#validation on your backwards thinking. god

[bandtrees]

“Sasha.” He murmurs into her mouth. “Yes.” She confirms. It’s me — I know — Me too — You’re welcome — like a cold reader. The kind of con he would have laughed out of the Institute. But his head’s worn down, his heart even moreso. He’s tired of thinking. —— John has one assistant he still trusts.

woe, spooky little john(not!)sasha thing i wrote be upon ye

[versethetic]

your mind creates reality

visualizing. affirming. deciding. claiming. knowing.

using any of these is utilizing imagination and proving to yourself you instantly have your desire. it’s not a time-linear 8 step process.

the second you say “i have my desire” in your mind whether you believe it or not, whether you physically feel emotions or not, is the second you’ve eliminated all barriers that say you don’t have it.

your mind is where reality is created. it is the beginning and end of manifestation. imagine you have your desire. congrats, because your mind is your reality, you now live in the reality of you with your desire. it’s all yours, stick with this reality because why wouldn’t you? it’s the reality you claimed you wanted. now you have it. to go back to any other reality (aka to think anything other than you having your desire) is literally crazy like…

notice: the 3d or physical reality has not been mentioned once.

why?

ITS NOT THE PROOF!

ITS NOT THE CONFIRMATION!!

ITS NOT WHAT DICTATES REALITY!!!

YOU ARE!!!!!

the 3d is the reflection and i know you see this all the time but think about what this means for you.

it’s changing. it’s not going to stay the same because the law literally doesn’t work like that.

i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. you are a master manifestor and a master shifter by default. refuse to give in to your five senses if they aren’t showing you what reality you are choosing to think from.

and for the love of god. do not sit here thinking from a reality where you have what you want, claiming that it’s officially done and you’ve got it, wake up the next day and then completely turn blind to what you just played up in imagination, ALLLL in favor of the 3d. that’s backwards.

when thinking from your desire, the outer world shouldn’t even be a factor. not because it’s separated from the inner world but because it’s not where you’re validation comes from, it’s not what dictates whether you manifested what you wanted or not. it just reflects. that’s all it does. it literally just sits there and parrots what’s in your mind. it just doesn’t matter in regards to what’s in imagination.

your mind is all you need. so imagine it, know for a fact it’s now actualized and set in stone, and revel in how instantaneously you just manifested or shifted.

[apomaro-mellow]

Corroded Coffin ransoms Steve 3

Part 2

They left Steve alone again, this time making sure he was tied up to the chair tight before leaving him in the basement. They conferenced in the living room again. By now, the sky was beginning to get dark. Winter in Hawkins could be such a bummer.

"So his parents won't be back in town a while. They'd still call to check on him, though, right?", Doug asked.

"He's right", Jeff said. "We can sneak back into his house, change the voicemail to our demands. The moment they call, they'll get it and we get our money."

Eddie rubbed his face. "Somethin' tells me it won't be that easy, gents."

"One of your famous 'feelings'?", Gareth rolled his eyes.

"Who leaves their golden child during the holidays? And when was the last time you actually saw either of his parents?", Eddie asked.

Living in a small town, you saw everybody at least once a week. Either at the grocery store, the gas station, at Benny's. It was hard to avoid people in this town unless they were a literal shut in.

"My mom had some things to say about her from that lady's luncheon the church threw", Jeff said.

"Dude, that was back in April", Gareth said, suddenly shooting to his feet. "Shit! What if he's really worthless?! We just kidnapped Harrington for nothing!"

"We let him go?", Doug suggested.

"So he can go and tell his jock friends what we did? They'll literally murder us!", Gareth shouted.

Eddie stood up and began pacing about as the others argued, all making valid points. They couldn't just let Steve go. Not only were they still penniless, Steve would probably go straight to the cops, or worse the basketball team. Getting arrested was a hundred times better than murdered by mob. It felt like they had nowhere to go.

"Shut up! Just shut the hell up!", Eddie shouted, bringing them all to silence. He took a deep breath. "Harrington said he can get us the money. I say we let him try."

"The moment we let him go, he's gonna make a run for it!", Gareth threw his hands up.

"Then we put a leash on him!", Eddie's hands also went into the air.

"If we don't do this right, we're all going to jail. Or worse", Jeff said.

Eddie opened his mouth only to freeze when he had an epiphany. Yes....yeah a way to kill two birds with one stone. He started mumbling to himself, pacing about the living room again before clapping his hands together.

"I got it!"

-----------------------

Steve could hear them shouting above, but couldn't make out every word. Not like he needed to anyway, he could figure out what they were talking about. It had to be him. Maybe it finally sunk in that they couldn't get a ransom from his parents and they were brainstorming a new plan. He hoped in involved letting him go.

His stomach growled.

Or letting him eat. God, it must've been hours since they grabbed him.

He heard it get quiet upstairs and that made the gurgling in his stomach even louder. Then there were footsteps coming down the stairs. This time it was just Munson. He pulled up a chair and turned it backwards before sitting across from Steve, crossing his arms over the back of it.

"You said you can get us five Gs."

"Yeah? Yeah, I can do that", Steve said.

"Elaborate, Harrington."

"My folks keep a lot of expensive stuff. And believe it or not, they let me have a key to the house", Steve grinned cheekily.

"And you'd let us just, what? Ransack your house?"

Steve shrugged. "It's not my stuff. Why should I care?"

Eddie snorted. "And you wouldn't even think of calling the police and telling them exactly who took all that valuable stuff."

"You don't trust me?"

"I don't KNOW you. But I got a way you can win some points with us."

"...What?"

"You've got all the leverage right now, Harrington. But if you commit a crime, then we'd have something on you. And, we'd know you could pull off this little heist."

Steve opened his mouth only to be interrupted by his stomach again. Eddie raised a brow. "Coach got you on a diet or something?"

"You guys kidnapped me hours ago, asshole. You don't expect me to rob a bank on an empty stomach, right?"

"Not a bank, Stevie", Eddie smirked.

------------------------

"Were the dumbbells really necessary?", Steve asked.

"We could always get you a collar and leash", Eddie said.

Before untying him completely, they had used rope to tie two fifty pound weights to his ankles. Getting up the basement stairs had been a trial. He'd been tossed a box of cereal as Eddie explained the plan, the others glaring at him the whole time.

Steve knew why they disliked him. It didn't make it any better though. After he agreed to the plan, Steve was corralled into the van, still tied to the weights. The five of them drove through town until they got to the convenience store. It was just past five pm, but with the cold and darkness, most people were holed up in their houses by now.

"You ready for this, Harrington?", Jeff asked.

"As soon as you get these weights off, yeah."

"Are we really sure about this?", Gareth asked. He hadn't stopped giving Steve the stink eye this whole time.

"Don't got much of a choice", Eddie sighed from behind the wheel. He got out and released Steve from the weights. "If my boys get any inkling about you running, Jeff'll hit you with the van again."

Steve didn't need a reminder for how that felt, but played it off, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, let's just do this already."

Part 4

Taglist

@tinyplanet95 @dammitjim02 @chaotic-waffle @missarte-beltane @im-sam-fucking-winchester @persnicketysquares @estrellami-1 @spookycollectorcandies @chocolateraccoonlights @exasperatedsighohmy

[sukukuna]

スククナ EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SORCERER (UNPAID)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

premise; Shoko is done with being the only one who has to constantly handle everyone else's trauma and curse induced breakdowns. So when you casually mention you're pretty good at giving advice, she immediately recommends you to the higher ups as the new, unofficial therapist.

authors note; thank you for the support in the first chapter :) my requests are open if anyone wants me to write any specific characters for this series- i’ll also expand on my short satoru one dwdw

1.6k

CASE NO.2 SUGURU GETO

The moment you saw Geto Suguru slotted on the 'appointments list' that Shoko had hand written for you, you nearly physcially recoiled in dread, and something else you refused to name.

You're fine. You're used to difficult clients- like Gojo. You're a somewhat professional at this point. This is just another hour of emotional therapy with a sorcerer who will treat the session like a game of dodgeball. Except the game is therapy, and you're the ball.

Suguru sat across from you, arms loosely crossed, wearing the expression of someone who knew exactly what was wrong with everyone else around him, but absolutely nothing about himself - but if he did, he would never admit it.

There's nothing to worry about.

Except before the session you find yourself straightening the chairs a little too often, too carefully. Checking the clock too often. Wiping invisible dust off from your desk off your desk in fear that he'll actually notice. Your fear is valid. he notices everything.

"So," you started gently. "Let's talk about your feelings."

He blinked once.

Then again, Like you'd just asked him to recite the entire alphabet backwards.

"My feelings are perfectly rational," He said smoothly, straightening his posture. "Its the world that's...not."

That's not very helpful. Or comforting.

However you only nodded, having gained masses of patience after your previous therapy session with Gojo- Which had taught you that most of the sorcerers and Jujutsu High were ticking time bombs of their own contradictions.

Deep Breath. You're hardly a professional, but you can pretend you are. And you also can handle this single special grade sorcerer with a god complex. Maybe.

Its not like he'll start up a monologue about how societal problems have led him down a path of destruction-

"Society is the problem, not me."

Of course. You nodded politely, jotting notes down that read, "ABORT MISSION" over and over. You focus, and put on the best, calm therapist voice possible. "Tell me more about that."

He smiles. He does it with that polite, fake innocence that has your skin crawling, like a predator watching over its prey. You wince slightly.

He leaned forward, dangerously close. "I think we should talk about you."

You blinked. Once. Twice.

"This is about you. Not me."

He pondered for a second. "Hmm," and flicked his hair back over his shoulders. It looked so healthy. You honestly felt a bit jealous. He turned back to you with a sly grin, like he knew something you didn't. "Is it?"

He's exhausting in the way only someone terrifyingly intelligent and deeply stubborn can be. He knows exactly how to dance around your questions and project them back onto you, deflecting effortlessly. He knows exactly how to weaponize your sympathy, and exactly how to make you second guess your own job.

Well, your part time job.

You narrowed your eyes. "Stop trying to therapize me."

He smiles sweetly and replies, "How have you been feeling lately?"

He has this way of making you feel unprepared no matter how many notes you take. One minute you're asking him open-minded questions, and the next you're defending your previous life choices without knowing how you got there.

He's so smug. He's infuriating. And worse- he's interesting.

"Stop trying to therapize me, Suguru."

For a second, he looks caught off guard, and falters at the use of his first name. His smirk falters. His lazy amusement fades.

Suguru speaks quietly, "I'm not trying to therapize you."

You raise an eyebrow, He laughs once, hollow and sharp, like the inside of a broken bell. "Its just easier. Picking you apart rather than letting you pick me apart."

You blink. The confession isn't loud. It isn't grand. It's tossed out like it means nothing, like he's hoping you'll miss it.

But you don't.

You speak softly, like you're talking to a toddler or a small child, careful not to spook. "Why does it scare you so much? Letting someone see you?"

For the first time since you met him, Suguru doesn't have a comeback. He stares past you, something tight and ugly flickering in his eyes.

He mutters something hardly intelligible. "If someone looks too close, they'll realise there's nothing to save."

Oh. You didn't expect that.

You expected some snarky comment, or something. Anything but that. Your heart cracks a little, quietly, under the weight of his words.

He says it so casually, likes its an unchangeable fact- like the sky is blue, like water is wet, like Suguru Geto is already gone.

At least he was progressing, even if it was the most depressing thing you've heard all month?

You lean forward, voice steady, "You're wrong, you know."

He is, you truly believe. He lets out a soft, disbelieving huff.

"Am I?"

You nod.

"You're sitting here, you showed up, you stayed," His stare pierces through you but you don't relent with your words. His perfect posture and image continues to falter. "Even if you want to pretend this doesn't matter, part of you came here for a reason."

For a long moment, he says nothing. The silence is heavy and suffocating with all the things he's too proud, too scared, too tired to say.

He finally slouches lower into the chair, covering his face with one hand.

"God, you're annoying."

You smile a little. "Good. That means we're getting somewhere."

He peeks at you through his fingers, eyes shining with something close to amusement, and with something softer underneath, something soft. His eyes are shiny, slightly glossed over. You don't comment on it.

The silence after your last words stretches. Not heavy now, but thick. Thick like you're walking through fog.

Suguru shifts in his chair, suddenly looking about ten times more restless than usual. The easy, smug energy about him is, cracked.

Not broken. Just enough for you to see the real version of him squirming underneath. He clears his throat, unneseceraily loud. Drums his fingers on the plush of the (haunted- not the time) beanbag. He looks at anything and everything but you.

He speaks flatly, breaking the silence, "Well, congratulations. You got your emotional moment. Are you going to frame it and hang it on the wall?"

He taps once, twice on the wall of the cosy janitors closet, your makeshift therapy room.

You bite back a smile. You tilt your head, considering him.

"Tempting."

He scoffs, but it sounds weak, performative. He scratches at the back of his neck, the motion stiff and weirdly boyish. And then he snorts - almost a real laugh, and immediately schools his face into a mock glare, Like he's furious you made him feel any real human emotion.

"You're unbelievable."

You shrug, "So are you."

Another long silence. This ones different, and suddenly the air feels less tense, and more clean, unfiltered. He kicks his foot out lazily, so far you're worried he's going to slide right off the beanbag.

"Don't get used to it."

You smile, quiet and real, "Wouldn't dream of it."

You both sit there for a moment, the air between you a little lighter- still full of ghosts, sure, but now with room for something else. Maybe trust, or hope.

Or whatever Suguru will let you provide him with.

OBERSERVATIONS; attempted to redirect emotional vulnerability onto me (again??? ninja-speed deflection)

stop trying to therapize me - surprisingly effective!!!

i think i made him laugh???

SOLUTION; a hug?????

You're still staring blankly at your desk after Suguru left, half a cup of forgotten coffee cooling by your elbow when theres a knock at the door. You jump a little, still stuck in your thoughts, and mumble a quiet, distracted, "Come in."

The door swings open with zero subtlety. Satoru in all his sunglasses-wearing, overly casual glory.

Satoru grins, "Hey, doc. You got time for me?"

You sigh- not because you're annoyed, but because the whiplash you're receiving from the rapid switch between Suguru Geto to Satoru Gojo may give you actual whiplash.

"If its non urgent, it cant probably wait."

Gojo ignores your words and steps in anyway. "Oh no, see, its urgent to me, which is what really matters."

You're not sure it works like that, but you roll with it anyway.

He plops down in the beanbag that Suguru just vacated, sprawling like he owns the place. You wrinkle your nose. It still feels haunted, somehow. Too fresh. the beanbag growls intently.

Gojo tilts his head, piercing blue gaze sharp as a knife behind the shades. "Rough session?"

You blink at him, caught off guard. "You're not supposed to ask that."

Satoru grins, widely, "Just making an observation. You look like someone ran you over emotionally and backed up again just to make sure."

You snort despite yourself. He's infuriating- and worryingly accurate.

You shake your head, trying to refocus, but Satoru watches you a little too closely. His words come out softly, like a sneak attack, "Was it Suguru?"

You freeze for a fraction of a second, and thats all the conformation he needs. He leans back in the chair, Folding his arms behind his head. He smiles wistfully, "Yeah. he does that."

You stare at him, heart rattling weirdly in your chest. You forget sometimes that Satoru knows Suguru better than anyone. You also forget that behind the sunglasses and the ego, Satoru's also got his own set of ghosts.

"He's...complicated?"

Gojo huffs a laugh. "He always has been."

Satoru pushes himself up from the beanbag. "Anyway. I'll stop bugging you. Just thought you looked like...never mind."

He flashes you a thumbs up and heads for the door.

"Thanks, I think?"

taglist: @surethingmoto @l1f3isf00d

suguru ver requested by @meganbaby

[cultkinkcoven]

Let's say, if a person is really interested in researching Lucifer, what would be a perfect way to start? What topics to research, in which Gods to look into?

Also, let's say I am the person. I got really interested in Lucifer and His domains, but I don't feel connection with Him himself. I am really into understanding Him, though, in all His faces, angelic, infernal, greek, roman and any other possible way (also, because He is often connected to queer people and coming from conservative country and coming as queer person from there, I look for something to unlearn shame and being more comfortable with myself and others, I was hoping to find it in Him and/or Dionysos-Bacchus). I always got the feeling that to understand Him fully you need to had some kind of connection to Christianity, because I noticed that most of people turn to Him as for better option rather than christian God. I never had experience with Christianity, so I never felt any need to reject it to find something better. Thank you for your answer, you are great person and it feels awesome to read your blog.

Also, art? Holy shit that ones of the most beautiful things I saw. Keep it up. Your colours are pretty and pleasant to look at, anatomy is great and, as far as I can tell, you draw on phone/sensory tablet, not computer/laptop, and amount work you put in this is fascinating. You are great.

English is my second language, forgive any mistakes that were here.

I could literally yap about this all day but I'm going to try to stay pretty locked in and concise with this.

For the sake of simplicity and your own headache, I encourage you to think of Luciferian archetypes as masks that a deity may or may not be using based on context. I say this because 1. there are many different Lucifer, whether or not they are literally the exact same "guy" is unknowable, and you will give yourself a headache trying to concretely answer that question either way; and 2. because Lucifer approaches everyone differently. The Lucifer you interact with will depend highly on your beliefs, disciplines, and desires.

There are multiple ways wee can go about this, there is no perfect way. I would first employ you to ask yourself if:

You are looking to interact with a Lucifer that is aligned with Satan

You are looking to interact with a Lucifer that is pre or post biblical

The aspect of the Lucifer you're looking to interact with- Infernal, angelic, primordial, Venusian, phosphoric etc.

I'll break these down in order.

Is your Lucifer Satan? If yes, you're probably a theistic satanist and I would imagine that your Lucifer is largely based on the Christian archetype of Lucifer. Is this incorrect? Absolutely not, Lucifer most certainly does have a real archetype as the fallen angel described in Christianity. If you approach him with this understanding, you likely will get a response.

You will likely hear that Lucifer isn't actually the Christian devil, that his inclusion in the bible is a translational error. That is technically speaking, correct. The original intention of the biblical text was not in reference to an angel but rather the Babylonian king. HOWEVER,

Lucifer's mythos as a fallen angel, a ruler of hell, an adversary, as it had later gone on to largely influence Christianity is still very much valid in my opinion, and I very much believe that that Lucifer is alive.

If this is the Lucifer you're interested in, I'd recommend researching Lucifer Ha Satan, Lucifer the Dark Initiator, Lucifer the Adversary, Ruler of Thaumiel (if you're into the qliphoth), The anti-God, the Liberator (particularly from religious shackles.) This is in the realm of traditional satanism and inversion of religious authority and rituals. You'll see a lot of these rituals written backwards, end with "Nema" instead of "Amen". I myself am not a Satanist nor do I really worship Lucifer as the devil so I don't have that many book recs, but the works of Michael Ford explores the syncretism of Luciferian and Satanic ideology. I would also highly recommend "Lucifer A Devotional" by Kindra Ravenmoon, one of my favorite books I've ever bought even as a Luciferian. For mythos I highly highly highly cannot highly enough recommend reading "Paradise Lost" by John Milton.

If your Lucifer is not Satan, then move on to the next question, is your Lucifer pre or post biblical?

I would not say that one necessarily has to have any connection to Christianity to engage with Lucifer and Luciferianism. Lucifer’s inclusion in the Bible does not mean that the Bible is the first place we’ve ever seen the Lucifer archetype, you probably already know this.

Our most ancient understanding of a Lucifer archetype and energy is based on the Sumerian Inanna and Akkadian Ishtar. Inanna is the very first place we see a myth about the morning star rising to heaven and then falling to the underworld. Inanna was specifically a deity associated with transformation, resurrection, war, and rebellion hundreds of years before the bible or Abrahamic religion was conceived of. 

Attar (ʿAthtar) – Canaanite and South Arabian deity associated with the morning star. He was a warrior god of storms and fertility, often linked to both Baal (Hadad) and Ishtar/Inanna, and is considered an early influence on later depictions of the fallen Morning Star, Lucifer in Judeo-Christian tradition. Attar was the male counterpart of Astarte (Ishtar), the goddess of love, war, and Venus. He was often depicted as a failed usurper of the high god’s throne, much like the later Christian legend of Lucifer’s fall.

One of the most significant myths about Attar describes him attempting to take the throne of Baal after Baal’s death. Attar tries to rule from Mount Zaphon, the cosmic mountain of the gods. However, he is too weak to hold the throne. He is forced to descend and instead rules over the underworld and lower realms. This mirrors the later Biblical story of Lucifer, who:

Tries to exalt himself above God (Isaiah 14:12-15). Is cast down from heaven when he fails. The Isaiah 14 passage ("How you have fallen from heaven, O Day Star, son of the Dawn!") likely draws on the older Attar myth and blends it with Canaanite theology to critique the king of Babylon. Interpretations argue on whether Attar chose to leave, or was too inadequate to lead. Attar’s story predates and likely influenced later depictions of Lucifer:

Both are Morning Star figures who attempt to ascend but are cast down. Both are associated with kingship, rebellion, and failure. Both end up ruling lower realms instead of heaven.

Attar, as a Venusian deity, fits into the larger Near Eastern tradition of the Morning Star as an unstable, liminal figure—sometimes divine, sometimes fallen, always in flux. This ambiguity and transformation later shaped the mythos of Lucifer, who inherited Attar’s Venusian identity, failed kingship, and descent. One very important aspect of Attar and Ishtar’s descent is the concept of survival after exile. Both have a catastrophic fall from grace only to emerge stronger than before- a spiritual resurrection. To learn more about this aspect of Lucifer you're going to want to explore Canaanite mythology.

In Greek mythology, Phosphorus (or Eosphoros, "Dawn-Bringer") was the personification of the Morning Star (Venus). His counterpart, Hesperus (Ἕσπερος, "Evening Star"), represented the same celestial body when it appeared at dusk. The cult of Phosphorus was small and fringe, both Eosphoros and Hesperus are very seldom mentioned in any surviving Greek texts.

Hesperus (Ἕσπερος) however is said to be the father of the Hesperides. The Hesperides, the daughters of Hesperus were nymphs who tended the golden apples of immortality in a garden at the western edge of the world- the direct opposite direction of Lucifer’s East. The golden apples guarded by the Hesperides mirror the Tree of Knowledge, with both representing divine wisdom that is forbidden yet desirable. The fruit was a gift from Gaia to Hera. The Hesperides were also guarded themselves by a 100 headed a serpent-like dragon named Ladon, who coiled around the tree, preventing mortals from stealing its golden fruit. In Christian mythology, the Garden of Eden also features a serpent entwined in a tree, tempting humanity with knowledge and self-awareness.

Phosphorus is highly syncretized with the Roman Lucifer, of course, and is distinctly different from a Satan archetype as the god of light bringing and enlightenment in a more literal way. Not demon nor angel, but a God himself, of transformation and resurrection. A sprit of the element of Air. The Gnostics interpret this idea in an interesting way, I highly recommend researching Gnostic Luciferianism for a blend between Christian ideas and older pagan concepts.

Prometheus is also a deeply Luciferian figure in Greek mythology.

To learn about the cult of Phosphorus and Luciferianism as it pertains to him in this aspect, I'd recommend reading "Lucifer Princeps" by Peter Grey, "The Order of Phosphorus" by Michael W. Ford, and the many works of the Temple of the Ascending Flame, and "Awakening Lucifer" by Asenath Mason & Bill Duvendack,

3. Aspect

I think this is the most important thing to consider. The aspect of Lucifer you invoke at any given time may change. You may wish to invoke a pre fall Helel/ Lucifer to bring pure heavenly light, in which case you would be referencing his angelic aspect, using his angelic enn: "Agios Es Lucifer Divum Et Vorsipelle"

If we want Lucifer the red dragon, the draconian fire, the phoenix, the serpent, the tempter, we may use his infernal enn: "Renich Tasa Uberaca Biasa Icar Lucifer

A more primordial or venusian Lucifer may blend into more Aphrodisian methods and manifestations.

Tldr. I recommend just pinpointing which face you're interested in and moving outwards from there. The ones that work work and the ones that don't don't.

Also THANK YOU SM aw omg I'm so happy you guys like my art :))

[utilitycaster]

different anon, but the "theist DNI" ask was hilarious to me because I am still reeling from the post and especially OP going "the gods aren't really gods (because they're not omnipotent but just really powerful)" in it and then in the replies doubling down on the standpoint of "gods aren't real" - apparently just over the bank, basically conflating real world and Exandria in one fell swoop with this Universal Truth(tm) - because of course they can't produce any analysis of worth. they refuse to engage with basic tenets of the setting that do not fit their particular worldview. it really time and again comes back to people being unable to engage with religious concepts beyond a very superficial and milque-toast "Christianity evil, actually"

Yeah, this is true for like...a lot of the people claiming Campaign 3 is Great and we are all Not Leftist nor Intellectual Enough nor Capable of Parsing Black and White Morality; they say that and then they make and reblog posts with messages like "well you see the Good Brown People who were Colonized will Always be radicalized solely in the name of their own liberation haha don't look at any historical events from the last century", and in the end I do think it is all mostly in the name of trying to support the conclusion that killing the gods is definitely the right answer, and trying to work backwards from there to make the text fit.

I really didn't address the point that their arguments about the gods not being "real gods" were absolutely nonsensical (pro-tip: in a media analysis you can't just reference other works of fiction nor, if any of these ignoramuses did, literary and/or political theory, without actually analyzing them and drawing comparisons in the service of a thesis; "gods in this work are different than the gods in Exandria" is not actually a meaningful statement given that it's like yes Runescape and Exandria are two entirely different settings, things are different) but as always, follow the thread and the implications and you'll find the problems: so if the problem is that the gods are powerful but not all powerful, or don't admit they're not all powerful...does that mean they're ok? If they had given Ashton and Imogen what they wanted, would that mean that killing the titans and Aeor was totally fine? Is your argument that the gods are a colonizing force because they are from outside of Exandria and because they (with the people of Exandria) killed the titans (but the people of Exandria are ok for doing this for reasons of [crickets]) or is your argument that they are a colonizing force bc they didn't kiss your blorbo so sweetly on the head and tell them everything they were doing was good and correct? Because this really is leaning towards the latter. It is, again, an individual grievance falsely claimed to be a system of oppression.

And that's really the key. We are looking at a party with a lot of valid personal traumas, but virtually nothing in the way of in-world systemic oppression, and I do not think it is a coincidence that this party has a unique appeal for a group of people who are overwhelmingly white, overwhelmingly from financially stable upbringings, overwhelmingly from wealthy Western countries, and overwhelmingly people who were raised Christian, left the religion, became some kind of dullard nihilist who labors under the misapprehension that this makes them leftist, and really, really fucking hate being reminded that they are not, in fact, remotely close to being Christianity's greatest victims. It has a unique appeal for people who are obsessed with painting themselves as powerless to enact change - who, as I said in earlier tags and also like a billion posts dating back to at least early 2023, fetishize and glorify a lack of agency - because then haha you can't blame them! they can't do anything! I think they're REALLY mad, actually, that one of the most prominent critiques of Campaign 3 has become "this indecision and inaction and endless waffling is actually insufferable" because that drives a spike through the idea that you can evade judgment through doing nothing, despite this being like, one of the most basic ethical concepts. And again just as I don't think the CR cast is doing THAT message on purpose any more so than a (horrendously flawed to the point of failure) anticolonialism message, I just think that the mismatch of plot and character and the multitude of issues in the execution have unintentionally presented themselves in this manner.

Anyway yeah this inability to consider the idea that maybe Bells Hells have a wildly limited viewpoint and so do you is superficial, it's self-obsessed, and it's so goddamn banal.

[yermes]

For imposter syndrome 🫀

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Pick a meme

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Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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Socials: My Socials **☾**

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The cards

Virtue 🫀

Who care if you are not the smartest, the strongest, the most charismatic, you have a clear goal and a want and that better than any kind of god gifted talent. What I think is originally you were very confident till you had an experience which knocked you back to earth. And thats fine, you became overconfident and fell down to earth after you rose up trying to meet the sun. Happens to the best of us! Don’t let your concept of your own self hold you back, its admirable that you have big goals and I see you accomplishing them, however, you do need to pull your head out. Your goals will help shape you more as a human being. You are going to change throughout this process.

Ruin 🫁

Its a chaotic time in your life right now, an accomplishing anything without feeling any solid floor underneath you is difficult. But through hard things, we transform we go through cycles of death and rebirth daily. In order for something to be built back up it does have to be burned down. You do have to go backwards to go forwards and relearn some fundamentals. Through your hard time you will gain wisdom through pain and loss. Every challenge we ever face is setting us up for the next and you will not be ill-equipped to handle whats coming. You will have gone through so much theres no way you can’t get through to your goal.

Interference 🌷

Usually I would tell you to quiet the mind but you need to analyze your thoughts and thought patterns, all you are right now is thoughts and I want you to organize them and fill them out all the way through. You aren’t limiting yourself your reality, your limitations as to whats relative to you and your life is limiting you. Your mindset has you in a cage. I will say this time should be productive, aimless pondering on your goals sometimes doesn’t work. You may have to pick something and start running but you do have time to consider your options. Consider well and hard but be mindful of your pondering.

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Extras: 🐦‍⬛

Story/vent:

Srry if they’re spread out but academic validation calls to me dearly

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[heymickyursofine]

You Made Me Love You. Benny Weir X Fem!Mean!Reader

Summary: When Benny found out you loved him he was ecstatic, only thinking of the positives. He never thought of the negative consequences that would come with it. He never thought you’d hate him for it.

Warnings: Use of Y/N, Angstttttt (like a lot), mean reader but lowkey valid, crying.

“What?” Benny yelled at his Grandma and she almost had to cover her ears at his loud tone.

“Quiet down!” She hissed.

Benny was flabbergasted to say the least. YOU were in love with HIM? He couldn’t believe it, he’s not sure he fully did, but if his grandma was saying it then it had to be true.

“Oh my god. I-I have to go.” Benny stumbled on his feet backwards before turning around and running to the front door.

“We’ll talk about your punishment later!” Grandma shouted but doubted he heard it.

Benny’s feet took him all the way to Ethan’s house and he hurried up the stairs to the porch, skipping most of the steps, before pretty much banging on the door. “Ethan! Ethan, open up! I have major news!” Benny felt like his whole body was vibrating, he was ecstatic.

He was also out of breath, running all the way to Ethan’s did a number on him.

He saw a figure approaching the door and as it opened he realized it was Ethan’s mom, he would’ve been more confused as to why she was home so early in the day but he didn’t care right now. “Hi Mrs. Morgan, is Ethan home?”

How he got that whole sentence out without stuttering surprised him.

“Hi Benny, he’s upstairs in his room.”

“Great, thanks!” He pushed past her a bit rudely and ran up the stairs, skipping most of the steps and almost falling at one point before he caught himself and climbed the rest of the stairs with his hands which gave him extra speed.

He didn’t even knock on Ethan’s door, he grabbed the handle and forced it open, the knob hit the wall with a loud bang.

“Dude!” Ethan was in the middle of putting a shirt on, he fumbled with it. Benny pushed the door shut letting it slam.

“You are not going to believe this!”

“Oh no,” Ethan started to worry, “Your stupid potion worked?”

“No! No! It didn’t!”

“Then why are you so happy?” Ethan was extremely confused.

“Because she—oh my god I can’t even get it out I’m so happy—she’s already in love with me!”

“What?” Ethan yelled, though quieter than Benny did when he found out.

“That’s exactly what I said! Grandma told me that if the potion didn’t work that means she’s already in love with me!”

“Thank god.” Ethan let out a sigh of relief at the fact that you didn’t have a spell put on you. “I have to go ask her out, right?” Benny started to pace the room, his hands shaking slightly. “Oh god I’m so nervous.”

Ethan went over to him and placed his hands on Benny’s shoulders, “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You already know what her answer is going to be,” Ethan shrugged.

“Yeah. Yeah, you're right! Why am I worrying? I don’t know. She loves me, I’m going to be fine.”

“You are. But you have to tell her about the spell.”

Benny groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes! What if she were to find out and you weren’t the one to tell her?” Ethan asked, being much more rational than his friend. “How would she find out? We’re the only ones who know.” He gestured between himself and his best friend.

“Benny you have to! Listen to yourself! She has to know it’s not right if she doesn’t. You’re just going to ask her out and keep the fact that originally you were going to put a spell on her for her love? Act like it never happened?”

Benny bowed his head. “You’re right.” He hated telling Ethan that.

The next day he came to your house, yes the next day.

He was going to tell you the same day of his discovery but decided he needed to wait to collect his thoughts, think about how he was going to apologize.

“Hi, Benny!” He already felt weak in the knees at the pretty smile you sent him after you opened the door. “Hi, Y/N. Can we talk?”

Your smile faltered, now worried by his tone. “O-oh, yeah of course. Come on in.” You moved out of the door frame.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked him as you sat on your couch.

“I’m not sure how to say this,” He let out a sigh.

“Benny, you're scaring me.”

“I-um… gave you a love potion.” He spoke quietly but you heard him loud and clear.

“What?”

“I gave you a love potion.” He spoke louder.

“No—I heard you. Why would you do that?” You subconsciously scooted away from him.

A love potion.

Really?

“Why, Benny?” You were in disbelief.

“Because I wanted you to love me.”

“Benny,” You let out a scoff and stood up, “In no way ever is that a good enough reason. Why didn’t you just say something like a normal person and not put a stupid spell on me?”

“I know, I know, I just didn’t know how to say it and I didn’t think you would feel the same but I know you do.”

“And how would you know that? Hmm? Because your spell didn’t work.” Your tone was laced with malice.

He stood up and tried to grab your hands, you yanked them away.

“I know that because it didn’t work on you. Love potions don’t work if they are already in love with the person who created the spell.”

“I really wish you would’ve figured that out by asking me, Benny. Because right now I’m not so sure that love is there anymore.”

You were tearful. Not because you were sad (although you were at his actions) but because you were more mad than anything else. Mad that your friend felt like he had to go to an extreme measure to be with you.

“Don’t say that, please, Y/N.” He walked to where you stood on the other side of the room and you backed away. “Stay away from me, Benny. I don’t know how to feel right now.”

“This isn’t how I imagined this going,” He looked down.

“How did you expect it to go, Benny?! Did you think I would be a-okay with the fact that you essentially drugged me? I don’t know what you put the spell in—wait. My drink. The drink you gave me at lunch the other day! I thought it tasted weird! God, you are ridiculous. How could you do something like that to me? I thought we were friends. You had to have known this wouldn’t go well or you don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”

Benny wasn’t one to cry in front of you, only a couple of times which you oddly appreciated from him, but right now was one of those times, and you didn’t appreciate it.

You thought he had nothing to cry about, he wasn’t the one who got a spell put on him.

Maybe you were too harsh.

The spell hadn’t even worked, but what if it did?

“If you don’t have anything to say and you’re just going to stand here and cry you can leave. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

He nodded slightly. “I’m sorry.” He turned away and you rolled your eyes at his apology.

Benny could never do anything to make you mad at him, more so hate him, but he’d never done this before.

—

Words from Micky - Hiiii *awkwardly* so sorry for that, know you guys were probably expecting a happy Part 2 where they kiss or whatever but that didn’t happen this part clearly 😬. But!! Part 3 will be a happy ending and be written quicker, I’ve already got ideas flowin’. I really want to thank you guys for the love in Part 1, words can’t describe how happy I was/am whenever I see an interaction on it. I never thought the fic would be as popular as it is nor would I have thought my blog would gain that much recognition. Thank you all for the love I love you guys!! And thank you for accepting my bad stories that don’t come out well like I would have hoped, you guys mean a lot to me :’)

PART 1 (HERE) PART 3 (HERE)

FOLLOW MY WATTPAD: controversiallyoungf

[ilikekidsshows]

Sorry for jumpin your ask box like this. Marinette stans are... a pest to say the least and I wanna rant here because this seems to be like a save space. When I say it here my frustration can't cause trouble for me or anyone else.

I don't care anymore if people say I'm just a stupid salter who hates Marinette, I don't think this show will ever be able to undo the absolute fucking hypocrisy that is Marinette de-transforming and trusting an as good as defeated Gabriel like an absolute damn MORON

When 6 episodes earlier Adrien had to apologize in shame for 'having caused Marinette's disadvantage' against Lila in the class when HE literally still doesn't even know about what happened in the damn bathroom, but Marinette for damn sure KNOWS that Gabriel is an insane and sadistic abuser and terrorist!

And of course Marinette fans are bending over BACKWARDS to talk their way outta acknowledging any kinda truth one could be upset about. Saying that it's not the same cause Marinette is 14 (like Adrien and everyone else, too??!) and is, like, the purest and most wonderful but horrifically abused and misunderstood person who ever existed and that Gabriel not having taken Marinette's generous (empty) offer was totally just Gabriel betraying her pure and angelic heart that tried to do the right thing like the hero she is because 'she's so pure that she was able to see the good in him and wanted to give him another chance 😌'

When, what the hell?? Adrien was and IS being ripped to SHREDS for so much less cause of Chameleon! Just because Marinette couldn't ever confront Lila in a way that goes beyond "point finger and scream and then get upset when that doesn't work for 5 seasons straight"! There is NOTHING anyone can claim that makes the hypocrisy here make sense. Nothing. Didn't she just 'lovingly' patronize Adrien by saying that "sometimes the good we see in other people is only a reflection of our own goodness" and he had to act grateful that she's still able to love him despite his naivety and wrongness?? That was 6 episodes ago! Marinette, where did that energy go now that it's YOU?

Adrien had to 'learn his lesson' in shame and be reprimanded for a good moral advice he couldn't possibly know would backfire because he unknowingly said it about the show's most evil psychopath apparently

But Marinette can seemingly be the most gullible, hypocritical, and illogical moron on the planet, detransforming for no god damn reason in front of the not entirely disarmed and dying mass terrorist, abuser, and magical enslaver who's about to fail and loose everything he ever loved and fought for

But SURE, she totally didn't do Adrien's 'offense' from season 3 just 1000x WORSE, cause, didn't you know? It's ✨Marinette!✨

Her flaws don't matter. In fact, anyone who says she is capable of REAL flaws apparently just mindlessly hates her and strong female characters like her. She can do everything everyone else gets dragged to hell for cuz fuck everyone and everything I guess! Mademoiselle center of the universe might be sad if morality applies to her.

At least if they'd SAY IT that they are okay with pathetic double standards and hypocrisy, but no. Everyone is acting like they're on the moral high-horse by just ignoring everythin that doesn't make Marinette look like the greatest person ever, because it's ✨Marinette✨and we're just mean haters who "don't get it". I sure get that Marinette's fans' and especially STANS' words have lost as good as all validity in my eyes starting with the retooling season 4 because of how incapable of basic self-reflection they seem to be!

btw, I didn't talk to them in this tone. I just wanted to have a conversation with people who say that they think the Marinette and Adrien situations are different and I get nothin but unfiltered hypocrisy and excuses upon excuses! It's just "Adrien was WRONG because Marinette was RIGHT!" with "Marinette was RIGHT but Gabriel was such an awful person to HER that he unfairly punished her pure heart of justice™! 🥺"

Like, get the hell out man. How is any discours supposed to ever exist again after all this??

I apologize again for intruding, I needed to get this off my chest. I still wish you a great day and thanks for providing a place for group therapy 😅

---

Marinette stans love to claim that any consequences for her actions is Marinette being “punished”. They’ve been crying and throwing up about “Marinette getting punished for things that aren't her fault” ever since the original pre-retool series. Even when there's no character to point an accusing finger at, they claim that the writers are punishing her whenever she doesn't get away with something scot free or gets minorly inconvenienced by anything. The idea that Marinette having anything less than a perfect day with every character worshiping her is the same as her getting “punished” has been the basic toxic Marinette stan’s creed for years.

I'm also just going to be really mean: all of Marinette’s good traits that the stans repeat are wildly exaggerated from traits every non-villainous character has. Because, if we take their claims literally, I certainly don't see this “pure heart of justice” and “always helping others” the stans claim she does, because she's too busy moping about or chasing Adrien whenever she's on screen to have the time to help people as much as her stans claim she does. She sometimes helps her friends and family and she saves Akuma victims cause that's her job, but so much more of her life is taken up by worrying about herself.

She's also not strong, physically or mentally. She is not secretly jacked and she has never gotten out of a stressful situation victorious without someone else there to prop her up first. In terms of these things, Marinette is average, “just a normal girl with a normal life”. Marinette isn't weak exactly, but any other “good” member of the cast is the same. She’s not exceptional in these things, but the stans love to claim she’s the greatest, purest, goodest thing that was ever spawned into existence in the world of Miraculous. I know the phrase “strong female character” lost any meaning long ago, but it’s kinda laughable we’re at the point where explicit failures like the season 5 finale are being touted around as signs of strength.

I also agree that the Miraculous fandom just can't handle discourse anymore. Some time ago I saw a post that had someone wondering why there weren't many new analysis posts in the fandom post-season 5 and the reason for that is that the fandom doesn't have space for that kind of analytical thinking anymore. The analysts saw what SentiAdrien would do to the series and, when the fandom exploded into the expected abuse apologia, they left. In addition to that the series can no longer withstand any kind of analytical viewing so the remaining, highly defensive fandom is against questioning what they're watching. You can't enjoy this show if you employ any kind of critical thinking, because the morals the writers elevate are rancid.

Marinette stans have always been like this. I've never been harrassed by Chloé stans and I used to post some very spicy stuff about Chloé. Every time I've been harrassed in this fandom, it was done by Marinette stans. The more toxic Marinette stans have always been the worst part of this fandom and now that the writers are pandering to them, they're really bold about pushing everyone else around.

[jungwondazed]

hi my love!!! I'm so touched u were thinking of me 🥹 I feel like we both have such similar thoughts and opinions so it's so fun being your anon hehe

And to the jungwon porn preferences post goddddhdhfh corruption and public quickies 10000% he just exudes such an air of (valid) cockiness in the bedroom where any excuse to be a bit condescending and controlling he would absolutely milk. even if he's inexperienced he would be such a quick learner that you'd forget you're his first partner bc he just has a natural skill and talent.

On the same note, do u think he would be into any dacryphillia or somnophillia?? For dacryphillia I see it more being when his girl is crying from being overcome with emotion, rather than humiliation or degradation, but it tugs at his heartstrings bc ur just so cute and precious he just can't help the way his cock twitches at the sight of ur glossy eyes :(

- 🤍

i think dacryphillia and somnophillia is exactly what he'd be into. jungwon is one of the most genuine and caring guys any of us have probably ever seen, and i believe that genuine kindness manifests into his fantasies.

he walks by the room before taking a few steps backwards, catching you fast asleep on the bed after a long, tiring day. he stands still for a moment, smiling softly at how you deserve all the rest you can get. his thoughts start pure, noticing how beautiful you look even after a rough day, to how every hair on your head frames your face perfectly. when his eyes start raking down your body, observing the curves of your hips and thighs, to how your chest rises up and down, under nothing but a thin t-shirt, his thoughts turn a bit more twisted. he lets out a breath as if in disbelief and shakes his head, taken aback by how he started to sexualize you in your sleep. he walks away but only makes it a few steps before backtracking again, his body leaning on the door frame, debating a bit with himself before slowly making his way over to you.

seeing you cry from being so empathetic about something, tears streaming down your face, makes jungwon kind of stop in his tracks and think "god, this girl's heart really is made out of gold isn't it?" and although in a moment as wholesome as this, he cannot help but feel just a bit turned on... you're too precious for anyone's good, and all he wants to do is kiss you everywhere and worship your body, fuck you so good you forget about all the bad things in the world

[am0ralexis]

House Hunting (fluff) 🩷

“this one’s haunted.”

“You’re not even inside yet.”

“I can feel it, Lex.”

Alex groans. The kind that starts in his chest and comes out like he’s aged 40 years in 4 seconds. He’s still sitting in the driver’s seat, seatbelt dangling somewhere by his hip, watching you eye the front porch of the third house on today’s cursed little list like it personally wronged you.

You’ve got your head tilted, your arms crossed, and your entire face says absolutely not, even though the place technically has everything you said you wanted—good school district, big backyard, extra bedroom. And yet…

“The door’s crooked,” you say, pointing with your coffee. “Like look at that. Slanted. That’s the type of house where the lights flicker at night and a child ghost whispers your name at 3 a.m.”

Alex doesn’t even try to hide how hard he closes his eyes. “You cannot tell the realtor that again. Please. I’m begging you.”

“She has such warm eyes! I’m not gonna lie to her and say this place has good energy when it very clearly has murder energy.”

He presses his palms into his eyes. “We are never going to find a house if you keep rejecting them based on ghost vibes. Or the air being ‘too sharp.’ Or because the driveway ‘feels Republican.’”

“That one was valid,” you say immediately, walking around to his side of the car now. “That mailbox gave off Blue Lives Matter energy and I will not be raising our children next to a guy who has a flag that says ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ but also drives a lifted Ford.”

Alex gets out of the car finally and leans against the door, looking at the house with an expression that says he might pass away from financial stress right here in this suburban cul-de-sac. “I’m just saying. Maybe we don’t need a perfect house. Just a safe, functional, affordable—”

“We’re literally creating life again,” you interrupt, walking backwards up the driveway like you’re in a music video. “This house is gonna be the backdrop of our baby’s first steps. First birthdays. First time they lie about brushing their teeth and think we don’t know. I refuse to let all that happen in a house with warped baseboards.”

Alex drags a hand through his hair. “The baby doesn’t even exist yet.”

“I’m manifesting.”

“You’re derailing.”

You flash him a grin and take a dramatic step onto the porch like you’re stepping onto a cursed pirate ship. The wood creaks way too loud.

“See?” you whisper, looking over your shoulder. “That’s a horror movie creak. Not a charming fixer-upper creak.”

Alex just exhales. “Okay. So this one’s a no because of ghosts.”

“And the bad tilework. But mostly ghosts.”

The realtor—poor kind-eyed Amanda, who’s been putting up with you for three weekends now—greets you both with a too-cheery “Hi again!” and a hopeful clipboard. You give her a sad smile like you’re here to break the news that her dog died.

“Sorry,” you say softly, “this one’s haunted.”

Amanda pauses.

Alex turns so fast he nearly trips over his own shoes. “I told you not to say that to her!”

You hold up your hands. “She deserves the truth! She’s showing us houses during Mercury retrograde. She’s risking her life.”

—————-

house #4: the one with the sink.

Amanda opens the door with a little flourish, like she’s hoping this will finally be the one. “This just hit the market,” she says brightly. “Mid-century charm, recently updated kitchen, and it has a huge finished basement.”

You’re already suspicious.

The foyer’s fine. Hardwood floors. Natural light. A funky little light fixture you kinda love. Alex looks tentatively hopeful for the first time in days.

And then you reach the kitchen.

“Oh no.”

Alex freezes. “What.”

“Oh my god.”

“What. What is it,” he says, already cringing.

You’re just pointing. “Look at the sink.”

Amanda, chipper as ever, starts explaining, “It’s an original farmhouse basin, very trendy right now—”

“It’s slanted, Amanda,” you whisper, horrified. “It’s a diagonal sink. Why is it in the corner like that? Who’s washing dishes? An alien crab with no sense of spatial awareness?”

Alex squints at it. The sink is, in fact, installed at an angle. In a corner. With one faucet and two mismatched knobs that look like they were stolen from a lawn hose and a Victorian dollhouse, respectively.

Amanda is already on the defensive. “Some people like a little personality in their plumbing—”

“It’s giving lair,” you interrupt. “It’s giving ‘I harvest organs in this kitchen.’”

Alex turns to her, defeated. “I’m so sorry. She’s just—she’s tired. She’s joking.”

“I wish I was joking,” you say quietly, still staring at the sink like it owes you child support. “That thing is one oil spill away from killing us all.”

——————-

house #5: the one with the floor.

You walk in. You take one look around. You don’t even speak. You just stop.

Alex notices immediately. “No. Don’t do that. Say words. Use your human words.”

You turn to him very slowly. “I need you to take one single step forward and tell me what you feel.”

Alex rolls his eyes and steps forward. Then freezes. “…Why is the floor bouncy.”

“Exactly.”

He lifts his foot and steps again. It’s like walking on a birthday cake. Every step makes a faint little boing.

“This is carpet over plywood over sadness,” you say. “We’re going to fall into a sinkhole and die mid-move-in.”

Amanda, now visibly sweating, tries to salvage it. “It’s probably just some older subflooring. We could have it inspected—”

“Have what inspected?” you ask. “The trampoline under our feet?”

Alex actually laughs, but it’s the kind of laugh that sounds like a man coming undone. “Okay. Okay. So we’re never buying a house. We’ll just die in our apartment and haunt it forever.”

You nod. “At least that one doesn’t have a corner sink.”

————-

house #6: the one.

You don’t say anything for a while.

Not when Amanda greets you. Not when she opens the front door. Not even when the warm smell of fresh wood floors and lemon cleaner hits your nose in the entryway.

You just walk in.

The light in here is perfect. Like glowing, golden-hour-every-hour perfect. The walls are a soft, cozy cream. There’s a bay window in the living room you can already picture decorating for every holiday. The kitchen? Clean lines, normal sink, no haunted corners. You feel it immediately. In your chest. In your bones.

Alex is still hovering behind you, cradling his anxiety like a feral cat. “What’s wrong,” he whispers. “What do you hate already. Say it fast. Rip the Band-Aid.”

You turn around slowly, eyes wide. “…I don’t hate it.”

His brows pull together. “Wait what?”

“I like it.”

Amanda gasps like someone just proposed. “Really??”

You nod. “I think this might be it.”

Alex looks around in disbelief. “No ghost energy?”

“No ghosts.”

“Weird sink?”

“Perfectly normal sink.”

“Weird neighbors?”

“I haven’t met them yet, but this feels like cul-de-sac wine moms and passive aggressive Christmas lights in a good way.”

You wander deeper into the house while Amanda practically starts planning a mortgage party in her head. There’s a fireplace. A bonus room. A little nook by the stairs that would be perfect for a toy chest. Alex follows behind you like he doesn’t trust any of it to be real.

And when you get upstairs, you find it—the nursery.

It’s already painted the softest sage green. Big window. Closet with built-in shelving. And a little piece of tape on the light switch that says “baby room :)” in sharpie.

You don’t cry. But it’s close.

Alex stands beside you, quiet for once.

And then—

“Well, actually—upstairs, there’s like this weird little—”

You put your hand over his mouth. “Shhh.”

He blinks.

“This is the one,” you say firmly. “This is our house.”

He mumbles something under your hand that’s probably ‘are you sure’ or ‘I think I’m gonna throw up’ but you just nod again.

“Shh. Let yourself be happy, babe. We’re gonna buy a house. And then we’re gonna fill it with tiny humans and plastic toys and way too many throw blankets.”

Amanda starts quietly texting the mortgage guy before either of you can change your mind.

And Alex—finally, finally—lets himself breathe.

——————

They accept your offer two days later.

Two.

Not two weeks. Two days. Amanda calls you with a tone like she just witnessed a miracle and says the sellers loved your letter—especially the part where you mentioned how Mia already picked out “the room with the sparkly light” for her stuffed animal kingdom.

Alex hangs up the phone and just… stares at the wall like he got jump-scared.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters. “That was… it?”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“That’s it? We bought a house? Like—they said yes? Where’s the rejection? The bidding war? The dark twist in act three?”

You shrug, putting snacks in Mia’s lunchbox for preschool. “Maybe the universe cut us a break.”

“No. No it doesn’t. The universe gave me a child who thinks glitter glue belongs in her hair. It hates us.”

“Excuse me,” you say, holding up a pink-frosted Pop-Tart. “That glitter-haired child is the reason this house is ours. Mia walked in, called the fireplace a ‘cozy fire portal,’ and the sellers fell in love with her.”

“She ate a leaf in the backyard.”

“She said it was a ‘nature snack.’ I support her creativity.”

He groans, dragging his hands down his face. “I’m just saying this feels too smooth. Where’s the hidden mold? The evil HOA? The part where the bank’s like ‘Actually you owe us your blood’?”

But it never comes. The paperwork goes through. The inspection is clean. Even the movers show up on time.

And suddenly, there you are: standing on the front porch of your new home with Alex holding the keys and Mia spinning in circles on the lawn in her sparkliest dress, yelling, “I LIVE HERE NOW!!”

Alex just blinks at the house like it’s a dream. “Wait. We really… we did it?”

You slip your hand into his. “We did.”

He looks at Mia and shakes his head softly. “Now she gets a whole yard to destroy.”

“And a whole sibling to teach chaos to,” you murmur.

Alex looks at you sideways. “You’re still sure about that?”

You smile. “Ask me again in a few weeks.”

————-

four weeks later

Mia is in the living room, building a blanket fort out of every pillow in existence and making her Barbies have a council meeting about bedtime injustice.

You’re in the upstairs bathroom, gripping the edge of the sink with one hand and holding the test in the other.

It’s not faint. It’s not unclear. It’s there. A solid, definite second line.

You were only half-serious when you took it. Just tired, a little off, late by a few days—but not expecting this. Not this fast.

You sit down on the edge of the tub and let it sink in.

Then from the hallway: “Babe? Do we have more batteries? Mia’s walkie-talkie keeps yelling about ghosts again.”

You laugh under your breath. “One sec!”

He pushes the door open without knocking—because that’s what happens after four years of parenting together. Modesty died long ago.

“You okay? You look—” He stops short when he sees the test in your hand.

You hold it up.

He stares.

“…is that?”

You nod.

He drops to the tile in front of you like he’s been shot in the chest by joy. “Are you serious? Already?!”

You nod again. “Guess the fire portal nursery’s gonna get used sooner than we thought.”

He lets out this stunned, cracking laugh and presses his forehead to your stomach. “Mia’s gonna be a big sister.”

“She’s gonna tell them bedtime stories about glitter crimes and tree snacks.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, voice soft and stunned. “We’re really doing this again.”

You bury your fingers in his hair and smile. “And this time we’ve got a house that doesn’t bounce when you walk on it.”

[astro-nerd]

Day 25: Too weak to stand

Fandom: original characters

Character: Rena

TW: gunshots, temporary death

I’d argue that after just over 1800 years of having magic and about 1200 years of practicing it I have a moderately good handle on it. When it comes to certain things anyway.

“So what? We break down the wall?” Thea raps their knuckles against the solid brick. No hollow sound to be heard.

“No.” Lei could be a right prick when he wants to be. “He wants us to plane travel.” Naturally the group looked at me as if I’d grown two heads.

“You what, lass?” Valid question from Slys given that I’m the only person here who knows what in the gods I’m on about.

“Plane travelling is one of those things that everyone with magic can do but doesn’t realise because it’s not really something that’s taught cause it’s kinda frowned upon.” I explain to the group. Since making this discovery accidentally at the ripe old age of fourteen I’d done what research I could and a lot of experimenting.

“What exactly is plane travelling?” Varn has his paper and ink in hand prepared to learn something new. I wouldn’t be shocked if he managed to do this himself to be fair, if anyone could it would be him.

“So is everyone aware of the multiple planes of existence? Particularly the god planes.” I thankfully get a round of nods, “great. So with a few specific steps it turns out those who have magic can travel through and into them.” I try to smile in a way that makes me look less crazy for possessing this knowledge.

“And those of us without magic?” I do not miss the tone Slys fires at me.

“Undetermined. As it’s easy to tell I don’t know a lotta people and I only know magic people can do it thanks to the dickhead who set this up.” With a hum he takes my answer and I feel slightly less hated. Win.

“And the solution for right now?” While Thea was making a point of not looking at me for this entire journey I still felt the judgement washing over me in a way that took me back to being a child all over again. Shaking my head a bit clearer I keep the smile on my face and act like I have everything under control.

“Right now I’ll just bring you all with me. We all just need to be in contact.” Again I don’t wanna talk about how I figured all this out. While the other two looked sceptical Varn immediately slaps his hand into mine while declaring.

“Onwards friends.” At least he’s excited. Warily, Slys takes Varn’s other hand and extends his remaining one to Thea who takes it after a moment.

“Alright whatever you do. Don’t let go.” With my final piece of advice instilled I take a deep breath and send myself falling backwards much to the alarm of my companions.

Now after doing this trick for so long it’s easy for me to recognise when the cycle is over and I can halt the motion. I imagine for everyone else it was like being thrown off a cliff into a swirling vortex of rotation. My hand found the wall of the corridor in order to keep my balance while my vision came back from the blackness. There’s two sets of vomiting from behind me and a hand still in mine so by the time I turn around I can confirm that everyone made it. Sweat beaded my forehead as I could hardly feel below my knees and yet Varn still held onto my hand. Honestly I think it was keeping us both standing. Once Thea and Slys had recovered we continued on through the rest of the puzzles which felt hazy. I hadn’t realised how much energy I would expend doing that, my head felt like it was an anvil on a toothpick from its weight. The only thing keeping me on my feet was the constant presence of Varn’s hand in mine guiding me onwards. Only in Lei’s office did I momentarily work through the fog to get my hands on Jeramy and hold him over the flamethrower in the floor.

“Get out here asshole unless you want your friend cooked.” The added weight of Jeramy hanging from my grip nearly knocked me over then and there but I managed to stand my ground. Lei’s smug stupid face slinks out of his office before he tilts his head at me.

“Come on now Rena, we both know you wouldn’t dare.” He’s right I wouldn’t. I would however slap that stupid grin off his face.

“Give Amaris back and I’ll let him go.” He laughs with his head thrown back.

“Oh don’t worry you’ll get your friend back. I just want to talk and you can’t keep your vision straight so when those flamethrowers go up let's not aim for an accident. Let Jeramy go.” There’s an edge to his voice, almost as sharp as his knife. He warning me.

“Amaris first.” With a last laugh Lei shrugs and goes to sit at his desk. There’s heat in my bones moments before the rest of the flamethrowers light up, the others flinch back for a moment as every flame climbs for the ceiling. Except one. Normally keeping this flame down wouldn’t be that hard but after plane travelling it was like having a weight crushing down on my shoulders. Unwilling to risk Jeramy’s life I pull past me but keep my grip for my own stability as the flames just barely miss licking us both as they hit the ceiling. Once the fires went out Lei saunters over to us, his grin even bigger as he takes me by the shoulder.

“You’re so predictable, so unwilling to dirty your hands even after all of these years.” I can’t muster a reply, my tongue heavy in my mouth. He sends one more laugh my way before leaving me with the group and snapping his fingers. Amaris appears from a door just as Varn takes a hold of my upper arm keeping me propped on my feet.

“Guys what in the gods name is going on?” She stalks over to us with no objection from the asshole. He instead turns his attention to Thea.

“Dorothea, can I call you Thea? I’ve been dying to meet you.” Thea looks entirely unimpressed with him.

“And why’s that?” We saw the gun too late. At some point during the five shots I’d hit the ground when slipping out of Varn’s grasp. Without a second thought Lei had let five bullets rip their way through Thea who now lay dead and bleeding on the floor. There was cursing, screaming and the ringing in my ears. Deep down I pray nothing’s changes but it’s overshadowed with my thoughts that somehow echo out of Lei’s mouth.

“Oh, you all didn’t know?” Thea draws breath in a choked gasp as everyone jumps away from her. Moments later she’s brushing herself off before realising the situation at hand.

“I can explain, listen-”

“Explain what? The fact you’re not a fucking corpse? How do you explain that?” Amaris is screaming. Slys has walked off across the room somewhere. Slowly, Varn lowers himself down to sit with me.

“Are you alright?” I ask as if there isn't a catastrophe around us.

“I feel I should ask you that, sorry for the drop you took.” I try to make myself laugh slightly, my legs still a long distance feeling.

“I’m just fine, I’m pretty close to the floor.” If I could get up I’d throw Lei out of the closest window but I doubt he’s going anywhere any time soon. This was unnecessary. Cruel even.

“Did you know?” Varn asks me quietly. For a moment I’m taken aback. How did he figure it out?

“Yeah, yeah I did.”

[momentsbeforemass]

Learning backwards

Some of the best learning happens backwards.

That is, you take the test. Get it wrong. And now you’re primed to learn about it.

If you review in the aftermath of that failed attempt? You will be amazingly productive. Because you’ve primed yourself to learn by blowing it.

You will get so much more out of it. For both retention and comprehension.

I can’t tell you how many times I have experienced this. Both personally and with my students.

It’s why I build a pattern that takes advantage of this into the courses I’ve designed. Introduction to concept, followed by a no-stakes activity, review of concept, low-stakes quiz, in-depth discussion of concept, graded assignment. 

The thing is, backwards learning isn’t limited to classroom stuff.

Ask anyone in a long-term relationship and they’ll tell you how much they learned about their partner and themselves, and how much they grew together, in the wake of something going wrong.

But whether we’re talking about learning a new skill, growing in a relationship, or anything else, backwards learning depends on what we do in the aftermath of something going wrong.

Do we give up and bail out after it goes wrong? Or do we look closely at it, ask “what can I learn from this?” And then take advantage of our hard-earned priming to learn?

If you’re thinking that this is a rough way to learn, you’re right. Those of us who learn backwards have the scars to prove it.

Which is why getting it right the first time is held up as the gold standard. Because it’s a lot easier – when it’s actually possible. But not everyone can do it. And not every time.

Let’s be clear, getting it right the first time isn’t the only valid way to learn. Backwards learning is just as valid. And (for me at least) often more effective.

This is exactly what Jesus is talking about in today’s Gospel. Referring to His impending crucifixion, He says to the Pharisees, “When you lift up the Son of Man, then you will realize who I AM.”

Jesus knows that they don’t get it. And that they won’t get it. Until after they get it wrong. Horrifyingly, murderously wrong.

What’s amazing to me is that despite knowing this? Despite knowing how He will suffer because they have to first get it horrifying wrong before they can get it? Jesus still goes through with it all.

Which shows you and me two things. The value that God puts on the relationship that He wants to have with you. And the utter shamelessness of God’s love for you.

Your mistakes – all the times you got it wrong the first time (or the second time, or 4,387th time) before you got it – mean nothing to God.

Even if you’re still making them.

God doesn’t love you less because you learn backwards.

Today’s Readings

[canichangemyblogname]

Not sure how I feel about the deleted scene drop. I understand 100% why they originally cut it— it’s kinda a useless scene (they would cover or already had covered the same narrative bases in other scenes) that would have thrown the pacing of the episode in a very short season already not renowned for it’s fantastic pacing (y’know… because it’s so short). Plus, imho, the dialogue (writing) comes across as… out of place (if that’s the right word). It’s a bit of an awkward scene. But maybe that’s because I think “shovel talk” (as other fans have called it) over a 34 y/o man is a bit cheugy and I’m also not enjoying the “mother of the 118” role that ABC seems to want to box Hen into (I’m also begging y’all fans to stop calling black women and queer people “sassy”).

I also couldn’t figure out if Tommy was playing dumb or actually that dense, so, at first, the scene seemed— at least to me— like a 180 for a character that has otherwise been portrayed as competent and perceptive. (EDIT: I’ve been leaning toward “he was playing dumb” over “he’s really that dense.” Also, Tommy *does not* strike me as the type to “play dumb” to avoid a question, especially from someone he has a good rapport with, as some fans are suggesting; he strikes me as the type to approach a goofy situation with an old friend with some dry humor. Doesn’t mean my first reaction wasn’t, “🙄 Don’t play dumb, now.”) However, his dialogue did provide some comedy and levity 🤷‍♂️, and I do agree with analyses that paint the whole interaction as a back ‘n forth teasing.

I just personally find the whole “What are your intentions” thing kinda passé and cliche.

So, I’m a bit torn because the scene did also give us:

a second confirmation that Tommy is not pressuring Buck into anything Buck doesn’t want, like a certain subset of fans insist.

confirmation that they’re “taking things slow,” something we know Buck does enjoy. Buck wants his romantic partners to show that they’re also serious about him. He has gone out of his way with previous partners to slow things down or choose people who seem serious about dating. He didn’t have to ask Tommy to slow down like he did Abby or Taylor.

“He’s in ketosis” << literally laughed my ass off, but justice for my man, Buck; he loves carbs. (Joking aside— this is totally in character for Evan “fitness nut” Buckley, who casually talks to men with tape worms in their ass about the best low carb pasta options.)

another confirmation that they’re fucking, and fucking nasty. “I’m letting him set the pace, and I’m just trying to keep up,” is a fantastic precursor to the “God I hope so.” Tommy Kinard— your jokes about keeping up with a younger man are truly unmatched. (EDIT: Yes, I know the line wasn’t inherently about sex, you dorks, and that it can also be a reference to how Buck has seemingly sped run the “pre-dating” phase of his and Tommy’s relationship.)

more confirmation that Buck is into Tommy, and that he shows Tommy this, too.

Edit: I’m also torn about having a less than enthusiastic reaction to the scene because at this point, Tommy is like the Star Wars sequels. There are valid critiques of his characterization, his past, and how he’s been written, but because there is a large chunk of the fandom that cannot argue in good faith and has the most ass-backwards things to say about queer men, I spend more time defending the character from terrible takes than engaging with the source material the way I’d like to. I’d really like to just say what I think without having to fight through bad faith arguments.

[hotluncheddie]

🍓

its basically September oh shit oh shit! so i gotta post my @thefreakandthehair summer fic challenge!

prompt: picking berries | cw: weed | rated: G | part 1/2(?) | tags: domesticity, fluff & steve is pining

-

eddies shirt had ridden up. but, like, just a little. up so his side was exposed, bandages finally removed and skin finally healing. 

steve let his eyes slide to the joint in his hand, watched as it raised itself to his lips so he could inhale. he shifts his head more comfortably against the couch cushion. stretches his legs out so they could slide under the coffee table. his eyes slide back over to eddies side. 

‘your skin kinda looks like bread.’ steve says. ‘or like, dough but with, jam maybe? like there’s for sure berry tones there, along with the, like, the skin.’ 

‘literally what the fuck are you doing in my house right now steve?’ 

steve tracks his eyes up eddies arm, past his hands holding the book on his chest and up to his mouth. eddies lips are quirked up at the corners. eddies mouth looks good like that.. always looks good. 

shit. robin said he needed to stop looking at eddies mouth so much 

shit. eddie asked him a question. 

‘uhhh… keeping you company?’ steve tries. 

eddies mouth slides into a grin. his eyes stay glued to the page but steve swears he can see them sparkle. he feels the sparkle on his cheeks, as if eddie had touched them. sometimes just looking his way steve feels it. he himself covered in sparkle, in the starlight eddie fills his chest with, exposed onto his skin. 

‘well. ok. valid.’ eddie signs dramatically and drops the book so he can look right at steve. ‘make me a pb&j?’ fluttering his eyelashes to sweeten the request. 

little does eddie know just how sweet steve is on him already. 

‘sure’ steve stands up way too quick. taking a second to stare at the carpet real hard. come to terms with the new surrounding that came with the ground being under his feet instead of his ass. 

he shuffles over the worn carpet, purposefully not lifting his feet up to feel the friction on his toes through his socks. he shuffles back over to eddie after reaching the carpet precipice. sneaking a wiggly finger down to poke eddie’s shoulder and zap him with all the carpet static he just collected. 

‘Ow! Fucker!’ eddie laughs, wriggling around on the sofa so he’s on his belly and looking up at steve. steve giggles. 

‘you’re like a worm. worm munson.’ steve giggles again and starts walking backwards towards the kitchen. 

‘stop being weird high. you know how much i like being weird high and i’m not allowed to smoke yet.’ steve hears eddie whine as he starts getting the peanut butter and bread out of the cupboards. but steve can hear the laughter still bracketing eddie’s words. 

he smiles and keeps making their sandwiches. ‘i’m not that high anyway dude. i’m just.. comfortable.’ steve turns to open the fridge and glance back at eddie again. 

eddies been watching him over the arm of the sofa, grin still wild and silly and steve can’t look away. but maybe he is a bit more high than he said because his arm keeps opening the fridge until it smacks him in the chest. 

eddie snorts, finally wiggling back down on the sofa. letting the spell break so steve can look at what he’s actually trying to do. 

his collide with the fridge knocked a couple magnets and a photo off onto the floor. steve dips to put them back and doubles back over with giggles. 

‘god what the fuck? is this you munson?’ steve holds the photo right up to his nose. it’s of eddie as a kid, looking real weird. he’s all zonked out with red smooshed on his hands and face. (think)

‘yeah, ha! wayne had a strawberry hookup from the plant. used to be fucking obsessed with them as a kid. ate them till i felt sick most summers, especially if we got to actually go picking berries. oof. good fucking times.’ eddie says to the ceiling. 

‘strawberry’s huh?’ steve asks as he slides the photo back under the magnet. tapping the corner once before opening the fridge to get out the jam and two sodas. 

‘i’m a sweet guy harrington what can i say?’ steve hears eddie say more softly than they’ve been speaking previously. the fluffy top of his head just visible over the top of the armrest. 

steve smiles while finishing up the sandwiches. feeling sunshine warm he tucks strawberries away on the shelf in him mind labeled ‘eddie munson xoxo’. 

‘sit up sit up. civilised citizens only get to hold the paper plate of harrington pbnj’ steve says, just about getting everything safely to the couch. 

eddie snickers and curls his knees up under his chin, taking the paper plate and a huge bite. 

steve flops down next to him, squishing into the cushions to get comfy and humming at eddie’s choice of movie for them to watch. 

‘Oh fuck.’ steve moans around his bite of sandwich. high pbnj? aces. 

‘sweet and salty just like you’ eddie says under his breath and steve smiles again, taking a sip of soda and a mental note of how the tv light plays across eddie’s pale skin. 

part 2

[pigtailedgirl]

Oh it's getting close!!! Predictions for @variousqueerthings and @gjdraws etc. for finale thoughts versus moi.

Spoilers so read after your watch all.

I think you'll be quite pleased. I feel like Welsh. 'On reflection I imagine that pleases me' LOL. No no, I kid, cause it's good to see fannish joy.

Things you'll love:

I think because you like the idea of Fraser returning home and full circle you'll love the Canada return and ending.

I think you'll see Ray K opened up for a growth arc going with or that as a sort of pointed thing of commitment in his friendship with Fraser. So not the for shipping but very nice to see their dynamic.

I think you'll enjoy the brief Rays dynamic.

The plot and Bolts return. The Mounties and Buck and omg cute Dief in a scarf.

Things of mixed bag:

Ray Vecchio's return and somewhat regulated to side pool status and all the unexplored there.

Thatcher's ending.

Bob's ...Well everything. What it does for his and Fraser's characters and relations.

Everyone else in the epilogue going off wall.

Things I'm really curious about:

Your take on re-watch whole of the dip into surrealism of the later that admitted didn't jive for moi. Do you perceive a writing difference?

My crack take that has mounting, heh heh, evidence of Fraser's cracked self running from realism almost like that's a character arc.

What you think of the alternate script idea which was gonna play Fraser/Thatcher as boss/worker/relationship up there at end?

My take; which is such a contrast because lord is the finale not my jam LOL:

On I don't like Fraser going back, and view it as backwards and hiding and not closure. I'm a give a man a dual citizenship home take.

The plot opens up chasms in his and Bob's relationships I don't like. Oh my god does the murder plot torpedo Bob's parenting and moral and the idea the ending gives any earned redemption to Bob but leaves Fraser with all these new wounds...ARGH. Especially in light of just re-watching Hunting Season as the episode prior. Bob not only moved on enough for himself to have another lover, another half-abandoned emotional connection and oh look a kid, but it just means he doubly devalued getting close to Fraser over everyone else Bob was friends and all with. Oh he makes amends or wants to for Maggie but fucks off on Fraser. Oh he tells her killing in revenge is wrong and then THIS. Excuse you sir?!

THE HATE FLOWS THROUGH ME.

Also, Muldoon isn't a well fleshed final bad guy for that big a reveal and we don't get the weight. Same with the plot. It's very set piece, not characters.

Ray K latching on to Fraser for identity validation and finding is backwards to him growing for me in both seeing himself for himself, or closure with his stuff, and in learning to be there for a friend without it being bout him.

What the hell is up for everyone else? They have nothing serious imo. And woah the epilogue.

And last and yes surprisingly least, cause it's not about Ray issues, I was disappointed that they brought Ray Vecchio back but didn't really go in on explaining or fleshing out character of the why undercover. You are left with theories of whys and what impacts. For what was your co-lead, that sad.