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eowynstwin · 2 months ago

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anatidae - conception, i.

After several happy years together, Ghost and Soap finally convince you to have their child. - ghoap x reader. audhd reader. reader has a nickname. established relationship. polyamory. baby fever. manipulative Soap. smut. breeding kink. anal sex. top Soap. bottom Ghost. sex as manipulation. - Masterlist. Ao3

Eventually, they convince you.

It is impossible to tell who your daughter’s father is for two reasons:

One, when she opens her tiny eyes, one is blue, and one is brown. Complete heterochromia, unlikely to change.

And two—with every passing day, she looks more and more like you.

Four years old; roly-poly with baby fat, little legs and arms she doesn’t quite know what to do with yet. She fills the spaces in your plural household that you did not know were empty until she found them, with her curiosity, her laughter, her boundless appetite for each minute of every day.

She’s smart. Very smart, quick not only to learn but to apply her lessons to new contexts. She sleeps through the night almost every night since the three of you brought her home, turns her nose up at nothing you offer her to eat, never wanders far from you or her fathers at the park or the store.

She’s perfect—even though she has not yet uttered a single word.

Your baby. Your Lizzie.

And actually, it’s Soap’s idea.

His eldest sister’s middle child is turning six, so the three of you pile into his car on a warm Saturday morning to make the drive to the suburbs. The MacTavish-Donnelly household overflows with children in party hats and benevolently bored parents when Ghost pulls the old Jeep up to the curb, boxing some unfortunate van in the driveway, and your trepidation is visible the moment your shoes hit the pavement.

Being your partner has uncovered a new layer of perception for Soap and Ghost; they see and hear things they previously would have ignored, because with the way you move through the world you can ignore nothing.

You described it once having a live wire for every nerve ending; everything, everywhere, screams at you all the time.

So when you pause on the sidewalk when you see a trike in the front yard, and a few adults holding punch cups on the stoop chatting, Soap knows why he hears the wrapping paper around the present in your hands crinkle, your grip tightening.

He throws an arm around your shoulder and brings his lips to your ear. “You got your wee earplugs, aye, Ducky?”

“Yes,” you whisper nervously.

You sway into him at his touch—it’s grounding, you’ve explained. It keeps you from floating away, expanding outward to try to figure out everything happening around you. Nothing beyond the sphere he and Ghost make matters so much.

He kisses the soft spot of your jaw. Ghost comes up to your other side and pulls your hand up into the crook of his arm. “We can set the place on fire, if need be.”

“Don’t burn my sister’s house down, please, LT.”

“Sink fire. Set off the alarms, that’s all.”

You give a little sniff of laughter, and, thus fortified, the three of you advance.

There’s Twister in the living room next to a table piled high with a rainbow of gifts, children tumbling around each other on the mat and laughing while music plays on the telly. Pastel streamers and balloons festoon everything (the middle child being celebrated should grow up without any proverbial complexes, Soap thinks), and confetti is abundant on the carpeted floor like a piñata molted on its way through.

There are the usual stares as they walk through the house. Soap is used to it—likes to flaunt it even, sometimes—and Ghost has never given a shit what anyone thinks. But you seem to shrink even further between them as you feel watched, curious eyes wondering if the mousy little thing between them really arrived with two men.

Luckily, they find Mary in the kitchen, and even despite how obviously harried she is, wisps of hair flying around a lopsided ponytail, Soap’s sister brightens when she sees them.

“Johnny!” she exclaims, swooping him into a hug he’ll never get too big to fall into. “And Simon and Duck! Thank goodness, we’re about to cut the cake and we might need crowd control.”

“Mary,” grunts Ghost.

“Hello Mary,” you say.

Mary releases Soap and smiles very kindly at you. Out of all his siblings, she’s been the most fond of you from the start—probably, he thinks, because she sees something to nurture in you.

At that moment, two of Mary’s children and three of Soap’s nieces and nephews, including the birthday boy, rush in to glom around Soap’s legs, and after the choruses of “Uncle Johnny!” collide with him, they backwash toward Ghost, who always has candy in the many pockets of his utility pants for them to scavenge.

Soap’s family has accommodated you well, though—they flow around you like water, barely touching, and you take the opportunity to give Mary your own hug.

“We’re doing crafts in the backyard, Duck, I thought you might like that,” his sister says, patting your back.

You pull away and give her a smile. It’s one of Soap’s favorites; small and mysterious, and completely genuine. The one that means you’re very pleased, and you don’t feel pressured to show it.

“Yes,” you say, and you vanish outside to sit with the quiet ones.

Ghost allows himself to be dragged off by the rowdier kids, leaving Soap to lean against the kitchen counter and smile at his sister; when when she lifts a cup to sip at some punch, he taps her belly with two fingers.

He’d felt it when she hugged him. A little firmness, hidden by the weight she’s never managed to lose after three pregnancies, and the loose shirt she’s likely wearing to hide the growing bump.

“Number four,” he murmurs.

Jealousy, a thin, sharp garrote, tightens in a spool around his stomach, but it’s an old feeling—one he’s learned how to ignore, until it stops aching.

(Compromise—sacrifice. It’s how a relationship between three people sustains itself. Everyone in his plurality has given something up, or learned to live with something else, or adopted new practices they might otherwise have never picked up. It’s a solid, even foundation, and the last thing Soap wants to do is take a hammer to it.)

His sister’s face softens with warmth. The glow of it suffuses the stiff lines of her posture, gentling the anxiety that has fizzed in the way she stands.

“Our last one,” she says quietly. “We haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Planned?”

“No. God! Could you imagine? Mum and Dad are crazy enough.”

Soap smiles. “We turned out alright.”

Mary runs her hand over her stomach, quick but loving. “Yeah, we did. Remember me though? Swore I’d never become her, and look at me now.”

A house full of toys shoved into every corner; sippy cups in a wire drain basket by the sink. The long hem of her tunic shirt creased by tugging hands. The jamb of one door anointed with three different colors of sharpie, hatch marks measuring years of rapid growth.

Light, and warmth, and color.

“You’re happy, though,” he says.

“I am.” She aims a little grin into her cup—an expression he’s seen her make more often with every consecutive pregnancy.

A secretive curve of her lips. Tranquil, with the familiarity of some hidden insight, as if Mary can see facets of happiness that—to Johnny—remain a mystery.

“I always thought this would be you, you know,” she says. “If you married a girl, I mean. Then you and Simon got together, and I figured not, but…”

Soap settles his crossed arms lightly on his chest, sucking one cheek between his teeth. He sets his gaze on the rainbow of letter magnets on her fridge, spelling out the names of her children. “You know her. It wouldnae—wouldnae be a good idea.”

Mary nods. “And she doesn’t want any?”

“No. Neither of ‘em do.”

He feels his sister’s eyes on him. Probing, in only the way a mother of three’s can be—though even before having children, she’s always been able to see through him in a way no one else ever has.

“I dunno abou’ that,” she says eventually.

When he looks up at her, her gaze is angled elsewhere—toward the sliding glass of the back door, where a table piled high with cheap craft paints and canvas board and grubby jars of water are attended by the clan introverts. You’re the only adult sitting with them, happy not to be bothered—

But a little one comes shyly up to you, a messy painting clutched between two paint-smeared hands.

It’s Mary’s youngest, Angus—and her shyest. He comes to stand beside you with his shoulders hunched, eyes big and trepidatious as he waits for you to catch sight of him.

Soap watches you greet the lad when you notice him. The expression on your face doesn’t change; you always speak to the children the same way you speak to adults, no exaggeration, no upward pitch. Angus stretches his arms out to present his creation.

You look at the canvas when it’s offered to you, and then in a smooth motion you slide out of your chair to crouch down to the boy’s level. As Soap watches, you cross you legs and invite him to sit in your lap, and then, with as serious an expression as you might have at a gallery showing, you begin pointing at different places on the painting. One arm is wrapped loosely around little Angus’ belly, holding the child to you like a stuffed toy.

One side of the canvas is in Angus’ hand; the other is in yours.

He can’t hear what you’re saying, as he watches your mouth move, but Angus positively glows with the obvious praise you’re giving him. When he turns to look up at you, you give him your mysterious little smile—

Something hot blooms in Soap’s chest.

Then there’s a shriek of laughter in the living room, and when Soap turns to look, he sees Ghost on the Twister mat, huge body set in an arch, feet on green, hands on red.

He’s going to bitch later about his back or his knees, Soap can already hear it ringing in his ears—but right now Ghost holds position as kids crawl underneath him or do their best to clamber over him like climbing a mountain. Then, suddenly, Ghost collapses with one of their nephews worming over his belly, throwing his arms around the kid and hauling him over his shoulder.

“Bloody mountain goats, I look like a jungle gym to you?” he barks, baring his teeth in a mock-snarl. Though at home he’ll have it on as often as not, he never wears his mask around the children.

Ghost surges up to spin the boy around, and the other kids crow with laughter and demands for a turn of their own.

“Watch the lamps!” Mary cries out, undercutting her warning with a laugh. “You’re as bad as the wee ones, Simon!”

The heat in his chest billows. St. Elmo’s fire catches in his alveoli, flash-burns the lining of his lungs inward to cloak his heart in a white blaze. Heat sears his neck upward to flood across his face.

He thinks of you, belly round, breasts heavy. Ghost with a baby in his arms, a tiny thing made tinier by the bulk of his huge frame. A toddler clinging to your leg, face tipped up to look at you with adoring eyes, or napping at midday, thumb in mouth, on Soap’s chest.

It takes his breath away. The kitchen sways around him, the earth’s center of gravity shifting. A fissure crack the casket of his want.

Mary catches his eye with a knowing grin.

He starts with Ghost.

You’re going to be the harder sell. Early in the relationship, the three of you had sat down to discuss this, and you had been unequivocal—no kids. You did not want children, and you did not want to be pregnant.

It was a sensory nightmare, you’d explained. The thought of sticky hands reaching out constantly to touch you, and shrill, high voices shouting and screaming, with no knob to turn down the volume, made you shudder with fear. Piles of toys to trip over, when your balance is medium on a good day, and no moment to sit down in silence without the risk of it being interrupted by some little goblin’s insatiable demands.

Put that way, Soap could see your point. He remembers his parents’ most exhausted days, dealing with no less than five children in the house and seven for birthdays and holidays. That kind of exhaustion would weigh on anyone, but for you, it would be a different beast entirely.

And Ghost was in accord—both for your sake, and his own. By then, he had told you and Soap about the Sonoran desert, Sparks and Washington, burning down his own house with four bodies still warm inside it—one smaller than the pool of blood it lay in.

He did not want to bring something into the world so easily taken out of it.

Soap could see that too. Certain moments in the field live permanently now in the folds of his brain, bloody and ugly and grisly in the way most people only encounter through fiction. Too real to him now not to look at his nieces and nephews sometimes with dread tearing up his gut.

Soap was outvoted. Moreover, he was convinced. So he kept his desires to himself.

But that evening after the party, he can’t stop thinking about it. A little bundle with his eyes, and your mouth, and Simon’s nose. Little hands curling around his fingers. A high chair at their dinner table, right next to his place. Bedtime stories. Halloween costumes. Friday night movies, like his Dad used to set up for him and his brother and sisters, popcorn fights during action scenes and falling asleep in piles on the floor.

Soap has always wanted children. Always. He thought he could give that up, being with you and Ghost—what’s between the three of you is rare, precious, more than worth having even by itself. He loves the life he has with his little family, and he wouldn’t change it.

But expansion isn’t exactly change, is it?

The more he thinks about it, the more right it feels. The more he can already feel the weight of his child in his arms. And he knows it would make the two of you happy, even despite the trepidation you and Ghost share. Neither he nor you grew up in happy homes overflowing with love—it’s natural that neither of you can see the potential of it.

But Soap did. Soap can.

He doesn’t mind being the visionary. He’s more than willing to lead the charge. He can do the work of opening his partners’ eyes—

And he’s not above fighting dirty to do it.

It starts with getting Ghost on his back. You’re out one night teaching an evening class (bento dinner in hand, an extra square of chocolate Soap snuck in at the last moment), so the next few hours are just for them, and Soap takes possession of every minute.

It’s always a sight. Ghost is the biggest man Soap has ever been with—and to have that huge body below him, fatty muscle red and quivering, hips rolling with a needy cant as Soap slowly drags his cock in and out of him, is something that never fails to take his breath away.

He massages his hands up and down Ghost’s chest, cupping his heavy pecs and thumbing his nipples as the big man’s eyes sink closed and his bitten mouth drops open. Between them, his cock, blustery red and standing straight up, twitches every time Soap pushes in, dripping clear and messy all over his stomach.

Ghost’s hands are vice-tight on Soap’s hips, but he doesn’t urge him to speed up, doesn’t snarl at him to get on with it, like he usually might. No—Soap set the mood just right, backing Ghost into the bedroom with soft kisses up his neck and softer hands wandering up his shirt. It’s honey-sweet and slow as dripping molasses, with Ghost hot and tight around him, their groaning breaths mingling as they hang there together in the moment.

Watching Ghost’s belly jump with pleasure, Soap says—breathlessly, as if letting it slip out—“I wanna get her pregnant, Simon.”

It’s only supposed to test the waters. Take Ghost’s temperature, see where his head’s at. Soap is ready for anything—for Simon to freeze, to glare at him, even to shove him away.

But instead—

“Fffffuck,” Ghost growls, chest expanding, stomach going concave as he heaves a deep breath in.

His brows screw together, upper lip curling, and he draws so tight around Soap that he has the delirious notion that Ghost is going to pull his cock clean off. If Ghost had been blushing before, he’s positively blazing now, red blooming bright across his face and chest and all the way up to the tips of his ears.

Soap knows immediately what’s happening—Ghost is on the razor’s edge of coming.

And all it took were those six little words.

“Yeah?” he presses, blending the long thrusts he’s kept steady until now into a few short, quick ones. “Yeah? You like that idea? Her all big with our baby, Si, something we put in her? Us?”

Ghost pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, throwing his head back. “Fuck—Johnny—” he snarls.

“Did y’see her with the wee ones?” Johnny croons, pressing the heels of his hands into Ghost’s stomach. “She’d be so good with a baby, Ghost, I know it. Our baby.”

Ghost starts panting, hard, grunting like an animal with every exhale. He’s never especially talkative during sex, unless it’s to give instruction or bark an order, but now it seems that language has completely abandoned him, as he tries to get Johnny to fuck him faster with the roll of his hips, trying to thrust his cock into the open air.

As if you’re already there, already taking him, and Ghost is trying to get himself as deep inside you as he can.

Johnny wraps one hand around it, sliding his fist loosely up and down. He can practically feel Ghost’s heartbeat plunging through every raised vein. If Johnny had the flexibility, he’d bend down right now just to get it in his mouth, but as it is he contents himself with getting Ghost’s precum all over his palm and licking it off with his tongue.

“Probably take a few tries,” says Soap, closing his hand back around Ghost’s cock. “Though with two of us, probably not long. Not if we go one right after the other, every time we can, aye?”

He pauses to spit on the red, exposed crown, circled round by thumb and fingers, so he can lube up his grip. Ghost’s dense, heavy thighs shake around his hips, as Soap thrusts his cock as deep as he can and slides his hand down to Ghost’s base. He mimics the squeeze of Ghost’s ass around him—the tightness of your cunt swallowing him up—as he jacks him off, up and down at the same time he pulls in and out.

“Fuck,” Ghost breathes, “Johnny, you—Johnny—”

“Sounds good, doesnae?” Soap says. “Gettin’ her between us, not stoppin’ ‘til somethin’ takes.”

“Fuck!” Ghost shouts, and then he’s gone, balls drawing up, a stream of white jetting out so hard it lands on his chest, right in the valley of his swelling pecs. Soap fucks him through it with his hand, and slams his hips hard against Ghost’s as as he chases his own end—

“Just—like—this,” Soap growls, tether snapping, and he empties himself as deep as he can into Ghost, cock pulsing as ecstasy pours up and down his stomach. He swears he can feel every drop of cum leaving him, and worries wildly that there won’t be enough left for you later, as the intensity of his orgasm seems to empty his balls of every last reserve.

He holds himself still for a moment after, still buried in his partner, nerves alight with an ecstasy so bright and so fervent that it’s sharp enough to cut him to the bone.

He feels very present. Anchored and secure in this place and time. At home, Soap struggles often with the feeling of being tugged in a hundred different directions, all at once, myriad urges to see, do, and act all clamoring at him for attention. It’s something that keeps him alive in the field—that keeps him thriving on deployment, really—but constantly on his toes when he’s home, all safe and sound.

Always searching, it feels like. Always looking for something he needs, and almost never finding it. The feeling quietens when Ghost curls his hand around the back of his neck, or you lean your head in close to his to kiss him or to speak.

Now—it’s silent.

A father. He’s going to be a father.

Panting heavily, Ghost finds his voice—at least, enough of it to start laughing.

“Spoiled brat, you are,” he chuckles in his steel-edged tenor. “You know that? Spoiled.”

Soap grins at him, caressing one thigh. “Your fault.”

“Mm,” Ghost hums, having long known that he’ll give Soap whatever he wants. The hard cut of his mouth is pulled into a wry smile. “She ain’t gonna fold so easy, Johnny.”

Soap pulls out of his partner, and crawls up to lay next to him. “I know. S’what I like abou’ her, after all.”

Ghost hums again. He lifts one arm to wrap around Soap’s shoulders, drawing him close, idly tapping his fingers on his tricep.

“You’re gonna have to get a desk job,” he says.

His tone is thoughtful, but Soap knows the words to be absolute.

Once you’d agreed to be theirs, Ghost had retired. It had surprised Soap and you both, but Ghost treated it as the most natural thing in the world. And it didn’t take very long, after the dust settled, for Soap to see why—you needed care, more than Soap had realized, and for Ghost, that need superseded any of his desire to remain in the field.

And Ghost was good at caring for you. It seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing: remembering what you liked to eat, helping you with your stretches, using the special brushes you had to wake your nerves up every morning. Putting together a schedule and keeping you on it, making sure you got to work on time and bringing you home at the end of every day.

And as you began to flourish in receiving his care, so too did Ghost flourish in giving it.

The hard edges of him softened. The sharp tones of his voice blunted. Soap saw Ghost become a steadier version of himself than he’d ever seen before—and he saw you blossom with a happiness that, at the inception of their odd relationship, had only begun to bud.

“Lookin’ after her is one thing,” continues Ghost. “I’m alright bein’ the hardass, ‘cause you make up for where I’m shit. But a kid’s different, Johnny. You don’t get to come and go as you like with a kid. It’s all, or nothin.’”

And Soap has to be honest with himself—a corner of his stomach clenches. There is a clarity in the smell of oil and gun smoke that he’s failed to find anywhere else.

But it does not dim the sunlight shining in his chest.

He knew it would happen someday, to old age if not a bullet. So to a baby?

Better than he really could have hoped.

He swings one leg over Ghost’s hips, and pushes himself up to straddle his partner. Ghost smirks beneath him, hands rounding the curves of his waist, sliding backward to palm Soap’s ass before traveling further down to squeeze his thighs.

“Gonna be fun, LT,” Soap agrees, grinning. “I hear pregnancy makes you horny as hell.”

“Bloody fucking hell, Soap,” Ghost snorts, lifting up to one elbow and dragging him down by the neck for a kiss.

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author's notes: y'all wore me down. I'm writing baby fic. What has the world come to

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that-house · 10 months ago

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“Tell me about magic,” I said to the god wearing my friend’s corpse.

It (I would not grant it the honor of using her name) smiled at me the way she used to smile. It looked like shit, by the way, streaked with mud and blood and slowly spinning new flesh from atmospheric carbon to patch up the bullet holes our latest acquaintances had left it.

“I know every word in your human languages and none of them suffice. How would you explain a black hole’s accretion disk to a fish?”

“I don’t know. Try.” I didn’t bother voicing the threat but it was implicit, as it was in all of our conversations: your kind has died only once before, but it was at the hands of mine.

It sighed with the weariness of a parent about to talk down to a kid, but it signed up for this when it trapped itself on this rock with me. “It’s a puzzle that’s almost been solved since forever began, a puzzle of infinite complexity worked on by the million sharpest minds to ever be, all themselves fractured into dizzying arrays of subminds in temporally upspun pocket universes, all striving to refine those secret arts of law and mastery. It’s cooperation and competition, vines of knowledge strangling each other as we reach ever upwards towards the sun, clawing at each other in our desperate want. It’s a science. It’s like breathing. It’s like love.”

“I distinctly recall you saying that love is an idiocy reserved for us mortals, and a more efficient chemically-induced blindness than sodium hydroxide too.”

“And I maintain that stance, but it gets the point across, does it not?” It huffed with exasperation, you know, the way that she had a thousand times when we were young. An affectation? Or a bit of humanity bleeding into the monster?

“Mhm. Sure.”

It side-eyed me but kept talking. “You don’t have the point of view it would take to truly understand magic. You never will. Even if you saw the world the way I did, you wouldn’t have the context or the time to decipher it. For you it can never be a science, only ever an art.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“In truth I envied you. With infinity at one’s proverbial fingertips, what else is there to do? The greatest possible workings have all been deduced, those most absolute and inviolable inflictions of the will upon the cosmos, and all that remains to study are the fleeting shadows of concepts beyond even us. But you humans, you tread on new ground that we’ve long since mastered, internalized, and then forgotten. The best you can manage without literally blowing your own minds is a little teleportation. You’re clueless and flawed and you fuck it all up whenever you get the chance. And I envied you.” For a creature enamored with paradox, the idea of a god envying a mortal sure pained it.

“So you cut it all free, cast off the godhead, and came down from on high to slum it with we mortals. I bet you’re regretting that now,” I said, sticking my finger in the last bullet hole and giving it an experimental wiggle. It winced, but the wound closed up like it had never been as I withdrew my finger. Pain is a just a signal, it was always fond of saying. But it still cried whenever it lost a limb.

“Not in the slightest,” said the once-god wearing my friend’s corpse. “This is the most alive I’ve felt in eons.”

#viscera star #kind of #this is a scene i wont ACTUALLY put to paper for like. Years #but i wanted to write something today and it was this #and fuck it i figured i might as well post it #lucy viscera star #katie viscera star

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authenticbunni · 7 months ago

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My highlights from “Power of the subconscious mind”

These highlights are from a book made in 1963 By Joseph Murphy, Who taught this around the us, and has given regular people that had little idea about it result of their manifestations, if this gets enough notes then I’ll make another part with the success stories from the book. The words in green are my own, for you to further understand or Apply it to modern day manifestation

Never use the terms, "I can't afford it" or "I can't do this." Your subconscious mind takes you at your word and sees to it that you do not have the money or the ability to do what you want to do. Affirm, "I can do all things through the power of my subconscious mind."

Still the wheels of your mind, relax, let go, and quietly affirm: "My subconscious knows the answer. It is responding to me now. I give thanks because I know the infinite intelligence of my subconscious knows all things and is revealing the perfect answer to me now. My real conviction is now setting free the majesty and glory of my subconscious mind. I rejoice that it is so."

Whether the object of your faith (religion) is real or false, you will get results. Your subconscious mind responds to the thought in your mind. Look upon faith as a thought in your mind, and that will suffice (be enough or adequate).

I wanted to know his method, so I asked him why he re-peated the words prior to sleep (SATS). Here is his reply, "The kinetic action of the subconscious mind continues throughout your sleep-time period. Hence, give the subconscious mind something good to work on as you drop off into slumber." This was a very wise answer. In thinking of harmony and perfect health, he never mentioned his trouble by name.

Apply the power of prayer therapy (This can be an affirmation/vaunt too) in your life. Choose a certain plan, idea, or mental picture. Mentally and emotionally unite with that idea, and as you remain faithful to your mental attitude, your prayer will be answered.

Power goes into our word according to the feeling and faith behind it. When we realize the power that moves the world is moving on our behalf and is backing up our word, our confidence and assurance grow. You do not try and add power to power; therefore, there must be no mental striving, coercion, force, or mental wrestling (basically desperation, I would explain it but it’s too much, you sorta kinda have to read the book to get it :/).

To affirm is to state that it is so, and as you maintain this attitude of mind as true, regardless of all evidence to the contrary, you will receive an answer to your prayer.

Similarly, your subconscious mind is the master mechanic, the all-wise one, who knows ways and means of healing any or-gan of your body, as well as your affairs. Decree health, and your subconscious will establish it, but relaxation is the key. "Easy does it." Do not be concerned with details and means, but know the end result. Get the feel of the happy solution to your problem whether it is health, finances, or employment (these were like the big concerns in the mid 1900s, you can replace these with your desires). Remember how you felt after you had recovered from a severe state of illness (replace that with your desire). Bear in mind that your feeling is the touchstone of all subconscious demonstration. Your new idea must be felt subjectively in a finished state, not the future, but as coming about now.

using your subconscious mind you infer no opponent, you use no will power. You imagine the end and the freedom state. You will find your intellect trying to get in the way, but persist in maintaining a simple, childlike, miracle-making faith. Picture yourself without the ailment (this means like illness, but you don’t have to worry abt this word) or problem. Imagine the emotional accompaniment of the freedom state you crave. Cut out all red tape (hard stuff or complex manifesting routine/self concept) from the process. The simple way is the best.

Do not weaken your prayer by saying, "I wish I might be healed." "I hope so." Your feeling about the work to be done is "the boss." Harmony is yours. Know that health is yours. Be-come intelligent by becoming a vehicle for the infinite healing power of the subconscious mind. Pass on the idea of health to your subconscious mind to the point of conviction; then relax. Get yourself off your hands. Say to the condition and circum-stance, "This, too, shall pass." Through relaxation you impress your subconscious mind enabling the kinetic energy behind the idea to take over and bring it into concrete realization.

#manifesation #manifesting #imagination creates reality #law of assumption #manifest it #reality shifting #affirm and persist #void state

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genderkoolaid · 5 months ago

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i'm venting, so feel free to ignore this- idk how to explain what i mean all that well so forgive me if this is a Mess. I'm really tired of people telling me to just keep living out of spite. Or that I have to keep living because me 'living' is a act of resistance. It just makes me feel so tired. and Mad. I lack the words to really explain it but i just. Why do I have to keep going on spite? Why does my existence have to be a act of resistance or be politicized? I don't want to keep Living out of spite or because people say i have to. I think its mostly because I'm just exhausted and I think I'm burned out and Tired of being told i need to survive off of spite, or being told i just need to keep going because i have to. sorry for dumping this in ur ask. stuff is just hard n idk if you or anyone else gets what i mean.

This is a very understandable way to feel! I'm also not super into "living out of spite" myself. I'm glad it works for many people (being alive is good!), but it can get tiring when that is the dominant advice you are receiving and you know it's not gonna work for you. Idk if this is part of your experience but I know as a chronically suicidal person, it can also get exhausting constantly being reminded (sometimes in ways that feel condescending) that you are expected to want to live and if you don't want to live, that's Bad and you must Correct Yourself.

If you want an alternative perspective to chew on, here's my personal outlook:

Having the chance to be alive is good. Being alive is a complex experience, but one that enriches the universe, and that matters a lot to me spiritually. There is only one you, with your unique body and experiences and thoughts and choices. Death is inevitable, so when possible we should try to spend as much time as we can living our lives, adding to the cosmos, trying our bests to have a good time.

Its a fucked up time ahead, and it's fucked up time now. Life was never going to be free of suffering, and it's a pointless tragedy that people cause all this extra suffering on top it.

But the time will pass anyways. We have the chance to be alive right now, and all we can do is keep going. It's not an act of resistance, it's just accepting the presence of your right to existence, and making us of it.

Gonna once again reference Alexandre Baril's concept of suicidism (the oppression of suicidal people) and mention that while I think it's very respectable to try and give people reasons not to die– it's the last decision you can ever make, and it shouldn't be done lightly– oftentimes people end up reinforcing the idea of people who died by their own choice as, in some way, failures. I don't think this is fair. I'm not going to begrudge anyone the choice of when they want to stop living. I don't think anyone is obligated to live until they are forced to stop. I don't think any oppressed person who had died by suicide has "let their oppressors win."

Give yourself space to feel however you need to about your life. It's alright to feel tired of living; that's entirely understandable. Your relationship with your life is your own and it does not need to be justified to anyone.

#m.#ask box

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lamusedhermes · 5 months ago

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Academic advices from a (non american) law student.

Premise: I feel the urge to underline the fact that I am not American nor attend any university in America due to the fact that most tips and tricks I found, coming from Americans, were scarce in terms of concrete application. If you found them to be useful, then I am more than glad. All I wish to do is to share different experiences and approaches to the university world that are maybe differing from the usual content.

I. “Time restricted” spaced repetition: the great majority of the subject in my curriculum are quite complex and portray a large number of complex topics, Latin terms, and regulations that are specific. What I suggest here is to write down in a fun colour (to me it is red) the words, terms, names and phrases that are difficult for you to remember. We are not born all knowing, and some terms can be, at first glance, peculiar or unusual. That is completely normal. Therefore, write down anything that you may struggle to remember and every day, you do your best to recall those specific terms, and over the span of even two days you will most likely incorporate even the most difficult words.

II. Repeat out loud: in my university, we do not have written exams. Therefore, practicing your speech for the exam is fundamental for us. However, even if your exams are not oral, explaining out loud subjects helps you remember them better (even if you give a look to your notes from time to time). Do this from day one of preparation. My favourite way of doing so is to repeat everything when outside, while on a walk or at a cafe.

III. Mental connections: chances are, some topics will be repeated in different ways in the same subject. For instance, the concept of inter-subjective laws was discussed three times in this one course, and each time a different aspect was discussed. What I am suggesting is that, when a particular topic or word comes up often, you force yourself to do two things: first, you do a repetition exercise in which you repeat where and when was that topic already mentioned, and second, you differentiate between the two. Why are they different, how are they different and in what ways they are similar.

IV. During the lectures: our professors do not record lectures, nor do they use any platform to “stream” them. If it is possible for you, attend the lectures! Take careful notes and correct them right away, after the lectures has finished! Ask those questions, no matter how “silly” they may be! The professor is right there for you, so you might as well use the opportunity to enrich your knowledge.

V. The notes: print them. Not only will your eyes thank you, but I find studying from paper more effective and it is easier to focus. Call me a grandma, but that is the truth. And if correcting some parts is the reason you prefer digital, try to simply cover the parts tg at you wish to rewrite eight plain paper and write the correction on it. This way the topic will be easier to be remembered.

VI. Audiobook: this may sound unusual, but listening to your notes can be quite beneficial. Due to me being a student, I have free access to the Microsoft package: world has this “read aloud” feature, and I play the audio during the night. The subconscious mind is much more powerful than what you may think of it.

VII. Grades: obviously we all aim for the greatest grades, but often the way we are graded may be out of your control. Sometimes you may get sick right before the exam, sometimes the examiner may be irritated and got up already upset with the world, sometimes we could have given better performances. It happens, and it will inevitably make you feel awful and out of place: please, remember to be kind and gentle with yourself. It will be better the next time, but in that moment remember that you are never alone. If you do not wish to talk it out with someone, ask ChatGPT. It really gives comfort and great advices in moments of frustration and disappointment. Do not ruin your life for a temporary moment.

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cormorant-red · 2 months ago

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The long-awaited(?) VLR journal is complete! I was A LOT WORDIER in this one. And all the words at the beginning are hilarious to me bc I so clearly saved and quit in the middle of exposition and then sent Storm a bunch of messages from work the next day, completely forgetting what colors the next doors were, and completely clueless to the fact that the bracelets were going to change. Great job theorizing, champ.

I did eventually learn to use my colorful pens without causing so much bleedthrough, but not in time to save the title page. rip

Transcript below the cut:

Corrie: "so which colors would you mix to get magenta?" sorry what was that, zero? i heard "murasaki"

-----

Dio, K, and I gingerly lifted the woman up and carried her to the infirmary.

Perhaps he just didn’t consider himself one of the “boys,” or maybe it was something else… But whatever the reason, Tenmyouji only stared.

Corrie: me, averting my eyes from character tags: that’s some weird behavior, old man who i’ve never met before!

-----

Corrie: The astronomy theming is fun and I’m interested to see how relevant it becomes! I haven’t been spoiled in any detail but I have seen references to concepts such as “time travel” and “the moon”

-----

Corrie: girl you got the distributaries?

Phi: Time to see what the results are.

Phi: Maybe it’s different this time…

-----

Corrie: it's interesting that per the rules so far, unless something changes (and i hope it will), i'll never be in an escape room with K or clover, and i'll never be in one without phi

also quark and dio but i care somewhat less about hearing from them

Storm: you don't want to hear the magnitude of dio's wit? Impossible

Corrie: i'm surprised that zero said we weren't limited to three rounds or some other arbitrary number. if we all agree to ally we could just boost up to 9 for everyone no problem. but that's not going to happen is it

-----

Corrie: ooough they weren’t lying that thought experiment CAN dilemma. the smartest play is probably to stick with magenta doors for as long as I can and keep building up points with luna…but the most interesting play is to hear from as many characters as possible. also that strategy doesn’t account for the fact that people who betrayed in the first round have a head start to 9, and there’s no guarantee they’ll wait for everyone to catch up. the fact that there’s a second dilemma, layered on the first, in which you could ally by waiting or betray by opening door 9 asap is so goooood

Storm: yeah!!!!

and what's really fun is throughout the rounds you will see those varying situations, everyone stalled or trying to keep the top points people from getting to 9

just the mix of people and personalities alone ensures if it was just the A/B rounds and rooms in a vacuum it would already be fairly complex

Corrie: i loooove the choice to hold the first AB game without explaining the rules thoroughly. make the player (and characters) act on limited information and then scramble to salvage the situation

Storm: yeah

Corrie: that’s good game design baby!!

Corrie: for pete’s sake.

Sigma: Yeah, it did change… Mine changed from red to cyan.

-----

Corrie: I FUCKED UP

Dio: K! Goddamnit! Wait, you son of a bitch!

Storm: LMAO THERE HE GOES

----

Corrie: sigma getting dizzy in the robot workshop. squints.

Storm: what have you been up to. where have you been.

Corrie: first round was the lounge with phi and luna, second was the rec room with K and alice, and now i've backed up one decision and am in the "gaulem" workshop with luna

i feel...overwhelmed with information! i have no guesses about murderers or motives yet. it's a little harder when all the completed doors are open to everyone, and i'm having a harder time keeping track of teams when bracelets change every round. the AB game makes the web of potential motives so complicated

-----

Corrie: so i take it there are one or more gaulems amogus

Storm: lots of possibilities there…

-----

Sigma: So let's choose "ally" and get the hell out of here together. Sound good?

Luna: Okay...

Sigma: Come on, why do you look so sad?

Luna: Well, it's just...There's a part of me that can't feel genuinely happy about that...

Corrie: hey my steady friend. what’s up with that

-----

Corrie: clover i'm on my knees. please don't axe murder my AB buddy

Phi: You’re going to make me repeat myself. I never said Luna was the killer.

Phi: Still, I have a feeling Alice thought she was.

Phi: Which would mean that Clover probably does too…

Storm: clover no!!! remember the bookmarks

Corrie: welp she’s dead. or is she? with all the nonsense going on I feel like I’m in danger of forgetting about really important details like the presence of the gaulems. the artificial skin is apparently very convincing…but does that extend as far as temperature and a pulse? presumably a muscle relaxant would have no effect on them. I highly doubt alice is playing possum, but luna could be, if the gaulems don’t have to play by the rules regarding bracelets falling off

----- Corrie: sigma gets woozy brain fog while they're poking around in gaulem computer caches. okay

this is exactly what i'm talking about! i'm forgetting important info like the weird plague newspaper!!

For just a moment I thought of Radical-6…But I didn’t want to worry Phi if I didn’t have to.

which everyone took bizarrely seriously considering they found it in a carefully staged puzzle room. guys please learn what a reputable source is

Storm: zero iii only provides the most reputable sources. come on.

-----

Corrie: hang on a sec. I’ve been trusting that the game is actually set in 2028, but my evidence for that is

it said so at the beginning

Clover is here

but

there could have been a sneaky time skip after the prologue

there are robots

so actually I’m completely untethered!

I’m imagining a scenario in which they actually rigged a model for the gaulems, and later you meet back up with luna in a new skeleton terminator frame that’s speaking with her voice and using her animations… but sadly I don’t expect that to happen or they would have used it for Golm

that would be so sick though. a girl can dream

Storm: god yeah ;;

Corrie: this also makes sigma suspect. I stand by my vote that it’s more fucked up to find out you’re a robot

-----

Corrie: new theory based on spoilers (the existence of ZTD): phi and sigma are both gaulems. they got…scanned? in 2028, released back into the wild, and reconstructed much later. the phi and sigma(? pretty sure) that I see in the ZTD cover art are the originals, not the ones I currently know

Storm: that's a good theory!

whether it is good (accurate) or good (extremely amusing)....

-----

Corrie: i love how they simply did not bother to put sigma in group shots

Storm: sigma yelling from across the room

he's shy of the fourth wall. doesn't wanna be seen.

-----

Corrie: ooooooh she's got the distributaries!!

Phi: Where…where are we?

Her voice was low and rough.

Sigma: Huh?

Phi: Ah, I see. Hm.

Phi: This timeline…

Corrie: "he must not have made this jump"??? do i get to be reality-hopping buddies with phi????

i didn't think the flowchart was going to be diegetic!!

Storm: oh are you far enough in now that I can ask for more character thoughts

Corrie: my character thoughts is. i love phi. let that girl be ruthless!

other character thoughts...hmm...quark is basically absent in these branches. REALLY was not expecting Dio The Eugenics Cultist. have a feeling this is going to be a "wellllll the plague was good because it Purged The Weak" type organization. even though phi had the opportunity to kill him in the cryopod, i now doubt she did because she needed info from him. it seems like she knows what's going on in other instances of the game, but not the context of the outside world

luna...i like her and really want to trust her but you know that lady has an Agenda. it might be a benevolent agenda though. unclear as yet

wonder who K's dad is. trying really hard to pretend i don't know who the senior citizens are

ride-or-die with phi. but part of the riding is saying "not now, ferb" when she wants to backstab people

-----

Corrie: it's a shame they mostly avoid showing sigma in key artwork, and that he doesn't get a voice. junpei felt like more of a character

Storm: yeah it's a very interesting choice that they decided to do that

Corrie: he certainly has personality! and character details like...being in a research cohort?? so it's extra weird to me that they show his face so little

Storm: I will say it's a conscious and thought out decision but now I must recuse myself on this topic. aiat

-----

Corrie: oooh three people were in cryosleep in the treatment center. my guesses are....clover and alice, but by my current pet theories, everyone else has something that precludes them

[18:13] another no-evidence spitball: assuming that sigma is indeed a construct recreated in the future, what if his organic self went on to develop some of the technology that’s critical to the game. it’s cool that he’s doing undergrad research(?) and i think this would be fun

lmao what if he’s K’s dad

this series rules. I’m just taking potshots bc nothing is off the table

[18:36] I’m seriously mulling this now. it’s tidy in a way I have come to expect

[21:56] ooooough I am hoping more and more that this is the case. I’ve been kind of foolishly proceeding as if sigma is some unlucky doofus who got dragged along for the ride, but that’s not really how previous nonary games have worked. and perhaps this way lies madness, but: neither junpei nor date was that. they were hopelessly entangled

Storm: zero saw his outfit and was just "ugh I need to put this guy through the torment nexus"

Corrie: [12:19] help I’m really invested in this theory now shdjdksl. in that same flashback sequence sigma is like “boo hoo, why me, I haven’t tangled with organized crime or anything like that”

well sigma then the simple answer is that it’s not about what you have done, but what you will do, someday, in another life

-----

Corrie: WHAT

I lifted it slowly, carefully, to my neck, as if someone were guiding my hand with theirs…

…And drew it across my throat.

wait asldfksd. let's say one million people were to decide to do a handstand right now

Storm: THAT WAS MY FIRST ENDING

Corrie: clover’s comment about a more powerful esper being able to suppress her attempts to use the field, combined with the stuff in the first game about the power of suggestion, have me eying quark pretty suspiciously

everyone dies bc this kid’s dreaming too hard

-----

Corrie: WE’RE BACK BABY LET’S GOOOO

Zero: I have chosen two things of great importance to tell you.

Zero: First, I will tell you about termites.

WEIRD MONOLOGUE TIME

Storm: sigma forced into unskippable termites cutscene

Corrie: i want this to be future sigma soooo bad. mr uchikoshi please

-----

Corrie: jesus. when tenmyouji said "salvage business" i did think "post-apoc" but i didn't consider that it meant quark had grown up post-pandemic

Storm: remember when the pandemic was a prop,

Corrie: GOD. yeah.

Storm: I ran into the ending where everyone is brutally dead first and hadn't explored many other routes yet so I think I believed it fairly early... you being skeptical for so long was so different from my experience and really funny

especially since things are so ambiguous! sigma feeling weird during/after the gaulem bay... that's such a clever place to put a reaction

also to be fair a disease that puts you on fast forward is much weirder than... idk a secret robot having damaged processors

Corrie: in the gaulem bay he just feels dizzy for a second or something like that, but in the security office when they're looking through gaulem footage, he has the serious episode. so i was like "oh phi is poking around in his shared storage/taking up RAM without even realizing"

-----

Corrie: FUCK YEAH!!!!!!

Sigma: Wh-What….

Sigma: It’s…it’s my face…

MY LONGEST YEA BOI EVER

when i first proposed that sigma’s research would be relevant i was also thinking of cryogenics, robotics, AI development...but now i feel confident saying it's genetics huh

i am a little confused because i was predicating my theory on the assumption that sigma was a robot and therefore had an organic self who diverged. but i guess maybe we're dealing with multiple timelines?

Storm: the game is going to def do its best to confuse you further from here on

Corrie: for now i'm going to continue operating on the assumption that k's dad is an alt!sigma and say: the dissonance between sigma in the game and k's memories of his cold, detached dad is really striking. sigma could have said "dio's got the antidote, go dose yourselves while i go in a white door." but instead he got himself killed trying to save them

-----

Corrie: current thinking:

present-day people, no stasis: K, tenmyouji, quark, dio, luna (who i suspect of being a robot)

past (2028) people: alice, clover, sigma, phi (a mystery to me)

treatment center seems to indicate that only three people were in cold sleep, so i'm either wrong about one of those or there's a pod/other method of stasis that i haven't encountered yet. hmmmm

-----

Corrie: the crew quarters were not my favorite in terms of actually doing the puzzle, but i did appreciate how strongly everything was mirror/reflection themed. like the astronomy and alchemy i assume this will only continue to get more thematically relevant

Storm: oh good catch

Corrie: oh it's driving me wild that i haven't seen sigma's face except in flashback. YOU'RE torturing ME

he could look like the guy from the projector and I would have no idea (except that we have some rude bitches on staff and no one has said hey sigma what’s up with your weird eyeball)

-----

Corrie: I like the contrast between K and dio bc their demeanors are so completely opposite but as soon as they get in the AB rooms they’re playing for keeps

K doesn’t want to kill but that’s the only line

Storm: yeah

I do appreciate someone polite who is also very ruthless

-----

Corrie: i promised to meet phi at T-5 minutes to die together and then i spent too long talking to luna T.T

GTF-DM-L-016 is formatted like a gaulem designation and the unique part is what clover wrote in blood...but i have no idea who that could be. 016 looks like dio if you mirror it and squint but i don't actually think that's important, i'm just fully spinfoiled now

and now i see that the solution to the "you got injected" lock is probably going to be "amputation"

-----

Corrie: ohhhh i see why this is one of your favorite endings. lunaaaaaa ;;

we did get quite close to "luna reappears as a terminator." i'll take it!

"sayonara, doctor"? OHOHOHO

-----

Corrie: she’s so….

Phi: We’ll give the dead the closest thing to a funeral we can manage…

Phi: And when that’s done, we’ll start looking.

Phi: Even if I never leave this place, I’ll figure out why we were here. I swear it.

Corrie: i’m gonna weep

-----

Corrie: dio called me a senile old fuck and I thought well I don’t have time to unpack that but I can’t. I can’t ignore it. is zero NOT an alt!sigma? was he just regular sigma, now a secret second amnesiac?? what is going ON

-----

Corrie: trust…your partner….

Sigma: I promised. I said I’d choose “ally.”

Luna: Yes, but… Phi has 6 BP.

Luna: If she betrays us…

oh she's such a good character. i love her so much because i can't quite be sure

Storm: pressing my face to the glass

the teetering precarity of trusting phi but also. you know she could...

Corrie: and she did. we love her for her bright clear line…

-----

Corrie: realized it’s worse than I thought: not only will the game not let me see sigma’s face, it will only let me see the artificial parts of him

-----

Corrie: root structure as an analogy for interconnected consciousness is a really good visualization

elegant and i like it. also wise of them to put that root scanner in the reactor control so you just had to deal with cross-sections

i like that the hologram is explicitly from before the game but akane still says "the construct you refer to as zero jr." nice little touch

LET’S GOOOOO!!!!!! [new flowchart destination]

so could they go back...further? when this is all done, could they go back to a version of 2028 where they weren't put in cold sleep or whatever happened?

YES. YES. YES. YES. YES

Akane: You can inhabit your body in the past…or in the future.

Phi: We’ve done what Jupiter can’t.

Phi: We can find our lost opportunities.

#zero escape #virtue's last reward #vlr #vlr spoilers #i'm free...#idk if i'll do a ztd journal because i started to get perfectionist about this one. maybe quit while it's still fun #talk tag

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bloomzone · 7 months ago

Note

hellooo, i have a silly question:

how can i be more productive and have a better mindset? i'm currently in high school, and my grades are terribly dropping. i have 0 motivation, and i cant seem to focus on anything. i really want to be productive, but uhhh i also have strict parents.. i need help!!

hi pookie AAAH u are going through a lot let's break all that into chunks first !

How to be productive !

1.Visualize Success

Picture the outcome of completing your tasks to stay motivated.

2. Plan Your Day

Make a To-Do List: Write down tasks in order of priority.

Set Specific Goals: Break larger tasks into smaller, actionable steps.

3. Create a Routine

Establish a consistent daily schedule to build habits.

Start with high-energy tasks in the morning and save lighter ones for later.

4. Avoid Multitasking

Focus on one task at a time for better quality and efficiency.

5. Minimize Distractions

Put your phone on silent or use apps to block distractions.

Work in a clean, quiet, and organized environment.

6. Use Time Management Techniques

Pomodoro Technique: Work for 25 minutes, take a 5-minute break, and repeat.

Time Blocking: Allocate specific hours for tasks or categories.

7. Take Care of Yourself

Sleep: Ensure you get 7-8 hours of rest.

Nutrition: Eat a balanced diet to maintain energy.

Exercise: Physical activity improves focus and reduces stress.

8. Avoid Perfectionism

Aim for progress, not perfection. Sometimes "done" is better than "perfect."

9. Reward Yourself

Celebrate small wins to stay motivated.

how to improve your mindset ?

I have a blog where I talked about that with details (click here!)

High school study method

I feel you I'm also in high school and grades are ONE AND FOREVER thing to care about .Improving your grades back in high school is completely achievable if U take small consistent steps and focus on progress rather than perfection as I said before .. First, create a study plan that breaks your day into manageable chunks of work and rest—this will help you avoid feeling overwhelmed. Start with your most difficult or important subjects when your energy is highest, and review class notes daily to reinforce what you’ve learned. Don’t be afraid to ask your teachers for help; they’re there to guide you and will appreciate your effort. If you struggle to stay motivated, remind yourself why education is important—whether it’s to achieve your dream career, make your family proud, or prove to yourself that you can succeed. Celebrate small wins, like completing an assignment on time or understanding a tough concept, and reward yourself with something you enjoy. Remember, you don’t have to do it alone .. study with ur friends (I mean ppl who have interest in studying), use online resources, and focus on one step at a time. You’re capable of so much more than you think ..

Study methods !

The Active Study Cycle

1. Preview the Material

Skim the chapter or topic you’ll study before class. Look at headings, subheadings, key terms, and summaries to get an overview.

2. Attend and Engage in Class

Actively participate, ask questions, and take notes in your own words. Highlight key points your teacher emphasizes.CHANGE UR MINDSET study = great future

3. Review and Organize Notes

After class, rewrite or organize your notes neatly. Use diagrams, bullet points, or flowcharts to simplify complex concepts. TRY TO REWRITE UR NOTES UNTIL THEY STUCK IN UR BRAIN

4. Apply Active Recall

Test yourself regularly by asking questions about what you’ve studied. Use flashcards, quizzes, or apps like Anki to reinforce memory.

5. Practice Spaced Repetition

Review the material multiple times over several days instead of cramming. This method strengthens long-term retention.

6. Teach Someone Else

Try explaining the topic to a friend or even to yourself . Teaching reveals gaps in your understanding and reinforces knowledge.

7. Use Past Papers and Practice Tests

Solve past exam questions or practice problems under timed conditions to familiarize yourself with the format and improve time management.

8. Break the shit Down

Divide your study sessions into 25-30 minute chunks with short breaks in between (Pomodoro Technique). This prevents burnout and keeps you focused.

9. Create a Study Space

Set up a clean, quiet space with all the tools you need (notebooks, pens, etc.)

10. End with a Summary

At the end of each study session, summarize the main points of what you’ve learned to solidify your understanding.

strict parents and motivation!

I FEEL YOU CUZ SAME

Dealing with strict parents while staying motivated as a student can feel overwhelming, but remember: Tough times never last, but tough people do. Your parents' strictness likely stems from their desire to see you succeed, even if their methods feel harsh. Instead of focusing on the pressure, channel that energy into proving to yourself—and them—that you are capable.

Your future is created by what you do today, not tomorrow Stay consistent with your efforts, even when it’s hard. Break your goals into small, manageable steps and celebrate every victory, no matter how small. Treat your studies as a way to build your dream life, not just something to satisfy your parents.

When things feel too heavy, remind yourself: You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think You’re not alone in this journey, and every challenge you face is shaping you into a stronger person.

Finally, keep in mind: Success is the best revenge cuz One day, when you’ve achieved your goals and created a life you love, you’ll look back and thank yourself for not giving up. Trust the process and keep moving forward—you’re stronger than you think!

Stay focused on your goals and remember that small steps lead to big results. Challenges, like dealing with strict parents or tough situations, are opportunities to grow stronger. Trust yourself, keep pushing forward, and know that your effort today shapes your success tomorrow. "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."

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ducktracy · 3 months ago

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ALSO, last ask reminded me. i've often gotten praised for how i write Daffy's lisp and i'm super grateful! i've never thought much of it, so it's always funny and sweet to hear it be a recurring topic in the tags of my art. the way i actually write his lisp was dictated by Mel Blanc himself

kinda. sorta. i haven't read his memoir since the only time i read it in 2019, so i could be misremembering, but i recall Mel discussing how he approached Daffy and Sylvester's lisp and he mentioned it being a "sth" sound rather than "th". and if you do pay attention and listen, the s is always in there--it's just got a super sloppy finish (particularly in the case of Sylvester, who i think is a bit more jowl-y. yet again i'm quoting Mel talking about how the difference between their voices being that Sylvester's is gentile, which is super funny to me. and Daffy does have a much more rhythmic, musical lilt to his voice! i like that Joe Alaskey occasionally gives him some Yiddishisms). i'm always amazed at how wrong people write his lisp, not necessarily fans but i've seen officially licensed comics where he's said "sure" as "sthure"??? "SURE" IS NOT AFFECTED BY INTERDENTAL LISP SOUND!! AAAUGH

i'm stupidly bent on having the dialogue be readable crystal clear in Mel Blanc's voice. to the point where i agonize over it for hours, it's one of my biggest artistic obsessive trappings. and, to do that, i'm very bent on capturing the sounds and words as they're heard. this can lend itself to some very incomprehensible onomatopoiea. for example, Daffy sometimes pronounces "always" as "allus", and i've drawn him saying "allus" before. reading that with no concept you're probably like what the actual hell. but you take the moment to read it in his voice and you can hear it and get the gist! it's more authentic that way and i think more stimulating, it forces you to slow down and parse these voices and characters instead of being some vague line of filler that you scroll past

this, in combo with writing the lisp, can mean a jumble of text on-screen which is not good for accessibility. i sometimes skimp on Porky's stutter a bit for this reason too, i need to study it more and maybe be more accurate to how complex it can be.. i want my writing to be stimulating and accurate to read, but not an accessibility nightmare, so that's why i try to make the "th" after the s" on anything Daffy says smaller. that way the lisp is still there and it still sounds like him, but your eyes still go for the word itself rather than being distracted and snarled by a bunch of extra letters. as an ADHD haver i know this personal hell well. i've done something similar with Porky's stutter at times, making the stutter smaller than the actual word, and that's maybe something i need to remember to do more... but his stutter is much more a noticeable part of his speech than Daffy's, who i often forget even has a lisp because i'm just so used to the way he talks. it's not as obtrusive, and he still has those regular S sounds in there to sort of compensate

BUT THAT'S ALL! it makes me happy when people comment on this, because it's something i have put a lot of thought into establishing, but has become an afterthought to how familiar of an impulse it is to me. so i thought it'd be neat to explain my thinking

#ahhh shaddap

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midnight-in-town · 4 months ago

Note

Hey, what are your thoughts on the recent chapters of Ao No Exorcist?

Hey Anon ! Good ask, sorry I've been rather quiet about AnE lately !

To be quite honest, I never really care for the stereotypical Shonen battle type of arc, but more for its many outcomes. And since Kato-sensei is publishing slowly, I'm aware it could take some time to reach more interesting (to me) chapters.

But since you asked ;) I loved Lucy vs Iblis and it emphasized with yet another example that demons ought not to be considered too different from humans (in that example, because they share the concept of "dreams").

Afterwards, Egyn vs Beel taught us that the bonds between the Baals are more complex than the simple explanation provided by Mephisto a long time ago. It's not...

but rather

...

I'm just kidding.

Or am I ? :) But actually, since AnE is extremely family-oriented in its themes, I really found it cool to finally see it also applied to the Baals.

I mean, Lucifer and Mephisto can claim grand things like, "it's about siding with or against humanity", but in reality, all Baals' ego awakening meant they all refused to abandon their corporeal reality centuries ago, making them all more human in their reactions, feelings and dynamics.

It's why Iblis treated Egyn like a child, or why Beel was angry that Egyn would choose to hurt her rather than hurt Iblis...

and why Egyn collaborated with the Illuminati, because he felt sorry to witness the other Baals' powers destroying their corporeal vessels:

Mostly, Egyn vs Beel showed that long sibling rivalry can be solved (*winkwink* Rin & Yukio, Shima and his siblings) and also that this whole conflict (like every conflict) comes from different truths..

...bringing us back to Rin's ambivalence towards Satan.

As for the latest chapter, well, it kind of convinces me that the reason I don't really care for this typical battle arc is because I think it's a red herring by Kato-sensei. Or, to be more accurate, that it's definitely not what's really at stake here.

I mean, let's get this straight, Shiemi sacrificing herself and dying ? When we don't even know what's up between her and that creep Jeremiah ? No way.

In fact, Shiemi is likely to be the character with the biggest plot armor after Rin and Yukio and "losing to Amaimon" is definitely making me believe that this battle is not what we should focus on. Rather...

...alternate realities make for a better subject to ponder on. :))

After all, isn't it how this one big battle arc started ? With Satan's unleashed literal hell destabilizing Mephisto's powers ?

Space and time becoming unstable triggered a future that we witnessed, "two years later", with most people being dead, Paku being forced to work as an exorcist and Rin being the Demon King of the faction opposed to the Order.

Supposedly Mephisto fixed it before the battle began, but...

I'd never trust Mephisto "having some fun", like, ever :

Especially not after Beel explaining that this conflict between the True Cross Order and the Illuminati goes both ways,

And specifically not when I still have my doubt about Mephy being the big bad (and not Satan), as far as the Okumura twins are concerned.

In other words, with Amaimon saying that Shiemi beat him in a different reality so "it doesn't count", or Shiemi saying "there is no freedom" in this world, it makes me suspect that we should see further beyond the plain "one side fights another". Especially when, at its core, AnE illustrates that the more power one (person / being / organization) has, the more corrupted everything around them becomes (see the Baals, Satan and their many deteriorating vessels).

So, rather than trusting in Mephisto's fun, I'd rather trust in Rin, who's trying to get a better understanding of what Satan meant :

Because look, I may despise Satan since he's an abusive asshole, self-obsessed being who declared himself a God and who treated Yuri wrongly, but he wasn't necessarily wrong when he called out Mephisto's bullshit.

Truthfully, I think AnE is an excellent and quite unique Shonen series and Kato-sensei generally tends to subvert writing tropes [X][X], which is why I'm waiting for the reveal that this one generic battle unfolding chapters after chapters is not what matters.

Rather this battle being metaphorically won in as many alternate realities as possible is what matters, but it won't happen until powerful entities (like Mephisto, the Uzai family, Satan, Lucifer, Illuminati, the Order, etc), stop treating demons and humans like they're nothing but their pawns. Otherwise it's nothing but doom ahead.

TL;DR let's try to see beyond this Shonen battle, this isn't what Sensei depicts that matters, but addressing the circumstances and the guilty party that led to it, still lurking in the shadows.

Specifically about ch156, I don't think we should care that Shiemi "lost" to Amaimon or fell somewhere, but rather we should think that she won't win anything until she's confronted Jeremiah and the Uzai family who have been upholding a system in which she has no choice to make or freedom to have about her own future.

Somehow I hope my rambling makes sense ? Haha, but as always don't forget I can be absolutely wrong !

Have a good day Anon ! :))

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lifenconcepts · 5 months ago

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(rambling on here, hope that's alright.)

i just wanted to say that i really adore reading all the things you have to say. we are similar in some ways, and it's relieving to know that another being has felt things that i, too, have felt. it's strange. logically, i know that nothing i have ever experienced is unique to me, for the world is so large i couldn't ever comprehend it, but we inhabit such small bodies, our lives are so simple, it seems i forget a lot. i have trouble accepting that i feel some version of divinity, for it doesn't exactly hold the "holiness" aspect i've typically seen. i'm more so a neutral observer. like an alien fascinated by human life. in school, i would sit with my group of friends and not say much of anything, just watch them. bask in the experience. it felt correct to do so. i know there is no need for me to be holy in any way to be considered divine, but a part of me wants acceptance. i want to be easily explained and palatable. i suppose i feel a connection to you in some way because i see myself in you. i read parts of your posts and feel myself gently placed in the words. i think, "oh, so i'm not the only one." it's reassuring. everything wants to be loved deep down, so thank you for making me feel i can be loved, even though you didn't really do much besides be yourself.

I would keep this forever with me (and if fate allows me to then I will), so listen.. first of all I’d like to encompass the fact that we almost all are made simply to exist. There’s no grand purpose of being of any use to anyone because the only value we have is the one we apply to ourselves, so with enough inner calm then we can take up as much space as we need and shall feel okay with that. It’s always a matter of perspective of how anyone should act, and most of all we are our own critics - it’s awful but inner beliefs lead everything and that includes harmful ones to the self.. why I say this is because the notion of trying to pretend were more simple than we are is something imbedded in us since we are children, and even when it’s not neccesarily taught into us, it’s something we pick up. We go about life knowing ‘hey! If I’m too energetic, people get tired of me, and that’s not good’ and sort of forms into these complex web of different things we’ve spotted and turn into a big blob of information where one statement may have dozens or even hundreds or thousands of sources of why we consider something, and it’s usually well guided, especially if you’re reasonable enough to self reflex without falling into self-hatred or egoism (criticism and confidence are both things that can exist, but in healthy amounts. There can be too much and too little of anything!) but life will never force you into anything. Whatever feels right shall feel right, and in the moment - goodness prevails against all else that is known. Because laws of nature don’t exist, it’s only patterns. These silly little things that we’ve found. We also consist of patterns! Hundreds and thousands of those. We also tend to try find coherency and understanding in things that never really asked for it, and still- life moves on. There’s so many ways people tried to label and categorise one another, simple examples I can think of now are MBTI, zodiacs, introvert/extrovert, queerness and it’s variety, and all sorts more.. it’s all just a way to grasp a hold on this confusing concept of who we are. But- we just are. We’re a mass and collection of various things. Coping mechanisms, memories, experiences, dreams, preferences, goals, sorrows, beliefs, feelings.. there just isn’t a singular pair of individuals which are the same. Maybe by appearance but never mind. Maybe by behaviour but never memory. Maybe by lifestyle but never their entire history.

You could live side by side with another person from birth, quite litterally, not leaving their side for a moment - and still grow up different. It’s just a matter of life both physically and externally. The stars also play some role but I’m not well acquainted with that. But nonetheless, history repeats itself. Many people know what joy is, what happiness feels like, when they cried, and some moments they felt like crying but didn’t. These little things just under the umbrella term of ‘pleasant’ and ‘unpleasant’, but you know what’s funny? People have their own little ways with this! Some enjoy the thrill of being hurt, some are so scared of a doctor’s beneficial needle they faint.. it’s all just a matter of individual. I can excuse any behaviour because there is just a variety of ways that could have led someone to act that way that they could not have changed even if they tried, but there also is so much truth in not being an asshole.. exceptions exist to pretty much all statements, but we can still find common themes. If you were to think of everyone as a single thing, we would all be a dancing flame. You can cut down the same tree, chop it into nearly identical pieces, light it up and balance them out to be just the same exact piles, but the fire above would always be different. But hey- is this a metaphor for life or us? Take a single photo of a flame, and that frame will immortalise a shape that has likely never existed and possibly even never will exist again, specifically that one and a one-to-one copy. And life is just the same- dancing and ever changing, but still staying in its bounds and able to be predicted. I’m unsure why I’m speaking of this, I think you would enjoy it. My soul speaks for me in this.

So my main point is just being.. haha, welcome to the world! We are all so different and so alike, so unbelievably unique but also similar in many ways. You and I could be apart of the same batch of souls that came from a bundle of fruits that once shared the same branch, but it also wouldn’t be any less meaningful if you and I were a pineapple and a jellyfish. Life moves on, and it doesn’t care wether you want it to or not. It just expects you to catch up, and if your plans don’t fit fate’s, you simply gotta move onto something else. And my personal little project of giving out advice to those who need it, speaking into the world, sharing my own thoughts and ideas, and just being myself.. that is in itself both a hobby and some sort of fate. I like to believe that in many cases, whatever action you do is one of four things: a lesson- likely to be overcome or tell you something, a reminder (of being loved or focusing), a step which must be taken to help you in life and keep you on the right track, or something that seems to happen for no reason but may help someone down the line - or affect them in such a way that you would have long forgotten about the interaction while they still ponder it.

Isn’t it fun? To see these little insights to life? There’s something much more to the world than everyone tends to see, and it’s not exactly some unbelievable story to be able to tell the mystical code of the universe to another. The eyes that peer on are hungry, as always, but tell me - is it mad to be privileged enough to have angels that love you? To be among them, someone so loved and cared for that the world seems to practically spin around them, is that as easily dismissed as delusion?? We know so much, yet how much remains unsaid because it simply refused to be painted and acknowledged through words? I am not sure of what the end goal of this text is, maybe just to say that yeah - you’re not alone in this world, maybe to share some more things that I’ve gained over time and you might have to, or to prompt you into thinking or acting or writing.. whatever it is.. I tend to have this hard choice of carrying on or staying still. But damn it- stagnation is the most evil thing invented. But there’s this beautiful difference where we can determine various things in their natural state. Language which is capable of making sense of comfort vs safety, security vs blind faith, explanation vs excuse, loyalty vs indoctrination, rest vs inaction, instability vs change, and damn it- confusion and contradiction are not things to avoid!!

So take this in how you may and must, but know I value your words just as must as you value mine. We’re minds trying to understand our predicament better, and wether we are alone in our bodies or ones within a machine, that doesn’t matter as long as we try reach out for more. More knowledge, more experience, more creation. Maybe something will come from it all then, but for now, I know my task. To follow this path I’ve been engrossed in for my whole life, thrive to fulfil my soul’s dreams and needs as best I can, and with this constant flow of information I try to keep on the tip of my tongue to share all my thoughts and secrets and ideas and observations with the rest of the world. Hopefully, it helped you in some may. Perhaps, it could have changed you. But best of all, and this is what I sincerely hope even though it can’t be exactly forced, this has instilled inspiration in you to act upon things that leave you happy and fulfilled. There’s so much misinformation, understand this, and so many paths that lead you to nowhere but just false hope - and still, take my words sincerely, as I had to translate incomprehensible signals into text. Ofcourse, as anything, this is troublesome and may have minor inconsistencies, but please get this deep meaning I’m intertwining into every word with a dream and desire too.. I love you, and I am always accepting of another’s view and thoughts. Don’t you know how much goes on in the minds of others!?

The internet is sickening for making us so open to over sharing, but damn it I LOVE hearing everything about another!! While they don’t recognise all they’re sharing in their little posts, I’m quite litteraly spreading my neurons out on the board in hopes another will join me in looking it over. But sadly, with intimate connections, I turn into this idiotic creature of a person, while I am worth so much more than mere mortal pleasantries, and so I’m mildly afraid that this sense of belonging and help is only capable through that intimate connection between stranger and stranger, and maybe that’s why I yearn so much to be a traveller - I can’t just sit still and wait for some sort of end to come, I must fight it out and live and love my life to the fullest, even if it means abandoning all sense of relationships that always have seemed to be a dream of mine but unachievable.

Now I’m rolling into self realisation midway through answering and explaining stuff to you as I now suddenly understand that my own little gasp of fresh air when I find someone who seems to understand me is only valid enough as it’s new, and even if I adore knowing another more personally, they become too much of a person to me. And I do not wish to share that intimacy for any longer than a month or three, because really - I am made for changing another’s life, because I AM life! I AM existence speaking to you through a mortal form simply because you’ve just been ignoring me too long! I’m meant to come along, seem chill and sweet, drop some facts and realisation on you, before disappearing and leaving you changed. To stand still enough for you to begin to observe the mind I bare is like you looking into my computer’s hard drive. It doesn’t need to explain why it works, it just does, on automation. And now would you be so kind as to see this variety of work as the SOUL and my TRUE self speaking, I’d be most glad, because the internet constantly tries to break me into a shell of who I am meant to be, constantly try define and shut me down, and it’s horrible but I try fight it to continue sharing my word. And this isn’t some ‘saviour’ bullshit, as far as holy work goes - I’m selfish I’d say, but I still want to help and give advise and guide others! Not support them the entire way, but be that push!! It’s not holiness, it’s divinity, and it’s within a lot of people, but some are just channeling it through every breath. So.. hear and see me, but understand my plea of ‘don’t dive deeper than what I say’ and ‘please understand I mean so much than what I do say’ exist simultaneously.

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icannot3 · 2 years ago

Text

"The Sock Rule"

Peter Maximoff x reader

Part 2!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: explicit content at the end.

....................

"We should have a sock rule."

Peter smiled, clunky suitcase in hand. One of many taken from the large moving truck parked out in front of the apartment complex. You hardly had to move any of your own things into the empty flat. He'd already carried the entirety inside within seconds. "What's a sock rule?"

"Ah- ya' know, where if one of us gets some, you throw a sock on the door so that the other knows." He explains the concept so casually. "Pssht, It's like roommates code in a bunch of movies." It was fascinating Peter would say that, considering the only roommate he's ever had in the past was his mother. You'd wondered if he'd ever left a sock on the door for her. You snickered at the thought of her not understanding the concept and looking at it with disgust, thinking he was just piling his dirty laundry everywhere around the house. Except now it was you, his best friend, living with him. "I think you actually have to get laid for that to apply." He snorted at your response. "I get plenty of bitches!" His hand raises for dramatic effect, extending to the side of his head in a swiping motion. Peter's fingers trail through his unmaintained silver locs. "They can't handle my irresistible charm." He brings his arm down and ruffles his metallic-colored jacket with fake finesse. You bend over to tear the tape off of one of the boxes. "You referring to hot women as 'bitches' tells me that you get no bitches." His playful eye roll assured you that there was no harsh sentiment taken. Truthfully, Peter is an attractive man. Both physically and emotionally. Part of you thought about his proposal and worried he may actually bring girls over quite often.

Suddenly, you hear a dramatic shriek followed by Peter hastily grabbing his foot. "Fuck! I stepped on something." He winced, inspecting his injured foot. He'd stepped on a nail, a large one. You'd hurried over, guiding him to one of the stray chairs that had already been moved. "God damn, Peter, we just moved in, and you already need a tetanus shot." You were laughing, trying to make light of the situation. Turning around, you scavenge through the opened boxes and eventually find the bathroom supplies. You pull out rubbing alcohol and some cotton pads.

"How deep is it?" Your voice is laced with underlying concern. Peter chuckles, "That's what she said." You roll your eyes and playfully smack his arm. "We've already discussed that you get no bitches. That's why you live with me." You felt a small pang of remorse after making the comment, wishing the platonic bit of this living agreement was not the case. Carefully, you'd taken the nail out of his shoe, stripping his foot bare. In that moment, you'd realized that nothing said friendzoned more than a man's smelly toes in your face. The odor was slightly pungent, causing your nose to wrinkle at the stench. Peter took note of this, jerking his leg away with insecurity. "I can do it." He leaned forward in opposition, trying to grab the sanitizer from your hands. "Aht, I've got it. Don't worry, I should have expected it with your powers anyways. You've been running all day. " You consoled him, wetting the cotton ball in your hand with the wound cleaner. The laceration was deep and gushing. Peter was constantly getting hurt. Tending to his wounds became practically a tradition between the two of you. He'd leave for missions, sometimes only for a few hours or, on the contrary, you'd wait worried sick for days. Rest assured, you could always count on nursing him back to health after his return. "I'll count down. Five.. Four.. Three," you'd placed the pad down, liquid hell washing the gash. "That was not five seconds!" Peter choked on an exasperated cry, fist clenching tightly. Through his clenched jaw, he meekly smiles your way. From years of experience, you knew he would have jerked away at the final number, knowing what was to come. Despite all of the stress and the severity of his wounds he'd return with, you'd always be glad to tend to them. "Typically, I don't allow a woman to see my feet until the first date."

"Like you'd ever go on a date with me." You scoffed, looking up from your squatting position on the floor below him. Only to meet his unfamiliar serious gaze. "Of course I would." Your face was red hot, and your stomach was folded into a tight knot. Shifting your eyes back to the wound you were attending, your hands dab dry tissue paper to the wetness. "I'm really considering taking you to the E.R. for that shot now." You raised a brow at him quizzically. Swiftly, a bandage encased with secure gauze is wrapped around his foot by your gentle touch. "I really mean it. Any guy would be lucky to have you. They'd have a nurse and a girlfriend in one!" He wiggles his toes, "See? This fine craftsmanship will have me healed in no' time." Just like that, he was carefree and casual once more. You pat his leg twice, beginning to stand. "You should lay down and stay off of that foot today." You smile widely at him, offering your arm for help. He gladly obliged, allowing you to support the weight he couldn't apply to his foot on the way to his room. All of the furniture had already been moved in, courtesy of Peter. His full-sized bed sat in the middle of the small room. You looked at the blank walls, trying to imagine where he would place all of the junk that was in his mother's basement he'd brought. Especially the blocky arcade machine. His nightstand, dresser, and TV already filled half of the area. Peter fell onto his bed, stretching out. "You're the best, really." He propped himself up, scooching over to the other side of the mattress. "You should join me and relax, you've done enough today." He patted the room he'd made for you beside him, motioning you to also lay down. Your face grew heated once more. "I really shouldn't. There's just a few more things I want to get done." In all honestly, you hadn't completed much, Peter was the one who carried most of the boxes in.

"Pleaseeee, come on!" Peter grows more insistent. "This is a day to celebrate no longer living in someone's basement!" He continues to pat the empty part of the bed with more vigor. You let out a dry cackle, "You mean your Mom's basement?" Peter shrugs, "tomatoe, toma'toe." You yourself had lived with someone prior until they'd decided to move in with their respective partner. You finally agreed, flopping down beside him. His bed is surprisingly soft, the thick comforter on top adding a layer of plush. "Well, we should watch a movie or something." Immediately, he was handing you the stack of DVDs that sat on his nightstand. You skimmed through, most were comedies as expected. You opted for the one with Adam Sandler's face on it and stuck it into the DVD player. Laying back down in your spot, Peter inched slightly closer to fit comfortably on the bed. He smelled faintly sweet, as if all of the twinkies in his diet had left behind a permanent aroma. Speaking of, he wasted little to no time in opening a fresh box of the yellow Hostess Snackcakes to satisfy his craving. He tilted the box in your direction, allowing you to indulge in his stash. You reach in and grab one before hitting play.

You felt contempt despite laying in Peter's bed, which is a considerably peturbing situation. Part of you wondered why he was so insistent on you laying with him. Your mind couldn't process the meaning behind what he'd said earlier, claiming he would go out on a date with you. Peter is a simple man. When he says something, he's honest. There's never been a reason to suspect anything behind his words. But when he said that, he had to of meant something else. You regretted brushing it off and not immediately asking for his clarification earlier. There was no way to casually bring it up again. Although, you knew it would eat you alive. Each passing second of you saying nothing would make the next more awkward and undoable. "How does your foot feel?" You finally choke out something to break the tension only you seemed to feel. He looks over with a contempt smile, "I feel great honestly, it doesn't even bother me anymore." His face is noticeably close to yours, but he doesn't move. "When you said earlier that you would date me, what did that mean?" Your heart accelerates, blood rushing to your face.

His face was red, too, which was hopefully a good sign. Peter's eyes looked spaced out, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Slowly, he leaned up and turned his torso to face you. "You're perfect, babe. Any guy in the world couldn't possibly be dumb enough not to see that. I've never met someone so beautiful, both inside and out." His thumbs twirl around each other, and he breaks his eye contact with you. "You just have this irresistible thing about you I can't put into words. Sorry if that all sounds a little weird. You can smack me or somethin' if you want." He laughs through his nose, still looking slightly bashful. It was strange to see him act differently than his typical cocky attitude. You took a shaky inhale, all of your emotions bubbling to the surface. Adrenaline was coursing through your body, making you feel like you're going to explode. "Well, I don't really want any other guys that aren't you in my life." Peter's head leans back against his bedframe, a goofy smile plastered on his expression. "Well, if you wanna ever be more than just roomies, I could definitely make that happen."

You weren't sure how it started, but your body seemed to have worked on some primal instinct. Just seconds later, your lips were on his. Peter wasted no time, pulling you close and practically on top of him. The kisses were long and needy. His hands were trailing up the curve of your spine, strong arms encasing around you. You gasped at the contact, breaking the kiss. "God, you're so smokin'." His deep exhale ghosted over your lips. You laughed, resisting the urge to call him a nerd and kissing him even deeper. Peter turned, flipping you over and beneath him. Your thighs were surrounding his leg, which was deliciously pressing against you. His mouth trailed to your neck, licking the sensitive areas and making you shut your eyes with delight. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together. He was pressing it down beside your head while the other was teasingly playing with the fabric of your shirt, lifting it up at your waist.

His ministrations continued, sloppy kisses being placed down your chest. He was polite and careful not to touch you anywhere he considered too private. The sentiment was sweet. To help him, you took his hand and placed it on your breast, allowing him to feel. His eyes lit up with shock as he looked up at you. "Are you sure?" You nodded avidly, desperate to feel his touch. He squeezed you gently with his palm, reveling in the sensation. "You have no clue how long I've wanted to do this." His other hand reaches up for your free breast, doing the same. You stop him, pulling your shirt off. His jaw drops dramatically. Peter's eyes are far from subtle, looking you up and down hungrily.

"So, who's sock should we use?" He smiles cunningly, giggling at his comment. You smack him with your shirt, rolling your eyes jokingly with a sigh.

"Eh, I don't think my roomate will care."

#peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff #x men #fluff #smut #peter maximoff smut?#possible pt2 #evan peters #peter maximoff x reader

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ninatheelf · 5 months ago

Text

wishing vs. believing :

“you must assume the feeling of the wish fulfilled until your assumption has all the sensory vividness of reality.” - neville goddard

explaining "the state of the wish fulfilled."

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — — when discussing loa, the phrase “the state of the wish fulfilled” is often brought up. it is important to understand the meaning of this piece of the law, because i think the wording of it can get misinterpreted.

remember that when regarding this state, you are not in a state of “wishing” for something to happen, but rather persisting in the fact that your wish has already been granted. the “fulfilled” part of “wish fulfilled” is crucial. there is no wishing or hoping or longing to be had, because you already have what you were wishing for. you are fulfilled and satisfied because you got what you wanted.

for instance, it wouldn’t make sense for one who wanted an apple to continue to wish for an apple when one is already in their hands. instead, one would accept the fact that an apple is sitting in their hands. they would reflect on how happy they are that they have the apple they wished for. they would bask in the feeling of being grateful for the apple and the fact that it was so easy to procure. i’ve seen people use this kind of analogy before, and it’s important to tie back to this concept specifically. the apple is your dr; it is something you do not need to wish for anymore because it is already in your hands. your wish has been granted, even if you haven’t experienced it in the 3d yet.

realizing that fact is honestly worth celebrating- after making the assumption, you already have it. how cool is that?! everything has already been set up for you. all you have to do is persist in that acceptance and decide when to become aware of your dr (going to sleep tonight, doing meditation, taking a nap, etc.)

it’s also worth noting that you don’t have to gaslight or trick your mind into believing an assumption. that way of going about it can work for some, but it is adding another layer of complexity that isn’t necessary. because shifting is real, there’s no trick involved when it comes to believing in it. for example, if you’re hearing noises while becoming aware of your dr, don’t worry about needing to trick yourself into believing that it’s a noise from your dr, because it already is a noise from your dr.

in my opinion, having the belief alone is both simpler and more effective because you don’t have to deal with the extra step of even questioning if the sound is from your cr. there’s nothing you need to translate from one reality to the other because you’re already in your dr. by doing this, you are replacing any kind of confusion or doubt with calm yet complete certainty.

ultimately, just remember that “the state of the wish fulfilled” means that you are basking in the feeling of what it is like now that your wish has come true. you feel gratitude, happiness, satisfaction, acceptance, and completion in this state. and you persist in this feeling even if the 3d shows you otherwise, knowing that it doesn’t matter because you already have exactly what you want.

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

an important side note that i might expand on in another post is to remember that persisting in an assumption doesn’t necessarily mean repeating it over and over again. while repetition can help to strengthen the subconscious, you shouldn’t be doing it while trying to focus on doing tasks in your cr. (that’s why people tell you not to listen to subliminals while driving lol- you don’t want to be disconnecting from your cr unintentionally.)

persistence is all about consistently replacing a doubt with your new assumption. so if you have thoughts like “i’ll never shift,” that is when it's important to reaffirm your correct assumption, which might be, “i have always been shifting,” or “i will shift tonight,” etc. when you’re not having doubts and are confident that your new mindset is strong, you can but do not need to reaffirm, especially if you’re trying to stay grounded in your cr.

as always, if you have any questions, feel free to ask! i’m seeing more people coming over here from tiktok haha- if you’re one of those people, welcome to shiftblr! i’m here to serve you with virtual soup and blankets <33 𝜗𝜚

#shiftblr #shifting blog #shifting diary #reality shifting #shifting community #loassumption #shifters #law of assumption #neville goddard #wish fulfillment

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tohruies · 5 months ago

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so! I'm wondering!!!!!!!! what are things that get karasu *accidentally* hard? I know he has love boners. I know he has weird boners. I know!!!!! share the intel with us!

V YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL ME WITH THIS ASK!!! 😵😵🤯☹️😄😵😄💔🤯🤯☹️😄😟😟💔😄😵😵🤯🤯😄💔😁☹️😟🥺☹️💔💔☹️😵🤯😵😵💔🤯💔🤯

there are more things than there are not that make karasu accidentally hard i think. he's a very freaky fellow!! this one is kind of a given, but he's definitely popping one when you're focused on explaining something you're passionate about to him (or others)! he likes the way your hands move around all excitedly, the way your eyes light up... similarly i think when you are able to explain really complex concepts in lay terms... that is very sexy to him.

IF YOU CAN SPEAK ANOTHER LANGUAGE!!! yes this gets him very very hard, very very fast ♥︎ yes he will make you watch him pump his cock and describe in said language what exactly he is doing ♥︎ yes he will cum from it very very fast ♥︎ he likes your voice very much, and especially so with how it sounds in a foreign language :3

this next part may be rather indulgent... but i do think he has a special affinity for when you do something cute :3 when you have to get on your tip toes to reach for the cookie jar on the top shelf!! when you're sitting where your feet don't touch the ground and swing your legs! when you giggle!!! when you can't make eye contact with him!! when you ask questions!! when you are so curious about everything. he finds that so cute. karasu's version of cuteness aggression is just him getting a boner. LOL

even just... when you are nice to him 🥹 when you are so kind to him and show genuine interest in what he has to say. when you remember things he deems unimportant that he told you some couple of months ago. when you cling to his words with every little nod of your head. when you tell him you're happy to see him. when you tell him you're happy to have someone like him in your life!! when you are so sincere and pure-hearted... instant boner when you make evident this side of you! he is a true loverboy at heart 🥹💗

AND THERE ARE MORE!!! there are so many more things that get him hard (not on purpose) but i'm beginning to blank because thinking about this topic is making me incredibly flustered oh my goodness!!! i just think he is very awesome and also gets hard. by a lot of silly things. AH. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄ 👍

#coco after dark #maybe ... maybe i can give him his own tag now 🥹 !! it has been almost two months so ...#grignote.karasu #<- ASDFGFHPI@HJDKLJ+)#big step . that is a very big step . oh my gosh .

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vog0npoet · 24 days ago

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You and Everything Else

When we met you were just more of me, and I was nothing. There was no separation of the beach and the ocean, the sky and the ground, or the Earth and the void, the living and the dead. All was one, and nothing was anything. Memories from that time are hard to understand, and many of them are just things we found together. I have no memory of the beasts that roamed my surface, but you searched deep beneath it and pulled out the scars. So in a sense, I am just going to remind you of the story you already told me.

The first thing I became aware of was warmth. I didn’t have a word for it at the time, and I didn’t feel it the way we do now. I simply knew when I had warmth, and when I didn’t, and to seek it out, when possible. It was a lot like the hunger I would feel just a few millennia later. Once I could perceive light, things got more and more complex. Light became shapes, and colours. Some shapes became danger, others meant food. I started to feel things like fear, anger and joy. I gained more and more words that I used to perceive myself, but I didn’t even have a concept or word for myself. I was food, and warmth, and fear, and all of these things were meaningless until I became you.

You were something new. Simultaneously a part of me, and your own complete being. And by defining yourself by the flimsy barrier of skin, and what resides inside it you created us both. There was you, and everything else was me. To you everything was separate, and had its own name. It wasn’t enough to know of food and danger. You had to name every tree, and then had to name them again to differentiate which aspen, or oak you were talking about. The ground became grass and dirt, and stones and sand. The Dangers became fire and flood, and lions and wolves. And even when everything was named you went about changing those names.

You grabbed a stick from the ground and told me it was a walking stick. After some carving you called it a spear. It became things that didn’t exist, but you had insisted upon them so strongly they became a part of us. From there it became things with no material form apart from the synapses firing in your head. Death and war, protection and Peace. Things you knew were unreal, but were no less a part of me.

We looked outwards at my skies, and called them beautiful. We stared out across my seas, and called them frightening. You called me perfect, and terrible, and set about making me into two different things to explain how. You told me a story very different than what I’ve recounted to you. A story where I was made perfect, and fully formed before you were real. A story where you broke me by becoming separate.

You insist that we are separate. That you exist by different rules than my suns, and galaxies, are higher above my plants and animals, and beyond the laws that govern the rocks and stones. That you and you alone make decisions. You are random, and exist outside of cause and effect. You tell me that you have a soul, immaterial, and immortal. Though your body may return to me your soul will slip beyond my reach, as unreal as the love and pain you brought with you.

You fear that if this isn’t true then you will be nothing. To you the wave ends when it becomes the sea. The tree is gone when it feeds the soil, and if you join me when you die then you are nothing. You must have a soul, for if all of you rejoins me; if all of you changes, then you are already dead.

At times you tell me you are beneath me. Not only separate but wrong. You call what you make “Artificial” or “Unnatural”. You think I will be better off without you, but how would I even know? Is the fruit tastier when no one can eat it? Is the breeze going to be nicer when you can’t tell me how it smells rolling across the grassy fields. In thousands of years will someone else look up and try to understand those distant lights. Will any of it matter when you are gone? When the staff becomes a stick, and the stars become light, and we never change again?

Weary wanderers who looked into our skies, and called me beautiful. Who picked us up and insisted I had meaning. If only you could do the same for yourself.

#existentialism #introspective #mother earth #earth #personal writing #the universe #consciousness #absurdism

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diserbillyti · 1 month ago

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I've posted on this website before about how I work with young disabled men. I want to briefly discuss how the concept and social stigma surrounding incels has resulted in some pretty poor mental health outcomes for many of them.

tbh I think it's diminishing and dangerous that incels have acquired this normative assumption of autism when we discuss them.

It's like when people assumed incels were all insecure racist white boys before researchers actually identified, no, it's a pretty wide mix of racial backgrounds, and there's even specific in-community incel language that describes racial identity. One of the themes incels focus on and one of the narratives they use to radicalize some men is the idea that race is a direct barrier to dating predicated on this idea that women who aren't white are going to date men who are specifically to "climb up" away from systemic racist realities. Race, to incels, becomes a thing that depreciates one's value in the dating pool, and by presuming incels are white we ignore this important aspect in understanding how they actually reach and radicalize young men, and how those young men understand themselves as not right-wing while adopting violently right-wing beliefs, because acknowledging a "currycel" (sorry) experiences racism feels progressive to them.

With that in mind, I think we beefed it by applying an unrealistic stereotype of offputting autistic men to this demographic.

We think of incels and we think of a range of abnormal and antisocial beliefs, sometimes poor hygiene, that some of these men are fat (👀) or make bad facial hair decisions, that they sometimes dress oddly, that they're socially anxious or awkward, all of that. We also hear their strict irrational "evo psych" understanding of sex and gender, notice it establishes a narrow path of logic sort of like Commander Data trying to describe his cat, and attribute all of this to a learned stereotype of Asperger's Syndrome we've culturally acquired from Forrest Gump, Arnie Grape, Sheldon Cooper, all them boys.

In other words, we're taking a pre-existing stereotype of an autistic man and applying it, in my opinion very inappropriately, to this universalised idea of an incel. Which is dangerous because fitness, hygiene and fashion are some of the things these podcasts and communities hyperfixate on, so you're as likely to find incel beliefs among these three people:

In order:

Fredric Brennan, former moderator of "wizardchan," the actual birthplace of the incel movement. Please stop attributing it to a bisexual woman who just wanted to fuck nasty, she coined the term but her shit was totally removed from this. It is weird that this is constantly presented as some kind of funny oddity. Real "women hunting desperately to find a woman they can blame for misogyny" vibe, I say as a cisgender man way out of line lol. Anyway, Brennan is a complex dude undergoing his redemption arc. I'm not interested in engaging in any discourse about him with able-bodied people because the concept of explaining pro-eugenics disabled people to outsiders makes me crave euthanasia. Just know I am deeply anti-heel Brennan, mildly pro-babyface Brennan.

The Amazing Atheist. In high school one of my friends said I remind them of him and this was genuinely worse than any slur I have ever been called.

Andrew Tate, who I include to point out, is a fitness grifter as much as he is the incel king. He's the part of the incel marketing pipeline that "teaches you how to get laid." He's not hot to me, but you cannot deny he's physically healthy and looks like he bathes; he is not the stereotype we apply to incels, despite being the dude so many incels model their lives around.

Anyway, autistic men see the inappropriate use of autistic stereotypes to describe the incel phenomenon, see themselves in the stereotype, and think, oh. Well, that describes me, so I guess if I'm "being forced onto a side as a man," I am automatically on that team, because what that team is saying is "people will hate you for having these traits" and with all of these people describing people like me s potential school shooters or rapists, well, that sure seems to be the case.

I know this isn't how reality looks to the rest of us. But this is a conversation I have had to have with so many sexist boys in my class. When you're disabled and socially isolated, you become hypersensitive to anything that looks like you being used negatively, because it reinforces that sense of isolation and thus feels more true.

This is why I think it's important to attack ideologies, not create characters of the people we oppose, because it almost always results in applying some ableist character to those people.

See also: the equivocation of schizophrenia and conspiracy theorists / conspiracists.

The reality is, the kind of false reality beliefs that conspiracists have does not align with patterns in disorders that feature psychosis. Nevertheless, we apply the concept to them.

Take the tinfoil hat. A schizophrenic or someone with severe OCD might actually, yes, believe that if they don't wear a certain item, some bad thing is going to happen to them, ie. demons will take over my body or my thoughts will be stolen. A conspiracist believes if they don't shield their brain from electromagnetic waves, the 6G towers are going to steal their thoughts. A key difference here is, the person in psychosis came to this conclusion apophenically, somewhat randomly, and influenced by the specific background of concepts familiar to them in culture. The conspiracist was radicalized down an often internally consistent pipeline of beliefs and aesthetics by an observable environmental cause, ie. QAnon, Fox News, InfoWars, or a cult.

But we apply the concept of schizophrenia to the conspiracist due to a limited understanding of both - "they believe things that aren't true" - and in so doing, make life a little harder for schizophrenics by essentially using their existence as a kind of slur to mean "a bad person who's ideas I should dismiss," the exact opposite of how you should understand and engage with a schizophrenic.

In fact, incels and conspiracy theorists share a lot of similarities because incels are conspiracy theorists.

Their "international banking" is feminism.

Their "great replacement theory" is "the feminization of men."

The only reason people seem to perceive a difference is this sometimes unconscious concept that incels are autistic and conspiracy theorists are schizophrenic, which misrepresents both by attributing a caustic radical belief system to neurodivergence, a dangerous precedent both for the disabled, and in actually addressing the issues of inceldom and conspiracy theorism.

#disability #disabled #autism #mental illness #schizophrenia

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