#thought i may share this on tumblr who knows what may happen

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[soul-write]

If you ever have something to transcribe into a word document and you can't for whatever reason and you wanna pay someone to do it, I offer that service on Fiverr (link here). Price is obviously negotiable depending on the number of pages

[5ummit]

New Mature Content Warning Overlay (And How to Get Rid of It)

More fun community label "features"! Unlike the new mandatory label for #NSFW, this one is a bigger deal to me because it affects my entire blog and it can't be avoided by just using a different tag.

Apparently on custom blog layouts, if you happen to post or reblog even a SINGLE post that's been flagged with the mature content community label, a full-page warning overlay will appear blurring out your entire blog that must be manually clicked through every single time the page is refreshed. At first I thought this was just a bug due to my older layout but I've come to realize it's not. It's a feature (as confirmed by this recent changes post) that affects all custom themes. The formatting will vary based on your own theme but here's what it looks like on my blog:

I don't know about you but I find this is stupid and annoying. If it could be dismissed once and never seen again that might be one thing, but that's not the case. The vast majority of my blog is not "mature" enough to warrant such an aggressive and invasive warning. I also think pop-ups are obnoxious in general and I'll be damned if tumblr's going to force me to have one on MY blog.

After some desperate googling for a known workaround and being unable to find even a single mention of it, I decided to take on the challenge myself. I'm not a theme coder, so apologies if there's a better way to do this, but luckily it only took me like 10 minutes to figure out a simple fix, which I'm now sharing with anyone else who may want it:

.community-label-cover__wrapper {display: none}

Just copypaste that somewhere in your CSS and goodbye pop-up!

If you're not sure how to access your theme code, check out this help article. You can also add the code via the Advanced Options menu, which is actually even better (if you can get it to work, it depends on how your theme was coded), because it will then automatically be reapplied to a lot of themes without having to remember to manually add it every time if you change your theme in the future.

Obviously this will only remove it from your own blog for anyone who may visit it. If you never want to see this warning again on other people's blogs you can also add this custom filter to your ad block:

tumblr.com##.community-label-cover__wrapper

Unfortunately I do not have an easy tutorial on hand for this one as the method will depend on your specific ad block app or extension.

Some additional notes:

After adding the theme code and saving the changes, give it a minute to update as it sometimes takes a little while for the page to refresh.

The warning overlay only seems to appear if a "mature" post is on the FIRST page of your blog, which is still annoying and makes the whole thing even more pointless and stupid because what if someone visits any other page of your blog, and oh no, happens to see "mature" content they weren't warned about?!

The warning also appears on direct links to "mature" posts.

This hack has NOTHING to do with entire blogs that have been flagged as NSFW. It only works for non-flagged blogs with custom themes that happen to have individual "mature" posts.

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Marcus

Pairing: Marcus (Pike, Moreno, Acacius) x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I saw a post from @pimosworld innocently asking for a Marcus bachlorette style fic and, while this isn't exactly right, this is what my brain came up with. Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to me ramble and helping me, as well as @vanemando15 for being a cheerleader!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

“Thanks for coming to Level Up Comics!” I smile at the customer as I hand them their bag, a quiet grunt all I get in return before they head out the door, the little bell jingling with their exit. I stretch, walking around from behind the counter and heading back towards the display case where several boxes sit in front, unopened figurines and collectibles pouring from them. My family and friends thought I was crazy for opening a physical media store in this age of digital products. They said no one would come in let alone want to actually buy “this crap.”

But here I am, a few years after opening, and I’m doing pretty good for myself. There are still collectors out there who want their favorites in case something happens to their files. They want the figurines from the original manufacturers, rather than printing them themselves. I can’t blame them. There’s something different, something magical about reading the printed word, having a figure of your favorite character that was made decades ago by something other than a 3D printer in someone’s basement.

The bell jingles and I yell out a greeting, shoving a few more figures in the back of the case before standing and turning, a pair of dark brown eyes meeting mine. I can already feel the smile on my face. 

“Hi, Marcus!” Shit, was that too enthusiastic? If it is, he doesn’t let on, his own smile shyly spreading across his face. “How…how are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck with his large hand, his eyes darting away from mine. “I’m..I’m good. You?”

“Good. That’s good. I mean, I’m good. Good. It’s all…good.” What the fuck?

He chuckles lightly, looking anywhere but at me. “Good.”

We’re both silent for several moments. He’s so hot. Way out of my league hot. And the weird thing is, I don’t even think he realizes just how attractive he is. 

“Did my back issue of X-Men come in?”

“Oh!” I slap my forehead. “I almost forgot! Yes. Let me get that for you.” Trying desperately to hide the heat in my cheeks, I quickly walk around the counter, kneeling to sift through the special order pile. 

“You got more figures in?”

“Yeah,” I yell from my crouched position. “There’s a few bins in the back I haven’t emptied yet. Feel free to have a look!” 

“Thanks.” I hear him shuffle off towards the back of the shop just as I locate his order. The door bell dings again and I stand, smoothing down my jeans. A man stands at the counter, his bright blue eyes roaming up and down my body before her plasters on the most ingenuine smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Hi. How can I help you?” I ask him as I place Marcus’s order on the counter.

 “Hi beautiful. I’m looking for a comic.”

I internally sigh. I already know where this is going. It happens several times a week.

“Well you’ve come to the right shop. What are you looking for?”

He chuckles, intending to be endearing. It isn’t. “I’m looking for a very specific issue of Hawkeye. You know who that is?”

Seriously? “I am very familiar with Hawkeye. Are you?”

He scoffs. “Haha. You’re a funny, pretty thing. Anyway, I’m looking for a specific run of his. Do you know what that means?”

Anger surges through me and I grip the desk to ground myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Marcus at the back of the store, standing and turning towards us but not moving. He’s even hot in my peripheral. 

“Which run are you looking for? Or are you wanting a recommendation?”

He laughs, the vile sound of it echoing off the walls. “A recommendation? From you? What would you know? You’re just a pretty little girl.”

A clunk from the back of the store and I see Marcus trip over one of the boxes. He doesn’t go down, but turns to fix the boxes that he’s kicked over. The man in front of me is unphased, his eyes still on me, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Well?” He spits out. 

I look at him, giving him a smile. “Well, if you’re asking me personally, my favorite run is the Matt Fraction run. Not only because of his artistic style and great story, but the fact that they weaved in Clint’s deafness, drawing him wearing his hearing aids, and even doing an entire issue completely in American Sign Language. A great story and representation of a marginalized community from, in my opinion, one of the best and most relatable Avengers. Now, would you like the individual issues, an omnibus, or the digital version?”

The smug smile slowly fades from his face, his eyes hardening. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

“I do when customers act like a bitch.” 

He grabs the fliers on the counter and throws them at me, turning towards the door. “Fuck you and this place!” He tries to slam the door behind him but he fumbles with the handle, flipping me off one final time before disappearing around the corner. 

I sigh, bending down to pick up the fliers. A hand reaches out, large and inviting, carefully helping me pick up the scattered papers. I look up at him, at Marcus, sweet Marcus. Who had heard all of that. 

“I’m sorry Marcus. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.”

He hands me the small stack he’s collected, meeting my gaze. “You don’t have to apologize for standing up to a sexist asshole. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

I combine our stacks, both of us standing as I tap them on the counter to even them out. “Why should you apologize?”

“I should’ve come to help,” he rubs the back of his neck, his ear turning slightly pink. 

I shake my head. “No, Marcus don’t worry about it. I get assholes like that all the time. Really, it’s ok.”

He shakes his head. “It’s really not-”

To my own surprise, I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Really, I’m ok. Thank you, Marcus.”

He smiles at me, opening his mouth to say something, but his phone rings from inside his pocket. “Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls it out, tapping on the clear screen only he can see. “Shit. I have to take this. Work. You sure you’re ok?”

I smile, trying not to show my sadness at his leaving. “I am. Hope everything’s ok at work.”

“Thanks. I’ll uh…see you around.” His eyebrows pull together as his phone rings again, his eyes moving down to the screen before he turns around and heads out the door, pausing to give me a wave through the window before he disappears into the crowd. 

I’ll never meet a man owning this shop. They’re either assholes, taken, or hopelessly out of my league. My own phone beeps and I pull it out, scanning the clear screen with my reservation confirmation. I tap the confirm button, nerves flooding my system. 

I can’t believe I signed up for a virtual version of the bachelorette.

—----

I closed the shop early and rushed home to get ready for that night. I arrive promptly at 7pm as they requested, the giant VIRTUAL LIFE logo on the side of the building bathing the sidewalk in bright blue light. I take a deep breath and walk inside, the door disappearing momentarily to let me in before reappearing behind me. The front desk assistant guides me to a row of elevators and instructs me to head to floor 28. I’m the only one in the elevator, the lights illuminating each floor as we pass it. The elevator stops and the doors open to a small waiting room, black leather couches and chairs surround a coffee table with several tablets, each loaded with some form of entertainment. While it looks like there are windows, if you look closely, you can tell they’re simulated, trying to grant us as much privacy as possible. Although, I think it may be more about guarding their own technology secrets. 

“Ivy?” a woman calls my name from the only doorway in the room aside from the elevator. I nod, standing and smoothing down my dress. 

“That’s me.”

“Right this way.” She leads me into another small office, a simple desk with a single chair for me to sit in. She sits opposite me at the desk, tapping in mid air at what I’m assuming is the computer screen in front of her. 

“Ivy it says here you signed up for the bachelorette program to meet a compatible mate. Is that correct?”

Swallowing down my embarrassment, I nod. “Y-yeah.”

She taps a few more things. “Great. Do you know how this works?”

“You guys take a picture of my brain and show me a story?”

She chuckles, the first time her professional demeanor has broken. “Almost but not quite. After we’re done here, you will be taken to the simulation room. You’ve already done your physical-”

“Yeah. They had me put on this suit and they captured the way I moved. Motion capture, I think?”

She nods. “Yes that’s it exactly. This way, your avatar inside your world will move like you. It helps with immersion.” I nod. “They also completed your brain scan to find the most viable dates and look of mate that you are searching for. You indicated you’re looking for a male mate, is that correct?”

I nod. “Yeah. Yes.”

She nods. “Alright. If you’ll go through the door, someone in scanning will take you. Good luck!” She gestures to a door on the opposite wall from where we entered. I go through the door and another woman greats me, leading me to chair where she has me sit and get comfortable. It reminds me of what the dentist chairs used to look like except way more comfortable. She turns to me, holding a helmet with different little lights on it. 

“Any questions?”

“Yeah. So what will he..I mean, how will I know who he is?”

“You will just know. Sort of like in a regular video game, where you can tell who is important to talk to.”

“Ok..but…will he look like him or?”

That’s reassuring. But then she interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t forget, he will be there too also looking for you.”

She shakes her head. “Your algorithm took in your scan and will give him the appearance of someone you find appealing or comforting. We’ve found it’s easier to accept someone if they have an outward appearance you’re already familiar with.”

“So you base connections on personality as opposed to looks?”

She nods. “Those relationships have the highest success rate, so yes.”

“And after, will you show me who he is?”

She nods. “In the simulation, you’ll go on 3 dates. They may be something as simple as communicating in an office to being a superhero or even traveling back in time. The algorithm takes both of your likes, dislikes, and desires and places you in situations. The more you play along and immerse yourself, or yourselves, into the simulation, the better the outcome, meaning a closer connection. And don’t worry - you cannot be physically harmed. And if it’s too much or you want to stop, you only need to say “End simulation”. Please be aware that time may pass differently in the simulation, but you will only be in for an hour. After, you will both meet here, in reality, and can determine whether you’d like to continue with a relationship or not. Any more questions?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not at the moment, anyway.”

She places the helmet on my head, the nodes all changing different colors as it comes in contact with me. She squeezes my shoulder and I look up at her. “Just relax and try to go with the theme. It’s more fun that way, ok?”

I nod, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

“Good luck!” She taps a button on her clear screen and my vision fades to black so just a couple of seconds. But then I’m blinking awake, the tips of my fingers tingling and my toes feeling like they just woke up. My vision starts to clear and the room comes into focus. I’m sitting at a bar, a fancier bar, which explains the nice dress. As my hearing levels out, I realize that the blonde man to my right is talking to me, his body shifted in my direction. His grey eyes are slightly unsettling. This can’t be my mate, can it? 

“...and so I had them fired! Can you imagine? I asked for my steak to be medium and they brought it out medium well. That will teach that guy to listen to the customer at his next job.” Grey Eyes chuckles and takes a sip of the drink in front of him. He nods towards the glass in front of me. “Do you want another?”

“What? Oh, uh sure.” 

He flags the bartender down and orders a rum and coke before making a show of leaning on his beefy arm against the bar. “I’m glad you finally saw reason and agreed to come out with me tonight.”

I give him a small smile. “Yeah. Same here.” This doesn’t feel right. Maybe they got it wrong? Someone bumps into me from behind and grey eyes catches me, glaring at the person who bumped me, who had moved on. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. It’ll take more than a drunk asshole to bring me down.” Grey Eyes laughs, picking up his glass and holding it up towards me. “I’ll drink to that.” I glance down to grab my drink, only to find it wasn’t there. I look back at Grey Eyes and see him frozen in place, the smirk on his face completely gone, his glass shaking as he continues to hold it in mid air. My glass appears next to his, lightly clicking against his glass. 

“Now that’s not very nice.” That voice. I would know his voice anywhere. My entire body relaxes as I turn to look into the dark brown eyes that I love so much.

“Marcus!” I exclaim, ignoring the vein in grey eye’s neck that’s threatening to pop. Marcus on the other hand, looks good. I mean, he always looks good to me but he’s dressed in nice black pants and a light blue button up shirt with matching black jacket. I’m not sure how a blue shirt makes his brown eyes pop, but it does. Marcus pushes his black frames up his nose.

“Hey, Ivy. Sorry to interrupt your date, but this not so kind gentlemen put a little something in your drink.”

“He what?” I blink rapidly a few times, trying to pry my eyes away from him. Grey Eyes vein relaxes somewhat and he sputters out.

“Fuck you man! We’re on a date! What….what are you doing to me?”

Marcus shrugs. “Well, you wanted to make it so she can’t move. Only fair if I return the favor.” 

Grey Eyes goes to say something else, but then seems to recognize the man standing next to me, his eyes going wide.

“Aren’t you the guy that can move metal?”

My eyes snap to Marcus, who is smiling. “I see I have a fan.”

Grey Eyes tries to backtrack. “Listen, man. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get her to loosen up a bit. Have some fun.”

Marcus looks at me, his brown eyes wide and smiling. “Ivy, do you wish to continue your date with this man?”

“Nope.” I pop the “p” sound at the end of the word. “Little hard to have fun when my date is trying to render me unconscious.”

Marcus waves the bartender over. “Call the police. This man is in possession of Freeze Me.”

 A handful of what felt like seconds later, several officers show up and arrest Grey Eyes, who barely puts up a struggle. I turn towards Marcus, my smile stretching my face as I grab his arm. “My hero.”

His eyes dart around the room, his arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It was nothing.”

Gosh he’s so cute when he does that neck rub thing. Wait. Gotta play along. 

“Is Marcus the Metal Bender actually acting shy around me?”

He chuckles nervously and I think how perfect they coded him. Like he was picked out of my brain. Which I guess he was. 

“Just trying to be respectful.”

I wish he wouldn’t. Wait, are we even allowed to have sex in here? Wow, getting ahead of yourself there, Ivy.

“Youwannagetoutofhere?” He speaks so fast it all comes out in a jumble and I cock my head to the side. 

“What?”

He swallows hard and I can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Hell yeah I do.” 

—-

It’s a few weeks later, or at least it feels like some time has passed. That lady did say time passes differently here. Now I’m in an office building, a stack of files in my arms, walking down the hall. A quick glance around tells me I’m in the Heroics head quarters. Marcus appears from around the corner and looks up at me, smiling and walking towards me. But then a man in a much too tight blue suit with a glowing M on it joins him, Marcus’s shoulders sagging slightly as he gives me a sad little wave.

“When are you two going to go on a date already?” A woman with bright pink hair appears next to me. 

“I uh, me?”

She slaps my shoulder. “Yes, you Ivy.” She leans in closer to my ear. “Aren’t you the one who confessed to having a crush on our heroic leader?”

I will the heat rising in my face to not show. “Oh, I uh..I-”

“You know he likes you too.” Her jaw drops when she sees the confused look on my face. “Oh don’t tell me you can’t tell! That man can hardly look at you and he’s taken down alien forces by just staring at them.”

She feels like a close friend so I go with it. “Yeah, ok I like him. Keep your voice down, will you?” She continues walking with me to the end of the hall where I deposit the stack of files into several slots, each one making a small whoosh sound as they’re whisked away to their destinations.

When I’m done, Pink Hair gently grabs my face and turns me to her. “I love you, Ivy. You know you’re like the sister I never had. So please listen to me when I say ask that man out before something happens and you regret not ever trying.”

Well fuck. That is…really spot on to reality isn’t it? 

I never get a chance to answer her as the entire building suddenly shakes, alarms and lights screeching and illuminating the halls. One of the tall filing cabinets starts to topple in my direction and I can only look on in horror, frozen in place by the rumbling building. I throw my hands up, as if that’s going to stop it, but nothing happens. The cabinet is laid gently on its side, floating to the ground. 

“Come on!” I look up into those dark eyes, Marcus extending his hand to me and helping me to my feet. “We have to get out of here!” He tightens his grip and somehow leads us out of the chaotic building out into the streets. Which is also nuts. People are running everywhere and…wait. Is that an alien spaceship coming towards us??

Marcus pulls me behind a wall, glancing around it and waving hand signals to a small group of heroes across the street behind another wall, Pink Hair amongst them. He turns back to me, his face full of worry as he starts to take his shirt off, exposing…not skin but a uniform? No. His hero costume, which is a black shirt,and arm bands. He sees me staring down and he shrugs. “I normally have a tach vest but we’re out of time.” 

“Should you not go out there without one?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I have to support my team. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I mean, people safe.”

“You could just stay here with me? The others can handle-” my words are cut off by a giant laser beam cutting through the street, coming directly from the ship. 

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Get yourself to safety. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I need you to be safe.” Another laser beam, the sound of some smaller buildings crumbling to the ground. “Go! Get to safety!” He releases my hand. 

I get a glimpse of the deep craters that lasers had left in their wake through the cement of the street, the piles of rubble and dust, and this spurs me on.

“Marcus?” He leans against the wall, readying himself, but he looks at me. 

“Yeah?”

Mustering up my courage, I lean towards his hunched body, softly planting a kiss on his lips. When I pull back, I see his chest heaving, his eyes moving between mine.

“Please make it back, Marcus.”

Before he can answer, the ship comes into view and his team moves out, following behind Miracle Guy, who had flown right up the ship and started punching it. Marcus’s head whips around, assessing the situation and I squeeze his arm once more before quickly moving out of the immediate area. I know I should move more, but I can’t get hurt so… 

The fight that ensues between the ship, the aliens inside, and the Heroics team is nothing short of brilliant. They may argue in the halls, but in the field, they all take direction from Marcus, who is a brilliant leader, playing all of their strengths. Marcus bends metal like it’s made of playdough, a beautiful dance of destruction and strength. Then the ship comes crashing down, everyone moving out of the way except-

“Marcus!” I emerge from my hiding place at a full run as the smoke around the alien ship that’s currently scraping along the road as it crashes and envelops Marcus. The ship stops, groaning as it falls back and lays still, no other life forms moving or detected on board. For a few moments, no one moves. Then Marcus emerges from the smoke, his face soot stained and a small gash in his shirt and along his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Marcus!” I run to him, his eyes finding mine, his entire body relaxing as he realizes I’m safe, just before I launch myself into his arms, our lips crashing together as my right hand fists in his shirt, my left tugging on his hair. Miracle Guy wolf whistles but I couldn’t care less. I feel his tongue gently lick out and I part my lips, letting him take whatever he wants. But before it can go any further, my vision starts to blacken, the last thing I see is Marcus’s eyes going out of focus as he succumbs to his own transition to the next simulation.

—----

I find myself blinking awake for the second time in what feels like weeks, but I know in reality it’s only been maybe 20 minutes that I was in there. The tips of my fingers and toes are tingling, my vision and hearing clearing and I find myself in…a breakroom. Am I back at the Heroics? The slight weight in my hand takes my focus and I realize I’m holding a cup of tea. I must be on my break. I walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking outside. I’m not back at Heroics - the cityscape is all wrong. I hear the door open behind me and I turn, the smile on my face widening as Marcus enters the room. His hair is shorter than the last simulation. And his face is clean shaven, which is a look I’ve never seen on him before. Not that it matters - he’s beautiful no matter what. I wonder what he’ll look like when he’s a little older. Probably hot as-

“Hey, Ivy.” Marcus smiles down at me, grabbing his own mug and pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. I notice the FBI logo on the mug and figure that must be where we are.

“Hey,  Marcus.” I take a sip of my tea as we both watch the other. But then the door opens again, another agent walking into the room. He claps his hands together, looking at us.

“Hey! Congrats on finally cracking that art case, you two! 8 months is a long time to do an operation like that. Great work!” He shakes both of our hands as we thank him. Marcus catches my eye and, with a small movement, jerks his head towards the door. I nod, thanking the other agent again and follow Marcus out of the tiny breakroom and down the hall, stopping in front of an office door labeled MARCUS PIKE. I wonder if that's his name back In reality. He extends his arm towards his office and I head inside, smiling at him as I do, noting how his eyes dart around, that hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he closes the door behind him.

“I uh…great work, Ivy.” 

“You too.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and finally looks me in my eyes and he nods once. 

“Listen. Do you..uh..I mean, would you like to…this is coming out all weird.”

I squeeze his arm and he looks down at my hand, taking a deep breath. 

“Would you like to get something to eat?”

My stomach erupts in butterflies. “Like on a date?”

The redness in his eyes spreads down onto his cheeks as he stammers, gesturing around vaguely. “No! No, not uh. Not a date.”

I can feel my face falling. “Oh.”

“Uh, unless you…uh…unless you want to? Make it a…a date?” His eyes are wide and bright, like a damn puppy. 

I smile, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Yeah, I would love to go on a date with you, Marcus.” 

His smile is bright, lighting up the room. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He let's out a sigh of relief. “Great! I found this great pancake place.”

Pancakes? I love this man already. “It's nearly dinner time!” I can't help the small giggle that I let out. 

“Yeah, well you said your favorite food is pancakes. And they're open 24 hours.”

He remembered my favorite food? I'm so screwed. Damn this program is good. “You're right! I'd love to get pancakes with you. On a date. For a date. When will this date be, by the way?”

“Oh. I uh, would it be too weird if we went tonight? Is that too soo-”

“No! I mean, yes! No it's not too soon. I'd love to go!” If my heart could stop beating through my chest, that would be great. It's not that I'm some young girl getting asked on her first date. I just really like Marcus. Or whomever this is. My heart sinks at the thought of it not being the Marcus I know in reality. 

“Great! I'll pick you up at 7? Unless you'd rather meet me there? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Marcus, we just spent 8 months together on assignment. I think I'm comfortable around you.”

He chuckles. “Fair point.” His office phone rings and he apologizes to me, picking it up. I wave ro him and he mouths “See you at 7!”

—----

He picks me up with a flourish of flowers, all long legs and button up shirt that I'm really dying to unbutton. If that's even allowed here. 

But what's more than that is the conversation. I thought I had learned everything about him over the last 8 months. I was very wrong. 

“You were a bass player in a band?” I ask, choking on my drink.

He laughs, holding his hands up in front of him. “What can I say? I wanted to meet more people.”

“I bet you had all the girls hanging on you.”

Marcus shrugs. “Not really. They all want to date the drummer or the singer.”

“Really? Not the sexy bass player?”

Marcus takes too large of a sip of his drink and coughs, pounding his chest. “No, not the…you think I'm sexy?”

I set my fork down and meet his eyes. “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here.”

We spend several moments, just looking at each other and then I remember that he's not a simulation but a real person on the other end of those eyes. My heart squeezes thinking about how it won't actually be Marcus. Despite that thought, we really get along well and the conversation flows freely between us. Sooner than I’d like, we’re leaving the small diner, heading back to my place. Marcus parks in my driveway and turns to me, his eyes bright and wide like a damn puppy. We had been talking about books, one of my favorite topics.

“..and I know everyone complains that Tolkien takes 20 pages to describe a flower, but I really love that attention to detail. It makes it more immersive for me. One of these days I’ll get you to read Lord of the Rings!” I tap my fingers on his bicep to emphasize my point.

Marcus rubs his neck. “I uh…I already have.”

My jaw drops. “What? When??”

“When you told me it was your favorite book. Or books, I should say.”

I think back. “Marcus, that was…months ago!”

His eyes meet mine, the light from the street lamp outside adding a sparkle to them. “You said they were your favorite so…I read them.”

My stomach does flips, my heart beating. “You read them all for me?”

He nods. “Even the Silmarillion.”

I can’t help it. This is so fucking hot. I reach out and grip his shirt, pulling him to me, his soft lips pressing against mine, the heat between us quickly rising. His large hand cradles the back of my head, holding me to him as his other hand settles on my hip, squeezing it lightly. We make out for several minutes, Marcus kissing and nipping a path down my neck. 

“Do you want to come in?” I ask breathlessly. 

He pulls back and looks at me. “I do but-” he whispers. “Are we allowed?”

“I…I’m not sure. We could try to-” 

But then my vision starts to blacken around the edges, and before I pass out, I hear Marcus say “See you in the next one!” before we both black out.

—----

Now familiar with the way I wake in these simulations, I wiggle my fingers and toes, giving myself a moment to figure out where I am. The room looks…ok, this isn’t from my time. Roman decor and pillars line the grand bedroom, some food laying on a small table for, I’m assuming, me. A quick glance down shows me in a beautiful white garb and I marvel for a moment at how clean it is. 

BOOM!

The ground shakes and I duck down, completely caught off guard. It’s only after the boom dies down that I hear it - the distant sound of clanking swords and men yelling. I walk to the small window set into the wall and look out, my brain taking a moment to process the scene in front of me. 

I’m several floors up in a sort of round building, a castle I realize as I see the lower tiers, more square in their shape. I’m sure the grounds would have been beautiful, if it weren’t for the massive amounts of soldiers fighting in the streets. I can make out their bodies, the blood, sweat, and dirt spreading almost like a disease. Spear and swords burst from chests or stomachs, limbs separating from their bodies to be lost to the throngs of soldiers. The seem to be moving closer to the castle, which I’m not sure if I want to happen or not. Turning on my sandaled heel, I walk to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to listen. Hearing nothing, I try to open it. Nothing. The door doesn’t open or move, the handle locked into place.

Well, fuck. 

Before I can try and figure out how far down the next ledge is out the window, or if I can even fit out the window, I hear a commotion outside my door. It’s not loud, but I hear a man gurgling and sputtering, a small bit of crimson blood pooling under the door. I grab an iron rod by the fire and hold it up, preparing to defend myself. I know they said I can’t be hurt but damn this feels real. The door opens and a man walks through, wide, muscular shoulders under his Roman armor, Medusa proudly engrained on the front. I lunge, the iron rod above my head but the man turns and grabs the rod and I  would’ve fallen to the floor if he hadn’t caught me.

“Ivy! Here you are!” 

It’s him. Marcus. Only he’s older, probably closer to 50. Grey streaks in his curls and patchy facial hair only accentuate his beauty, a new scar forming across his nose, bleeding lightly down his face. He’s covered in dirt and blood and ash, but I throw my arms around him anyway.

“Marcus! Thank God, what’s going on?”

He cups my face, pushing my hair out of my face. “You are so beautiful, my love. I would bring every army from the entire world to rescue you from this horrid Emperor.” And then his lips are on mine, urgency behind them, but a desire to show me how l much I am loved. This man apparently started the battle outside, for me, and still wants to make sure that I know how important I am to him? 

“We have to flee. Come!” But before we can leave, the door flies open and 5 guards file in, grabbing Marcus and holding his arms out to his sides. I pick the iron rod up from the floor and run towards them, unsure of what I would do but I know I’ll beat the shit out of them until they let him go. But another hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, twisting it hard so I drop the rod. I look up into the eyes of a man that I’m assuming is the Emperor, his golden robes flowing around him. He looks vaguely familiar, like that one asshole from the comic shop.

“Now, now my dear. What were you planning on doing with that?”

I open my mouth to reply, but then he smacks me across the face and I slam down onto the floor. Ok, that hurt. Didn’t she say I wouldn’t get hurt? Maybe she meant I wouldn’t die. Marcus swears, cursing the Emperor for hitting me. 

“Are you alright, my love?” Marcus grunts as the men punch him in the stomach. 

“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You’re kind are dying out. I told you to just accept your fate and take your banishment, but instead, you stayed behind and fell in love with a woman. How…stupid.” Marcus tries to speak but he’s punched again, his body hunching over. I try to stand, but then I’m drug up by my hair, the Emperor’s fingers digging at my scalp as he pulls me to his side. 

“This one?” His eyes rake over my body. “She is attractive, I’ll give you that. Even if she is attracted to a brute like you.” I jerk my body, trying to get out of his grip but it’s too tight, my hands gripping his arms to try and get some relief from the stinging at the back of my scalp.

“Let her go. You can kill me, I don’t care, but let her go.”

The Emperor looks from me to Marcus, a sick smile spreading on his face. “I didn’t go through the trouble of kidnapping her just to have you give up. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do instead. LOOK AT ME!” The Emperor bellows from beside me, Marcus’s eyes moving from mine to his. 

He steps closer to Marcus, dragging me a little beside him. “Such a wild man. How about this: you watch as I take her. Then, I’ll drive my sword through her belly so she can slowly bleed out on the floor. Only after the light has left her eyes will I either kill you or lock you up to suffer the rest of your days. How does that sound?”

The darkness that settles over Marcus is unforgiving, his eyes hardening in resolution. He growls and screams, throwing the soldiers off him as he grabs his sword from the ground, swinging it and taking out all of the soldiers in only a handful of moves. He spins, aiming his sword at the Emperor, who has now moved me in front of him as a human shield, a knife to my throat. 

“I’ll kill her, Marcus! You are too weak to save her!”

Marcus’s gaze moves briefly to mine and I release my weak grip on the Emperor’s arms, letting them fall to my side. Marcus shifts his body ever so slightly before he throws something from behind his back. The object whizzes past my cheek, scratching it slightly as the blade buries itself in the Emperor’s neck. He drops his knife and clutches at his throat, his eyes wide with fear. He crumbles to the floor and sputters for several moments before his body stops moving. I run to Marcus, throwing my arms around him again. He grunts and I remember the soldiers hitting him.

“Are you hurt?”

He clutches his side. “I’ve had worse.”

“You are so fucking hot right now,” I speak quietly to him and he smiles. “I’m covered in dirt and blood and sweat.”

“Stop trying to turn me on more I already said you’re hot.”

He laughs but then inhales sharply at the pain. “I’ll take it, I guess.”

“No, that’s my job.” I bring my lips to his, pushing him back towards the chaise lounge chair on the other side of the room. He sits, pulling me onto his lap as I straddle him, my dress getting dirty as I shift my hips. He groans, his large hands sliding up my bare thighs under my dress and fuck! My vision starts to blacken and I hear Marcus whine out some expletives as we both are brought out of the simulation. 

—---------------------------

Hopefully for the last time, I blink awake, wiggling my fingers and toes as I look around the room. The helmet is gently lifted from my head and the woman that had put it on me moves into my eyesight.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Wait just a moment for your body to fully catch up. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah why did you stop us having sex?”

She studies me for a moment. “It is not allowed in the programming.”

“I cross my arms. “Well your programming is stupid.”

She chuckles so quietly I thought I’d imagined it. “The algorithm wants you and your mate to match based on personality and emotions, not just physical.”

“I can guarantee you it wasn’t just physical.” 

She helps me stand and I shake my limbs out, full feeling returning to them. I smooth out my dress as she readjusts my hair. “Are you ready to meet him?”

Him. My reality man. “Y..yeah.” 

“Right through that door. He’s already waiting for you.” I move towards the door but she stops me. “I just have to say, I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never seen a situation like yours and his.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

So smiles softly. “So…rooted in reality.”

Yeah that’s not confusing. But she doesn’t explain further, turning back to the chair and helmet, starting to clean them. I take a deep breath to steady myself and open the door, walking through and closing it behind me. The man on the other side of the room, my mate, turns towards me and we both gasp.

“Marcus?”

“Ivy?”

We meet in the middle of the room and I cup his face, Marcus tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is it really you?”

He nods. “Yeah. You? Real?”

“Real.”

He pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply, but then pulling back a moment later. 

“I’ve been dying to ask you out since forever. I never thought I’d be paired with you, here of all places.”

I cock my head to the side. “Why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re entirely out of my league.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s the other way around.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I put my finger on his lips. “I think we went through several first dates in there. Plus, we’re already friends. Can we…that is, can you take me back to your place first? Then we can eat?”

Marcus’s eyes darken, his hands finding a place on my hips as he pulls me against his body, letting me feel how into that idea he is. 

We’re married a year later.

—----

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[evermore-fashion]

💜 Thank you 💜

I just want to thank everyone for their kind messages since I decided to announce my comeback to Tumblr. I won't lie writing everything out was quite daunting as I wasn't sure I was even going to post it publicly. My initial plan was to leave it in my drafts and if I still felt the same a week later, I'd then post it publicly to you all. However after reading it back I decided to bite the bullet and see what would happen. To say I was blown away by everyone welcoming me back was an understatement. I also want to thank everyone who has shared their stories with me about being in a similar situation. It's been comforting to know I haven't been alone in my own thoughts and feelings regarding my ex friend. Although I'm happy to say I'm in a much better place emotionally and mentally which has brought a light to my darkness. So much so I'm actually looking forward to my birthday in 15 days time (February 18th) which I haven't been able to for a number of years. All in all it's nice to be back posting fashion which hasn't disappointed me once during the Spring 2024 Haute Couture Fashion Week. It's given me a few ideas for this blog going forward as well as getting Evermore-Grimoire up and running in the next few weeks. I hope you all continue to enjoy my blogs and any personal rants I may or may not want to share with you all in the future. I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

[nyxcreate]

OCD caused by Non Dualism (“seeking”) tips+

So I’ll be honest, I don’t really make posts about Non dualism because I don’t feel like I’ve understood it the way other people did. They’ve seemed to find this permanent bliss, that I stayed seeking for, FOR MONTHS, (more than 7 months) and really just losing my mind. That non dual state of mind felt so good and I wanted it so bad! I’ve seen many tumblr asks with seekers and I’m sure there are many people who’ve just really understood it and resonated with it. I wanted to share my two cents on it, because I’m sure there other folks who could really use the advice instead of hearing “just NOTICE!!!”.

So please note, once again I won’t say anything bad about traditional non duality/Advaita Vedanta. I’m merely speaking from my own experience, my own struggles and how I’ve really sort of overcome it. And if you’ve found the NOTHINGNESS and CONSCIOUSNESS, all props to you! Keep scrolling this isn’t for you!

—————————————————————

One thing I’ve come to realize later on is how much the mind watching was actually damaging, and not natural at all! It felt like i was looking into something- all the time, feeling the contractions in my body, trying to get rid of it. Naming everything. Trying not to name everything, or label. Trying to notice more. Trying to notice there wasn’t any labels! Trying to notice who was the one doing the noticing. Trying to notice that there was no one noticing. Hell even trying not to TRY. Reading posts, watching videos, hoping something would click. I know how this sounds, but sometimes I’d get excited when I was reaching my breaking point of noticing; because that’s when the bliss would return. So much that you can’t take it anymore; and all that’s left is that pretty empty state of mind that just feels soooo good!

Your world is at your feet, everyone is treating you with kindness. You’re treating everyone with so much love. Life can’t get any better. Until you’re hit with the sudden realization “how do i maintain this, what if I start seeking again?” and there you are; your “me” has returned. But every time it gets easier, doesn’t it? And every time; even if it gets easier, you’re wishing you never found Non Duality in the first place. Now how do I get rid of the “me” again . . .

I’m very done with non dualism. Funny thing is, I don’t even disagree with the non dual “experience”; because it’s just so true. The core of emptiness is there! But honestly, I’m so done with the teachings.

I never thought I would be able to say that I was done with this philosophy. I really thought it would be there in the back of my mind FOREVER. Doing backflips and whatnot to feel the emptiness, the bliss. But enough about that …

I’ve stopped with traditional non duality where it says “keep noticing!” “who’s the one noticing?” “the noticer and the noticed it one!” and realized; as Tony Parsons and Jim Newman and even Non duality fun on youtube had taught me, there is no one doing the noticing. The “radical” non dualism that traditional non dualists seem to hate has been a lifesaver. The pretty state of mind that you are searching for, the search may be there but there is no one doing the searching. If there is no one doing the searching, then what’s happening? It is OBVIOUSLY happening. I am DEFINITELY searching.

No, there is no one doing the searching. It just is. No reason for it at all.

Anyways, while I encourage everyone to look into radical non dualism; or Tony Parson and Jim Newman’s ways of teachings, I’ve also moved on from their lessons. I’ve learned to tackle the OCD by not listening to the compulsions, by no longer looking into the mind. And yes take it step by step, because I know how difficult it seems to just not listen to the compulsions. that would be my advice for sure. Start looking into radical non dualism and recognize that the seeker is just not there. There is no “higher” state of consciousness. The divide that you see between the “me” and the “consciousness; bliss” state; there is no divide at all. It’s all just happening. Once that’s been established; go ahead and live your life. If needed, later look into how you can treat your OCD.

…and again, non dualism has provided amazing insights that I’m forever grateful for. :) The challenges are nothing in comparison to the knowledge gained.

[eunxhan]

❝ A kiss is the beginning of cannibalism. ❞

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Ꮺ Anon Requested ⨾ hii can u do a ticci toby x cannibalistic gn reader?

Ꮺ Eun Replies ⨾ Greetings! I apologize for the late response as i got more focused on working on my ocs — This is quite short compared to my other works but I do hope you'll like this one! I've searched on how cannibalism works just to make sure.

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Ꮺ Disclaimer — GORE!SUGGESTIVE! I do not condone this kind of behavior in real life situations.

Reader ⨾ CANNIBALISTIC!GN!READER. YOU/YOURS

Words used ⨾ 624 words 3,502 characters

Character ⨾ TOBIAS ERIN ROGERS (Ticci Toby)

Art credit ⨾ @/kousomii on tumblr

Links ⨾ My Navigation

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Toby felt a strange mix of fascination and horror when he first encountered you. You were out, eating the corpse he just sliced up. He couldn't help but wonder how you got into your current situation, what led you to become a cannibal, and how you were able to maintain the facade of being a normal, functioning member of society.

Toby sometimes feels tempted to try what you are eating, but he always stops himself from actually doing so. If you manage to have some influence on him or try to convince him, he'll do so.

So whenever he goes out to do his missions, if you were allowed to he would let you follow him to clean up his mess. If you weren't, he would come back with a bag full of the parts you prefer.

If you happen to have a biting habit, whether biting yourself or someone else. He's be fascinated by it as he also have a biting habit, he doesn't mind you biting him as he doesn't feel that much pain as long as you let him bite also. He just watch you bite him and look at the bite marks, just don't bite him when he's in a sour mood.

If you cook them, Toby is intrigued and impressed by your skills as a cook, especially if you have a talent for preparing human flesh in a way that's palatable and delicious. He enjoys the idea of sharing a meal with you that is both unique and delicious.

He may or may not say some jokes about you being a cannibal. Toby's sexual jokes about you are him comparing your appetite for human flesh to his imagined prowess in bed. He'll make crude remarks, such as "You're tearing through those organs like you'd rip through a woman's panties."

Toby's indifference towards your post-feast appearance is a direct reflection of his own descent into depravity. Once disgusted by the mere thought of cannibalism, leaving him numb to the grotesque reality surrounding him but who knows? He's also a killer.

He knows that he himself isn't much better, for he too has stained his hands with blood and consumed human flesh. His ambivalence towards your plight is a twisted acceptance of their shared fate, a grim acknowledgment that they have both become monsters in their own right.

For Toby, he just eats the people he chops for survival and if you happen to have a different reasoning Toby listens to your dissection of cannibalism with a mix of repulsion, curiosity, and a twisted sense of familiarity. The gruesome details of how your body processes the consumed flesh, the nutritional benefits, and the sensory experiences, all serve as a morbid testament to the transformation you have undergone.

As you delves into the biological aspects of cannibalism, Toby's mind can't help but conjure vivid images of digestion, the human body breaking down its victims in the most base and primal of ways.

With the knowledge of cannibalism fresh in his mind, Toby's approach to his missions takes on a new, more methodical quality. Instead of the wild, frenzied attacks that once characterized his hunts, Toby now dispatches his victims with a chilling efficiency.

With each slash of his blade, Toby is careful to target specific organs, his actions driven by the newfound knowledge of their nutritional value. He takes the time to slice off limbs, and as he does, he can't help but recall yout descriptions of the sensory experiences. A strange, twisted thrill courses through him as he works.

Once he's collected his bounty, Toby methodically collects the parts into one bag, taking care not to mix the organs with the flesh. You'll be eating with no problem in your mind.

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Ꮺ ⨾ I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING COPIED OR TRANSLATED.

[puttersmile]

Why I like Dogday x Bobby Bearhug

Working off of my last Crittertember post, posting the shipping manifesto for the four of you who are just dying to know, lol.

Part 1 of Post: Here. Just a lot of pictures.

I guess I should start with how I started liking the ship in the first place. As best as I can remember it started with a mildly intense obsession with the Smiling Critters after seeing them in Poppy Playtime Chapter 3. Their carboard soundboards specifically intrigued me. As a fandom we really had ziltch to work with so maybe I was hyper-analyzing their phrases to see if anything could be gleamed from them.

There isn't much unless we are meant to believe Picky is literally a cannibal. I don't think so? I think the voice lines have been corrupted by the metric ton of death that happened within the factory. Be it as it may, what little we fanon-ize about the critters, a lot of it is probably coming from those soundboards.

A post about this already exists on tumblr but at some random point I thought, "Weird Bobby Bearhug and Dogday's cut outs sound like they are talking to one another." Not sure how my brain jumped to that conclusion but it did. As seen in this post with some old oogly art I drew.

And then @meowcola made my dream come true by editing the two voices together. Yhaass! For this I am forever grateful to my fellow shipper.

I don't think any of the other critter's voice lines bounce off of each other as well as these two do (admittedly with slight editing), or even at all. But Bobby and Dogday's cutouts almost seem to have a conversation that don't work played against any of the others. Dogday trying to push someone away that he cares for and Bobby desperately trying to stay with someone she cares for.

Dogday's fall is he cares too much.

Bobby's fall is she doesn't care enough. For herself.

Obviously they are talking to the player actually but my fanon ship brain interpreted it differently. I guess from there, albeit a doomed one, I shipped this ship fairly hard.

The rest of this rambling essay under the cut:

Why I think they work:

Dogday and Bobby’s relationship is mostly about balance. While Dogday’s the brave and daring leader of the group (except when there's a thunderstorm—he tries), Bobby’s the physically strong yet practical one. She’s a total powerhouse,(literal mama bear energy) ready to protect when needed, but only as a last resort. Dogday loves how protective she is, and Bobby really appreciates his loyalty, especially since it helps with her self-worth issues.

One of Bobby’s biggest insecurities is that she believes she’s annoying to her friends. Even though it’s clear she’s not, in the back of her mind, she constantly second-guesses her actions. She’ll wonder if hugging someone is the right move in the moment or if she’s overstepping. Dogday, on the other hand, is someone who thrives on affection and would never get tired of Bobby’s hugs, making him the perfect counter to her uncertainty.

Both of them would share a strong sense of humor, which helps them face life’s challenges with optimism. Dogday is especially good at this.  They know how to lighten the mood and bring joy to each other’s lives, even when the weight of everything starts to creep in.

Bobby’s also got a knack for stepping in when Dogday forgets to take care of himself. She’s nurturing, and in return, Dogday reminds her she’s worth it, which she sometimes forgets. Though Bobby’s not Dogday’s second-in-command (that’s usually Bubba Bubbaphant), she’s the one Dogday confides in emotionally when leadership wears him down.

Over time, Bobby finds herself leaning on Dogday, too, sharing her deepest insecurities and struggles with him.

What really makes them work is how much everyone trusts Bobby. She’s the keeper of everyone’s secrets because they just naturally open up to her. And eventually, Dogday becomes her rock, giving them this deep emotional connection where they’re both vulnerable and open with each other.

Bobby’s practicality also helps balance out Dogday’s crazier ideas. She rarely says “no” outright, but she’s good at restructuring them to make things safer or less chaotic. If safety’s not the issue, then they’re often the ones mediating when their friends have disagreements. They’ve both learned the importance of compromise and work together to bring peace to any tense situation.

I feel like their brief character descriptions show how good they would both be at this.

They’re known as the “mom and dad” of the group, always looking out for everyone’s physical and emotional well-being.

It’s funny how differently they approach things, like planning events—Dogday’s spontaneous energy versus Bobby’s structured organization—but they still make a great team.

In public, they’ve got this super cute Barbie/Ken - Mickey&Minnie vibe, showing their love for each other without hesitation. It’s strong, proud, and they never shy away from letting everyone know how much they mean to each other!

Character flaws/dark side of the ship:

At their darkest, Bobby and Dogday have some pretty complex flaws. Bobby, when she’s at her worst, can be manipulative. She’s got this way of playing on people’s emotions, sometimes twisting things to suit her needs, all while wearing a caring face. It’s like she knows people trust her and she uses that to her advantage, especially if she’s feeling insecure or threatened.

On the flip side, Dogday’s biggest weakness is his fear of hurting others. He’ll go to great lengths to avoid conflict, even if it means letting himself be hurt. He’s so afraid of causing pain or upsetting someone that he’ll bottle up his own feelings or allow himself to be taken advantage of.

This combination can be dangerous when their issues align, with Bobby’s manipulation and Dogday’s passive acceptance creating a pretty toxic dynamic in their worst moments. Thankfully this outcome is incredibly hard for me to see happening. It is still a possibility though.

(In some messed up but interesting fanfiction)

Other Stuff:

On the wiki I saw something incredibly minute but decided to go ahead and make something of it.  There is the idea, at least, that Dogday is named after “Dogstar” aka Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. If you think about Dogday being associated with Sirius, the Dog Star, and Bobby representing Ursa Major aka The Big Dipper, in my mind it symbolizes how their relationship works.

Sirius is the brightest star, leading the way, just like Dogday, who's bold, full of energy, and always guiding others. Bobby, on the other hand, is like Ursa Major—steady, reliable, and always there to support.

Their relationship reflects that balance: Dogday’s light and leadership are complemented by Bobby’s protective, grounding nature. Together, they’re like two guiding forces—he lights the way, and she provides the strength and stability needed to stay on course.

It’s almost like he can shine brighter because he knows she’s there, holding things together.

And for Bobby, Dogday is the spark that keeps her moving forward, even when she feels uncertain.

It’s also cool how Ursa Major is used for navigation, like Bobby helps Dogday find his way emotionally. Meanwhile, Sirius has been a marker of important times like the "dog days" of summer or the flooding of the Nile river, (The flooding of the Nile is celebrated btw, it's a good thing) just as Dogday marks big changes in Bobby’s life.

They balance each other out like the constellations they represent: one a guiding light, the other a steady, protective force in the background.

I think about the cardboard cutout order. Bobby and Dogday are among the last supposedly, holding out even longer than the athletic Hoppy. I interpret that to mean Bobby on her own has a strong will and some amount of bravery.

Not to throw shade at the others who fell before, as it could have all come down to bad luck.(or bad platforming skills--burn.)  But I bring the “possible” death order up as some might say Bobby’s sweet and caring nature means she is weak or useless. I don’t think so.

This is also why I characterize Bobby as sort of a lady-like yet cute bruiser. Dogday is brave but not the strongest critter by far.  Dogday is  Zelda and Bobby is Link lol.  Bobby Bearhug is his knight in fluffy armor, and Dogday is Bobby’s warm home.

There is a tragedy to this. If Bobby was one of the last two  with Dogday in the game. (Going by the order the cardboard cutouts are seen.) I imagine she was doing her best to support him, only for Dogday to abandon Bobby near the end. As the leader, Dogday did what he thought was best and it broke her, ultimately ending them both.

How the relationship Helps them grow:

Not wanting to end this on a down note I’ll speak a bit more on how the relationship enhances both of them.

Bobby’s practical, more thoughtful approach doesn’t just temper Dogday’s adventurous spirit as what may be expected from a dynamic like this. In fact it enhances his daring. 

Yes, it'll ease him off riskier behavior but it enables him to be a more successful leader with her providing safety nets and or foundations for him to be confident. It's not just him willing confidence from within, there's another external pillar to  bolster his confidence. That pillar being her secret knowledge of their friends. While Bobby won't be spilling secrets, she'd certainly know how to guide Dogday in the right direction when it comes to helping the others.

She helps ensure that his ideas are successful and safe, so he'll not only be able to focus his energy on particulars but he'll have the confidence to be the best leader he can be, knowing he won't just come crashing down to earth.  

In turn Dogday's boundless energy, brings joy and spontaneity to Bobby’s more grounded maybe reserved, structured world.  Though she is strong she likely tends to fall back to what's familiar, to what's safe. There is strength in the familiar in the sense of you know for sure you are strong here, but out there things may be more uncertain. 

Out there you can feel weak. At least that's the perception for some with issues of self worth. But now with his energy, his enthusiasm, his optimism, and his light, she'll have the freedom to step out of her usual comfort zones and perhaps be more than she may have imagined. 

Sooo yeah. This ship is not bad. Nor is it boring. I'll never understand how this sentiment came about. Opposites attract isn't the only way a relationship can be interesting. Okay people?

 And that is all that I have to say! Thanks for listening to my CritterTalk.

[patron-saints]

the official beginner's guide to olizumi

so! you're a fan of fma or maybe a friend of mine, and you're interested in learning more about the relationship between olivier mira armstrong and izumi curtis! great, you've come to exactly the right place.

if it's been a while since you've seen fma:b, or if you've never seen it and don't mind watching some scenes from the final arc, i recommend getting started with my compilation:

(original video post here)

when i first watched fma:b back in march 2023, i thought i would manage to watch the entire thing without getting obsessed with a wlw ship. i was wrong. the second these two started interacting i immediately became enamored with the trust, respect, and intimacy that they share, and with the way they seemed to find in each other the same steely spirit, grit, and inner sense of self. their ability to communicate their philosophies, despite their differences, and listen to each other with ease and tenderness just. GOT ME. they got me.

get ready for SO MUCH MORE under the cut:

(i was lucky enough to have a chance to draw up a little list of most of my headcanons about them, which can be found here! the most important of which i'd say are that i write them as t4t, and olivier as a stone top!)

if you're convinced of their chemistry just from that, great, my job here is done! but if you don't believe me yet, or you want a little more, it would be my honor to point you in the direction of the first ever fic i wrote for them, "recognition." (tumblr post for chapter 1 here!)

"recognition" can best be described as a 4 chapter old woman yaoi where (almost) nothing happens and two milves fall in love. or if you like, sorry izumi, two very young women navigate the beginnings of a long distance relationship, polyamory, workaholism, and chronic illness. it is sickeningly fluffy, and to date the longest thing i've ever published.

it even comes with an illustration! @wlwsakura did THIS for me:

(original post here) which i will never be over not in one million years!

AND it also comes with a whole entire soundtrack, made by myself and my dearest friend @summerwoodsmoke! kinda a folksy gentle, very sappy vibe. i still listen to it all the time! alex picked some bangers tbh.

for the very first @fma-rareships event, i wrote two little ficlets set in the world of "recognition," which are here and here!

if you're keeping track so far, that's a compilation, a headcanon list, a fic(+ficlets), a commission, and a playlist. but wait, there's more!

so, okay, maybe 23k is too long for you. or maybe fluff isn't your thing. or maybe, somehow, you've made it through all that and you want more. not to worry. i have more.

just this week, i posted "bone deep" (tumblr post here), which is a 5k E rated omegaverse fic that's kind of like recognition on fastforward and if i didn't cut out the sex scenes. and if it was omegaverse. it's the first omega thing i've ever written, but i really wanted a chance to write more in depth about how i see olivier's stone identity, and weirdly this setting gave me the chance to do that!

and now we've covered everything i've made for them...so far. but i want to give a shout out to some others in the rarepairs mines with me, because i'm not the only one who care them!

@machinerismsx's fic "An Open Invitation" is genuinely incredible. it's hilariously funny (there's lines in there i still think about and giggle), and also like. super hot. we didn't know anything about each other's fic projects til after i posted "recognition," but we were stunned to realize we'd written a lot of the exact same plot points, including what i refer to as The Curtis-Armstrong Alliance.

you may have noticed that in my compilation, sig and alex also had like, off the charts chemistry. m and i noticed that too! so in both of our fics, while sig and izumi are still married, they are also each get an armstrong all to themselves, lol.

which brings me to @eggos-esper! my brother-in-arms who is out here as the reigning champ of sigalex! (& you can read the sigalex fic i wrote for him on ao3 here ((or see the tumblr post here!)))

but maybe you're nostalgic for youth. or you like epistolary fics. or maybe you, like me, are deeply obsessed with the miniep "tale of the teacher." if that's you, PLEASE PLEASE check out @baudleaires's fic "Notes from Briggs" it is the cutest thing on planet earth and it had me kicking and squealing the entire time.

maybe you want more art! there's more art!

@iztopher did this one for my birthday and it made me actually scream and then weep:

and @wlwsakura's first piece of them is what made me commission her in the first place:

it's still the photo for one of the groupchats i'm in. it rules.

also, while they're not on tumblr atm, i could not bear to make this list without acknowledging @chillingoose, who is one of my dearest friends and who has come up with some truly stunning things for olizumi as well.

and! and! also @littlebear1537! who loves briggs more than anyone else in the universe!

if i managed to miss anything, my olizumi tag is here! there's not a ton in it at the moment, but there are some jokes, like this one by @heavenlyshadowhunter:

:D

i would LOVE to add more to that tag by any means possible, so if you make anything for olizumi, PLEASE tag me in it! i am also going to work on setting up @olizumi as more of a proper archive too! (edit: i did it! it’s a real blog now!)

thank you so much for reading this incredibly long post, and for giving my girls a chance! <3!

[matan4il]

Hi Alice! All my love to you in these dark dark times. You've been instrumental to me learning more about what it's like in Israel on the ground right now, and helping me not get swept up in the vitriolic rhetoric so many of my fellow liberals are espousing. I've been horrified by some of the behavior I've seen from the pro-Palestine crowd. I quietly support both sides of the conflict, and hope to see a return of the hostages, a subsequent ceasefire, and a realistic path to a two-state solution in the near future.

I'm asking this in good faith because I trust your research and input on these things, and I'm curious about your perspective. TW for rape and torture. I've seen a report come out on one of the tumblrs I follow (who is very pro-Palestine and anti-Zionist, unfortunately, I only follow them for fandom content) stating that there's been torturous conditions inside Israeli prisons–Sde Teiman specifically–detaining Palestinians. It includes accusations of rape, beatings, and amputations due to injuries from being cuffed. I was wondering if you had seen this report and had thoughts about whether this is another anti-Israel smear campaign or a cruel reality of bad people doing bad things. I'm always inclined to believe victims, and as an American, I'm painfully aware of the atrocities that can happen in detentions centers, especially during wartime.

Please know I'm not accusing you of anything or trying to make this a gotcha thing! I'm curious about your thoughts as an Israeli who does good research and knows her country and history. Thank you again for all you do, and I'm so sorry to hear about your colleague's murder. May you and your loved ones find as much rest and peace as can be found in a time like this. Take care.

Hi Nonnie,

thank you so much for your kind words (especially regarding Alex), your humaneness and willingness to listen to Jews and Israelis! Absolutely, there is no contradiction in supporting regular people on both sides of this conflict. This is NOT a zero-sum game. Both sides can thrive, if we all choose and are just allowed to coexist.

Okay, the Sde Teiman accusations...

Let me start with the history of this army base, because it is relevant to how it was used.

In 1942, the Nazis landed in northern Africa, and were headed eastwards, toward the Land of Israel. As a part of getting ready for that, The British (who ruled Israel at the time) paved a strip of asphalt in the desert, not too far from the expected direction of the Nazis' invasion, and used it as an airfield. They also built a few hangars next to the runway, and this is what in the 1950's became the military base called Sde Teiman ("Field of Yemen," in honor of the Israeli's air force operation of airlifting the Jews of Yemen, and bringing them to Israel. Along with the operation to bring the Ethiopian and Indian Jews to Israel, these mark the only times when a "first world" country brought people from "third world" countries - with the goal of making them citizens with equal rights). I'm sharing this info, so everyone can get an idea of how small and insufficient this army base is for the purpose of detaining prisoners. And indeed, under normal circumstances, it is NOT used for that purpose.

However, when Hamas launches surprise attacks from Gaza, it has been used for temporary detention (until arrested terrorists can be transferred to more adequate facilities) simply because of its proximity to Israel's border with Gaza.

That's how it was used following the Oct 7 Hamas invasion of Israel, too. Things to note about this: Israel did not initiate the massacre and following war, so it didn't have time to prepare a better temporary detention center with personnel properly trained to be jailors, and also, while Sde Teiman had been used temporarily for terrorist detention before, it was never used for as many arrested terrorists as after Oct 7. Consider that on the day itself alone, around 3,500 terrorists invaded Israel, and that was just the first day of the war.

When it comes to general accusations of awful conditions there, which might lead to terrible consequences, a big part of it is probably down to the fact that this base was not meant for this purpose (and the fact that it was used this way is because of the nature of Hamas' attack rather than any intended maliciousness).

The conditions were all wrong as a result of the chaos of war regarding the sexual assault case, too. The guards were not trained to be jailors, they didn't have the right tools to deal with arrested terrorists, especially these terrorists, who belonged to the Nukhba, a Hamas "elite" unit and the main perpetrator of the massacre (the Nukhba to Hamas are like the Waffen SS to the Nazis, imagine what Israelis feel when they hear "Nukhba"). Think of the atrocities committed by these men: the rapes, the beheadings, the mutilations, the murder of children, the burning down of homes with people inside, the extermination of entire families, the destruction of Israel's southern communities, and the psychological trauma caused to the entire country, when many are already dealing with lots of trauma, including of the inter-generational kind. Now imagine being an ordinary reservist, a regular civilian, not someone who has chosen the army as a way of life, not someone who has seen the horrors off war recently (or maybe ever), someone with a family that could have easily been targeted on Oct 7, someone who isn't trained for how to jail the vilest of criminals, then tasked with guarding in over-crowded and extremely close settings such monsters while being psychologically affected by their terrorism (which is the main goal of terrorism! To terrorize even those not directly harmed!)...

Initially, 10 soldiers, who are all reservists, were arrested. Since then, it turns out only 5 of them will be indicted (indicating that there is no substantial evidence against the other 5) for supposedly sexually assaulting a Nukhba terrorist. Specifically, the Nukhba company commander of Jabalya. He's not any regular terrorist, he's someone who was a commander that partook in the Oct 7 massacre, he oversaw the committed atrocities, he didn't only commit crimes, he gave the orders. At least one of the suspected soldiers testified that this Nukhba commander was going haywire, and had to be physically subdued. According to reporters, a doctor initially checked this Nukhba commander and found no signs of abuse. Only later did the terrorist start bleeding from his behind. According to a submitted report by Prof. Alon Pikarsky, a senior doctor at Hadassah, the civilian hospital this terrorist was later admitted into, the harm to the terrorist's behind is most likely self-inflicted. Based on accounts from reporters, the overall medical and forensic testimonies submitted cannot confirm nor refute the claims of the Nukhba terrorist.

So when it comes to the case itself, I can't say much. The accusations are serious, the question marks are serious, and I don't have the professional tools to figure out where the truth lies. There will be a trial, more qualified people than me will decide.

Obviously, as an Israeli, I hope the accusations are false. Not because I think there is ANY society out there which is perfect, and in which no crimes ever take place, especially where extreme circumstances are involved, but because I think it's natural to hope for the best for one's people.

Where it comes to the people who tried to stop the arrest of the suspected soldiers, I believe they're in the wrong for multiple reasons: for the sake of justice, for the state of the Israeli justice system, and even for the sake of the soldiers, if it turns out they're innocent. At the same time, while I am NOT okay with the arrests being stopped, I can understand the sentiment. In Israel, especially post Oct 7, soldiers are our most immediate heroes. They risk themselves, they save countless lives, (even the ones "only" guarding terrorists know they could be killed doing this, and they're saving people by keeping the terrorists locked up), they're dealt shitty hands sometimes (like having to guard Nukhba terrorists when they're not even trained for it), and they do all this for us, as a collective, men and women, adults and kids, Jews and Arabs. We ALL owe them, every Israeli. So the sentiment is that there is something difficult to process about a situation where the word of a massacre-committing terrorist commander is believed over that of people who are perceived as heroes. It makes a protective side of people come out, even people who at the end accept that the justice system must do its thing.

And when it comes to the justice system, I think it matters SO MUCH that it will do its thing. No army can prevent every single one of its soldiers, as individuals, from committing crimes. But there are armies that, as a system, commit crimes. The justice system that prosecutes individual crimes is a part of the difference.

Still, even if the accusations are true, even while I'm happy they're investigated, I went into the details of the case, because I do believe that even at worst, there are extenuating circumstances. Those don't turn a wrong act into a right one, but they acknowledge that, under extreme circumstances, and without the right tools, many normative people without criminal intent might end up doing the wrong thing. The psychological burden of guarding extremist terrorists who have traumatized an entire society, including their guards, in close quarters and without the right training, it could be one that would make a lot of regular people crack. I'm glad I've never been tested like that. I'd like to believe I wouldn't have done the wrong thing, but who knows. We're all human, we all have our triggers. Especially in the face of complete evil that harmed our loved ones or threatens to. I feel lucky that I was never put in an extreme situation, like those soldiers, I hope they did the right thing, but I find it hard to morally judge them if they didn't, even where I recognize that if they did what they're accused of, they should be legally judged.

IDK if this helped, but I hope it at least reflects the fact that for quite a few Israelis ('coz I can't speak or all of us, but I think this probably represents a fair number of people), it is complicated, and not a clear-cut case of black and white, good vs evil...

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[thesensteawitch]

What's Your Beauty?🥀

Pick A Pile Reading

💚(Left to Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)💚

Hello, Senstea Souls!

I am back with another collective reading that will tell you what's beautiful about you. Take this reading as it resonates. For any personal readings feel free to DM me or email me at thesensteawitch@gmail.com.

Pile 1

Tarot Cards: 2 of Swords, 8 of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, 5 of Wands, 2 of Wands, Ace of Cups, 3 of Cups, 7 of Swords

My dear pile 1, you are as beautiful as it gets. It's only you who cannot see it. Just like a deer doesn't know that the fragrance is coming from its naval and searches for it in the whole forest same is the case with you. You see beauty in everything and everyone except yourself. Have you forgotten that the beauty that we see in others is in ourselves? Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder. God, I feel so sorry for you that I have to remind you this because something happened to you your own thoughts make you believe that you're not beautiful. I will tell you what's your beauty. Your beauty is that you are hardcore loyal when it comes to relationships in your life. You make sure that every friendship and relationship is based on strong foundations. You provide stability and protection to your loved ones. You don't see people as competitors and this quality of you is such emanant that others envy you. Even those who are close to you. It's those who you cherish the most. They secretly want to cut your wings and they even do. Someone is fishy around you. Some of you may be great planners, adventurers, and artists. I sense strong Sagittarius and Capricorn placements. The thread that you bind with others is your beauty. How you intricate relationships with calm and how you give others space to pour their heart out is your beauty, pile 1. Your only weak point is you give others words more value than yours. And that's where you lose your beauty. New voices emerge in your head and keep feeding you with information about someone that you are not. Your beauty grows on people. It's slow but refreshing. You nurture others to the extent that you sometimes end up parenting them. You're so beautiful pile 1 save yourself from predators. Sending so much love your way. If you want to know your Divine Masculine/Feminine energy then feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox. Below I am sharing my:

Rate Card

Booking Form

Pile 2

Tarot Cards: 9 of swords, 6 of wands, 3 of cups, 6 of swords, the hanged man, 7 of cups, 2 of wands, king of pentacles

Hello, my dear pile 2. I see something strange here. You stick to extremes. If you shift your perception and choose to see the situation upside down you'll notice what you've achieved till now. If you just keep aside the sleepless nights you'll see what those sleepless nights have given to you. They made you shine like a star in front of a crowd. You've been praised by many people in your lifetime. There may be many who broke your heart but there was always that one person who acted as the silver lining to your dark clouds. You're a great performer pile 2. You are a great friend. You are an overachiever despite facing so many challenges in your life. And you doubt your beauty? Come on!!!!! You have the quality of Jesus, self-sacrifice. You've sacrificed a lot to be where you are today. You are very good at balancing things, pile 2. Somewhere your career might be suffering nowadays but believe me you can manage. I hear, “We have come so far my dear look how we have grown.” Free yourself from all the wrong narratives of beauty you have got stuck in your brain. Beauty comes from within. Focus on grooming your soul and pull it out of the mud. You need emotional healing. You are too concerned about your relationships. You are everything a person can ask for. You don't need assurance from anybody. You don't even need it from me. You know that deep down ARE A BEAUTIFUL SOUL. Your dreams are waiting for you to achieve them. You think things through is your beauty. For some of you, I am getting that your sibling may be your strength. Those who stayed are the ones who know what you have. Those who force you to stay now don't know how to stop themselves from taking from you. You can sometimes be that addictive for people. Ask yourself what's there that you need to heal within. If you want to know your Divine Masculine/Feminine energy then feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox. Below I am sharing my:

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Pile 3

Tarot Cards: Temperance, The Fool, 5 of Pentacles, The Empress, Knight of Wands, The Star, 3 of Cups, 8 of Cups

Hello, my beautiful pile 3. I see that your beauty is that you stay with people through thick and thin. Even if you suffer you stay. You only walk away when you are not cherished or valued for what you are giving to another person. You have passion for life. You know your limits but you still carry yourself as if you are limitless. You stretch your dreams as far as you can. You are not afraid to demand. You don't think you deserve less but life at times throws difficulties your way. When the choice is needed to be made you realise that you're only human and you can only do so much. You have many wishes and there's no way that you feel you can't have them. Some of you may have life path 5. You are dreamers. Your beauty lies in your never-ending optimism. You work hard and smart. Your ideas are unmatchable. You not only think but show the world what we can dream we can achieve. I am amazed! So beautiful, pile 3. No one can stop you from achieving what you want and people around you know that. You have the strength to walk away from relationships that come in the way of your big goals. The world you want to create is just not about money. It's also about the community. As you have so many desires and things to do your life asks you to organize well so that you can perform tasks well and on time. It's important for you to not let yourself get involved in work that doesn't fit well with you. Your enthusiasm can sometimes take the best of you. Make sure you plan things through by not letting your passion go out of your hand. Last but not least you carry the faith of a child. If you once prayed for something you believe it's going to happen. It's a quality that adults struggle with but I am happy to see that you still carry faith in your heart. It is the only thing that is going to bring your dreams into reality. It's the most important ingredient, my friend. If you want to know your Divine Masculine/Feminine energy then feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox. Below I am sharing my:

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[extendedtimeline]

Batman: Bloodstorm & Queerness

READ: this has been posted on twitter aswell, so if you find that, it's me lol! This will be an even longer version of that, with more description as I don't have the pesky world limit here! I wanted to start this out by saying I may get some things wrong, and this was something I'd originally had posted on a Mastodon Server my friends are running so I wasn't checking it over very much, just wanted to get my thoughts out! There are probably a lot of different ways this comic can be read, but I'm particularly enamored by queer readings of comics so that's what I'll be focusing on today. This won't be exhaustive on the queer metaphors in this comic, and I'd be happy for people to add on to what I say! I'm not an expert on making analysis posts, so forgive me if anything is unclear or out of place. I'm also getting used to Tumblr formatting, but fans here tend to be more active so I really wanted to share here! With that, let's get into it

Brief Summary

Before getting into my reading, I thought it best to give a (semi-) brief Summary of the comic itself. There's also someone context from the previous comic (as this is part of a trilogy!) that I'll try to provide too, but a lot of the material I'll talk about isn't really dependent on the fact you have the experience of reading Red Rain.

In "Batman: Bloodstorm" Bruce has been turned into a vampire (the previous comic delves into how this happened, but just know he's sort of shed the identity of "Bruce Wayne" and has given in to being Batman more "full time"). Batman finds out there are vampires he has not "killed" yet (as he had killed a large sum of them in Red Rain)(Because Vampires are undead he does not consider it murder to take them out). While he hunts these vamps down he is heavily resisting the urge to suck blood, and because he has resisted it, he is getting progressively weaker, to the point it's hard to do much of anything. In the first comic, Tanya (a vampire woman he had become friends with) had synthesized this replacement for blood, that would keep her alive and well without the need to kill. Bruce tries to recreate this, but it's not enough for him and he continues to become weaker the most he resists sucking blood.

While this is happening Joker has started working with the vampires LOL he's just being Joker using his charm and stuff to get them to comply.

Cut to Selina who we see get attacked by a werewolf like creature, and she becomes a werecat from this attack (I'd like to note, the way this was framed it very much reads like sexual assault). She intends to get her male attacker back for what he did to her.

Selina attacks Batman believing him to be the man, but they clear it up fast that he is not. She wants to help him, but in Batman fashion he denies her help.

There's this woman who Batman has been going to, trying to gain information on these super natural occurrings. He asks her if it's possible for him to survive when he doesn't drink blood, and asks what an alternative may be. She basically says GET A BITCH! (he needs the loving touch of a woman or something)

When he runs away from the woman, Selina finds him and takes him to her apartment where they cuddle until morning, and he DOES feel better after this. Like a considerable amount. He feels like his weakness is going away. So he lets her in on his scheme to catch the Joker and the rest of the vamps. They go to find them and take them down.

During the scuffle Joker shoots Selina with an arrow and she's killed. Batman, filled with rage, finally gives in to his urge to suck blood, and he sucks the Jokers blood. Making sure to take the necessary precautions afterwards to ensure Joker doesn't come back to life as a vampire.

In this world, if you suck blood, you become impure, and start to have reactions to stereotypical vampire deterrents. Batman believes himself to be unsafe now that he's sucked blood, and tasks Gordan and Alfred with killing him.

How is this queer?

In this section we will operate under the assumption queerness and vampirism are inherently intertwined in this story. That is to say, vampirism is just a stand in for queerness or queer experiences. Vampires and vampire media has been queercoded and littered with queer subtext for DECADES. I recommend reading up on it, or if you're into Video Essays I really enjoyed this video about the bisexualness of Dracula, specifically!

In these next images Batman is talking to another vampire about his vampirism (or more like the Vampire is talking AT him and Batman tries to deny it).

Batman says that he does NOT drink blood, and the way the vampire responds seems almost erotic lol? He tells Batman that he knows he WANTS to drink blood, and that sooner or later he'll just have to give in to it. Again, batman denies, denies, denies, but it's because he knows it to be TRUE, the desire is only getting stronger.

The vampire calls him a "filthy blood junkie" (to me this seems akin to calling a queer person "faggot" perhaps). The way he says that the vampirism is just "tempting the natural predator in [him]." struck me as a way of saying "you've always been queer, but the urge (to do something about it) is undeniable now, so what are you going to do about it?" The vampire goes on to say he used to HATE the site of blood (perhaps that he used to hate his own queerness and hid from it) but now that he's a vampire he craves it. It gives him satisfaction, exactly what he needs, he can't get enough of it.

This whole interaction reads (to me) as this man describing his queer awakening to Batman, connecting his own experience to Batmans, recognizing the signs. But Batman doesn't believe this. He doesn't WANT to give in.

These next images I share focus on Batman denying himself blood.

He describes how he's become addicted to the idea of something he's never even had before. This resonated with me, when you're discovering your queerness it seems a lot bigger than it is (bc being queer would be something easy, if there weren't societal pressures), and craving to have this experience you've never gotten. He seems afraid of himself. He sees himself as a predator, as someone people should fear. He doesn't want to be "tempted" by Alfred. I dont think he'd ever do anything to Alfred here, in a queer reading, I'd say this is the result of being told by people that you are predatory for who you love, and it becoming so Ingrained in your sense of self you BELIEVE it.

Next, I want to touch on WHY Bruce is so comforted by Selina. Why she literally makes him stronger, I have two ways I think this could be taken in my reading.

After cuddling with Selina all night, Batman feels MUCH better. He is getting his strength back just from being near her.

1) This is an interpretation I think is sweet, above anything else, that I was thinking about while reading. Selina is a werecat, Batman is a vampire. They can relate to eachother. They're both queer. They're both feared for something they cannot control. The reason Batman finds comfort in Selina is because she is his community. Living in places where there aren't a lot of openly queer people, finding another queer person is a major comfort. You feel less alone. She is giving him something he's desperately needed, and that's the hope that his future isn't doomed because of who he loves.

2) The reason she comforts him is because she validated his heterosexuality. He is cuddling with her and doing things that are stereotypically romantic and that comforts him because it means he can still "mask" (for lack of a better way to put that) his queerness. When he is with her, he can pretend that he is not fighting this battle with himself. He can pretend he is what society deems "normal".

When Selina is killed, Batman refers to her as "[his] last hope."

I think my second reading makes sense in this context, she was literally his last hope at denying his queerness, but with her gone he no longer feels he can hold back what he's been dealing with.

Batman is shown resisting what would normally hurt a vampire because he is still "pure". He hasn't tasted blood (had a queer experience). he brings up Selina having selfless love for him, she made him stronger. (Side note: that's really fucking sweet and I love batman and Selina sm)

This next image made my jaw drop, because to me, if you replace the word "sane" with perhaps "heterosexual" or "straight" it would make A LOT of sense.

Batman has completely given up on hiding his queerness. There's no point in resisting it anymore (was there ever when he knew how this would end eventually?).

I'll leave a transcription of the cursive in the alt text for these next pages. I feel the experience is a lot better when you read them yourself.

So yeah, Batman describes (very erotically might I add!) sucking the Jokers blood. Literally saying the Joker has WON. And like, I feel like this is speaking for itself but I'll try to describe how I felt while reading.

Batman giving in to something he's always wanted, and immediately feeling Shame and guilt at what he's done. Much like how, when things stay in your mind, you can deny them, but when you act things out (like being queer with someone-) you can no longer deny what you desire. He becomes impure once he sucks Jokers blood, so he runs away from all that can hurt him, and asks Gordon and Alfred to end him. Because what is he supposed to do now? Live on knowing what he has done, what he will become if he keeps going? If it's just one person, he can destroy the evidence of it ever happening, continue to deny what he knows to be true, but if there were more? he simply wouldn't be able to stay in denial.

I think Joker being the character here too, adds so much for me personally (as someone who likes batjokes) because in the literal sense it is Batman giving in to his urge to kill Joker, but from a queer standpoint, it seems like something entirely different. He hates the Joker, but he cant help but give in to this hidden desire he has that has been taking over his mind. It makes so much sense it's the Joker, because he is his greatest temptation.

[thorniest-rose]

Hi everyone,

A lot’s happened over the last few days and I know that I’ve been under a lot of scrutiny and the subject of conversation, so I wanted to take a moment to talk about it with you. I didn't address it last week when I was told that people in the fandom were posting about me and sharing screenshots of my blog. This was to protect my mental health, but now I want to share my own thoughts.

It's really hard not to lash out in situations like this because of how much it hurts. To go through something like this is shocking and humiliating, it rips the ground up from under your feet. But I didn't want to go on the attack because I knew how much worse that would make things. No matter how opinionated I am, conflict makes me feel sick and makes me want to hide. So instead of lashing out, I've done a lot of thinking over the past few days, not just about what's happened to me, but about things I've done and what could have led to this.

Firstly, I want to apologise to everyone whose feelings I may have hurt when I posted certain things in the past. I want any space that I cultivate to be a happy, positive one for the people who spend time here and at times I think I’ve unintentionally created an atmosphere that has felt combative or alienating. I honestly never consider myself to be a well-known writer or someone whose voice has reach in the wider fandom. No matter how many followers I have or how many people read my fics, I always see myself as a girl just spending time on her tumblr, but that's naive and I should have recognised that in a shared space, all opinions are seen and have an impact. 

Discourse is my least favourite thing about interacting in fandom and there have been times where I’ve let myself be drawn into it. That doesn’t mean it’s ever okay to look down on what other people enjoy and I really regret posting those things now because that’s not who I am as a person. Expressing displeasure and other negative feelings isn’t what I want to engage in and I should remember how easy it is for flippant, spur of the moment comments to be taken out of context. Saying things like “I don’t like this” even on my own blog is immature and beneath me and I’m genuinely sorry.  

I am also in no way any sort of authority on how these characters are written, no one is. A fandom is for everyone. I’m passionate and vocal in my own space because I treat my tumblr as a slumber party with my friends, but in my enthusiasm, there have been times where it seems like I’m saying my characterisations are the only valid ones. I don’t think that’s the case at all, and I genuinely love and admire the creativity in this fandom. I’ve said this before, but just because I have preferences doesn’t mean I want every characterisation to be the same as mine because that would become extremely dull. I believe that any and all interpretations should have an audience.

However, while I take responsibility for the things I've said on my blog, the things that have been said about me in response have been extremely spiteful and damaging. I never wanted a war with anyone. I should know better than to court discourse in such a volatile fandom, even inadvertently. To take issue with me and what I said is fine, I accept the criticism and apologise; at times my comments have been juvenile and mean-spirited. But a group of people targeting me, screenshotting my posts, calling me names and attacking what I write isn’t proportionate at all and encourages a wider pack mentality. I think we should all remember that there is an actual person behind the screen reading the things that we post and that our words can cause real harm. It’s easy to dehumanise an avatar and a username. And I think it speaks to a rot at the heart of fandoms that so many people find pleasure in fighting and where feelings can fester into hatred and vitriol.

I am outspoken and passionate about what I love. I sometimes bristle at things I see that don’t gel with my ideas or at a misjudged tone, and I post about them instead of seeing the bigger picture and moving on. It’s a flaw and something I’m working on, to be more open and less reactive. I don’t want fighting or tension, and I don’t want rivalries. I also don’t ever want to make people feel like their characterisations are wrong/invalid/unworthy or that they themselves don’t belong and that I’m some kind of fandom queen bee trying to ice them out. While that’s genuinely never been my intention, I can see how things have been taken that way and I’m sorry for that too.

Again, I’m sorry to everyone I’ve hurt or alienated with comments that I’ve made. I always want to be kind and compassionate. And while I don’t think what’s happened over the past few days is OK, I can see the bigger picture and why things I’ve said, or the atmosphere I’ve cultivated, has planted seeds of resentment. I've also unblocked the person who's been posting about me, if they want to reach out to talk privately.

I know there are people reading this who have been following me for the past four years, and in that time have seen me struggle, and fall down, and make mistakes, but hopefully grow and learn from those mistakes too. I’m so grateful to you all.

I’m going to take a break from tumblr for a week or so, to spend time away from socials, to connect with friends and other passions and focus on self-care. And to write, of course, because I’ll always be writing, whether it’s here or elsewhere.

See you all soon,

Brooke 💕

[girlgerard]

hey! ik you have a big following, and you’ve mentioned visiting israel and palestine on school trips— i really think your voice would be valuable in speaking out on the injustices happening in that region. you always speak so eloquently on race/gender issues on your blog and i’m really interested in hearing your take! plus i think your platform is large enough to really make a good stand!

i appreciate that you sent this ask, and i appreciate that you thought of me. i agree with everything you’re saying, and i wanted to respond to this immediately because of that, even if i don’t have much of an answer to share.

i’ve studied the conflict for years and, like you said, was in israel and palestine (as in the territories named as such) six months ago; i was at the gaza border in may. i actually disqualified myself from birthright because i wanted to be able to go on academic dispensation specifically (i couldn’t go to the west bank otherwise). i study sociology and jewish studies in my degree program. i’m jewish, i’m south asian, i come from a family of refugees, i come from a family of jains, i come from a family of, like, californians, i come from a family with just as many intersections as any other. suffice to say, i have a lot, a lot of emotions tied up in the levant.

the thing is, because i’ve studied it for so long, and because i study sociology specifically, i also know that saying something before i’ve processed it well enough is irresponsible. this conflict is wrapped up in linguistics; the wording you use is everything. i’m really aware of that, i’m also really aware that i’m not in a place where i feel comfortable enough to articulate myself properly. for my own safety, for responsibility’s sake, and because i’m aware of how nuanced and linguistically fucked discussing this conflict is, i don’t want to make a large statement on it while i’m not in a place to do so.

what i will say for now is that if you’re viewing this conflict as a soccer game between two teams, you are not viewing this conflict in a humanist way. normal civillians, palestinian, druze, samaritan, jewish, israeli arab, armenian, any normal person who lives in the land, should be the only “team” you’re on the side of. listen to people who are from the land, read sources in arabic, read sources in hebrew, read multiple perspectives in multiple languages for every event you want to understand better. understanding how important history, generational trauma, and narrative are in this conflict is essential to understanding why any of this is happening, and if anyone says there’s a simpler way to do it, there’s not. no one tribe in the land can leave, and no one tribe in the land deserves anything less than peace and self determination. personally, my first thought about war is how much i care about people, not which state i feel like backing.

i may post more on tumblr, i may post more on other platforms, i may choose keep my activism in-person rather than purely online. navigating all of this while also being pretty devastated and horrified is complex, and i ask for understanding.

[jolynesmom]

hey can u share ur void success story? Would love to see it

hii this is the storytime I promised about getting into the void first try <3

disclaimer: this post is long asf, I like being very detailed when talking about such stuff because you may never know which insignificant detail might help someone + I always liked when people would go into detail about shifting or the void state

this happened a few months ago. I’m a reality shifter and have been trying for around 4 years and never succeeded for more than a few seconds, so I got extremely burned out with the traditional methods

I decided to research about shifting on tumblr to see if the community is popular here as well (previously I’ve only researched about it on tiktok, reddit and a bit on youtube) and found a bit of general info about shifting, but what has gotten my attention was a person who got into the void state and instantly manifested their desires. I thought it looked a lot like shifting so I read some more

I knew a tiny bit about the void state from shifttok, but I’ve never been interested to learn more until that point. the og post said that they specifically reached the void state by doing yoga nidra so I thought it was a requirement for the void at that point. I didn’t know what yoga nidra was, so I sent the person a message asking about it and went about my day deciding I’m giving up on traditional methods and will start to work with the void state

for some reason I didn’t research any further that day (probably because I was burnt out by my shifting attempt the night before and didn’t feel like ingesting more information)

at night I decided to try to shift again. I drank blue lotus tea and put on a guided meditation. after 10 minutes I get bored and switched the meditation for white, brown and pink noises and fell asleep saying affirmations

I got woken up by my alarm at around 10 a.m. (I didn’t shift) and I tried to get out of bed to really woke up, but I ended up falling asleep until 11:30 a.m. when I got woken up again by my loud parents getting ready for work, so I tried to play on my phone to get more lucid and not fall asleep again because I didn't feel like getting out of bed, but I also didn't want to continue sleeping. my eyes were practically closing by themselves atp, but I went on tumblr and saw the person I messaged the night before answered my message and said they'll post a guide one of these days. after thanking them I closed my eyes again thinking of the void state. I remember saying to myself something like “I really want to get into the void, I can’t wait for the guide so I can do yoga nidra”

for the next hour I fell asleep for 10 minutes then woke up for 1-3 minutes at least 3 times (I was very tired, probably because of the previous shifting attempt) and my thoughts were completely blank;

at some point I find myself in my kitchen trying to make coffee and I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or not because the dream was very clear and I usually make coffee after getting out of bed so I thought I had finally woken up

I noticed the jar of instant coffee was almost empty and I asked myself "why is it almost empty, I bought a new jar yesterday" (I finished my jar yesterday and wanted to buy a new one today btw), then when I went pick up the jar I was instantly hit with the realization that I was lucid dreaming, so not even a second later I threw myself to the ground in a crisscross position to allow myself to fall through the floor and shift to my dr

when I hit the ground I closed my eyes and stated my intention of wanting to shift to my jujutsu kaisen dr, but I didn’t even get to finish my intention when I felt myself being pulled through the floor in an infinite dark void; I realized I entered the void state

I was calm, but really wanted to get to my dr, so I started affirming and visualizing. I felt myself being pulled again through the void, a bit lower, before stopping again

I got annoyed and started thinking of my dr again then started hearing a voice; I listened for a bit then realized I was hearing an argument between yuuji and megumi. I didn't understand because they were talking in japanese, but at the same time I understood the message?? they were arguing about how to exorcise a curse or something like that

the weird thing about their voices is that when I dream, lucid dream, visualize or make up scenarios, all the voices are quiet and muffled in the distance and the tone never changes, but the voices I was hearing were loud and clear as if I was next to them, which has NEVER happened to me before. I think I literally stood there frozen for 15 seconds because of how loud and real (?) their voices sounded

anyways

I was getting annoyed because I kept getting distracted and started saying affirmations and trying to imagine where I wanted to wake up. I couldn't feel my body the whole time, I was pure conciseness.

I told myself that as long as I shift, I don't care where I end up, then suddenly I started to hear more voices including a girl's voice (they were most probably people from other drs of mine).

I got confused and a bit alarmed, so I asked out loud what do I have to do to shift. suddenly all the voices got muffled and a man with a lower voice started talking to me in english. I didn't know who that was and I got confused, but tried my best to follow his instructions. I started to hear noises from my cr (the cars passing my apartment as I live in a noisy area) but tried not to wake up. because of the noises I woke up and suddenly I was in my room again. I panicked but didn’t open my eyes or move my body (I could semi-feel my body, but it was mostly asleep) and literally yelled in my mind ‘I want to get back into the void!!’ suddenly I’m in the void again, this time I didn’t feel the falling sensation, it was instant

back into the void I saw nothing was working I decided to shift to my waiting room because I remembered someone once saying that a waiting room is some kind of parallel located between your cr and other realities and this is why it can be easier to shift there. I intended to shift to my waiting room then felt how my body got pulled lower into the void again, then it suddenly stopped when I heard my phone buzzing in my cr because of a notification

I got extremely frustrated and decided to fully wake up

I woke up at around 1:20 p.m. and was very happy with what I just went through.

thinking about the last voice for a bit, I initially thought it was gojo, but it sounded too different to be him, plus the man was talking in english, so I figured it could've been zhongli from my genshin dr since I scripted english is an universal language in teyvat, but then I thought it was weird that he responded since I'm not very close to him in my dr, but after some more thinking I realized that we're actually connected in my dr so it kinda makes sense to be him, but I'm still not 100% sure, I'm only sure about hearing yuuji and megumi arguing

it took me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that when I was in the void and said I want to shift to my dr and started falling then stopped and I heard yuuji and megumi, I was actually in my dr and I just needed to wake up. I thought I would get woken up instantly just like with shifting methods, but I actually had to wake myself up from the void. my information was very limited because, like I said in the beginning, I only read one or two posts about the void state beforehand

it would also make sense to hear yuuji and megumi first thing before waking up in my dr, because I scripted that when they go in the school to get sukuna’s finger, I would be asleep in one of the offices (don’t ask) and will witness the whole thing

I think the way I got into the void is an actual method; I forgot the name of it but it might’ve been the phrase method, I’m not too sure

it also shows you don’t have to have a perfect mindset as I thought I can’t possibly get into the void until I do yoga nidra for a few days, so all you need is intention and an alternate state of consciousness

additional things (you can totally skip this if you want to)

after I got into the void state that day, I continued practicing the void state and I almost got into it at least 15 times, but instead of doing it via a lucid dream, I used the lullaby and distraction methods because I have a hard time lucid dreaming. every time I would be pulled into the void with these methods I would instantly think of my cr or get impatient and be immediately be pulled out, so I’m working on that and on how to lucid dream more often

I think I’m getting close into reaching the void again, because I’ve been working on meditation and started teaching my subconscious mind not to think of my cr while going into the void state.

the months of march and april were literally stagnant for me with no little to no success because I strongly believe I got the evil eye or something like that. at the end of february I went back to my home country (which is in eastern europe) to attend my cousin’s 18th birthday and I think I might have been cursed by one of the old ladies attending. I would always get the evil eye by them as a kid, but my grandma would usually remove it for me

my manifestations stopped and I couldn’t reach the void again but I thought it was because of work and uni related stress, but then it hit me it might be something else because I literally never had issues with my manifestations but suddenly I couldn’t manifest anything anymore, so I performed a cleanse and now I’m back again manifesting like it’s my job

a few nights ago I tried to get into the void, after like 8 minutes of meditation my body fell asleep while my mind was awake and I could’ve entered the void, but I sabotaged myself because I told myself I needed to go to sleep asap because I need to wake up in 3 hours for work so I moved around a bit and went to sleep

anyways, I’ll try to get into the void again and keep y’all updated. next month I go back to my home country where is peace and quiet so I think I’ll have a better time without stressing about uni, work or the noisy area I live in