#ALL HAIL BISCUIT

[im-queen-of-the-black-forest]

ALL! HAIL! BISCUIT!

Copia: *wondering into the ghoul common room, holding Biscuit the rat* hey guys! Who’s ready for game nig-*looks up to see every single ghoul minus Aether and Cumulus either on top of various furniture pieces or clinging to the ceiling* ………….. should I ask?

Sunshine: *hanging off the light* GIANT SPIDER SAVE YOURSELF!

Copia: *immediately leaping onto the coffee table* FUCK THAT WHERE IS IT?!

Mountain: *on top of the kitchen table* ITS BY THE TV* points to an UNNATURALLY LARGE SPIDER making its way in front of the tv* I FUCKING TOLD YOU TO CLOSE THE WINDOW CIRRUS

Cirrus: *perched on the open door into the kitchen* IT WAS HOT I SAID I WAS SORRY! RAIN HOWS THAT NET COMING?!

Rain: * sitting on top of the fridge, furiously knitting* ITS GETTING THERE! CROCHET WOULD BE QUICKER BUT MY HOOKS ARE IN MY ROOM! DEW WHY DON’T YOU TORCH IT BEFORE IT EATS US?!

Dew: * on the back of the couch with Swiss* DO YOU WANT ME TO SET THE COMMON ROOM ON FIRE?! CUS THATS HOW YOU GET THE COMMON ROOM ON FIRE!

Swiss: it’s coming closer ITS COMING CLOSER

Copia: *screams*

Biscuit the rat: *having been gently placed onto the surface of the coffee table by Copia to make sure he wasn’t crushed* squeak? *carefully scurries down the table leg and bounds up to the spider*

Copia: BISCUIT NO!

Biscuit:* proceeds to eat the spider, stuffing each creepy leg into his little rat mouth before licking his lips and beginning to clean himself*

Copia+Ghouls:…

~A few Moments Later~

Aether and Cumulus: *entering the common room carrying pizza and several large bottles of vodka* Guys we’re ba-

*in the middle of the common room Copia stands, holding Biscuit up in pride of place. Biscuit is now munching on a piece of apple and having the time of his little rat life. All the ghouls are dancing around them and chanting * ALL! HAIL! BISCUIT! ALL! HAIL! BISCUIT!!

Aether: we were gone for TEN MINUTES…actually kinda impressed and this looks fun * hops into the circle, dragging a giggling Cumulus with him * ALL! HAIL! BISCUIT!!

[its-hyperphixation-time]

MWAHAHAHHAHAHA! WE'VE CAPTURED YOUR PRECIOUS LITTLE MEDKIT WATER MEMBER! WE'RE TAKING OVER THIS ACC AND YOU'LL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!!!!

[octomae]

okay

so i saw a post about Lemuria Hub and the Deepsea Metro having ties to each other, and i have a conspiracy theory that's been rotting in my brain ever since i saw the Deepsea Metro map in Lemuria Hub

here's all your proof of that:

plus, the eye posters from Kamabo Co. being present in Lemuria Hub as well. it's pretty obvious from these that Lemuria and Kamabo are tied together.

we all know and remember Tartar's goal: bring back humanity. but the name "Lemuria" holds a lot more weight than most casual splatoon players might realize.

because i am a nerd, i looked it up.

From the Wikipedia page:

Lemuria, or Limuria, was a continent proposed in 1864 by zoologist Philip Sclater, theorized to have sunk beneath the Indian Ocean, later appropriated by occultists in supposed accounts of human origins. (...)

The hypothesis was proposed as an explanation for the presence of lemur fossils on Madagascar and the Indian subcontinent but not in continental Africa or the Middle East. Biologist Ernst Haeckel's suggestion in 1870 that Lemuria could be the ancestral home of humans caused the hypothesis to move beyond the scope of geology and zoogeography, ensuring its popularity outside of the framework of the scientific community. (...)

The theory was discredited with the discovery of plate tectonics and continental drift in the 20th century.

this (now disproven) theory ties in pretty neatly with Tartar's goal. "Bring back humanity". the implications of Lemuria Hub being tied to Kamabo Co. very likely means that Tartar's hypothetical new age of humans would have originated from Lemuria. Splatoon 3 seems to like a focus on origins, because we also get the origins of marinekind in its storymode, Alterna and the Return of the Mammalians.

but there's something else that caught my eye too.

SashiMori.

with the release of Lemuria Hub, nintendo brought back the fictional band, SashiMori! which is great and fantastic, but im pretty damn sure that they didn't bring any other bands back from Splatoon 1 or 2 completely unchanged for Splatoon 3. sure, OTH was brought back for multi-player OSTs, but in the form of Damp Socks. (and the idols are a sort of special case anyways.) Squid Squad returned only as Front Roe. Yoko from Ink Theory returned only in Yoko and the Gold Bazookas.

but nintendo didn't change SashiMori's presentation at all. the only thing that did change, and was notably very mentioned, was the fact that SashiMori's DJ Paul was older now. that's it. (nintendo also didn't change Acht. this is an important detail, but ill get to them in a minute).

Paul is pretty interesting when you look at him. there's very little information, but what we do have about him ties in pretty nicely with Kamabo Co., Tartar's association with humanity, and Lemuria Hub. for starters, Paul's DJ mixing for SashiMori is hailed as unique in universe, for incorporating human voices into SashiMori tracks.

From the Splatoon Wiki page on SashiMori:

Paul is the band's DJ, an Octoling. He is 10 years old in Splatoon 2 and 16 years old in Splatoon 3, and his favorite foods are kelp and biscuits. He remixes from sources including DJ Real Sole, DJ Octavio, and various ancient records, and is surprisingly talented for his age. Originally, SashiMori had a traditional vocalist, but they were replaced due to their self-centered personality, after which Paul was recruited through a tweet. According to the Japanese Family vs. Friends dialogue, he is friends with Marina.

(...) This music has vocals but no vocalist! Through the genius of DJ Paul, all the vocals have been sampled from a collection of ancient vinyl.

so, Paul and SashiMori are associated with humanity because they literally use human voices in their tracks.

here's the final nail in coffin to make it all tie together. it's a pretty popular theory that Paul and Acht "Dedf1sh" (who was sanitized by Commander Tartar and composed all the Octo Expansion soundtracks) are blood relatives.

Here's their designs from Splatoon 2 and Splatoon 3:

Acht and Paul have the same symbols on their hats. their ink color even matches (from before Acht was sanitized). Acht has blue tentacles and red tips, Paul has red tentacles and blue tips.

even from the wiki trivia section of SashiMori's page:

In-universe, Paul and Acht are speculated to be blood relatives. They notably have the same symbol appearing on their hats, wear black clothing, with Paul wearing black T-shirts in both album artwork and Acht wearing a black dress, have three tentacles for their hair, and Paul's ink color looks similar to Acht's ink color before they were sanitized.

so what does this have to do with Lemuria Hub?

following nintendo's trend of splatoon artist releases with each season, they bring back an old artist and repurpose them into a new band or presentation. for Sizzle Season 2024, the band they brought back was SashiMori, but completely unchanged. (tangentially related, for the release of Side Order, they brought back Dedf1sh, also completely unchanged.)

the return of SashiMori completely unchanged breaks nintendo's pattern. alongside that, the stage released this time was only Lemuria Hub, and no other stage. (with the exception of Drizzle Season 2024, which released only Marlin Airport,) the trend has been to release two stages per season. this time, it's only one stage.

TLDR:

Kamabo Co.'s goal was to bring back humanity via testing and blending marinekind through the deepsea metro. Acht "Dedf1sh" was the musician of Kamabo Co., and sanitized in the name of this goal. Paul from SashiMori uses human voices in his tracks. Acht and Paul are very likely related. Lemuria Hub has Kamabo Co. posters and its deepsea metro map on display. the name "Lemuria" is associated with the origins of humanity via a (now disproven) theory. SashiMori's new music was released alongside Lemuria Hub.

SashiMori's new songs, with human voices mixed in them, playing over the train station of Lemuria Hub, which was likely an access point of some kind or tied in to Kamabo Co. somehow, is an EXTREMELY POWERFUL AND INTERESTING IMAGE. Lemuria Hub is hearing human voices for the first time via SashiMori's new songs, and it's been taken over for the one thing Tartar hated the most about marinekind: Turf War. (in a twisted way, Lemuria Hub hearing human voices is probably what Tartar wanted, but I doubt it wanted it like this. very ironic, i approve.)

so what does all of this mean? well... we can only speculate at this point. the themes of humanity in Splatoon 3 are matched in quantity only by Salmon Run lore (but, that's a whole other essay post, i won't get into it here). i personally think it means that we're going to see some kind of connection to humanity, OR salmonid development/lore in the next game. and with the FinalFest theme for Splatoon 3 being "Past, Present, or Future", im REALLY excited to see what it could mean. maybe Tartar's alive somehow, or maybe we'll get to look back at the evolution and development of marinekind, or maybe Lil Judd will finally snap since he's taken over Grizzco and the salmonids will have their apocalypse.

(as a final ending note: there's also a TON of association from all of this... with Off The Hook. OTH is associated with nearly everything here; its speculated Pearl was SashiMori's original vocalist before they got Paul, Marina is friends with Paul, OTH helped 8 break out of Kamabo Co., Pearl herself murdered Tartar with her voice; Off The Hook changed the world with Chaos vs Order, and Off The Hook is representing "the present" in the FinalFest. coincidence? maybe. who knows?)

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

Looming vs. Natural Reproduction - what on Gallifrey's going on here?

aka What is looming and how does it exist alongside natural reproduction?

As the first of the trending topics, GIL's noticed some confusion about the concept of looming vs. natural reproduction in Gallifreyans. Have no fear; GIL's here to help.

🧬 What is looming?

It's a bit like 3D printing, but for people. These Rassilon-created Genetic Loom Breeding-Engines weave new Gallifreyans from a mix of matter and biodata. Looms produce Gallifreyans of all genders, (though females are loomed slightly less frequently). Each House has its unique Loom, which embeds familial traits into its creations.

❓ Why is looming a thing?

The invention of Looms was Rassilon’s grand solution to a serious problem. Following the catastrophic Curse of Pythia, Gallifrey faced extinction. The Looms became lifelines, ensuring the continuity of Gallifreyan civilisation.

🔮 What is the Curse of Pythia?

The Pythias were a kind of magical matriarchal monarchy, with rulers known as Pythias ruling over ancient Gallifrey in succession. Pythia number 309 (out of 309) was elbowed out by Rassilon. She was, understandably, really hacked off. She condemned Gallifrey to wither and then threw herself into the Crevasse of Memories That Will Be, never to be seen again. This 'withering' is known as the 'Curse of Pythia'. It resulted in mass sterility of Gallifreyans - supposedly instantly killing babies in their mother's wombs, and preventing any Gallifreyan from reproducing naturally from that point forward.

🍷 So Gallifreyans used to reproduce naturally?

Yes. Before the sterility curse, Gallifreyans reproduced just like humans, with a little wine, a candlelit dinner and maybe an album by Barry White.

✨ So does this 'Curse' still exist?

No. The apparent lifting of Pythia's curse was marked by Leela's pregnancy (yes, THAT Leela), which hailed a return to natural reproduction among Gallifreyans. Others besides Leela have also been able to reproduce naturally.

🔄 So what method do they use?

This blend of technological and biological means of reproduction leaves Gallifreyans in a unique position. They could use both methods depending on social, political, or personal factors.

🧐It can't all be that simple, GIL ...

Wow, you've been here before, haven't you?

There are accounts that the supposed 'Curse of Pythia' didn't actually come from Pythia.

Self-inflicted: Some say it was a side-effect of a massive time tech experiment that went awry.

It never existed: Others suggest there never was a curse. Rassilon, seeking absolute control, concocted a narrative to enforce a sterile, controllable society, eradicating the unpredictability of natural birth and driving forward eugenics in his perfect society.

🏫 So ...

Thus, the plot thickens. Were Gallifreyans always capable of natural reproduction but held back by societal constructs and fear? Did Leela's pregnancy unveil a truth long buried or simply reawaken a dormant biological ability? That's up to you.

But of course, GIL denies this version of events, cos how else would we get the funding for all the biscuits in the canteen from the High Council? Praise Rassilon!

Related:

💬|🧶💰How to acquire a Loom?: Practical guide to acquiring a loom, legally or not.

📺|🏡🧬Top 10 list of the most biologically curious Houses of Gallifrey

💬|👤👑Why is Rassilon everywhere?: Who Rassilon is and why you should care.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[sgiandubh]

For an early autumn Italian twist: Pesche alla Nutella

I burned them a bit, because we have a very temperamental oven (Black Friday, anyone?), but this North Italy staple is such a simple, satisfying solution for all those lazy week-end afternoons. This recipe was shared by my good friend L, who hails from beautiful Valle d'Aosta and is nowadays one of the world's leading experts in Pico della Mirandola's philosophical system. We met in Paris many moons ago and her wit never disappoints. This is her mom's go to recipe and frankly, my dear: who am I to discuss an Italian mamma's success?

We had three big peaches, forlorn and lingering in the fridge. The good thing about this recipe is that you can use even very ripe ones: I promise it won't make any difference. And, if cooking for adults, you can even personalize them with your own favorite, alcohol-wise: I found Limoncello and Marie Brizard's Cassis de Dijon liqueur to be very good ideas, but I usually go brandy all the way.

For three peaches, you will need: half a cup (200 grams) Nutella - the smallest pot will do; five biscuits/tea cookies, crushed (I just used my hands, to be honest, I was pissed off by Anons); a hefty dash of brandy (always Metaxa ***, in this house, for cooking - perfect sweet/spirit balance) or any sweet, fruity liqueur. If you have more peaches, multiply accordingly and play along.

Preheat your oven at about 300 Fahrenheit (150 Celsius). Prepare a sheet pan with baking paper.

Cut your peaches in half, remove stone. With the help of a melon baller, scoop as much as you see fit of the pulp - what is a melon baller? This - you probably do have one loitering around in your drawers and if not, use a tiny moka teaspoon:

3. In a bowl, mix the Nutella, the fruit pulp, the crushed biscuits/cookies and the hefty dash of brandy. Cookies-wise, I used this very popular German brand, but if you want to be decadent, Scottish shortbread is probably your best option:

4. Fill in your peaches. Carefully place them in the sheet pan. Bake for about 25 to 30 minutes, but do keep an eye on them, to avoid this semi-disappointing result:

However, I guarantee they disappeared very, very quickly - not in the bin.

You are welcome, as always.

[ltwilliammowett]

Cook like a Sailor- Hallig Knerken

Today we go to the galley again and this time we have something sweet to nibble on.

(x)

This recipe is a traditional recipe from the smallest island in the North Frisian Wadden Sea and almost every Hallig and every woman living there once had their own recipe and baked these not very common biscuits for their husbands when they went out to sea to take them with them as a bread substitute. These biscuits were baked twice to make them very durable. It is not known exactly when this type of biscuit appeared, but it has probably been around since the 17th century. And you can bake the Hallig Knerken or Sailor Cookies with the following recipe.

Ingredients

250 g soft butter

250 g sugar

1 heaped tablespoon vanilla sugar

1 tablespoon cardamom

2 pinches of love

1 - 2 pinches of salt

3 eggs

500 g flour

1 tsp ammonium bicarbonate

200 g cream

coarse sugar

The preparation

First beat the butter with the sugar and vanilla sugar in a food processor or with a hand mixer. Then stir in the cardamom and salt.

Beat the eggs and stir them into the other ingredients in the bowl, one at a time.

Then add the flour to the bowl. Mix the staghorn salt with a tablespoon of water, add it too and knead everything thoroughly.

Roll the dough into a ball, wrap in cling film and place in the fridge for about an hour. After the refrigeration time, divide the dough into quarters and form rolls with a diameter of about three centimetres from the pieces.

Cut each roll of dough into ten pieces. Then form a ball from each piece of dough. Now preheat the oven to 240 degrees Celsius, line three baking trays with baking mats or baking paper and get ready to bake.

Now pour the cream into a deep dish and sprinkle the hail sugar on a flat plate. Dip each ball of dough first into the cream and then dip it into the hail sugar. Place all the Knerken on a baking tray lined with baking paper, spacing them further apart.

Bake them now for about 8 minutes. They should not necessarily be brown. As soon as all the biscuits are ready, reduce the oven temperature to 120 degrees. Place all the baked Knerken on end in a shallow baking dish and dry in the oven for another 2 hours.

Now the Hallig Knerken should cool completely on a baking rack. Then pack all the biscuits into tins and store in a cool, dry place. To eat, simply dip them into tea, coffee or warm milk, let them soften a little and then enjoy.

[veeluvss]

emily is your sugar mummy

erm mainly spice ?

more of a plot filler.

part 2

i heard the ping on my phone and quickly glanced at it, seeing emily’s message pop up. i excused myself from the table, sliding away from my parents nosy glares and headed to the bathroom.

e - you have half an hour to be at my apartment or they’ll be consequences.

i gulped. i was busy, there was no way i was getting there in half an hour. not a chance. and consequences? what consequences?

y/n - i’m busy. can it be 2 hours?

her reply came through almost instantly and i didn’t really want to look.

e - 2? are you having a laugh? i said half an hour. be there in 30 minutes.

y/n - emmmm, i’m at dinner with my parents.

e - and?

y/n - and i can’t just leave !

e - you have half an hour little lady.

she went offline then and my heart sped up even higher. even if i left now i won’t be there in half an hour, not with the dinner time traffic. i walked out of the bathroom and slid back into the seat beside my mother.

“you look awfully pale,” she said in her typical British accent.

“oh, erm,” i muttered, lowering my head. “i don’t feel too good.”

“would you like to skip dinner today darling? maybe rearrange for tomorrow or when you feel better?” my father asked. i looked up at him and nodded meekly.

“what? no! we leave in a few days and she can’t get over her silly sickness for some food?” my mother asked my father, whispering in her stupid angry whisper.

“she needs to enjoy herself. she can’t enjoy herself is she’s feeling poorly, would you like her to make a mess in public?”

“any daughter of mine can control themselves!” my mother said, voice raised. i rolled my eyes, set down my napkin and got up. i wasn’t going to let her talk about me like that - sick or not.

“where do you think you’re going?” she asked, slamming down her own knife and fork.

“to control myself,” i smiled. “good day, mother.” i nodded my head at her and walked out of the restaurant, quickly hailing a taxi.

it got to 30 minutes and i wasn’t there. we were still round the corner and i felt my heart hammer in my chest. consequences. i paid the taxi man and climbed out of the car, knowing it would be quicker to walk than sit in the traffic.

i slid into the elevator and pressed the top button. of course emily has the pent house. well, one of them.

i knocked on her door, awaiting her answer and tapped my foot anxiously. god, what was she going to do with me. i could hear her behind the door and i gulped as she approached it. i heard the lock click and then the door opened, just a crack.

her brown eyes peered round the door and her greying hair dropped down -

“can i help you?” she asked.

“i’m sorry i’m late,” i muttered. she sighed and opened the door more. she stayed rooted to the spot though, not allowing me to enter. she checked her watch, sitting humbly on her wrist.

“i said 30 minutes not 34 minutes.”

“i know! i tried to get here as quick as possible!” i whined. she sighed and moved to the side, letting me in.

i slid under her arm and waited in her hallway. it had been a week since we had had sex and to be honest, i was expecting her to pin me against the wall but she didn’t. instead, she put her hand on the bottom of my back and walked me through her apartment to the living area.

“sit down,” she ordered. i sat with no hesitation, confused on what was happening. “would you like a drink, some biscuits?” she asked me and i grew more confused. i shook my head and she sighed.

“you know i expect verbal answers, y/n.” i gulped again and gave her a polite ‘no thankyou’ to which she nodded.

she sat opposite me, leaning back in her chair and crossed her ankle over her knee. i, sitting on the edge of the seat, was full of anxiety.

“i have a proposal.” she said quietly.

“what’s that?”

“i have this work thing,” she whispered, moving her hands all over the place. “next week.”

“okay?”

“i need you to be my plus 1,” she said, looking at me through her eyelashes.

“really?” at the start, we agreed we’d keep everything private. no one was to know who i was, no one was to know who she was. as the unit chief for the bau, i understood that - she had high stakes in her job and she needed to be respected but now this?

“thursday. everyone is taking their partners. Luke and JJ suggested i bring, you,” she said.

“they know about me?”

“they know i have a close friend,” she said gently, sitting up. “y/n, it’ll be a busy night. i’m hoping people will be too busy to question our relationship. all you need to do is look pretty and hang off my arm,” she smiled, leaning forward in her seat.

i gave her a side eye, thinking it over. my feelings for emily prentiss had never gone away and now i had to pretend to be in a relationship with her? god.

“400 if you agree,” she muttered, pulling out the money from her pocket. my eyes bulged. 400?!

“emily, that’s a lot,” i whispered, backing off slightly.

“and im asking a lot from you sweetheart,” she said gently.

“i don’t need 400,” i told her, shaking my head.

“that doesn’t mean i won’t give it to you. you’re my baby, i’ll pay you as i like it.

do you agree to join me?” she asked, rising to her feet. i gulped and nodded. she took my hand and smiled, brining me to my feet.

“good, 530 on thursday - be here ready to get ready,” she whispered, planting a kiss onto my forehead.

she dropped my hand and went to walk to the front door.

“you text me when i’m in the middle of dinner with my parents, making me come and you won’t let me stay?”

she tutted, turning on her feet. “you still underestimate me, darling.” she pulled out the drawer by her front door and pulled out a red key. i gulped.

slowly, she walked down the hallway but i didn’t dare follow her. i heard the key in the lock, turn twice and the door click open. the light buzzed as it fired up and goosebumps rose on my skin.

“take them clothes off little girl,” she said, down the hallway. i instantly began stripping off, my shoes, my socks, everything.

when she came round the corner, she had the pink rope in her hands, a devilish smirk on her face.

“why am i punishing you?” she whispered slowly as she reached me. she dragged her nails down the front of my stomach as the rope tickled my sides.

“i was late,” i replied.

“i don’t like people being late,” she told me again. she quickly grabbed both my hands and pinned them behind my back. i felt the rope tie around them and she worked her magic, working it up my arms and over my shoulders. the next thing i knew, my arms were supported behind my back and rope dug into my curves. emily stood back, examining her work before leading me through the house.

i stood in the doorway of the locked room, taking it in. for once, i couldn’t wait to be punished.

[glisten-inthedark]

Ok hear me out!

Post war Drarry fic in which they work at the ministry and Yada Yada

But! The Malfoys are going through a redemption arc because I said so and Lucius struggles to understand all things muggle (trademark). Now, he doesn't become an angel and he's still deeply prejudiced and still has a mean streak a mile long, but he's trying so give him a break. (He's the one asking, not me).

As they do so, Harry watches as his preconceived notions of the Malfoy family go down the drain especially as he learns they do love each other.

As Draco and Harry become friends (and oh boy does Harry wish they were more and no Ron, he's not obsessing again!) He sorta gets adopted first by Mrs. Malfoy who always gives him the best biscuits ever (don't ever tell Molly that), and makes him tea when he's under the weather.

And then suddenly and out of nowhere Mr. Malfoy and him are playing wizard chess while Harry tries to explain what a toaster was to no avail. It was fun watching Lucius get frustrated by it, though.

Suddenly, Harry is also the one receiving chocolates sent from the Malfoys once a week, and he's also the one they invite over for dinner every chance they get and watching Mrs. Malfoy go on and on about finding Draco a lovely witch to marry makes his skin boil.

But then once Draco comes out as gay, he was expecting for hail and hellfire but instead he got Lucius saying they could find a prestigious wizard for him to marry and somehow the idea of Draco with some other bloke was even worse the idea of him with a woman.

At first, Harry thought he didn't stand a chance because he wasn't the right gender, turns our Draco did like men, but not him and that was way worse.

But Mrs. Malfoy and Mrs. Weasley somehow also become quite close and Harry may or may not have heard a conversation between them once while under the invisibility cloak as he finds Narcissa also knows what is like to lose a child. According to what he heard, the Malfoys struggled to conceive and Narcissa suffered through multiple miscarriages and through a still birth. As these two form an unlikely alliance, they decide that Harry and Draco should be together because I too said so.

So now they are meddling while Harry is forever salty that Draco doesn't want him, somehow got adopted by two very distinct families, has to deal with an constant confused Lucius that never knows what in the world is a blender and why does he think the idea is so fascinating and with a Ron who's very frustrated with everyone

[tiny-cloud-dragon]

Does His Royal Majesty spend much time with Tifa or Aerith? Do they trade boxing/gardening tips? Does he make them biscuits for free or is there a toll? <3

All hail!

Ah, yes, Zack's friends! Tiny Cloud dragon loves Zack's friends. He gets to see them regularly and enjoys their company. Tifa and Aerith are the only two people Zack trusts his babey with when he has to go do SOLDIER stuff, and there is no one to take care of him while he is gone.

Tifa dotes on Tiny Cloud dragon, and always has little treats for him. She teaches him a few martial arts moves (which he tries on Sephiroth's toes later). Tifa is a little jealous that he has a tail. That jab, jab, cross, spin kick to tail whip combo had been impressive! And the butt wiggle to pounce move had left her squealing. She takes him on supply runs for the bar and lets him pick the snacks and food options for the customers. And she let's him help at the bar. His job is to sit by the tip jar and look cute. He also doubles as a bouncer for rowdy customers. Bar fights don't happen often when a full sized dragon hisses an inch from your nose.

Aerith adores the tiny dragon and takes him to the market to pick out fabric for Angeal to sew him little outfits with. After shopping, it's off to a coffee shop for teats, and then to a book store. Aerith thinks it's a crying same that the tiny dragon can't read, so she takes it upon herself to teach him! He picks it up fast, and becomes a menace at home. Now he can read all the labels and knows which bags and containers have the good food and snackies inside. And he can read all the notes his subjects leave around the house. Thete will be no secrets in this house!

He makes sure to share the tea with Tifa and Aerith when they go on their coffee dates together.

[quotidian-oblivion]

DND PARTY

TO CELEBRATE FINALLY FINISHING CHAPTER ONE AFTER 8-11 WEEKS WE DECIDED TO HAVE A PARTY WITH FOOD AND SUGAR

BIG thanks to @its-stairs-time for making the mnm and choc chip cookies and the brownies too <33 We got Shapes biscuits courtesy of one of our members to balance out the sweet-savory ratio a little

AND I

BROUGHT CAKE

(my sister was my accomplice)

The candle is courtesy of @mispeltnostalgia (who is in another campaign) because we wanted to be fancy. And the orange/gold things were labelled unicorn cake decorations but shhhh they look like trees so its fINE.

It... got a little squished cuz I was carrying it around all day.

ANYWAY WE'VE OFFICIALLY STARTED CHAPTER 2!! And said goodbye to one of our members (Astā) :( AND WE WERE HAILED BY THE TOWNSPEOPLE AND BESTOWED GIFTS AND ONE OF MY GIFTS WAS THERAPY

Once again, big thank you to @the-echos-error for writing a large part of the story ^^

[nelsywelsy]

... I've just woken up to a VERY odd dream.

To start, it was basically a void (or the forest? Can't really recall.) Nothing could be seen for miles on end... Then I bumped into something-- or well, someone. And what's most odd is that someone is... me? But in a way it wasn't?

She looked pretty cool, red leather jacket and insanely sharp teeth. Sharper than mine! She seemed to float a little and act all dramatic like a certain drama king I know. We roamed around even if we didn't have any destination in mind... But apparently, for my subconscious, one 'clone' wasn't enough as another 'me' popped out of nowhere from the bushes. This one looked like she hailed from a time before the founding fathers were born and a bloody puss and boots-esque hat. Then another, and another... All different styles and tweaks. Hell, I saw a me with cool glowing highlights and gangster tattoos! My mama would never let me have those until I'm old enough. That me was pretty scary though, grouchy, and as my mama would say "May galit sa mundo." I don't want to end up like her - even if she's just a figment of my imagination.

It was both a questionable and curious ride. We chatted for a while about something I can't remember, somehow a big table of biscuits and treats showed up that I chowed down on. Strangely there was also... Rocks??? On plates??? I didn't see who wanted to eat those but best I didn't for my sanity (although I always considered how rocks and forbidden foods taste like, lucky me - whoever it is). While we were all having fun in this 'Neilya and her clones' party, some comically small cat person thing like those anime cat girls Avery (my roommate) is very keen about popped out of nowhere to shoot the rest of mes to... Raccoons?

Yes, the cat thing turned them into raccoons and held me at gunpoint demanding us to pose for a photo to a camera we cannot see! So I scooped up all of the (how many were they again... 5?) 5 raccoonified 'mes' before she decided to shoot me-- Not that I wouldn't mind imagining what life would be like as a raccoon -- and posed. I never saw the photo, which was a shame, honestly.

It's definitely a fun and... mentally questionable way for my subconscious to celebrate my birthday with me, 'oh here I conjured up clones that turned to raccoons as hostage for you as a treat.'

I'll go wash up... Hopefully this means my birthday is off to a great start.

[divergent-paths]

HBD Alex~! Another year down! Let's see what random tidbits we can share about him~

Alex likes to give his rock-mons names that coincide or are derived from various scientific names and terms, geology and chemistry being high up on the list for obvious reasons. If a mon's name doesn't fit the pattern, it's safe to say the mon was a gift or it named itself.

When it comes to birthday gifts, Alex has received dog biscuits disguised as people food and other assorted joke items so much that he no longer accepts gifts on the day of his bday from anyone that isn't direct family. He unfortunately knows the taste of dog food all too well. :')

Hailing from Kalos, it's no surprise that Alex is a real foodie, and as he's grown into his teens, he's developed a sense of taste that is starting to rival many gourmets and top food critics. Despite a preference for fancy dining, he still enjoys street-food and 'low class' fare, citing that someone's effort or intent brings flavour out too.

Hope you enjoyed the pic and facts about the boy~!

[th3-0bjectivist]

Dear listener, three months ago I began posting music by recently deceased artists and long-dead bands that were, all of them, exceptional in some way. I haven’t stopped since, and with this post I hereby pronounce my quarter-year long rediscovery of dead bands to be officially complete… and lucky you, I’ve got a plump Maraschino cherry to place on top of this layered ice cream cake. Folks, crank the volume, smash play, and be placed in salivating awe at one of the most influential dead bands of all-time. Imagine a musical act that is completely mediocre in every way; just some shitty, generic modern band the likes of which you hear ad infinitum on Top-40’s radio. Now, add to that same non-specific act a lead lady vocalist that has a voice on par with Billie Holiday. Back that superb voice up with instrumentalists hungry to deliver something that sounds new and exciting to the world, subtract the pretentiousness and insincerity of modern music, and cube the equation with infinite collective creativity and genuine inspiration. What you are left with is the almighty and immortal Portishead. As English as roast beef and hailing from Bristol, this group hasn’t made an album in about fifteen years and only technically lives on through ultra-rare live performances. In just under two decades from the mid-90’s to 2008, this group managed to produce not mere music, but genuine lightning-in-a-bottle magic. The members were all very motivated by old timey film soundtrack LP’s, leaving a lot of their tracks sounding like a tune from a film noire. Whether they liked it or not, they had a major hand in popularizing trip-hop, a highly experimental genre (in the 90’s anyway) which relies heavily on hip hop tempos mixed with soul, jazz, funk, or whatever form of electronic music you want to throw into the fusion. This was also a band that just kind of burned out; despite their notoriety and mega-successful presence in the industry, the members of this collective were just fallible people at the end of the day, and apparently suffered from extreme exhaustion by way of constantly recording and touring. If you spent your time in studios cranking out some of the highest quality music available at the time, you’d be exhausted too. This is Biscuit from 1994’s Dummy, and it is merely one of many, many outstanding works from their contemplative, well-executed and downright industry-changing catalog. Truly quality music (just like any quality entertainment; movies, television, art, etc.) should reveal something true and perhaps tragic about the human condition. Portishead excelled in this area. It doesn’t matter if they were only around for a moment in time. Their music is TIMELESS.

I don’t generally post many ultra-famous acts on this page unless given a motivation. Here’s my motivation; Portishead changed music on the planet Earth forever. They’re more goth than the whole of modern goth music. They’re trippy-er than the entirety of trip-hop. And, if anything you do in your life has 1/10th the positive impact on the globe as this here musical act, you, my friend, have earned my respect for merely existing. Image source: https://www.nme.com/blogs/nme-blogs/the-roots-of-portishead-767977

[acourtofthought]

Words, Words, and Nothing but the Words

Feyre's, Nesta's and Cassian's own thoughts and beliefs can influence our interpretation of the text or of how the actual interaction / actions between two characters might look. Anything they are seeing is through a lens that's colored by their personality, opinions, etc. and not necessarily to be taken as fact so I was curious what it would all look like if I only included the actual words / thoughts both Azriel and Lucien spoke to or about Elain (in chronological order and to the best of my knowledge, if anything is missing, it was unintentional):

“I can imagine"

“Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.”“It is sometimes,” “If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops away. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before we’re out of swaddling.”

“You’re my mate.”

“Get her back,”

“Where is he keeping her?”

“Tell me anyway. List all of them.”

“I survived well enough when I found you.”

“I need to find her.”

“My mate is none of your concern.”

“She insisted. Tamlin was … Things were bad, Feyre. I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court. I went of my own free will. And we completed the Rite.”. “Please don’t tell Elain,” he said. “When we—when we find her again,” he amended.

“I’m getting my mate back.”

“Two,” he snapped, “I knew if I was correct and called you on it, you’d find a way to make sure I never saw her.”

“She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—”

“You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?”

“Tell me about her—about Elain,”

“Elain loves this lord’s son.”

“My mate is engaged to a human male.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.”. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

“Come get me when she’s ready.”

“What of—Elain?”

“I would never hurt her.”

“Is … is there anything I can get for you?”

Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand? The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn’t dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn’t yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough. Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

He hadn’t expected her to be here.

But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

“I’m going to assume that one of those cups belongs to your sister.”

“Do you mind if I help myself to the other?”. He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet

“There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”

He had not seen her entire face since that day in Hybern. Then, it had been drawn and terrified, then utterly blank and numb, her hair plastered to her head, her lips blue with cold and shock. Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze.

He knew without demanding clarification that she was aware of what he was to her. “I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

For a long moment, Elain’s face did not shift, but those eyes seemed to focus a bit more.

he clenched his teacup to keep from shuddering at the sound of his name on her mouth.

“Yes.”

“Yes.” It was all he could say.

He wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her. “It—it was a mistake.”

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.” She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward.

Her thumb brushed the iron ring on her finger. Another male’s ring, another marker that she was claimed—

“She needs fresh air.”

“Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?”

“But you heard something else.”

“What did you see,”

“Let me do something. About Elain.

It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.”

“I think she went through something terrible,”. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”

Lucien muttered something about not needing to be monitored

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

“It—it was a tug. On the bond.”

“I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s a bond—it’s a real thread,” he said, more to himself than us.

“And I got to Elain’s end of it when she ran off.”

“No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …”

“I can help her,” said Azriel

“What other?”

“Should we—does she need …?”

“She doesn’t need anything,”. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“There is another queen?”

“You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.”

“The sixth queen is alive?”

“I’ll go.”.

“I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …”

“Yes. Let me help in whatever way I can.”

“What about Elain?”

“I’m getting her back.”

“I’m getting her back.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.”

“We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.”

“It will serve you well.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked

“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.”

“I heard—what happened. I’m sorry for your loss. All of you.”

“He was a good man,” he said. “He loved you all very much.”

“I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

“First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Are we …” “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait,”. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“Happy Solstice,”

“You as well.” “Both of you.”

“No need to trouble yourself. I’m—”

“How is she?”

“Good. But is she still …” "Does she still mourn him?”

“To accept a life shackled to me?”

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.”

And as for here …” “I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes.

“Happy Solstice.”

“Enchanted gloves,” “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.”

“Thank you.”. “This will be invaluable.”

“What happened to Elain?”

“I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“Not the ones under my command,”. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” (sounds a lot like that Nessian line, doesn't it?)

“What happened to the duke?”

“My shadows don’t like the flames so much.”

I'm not including the Bonus Chapter because I wanted to show how what's in the books doesn't match up to the Bonus Chapter as E/riels interpret it.

You can be physically attracted to someone without sharing any sort of depth to your relationship and that's what E/riels near kiss seems like to me.

To some, the bonus chapter is supposed proof of E/riel in love. But where is that evidenced in anything Az says of or about Elain in the books? Over the course of three books, he barely says a thing to her or about her. The very first time he really bothers to ask her a question that someone didn't tell him to say is when it's in regards to her powers.

And being protective does not equal romance or real / healthy love when you consider the relationship of Feyre and Tamlin. The romance is in the little moments of connection, the banter (especially in an SJM book), not the grand scenes displaying heroism. "He saved her! He wanted to die for her! It must be love!" Ummmm...... You actually need to have conversations for love to occur. Not to mention the IC (especially Az) saves everyone, including one another and that does not equal romantic love.

There is no point including the scene where Az and Elain chatted in the sitting room on Solstice (not to mention all we gleaned from that is a discussion about gardening) because we have multiple scenes of Feyre leaving Elain and Lucien alone to talk as well (before he headed off to find Vassa and immediately after the war). We don't know what those conversations were about and speculating is worthless especially because SJM couples don't fall in love off page.

The sum of Azriel's spoken interactions with or about Elain include:

Protecting her, making sure she doesn't have to serve them like his mother served others, and showing interest in what her powers could do for them. And his most major scenes with Elain are ones where he can play the hero or reminisce on being her hero 😬. The most picturesque or poetic E/riel scenes occur when they are from another characters perspective, not between the actual characters themselves, i.e., Feyre wondering why they weren't made Mates, the discussion that Az has never lent out TT, or her idea for a painting. She is planting ideas in the readers head rather than the reader witnessing any real feeling between the characters themselves. It doesn't tell us whether Az only lent out TT this time because he's never had to sit out of battle, it doesn't tell us whether Feyre gave real consideration as to whether Elain and Az have anything in common aside from being "polite". Elain was sitting silently in the garden with Az when Feyre brought up the question about mates and Elain was depressed and withdrawn. She based her questioning of fate off two people who weren't speaking and had barely spoken. Sorry but that's just strange and not how SJM builds romance. Feyre is great but she doesn't always have the best track record when it comes to her sisters.

I feel everything Az does with Elain is merely a reflection of the problems he has in relation to himself. His need to protect those he considers weak, his guilt over what happened to his mother, latching on to someone who shows a little interest in him after Mor's rejection. He never gives Elain credit for anything she's done as an individual. He doesn't talk to her about her sisters, her father, Graysen (the last two the actual sources of her trauma), that she helped saved him and Briar, Cassian and Nesta, how far she's come since she was first made (which even Nesta acknowledges), nothing. I just don't see love from Az and I truly think the Bonus Chapter is simply a result of Az feeling jealous that he wasn't given a bond (with someone) and frustration over everything he struggles with in his life. Mor not loving him, his guilt over the things he's done, the constant anger he always feels, feeling like he's the outsider. To him Elain, or the "idea of Elain", represents the path to filling all the holes he currently has inside of him and that's an extremely unhealthy mentality.

And Lucien's thoughts and spoken words? Without ever truly having the freedom to interact with her as he'd like because of the sisters consistently blocking their interactions as well as her own hesitation over having a bond, his Elain scenes include:

Wanting to know about her, wanting to help her heal, apologizing for what happened in Hybern, acknowledging her feelings for Graysen, supporting her vision by risking his life to see if he can bring back an army, expressing empathy over the loss of her father, giving her credit for her very major part in the war. Most of Lucien's interactions with Elain are about Elain. How she's doing, what she needs, acknowledging her as an individual outside of himself. Lucien isn't focused or driven by what Elain can do for him, his sole concern is helping her feel better whether that involves him or not.

And that all comes from the actual words Lucien speaks, not someone thinking "maybe Lucien thinks this!" or "maybe Lucien, that!". Even knowing that the female who chose him (Jesminda) ended up not being his mate as he'd thought for centuries, he is still fully committed to doing what's right for Elain. He doesn't owe Elain anything, he didn't ask for the bond, he didn't expect or want a bond, yet he's still nearly perfect when it comes to their bond and treating Elain as an individual outside of himself.

And when Feyre does interject her own thoughts, you see flaws in her thinking. "Elain might hate Lucien's gloves because she prefers to get her fingers cut up and dirty". There is no logic in that statement yet E/riels latch on to it, once again taking Feyre's word as gospel in the Elain / Az / Lucien situation.

Feyre herself is the one who told Lucien Elain wears gloves in the garden, there are multiple scenes of Elain wearing gloves in the garden and later, it's confirmed that Elain needs Feyre to pull thorns out of her hands because of torn gloves leading Feyre to think "if Elain had been wearing Lucien's gloves, nothing would have pierced her".

But at the end of the day, a romance between two characters is not going to happen because another character first predicted it or considered it. Rhys may have helped Nessian by sticking them together but they only happened because they were always meant to happen and he understood it's where they both were headed regardless of being too stubborn to get there themselves. They led themselves to that point and Rhys just nudged them along by placing them in close proximity.

The readers themselves are going to see the characters falling in love on page, not through the lens of someone else and it's wild that E/riels think an Elain and Az love story has already happened.

[jh-newman-opn]

Asking a theology! 🤭 (Sort of)

What's your take on how Fruits of the Spirit show on everyday-busy-run or you're late-work-work-work life? ✨

hello friend thank you for your theology

I have two main thoughts on this subject in general, which really boils down to the idea that you've got to hold space for your faith if you want to hear God speaking.

the first is that modern life is very loud and very fast, and that neither of these things are conducive to one's relationship with God. Imo this at least partially accounts for people drifting from their faith and the vocations crises. You've got to carve out time for your faith life. There's no such thing as "finding time" or "waiting until you have time", you simply have to decide what your priorities are and make time for them. Mass every Sunday. Morning prayer. Evening prayer. Daily rosary. Weekly holy hour. Yearly retreat. Whatever floats your boat, just make time for that thing. God speaks in silence and so you've got to find time for silence. Daily examen is very good because it makes you stop and reflect on what's gone on during the day, and to prepare for the next day. The other thing to remember is that sometimes squeezing the thing in is better than not doing it at all. I spent last Lent praying all 7 offices every day (more or less successfully), and ended up praying a lot of psalms whilst walking somewhere, or while waiting for someone, or while making a cup of tea, etc etc. Similarly-- 4 decades of the rosary on the bus, crossing yourself before eating a biscuit, saying grace halfway through your meal because you forgot to say it at the beginning, Hail Marys whilst you brush your teeth, etc. The ruts of routine become the grooves of grace etc etc. Practising your faith shouldn't be a thing you do for an hour on Sundays, but the substrate in which you move through the world.

Secondly, finding God in everything that you do is quite important. I was at a lecture by Rowan Williams recently, and he was talking about a saint who correctly identified that everyone needs a "mother superior", ie, someone or something that can always put you back in touch with God. The example given was of daily frustrations, like being stuck in traffic when you're late and it's pissing it down with rain. In that moment, that thing causing you frustration is what can get you your of your own head and put you back in touch with God. Take a moment, and say "thank you, mother superior". In a similar vein, I was also listening to Jen Fulwiler talk about crises of faith on her podcast, and she talks about how the "language" God uses to speak to you might change as your life circumstances change, and that finding multiple "languages" in which you and God might be conversing is quite important over the course of your life.

I think that covers the general context of the question you're asking-- in terms of how the fruits of the spirit specifically manifest and can be better accessed in our 21st century lives:

Love -- love in the Catholic imagination is about self-giving for the good of the other. So St Therese of Lisieux's sacrifice beads might be a good devotion to cultivate this one. Reframing small irritations as opportunities to grow in virtue, like letting someone else have that thing you wanted, or being glad someone else got promoted over you because it benefits them.

Joy -- joy is often misunderstood as being the same things as happiness, but it's not really. Joy is more about a state of being that persists despite external circumstances. I think this is more to do with finding sources of joy (family, friends, community) and holding onto those when things happen that mean we can't be happy. The examen is probably a good way of cultivating this.

Peace -- personally, reaffirming my trust in God and His ineffable plan has been helpful for this one. When things don't go the way I want them to go, I think about the times that God has led me to where I was meant to be by a really baffling route, and I remind myself that He is much better than I am at knowing what's good for me, even if I don't get it at the time. Two prayers I love for this are Newman's prayer God has created me to do Him some definite service, and the line in Psalm 118 that goes "I was punished, I was punished by the Lord, but not doomed to die". It's really about being able to say to yourself, "this isn't ideal and may even be quite horrible, but God has a plan for me and things will be ok".

Patience -- goes with the above: modern life is constantly telling us that various clocks are ticking and that we need to go faster and faster to achieve the things we want to do and that there's always someone younger and faster and brighter and arg it's all too stressful you may as well give up now. God's timing is perfect, and if you trust Him and focus always on moving towards Him, you will be where you need to be when you need to be there. That may mean missing out on opportunities you wanted, or getting to life milestones frustratingly late, but God has a plan and it will be ok. Slower prayer cycles like the rosary, the liturgy of the hours, or the chotki imo are very good for slowing down and reminding yourself that time is a grace.

Kindness -- number one thing you can do here is to pray for other people. PARTICULARLY people you don't like. Light a candle for your shitty ex. Pray for that irritating work colleague. Pray for those who persecute you. Then, do some corporal works of mercy. Volunteer with the Companions of the Order of Malta, or a soup kitchen, or an old people's home or something. Go to Lourdes as a volunteer. Involve yourself in other people's suffering. Fix some problem in your parish. Give money to that homeless person who is definitely going to use it to buy drugs. Better to hurt the wallet than to hurt charity.

Goodness -- goes with all of the above really- the further down the list of fruits of the spirit you get, the more you realise they're all interlinked. Also, being attentive to other people's goodness is a good exercise. Notice when people do small acts of kindness for you, or for others, and ask God to bless that person. When I was at Mass yesterday, there were three girls in the row in front of me and their bloke friend who was clearly new to the whole Catholicism thing, so I thanked God for their efforts to include him, and asked him to bless their friendship and this guy's faith (if any).

Faithfulness -- keep your routines solid, obey the church even when you don't get it, and trust that God is working for our good as He has always worked. There's always a crisis in the Church-- being Catholic means trusting that it will prevail as it has always prevailed. If you fall into sin or laxity, then go to confession, and trust that you've been forgiven.

Gentleness -- controlling your knee-jerk responses is quite important here, I think. Forgive, forgive, forgive. If someone's being snarky, don't snark back. It's particularly tricky imo when people are being quite aggressive about the Church, because it's easy to want to snap back and get heated trying to defend your faith. The truth is that often people who are very angry and aggressive are coming from a place of woundedness, and being gentle and trying genuinely to understand where they're coming from does a lot more good than snapping back. The best examples of this I can think of off the top of my head are the Sidewalk Advocates, whose pro-life work is done on the basis of meeting people where they're at, and showing kindness. This interview from the ERI was a great illustration of the principle.

Self-control -- 90% of self-control in modern life comes from putting the phone down. Delete your twitter, touch grass, go for a walk. The devil lives in your phone and he's some basement-dwelling incel from the other side of the world named Jared. When someone else takes the last slice of cake, be glad that they go to enjoy it. The three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience are to do with your relationships with money, sex, and power, and if you keep in mind that lay people are meant to practice these counsels (to a degree reasonable to their lives) as a means to holiness, then it helps order your relationship with these three things, which are really the main sources of temptation and sin.

I think overall I would just round off by saying that everything is an opportunity to turn to God in prayer. Your train is delayed? Thank you mother superior, I now have time to pray a couple of decades of the rosary. Struggling to conceive? Thank you mother superior, I get more time with my spouse as a couple. Totally infertile? Thank you mother superior, I get to adopt a child who wouldn't otherwise have a home. You're dying, you're broke, and your house just got consumed by a tornado? Things may be shit but I get to rely totally on God now like Our Lady did at the foot of the Cross. Longer post needed about the "blessed are those who mourn principle" in this case, but it's always struck me that the people who have the least problems with the problem of evil are the people who are suffering the most. Jen Fulwiler's conversion story comes to mind again.

Hope that was somewhat helpful-- feel free to ask again if not. Thank you mother superior for letting me enjoy the sound of my own voice again and all that.

[forevfangirlwrites]

come in with the rain

He didn’t want to go out on such a night, but the milk hadn’t been delivered and Ms. Stonewall always took her tea with milk and god forbid Ms. Stonewall doesn’t get something she wants.

Nevermind that it’s near close to hailing outside and an umbrella will be useless against the wind. The cook had given him a biscuit and a pat on the back and that was the closest thing he got to sympathy, but there was no avoiding the trudge out into the rain.

The only good thing, and quite literally the only one, is that the grocer was only a five minute walk away. It feels like much longer by the time he actually makes it to the small store, only minutes away from closing, drenched to the bone and shivering.

“Percy? Good heavens, what are you doing out in this weather?”

“Need milk,” he manages to chatter out, “for Ms. Stonewall’s tea.”

Mr. Grayson sighs, adjusting his wirey glasses. “Of course. Well, at least stand by the fire and warm up.”

“Thank you,” Percy replies, grateful for the first genuine act of kindness he’s been shown since he was tasked with this ridiculous quest.

He walks over to the fireplace, thankful that the people who had remodeled the house into a store had been smart enough to leave behind the hearth.

The flames dance merrily as he stands, the heat finally bringing some feeling back into his hands.

“Why didn’t you take the car?” Mr. Garyson asks.

“Evans is out with one of the guests, been out all day.” He replies, turning around to warm up his back.

“Bet it’s that Jake Cornhill, he seems like the type.” Percy doesn’t say that it actually is Jake Cornhill who’s been out so much Percy’s starting to wonder why he even booked a room, and just hums noncommittally instead.

A knock startles him. But before he can ask, another and another and—

“Good lord, it’s hailing.” Mr. Grayson looks out through the window and though Percy can’t make anything out, the sound is proof enough.

Percy tries to hold back a groan. “Mr. Grayson…do you mind if I stay here for a little while, just until it stops hailing?”

He has no idea what he’s going to do if Mr. Grayson says no. Well, other than get back with bruises all over his body.

Mr. Grayson sighs again, hands moving to adjust the wirey frames again. “Well, I’d be a monster to let you go back out there. Just sit tight by the fire, I’ll close up shop.”

“Thank you,” he responds once again, “I’ll try to make it up to you somehow.”

Mr. Grayson shoots him a small smile. “Next time, tell that cook of yours the milk isn’t worth it.”

Percy turns to the side, feeling a little like a rotisserie chicken. “I tried, but Ms. Stonewall…”

He doesn’t finish. There isn’t a person in town who doesn’t know how Ms. Stonewall is. At this point she’s taken an almost permanent residency at the guest house with a sum total of four months under her belt, giving her the dubious honor of having stayed there the longest.

“Right, any chance she’s found a nephew or great uncle or any family that will graciously offer her a place to live far away from here?”

Percy can’t help but chuckle, though he’s really not supposed to say anything negative about the guests.

“Not yet, but there may be a great aunt somewhere.”

“Who’s great aunt?” A new voice makes him whirl around and standing at the foot of the stairs is the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. Soft blonde curls tumble down her shoulders, firelight dancing across her pale skin, a hand still resting on the banister.

“The one who inadvertently sent this young man out in this weather.”

And now those beautiful wide eyes are trained on him and he doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

“…my niece,” Mr. Grayson is saying when he is able to tune back into the conversation, and to be honest, the room at large. “Annabeth.”

“Hello,” he says, somewhat awkwardly and well aware of the fact that he is still not dry and probably looks like a drowned rat in front of the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

“Hello, don’t tell me you actually walked in from that.” She’s crossing the room now to look out the window.

“Well, before the hail started,” he manages to respond, trying very hard not to stare at her.

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