#but to be honest I’m not sure I like what it says about most institutions that theyd want to do it on the cheap

[et-excrucior]

So I’m going to highlight something I’m not sure people who like skeletons and curiosities think about often:

the human skeletal remains you see for sale in oddities shops were invariably grave-robbed.

I worked with human remains in an academic research context in the US for more than a decade. One of the first things I tried to teach my students was respect for the remains in our collections, not only because they were people, deserving of dignity in their death, but also because most of the skeletal remains in academic teaching collections were not donated voluntarily. In most cases, we have no idea exactly where they came from or to whom they belonged.

Historically, there has been a huge international trade in human skeletal remains for teaching medical students. The trade reached its peak in the 19th Century and continued for much of the 20th, and while ostensibly the practice was banned in India in 1985, it does still exist illegally. In the US and Europe, most of the remains in teaching collections were sourced from India through bone traders. Bone traders were (are) lower caste people charged with disposing of human remains—often by cremation, but also by interring in graves—but instead of doing so, sold the remains on to medical schools in the US/Europe through the intermediary of anatomical and medical supply companies. These anatomical specimens are the remains of people who were, unknowingly and without consent of their loved ones, denied their humanity in death to satisfy the appetite of the West for anatomical specimens, despite the remains of their own people being considered largely sacrosanct.

Which leads me to my next point: this practice originated under British Colonialism in India. I hope I don’t need to draw this point out, but objectification of these remains by medical students and researchers is a furtherance of the Western colonial project and othering of people of colour. As medical students, we’re trained to divorce ourselves emotionally from the remains we learn from in the name of professionalism. Medicine can often be confronting, and it serves patients and doctors alike to be able to continue working calmly and objectively in the face of those challenges. But in a world where empires and scientific disciplines have been (and continue to be) built on a legacy of scientific racism and dehumanisation, it behooves us to consider exactly how those teaching specimens were acquired—and how they came to be for sale.

Any human skeleton or human bones you see for sale in oddity stores are invariably retired teaching specimens, or were otherwise originally purchased through an anatomical specimen supply company that leveraged bone traders for acquiring their wares. In other words, those remains were grave-robbed, or stolen from funeral pyres and morgues. It is vanishingly unlikely that they are remains of known, ethically-sourced provenance like informed donation. If they were, they would not have been relinquished to the general public to be sold for profit. There would be contractual obligations that dictate how those remains would be managed once they need to be retired from teaching/decommissioned.

Please keep this in mind when you see human remains for sale in oddity shops. Buy plastic or ceramic teaching models instead. Don’t unwittingly continue creating a market for stolen human remains.

[cath-lic]

Hello, I was wondering if you believe non-Christians can be saved? I know many Catholics believe everyone that doesn't accept Jesus will go to hell. Personally, I find this outlook very sad and I was curious on other points of view so please anyone respond with their own opinions. I mean to ask you this: If God is love and is forgiving of our sins, why would he send everyone to hell simply because they could not find their way to him?

hi!! YES absolutely everyone is saved!! now, everyone and their brother has a conflicting opinion on this, but i’ll throw in my two cents.

my first, more concrete point: john 3:16. the everyman’s verse!!

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

okay, but what if someone doesn’t believeth? vatican ii’s lumen gentium, no. 16, also covers this. (italics added by me)

Those also can attain to everlasting salvation who through no fault of their own do not know the gospel of Christ or his Church, yet sincerely seek God and, moved by grace, strive by their deeds to do his will as it is known to them through the dictates of conscience. Nor does divine Providence deny the help necessary for salvation to those who, without blame on their part, have not yet arrived at an explicit knowledge of God, but who strive to live a good life, thanks to his grace.

however, it’s important to note LG no. 14. bear with me here.

Whosoever knowing that the Catholic Church was made necessary by God through Jesus Christ would refuse to enter her or to remain in her could not be saved.

i’m not a theologian, i’m just joe off the street—so i may be taking things out of context. forgive me!

however—as much as i am catholic, i believe that this is putting WAY too much importance on the catholic church as we know it today. it is far, far different than the original organization founded upon the rock of st. peter, and i believe that there are many things that god takes issue with in the catholic church (notoriously, jesus criticized large institutions like these). therefore, i don’t know how much i believe that the catholic church today, nor as a whole, was made necessary by god through christ.

my second point: my most fervent belief is that god is love. pretty much all of my friends are atheists, and they are kind and caring and loving people. it is, therefore, impossible for me to believe that they are not saved.

my second-and-a-half point: i take a little bit of issue with your phrasing of “send” to hell.

personally, i believe that hell is not necessarily Dante’s inferno, but a place of complete and total separation from god. i also believe that hell is not a place you are sent to, but rather a place you send yourself.

i mentioned purgatory in my earlier answer to a different anon; this is where that comes in. i generally concur with pope francis when he says that he likes to think of hell as empty (note: he was not issuing doctrine here). i believe that in purgatory, 99.999% (you get it) of people, if not 100%, are able to reconcile with god and see the consequences of their decisions, good and bad, throughout their life.

you know when you tell someone something that is true, but they keep on rejecting it, no matter what evidence you show them? that’s what i imagine is happening to the other .001%.

god is endlessly patient; he doesn’t mind spending eons trying to convince others to have empathy for their fellow man. however, humans are not as patient. they get fed up and walk away—and this is my (limited) understanding of the process of going to hell.

i’ll be honest, i don’t know if hell is permanent, temporary, etc. i’m not sure how helpful it is to debate it, either. but what i do know is very helpfully summarized in this post by the lovely hymnsofheresy.

whenever i have doubts about some aspect of what i believe being incorrect, i remind myself that god is love. he loves us more than anything in the world, and nothing we can do will ever change that. he doesn’t look for reasons for you to go to hell; he wants to be with us all the time.

thank you for sending in this ask, and i hope it helped ❤️❤️❤️

[drpoisonoaky]

Sozin’s law

This happened at very early stages of their relationship. This came from Sozin’s law that ban gay relationships.

(I have to be honest I cried writing this so all of the typos not all came only from “English isn't my first language” as usual.)

Katara wasn’t angry, but they needed to talk. So as she intensely stared at Azula she asked her “Are you ashamed of me?”

Azula looked at her as if she was saying the most crazy statement in the world. “What? Of course not. I am crazy but not that crazy.” then with a softer voice asked “Why do you think that?”

For a while Katara thought that she was being paranoid, until last week.

They were walking around the Capital and she wanted to buy some gifts for Gran Gran and her father. She was holding Azula’s hand. Her hand was always warm, it was comforting. 

But as soon as some people came close to them Azula dropped her hand. She looked at the princess and she noticed how tense she was, so she decided to not ask her ‘Why?’ at that moment. But she knows something was wrong. 

Katara softer her gaze “Why did you drop my hand the other day?” 

She was prepared to confront Azula’s ‘I didn’t do that’ or ‘Did you hit your head?’ but instead she heard:

“Because I don’t want anybody to hurt you.” 

Azula was looking at the floor, so Katara dropped the inquisitive tone.

“Is it because I’m from the Water Tribes?”

“That sometimes crosses my mind but no”

 “Then why Azula?” 

Azula looked at her with glassy eyes. “It was forbidden, Katara. I was raised and taught that I was a monster in more than one way.”

That sentence made Katara’s stomach turn. “But Zuko abolished that law in his first year as Fire Lord.”

It was the truth. It was one of his first moves as Fire Lord: ‘The law should prohibit all forms of discrimination and not support them’.

Azula took a breath knowing an old wound is going to be open.

“The law isn’t there anymore, but you can’t change people’s minds that fast, Katara”

“Since when do you give a fuck about anybody else opinion?”

“Since one day I took Ty Lee’s hand in the gardens and father saw it. He forced me to know how that particular law works for people with that inclinations”

Katara’s blood ran cold so she stepped closer to Azula.

“Can you hold me?” asked Azula shyly.

Katara didn’t answer but she stepped even closer and held her girlfriend in her arms. 

Being embraced and feeling more protected she continued. 

“They send them to mental institutions but in that mental institutions they apply some methods to them” 

Katara wasn’t sure if she wanted to know but she had to ask. 

“They did that to you?” 

“I was there because I was having hallucinations, that thought never crossed their minds. Ty Lee and I were careful, before the boiling rock at least.”

“What did they do in that place?”

“I’m not entirely sure. When Ozai took me there I saw how they tortured some women and made her repeat ‘A romantic relationship between two women is a disease’. She was strong, she denied it multiple times until they broke her.”

Azula was crying, Katara didn’t think she even realized that she was crying, maybe because Katara was also crying.

“After seeing how that woman lost the will to live in her eyes, Ozai faced me and said 'We shouldn't see the princess of the Fire Nation in that position, don’t we?’.”

“I face that man and his training methods every day. How he reacted to imperfection, but I never was more afraid of him than at that moment.”

Katara had her throat all in knots. She held Azula as if her life depended on her.

“How old were you?”

“Not sure. Maybe eleven or twelve. I don’t even know the meaning of my feelings for Ty Lee and he already knew it.”

Katara was speechless. 

“I tried to be how I was supposed to be. I even kissed a boy. But after I did that I know for sure I can’t live like that.”

“But it was forbidden…”

As if she read her mind, Azula said “I meant to be the Fire Lord. I could change that, I wouldn’t have to pretend.”

And with a weak voice murmured “I don’t know how Zuko knew, we never talk about it. Maybe he saw something or talked with Mai or Ty Lee. But when she banished the law, she came to visit me and said ‘You have done awful things in your life but one of those never was loving someone’”.

Katara has her eyes full of tears. Her held in Azula I wasn’t just to help the princess. Azula faced her and hugged her just as hard. And in the crook of the neck mutter. “I’m not ashamed of you. If I was proud of something it is to be able to be yours. I am afraid of something happening to you and I. I’m working on it, please give me time.”

They spend the rest of the day holding and supporting each other. And Katara promised herself she would do everything she could to let the woman in her arms to feel safe around her no matter what.

[romanticvampiric]

ㅤ( English and Spanish ver. )

Diabolik Lovers: Haunted Dark Husband — Dark 07

ㅤCW: Bodyshaming, scorpions and mention of vomit / Bodyshaming, escorpiones y mención de vomito.

English ver.

Romantic: ( Aah, but what a boring day. )

( I‘m a little hungry, but I don’t understand. I supposedly had lunch a while ago. )

( Maybe I’ll buy something after the next class, or before? ...I’ll try not to spend my money impulsively. )

For now... there must be something I can do. I’m tired of sitting here doing absolutely nothing.

( Now that I think about it, I should continue my research regarding the Sakamaki. I can’t deny that those guys are terrifying, after all, they are not human. )

( But who else would do the dirty work? I highly doubt anyone else would suspect them of being vampires within the Institution. )

( Could they be accomplices? ...This whole situation makes me feel so insecure, so uncomfortable. )

Ayato: Haa? Are you still sitting here, Chibimushi?

Romantic: ( It’s Ayato-kun... Again. )

Oh, well... Yes, something like that.

If I’m being honest with you, I’m surprised you actually noticed.

Ayato: How can you not? You’ve been sitting there for hours.

What? Are you afraid that others will start to notice how tiny you are?

Romantic: ——!

( He didn’t say that...! )

Ayato: Heh. What’s happening? Don’t worry, Chibimushi. Everyone here already notices it perfectly.

Is your height affecting you? Haha!

Romantic: ...It’s not funny. Also, I already told you to stop calling me that.

Ayato: But I don’t even remember your real name. This one suits you perfectly, doesn’t it?

I would say it even goes with your personality. Chi-bi-mu-shi.

Romantic: ...!

( Ugh... He’s just trying to provoke me. I’m not going to give him the luxury of responding now. )

( I’m not even that small! )

...Whatever.

Ayato-kun, do you know if the cafeteria is still open? I... I want to eat something before the next class.

Ayato: Bah. The cafeteria has been closed for a few hours, Chibimushi. You should have gone there sooner if you were that hungry, you know?

Romantic: ( Haa, I thought so... )

Ayato: But when it opens, I can bring you something delicious if you want, what were you planning to eat?

Romantic: No need, Ayato-kun, thank you. I wasn’t that hungry either, so I’ll stay here.

Ayato: Come on. I’ll spoil you a little, how about I bring you something sweet? Ore-sama is quite a gentleman after all!

Romantic: ( Huh? )

Ayato: They opened a sweets store very close to the school recently, Kanato showed it to me one day.

Romantic: ( Kanato-kun? )

( Well... I’m aware of how much Kanato-kun loves sweets. But surprises me that he would want to share the store with Ayato-kun. )

( Most likely he didn’t actually do it... It’s even allowed to leave the school during class time—?)

Ayato: Now, is there something you want exactly? Although, I guess anything would be good for a Chibimushi like you.

Tell me, what you think?

Romantic: ...Okay, I’ll accept your invitation, but... I'm not sure what to choose.

Ayato: Oh, that’s simple. You just have to think of something that you like too much. Come on, choose now!

Romantic: ( All this situation is so strange. Ayato-kun acted too kind... The sweets, the store... )

( Is this «kind act» to ask me for something in return? Blood, perhaps? )

❁ㅤAyato stands up from his seat and stares at Romantic as he stands in the classroom with his arms crossed.

Romantic: Well...

Ayato: So! What do you want, Chibimushi? Sweets? Ice cream? Cake? Chocolates? Name it and it will be yours.

You better not reject me this time!

Romantic: ...Maybe I would like some cake, I really like tres leches, I haven't had it in a while.

❁ㅤHe laughed without hesitation and leaned towards the boy again, smiling at him while shaking his black hair until it looked like a bird’s nest.

Ayato: You really are unique, aren’t you?

Romantic: S-stop already!

Ayato: Hahaha! I’ll go get the cake you want, so don’t go anywhere else without my permission, okay? I’ll be right back.

Romantic: Please, don’t let other people see you!

Haa... this boy is going to get me expelled one day...

❁ㅤWith that, the vampire looked up, turned around and walked towards the classroom hallway in search of the small gift, his salmon eyes completely stunned by his strange behavior.

Romantic: ( I’m not going to distrust Ayato-kun, I don’t like him, but... I do know him. )

( Maybe... he just wanted to do it. But nobody gets that kind of thing out of nowhere, right? )

I wonder what he has in mind.

—25 minutes later.—

❁ㅤAfter a while, the door opened and Ayato re-entered the room; he is now standing in front of Romantic while he is holding behind his back what appears to be a white box labeled: «The Sweet Aroma».

Ayato: Well, well! Here it is.

Romantic: Wow! I can see?

Ayato: Of course, watch carefully.

❁ㅤA small smile from ear to ear appeared on his face as soon as he spoke, offering his companion the large box of cake that he had agreed to buy, while he showed his fangs on the outside.

Romantic: Wow!

Hee-hee! ♪ The box is quite big for a cake…

Ayato: Oh, you’d be surprised how big this cake is, Chibimushi.

Come on, take a look.

Romantic: Really? Well, I wouldn’t want to eat it alone, wouldn’t you like a slice, Ayato-kun?

Really, I don’t mind sharing it with you.

Ayato: Che, why would I do it? I gave it to you. Therefore, it’s natural that you, as the receiver, eat it up.

I was kind enough to bring it to you, so hurry up and open it!

Romantic: ( Ayato-kun... He doesn’t want some cake? But he loves food, and making me angry... )

( What should I do? I’m starting to think this is suspicious, and if possible, I would like to avoid having to eat something weird... )

( This was already planned... Wasn’t it? )

I...

Ayato: Ah, come on! I’m telling you to open it now!

Romantic: I’m on it, be patient, please.

( I have to act now. Do whatever, but do it now.... Otherwise Ayato-kun is going to get tired of waiting... )

Ayato: Shut up. It’s your fault for taking forever.

Romantic: Let me open it, okay? Let’s see how it is...

Ayato:...

Romantic: ...

...

( ...Oh my God, it can’t be true... )

Aah...! No—!

( T-they are... they are scorpions! There are scorpions in the cake! )

Ayato: Hehe, it seems like you liked it a lot. You jumped with excitement.

Romantic: ...

Ayato: What’s wrong, Chibimushi? You’re shaking...

Romantic: Ayato-kun! Did you—?!

Ayato: Yes, it was me.

For a moment I thought about just bringing you the cake, but there’s nothing better than a complement, right? Enjoy it.

Romantic: ...!

( I knew it. Ayato-kun couldn’t be that kind. I really was a real fool... )

Ayato: Hehe! You have no choice when you are like this.

Come on, eat one of those. They’ll probably be delicious too, right?

Romantic: W-what?

Ayato: What you heard.

Don’t be shy, Chibimushi. Go on, take advantage of the fact that you are the only one who will have it, take a huge bite.

Or... are you too afraid to eat one of these? Don’t tell me they scare you.

Romantic: ( That smile... How did he know? )

❁ㅤThe young man struggled, trying to remove the various scorpions from his sight. He knew that he didn’t have many options available to him, but still...

Romantic: Ayato-kun...

N-no, Ayato-kun! I can’t do it!

Ayato: Oh, of course you can. Just trust me...

Romantic: No, no, no!

Ayato: Shh... you’ll like it, believe me.

Come on, close your eyes and open wide.

Romantic: ( I don’t want to look...! I feel like I could die right now from the disgust... No! )

Ayato: Here it comes... yum! ...Delicious, hehe.

Romantic: Nh—!

Ayato: Wow, Chibimushi, you’re really making a mess, huh?!

H-hey! Don’t you dare throwing up. Open your eyes, pay attention to what you’re doing.

Romantic: ( ... )

( Huh? )

( ...Wait, these aren’t scorpions. )

( These are... )

Candy...?

Ayato: That’s right. Why so upset? You haven’t even swallowed it yet. I can give you worse to eat, so consider yourself lucky.

That face of yours... you’re totally hopeless, I almost feel sorry for you. Haha!

Romantic: Ugh...! Ayato-kun...! I can’t believe it!

I thought they were real...! I—!

Ayato: Hahaha! How could you believe something like that? You really are an idiot, Chibimushi! Haha!

Romantic: ( In the end... he was just making fun of me, again. But this time... Ayato-kun crossed the line. )

( I can't believe I let myself be fooled, I never learn! )

Ayato: Ah, hehe... my stomach hurts. I shouldn’t have laughed so much...

Here, take this, nerd.

❁ㅤThe redhead extended a small white handkerchief from one of his pants pockets and handed it to the minor with a certain mocking tone.

Romantic: ...Thank you.

❁ㅤHe sighed, taking the piece of paper to wipe his mouth. He had made a total mess on his face.

Ayato: That’s the Chibimushi I know.

Alright! This is making me hungry, so let’s change plans, okay? Let’s finish that cake you and I together.

Make sure you enjoy every bite, so put that face away. Whether you like it or not, it’s a gift for you.

Romantic: ...Okay, I promise to be grateful.

( I don’t know what to think... )

—Monologue.—

Ayato-kun and I didn’t have cutlery during free class, so we ate the entire cake using our hands. Making sure not to throw anything on the floor.

To be honest, I had a lot of leftovers on my «plate». I didn’t have much of an appetite back then, so I just gave it all to him.

Not because he wasn’t delicious or because I wanted to ignore the detail. However, the presence of a scorpion, even if it is made of candy or even as an ornament, seems very unpleasant to me.

I had to eat at least five of them, and I imagined their legs moving when I bit into them, or worse, their stingers stuck in my tongue as I chewed.

In the end, it seems that Ayato-kun liked the cake he bought more than I did.

ーー END OF DARK 07ーー

Admin's comment 🧚🏻‍♀️

You may be wondering why this is on my main blog and not on @lovebatty... Well, I was editing this post and then realized that this was the wrong blog 😭 funny story.

But it doesn't matter, hopefully it won't happen to me again. As you can see, we saw more of Ayato's cruel behavior on this point of the story❕ This chapter gives me chills, because I really DON'T like scorpions❕❕ So I feel bad for Romi, he doesn't deserve this.ㅤ(⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

If you like it, please consider giving this post a fav, reblog and why not, even follow me❕ As always, thank you so much for reading. Have an amazing day.

Versión en Español.

Romantic: ( Aah, pero que día tan aburrido. )

( Tengo un poco de hambre, pero no lo entiendo. Se supone que ya había almorzado desde hace rato. )

( Quizá vaya a comprar algo después de la siguiente clase, ¿o antes? ...Intentaré no gastar mi dinero impulsivamente. )

Por ahora... debe haber algo que pueda hacer. Ya me cansé de estar aquí sentado sin hacer absolutamente nada.

( Ahora que lo pienso, debería continuar con mi investigación respecto a los Sakamaki. No puedo negar que esos tipos son aterradores, después de todo, no son humanos. )

( Pero quién más haría el trabajo sucio. Dudo mucho que alguien más sospeche que ellos son vampiros dentro de la Institución. )

( ¿Podrían ser cómplices? ...Toda esta situación me hace sentir tan inseguro, tan incómodo. )

Ayato: ¿Haa? ¿Todavía sigues aquí sentado, Chibimushi?

Romantic: ( Es Ayato-kun... Otra vez. )

Oh, pues... Sí, algo así.

Sí te soy honesto, me sorprende que lo notarás.

Ayato: ¿Cómo no hacerlo? Has estado sentado allí durante horas.

¿Qué? ¿Tienes miedo de que los demás comiencen a notar lo diminuto que eres?

Romantic: ¡——!

( ¡Él no dijo eso...! )

Ayato: Je. ¿Qué pasa? No te angusties, Chibimushi. Todos aquí ya lo notamos perfectamente.

¿Tu altura te está afectando? ¡Jaja!

Romantic: ...No es gracioso. Además, ya te he dicho que dejes de llamarme de esa forma.

Ayato: Pero si ni siquiera me acuerdo de tu verdadero nombre.

Ese te queda bastante bien, ¿no? Diría que hasta va con tu personalidad. Chi-bi-mu-shi.

Romantic: ¡...!

( Ugh... Él tan sólo busca provocarme. No pienso darle el lujo de responder ahora. )

( ¡Ni siquiera soy tan pequeño! )

...Como sea.

...Ayato-kun, ¿sabes si la cafetería todavía está abierta? Yo... quiero comer algo antes de la próxima clase.

Ayato: Bah. La cafetería lleva cerrada unas horas, Chibimushi. Deberías haber ido allí antes si tanta hambre tenías, ¿sabes?

Romantic: ( Haa, lo suponía... )

Ayato: Pero cuando abra, puedo traerte algo delicioso si quieres, ¿qué pensabas comer?

Romantic: No es necesario, Ayato-kun, gracias. Yo tampoco tenía tanta hambre, así que me quedaré aquí.

Ayato: Vamos. Te consentiré un poco, te traeré algo dulce, ¿de acuerdo? ¡Ore-sama es todo un caballero después de todo!

Romantic: ( ¿Eh? )

Ayato: Recientemente abrieron una tienda de dulces muy cerca de la escuela, Kanato me la mostró un día.

Romantic: ( Kanato-kun? )

( Bueno... soy consciente de lo mucho que a Kanato-kun le encantan los dulces. Pero me sorprendería que quisiera compartir la tienda con Ayato-kun. )

( Lo más probable es que en realidad no lo haya hecho... ¿Está siquiera permitido salir de la escuela durante el horario de clases—?)

Ayato: Ahora, ¿hay algo que deseas exactamente? Aunque, supongo que cualquier cosa le vendría bien a un Chibimushi como tú.

Dime, ¿te animas?

Romantic: ...Está bien, aceptaré tu invitación, pero... no estoy seguro de qué elegir.

Ayato: Oh, eso es sencillo. Sólo debes pensar en algo que te guste demasiado, ¡vamos, elige ya!

Romantic: ( Toda esta situación es tan extraña. Ayato-kun actuó muy amable... Los dulces, la tienda... )

( ¿Es este acto amable para pedirme algo a cambio? ¿Sangre, tal vez? )

❁ㅤAyato se levanta de su asiento y mira fijamente a Romantic mientras está de pie en el salón de clases con los brazos cruzados.

Romantic: Pues...

Ayato: ¡Entonces! ¿Qué quieres, Chibimushi? ¿Dulces? ¿Helado? ¿Pastel? ¿Chocolates? Nómbralo y será tuyo.

¡Será mejor que no me rechaces esta vez!

Romantic: ...Quizás me gustaría un poco de pastel, me gusta mucho el de tres leches, hace tiempo que no lo he tenido.

❁ㅤSe rió sin dudarlo y se inclinó nuevamente hacia el chico, sonriéndole al mismo tiempo que le sacudía su cabello negro hasta dejarlo como un nido de pájaros.

Ayato: Realmente eres único, ¿no?

Romantic: ¡P-para ya!

Ayato: ¡Jajaja! Iré a buscar el pastel que quieres, así que no vayas a ningún otro lado sin mi permiso, ¿vale? Ya vuelvo.

Romantic: ¡Por favor, no dejes que otras personas te vean! ¡Ve con mucho cuidado!

Haa... este chico va a hacer que me expulsen algún día...

❁ㅤDicho esto, el vampiro miró hacia arriba, se dio la vuelta y caminó hacia el pasillo del salón de clases en busca del pequeño regalo, el ojos asalmonados totalmente atónito ante su extraño comportamiento.

Romantic: ( No voy a desconfiar de Ayato-kun, no me agrada, pero… sí lo conozco. )

( Tal vez... sólo se sentía cómo tal. Pero nadie saca ese tipo de cosas de la nada, ¿verdad? )

Me pregunto qué tiene en mente.

—25 minutos después.—

❁ㅤDespués de un rato, la puerta se abrió y Ayato volvió a entrar a la habitación; está vez parado frente a Romantic mientras que iba sosteniendo detrás de su espalda lo que parecía ser una caja blanca con la etiqueta: «El Dulce Aroma».

Ayato: ¡Bien, bien! Aquí lo tienes.

Romantic: ¡Vaya! ¿Puedo verlo?

Ayato: Por supuesto, observa con atención.

❁ㅤUna pequeña sonrisa de oreja a oreja se le formuló en el rostro apenas le habló, ofreciéndole a su acompañante la gran caja de pastel que se había comprometido a comprar, mientras que mostraba los colmillos de fuera.

Romantic: ¡Guau!

¡Je-je! ♪ La caja es bastante grande para un pastel…

Ayato: Oh, te sorprendería lo grande que es este pastel, Chibimushi.

Vamos, echa un vistazo.

Romantic: ¿En serio? Bueno, no me gustaría comerlo solo, ¿no te gustaría una rebanada, Ayato-kun?

De verdad, no me molesta el compartirlo.

Ayato: Che, ¿por qué iba a hacerlo? Te lo dí a ti. Por lo tanto, es natural que tú, como receptor, te lo comas.

¡Vamos, tuve la amabilidad de traértelo, así que date prisa y ábrelo!

Romantic: ( ¿Ayato-kun... no quiere pastel? Pero él ama la comida, y molestarme. )

( ¿Qué debería hacer? Empiezo a creer que esto es sospechoso, y si es posible, me gustaría evitar tener que comer algo perjudicial para mí. )

( Esto ya estaba planeado...¿no es así? )

Romantic: Yo...

Ayato: ¡Ah, vamos! ¡Te estoy diciendo que lo abras ya!

Romantic: Ya voy, se paciente, por favor.

( Tengo que actuar ahora. Haz lo que sea, pero hazlo ahora... De lo contrario, Ayato-kun se cansará de esperar... )

Ayato: Cállate. Es tu culpa por tardar una eternidad.

Romantic: Déjame abrirlo, ¿de acuerdo? Veamos qué tal está...

Ayato: ...

Romantic: ...

...

( ...Oh Dios mío, no puede ser verdad... )

¡Aah! ¡No—!

( ¡S-son... son escorpiones! ¡Hay escorpiones en el pastel! )

Ayato: Jeje, parece que te gustó mucho. Saltaste de la emoción.

Romantic: ...

Ayato: ¿Qué ocurre, Chibimushi? Estás temblando...

Romantic: ¡Ayato-kun! ¡¿Acaso tú—?!

Ayato: Sí, fui yo.

Por un momento pensé en traerte sólo el pastel, pero no hay nada mejor que un complemento, ¿no es así? Disfrútalo.

Romantic: ¡...!

( Lo sabía. Ayato-kun no podría ser tan amable. Realmente fui un verdadero estúpido... )

Ayato: ¡Jeje! No tienes remedio cuando estás así.

Vamos, cómete uno de esos escorpiones. Seguramente estarán deliciosos también, ¿verdad?

Romantic: ¿Q-qué?

Ayato: Lo que oíste.

No seas tímido, Chibimushi. Anda, aprovecha que eres el único que lo tendrá, dale un mordisco enorme.

¿O tienes demasiado miedo para comer uno de éstos? No me digas que te asustan.

Romantic: ( Esa sonrisa... ¿Cómo lo supo? )

❁ㅤEl joven luchó, tratando de quitar a los distintos escorpiones de su vista. Sabía que no tenía muchas opciones a su disposición, pero aún así...

Romantic: Ayato-kun...

¡N-no, Ayato-kun! ¡No puedo hacerlo!

Ayato: Oh, claro que puedes. Sólo confía en mí...

Romantic: ¡No, no, no!

Ayato: Shh... te va a gustar, créeme.

Anda, cierra los ojos y abre grande.

Romantic: ( ¡No quiero mirar...! ¡Siento que podría morirme en este preciso instante del asco que siento...! )

Ayato: Ahí viene... ¡ñam! ...Delicioso, jeje.

Romantic: ¡Nh—!

Ayato: Vaya, Chibimushi, realmente estás haciendo un desastre, ¡¿eh?!

¡O-oye! No te atrevas a vomitar. Abre los ojos, fíjate muy bien en lo que haces.

Romantic: ( ... )

( ¿Eh? )

¿Caramelos...?

( ...Espera, estos no son escorpiones. )

( Estos son... )

Ayato: Así es. ¿Por qué tan disgustado? Ni siquiera te lo has tragado todavía. Puedo darte algo peor de comer, así que considérate afortunado.

Esa cara tuya... estás totalmente desesperado, casi siento pena por ti. ¡Jaja!

Romantic: ¡Ugh...! ¡Ayato-kun...!

¡No puedo creerlo! ¡Creí que eran de verdad! ¡Yo—!

Ayato: ¡Jajaja! ¿Cómo pudiste creer algo así? ¡Realmente eres idiota, Chibimushi! ¡Jaja!

Romantic: ( Al final... sólo estaba burlándose de mí, otra vez. Pero está vez... Ayato-kun cruzó la línea. Me siento... )

( No puedo creer que me deje engañar, ¡yo nunca aprendo! )

Ayato: Ah, jeje... me duele el estómago. No debí haberme reído tanto...

Toma, nerd.

❁ㅤEl bermejo extendió un pequeño pañuelo blanco de uno de los bolsillos de su pantalón y se lo entregó al menor con cierto tono burlón.

Romantic: ...Gracias.

❁ㅤSuspiró, tomando el pedazo de papel para limpiarse la boca. Había hecho un total desorden.

Ayato: Ese es el Chibimushi que conozco.

¡Bien! Esto me está dando hambre, así que cambiemos de planes, ¿vale? Terminemos ese pastel tú y yo juntos.

Asegúrate de disfrutar cada bocado, así que quita esa cara. Te guste o no, es un regalo para ti.

Romantic: ...De acuerdo, lo prometo.

( No sé qué pensar... )

—Monólogo.—

Ayato-kun y yo no teníamos cubiertos durante la clase libre, así que nos comimos todo el pastel usando nuestras manos. Asegurándonos de no tirar nada al piso.

Para ser honesto, yo tenía muchas sobras en mi «plato». No tenía bastante apetito en ese entonces, así que simplemente se lo di todo a él.

No porque no estuviera delicioso o porque quisiera despreciar el detalle. Sin embargo, la presencia de un escorpión, aunque sea de caramelo o incluso como adorno, me parece muy desagradable.

Tuve que comerme al menos cinco de ellos, y me imaginé sus piernas moviéndose cuando los mordí, o peor aún, sus aguijones clavados en mi lengua mientras masticaba.

Al final, parece que a Ayato-kun le gustó más el pastel que compró que a mí.

ーー FIN DEL DARK 07 ーー

Comentario del admin 🧚🏻‍♀️

Quizás se esten preguntando por qué esto está en mi blog principal y no en @lovebatty... Bueno, es que estaba editando esta publicación y luego me di cuenta de que este era el blog equivocado 😭 qué gracioso.

Pero no importa, ojalá no me vuelva a pasar. Como puedes ver, vimos más comportamiento cruel de Ayato en este punto de la historia❕ Este capítulo me da escalofríos, porque realmente NO me gustan los alacranes / escorpiones❕❕ Pobre Romi, él no merecía.ㅤ(⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

Si les gusto, consideren darle a esta publicación un fav, rebloguear y, por qué no, incluso seguirme❕ Como siempre, muchas gracias por leer. Qué tengan un maravilloso día.

[rgr-pop]

soliciting advice from the mentally ill queer community, possibly especially @bananapeppers needed

without rehashing the context too much, as you know i got written up at work for saying the words homophobia and transphobia (yes that’s what the record says lol). my punishment is i have to go to see a therapist (counseling from a therapist or therapy from a counselor not clear) that they have chosen, and i have to consent to release some information about these sessions to my employer

going to set aside that i would not choose this therapist in the first place given any ability to consent at all in this scenario because she has what i consider to be a fake certifying degree from an online for profit institution and she does not work for a mental healthcare provider (she works for a company that sells telecounseling packages to human resources departments) lol, i have additional concerns about the appropriateness of the assignment because on her linkedin she identifies herself as catholic (specifically catholic educated)

fully no anti catholic bias intended (i love the catholic homosexual reading this) and to be fully honest, i have no other evidence on hand that she may be homophobic—no questionable social media or organizational affiliations. she frankly may very well not be. but i would never choose a healthcare provider who identifies their catholicism on their professional website to handle issues that i know to be controversial among catholics (like at all as a first choice but especially) without explicit reassurance that they are pro-queer and have experience in queer informed counseling (or are abortion loving if that were the situation, or believe that divorce should be legal and celebrated, whatever it may be) (once more full apologies for the stereotyping lol)

so the advice i’m looking for is how to have a conversation with her to establish whether she’s a queer friendly therapist (and there are some finer details i’d especially like to clarify). i know many of you have had to have these conversations and i’m wondering if you’d all give me pointers or some concrete questions to ask.

additionally, in a worse case scenario, can anyone who feels up to it share experiences or advice about surviving homophobic therapy experiences lol :/

a few notes:

i obviously considered not complying and lawyering up. it’s not off the table lol but there are various reasons i opted not to. the most pragmatic one is that i know many members of my union have to go through similar processes as the result of discipline and i want to see what that’s like for them. i could also gather evidence to build the case for making demands against this practice (which so far many unions consent to for various reasons even as they are legally questionable, if you’re in this situation in your union OR are mad about your union caving to this practice feel free to dm me to chat strategy.)

additionally, i probably cannot ask for a different therapist regardless of the outcome here, but having an explicit conversation is good for my case regardless. the best case scenario from here on would actually probably be for her to say i’m not comfortable with my ability to handle this topic but i can refer you to an explicitly queer informed counselor who for some reason also has a webtv therapy degree and works for the HR app.

why do i want to explicitly know that she’s okay on queer issues (or not) (im asking myself)? for one i am not sure i can literally survive yet more homophobic harassment at work (yes i know i’m baby but i make $20k working for a library this is the one thing i’m owed ok). but for another thing i do think it would be better to have some kind of record that they forced me to go to a homophobic counselor as punishment for making a complaint about homophobic harassment, if that’s the case.

the most generous read of the objective of this forced therapy would be to discuss more constructive behaviors lol for communicating about anti-queer behavior at work etc. perhaps even some emotional counseling regarding the honestly extreme toll this experience has had on my life. but i can’t proceed in good faith without a counselor who acknowledges that what i experienced was queer/phobic and that i have a right to not experience those things at work. that’s all. i do not want to sit in any additional meetings where i’m told that i have to listen to the perspective of the coworker who doesn’t believe she should have to respect queer people at work. however, if i do not proceed in good faith, i will be reported to my employer as not compliant and could face actual consequences.

please @ me thank you

[lestappenforever]

Am I gaining popularity ahsbDJKSANJSL (Body language anon here, btw)

I will definitely have to create a sideblog to store my F1 ramblings because my head’s so full of them… And for the record, I’m NOT lurking (I am), I’m just on sick leave and don’t know what do to with this much time on my hands (well, no, I do, I’m just actively letting the colours red and blue rot my brain). It’s a triple header with LOADS of content, what was I even expecting, honestly.

Okay, so, for the record, as an ace person, the reason I got soooo hung-up on Lestappen was because of the shared enthusiasm and love for the sport. Sure, the drivers discuss the races all the time, but Lestappen DISCUSSes it, y’know? Shoving rivalries and crafted narrative and paddock politics aside, even. Because if you think about it, F1 is a big institution, an establishment. Racing is only a part of something way bigger. The drivers are no longer just drivers – they are public figures, brand ambassadors, influencers, the price of entering the big leagues. It comes with several layers and masks you’re forced to wear in order to get by because this institution mandates it. In my eyes it’s similar to workplace etiquette and rules and dress codes. But these guys, they grew up through the racing ranks, they live and breathe racing. Even if they are to put on layers upon layers upon layers to complete their role to stay afloat in the pinnacle of the racing world, that won’t erase one of the deepest layers that has the most connection to their “true” persona: the racing driver.

Drivers do tend to find this connection, but Max and Charles ESPECIALLY. Like, I’m presenting this with a clear dramatic flair, but at the end of the day we are all (fanfiction) writers, it’s part of our charm. So, I think Max and Charles can strip each other naked figuratively, they’ve found each other’s racing persona under all these layers. No, rather they’ve never lost contact with it, given their shared racing history.

As long as drivers have cameras trained on them, they’ll act – staying true to a role the sport has given them, shoes to fill, if you may. But every once in a while se can witness moments of them shedding these layers and be the racing drivers they grew up as – and these moments are always there with Lestappen. They are not teammates, they are not forced to act silly in front of the camera, and even when they were painted as big rivals they still refused to play part. Although I think they kinda did (and still do), it’s just that the term “rival” has such negatíve connotations our minds immediately associates it with big angry emotions and otbrusts and hate speech, when in fact, rivalry is a sort of partnership. But I digress.

Lestappen moments are few and far in between (not lately though), but they are so gold and their interactions tend to jump out to me because of what I’ve discussed above. They manage to strip down these layers and be honest and authentic when talking with each other. When they are talking, they aren’t Charles Leclerc il predestinato and Max Verstappen three time world champion, they are two racing nerds who share their passion. It’s fascinating to see how much connection they are able to make with the other’s inner child as well. Two kids, always racing, always thinking about getting into Formula 1. Re body language, I think this cumulates in their body language because as others have pointed out, they are very animated around each other – excited hand gestures, fidgeting, lots of moving around in general. This is them, without all the layers this institution handed them to wear. They are laser-focused when talking, following each other’s eyelines, only breaking eye-contact when there’s an outside force making them, wild hand gestures that compliment whatever they say, nodding (oh my god, there’s so much nodding!! – it isn’t just a sign of approval, it is also a sign that you’re listening, even if you don’t necessarily agree with what the other has to say), lots of syncronised movements, walking in tandem, etc. They are clearly engrossed and enamoured, whipping their heads to the side when someone chimes in (also a sign that you’re so deep in a convo that it catches you off guard when someone else speaks up, and it disrupts the flow of your conversation).

Of course, this might just be PR, the “friendly rivalry” narrative to take a jab at Lewis because it surfaced after the 2021 season, so the timing definitely adds up, but it’s still ongoing - in fact, getting stronger and stronger –, and why exactly? Max and Lewis seems to have made peace, this narrative is no longer relevant, AND Charles and Max aren’t championship rivals either. Another argument to back this up: many times they seem to act like this when the cameras aren’t directed at them – when someone else gives an interview, or before the drivers parade when they are just mingling and there isn’t clean focus on anyone.

BUT BUT BUT. This isn’t all. These are big, exaggerated, fast, “LOUD” movements that are the testament of their engrossment in their shared passion. What I find equally as fascinating (if not more) is the tiny movements – movements you only pick up if you pay close attention. I’m classifying these tiny moments as something separate from the big and “loud” ones because I think they aren’t the same, they stem from something else, not their passionate and insightful conversations they usually have (probably about racing or something they have in common):

These tiny movements (like the foot tremble I pointed out in an earlier ask) surface during their intense talks as well, but get overshadowed by the big “loud” movements. However, when racing talk isn’t on the plate they seeem to be the dominant movements. So, and now the assumptions and guessing game can truly begin because I cannot yet tell exactly what these tiny, almost nervous movements are exactly. These guys are there, laid bare in front of each other in the middle of a loud and spectacular circus, and these movements are so quiet and soft and fond and gentle and genuine in comparison to the institution of PR and politics around them. Am I exaggerating this narrative? Definitely so. But I firmly believe these analyses do come from more than just a delusional mind of a writer.

You absolutely are, body language anon, and deservedly so!

I was so excited when I started reading this ask and as expected, I was far from disappointed by the end of it. Your insight into their body language and behavior around each other is truly astounding, and you have no idea how much I enjoy reading it. Not to mention how much I appreciate you taking the time out of your day to share your thoughts with me.

Needless to say, your analysis makes so much sense and is giving such value to watching their interactions now.

I'm so sorry to hear you’re still not feeling well, my lovely body language anon. I hope you'll get better very soon. And please let me know if you do create a blog for your beautiful F1 thoughts because I would love to follow it and talk to you some more. ❤️

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

My Tweed Coat Ricochets (Agatha Harkness x Reader) Chapter 2

Summary: After a disastrous first encounter with your new colleague, you try to settle into your new job as an archaeologist at The Westview Institution.

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: Hi besties, here’s chapter two! We’re going for a sort of Indiana Jones and eventually Mamma Mia-ish romcom vibe. Disclaimer- I am not a historian or archaeologist. I’m a violinist. I’m just typing this up as I go along, haha. But I hope you enjoy this next chapter! I should hopefully be updating weekly, I have a pretty busy job so if there’s ever a delay that’s why :) Thank you for reading!

Chapter Two: The Last Great Archaeology Dig

There was nothing more peaceful than aimlessly wandering through a museum. With the abundance of exhibits and the stream of visitors flowing in and out, it felt as if the ancient worlds were coming to life before your very eyes. Growing up you had always looked forward to the occasional school trip to the museum, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d end up working for one of the best institutions in the world. You’d spent most of your morning getting settled in your office, making note of how you wanted to fill the space over the coming weeks.

There was an underlying sense of dread thinking about the staff meeting Stephen had scheduled. It wasn’t because you weren’t looking forward to meeting your new colleagues- you were. A crumpled white blazer you angrily tossed on the ground caught your eye, reminding you of the real reason you didn’t want to go. The mere thought of Agatha Harkness had you seeing red- and it wasn’t just the wine stain. You had encountered plenty of strong personalities over the course of your career, but none had infuriated you as much as this woman managed to within a day. You normally prided yourself on your calm disposition, but there was something about her that had you feeling emotions you never thought were possible.

You weren’t sure what it was about her, as your brain replayed your two brief, but memorable interactions. Perhaps it was her arrogance, with the way she wasted no time snobbishly judging you based on your appearance. Or maybe it had something to do with the conceited idea that you were following her, as if you would ever do something like that. The way her eyes had narrowed at you, the striking blue color seemingly darkened like an impending storm rolling into the wine dark sea. You could get lost in those eyes, and- wait a second. What were you even saying?

Pushing any and all thoughts of Agatha out of your brain, a quick glance at your watch left you alarmed to find the staff meeting was starting in a few minutes and you had no idea where it was. Stephen had sent a rather lengthy email you only half read, and you mentally slapped yourself for not paying more attention. The corridors all appeared to blend together in a rather confusing labyrinth, and you rounded yet another corner when you heard a light hearted chuckle from behind you.

Turning around, you found a woman staring at you, amusement twinkling in her blue eyes. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she looked at you with some sympathy. “You must be the new hire?” As you nodded she continued. “I thought so. Y/N, right? I remember Stephen mentioning you were joining us. I’m Maria Hill, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She held her hand out, and you quickly shook it, pleasantly surprised at how friendly she was. Although, you guessed most people here were nicer than Agatha. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Sorry, I don’t really know where I’m going.”

Maria gave you a sympathetic glance. “I remember my first few weeks here. It gets better, trust me.” She guided you down another hallway before adding, “How has your first day been?”

Shrugging, you thought of the whole amount of nothing you had accomplished so far. “I’m still getting settled in. To be honest, I can’t believe I’m here.”

Nodding along, Maria led you down another long hallway, and you wondered just how large this place was. “It can be a lot to take in at once, but most of the team is great. You’ll fit right in.”

You wanted to inquire what she meant by saying most of the team was great, but you’d reached the end of the long corridor which held an open doorway holding a spacious conference room. Maria entered first, leaving you to follow suit, trying to swallow the nerves building up in your throat. The room housed a large rectangular table in the center, and there were already a few people there. Each of the walls housed a variety of pictures; upon closer examination you realized they must be a collection of various excavations the team had done over the years.

Turning back to the table, your eyes scanned the room and you let out an internal sigh of relief upon seeing that Agatha had not arrived yet. Besides Maria and Stephen, with the latter setting up at the head of the table, there were three other chairs occupied. A brooding man with long black hair sat alone in the corner. He was scribbling in a brown leather journal, and gave you a brief, disinterested look when he caught you staring. The other two, a man and a woman, were sitting across from Maria and engaged in quiet conversation. The woman had long auburn hair that was braided, whilst the man wore a pair of silver glasses and had strawberry blonde hair.

Glancing around at the empty chairs, you were mentally choosing a seat when Maria waved you over to join her. Taking the seat to her right, you set your belongings down before saying, “Thanks, I wasn’t sure where to sit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Maria reassured you. “Have you met Wanda Maximoff and Victor Shade?”

The two people sitting across from you ended their conversation, giving you their full attention. The woman, Wanda, gave you a warm smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Y/N, right?”

You nodded, pleased at how they also appeared to be friendly. “Yes, it’s lovely to meet you both.”

“Well you certainly don’t look like a clumsy baboon,” Victor commented lightly, and your eyes narrowed in confusion, while Wanda whacked his arm. Clearing his throat, he held out his hand to shake yours. “Ah, right, my apologies. Haven’t had my afternoon coffee. It’s nice to meet you.”

Maria appeared to be just as confused as you, but before you could ask for clarification Wanda and Victor returned to their previous conversation. A few moments later, Agatha came trudging in, looking as unpleasant as ever, followed closely by another woman you didn’t recognize. The woman had straight jet black hair, and bright green eyes that shone like emeralds. They sat towards the end of the table, near the man with the long black hair, and you swore you could feel Agatha glaring daggers into your back. Stephen appeared pleased with the turnout as he stood up, clapping his hands together once.

“Thank you all for joining us this afternoon. I’ll try to keep things brief. First, I’d like to welcome the newest member of our team.” Stephen motioned at you, and you offered a strained smile, feeling the muscles in your lower back tighten from the anxiety. “Y/N will be an excellent addition, and I hope all of you make her feel welcome.” It appeared that his last words were directed towards one person in particular, as it appeared everyone in the room seemingly glanced at a bored looking Agatha.

Clearing his throat, Stephen continued. “Onto the last bit of business, everyone but Y/N should be familiar with our new project, being fielded by Dr. Shade and Dr. Stark, yes?” Mostly everyone, excluding Agatha, nodded. “Victor, would you like to give an update?”

“Of course,” Victor opened a large binder that was in front of him. “Tony has been overseas for the past few weeks getting the rest of our findings in order. As many of you know, my research over the past decade has been solely dedicated to locating the Tesseract.”

You were fairly familiar with Victor Shade, but had never read any of his journal articles over the years. You had, however, read more on Tony Stark. His research and findings on ancient civilizations along the Nile were groundbreaking. Victor had taken a brief moment to look over his notes before continuing. “The Tesseract was rumored to have been a sought after relic. The carvings we found appear to depict it having some sort of legendary power. Unfortunately, there is no last known location, and up until last month it was thought to be a myth.”

“In the past we always assumed the Tesseract was the only relic of its kind, but during our latest excavation we uncovered what appears to be a writing tablet with six engravings etched on it.”

Pulling an iPad out of his bag, he fidgeted with it for a moment before the flat screen tv on the far wall turned on, and pulled up a picture of the carving. Everyone peered at the screen with intrigue, even Agatha appeared to be paying attention. “Now, with all of the findings and research Tony and I have conducted since we uncovered this, we’ve stumbled across a few other clues to their locations.”

The screen changed to a 3D model of the Earth, with six glowing circles around it. “With everything we’ve put together, as well as notes from previous journals, we’ve concluded that the six relics are located within the red circles. I was made aware that Agatha is going to be leading a team in Delos next month, and since we are fairly certain that is the location of one of the relics, we thought it would be imperative to begin there.”

“You are not allowed to hijack my excavation, you high tech toaster,” Agatha snarled from her seat, and as you rolled your eyes, you swore you heard Wanda sigh from her seat. Of course.

“Agatha, no one is going to be hijacking your research,” Stephen interjected, clearly trying to diffuse whatever was going to happen next. “But bringing a few extra sets of hands to widen the search is a good idea.”

“This could very well change the way we view almost every ancient civilization throughout all of history,” Victor added, seeming unphased by Agatha.

“Thank you, Victor. Now, I know some of our team is already in Greece preparing for Agatha excavation, however with the new timeline I thought sending a few more people would be beneficial,” Stephen explained. “In addition to Agatha and Victor, I’d like to send Y/N.”

Your eyes met Agatha’s simultaneously, and you both glared at each other. Great. Agatha shook her head. “I’d rather be working with someone I know, like Hela or Loki.”

The man with the long black hair, Loki, shook his head. “I’m going to be in South America until October. Unless you’d like to trade places?”

Stephen sighed, rubbing his temple. “Agatha, you cannot pick and choose which colleagues will be accompanying you to Greece. As long as there’s nothing else, why don’t we wrap things up for today. I’ll have more information regarding the excavation later in the week. Thank you everyone.”

Everyone took their time filing out, and you noticed Stephen and Agatha quietly arguing, mostly likely about you. Returning to your office, you packed up your belongings for the day until your gaze once again fell onto the Merlot stained blazer and you suddenly had an idea. Packing the blazer in your bag, you left and passed a vexed Agatha, and you pretended not to notice how nice she smelled.

Later that afternoon you found yourself in one of your favorite coffee shops in the city. Nestled one block away from your apartment, it was the perfect stop you needed on your way home from a slightly stressful first day. Ordering your usual, you sat at a table in the corner and thought about the excavation in Greece. You still had to look over Victor’s notes, but the dig and research sounded exciting. The only downside is that Agatha was leading the excavation and sounded less than pleased at the prospect of you joining her. Your brain also went back to what Victor had said before the meeting started, something about you being a clumsy baboon? You had a sinking suspicion that Agatha had been behind that.

“Iced chai with oat milk for Y/N?” The barista called out, and you walked up the counter to grab your beverage when you saw familiar blue eyes glaring at you.

“You have got to be kidding me,” You mumbled to yourself as Agatha came up to you.

“It really feels like you’re following me,” Agatha said in a cold tone, eyeing you suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

“I left work before you did,” You pointed out, not in the mood to argue with her. “And if you must know this is my favorite coffee shop in the city. I come here all the time.”

Agatha gave you an unreadable look before turning around and walking away. Nice to see she was warming up to you. Taking your drink back to your table, you watched the archaeologist settle in at a table near yours. The two of you ignored each other for the entirety of your visit, but once you finished your drink, you opened your bag and looked at Agatha’s blazer while a new plan brewed in your mind. Eventually she got up to get more coffee, and you discreetly dropped the blazer off on her chair with a note before leaving.

I’ll have to save up my money to buy that plane ticket to Greece

[kohakhearts]

underneath the mistletoe

Goh isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas, so while joining Ash in Pallet Town for the holidays seemed like a good idea at the time, it quickly becomes clear he's in way over his head. It's just his luck that Gary happened to be coming home at the same time. And what in the world is with all this mistletoe, anyway?

fandom: pokemon (anime) rating: t relationship(s): ash/goh/gary word count: 21.1k read it here

When Ash suggested Goh come with him to Pallet Town while the Cerise Institute is shut down for the holidays, Goh said yes before he could even stop to consider what might be getting himself into.

This turns out to be a larger mistake than he anticipated. The idea of spending the holidays somewhere other than at home waiting for his parents to at least call was so alluring, it failed to occur to him that beyond the obligatory exchange of gifts he would be expected to participate in, most people engage rather…excessively in Christmastime festivities.

In spite of its size, Pallet Town boasts some considerable holiday spirit. There is not a single house lacking in decoration so far as Goh can see, and the Ketchum household is no exception (though to his immense relief, it is far from the gaudiest show of lights on the street). As they walk by them all, Ash enthusiastically informs him that you can see the New Year's fireworks from Viridian City even this far away, though they’re obviously much better up close.

It’s the first time Ash has been home for the holidays in years, by his own admission, so Goh does his best to smile and nod and ooh and aah as much as his excitement necessitates. He tries not to think too hard about the fact that he has willingly signed himself up for two weeks of this.

Ash’s mother ushers them inside upon their arrival and immediately steers them and their Pokémon toward the kitchen, where Ash is thankfully silent at least for the next ten minutes—as long as it takes him to clear his plate and then another—during which time Goh is able to breathe a little easier, at least until Mrs. Ketchum begins talking:

“I know you’ve both only just arrived, but I could really use a hand with decorating the diner once you’ve had a chance to settle in.” She turns her beaming smile on Goh. “My Ash used to help with the Christmas decorations every year, so once I learned he would be coming back home for the holidays, I made sure not to put a single thing up until he arrived!”

“‘Course we’ll he’p!” Ash says through a mouthful of stew. When he swallows, he leans over to nudge Goh in the arm. “It’ll be lots of fun, Goh! Mom’s restaurant always wins the decorating contest.”

“The…what?”

Mrs. Ketchum laughs. “Oh, it’s nothing big, dear. Just a silly local competition between a few business-owners. But, well…I don’t expect to lose, so I hope you brought your decorating shoes!”

From where he and Pikachu are eating, Grookey gives an affirmative, far-too-happy-for-Goh’s-liking chitter, and he knows there will be no hope of getting out of this one.

After dinner, Delia shoos them both out of the kitchen and tells them to let her know when they’re ready to go to Pallet House. Ash chatters the whole way up the stairs to his room, while Goh wracks his brain for every excuse he possibly can to get out of decorating. I’m just so tired is too dismissive and I’m not feeling well is too obviously a lie; I just don’t have much sense for these things is too defeatist—Ash would see through him in an instant—but I hate Christmas is a bit too honest.

Ash knows that his family doesn’t do much in the way of celebrations, but Goh just didn’t have the heart to dim that exuberant expression with the truth. Ash’s enthusiasm is usually fairly contagious; it’s just not going to happen where all things Christmas are concerned.

keep reading

[aerithisms]

If you feel like it, I’d love to hear about your dissertation on Studio Ghibli. I’m so curious how you approached it. What did you focus on? Was there a lot of academic writing to situate your work or were you pretty much on your own?

sure, thank you so much for asking! this got a bit long so putting it under a read more

my degree was in english literature but the course had a strong film element, so i was looking at it from a literary/film studies perspective. the topic was on the way miyazaki's oeuvre rejects gender essentialist associations between gender and the "nature/culture dualism", i.e. the perceived dichotomy between the natural and human worlds. i arrived at that topic because a lot of the existing scholarship on miyazaki's work looks at it through a feminist lens or an environmentalist lens, and i wanted to try to combine the two. i focused on nausicaä of the valley of the wind and princess mononoke because they're big lynchpins of his filmography and they're very similar - mononoke is arguably a retread of the same narrative and thematic building blocks as nausicaä with miyazaki having 14 added years of experience.

to address the topic i ended up looking into ecofeminist theory and literary criticism as the theoretical background and reading a lot of donna haraway, who's a hugely influential figure in the scholarship on cultural dualisms (and whose work is also notoriously difficult to parse lmao). i also looked a bit at what had been written on women in anime and manga, which involved some reading about shoujo, and generally looked into the english language scholarship on anime. i also wanted to learn more about miyazaki as a person and a filmmaker and my main references for that were the documentary 10 years with hayao miyazaki and the books starting point and turning point, which compile interviews he's given and things he's written about his own work from 1979 to 2008.

with regards to scholarship on miyazaki's work, i was limited to english language scholarship as i can't read japanese. there is certainly some english scholarship on him - he's by far the most written about japanese anime director in english scholarship - but there's not nearly as much as you might expect for such an accomplished and influential filmmaker, especially when you start narrowing it down to the scholarship on individual films. i'd say this is due to a historical lack of respect for anime in general from academics (even my supervisor was quite skeptical of it throughout the project lol). a lot of my most important references were quite recently published - the book princess mononoke: understanding studio ghibli's monster princess is the first collection of essays on princess mononoke to be published in english and it only came out in 2018 (i did the dissertation in 2021). a really prominent figure in my bibliography was susan napier, who was one of the first western scholars to give anime a legitimate place at the table back in the late 90s, and who published miyazakiworld: a life in art in 2018, which i think is a really accessible academic perspective on his work. (she also did this ted talk about being looked down upon for taking anime seriously which is an interesting watch if you have 15 minutes)

a lot of the journal articles i referenced can be found on this site, which is compiled by someone who's not a film or literary scholar but is just a genuine enthusiast for anime and manga studies (they also have a degree in library and information science - my current area of study! - so no wonder the site is well organised and well researched lol). their bibliography for articles about miyazaki's work can be found here - obvs you'd need institutional access to read most of that and i can't guarantee this list is exhaustive especially since it's been 3 years since i was researching this but i think it gives a good idea of how much is out there. again it's far from nothing but it's also not a huge amount, which to be honest i think made my project a lot easier and more manageable than a dissertation on someone who's received a lot of scholarly attention would've been. i could get a really good grasp of the entire scholarly field, which would've been impossible if i'd been writing on, say, jane austen.

it was a really fun topic to write about for my dissertation! i bought copies of the books i've linked because i loved the research process so much (another book i bought and recommend is the anime art of hayao miyazaki, which focuses on the more technical aspects of his filmmaking). i do think i was limited by my inability to read japanese and i'd love to find out what's going on in the japanese scholarship but i'm still pretty happy with what i was able to do. again thanks for asking about it and giving me an excuse to talk about it lol

[kivaember]

👀!! but also, 🎯?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

Interestingly, not many people have made in depth guesses about major major plot points for APV! I am curious to hear people's theories though, if only to see if the foreshadowing I lay down it getting picked up...

Otherwise, on my P5 fic To Know Your Target, quite a few people correctly guessed major plot points, which I found really cool! I like it when people can sorta guess where the story is heading, bc it means I'm building it in a coherent kind of way. There's no better feeling for when you guess something will happen and it does!

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Oh man I have so many!!! Okay, I have one wip that's like two thirds done... it's a oneshot (a big one rip) that's post LoR. It follows 621 hunting amongst the wreckage of the Xylem for Walter's AC, mostly because he's kinda lost on what to do with himself and also bc he wants to give it a funeral. Rusty, still horribly injured from his fall fromthe Xylem, hijacks an RLF MT and follows him there...

The fic's most about discussing 621 and Rusty's different approaches to grief and moving on and the like... and hilariously, as I was writing it, 621 ended up being a lot more emotionally intelligent than Rusty was...

Have a snippet :) as a treat!

He rounded a collapsed pile of masonry and shattered glass, some sort of towering roof structure that had caved in on the deck below. STALKER was standing in the near distance on the very edge of the deck, staring at the slowly approaching supercell. 

Carefully, Rusty piloted his MT to stand beside STALKER, and directed his visual sensors towards the incoming storm. His wipers were going a little crazy now, frantically whipping back and forth to try and outpace the heavy downpour. Beside him, STALKER moved fractionally, its half-rusted joints creaking loudly. 

“...hey,” Rusty murmured. “Aren’t you tired, Raven?”

STALKER’s head angled towards him. 

«Aren’t you tired, Rusty?»

Rusty felt his mouth quirk into a smile. A response, even if it was a mocking (he assumed). He’d take it. “Yeah. I’m pretty exhausted, to be honest.” 

«…then why are you here.»

“Like I said, I came to get you. You’ve been out here for two days. Uncle was getting worried.”

Raven took his time in replying and Rusty patiently waited, ignoring the various aches and pains lancing through his body like razor sharp glass. It was fine. So long as he didn’t bust the stitches from his spleen repair surgery, he should be okay. 

«I’m fine.»

“Sure,” Rusty said. “Just like I’m fine.”

«I wasn’t in a coma for two days after breaking half my bones.»

no, you were just tortured for weeks on end instead, Rusty did not say with some effort. “You still need to eat, right? You’re augmented, but you’re still human.”

Raven didn’t seem to have a ready response for that, so he just didn’t say anything.

“...what’re you even out here for anyways?” Rusty asked, genuinely curious. The Xylem was a marvel of Institute tech, yeah, but most of it was completely ruined from its violent re-entry. Aside from getting blown up and ransacked by invading corporate and Liberation Front forces alike, the seawater filling up half the ship would’ve eaten away at most of the technology by now. 

«…I’m looking for something.» 

“Well… if you’re looking so hard for it, I guess it must be important…” Rusty said slowly. “Maybe I can help?”

«You’re injured and should be resting.»

“You’re injured too.” Rusty’s tone grew solemn. “I know what they do in those re-education camps, Raven.” 

«…»

“You’ve been flat out since you escaped,” Rusty said softly. “Uncle said you only swung by for a day at our base before running off again. If you don’t stop to rest, your body’s just going to give out on you. It’s a pointless way to go.” 

«…»

“Unless that’s what you want?” Rusty asked, and made sure his voice was dispassionately blunt when he added: “Are you just waiting to die?”

The question lingered between them like an ominous shroud. The supercell moved close enough that its thick cloud wall blocked out the sun, dousing them in deep, dark shadow. 

«…no.»

Raven paused, and STALKER kept shifting its weight back and forth, rusted joints screeching and groaning, the AC not built to spend so much time along the seashore, getting sprayed with saltwater and blasted with coastal gusts. It looked like a corpse just barely moving, skeletal, where chunks of its ablative armour had been stripped off from its own re-entry, and the inner hull torn from the tremendous forces it had been under (had never been designed to endure, but had endured anyways). 

There was even a gaping crack in the Core, a sliver where Rusty could peer past the protective armour and see a bit of the Core block that contained the pilot’s cockpit. Red-tinged rainwater was collecting in that crack, pouring out of it like a miniature stream.

«I don’t know what to do.»

It was unexpectedly honest. Vulnerable. Completely out of nowhere. 

“What do you mean?”  

«Before everything went wrong in Institute City, Handler Walter told me what to do. I knew what to expect with each day. I knew what my objectives were. Now, I know nothing. I’m a mercenary with no money or clients, and I have no idea how to get those things myself. I got my life back, like Walter wanted, but there’s nothing in it.»

STALKER’s head bowed. 

«…I have nothing.»

“That’s not true, Raven,” Rusty said gently, taken aback by Raven’s raw honesty, and cursing the awkwardness of having this talk while they were in two separate mechs. Raven was as expressionless as they came, but he could still gauge his human face better than just staring at the side of STALKER’s cracked Core. 

“After saving Rubicon, you’ve definitely got the Liberation Front on your side,” he continued. “And, for what it’s worth, I’ve got your back too. I know you won’t trust that, considering what happened before Institute City but, I mean it. I was-”

He drew in a slow breath, before admitting quietly: “I was wrong about you. You weren’t a threat to be eliminated, and I acted too hastily in my judgement of you. I’m sorry.”

«It’s fine. You weren’t exactly wrong. I was a threat.»

“...? What do you-”

A flash of scarlet lightning lit up the horizon, followed by a booming thunder that rattled Rusty’s very bones and briefly deafened him. He couldn’t help but wince. 

«I’m looking for Walter,» Raven said in an unexpected non-sequitur, forcibly dropping the last topic. «His corpse is on this ship somewhere.»

[quibbs126]

Trade offer

I get: Licorice x Almond fan child

You get: a wacky Mushroom that will fill you with whimsy

Do you accept? (PleazspelasepleaseIneedlicolmondcontentibegofthee)

I know this has been probably months in the making (sorry about that), but I finally got to it, and their names are Marzipan Cookie and Black Sesame Cookie

Originally I was just going to stick with Marzipan, but after getting that thing from anon with suggestions for Marzipan’s character, I decided to use one of the other names for some of the other ideas listed. Thanks again to that anon for the help

I came up with these names a long time ago, so I don’t entirely remember Black Sesame’s name reasoning, other than I think it was based off the seeds and it was because those seeds are a dark color like licorice? And probably some other reason relating to Almond that I can’t remember. But for Marzipan, it’s because marzipan is made from ground almonds

Marzipan and black sesame seeds:

I’ll say one thing, I feel like Marzipan looks almost nothing like Licorice. Hmm, maybe she was younger she had a goth phase where she dressed more like him and maybe dyed her hair? I dunno, but at this point she’s moved past that. I also feel like she looks more like a journalist, when she’s supposed to be a cop. She has a badge somewhere on her jacket, you just don’t see it. The anon mentioned something about skull cuffs, so I thought might as well give her that, so yeah her cuff links are skull shaped. Also originally, her jacket was orange, but I changed it to purple because I thought one of them should at least have a color scheme similar to Licorice (also I was waiting on my friend for a consultance on which colors to use, but she’s going out on vacation, so I just stuck with purple. I should probably find more consultants on this stuff than just her, but also I feel like that’d be rude)

Also I know neither Licorice nor Almond have white hair, but the pictures of marzipan I found were usually an off white color, so I chose to stick with that

As for Black Sesame, I’m pretty happy with his design, it’s pretty much what I wanted. I wanted him to look somewhat like a crazy and/or homeless person, even though he isn’t one. Though maybe I could have given him more detail. Ah well. Oh also, Black Sesame has a slouch, but is also just generally a bit short. Sorry just random detail I wanted to mention

So anyways, let’s get into the two, starting with Marzipan. So she’s part of the police force like Almond (who’s probably the Commissioner at this point), and she specifically deals with homicide cases. Previously, she attended the Parfaedia Institute and learned magic, as well as some from Licorice, and probably her most notable asset is that she can temporarily bring a victim back from the dead via licorice magic (even if she herself doesn’t have much licorice in her dough), so they can figure out how they died and who killed them. Unfortunately, she has the bad luck that almost all of the victims she deals with don’t have those answers, so she still has to try and figure things out for herself, though the victims can be helpful in the process. To be honest, her cases tend to go more like Ace Attorney cases, with a lot of wacky hijinks and things being relatively light hearted (you know for a murder case). She loves her job but she can get frustrated sometimes with the amount of weird stuff she has to deal with to get her job done. Also you know that clip of suspects having to sing I Want it That Way? I’d imagine she’d be the cop in that scene (sorry I’ve never seen Brooklyn 99, only clips)

As for Black Sesame, he’s a teenager that also attends Parfaedia, but he has little if any interest in learning magic, and is only still going because he likes the potions track (which Prune Juice likely had some involvement in, but I’m not sure how). His big thing is that he’s an author of a series of murder mysteries, which he loosely bases off of Marzipan’s talks of her cases (and case files as well as her diary, but he doesn’t tell her about that last bit). Like he’ll lift certain elements from her cases that he thinks are interesting (as well as the main character being a cop that brings people back from the dead), and then insert them into this stories. Though unlike how Marzipan’s actual cases tend to be more on the wacky side, Black Sesame’s versions tend to be incredibly dark and gritty with gratuitous amounts of violence and vulgarity. However, Black Sesame doesn’t just do this because he wants to make edgy fanfiction, it’s because he’s trying to make statements based on the stories at hand, choosing to use the dark tone as a form of satire while also being a commentary on things (unfortunately I don’t really know what those messages or things are, because I’m not good at deeper meanings to stories, I kind of have to be told them by other people to understand them). He generally doesn’t condone the dark things he puts in his stories, he just uses them to make a point

His books are actually incredibly successful, some people reading it for satire, and some just because of the dark content. However he hasn’t made it publicly known that he’s the writer of the series (he uses a pen name), with it really only being kept between his publishers and his family. He does it partially because he thinks that revealing a teenager wrote these books could lessen people’s opinions on the books, and also he thinks it’s funny if he doesn’t tell people, like some of his classmates read them and love them, including plenty of people who just generally don’t like him, and he thinks it’s hilarious, and he wants to keep it up until the best possible moment to publicly reveal himself so that he can see the looks on their faces when they realize he’s the author

Marzipan doesn’t read the books (hence why she doesn’t know he reads her diary for info), mostly just because she knows the main character is based on her and the stories are based on her cases, and she finds it a bit too surreal to read about. And while no one knows the real identity of the author, other people in the precinct suspect Marzipan has some connection to them, considering the main character sounds suspiciously like her and the cases in it sound a bit too much like their cases for these to be complete coincidence

Also I’m considering the idea that they have a youngest sister called Swirl Taffy who wants to be a wizard and is just generally an optimistic child, but Black Sesame keeps trying to get her into dark things and Marzipan has to stop him (but she probably already knows the dark stuff and is cool with it), but I don’t think I’ll draw her, just a random concept

But yeah, I think that’s all on Marzipan and Black Sesame. Hope you like them!

[tea-and-secrets]

I worry about my future, but what I’m able to accomplish and what others think I can accomplish. I think I compensate for other people, so as to not feel their judgment. I allude more to what my future may be, I make it vague when I myself know it is clear, I say I have more options but I do not want those options. I’m afraid my Dad will give up on me. He’’ll think it wasn’t worth it, and after the many, many times I said it wasn’t, he might actually believe it. I’m scared my sisters will think I was pathetic for not trying, but I’ve tried, and I still am, working hard, doing my best, But I wonder if best is enough, maybe their best is better? Maybe my best isn’t even half of what they are. And then the age old question I’ve faced for half my life comes running back, just as it knows the road is clear for it to reign freely - why can’t i be like them? Though I know the answer to this question, I feel it in every conversation, every hangout, every fight, every celebration, it’s so easy to ignore, yet I feel so guilt ridden to do just that, like I’m not honest, with them, with myself, like im not telling them that im not what they think,that im not them, just a failure. I hate to cry about old wounds, but scars are lasting and this one hurts even after the 9th bandage shoved its way across my stomach, im sick. and tired. of feeling like im not one of my sisters, like im not smart, or pretty, or sensible, or funny, or like if i acted like myself than i would be the farthest thing from what they are. I’m so scared. What if one day they leave me alone again? What if they make me hate myself again? What if they think i deserve to feel that way again? I know i don’t. But do they? Do they convince themselves that ive changed? Ive become one of them? I wish, i wish so badly that i could be like them, so pretty, so smart, so sensible, so funny, i wanna be like them, i convinced myself for years that i just had to try harder and i would be if i spent years convincing myself i could be all of that on my own. But i dont know. did i waste years obsessing over being one of them, or being a perfect version of myself and now im neither? Im not sure, i dont know, and i'm so scared im gonna end up like 6 years ago - hating myself, and praying to god i could be them so i would love myself. I attempted it you know? I actually tried 3 times, and failed 3 times evidently with the way im writing this 6 years later. I wonder if i thought itd be like this, i feel a sense of clarity knowing that im not that anymore, not despising myself anymore, but i wonder, if it’ll all come back. I learnt in society n culture that the theory on change is that it might be linear or circular, i think its circular, history repeats itself constantly but at the same time we dont regress in our most advanced institutions. i don’t know if nursing or the way we medicate changes in 30-50 years but i don’t think we’ll go back to believing we should leave it upto god. not to say god isn’t who we should depend on, i am faithful, when it comes down to science or philosophy, god rules everytime. But that doesn’t mean human concepts aren’t futile on me, in the wise words of Lessons in Chemistry - Religion is the why, Science is the how - and like all things i believe, god is involved in every step of evolution and change and repetition and that they are things that happen through the power of god and the lack of from humans. The point is, we’re ever-changing for the better but we will repeat ourselves, our mistakes, our decisions. So what if my self hatred is just a repeating cycle, waiting for the next obstacle to let its self out? If so i think id rather of killed myself 6 years ago,

.

[cath-lic]

hello!!!! first of all, i love your blog and i love how you embrace your sexuality and love god :3 what would you recommend for someone who was hurt by religion? (particularly catholicism). it made me paranoid, scrupulous. as a neurodivergent woman with disability, i always felt that i don’t fit, so i’m no longer religious. is it okay to not like THE church (as an institution) but still love God? and do you have any other social media so we could speak more on it? ♥️

hello my sibling!! thank you very much for the sweet compliment.

to be honest, (and assuming you’re also american, though pardon me if i’m wrong), i think we’re all scarred from american christianity. i’m not trying to minimize your trauma; rather, i’m letting you know that i can empathize with you a little bit.

this might need its own post, but i’m seeing scrupulosity becoming more and more of a problem in the current online age, on both sides of the political spectrum. i think you’d be surprised at how many people feel very similar to you, even if they’re not religious, either. tumblr culture, especially, emphasizes scrupulosity (and to be honest, i think all social media does—i’ve been thinking about doing a social media cleanse recently because of this very thing).

you may feel as though you don’t fit in, but i’d like to remind you that mary magdalene, one of christ’s closest disciples, also faced her own problems with mental illness. scripture states that she was possessed by demons, and although of course we can’t be sure whether it was actual possession or mental illness, i think it’s safe to say that she would absolutely know where you’re coming from. (i say this not to go “you can conquer your mental illness if you believe enough,” but instead to assure you that our beloved blorbos from the bible would understand our struggles even today).

there are many disabled people in the bible. though, of course, they are very often the subjects of miracle healing, it is telling that jesus emphasizes that their disability is not a mark of sin or a matter of “deserving it,” it’s simply a facet of them.

there are countless stories i could cite, but i think it boils down to this: jesus is with the poor, the disabled, the meek, the unclean, and the ostracized at all times. jesus was poor and ostracized. he is not with one singular nation or ideology. if he sees someone being mistreated, regardless of who they are or what they’ve done, he is with them.

i promise you, you fit.

as for whether it’s okay to not like the church, and for what i might recommend—again, i can’t offer religious advice, but i can offer my opinion.

i think it’s fine to dislike the church. to be honest, they haven’t given us a whole lot of reasons to like them! god was here before the church and he’ll be here after the church. some might say that loving god is loving the church, which is a whole other discussion, but in short, god understands. IMO, it is more important to love yourself, your neighbor, and love through and with god, than to devote yourself to an institution. after all, contemporarily, the big institutions of the time weren’t exactly super hep on christianity.

part of strengthening my relationship with god was through finding a church i really enjoyed. this, of course, might not be desirable or available to you. i would say that finding a community who can accept both your sexuality & your faith (easier said than done) is the truest way you can establish your own version of church.

building and supporting a loving community is probably the most rewarding thing i can think of, regardless of someone’s faith/lack thereof. i’ve often dreamed of establishing a little trans christian commune, actually, although i know it’s just a fantasy. but i think creating a network of people who care for one another and can live and work in harmony is about the closest we can get to heaven on earth!

while i do have other social media, i don’t have any other faith-related accounts. you’re very welcome to make a side blog and message me here, or join the trans catholics discord. if these aren’t options for you, though, i understand—you’re ofc welcome to send me another ask whenever you’d like.

good night, my sibling. have a wonderful weekend, and god bless ❤️❤️❤️

[stardustprompts]

the king of crows (  book 4 of the diviners series  )   -  libby bray  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying   tw ;  death , suicide idealization 

‘did anyone ever tell you that you sleep with your mouth open?’

‘you two. I don’t know whether to hope you get married or hope you never do.’

‘if this goes badly, don’t you dare come back and haunt me.’

‘doesn’t matter what’s true. it matters what people think is true.’

‘well, if there’s going to be drama, i’m all in.’

‘for the first time in my life, I got something to lose.’ 

‘I know from experience that saying no to you is a full time job.’ 

‘he only cares about power. he only cares about winning, no matter the cost.’

‘let’s fight fire with fire.’

‘you want to remake the world in your image, like a malevolent god?’

‘stop joking around. this is serious.’

‘you think your institutions will save you? they’re part of this.’

‘who died and made you boss?’

‘you’re still playing by their rules. you’ll never get anywhere that way.’

‘if trouble’s gonna come calling it won’t find me at home. it’ll have to chase me down first.’

‘i just don’t know how we make things work between us.’

‘please, please don’t hate me. I couldn’t bear it.’

‘you’re always you. always honest.’

‘i’ll kill you. I swear I will.’

‘greatness requires some sacrifices.’

‘i’m just saying, some doors are very good closed.’

‘well, I’m sorry I’m not as clever as you are.’

‘nobody’s who they say they are.’

‘if we survive this, you are dead to me.’

‘I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an insult.’

‘there’s things out there. and they’re coming for us.’

‘I will kiss you as much as you like.’

‘i’m afraid this isn’t real. i’m afraid in a minute i’ll wake up and i’ll be here but you won’t be.’

‘i’m here, (name), and I promise I will never leave you again.’

‘are you sure you should be doing that? after all you’ve been through?’

‘I like the way you apologize.’

‘don’t get used to it. i’m very rarely wrong.’

‘how are you gonna fight if you don’t believe there’s any goodness in this world worth saving?’

‘why are we trying to save this country? what’s it ever done for us? maybe we should just let it burn.’

‘you got me, didn’t you? your life couldn’t have gone too wrong.’

‘our last words to each other were angry. it haunts me. I wish I could undo it.’

‘it haunts me. I wish I could undo it.’

‘you know what heroes do? they pay attention.’

‘you really could make a joke of anything, couldn’t you?’

‘you aren’t invited to comment on everything in my life.’

‘I want better for you. you deserve happiness.’

‘whatever you do, will you come back to me?’

‘what were you thinking? were you trying to be dumb?’

‘am i the only one here with a lick of common sense?’

‘we might be spending too much time together.’

‘when you put it that way, sounds like we don’t have a chance in hell.’

‘i’m not cocky. can I help it if I’m just that good?’

‘I hate maps. and directions. and rules.’

‘they don’t want to hear what you have to say. this is what they want: blood.’

‘who wants to etch their name into this story?’

‘I was having the most beautiful dream. I was … happy.’

‘I told you. but you never did listen to me, did you?’

‘I was afraid I’d never see you again.’

‘I told you that you’d be sorry.’

‘what happens if such power goes unchecked?’

‘i’m not telling anyone about this. and you’re not gonna, either.’

‘fine, no hurry. it’s only the end of the world we’re worried about here.’

‘I can face just about anything. but I can’t do it without you.’

‘the world is a terrible place. it never learns.’

‘I used to think I wouldn’t care if I died. I just kept throwing myself at life, hoping I’d hit the bullseye eventually. I thought death would be a relief from all that feeling.’

‘I used to think I wouldn’t care if I died. I thought death would be a relief from all that feeling. a relief not to have to feel all that pain. not to care so much.’

‘you think you’re the only one who ever feels that way?’

‘how do you go on… with all that loneliness inside you?’

‘you know, I really thought this was going to be a much more romantic conversation.’

‘I invented trouble. I know how it works.’

‘(name), would you marry me?’

‘I always believed you and I would be special together, but now I know it’s true.’

‘I don’t suppose you could be happy for me, could you?’

‘you and I weren’t meant to be.’

‘that’s what he wants, to get you good and scared. so you won’t fight back.’

‘I don’t think one joke will be the end of us.’

‘something is wrong. don’t you feel it?’

‘i’m not yelling. I’m just … nudging.’

‘it was everything I was afraid of.’

‘maybe we need to lose control sometimes.’

‘I used to feel numb a lot.’

‘i’m so angry all the time.’

‘I don’t know what to do with all these feelings coming up inside me. I don’t know where to put them.’

‘life isn’t always fair, and the choices we make sometimes aren’t always clean.’

‘we can’t do anything about other people do. we can only do right by what we believe.’

‘it’s a hard path to be who you are and try to put your best self into a world that doesn’t always show thanks for it.’

‘you ever wonder if maybe we’re on the wrong side of history?’

‘you’re lying. you’re a liar. nobody likes liars.’

‘you take and you take and you take! well, you can’t have him—- I won’t let you!’

‘nothing about this is natural. it’s an unnatural world.’

‘we’ll always have (name) that way, and we’ll carry him around with us forever.’

‘you and me. if they come for one of us, they come for all of us.’

‘in addition to being a lousy fellow, you’re also a goddamned idiot.’

‘I will make you a swell little medal if we survive.’

‘sometimes you just gotta burn something down so you can build something else in its place.’

‘you were selfish. you are selfish.’

‘that’s all we are in the end. stories.’

‘will you remember me fondly?’

‘i’ve taken nothing that people weren’t willing to give me. out of greed. out of anger. out of fear.’

‘you did have a choice. you made it.’

don’t waste it. make a good life.’

‘I was afraid I’d lose you.’

[i-will-change-this-someday]

MAG 10, Vampire Killer

Trevor was 13 when his father died, in 1956; the statement was given in 2010, so he was 67, making him roughly 77 when he died.

“While I have witnessed them avoid direct sunlight if possible, and wear generally more covering clothes when moving around during the daytime, they seem to have no significant problem doing so.” Is there a reason for them to avoid sunlight? I really don’t think vampires are Dark.

“I just lay there watching as its stomach began to distend and swell, the now bulbous belly straining against the black dress it wore.” I’ve seen it theorized that vampires are Web, and this does remind me of the descriptions of Mr. Spider.

“I certainly don’t believe in wild tales of vampirism, but I can’t help but notice that the statement above appears to be a photocopy of a photocopy, and can’t find these supposed vampire teeth anywhere in the Archives or the Secure Containment Room.” Where are the teeth?

To be honest, I’m not really sure what entity the vampires are, like I said they’re theorized to be Web, but I see an argument for Flesh or Slaughter. Trevor is a Hunter.

MAG 11, Dreamer

“It was there, sleeping on my friend Anahita’s sofa, in the depths of my misery, that I first started to have the dreams.” I wonder why The End picked him, most statements have some explanation why they encountered an entity, but Oliver was just trying to sleep.

Another John this episode, John Uzel.

“It was your face and the expression upon it was far more fearful than any I had seen in eight years of wandering this twilight city.” We literally hear Gertrude die, and I don’t think she was that scared. Also, poor Oliver, dude hasn’t slept well in eight years.

“I had Tim look into it, as I don’t entirely trust the others not to have written it as a practical joke and slipped it into the archives.” Sometimes, I think about this too much.

The dreams are End.

MAG 12, First Aid

“I followed him asked what he was he was doing. I got no answer, but he seemed to know the code to the door immediately and strode right in, scanning the shelves for something.” I wonder how aligned Gerry was with The Eye, not enough to save him, but enough to Know some things, it seems.

“I just stood there and watched as he took out the scalpel, muttered some words I couldn’t make out, and plunged the blade into the centre of the chanting man’s throat.” Does he actually have to say something to be able to kill him? Or is he just being dramatic?

“Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he “speaks Latin,” then he might be talking nonsense again, but I’ve looked it up and it appears to check out.” Does Martin actually speak Polish? Also, I wonder if Jon knows Latin, he seems like the sort that would.

The unnamed man is Desolation, Diego Molina, I think; Gerry's Eye.

MAG 13, Alone

The first live statement giver, and, right off the bat, she insults the institute.

Jon was originally going to leave her to make her statement, I wonder if he chose to stick around for the later ones, or they all asked him to stay. Maybe Elias made him stay with the statement givers.

I'm guessing Evan never actually died, just "starved" himself until he went into a coma; Naomi's loneliness at his funeral gave him enough to call out to her, but he probably had to stay away from her, and go back to feeding The Lonely.

Girl, you probably should go to a qualified care professional, you lost the love of you life, all your friends, and then got hit by a car, and you decide to vent to research institute.

Obviously Lonely

[milkteamoon]

Full Moon

Round 3, Jon and Daisy this time! (and maybe some werewolves...maybe)

1.6k words, s4 spoilers (read on ao3)

—

Honestly, she probably should have expected the reaction.

Maybe she’d just assumed that the whole thing being her idea would lessen the blow. Make it more palatable. Sure, it wasn’t ideal, but it was better than the alternative options involving ropes and gags and a weekend vacation in artefact storage — Basira’s suggestion, of course. Melanie’s had been more along the lines of “drive him out to the middle of nowhere and hope he doesn’t find his way back,” but she’d said it with the kind of smirk that made Daisy think that she was joking. Probably. Possibly.

Jon’s first question when she showed him the chain had been a faint, emphatic, “Are you out of your mind?”

And Daisy had snorted at that, shifted the cuffs between her hands and said, “It’s just for the week, while Basira’s away. Something...something to keep an eye on you and your diet. Keep an eye on each other.”

“So what,” he’d answered, “if one of us snaps we just......hope we kill each other before someone else stumbles across us?”

“Melanie has the key, if anything goes south. Though I don’t think dragged along your scrawny corpse behind me would do much for slowing me down, if it comes to that.”

“So we kill each other,” Jon had grumbled, then muttered something under his breath about half-assed plans and liabilities, and then he’d agreed. She hadn’t expected him not to. That’s the difference between the Jon she’d dragged out to the forest with a knife last year and the Jon that had dragged her out of the coffin weeks ago — a difference she finds in herself, most days, with the fight still packed down under several layers of cloying dirt in her chest.

Of course, Jon’s next question had been how they would handle things like showering, and Daisy had grinned when she’d told him he wasn’t the first guy she’d seen without trousers (don’t flatter yourself, Jon). He hadn’t asked any more questions after that. He hadn’t been able to say much at all, all stuttering and flushed down to his t-shirt neckline — maybe Basira had been right about him being pretty funny. Maybe she just hadn’t been listening properly before she’d gone in the coffin.

But that’d been two days ago now. Two relatively normal days, if she’s being honest, save for the chain binding them at the wrists. Jon had his...routine of typical archiving work, and Daisy had her routine of following him around and trying to stay out of the way. They slept together in document storage. They ate together in the breakroom (or rather, Daisy ate and Jon sat there quietly with his too-sweet cup of tea, unless, of course, she tried to shove a forkful of something healthy down his gullet). They went for a walk twice a day so Daisy could stretch her legs — just up to the library though, given that handcuffs weren’t exactly appropriate for a trip down to the corner store. It’s normal. It’s routine. It’s enough to make Daisy wonder how she manages to make payroll without ever really doing anything, but perhaps rich assholes like the Lukas fellow simply don’t give a shit about that type of thing.

And honestly, it’d been......a calm change of pace, if she’s being honest. No worms or mannequins or flesh...things; just Jon at his desk doing whatever Jon did, and Daisy in her office chair across minding her business. Like now, as she attempts to battle the Institute’s twenty-year outdated wi-fi system to watch a football match on her phone.

Though she doesn’t need the buffering boredom to know when he’s staring at her.

“Sims.”

“Hm?”

“Spit it out.”

He blinks, wide-eyed over the top of his laptop. “I-I’m sorry?”

“You’re looking at me like you’ve got a question,” she clarifies, watching as the phone screen jolts to life momentarily before falling back into a blurry frame, “so. Out with it.”

He clears his throat, looking the slightest bit guilty — something she should probably find funny, given that this is apparently what triggers his mess of a moral compass. “R-right. I was just...ah, wondering if you had any allergies?”

Daisy gives him a look, and Jon, somehow, wilts even further into himself. Then she lays down her phone on the desk, and answers, “Shellfish.”

“Oh. Really?”

“No,” she retorts, “that was a joke. Why do you ask?”

“O-oh! I was just um......checking...some things.........” he mutters, shuffling through a random stack of papers from the side of the desk in a very poor attempt to mask whatever else he has on his mind. Typical Sims. Never one for subtlety. “So um...no, no plants, then?”

“...Plants?”

“Like, erm. Flowers?”

Daisy leans back in her chair — an old, creaky thing that houses a menagerie of stains smudged into the cheap fabric, which would probably disgust her if she wasn’t already used to the filth of cop car bucket seats. She rubs the soft fuzz of her chin and mutters, “Don’t think so.”

“Hm.” He clicks his pen, scribbles something down on his crumpled legal pad, then asks, “What about jewelry?”

“Do I look like someone who wears jewelry?”

“W-well, no, I was just......no silver, or anything?”

“Silver?” Daisy repeats, scrunching her face in thought. “What are you on about?”

Jon looks at her. Then he looks back to his notes. Then he pulls at a strand of hair that’s come loose from the tie and twists his mouth in a myriad of unreadable knots. Thinking. Never a good sign. “I just...y-you said you’d been, I don’t know, feeling......off, the past couple of days? And well...” he lets out a half-choked, humorless laugh, “tomorrow is a full moon.”

The match on her phone roars back into motion for one brilliant, blinding moment before shutting off. Dead battery. In the black screen, her muddied expression looks back at her.

“Sims.”

“Yes?”

“You...do know I’m not a werewolf, right?”

Jon winces as if he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Er, statement jar? Statement...filing cabinet. Whatever he ate from these days.

“I-I know that,” he answers quietly.

Daisy gives him a look down the bridge of her nose.

“I do!” he insists, hands tying tightly around the torso of his oversized sweater. “I was just...curious, as to how much, well, legend and reality overlapped.”

“So you did think I was a werewolf.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps, and Daisy can’t help but chuckle at his smoldering indignance as he folds in tighter on himself. It’s a Jon she hasn’t seen in a while — the kind that puts up a fight, even if he’s dead wrong — and it’s nice, in a way. Reminds her of old times. The proper bastard she’d come to dislike back when he couldn’t hurt her.

She wonders what that says about her, now that they’re something akin to friends.

Daisy pulls up a knee and folds her arms around it. “And besides,” she says, “wouldn’t that make you one too?”

Jon blinks. “W-what?”

She nods to his arm. He follows her gaze down to his unchained wrist where the soft skin around his veins is punctured by old teeth marks, barely noticeable amongst the rest of his scars, and he lets out a soft, “oh.” Like he’d forgotten about it. And hell, maybe he had — maybe the terror of getting his throat nearly cut out had eclipsed the part where she’d clamped down on his arm trying to pull him out of the car to do it. That was the old Jon though, the one that put up a fight. Not much of a fight, mind you, but...well. He’d tried.

“Huh.” Jon rubs his thumb idle over the marks. “I......I guess you’re right.”

Daisy rubs at her cuffed wrist, leaning back into her chair with a creak. “Probably for the best,” she muses, “don’t think you’d make a very good one.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not......scary enough,” she explains with a long inhale. “Too skittish.”

Jon lets dry laugh. “I think you could contact literally anyone who’s ever given a statement here and they’d argue differently.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the right kind of scary. You’re more like......like an overdue water bill.”

Jon looks at her for a long time. Like he’s turning over the words in his head. Like he’s sizing her up. Calculating. Hunting. And then...

And then—

And then he raises a hand to cover his mouth as he cracks into a soft laugh. Something that Daisy isn’t sure she’s ever seen him do before — hell, she’d started to wonder if he was even capable of such. Mostly he just seemed to be annoyed or scared out of his wits.

“You know,” Jon says, pitch pulled by his smile, “that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Daisy can’t help herself from smiling back. “Sure. Now come on, we’re going up to watch the match in the lobby.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’ I’m tired of watching you work on a Friday night. Contrary to whatever your freaky boss thinks, you’re not as interesting as football.”

Jon gives her a look, grumbling a few things about “our freaky boss” and about work before a sharp tug on the chain gets him moving, and then he quits his grumbling. He’s obedient like that, Daisy will admit. Like a dog on a leash; not much of a fighter, not much of anything to be scared of, but well.

Well.

She holds out her arm, and he takes it, for whatever reason.

Perhaps she’d been a bit too presumptuous with her earlier assessments.