Old World's failings - around the campfire. "Hey, boss, you... you remember Cuna de Lobos? Ahh, the bomb dropped right at the end of Season 91, just when Catalina was about to show everyone what she'd been keeping stashed under her eyepatch. My grandmother would have killed to see it. She could have, too."

Boone is as unflinchingly stone-faced as ever, and his thoughts are quickly summed up in three succinct words: "I pity you." There's a moment of consideration, a realization that he may have gone too far, and he tries again. "You and all the... others. There are a few in the service. You knew what came before. Saw it with your own eyes. Christ, the rest of us must be like kids playing dressup to you. In your shoes, wouldn't have bothered staying around to see how it'd all turn out. No point."

Veronica has a million questions. Try as the Brotherhood might to hoard pre-War knowledge, she's never come quite as close to a living, breathing repository of it as she is now. "Wait, wait, back up, like... five steps. You're telling me you could walk into the bunker anytime you please and totally school Elder McNamara and you've just been sitting on that?! Oh my God! Okay, okay - is it true that every kid back then was raised by a robot slave? A-and did you really have to ritually encase all your food in Jell-O before you ate it?"

Cass gives an impressed whistle, looking the Courier up and down just to make sure they haven't actually been feral this entire time. "Fuck me. Uh, that's not an invitation - I don't want anything falling off. But that'd make you, what, two-hundred-something? Older than the Republic, the way they tell it. We've got some Rangers like that, supposedly the ultimate badasses if you look past the bad knees and the death rattle... but between you and me, I think you've got a sturdier claim to the title."

Arcade freezes up at the news, getting that awkward, wavering smile he always flashes when he's backed into a corner. "Wow. Uh... hey. Just so we're clear, I in no way endorse - o-or endorsed - the whole Enclave 'cleansing of the world's tainted' thing. I'd like to think that goes without saying, given the way my life has gone since then, but... just so we're clear. Uh, if you need any kind of specialized care, please just say the word. I've given Beatrix enough topical collagen to fill a bathtub... if one inexplicably wanted to do something like that."

Lily doesn't quite seem to get it, bless her heart, but enough careful explanation does slowly get her to regard the Courier as more of an equal than a grandkid. "MY MISTAKE! YOU DON'T LOOK A DAY OVER A HUNDRED, DEAR. WHATEVER YOU USE, I'VE JUST GOT TO GET DOCTOR HENRY TO MAKE ME SOME! IF I HADN'T MADE A PROMISE TO MY HUSBAND, REST HIS SOUL, I COULD JUST EAT YOU UP."

Mr. House predictably uses this as ammunition to further his own plans. There's no change in the face on the flickering screen, but whatever cold mental calculus drives him moves the Courier up a few spaces in his strictly regimented list of priorities. "Then you, more than anybody, understand what we have to lose - or rather, what we have to gain. Put another way, you are in a unique position to understand the resources at my disposal. Imagine the luxuries you enjoyed before the barbarians in Washington reduced you to this base, hardscrabble existence among the ruins of their shortsightedness - and I think you'll appreciate that ruins isn't simply a turn of phrase here. Imagine having them again: not just the house and the car, not just the material indulgences, but the structure that made them possible - will continue to make them possible. We alone know what's been lost, and we alone hold the potential to see it returned."

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 21. blasphemy kink

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “take me to church”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ christmas is all about celebrating the birth of jesus… swiss wants to show you off to him

pairing: swiss ghoul x gn!reader

a/n: this is so nasty i need to be put in jail ‼️ and yes this was inspired from the song by hozier, so like— i envisioned this with a male reader 😳

cw: nsfw content. blasphemy kink. religious reader. grinding. groping. dubcon. degradation. slight corruption kink too. hickeys and marking. implied virginity loss.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

“you know what… let them watch, let the gods hear how good i make you feel.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

you’ve been good all your life.

no rules have been broken, no corners have been cut. you were the perfect follower of christ. an obedient little puppy that never complained and always did what they were told.

and you were perfectly fine with that kind of life. it was a simple life. nothing too drastic or exciting, but the church has taught you that exciting usually led to sin. and you believed that well, considering that some of your fellow peers have fallen into the rabbit hole of excitement, and got their purity tainted by the cruel realities of the world.

and with no god to protect them too.

what a shame. they turned their faith away for some cheap fun. it wasn’t worth it, you constantly told yourself.

so you kept to yourself, keeping your head low and following every little order you were given, including keeping up with your daily prayers.

and that’s exactly what you were doing right now. kneeled in front of the altar that was placed in front of a shrine with the lord himself, you silently spoke your prayers and thanks to the portrait of jesus himself, being sure to express your gratitude for having such an amazing leader such as him. it was getting closer to christmas, and you wanted to show off your gratefulness to the lord on his birthday. the altar was beautifully decorated with symbols of the jesus himself displayed around the shrine, each offering dedicated as a gift. it was treated so sacredly by the church, not even a speck of dust was in sight of the shrine. perfect and pure, just the way it should be.

no sign of it being corrupted by something evil.

as you finished the last of your prayers, your eyes fluttered open slowly, a small smile forming on your facial features. while you were about to leave, you heard the sound of footsteps scurrying around the nave of the church, and your eyes opened more widely to try and look for the source of the sound.

nothing.

you tilted your head, and called out, slowly getting up from the kneeling position.

“hello?” you called out, voice filled with a slight amount of hesitance. silence. no voice was there to answer your calls.

maybe it was just something you heard.

shrugging, you sighed and turned back around to face the altar, planning on giving your last thanks to the lord. but as you closed your eyes to speak, a sudden force had pushed you onto the altar, forcefully bending you over the surface, making you gasp.

you tried to scream, but a dark, calloused hand clamped over your lips instantly, muffling your screams. you felt something slither around your waist and tighten on your body, it felt like a tail. at the same time, someone’s knee shoved in between your legs, forcing your legs apart.

you whined and tried to thrash your body around to break free, but this person’s grip was too strong. they growled, and tightened their grip on your mouth, leaning down to whisper harshly into your ear.

“stop struggling.” he spoke gruffly. you could feel the tip of his tongue tickle your earlobe, and your eyes widened when you felt the pointed tip, knowing exactly what this was.

a demon. there was rumor going around of an unholy force of nature roaming within the walls of your church, you just weren’t sure about how true that was. with this new knowledge, you let out a muffled scream into the ghoul’s hand, still trying to break free from his death grip.

the ghoul seemed to notice how much more you panicked, and he chuckled darkly. ah, swiss loved that, seeing this human just trying so hard to get away from him. he found it so cute.

“awh what’s the matter? scared of a big, bad demon like me? don’t worry, i won’t bite.” swiss cooed in a taunting, mocking manner that kept you on edge. he then smirked. “unless you’re into that, sweet thing.”

shoot. this was a rather vulgar ghoul too. you didn’t want your innocence to be ruined by this infernal, that was unruly. still trying to scream, you struggled even harder. swiss only grunted and held you down even further against the altar.

“hey hey hey, cutie… stop moving around like that. unless you want me to rip out that tongue out of your pretty little mouth, i suggest you stop struggling.” swiss’ voice was slightly more threatening.

“do what you do best, angel. obey.”

you didn’t want to test this demon’s patience. if there’s one thing you know about infernals, it’s that they’re unpredictable little scamps. you weren’t about to lose your life to this ghoul, so you reluctantly obeyed.

swiss sighed in satisfaction. “there we go… much better. i’m going to remove my hand now, don’t even think about screaming.”

he slowly moved his hand away from your mouth, and you let out a few rasp pants, trying to catch your breath from the rush of adrenaline that took over your body. you tried to look back at the demon to catch any of his features, but his face was obstructed in the dark.

“w-what are you going to do to me?” you asked fearfully, worried about what this man was going to do to you.

swiss just chuckled and clacked his claws against the altar, acting like he was pondering about what to do with you, but in his mind he already had plans.

“oh you know..” he started out. “just going to have a little bit of fun with you.”

before you could even respond, swiss forces one of your legs up, hooking your leg around his waist from behind. you let out a quiet yelp from this sudden action, and you’re quickly cut off when you felt this ghoul start to grind into your sensitive nether regions from behind. you gasped loudly, and tried to move away, but swiss’ grip was tight on you, and he groaned while grinding his hardened bulge into you.

swiss was pushing you down on the altar hard, and your hands tried to grasp at any surface to take what swiss was giving you. in the process, your hands unintentionally knocked down some offerings on the altar that were meant for the lord himself, making you gasp at your mistakes. oh no. not only were you getting it on with one of satan’s creations, but you were also blatantly disrespecting christ with you carelessly knocking over the items that solely belonged to him.

the ghoul noticed your panic from how you knocked off the things, and he smirked. lifting your hips up slightly, he ground into your hips harder, making you both gasp and moan from the feeling.

“mmmh… not so innocent now, eh? look at you… knocking over your savior’s stuff like that.” swiss mocked cruelly, still grinding into you while you helplessly moaned.

“what a bad follower you’ve been.” he finished off. you didn’t even have a response to that, you just moaned pathetically underneath his hold.

swiss took this as a sign, and was planning to take full advantage of it. he dipped his head down into your neck and started kissing it aggressively. his sharp fangs ghosted over your flesh as he sucked on the sensitive parts of your neck harshly, leaving fresh, reddish-purple hickeys that would definitely sting later on. each touch he was giving you only made you moan louder underneath him, and all for the gods to see.

it was so humiliating, and pathetic. how dare you, engage in sexual activities before marriage, let alone with a demon. it was anarchy. you’d definitely get kicked out of the church if they ever found out about this.

but at the same time.. oh you’ve never felt anything so good in your entire life. you hated that you wanted more, it went against everything you were ever taught.

the multi ghoul growled into your ear and kept his tail wrapped around your waist tightly. his hands wandered down to the front of your waist, and his hands wandered between your legs, groping and squeezing pleasurably at your sensitive privates, making you squeal with delight.

“a-aahh!” you cried out, and swiss marveled at the sound.

“fuck. didn’t know ya had it in you, bunny. moaning like a whore, all for your savior to see.” swiss mocked, his gaze piercing into your soul. he grabbed a handful of your hair, and forced your head up with a whine, making you look up at the portrait of the man you owed your life to.

“i bet he’s so disappointed in you right now. seeing you act like a bitch in heat, getting your innocence ruined by a lowly, filthy demon. how pathetic.”

he was right. even if it was just an image, you could feel the scornful, disappointed gaze from those eyes yourself. how humiliating it was, letting yourself getting taken advantage of by this demon, and in front of the altar with jesus on it too. it was so rude. it was so wrong …

and it was so hot.

why did you find this hot?

swiss seemed to take notice of your conflicting emotions, and started to grind into you harder, making you moan loudly.

“you know what… let them watch, let the gods hear how good i make you feel.” the infernal spat out lustfully and with a poisonous tone, intending to make you his tonight.

you already lost your innocence the moment you came into contact with this ghoul, and you were about to lose a lot more of it if you continued. but you couldn’t find yourself stopping. his presence was addicting, like candy, and you found yourself drawn in.

you nodded weakly, resting your head against the altar, looking back and waiting for swiss to continue.

swiss smirked, knowing he won this time.

“now that’s what i like to see.”

and he started to unbuckle his pants.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

[catholic-character-tournament]

Semi-Finals - Catholic Character Tournament

Propaganda below ⬇️

Sister Michael

She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.

joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?

she does love a good statue it has to be said

She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3

sister michael so reminds me of the nuns who taught me. they're tough and sometimes a little harsher than a woman who dedicated her life to god should be but they're also wonderful people. i had a nun teacher who was 60 years old and would do handstands. another nun (also in her 60s) told me god was nonbinary. another was really mean and made me cry. (so did the handstand nun.) while the catholic girls school is The Catholic Experience, the school wouldn't have been the same for me or the derry girls without at least one nun who seemed to have sprung up out of the ground fully formed, ageless.

Shadow

In sonic destruction (the AI generated fan thing snapcube made a while ago) shadow was catholic or something which I think is reallyyyyyyy funny

Ok listen. I know this is a stretch but hear me out. He says “oh my God” in the Twitter takeovers so we know this is a possibility. I see him as a Christ-like figure because I saw his whole confrontation with Mephiles and was like “this is a thing that happened in the Bible??” and the pose Mephiles shows him in is literally like a crucifixion and Mephiles is meant to be a demon / false prophet reference. And also he’s called a demon in Shadow The Hedgehog 2005 then the guy who calls him that is like “I was wrong I’m sorry” and that also reminds me of a thing with Jesus in The Bible. But the biggest reason is his whole thing with Maria cause I think he’d come to earth and hear Ave Maria once and convert to Catholicism idk he’s like we’re comforted by a female familial figure named Mary sometimes called Maria?? And her color is blue????? Heck yeah I’m in because I Will Cry. Also feel free to share this as propaganda obv even if he doesn’t get in the bracket just. It’s funny.

I feel like he’d battle a lot with being seen or portrayed as a demon and how the aliens he’s related to very much look and act like demons idk lmao- and also I feel like confession would just be good for him I think he needs it for his mental health

There is a debate on the lovely website tunblr that Shadow T. Hedgehog is an allegory for Jesus Christ.

He is Jesus, idk what to tell you. He lived, he was sealed away, he was awakened again and deemed the ultimate lifeforms, he’s angry but not evil, does what he believes is best for people and the world at any given time. Total loser.

Vote for Shadow the Hedgehog

There seems to be some confusion in the notes. He is Catholic. It may not be explicit, but it can be inferred.

Shadow was created by Professor Gerald Robotnik, and for the early part of his life, lived with Gerald and his granddaughter, Maria Robotnik.

Robotnik is not a made-up name. Google Search results may only bring up pages related to the Robotniks of the Sonic the Hedgehog series, however, it is a rarely used Polish surname. Poland is a historically Catholic nation, and… come on. Maria is the most Catholic name ever. The Robotniks are Catholic. Shadow was created and raised by Catholics.

Now you may be wondering to yourself: Does Catholicism even exist in Sonic? The answer is yes, at least in the Archie comics, where Protestants are explicitly mentioned.

64.media.tumblr.com

Couple this with the fact that several characters, including Shadow, have canonically taken the Lord’s name in vain, it is reasonable to infer that Christianity, and therefore Catholicism, exists.

So… while Shadow’s own religious beliefs may not have been explicitly addressed… at minimum:

Catholic is a cultural designation that Shadow will always be allowed to claim based on the family that made him.

Whether he’d actually want to claim that designation is a different conversation, but the other propaganda does a fine job of explaining why it may be appropriate to headcanon him as a practicing Catholic.

Now that we’ve established that Shadow has as much of a right to be in this tournament as anyone else, there’s one very important reason you should vote for him:

It would be funny if he won.

Thank you.

64.media.tumblr.com

Essays are done!! Here’s some Shadow propaganda because the propaganda we currently have sucks and I need to fix that. While yes, Shadow being Catholic is a meme, there is more to outside of the simple “fandub said so” and its not quite stated its Catholicism but just how he behaves and his actions. There’s a lot of Sonic content so I will try to keep this brief. Gonna get headcanons out of the way.

Shadow is Chilean and so are Maria and Gerald Robotnik because I fucking say so and they’re Catholic. He definitely had un rosario next to his like. Bed or test tube whatever he slept in. So did Maria btw. Alright let’s move on because I am 100% correct.

Let’s start with some background for Shadow. Shadow was created as a cure for a girl called Maria and he grew to care for her as a sister and loved her deeply. He was artificially created but still holds a soul that is similar to Maria’s. Long story short, Maria is killed protecting Shadow who watches as she’s shot in front of him. He has his memories tampered by Maria’s grandfather, Gerald, who manipulates him into carrying out revenge on the Earth, even if Shadow ends up as collateral.

Shadow struggles with frequent identity crises, even before Maria’s death and always wondered what his purpose was, what he was made to do. Was he a weapon? Was he a cure? He’s the Ultimate Lifeform, but what does that truly mean? ? He’s Shadow, but what more is there to him? He doesn’t know what his purpose is other than what others have prescribed to him, and he guides himself through the will of others (something that he breaks through afterwards but not yet). Shadow at his core is self-sacrificing and constantly punishes himself. This is where you can see some of that good old guilt that everyone has been using as propaganda, but we also see someone who is giving and kind.

He is snarky in the game, especially when interacting with Sonic, but he’s having what is essentially an ongoing mental breakdown but keeps moving because it is his duty to his sister. He doesn’t believe himself important enough to continue on after her and sees it in himself to act out on “Maria’s wishes”. After the revelation that Maria’s final wish for Shadow was for him to make those on Earth happy and to protect them, he immediately sacrifices himself to do so.

Okay, that’s a lot and you’re probably asking “Okay, you mentioned he is a giving person and yeah he has guilt, but that’s not really Catholicism” and yes you would be right! So let’s go into the more important part of being Catholic. The charity, the community, the kindness, etc. Shadow is a very reserved person and has the habit of being a dumb teenager because well. Yeah. Anyways, he definitely has a soft spot for those he cares about and while his whole arc (in my opinion) is about finding the freedom of self-autonomy, it is also Shadow growing as a person and deciding not to save people because others have told him he needs to, but because he wants to. It is born from his soul and its his nature to care for people. It is who he is, and he knows it now. He’s not doing it because he’s a hero or because he is told to do so. Shadow is a very giving person and I think people tend to forget about that especially due to bad writing from the past decade or so. He is also stated to help out at food shelters and volunteers a lot. He is proud and a bit prickly, but he cares so deeply about those he loves. He is stronger with his loved ones and will always do his best to protect them. These are minor, yeah, but you don’t need sweeping and enormous acts to get attention for the good deeds you do. Most of what you apply of Catholicism is done at the personal level, between your friends, family, and community.He also goes to Mass whenever he can and if he can’t he goes to the capilla and also does the sign of the cross whenever he runs by a church. Cutting this off because this is already 740-ish words and I had to send these across multiple asks I am so sorry Catholic mod