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creature-wizard · 2 months

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Looks like it's time to talk about starseeds and the New Age movement again.

Since I'm seeing more starseed content being posted, I'm gonna make another post on why the whole starseed thing and the surrounding New Age belief system are... not good.

So for those who don't know, New Age mythology is essentially a hodgepodge of cherrypicked and distorted myths from various cultures, racist pseudohistory, and far right conspiracy theories. To put it very briefly, starseeds are supposedly here to help Earth resist the reptilians, a race of politics-manipulating, war-starting, media-controlling blood-drinking aliens. For those who don't recognize the tropes here, these are basically all antisemitic canards. The reptilian alien myth as most know it today comes from David Icke, who ultimately cribbed a bunch of his material from The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, a Russian hoax created to justify violence against Jews. He was also influenced by the work of people like Fritz Springmeier, a hateful crank who based much of his work on other hateful cranks.

(David Icke, by the way, also claims that transgender is an evil reptilian conspiracy. You'll never find just one form of bigotry with these people.)

There are supposedly numerous alien races out there, and one of the most prominent among them are the Pleiadians, AKA Nordics. While modern depictions of the Pleiadians give them more variety in skintone, there's no denying that older Pleiadian mythology basically pictured them as Aryans In Space, even associating them with the swastika.

You see what's going on here? "Good" swastika-loving Aryan aliens versus "evil" Jewish aliens? Sound familiar?

Racism isn't just a tangential part of the starseed myth, either. It lies at its very core. It's inextricably tied in with the ancient astronaut hypothesis, which has a history of racist motivation behind it. The TL;DR is that a bunch of white people couldn't believe that non-white people had built a bunch of things they couldn't figure out how to build themselves (EG, the Great Pyramids), so they proposed that the real builders were anyone from Atlanteans to aliens. (Atlantis, by the way, never existed; it was a literary device created by Plato.)

One supposed purpose of starseeds is to help the world "wake up to the truth," which basically just means "convert people to New Age spirituality." New Age believes that world peace is contingent on a majority of the world being converted to New Age belief, and that resistance against their belief system is ultimately the work of the aforementioned reptilian aliens.

To put it another way, New Agers think they understand other cultures' spiritual traditions better than the actual members of said cultures, and think that anyone who disagrees with them is being manipulated by the conspiracy, or is an agent of the conspiracy. This includes Indigenous cultures which are already endangered from white Christian colonialism.

Essentially, endangered cultures cannot speak up for themselves and resist New Agers' efforts at cultural assimilation without being labeled a problem and an enemy. It's basically white Christian colonialism repackaged as "spiritual, not religious."

Again - if you heard from these people that some ancient text or myth describes extraterrestrial beings visiting our planet for one reason or another, you heard misinformation. They twist and misrepresent literally every myth and text they get their hands on. For example, you may have heard that the vimanas from Hindu traditions were actually alien spacecraft. They were no such thing. Or maybe you heard that the Book of Enoch describes aliens performing genetic experimentation on humans. It literally does not. At best, all of the stories they cite just kind of sound like aliens if you ignore most of their content and pay no attention to their cultural contexts.

The starseed movement preys on alienated people, especially autistic people and people with ADHD. You can look up nearly any list of signs that you're supposedly a starseed, and many of them will align perfectly with characteristics associated with autism and/or ADHD, or that people with these conditions commonly report. Some people within the movement even go so far as to claim that ADHD and autism don't even exist, but were actually made up by the conspiracy as a cover to suppress and control starseeds, which is some yikes-as-hell ableism.

So basically, people are being told that if they have these certain characteristics or symptoms, that means it's their job to spread New Age spirituality to defeat the conspiracy and help others ascend to the fifth density.

And what's the fifth density, you might ask? It's supposedly humanity's next evolutionary level, because New Age is also based on biological misconceptions. Supposedly once everyone's DNA "upgrades," they'll essentially morph into an aetheric form. Supposedly, this is preceded by a number of "ascension symptoms," including depression, headache, gastrointestinal issues, and any number of other symptoms that could indicate almost anything, including stress.

What many of these people don't realize is, this prediction has already failed. Back in the 2000s and 2010s, experiencing "ascension symptoms" was supposed to precede ascension to 5D beginning December 21, 2012. One lady, Denise Le Fay, was convinced that the hair loss she was experiencing in 2008 was an ascension symptom. As we can see by looking her up, she's very much still with us on the 3D plane these days, repeating the same tired old scripts New Agers recycle endlessly.

By the way, everything you near New Agers saying today about old systems being dismantled, dark forces being arrested or kicked off the planet, and new economic systems on the horizon? They've been recycling these scripts for years now. Take a look at this page written back in 2012. You got stuff about the complete dismantling of an enormous network of sinister forces," "the arrest and removal of a world-wide cabal," and a "new economic system."

("Cabal," by the way, is a dogwhistle term for "Jews.")

Furthermore, people in this movement are often encouraged to try and access past life memories through dreams or hypnosis, which makes the whole thing feel even more real to them. But the thing is, you can have incredibly vivid experiences about literally anything you put your mind to - the people in the reality shifting having vivid experiences of living another life in the Harry Potter universe are a great example of this. Just because you have vivid experiences, doesn't mean they have any bearing on anything happening in this reality.

So yeah, the starseed movement and the larger New Age movement are both extremely harmful. They promote racist pseudohistory, medically-irresponsible pseudoscience, conspiracy theories that target numerous marginalized groups, and functionally target aliened people with ADHD and autism to convince them that spreading its beliefs is their job.

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writingouthere · 5 months

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neighbor!sukuna who meets you and your daughter and knows he's fucked absolutely immediately

cw: fluff but then some lowkey implied murder(he's still Sukuna)

Sukuna didn't usually pay much attention to the other tenants who lived in his building. There had to be over 100 apartments in the building and it wasn't the type of place people stayed longterm. Gentrification was only in it's earliest stages, so the rent was still mostly affordable, there were only two bars selling $18 cocktails in the neighborhood and he could sometimes go whole mornings without seeing loser dads with strollers, but he knew it was only a matter of time.

In conclusion, he didn't give a fuck about knowing who his neighbors were.

That truth struggled to hold up when he was exiting his apartment one Saturday morning and he saw you opening the door across from him. He knew that someone new had moved in the week before, he heard the loud movement of boxes and laughing friends. He was also pretty sure that there was a kid living there too based off the babbling he heard sometimes in the evening when he came home.

Sure enough, coming out behind you was a little girl with your hair and someone else's eyes. You were both wearing jeans and puffy coats in preparation for heading outside and Sukuna might have just continued on his way out with not even a nod of acknowledgment, if you hadn't happened to look up from where you grabbing your keys just in time to meet his eyes.

"Hi," you said, locking your door before turning to face him completely. Your little girl clung to your legs below you and Sukuna felt his chest fill with an overwhelming sense of doom.

"You must be our neighbor, it's nice to meet you," you held out the hand not placed on the top of your daughter's head and when Sukuna grabbed it, he felt like the world might have tilted on it's axis or maybe he was having a stroke.

He heard you introduce yourself over the rushing sound in his ear and he felt his eyes drift over to your left hand, the one gently resting on your daughter, who was looking up at him with wide, awed eyes.

It wouldn't have mattered, whether you had a ring on your finger or not, but the clear lack of one would certainly speed up what Sukuna had already grieved as an inevitability when he brought his eyes back to meet yours.

"Ryomen Sukuna, but please just call me Sukuna."

Fast forward two years and the two of you are married with an infant and another baby on the way in addition to your daughter who Sukuna spoils just absolutely rotten. Your daughter calls him 'dad' and you think it's nice especially after your ex disappeared just a few months after you met Sukuna.

#sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna

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hearts-are-connected · 8 days

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Dang it, I love this ship and I love the enemies to lovers trope. I get that a lot of people see them as a surrogate father and daughter relationship, but it feels like a been there/done that kinda thing.

As much as I love that trope, I'm also a little tired of it. There's only so much Last of Us style found family I take after seeing it for so many years.

The thing I love about VaultGhoul or Ghoulcy is the idea of Lucy breaking down of Cooper's walls while he helps build hers up.

Is he incredibly cruel to her and those around him in the first season? Yes, extremely

Does he need to chill out and find some of his humanity that's been buried under 200+ years of wasteland survival and bitterness? Yes

Who can bring that needed direction to his life while learning the ways of the new world she finds herself in? Lucy MacLean

I know that the canon ship of the show at this moment is Lucy and Maximus, and as much as I love him, I find the pairing obvious and kind of boring from a story telling perspective. I loved it on my first viewing, but upon re-watching the series, I wasn't as behind it as before. I see their relationship, kiss and all, as a kind of first fling for the both of them.

While it doesn't diminish the care they show one another, there's not a lot behind them as a couple. Now I know that some people might turn around to say how she and Cooper spent less time together than her and Max, but I guess the thing I look forward to is seeing what their relationship brings with the second season.

I feel like Max and Lucy will have a great friendship and I'm interested to see where the Brotherhood fits into their dynamic as well.

With Cooper though, I find his story so tragic, as it's supposed to be. He's your standard hardened survivor who only looks out for himself that's now stuck with the happy-go-lucky main character, however, she's not that character anymore by the end. She's still going to be the Lucy we love, but she's changed by the end. While not losing her compassion and some optimism, I think Cooper is going to bring out a harsher side to her as we saw when she bit off his finger.

I want to see her building up her walls and learning when to let them down. How to truly survive while still bringing her own energy to the wasteland and people around her. I want to see Cooper regaining some lost humanity while learning to truly care for another person again. To see the two of them as eventual equals in one another's eyes as they continue on their journey as reluctant allies.

I also want to say that I'm personally kind of tired of the 'age gap' argument. We have stories of teenagers falling in love with hundred year old vampires. So can we just drop the age gap thing?

As long as they're both consenting adults who understand what they're getting themselves into, who cares about an age gap.

Does it truly matter in the scheme of things when we're talking about a world with cryo-stasis and super mutants?

I personally don't think so.

I don't know if anyone will even bother reading this entire thing, and I know I went on a little long, but I wanted to write down my thoughts on the whole shipping situation with the Fallout TV show fandom at this moment.

I'm a VaultGhoul shipper and I can't wait to see where the second season takes our main trio of characters.

#fallout show #fallout amazon #ghoulcy #lucy x cooper #vaultghoul #cooper howard #lucy maclean #a ghoul and his girl #a girl and her ghoul #I ship it #Can't wait for season 2

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kcrossvine-art · 1 month

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Hi fellow adventurers!! Welcome to chapter 2! We're going to be attempting a nice lil fruit-focused quiche/frittata/pie thing. And yes, tomatoes are fruits.

Who says you cant eat totally normal things in a dungeon with definitely no monsters in them?

You know what that means; Man-Eating Plant Tart!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Man-Eating Plant Tart?” YOU MIGHT ASKThe way its prepared in the show is akin to a frittata, but the crust is borrowed from quiche world.

Eggs

Whole milk

Bell peppers

Persimmons

Cherry tomatoes

Pitted green olives

Thinly sliced OR shredded sweet potatos

Salt

Pepper

In the show they use leftover hotpot stock, slime, and mashed up fruit as the batter ingredients. Fruit mush is easy to work with but I couldn't find any stand-in for slime that would cook correctly into what they made in the show, and the hotpot stock is just not thick enough to carry the base. It is too many watery ingredients at once. Needing a thickening agent, both gelatin and agar agar were tried. It was edible but the texture was… gelatinous. Regular egg and milk will serve for our purposes.

The next complication was the crust- so in the show its made with the skins of fruit, straightforward yeah? Well. You see it also has to be 1. Thick enough to bake without burning 2. Harden through cooking to be sliced and held and 3. Inedible. Lotus leaves? Plantain leaves? Really thin gourds? I couldnt find any historical basis for a savory food cooked in this method, or similar method, with an intentionally inedible crust. I could find a few dishes which used leaves as their crust, but none that hardened during cooking and even less that used fruit skin. I chose sweet potato skin for its visual match and texture. It is edible, and it is not a fruit.

I hope youll forgive me for these 2 major deviations as i wanted to keep it looking how it does in the show while also ensuring it tastes good.

AND, “what does a Man-Eating Plant Tart taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKFluffy, airy, savory, salty.

The density of the eggs is offset by the crisp fruits

And the saltiness doesnt overpower the remnant fruit-sweetness

(If you eat the crust) the sweet potato brings this nice muted, smokey, flavor

Spongecake-esque in consistency

Would pair well with cranberry or strawberry juice

Would also pair well with a mellow hot sauce?

. You can use heavy cream instead of milk for a creamier batter . Roast the fruit longer to remove more liquid if too wet (and vice versa if too dry) . Smoked paprika, pepper flakes, cumin, garlic powder, and onion powder would taste good in the mixture

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"A mixture of mashed up and cut up Man-Eating Plant fruit, slime and scorpion soup is poured into a pan lined with the flattened peel of the fruit and cooked before garnishing with some more fruit. Described as salty by the group."

From start to finish this recipe took 3-ish hours? Shredding the potatoes took the longest, so if you get them bagged itd be cut down. A very filling recipe and a good way to sneak veggies/fruits in if you have a hard time getting enough of those essential nutrients. The best advice i can give is to add salt/seasonings at every stage of the process, to build up layers. It makes a difference flavor-wise (even if its just salt). I advise against reheating if possible. The filling will make the crust soggy over time.

If you want to be closer to the cooking of the show, you could double the fruit amounts and mash them together while halving the amount of egg and milk. I hadnt tried due to budget reasons, but it should work with some finangling. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys with how todays recipe turned out <333

What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do better, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

3 Eggs

13oz whole milk

2 bell peppers

2 small persimmons

140oz cherry tomatoes

12oz pitted green olives

34oz thinly sliced OR shredded sweet potatos

Salt

Pepper

Method:

Heat oven to 420f and grease a 9-inch pie pan.

Thinly slice (or shred) your sweet potatoes and squeeze out any excess moisture. Coat in olive oil, salt and pepper.

Press sweet potato mixture evenly into and up the sides of the pie pan.

Blind bake for roughly 25 minutes or until lightly golden-brown. No worries if the edges get crisp.

Remove pie pan from oven and set aside.

Core and chop up your bell peppers and persimmons. Coat with olive oil, salt, and pepper.

Line out on a baking sheet, evenly spaced, and roast for roughly 20 minutes or until softened. (you can do this at the same time on a separate rack from the pie crust if you have room)

Remove the stems from your cherry tomatoes, and drain/dry your green olives if canned.

Bring a frying pan to medium heat with olive oil. Add the green olives and sautee until their skin texture starts dimpling. Add the cherry tomatoes and continue sauteeing for about 5 minutes or until lightly browned.

Once the bell peppers, persimmons, cherry tomatoes, and green olives are all done, set aside to cool until just above room temp.

Lower the oven temperature to 350f.

In a mixing bowl combine your eggs and milk, add salt to taste. If you want other seasonings nows a good time!

Once uniform in color and texture, add your cooked fruit. Stir until evenly distributed.

Pour mixture into the potato pie crust.

Bake for roughly 40 minutes. The filling should be mostly firm, but wiggle *slightly* when you shake the pan.

Remove from oven and let rest for roughly 15 minutes before serving.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #cooking recipes #digital art

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satoruhour · 7 months

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a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me

the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.

when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.

gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—

“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.

it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.

gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.

he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.

you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.

“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.

and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.

not like this.

“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.

“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most.

“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.

“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”

“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.

“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.

“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.

“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.

but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.

the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.

satoru gives you three squeezes.

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moog-rt · 3 months

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GO TO HELL [ch. 1]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Prologue

➨ Chapter One

Next: Chapter Two

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): blood, gore, cannon-typical violence

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER ONE

Your head throbbed, and cradling it with your hand only turned it into a piercing pain rather than dulling it.

You were careful as you worked to stand up. It was hard to grab hold of anything sturdy enough to support your weight, and upon closer inspection, it turned out you were taking a power nap in a pile of garbage. And, boy, was that shit rank.

You stumbled your way onto solid ground whilst picking gunk-covered plastic from your shirt and hair.

The surroundings that greeted you were unlike anything you could imagine. The sky appeared polluted with red smog so thick you couldn’t see the sun, though it didn’t smell like the kind of pollution you were used to. Rather than chemical, it stank of smoke and decay.

Every breath you took of this new atmosphere felt thick and raspy. You weren’t sure you could really even consider it breathable. You were probably inhaling a handful of carcinogens by the second.

From what you could see through the gap of the two buildings that made up the alley you were in, there was a city. It was as if the materials of the buildings were selected to complement the sky. Everything was a different shade of red or burgundy. The plumes of smoke that tunneled up in the distance were mildly concerning, though they didn’t seem to be an immediate threat.

It was all enough to drive a clear sense of dread through your gut. No way in Hell were you supposed to be here. You should be on your way to Devon’s place- No, you were at Devon’s place, in their living room.

And now you were…well, you didn’t really know. That was kind of the problem.

The panic only truly set in after you tripped, scraping your knees on the filthy cement. You didn’t want to know what caused that dark brown, slightly chunky stain. Turning to face the lump that caused your stumble, your stomach plummeted. Face paled.

That was a corpse. A whole not-so-human corpse. Mangled and lying motionless in a pool of blood that was beginning to dry.

In an instant, you threw yourself off of the ground, backpedaling away from the body. What on Earth could have caused their limbs to bend in so many directions? On second thought, you hoped it would stay a mystery.

You couldn’t ruminate on it for long before you felt something large grab your shoulder, hoisting you around so your back was facing the alley. You winced as the grip grew tighter and looked up to see a green-skinned man with jagged teeth protruding from his mouth.

In that instant, it felt as if your heart had been launched a thousand feet in the air.

His pitch-black eyes narrowed as he leaned closer to your face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move or utter a single word. His grip moved to your neck, turning your head around so he could see you from every angle. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, he brought his nose to your cheek and inhaled deeply.

“A human,” he said in a grumbly voice. You could see a corner of his lips curl into a wicked smile. “That’s a first. It’d be a shame to let you go to waste.”

Go. You had to go.

To have a freeze-response in a situation like this was a death sentence. You hadn’t the slightest clue what this man’s–this thing’s–intentions were with you, but you had an inkling that it wouldn’t be pleasant.

You had to move. Even if it was just an inch, just enough to convince yourself that you still could. You would take either fight or flight over this.

“Is that soul still living?”

Your eyes flicked over to the source of the new voice. A tall, reptilian-looking creature with eyes that seemed to be bugging out of its head. They were no more comforting than the man who was only a few inches away from strangling you.

“Fuck off! I found ‘er. She’s mine!” Apparently, the lizard-man was enough to draw your assailant’s attention away from you.

Lizard-man did not in fact fuck off. That response was the confirmation that only further drew him in. Looking around, you noticed other inhuman creatures turning their attention toward the three of you.

The lizard-man made a sudden lunge for you, digging claws into the green man’s arms. He hollered out in pain with an endless string of curses.

In that moment, you felt his grip on you loosen, and you dropped to the ground like dead weight. This was your chance. Likely your only chance before both of them pounced on you at once. Maybe more by the looks of the other creatures closing in, as well.

Relief washed over you as you slowly moved your arm to push you up. The mental confines over your body had been released, and just in time. You were able to clumsily roll out of the way as the men threw each other to the ground, and with wobbly legs, you promptly hauled ass out of there.

You could hear screams of rage and surprise as you shoved through the people on the street, apologizing occasionally. You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes burning into the back of your head, and you were almost certain that some had given chase.

The odd buildings blurred past you. You may have caught a glimpse of a shop with televisions on display and another that looked as though human limbs were hanging on meat hooks, but this was no time for window shopping. All of it caused your head to spin from both physical and emotional whiplash.

The first corner you turned revealed a massive light-up sign that towered above everything else with text saying, “Welcome to Hell.”

What kind of twisted joke was this?

You ducked into another alleyway. Nobody was around, but you could still hear yelling close behind you. Your heart felt as though it stopped for a second as you took notice of a massive barricade blocking off the only exit. The first sliver of your luck finally showed itself to you in the form of a small gap that could be just big enough for you to fit.

You were forced to slow down in order to wiggle your way through it, allowing your pursuers to catch up. Just when you thought you had cleared the blockade, that big green hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back.

You cried out and pulled as much as you could until your foot slid out of your sock, successfully freeing you. Padding barefoot through this wretched city wouldn’t be pleasant, but you were sure it was better than whatever those things had planned for you.

As you pushed back into a sprint, you heard the green man’s voice screaming at the others about how he wouldn’t let them through before him. That was fine by you. He was much too big to fit through that hole, and you doubted he could scale the wall completely. If he was dead set on not letting anyone pass before him, then you probably had all the time in the world. Even so, you wouldn’t feel safe until you could get as far as your legs could carry you.

So, ignoring your burning lungs and pounding heart, you pushed forward. Through the streets that grew more and more disheveled, collapsed buildings, cracked and upheaved asphalt roads. The lack of shoes only made it that much worse as your feet were getting sore. You were slowing down, but you refused to stop until you found someplace suitable to take refuge.

After the last main row of the city, there was a hill. And on top of that hill, there was a hotel.

Or so the sign on it said. Happy Hotel.

You could tell it was probably supposed to light up, but it wasn’t on, either because it was daytime (you assumed) or the bulbs were burnt out. Both seemed equally likely. The place was massive but appeared to be a hodgepodge of things all shoved into one, a cruise ship crashed into one side, a train on top of the roof… But despite its general run-down appearance, the stained glass windows remained untouched as if they were brand new.

It would be a gamble on whether this place was inhabited or not, but at least it was out of that shit show of a city. Probably the safest thing you’d come across thus far.

Besides, it was a hotel. Maybe you still had one of your cards in your pocket. If not, there was always Apple Pay, right?

The final push up the hill really did you in, leaving you panting and covered in sweat at the front door. You were dying to sit down and rest, but you wouldn’t feel comfortable doing so until you were inside.

Seeing the building up close left you even more confused about whether or not the place was still running. The majority of the double front doors were stained glass with an apple shape in the center of each. It was quite beautiful. But at the same time, the edges of the frame appeared chipped and rotted, showing the building’s true age.

You were just thankful when the door creaked open without a fight. You didn’t want to resort to breaking in through one of those wonderful windows. With how loud it would be, you might as well scream out your arrival.

Aside from some of the detailed woodwork and repetitive apple iconography, the inside of the hotel was a bit sad to put it frankly. Little to no furniture. Cobwebs coating everything. The chandelier holding on by a thread (maybe the cobwebs were preventing it from falling). There was a minifridge, though!

You couldn’t imagine you would be lucky enough to find a cold bottle of water in there, but you decided to check to be sure. The cool air alone, wafting out as you opened its door, alleviated some of your discomfort. Unfortunately, there was no water or any beverage, for that matter. Inside were a couple of applesauce(?) cups and a styrofoam take-out container.

The fact that there was anything at all was concerning as it was a bit of confirmation there were already inhabitants. You would need to keep looking for a safe place to stay unless they ended up being the odd few in this town that weren’t out for blood.

On cue, cool metal prodded the back of your neck as you were closing the fridge, and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” asked the person behind you. Their voice was cold and harsh, and it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. So much for going unscathed.

“I was just looking for somewhere to rest. I’m sorry for intruding,” you said just above a whisper, raising your hands instinctively.

“You want to stay here?” a chipper voice cut through the air, echoing a bit in the large, empty foyer. They sounded almost happy you were trespassing. “Vaggie, this could be our first guest!”

“Babe, the hotel isn’t even open yet,” the first voice sighed before the metal was pulled away from your skin. You took that as an invitation to turn around.

Before you stood two young women–you’d guess late teens or early twenties. They were the most human-like people you had the pleasure of coming across since waking up in a hot pile of garbage. The only thing that threw you off was their grey and porcelain white skin tones. It was as if they were pulled out of a black-and-white movie from the ‘50s.

You’d take what you could get at this point. At least they didn’t have scales.

“We’ll just have to move up our grand opening then,” the taller girl sang with a wide, sharp-toothed grin. She bounded over to you, squatting down to meet you at eye level. “Would you be interested in a shot at redemption? It doesn’t matter what you’ve stolen or who you’ve murdered. Everyone deserves a second chance!”

Was this chick for real? What did redemption have to do with a hotel? And why would you need to be redeemed?

Your mouth hung open as your eyes bobbed between the two strangers.

“Wait a second…” The shorter girl–who you realized was the one holding a fucking spear to your neck–suddenly went wide-eyed. “You’re a human. Jesus, she’s a human!”

The blonde stared at her for a moment before turning back to you with knit eyebrows.

“Really? How do you know?” she asked with a tilt of her head as her eyes darted all over you, looking for some tell-tale sign of your humanity.

In what world is it surprising to see a human? You hadn’t been shipped to Mars. That you were certain of.

Then you came to your own realization.

Devon must have drugged you! That was the only way this could make any sense. Was it acid? LSD? You’d have to ask them after you sobered up. Or maybe after you wring their scrawny little neck, because the therapy you’d need after this was sure to cost a fortune.

The hand that landed on your shoulder caused you to flinch. The shorter girl–Vaggie–was kneeling in front of you now. Her touch was delicate as if she was worried she’d break you if she put enough pressure. A stark contrast to the way she treated you a minute ago.

“How did you get here?” she asked in a much softer tone than earlier.

You let out a huff of air, a sorry excuse for a laugh. You smiled, shaking your head as your body slumped back against the fridge.

“I don’t even know where here is,” you laughed. “I was in my friend’s apartment one second and being hunted down by a mob of demons the next.”

The two exchanged a look before helping you to your feet. They settled you down on a couch, one of the few pieces of furniture they had, and got you a glass of water to sip on. The scrapes and cuts you had gotten during your chase, or possibly before it, were treated to, as well. The foot that lost its sock was particularly nasty.

They introduced themselves and explained that you were in Hell. You reckon you should have figured that one out from the big-ass sign you saw while running for your life.

In return, you told them the last few things you could remember before ending up here. Helping your friend with a demon-summoning ritual and getting dragged through a glowing hole in the ground as a result.

“Sounds like that backfired a bit,” Vaggie said. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah, a bit. That’s what I get for doing my friend a solid, I guess,” you shrugged, leaning back as you gulped down more of the water.

“Oh, don’t say that. At the end of the day, you helped a friend, and you found us! And we’ll definitely make sure you get home safe and sound,” Charlie grinned as she gently placed a hand on your knee.

You gave a small smile in return. You’re not sure how much you believed in her words, but it was sweet of her to try to reassure you. Her hope was almost infectious, and you could use as much of that as you could get.

“Also, you’re totally welcome to stay here for as long as you need! We’ve got plenty of rooms, and I’m sure we’ll start getting more furniture soon, and if there’s any food you’d like us to get, we can–”

“Baby, slow down,” Vaggie chuckled.

“Sorry…I guess I’m just really excited. You would be our first guest, and I’ve also never seen a human other than my mom before, and even she’s a special case…” Charlie said, looking off to the side as she brushed a blonde strand of hair behind her ear.

“The only humans we technically have are the ones that die and are deemed sinners,” Vaggie explained. “But they take on a new appearance. Usually, it reflects something within their soul.”

Huh.

“That’s…interesting,” you said, eyebrows tightly furrowed together. What does being a lizard man say about that dude’s soul? And what about being green? Maybe it was his favorite color? Or maybe he was green with envy. Haha.

“So what do you say?”

You looked at Charlie to see her holding her hand out to you. If the two of you were making a deal, she wasn’t really getting anything out of it. It was pure charity work…

“Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do for you in return,” you said, taking her hand.

With that, the two young women gave you a brief tour of the hotel. It was still a work in progress, but you could see Charlie’s vision. If they just cleaned it up a bit and filled in the space, it would look livable. You would be more than happy to help with that if you ended up spending enough time there, though you hoped it wouldn’t take that long.

If you weren’t back soon, your place would start getting cobwebs. You also couldn’t miss too many days of work…PTO wasn’t infinite, and you had bills to pay. Your coworkers would also have it out for you if you left them short-staffed.

What if they started putting up missing flyers? Hopefully, they wouldn’t blame the coworker you convinced to go home early. She was the last person you were spotted with in public, after all. No one knew you were going to Devon’s, so it was unlikely they’d take the blame.

Maybe the guy you had been in a situationship with for the last several months would be their suspect. Most of your friends knew all about him (primarily because you’d bitch and whine so much), and it’s not uncommon for people to point fingers at the ‘partner.’

He raised a few red flags here and there, sure, but what man hasn’t? None of them were even close to kidnap-murder level. Mostly just picking his toes in public and swearing on his life that his exes were the crazy ones, not him. Nothing necessarily surprising.

You needed to stop worrying and start embodying Charlie’s confidence in the situation. You would find a way to get back. You would not be stuck in Hell long enough to raise alarm. You just had to manifest it!

Eventually, your hosts showed you to the room you could stay in. It was one of the few furnished ones besides their room at the moment. They also gave you a change of clothes after realizing just how dirty (and smelly) yours were after waking up in a trash heap. Plus, you had two socks again!

You met back up with them in the foyer when you were finished. They wanted to discuss possible ways you could get out of Hell, which you had absolutely no problem with. The two of them brainstormed for a bit while you just sat back and listened in. Vaggie brought up that some upper-class ‘hellborns’ had ways in and out of Hell, but she didn’t have any specifics.

You felt bad not contributing, but what did you know about traveling between the living world and Hell? Jack, that’s what.

“Do you think your dad would know? He’s probably had to get to Earth for some reason or another, yeah?” Vaggie asked, but she was met with a grumble of a response.

“I don’t know…” Charlie said with a frown, all her hopeful energy zapped away in an instant. “He’s never been super helpful with stuff like this.”

“Come on, babe. If anybody would know, it would be him,” Vaggie pressed. “He’s gotta have something we could use.”

Charlie simply groaned as she threw her upper body over the arm of the sofa and sat like that for a minute or two. It was possible that she wasn’t on very good terms with her father. Or he was just exasperating to deal with.

You sent a worried look at Vaggie, because what were you supposed to do in this situation?

“Okay, yeah. We can swing by my old house tomorrow and poke around,” Charlie said as she stood up.

“Great, but you,” Vaggie jabbed her finger in your direction. “Get ready to wake up bright and early. We’ll have to make you presentable first.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Next Chapter

#Lucifer Magne #Lucifer Morningstar #Lucifer Magne x Reader #Lucifer Morningstar x Reader #female reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #Charlie Magne #Charlie Morningstar #Demon Summoning #Occult #once again i am so sorry there is no lucifer this chapter either #i swear he will be in the next one #pinky promise

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sssilverstoned · 3 months

Text

couples quiz ꩜ ln4

type: transcription from a youtube video

The GQ couples quiz goes precisely how you both, and your PR teams, expect it to

lily said: i just love world building (even if im not the best at it) so i can't ever leave a concept or pairing alone, so it goes!

part 1 part 2 part 3 2.5ish interlude

Y/N: Why do I feel like I left the oven on in the kitchen?

Lando: Well, because you did. I turned it off on our way out, don't worry about it.

y/n turns to the camera with a bright smile, and lando smiles at the sight of her own.

Y/N: My hero, everyone!

Y/N: And um, I guess we're getting started now? So hi, I'm Y/N L/N, a model and creative director currently based out of Europe.

Lando: And I'm Lando Norris, a driver for McLaren Racing's Formula 1 Team, and this is the GQ couples quiz. And if I may add, I absolutely think I'm going to win.

Y/N: I'm not even dignifying that with banter.

lando turns to the camera, an eyebrow raised.

Lando: Fun fact: Y/N's quite genuinely the most competitive person I've met in my entire life.

y/n's jaw drops with a scoff.

Y/N: No shot! You race for a living, for crying out loud.

Lando: Trust me, Love, you take the cake.

y/n rolls her eyes with no charge, a smile still on both of their faces and small looks exchanged between the two of them,

Y/N: Alright, you first. What's my favorite color?

Lando: (your favorite color), easy. it's the color of your phone case right now too.

Y/N: Yup. What's my favorite place I've traveled?

Lando: You loved Venice, no?

y/n winces, weighing her hands back and forth.

Y/N: I did, but that's not my favorite. In my whole life, I'd say,

Both: Jamaica!

they laugh at their unison.

Lando: And I knew that, I knew that! Because of your grandparents.

y/n nods fondly, giggling at how lando beats himself up about getting one wrong.

Y/N: Alright, what am I most scared of?

Lando: You're petrified of spiders.

y/n gags, and shudders.

Y/N: Don't even get me started.

lando turns to the camera with a faux look of exhaustion.

Lando: This girl refused to go into our bedroom for 3 hours once when I was out because there was a spider on the vanity.

Y/N: Whatever. Where did I go to school?

Lando: Switzerland and New York, very posh.

Y/N: You're calling me posh?

Lando: Can't the pot and the kettle both be black?

a producer bursts out in laughter in the background, making the couple do the same. there's a fondness in both their eyes as they double over in laughter.

Y/N: Okay, okay, almost done. What food do I love and hate?

Lando: You hate mushrooms, and for some reason, you really don't like salmon. As for what you do like, you get stir-fry and noodles a lot, but only from specific places. And you love tomato soup, that's the number one.

Y/N: Right again, nice baby! You make a good one now, by the way.

he winks at her.

Y/N: Who is my celebrity crush?

lando scoffs.

Lando: Dylan O'Brien.

Y/N: Forever and ever. My birthday?

Lando: March 10th, a spicy pisces, as you say.

Y/N: Hey, Olivia Rodrigo herself called me that.

Lando: And what about Scorpios?

Y/N: Nope, not your turn yet, I've got one last question.

lando takes a dramatic breath.

Lando: Alright, hit me with it.

Y/N: Where did we go on our first date?

a big smile grows on lando's face.

Lando: We went to a music show one of our friends recommended, and we both thought it was awful but didn't say anything because we didn't want to leave and have the date be over, so we listened to the most shit jazz music for an hour and a half just to be around each other.

Y/N: Best result from the worst music I've ever heard.

Lando: Ditto. Now, hand me the cards, yeah? I'm about to stump you so good.

the camera transitions to y/n now in the hotseat answering questions, lando teasingly taking his job very seriously with the question cards.

Lando: Alright. Where am I from?

Y/N: Bristol, thought you said you'd stump me?

Lando: This is literally question 1?

lando turns to the producers.

Lando: You see what I mean? Ferocious.

Lando: Moving on, what is our favorite show to watch together?

Y/N: We're rewatching Prison Break, so I'd say that?

Lando: I'll give you that one. Ugh, what was I wearing when we first met? Fucks sake, can we skip this one?

y/n sputters over him.

Y/N: Absolutely not, we're not skipping over this!

Lando: Oh come on, Love-

Y/N: I swear to you, the very first time I met Lando, he came to my 18th birthday party in a full on basketball kit!

Lando: I was told it was "Space Jam" themed!

Y/N: As in dress like you're in space, you fool! Not the Michael Jordan and Bugs Bunny movie!

Lando: Needless to say, I was mortified. Seems like she still thought I was cute though, no?

another wink is sent to the camera.

Lando: What's your biggest pet peeve about me?

Y/N: You spoil everything. I can't ever watch a show or a movie without you walking in and going, "Oh, this is the episode before he dies." Like? Who does that?

Lando: Yeah, ah, guilty. Working on it. Eh, not really. What's my nickname for you?

Y/N: Cradle robber.

another producer reacts to this. a sputtering shock of laugh. "you call her WHAT?"

Y/N: We're the same age, mind you.

Lando: Wrong, you've been alive 8 months longer than me on this planet! 3/4 of a year, mind you. But I've got real nicknames for you.

Y/N: Yeah, you do. You call me Love, more than you say my name, so it always feels odd when you do say it.

lando doesn't respond with his voice, but the fond look in his eyes and nod at her answer.

Lando: What irritates me the most?

Y/N: About me? Or, like, in life?

Lando: Life, nothing irritates me about you.

Y/N: Oh, please. But, in life, you're pretty irritable when it comes to selfish people. You've always been like that, though, very compassionate and not a fan of people who aren't.

Lando: Very true, never thought of it like that, I guess. Just don't be an asshole, you know?

Y/N: See? Irritated.

Lando: Anyway. We're on our last question, so I guess you've won because it's not a point question.

Y/N: I won't rub this one in your face, just because you've been a great interviewer.

he gives her a gracious nod, and y/n rolls her eyes.

Lando: You'll never ever know how grateful I am. Final Question, what's something that you weren't expecting about me that you love about me?

Y/N: Oh goodness, are you wanting me to cry? Well, I think something that was initially a hard adjustment was the intensity of your racing schedule, and doing long distance sometimes. We don't really see each other sometimes, but when we do, you always sleep in. And at first it was really annoying to me, because we only have like, 3 days together, wake up! Let's do something! But once you told me that you let yourself sleep in on those days because it's a time to just, be, and we can do it together. So I guess my answer is, I wasn't expecting to love how much you love little moments. You've taught me to be grateful for things we take for granted, and I don't know, I think it's helped me through a lot.

lando stays still for a bit, an adoring look on his face as his eyes swell with what we think were happy tears. we're hoping so, at least.

Lando: I can't wait to marry you one day.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #f1 instagram au #social media au

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teaboot · 5 months

Note

What are "transmasc" and "genderqueer"?

I just woke up so bear with me, but like

Western society has invented this idea of "man" and "woman", right? And we SAY it's actually real, and based on tangible things like sex characteristics- primary, like dicks n' hoo-has- and secondary, like tiddies an facial hair an cellulite.

Well, it turns out that those things ain't divided "correctly" into the man and woman categories all the time.

People with dicks sometimes get tiddies, people without dicks sometimes grow beards and chest hair, beauty standards like "woman thin and hairless and short with small nose and tiny feet" and "man tall and muscular with a beard and broad shoulders" aren't appearing in nature the way we say they should.

(These gendered standards also change over time, but that's a different post.)

What's more, some people have multiple primary characteristics, and it's not even super rare! (Again, worth a different post, and not one I'm really in a position to make.)

So, we say that we didn't just "invent" two exclusive boxes to sort a wide variety and spectrum of characteristics into by pure brute force, but evidence says otherwise. So do we change the rules of our society to fit that evidence?

No, we pick something else to support our beliefs.

Learning about genes and DNA and chromosomes came much later in the game, so most people's grasp of it is this: Men have XY chromosomes, women have XX chromosomes, and no matter what your body is shaped like, that determines which box you go in. Whatever you look like should be padded or amputated or shaved away until you fit in your box.

Except.... we now know that people who outwardly appear to be the perfect ideal poster children of "man" and "woman" are living full, natural, healthy and unbothered lives totally unaware that they have the "wrong" chromosomes. No visibly "mixed" characteristics at all. So there goes that idea out the window.

Unless we say that no, our invention which is fact still holds up- there's just a few mutants and freaks and dysfunctional anomalies that just sort of happen sometimes, like factory flaws that wouldn't exist if things were running as they should.

So what do we do with factory flaws? We "fix" them. Or pressure them to fix themselves. Or, if they can "pass" one way or another, shove them into that box and tell them to shut up about it. Don't fit into either? Then pick one, and make yourself fit.

But... then, if we can pick... if hairy women with flat chests and small hips can shave themselves down and throw on some padding and powder her face to be accepted.... why can't anyone else?

Or, if that same "woman" went, fuck it, cut his hair short and embraced all the "man" characteristics, went by different pronouns and stepped into the "man" box... wouldn't that be okay, too?

And, he'll, what if they changed nothing about themselves and decided to opt out? We've proven that these "universal facts" don't *actually* exist and exceptions are everywhere, so fuck it, right? "Man" and "woman" don't really mean anything tangible anyways, so why not do what makes you happy?

And since, again, evidence shows that "man" and "women" aren't perfect binary boxes with perfect binary traits- why bother living up to those traits at all? Why can't someone assigned to the "woman" box live in the "man" box with long hair and heels on? If I makes him happy, what's the harm?

We don't like this, though, because when you build two boxes that contain the whole world, and people start escaping, or slipping out to live in the one they like more, or switching, or building their own, people begin to wonder why they're living in boxes at all. If we even need boxes.

And the people who maintain the boxes tell us, it's because the boxes are safe, and the boxes are natural, and the boxes have been here exactly as they are since the beginning of time anyways, and NO, they aren't just terrified of life outside the shelter of the box, you're the weird one.

Meanwhile, if we really looked into it, I imagine we'd find more people who don't fit their box criteria, or don't even like their box, at least as often as we find people who do.

Transgender means "someone who isn't in their assigned box".

Genderqueer means, "someone who isn't in their assigned box", but in a the same broad way that "transgender" is- Maybe a him, maybe a her, maybe both, maybe a they, perhaps a xey, and sometimes some of us move around.

I say I'm genderqueer, 'cause that fits me, but "Transmasc" to me personally means, "I know I'm not a woman, and I'm closer to the "man" box, but I'm happier wandering outside the "man" box than I am stepping fully inside. (Dysphoria is part of that, but again, in my opinion it's not vital to the experience.)

And I'm not one for destroying those two boxes entirely- they bring joy to a lot of people.

Just, you know. Maybe making more, different boxes. And maybe little camps out between them. And not treating people who roam the wilderness instead like rabid animals. Is the thing.

Long answer

#Long post #Text post #Gender #Transgender #Transmasc #Genderqueer #Correct me if I'm wrong I'm not fully awake and also wrong sometimes and also a lil dumb on top o that

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Text

Gojo being your enemy (or lover?)

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?

Warnings: mentions of smut, it's getting heated (intimate touching) but not "real" lol, language

Finally, my first fic after quite some time! Let me thank every single one of you for your patience and sticking with me, I'd be more than honored if you show some love 🤍

„There you are, I searched everywhere for you.”

Just the sound of his melodic voice sends shivers down your spine, makes you break out in sweat. God, it should be forbidden to be this gorgeous, it shouldn’t be allowed for a man to be this charismatic. But oh, Gojo Satoru is. And you hate the way you feel about him.

“And I avoided you as good as I could.”

But at the same time, you can’t keep your mind off him, can’t keep your hands to yourself, can’t stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his delicious jawline, can’t control the urge to get under him. His body pressed against yours, skin to skin while he whispers the filthiest thoughts into your ear until you scream his name into the night.

“You know we’re alone, right?”

The raspy tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up in an instant. You know all too well you shouldn’t even look at him, that you need to keep your safe distance. Why is it so damn hard to resist him? The curse of your family, the enemy of your bloodline. Your family and the Gojo clan hated and fought each other since the beginning of time, making your whole childhood consist of nothing but hatred towards their golden child. But that golden child circles around you like a hunter around its prey, takes off your clothes with the sheer force of his bright blue orbs alone.

“We shouldn’t be.”

Your mouth is dry like the desert, the overwhelming feeling of losing your consciousness eats you up alive. It’s so wrong to stand in front of him, to let him linger over you with his much taller frame. Gojo Satoru is your worst enemy, the one and only thing your family warned you about. Why is it so damn easy to fall head over heels for him?

“You know you can leave anytime. I’m not forcing you to stay with me. But if you do you won’t regret it.”

You swallow down the lump building up inside your throat, doe eyes fixated on his dangerous ones. If they’d see you here, only inches away from the greatest member of the Gojo clan, you’d be screwed to infinity.

“We can’t do this anymore. We’ve already crossed that line way too often. You and me, we are…”

“Enemies, lovers? It’s completely up to you, (y/n). I couldn’t care less about my family’s opinion-“

“You should care, though. Our lives depend on it”, you reply urgently.

“Don’t you know who I am?”

His deep chuckle almost sends you over the edge, the way his eyes linger over you makes you hold your breath. That way too confident bastard who thinks the world belongs to him exclusively, who thinks he’s a god walking on earth. How much you hate his cocky smile, his immense powers, his arrogant appearance. Somehow your family is right for hating him, somehow you get why they want you to stay away from Gojo Satoru.

“You’re an arrogant bastard”, you bite back.

“Watch that mouth, (y/n). Why are you still here, huh? Feel free to leave if you wanna get away from me so bad.”

Your heavy breaths hang in the heated air between both of you. Just one stretch of your finger would be enough for your fingertips to brush over his broad chest. Just one touch would be enough to light the fire between both of you again. Why do your hands start to shake all of the sudden? Why is your heart almost beating out of your chest?

It’s because of him.

“Leave”, you press out while moving an inch forward.

“Just leave and never come back.”

“Or what?”, he breathes out, caging you between the cool wall and his burning body.

Get yourself together, think about your family. Gojo Satoru is your enemy despite being a jujutsu sorcerer as well, you aren’t allowed to even talk to him, you should leave right here and now, you-

“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you roughly.

You press your lips against his as hard as possible, teeth brushing over each other, making your lips swell in an instant. His strong arms are immediately wrapped around your frame, keeping you in place while he teases you with his tongue. Without mercy, over and over. You can’t catch your breath, hands searching for hold on his shoulders.

“I hate you”, you jeer against his parted lips before wrapping your legs around his hips.

“Oh yeah? Then let me show you how much I hate you as well”, he bites back, kissing that sweet spot on your neck that makes you see stars.

You can’t help but moan, press yourself even harder against the growing sensation in his pants, digging your nails into his uniform. God, how much you hate that guy. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t let him come near you, shouldn’t allow him to even touch your body.

Suddenly his hand wanders down your body, further and further until he cups your crotch roughly.

Fuck.

This feels so good.

No, it feels so bad.

“S-Satoru”, you whimper softly.

Your melodic voice sounds like music in his desperate ears, makes his skilled fingers pick up their pace in an instant. Oh, how precious you look with your eyes rolled backwards into your skull, how well his name suits your filthy little mouth.

This. This is right where you belong. Between his arms with his hand between your thighs.

“You like that, huh?”

You press your lips together and close your eyes, try to escape the sensation that builds up inside of you. No, you shouldn’t feel this good, you shouldn’t let him have this much power over your body. Screw Gojo Satoru and his skilled hands, screw that bastard for always making his way into your pants.

“Hell no I don’t.”

“Is that so?”, he teases.

Roughly, he snatches his hand away and cups your cheek, forcing your glossy eyes to look up at him. He looks absolutely delicious with his hair being a wild mess and his puffy lips ready to get kissed again.

No.

You shake your head, avoid his gaze. This is wrong. You shouldn’t even be here. If you leave now and go back to your apartment, you are able to pretend that none of this ever happened. Yes, Gojo Satoru will be nothing more than a comrade you have to endure, nothing but a plague in your life. Everything will turn out alright if you leave right here and now.

But your hands still hold onto his shoulders for dear life, you still whimper softly with every breath you take, your heart still races in desire. Fuck, why is it so hard to let go of him?

“I give zero fucks about our families hating and fighting each other. I want you and nothing else, you understand? We don’t have to do this in secret, you don’t have to pretend that you hate me while you don’t. I want you, (y/n). And I need to have you.”

You hate the way his words make shivers run down your spine, how your heartbeat picks up in an instant. The thought of having him alone is enough to almost send you over the edge. But oh, how could you forget his reputation with women, the things you’ve heard from Shoko? You are nothing but a trophy for a man like him, nothing but a price he hunts after.

You take a deep breath in and out, tame down your beating heart. He might be hot, but he’s still your enemy. Don’t forget where you came from, don’t let yourself fall because of a man.

“You only want me to brag about it. I’m not just one of your many toys, Satoru. And I’m too good to be yours. I’d rather keep you as my enemy.”

With a swift motion, you free yourself out of his grip, remove your touch from his burning skin. Fuck, should you turn around and fall back into his open arms, let him fuck you until you see stars like usual? As much as your body begs you to stay, as much as you miss his touch, you can’t.

After all, Gojo Satoru is your enemy, right?

…Right?

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82

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thesirencult · 4 months

Text

Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌

PILE 1

Dear Santa,

I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.

She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.

I've never felt happier in my life.

The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.

I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.

What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.

Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️

~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.

PILE 2

Hey Santa Baby,

Am I in the naughty list? Great!

This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.

Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.

I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.

I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.

Bye, for now!

~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).

PILE 3

Santa,

I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.

I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.

I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.

I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.

I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?

I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.

P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.

~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.

This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.

#astrology #tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #soulmate #intuitive messages #intuitive readings #pac #psychic #tarotblr #channeled message

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 months

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Nightmare Fuel ~ BC & LF

WORD COUNT:1.5K

GENRE: nightmare comforting, established relationship, poly relationship, sweet and caring baby boys looking after reader, NON IDOL

PAIRING: Chan x Fem!Reader x Felix

⤜MASTERLIST

The bedsheets ripped away from Chan and he frowned looking down at himself and shivered a little, usually, he didn't mind if you or Felix stole the sheets but tonight was particularly cold and he'd only just managed to get into bed and get some sleep. The bed shifted a little and he shook his head, sitting up and resting on the palm of his hands ready to playfully give you and Felix a piece of his mind,

"Listen, blanket thieves-" Chan stopped himself from speaking when he looked down to see you gripping onto the sheets with a twisted expression across your face while occasionally mumbling something. It didn't take long for Felix to stir awake with how cold he was and he whined turning over to say something but freezing when he saw the same sight that Chan had.

"We need to wake her up," Chan whispered to Felix. It was heartbreaking to see you in so much pain in your sleep when all they wanted to do was reach out and comfort you in any way that they could and by now they'd gotten quite the knack of it all.

For the last few weeks, you'd been having nightmares on and off and the boys had seemed to mastered how to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmare naturally or when they woke you up.

You never told them what the nightmares entitled, just that you didn't want to talk about it and you shut them out, building up walls but the boys weren't going to let you suffer alone, even if you didn't tell them what it was about. You suffered in silence and tried to get on with everything, thinking that it would eventually stop but it never did.

"Yn...Babe," Felix spoke gently, about to reach out and touch you when you sat up in bed in a cold sweat and gasping for breath.

You sat there breathing heavily as tears rushed down your cheeks,

"Whoa, hey, it's okay," Felix whispered as he shifted himself to sit beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Your hand landed on his chest as you clutched onto his shirt trying t make sure he was really there and it wasn't just another nightmare. They were getting too realistic for your liking these days and every time you had the same nightmare you felt like you weren't ever going to wake up from it. They were too realistic for them to be something made up inside of your head. How could you ever tell them about this when they were the worst things you could ever dream about? It was horrible nightmares, every night was worse than the previous one. There were nightmares about losing the boys, and your family and there was one where the whole world ended and you were alone. It was getting exhausting waking up every night from a nightmare and terrified of going back to sleep. You felt as though you were going crazy from hardly sleeping or waking up screaming.

"I'll go make the hot chocolate," Chan whispered from the left of you, leaving a gentle kiss on your shoulder as you stared ahead at the opposite side of the room still trying to calm yourself down. Felix could feel how hard your heart was racing so he smiled a little, he knew what he needed to do. The two of you were each other's support system when it came to this - sure Chan was a big help too but Felix seemed to know how to calm you down faster than Chan did.

"Come on baby, let's do our grounding techniques," He whispered softly to you, rubbing your arm gently as you nodded at him. Although you knew he was there it still felt as though he was far away, it even sounded like it.

"Five things you can see," He said sweetly, watching as you forced yourself to look around the room and took in everything around you. You knew he was doing this for your own benefit so you were going to do it, you took in a deep breath,

"Pillows...Blankets," You swallowed the lump in your throat,

"A desk, Chan's laptop and a photo." You finished, looking back at Felix who nodded and smiled at you, happy that you were playing along with him. There were some nights that you wouldn't even entertain this, you'd just walk away mumbling about how you could take care of yourself.

"Good, four things you can touch," He held out his spare hand for you and you grabbed onto it, smiling happily, you had no idea where you'd be without your boys and every day you thanked that you had them with you.

"Your hand, the sheets, the fluffy pillows and my phone," Felix nodded at you.

"Three things you hear?" It was a harder one since it was the dead of night and not much was happening around the house or outside,

"The kettle boiling, your voice and the TV playing." You nodded in the direction of the TV that you and Felix had fallen asleep to,

"Two things you can smell?" Although you'd calmed down Felix was going to make you go through the whole thing just to be sure.

"Hot chocolate and sweat," You groaned at the last one, you must stick to him.

"I'm sorry I smell-" There was no way Felix was going to let you focus on that, not when he didn't care how you smelt right now. All he cared about was making sure his girlfriend was calmed down,

"Don't do that. What's one thing you can taste?" He questioned but you shook your head, there was no taste in your mouth.

"Soon to be hot chocolate," Chan sang out as he walked into the room with a bed tray, filled with three mugs of hot chocolate. A giant smile took over your face as Chan got onto the bed with you.

"I know you never want to talk about it but we need to, sweetheart," Chan told you as you snuggled into Felix and rested your head on his shoulder,

"It's not important," You said, your voice breaking a little as you thought back on it.

"You say that but it's almost an every night experience. Talking might help," Felix suggested as you slowly shut your eyes, finding yourself back in the same place again.

"It's the same thing...Every time, sometimes it gets worse but it's always the same." You whispered, almost as if you were scared that if you spoke it into the real world it was going to come true.

"I come home after a long day and it's dark and cold, you guys aren't here that I can see," You sniffled a little and Chan cuddled close to you,

"I go into the bedroom and find you both...l-lying there and...a-and you're just-" You couldn't get the words out before sobbing loudly, instantly Chan was bringing you closer to him.

"Shh sweetheart, it's just a nightmare."

"I-It's so real...E-Everytime it's so fucking real," You cry out hiding in his neck.

"It's not, I promise you. We're safe, and you're safe with us, baby." Felix told you as he cuddled into your back, kissing the back of your neck while Chan wiped away your tears.

"We won't let anyone or anything hurt you, not even some fucked up dreams," Felix told you proudly as you nodded weakly.

Pulling away from the hug you began to drink some of the hot chocolate that Chan had made, sipping on it and smiling a little.

"Sleepytime hot chocolate and we'll put on our comfort movie." Chan winked before reaching for the remote for the TV and searching for the movie you all enjoyed watching when you were sick or just needed comfort.

"I love you," You told them both as you snuggled into the bed, you hated that you were keeping them up with your nightmares but they didn't seem to mind, caring for you each time it happened.

It took a few weeks for you to slowly stop having the nightmares, it wasn't a quick fix but ever since you'd spoken to the boys about all of the dreams you'd noticed they'd dulled down.

For the first time in what felt like forever the light shining through the curtain windows was what woke you up, not one of the boys asking you to wake up or the feeling of dread but sunlight.

"Morning sleepy, did you sleep okay?" Chan asked as he noticed you were finally waking up. The two of them had been up for a few hours but they wanted to leave you to catch up on some sleep you clearly needed.

"Fantastic," You admitted, watching as Felix snuck into the room with breakfast made for you and sat down beside you on the bed with a giant grin on his face.

"I'm sorry I woke you guys up all the time,"

"Don't apologise, sweetheart. None of it was your fault," Chan shook his head, nightmares weren't something you could control and they weren't going to hold a grudge over it.

"But talking about it helped, so that means we always have to talk," Felix added making you giggle, before eating the delicious breakfast he'd made for you.

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inkskinned · 2 years

Text

i. about 2 weeks ago, i was told there's a good chance that in 5 or so years, i'll need a wheelchair.

ii. okay. i loved harry potter as a kid. i have a hypothesis about this to be honest - why people still kind of like it. it's that she got very lucky. she managed to make a cross-generational hit. it was something shared for both parents and kids. it was right at the start of a huge cultural shift from pre to post-internet. i genuinely think many people were just seeking community; not her writing. it was a nice shorthand to create connection. which is a long way of saying - she didn't build this legacy, we built it for her. she got lucky, just once. that's all.

iii. to be real with you, i still struggle with identifying as someone with a disability, which is wild, especially given the ways my life has changed. i always come up against internalized ableism and shame - convinced even right now that i'm faking it for attention. i passed out in a grocery store recently. i hit my head on the shelves while i went down.

iv. he raises his eyebrows while he sends me a look. her most recent new book has POTS featured in it. okay, i say. i already don't like where this is going. we both take another bite of ramen. it is a trait of the villain, he says. we both roll our eyes about it.

v. so one of the things about being nonbinary but previously super into harry potter is that i super hate jk rowling. but it is also not good for my mental health to regret any form of joy i engaged with as a kid. i can't punish my young self for being so into the books - it was a passion, and it was how i made most of my friends. everyone knew about it. i felt like everyone had my same joy, my same fixation. as a "weird kid", this sense of belonging resonated with me so loudly that i would have done anything to protect it.

vi. as a present, my parents once took me out of school to go see the second movie. it is an incredibly precious memory: my mom straight-up lying about a dentist appointment. us snickering and sneaking into the weekday matinee. within seven years of this experience, the internet would be a necessity to get my homework finished. the world had permanently changed. harry potter was a relic, a way any of us could hold onto something of the analog.

vii. by sheer luck, the year that i started figuring out the whole gender fluid thing was also the first year people started to point out that she might have some internalized biases. i remember tumblr before that; how often her name was treated as godhood. how harry potter was kind of a word synonymous for "nerdy but cool." i would walk out of that year tasting he/him and they/them; she would walk out snarling and snapping about it.

viii. when i teach older kids creative writing, i usually tell them - so, she did change the face of young adult fiction, there's no denying that. she had a lot more opportunities than many of us will - there were more publishing houses, less push for "virally" popular content creators. but beyond reading another book, we need to write more books. we need to uplift the voices of those who remain unrepresented. we need to push for an exposure to the bigotry baked into the publishing system. and i promise you: you can write better than she ever did. nothing she did was what was magical - it was the way that the community responded to it.

ix. i get home from ramen. three other people have screenshotted the POTS thing and sent it to me. can you fucking believe we're still hearing this shit from her when it's almost twenty-fucking-twenty-three. the villain is notably also popular on tumblr. i just think that's funny. this woman is a billionaire and she's mad that she can't control the opinions of some people on a dying blue site that makes no money. lady, and i mean this - get a fucking life.

x. i am sorry to the kid i was. maybe the kid you were too. none of us deserved to see something like this ruined. that thing used to be precious to me. and now - all those good times; measured into dust.

/// 9.6.2022 // FUCKING AGAIN, JK? Are you fucking kidding me?

#witches and wizards #kids need to be able to play games without knowing the extended universe #playing was easy #i knew i wasn't gonna be able to explain chronicles of christomancy #but we could pick up a stick and run around #nd say we were magic that would be enough backstory #and i think the last time i felt that sense of community #was the summer of pokemon go #it's about cross-generational connectivity bro #yes there are insular communtities but EVERYONE had fucking read harry potter #which is me saying - i think maybe people don't miss HER or the ACTUAL BOOK tbh #they miss... feeling connected #think about how so many people felt so weirdly ashamed and lost after Game of Thrones ended -#they did SUCH a bad job that the entire community just... vanished.#where beforehand people would have GoT weddings #we are just animals who love stories and love feeling like we speak the same language #btw i am not on twitter so i hadn't seen some of the shit she was doing #and then when i was 19 she published the ''american school'' hogwarts stuff #and was reading it casually bc again a huge nerd #and in it shes like ''the british taught the natives their more civilized magics''#and that was like..................... oh okay. okay. so.....

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