#gridworker

[sidewalkchemistry]

[metaphysicalpistolsoraclemine]

The Guardian Host serving the Christos Mission will never initiate contact through urgency, coercion, demands, manipulation or use force. They will never accept involvement in any mind control agenda or that which violates natural laws, or violates the rights of any human being or life form, and consistently emanate the highest Krystic ethics conducting themselves within the Law of One principles and the scientific laws that govern the mechanics of creation. Authentic Guardian races will assist any sincere spiritual seeker that addresses them through principles of the Law of One, whereby they are committed to the expression of unconditional love, truth, respect and reverence for life.

Assorted offerings are being marketed to the new age community as a method to manipulate those on the Earth surface to believe that putting people in danger through group gridwork in the midst of grid warring, or going underground, leaving the Earth, with an otherworldly escort to the inner earth timeline would be much more beneficial for them on the ascending path. The dark cabal is utilizing this narrative as a premeditated programming bargaining chip, as they have been planning several options of fake alien invasion scenarios during the final conflict battle of the timeline wars, in order to create a 'good alien space god versus the bad aliens' to further confuse the surface inhabitants. This is an false flag attempt of negative factions to use hostages to ride out of interdimensional access portals through the hijack of Indigo or Starseeded lines, as well as an attempt to gain control over timelines. Some of this agenda is being carried out through the guise of gridworking groups that are being led into demographics with highly active grid wars, where the dark ones desire to hitchhike upon the participants collective consciousness for a multitude of reasons.

The Guardians caution all ascending people to be awake and aware in order to take good care of ourselves and not accept hidden or secret offers that are glamourized as personal tickets to a promised land for special people. Whether it is an offer to go to Mars, offers to be in secret space programs, offers to travel underground, or offers to travel with special gridworking teams on important missions, please be aware that the benevolent and independent forces working to free humanity are not involved in these recruiting schemes. At this stage of the final conflict, there is a high likelihood of NAA hitchhikers manipulating these offers from behind the scenes or that it involves galactic trafficking.

Those of us involved in the Christos Mission, may have received more aggressive attempts to ensnare us into anti-Christ Consciousness Traps that are set by these same factions who are attempting to gain control of these areas through the manipulation of artificial timelines, cloned versions and holographic inserts. Guardian teams have been working underground in the Crystal Caverns and have been involved in more retrievals, some secretly rescuing underground hostages or stasis beings.

Thus, certain areas on the Earth that are weakened through the damage and bifurcation in the Timelines, will simultaneously increase energetic chaos which amplify descending energy pockets. At this time, many of us may be re-assigned to a new demographic or place of residence, because our timeline mission with certain areas of earth are expiring. We have completed a cycle in the timeline and our new residence will reflect a higher degree of value exchange and energetic balance to support our foundation to the next stage of our spiritual mission. This means some of us will actually be guided to stabilize in a certain area, and the nomad stage will end.

We are needed to be physically located and stationed in certain areas of the planet, in order to environmentally harmonize and work with those particular fields and coordinates.

[metaphysicalpistolsoraclemine]

Over the past few months, many of us on the ascending path have been elevated out from 3D morphogenetic fields, thus, our consciousness body shifted to the next octave into the next Harmonic Universe. As a result our Lightbody is existing above the 3D earth body, even while we are inhabiting our body on the material plane. Because, there are not that many of us in numbers, relative to the overall human population, those of us that are StarseedGridworkers have been working on special project mission to help restore Trinity gates, while bifurcation events and Plasma influxes are occurring. This event has created some issues in bifurcation that dark entities have taken advantage over to control these gates and stop them from working as they need to. Essentially, a struggle to repair and maintain these gates is transpiring while they can take advantage of the current vulnerabilities in the field. The NAA has attacked some of our people, as a way to get to others, such as myself, because they are very angry at us for using these Trinity Gates as portal access. When we remove people from the earth or astral, this is considered by them that we are stealing souls from them to harvest, so they are very angry when we take people through these portals.

Trinity Gates are required to be plugged into other gates in order to work effectively, such as what we refer to as Mother Arc Gates or Ark Covenant gates. They run off the Mother Arc Gates portal between planet earth and the Andromeda galaxy. To work with the Mother Arc gates and proficiently help to plug them into the Trinity Gates, 12 DNA strand activation of Diamond Sun is needed. Some of us have grid missions to use this with Guardian Krystal Star Hosting and thus we are capable to have access for this purpose here and our HGS session are supporting this particular mission. This allows us to connect with these gates and plug them into the Trinity gates, which allows people access to safe passage and transit with average DNA activation levels. This is relative for people that drop their body on earth in the current time, in the past or future timelines, providing they do not activate higher DNA imprints. The Mother Arc Gates or Polarian Gate go directly to the Aurora time continuums, so that would be the major preference for most of us.

Trinity Gates

1 Malibu beach, Malibu California

2 Belize City, Belize, Central America

3 Goa ,India (1mile of SE coast)

4 Staten Island, NYC, New York

5 SE Tuscany, 7 Miles of Castaglione, Italy)

6 Fiji , South Pacific Ocean

7 Andaman Sea (7miles W of coast Tavoy)

8 Auckland City, North Island, N-Zealand

9 Lake Superior, Canada (2miles of coast Thunder Bay)

10 Hatshepsut Temple, Egypt

11 Epsom Downs, Surrey United Kingdom

12 Cork, Ireland

Trinity Hub Gate is in Cornwall, Uk, can be a connector portal for all other Trinity Gates and is also a Mother Arc Gate.

Mother Arc Star Gates

1 Adare, Ireland

2 Stonehenge, England

3 Seattle, Wash, US

4 Manhattan Island, US

5 Bali, South Pacific

6 Uluru (Ayers Rock), Australia

7 Phoenix, Arizona US

8 Atlantic Ocean, SW of Bermuda (64.9W, 32.1N)

9 Antarctica (13W, 88S)

10 Baghdad, Iraq

11 Newgrange Ireland

12 Cornwall, UK

Recently, there has been gridwork focused to hold connector points for Trinity Gates in Cork, Ireland, Surrey, UK and Hatshepsut Temple, as well as a working on the Krystal Cathedral anchor in the Trinity Hub gate in Cornwall, UK. Additionally Uluru, Bali, Seattle and Phoenix, because they act as the portal links for some of the Trinity Gates.

Thank you and hoping that this information is a helpful reference as well as supportive to our earth gridwork, in comprehending why we may be working in some of these areas.

[theadventurek9]

Ryker has finally taken to grid work exercises so we have started more fitness and grid work from our Jumping Gymnastics course we took a while ago.

He has decided that sending to the treat and train is actually fun and he is willing to do more than just run around things to it.

Set point exercise with jump set at 18"

[rootedandroaming]

A Soft Revolution of Light

For the ones who feel the call of the new Earth… There is a quiet stirring beneath the noise of the old world. A vibration hums through the hearts of the awakened.Not all can hear it yet,but those who do are being called home. Not to the homes we’ve known,but to the ones we are meant to build. Small, conscious communities are being created—not by strategy, but through divine inspiration.Not as…

[goodgirlofglory]

In the balance - Chapter 9: the world in the balance

Chapter 8

/Masterpost/

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 6,1k

Warnings: non-con (series), dub-con (series), descriptions of ptsd symptoms, panic attacks, descriptions and references to past psychological, sexual and physical abuse

Summary: your world is suddenly turned on it’s head when Steve leaves you in the care of his best friend to go hunt your attackers down. You just have to get through it until Steve returns, but that can prove difficult when Bucky starts to prod into you and Steve’s relationship...

Note: First of all, it’s been a year since i last updated this story and it’s been a bitch. I'm starting to see the ending approach though, which is great cuz im looking forward to write it🥰 For those of you who have been consistently commenting on how you were looking forward to the next chapter - THANK YOU! You guys kept me going<333 Hope you enjoy🦋

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you not to interact if the contents of the warnings upset you!

Minors DO NOT INTERACT!🚫

Reblogs, likes, replies and asks are amazing💖

You stared out of the floor to ceiling window, vertigo sloshing in the back of your head as you peered down at the gridwork of roads and flashing lights, the cars and people looking like ants from all the way up here in the clouds. You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself, fighting the nausea down.

A broad hand suddenly clasped around the back of your neck and you jolted.

“Whoah there, it’s just me,” Steve said as he gave your neck an affectionate squeeze. He stepped up behind you and wrapped you in his arms, his big, warm hands sliding down to stroke lovingly over your swollen belly. It was getting heavier for each day that passed, and the kid was getting more restless along with it. You leaned your head back against his chest, closing your eyes as he swayed you from side to side.

- a flash of light in the dark, cold marble under your bare feet, a sickening crunch. So much blood -

Your eyes shot open and you heaved for breath, suddenly choking on air.

“Whoah there, it’s alright,” Steve said, turning you around and putting his hands on your shoulders while bending down to catch your eyes. “I know this is a big change, and we both would rather be back home, but it’s not safe there anymore. Remember I told you that, buttercup? Not like up here. The building is heavily secured and no helicopter could sneak in - the city has a million eyes. You’re safe here, sweetheart, there’s no need to worry that pretty, little head. I’m gonna keep you safe like I always have,” he said, repeating what he’d been telling you over the last 24 hours as you’d moved across the country.

A penthouse in the middle of Manhattan, New York City. 8,4 million people right below you, crawling underfoot while you swayed up in the clouds, 1300 feet up in the air. Your worst nightmare a couple of months ago. Now, you didn’t really know how to feel. You were so tired, and confused. Your memories of that horrible night were blurry blotches, and you fought between not wanting to remember all those atrocious images of blood splattering and bones breaking, and feeling so panicky over the black spots in your recollection it made your head all loopy.

“Besides, Bucky will be here with you, to keep you safe until I return to you,” Steve continued, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek softly.

That’s right, Steve was leaving. After everything that had happened, Steve was leaving, almost right this second. To catch the guys that were behind the attack on the mansion and see that they’re put away, all so I can get back to you and the baby before it’s born, he’d said when you’d hidden your face in his chest and sobbed uncontrollably at him breaking the news of his departure.

You supposed you understood. He wanted the bad men in jail by the time you went into labor, so he could be with you from then on without worrying for your safety. You got the logic of it, it was now or never. It still terrified you. You needed Steve, and just when everything was going so well between you, he was leaving you. All alone in this huge, fancy penthouse in a city with millions of people. Okay, you knew you were being irrational and naggy and ungrateful. Steve had gotten you the most secure, safe and luxurious residence he could after the mansion, perhaps even more secure, under the ever watchful gaze of the city, breaking in would be even more difficult. Besides, Steve had apparently been their primary target that night, not you. So if he was out there hunting them hunting him, the target was off your back, collateral or not. Plus, Steve was leaving Bucky here for you.

Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. There is no one in this world I trust more than him. He's the only one besides myself I would entrust with your safety. An old friend, the polar opposite of Steve. Scruffy where Steve was cleanly groomed, broody where Steve was charming, quiet where Steve knew the perfect things to say. You'd barely even spoken a word to Bucky, and he always seemed to have this glare directed your way, scrutinizing your every move with cold eyes under a heavy brow. Neither of you had seemed particularly pleased with the arrangement, but Steve had assured you Bucky was the sweetest, most nobel man out there, and that he would do this for you and Steve - no questions asked. Didn’t change the trickle of ice that ran down your spine at the way Bucky assessed you, the coldness in his stare, and the way it put you on edge.

So Steve was leaving, and you were to be alone in this strange, new home with a man you didn’t know. And you were seven and a half months pregnant. With Steve’s super enhanced baby. If you weren’t so sure of the baby’s strength, you’d worry about an early labor from all the duress you’d been under these last few days…

Steve pulled you into his arms, careful not to squish your belly too hard, and kissed the top of your head while stroking a soothing hand up and down your back. You needed his touch so bad, had become so addicted to his constant physical connection, you were already dreading the withdrawals when he left. You already felt lonely.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmured into your hair, tilting your head back to tenderly kiss your lips. “You be a good girl for me, and treat Bucky like this is his home too,” he murmured against your lips, making you shiver. It had been days since he’d fucked you, you hadn’t had any time alone between moving residence and him planning whatever mission he was going on with his organisation. You were aching for him, body and soul, and weren’t ready for him to go. You weren’t ready…

But he left either way.

And then you were at a complete loss. What were you supposed to do in a penthouse all day without Steve? You couldn’t take walks like on the vast lawns of the mansion with the soft, perpetually green grass under your bare feet. The penthouse was huge, sure, and two stories, with several enormous bedrooms with private bathrooms and a sitting area on the second floor and big kitchen and way too big living room on the first, along with a personal spa, a private cinema, guest rooms, personal gym and more bathrooms. Nearly the whole apartment had floor to ceiling windows, making your slight vertigo a constant with how the looming, chaotic city below and endless sky above. And you, floating in the middle. Your only option was to go down all those levels and walk in the city. Could you even do that?

A knock on the door had you slowly emerging from your thoughts, sitting on the edge of your new bed in your new bedroom, the sheets unrumpled and made up exactly like a hotel. How long had it been since Steve left? Five minutes? Five hours? You turned around to see Bucky standing in the opening of the cracked open door, shoulders almost as broad as the doorway.

“I’ve prepared some food for you,” he said, leveling you a very evaluating stare you tried not to shrink under.

Food. You had no appetite, your stomach full of dark, messy feelings and a restless baby. But you always ate when Steve prepared your meals nowadays, so you should probably do it when Bucky did too. You gave a little nod, and the brunette didn’t wait around for you to walk together down to the first floor of the penthouse.

Down in the kitchen, the aroma of creamy sauce and garlic filled your nose, and you tried opting for a seat at the kitchen island before realizing you just couldn’t get up with your belly. Bucky was loading up plates by the stove, and turned in time to see you wobble on your feet as you tried hiking yourself on the high bar stool. Your cheeks were hot with mild embarrassment as you instead opted for the dining table right next to the kitchen, sighing in relief as you got the weight off your bloated feet. They were already starting to hurt like hell, and Steve hadn’t been gone even a day yet.

Bucky appeared a moment later and put a dish down next to you. Pasta with mushrooms of some kind, a cheesy cream sauce and small pieces of bacon. The aroma was mouth watering. Bucky took the seat across the table from you as you picked up the utensils and started eating. You could scarcely stop the moan escaping you as you took your first mouthful.

“This is delicious,” you said between the next bite and the one after, already shuffling the food into yourself in a rather unmannered way. It took you a while to realize Bucky had neither answered you, nor moved a muscle, his own steaming dish of pasta untouched before him. A ping of unease flared to life inside you.

You looked up to meet his gaze and nearly winced at how cold his eyes were, pinning you with a look that could only be described as scrutiny. Your muscles seized, a premonition blooming. That wasn’t the look you expected, and definitely one that you liked.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“W-what?” you answered after nearly choking on your food. You’d introduced yourself only a few days ago, had he forgotten? How did the room suddenly feel colder, Bucky’s cool, steel eyes raising goosebumps along your skin in a flair of nerves.

“Who do you work for?” he asked.

“I…I don’t have a job anymore, Steve, um… I quit,” you answered, confused, trying not to focus on how you’d gotten out of your last job at that local yarn and handicraft store in your hometown.

“There is no point in feigning innocence here, I’ll get your file any minute now,” he said, and that threw you for a loop before your unease doubled. Your breath was speeding up, getting choppy.

“You’re running background checks on m-me?” you asked. What the hell was he suspecting you of doing? You hadn’t meant to do anything wrong, couldn’t remember having done anything wrong.

Bucky didn’t answer your question, just sat there while his meal turned cold.

“If you have anything to confess, I suggest you do it now, before I get the intel,” he warned you instead.

Your heart was picking up speed, your stomach restless both from a sudden nausea and the kid squirming around. Steve had said Bucky was noble and trustworthy, but here he was being all threatening and cold, and you were locked into this apartment alone with him. The sudden feeling of danger made your head spin, and your mind wandered back to that night.

-sudden lights at the window, your body moving too slow under all its extra weight, your heart in your throat -

Bucky leaned forward in his chair somewhat.

“What are you planning on doing with the baby? What is your plan for Steve?”

Hot tears sprung from your eyes like a sudden faucet, and a violent sob burst from you.

-hot, sticky blood raining down on your face in patters, the mortified gurgling sound of a throat ripped apart -

Your chair toppled over as you jumped up, driven by a flash of adrenalin, and you groaned as your joints protested the sudden movement with pain.

“I…what…n-no, he was the one who..I tried to say no, I never wanted - I didn’t want -”

Your throat closed on another sob, your lungs burning and you just couldn’t draw enough breath into them, panic making you suddenly dizzy. Your thoughts were running too fast, a voice in your head yelling at you to not say anything bad about Steve, about how he got you to the mansion, about how he got you pregnant.

You swayed dangerously to one side, your feet numb and weak, and for a split second you registered Bucky’s expression turning from suspicious and hard to something more concerned, a crack in his confidence. He got to his feet and clasped a hand around your upper arm. On second thought you should’ve realized he was trying to keep you from falling flat on your face, but in the moment all you saw was the masked man who’d tried to pry you from the closet in the mansion and drag you away.

Your reflexes kicked in, and before you knew it, your hands met Bucky’s chest with all the strength you could muster. Bucky did not fly across the room like the masked man had flown down the stairs - Bucky merely stumbled a step back - but the pure shock on his face registered in your mind even through your panicked haze. The half-open mouth, wide eyes and pinprick pupils, the color that drained several shades from his otherwise tanned skin and rosy cheeks. You might as well have flung him to the moon.

Your mind cleared slightly from its dizziness as you realized the baby’s inherited strength had charged yours once again, but your breath was still too short, too fast, the oxygen rasping up and down your esophagus before it could even reach your lungs. You were going to die, your mind thought with a pathetic little whimper.

“Whoah, easy,” Bucky said, taking a step forward with his hands raised in surrender, worry alight on his features where suspicion had been only a minute ago. “Breathe, c’mon breathe,” he said, gently stepping up to where you stood frozen in place, doing all you could to keep conscious as your head started pounding from the pressure and lack of oxygen. You watched as he brought one hand up to cradle your elbow, and found yourself reaching out your own hand to cling to him, grabbing on to his arm with your nails first. It somehow helped, if only a fraction, the warm, real, corporal feeling of his flesh working as a lifeline to keep you rooted to the earth, to reality, to consciousness. Your feet moved on their own, staggering a step closer to grab his other arm with your hand.

Help me, please, help, you thought with desperation as your irregular breaths got fractionally deeper.

“That’s it, breathe for me,” Bucky said as he let you draw closer to him, your nails digging into his skin through the fabric of his shirt. He looked into your eyes, his own calmer now than before, gentler, staring into yours so hard it forced you to focus through your panic, noticing with increasing awareness the speckle of green in his irises, how the light caught the blue, how his pupils slowly expanded as your breaths got longer and more even.

“That’s right, good girl,” he murmured, when at last your breath evened out and you could pry your stiff fingers from where they were stabbing into his forearms.

God, you needed a hug. Your feet felt like jello, there was a stab of pain in the back of your neck. You were going to have such a gnarly headache. And you needed a hug, your nerves hanging on by a frail, frayed thread. You needed Steve, but he wasn’t here, so you needed a hug, and the burly figure in front of you seemed like he gave great, big, warm ones.

Leaning forward, you slumped against Bucky, your face smushing into his chest, not caring that he was a practical stranger and that he’d just accused you of being some secret, evil succubus spy. Bucky stiffened noticeably as you practically fell into him, but then his arms came up to wrap around you, steadying you with an air of politeness.

You’re sure the moment was exceedingly awkward, but you were suddenly so overwhelmed and tired and filled with grief you couldn’t even feel it. Bucky was warm, like a furnace, so incredibly warm.

You were halfway into exhausted slumber by the time Bucky gently pried you away from his chest, and you barely kept the disappointed mewl from slipping past your lips. You looked up into his eyes, and saw tension there, intense and concentrated, along with unmistakable curiosity, still a little tainted by suspicion. But he asked you no further questions, simply said “let’s get you upstairs so you can rest” and then tugged you gently along back to your room and into bed. You were slipping into unconsciousness when you felt the bed dip, the silk sheet being draped over you and a gentle squeeze to your shoulder.

§

You awoke to the gentle rap of knuckles on your door and the smell of chamomile tea. You were still in the same clothes, sheet draped over you, and you blinked bleary, exhausted eyes open to see Bucky standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

You sat up and smiled a little as he made his way over to the bed, though you weren’t quite brave enough to meet his eyes. He put the tray down beside you on the bed and lingered.The tray had a mug of tea and a salad that looked delicious, with a wide variety of greens and cheese, nuts and seeds and a dressing of some kind. It looked like the perfect textbook snack Steve would’ve prepared for you. He’d probably given Bucky list upon list of things to give you and make sure you did while he was away. Steve and his imperious ways. You couldn’t help smile at that, your heart aching for him, feeling that Steve wasn’t too far away for a tiny moment.

“How’re you feeling?” Bucky asked.

“Better,” you said, truly feeling better in that moment, and patted the bed for him to sit and join you. You needed to get along with Bucky if he was Steve’s best friend.

You dug into the food, feeling famished. You felt Bucky watching you, and forced yourself to not lock up. You could feel the questions hanging in the air between you, but if you just pretended everything was fine, maybe he’d forget about asking them. You didn’t know how much Steve would allow you to tell about…well, anything.

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a minute of silence as you ate and sipped from your tea.

Oh crap, here we go

You dared to look up at him, meeting his baby blue eyes for a second before giving him a tiny nod and continuing to eat.

“You said something before…downstairs, when I asked what your plan for the baby and Steve was,” he started. He was speaking softly, no accusation in his tone whatsoever, but your heartbeat still sped up in your chest.

Scrambling, you tried to remember what you’d said. That whole ordeal was a blur, you couldn’t remember much outside feeling you were going to die from lack of oxygen.

Trying to keep your breathing in check, you raised a shoulder, trying for relaxed and feeling much too stiff, hoping against hope that Bucky would just let it go.

“You said that Steve was the one who…something, and that you had tried to say no. That you didn’t want…something,” Bucky said, sitting unmoving on the edge of the bed. You didn’t dare meet his eyes, afraid he’d see something in them you didn’t mean to show. Afraid you would betray Steve in some way, a sickening pulse of guilt wracking through you. “What did you mean by that?” Bucky asked after several long, silent seconds.

You tried opening your mouth to speak only to choke on your own spit, swallowing painful before opening your mouth again.

“I didn’t mean anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about, I didn’t say - I didn’t mean anything with it,” you stammered out, and bloody hell, you didn’t even believe yourself in that moment, all sweaty hands, flaky eyes and trembling voice.

Please don’t ask me anything more about it, you’ll ruin everything

You knew without looking that Bucky didn’t believe you, he was way too quiet for that, unmoving, assessing you, scrutinizing your crumbling appearance.

Why can’t you just let it go?, you thought desperately.

The food you’d just consumed churned in your stomach.

“Are you sure?” you heard him say, and you stared down at your hands in your lap, giving him a tiny, unconvincing nod.

Just leave it, please.

Bucky got up from the bed, the mattress aligning itself without his weight, and stood by it for a moment. You kept your gaze lowered, forcefully holding your anxiety down in order to keep what suspicions you could at bay.

“I’m going out to the city for an errand. Would you like to join me?” he asked.

You couldn’t help how your face shot up in surprise, how your eyes widened as you processed his words.

“What?”

Bucky looked you dead in the eyes, still scrutinizing, but he shifted on his feet as though a bit uncertain of himself.

“Well, Steve told me you liked to walk around the garden of his estate, and he insisted I try and keep your daily routine as unchanged as possible. If you were used to walking a lot, this apartment isn’t really big enough for that, so I thought you could join me in the city to get your steps in. We could take a turn around central park if you’d like,” Bucky said.

Walking. In the city.

You shook your head a little. No, you couldn’t do that. Were you even allowed? You doubted Steve meant for Bucky to take you into the city when he said to keep your routine unchanged. Still, an aching flare of need burst to life in your chest. Going outside. You wanted to go outside, to feel the breeze on your face, smell the rose garden, to listen to the birds. You knew you wouldn’t find much of that in New York city though.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, the need to get outside the glass cage that was the apartment warring with your uncertainty of being with all those people in the streets below. Things had not gone well the last time you’d done that. All that time ago, before things had become so good between you and Steve. Before he’d made you see you weren’t cut out for being independent. That you would be so much happier with him. Under his protection.

“Oh come on, it won’t take long, we’ll go as slow as you need,” Bucky said, and though his tone was lighter now, his eyes didn’t relent in their careful assessment of you.

Would he become more suspicious if you refused? You feared it. What normal woman would suddenly refuse to go for a walk if that was what she was used to? Maybe Steve wouldn’t mind. Or maybe you just desperately wanted to be somewhere else but inside the apartment all the way up in the sky like this, perched and dizzy.

“Okay,” you finally conceded.

You tried for a smile as Bucky bid you to meet him by the private elevator on the first floor in fifteen minutes.

The tiny hope that Steve wanted you to take walks down on the NYC streets soon died as you went through your closet and realized there was no coat nor any real shoes in the wardrobe Steve had curated for you. Uncharacteristically driven to succeed at your prerogative though, you put on a double pair of socks and the flat strappy sandals from way in the back of the closet, dorned your thickest cardigan and made your wobbly way downstairs.

Bucky was waiting by the elevator, checking something on his phone. A phone. How long had it been since you’d seen a mobile phone? He put it away as you approached, smiling as he lifted his gaze to you. His smile quickly turned to a frown as he looked over your outfit.

“It’s way too cold out for that, I’ll get your coat, and you should probably put on some boots,” he said, moving to go past you. Your hand shot out and landed on his chest, halting him.

“N-no, I, uh, I haven’t got any,” you blurted. His warmth burned through the layers of his sweater, distracting as your palm absorbed the heat.

His eyes narrowed on you.

“You haven’t got a coat or shoes?” he asked, and you just knew you’d revealed the wrong thing. This looked so bad.

“No, I do,” you lied,” Steve must’ve just forgotten to pack them when we moved, it all just happened so quickly, you know,” you said, smiling a little up at him, hoping he would back off at the reference to that night. “Anyway, I prefer these sandals. Bloated feet and whatnot.”

Bucky leveled you with his narrowed stare for a few seconds longer, probably weighing your words with whatever he could read on your face.

“All right, but I’m getting you one of my jackets. It’s a chilly day and I don’t want to risk your health,” he said sternly and made a beeline for his own room.

You breathed a sigh of relief, belatedly realizing he could’ve cancelled the whole outing outright because of this. You were suddenly quite…happy he didn’t. You were excited to go out, you realized, eager almost. And nervous, so nervous the baby was getting increasingly restless within you, moving about in your belly as you waited for Bucky to return, staring at the elevator doors in front of you.

You almost didn’t hear Bucky return with the way your blood pumped in your ears, not until a leather jacket was gently draped over your shoulders, the smell of a spicy cologne and well worn leather wafting into your nose. Not unpleasant, you realized as you insinuated your arms into it and brought it around yourself.

“Sorry, this is the only thing I have that I think’ll fit around your…um, well everything,” Bucky said, hesitating as he gestured vaguely at your belly and you noticed the faintest of pink dusting his cheeks.

How thoughtful…

“Thanks,” you said, closing the zipper at the front of the jacket tightly over your belly. It was snug, but it did indeed fit. Your outfit couldn’t have been more uncoordinated if you tried, with your woolen socks and strappy sandals, an ankle length satin dress and big, black leather jacket. But you didn’t care. You were going outside.

Adrenaline started pumping in your system the second the elevator pinged and the doors opened, and you again fought to keep up appearances and you stiffly moved into the little steel chamber to be taken down to ground level.

It’s perfectly normal to go outside, it’s perfectly normal to leave the house, there’s nothing to be afraid of, you kept repeating to yourself silently, avoiding looking in the direction of your chaperone.

You did well, you thought as you stared at the display above the door counting down the floor numbers until it only displayed a capitol “L” for lobby. Ground floor. Here we go.

Only, when the elevator doors opened, and there were several people waiting to ride it up, just standing outside, minding their business, not even looking at you…you couldn’t move.

Something was wrong, this was all wrong, you shouldn’t be doing this, you knew you shouldn’t.

In your peripheral vision, you noticed Bucky watching you, waiting for you to move ahead of him, observing even more of those things you were certain Steve wouldn’t want you to show him. The baby kicked your ribs.

“Come on, little lady,” Bucky murmured, and a warm, gentle hand on your back carefully nudged you forward. Under the guise of being heavily pregnant (which you were), you slowly moved forward, out of the elevator, not brave enough to meet the eyes of the people waiting, but murmuring thanks to them as they moved out of the way for you and Bucky.

Your breathing was choppy, and Bucky moved you to the side as soon as you were out of the way of the elevators. There was so much noise in the lobby, people milling about, music from somewhere, some children somewhere screaming with laughter, and through the opening doors all the way on the other side of the vast voajer, the deafening roar of city traffic filtered in.

Steve’s voice was suddenly loud in your head. You can’t make it out there, you’re too weak, too frail, they’ll swallow you whole, the voice whispered with finality, growing in volume, warping into a static roar. The laughter of the children turned to screams, the crowds noise became a deafening tsunami of sound, the blaring horns from cars hurting your ears as you squeezed your eyes shut and -

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise like a knife, bringing you back to your body with a pair of strong, warm hands on your shoulders, like anchors on your mind. “You’re okay,” he said, bowing his head to capture your gaze with his own.

You stared into his eyes, realizing you were about to spiral into your second panic attack that day, and that he’d calmed you down for the second time as well.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice low and comforting, not drawing any attention to the two of you from the other people in the lobby.

“I’m, -” you rasped, realizing you were on the verge of hyperventilating, “I’m too weak,” you whimpered.

“Too weak for what? You look pale, is it the baby? Do you need to sit down?” Bucky asked, looking you over while keeping you from wobbling.

No, it wasn’t the baby, it was never the baby. It was you, you were too weak.

“No, the baby is fine, the baby is strong. It’s me, I’m too weak to make it out there on my own,” you nearly whined, eyeing the doors to the outside warily.

“What do you mean? You’re not alone. I’m here with you. And besides, you are strong, I felt it earlier,” Bucky said. You could tell he was sort of confused as to why he needed to give you a pep talk just to leave the lobby, but here he was. He put a hand on your belly, and the warmth of his palm could be felt through the layers of clothing, even through the leather of his jacket. The touch grounded you even more, sharpening your focus. You looked into his deep, earnest blue eyes. “You’re protecting the little one, right? You are his or her momma bear, and he or she gives you the strength and courage to do it, right?”

You stilled at those words, felt them absorb into you, felt them settle neatly somewhere deep inside you.

That’s…right. That’s it. Your baby gave you strength, unnatural amounts of strength, and you needed to protect your baby. Only you could protect your baby, you could feel it, deep down in the marrow of your bones, a deep-rooted unwavering certainty that could only be some instinctual thing inherited from all the mothers that came before you. How had you not noticed that before? How did Bucky manage to find the words that somehow unlocked that knowledge? Or maybe it’d been there the whole time…

Like a fog, the panic and anxiety lifted slightly from your hazy mind, and you laughed. Suddenly, a bit shakily, and incredibly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping at a few tears that escaped your eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were on the verge of tears.

Bucky smiled warmly.

“No need. I can’t imagine what all those hormones are putting you through, but if looks rough, I gotta tell you that. Now, how about we get on with the mission, if you’re still up for it?” he said, taking his hand off your belly and squeezing your shoulders reassuringly once before retreating them both from your form.

You nodded.

Your baby gives you strength, you protect your baby, you repeated in your head again and again as you followed Bucky to the doors. Though not a miracle cure, you found yourself steadily moving out the doors, into the streets, down the sidewalk, across to the next street and then on.

It was like watching yourself from outside your body. Here you were, just six weeks shy of your due date, walking the streets of New York city like a normal person. You kept expecting the world to explode, but it didn’t. You kept expecting the people meeting you on the street to brandish clubs or knives or needles to hurt you with, but they all pretty much ignored you.

Suddenly, Bucky had finished his errand and you found yourself waddling around Central Park with Bucky, breathing in the fresh air, listening intently for the bird song. You kept on the lookout for rose bushes to smell, but found the worm leather of your jacket made a surprisingly nice replacement. A child gave you a grin that lacked a front tooth and excitedly pointed at your belly before her mother pulled her away, scolding her for being rude. You couldn’t help waving at her and smiling as she was dragged away, looking back to find Bucky watching you, his eyes gentle, but guarded. He’d kept a close eye on you ever since leaving the apartment building, but strangely, you found yourself pushing the worries for what he might be thinking far away.

You hadn’t felt this calm in days. The breeze was gentle and cooling on the exposed skin of your face, your leg muscles thrummed pleasantly from how long you’d walked and the open sky above you made you feel like you could finally breathe properly again. You suspected Bucky might be part of why you felt so safe to just enjoy these sensations right now, but his words from earlier hadn’t stopped shining like a lighthouse in the back of your mind.

The baby gave you strength, and you would use that strength to protect your baby…and yourself. You had come to realize you’d already done that in the past. When that man had grabbed you from the closet in the mansion, you hadn’t freezed and cowered and yielded to whatever violence he’d dish out. You had defended yourself. You’d used the strength the baby gave you and protected you both. How had you not seen that as a reason for confidence before now?

Who knew how long those words could keep your anxiety at bay. For now, you made the most of this uncommon calm and said virtually nothing to Bucky for the rest of the walk before he took you back to the apartment complex.

The minute the elevator doors closed and locked behind you, and you reluctantly gave Bucky his leather jacket back, the threatening gloom of fear began to sink over you. You raised your chin, repeated your new found mantra to yourself and reflected on a new found experience you hadn’t believed possible. You had just been out almost all day in New York city, one of the busiest and most dangerous cities on the planet, and nothing had gone wrong. Fretful hope bloomed inside you. Maybe, just maybe things could work out for you. Maybe you didn’t have to be so scared shitless all the time. Hadn’t you lived and managed on your own before? In another life, all that time ago? Hadn’t that been you on your own for years before Steve entered your life?

You wobbled over to the couch, sighing deeply as you finally got your weight off your feet. Amazing as it was to feel the ache in your legs from muscles well spent walking, you could already feel all the aches in your body that Steve usually kept at bay with his massages, start to grow - beginning in your feet and lower back.

Steve…

Just the thought of him had you aching in an entirely different way. God, you missed his hands on your skin, how he fired up this all-consuming need in you, made you desperate for him. You were wound embarrassingly tight already, backed up in a way that was hard to ignore.

Before you could fall further into that line of thought, Bucky entered the living room. One look at him had your pleasant mood shifting.

“We need to talk,” he said.

[priincebutt]

Better late than never, eh?? I haven't really written anything post-worthy in the past few days, so I'm coming at you with a lil snip from the last chapter of my WIP long fic, The Story of Us. I'm hoping to get back to writing this bad boy this week, maybe next, and I am excited to dive back into it. Thank you for the tags @piratefalls , @onthewaytosomewhere , @thesleepyskipper , @ninzied , @sparklepocalypse

@softboynick , @heysweetheart-writes , @indestructibleheart , @tailsbeth-writes , @suseagull04

@blueeyedgrlwrites , @stellarm !! I appreciate all of you all keeping up with me and tagging me <3 Enjoy this lil snip!

Alex comes with Henry’s name ripped from his lips, fingers digging into the pale skin of Henry’s powerful thighs, and they both collapse into each other, sticky and sweaty with lips leaking laughter as they wrap up together and match their breathing, coming down and back to themselves. Alex lifts his head to look at the clock on the bedside table and startles, reaching for his phone to confirm that it’s almost 6 PM and their reservation is in thirty minutes. So their laughter is the soundtrack as the hurry into dress pants, and each button that’s popped through a hole of Alex’s white with black gridwork oxford earns him a peck of a kiss. Henry’s just slid into the softest cashmere sweater Alex has ever felt, a deep v exposing the peaks of his collarbones and a golden chain clasped around his neck. He’s gorgeous in his simplicity, from the understated blushing pink of his sweater to the black wide legged trousers, hair still tousled from their romp, lips kiss-swollen and full. God, Alex is so in love, and it hits him like a punch to the gut as he watches Henry inspect his reflection, ruffles his hair and sighs as he gives up on creating any semblance of sanity with it. “I think you’ve given me a hickey – what?” Henry stops as he turns and finds Alex staring at him, and Alex knows the look on his face is one of absolute adoration – he feels it in the crook of his lips, the way he can’t school his features into anything but goofy heart eyes at his boyfriend. “In your own words… ‘you’re so gorgeous,’” Alex chortles as he sings the lyrics, and sways his hips a little bit, hands coming up as he dances like the uncultured man he is.

Going to tag @thinkof-england , @hgejfmw-hgejhsf , @forever-fixating and anyone else who may want an open tag!! It's late so I'm not going to dive into a super long tag list I don't think <3

[thenewobjective]

Various Artists ~ Tension/Release 2

This month marks the five-year anniversary of Portland, OR’s Errorgrid Records, and to celebrate the occasion, they have teamed up with Heterodox Records to produce Tension/Release 2, a sequel to 2021’s Gridworks 1: Tension/Release.  Some of the artists are the same while others are new, but the imprint’s raw industrial timbre remains. The theme is “the coexistence of polar opposites and the…

[toychest321]

HYDE UPDATE - 3 / 4 / 2025

- I've discovered the name of the fifth character is Naomi, and updated her section accordingly on my original post

- An evidence board featuring

• Zayn's family photo (now with his mother's face taped back on)

• A newspaper reading

"BRUTALLY ATTACKED TECH MOGUL"

with the name Azriel De Haaze underlined, and letters "RU" circled

• And Mei Pearl's invitation for the debut of her S/S collection on February 21st at 1:00pm, with an rsvp email at rsvp@meipearl.eh.

- Both posts featuring this board have the caption:

"A dead father and an M.I.A mother? What an original backstory for our rising fashion stylist 👀 It looks like someone is digging into the De Haaze's past, but why...?"

- Three images of a couch were posted to the same account. Brooke and William are laying down, while Zayn stands behind them.

- In front of the couch is a glass coffee table, showing:

• A full view of the newspaper from the evidence board, now revealing the full headline:

"BRUTALLY ATTACKED TECH MOGUL: What Happened to Azriel De Haaze?"

This time only the letter "R" is circled

• A hardcover copy of The Ship of Thesus

• And two coffee cups, likely belonging to William and Brooke respectively, with William's having a note with a logo on the front of the letter A

- The captions for the left and right images read:

"What a sweet moment -- for once, those three aren't arguing or trying to tear each other's throats out."

While the caption for the middle:

"The atmosphere will rapidly change if you learn to read between the lines... pay attention to every detail."

- A shot from a nearby security camera reveals that Zayn is hiding a gun behind the couch, but for whom we cannot tell

- The caption reads:

"We knew Zayn was loaded, but not this loaded... has Ezra D. Ashe chosen the right agent to complete the squad?"

- The most recent image posted is of Zayn posing in front of a variety of monitors, depicting:

• A masculine figure, possibly his father, lying dead on the ground with a tablet in his hand and what looks like scribbles beneath

• A computer chip with similar scribbles beside it on the screen, possibly the same chip he wears around his neck

• A gridwork layout of a city's parameters

- Zayn does his pose on top of a stack of books, three of which have the titles:

• Inspiration

• The Ship Of Thesus (implying the book on the coffee table was not only his, but carries deep personal significance)

• Advanced Pattern Making

Please Donate

[quillheel]

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while." (Harry to Kim)

They’d been standing outside of the Martinaise bookstore ( Crime, Romance, and Biographies of Famous People ) for upwards of 20 minutes by now, not entering, not perusing, the time occupied exclusively with the Detective’s staring; eyes clouded the way they become when something occupies him, the edging-on-vacant look he sometimes acquires when he looks up into the cold sky and murmurs under his breath. Locations. Distances. A gridwork of nerves under the city streets; or rather what they were built atop; that despite the efforts of the shivering, terrible absence of memory in his brain persisted in reaching him. Useless information heralded as jewels. The names of streets. Seeing from another angle.

For the last 5 of those 20, Kim was beginning to worry on if Harry had suffered some kind of stroke, perhaps caught between the conscious and unconsciousness, the way fainting seemed to be becoming a habit for him ( or at least, so he’d learnt. ) and his body simply hadn’t fallen, knees locked, keeping him stable. There’d been the temptation to gently nudge his shoulder, a tap to see the structural integrity under that disco blazer, on those snakeskin boots, but he answers before he fully settles into it & the consequences it may harbor; the words soft and raw like fruit fuzz left to rot, quiet on the wind, and all the Lieutenant can do is nod sagely, peering over at whatever it’d been to occupy him so thoroughly. Nothing interesting to Kim, maybe, but all encompassing to the other. Some days, Kitsuragi considers spending entirely on dissecting- ━ no. not dissection. he would not to kill it. ━ considers spending entirely on understanding what it is that goes on inside his head. Part of him whispers that to do so would be to ruin the magic.

Another part of him offers the refute of ‘I wouldn’t know’ in answering Harry, but he decides against that, too. It was too critical, too good at shutting things down. I wouldn’t know is to say I don’t know and I have nothing to say so can we please move on? ━ at least sometimes, it was, to him. Too vulnerable. Too much. Too little.

Kim adjusts his glasses, removing them. " I suppose that is true, Detective. " he relents, almost, but curious eyes give way to his unprovoking answer; an unspoken question of continue?; as the Lieutenant adds on, offering more as he cleans the lenses of the water built up from snow with a handkerchief. " Something about the eternity of a love that can persist past everything, even death, is an appealing thought to many people… " ━━ he tries not to study Harry as he says that. as if anticipating, as if proving himself correct.

[metaphysicalpistolsoraclemine]

Situational Update.

As strange as it sounds, it's like we are in the Art of War.

(Sun Tzu )

We have major events that happen to the planet, like a massive opening or major change in the Planetary Grid Networks, and then we have a bunch of entities from different factions with different agendas, these groups are jockeying for position to try to steal it or access it or get in through it , (Solar portal) and we don't know, at the least from the current standpoint, what the result of that jockeying for position will be.

Right now we're in a bit of a holding pattern in the larger collective fields, because what I'm really getting is that because of what's happening since mid July, something is being grandly orchestrated into an initiation right now. We have a massive conflict happening right now on the earth, in the area of Giza in Egypt is the fourth dimensional Stargate and is the Solar gate.

What happens there, has a lot of determination in terms of the future timelines and who controls them, which is what is happening right now. May, June and July has been extremely important period in the shift into a new timelines, which decides different vibrational choices for the direction of human beings as a group in the Solar fields.

As a part of the Guardian family, we're standing around in a holding pattern, waiting to see who's going to choose what and then with that information, we can move into another direction as our strategy.

Because this event will create a change in the way our missions are oriented toward Service to Others, in the most efficient way that supports the larger whole of humanity.

I'm sure you have figured out at this point, starseeds & Indigos, it's not about us, what we think it is going to be from our egoic perspective, right?

We're attempting to bring God's natural laws, the Law of One, its frequency and the consciousness back to the human being, back to the planet earth.

Meanwhile we have a lot of very strange types of events going on.

There are levels of consciousness that are interacting with human beings, that are influencing the direction of humanity without humanity knowing it's going on, that's why this phase of transition is so tricky and so weird.

There are negative beings that are literally orchestrating Mind Control and trying to create events from off planet, or in the antiparticle fields, to get human beings to act in a certain way on the earth, which is very diabolical.

So how far will they succeed, or will they not succeed?

We don't know at this time, because ultimately the choice is from the human beings colective level of perception.

But most human beings at this point have no idea what thought is theirs or what action is theirs, or who is impulsing them or not pulsing them.

And one thing I'm very clear of right now is that there is a massive level of force that's best described as, and not to be dramatic but it is an Antichrist force that is working it's position into greater control over the human race.

This is a massive level of dead light and it is a force of energy that is being animated into some kind of intelligence, which means they want to use it to wreak havoc with chaotic forces.

Either to create a milestone in the field that is a trigger event, something like a 911 or a war with Iran...? or something that is very huge that destabilizes the population. When humanity looks back at 911, most everyone is aware that something massive changed on the earth then, It was a global event.

*It's not about fear.

It's about understanding what a precarious situation we are in right now at the end of the Ascension Cycle. And that ultimately what we are doing as beings that have committed to be of service to this process of liberating and supporting Ascension, which also means the Starseedsand Indigo beings that volunteered to be here during the conflict, is to have a clear way out of here.

Because that's another piece of it.

Beings like you and I are the ones that are awake to understand somewhat, who we are and what were doing here on planet earth.

But there are a lot of Indigos on this planet that still don't know who they are and what they're doing here. So a part of our promise to those races is we're not leaving here, without you. We are going to make sure that we find you, that we get you and that we are able to communicate with you in some way to help you in the process of Ascension, or making choices from an informed level.

[architeuthis3]

today in studio working on oil painting, one lifetime. starting the luminous gridwork around the central figure in the lower portion. Adam Sturch

[dustedmagazine]

Paul Paccione and Apartment House — Distant Musics (Another Timbre)

Is Apartment House too prolific? As Another Timbre’s house band, they’re on about 40 releases. Do we really need another record of theirs, especially one focused on a lesser known composer? It seems like a fair question. And yet Distant Musics is a welcome addition to the catalog. Across five pieces the ensemble plays in a variety of configurations and introduces listeners to Paul Paccione’s music. He’s a composer and educator who taught between 1981-2018 and has been composing for over 40 years. But his discography has been sparse, making Distant Musics a good introduction.

Musically, Paccione is deeply influenced by minimalist composers like Morton Feldman and John Cage’s Number Pieces. His music is dominated by long notes played on stringed instruments and his pieces slowly unfold over five to ten minutes, if not longer. “Exit Music” opens this record with a string trio playing slow droning passages that surround the listener, pulling them along in a slow drift as the textures overlap and shift. It’s similar to the feeling Kali Malone evokes in her organ dirges and the way they envelope you in a warm space of sound.

Meanwhile “Gridwork” adds a wrinkle by introducing clarinet and piano into the mix. It starts with small plinks of piano as the strings create an eerie background texture. Heather Roche’s clarinet has a thin, wiry tone that feels like it’s a piano string pulled tight. Soon, sounds start to mesh and move around between short pauses, giving this one a lattice-like feeling of intersecting lines or a sliding tile puzzle.

“Distant Music” has a similar instrumentation - two clarinets, a violin, a viola, and a cello - and instead of the short phrases, this one is built around overlapping lines: as soon as one instrument takes a pause, two more spring up in its place. At times it’s like watching waves crashing on the shore, one after another.   

Key to this record is “Violin.” Both the longest piece here and the only one written for only one kind of instrument (four violins) this one goes deepest into his influences. Between its tense, thin opening and the way the violins overlap, it builds tension by both stretching the notes as far as they can go and emphasizing the slight dissonance between the four players. The music creaks and groans, droning like a set of bagpipes, and settles into an unsettling, otherworldly ambience.

As noted above, Paccione wears his influences on his sleeve, so one should approach Distant Music with that in mind. There’s no bombast or marches here, just five pieces of slow, sometimes atonal music. Those who’ve been keeping up with Apartment House will find this one compares well to their Number Pieces or Naiads records. So yeah, we did need another Apartment House record.

Roz Milner

[divine-nonchalance]

∞

The 9D Arcturian Council, Channeled by Daniel Scranton

“Greetings. We are the Arcturian Council. We are pleased to connect with all of you.

We are very big fans of all of you there on Earth because you chose the harder path. You chose to take on more challenges, more baggage from your past life selves and your genetic line, and we know that you did so because you felt at the time you were up to the challenge. We also know that once most of you began living your lives there in this current era on Earth, you discovered that the challenges were excruciating at times, unbearable to say the least. And yet, you kept going, you kept coming to Earth, a place where no one is trapped. 

No one is forced to incarnate anywhere because of karma. You incarnate where you want to incarnate, when you want to incarnate in that particular place and time, because you are sovereign beings, because you are Source, and you do get to choose whether to continue a series of lifetimes in a particular location. Those of you who have chosen a series of lifetimes there on planet Earth have done so with a great degree of courage and an enormous belief in yourselves and also in your guides and other helpers.

So the plan never was to do it all on your own, and in many ways you are not by yourselves there on Earth, even if it feels like you are at times. Everyone who is consistently receiving these messages from us is linked in a very real way. You are anchoring in Arcturian energies, and you are grounding them into Mother Earth. They are creating an Arcturian grid, and you are in psychic, telepathic communication with one another through these gridlines that you are creating. 

You are our ground crew there on planet Earth, and we need you in order to deliver the help, the guidance, the wisdom that we want to impart on all of humanity. But not everyone, as you know, is ready for what we have to give, and that’s where you all come in as the Arcturian ground crew. You are the gridworkers who make these energies available to others, who would otherwise be closed off to them, who would laugh at you if you were to send them one of these messages because you think it might resonate or help them in some way. And we know that many of you have done this and received those replies from the ones you’ve been seeking to help in your lives. 

But know this – you get to everyone with what you are holding in your consciousness, your awareness, your beliefs, and with the open hearts that you have. We consistently tell you that love is the answer, that compassion is the way, and that inner peace leads to getting everything that you want, and you walk around emanating all of those truths, even if you don’t speak them aloud to the person who is ringing up your groceries at the grocery store. They’re all benefitting from what you are grounding in from us, and we are so appreciative of each and every one of you there on Earth, but especially those of you who are helping to further the Arcturian agenda, which is of course to help humanity awaken and ascend.

We are the Arcturian Council, and we have enjoyed connecting with you.”

[drtesfito]

Multidimensional GRIDWORK ✨ Advanced foundations

[unconditionalcaretaker]

Me: I've never been manic or psychotic until this past year!

My high school self writing about walking through a Best Buy on a perfectly ordinary afternoon:

"I could have cried for joy, and I felt that something was going to happen, though I did not know what. We entered the store, and it was a gridwork of magic, everything glowing and the voices echoing against the dizzying ceiling. Lights raced down the sleek bodies of sleek machines and met each other at the corners where they burned like starlight and then went out together as I passed. I kept seeing [the character I was obsessed with at the time] in different people, not him himself, but a resemblance, distant, but very real. Then I turned a corner and saw, in perfect detail, so strong that I could not look away, the face of [character]'s father. And then I was swept away."