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transmutationisms · 8 months

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I was reading your porn addiction post, and I just wondering what you consider addiction if not some sort of disease? I also think porn addiction and stuff in that vein is fake but I also can’t think that addiction is just people choosing to be that way even though they hate it. I say this as someone who was actually addicted to substances like I feel like there was something going on there that can’t be explained by the idea that addicts just choose to be like that. (I don’t think you think addicts just choose to be like that I just don’t really know any alternative schools of thought lol) I don’t mean this in an accusatory way I’m sorry if it comes off that way, I am genuinely curious what you think cause your posts are always so enlightening.

first of all you have to keep in mind that 'addiction' has no singular meaning. even if we confine ourselves to talking about psychoactive substances, 'addiction' can range from the 'classic' case of increasing, compulsive, self-destructive use, to cases where a person's usage may actually be stable in the long term but they're chemically dependent on the substance (think: the way doctors talk about chronic pain patients who are dependent on opioid painkillers; then compare to how they talk about psychiatric patients who are dependent on SSRIs. for example). you can get dx'd with a 'substance use disorder' purely on the basis of how much you take/consume, even if you don't feel it's causing impairment in your life, particularly if you let slip that someone else in your life has expressed concern or tried to stop you. race and class contribute to distinctions here as well, where certain people have leeway to be seen (even in a psychiatric setting!) as 'experimenting' with substances, or using them 'recreationally', where the same usage pattern in a person who's otherwise marginalised might be flagged as 'addictive' and in need of intervention. all of this gets even messier when psychiatrists and physicians try to justify applying discourses of 'addiction' to eating, gambling, sex, social media, and so forth. recall that 'addiction' in the roman republic and middle ages had contested legal and augural meanings that could be positive as well as negative, and that by the seventeenth century it was largely used as a reflexive verb with a predominantly positive meaning—as in, "we sincerely addict ourselves to almighty god" (thomas fuller, 1655) or, of plato, "he addicted himself to the discipline of pythagoras" (thomas hearne, 1698). it was not until the twentieth century that "addict" came to be widely used as a noun defining people who were passively suffering on a medical model.

i don't mean to be evasive here but to point out that asking "how do we define addiction besides a disease model?" presumes already that the disease model is the singular and inescapable way of understanding addiction in the first place—this is not true historically or presently. addiction is a muddled concept and has always involved moral discourses; attempts to present it as a 'pure' or 'objective' medico-scientific judgment are in fact recent and still unstable.

to the extent that it is useful to talk about addiction as a disease—that is, as a state of suffering that is imposed upon the sufferer, that is a disruption of a desired state of health and well-being—i think it is critical to keep in mind that such a disease is social as much as biological. you can start here by pointing out that substance use is often precipitated by the necessity of withstanding miserable life conditions (ranging from extreme poverty, domestic abuse, social marginalisation, &c, to the 'standard', inherently alienating and miserable conditions anyone endures in capitalist society). but there are other social factors that contribute to the presentation of substance use as compulsive, escalating, and self-endangering. eg, lack of a safe, steady supply is a huge factor here! when people are forced to rely on inconsistent, unregulated supplies to get high, this contributes greatly to drug 'binge' behaviours and endangers users. there is also the fact that drug users are often already marginalised (esp along lines of race, class, ability, &c) and are then further marginalised on the basis of being drug users. what would substance use look like in a society where using didn't relegate people to the social margins, or render them socially disposable? what if people had social supports, and weren't forced to toil away their entire lives at jobs that make them miserable for pay that's barely enough to live on? what sorts of patterns of substance use would we see then? so then, is it the drugs themselves that are the problem here, purely neurobiologically? or is there a larger story to tell about how people come to exist in such a state where substance use is increasingly hard for them to engage in with safeguards; where being a substance user causes them to lose whatever degree of social connection and support they may have had, which was often insufficient already; where they are often unable to integrate substance use into a full and connected life because they are told they must either give up enjoyment of a substance entirely, or be continually branded 'relapsing', 'non-compliant', 'dangerous', &c &c.....?

at the end of the day i don't think it's helpful or accurate to talk about addiction as a disease because it decontextualises drug use from all of these factors: why people do it, why it becomes harmful for some, why it's assumed we must simply 'stop' and 'resist' in order to 'get better'. disease explanations blame the substances themselves on a reductive bio-mechanical level (& again, this becomes especially untenable philosophically when we think at all about 'behavioural addictions'). the point here isn't to say that addicts are just blithely waltzing into addiction—or, indeed, to say that drug use is intrinsically a bad thing that should be avoided! it's a pretty typical feature of human existence that many of us enjoy consuming substances that alter our mental and physical states, and that's not inherently bad. when i push back against a disease model of addiction, i'm not invoking a model of personal responsibility or individual choice. i'm asking how we can understand drug use within a much broader social and historically contextualised frame, and how that can help people who are in many different states wrt drugs, from 'currently engaging in patterns of usage that feel compulsive and terrible' to 'never done a drug in their life'.

#drugs

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hoes4lino · 4 months

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A Love Letter I wish It Didn’t Exist 💌

A/N: I been doubting to post this, since this story is an adaptation on a real letter I made about my first love. Hope you guys enjoy! (This is also written in first person)

Genre: Romantic, First love, Angst, Suggestive

Word count: 5k

Reading Time: Approx 18 min

Pairing: Reader x Minho

Warnings: Mentions of substance, Reader can’t express emotions, some suggestive content nothing too explicit, happy ending? is as happy as real life can get.

Do you ever wish to fall in love? Hold someone’s hand in the cold breeze of autumn as the leaves fall. Be someone’s lover as the flowers bloom in spring. Be someone’s warmth during the freezing temperatures of winter? Be someone’s shadow on the strong sun rays of summer?

Yeah, well this doesn’t work for me.

Why you may ask, Ever since I was a child I was spoiled with love from my family and friends, growing up I wondered what I did in my past life to deserve such love.

As I went through my teens I started to despise such attention, why? I wish I knew. Growing up I didn’t have any crushes at all, just people I admired. I would often hear my friends babble about boys, fantasies I wished I never heard, and rant about their love life.

Though I never understood why, why couldn’t I be like them? Feel such a desire to love someone and have that feeling reciprocated.

Faking crushes became part of my life during middle school and high school, I felt like an outcast whenever my friends spoke about love, they were all experienced, yet I barely knew how to love myself.

I started dating a boy, not because I was in love but because I felt I had to, everyone I knew was experienced, yet I kept turning down boys.

I craved to get that tingly feeling my friends always talked about. I wanted to know what was the big deal about, and why people found it so addictive.

What is wrong with me?

This is the phrase that would haunt my mind every time I stared at couples walking on the cold breeze of autumn. ———

My high school years felt like something experimental, I went to parties, drank alcohol, did some weed, and hooked up… not because I was into those things but because I wanted to feel. I wanted to care about something. Yet I never felt anything but regret.

Why can’t I express my emotions? I know they are there. It’s as if they are locked up in a box inside of me.

On the first day of college, I was in a room filled with strangers, not a single familiar face, I felt like an outcast. Everyone is sitting next to someone but me.

As I sat at the back of the class next to a window, my eyes followed the leaves that fell from the trees announcing the beginning of fall.

My mind drifted into a peaceful scenario, everyone’s voices being muted by my brain as I took in such a beautiful scene. My chest felt heavy with emptiness, I would usually have a friend to share this moment with, yet here I sat alone.

I must have been too distracted cause I didn’t notice when he sat next to me, my body slightly jumping at the sudden appearance of the boy who sat next to me.

He was rather handsome, sharp nose, cat-like eyes, dark brown hair, and plump lips. He didn’t say a word though I know he must have felt my eyes on him, maybe he was trying to not embarrass me or maybe he was waiting for me to say something, yet I didn’t.

Once I was done staring I went back to stare at my window, noticing him shifting to look at it too, I couldn’t help but feel some warmth.

Why did I feel like that? He is just a stranger looking at the window… but why out of all these strangers he somehow make me feel at ease?

Freshmen year of college passed by, and I didn’t talk to this man, god knows what’s his name, but for some reason, he felt familiar, as if we had some type of bond. Maybe I’m crazy.

Our interactions that year went from walking to class together to sharing a couple of words when needed during class, it wasn’t until the last marking period that I realized I spent most of my time with him yet we were never close enough.

I felt weird. It felt weird.

Like imagine spending 70% of your day with the same guy for an entire school year and yet you don’t know his name or talk to him at all.

What’s crazier to me is that I feel like I got to know him through that silence… is this feeling what my friends call delusional? Is this real at all? Is it all my head? Can he feel it too?

Summer depression hit me like a truck, I’m not a sad person why do I feel this way? Empty… it’s like my body is craving something yet I don’t know what. I started getting frustrated, I thought spending time with friends and family would fix it, yet it didn’t… I’m missing a part… something.

During summer I went to a bunch of places, all of them filled with hundreds of people, yet my mind seemed to look for one each time… is it… him? ———

Sophomore year of college… I was too excited for my liking, I am usually terrified of new school years, afraid for what awaits me, but today my heart seems to beat faster than usual and it's not because I am nervous, it feels as if I'm waiting for something and I can’t wait to see it.

My day went by pretty fast, I went to my first two classes my heart filling with disappointment each time I scanned the room. At that moment I didn’t exactly know what I was looking for, I never really felt that way before.

The cold breeze was hitting my face as I sat in my business class, my mind focused on whatever I was working on.

“Is this seat taken?”

His voice sent shivers down my body, and my ears immediately recognized his soothing voice.

I look up to glare at him, the breeze coming from the window slightly moving his hair. I could feel my heart beating fast, my tummy doing backflips in excitement… I felt happy… but why?

“No, you can have it” I could feel my voice trembling as I spoke. As soon as he sat down I could only think of one thing.

Should I talk to him? What if I annoy him?

These thoughts consumed my head until the slight shift of his gaze moved toward me, my head immediately snapped to look at him.

“It's been a while,” He said softly with a thin smile on his face, I am not quite sure how I looked at that moment but I felt so self-conscious as I could see his eyes looking at me.

I nodded in response not quite sure what to say to that, I had a million thoughts running through my head, why do I feel this way around him?

“Minho” He continued, it must have been the way my eyes blinked in confusion as he slightly laughed “I figured you didn’t know my name, since we never really introduced ourselves last year” He explained. I wish the earth could eat me whole at this moment, I’m being too awkward. Say something y/n. SAY SOMETHING.

“uh oh,” I chuckled nervously, jesus christ why do I feel like imma puke right here “I’m y/n” I smiled, my gaze moving back to my computer. I was not too fond of the way I was feeling, It felt unknown and that scared me a lot.

Like why am I craving his attention but at the same time I wished he could disappear and leave me alone?

From that day on we became good friends, We would often greet each other and have casual conversations during class.

How much I loved your attention Lee Minho, yet you were clueless about it. If I had to name something I loved about him, I would stay and talk for hours.

“Y/n you are clearly in love” Those words repeated over and over in my head as my friend's voice muffled in the background. Love? “Y/n?” Is this how love feels like? “Y/N!”

I turn to look at my friend as she nudged my shoulder “All you talk about recently is about that damn boy, maybe you are finally catching feelings”

That night I stared at my ceiling, my eyes feeling heavy. Even when I was half asleep I would think of him. It wasn’t until I was almost asleep that I realized I was smiling hard at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.

I quickly sat on my bed, the darkness of my room surrounding me. Is this what love feels like? On one side I felt warm, but on the other side, I felt cold and afraid… what if he doesn’t like me? what if he does? Am I confused? Do I like him? Why him out of everyone? Why now and not before?

The next day I was so excited to see him, waking up a little earlier than usual to look good for him. I made my way through the lengthy hallways of our college when I spotted him. I felt nervous as I walked up to him, my heart falling to my stomach as I spotted him next to this beautiful girl.

She had long black straight hair, she was short and had a fit body, her curves were out of this world… and her face… don’t get me started.

I turned around with heavy feet, immediately searching for a bathroom.

I locked myself into a stall, it was 8:36 am.

Rule #3 don’t cry. Ever since I was a child I learned that crying doesn’t solve anything and that crying makes things worse, therefore I always hold my tears no matter how big the urge to cry.

In all my years of living, I never felt such an urge to cry as I did at that moment. I sat on the toilet concentrating on my breathing. The number of thoughts filling my mind was suffocating, I needed fresh air. Why do I feel like this? Why does my heart feel so heavy?

I left the stall to go to my business class, seeing him that day felt different, I was mad at him for some reason. Why? Is it because of the girl? He can have friends, is not like we are something, I remind myself.

That day I rushed to get home, the intrigue to know who this girl was, eating me alive.

I should have stayed curious.

Jasmine Kim, president of the architecture club, Asian student union, business manager of the robotics club, Academic weapon, and athletic.

How come have I never seen her before?

“ouuuu seems someone is jealous” My friend teased me through the phone, making me even more mad. I called her seeking help not to be made fun of. Ever since I did an FBI-type research on this girl I can’t help but compare myself to her. I never knew how to love myself, and this… this brought me to my lowest.

I hate feeling this way. I wouldn't say I like it. But no matter how mad I was, I couldn’t hate him.

Sophomore year went flying by, Minho seemed to grow close to Jasmine, and as much I wish I could say that didn’t affect me… it did. I decided to distance myself, after all, it was all a one-sided thing and it was for my well-being… right?

He had no clue about my feelings, so it wouldn’t matter if I suddenly disappeared from his life.

I felt selfish during this time, selfish of the way I treated him, I would ignore him during class or even his texts and he wouldn’t know why. He didn’t deserve this treatment, he didn’t deserve to be affected by my own emotions. ———

It’s the last summer days of 2023. Junior year started and it feels like it’s about to end. This year I haven’t seen Minho at all, my heart dies to see him but we have no classes together and my tight schedule keeps me busy from thinking of him.

“Remember Minho, The guy you had a crush on” My friend spoke on the the phone as I was too concentrated doing homework “What about him” I asked as I felt a knot forming in my stomach. I hated the way his name could get under my skin.

“He just joined my division in the robotics club and let me tell you that man is a complete dickhead” For some reason I felt the urge to fight back, defend him, and ask for an explanation; but I was too embarrassed for feeling this way I ignored her words “He is a man after all” Is all I managed to say, the curiosity eating me alive as I tried to not seem interested on what he could do to upset my friend.

After I found out about him being on the robotics club, I found myself going to the club often, I wasn’t part of it but I would make excuses to go and get glimpses of him.

The way he looked with his goggles on and thin layers of sweat on his skin. That man was dreamy no matter what he did.

No matter what I did to forget him, he would always be on my mind. In every room with hundreds of people, he would be the one I would look for.

“Excuse me” I raised my gaze to be met with a blond guy, he was the opposite of Minho, blond hair, a soft innocent face, freckles, and light brown eyes.

He was indeed pretty, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in knowing who this man was “I’m Felix” He said cheerfully.

I couldn’t help but compare him with Minho, unlike Minho he was friendly and straightforward “I’ve seen you around and I would like to get to know you”

To this day I feel so selfish for what I did. I thought that having someone's attention would make me forget you, yet you would still live rent-free on my head 24/7. I would often catch myself thinking about you. How was your day? Why do you look tired? Did you eat anything?

How much I wished I could get you out of my mind Lee Minho.

Putting him to the side, I and Felix spent a lot of time together, we had an art history class together, so we often met at the library to finish our projects.

“Would you like to go out for some beers with me and my friends?”

How much I wish I would of said no that day, maybe, just maybe that would have changed the track of things now. ———

I showed up, wearing my favorite cargo pants and a cute lace top, I had my favorite jewelry on and I went for a half-up hairstyle. I didn’t wanna go full-on dress up but I wanted to look classy and comfy at the same time.

How much I wish I would have worn something else.

I could feel my heart dropping to my stomach as the first person I spotted was him.

There are at least 100 people in this bar, yet there he is, sitting under the dim neon lights of the bar, he is wearing a full-on black outfit, his shirt unbuttoned showing a bit of his chest.

Talk about a man whore.

I jolt as I feel the warmth of a hand on my waist, turning around to be met with Felix. To this day I remember all this crystal clear, detail to detail.

I could tell he already had a couple of shots by the way he would slur his words.

“This is my homie Minho” He patted his back as he introduced me to him “We have known each other since high school, he can be our best man at our wedding”

I tried my best to not scoff at his words, wedding? We not even dating. I can tell Minho didn’t like this comment either by the way his posture became stiff and sat properly.

“Damn Felix, already feeling drunk,” He said in a tone that I can’t decipher to this day. It sounded annoyed but at the same time playful.

Minho stood from his chair and let Felix take it, he ordered him another drink and took me to another table.

“So you and Felix huh?” He sounded annoyed. At that moment I felt like I had to give him an explanation “We are not dating” I said briefly, why did I say that? That’s not his business.

“I see,” he said shortly. I remember the way my heart would pound, my hands were sweaty and I could feel my stomach doing backflips. I have never been so nervous around him till this day.

Maybe it was because it was our first time alone outside of school hours… or the shot of tequila I had was hitting.

As we both sat at a table away from our friends I could feel the way his eyes would travel around my body, I felt self-conscious.

The way his eyes would burn my skin is a feeling I miss with my whole heart. The chokehold you have on me Lee Minho.

“I love your necklace” He leaned to take a better look, his hand hesitating to grab the little Swarovski swan that hung on my neck.

His breath tickled my neck and I could feel myself shiver. I'm not sure if he was doing this on purpose but he was driving me crazy.

“Thank you, It’s my first ever expensive necklace,” I said as I tried to ignore the warmth of his breath on my neck “I bought it for myself on my birthday” I smiled as his gaze moved to look at my eyes.

“You gifted it to yourself?” I nodded “It’s expensive, I didn’t expect someone else to get it for me” I’m not sure if I was tripping but by the look on his face I could tell he wasn’t pleased with my answer.

His eyes looked at me with a million expressions written in them, the soft neon lights of the bar shone like a galaxy in them.

“I would treat you like a princess if you were mine”

I hate you.

How can you say that to me and then leave Lee Minho?

To this day I can hear your voice saying those words to me at night. It’s like if you engraved it on my brain so that every time I'm about to go to sleep I can hear it.

After he told me those words, I felt him getting closer, his hand on my hand as his eyes begged me for permission.

“May I?” His voice was as soft as the singing of an angel. Next thing I remember his plump lips were against mine. It was a sincere kiss.

There was no way he liked me back… I mean… I saw the way he treated Jasmine. This had to be a sick joke. I gently pushed him away, his face pouting as my lips left his.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped” He backed away, as he was getting ready to leave. I panicked. I didn’t want him to leave.

I grabbed his wrist out of instinct “What’s your relationship with Jasmine?” My impulsive thoughts got the best of me. He looked at me with a puzzled look “Jasmine?” He chuckled.

“Answer me,” I said coldly, no expression on my face. I was trying to not crack in front of him. I wanted to hear the answer I craved for months.

“She is a mutual childhood friend, she is captain of my robotics subdivision, so we keep in contact” His words lingered in the air as I tried to fit the pieces together in my brain.

Does that mean he likes me? Why he kissed me?

“Is that why you pulled away?” He asked softly as if he was trying not to scare me away. On the other hand, I was embarrassed, I didn’t have the guts to say yes so I simply nodded.

He chuckled one more time.

If he only knew how much I adored his laugh, the way it would fill my heart with joy. His laugh was like listening to my favorite song for the first time. How much I miss it.

He sat down again and leaned closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he stared at me with soft eyes. How much I wanted to kill him in that moment, why would he ever look at me with such a gaze?

“That was my first kiss” My world stopped. What? No way… he was playing games with me.

Before I could even talk he stood up from his chair and offered me a hand.

“Would you dance with me?”

That night we danced under the neon lights of the bar, without a single worry of the world. I was shy but with him, I felt like the most confident person in the room.

This was the beginning of an intoxicating relationship. ———

Maybe our story didn’t last long but the time we spent together is something I will treasure my whole life.

Dating Minho was like walking by the shore late at night. It was peaceful, too good to be true. I was too drunk on his love I wished it would never fade away.

I'm grateful for the amazing experience he gave me those years we dated. I learned to love, but most importantly I learned to love myself.

“You look beautiful” I opened my eyes to see him laying next to me, eyes in awe as he moved my hair away from my face. “Ur lying” I giggled trying to cover myself from his gaze. It was 8am, this man was definitely blind in love if he thought I looked beautiful in the morning.

That day something felt off, he was not the type to speak his mind, he talked through gestures not words. Yet today he was too talkative. Complimented me every chance he got.

It was around 7pm, he was in the kitchen cooking dinner while I was in our bed scrolling through TikTok mindlessly. I heard a notification coming off from his phone. Im not the type to check my boyfriend’s phone but the notifications weren’t stopping.

I stood up to pick it up from his desk and go leave it to him, whoever was texting definitely had something to say; however as I saw who was texting him, I couldn’t help myself but take a peek.

‘Minho you need to tell her now’

‘Don’t make this harder for yourself’

‘Think about her happiness’

I was puzzled as I read the texts, it was Jasmine who was sending them… what she meant by that… I was startle when he called me name “y/n dinner is ready”

I placed his phone down. Anxiety consuming me, tears threatening to fall, thoughts suffocating my mind.

As I sat in the dining table I contemplated whether I should confront him or not, he looked happy. What was he hiding.

“If someone ever asked me what I love the most about you” His words brought me back from my thoughts. I looked at him, my face had no expression, I didn’t know how to feel. “I would say your eyes” I could see the way his face lit as he spoke about me, his cheeks flushing as he giggled like a teenage girl in love.

I couldn’t help but smile, this was something I loved about him, he always knew how to make me smile. “What is this compliment for?” I knew he had something to say, I looked directly into his eyes, trying to make him crack. Reveal his secret.

“Nothing special, I have always loved your eyes but I was too shy to say it” He said vaguely while he ate his pasta “And why say it now?” I never took my eyes off him, I saw the way his eyes looked at me nervously, he was definitely hiding something.

He didn’t answer my question, he just smiled “Would you love me even if we were kilometers far away?” His tone was serious, I felt shivers running down my spine as I felt the coldness from the question.

“Of course I would silly, why?” I said trying to kill the tension that suddenly sparked in the room. He remained quiet but then he shook it off and offered me a smile, though there was something off about it.

We were preparing to go to bed, I was already changed into my nightgown while I brushed my teeth. Minho was taking a quick shower before bed, although he was taking longer than usual, so I decided to wait for him in bed.

About an hour had passed my eyes felt heavy, debating whether I should check on him or try to sleep, His behavior today kept worrying me, he was acting weird and he wasn’t getting off the shower. I didn’t like the tension that has been lingering since dinner.

I entered the bathroom, the shower was still on, the hot water causing the mirror to fog “Honey?” I said softly, the water turning off at the sound of my voice. He took his towel and dry himself vaguely, wrapping it around his waist.

He stood in front of me, hair wet, eyes glossy and lips parted. Im not quite sure if it was steam trapped in the bathroom or his breath taking appearance that made it hard to breathe.

Without notice he kissed my lips, his body pushing me towards the counter, I gasped as he picked me up so I would sat on the counter, he kept kissing me, so desperate so passionate. Something was off.

Minho was the type to take things slow yet today he was kissing me like it was his last time. That’s when my stomach dropped, the texts flashed in my head, his glossy eyes, the long shower, his question during dinner.

He was leaving me.

I placed my hands on his shoulder, gently pushing him, my heart shattering into pieces as I saw his tears rolling down his cheeks. I was quiet. Should I say something? Should I let him talk first?

He just stood in front of me, his gaze on my chest. I took a deep breath, a breath that held back my emotions, I know Minho and the last thing he would want to see is me crying for him.

I gently placed a hand on his cheek, ever so lightly like I was touching his fragile soul, and slowly I leaned to kiss his lips.

“I love you” I muttered in his lips, his hands moving to wrap me into a tight hug. This was the first time in three years of our relationship I ever said ‘I love you’ ———

The next morning I was cradled in his arms, my fingertips gently rubbing the scratch marks I left from last night.

I looked up to see him in a peaceful slumber. I looked at his plump lips I was busy kissing last night, I heard his stable heartbeat that brought peace to my mind, and I felt his warm skin touching mine. I wish I could capture all this in time. In all our years of knowing each other, that day felt like we truly got to know each other.

“I’m leaving to study abroad” My heart stopped. His words repeated in my head, tears threatening to fall “I’ll go wherever you go” My body betrayed me as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Y/N” He hugged me as I tried to push him away “Your life is here, you can’t just abandon everything for me” He started crying as he hugged me tighter. I kept fighting back I wanted to push him away and look him in the eyes.

“You are my everything Minho” I screamed into his chest, my words being muffled. I could hear his heart-stopping, and that’s when I realized he was equally heartbroken as me.

I stopped fighting to hug him back, breaking into an inconsolable crying, he cried with me, our bodies dropping to the floor as we never separated from each other.

I had to let go. ———

A year passed after our break up, our memories playing vividly every time I walked by our favorite restaurant or the park he took me on our first date.

It was a cold day in the fall of 2023, I was making my way into the subway. I was listening to our shared playlist. I always listen to it when I have a bad day, it brings me comfort, and our memories warm my heart.

That’s when I saw him. My eyes must have been playing with my heart, I didn’t have time to process it when I found myself running towards him.

“Minho..” I said shyly, I hadn’t seen him in a year and now he dared to appear. His expression when he saw me copied mine. We were both equally stunned to see each other.

He hugged me without saying a single word, though I’m not surprised he spoke through actions, not words.

However, this is not a Disney fairytale where everything has a happy ending. We caught up with each other’s life, we had a great time together, and our connection didn’t fade away although we spent a year with no communication; however, it was time to say goodbye again.

It’s up to fate if our future is meant to be together, but something we both left clear is that we will always love each other.

So in conclusion. Lee Minho I hate you for stealing my heart but at the same time the love I profound you is a light in my heart that will never turn off no matter what the Universe has planned for us.

A love letter I wish it didn’t exist.

The end

A/N: The amount of tears I shed writing this is astonishing- anyway hope y’all liked it, the timeline in this is very inaccurate and my brain kept messing up, so if something looks off please tell me. Thank you <3

#lee know #lino zone #lee know fluff #lee minho x reader #lee know fanfic #minho x reader #skz fluff #lee know angst #lee know smut #minho angst #minho fluff #stray kids imagine #lee know imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff

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stranger-rants · 1 year

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There are several things that make me think The Duffers are covert conservatives… and I’m not saying this just to like… insult them.

There’s the obvious bias towards The Wheeler family who are the quintessential upper middle class family. There’s the fact that Steve got another chance at “redemption,” while Billy did not - the main thing separating them being class. There’s the positioning of Russians as a political villain, and the explicitly pro-Capitalism message of the third season. You could say that this is all just part of the 80s nostalgia, but these things are repeatedly endorsed by the hero characters (and their families).

The Wheelers are explicitly pro-Reagan and Karen not only views Thatcher as an empowered woman, but uses her as inspiration to support her own daughter’s empowerment. This juxtaposed with Karen “reclaiming” her sexuality by exploiting a teenage boy really represents a very conservative / Republican slant to “feminism” which marries female empowerment with the exploitation, oppression, and disregard for others. This carries over with Nancy who doesn’t understand her class privilege over Jonathan.

Then there’s the casual callousness displayed by The Duffers themselves. The way they wanted an adult actor to scream racial slurs at their young black actor. The way they teased their child actors about kissing. The way they make fun of another child actor’s weight. The way they threw in a fat insult knowing Dacre’s own body issues and his expressed desire not to say it. Then there’s the flippant disrespect and disregard for Holocaust sites! It’s this kind of insensitivity that is pervasive in conservative politics that makes me wonder…

They’re also obsessed with comparing their experiences with being bullied as “nerds” to actual, systemic oppression. In doing so, they fail to truly understand and empathize with people marginalized by sexism, racism, homophobia, and even things like neglect and abuse. They make these people the villains and/or “too flawed” or “too traumatized” to survive. It’s this survival of the fittest mentality (e.g. upper middle class, white, able bodied, neurotypical, etc.) that also tips me off to their political views.

Finally, Stranger Things is a commercial success. It became a commercial success not just through quality storytelling, but through all of the endorsements they received and collaborations they get to do. It is about money for them. It’s not about the story anymore. I don’t begrudge creators aiming to make money, as it is their job. However, the quality of their writing has deteriorated while the money they’ve been making has increased exponentially. It just screams Greed and obsession with Wealth.

Either they were always like this, or they became like this. I just can’t stand people praising them for any of their decisions anymore. Maybe they vote conservatively. Maybe they don’t, but they act like they do.

#fuck the duffers #st critical #they really sold their soul huh

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loveregrown · 1 month

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Hi... ramble about switch that occurred like 2 nights ago because I am so happy I finally got Tsumugi’s FS2...

Uglycute-look of him in his unbloomed that I love aside (he’s making cupcakes! To share with those he loves! And smiling at you and licking the cream off of his fingers! Uwah…! He's so strange looking but I love that about him) the bloomed is such the perfect embodiment of him.

His FS1 is too, not to mention how good the story itself was it kills me to think about all the important information spilled & the funny moments only for it to turn gut wrenching and the scene with Natsume where he describes their meeting as fate (and how badly he wanted to see Tsumugi’s feature scout was cute, actually.) or how it matches Wataru’s FS2 which I’ve spoken of before and is an unmoving belief of mine that sickens me to the core, or the ex-fine look of it with just how his hair seems shorter from the front due to his ribbon, & the elegance of his attire, and how the scr only gives it an even more similar look, though quite frankly, not only do I think the original colors are more appealing the fact the blue & the white are inverted only adds more meaning to it I believe.

He is going back to his roots, reclaiming the bluebird symbol for his own despite having once been in a cage. He is out. He couldn’t bring happiness to who he was meant to, but goodness will he try, for others. And perhaps even for himself. I don’t need to explain why his FS1 is beautiful (more than I have in the past) because it just is, it is so very pretty and has such clever imagery for those with eyes to see. He looks so free. Asking Anzu if he could put white feathers was so cute. It makes me so happy to look at… so happy.

The unbloomed is so ero & how can he manage to convey that while being fully clothed. What the hell. The way his blanket falls off of him makes me want to ask him to cover up further, as Leon vocalized before me, but let’s not talk about that right now. Him getting his much-needed rest after a three day all-nighter & Sora putting a blanket on him the way Tsumugi would for anyone else, known to carry blankets on him in the past, is way too wonderful… he looks so kind & warm & beautiful to the point I could just cry… the lighting and his expression and how he’s in the middle of putting his glasses back on, his lucky item! Uuu.

In the bloomed version he looks so graceful, as he tends to be—his movements are elegant and languid, even now in the more energetic, sporty unit that he belongs to. Designed to have a polite, high-class impression, down to his sinewy hands just as designers had described him as very purposefully having. He looks so happy to be alive in spite of everything that may contradict that. Because he really is so happy to have been born as he said after the war, and has such a desire to share that same happiness with others, something he is achieving through finding a home within switch & new dimension. It’s peak Tsumugi in every form, from the colors & brightness, to that grace of his… the switch-like colors in the bg in spite of his exfine-ful nature. I could go on forever & ever & ever about how perfect it is to me, & it would never be enough.

But then there’s his FS2… it’s so perfect as well. He looks so so beautiful, but that aside, it’s like two sides of the same coin; it was so clever despite also being a no-brainer to have made them day & night, matching Bluebird Humming & Dozing Milky Way (or however they will choose to localize/translate it) to a T just look at them. Goodness. The Saturn imagery that drove me wild upon release!!! As I stated back then, most sources would tell me that the planet has the energy of personal responsibility, and karma, and it's known as the god of time (and as I will discuss, time is a big theme in Switch even represented through each individual member and that seems especially important when it comes to Tsumugi for some reason. Aaahh.)

Everything it is meant to represent according to each different source I’ve read from, it’s all too fitting… of obligation, of making up for things, of reminding every action has a consequence and how it teaches us this through tough love, to hand us hardships, although frankly far too many in Tsumugi’s case but rather than learning from them he only gained a skewed sense of reality and learned passivity (or helplessness, even. As in learned helplessness, like from the studies with the dogs.) prior to his sense of awakening after the war. Of actually learning and developing the faith to move forward and detach energetically from the path, something that isn’t as simple as positive affirmations but due to the fact we only have two choices: break under the pressure or develop the faith to carry on. To simply believe. “Saturn represents Time and Matter. The limitation of undefined things, bringing concepts to reality, spirit to body, thoughts to words, life to death.” This definition is as vague as Tsumugi’s self once was, in my opinion. It’s also been stated to represent structure, law, discipline; Tsumugi has many philosophies he follows almost as though it is his very own religion, or something programmed into him, particularly his utilitarianism. There is also responsibility, something he is learning to have, as well as obligation & ambition. I’ve also seen it be connected to the concepts of limitation and restriction, commitment. Our need for limitations and self-control… something we need to succeed in our goals. Something Tsumugi needs, to not throw himself and others away for the sake of his goals or to be a part of something greater, too.

But simply as a card due to its visuals with the galaxy motifs which are all too common with switch (galaxy destiny, pleiades night.) & the addition of magic, it’s the peak of Tsumugi as a member of switch, in comparison to what I’ve mentioned before of the latter and how it is simultaneously aligned with his past & his renewed self, what with the clock in the background reminiscent of the ever so constant, recurring theme of time, and the passage of it, interwoven within switch.

None of what I'm about to mention is anything new, per say. But it's still things I find interesting regardless. Switch are past, present, future, leaving behind the painful past (despite holding onto so many regrets & grudges they are trying their hardest to leave behind, having been shaped by all the horror they experienced — even applying to Sora, with his isolated & lonesome youth.) yet also learning from it, focusing on the present to build a path towards the future, one where no blood has to be shed. Switch are child, teenager, adult—all while reminding you that you never have to let go of that whimsy of yours or magic of the kind they wish to grace the world with, as long as you aren’t using it as a way to detach yourself from reality altogether when there is happiness to be found in the world, and they know this because they have found it in themselves, with each other, and that’s why they want to bring it to you too.

About switch as a child, teenager & adult metaphor part to avoid misinterpretation of my words that ended up in more of a ramble… not even a complete explanation, but still. It’s not literally, but they are used as metaphors for such & tend to play into it both in their writing & their designs—the most obvious being their heights & actual ages themselves, despite being so close in age. Sora has a childish sense of whimsy & kindness, Natsume has the immaturity of a preteen or teenager, the sharpness of one (and previously the chuunibyou to match) and at the end of Wonder Game, he wonders if he’s grown up at all compared to the seniors who attempted to protect and care for him all this time. Tsumugi has a complex over his age, likely in part due to how much of his life he feels he has wasted, & how quick he was forced to grow up, as well as his care-taking nature despite his own lack of care, while merely being seventeen back in the basic era & 18-going-on 19 today. It’s also evident in their unit outfit designs, with Sora having no sleeves & shorts, while Tsumugi shows off a more mature image having pants & long sleeves, and Natsume is in between, with pants but sleeveless shirts to go with it. Sora has quite the emotional tact despite his playful air, more so than the other two who are always stuck in their own worlds, while also having an occasional brattiness. This is so unrelated to the thread or even the original point I was trying to explain, but I love them so much...

Adding onto that, switch are also sunrise or sunset, day, midnight… I am not the first to point it out, exactly. But it even shows in their colour palettes. I can’t make that point more evident than their FS2s do for me! And don’t they look so perfect together at that? It’s all too satisfying… & they are all reaching out towards the viewer. I’ve mentioned that in a prior post! There’s something kind of sinister about Natsume’s, but you feel like you can trust him, in a way? Also, Sora’s FS2 is one of the best cards in the game in my opinion. (Tsumugi’s is too, partly due to bias, although Natsume’s is very pretty I can’t decide if I’d put him up there too… it’s also kind of funny how similar he is to the bride Natsume card’s outfit and color scheme. Decided to give JP only players something similar, but he’ll never be him I fear… still so pretty in full CG despite not liking the card itself that much. Like wowww.)

According to wikipedia, “night is often associated with danger and evil” (something Tsumugi has been shown to be capable of), “because of the psychological connection of night's all-encompassing darkness to the fear of the unknown and darkness's hindrance of a major sensory system (the sense of sight). Nighttime is naturally associated with vulnerability and danger for human physical survival”. Humanity & what one needs to do to survive in society is something that Tsumugi often mentions, unwarrantedly so. A website said that in dreams, “the darkness of the night symbolizes the unknown and can create a sense of anticipation or unease. It can also represent a time of rest and relaxation, offering a feeling of peace and tranquility.” This is a good way to represent the duality of Tsumugi (his gap moe, one can say), someone so very eerie, capable of cruelty to a sinister degree, all with a smile on his face. And yet he is capable of so much love, of warmth. He may not allow himself to relax, but I am sure he would love to. Especially if he could drag someone else into it. For the darkness to not only be something that evokes fear, but for it to be a comforting blanket. To see the twinkle of stars in the night sky, and know you are not alone. To see the vast space and not feel helpless & small & meaningless, but grateful to be a part of it. Of something. Of anything.

Tsumugi, topically poignant enough, mentioned that his life had felt like walking through a pitch black night until his precious partners (exfine, switch) lit up the road under his feet, as well as his future. He said he wanted to light something in the same way. To help someone, to be someone’s dawn. It’s heart-wrenching, his motivations. I believe he truly can become that light, although, to me, there is beauty to be found in the night. You can see the stars and such beautiful colors and even the milky way so much more clearly.

Nighttime isn’t so scary when you aren’t alone. When you are in the embrace of someone you love in the comfort of your room and feel more safe and alive than you’ve ever been, even in the darkness. Tsumugi also makes me think of the little glow in the dark stars people put on their walls and ceilings, or nice smelling colorful candles, or the lamp I was gifted by my mom, one that was made out of wood and had little drawers & cutouts inside of the lampshade…? I’m unsure how to describe it but it would spin & it looked pretty & it’d have cute shapes on the walls and stuff.

Tsumugi’s eyes are the stars. According to another website, “stars since ancient times are described as forever, hope, destiny, heaven and freedom. They have also for us people great importance and we believe that falling stars make our wishes. Life as we know would not be possible without the heat and light of the sun.” Stars are always there, even during the day, where one cannot see them. Just as happiness can always be found even if you can’t quite see it yet. It will come, just as there will never be a day where night doesn’t.

In dreams, seeing a galaxy or it being a part of it can symbolize “aspirations and the patterns of tomorrow you are shaping through your beliefs. If you meet individuals from another galaxy, you are awakening to your unrecognized potential. The side of you that makes you different from others is being explored.” Tsumugi awakens to his unrecognized potential by being reborn through his relationship with Natsume; experiencing love & pain for the very first time, not physical as he pretends to, but emotional. And unrelatedly, but something I was reminded of with that last point, he sees potential in and is finally learning to appreciate all sides of his unit mates, including their negative emotions. He wants to see all of it rather than tuck it away the way he used to and would have encouraged them to if he was the same Tsumugi he once was, because it was all he knew. Tsumugi is chasing tomorrow, and wants his dear friends to be there with him. Wants to see the good and the bad that will come from it, and love them anyway, no longer pretend it is not there, or find himself unable to see it all together, in spite of his lack of tact.

“Throughout history, the sun symbol has remained a powerful and universal representation of life, energy, and spirituality. Its presence in various cultures and belief systems showcases its enduring significance as a symbol of hope, renewal, and divinity.” “The sun represents life but it's also known to typify energy, power, positivity, and clarity. The sun is a natural force that's outside of our control, but it also illuminates the world around us, helps living creatures navigate the planet, and sustains many essential ecosystems.” This is so, so, so very fitting imagery to attribute to Sora! He is described, in canon (even in card names,) as Switch’s hope. Switch’s guiding light. It also fits into how there's always another day, and that fact alone can bring one hope when all is doomed. He's switch's very own angel, their saving grace. He is also very much a bundle of energy, emanating brightness and overall splendour. His inviting nature and how easy to approach he is being as warm as it, like a ray of sunlight to bask in—something comforting, something that does not burn. Unbridled passion in youth and as stated prior, this youth seems to be very intentional within his writing. The sun is also associated with intuition and emotional depth, which I think is fitting for Sora!

“Sunrises are defined as time in the morning when the sun appears, or full daylight arrives. The sunrise symbolizes birth, growth, new beginnings of all kinds, and resurrection. Every sunrise gives you a new beginning and new ending.” Natsume was who brought Tsumugi, or at least what culminated, his rebirth, his new beginning. And he will be there at the very end, as per their promise—their contract, as Tsumugi states. (He doesn’t know how evil that made me. To bring back the same language used in the friendship that tore him apart, to hold the same devotion he had for him with Natsume; to promise to hold him so he won’t break the way he does in grand slam.) Natsume also put an end to the false reality he attempted to cling to, once he came to a resolve; essentially, his chuuni sacrifice as I’ve mentioned in a prior post!

Natsume’s eyes being a warm yellow, compared to Tsumugi’s paler, more golden yellow, like the light from the sun… the sun brings life. Just as he has. I don’t mean to tie everything to Tsumugi, but they are interwoven, just like the strands of hair Tsumugi wished to tie together. Perhaps we can also take into account the way the sun is capable of warmth and of burning you, too. That if you stare for too long, it’ll hurt you.

It hurts him too. He doesn’t want you to stare. He doesn’t want you to see what’s inside.

I’ve always loved how Natsume & Tsumugi’s eyes are golden, but in entirely different hues. It reminds me of how both regarding their childhood and troubles, despite being opposites at a first glance or with little knowledge about them, how similar they are while also being different becomes more obvious. And then, Sora has golden locks to match. The green in his hair despite them being made to represent the primary colours which is also so wonderful adds to him as the embodiment of switch as a whole since it is the same neon green as their theme colour, I would say he is the personification of what their unit represents, so it’s only fitting. The one carrying the unit on his back, in a sense. He is what holds them together; the glue that seeps into the cracks. It doesn’t mean he isn’t deserving of love and care, they really wish they could give it all to him, all the love in the world & more. They may have failed at it, leading to Natsume’s self harm outburst & Tsumugi comparing himself to his own mother, something he is desperate to never become as he slowly realizes that it wasn’t right, the things she did to him. How nobody deserves that; even if he still believes he did. But they will try again, and again. Sora makes perfect sense as their manager. Sora is who drags them out of them… just like they dragged him out of the darkness with their love and nurturing. They were his guiding light, and now he is theirs, they could not live functionally (though, arguably, Tsumugi lives in barely functional manner.) without each other… oh!!! No member of Switch is unimportant!!! Without one, they will all fall apart, like pillars holding up their very own future! (ノ_＜。)

I wasn’t necessarily trying to say anything or make any points. Just thinking aloud, or thinking as I wrote, is all. I loge Tumugi. I love switch.

#❀#espost

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amateur-heretic · 7 months

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Innocent Aspiration (I)

What is It?

Innocent Aspiration is the Personal Attunement aspiration. As such it has the qualities of the Attunement Aspirations of a soft responsivity, a focus on attracting towards oneself what it deems valuable, and a strong sensitivity towards latent, delicate and idealistic matters. As a Personal Aspiration Innocent shares with Playful aspiration a focus on the agency and priorities centered on oneself in the here and now. This combination leads to Innocent Aspiration embodying a sort of guileless and pure idealism, pouty passive softness, dewy-eyed wonder, and fragile yielding needy delicacy.

How it Presents As Part of Whole Self

Innocent Aspiration is a vital foundation for being a whole person. In it lies one’s sense of soft inner aliveness, and the ability to relate to others from that place of vulnerability. Innocent Aspiration is also core to one’s vibrant sense of subjective embodied presence, authenticity to one’s values and needs, and cherished unadulterated ideals.

A person who has a strongly developed Baseline Innocent Aspiration will have a powerful conscious integration of their vulnerability. This will look like an unashamed embrace of the depths of their feelings and values attached to that, and an ability to request and receive from others in a vibrant yet grounded, interdependent manner. It will be easier to cry, rest, dream about one’s sensitive ideals, and savor experiences. While doing so in a way that is grounded in self-regulation and self-love.

A lack of development in Baseline Innocent will lead to a polarized presentation that is characterized by disconnection.There are two extremes this can present as. The first is a self-agitating and self-victimizing vulnerability. It will look like spinning in inconsolably self-distressing and self-loathing oneself. This is paired with fundamentally pushing away the idea that others can see the importance of one’s vulnerability sufficiently, so this vulnerability must be presented through self-abandonment, while paradoxically relying on others for self esteem. Often vulnerability is not sufficiently or cannot be safely acknowledged by others, I’m talking about a habitual alienation from oneself and others. Secondly, it can look like complete denial of vulnerability, in favor of an armored numb life. Both extremes contain the other. The self-agitation presentation leads to numbness to one’s actual restful, trustful, and tender softness. The disconnected numb presentation leads to a whirlpool of neglected inner life that will bleed into a reactive and antagonistic relationship to the world. Both are a denial of the ability to accept one’s inner life as it is without exaggerating or numbing. Despite drastically different possible presentations, lack of innocent aspiration will lead to the denial of lovingly acknowledging the actual un-tampered states of one’s depths to oneself. This further leads to an inability to share this with others.

How Accentuated Innocent Manifests Across Layers

Layer A: Lifestyle

In Layer A Innocent is characterized by a restful, sensitive, and gentle kind of preferred lifestyle. It is also associated with a focus on expressing one’s inner sensitivities, gentle ideals, and the creativity powered by these.

Layer B: Affiliation

In Layer B Innocent is characterized by one’s comfortable typical presentation being quite delicate and yielding.

Layer C: Intimate

In Layer C Innocent is characterized by desiring to take on intimate roles that are needy, passively soft, and compliantly and sensitively responsive.

Societal Stereotypes

In Western Industrialized Culture Innocent Aspiration is seen as primarily for women, children and the disabled, and stigmatized for men to present as. It’s often something that only the middle and upper class have access to claim. Within this framework, this coercive assignment of Innocent Aspiration onto people comes with restrictive and oppressive standards and elimination of autonomy. Embodying innocence has been seen as a core part of feminine sex appeal and something to ridicule men over. Physical beauty ideals ascribed as expressing Innocent Aspiration are neoteny, youthful hairless skin, skinniness, being composed of small round shapes, and being doll-like. There are also strong racial stereotypes with White women seen as more innocent, and East Asian women fetishized as being innocent(with East Asian men being mocked as such). People who try to express Innocent Aspiration without these kinds of physical features are often judged as out of place. The harassment potentially escalates to even being socially punished, mocked, or attacked from expectations being transgressed. In East Asia the dominant beauty and social norms strongly evoke Innocent Aspiration. It’s evoked in a manner that is simultaneously both punk, rebellious against strict social order and immense rigid expectations, and highly commodified and focused on superficially placating people’s deeper internal needs.

Some Feminist rebellions against these norms, in an attempt to stop this coercive infantilization, have led to some stigmatization of women expressing innocence, even of their own authentic volition. This has shifted and been challenged by contemporary Feminism and youth liberation. Especially among Gen Z the deconstruction of gender norms and norms of adulthood has led to a greater embrace of innocent Aspiration for everyone. Many nonbinary and gender expansive identities deeply incorporate their own flavor of Innocent Aspiration with less traditional associations. Though both Millennials and Gen Z and related social movements have been mocked with terms associated with Innocent Aspiration, eg naive, snowflakes, infantile, or crybabies.

Possibilities

It’s possible to have a society where people of all sorts can express innocence and vulnerability and have it cherished and celebrated. There can be a future where people are not gate kept from expressing both baseline and accentuated Innocent Aspiration based on how their body is shaped or their background. There can be culture and infrastructure that deeply acknowledges and supports the worth of everyone’s needs and the depth of feeling that all people share. There can be a world where it isn’t so hard for people to be soft, and cutely and guilelessly present for each other. It’s possible for the softness society has cordoned off to youth to be reclaimed as a fertile ground for imagination, connection, and seeding new gentler wonder filled futures.

#ingenue #aapt #kibbe #kibbe body types #personality typology #enneagram #essence #kawaii #youth liberation #feminism

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zealoussy · 10 months

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OLIVIA - DOROTHY STRACHEY REVIEW

General Book Information

Title : Olivia

Author : Dorothy Strachey

Genre : Classics, Queer Lit, Fiction

Released : 1949

Book Summary

Olivia may seem like any other teenage girl from middle class in London, but her upbringing is not so common. Having been raised by agnostic parents, Olivia finally finds relief when her parents decide to take her abroad. Thus freeing her from the suffocating conformity in her previous religiously-oriented school. In her new school, not only does she have to adapt to the beauty of France, she also has to adapt to her newfound discovery about herself.

Likes/Dislikes

What I like the most while reading this book is the beautiful writing style. It’s lyrical, it’s majestic. it knows the depth of a woman’s heart.

“But there was no need of wine to intoxicate me. Everything in her proximity was intoxicating.”

At first I found it a little bit difficult to grasp her writing style, but it gets you used to it very quickly. Even hooked on it. For a character like Olivia, who still has her naivety on her sleeve, that kind of monologue is very fitting. The character of Olivia is not a complicated one, but because it’s not, it’s harder to make the reader's attention on her- yet Olivia managed.

She’s young and madly in love. In a place where her target desire is near, she loves with every inch of her being. She's courageous, maybe because she's naive like that. Even then, in her world where human desire is only allowed if it's legalized, she's struggling with the inability to express her affection openly. Well, that struggle being an age-gap amongst many others… It's not hard to imagine that Olivia doesn't get it easy. I get that the center of the story is Olivia’s experience with same-sex love towards her headmistress, but it is unclear what the actual conflict the love interest has. I only noted that there are hints of the love interest’s past, but it never actually gets revealed. Although mentioning this and that without actually diving deep into the love interest’s backstory made her a mysterious person, it threw me off of the pace. It feels incomplete. I need to know the motif behind the headmistress’s pull-push attitude to Olivia. But alas, the story ended too quickly before I had discovered the explanation. Don’t get me wrong, attempts were made. But just that they’re not good enough for me. Maybe I expected big since I got attached to the lyrical writing style, still, it sort of fell short in my experience.

Would you recommend this book?

Honestly? No. But if you want some quotable words to read, feel free to do so. I’m finicky when it comes to rating, and I think you’ll find yourself enjoying a better fleshed out queer classic story than this.

Favorite Quotes

“I understand at last. Life, life, life, this is life, full of overflowing with every ecstasy and every agony. It is mine, mine to hug, to exhaust, to drain.”

“If it depended on altering the feelings in my heart, I was no more capable of doing that than of plucking the heart out of my breast-and I didn't want to.”

“How hard it is to kill hope! Time after time, one thinks one has trodden it down, stamped it to death. Time after time, like a noxious insect, it begins to stir again, it shivers back again into a faint tremulous life. Once more it worms its way into one's heart, to instill its poison, to gnaw away the solid hard foundations of life and leave in their place the hollow phantom of illusion.”

“‘It has been a struggle all my life—but I have always been victorious-I was proud of my victory.’ And then her voice changed, broke, deepened, softened, became a murmur: ‘I wonder now whether defeat wouldn't have been better for us all-as well as sweeter.’"

#adablabbooks #book review #classic lit #queer lit #olivia dorothy strachey #sapphic books #bookblr

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jasper-crow · 1 year

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hey look this might be totally weird i’m so sorry if it is but i saw your tags about feeling not femme enough, and i felt that a lot, but also it reminded me of this quote that made me feel very seen. it’s from "Femme-Dyke" by Arlene Istar, featured in The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (there’s a post about it somewhere on this app but i couldn’t find it sorry :’)

"A few years ago, I bought a pair of warm winter boots. I worked in an agency where all the women wore heavy femme drag, and even if I hadn't been out, my differentness was apparent. I wasn't sure if the agency would even let me wear boots to work. I walked into my office, and two male co-workers immediately began playfully whistling. "Ooh, new boots — how butch," they teased me. Later that evening, I met my lover and another friend, both butch identified. They too teased: "Ooh, new boots — how fernmy," they said. And I suppose that's what being a femme-dyke means. The boys think I'm butch, and the girls think I'm femme.”

being femme isn’t just feminine and isn’t just being like. a trad wife. it’s such a complicated expression of gender/masculinity/femininity and a rejection of the rules of traditionally femininity. anyways, basically, you’re slay. don’t let others convince you otherwise.

So it took a long time to figure out how to respond to this.

First off I'll say that this isn't weird at all. One of the biggest things I'm an advocate for is community building, the lowest level of which is simply offering support and kind words to our fellow queer brothers and sisters whenever we can. Thats the most amazing human instinct and you should never appologize for it. 💙

My feelings on this subject are...... confused I guess is the best way of putting it. I suppose its important to clarify.

I'm not a blue collar union worker by choice.

To make a long story short, I'm from a lower middle class family of 7 in central Ohio. College was always going to be a longshot for us. My parents gladly cosigned on college loans and helped out my two sisters in their pursuit of going to college. This wasn't extended to me and my brothers.

Thus I did the stupid thing a lot of kids in my position do.

I joined the military

This was easily one of, if not THE, worst decisions I've ever made in my life. If I'm being frank I believe my parents pushed me towards this due to a combination of rose colored glasses with the armed forces, outright misogynistic veiws of men and women's career paths, and the thought that perhaps the military would beat some semblance of "discipline" into my ADHD self. In attention to a misguided attempt to break up me and my now wife, who at the time wasn't sure if we were going to be able to make long distance work. (Spoiler we did)

Now being 6 years post getting out and having settled into a new state, having recently hit the 10 year mark with my lovely wife, starting my transition, and doing so many other wonderful things I never thought I'd be able to do, I've unfortunately found I don't have any marketable skills that aren't in blue collar industry.

I signed on for an office job and wasn't told till I'm already trapped in BMT that my ADHD disqualified me for that job. I was assigned to be a maintenance technician without much if any consultation from me.

I did most of my time in my contract. Frankly got physical abused more than you'd assume they do nowadays, and generally just tried to learn my job and stay out of the way. When they found out I wasn't going to re-enlist (Duh) they used my ADHD once again as an excuse to revoke my medical waiver and kick me out without giving me access to my GI bill, the whole reason I joined at all.

Blue collar industry is notoriously homo/transphobic and as such I'm still stealth at my place of work, even in a significantly more blue state than I was born in. This is just a fact of my life.

So I'm left in a very awkward position. I have a lot of reasons to love and hate my job and my career in general. Reasons I love it include:

-I can support my families finances

-I can stand up and support my fellow queer brothers and sisters when others mistreat them

-I provide good insurance and stability to my family

-I can help out around the house, fix simple things, rewire outlets ect. Very useful things to know

But at the same time everything related to my job and career is a very painful reminder that:

-I do genuinely enjoy the work, it gives me some level of fulfillment

-I'm only in this situation because of my own families treatment of me pretransition

-I'm only able to keep this position because I stay closeted at work

-I was never in a situation where I felt like I had other options available to me

-I'm here because of my own stupid decisions and my time loaning my soul to an imperialist war machine

-I generally feel trapped in this position and like there aren't really other options for me to pursue

So by connection when I do stuff relating to my job and career outside of work its..... bittersweet? I think thats the best way to describe it. Its my last real big teather to my "old life" as it were and functions to remind me of all the things I wasn't allowed to and still can't have to an extent.

-I likely cannot ever "come out" at this or any other worksite without MASSIVELY affecting my earning potential and my ability to move forward or even get jobs

I appreciate the passage exerpt and I really love how other queer people see me outside of work, and frankly I've been told at work by some that I'm only "stealth" because the old men I work with are dumb as all hell. Stuff like this makes me feel wonderful and much more secure in my identity 💙

But I guess its more of an internal issue of how I veiw myself and how and why my life has gone how it does, rather than one of how others veiw me.

#sorry this was so long #i really appreciate the support #just wanted to clarify #my feelings are mixed and probably always will be on this #personal #guess this is the most personal ive ever really gotten on tumblr #funniest thing is ive been on tumblr basically the whole time #femme #femme4butch #blue collar #idk like 7 trigger warnings?#i never learned how to tag that stuff #if someone knows just put it in the replies and I'll tag #feel free to reblog maybe itll help someone else #not sure how but that's probably the Autism lol #community building #always be kind whenever you can #love all yall

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alexsfictionaddiction · 2 years

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Review: The Feeling Good Club: Smash Your Worries, Bella! by Kelly McKain and Jenny Latham

Who doesn’t love a cute, uplifting middle-grade story? That’s all I wanted from this book and I was delighted that it delivered!

Bella’s best friend Rohisha has moved away and now Bella has no friends at school. Even worse, she is worried about having to give a Class Talk soon. But then, she joins forces with Archie and Shazmin, a duo who couldn’t be happier to welcome her into their fold. To try and work through their problems, the three of them form The Feeling Good Club but there are still challenges ahead.

I loved the charming illustrations that were all over this book, as they really added to the feel good, joyful theme. It also made the whole book feel like Bella’s journal too, which offered a unique quality into her life that made it easy to connect to her.

These little extra parts of the book reinforced the fact that we were reading Bella’s journal. I could easily relate to her anxiety and sadness about Rohisha moving away and having to go through school life without her. I loved how infectious her desire to be positive was and the cute format of the book really helped keep that upbeat vibe, even when things were happening that weren’t so great.

Bella loves to bake and this becomes more central to the story towards the end. Any book with lots of references to food and particularly sweet stuff immediately draws me in and I loved seeing Bella do what she loved and flourish during it.

There is also a lovely focus on mindfulness and the wonders it can do for an anxious mind. Their mindfulness session is what inspires Bella and her friends to start The Feeling Good Club, which gives them the power to overcome their fears. I really think that introducing things like mindfulness and stress management to young children is a great idea and can definitely lead to them becoming smart, relaxed and emotionally mature teens and adults.

I also loved the theme of acceptance and celebrating your true self. It’s such an important message to impart on young people because we live in a world where it sometimes not safe to express your true feelings. However, if everyone felt comfortable enough to do so, happiness levels would increase exponentially.

The Feeling Good Club is a new series celebrating happiness, acceptance and truth. It’s funny, relatable and very charming with some highly important themes. This first instalment was such a delight to read and I can’t wait to see what adventures the gang go on next!

#the feeling good club #smash your worries bella #kelly mckain #jenny latham #middle-grade #book review #review #books #bookworm

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l-raearthur · 2 years

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バス

The clicking of the indicator continuously penetrates my ear drum as the bus hesitates before making its next move. A reassuring sound, reminding me I did, in fact, manage to get to the bus on time and that I can relax a little knowing I’m headed in the right direction. The summer has only just started and I’m already sweating buckets. Luckily the ride to work provides some relief with the aircon working tirelessly, lulling me into a false sense of security and comfort that is shattered anytime the doors open.

I have gotten used to my routine in this town, particularly this part. I’ve always had to travel by bus or train as my mother never drove, and the ritual of planting myself in a seat and slowly plodding towards your destination is a consistency I appreciate. As we approach the next stop, the cheerful voice in the speaker announcing our location, everyday she has the same tone, repeats the same sentences. I find a sense of calm in that predictability. My mind is free to wander.

My brain is constantly jumping between the extremes of mindless thought, between the minutest detail and the largest life goals and the unpaved paths leading to them. Sometimes these thoughts occur simultaneously and I confuse myself, not knowing what my subconscious was trying to express.

I wonder what so-and-so is up to. I hope that person’s trip goes well. Oh, I should make that worksheet for Tuesday’s class when I get to work. That’s bright! Sun directly in my eyes, thank you. Cyclist. Aww, a dog! Cute! I hope it doesn’t rain, I left my umbrella by the door. Maybe we should sell umbrellas too, in the cafe, the one I want to open one day, that’s also a bookshop and a night venue with cocktails that I’ve already got the full business plan ready for sitting in a corner of my brain taking up far too much space. I shouldn’t think about that right now. I’ll only stress myself out about the rota again. I want to relax a bit before I start work.

I wonder if those birds outside the classroom window will be as loud today, I hope so…

Periodically, the sun streams in through the windows as we pass by the gaps between the buildings lining the main road of the town. When I refocus my attention on my surroundings, I see the group of middle school girls at the front of the bus have pulled out a magazine. As they pour over it, their chatter remains quiet, as they turn page after page. The general calm of the bus is new to me, growing up this was a space of noise and chaos, packed with students with no room to move but plenty of room to talk, laugh, and argue.

Back home this journey continues for millions. Crammed onto a bus early in the morning, your only options are to sit far too close with a stranger, or navigate standing for your journey which could end in you knocking someone out with your over packed bag or falling into the lap of one of those seated strangers. If I can, I always chose to sit. I could stand, I’ve been on buses all my life so I know how to not fall as the bus sways, jolts, and tests your balance. I had a boyfriend in secondary school, tall, 6’3. His parents drove and he’d never really been on a bus until he came to visit me on the other side of town. Sitting or standing was an issue, with long legs and a gait befitting his gangly status, he didn’t really fit. I should have known then it wouldn’t work.

I suppose now I see the bus as a place where I am alone. Never physically, but mentally I feel lighter. I wasn’t always alone in this place, my routine used to revolve around the people I travelled with. There were four of us, best friends in many ways but distant in others. A typical teenage relationship I suppose, with a desire to be understood yet never fully perceived in fear of what feels like an inevitable rejection. We all got on and off the bus at consecutive stops. I was the first to board and the last to leave. I think I liked it that way, I cherished those small moments of solidarity before the next leg of my journey. I also relished in our conversations, the bizarre and the mundane, the gossip and the sharing of secrets. To us, sitting at the back of the bus, two pairs of seats facing each other, we were in our own little world. No one else was there.

As we cross the bridge over the river, reducing in size as the temperature continues to build, the landscape opens up through the front window. The mountains exposed, the full force of the sun consumes us. The unrelenting power of the aircon protects us with a shield of cool air.

At the next stop, the doors open and the bus gains one more passenger. A fourth girl joins the group and falls immediately into her usual spot by the door. As the bus jerks forward, one of the girls drops her towel, which is a necessary accessory for anyone attempting to function in the summer heat. The swiftness of her movements as she returns it to her lap solidify its importance. Despite falling so effortlessly into her seat next to the established group of girls, our new addition appears to ignore the reading material the others are so absorbed by. After a few streets spent distantly gazing out of the window, she rests her head on the metal bar to her right and closes her eyes, bus pass in hand.

The hesitation of the bus as it calculates its departure into traffic always fascinates me. There is a quiet determination as the vehicle is poised, waiting, the engine subdued almost to a stop, before pushing forward with a confident stride towards its next location. The stops and pauses at red lights feel different though. Your focus is not on the iminent movement but is instead drawn to the vibration of your surroundings. Presenting the humming reassurance of a temporary halt.

As we progress through our journey, we stop again to welcome new members into our ranks.

A student enters the bus under the cover of the cedar trees which line this road. A relative is waving them off as the bus pulls away.

At the next stop, a man, suit jacket folded over his left arm, climbs down from the elevated seats at the rear of the bus. He pays his fare, thanks the driver, and departs into the sun.

We pass a house. It is a sublime shade of forest green with white trimmings. Three floors, plenty of windows and a wrap-around porch. As we slip past, my eyes linger for a second at this house as it sits on the corner at the base of a hill. I think I would like to live there.

As we turn the corner we begin travelling parallel with the river. A few more corners appear and are navigated by the driver. One corner. Another, and another. The buzz and flash of red to my right informs me someone has pressed the bell, and as we turn the final winding corner I gather my things. It is my time to depart.

——

by Lavender-Rae Arthur (@l-raearthur)

#bus #my writing #japan #japanese #writers of tumblr #fiction #autobiographical #writers blog #creative writing #literature

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Whole Lot of Red ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Sneaky meet ups with Draco where nobody knows the two of you have a thing for the other until the day he sees someone flirting with you and lets his jealousy get the best of him. AU where its around seventh year and Voldermort never existed so Draco never got traumatized !

Warnings: light smut/hinted smut, jealous/possessive-ish Draco, a little more mature themes

Words: 1.8K

A/N: aging him UP for this one ! and making draco a tad rude bc the way i picture it is just WOW also i like to try to change up the way i write him sometimes :) also couldn’t find this gif anywhere so if it looks low quality its bc i made it >:( i want so badly for him to walk up to me like thaaaat anyways I HOPE THIS IS GOOD

It was a funny thing, feelings, and the way they blossomed in places they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time you found yourself in the Slytherin Prince’s presence. It was a shame really, you had never even given him the time of day prior to the time you were forced to work on a Charms project together but now here you were; completely and undeniably entranced by him.

Your group of y/h friends and you were gathered in the foyer outside the Great Hall, the doors wide open and welcoming students for the lunch that was going to be served in just a few minutes. Your friends were lost in conversation and you couldn’t be happier as your focus darted around the room hoping to spot the platinum mop of hair.

Out of sheer coincidence, a boisterous group of Slytherins had entered the foyer from the direction of the dungeons, all talking loudly and jokingly pushing each other as they came into view. Your eyes landed on the laughing blond in the middle, his toothy grin almost twinkling under the sunlight that streamed in through the large medieval windows. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before stopping on you, the smile on his face morphing into a smug knowing smirk.

A shivering weakness shot up your legs, your heart doing somersaults in your stomach as you recalled the previous night. It involved you sneaking out of the common room to meet Draco in a dark and hidden corner of the castle in the dead hours of night, his Prefect duties long finished and a looming fear of getting caught by Filch. It was you being backed into said corner, his body flush against your quivering one, a strong hand clamped tightly over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that unwillingly left your mouth as his lips left trails of wet kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and chest. It was his knee in between your legs, pushing you harder against the wall as your hands got tangled in his hair while he held your face in place by your jaw, whispering compliments and desires into your ear with kisses to it in between, smiling coyly to himself when he heard the small gasps of pleasure coming from you.

All this was because of a simple charms project, the two of you forced to spend a couple weeks together where it was constant bickering and malicious teasing until the tension between the two of you had gotten so overwhelmingly strong it was suffocating. It had gotten so unbearable that one day, Draco finally had enough as you were reading something out of your textbook for him, suddenly knocking it out of your hands and scooting closer to you on the shared bench, his minty breath hot against your face and darkening gray eyes flickering from your lips to your widened e/c’s as he whispered a breathless, “can I kiss you?”

Post study make out sessions quickly turned into sneaking away from friends throughout the day which finally led into slipping out of common rooms to meet at night. No one ever noticed nor caught on to the two of you, the both of you keeping it a secret so you wouldn’t have to deal with people’s undesired two cents.

As much as you enjoyed the hands on affection, you found yourself liking the intimacy afterwards even more. You looked forward to sitting down somewhere with him, his arms wrapped warmly around your body as you asked about each other’s day that branched out into talking about anything and everything. You would skip back to your room afterwards, smiling from ear to ear with your head in the clouds until one day it dawned on you; you were in a sticky situation of constantly wondering “what are we?”

You never dared to ask him though, terrified of his answer and that he would leave you in the dust for even bringing it up. In all your years at Hogwarts, you’ve never seen Draco with a girlfriend, he was the most well-known boy at school, an arrogant and proud Slytherin, a skilled quidditch seeker, and an irresistible flirt. But never having the title of ‘the boyfriend’, despite the countless girls that hung off his arms nearly begging for his attention.

“Y/N,” your friend broke you out of your thoughts, a sly smile on her face as she elbowed your side. “Your little friend is headed this way.”

You looked at her in confusion, turning your attention towards the tall Gryffindor, Trevor, that was walking towards your small group, a bright smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on you. Your friends giggled teasingly, already knowing what his presence would ensue. He was nice, but annoying as he relentlessly flirted with you every time you had your Transfigurations class with him. You just chose to ignore him even though he always ended up sitting next to you or around you no matter how many times you moved. He was someone who you complained restlessly about to your group which caused them to laugh and poke fun every time he would come up to you around them.

“Y/L/N!” He said happily, attempting to give you a hug as he came up to you which you only begrudgingly returned with a lazy side hug. He took your hand, leading you a few feet away from your group so he could talk to you privately. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the library after lunch to study for our test later this week?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse but in the midst of your thoughts you remembered you had already made plans with Draco. Speaking of, you had forgotten he was only across the room, unbeknownst to you that he was staring hard at you and your classmate. “I’m busy today.”

“How about after tomorrow?” He asked again hopefully. “We can even go to Hogsmeade after, butterbeers on me!”

You frowned slightly, knowing that this was not a friendly collegiate conversation, but another ploy to try and get you to go out with him. His attempts were increasing week by week and you denied him every single time yet he never got the hint.

“Still busy,” you smiled at him, hoping that if you were to appear nice, it would soften the continuous blow of rejection.

“I’m not going to stop asking until you say yes,” he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his robe as he longingly looked down at you. “You might as well give in.”

His hand came up towards your hair, a skinny finger brushing through a strand of your hair as he pulled a small fluff of lint from your robes before flicking it into the air. You stood frozen in place, the gesture being painstakingly too much for your comfort and borderline creepy coming from him.

Draco felt himself shake with anger, the sight of you smiling at the Gryffindor and that he was running his fingers through your hair made his blood boil. Greeting the git with a hug. You being led away from your friends by your hand. He hated the sight. The thought of any man other than him being so close to you made him feel sick to his stomach, a rage sparking from deep within him he never even knew existed. He watched as you looked up at the boy above you, a weird expression on your face that instantly let him know you were uncomfortable.

That was it for him. He was seeing red as he threw his schoolbooks into Crabbe’s hands, pushing aggressively past a pair of boys that were in his way as he power walked towards you and your classmate.

“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” Draco called out condescendingly in his haughty accent, his scowl deepening as he approached. Trevor’s head snapped towards Draco, a frown etching itself onto his face.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Trevor sneered. “Go find someone else to bother.”

“Take your own advice, filth,” Draco shot back.

“Filth? You’re one to talk,” the Gryffindor chortled. By now, everyone within a few feet of the debacle was watching, entertained at the argument that was beginning to unfold, your friends and Draco’s goons staring oddly at the encounter. You only stood there, looking between both boys towering over you in a daze that left you paralyzed in your spot. You were so close to telling off Trevor before Draco came, feeling grateful at your delayed reaction now that he was there defending you.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Draco threatened, stepping in between you and Trevor as he spoke. “Leave Y/N alone, or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why? You think she’d pick you over me?” He snickered. “We’ll see who’s the one feeling regretful when you find her making that decision.”

By now, Trevor had stepped up to the spiteful Slytherin, getting in his face with a patronizing smile. Draco’s face twisted up in anger as his temper got worse, shoving his competition back with the side of his forearm, feeling satisfied when Trevor stumbled back.

“Funny,” he laughed darkly, “I seem to remember her already making that decision every single day while we’re snogging.”

Multiple gasps can be heard throughout the foyer, including your own as you gaped up at the blond, his eyes staying focused on Trevor as he looked taken aback.

“You trying to say she’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Your legs nearly gave out below you at his response. This was everything you had been hoping for recently, except not like this. But that still didn’t stop you from feeling giddy, however, the bliss of his revelation filling your entire body with glee. The ‘what are we?’ question being ripped from your mind with relief.

“Is that true?” Trevor asks you, a devastated look glazing over his eyes as you slowly nodded. He gives Draco one more pointed look, bumping shoulders with him before he stalked off into the Great Hall in a rush, everyone scattering around to go inside as well now that the show was over.

Draco turned to peer down at you, fury draining from his body as he admired you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the opposite side of your face before whispering hotly into your ear.

“If he tries anything with you again, let me know and I swear I’ll deal with him,” he pulls back from you, smiling at you innocently. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

And with that, he sends you a wink, turning around to saunter over to his eager minions while your friends immediately rush towards you with a million questions that you would inevitably have to answer. This was not at all how you expected the day to turn out, not in the slightest.

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

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979 notes · View notes

vrishchikawrites · 3 years

Note

Post-post-post cannon Wangxian being completely in love in the cloud recessess as teenagers who time travelled back to their own 16-17 year old bodies on accident.

In love. Wangxian are in love. In love. Just smooph and fluff.

Like they're effortlessly in love. (No matter how much Jiang Cheng yells and ties to control Wei Wuxian, Wei Wuxian casually refuses to hear any of it, as he'd been ignoring Jiang Cheng's homophobia and hate forever by the time they both came back by accident. )

Also wwx doesn't hide his genius and every one around him is like senpai *heart eyes* (honestly he's almost forgotten how to hide his effortless genius.)

(Just FYI, don't have to include this: this Wei Wuxian has long since come to terms with all his war and Sunshot and Shiji related trauma— just FYI.)

I just want to read as much of the smooph, smushy fluff and love you can stomach writing please.

Extra points if you can show them both just effortlessly and absentmindedly flirting.

(You don't have to incude this, but: They just take like a weekend off and go raze the main Wen family to the ground casually— back late with Starbucks— "We were night hunting. What do you mean the Wen family died? So sad. We feel so bad. Don't we feel bad?" " Mm. Feel bad.")

Thank you so much for existing in this fandom. I love your fics. I love you. 💖

Xichen is proud of his brother but he can't deny that he is sometimes concerned for him as well. Wangji is a dedicated and accomplished disciple but he is isolated from his peers. Xichen has friends and confidants but Wangji is simply content to be by himself.

That is concerning, even for a Lan.

He had hopes that incoming disciples would manage to shake him up a little but that hope didn't last long. Year after year, Wangji continued to remain aloof, not expressing any interest in the disciples.

But something has changed this year. Xichen didn't even know what was going on until a few weeks into the introduction of the guest disciples.

He spots them by chance. Young Master Wei is cheerfully waving at a vendor, his smile wide and bright, ensnaring the old woman's entire attention.

Wangji is right by him, Bichen in one hand but the other…

The other is placed on the small of Wei-gongzi's back.

Xichen watches as they move on from the vendor. He sees how Wangji seems to shield Wei-gongzi from the crowd, angling his body slightly to ensure his companion can walk freely.

It is a gesture of protectiveness. It is a gesture of possession.

Xichen studies their body language carefully. Wangji seems content to follow Wei-gongzi around, his expression closed but gentle. There are no frosty glares or pursed lips. His brother, for once, looks entirely relaxed. Everything about him is loose and easy underneath all of his Lan elegance. His shoulders slope gently, his spine isn't as rigid, and his walk is steady.

The First Jade has never seen his brother look so settled.

Wei Wuxian seems happy too, his smile incandescent and lovely. Almost as tall as Wangji, the boy is the very antithesis of his brother. While Wangji is sedate and content, Wei Wuxian is nearly bursting with energy and joy. His silver eyes sparkle in the sunlight and his long hair sways with every movement of his body.

Xichen's heart softens at the glimpse of such open beauty. There's certainly something alluring about Young Master Wei. He seems to suffuse his surroundings with happiness.

There's something in the air around them.

Despite his lively mind wandering from one stall to another, Wei-gongzi always finds his way back to Wangji, looking at him with a hopeful smile and a cheerful comment.

His brother's expression is unfamiliar to him. Wangji looks like his entire world is smiling up at him.

'Is this love?' He wonders to himself as he watches his brother gently pull Wei-gongzi out of a running child's way. He doesn't miss how the touch lingers, fingers curling slightly around the slender wrist before pulling away.

There are many eyes following Wangji and his friend, and all of them have indulgent expressions. The people of Caiyi town have seen Wangji since he was a child. They know him and his nature well enough.

Xichen suspects they're just as happy to see Wangji roaming the markets leisurely as a pretty butterfly flutters around him.

"Is that Lan Wangji?" Nei Mingjue observes, stepping up beside him.

Xichen nods, "And his friend, Wei Wuxian."

"Hm," his friend says, "I've been hearing that name a lot recently. They say the only reason Jin Zuxian beat him in the rankings is because of his looks."

Xichen chuckles at Mingjue's tone, "Ah, Da-ge, you must hate that."

His friend rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his tea. "How do looks matter when you're facing down Fierce Corpses?"

"From what shufu says, Young Master Wei is Wangji's equal in many ways." Shufu had been wary at first, wondering what sort of chaos the son of Cangse Sanren would bring to Cloud Recesses. So far, Wei Wuxian has proven to be a mischievous but brilliant student. "He challenges shufu in class. They end up having loud, angry debates," Xichen chuckles because he knows his uncle, despite all appearances, loves being stimulated, "He mentions the boy often." There's a comment about Wei Wuxian almost every time he has tea with his uncle.

He looks at the two younger master's thoughtfully, "I didn't expect this."

"Are they courting?" Nei Mingjue asks bluntly, "Because your little brother is acting like a husband already."

Xichen stills and looks at the pair again. That is what's off about their body language. They move around each other confidently, not like a young couple in fresh blooms of love.

There are no tentative glances, awkward touches, and hyperawareness. Wangji touches Wei Wuxian like it is his right. Like he is confident that his touch is welcome and desired.

For a moment, he feels a pang of worry. Xichen looks at Wei Wuxian, studying him carefully to see if there's any sign of strain or distress.

He finds nothing. Wei-gongzi responds to every gesture of affection like a flower blooming under the Sun.

"Ah." He realizes, "You think…?"

"Strong bonds form quickly between cultivators with matching potential." Nei Mingjue observes, "It wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility. Your brother looks a little too enamored for this to be a teenage fancy."

Well, isn't this an interesting development?

---

"Your hair looks nice," Nie Huaisang says, hiding a smile behind his fan. Wei-xiong always looks good but there's something particularly radiant about him now. He seems to stand a bit taller, carry himself with a bit more confidence. His gestures seem stronger, somehow carrying more authority than before.

But the hair intrigues him. There's a glittering silver hairpiece in it and the strands of ebony are tied up in a neat style.

Neater than Wei-xiong's usual style. While Huaisang is certain Wei-xiong is perfectly capable of making himself as elegant as the Jades of Lan, he usually doesn't bother.

This was done by someone else's careful, loving, hand.

Jiang Yanli isn't at Cloud Recesses and Jiang Cheng would rather burn his own hands than show even an ounce of love towards his shixiong - something pricks when he thinks about that.

So there's someone else, someone willing to comb Wei-xiong's hair until every strand is glossy and straight, before tying it up with a silver and jade pin that looks expensive.

Wei-xiong is courting- no, he corrects himself, watching his friend wave enthusiastically at Lan Wangji, 'Wei-xiong is being courted.'

Wangji-xiong bows to his brother and walks towards Wei-xiong, his gaze softer than usual. His friend is smiling widely and immediately dissolves into excited chatter. Wangji-xiong doesn't seem bothered, just nodding occasionally and watching with indulgent patience.

There's something entirely lovely about the way Wangji-xiong's eyes remain fixed on Wei Wuxian's face. It is like nothing else is more important to him than Wei-xiong's smile and cheerful voice.

Standing together in the courtyard, both clad in white and glowing under the warm light of the morning sun, they look stunning. Huaisang's romantic heart sighs at the sight.

"What is he doing?" Jiang Wanyin hisses and Huaisang looks at him, startled by his icy tone, "I can't believe he's making a nuisance of himself again!"

"Jiang-gongzi-"

"Wei Wuxian! What are you doing, messing around?"

The loud voice catches almost everyone's attention. Wei-xiong looks over his shoulder and Wangji-xiong's expression turns frosty, all warmth draining from it immediately.

"Aiya, Jiang Cheng," Wei-xiong grins but it doesn't have that sheepish, placating quality that Huaisang had seen before, on those rare occasions he visited Lotus Pier with his da-ge. This grin was full of confidence and almost... dismissal. "Why are you angry now?"

Was that tone... mocking?

Huaisang's lips twitch as Jiang-gongzi swells further with rage, "Wei Wuxian! How can you be so shameless? Imposing yourself on Lan Wangji, always trying to distract him. Think of our sect's reputation for once!"

"Do not speak for me." Wangji-xiong's voice is icy and it cuts Jiang-gongzi's rant short immediately, "Wei Ying is free to seek me out whenever he wishes. No one may stop him."

And that seems to be that. Wei-xiong laughs and Wangji-xiong guides him away gently like he's someone delicate and not the strongest cultivator of their generation.

But, Huaisang muses, even strong people deserve gentleness.

---

"Da-shixiong! Show us that one again," A Jiang disciple demands and Wangji looks up from his work. He has clear sight of the training ground from where he's sitting. Wei Ying is standing in the middle, surrounded by a few Jiang and Lan disciples.

They're all looking at him in adoration.

Wangji feels a flood of amusement and sets his work aside, content to take a small break. It is always a treat to see his husband in his element; teaching people and nurturing young minds. They may be back in their teenage bodies, but their soul is much older.

Wei Ying, with his natural ability to charm juniors and his hard-earned wisdom, is the perfect teacher.

"It is amusing to see you so smitten," Wangji looks up to see his brother smiling at him, "Wei-gongzi must be very special, yes?"

His brother probably aims to fluster him, he is so fond of teasing Wangji. But Wangji had been Wei Ying's husband for more than a decade before an accident sent them back in time. He is no longer flustered or overwhelmed by his feelings. "Very special," He agrees, unable to help glancing back at his beloved, "Very lovely."

Xichen chuckles, "He is indeed lovely." His expression turns sly, "Do I need to speak with Uncle? Betrothal negotiations may be complicated in this case."

Wangji remains unphased, "You may," He says calmly, much to his brother's surprise, "Wei Ying will marry into the Lans. Give no concession to the Jiangs. He is just their Head Disciple, not the part of the family."

"Wangji," His brother breathes, "You're that invested?"

"Un. Will marry Wei Ying. Give him a better life. A life of dignity, freedom, and respect. Free of unnecessary debt that no one should foist on a child."

That is enough for Xichen to understand. His gaze turns solemn and he looks at Wei Ying carefully, "If that is what you wish, brother, you will have it."

---

Wangji feels his heart still when he steps into the library pavilion. He gazes at the scene before him, feeling the stiff formality of his expression melt away.

Wei Ying is beautiful, sitting there and reading peacefully. The evening sunlight envelopes him, giving him an ethereal glow. He traces his husband's features, feeling something akin to desperate love. It has been so since he saw this face and this body. Mo Xuanyu didn't lack beauty and Wei Ying's radiant personality had only added to it.

But this is Wei Ying's true body.

Helplessly drawn, he steps forward. "Xingan."

Wei Ying looks up, startled to hear such an endearment aloud. Immediately, his face is aglow with a pretty blush even as he laughs teasingly, "Lan Zhan! Don't be so bold!"

He walks towards Wei Ying and settles down by him, closer than truly appropriate but this is his husband. "Research?"

Wei Ying smiles, drawing Wangji's attention to his lips. There's no one in the library so Wangji permits himself the touch, reaching forward to gently caress them, "Such beauty." He whispers.

Wei Ying blushes again, "Er-gege," He protests, "Have mercy on my heart."

His fingers slide under Wei Ying's jaw, drawing him in gently. His husband is sweet and compliant as Wangji kisses him, an innocent brush of lips and nothing more. "My Wei Ying." His voice is low, heated in ways Wei Ying recognizes. He watches as those enchanting silver eyes brighten with passion.

His Wei Ying buries his warm face in his neck with a moan of protest, "Mercy, husband. You're so cruel to tease me like this when you can't take me to bed."

It is indeed a challenge to not have their 'everyday' but Wangji can be patient. Xiongzhang is already working on it.

For now, he is content.

They sit like that for a long time, Wei Ying leaning against him, trusting and calm. No one disturbs them and Xichen only stops by once, smiling knowingly in their direction and pointedly ignoring Wangji's restraining hand around Wei Ying's waist, stopping him from pulling away.

They spend the rest of the evening exchanging soft murmurs and softer kisses.

Nothing will stand in their way this time.

#short prompts #wangxian #wei wuixan #lan wangji #lan xichen #nie huaisang #anti jiang cheng

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jungwonseyebrowsonflick · 3 years

Note

hi babe if ure taking any requests, can i request roommates reader and taehyun studying tgt but ended up making out in the couch? ty!!!!

Hoped you like it! I really try my best to write(type) this nicely! @kkyubear

°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×

" Taehyun and Y/n, y'all working together for this project, also class, don't forget to study this week for our exam on Friday...." The flashback appeared back again for the fifth time today.

" Why did Mr.Kim, chose him as my partner....?" You mumbled to yourself as you took a sip from your strawberry boba drink. You're sitting at the boba drink restaurant by yourself, next to the window. You watch people pass by while thinking about the project, the exam, and.....that boy named Taehyun.

Why did it bother you so much about Taehyun being your partner for the project? Well.....Kang Taehyun is your roommate. He is a new student in the college you go to.....well for you he's new because you know half of the people on the campus and you have never seen him before until this year.

You remembered how surprised you felt when you saw the new super attractive silver strikes hair guy in your room, sitting at the dark blue sheet of his bed, reading a science book on his lap, a guitar laying next to him, his arms behind his head, showing his strong biceps that you couldn't take your eyes away from.

You remembered how his natural beautiful big eyes suddenly looked at your side making your heart jump a little. He gave you a smile that lasted 3 seconds before turning back to his book. You remembered how you felt that moment. You felt a little nervous and you felt the feeling of butterflies flying around your stomach almost making it ache.

Taehyun was a quiet guy. When he was out, he would always try to come to the tiny apartment early before eight of the night so he wouldn't have to wake you up in the middle of the night with his noises.

Both of you would just do their things and would have small talks like the good morning greetings, the goodnight byes, stuff about school and that's it.

In the middle of the year, you two started to become a little more comfortable with each other. You remembered the first night you felt in a great mood and felt confident to ask him if wanted to study with you. Taehyun nodded kindly with his bright smile and agreed. Both of you would study on the couch, books on the table that stand in the middle of the tiny living room, and snacks around the books and papers.

It became a habit to study together like this whenever you two were having a test. Soon you two became friends and you no longer felt shy talking to him. However you still have feelings for him, for your crush, but you always made sure not to make it obvious. At first, you founded wrong to like your friend but you thought it as

" it's just a crush, it'll last for a while, maybe when you two become close friends you will no longer see him as a crush".

You were wrong!

Kang is too damn attractive and looks attractive in anything he wears and in anything he does. His personality is just.... amazing! He is funny, has sarcastic humor, a little savage, he is smart and speaks beautifully. No wonder why you too are studying communications together. Kang Taehyun is just perfect for you. You couldn't help it to feel so attracted to these men.

After you're done going through your entrance of memories and thoughts you got a message from Taehyun.

TerryK🔥

Hey!! Y/nieee~ come home to study! Where are you? 😅

You smile at the way he spelled your name cutely. You forgot to mention his cuteness is just something else.

Ok! I'll be there in a few minutes :)!

°°°

" Here, I brought Gimbap, Kimchi, and some snacks...." He grinned as he takes out the boxes from the bag.

" Love Gimbap and Kimchi...." You smiled, sitting next to him on the couch. You got out your journals and books to study.

°°°

" Wow, This is easy.....imma ace this exam....." He smirks to himself still reviewing his paper. " As always?..." You rolled your eyes.

" Y/nnie~ open your mouth, say ahhhh" he teases as he grabs the Gimbap with his fork over his other hand so it wouldn't drop, and push it towards your lips. You widen your eyes and slightly blush when you saw that coming.

Still, you obey and opened your mouth taking the bite. "Mmm~" you nodded and smiled happily.

"Good!" You said while chewing, your cheeks getting puffy. Taehyun giggle and mumbled

" cute ..". Still you heard that and that made you feel some type of way you can't explain.

Some time pass both of you still studying together on the same couch. Taehyun was still enjoying his kimchi. You watch how he ate it deliciously making you hungry again. You watch his hand, his manly veiny-looking hands holding on to the fork, taking the fork towards his mouth and taking a bite softly. Your mouth was watering by just watching him taking the bite and chewing it slowly. He close his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows together forming tiny lines on his forehead. He shook his head slightly enjoying the taste of kimchi.

'lucky kimchi....' you thought without realizing it.

There were times where you would think about Taehyun. Thinking about him in a then not so-most innocent and pure way and you felt ashamed. Like you said before he is one handsome man with an amazing athletic body so sometimes he would wake a tiny fire of desire inside of you. As always you're very respectful and never try anything funny towards him.

However, today you can feel the heat coming back again. Seeing him next to you so close, where you can see his little imperfections on his face, neck, hands and still you find the perfect. You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and your heart beating fast. The desire to kiss was getting stronger. You didn't realize how close you were leaning towards hi him until suddenly looks away from his book and looks down at at at at your eyes with an intense stare. His big eyes move from your forehead, eyes, lips, and lastly your lips. While you just stare at his lips the entire time.

" What are doing...." He whispered. His serious intense look not changing. His hot breath tickles your nose and cheek. You were feeling aroused by his stare, breath, and his whisper sexy voice.

" You should be staring down your sheet, not on my lips....." Taehyun said, leaning slowly towards you. " I know but I can't help it... would love to study your lips too..." You whispered back now looking at his eyes. Now you're no longer thinking straight.

" And how would you do that?" He whispered back staring back and ford on both of your eyes. He leaned even more closer making you lean away from a little. His hand sneakily touches your left hand that rested on the couch seat behind you. He clutched your hand tightly as his lips were centimeters close to your lips.

You couldn't hold it anymore and you are going to show him how to "study his lips". You slam your lips on his. It wasn't aggressive but not too soft, it was just right. Taehyun also attacks back, his left hand rested on your cheeks and neck, his other hand still holding your left hand. The slightly hard kiss became more passionately and rougher as now Taehyun press you against him so closely. His hand digs through your hair, and his other hand suddenly snakes around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands run through his silver and black hair pulling his locks of hair.

The kiss was hard, rough, and passionately almost as if you two were eating up each other's mouths.

You felt this wasn't enough, you wanted to feel him even closer to you. You decided to get on top of his lap. You wrapped your legs around his torso. Now you can feel his ripped body and his everything so close to yours.

" Ahh, ~ Tae..... *kisses* you're so...*kisses* hot....*kisses, lip biting from him* mmm~ Taehyun~~......I like you". You said as you immediately pulled away to take a breath. You just realized what you said covering your mouth.

" As my friend!" You said with a terrifying expression.

Taehyun chuckled and raised an eyebrow. " Are you sure?..... because friends don't kiss, especially like we did....." He whispered the last sentence, leaning close again to peck on your lips.

" I want more...." He whispered to you as he kiss your cheeks. You smiled shyly and look down away from his gaze. Your cheeks turning into a pink shade. Taehyun grabs your chin softly and made you face him. He leans slowly and kisses your lips. You melted into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck rightly, pressing your body against him even more. His hands roamed around your back and sides. Sometimes he'll run his hands through your hair just like you did with his.

You two enjoy this intimate moment with each other for while. Enjoying this new feeling you two discover together. Now, this is happening.....it makes you wonder what will happen next? What would happen to this relationship? You will decide what your fate with Taehyun would be in the future, for sure you two won't be staying like friends forever? Right?......

•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°×•°

Thank you for reading!

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kiefbowl · 3 years

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hmmm...I’m laying in bed and thinking about my own childhood. I’m thinking about how through music and television and movies I was exposed to the idea of women who can be nasty in bed before even learning any real mechanics of sex (except that the penis goes into the vagina). also, how much the boys in my class ended up exposing me and the girls in our class to ideas of sex in much the same way with their jokes and coded references, undoubtedly through their porn exposure. sometime around 7/8 grade, it was definitely fun for some of the boys to get away with “girlie sex noises” in class. High pitch moans, breathy oohs and ahhs before laughing to themselves about it.

As a girl, it’s not like you’re completely in the dark, but you know you’re missing big pieces of the puzzle. It’s like the first time you hear the phrase “blow job” and you’re not quite sure what that means, but you know it’s a sex thing immediately. The first time I heard the phrase blow job I was in middle school and a girl I was friends with (who had some fucked up shit going on at home) told me a “joke” about how pigtails are blow job handle bars. I was too embarrassed to ask what a blow job was but I felt so uncomfortable at the idea and couldn’t express why. Thinking of the age I was, I probably still wore pigtails sometimes. My imagination of course ran wild. So here’s this girl being told that a secret sex thing that doesn’t sound pleasurable can relate to her childish hair style that makes her into an object (handle bars)...but when exactly do young girls get exposed to the idea that sex is mutual beneficial and natural and pleasurable? I remember learning the handle bar joke, but do I remember learning those things? How many girls or young women have sex over and over again before they even learn that they can orgasm? how many girls and young women know that to be “good” at sex you have to impress a man by being “nasty” but don’t know what that means? I’m not even sure I know what it means now. How many girls think “I have to be nasty in bed” but are too embarrassed to ask “what does that mean?” and so act out anything and everything? try to be wild by moaning and saying “yes daddy harder more more more” but have no idea why they are saying it?

But now I’m 30, and I’ve had a lot of good experience with sex and a lot of my bad experiences with sex are in the past, and I’m self assured, scientifically knowledgeable, have had orgasms, have had long loving relationships, masturbate, explored female pleasure...and it hits me that I really don’t know what the fuck “nasty” is supposed to mean. Sure, act like a porn star, be hyper aerobic, be willing and ready to live out your boyfriends fantasies, whatever. But what I mean is, we attach these words - wild, crazy, nasty, dirty, naughty - to sex to be euphemisms of what exactly. Ultimately, they don’t really describe sex as much as they describe a mindset about sex, and more specifically a mindset about male sexual desires of female objects. That girl is nasty because she likes that I cream her, fill her, ram her, she’s nasty because we do it in the shower, in the car, she’s available day and night, she’s nasty because she blows me, sucks my dick, drinks my cum...but these are just frameworks of ways to have sex that aren’t inherently nasty? Men just think sex is degrading for women and like that. Sex is just nasty, right? Missionary lights off wife loving is boring and necessary sometimes but really good sex is getting to degrade a woman with your cock, filling her up with your cock and jizz, making her take it, teaching her violence, making her your slutty little thing...using her as masturbation essentially and knowing that’s humiliating for her, maybe even knowing that more than her...

And the first time tween girls are exposed to sex talk are these messages garbled through the approximation of other tweens? no wonder no wonder no wonder no wonder.....

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starlightstevie · 3 years

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fics rec / march 2021

Hello again! Here are my favourite fics from the past month - I enjoyed reading these so MUCH and I hope you guys do too!

(* is smut)

Fuck it I’m recommending this again this month because Kait’s cowboy!Thor series is just THAT good and everyone needs this country boy in their life:

*I Need A Hero by @inthorantine Masterlist Cowboy!Thor: After Y/N finds out that her late grandfather has willed his rural Montana ranch to her, she decides it’s time for a little change of scenery. At least until it’s in a condition to sell. Along the way, Y/N finds a renewed appreciation for hard work, new friends, and possibly even love. She has the land. Can Thor help make it a home?

*saints can’t help me now by @peachyteabuck Forest god!Thor x reader: I will tell you the mystery of the woman and of the beast that carries her, whose name has not been written in the book of life from the foundation of the world. Kings give their power and authority to the beast, and those who are with him are the called and chosen and faithful.

and with that shadow upon the ground, i hear my people screaming out by @blackberrybucky Thor x reader: You're on the ship when Thanos comes aboard.

*Warm Water by @xbuchananbarnes Thor x reader: Reader takes a bath after a long day.

*h/c: dom!thor by @thorsthot

Imagine: Thor smells like a storm by @wandas-sunshine

*Somnus by @sweeterthanthis Nomad!Steve x reader: On the rare occasion that you have him in your bed, you savor every last minute. Even while he sleeps.

*Morning Wood by @angrythingstarlight Nomad!Steve x reader: Your new neighbor Steve gives you more than one surprise in the morning.

Good Kind of Trouble by @all1e23 Biker!Stever x reader: Steve finally meets his cute neighbor. She’s not impressed.

*h/c: the way steve fucks by @helahades

*Cock Worship by @ozarkthedog Andy Barber x reader: You take care of an exhausted Andy.

*illicit affair by @feliciahardyn Professor!Andy Barber x reader: You had been crushing on your sexy professor, Andy Barber since the beginning of the semester but he made it hard for you to focus in class. Lucky for you, he was willing to give you the best lesson in your life though.

if it’s not you, it’s not anyone by @blackberrybucky Bucky x reader: Bucky comes back from the snap and his world is shattered.

*West Coast Turnaround by @moteldwelling Trucker!Bucky x reader: Bucky Barnes is six foot of surliness driving his eighteen-wheeler across truck stop America. Reader just so happens to have a working thumb. There’s one bed.

Let Me Protect You by @littleredstarfish Bucky x reader: He's strong but he still needs protection.

deny (with love) my labor by @divine-mistake Bucky x reader: “I’m here,” you sob, hand shaking. “I’m right here, Bucky. I’m here. I’m here. Bucky, please. I’m here. Please don’t leave me. I’m here. I’m right here.” Or, five times Bucky Barnes has a nightmare, and one time you do.

The World’s A Little Blurry by @summergrls Masterlist Bucky x reader: Glimpses into a (mostly) quiet life with the Winter Soldier.

*Oasis by @bubblebucky Bucky x reader: It’s your first time with Bucky, and Bucky’s first time in 80 years.

call it fate, call it karma by @belladonnabarnes Bucky x reader: Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard.

*bucky convinces you to sit on his face by @bunnywritesmarvel

*Chaste by @tiffdawg Mando x reader: It’s tradition for couples not to have sex once a marriage promise is made. Not until the wedding night.

*way down we go by @goldafterglow Mando x reader: Din is made of mismatched shards that you bind together - until you want to watch them fall apart.

*kneel at my alter by @filthybookworm Mando x reader: I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.

*I’m not gonna touch you until you beg by @mxsamwilson

*dripping by @cptnbvcks Javi x reader: Javi brings you something to take the edge off during one of colombia’s heatwaves

*What It Is You Do (To Me) by @filthybookworm Javi x reader: He’s never mentioned a vest before, is all you can think, mouth parting as your tongue drags across your lower lip in an unconscious expression of desire. What is it, you wonder, that makes it look so good?

*Dinner & Diatribes by mxsamwilson Oberyn Martell x black!reader: Oberyn catches your eye from across the room and holds your gaze. His deep eyes swallow you whole, burn straight through you like twin flames, and you’re falling into him once again. Helpless.

*one single thread of gold tied to you by @spacelabrathor Alpha!Deku x Omega!reader: Pro Hero Deku is a frequent visitor at your support lab and you're grateful for it. He's one of your high profile clients and his quirk is strong enough that he has to come for suit repairs near twice a month. It helps that he's one of the most bearable alphas you've ever met, affable and kind, and he never judges you for being a rare omega in the hero line of work. It also helps that he's painfully, absurdly hot. You're perhaps never more grateful for his nature than when the building housing your lab collapses with the two of you in it, and as the walls and floors of your lab crumble, so does the suppressor device that keeps your heats in check and your hormones under control. As the dust settles, you realize you are trapped by rubble and dust and twisted metal with perhaps the only alpha alive that you trust, as your adrenaline surges and your carefully suppressed heat cycle comes roaring to life.

baby mine, don’t you cry by @kaitsukibakugo Deku x reader: A quiet early morning moment between Reader and Deku and their newborn baby.

*you’re such a good girl for me by @rat-suki

*dilf!Deku by @sems-diarie

*more dilf!Deku by sems-diarie

*wreck my plans (that’s my man) by @spacelabrathor Bakugo x reader: You inform Bakugo that he's a control freak who can't cede control in any area of his life for any reason, and, because he's Bakugo, he immediately, furiously rises to the challenge.

*Thin Walls by @rat-suki Bakugo x reader: Katsuki’s loud, obnoxiously so. And you’re the one who has to deal with it.

*all through the night by @some-kindofgnome Bakugo x reader: You and Bakugo have chased a villain far out of the city- too far to make it back for the night. You find somewhere decent to bed down, but there’s a little problem with your room.

*imagine bakugo easing into you, no prep by @sems-diarie

Soon to be dad!Bakugo by @luciilferss

Subtlety is my middle name by luciilferss

Pro hero Bakugo taking care of you by luciilferss

mean!Bakugo has a soft spot for you by @ihatebnha

*Bakugo with a pillow princess girlfriend by @hanji-is-life

*Dumb slut Bakugo by @ihatebnha

*villian!Bakugo takes you in an alleyway by @lookslikeleese

*the folly of man by @dymphnasprose Todoroki x reader: Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss.

*toshinori as a lover by @spacelabrathor

at my worst by @hiiraya Wanda Maximoff x reader: Slow dancing in the kitchen with Wanda.

wanda + pianist au by @helahades

Fireman Sam by @buckysknifecollection Firefighter!Sam Wilson x reader: You visit the local police station and catch the eye of a certain firefighter.

*size kink with geralt by @lovely-cryptid

*Heat by fettsvette Boba Fett x reader: Set after the second season of The Mandalorian. Boba Fett takes you on a faraway hunt that involves a prolonged journey through hyperspace. You’re horny as fuck, but your man is too preoccupied with running a tight ship to pay you any mind - until things get a little too desperate.

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