#{ i am small and the world is big | isms }

[jerzwriter]

Turning Red: A Holiday Tale

The usual mayhem ensues when Kaycee and her friends head out to do some holiday shopping at a local mall. She's elated to be done with shopping when she finally finds the perfect gift for Ethan, and then...

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee) Characters: Jackie Varma, Bryce Lahela, etc. Words: 1,500 Rating: Teen A/N: Participating in @choicesficwriterscreations Holiday Event; @choicesholidays This is the most embarrassing Christmas (moment) ever! @choicesdecember2023 I'm going with Christmas :) The concept sounded fun, not sure it came out the

“Ouch!” Jackie yelled out as her head slammed into the roof of the car for the umpteenth time. “Lahela! Jesus Christ!”  

“He is the reason for the season,” Bryce smirked.

Bryce wouldn’t have tried to conceal his amusement, normally, but because it was the holidays, he tried... and failed.

Kaycee turned to him from the passenger seat. “I thought you were agnostic?”

“I am, but I’m a recent convert to sarcasm-ism. Try to keep up, MacClennan!”

“Well, Mr. Sarcastic-ism, can you try to avoid potholes? If my head hits this damn roof one more time, you’ll be responsible for the bills for my brain injury.”

“Brain injury?” he sassed, stopping what he was going to say when Kaycee clenched his hand with a stern glare.  

“Bryce... be nice.”

“But... but... Ah! You’re no fun since you started dating Ethan,” he protested. “I liked you better when you were all pent up and feisty.”

“Yeah, well, she sure ain’t pent up anymore,” Elijah laughed as Jackie gagged.

“Must we?”

“We mustn’t,” Bryce replied, “but apparently, Ethan and Kaycee must.”

“I knew I should have taken the bus!” Jackie groused.

Kaycee turned to her friend with a conciliatory grin. “Jackie, it’s an 18-minute walk to the mall from the bus stop... and it’s 24 degrees outside.”

“Right about now, enduring frostbite seems like a small price to avoid this ride.”

“That’s it,” Sienna smiled. “I know who will be the Grinch in our roomies holiday card.”

“Was that ever in doubt?” Bryce asked.

“LOOK! A SPOT!” Jackie hollered. “Please park so I can get out of this tin can.”

“I’m so excited to start shopping!” Sienna beamed. “I just love this time of year! The decorations, the music, Santa!”

“Be honest, Si,” Bryce asked with a twinkle in his eye. “You didn’t come to shop... you just want your picture taken with the big guy in the red suit, don’t you?”

“I plead the fifth!”

“Speaking of shopping, we’re splitting up inside, right?” Kaycee inquired. “I can’t buy gifts for any of you if you’re with me.”

“That’s so sweet,” Elijah declared. “But you could have just had my new Maserati delivered to me at the apartment.”

“On a resident’s budget? You’re lucky you get a Matchbox replica of a Maserati.”

“Kaycee, I don’t know why you subject yourself to this,” Jackie griped. “You have a rich boyfriend with a nice, expensive car. Why didn’t you just go shopping with him? You could have avoided these clowns and wouldn’t have to worry about run-in factor.”

“I’d have to worry about a different run-in factor,” Kaycee reminded. “Remember, we’re trying to keep the fact that we’re dating lowkey until I finish my residency. Something about us strolling through the mall together for Christmas shopping might tip some people off.”

“Yeah, especially since you get that doe-eyed look whenever he’s around,” Sienna teased.

“And Ethan gets that slightly less disgusted with the world look,” Elijah added. “I see Kaycee’s point. It would be a dead giveaway.”

“Really?” Kaycee laughed. “If we’re done mocking me... what do you say? Meet up at the food court in two hours?”

“Sounds good!” Sienna said, pulling the others away.

~~~~~  

Kaycee had to admit that Sienna was right. It was impossible not to catch the holiday spirit as the scent of the pine tree decorations and the sounds of the season filled the air. Even the bustling crowds couldn't get her down. Being a resident unable to return home for the holidays was tough. Still, it was made much easier with her found family surrounding her, and this year, she also had Ethan. It was amazing how far they had come. Last year at this time, she was secretly pining for him. Overanalyzing every word, every glance in a desperate attempt to determine if he felt the same way about her or if she was losing her mind. This year was a different story. Sure, only their closest friends knew they were together, but they were together. That's what mattered.

“And all it took was me nearly dying,” she chuckled out loud.

“I’m sorry?” An elf handing out discount flyers inquired.

“Oh, nothing,” Kaycee blushed as she rushed away. Enough daydreaming; she had shopping to do!

~~~~~  

An hour later, she was loaded down with bags overflowing with gifts for family and friends. But she had one gift left to buy. But what do you get the man who has everything he wants – which now even included her? His taste in Scotch exceeded the limits of her budget, and he refused to give her a gift list. “I know what a resident makes, and I don’t want you wasting your money on me.” As if she wasn’t going to buy him something. A sweater? Boring. A tie? He had dozens of those. Frustrated, she put the quest for Ethan’s gift off for another day and headed to Macy’s to buy some things she needed for herself.

She checked her watch after waiting in a long line to purchase a few pairs of sensible briefs for work. She had just enough time to get back to the food court to meet her friends. She was almost out of the intimate apparel department when something stopped her in her tracks.

“This is perfect!” she whispered as her fingers caressed the butter-soft red silk hanging before her. It wasn’t your standard, tacky holiday teddy... this was exquisite! Silk trimmed with scalloped red lace and a decadent velvet sash... “It’s perfect!” she muttered again. It didn’t matter what gift she was giving him, as long as she gave it to him wearing this he'd be elated!

Her hopes were momentarily dashed when she saw the price tag, but they were lifted again when she saw the 50% off sticker! SOLD! Sure, she’d have to wait in that long line again, but she imagined herself wearing this... and imagined Ethan’s reaction to her in it. Well, some things were simply worth being late for!

She rushed to get in the queue again, humming Santa Baby softly when a voice calling out made her blood go cold.

“Kaycee! Is that you?”

Please don’t let it be him! Please don’t let it be him! Please don’t let it be him! She said, turning slowly... it’s him!

“Naveen! Fancy meeting you here!”

“At the mall at Christmastime?” Naveen chuckled. “I find that I run into half of Boston here! At least half of Edenbrook.”

“Yes...” Kaycee squirmed “Bu... bu... but...”

“But?” He asked when she couldn’t get the words out.

“I just didn’t expect to see you in the women’s intimate apparel section of Macy’s?”

“Oh,” Naveen laughed, lifting up a bag. “I got Sarah in the hospital grab bag! She asked for fuzzy slippers, and they have the best ones here!”

“Oh, I... I see,” Kaycee stated, attempting to hide her sexy little garment when Naveen’s eyes fell upon it.

“Oh,” Naveen choked, turning as red as the teddy.

“It’s uhm... it’s a gift!” Kaycee sputtered, not telling a lie. After all, it was about to be Ethan’s favorite gift this year.

“It’s OK,” Naveen answered nervously. “I don’t need to know...”

“For my mother!” She blurted as Naveen’s brows shot to his hairline.

“Your... your mother?”

“Yes! No! I mean....Yes! She is going to a Christmas-themed... uh, Christmas-themed bridal shower! Yes! That’s it! She’s going to a Christmas-themed bridal shower .... for my cousin... Caroline! But she’s too shy to buy something like this herself, so, uh... I told her I’d get it.”

Naveen gave Kaycee the side eye.  He had spent a good deal of time with Rose MacClennan while Kaycee was hospitalized after the attack, and he didn’t have her pegged as the type of person who would be too embarrassed to buy a teddy, but then again, those were strange days. In any case, he wanted nothing more than to put Kaycee... and himself... out of their shared misery. So he politely ended the conversation and took his leave.

With the red teddy safely concealed in tissue paper and tucked in a pretty bag, Kaycee relayed her encounter to her friends.

“Oh my God, YOUR MOTHER!” Bryce laughed. “The best you could come up with was your MOTHER!?”

“Thanks for the support, Bryce!”

“Take it easy, MacClennan,” Jackie tried to reassure. “It’s a teddy, for fucks sake. It’s not like you were purchasing his and her sex toys!”

“JACKIE!”

“What!? Am I wrong?”

“No... I know it’s not the end of the world,” Kaycee started. “But Naveen is like Ethan’s second father... and would you want to run into your boyfriend's father while you’re buying a sexy red teddy?”

“OK, we see your point!” Elijah laughed.

“We see your point, but we haven’t seen the teddy!” Sienna winked. “Let’s see it!”

“Here? In the middle of the food court?”

“I think we should weigh in on your decision,” Bryce teased.

“Fine,” Kaycee blushed, pulling the item from the bag to her friend’s wolf-whistles.

“It’s beautiful! I approve!” Sienna grinned.

Bryce nodded. “And I’m confident Ethan will approve as well. Just ask Naveen!"

"Bryce!" Kaycee squealed, smacking her friend's arm. "Let me put this away before....”

“Kaycee? Is that you?”

“No.... this isn’t happening....” Kaycee groaned.

“Quick, give it to me!” Sienna whispered as Kaycee turned around.

“Alan! What are you doing in Boston?”

Hope you enjoyed this silliness. Poor Kaycee. lol

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#choices fanfic #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #open heart fanfic #open heart choices #choices open heart #choices stories you play #holiday fics #holiday fanfic

[pinselwurm]

at my gf’s request, i’m putting my Deadloch Killer Manifesto out there into the world just so i’ll stop giving her impromptu tedtalks about it in our kitchen.  and so i can say “told u so.” written after episode 6 of 8 has aired.  i came to my conclusion after watching episode 5, then turning around and rewatching all 5 episodes again to confirm.  episode 6 then further confirmed by hitting me in the face with the story’s theme with no subtlety.

deadloch is a good show, with good writing, and good writing leaves breadcrumbs.  not necessarily clue breadcrumbs, but theme and style breadcrumbs.  pulling any ol’ person out at the end as the murderer is shitty, you’ve got to make it a satisfying realization.

so to start with, other than murder, what is our story actually about?

obviously major spoilers and the potential to ruin your viewing experience by taking away your own “aha” moment when IF i am correct:

what is deadloch about?  certainly social strife, all the (misogyny, classism, racism, homophobia, colonialism) -isms that make people hate and resent each other, but the reason these characters are so interesting put together in the small town is because they are each two people at once, the person they were and the person they are or are in the process of becoming.  they are haunted by the shadows of their former selves in deadloch, a town too small to properly hide in.

if you remember the very, very first seconds of the pilot we see a sign on a road at dawn: Deadloch.  Population 2406.  Home of the Winter Feastival.  Reinvent Yourself.

REINVENT YOURSELF.  The key to the entire story right at the start.

the dynasty women of deadloch who reinvented themselves are all the big players in town, the successful residents.  margaret reinvented herself as a business woman and artisan after her husband’s death freed her from just being a wealthy wife going along with his plans.  skye reinvented herself by escaping deadloch, being out as a lesbian, and gaining culinary skills that made her valuable to blossoming business in deadloch.  vic started her bakery after her husband’s death, no longer just a publican’s wife, she’s got her own business.  mayor rahme, clearly an overachiever, decided being a doctor wasn’t enough so she’s run for office and spearheaded local development herself.  cath retrained from a lawyer to vet.  dulcie nuked her career to get over her cheating past.  dulcie is now in the process of reinventing herself again as the woman who needs to be a leader and can’t deny she’s not satisfied anymore.  abby redirected her life to suit her terrible boyfriend and is now seeing that she’s worth more.  eddie is becoming another person, letting herself let go of her own anger at herself.  fuck, even ray pies reinvented himself from try-hard to sincere.

most of the deadloch men, however, are not reinventing themselves even a little bit.  no improvement, just endless bitterness at the women who are surpassing them.  no class betrayal or individualism from the boy’s club.

so who among our leading suspect ladies did not explicitly reinvent herself onscreen or is not in the process of doing so?

sharelle and vanessa

sharelle is immediately discounted because, quite simply, she can’t be fucked to do much of anything that she doesn’t have to do to survive, much less dramatic murder.  she’s a stressed, low-wage mom with little support system and she’s not amused by the theatrics of everyone else.

that leaves vanessa, who the story made you discount immediately as an air-headed idiot.

vanessa, dismissed by the police as a mess too dumb to pull off the murders.

vanessa, who’s been completely unsupervised and free to do as she pleases since trent died.

vanessa, who’s been present for almost every body discovery with her hysterical screaming.

vanessa, who’s been with all recent victims the nights before their deaths.

vanessa, who lied about the tuna mornay.

vanessa, who’s inserted herself in the narrative again and again.

vanessa, who LOVES a big dramatic moment and being the center of attention.

vanessa, a good christian woman.

vanessa, who i bet anything, as a good deadloch dynasty girl, knows the tides and boats and clearly has the physical strength to move bodies.

vanessa, trapped as her high school beauty queen self forever to the other residents of deadloch. 

vanessa, not truly accepted by the boy’s club, not given recognition by her female peers.

vanessa, repressed and full of rage.

no job, no real identity, no accomplishments.

god, she must have been just dying to self-actualize.  reinvent herself.  take control, prove she’s smart and sneaky and powerful.  serial killers want everyone to know how smart they are, don’t they?

if you’d spent decades with the boy’s club, playing along, listening to what they said to you, you’d cut out their tongues too.  she has plenty motive.

she’s lived for decades as the good feminine girl gravitating to “strong” masculine men.  but she’s got a goddess complex and takes out men who break the contract, ruin the fucked-up gender role dance with their boorishness.  punishes men who fail to give her what she wants from them (they never will).

i said earlier that i loved this show because only lesbians could write something that appealed to fellow lesbians so much.  “dumb” small town beauty queen snaps and murders all the men that have been disgusting to her, casting final judgement on them, reinvents herself as a goddess of death?  fuck, i’d write that story myself.

what did eddie say in the first episode? “you obviously need a refresher in homicide, mate, it’s always the family.”

deadloch’s misogynistic pressure cooker created a monster, and that monster is nessie. 

(now, there could be a ladies gang doing murders but i think it’s going to play out like this: margaret is doing something stupid and racist for the sake of her money and land but she definitely not a team player so she’s out of any potential murder club.  for skye and vic: i think eddie was right in the beginning, there’s a drug ring in deadloch....run by vic and skye.  but they’re not murdering.  nobody else is doing crime.  yet.)

#deadloch

[gtunesmiff]

WITHOUT WAX

There’s no doubt about it. One of the most notable mentors in both my life and work was Howard Hendricks, a man affectionately known simply as “Prof.” Prof was a mainstay at Dallas Theological Seminary for decades, and though he was widely considered the most effective Christian educator of his time (which spanned sixty years), I remember him just as fondly for his impact outside of the classroom as I do for his lessons within it. I sure miss him.

Without Wax

I distinctly remember the first time I received a handwritten letter from Prof. Though I don’t recall the subject of his note, I very clearly remember his signature, one which has served as an invaluable lesson and a guide in my life. For decades, Prof signed all his correspondence the same way: “Without Wax, Prof.”

The phrase “without wax” is derived from the Latin words sine (without) and cera (wax). According to the tradition associated with the phrase, “without wax” was used as a mark of authenticity by ancient Greek and Roman sculptors. Because many artisans used colored wax to hide cracks and chips in their sculptures, those artisans who refrained from the practice allegedly marked their pieces with the stamp sine cera, without wax, to signal the integrity of their work.

Though there is little historical proof that the phrase is actually the root of the English closing “sincerely” that we often use in our correspondence, Prof didn’t particularly care. When he signed his letters this way, he wasn’t weighing in on an issue of etymology; he was subtly acknowledging the powerful imagery associated with the phrase. More specifically, he was pointing to the importance of sincerity and realness as a foundational principle for life and work in a culture consistently marked by shallowness and fakery.

Insincerity just can’t hold the water

A vase or jar that was cracked and then plugged with a quick fix of colored wax would inevitably melt when sitting in the elements of sun and wind. Then, when the owner wanted to store oil or water in it, the leak would be uncovered and the precious liquid wasted. The vessel was exposed and so too were those who sold it.

Every leader must regularly decide whether to practice a life of cover-ups and charades or a life of authenticity. Authenticity is closing the gap to the best of our ability between what we say we are and who and what we really are. It is certainly tempting to practice on-the-spot, surface patching of our chips and cracks. That shallow mending, however, just doesn’t stand the pressure that life throws at us.

Make sure to forge a sound foundation

Anyone who has ever ventured into the world of homeownership likely remembers the home inspection. One of the first items an inspector examines is the home’s foundation. If the foundation isn’t sound, the rest doesn’t really matter. Worrying about the gutters and water heater when the frame is bound to tear apart is wasted energy.

Even foundations made of the highest-quality materials can develop minor cracks. We all have cracks. That is part of being human. Some cracks are moral weaknesses or failures. Others are insecurities, doubts, and fears. Am I smart enough? Talented enough? Experienced enough? Like a conscientious homeowner, we should regularly take inventory of our foundation.

Build a life to last

Building and maintaining an authentic foundation is no small task, but in a world where most people are looking for the next big thing, authenticity—particularly in leaders—never goes out of style. It is always relevant. It is always worth the effort.

Like scores of others, I have adopted more Prof-isms than could be shared in a short blog post. “The measure of you as a leader is not what you do, but what others do because of what you do.” Or, “Your career is what you’re paid to do; your calling is what you’re made to do.” Or, “All people are born originals, but most die a copy.”

Prof, though, did more than just give me some clever quotes. He inspired me to leave a legacy of consequential weight. He also reminded me of the incredible imprint others have had on my life. Take a minute and shoot a text to those who have mentored you and just say thanks. Then, recommit to a life of sincerity—without wax.

~ Steve Graves

[clementines-writing-corner]

organizing thoughts + setting microgoals (ya know productive people things)

Hello friends!

Happy 2024!!

It seems like my winter break has just flown by and tomorrow my university’s spring semester starts. I haven’t had as much time to work on my story as I would have liked, but I do feel rested after this break, which is always a good thing! ᕱ__ᕱ Despite not a lot of visible progress in my original story, there have been a few things I have been thinking about and attempting to iron out in my brain which I can update you on this week.

World-Building

Before I get anywhere else and make real progress in the plot of my story, I have come to the conclusion that I need to spend some time on worldbuilding. I knew the funky little magic world and my funky little fantasy story is taking place in needed some serious work before I started writing anything, but it’s come to my attention that it needs that work now, before I continue to develop anything else. Which… sucks.

Not that I am not going to enjoy creating my own fictional world but it's going to take A LOT of work before I see real progress and I am going to have to complete that work in very small increments because I have other Important Things™ I need to be doing. Like school. Ugh!

I am very notoriously bad with time management (which is something I’m working on in therapy actually - shout out once again to my therapist who is literally a God-send), so I think my goal for next week will be to create an outline/schedule/list for what I need to get done in the realm of world-building so that I can organize my thoughts a little better and have something tangible to work on. I’ll share it here next week if I have managed to make progress on it. One of the big things I know will absolutely be making it on that list first thing, however, is developing my magic system.

Magic System

As I have mentioned briefly in a previous post, janky magic systems with little-no rules are a huge pet peeve of mine when it comes to fantasy fiction (unless it makes sense within the story, which is rare). So, I know that crafting my own magic system will take me some time because I want it to make sense, be clear, and have outline rules and limitations. 

Another thing that's important to me is that any magic system I create/include in my story, is in accordance with my own personal religious beliefs. NOW HEAR ME OUT IN THE ENTIRETY BEFORE Y’ALL GO JUDGING ME, OKAY?! I am a Christian, so nothing aligning with demons, Satan, or the occult will be happening in my story (on the side of “Good” that is). It may seem like a small or silly thing to some but it’s 100% a priority to me. However, I want to write a fantasy novel that is accessible to ALL, not just my fellow Christians, and one that doesn’t feel preachy or anything of that nature. I’m not trying to push my beliefs onto my readers. I just don’t want to compromise them in my writing. 

This is an interesting article on writing magic systems into Christian fantasy that I have been looking over the past few days if any of y'all are interested in what my magic system may look like. 

Stereotypes

I also don’t want to accidentally write any story of -isms or -phobias into my novel and I know a surprising amount of magical beings and tropes fall into the “developed from a racial stereotype” category (just look up J.K. Rowling, goblins, and Jewish stereotypes if you don’t believe me). So, I wanted to create my own magical beings without the baggage. If, in the following posts, y’all see anything that could be rude or prejudice developing as I continue to grow my story please just let me know. It’s never my intention to cause harm. As I said, I want my story to be accessible for ALL. ᕱ__ᕱ 

~*~*~

That’s pretty much it! That’s what I’ve been turning over in my head and working on in the past few weeks while in the midst of family and friends and the chaos of the holiday season. I hope to get something more substantial to give to y’all next week, but for now I’ll let you go. For my fellow students returning to school, good luck in this new semester! ᕱ__ᕱ 

And always remember, dot your j’s and cross your t’s!

 ~Clementine J. Quincey 🪷

PS. I also finally taught myself how to crochet something and spent 3 days working on a flower garland for the canopy above my bed. It is quite cute and I feel very accomplished!!

#writer #writers on tumblr #writer stuff #writer things #amature writer #amature #author #creative writing #writerscommunity #female writers #writing community #original story #fantasy worldbuilding #worldbuilding #magic #magic system #frog #rambles #ramblings #christian #christian writer #inclusivity #university #college life #school #college student #ᕱ__ᕱ #crochet

[outdoornatureministry]

true remnant

What is the true remnant and Yahwehs true people. Throughout the Bible it has been about a small group of people who served and worshiped and made covenants with the one true God. These were the Israelites and they lived among the Middle East and were given the promised land after Moses time. These people have always been persecuted for their faith and have gone through cycles of prosperity and then being under harsh governments as punishment for what they have done. I believe they have moved all over this world and realm to establish and try to go to all the nations like it says in the Bible. The holy word changes people and has done so for centuries. There has always been an element against these people and they have put false preachers and prophets into churches and trying to change the word of god and have made false doctrines and false teachings like Mormonism and these other isms that I can’t say on here that just attacked Israel. The devil has made many religions and had us fight each other about the differences and things that don’t make a lot of difference when Yahweh changes and can guide anyone back to the truth but we refuse to listen and return to his true path. The Bible clearly tells us that he gives the inspiration and many people have words to share and things that help build his true word and they are muffled. We celebrate pastors who are controlled by boards and not allowed to truly speak what Yah gives them. To many pastors and modern day people claim it’s about gods church and supporting a building when in actuality it’s about his body and his true people that come to him on their hands and knees and worship him and spend their time with him. This is not a big group of people and the Bible clearly says it’s a remnant which means very small number. Their are many claiming to be Yahwehs and have no idea what he wants or about what it says in his holy word. Yahweh knows who are his and the battles we face on a daily basis. These are the people willing to fight and be persecuted and hated for the word. They are the meek and humble servants who get out their and share god and what they have with all. These are the ones who give up everything and follows him. We have lost family and friends and jobs and who would gladly give up their very lives for the one true God Yahweh. I am one of these people and have lost everything and have been persecuted and hated for what I believe. I have been alone for most of my life and spend my time in his word and making videos and doing blogs like I am now. Yahweh is pulling the plug in this world and the day of vengeance is at hand. The world is turning completely against us and calls us the problem and the enemy. This war that just started will not stop until the very end of time when god comes down with his heavenly armies and destroys the devil and false prophet and all the people who took his mark. Yahweh has delayed things for the few people who will return to him. It will shock everyone how few people will be taken in the harpazo or rapture. Most will experience the tribulation and go through a horrible time and the other side of God will be seen and it is one of vengeance and wrath and anger and absolute anger that will consume this world and lay it desolate. You will not recognize any part of this world when yah is through. Look up the day of the lord scriptures. I would stop listening to the world and the pastors out there. You need to get into the Bible and truly read and ask for discernment . You need to fast and pray and be in sackcloth and ashes and go to god and beg for mercy because his wrath is here. I only share what he gives me and want you to go to him and give up the world now. God bless you all.

[fantasyideas1]

quotes almat

Aphorisms Necrosis of the soul and faith, optimism is a sinusitis of intuition, they do not feel a dirty trick at all, nano robots that penetrate consciousness in the form of a dream, a simulation of a fictional meaning of life, a hologram, neon, cyber paradise of illusions, libido and the human ego contains terabytes of self-deception, architecture, the image, the design of the meaning of life, in which the emptiness of pleasure develops, the biological design of the personality. Poetry You are my philia, sex fetish, love for you is a whole ism, your seduction is like an erotic massage of the penis, an aria of orgasm from delight, a note flies into the space of a philosophy of feelings in love, from attraction to you you are sticky like scotch tape, my lips and eyes stick to each a particle of your body, a powerful vibration, a vibrator, in the penis, heart and mind from falling in love, vibrations of love, in my eyes a poem of delight, magic of seduction, the whole body becomes dumb, command my Goddess, I am your sex slave, I am your sex toy, aesthetics I feel your body physically with my mind and heart, feelings of love are material, I feel every thought in love, in my head, cable and the Internet show you for days on end, The skin is as if woven from sex and precious stones, the color of lust and passion, when your body is not around, I feel nostalgic hunger for lust, porn erotic masterpiece, genital seduction tune, juicy seduction, you are my girlfriend and I feel like a trillionaire because I have you, you are the highest b The wealth of this world, there is no more expensive diamond than you, extreme adrenaline of love and lust, your body is a paradise for aesthetic sweet tooth. jokes Alimony is a budget sucker. You will swear with me, you in a small way or in a big way. Confectionery channel, it was invented by sadists. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

#quotes

[c-is-for-circinate]

Thinking today about viruses, allergies, oppression, and anti culture.

(under a cut because WHOOOPS this got long)

Racism is a virus. Homophobia, transphobia, sexism, antisemitism, ableism, etc etc etc, they are all viruses--a topic that many of us have learned a great deal about in the past year. They are ideas, yes, not literal physical diseases, but the analogy holds up. They are infectious, and often spread from person to person without anyone involved realizing they have it. They can sit latent for years, never showing up because the carrier never finds themselves in a situation where the issue comes up, only to flare up and take over when you least expect it. And they mutate, just like the flu, just like the common cold; they put on a new jacket every year and slide in undetected yet again, slip past our internal sensors and bury themselves in our brains until we go in and deal with them as best as we can.

One more thing we've learned about viruses this year is how we can fight them. The viruses of oppression are a little different because they tend to hurt the people around their carriers even more than the people they've infected (although let's talk about internalized anything-ism sometime), but in a lot of ways the attack is the same. You treat the symptoms even when you don't know how to cure the disease: we invest in respirators, antiviral treatments, hospitals; we create and sponsor programs to help those who've been hurt by various oppressions, we uplift our neighbors, we try to keep people safe from violences both big and small. You work to stop the spread: we wear our goddamn masks, we stay home when we can; we train ourselves not to say racist shit that might foster a culture of hate, we stop that guy in our office from making rape jokes, we make slurs unacceptable. You pay attention to your immune system: we seek medical attention when we experience symptoms, we get COVID tests, we talk to our doctors before the symptoms get deadly; we protest and we pay attention to the people who do, we take them seriously when they tell us that something is wrong.

You vaccinate. We train ourselves and our immune systems to recognize the thing that infects us, the thing that we fear. We try to teach our children about history, bit by little bit, on fragments of dead violence the same way we train our bodies on dead virus shells, so that someday they'll recognize the live disease when they see it. We learn about slavery and Jim Crow and the Holocaust. We tell kids bedtime stories about why hitting and bullying is bad, before we ever start teaching them the specific shapes that violence so often takes. As we get older, as we get stronger, we learn about the living stuff, all the new forms that same old virus has mutated into; we educate ourselves, we listen, we read. Just like vaccines, of course, there are anti-vaxxers and denialists shouting about how racism and sexism are already dead and they don't need any propoganda besides Fox News. Hell, just like anti-maskers, there are plenty of people screaming about how political correctness is ruining the world and they demand their right to spread their virus to anyone they can. Often these are the same people.

But we try. And make no mistake, we all of us are already infected, and just like a real virus, once you've caught it once it probably won't ever go away again--but we can prepare, and we can try to lessen the severity of our cases, and we can support our immune systems of activists and protesters and our own internal sense of this is wrong, and we can work, bit by bit, if not towards eradication (not yet, not in this world, but maybe someday in another), then at least towards control.

And then there's allergies.

An allergy is what happens when a human body's own immune system freaks out over an enemy that wasn't particularly harmful in the first place. All our immune defenses--those precious immune defenses, which work so hard to protect us against all those viral, deadly ideas--go screaming into high gear. All of that fear and fury and attack power gets brought to bear all at once, against a bit of pollen or bee venom or cat dander or peanuts, and your body is left itchy and runny-nosed and gasping--sometimes literally--as it tries to keep up. Allergies are miserable. Sometimes they're life-threatening. And the biggest danger isn't the foreign agent that triggers the allergic reaction; it's the immune system trying to fight it in the first place.

Which, yes, brings us to anti culture--but not JUST anti culture. It's a good example, a little internet-centric microcosm of the same force that drives progressives to tear bloody shreds out of moderate liberal politicians. Hell, it's the same force that enables both TERFs and the Capitol rioters. It's a combination of an immune system that points in the wrong direction, flagging the wrong thing as bad, terrifying, danger, NO, and a freaked-out response that can manifest as anything from mildly irritating to absolutely deadly.

To be clear, I am not by any means equating the scale or even the source of these things, any more than hayfever is the same as anaphylactic shock. Likewise, the sources are different. Sometimes, a disease can infect an immune system and point it in the wrong direction. (Terror of the other is the absolute cornerstone of white nationalism, and when that terror gets triggered by a harmless environmental condition like, god forbid, other people asking for rights, the allergy response can be deadly.) Other times, it's the other way around. Our internal immune systems, so well trained to protect ourselves and those around us from the insidious viral ravages of prejudice and oppression, start seeing traces of it everywhere.

And they freak out. And we suffer for it.

We talk a lot of well-deserved shit about TERFs, but it's useful to remember how much their nastiness feels to them like activism. Their immune system, trained and primed and sensitized over years of exposure to misogyny and sexism, catches the tiniest whiff of something that might seem at some point to have possibly been taken for male, and freaks out, because why is that trying to get into our system. Never mind that they're wrong. An immune system that flips out over penicillin is wrong, too. It's still trying to help, and it's still doing more harm than good trying it.

So bringing this back around to anti culture, which was absolutely where I started thinking about all of this this morning: anti culture, the terror of porn and the attempt by antis to protect themselves an other people from sexual content, is an immune response. It is a trained immune response, in people who have been taught and re-taught again and again that rape culture is a dangerous insidious virus that should be fought at all costs. And, right, there's more than a bit of 'the sexism virus infected this immune system and reprogrammed it to fight itself' involved here, but look, we are all of us infected with all of the viruses at least a little bit everywhere. If we tried to direct our immune systems to rip every last shred of -ism out of every last bit of us, we'd rip ourselves apart. Which is exactly the problem.

Porn, in and of itself, is natural. As natural as environmental pollen, and living near dogs and cats, and eating wheat or nuts or citrus fruit. It's even healthy, for a whole host of reasons that belong in another essay. And citric acid and nut-based proteins and whole grains are nutritious, and pets are physically and psychologically helpful, and being exposed to lots of different environmental substances as a child can actually help train your immune system in the first place. Porn can help us figure out what we like. It can help us figure out what we don't like. And while the processes that create it are sometimes unethical and awful, we don't condemn all dogs because puppy mills and dogfighting rings exist, even if we do have dog allergies.

What we see in anti culture is often a good-faith attempt on the part of antis to attack and subdue an environmental trigger that they read as dangerous. It's a panic attack over something that is by nature harmless or mildly harmful, blown out of proportion by the very instincts that are supposed to keep us safe. It's the response of an immune system that's been taught over years and years, by everyone from parents to school systems to the activists they look up to, that negative stimulus is to be feared, avoided, and fought. Of COURSE they're going to freak out.

And of course, early exposure to controlled amounts of allergens can help prevent later allergies from developing. Of course when kids are raised with abstinence-only education, sheltered from the very concept of sex, they're going to grow up allergic to it. (Of course they're going to try to protect other kids from the same, like worried mothers who refuse to let peanuts or wheat products or dirt near their precious babies, whose kids grow up with a whole suite of allergic triggers because their bodies never learned what was okay in the first place.) And no, that doesn't mean we hand pornography to ten-year-olds any more than we should give raw honey to an infant--but of course if our culture refuses to introduce kids to the fact that sex and desire and the inside of their own brain can be messy and silly and kinky and downright weird, we're going to have a higher rate of allergic reaction to the entire concept in adults.

I wish I had a better answer for what to do with understanding that this is what's going through so many people's brains. The best I have is a prescription for allergy-sufferers, who probably haven't read this far through this wordspew of an essay in the first place--but we all get a little hayfever once in a while, and we all sometimes run into content that makes us angry. So some thoughts on how to deal with metaphorical allergic reactions, inspired by the ways we deal with literal ones?

First: we recognize that what is happening is an allergy. The thing we're reacting to might be gross, or irritating, or even unpleasant, but the danger is not and never has been the thing itself. Whether it's triggering a response because of its similarity to an actively dangerous pathogen, or our immune system just doesn't like it, our aversion to one kind of story or another universally says more about us than about it. Luckily, we have a lot more control over our social responses than our biological ones!!! If vocal activism is our sociocultural immune system firing itself up to fight an infection that may or may not exist, then we get to tell our metaphorical white blood cells to stand down. We get to decide.

Second: we get some space. The funny thing about allergies is, while early exposure to allergens can help prevent them, re-exposing yourself to dangerous allergens after you've already developed a reaction to them can make them worse. Anaphylaxis is always more likely after someone's experienced it the first time. Repeated exposure to triggers, whether biological or psychological, can make the effects worse. So stop exposing yourself.

If something makes your throat itch every time you eat it, stop eating it. If something makes you mad every time you read it, stop reading it. Obviously this can be easier said than done in a world that's a lot worse about warning labels on stories than ingredients labels on foods, but that's why fic tags exist. And: sometimes, the croissant is delicious enough that we decide we're willing to suffer through the way the almonds make us feel, just this once. Sometimes the ship or the characterization or, hell, those other kinks that we really like are tasty enough that we'll put up with the trope we hate. We're allowed to do that. But we do it knowing there will be consequences, and we don't blame the baker when they hit.

We also don't have to blame ourselves. It sucks to be allergic to shellfish when all your friends are raving about the new seafood place. But that's not our fault any more than it's theirs.

Third: sometimes, if we need one, we go to the doctor. Or a therapist. Yes, really.

Not because there's anything really wrong with an aversion or even mild breakouts of hives, annoyance, and bitching in your friends' DMs--but it sure isn't pleasant, and sometimes your doctor might have a better solution than 'avoid it and take a Benadryl' that makes you feel a little better in the long run. And sometimes, it's not a mild breakout. Sometimes it's the kind of story that lingers with you for days, makes your skin crawl; sometimes your throat swells up and it gets hard to breathe. Sometimes we get angry enough about something we've read that we can't stand down our immune system, don't want to stop ourselves from writing that angry comment, that tumblr post, that abuse report to the mods for something that didn't actually break any rules. And that's dangerous, because when our immune response can flare out of control like that, we don't always know where and when it will happen next, and the risk of what we'll do if it happens gets way, way higher.

Sometimes it really is worth getting a second opinion. Sometimes you need somebody to tell you, "actually, it is not normal to get tingly and sweaty every time you eat potatoes." There are ways to train your brain and leash your white blood cells that I sure as heck am not expert enough to address. There are, it turns out, ways to feel better. There are ways to mitigate the damage your own well-meaning defense mechanisms might do to yourself or other people along the way.

And: we can take a deep breath when someone with an allergy to something we've baked, something we've written, something we like, is lashing out trying to protect themselves and everyone around them from something they've registered as a threat. Of course they're wrong. Yes, we told them there were tree nuts in the brownies ahead of time; yes, they chose to eat them anyway. But it can be worth reminding them and ourselves that there's a difference between "this thing is toxic" and "this harmless thing has driven my own system into a defensive response that sure makes it feel like I've been poisoned." And it can be worth reminding ourselves as well as them that sometimes, that difference can be really hard to spot.

#driveby meta attack #I guess #whoops I essay'ed #this was not meant to get this long #welp #anti discourse day

[hexpea]

Ch. 1 - Humble Yet Brave Beginnings

"It is a proud day for Marley as these Eldian graduates step forth from the safety of the school steps and into the dangerous world to further our proud country's interest." The dean shouted to the public in the main square. "Congratulations, Engineer Corps class of 847." The crowd erupted in cheers in front of the makeshift stage that stood near the shore, mostly family and friends of the graduates gathered. They had no idea what laid beyond the safety of their small town and what the Marleyan government forced their people to do. It was all in the pride and hope of becoming honorary Marleyans.

Anything to keep myself from going back to the horrible life I came from, I thought.

Without Eldians and titan shifters supplying the army, Marley would be a pathetic nation. Eldians owed nothing to Marley, at least not any more. The slaughter done by ancestors is no reason for the continued poor treatment of fellow humans. The bigger problem was....well,...quite literally a bigger problem: titans. Revolutionary researchers have been hard at work discovering what exactly is in Eldian DNA to cause titan transformations, what exactly causes this curse and what connects us all to the founder. It's a heavy load to bear as they are crossing two worlds who rarely meet peacefully: religion and science. While Marley is busy at work trying to figure out bigger and better ways to use the titan shifters (as well as the punishment of becoming a pure titan), undercover researchers are trying their best to find a cure for such a strange ailment.

Ever since I was a child, I was fascinated with the titan shifters and how powerful they were. My naïve child-self thought they were so brave as they served the country. It made me proud to be an Eldian despite the living situation. Then, at a parade celebrating a recent victory I saw the pain in their faces as they smiled and waved to the crowd. As I grew into a teen, I looked more and more into the restorationists and how I could contribute to the cause. I knew how dangerous it was and what consequences were possible, but I knew it was my destiny to bring humanity back together and to encourage Eldian equality. That's when I heard more about the research being done to eliminate the Titan problem. From my understanding, they have made some strong headway. It has something to do with the 'source of all living matter.' As a young adult, so far I have reorganized my priorities for the betterment of Marley and equality for Eldians and other trapped ethnicities. Becoming a part of the engineer corps meant I could stay close to the revolution while bettering Marley's chance of survival once the cure for 'Titan-ism' was found.

Because Marley have the power and science of the titans, they've neglected enhancing their other weapons in preparation for conflict with other nations. I've made it my goal to help protect Marley while bringing my Eldian people equality. The ultimate goal is to build something better, not enact revenge. I also had no other choice as an Eldian. Serving the country of Marley was a requirement for any type of stable living. I unfortunately failed out of the Warrior Program. Similarly to another candidate, Zeke Yeager, it wasn't necessarily about my intelligence but more so about my physical abilities. Somehow, Zeke succeeded through the warrior program and I flunked out. In all honesty, I am thankful to have failed out. With a shorter life, there was no way I could create a big enough impact to change the world around me.

"Congratulations, Lotte," General Calvi shook my hand proudly as many of the attendees began leaving. "We are so happy to have you as part of the Engineer Corps. With your help, the Marleyan military can advance without relying on the titans. You're a part of a bright future."

"Thank you, sir," I smiled happily. "Very proud to serve the country. Anything to build Marley into a strong and proud nation."

"Good girl," He nodded authoritatively. "We already have your first assignment. While I disagree with it, you'll be working directly with the warriors, specifically Yeager and Finger while the others are out on mission. I mentioned my disdain for furthering titan resources and equipment without addressing our other needs, but, of course, my pleas go unheard."

"Ah, I see," I flattened my lips in disappointment. While Calvi was a Marleyan and shared the usual ideals of other Marleyans toward Eldians, we shared similar ideas in lessening the use of titans and furthering the advancement of other tools to keep up with other nations.

"You'll start at 0700 hours to meet with the War Chief for preliminary notes on the project. Got it?"

"Yes sir," I gave a quick salute and Calvi moved onto the next graduate.

I felt my heart sink into relaxation. The hustle and bustle of graduation while also interacting with those who frown upon Eldians was quite tiresome.  I took a deep breath and looked toward the bright, blue sky. It was empty of clouds, the beaming sun providing its warmth. I smiled to myself while standing alone in the crowd.  I thought about my parents and what their thoughts may be on my graduation and future plans. They were once heavily invested in the restorationists' movement, caught quickly and transformed into pure titans and sent to Paradis. I figure that they would be proud of me and my efforts. Remembering them is what keeps me alive most days.

The next day I was up bright and early, ready to tackle my first day on the job. I wondered what the project could be about. Would it be something regarding the Cart's armor? Or would another shifter need some type of protection or tool?

I entered the War Chief's office to find the shifter, Pieck Finger, lounging about on one of the sofas in front of a thick, wooden desk where Zeke leaned back in his chair, feet propped on its surface. His face looked familiar, obviously older, from when we were all in the warrior program.  His office was a medium sized room. Bookshelves on one side of the wall, a whiskey cabinet on the other. Large windows behind his desk brought in a great amount of the light in the room. In the center of the room, the two sofas and a coffee table sat perpendicular to Zeke's desk and a small armchair facing it.

"Hello, Lotte," Pieck greeted sweetly. Her pale face, slightly blushed with happiness. "Long time, no see!"

Zeke sat silently other than clearing his throat and removing his feet from the desk, the windows behind him casted a dark shadow over his face. He seemed disinterested and bored but something about him raised a few goosebumps on my arms.

"Hi." I politely waved back to Pieck, happy to see an old friend from the program. "Shall we get started?"

"Sure thing!" She sat up. "Zeke, don't you have the original blueprints?"

"Absolutely," Zeke answered, leaning down toward the drawers in his desk and rustling through papers. "Here they are," he laid out the plans for the Panzer Unit and the Panzer artillery, "the goal is to make it more efficient, easier to be used and, preferably, at a distance."

"I see..." I looked at the fine details of the blueprint, hovering over the desk.

"We can't afford losing troops stationed atop the cart titan. If there is a possibility of them remotely controlling the anti-titan rifles and other tools it would be more beneficial. We want you to look into that possibility."

"I'll do my best. That's quite an invention you're asking for." I shook my head and looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

"Anything you can do with it would be great." Pieck encouraged me, now standing at my side and looking at the prints with me. "It's been a while since it's been upgraded, so anything will help."

"And that's the result of the government's reliance on titan shifters." I sighed, taking the paper from Zeke's desk and rolling it in my hands. "I'll need to look at this in more detail. It'll likely take me a few days but once I have a plan I'll stop by again and-"

"No, we'll all be working on this together. It's important that we understand Pieck's tools to better use them in battle. Knowing the inner-workings is crucial. We'll need to start with your explanation on the current guts of the machine. From there, we'll come up with renovation ideas together as a group." Zeke declared with a strong tone. He had grown up a lot from the last time I had seen him, stumbling on the practice field. "Plus, we have a lot to catch up on," he smiled.

"Okay..." I replied hesitantly, "then I'll need to take up a place in your office. I need a workspace." I shrugged.

Zeke motioned to the sofas and coffee table that sat between them with a small smile, "will this do?"

"It should," I sighed in exasperation, "not preferable."

The three of us began looking at the blueprint, surrounding it at the coffee table. I explained all of it's mechanisms as best as I could, it being the first time I'd ever seen how it worked.  Pieck suddenly stretched and yawned from her position.

"I don't know about you, but I need a nap." She said breathily, coming down from a big stretch. "I'll meet up with you later, don't wait up." Zeke gave a single nod and she left the office.

"I think it's an appropriate time for a break," Zeke looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, "it is two P.M. after all. Seven hours is quite a long day of work without stopping."

"Okay," I sat back from the table, relieved to no longer be staring at a bunch of organized but jumbled lines.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Zeke pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose. I nodded, awkwardly looking away from him.

"It really has. Last time I saw you, you didn't need glasses," I chuckled. The two of us were the same age, twenty-two. We grew up in the same part of the village, especially as both of our parents were hard at work with the  movement.

"Well, these aren't mine," he gave a light smirk, trying to keep the conversation light. I looked a little bit closer.

"Oh, I thought they looked a bit familiar...Ksaver," I mumbled his name. He was a great researcher. I was sure Zeke felt guilty for devouring him.

"He was a great man," Zeke looked as though he was about to choke, "taught me everything I know." I nodded in response.

"You've been a great war chief to Marley so far," I said cautiously. I had no way of knowing if Zeke was for or against the movement. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

"I have little interest in being a 'great' war chief," Zeke scoffed, getting up from the couch and heading toward the whiskey cabinet toward the opposite wall of the room. "I have bigger goals for myself...and for the Eldians." I perked up at his response. "The way we are treated is unjust, however, we cannot answer directly for our ancestors. Sterilization is the safest bet to give justice to those our ancestors have wronged. Quite honestly, we would all be better off dead but there's no use to kill what's already been born." My face dropped into a frown.

"Zeke, don't you think that's a little bit harsh?" I scrunched my face up to show my disdain. He gave a small chuckle as he filled up a glass.

"Not in the slightest. We're all mass murderers here. We don't deserve punishment for killing we didn't do, but there's no room for any more mistakes as a group. It's better we are eradicated to prevent any more of a titan problem. If we continue to be born, titans and their violent nature continue to be a threat."

"What about all of the research? Ksaver..." I nearly whined. "You have to have hope for something better."

"I lost all hope long ago," Zeke said plainly, drinking deeply from the glass, lifting his head back to do so.

"I hope to change that in you," I mumbled to myself.

"That's very heart-warming," Zeke smiled, wiping his mouth clean of whiskey with the edge of his hand. "It's not as cruel as you think."

"It's not?" I asked, eyebrow raised in speculation.

"Well, on one hand I'm not killing any Eldians, I'm simply removing their ability to have children. On the other, children are terrible brats so I'm also saving Eldians from that tedious responsibility." He chuckled proudly.

"Yeah, I don't think it's that simple." I rolled my eyes at his ignorant response. "There are plenty of Eldians out there who long for children of their own. We don't need to answer for our ancestors' past transgressions in such a manner either. There has to be a better way."

"Well, until we know that 'better way,' I'm going to try my hardest to enact the sterilization plan." Zeke put the glass on the ledge of the whiskey cabinet and returned to the sofa opposite of me.

"And how do you plan on doing that?" I scoffed, sitting back on the sofa and crossing my arms.

"What do you think Annie, Bertolt, and Reiner are up to? The Founding Titan has many abilities." Zeke continued with his proud stance, as if he had everything figured out perfectly.

"Wait...what about Marcel?" I asked, not knowing any of the details of the Paradis Island Operation.

"Well, there have been some casualties..." He looked away, trying to escape my cold stare.

"My god...does Porco know?" I asked quickly and urgently, leaning forward on the sofa. He nodded sadly.

"We received word that Marcel was taken by a pure titan who was going after the armored. Marcel sacrificed himself to save Reiner," he explained, "if we ever had to lose a titan...the jaw would be it."

"We shouldn't have to lose anyone." I whispered to myself, pained at the loss.

"In a perfect world," Zeke shrugged, "there was at least some victory when Bertolt kicked a hole in one of the walls. However, with some complications as of late the reclamation may take longer than anticipated."

"Complications?" I asked, now curious on the current expedition.

"There was a false monarchy involved, lots of small details," he waved his hand, dismissing the details, "the important thing is that the mission isn't over because of that complication. Annie, Bertolt, and Reiner will find a way."

"Hmm...okay, and with the founding titan's special abilities, you'll be able to sterilize all of us?" I asked, skeptical of such a capability.

"Yes, we're still learning more about the abilities, even the abilities of the current titans we possess. Who knows what surprises lay in store?" He lifted his eyebrows enthusiastically.

"Hmm..." I sighed, staring out the window dreamily, now disinterested in the topic.

"Things've really changed since we were kids," Zeke spoke up tenderly out of the new pause of silence. "I remember the days, keeping up with you at the back of the pack during our training." I giggled to myself, recalling the 'good' old days.

"The funny thing is, it hasn't been that long. We're still young," I smiled, turning my head back in his direction.

"Well...I'm on a time limit so I feel as though things are speeding by a lot quicker than they seem." He looked down at his hands resting in his lap. He still had many years left, but years pass like minutes. "You must be grateful to have failed out of the program."

"Mostly. I feel like I could use my time better," I agreed, "it would have been cool to have such power, but with such a strict deadline I want to be of a better help to those around me for a longer period of time."

"I guess it can be kind of 'cool'," he chuckled at my phrasing. "We're slowly learning that I may have the power to control pure titans, something they've never seen any beast titan do. It's strange how similar it is to some of the founding titan's abilities."

"That is interesting," I agreed quietly, returning my gaze to the large windows behind Zeke's desk, leaning back on the sofa and propping my legs up on the free cushion, carefully keeping my boots off of the fabric.

"You seem distracted," he pointed out, "anything on your mind?"

"I just wish that there were less violent solutions to our problems," I rolled my eyes over in his direction, keeping my poise toward the window, "when you brought up our childhood it really just threw me off."

"You and me both," he sighed, "we were kids who didn't know any better and we're thrown into situations that we didn't ask for thanks to our predecessors. We can't write our own futures."

"Yet," I added, "we can't write them yet, but I'll be damned if it doesn't happen in my lifetime... I'll die trying to bring freedom and equality to our people."

#zeke yeager #zeke jaeger #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #zeke yeager smut #zeke jeager smut

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

13. Chapter Nine: Mega big brain boy ✨

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Masterlist of the AU✨

🌸

Yesterday was wild. It was truly wild personified. Your friends and Seonghwa's friends mingled together to create, as Yeosang kept mentioning, chaos multiplied. 

Despite the loud talking, heavy eating, after-dinner meeting and dramatic goodbyes under the influence of alcohol, (No one has yet confessed who switched Cola with Alcohol. Hence, the appearance of bold Jongho) the time spent was the most fun you've had since college life began. 

It was fun but it was tiring staying up late.

The only thing that occupied your mind today was the thought of comfortable sheets putting you to sleep in your bed.

Currently, you're thinking about the same but with different emotions, specifically regret. 

"Why are you making a face like that? This is the fourth time you've zoned out today." Seonghwa's question pulls you out of your trance. 

You two wrapped the daily studio teaching a few minutes ago and the next occupants of the recording studio showed up when you were leaving. As Seonghwa conversed with them, you decided to text Yeri, who delivered you the news, shattering your napping plans. 

Why today, of all days, today I forgot my key? 

You rub your eyes and place the phone in your pocket. "You've been counting?" 

"Well, you're the only person here I am supposed to pay attention to. So yes, I've been counting. What's up?" He asks as you two begin walking down the stairs. 

Groaning, you push your hair back into an aggressively tight ponytail. "I forgot my dorm keys, I wanted to nap but now I need to pretend to study in the library while I complain loudly in my mind." 

He raises a brow, hands fishing out car keys from his pocket. "Why don't you just drink your deathly beverage? Doesn't it keep you all buzzed and active?" 

You stop in front of the building entrance with a smug expression. "Oh, my deathly beverage for which I attended the beverage addiction convention?" 

Looking down, he shakes his head. "Do you want to grab something to eat?" You expected a snarky or teasing remark but what is delivered surprises you for a moment. 

"Together?" The thought of just the two of you sharing a meal is enough for your heart to beat a little faster than usual.  

The time spent in the studio mostly consists of him correcting mistakes and answering your confused questions.

The initial embarassment is only subtly present. His playful comment are mostly absent when he's explaining what Hongjoong has already well explained to you. His presence is comfortable.

When among your friends there's always someone (mostly Mingi) chiming in now and then but this is the first time since you've met that you'll be spending time with each other. 

Frankly, you also don't know how to act around everyone with him when even sneezing is considered giggling. You two haven't exactly acknowledged openly about your high school crush on him other than easy, playful conversation you two engage in quite a lot, whether texting or talking. 

"No, we'll be sitting on seperate tables." He begins walking towards his car. You had half-expected an answer like that. 

"Really? That sounds great, at least I don't have to put up with your nagging." Arriving by his side, you comment with a side eye. 

He offers you a deadpan expression. "Didn't you listen to what Yeosang said? I'm actually that clueless. That open discussion about me, remember." 

"Are you really? I have receipts of your messages admitting how you find my reactions 'cute'." You tap your pocket, contaning the source of evidence, your phone. 

The confidence comes when with him without you having to muster up any.

Seonghwa unlocks his car, a small hint of smile on his lips. "Okay, let's continue this conversation while eating." 

This boy. 

"Are you really that unphased? Are you really that clueless? Teach me your ways." 

He opens the door to the passenger's seat. "I'll feed you instead." 

You place your hands on your chest, followed by a dramatic expression. "Wow, you're amazing at deflecting." 

Seonghwa places a hand on his hip and that's your cue to get inside before losing your free meal ticket. 

You'd rather eat with Seonghwa any day instead of pretending to study at the library with droopy eyes.

🌸

After a ten minutes ride to a small and cozy restaurant, you two are seated in the chatter filled environment with two servings of soup in front of you loaded with vegetables, meat and noodles.  

He arranges the spoons for both of you.

"Better than greasy food that will make you more sleepy." He sips a spoonful and an instant satisfaction takes over his features.

You chuckle. "Oh my god, you're really a mom material---" The comment is instantly regretted as you taste the refreshing soup, enough to widen your eyes. 

He slurps the noodles and then turns to you with a victorious smile. "You develop motherly instincts when you hang out with children." 

"Children?" You're listening to him but the soup definitely has a majority of your attention. "Oh, you mean the guys?"

"All the seven of us are uniquely handful," The smile is still ever present on his lips. 

Even though you haven't spent much alone time with him, you can still detect the warmth filled, selfless nature he had back then and still has it within him now.

That was one of the main reasons you were attracted to him. 

Okay, not now (Y/N), let's not make it awkward. 

You take a big bite of the juicy, broth soaked meat. "You're still as initiative and kind as I remember." Speaking with much difficulty, you hold up your hand in front of your lips, "But I think something went wrong somewhere and you developed the quality of enjoying making fun of innocent girls like me." 

He offers you a tissue with his trademark, unphased expression. "I am actually that clueless." He shrugs. 

You snatch the tissue and wipe the corner of your lips. "Yeah, sure." 

He laughs at the look on your face. "What? You can't take a little teasing from your senior?" 

You throw up your hands in false frustration. "Oh my god, stop asserting your age kink!" 

"It's not a kink!" He says defensively. 

"Yes, sure. Mingi is Mingi but you, you are something else!" You say the statement, knowing that he understands the meaning behind it and begin sipping the remaining broth.

He too, downs the broth in one shot. "What am I?"

There it is, that amused and knowing glint in his eyes and the smirk he's attempting to hide. 

"You're..I don't know, whatever. Seventeen year old Seonghwa would never do this to me" You bite your tongue after delivering the statement.

He crosses his arms below his chest. "Seventeen year old Seonghwa was actually clueless." 

You point a finger at him with an exaggerated smirk. "Ha! You are basically saying that twenty-one year old Seonghwa isn't!" 

He places his head on his hands, shoulders shaking with gentle laughter. "(Y/N) if you keep reacting like that, do you really think I can stop?" 

Your expressive gesture shrinks. "You know what, I understand now." You hold up your hands in defeat. 

"No, don't stop now. We are finally opening up and talking." He gives you an encouraging nod. 

"Oh, don't trick me now. My eyes are about to roll back into my head." Your fingers undo the ponytail to let your hair breath. 

Sleep has abandoned your senses long ago but only now you realise how energized you're feeling.

"Fifteen year old (Y/N) would never." The innocent face of his doesn't do justice to the way he is speaking. 

"Hey!" You protest.

Wow, I sure react to everything he says. 

"Fine, fine. I'll stop now but If it ever gets beyond the limit, tell me." He assures with an honest expression. 

God, you cannot be teasing one minute and be kind the other, no, don't do this Park Seonghwa. 

You huff out a sigh and lean into your palms. "It is harmless anyway but you're too good at it and sometimes you are something else."

He mirrors your posture. "Yes, (Y/N), so tell, What am I? What is something else?" 

Your face falls into your palm and you hear his soft chuckles. 

Not again, Park Seonghwa, not again. 

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: He make fun of you, he tease you but mostly importantly, he feed you 🙏🏻

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#ateez #ateez social media au #ateezsmau #ateez sm au #ateez text au #ateez fake texts #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #kpop

[autisticchicc]

Unstructured Autism Rant

A/N: For COVID reasons, mask is purely metaphorical in this piece, not an actual face mask, the work scenario was something that happened pre-COVID.

Trigger Warnings: In-depth descriptions of autism-related struggles and meltdowns.

Disclaimer: This is my personal experience with autism, that is not to say that this is the experience of every person with ASD.

“Have I solved your issue today?” I ask the customer on the other end of the phone. I have; I don’t know why I’m asking this. The customer confirms I have, and I wish them goodbye, a good day, and thank you for calling the business. I don’t care if they have a good day, and I why on earth would I thank them for calling us? The entire interaction went on for far too long for my liking thanks to small talk and the customer pushing pointless information about themselves onto me. He told me he was sketching by the riverside, but why do I need to know about that? How do I respond to a piece of information that does nothing to or for me? Upon hanging up, I breathe a sigh of relief. The mask slips off my face slightly as I rub my temples.  

The relief is short-lived, as one of my co-workers comes over to my desk to talk about something. I take a deep breath and pull the mask back on properly before forcing myself to engage enthusiastically in this conversation. I don’t know this co-worker that well, I know nothing about how she talks, her personality, or her humour, only that I have a huge margin for error in this conversation. I concentrate intensely, trying desperately to make sense of her rapidly changing facial expressions and knowing when it’s my turn to talk. After interjecting at the wrong time on several occasions, I give up and just respond meekly when there’s an obvious gap. I feel embarrassed and awkward, and when she walks away, I kick myself. Why is it so hard to have a simple conversation? I’ve yet to make any friends at this job, and I don’t think I ever will at this rate.

I swivel back to face my two screens and lament the lack of a blue light filter on this software. My eyes ache, and the dog (yeah, don’t ask) on the upper level of the open plan office keeps barking. The occasional trilling of a phone irritates me more than usual as the late afternoon sun glares through the floor to ceiling windows at my photosensitive eyes. I can’t close the blinds because my co-workers love the sun, but I’m rapidly approaching a meltdown thanks to overstimulation, exhaustion, and following vague instructions all day. It feels as though every piece of sensory stimuli is stabbing at my eyes and ears. At the end of my shift I clock out and leave without saying goodbye to anyone. I don’t know them well enough to feel comfortable going out of my way to say anything in the first place.

Upon exiting the building, I cover my ears with my big headphones, the relief that washes over me is immense. All those invasive sounds are gone now, and I can listen to whatever I want. I still feel on edge, still teetering close to a meltdown, so I choose not to worsen it by listening to something that would fuel my anger. Sometimes it’s necessary, sometimes I desperately need to hear the pained screams of Pete Steele, the aggressive guitars and lyrics of Body Count. But today, I need something that isn’t going to give me the encouragement to punch the first person that triggers my rage.

For me, music is transformative and transportive. When I listen to particular songs with noise-cancelling headphones, it’s allows me to go somewhere in my imagination while my body moves to my real destination on autopilot. I decide on an uplifting song by The Knocks and Big Boi, Big Bills. It’s a song that makes me feel like a character in a movie that has just moved to a new city and is pursuing an exciting new life. To an extent that’s sort of true for me, minus the excitement and plot armour. Either way, it’s an uplifting song for me. So much so in fact, that I listen to it on repeat all the way home. If something interrupts the song, like an announcement on the tube or having to pause it, I have to restart it or it’s not the same.

When I eventually arrive home, the transformation happens. The moment my bedroom door closes, and I turn my headphones off, it begins. The outcome of this transformation can be vastly different depending on how my day went. It might be that it was a successful day socially, so I leave my phone out of sight and silently bury myself in a hobby for hours in order to recharge. It might be that the mask comes off and I begin to scream and sob, breaking anything I can to stop myself from self-injuring, burying the heels of my hands into my eyes to block any light. The transformation varies, but it is always the result of the same thing: suppressing who I am.

Much of being autistic and being forced to operate in a society catered to neurotypical people, for me, is suppressing my natural instincts and behaviour. Even when I have a positive day socially, it’s often contingent on how well I assimilated with other neurotypical people in that particular interaction. This is frustrating because not only am I exhausted because hardly anyone accommodates for me, I am also measuring the success of my day on other peoples’ standards. Many of my interpersonal relationships also operated that way until fairly recently, I was forced to behave and communicate the way that other people expected me to rather than what felt natural to me. There is only so many places and so much time I can maintain this act for, and so I was forced to simply cut those friendships off. I am no longer willing to negotiate my needs with people that clearly don’t like me enough to respect my disorder.

The friends I keep are mindful, lovers of the eccentric, embracing that which is different and persecuted for it. Often times I find that the people closest to me also have parts of their identity that mean they must also wear a mask of sorts when moving through society, be it racist society, patriarchal society, or queerphobic society. Our arms interlink on the fringes of an abstract hierarchy, turning away from the status quo and pursuing a life in truth and diversity. One day I’d love for everyone to be able to live authentically, for discrimination, isms and phobias to fade away into the past. I don’t see it happening in my lifetime, or perhaps ever, but I hope it does eventually.

In an ideal world, I would only interact with those aforementioned friends and no one else, but as we’ve established, that is not the world we live in. The reality is, I almost never get to interact with people who accommodate for me. I deal with people touching me without permission which makes my skin crawl, forcing me to take my headphones off when I’m fending off a meltdown, managers who don’t give me the specific step-by-step instructions I need, classmates who don’t understand that I don’t talk because I’m too shy, not because I’m unfriendly, lecturers that forget I can’t operate well in group work and can’t be in classrooms with harsh, fluorescent lights… The list is endless. Even going to the shop is a struggle, because the employees have no way to know. Although Tesco’s have been considerate and ‘progressive’* enough to introduce sunflower lanyards (https://www.tesco.com/help/invisibledisability/), most stores have absolutely no assistance in place for customers with hidden disabilities. I just have to hope that they don’t speak to me and that I don’t end up getting overwhelmed and having to ask anyone for help.

In a lot of ways, this pandemic has meant that I can avoid quite a lot of the scenarios that would usually cause me stress. I no longer work (admittedly, this causes more stress than it relieves), I don’t have to attend class in person, there is little to no in-person socialising, family events are cancelled, seasonal holidays are cancelled, queuing and crowding is no longer allowed (without distancing), etc. That has all been excellent and a relief. But on the flip side, it has given rise to a whole host of new problems. I hate being on camera or speaking in online lessons, there is no way for me to remind the teacher subtly I can’t do group work, masks trigger heat-related meltdowns for me, the financial instability of being unemployed has been a huge stressor, and the lack of government support is utterly enraging. 

Overall, it’s been a huge adjustment. The job that I talked about my experience with at the beginning of this rant is long gone now, so many things have changed. I have never dealt well with change, but this year has forced me to. In some ways I suppose you could say this is a positive development, exposure therapy is best at times. I just wish it had been more on my terms and not at the hands of a viral pandemic. 

#autism #asd #meltdown #sensory overload #aspergers #autism spectrum disorder #aspie #aspiegirl #women with autism #autism at work #autism at school #school #university #autistic enby #covid #covid19

[samiha-kabir]

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99 names of allah

99 Names of Allah -Part 4 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

Assalamu Alaikum,

So, In the Previous Post We covered” Seeking Dua with Asma ul Husna till Ism “Al-Muhyi (The Maintainer of life) ” Which was number 60 . So Here is the Fourth Part of the Series where we will cover few more names,In Sha Allah.

Check Previous Post in this Series –

99 Names of Allah -Part 3 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

99 Names of Allah -Part 2 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

99 Names of Allah -Part 1 (Seeking help with Asma ul Husna ) Series

Part 4 – 99 Names of Allah

61 :Al-Mumeet – “The Inflictor of Death “

Ya Allah ! We Know that Only you are the Creator of Death, The Destroyer, The One who renders the living dead .

O Allah ! Do not let us die until you are Pleased with Us .

O Allah ! Make us Die Only as a Muslim

O Allah ! Give us the strength to read Sahadah at our death bed.

62 : Al-Hayy – ” The Eternally Living One”

O Allah ! We Know that you are The Ever-Living

O Allah, Al-Hayy, we know that You are the One who is everlasting and perfect alive.

O Allah ! Bless us with reliance on You, make us realize Your Perfection of Life and so of all Your attributes and guide us to live by them.

O Allah ! Inspire us to turn to You only and grant to us eternal life in the Gardens of Jannatul Firdaws, ameen!

63 : Al-Qayyoom – The Self-Subsisting One

O Allah ! We Know that you are the One who remains and does not end.

O Allah ! Al-Qayyoom, we know that You are the One who is self-existing and sustaining all. Bless us with humility in our worship and dealing with others and make us of those who help the needy and strive in the cause of Islam.

O Allah ! Enable us to practice qiyaam ul layl, often make us remember standing before You and give us a longing to meet You and actions that bring us closer to You, ameen!

64 : Al-Wajid -The Pointing One

O Allah, You are The Perceiver, The Finder,

O Allah, You are Al Wajid. You are Rich

O Allah ! You are the Perciever

O Allah ! Help Us

65 : Al-Majid -The Glorious One

O Allah, Al-Maajid ,All glory belongs to you .

O Allah, Al-Majeed, Help us in understanding and acting upon Your glorious Book and make us of the dhaakireen, those who remember You continuously with a beautiful glory and praise.

O Allah ! Make us respectful to others, keep granting us honor through Islam and bestow upon us the honour of gazing upon Your Countenance in Paradise, ameen!

66 : Al-Wahid -The Unique

O Allah, Al-Waahid we know that You are the One and Only.

O Allah, Al-Waahid we know that You are the One and Only.

O Allah ! Grant us correct and unshakable belief in Your Oneness, allow us to truly understand and appreciate this Beautiful Name, act upon it and spread the message of Your Oneness to others.

O Allah ! Make us reflect your Creation and protect and forgive us from all types of shirk, ameen!

67 : Al-Ahad -The Sole One

O Allah, Al-Ahad we know that You are the One and Only.

O Allah, Al-Ahad we know that You are the Only.

O Allah ! Bless us with pure intentions and help us to do those deeds most pleasing to You.

O Allah ! Guide us to understand, live, and die by the shahada so the fire cannot touch us, and we will enter Your everlasting gardens, ameen!

68 : As-Samad- The Supreme Provider

O Allah, As Samad we know that only you are the Provider

O Allah ! you are The Eternal, The Independent .

O Allah ! you are The Master who is relied upon in matters and reverted to in ones needs.

O Allah ! Provide us with halal Income and let us live a righteous life.

69 : Al-Qaadir – The Able One

O Allah, Al-Qadir we know that you are Omnipotent.

O Allah, Al-Qaadir we know that Your power is perfect.

O Allah ! Adorn us with patience and contentment with your decree and help us inspire others to do so.

O Allah ! Help us to turn to You and to consult You in big and small matters, and enable us to seek Your forgiveness in abundance. Ameen!

70 : Al-Muqtadir – The Powerful One

O Allah, Al-Muqtadir we know that Your power enforces all decrees.

O Allah, Al-Muqtadir we know that Your power enforces all decrees.

O Allah ! Guide us to practise our belief in your All-ability and capability, make us grateful for all aspects of your decree for us.

O Allah ! save us from arrogance and adorn us with tranquil hearts who remember you abundantly, ameen!

71 : Al-Muqaddim – The Expediting One

O Allah, Al-Muqaddim we know that you are the Promoter

O Allah ! you are the Expediter, The Promoter .

O Allah ! you are the One who puts things in their right places.

O Allah you make ahead what you wills and delays what you wills.

72 : Al-Mu’akhkhir – The Procrastinator

O Allah, Al-Muakhir , we know that you are the Delayer

O Allah ! you are the Delayer, the Retarder .

O Allah ! you are the One who puts things in their right places.

O Allah you make ahead what you wills and delays what you wills.

73 : Al-Awwal – The Very First

O Allah, Al-Awwal we know that You are the One without beginning nor end.

O Allah, Al-Awwal we know that You are the One without beginning nor end.

O Allah ! Guide us to put You and seeking Your pleasure first and foremost in our belief and our deeds.

O Allah ! Help us to give priority to our prayers, adorn us with love and closeness to Your Book and make us of the saabiqoon, ameen!

74 : Al-Akhir – The Infinite Last One

O Allah, Al-Aakhir we know that You are the last One who will remain when everything perishes.

O Allah, Al-Aakhir we know that You are the last One who will remain when everything perishes.

O Allah ! Bless us with love and eagerness to meet You and make us remind ourselves that we will stand before You so we can strive to do good.

O Allah ! Enable us to do deeds whose rewards will continue, counting for us after our death, and give us a good ending, ameen!

75 : Az-Zaahir – The Perceptible

O Allah, Az-Zhaahir we know that You are the Manifest and High.

O Allah, Az-Zhaahir we know that You are the Manifest and High.

O Allah ! Make both our inward and outward good, guide us in reflecting on Your signs around us in a productive way.

O Allah ! Bless us with sincerity and make us of those who are able to gaze at Your Countenance in the Hereafter, ameen

76 : Al-Baatin – The Imperceptible

O Allah, we know that You are Al-Baatin – The Imperceptible

O Allah ,You are The Hidden .

O Allah ! You are the One that nothing is above you and nothing is underneath you , hence you exists without a place.

O Allah ! You are The Exalted .

O Allah ! Your Existence is obvious by proofs and you are clear from the delusions of attributes of bodies.

77 : Al-Waali -The Holder of Supreme Authority

O Allah, we know that You are the Holder of Supreme Authority

O Allah, Al-Waliy, we know that You are the most loving Guardian.

O Allah ! Make us of your awliyaa and guide us to complement our obligatory acts of worship with abundant voluntary deeds.

O Allah ! Bless us with righteous friends, make us pious friends to other believers and assist us in turning to You only as our best Ally at all times, ameen!

78: Al-Muta’ali – The Extremely Exalted One

O Allah, we know that You are the Extremely Exalted One

O Allah, Al-Muta’aali, we know that You are the Supreme.

O Allah ! Give us knowledge of and lead us to prioritize the deeds most pleasing to You and assist us in calling others to You.

O Allah ! Adorn us with firm belief in your Highness and admit us to the Highest Paradise without Reckoning, ameen!

79: Al-Barr – The Fountain-Head of Truth

O Allah, Al-Barr, we know that You are the source of all that is good.

O Allah, Al-Barr, we know that You are the source of all that is good.

O Allah ! Adorn us with the characteristics of the abraar (righteous ones), guide us in good conduct in each company we are in, and make our righteousness a way to lead us to Your Paradise, ameen!

80 : At-Tawwaab – The Ever-Acceptor of Repentance

O Allah, Al-Barr, we know that You are the source of all that is good.

O Allah ,You are the most forgiving,the most Merciful

O Allah ! you are the One who grants repentance to whoever you will among your creatures .

Ya Allah ! you accept repentance . So Accept my Repentance and cleanse my heart .

Ameen !

If You are following our Blog , Do not miss the next post in which we will cover some more Names of Allah swt ,In Sha Allah . If You have not yet subscribed, Do subscribe. Jazak Allahu Khair .

Get all the duas from the series in a pdf form

This post was last modified on May 3, 2021 2:06 am

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Shafeeka Samsodien

May 22, 2018 at 10:30 am

Aslm! I don’t see a link to series 5 of the 99names of Allah. It only goes to series 4 which is until no.80

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[glapplebloom]

Featuring Trixie’s Future Best Friend Starlight Glimmer!

Welcome to Twilight’s New Castle: where all her friends, including Spike, has a throne. And once all seven of them sit down, they get access to the Friendship Map: Where it summons ponies based off their cutie marks (or face) to go to a location to solve a Friendship Problem. And the first problem involves all six of our ponies.

Spike isn’t going because the map didn’t call him but he’s got stuff to do. Specifically hang out with Big Mac and talk about Hoofball. And this marks the first time we’ve found out about their friendship that will become a factor in not only Discord’s life but also in Big Mac’s Love Life.

When they get to the location, they find a small town where there doesn’t seem to be a problem. The only thing is that they all have the same equal sign cutie mark. Of the six, only two of them have strong opinions of the situation: Fluttershy thinks its really nice while Pinkie Pie doesn’t trust them. They’re not happy smiles, they’re forceful smiles.

When they enter the village, the villagers lead them to Starlight Glimmer, the leader and future student of Twilight Sparkle. Her scheme is simple: remove the Cutie Marks of those who live here so that everyone is equal. They even have a song and dance that honestly after hearing it should of had the other four questioning this situation.

Of course, everyone by now talked about how flawed this plan is. After all, Equality does not mean Harmony. You can fight for equal rights but until people actually respect those differences you’re not going to have a lot of progress. Which is why I want to mention an old Cartoon called Peace on Earth, a 1939 MGM Cartoon.

It shows the fall of Mankind as despite eliminating the thing that made them different, found more things to keep themselves apart. Even when there were only two people left, the fact that they weren’t the other was enough for conflict. But when the animals took over the planet, they took the words of a book about peace (a bible of some kind) and rebuild the world to a peaceful place where they all live in peace.

If this was Starlight’s ideal it would never work when her village has Pegasi, Unicorns and Earth Ponies, but it wasn’t. She had a grude with Cutie Marks because Singing Killed Her Grandma a Cutie Mark stole her Best Friend. And thanks to Sunburst being ashamed he was a Celestia School Drop Out, likely was hard to find so she couldn’t reach out to him.

Back from the Future, outside Pinkie Pie nobody seems to notice anything wrong. That is until Sugar Belle, another future important character, ask them to meet her in the basement secretly. It is there that they discover that despite the outward happiness, they really miss being themselves. So Twilight figured that giving them back their Cutie Marks is the key to solving this problem.

Sadly they showed their hand and Starlight uses it to remove their Cutie Marks, which doubles as a spell that represses their special talents and even personalities. So Applejack loses her Apple-isms, Pinkie Pie is almost Maud levels, and Rarity, despite her Cutie Mark being Gem Finding, lost her fashion taste.

Part 2 begins with them imprisoned and under a constant barrage of Propaganda. But despite removing Twilight’s magic for talent, her book smarts are still in play. She figures that if someone pretends to conform, they can be freed and release their cutie marks. That person if Fluttershy, who was already one foot a Villager before the whole betrayal.

After a sacrifice play from Party Favor, and later that night, Fluttershy tries to go to the Cutie Mark Cave but chickens out. Good thing too, because she discovers that not only does Starlight Glimmer possesses their Cutie Marks, but she herself still has hers. While she does blame Cutie Marks for removing Sunburst from her life, she still knows she needs the magic to pull this off.

The next day, the Mane Six goes on the attack. Starlight dodged an attempt to reveal her cutie mark but a drop did connect, leading to the reveal to the public. So once again, Cutie Marks took her “friends” away from her. Cue chase scene featuring the four named villagers chasing Starlight since the Mane Six still don’t have their cutie marks.

Though I am curious, of these four, how come Sugar Belle is the Shawn Michaels to these Marty Jannettys. I know in universe is Big Mac coming to this village and meeting Sugar Belle. And meta wise her being a baker would fit well in the Apple Family. But why did the writers choose her?

Thanks to these four, our six got their cutie marks back but Starlight Glimmer escaped, only to return in background cameos and the season finale. It ends with them seeing how Our Town is thriving now that they can finally be themselves and a mission completed. Overall, a very enjoyable episode and one that give a lot of stuff to talk about especially after the series is over. Makes me wonder how the rest of the season would go if they were stuck like that.

As for the canon changes, you can see the original review here for that.

#mlp review #MLP Revisit #Green Lantern Apple Bloom #season 5

[vannahfanfics]

My Hero Academia Oneshots Masterlist

If you prefer Ao3, here is the link to my collection there!

Romance Oneshots

Bakugo/Uraraka: The Healing Properties of Oolong Tea | Quiet Strength | The Lovers’ Plum | If Love Was a Color

Bakugo/Mina: It’s A Date

Bakugo/Kirishima: Crazy, Stupid Love | Putting Two and Two Together

Bakugo/Jiro: Urban Harmony

Bakugo/Nejire: Little Drummer Boy

Izuku/Uraraka: Midnight Munchies | Electric Love | Double Dating and Other Extreme Sports

Izuku/Melissa: A Black-Tie Affair

Izuku/Bakugo: Reminiscent | Falling For You

Kirishima/Uraraka: The Healing Properties of Apple Beef Stew

Kirishima/Mina: Heavenly Bodies

Kirishima/Todoroki: A Manly Inquisition

Iida/Momo: Heartstrings | In the Lantern Light

Todoroki/Ochako: Heart Games

Todoroki/Yaoyorozu: In My Arms | Face Your Fears | Worthy | Atlas and Pleione | Lovesick

Sero/Ochako: Waste the Night Away

Sero/Mina: Limited Edition | Alone | Drops of Jupiter

Sero/Setsuna: Scary Things

Ojiro/Hagakure: Sentimentality

Kaminari/Jiro: Stereo Hearts | Smooth | Pikachu, I Choose You! | The Best Gifts in Life

Kaminari/Kirishima: Champion of Chicken

Tokoyami/Ibara: Weddings and Wisteria Trees

Tokoyami/Ochako: Of Comfort and Cup Noodles

Aoyama/Mina: In Love With a Shooting Star

Awase/Yaoyorozu: Off the Beaten Path | The Wonder of Small Things | Just Like the Movies | Making Up For Lost Time

Monoma/Pony: Shibuya Scramble

Sen/Setsuna: Picture Perfect

Tetsutetsu/Mina: Chemical Attraction

Shinso/Kendo: Hormones

Shinso/Ochako: Raincheck

Mirio/Nejire: Spoiled

Natsuo/Nejire: Notice Me, Nejire-chan!

Aizawa/Ms. Joke: Fool Me Once, Fool Me Twice | A Dash of Cream and Sugar

Aizawa/Nemuri: Dance Partners

Present Mic/Ragdoll: Fifteen Minutes

Hawks/Fuyumi: Two-Toned | Light Up My World | What You Deserve | Bird-Isms | The Hawk and the Turtledove | Bird of Paradise

Shigaraki/Miruko: Roommate Troubles

General Oneshots

Izuku & Bakugo: Rivalry | Can’t Go Back | Heroes Rising | Heavenly River | Katsuki’s Little Helper | Harbinger of Doom

Bakusquad: Good Morning, Sunshine | Mama Mina | Dog Days

Dekusquad: Tsuyu’s Extra-Special Snow Day

Shinso & Various: Tiny Terror | Playing Vigilante

Eri & Various: Hushabye Mountain | A Bright New Year | Song of the Sea | A Fairy’s First Flight | Doting | Holiday Traditions

Class 1-A: Time of Need | Hanta Sero and the Goddess of Fun | Happy Birthday, Mina! | One Good Turn Deserves Another | A Lesson in Hair-Brained Schemes | When You Fall, I’ll Be There | The Sacred Art of Hamburger-Making | What Heroes Do | Coexistence | A Hero’s Heart | Of Wrinkled Trousers and Paper Crafts

Big Three: Mirio and Tamaki’s Merry Little Christmas

Todoroki Family: Halcyon Days | Fallen Stars

Pro Heroes: Publicity Stunts | Where am I? | On the Airwaves | Drinks on Me | But War’s a Game

Mentors & Mentees: Ruffled Feathers | The Measure of a Good Hero |  Happy Birthday, Izuku! | Teenage Angst

League of Villains: Lucky | I’ve Got These Scars, But I Think They’re Pretty | Shadows and Light | Bloodlust

Other Villains: Abreaction

Vigilantes: The Crawler’s Day Off |  Welcome to Naruhata! 

Rooftop Gang: Live Like You Were Dying | Head in the Clouds | The Road Behind, The Road Ahead

Crossover Oneshots

NARUTO:

Fight Fire With Fire (Dabi & Itachi Uchiha)

Our Springtime of Youth! (Izuku Midoriya & Rock Lee)

The Blessings of Wisteria Blossoms (Momo Yaoyorozu & Sakura Haruno)

For more fandoms, see my Table of Contents. For all requestable fandoms, see here.

#my hero academia #mha #my hero #boku no hero academia #bnha #kacchako #bakuraka #huwumi #serochako #seromina #momowase #tokobara #nejibaku #bakuneji #toojiro #kamijiro #kamijirou #todomomo #tokochako #mirineji #nejimiri #awamomo #minasero #bakumei #kirichako #bakushin #kamiida #bakumono #meilissa #bakulissa

[charlctterussell]

Rules

Writer is 25+

In turn I prefer to write with writers who are older, you don’t have to necessarily be over 25 but, certainly and definitely older than 18. I won’t interact with anyone younger than 18 and if you are over, and don’t conduct yourself in an adult manner, the same will be said for that as well. I have no tolerance for bullying or shaming of any kind, and my tolerance for childish bullshit is like < 0.5 I’m not here for that, and I think everyone would agree that we all come here to explore creative things together with relaxation in mind and to have fun doing that. Although I know the cest pool of nonsense-isms accompanying the role-play world is a tale as old as time, but I will be selective in the company I keep here socially and collaboratively in that regard for my own peace and sanity.

Writing Style

Novella / Multi-Para

I really am such a sucker for detail, like seriously, if you want to capture my heart — detail me up mah friends! Having said that, I do again prefer collaborating with writers who write in the Novella and Multi-Para style as well in threads. I will also write in para too though because guess what? TONS of detail can be added in para bits just as well. But I get ambitious sometimes and descriptive, so BUYER BEWARE. Im really down to write and play in any length but when it comes to more serious scenes / pieces as far as threads — I do prefer my partners be the same in that regard or at least amped and enjoy something more than para. As a general rule here: Role-play is a dance between two people, sometimes more, and of course in that partnership you have to align for things to flow and the magic happen. Which I think is what we all strive for— really being able to indulge our imaginations collaboratively with like-minded partners. I have also always been a writer who puts a lot of thought and detail into the breaths of life big and small that live in words for my muse, so it’s important for me to sync up in that way for what I’m receiving as well. It’s also important for me to have chemistry with my partners cause it again, is role-play.😘That being said, I LOVE DRABBLINGS OF ALL SHAPES AND SIZES IN PLAY, so please feel free to send/ tag me anything your heart desires. Like nothing is off limits there. — I live for mentions, and kinda inhelpably am a social butterfly so I really dig and will reply, and play, with any bit of back and forth you feel inspired to throw at me.

Communication

please do it. Please? If I’m following you back, it means I want to write with you and work with you. That also means talk to you too. If you have a question or kinda wonder about anything, anything at all, just message me. I love connecting with people, and happen to be super nice also. So, please don’t ever be afraid to connect and slip into my ims. I also do the disco, and communication is totally welcome there too. Member that chemistry thing I talked about earlier? (Whispers behind hand) This adds to it.

Like/Reblog Etiquette

I don’t care if you like anything of mine, or reblog it. In fact please do! Especially if you love/like them. Omg in fact if you do it you’ll capture a little piece of my heart more than you had the first time you did it. 😆With me, it really is the small things and I get giddy over many of them. Just don’t flat out copy my work, save it, and then post it. Unnecessary. —unless you’re stealing and then in that case don’t do that either.

Shipping

I ship with only one, and that is @isawthelight

This means I am not interested in doing this with anyone else here. My fingers are nimble though and my imagination runs far and wide, so there’s tons of other connection opportunities out there in that sea where our muses are concerned. Basically, just feel free to shoot me a message about anything you’re thinking at all if you’d like to write together! I also promise to do the same. If I follow you, I will read your rules and message you thereafter. It’d be cool if you also did that if you follow this blog, but totally not a rule breaker if you don’t. If I’m interested, I’ll be reading your stuffs and hitting you up! As a general note: I’d really love to hear from anyone who has interest enough to follow first like; why did you? What idea did you have? Don’t be shy to tell me what you’re thinking! I loveeee brainstorming too. My imagination is super vivid, so lots of times I can come up with something enjoyable and am really open to ideas or expanding upon those in ways that work. Or even if you haven’t followed me yet, and you’re interested in writing together and you had an idea butttt aren’t quite sure...Shoot me a message. I’m crafty so I promise you and your muse a good time either way.

Triggers

So I’m going to be honest...and it’s kinda ironic...considering the themes in The Devil All The Time, but animal gore/cruelty where it involves slaying, or killing animals is something (and literally the only thing) I am sensitive about. That being said, my ‘husband’ things — (side-eyes him from afar 👀)

But I also want to say I’m in this verse writing and all in in doing so, so please feel free to write anything to your heart’s content where it fits or you have the idea to in this verse, or with and around me. Although I have my sensitivity, it’s a part of the story and if it’s mentioned, or written it’s okay! I will grimace and either skip past it if I’m reading something of yours, or read it and thank the lord it’s just words and fiction like I did with the book and film! :p Having said that, at this time, I won’t myself be tagging more than a couple of triggers outside of cancer, nsfw. That certainly will change once I begin/ and get into works on this blog, but at this time there won’t be too awful many just because I may not think of them all and really don’t want to make myself crazy in my attempt to be on the safe side 😆. I have to mention as well that I also prefer to write with partners who don’t really have many (hardly any as a matter of fact, or none at all) triggers and with that I tend to feel as though, if you’re here, and you’re reading, you must at least be aware of the book and/or film and it’s themes. If you arent or like me have sensitivities you’d like at least noted someplace cause we totally read one another’s stuff and love one another, tell me! If you’re here, I love you, and also certainly we all are different and human and have our own feelings about things. Let me know. I’m happy to tag something for anyone who reads mine, or my partners things. In the meantime though, I’m going to assume most are not squeamish around blood mentions, illness, swearing, murder, violence, sex, or anything else graphic in content. Because this blog will contain those and a bundle of other themes that more than likely will grip a persons soul/heart strings. I want to also say that I do read everyone’s rules I work with and if I notice something in a potential partner’s about a specific trigger that may be a constant thing here, or even upcoming or past, I’ll always courteously provide tags for them on my blog without any word about it. But once more, I will not be adding many trigger tags to start because this story is one for mature audiences, so I’m going to assume folks venturing here are of that sort. But there’s not just all that gritty grimey grimes stuff. There’s also so much love and fuzzy feels too.💘

(To be continued.......)

#/rules for now ☺️

[hcliix]

i am small, and the world is big.

her mother leaves for graduation and doesn’t come back for three months. a lot can happen in such a small amount of time. a lot did. ( mentions of @shecanonlycopy & @zairc )

helix lounged around her bedroom, surrounded by the ‘doll army’ she’d created over the years. they were her only company at the moment. her mother had gone to see something called a graduation, a concept helix had only heard of. she didn’t really care what it was. what she had cared about was that ada and zaire would be here, they would be home, and she wanted to see them.

“mama, mama, take me with you! i wanna see big brother and big sister!” she’d begged, but she’d been told ‘no’ countless times. she was always told ‘no’ when she wanted to leave the house. it didn’t matter how many temper tantrums she threw.

and so here she was, sitting and waiting, hoping that ada and zaire might visit, that they would come to her instead. but nothing happened. even in the off chance that someone would come, helix wasn’t allowed to let them in. she was to pretend that no one was home, that she didn’t exist. she had to stay where she was.

day turned into night and she became restless. she tried to keep herself occupied by having a tea party with her dolls. when that didn’t work, she decided to draw on the walls. she drew herself, her mother, and her older siblings, all four of them standing together, though she had to stop when she became too sad to continue.

she fell asleep, believing that her mother would be home when she woke up the following morning.

it was morning. her mother hadn’t returned.

nor had she returned by the following morning.

or the morning after that.

helix had never been left alone for this long. her mother had always promised her that she would come home, that nothing bad would happen to her and that they would read a story before going to bed. that promise had been broken three nights in a row now, and helix’s worry was steadily increasing.

she spent the entirety of the third morning contemplating. should she go out and find her mother? should she stay here and wait faithfully, as she always had? the second option sounded so lonely, so uninviting. what she had to do was clear.

after brushing her hair, she grabbed her two favourite dolls ( she’d made them in the likeness of ada and zaire, so she had something to remember them by ) and headed out the door.

helix had always known the isle was a bad place. she may have been sheltered, but there was only so much her mother could hide from her, and so she knew the stories that spread isle-wide. despite this, her mother had always assured her that they were good people. they had always done the right thing, and so they had nothing to worry about. she had no reason to think her mother was lying to her. she’d never let her down before.

it took her a while to find someone. she hadn’t gone far, taking in everything outside the house. it was a view she’d never seen before. she’d been so intrigued by every little thing that she almost missed the group of teenagers entirely. they couldn’t have been that much older than her, perhaps only by a year or two.

“excuse me,” she said in a small voice, approaching. she smiled softly when they turned to her. “i’m... i’m looking for my mama. could you help me, please?”

the group shared a few unsure looks. one of them, a boy with dark hair, looked down at the dolls she was carrying and frowned, whispering to the girl next to him. she whispered to the girl next to her, then she to the boy next to her. the entire group was in on a secret that helix wasn’t aware of.

the last girl to be told had a sour expression as she said, “what’s your mum’s name, kid?”

“emese.”

there was another group look, but this one was full of frowns and raised eyebrows. while before they’d been confused, now they just seemed annoyed. helix didn’t understand what she’d done.

“it’s okay if you can’t help me --” she started, but the first boy pushed his way forward, eyeing her up and down. his scrutinising gaze made her voice falter. she stepped back.

“you’re a beldam, yeah?” the boy asked. “why would we help you?”

helix’s eyes widened. “...huh?”

one of the girls smiled, but it wasn’t any sort of smile helix had ever seen. there was no kindness or warmth in her eyes, just a spark of mischief and cruelty. it chilled helix to the bone.

“c’mon, man, there’s no need to be so stingy. we know where her mother is. right, guys?” she looked around at her comrades before turning to helix. “your ‘mama’ is gone, sweetheart. she escaped with a bunch of the other villains. she’s in auradon now. she left you behind.”

helix clutched her dolls like lifelines. “m-mama would never! she would never leave without telling me! she’s -- she’s my mama!”

“so?” the boy’s voice was so filled with venom that helix flinched. “she’s a beldam, why would she care about kids?”

“but -- but...”

“do you even know what beldams do?” one of the girls at the rear of the group asked.

helix’s eyes flickered between the group’s faces. they were expecting an actual answer. “we help kids! sometimes... sometimes their parents are mean and they don’t want them, so we create a world where everything is nice and fun for them, and they can stay there forever!”

“don’t fuck with us!” another boy said, pushing past his friends. he was much taller than helix, and it showed when he stood right over her, arms folded. “beldams eat souls! they prey on kids who are unhappy, make them feel secure, then screw ‘em over until they die! what kind of sick twisted fuck are you to lie like that!”

helix cowered, expression one of bewilderment. they did what they did so children could be happy. they were good people.

...right?

“oi.” one of the girls tapped the guy on the shoulder. he stepped back from helix’s personal space. “i don’t think she’s lying. i think she’s just fucking stupid.”

the girl turned to helix, a sweet smile on her face. but it was too sweet. “hey, can i see your dolls? they look really cute.”

glad for the change of subject as well as the compliment about her craftsmanship, helix smiled and offered the dolls, one in each hand. the girl took both of them, turning them around as if inspecting them. then, just as it looked as though she was about to give them back, she threw them on the ground and stomped on them.

“fucking demon dolls, how do i know you’re not gonna use them to spy on us, huh?!”

helix screamed, horrified as the dolls’ faces, designed in her siblings’ likeness, became flat and muddy. a particularly harsh stomp on doll-zaire’s neck tore his head clean off, and doll-ada was now missing both her legs. helix fell to the ground and tried to salvage what she could, but a powerful kick to the head had her falling on her side.

the threatening boy continued to kick her despite her already being on the ground. “KILL THE BELDAM, KILL THE BELDAM!”

the other children joined in, pulling her hair and ripping her dress. one spat on her face. her hands clenched and unclenched, as though her dolls would reappear in her hands, safe and unharmed.

“guys... are you sure this is okay? isn’t she hurt enough?” one boy asked. the voice came from helix’s right.

the first boy, the dark haired one, snorted.

“doesn’t matter. after all, she’s a monster.”

for the two to three months she was on her own, helix learned how to survive. she figured out where to find food and how to avoid the other isle residents. she knew not to bring her dolls with her, and so doll-ada and doll-zaire, while repaired, now sat on her bed untouched. she didn’t have time for tea parties or drawing. she had to cook and clean and keep everything safe.

whatever innocence she’d once had was now gone. it had left with her mother, and she doubted it would come back once she returned. if she returned, she always reminded herself.

but emese did return. yet she wasn’t the mother helix remembered.

there were no more bedtime stories and no cheerful conversations. anytime she mentioned ada or zaire, or how they were doing, her mother would either mumble something about attacking ada or go into hysterics. or both. it was often both.

slowly, very slowly, she learned what happened.

her mother had lured thirty or so students, some of whom knew ada and zaire, who were friends with them, and took their souls. there was no longer any talk of how they helped unsatisfied children find homes. it was just taking souls. her mother had taken children just like helix herself and used them to feed her own personal hunger.

and she’d attacked ada while doing it.

she didn’t know the details. her mother didn’t want to talk about it, and anything she did say on the matter was too nonsensical.

helix remembered what one of the teenagers had said to her.

“she’s a beldam, why would she care about kids?”

she’d tried to convince herself that she and ada and zaire were different, that if anyone would be able to stop them, they could. that she would care. but if she’d attacked ada...

that was when she knew she had to leave. she could remain in this worn house, trying to look after both herself and her mother, especially when her mother wasn’t all there anymore. she needed answers and she needed a life outside of her mother’s now nonexistent protection.

as she’d left, all her mother had said was, “why?” why are you going? why are you leaving me?”

helix had turned around in the doorway, eyes sad and heavy.

“because i’m a monster.”

and then she left.

#sldfksl;dfks;dlkf #idk how accurate any of this is in terms of how the beldams lived #so i tried to keep it as vague as possible #but i have many feelings ok #many many #did i even get the other mother's character right jfc @ me #{ i am small and the world is big | isms } #{para}

[fantasyideas1]

Aphorisms Necrosis of the soul and faith, optimism is a sinusitis of intuition, they do not feel a dirty trick at all, nano robots that penetrate consciousness in the form of a dream, a simulation of a fictional meaning of life, a hologram, neon, cyber paradise of illusions, libido and the human ego contains terabytes of self-deception, architecture, the image, the design of the meaning of life, in which the emptiness of pleasure develops, the biological design of the personality. Poetry You are my philia, sex fetish, love for you is a whole ism, your seduction is like an erotic massage of the penis, an aria of orgasm from delight, a note flies into the space of a philosophy of feelings in love, from attraction to you you are sticky like scotch tape, my lips and eyes stick to each a particle of your body, a powerful vibration, a vibrator, in the penis, heart and mind from falling in love, vibrations of love, in my eyes a poem of delight, magic of seduction, the whole body becomes dumb, command my Goddess, I am your sex slave, I am your sex toy, aesthetics I feel your body physically with my mind and heart, feelings of love are material, I feel every thought in love, in my head, cable and the Internet show you for days on end, The skin is as if woven from sex and precious stones, the color of lust and passion, when your body is not around, I feel nostalgic hunger for lust, porn erotic masterpiece, genital seduction tune, juicy seduction, you are my girlfriend and I feel like a trillionaire because I have you, you are the highest b The wealth of this world, there is no more expensive diamond than you, extreme adrenaline of love and lust, your body is a paradise for aesthetic sweet tooth. jokes Alimony is a budget sucker. You will swear with me, you in a small way or in a big way. Confectionery channel, it was invented by sadists. Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich

#quotes