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russellbee · 2 days ago

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I MIGHT SAY SOMETHING STUPID (MV1)

max verstappen x driver!reader (team & gender are ambiguous) summary. you've never been good at talking to people. you can never form the right words, hold eye contact, or in worst cases, think before you speak. so truthfully, you're not really surprised when you end up confusing max with your spontaneous confession. unbeknownst to both of you, lando brings you back together. (writing, texts, + a bit of smau) (3.3k) warnings. for self-hate & mentions of hate comments, mentions of anxiety(!!!), everyone is confused and oblivious (except lando!), george and max rivalry is very present, mentions of alcohol & intoxication, use of y/n, reader has parents (and is close-ish with them), sorry if your name is spencer (the name is used for a friend), george doesn't have a gf(!!!), mentions of sex (but it’s really nothing), and cursing. andi's note!! inspired by my beautiful adhd brain 😍😍 (and my max obsession, ofc!) the title is from 'i might say something stupid' by charli xcx but the song doesn't have anything to do with the fic!

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You've seen multiple media outlets say that your mouth is disconnected from your brain with the amount of (accidental) out of pocket things you've said. Your first post-race interview in F1 ended with you severely embarrassed because you tried to make a joke but the way you worded it made it sound rude. You had backtracked as soon as you realized how it came off (honestly, it took too long) but you still had the comments you'd seen online stuck in your head.

Every season in F1 you get increasingly more nervous to talk in interviews or to the other drivers; the comments and articles gnawing at your self esteem. But with Max it's always been different. He can laugh off an unintentional brash remark or just raise an eyebrow and in a snap you'll realize what went wrong. So, because of how easy it is to talk to Max you've become close.

You're in Abu Dhabi, the season's ended and George Russell is getting on your nerves. He's in your sight, talking to Lando and Alex; laughing. You don't dislike George, he's always been nice to you but your love for Max trumps your like for George. Love?

You're just a little tipsy. It's fine.

As long as George doesn't go near you maybe you won't open your mouth. It's always hard to stop talking the second you get alcohol in your system; not a single word is filtered, it all just comes out.

Someone is staring at you, it better not be George because he knows what you'd do for—

"Are you alright?" Max sits down next to you, gin & tonic in hand. He's so— warm. His thigh is pressed against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his jeans. (It's not really warm enough for shorts but you couldn't remember the weather from last year, so you're stuck in a pair of shorts you brought to Qatar.)

"Huh?" What he said comes back to you and you stammer, "Oh, sorry. I'm fine just thinking. I guess."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah, y'know." You really are thinking; thinking about how good his cologne smells and wondering if it clings to him night and day. Does he always smell this great? How have you never noticed this?

"What are you thinking— Do you ever feel like, really obsessed with someone? Like you see them and you want them. Bad." You cut through his question with your own (stupid) question. Neither of you are looking at each other. You're too focused on not looking at him, actually. Why do you always do this? Did you never learn how to talk to people?

You're so busy panicking that you don't notice your eyes are still on George, and Max has noticed; his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had he been reading things wrong?

You're waiting at your gate when you get the text. You feel your phone buzz against your thigh and you hope, and hope that it's Max. You're terrified to message him first, worried he heard the meaning of your question and didn't want to acknowledge it. He hadn't said anything last night. Maybe he's finally sick of you. Can't even let him speak, or think before you talk with a single drop of alcohol in your body. You squeeze your eyes tight and will your brain to stop talking. Then, after a deep breath you open Whatsapp and see it's from Alex.

alex albon

did you tell max to apologise to george?

You blink. What? Never in your life would you think Max would apologize to George. You wouldn't tell him to either. What had gotten into him? Who would be able to change his mind like that?

alex albon

y/nnn

you have read receipts on ik you saw this

You sigh, trying to slow down your brain so you can make your thoughts coherent for Alex.

you

sorry i was thinking

didn't tell him to do that

idk why he would, it's not like him

alex albon

alright thanks 👍

i think we're all confused rn haha

Your boarding group is called and you feel a little bit of annoyance bubble in you. This is gonna be stuck in your mind for the entire flight.

the best rookies

lando

i think y/n likes george

or that's what max thinks at least

alex

and how did you come to this conclusion?

george

That makes no sense

Y/n and I don't talk that often

lando

i saw them together b4 y/n left

they were staring at us

prob george tho

considering everything

george

Many people stare at us, Lando

lando

you don't getttt it

max looked like

mad but confused?? he was very focused on you

and y/n looked like they wanted the earth to swallow them

v embarrassed yknow

alex

y/n probably just said smth wrong

can't really see them liking george

george

If anything, Y/n likes Max

lando

max doesn't care when they do that tho

ik y/n likes max thats like super obvious

ugh u guys dont get it at all 😒

You had practiced your speech for the awards, had repeated it over and over in your head. P3 in the championship, a first for you. Then you made a fool of yourself, stumbled over your words. People had laughed a bit, but in the back of your mind you acknowledge it had nothing to do with the jokes you attempted. At least you didn't have to take any more photos.

Lando finds you as you're about to leave, wiping the tears off of your cheeks and steadying your breathing. "You weren't that bad you know?" Lando teases and you let out a breathy laugh. "Fuck off." He laughs and you both start to leave the venue.

You make meaningless small talk. Lando is going to ski with friends and you'll be visiting a childhood friend, Spencer, in London. You're both anticipating a better season. The valets go to retrieve your cars, and you're both left standing on the sidewalk. It's a little humid, but not enough to make you want to blast the AC.

"Did you see George's post on Insta?" Lando asks after the silence has settled. Your face scrunches up, "Sorry?" You would've been fine to stay quiet until one of your cars arrived and you'd say goodbye. Lando had other plans, apparently.

"His post saying goodbye to Lewis. The last picture was nice, wasn't it?" You feel like there's something Lando's searching for but you can't put the pieces together. "I don't follow George on Insta. I— It's not like I don't like him, it's just. We're not really close?" Lando raises a brow, and it's not like when Max does it. It's something else, and you don't understand. You want to ask why, what he's thinking, but the valet parks your car in front of the sidewalk before you can.

Lando moves forward when the valet gets out, holding the driver's side door open for you. What is going on? You look at Lando, questions floating in your head and then hesitantly get into your car. "Have a nice off-season." Lando's grin is triumphant. Not like when he's at the top of a podium, something different and unfamiliar, yet kind.

"Yeah, thanks." Maybe you just don't know him well enough.

Lando double checks everything. He looks through his and George's mutuals and looks through the likes on George's end-of-season posts. He's never been more determined to prove Alex and George wrong. (And getting you and Max together, of course!)

Oscar looks at him weird 'cause he's grinning at his phone, then teases him, asks him if he's got a girlfriend. Lando laughs it off, because how is he supposed to say that he's investigating into some grid drama? That he's trying to understand what happened after Abu Dhabi, with you and Max? George has been ruled out as a player in this game, none of you are that close.

In London, you facetime your parents. They show you everything in their little villa that you rented out for them, the sandy beaches and the bright ocean. They tell you that they miss you and you repeat the sentiment. A part of you misses Max more, and you try to push that down.

Spencer orders pizza, and you both relax on the couch as you wait for it to arrive. They make a noise, a bit contemplative but unsurprised, and you look up from your own phone. Spencer's looking at you with a wolfish grin. "Oh, no."

"Have you seen this?" Their voice is teasing as they hand you their phone. It's opened to a post on the F1 Instagram account, the caption reads: Celebrating Max's 4th WDC with pictures of the best friendship on the grid 🏆. You gape slightly at the first picture; it's of you and Max in Zandvoort '23 on the podium. You both have bright smiles, your focus is on drenching Max with your champagne. He's laughing, accepting the spray. You don't bother to look at the rest, a sick feeling building in your stomach that you've begun to associate with Max. You know what it means, but you can't acknowledge it now. You haven't talked in over 2 weeks.

The pizza arrives and Spencer makes you pay. You can't get yourself to eat a lot, too stuck in your mind to acknowledge your hunger. When you lay in bed later that night, you feel sick. You know it's not the food, you know what it is. In the back of your mind you wonder if you'll ever be able to accept your feelings or if you'll just have to get over it.

lando norris has made a groupchat

monaco dinner 😁😁 (alex albon, george russell, max 🏆, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, you)

lando norris

alright everyone. need to know when you're all returning to monaco

"You're up to something," Oscar says from beside Lando. Lando raises a brow, a teasing grin on his lips. "Whatever do you mean, Osc?" His teammate rolls his eyes before scanning the table, landing at the empty seat next to George. Everyone is here, except you. Lando pretended he got a text from you saying that you'd be late, when in reality that's not the case. He told you the reservation was for twenty minutes later than he told everyone else. His plan needed to work and he didn't want you arriving earlier than intended.

"Y/n, someone who is always scared of coming late they come fifteen minutes early, isn't here. I'm assuming you have nothing to do with this?" Lando's grin grows wider. "Mate."

"Just wait."

You arrive at the restaurant 5 minutes early, since you had to walk and that led you to being noticed by some fans. When you go up to reception and say who you'll be sitting with, the host raises a brow before directing you to a table in the far back of the restaurant. Everyone is already there, drinks on the table. Worried, you look at your watch to see it isn't even the time Lando sent. You're early.

The only seat open is at the end of the table, to the right of George. It's also right across from Max. He looks surprised to see you, putting away his phone as you sit down. George says hi and asks you how your break has been so far. You make pleasant, friendly conversation with him. When Charles asks you a question you turn your attention to him, and notice that Max's mood has visibly soured. He must notice you looking, because he inserts himself into Alex and Carlos' conversation. You bite your cheek, trying not to seem annoyed or disappointed. You still haven't talked, and it's been seven weeks. He's liked your posts; the one from your trip to London, a set of gym photos your team took, and your photos from your other trip. No comments, just likes.

He doesn't talk to you for the rest of the dinner, instead he watches you make conversation with your other drivers. You stumble over your words, make mistakes and try to laugh it off. It's nice to talk to them, it just requires more energy. With Max, you don't have to worry about your never-ending rambling or your stories that tend to not make sense. It's easy. You miss it.

Dinner ends, you all split the check and go your separate ways. After getting your card back you head to the bathroom, just standing in silence for a few seconds. You need a break, especially if you run into some fans on your way home. The more you talk and force your brain to try, the more exhausted you get. The easier it is to snap or say something completely wrong. No one deserves to be on the receiving end of that.

You scrub your hands over your face, trying to wake yourself up. In your pocket your phone buzzes once. Then twice.

max 🏆

Are you still here?

I didn't see you leave.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you make yourself type slowly. Your hands are shaking. You need to get a grip.

you

yeah, haven't left yet

you're still here then?

max 🏆

Yep. Meet you at the entrance?

you

sure

As you leave the bathroom your brain has fired up again, what the fuck, repeating in your head consistently. Because, what the fuck? Why has Max all of a sudden decided to talk to you? What changed his mind?

He's standing in the waiting area, his plain white t-shirt covered by a jacket you recognize from the Alphatauri website. The corner of your lip twitches, as you fight back a smile. He's so predictable.

"Hey." His voice is quiet, like he was scared that you were lying. Like you'd hide in the bathroom till he left. Even though you're mad at him, you can't see yourself doing that, ever.

"Hi. Um, nice break so far? We haven't talked a lot," You let out an awkward laugh, cringing internally. Why did you bring that up? And in the first sentence too?

"I'm sorry about that, I've been busy," Max's smile is weak and your heart deflates a bit because you know when he's lying. He doesn't do it often, so it's easy to tell. "I meant to text you, really." But that isn't a lie. Huh. You stare at him for a second trying to make sense of what's going on.

"Did you drive here?"

"No, didn't have time to get gas. I mean— I did, I just forgot because I've been doing other stuff." Max smiles and everything feels almost normal again. The seven weeks of silence still looms over the conversation, like it's preparing to end your friendship forever. "I'll drive you. You didn't move, right?" He has a smile on his face, the one when he's trying to be funny. You feel that sick feeling building, and your skin warms.

"No, I should though. Apparently my neighbor almost set the complex on fire, and the one across from me she— she did something weird, I can't remember. But I know it caused a meeting for the building about some policy and everyone was really mad at her," You ramble, voice picking up as you get that giddy feeling, when you know you're really being listened to. Max leads you to his car and you get into the passenger seat. On the drive to your building, you finally remember the reason why your neighbor got in trouble.

"She got in trouble because she had sex on her balcony or something, and then someone saw and reported it. Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot that!" You laugh, face scrunching with your smile.

"Your neighbor?"

"Yes!" It feels really good to talk to Max again, to feel a true connection when you talk to him.

lando norris

hey mate

how's y/n?

max

Good?

Do you not have her number?

lando norris

no haha sorry

thought you guys were dating

things seemed off just wanted to make sure

max

Right.

We're fine

lando norris

but not dating? (max has reacted with 👍)

Everything has been good with Max. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders now that you can talk to him again. You flew with him to Bahrain and now Australia. Media day is tomorrow, and Lando has texted you asking if you want to go explore, like neither of you have ever been to Melbourne. You say yes, anyway.

You're in the elevator going down to the lobby, when it stops at another floor. George is standing on the other side of the doors, and he smiles at you as he walks in. "Hanging out with Max?" He asks as the doors slide shut.

"No, Lando invited me out. He said he wanted to explore, which I don't really understand because he's been to Melbourne multiple times. Also, Oscar's his teammate so, I don't—," You stop yourself. "It'll probably be fun though, it's Lando."

"Lando invited you out?"

"Uh— Yeah? Why?"

"He invited me out as well, that's all." Oh.

Is he trying to set you and George up? The thought hits you like a truck and your nose scrunches up involuntarily. First, the questions about his Instagram and then making you sit next to him at dinner. You feel warm, anger building inside you. Is Lando oblivious?

↳ user since when are they friends????

↳ user you left out the part that lando was with them 💀

You and George walk back together, an awkward silence hanging over you. It was a fun day. You took pictures, ate good food. You had fun. It was just awkward because it seemed both you and George knew what Lando was trying to do.

You're waiting for the elevator when George turns toward you. You shift your eyes toward him, trying to make sense about what he's about to do. "Do you like me?"

Your eyes widen and for a moment all you can do is stare at George. "No, I— I don't know where Lando got the idea that I like you, but I don't." You're trying to be nice in case George does actually like you, but he lets out a breath of relief.

"I'm really sorry, Lando is..."

"He's Lando, I know." The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You both walk in and George hits the button for your floors. "You do like Max though, right?" Once again you find yourself speechless. George laughs, cheeks turning red.

"Sorry, it's— It's really obvious, I don't know how Lando missed it." You're burning with embarrassment when you look away from George and mutter, "It's not that obvious." He cracks up, and you feel yourself growing warmer.

Thankfully for you, George gets off soon enough and it's just you. When you step off the elevator, you notice someone leaning against the wall by your door, scrolling on their phone. They look up when you come to a stop. It's Max, in another plain t-shirt and skinny jeans. You may hate the skinny jeans but they really show off his thighs, so it's not that bad. "Hi."

Max walks over to you, stopping so there's only a few inches between you. You can smell his cologne, see how blue his eyes are, and how his hair is a little out of place. He opens his mouth to speak but you speak before he can. "You look good, I mean—," You cut yourself off to prevent the inevitable ramble about how good he looks; your friends have heard it numerous times. Max blinks, the beginning of a smile on his face before he leans in and kisses you.

You make a little noise in surprise before you reciprocate, you reach for him blindly, grabbing onto his shoulder. It's easy kissing Max. You've been waiting for this, the soft press of his lips against yours, the heat of his hand against your face. The same sick feeling rests in your stomach, and you feel it; the way your heart speeds up when he's near and the hot flush that builds on your skin when he touches you. You never want it to end.

yourusername close friends story

[caption: @.maxverstappen1 🤍]

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lando OMG DID IT FINALLY HAPPEN??

yourusername yes...? lando oh thank god my plan worked i was so close to locking you two in a closet yourusername HUH????

#russellbee; writing #russellbee; mv1 #russellbee; driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x driver!reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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walkawaytall · 15 hours ago

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Okay, this has been ripping through TikTok and I do not think it's what people are saying it is. Now, I have no insider knowledge, but I have been cursed with an ability to often (though not always) be able to follow Trump's trains of thought even when he skips all around and clearly forgets to bridge the gap between subjects. I blame my ADHD-riddled brain, which does similar things if I don't make a concerted effort to rein it in. Anyway.

Some necessary background: Trump was president when the US secured the 2026 World Cup, and I believe also when we secured the 2028 Olympics. That's what he's talking about in this section. His full statement about this topic is below:

And in 2028, the Los Angeles Olympics will be one of the great sporting events and patriotic celebrations in history. I was with Gianni, the head of the Olympics. And because of the wildfires, they’re going to do a special, special job. They’re going to really do something very special for the Olympics. And the opposite, some people said, oh, maybe the Olympics can’t go there. It turned out just the opposite. They came to see me the other day and the committee. And it’s just the opposite. So the Olympics is great. And Johnny, for the others, you know, the World Cup. Johnny is the head of it. We had our top people, Wasserman. They all came in on the Olympics. And then I saw Johnny. And we got the World Cup, too. And you know, it’s only because they rigged the election that I’ll be your president representing you there. So I got both of them. I got the Olympics and I got the World Cup. And I said, you know, it’s too bad. One was in 2026 and the other was in 2028. And I said, I won’t be there. I won’t be your president. But then they rigged the election. And now we won. So I’m going to be your president for the Olympics and for the World Cup. So, Johnny, thank you for the World Cup. And everybody, thank you for the Olympics. We’re going to have a great time.

I understand that this is rambling and confusing, so I have attempted to translate it into a normal, linear statement below.

My translation: When Trump was president, he was involved in securing the United States as the location for the 2026 World Cup and the 2028 Olympics. He either thought or told some people that it was kind of a bummer that he wouldn't be president the years those events took place. The implication there is that he assumed he would win the 2020 election, thus disqualifying him from running for president again. But then the Democrats rigged the election, which meant he didn't do his second term in 2020, and now he's won the 2024 election, so he'll get to be president during the World Cup and the Olympics.

It is important to note that Trump uses a lot of "us" and "them" rhetoric to stir up his constituents, where "we/us" is him and his followers and "they/them" is anyone who opposes him. It's very 1930s Germany, but I can't think about that for too long or I end up in a panic spiral. Anyway, while he obviously uses "them" the normal way -- as a generic pronoun -- I would be very surprised to see him use it to refer to his own people, especially in this context. If he were brazenly bragging about fixing the election, I'd think he'd use we. (I'm not...like, a linguistics expert; this is just an observation. But his talking points depend on heavy repetition. That's why every opposing politician has a demeaning nickname that gets beaten to death, why "fake news" has become everyday language, why he's still talking about the 2020 election as being rigged, etc. This is just another chance to remind everyone in the room that they got cheated out of something in 2020, to really encourage more unrest.)

Also, whenever thinking about a conspiracy theory, it's helpful to consider two questions:

Who does it benefit?

Does the risk outweigh the reward?

In this case, a rigged election obviously would benefit Trump greatly. However, revealing it on a national stage wouldn't. Trump isn't stupid. He chooses to remain ignorant about some things, and refuses to depend on experts when he should, but when it comes to something like this, I don't see him bumbling into a conspiracy reveal. The risk is too great.

Because something you have to understand is that, while his most die-hard fans are in a personality cult of sorts and will bend over backward to excuse his every move, he has moderate voters. He has people who can't stand him as a person, but disliked Harris more and those people would likely be pretty pissed if they found out the election had been rigged.

Also, many of his die-hard fans believe they are in the majority in our country. I know this because I have been told this regularly on TikTok this week when I made some videos related to the inauguration. Trump tells people this all the time -- that his victory was a landslide (he got 49.9% of the votes in 2024, so that is a stretch), that he's a man of the people, etc. Many of these people believe that the 2020 election was rigged, but 2024 was won fair-and-square. And while I'm sure some would be fine if the 2024 election was rigged as long as the results worked in their favor, it's too much of a risk to potentially upset his followers. Especially since...what would the reward be here?

Like, I get it: Trump's very boastful about a lot of things. But this would not endear him to all of his voters, and even for those who were okay with it...it's possible some would think it was a great "beat them at their own game" sort of thing, but it doesn't really gain him much of anything.

So, I personally do not believe that he was admitting to rigging the election at a nationally publicized rally. I do agree that some of his statements earlier in the speech about Elon understanding voting computers was weird, but it also could have just been one of his tangents. Anyway, unless there is more evidence than this particular speech, I personally think it's just speculation (though I've wondered about it myself for months).

I saw a clip on Tiktok but when looking it up on the Google I found no major news organization talking about it. Edit: Someone told me I misconstrued what he ment so I'm just gonna let this sit here and yall can make up yalls own mind 🤷🏾‍♀️

#us politics #trump #donald trump #american politics #tw politics #please actually read my commentary on this #i think it's imporant

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andhumanslovedstories · 2 days ago

Note

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.

#b.#nursing tag

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genderqueerdykes · 3 days ago

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I don’t feel like a human… but I don’t know what else I’d be either? Any advice? Thanks!! Love ur blog btw <33

i can give some general non/alterhuman questioning advice!

are there any species of animals, aliens, fictional species or characters, machines, objects, plants/flora, vampires, or mythological creatures you've found yourself feeling drawn toward in a way that isn't attraction, but rather feels like a very deep personal connection?

take it slow and examine why it is you don't feel human. maybe you don't like the body you're in. maybe you don't understand how humans think and feel. maybe you feel like you belong in another time, place, or setting. maybe you feel as though you're not from this planet. maybe you feel as though you belong in nature. maybe you feel you've lived another person's life before.

are there any body parts you're specifically dysphoric about having or not having? have you ever felt like you should have a tail, paws, ears, claws, scales, wings, horns, fangs, a muzzle, different eyes, different legs, should be walking on all fours, and so on? have you ever found yourself really wishing you could change certain features of your body that aren't necessarily related to gender?

do you feel any particularly strong connections to nature, space, fictional or mythological settings? if so, why do you feel connected and how does that relate to you?

do you have any animalistic or nonhuman gestures that you find yourself frequently making? perhaps you like to walk on all fours, perhaps you like to bark, meow, growl, hiss, moo, oink, snort, whinny, or make other nonhuman sounds. maybe you like to pretend l like you're wandering around behaving like a nonhuman animal. maybe you eat food in a certain way that reminds you of how an animal or other creature eats.

do you feel as though you have spiritual connections to any other species or fictional individuals but don't know how to explain it? instead of appropriating spirit animals if you are not indigenous, you may be otherkin, therian, nonhuman, or alterhuman instead

do you find yourself gravitating towards videos, books, shows, movies, or other media about a specific type of animal, creature, or person?

do you find yourself collecting items or making art about specific species, creatures, and so on? do you find you have a lot of items or collect a lot of art of a specific animal, creature, or fictional character? do you find that you're instantly drawn to specific nonhuman animals when you're out in the world? do you notice certain animals more than others? do you find yourself wanting to interact with specific animals more than others?

you can also take the time to learn more about animals, nature, fictional settings, space, the ocean, or whatever else it is you'd like to look into for your possible identity! just learning about nonhuman creatures and animals can be very fun, and may expose you to new species and creatures you've never heard of before. sometimes it takes process of elimination before one figures it out

some people suggest meditation in order to figure it out, but this will vary from person to person. not every person benefits from meditation, and not every meditation session is going to help you understand that part of yourself. it can be a very affective tool, but i'm gonna say this one, people's mileage varies wildly. you can also make assumptions about something you've uncovered during a meditation session and make an incorrect call by something that showed up just briefly in your mind while meditating

this is not a comprehensive list by any means, but i hope it helps somewhat! feel free to ask any specific questions you may have about being nonhuman or alterhuman! i'm always happy to talk about this! take care for now, good luck sorting things out!

#asks #answers #nonhuman #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #fictionkin

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aeth-eris · 1 day ago

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★ pac : call out/roast edition ★

★ decks used : rider waite + rebel deck ★

★ pile 1 : guy laying in snow ★

★ cards pulled ★

★ “take a shot” & “get the f*ck outside. move your ass.” [rebel deck] ★ 3 of pentacles rv, king of cups, & 7 of cups rv [rider waite]

★ interpretation ★

★ first of all, the rebel deck said it loud and clear: you’ve been way too cozy wallowing in your little snowdrift of procrastination and self-pity. the universe isn’t asking politely anymore. it’s basically throwing a shoe at your head, screaming, “stop making excuses and do something already.” you’re stuck in a rut because you refuse to pull yourself out, not because the world is conspiring against you. also, "take a shot"? yeah, that’s your reminder to loosen up. whether it’s a literal drink or just taking a leap of faith, stop overthinking and start doing. ★ 3 of pentacles rv: teamwork makes the dream work—unless you’re out here playing the lone wolf and ignoring everyone’s advice. are you being stubborn and dismissing people who are trying to help? newsflash: you’re not an expert in everything, and pretending like you don’t need anyone is why nothing is getting off the ground. humble yourself, ask for help, and actually listen when they give it. ★ king of cups: you’re out here flexing like you’ve got your emotions in check, but let’s be real—are you using that emotional intelligence for anything productive? or are you just bottling everything up and hoping it magically works itself out? spoiler alert: it won’t. tap into that maturity you claim to have and channel your feelings into something that actually moves you forward. ★ 7 of cups rv: the rose-colored glasses are off, but instead of taking action now that you see the truth, you’re just standing there like, “oh no, what do I do?” pick a direction. any direction. clarity means nothing if you don’t use it. stop fantasizing about all the things you could do and just do one of them. ★ you’re like that guy in the snow, lying there waiting for someone to rescue you while the answer is literally right there. stop playing the victim and get up. the universe isn’t going to hand you success on a silver platter, especially when you’re out here acting like you’ve already tried everything (spoiler: you haven’t). it’s time to ditch the pity party, stop crying over what could’ve been, and start creating what will be.

also, go outside. you’re starting to smell like the inside of your own excuses.

★ pile 2 : guy skating on top of beverage case ★

★ cards pulled ★

★ “be f*cking grateful” & “don't believe every shitty thought you have” [rebel deck] ★ the devil rv, two of wands rv, temperance [rider waite]

★ interpretation ★

★ first things first, your inner monologue? it’s not the motivational pep talk you think it is—it’s more like a heckler in the back row of your own life. stop letting every self-deprecating thought rent space in your head. you’re smarter, more capable, and honestly cooler than you’re giving yourself credit for. also, the rebel deck isn’t mincing words: be grateful. stop acting like the universe owes you more when you haven’t even acknowledged the good stuff you already have. skating past your blessings isn’t the flex you think it is.

★ the devil rv: congrats, you’ve started freeing yourself from something toxic—whether it’s a bad habit, a bad mindset, or a bad situationship (you know exactly which one). but here’s the catch: you’re still lingering in the doorway, hesitating like you don’t know how to leave. spoiler alert: you do know. the real question is, are you brave enough to actually move forward?

★ two of wands rv: speaking of moving forward… why are you so scared of planning for your future? you’re clinging to the familiar, even though you know deep down it’s not where you want to stay. stop sabotaging yourself with indecision and the “what ifs.” dream bigger, plan smarter, and stop waiting for someone to hand you permission.

★ temperance: balance, baby. you’re all over the place—one day you’re ready to conquer the world, and the next you’re spiraling. temperance is telling you to chill, find your flow, and start pacing yourself. there’s no prize for rushing to the finish line when you’re burning out halfway there. ★ you’re basically that chaotic skater dude on the beverage case—thinking you’re pulling off something epic, but really you’re one wobble away from a faceplant. stop letting fear, doubt, and overthinking control your moves. the devil rv says you’ve already started breaking free, but the two of wands rv says you’re too scared to claim the freedom. temperance is the friend yelling, “bro, slow down, or you’re gonna break your metaphorical neck.”

also, stop whining about what you don’t have. the universe has given you plenty to work with, but you’re out here acting like you’re skating with broken wheels when you’ve got a brand-new board. be grateful for the progress, even if it’s messy, and get your balance before you wipe out entirely.

★ pile 3 : girl mid-slip near wet floor sign ★

★ cards pulled ★

★ “get some f*cking sleep” & “don't f*cking force it” [rebel deck] ★ the empress, knight of swords rv, the chariot

★ interpretation ★

★ the rebel deck is tired of your overachieving nonsense. you’re running on fumes, caffeine, and vibes, but guess what? your body and mind are screaming, “can we not?” you can’t hustle your way out of exhaustion, and forcing things to work isn’t going to magically make them fall into place. sometimes, the best move is to just take a nap, regroup, and let things flow naturally. no one’s handing out medals for being a sleep-deprived mess. ★ the empress: you’ve got big creative energy and the potential to nurture something amazing, but here’s the thing—you can’t birth a masterpiece when you’re too busy running around like a headless chicken. slow down, embrace your inner empress, and let your ideas grow organically. also, self-care? it’s not a luxury; it’s a requirement.

★ knight of swords rv: this is you, barreling into situations without thinking, full of chaotic energy and zero patience. you’re rushing so fast you’re missing the wet floor signs in your life. impulsiveness might feel exciting, but it’s not sustainable. pause, breathe, and stop trying to bulldoze your way through every challenge.

★ the chariot: the good news? you’ve got determination for days. the bad news? you’re trying to drive a chariot with one wheel in the ditch. success is yours, but only if you balance that ambition with strategy and self-control. remember, winning the race doesn’t mean sprinting until you collapse—it’s about maintaining your focus and pace.

★ girl, you’re out here mid-slip, ignoring all the signs, thinking sheer willpower will stop you from face-planting. spoiler: it won’t. the empress is screaming “rest and recharge!” while the knight of swords rv is dragging you for acting like a chaotic tornado. the chariot knows you’ve got what it takes, but not if you keep pushing yourself into burnout mode.

so here’s the deal: slow. the. f*ck. down. let things unfold naturally instead of forcing them. take a nap, hydrate, and stop pretending you’re a superhero who can function on zero rest and pure adrenaline. the wet floor sign isn’t lying—you’re slipping because you’re doing too much. trust the process, and give yourself permission to just exist for a hot second. the world isn’t going anywhere.

★ book a reading ★ ★ masterlist 1 ★ ★ masterlist 2 ★

#tarotcommunity #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading

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starsintheskyandtheeye · 18 hours ago

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"So why the fluff piece," Jimmy asked, leaning up against the shelves by Lois's desk. Since ghosts didn't show up well on camera Perry had him working with Cat on a high society wedding over making the article look like a product of cheap ghost hunting. This was the first time he'd seen Lois, or Clark, since before they'd gone back to what was apparently ghost central station.

"You mean instead of talking about the near literal war going on between LexCorp and half a dozen religions? Or those religions spinning desperately with the fact that ghosts are real and don't want to talk to them? Or something about the scientific discoveries that lead to this mess, or the ones since? Or literally anything other than a fluffy morality piece," Lois answered, spinning slowly in her chair as she did, to stare pointedly at her partner. "I don't know Jimmy, why don't you ask Clark."

Clark smiled beatifically at his partner's sore loser behavior and it showed in his voice as he spoke directly to Jimmy. "Those are the headlines topics in all the other big papers right now, yes. But do you know why those are the big topics?" Clark saw Jimmy's confused look, and Lois's eye roll, and said, "Wait, I'll rephrase, do you know why all the other papers are reporting on the fallout from the news?"

"Ohhhhhh," Jimmy said, understanding. "Very clever CK. We've got the only published interview with an actual ghost, and they're all focusing on boring old humans.

"Still though, why the general fluff instead of a specific point?"

"Do you know how hard it is to interview a teenager," Lois answered, annoyed at the memory. "Much less a dead one," she said, a little more subdued. "We were originally going to focus more on Phantom's life and death, or the nature of the afterlife, or on how exactly the crossing over happened."

"So why didn't you? Those both sound like your usual stuff."

"Like she said, evidently the teenage ability to avoid the subject remains after death," Clark said, remembering the way the kid had managed to politely, firmly, and slightly desperately changed the subject every other time they asked a question. He hadn't heard someone change the subject that many times in one sentence since he'd asked Bruce how Selina was doing on her trip to Themyscira.

"And, much as I hate to pin my name to anything sweet and fluffy," Lois said, "It's the right article to write right now. Public opinion is fickle, showing people the humanity of these guys important. You've seen how much emphasis LexCorp is putting on the dangerous aspect and those mad scientists having so much of their work focused on studying them like animals."

"This changes the tone," Clark said, picking up the thread where Lois lost it to future story threads. "People will read it because it's the first ever verifiable interview with a ghost. And while they're reading it they'll see something a lot calmer than anything else being published right now. A story about a different culture, and a very relatable person on the face of it.

"It makes sense," Jimmy acknowledges, "but I'd hate to be in between Lois and her next story. Especially if she goes after Luthor like I heard Perry talking about." Lois focused on Jimmy at that, with a hint of the look that made him so concerned for her next story subject.

"Did Perry okay me to write another piece directly about Luthor?"

"Not sure, I just heard him saying something about the Ghost Investigation Ward with your name, his, and 'inevitable.'"

Lois's grin was downright predatory. Jimmy winced a bit and looked to Clark to support. Clark was smiling softly at his partner as she whipped her chair back to her desk to begin typing.

"Oh that reminds me Jimmy, did you get those pictures of LexCorp's water treatment facilities? Perry's busy and I think he'll be okay with it if I pick one to go with my article about lead pipes in Metropolis."

"Yeah CK, I got them like you asked, a couple where the sign is front and center and a couple where it's mostly pipes with a few branded junction box type things. I'd go with the pipes, it looks technical and gets your message across more subtly."

Clark grinned a smaller version of Lois's scary smile. He thought a moment then told Jimmy. "You should go with Lois next time. You're the best photographer I know. I'm sure you can get something usable, or at least interesting from the ghosts."

"Just Lois? Not you both?"

"Probably not no. Superman was there last time, and said that he'd be working a lot in Metropolis soon," Clark coughed a bit then said, "Apparently he went with us to take a look at what LexCorp was doing. We found some leads so I'm going to be staying here to report any developments as they happen."

"I can't decide if you're a great guy for giving Lois all the scoops on literal ghosts or a very smart guy for finding a way to keep all the scoops on what our own literal alien celebrity is doing."

"He's a menace and I'm so glad you're finally noticing Olsen," Lois chimed in without looking up.

"Oh definitely a great guy," Clark said. "Just a simple farm boy right here."

Respect for the Dead

By Lois Lane and Clark Kent

1,436 words

By now most of the world has been shaken by the news.

Ghosts are real! And ghosts are in danger! The original publication written by Lois Lane can be found here but we are not here to follow that well trodden avenue of discussion.

Here at the Daily Planet we have elected to focus on speaking to the ghosts themselves, rather than debate their existence alongside our fellow papers. During the hunt for the new source of Kryptonite that sparked this discovery Lois Lane made contact with one Danny Phantom. Originally he chose to anonymous but since the outpouring of support from much of the world he has since chosen to come forward publicly.

Given that the ghostly teenager is operating as a hero similar to our own Superman much of his personal history could not be shared. What was safe to share however was very different from what this reporting team had been expecting.

We had gone in prepared to hear the story of what caused a ghost that looks like a schoolboy to lead a life of ghostly vigilantism.

What we got was sweetly sarcastic individual giving us amusing anecdotes of his start as a hero, descriptions of the stranger habits he's gained since his death, and many many tips on how to politely interact with a ghost. At our confusion (who knew there were so many different types of ghost!) Phantom went on to explain and correct several common misconceptions about ghosts. So without further ado; here are the highlights of that discussion.

We begin with what was given to us as the number one rule of human/ghost etiquette. Never ask the individual, be they glowing werewolf, ghostly lunch-lady, or undead rock star, about the circumstances of their death.

It seems simple does it not? A matter of everyday politeness, and yet that is the number one reason for communication breakdowns between ectoplasmic entities and still living humans. Fortunately for the health of the interview this reporting team did not make that mistake. Phantom did not explain the nature of the offense but did not need to. It was clear that the, until then, friendly conversation would have ended abruptly if we had gone any farther down that path.

What we were encouraged (and warned) to talk to a ghost about was their obsession. As Phantom explained, "It's what drives a ghost, why we are still here, or why we formed at all."

When asked about his own obsession Phantom laughed a bit and said, "I'm a bit young for a ghost, so I don't really have one yet, I bounce around a lot. My doctor, he's a yeti, says it's normal for me though! The options are all over the place though. I know one ghost that haunts the high school to prevent bullying, a really nice guy. Another just wants to have her music heard by the world. Unfortunately her music brainwashes people to love her so we aren't super close. Or another that is all about granting wishes, but not in a singing blue genie way, in a fairy tale way, it's a mess whenever she gets over here."

That seems to be a common theme in ghostly/human interaction. Ghosts largely mean no harm but the pursuit of their own obsessions can have devastating effects on any that stand between them and their goal. Something to keep in mind if you're ordering pizza when the Box Ghost is at large.

Hoping it wouldn't cross into the realm of ghostly faux pas we went on to ask how old Phantom is. Once again Phantom seemed somewhat awkward although no more than what seemed to be his baseline when talking to (self claimed) famous reporters, saying only, "Time works differently in the realms. It can be really weird sometimes, you'll be talking to someone that looks like a toddler only to learn that they were last in a human world during the 1400s or something."

As Phantom continued to share however, the everlasting aspect seemed to be the least interesting part of the Infinite Realms, or the Ghost Zone as the Doctors Fenton, previously mentioned as ghostly experts here, call the place where the vast majority of ghosts dwell.

Ghostly yetis practicing medicine, while certainly not the least of the inhabitants were just the start. Phantom went on to share with us a sampling of the being he has encountered in his travels, medieval women moonlighting as temperamental dragons, the very concept of time, a warden of any ghosts that cross his path, and of course the ubiquitous creepy toddler so often featured on the silver screen.

According to Phantom up until extremely recently (whether by ghostly or human terms we were unable to determine) the Infinite Realms was closed off from our own home except for the occasional haunting. Which was explained to us by the telling of what was, to Phantom, a very funny joke about pop culture influencing ghost culture as people died and brought it over with them. From this we can glean several things. That the realms of the living and the dead have never been so far apart as it would have seemed to the living. That the near future will hold many changes as major religions, governments, and the common people hear what the dead have to say as they weigh in on what respect for the dead really means. And that while many things do translate, ghostly humor is not one of them.

Although of course that may be that, despite his real age being possibly many times our own - combined, Phantom is still eternally a teenager. And a teenagers jokes are often incomprehensible to any who do not share that state.

When asked about the sudden ghostly interest in our own living Earth Phantom had this to say, "Lots of ghosts want to go to the lands of the living. Especially anyone that used to be alive themselves. And anyone that didn't is curious what the fuss is about. Earth is so different from the ghost zone but it's still where a lot of us came from. If someone gets a chance to hop through the portal they'll go, to see how things have changed, or to keep things from changing, or just to stretch their obsessions. Really it's a chance to go home, just for a little while," he said, reminding us that for all they look like aliens ghosts are just as human as you or I.

With a few caveats.

The portal Phantom spoke of is an invention by the Doctors Fenton, Ectobiologists. Up until recently Jack and Maddie Fenton had been the worlds foremost ghostly experts, building a portal to the "Ghost Zone" in order to study what up until recently had been considered to be a non-sentient classification of emotional ectoplasmic imprintation.

We spoke to the researchers after our interview with Phantom, at his request. Despite the recent evidence come to light the couple remain the foremost (living) human scientists in the field. When asked about the setback to their work they had this to say, "We were devastated of course. To learn that we won't be able to study spooks -" Jack Fenton broke off there, at an extremely well executed elbow jab from Maddie Fenton who then said. "We got an extreme tunnel vision, a hazard of obsessive science. We were told we were wrong about the existence of ghosts for so long that we forgot to check that we were correct about their nature. We look forward to pivoting to ghostly anthropology and human/ghost interaction technology."

Ultimately we did not learn any groundbreaking secrets, but then if a ghost willing to go on record ( a written record at least, our recorded transcript of the conversation was near unusable due to static) you sit down and listen. We can never anticipate what a reader will take from an article but if we could make a suggestion? In this reporting teams opinion, the balance of ghost and human realms is not unlike the inversion of a mirror. We are reflections of one another. Opposite, yes, and dangerous to one another for it, but ultimately we are all the same. After all what is a ghost but emotion and ectoplasm (according to current science)? And for all that we try to rise above it, what is a human but emotion and flesh?

Fin.

Coming Soon!

Keep an eye out for top ten tips on ghostly interaction and interviews with the Justice League on diplomatic efforts with GHOSTLY ROYALTY!!

#dpxdc #dc x dp #Superman #Lois Lane #Clark Kent #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #no beta we die like danny

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honeyjynxxed · 22 hours ago

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DeadTired Draft

"You're very good at pretending to be a shadow."

Tim's voice shook Danny from his quiet note taking and he looked up at his study partner with furrowed brows and confusion on his face. "I'm sorry?" It was as much a question as it was an apology which meant it was neither really.

Electric blue eyes pinned him in place, and Tim looked at Danny as if he had just said the sky was green. "If I had not been partnered with you in our ecology class I wouldn't know you exist. No one at this school knows you exist besides the staff and even then you're a name to a face to a grade. Nothing else. You're very good at pretending to be a shadow, a bodiless thing gliding along the edges of society."

Danny bit his lip slightly, mulling these words over. Tim was right of course, he never allowed himself to make waves, he stuck to the background of any place he was in, and really he was surprised that he wasn't more noticeable with how often Tim Drake-Wayne was his study partner. "I guess...I've never really like attention anyway. Why, you stalking me, Drake?" He raised a brow at the other boy, attempting to hide his confusion behind snark. He hardly ever used Tim's last name, either of them, but this seemed like an appropriate time to do so.

"Hiding something, Nightingale?" Tim snarked back but there was a bit of genuine questioning under his tone that had Danny tensing up in his sit, gripping his pencil a little too tightly in his left hand. "I can only contact you through your student email, you don't have a phone number or a phone period as far as I can tell, you have a laptop that barely works and seemingly requires a blood sacrifice to do the most basic of tasks. You live on campus but you never let me see your dorm, you never agree to meet me anywhere but the library on campus and I just-" He lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair and suddenly Danny is a lot less tense in his seat. When Tim's eyes settle on him again there's genuine concern there and it breaks his heart. "I am worried. Daniel Nightingale doesn't exist outside of this college and it makes me think you're running from something or someone. If that isn't the cause then by all means please tell me I'm overstepping but Danny..." Tim reaches across the table that separates them and grabs at his free hand. "If you need help I'm here, ok?"

And oh...oh Danny's core positively sings in his chest at the admission. Protection was a major obsession for Danny and the way Tim talked, the way he explained his thought process, it made Danny feel warm and fuzzy inside despite the permanent chill in his body. Tim wanted to protect him and wasn't that so sweet? "I-" Danny stuttered before a sad smile was spreading across his lips and he gave the boy's hand a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate that but unless you have a way to somehow get an entire government organization disbanded and legislature revoked then I'm afraid this is out of your ballpark."

And really, Danny should've known better than to open his fat mouth. He should've known that the Fenton luck would bite him in the ass with his first real friend since Sam and Tucker. Tim may have dropped the conversation after that but by no means had he dropped the topic entirely. No instead apparently he had somehow gotten into contact with the Justice League because less than two weeks later Batman, Red Robin, Superman, and John Constantine of all people were waiting for him inside his dorm when he got back from a late night of studying.

What.

The.

Fuck.

#rough draft #wip #dead tired #tim drake #danny fenton #danny phantom #tim x danny #justice league

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nmr0709 · 14 hours ago

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Lucid dreaming

Aka Caleb's standard myth

Spoilers:

First off- why did every myth not have a satisfactory ending?! Infold, you'll put every single girl in depression. I wasn't over Sylus's dragon myth and then this?

Onto main-

MC visits Skyhaven, for a mission with Farspace fleet .

Caleb is super smart. Hell, he'll give even Dr.Zayne a run for his money. Fucking sly fox this guy is.

He guesses her purpose, invites him over to his place.

Beautiful house. Beautiful place.

Long story short, he's nominated as a new Commander of Tuum fleet, with the previous commander and soldiers being placed under him. MC is there to investigate this and he gives her the files for clearance.

MC notices that things ain't adding up. People who were hostile, after medical examination are now docile. Before she can catch one person, Caleb comes in with food and tells her he has a meeting.

Caleb- knows MC better than she knows herself. And has planned down 20 steps ahead of her. Never give this man chess to play. He'll wreck everyone hands down.

Cue MC snooping around( again) and getting caught( again). Really girl? Really? Why the hell .... There's a reason you're on field and never in covert ops..but Pls Learn Subtlety

She manages to steal a chip and access his files before being revoked access and Caleb confronts her. Says either you be happy and stay out of this mess or I'll be dragged to HQ and questioned.

At this point- Caleb is shady af. Like so shady he makes Sylus pale in comparison.

Next up mega banquet to celebrate Caleb's promotion.

Caleb is attacked by the previously demoted colonel and company, he sends MC away to safety while he deals with them.

Guy has no qualms about manipulating her just so she can stay safe?! Like red flag but also green?

MC waiting for him realises she's been duped, and self implants a chip without him knowing.

The man that he is- goes to her- tells her she is his forever- and faints in her arms.

Guy is scary fine but absolutely down for her. Like yandere tendencies and controlling and possesive...gurl you down bad for him? It's toxic but...idk at this point. She enables him a lot ngl

Next- Caleb faints, has a seizure, and loses all his memories thanks to his chip

MC- she plays him and tells him he is hers. Gives no in lination of telling him anything about his lost memories. ( GURLL WHATT?!!)

They go to an amusement park- she faints thanks to her chip- turns out Caleb had all his memories and was playing her.

What in the 5D chess is this??!! Caleb my man. My amazing hunk of revived corpse and flesh. Wut. I'm shook. But very very impressed with your tactics ngl. Extremely well played.

MC is taken to infirmary to get her chip removed forcefully - she will lose her memories but will retain some recall of it.

cue her throwing a fit- refusing it- Caleb somehow convincing her ( slight gaslighting?)

She's done with him. Removes his tie and coat.

Those bite marks on his hand? Hers. Apparently he gives her his hand everytime she's sick so that she doesn't accidently bite her own tongue off. ( So sweet man but don't distract me)

MC is ultimately forced to have the chip removed. Has little recollection of ehatvexactly happened on Skyhaven. And goes back.

End note-

Infold I will curate every single myth and play it on loop till you cry.

Point is- amazing amazing portrayal of Caleb and backstory. Human experimentation for the ultimate weapon, Caleb being chosen and put through it( not all details revealed yet in myth) , him being forced to give up his emotions and humanity and yet, he never forgets MC.

Caleb is the walking red flag of LADS but.. idk even at this point. Guy's like the morally grey character with a solid backstory and reasoning for it. Can't wait for more.

To the fans thinking Sylus is a red flag? Brothers and sisters, compared to this Bucky Barnes inspired persona, he's a green forest.

More on analysis and emo dump later.

Toodaloo!! And thanks for reading this monster of a post.

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holyguardian · 6 hours ago

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Aerith hummed again, deeply anchored by her task. It wasn't that she was avoiding glancing up at him in conversation. It was a fine balance of multitasking, tackling this behemoth of a task while keeping up some banter with Somnus.

After all, he wasn't posing for her pleasure of viewing him. He was her reference. The glances and lingering looks were mostly tied to the painting. Mostly.

"... I don't know, but I can guess." she offered, because it was the truth. "There aren't many Cetra left. The farmlands are mostly people who don't have magic, and it's not so much the hard-working citizens who ask those bold questions. It's usually people in the circles of nobility who... are bored?" Or who had egos that could barely fit inside the room without smothering those around them. "I think... not growing up with something in your own family... I can see why it may seem like fairytales and make believe."

It was a more optimistic outlook. Sometimes people were simply mean-spirited to be mean-spirited but she had to hope that wasn't the case for the majority.

His next question gave her reason enough to pause. The paint brush lowered and she sighed a quiet breath, gathering her thoughts before she looked up at him.

She didn't look upset at him for the question. Though the hint of a smile on her face was a saddened one. How had he done that? How had he arrived at the same thread of thoughts she had hesitantly plucked at.

"I was wondering if that would be cruel of me to offer." Aerith admitted, straightening her posture a little. "His family would have to be prepared. That means... it may not happen. I could seek their permission, and then Nikolaos may not wish to leave. It's not as simple as asking him and then scheduling in an appointment, if I could reach him and ask the question... his family would have to be prepared then and there to receive a visit from his spirit. The Lifestream isn't an exact science. With Nikolaos only recently departing, I have no doubt it will be easier to find him, but... his family would have to be prepared for disappointment all the same."

Her head shook a little. "I don't know these people. They don't know me. On one hand I don't want to devastate them if I can't reach Nikolaos. On the other hand is it my right to decide what's best for them, if there's a good chance they can say farewell?"

She looked down again, and again she lifted her paintbrush, quietly resuming where she had left off. "I thought about not asking, and simply praying after the burial rites have concluded. But... it shouldn't be a spectacle. It should be something done in private. I just don't know how to convince his family, maybe... asking them to join me in a prayer? To offer them a chance to speak with the Lifestream... I really don't know."

There it was again. How she changed. From that teasing and sarcastically prodding girl to how she was now. A little withdrawn, shy. It was as if a flower changed colours as the sun retreated from it.

She did not even look to him anymore, completely sunken into her painting. And yet he could not even tear his eyes from her, as she slowly revealed what she could do.

How could people ridicule her for this? How could they not believe her? Was she not their Princess? Was she not the living proof of ancient Cetran magic flowing through the farmlands? How could they taste the sweet juices of the fabled harvests and yet doubt any word that came from their Princess’ lips?

What she told sounded like a miracle.

“But why would they do that?”, that question came first. He did not even ask her whether she really could do that. He believed her. It sounded so fantastic; it should go beyond any imagination. The Lifestream obeyed her, though, he had seen that. And seemingly the limits and borders of death did not apply to a Cetran’s voice.

All this, it formed another thought. A question that made his tongue dry for a moment, hesitant. Somnus was unsure whether he overstepped if asking for this. Was this treating it like a party trick? No… certainly not…

“… would you be able to ask Nikolaos whether he wants to say farewell to his family?”

#somnus-lucis-caelum #verse; star crossed

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meanbossart · 3 days ago

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Hellow

I was catching up with the latest chapters of ANE before reading The Spice™️ and I was reminded of how well you build and describe the environment surrounding your characters. Which prompts me to ask:

1 Do you have any drawings/sketches of landscapes and places from ANE that you can/would like to share?

2 Any advice for someone (me) that isn’t really good at putting their characters in places? I always end up with either a ‘too crowded’ or a ‘too barren’ of a setting.

Thank you for reading and hopefully answering my questions byee:3

Hello!!

Thank you! I have no idea what I'm doing so I'm glad I'm able to paint a good enough picture 😅

I do have two VERY simple sketches of the house of blood/the compound that I made to compare against my boyfriend's mental picture of it, basically to see how well I had been able to describe it since it's by far the most challenging area to put down into text.

(everything is very boxy and not exactly the ideal proportion, but again, this was a very simple sketch I made to "aid" the descriptions rather than for it to stand on its own at all) Here you see the "apple core" of the hive with the drow settlement and all the precarious platforms that interconnect and spring out of it. The cabins you see are sometimes two stories high so the area us actually quite big! Which is how Do'zynge is able to walk across the support-beams on the underside of said platforms even though he's rather large for a drider. The catwalk pictured can be moved up and down to connect people to different floors a little faster.

Here's a similar sketch based off of an specific scene, this one focuses more on the walkways built into the walls. I'm not sure why I huddled the doors together so much, they should definitely be more spaced out.

Also, while I used the same shorthand for everything, the spawn living spaces are all wood and stone - from the doors to the floor and railings. While the drow settlement (where Dalyria is too) is mostly metal and well structured tents.

For your second question, that's rough because I am also never quite satisfied with my descriptions 😂but I think that's a part of it; you need to make peace with the fact that you will NOT be able to paint a perfect picture, and think of the whole process as less of a job that you must do alone, but rather a collaboration between you and the reader's own creativity! You have to be willing to put some of the onus on them to imagine what it is you're trying to transcribe, instead feeling under the obligation of giving them exact descriptions for every little thing.

I try to use words that evoke a specific style and mood - say that the room is ornamental, warm, say that it's all golden and red and six sentences from now mention that the couch your character sat in is velvety. Reveal things as they come into relevance instead of interrupting the pace for two entire paragraphs to describe the room your characters just walked into - when appropriate, consider what they would even pay attention to at all and maybe limit yourself to it. Set a rough base for your environment at the start of a scene and then sprinkle descriptors in throughout the prose, and always consider if you truly NEED to get into the specifics of something or if the reader can be left to their own imaginative devices.

Also, unless necessary or some sort of plot device, I find that trying to establish where things are in a room (doors, furniture, stairs) in a map-like manner is a waste of time. Just say "behind him", "to her left", "right ahead", I don't think being overly specific benefits anybody - your reader picturing this set of stairs facing the west rather than the east is unlikely to be consequential to your narrative.

That being said, don't shy away from pointing "unnecessary" things out when they help set a mood, or help in characterization. Way early in ANE there's a scene where DU drow walks into the room where him, Astarion, and Shadowheart have been staying and are now about to leave, he takes note of the fact that one of them made the bed - he doesn't say who, besides that it wasn't himself, but I put that there to hopefully establish from early on that one character's priorities had started to change. In the compound, Dalyria is described as collecting useless things she found in the underground and displaying them around the office - this, on top of her new look, outfit, and company should paint a picture. Irennor's living situation should say all there is to know about him, and the way DU drow dismantles his belongings after only what is immediately valuable instead of considering the historical significance of anything says something about him, too. That's my favorite way of setting scenes, by finding out how to say something about the people in it.

#ask #a novel experience #advice

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melrosing · 2 days ago

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who do you think jaime didn't tell cersei and tyrion about aerys? is it because they already don't blame him?

I think it’s a few things??

Firstly, there’s the fact that Jaime hasn’t told anyone before Brienne, not just his siblings. He doesn’t like having to explain himself to anyone: if people have assumed the worst, he resents the expectation that he should beg for their understanding. If they’re so shallow minded, why should he tear himself to pieces trying to win back their esteem?

Then I think he also suspects that if he did try to explain, they wouldn’t believe him anyway - the trappings of the KG and House Lannister are such that many would judge Jaime by his supposed allegiances before Jaime as an individual, and there’s nothing he can do about that. And I think that’s part of what ‘by what right does the wolf judge the lion?’ means - both sides have blood on their hands, why should he submit to their judgement?

all this gets away from the fact Jaime hasn’t told his siblings but I think it’s the context - Jaime has tried to convince himself he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. and as for Cersei and Tyrion, I don’t think they care what his reasons were either way. Cersei is not impressed by moral grandstanding, and would probably be MORE impressed by the notion of Jaime killing Aerys for the sake of House Lann (rather than the city). But by and large she doesn’t care about Jaime’s inferiority, and Jaime is happy to pretend to be whatever she wants him to be, so that’s that.

And for Tyrion, idk, I think he just loves Jaime pretty much unconditionally (even now I think he still does), and Jaime’s motivations in killing Aerys just wouldn’t matter much to him. He might be kind of impressed by the moral reasons Jaime did it, and probably even surprised… but Tyrion is a pretty Machiavellian kind of guy himself, I don’t think he’d think there’s much wrong with just taking Aerys out for Tywin’s sake, either. And I think Jaime is more or less content to be an uncomplicated figure for Tyrion, because Tyrion already accepts the rest (I.e. his relationship w Cers) without question. They never seek to explain themselves to one another. EXCEPT that one time.

So the difference w Brienne (you didn’t ask but I’m thinking out loud now) is primarily this: Brienne is not a hypocrite. she walks the walk, allying herself purely to what she believes in, which is ofc true knighthood, and all this with no ulterior motive. and somewhere deep down, Jaime holds the same values as she does. so by virtue of this, her esteem means something to him. he thinks she could see him with unclouded vision, and wants to know what she’d make of him if she did.

the Lannister siblings do not really hold the same values as Jaime, nor can they see him w unclouded vision, nor are they really interested in understanding Jaime in this way, so that’s why I think he doesn’t tell them.

#ask #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #tyrion lannister #brienne of tarth #asoiaf

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stylesonfilms · 2 days ago

Text

ink & innocence - 27

word count: 5.9k

enjoy & gomd if ur not gonna ride it like....

Aspen sat on the bathroom counter, her feet tucked into sink as she leaned forward towards the mirror to work on the precise line of her eyeliner. The black pencil glided over her eye lid with ease, her pinky nail swiping under and outwards to form the sharp wing. She sat back and blinked a bit as she flickered her eyes between both wings before smiling contently and starting on her bottom waterline.

"I can't believe you're going to this party," Isobel said in between singing the lyrics to the song, glancing at her friend through her vanity mirror. Aspen only shrugged, capping the liner and tossing the pencil into her purse before reaching to grab her blush palette and brush.

"I think it will be fun. Harry wants to go, I can tell he does. He hasn't seen Louis or Liam in a while, so I figured why not go? I didn't want to be home alone anyways."

Isobel nodded, rummaging through her makeup bag. "I get it. Did you hear Kirsten was going?"

It was an innocent question, but Aspen sucked in a small breath before popping open the palette and dabbing her brush into it.

"Yeah, but it's a big party. If I see her, I see her. If I don't, then fabulous."

Her roomate grinned, turning over her shoulder to look at Aspen in the bathroom mirror.

"Look at you, Asp. All big and mature now, eh?"

She rolled her eyes and huffed, dusting the red across her cheeks before tossing that into the makeup bag.

Aspen climbed off the counter, cleaning up whatever remnants of her brushes and palettes she had. "Do you know what you're gonna wear? It's a bit warm tonight, and I have a feeling Louis doesn't go easy on people for a party."

Isobel laughed and capped her mascara, rummaging through the pile next to her before holding up a top. "Maybe this pink tank and a skirt? You should wear one too, you know. Get all sexy," She wiggled her brows at Aspen through the mirror before they both broke out into a giggle.

The small girl padded her feet back into her room where Isobel was and rummaged through her closet, deciding on a white puff sleeve top with a lower cut, flaring at the ends, and a denim pleated skirt that had two rows of light ruffles.

She wasn't sure if she got the hang of party outfits yet, but a complaint was never uttered from Harry or Isobel. If it got cold, she'd steal the flannel off Harry's back, knowing he was bound to wear one tonight.

Aspen set the clothes on her bed, catching a glimpse of herself in the full length mirror that sat in the corner of her room. She hummed softly, adjusting the band of her shorts around her waist when Isobel quipped up.

"You know, you should send Harry a little photo of yourself. Even in your pajamas, you look hot."

"Iz!"

"What!," She cackled, "I'm only being honest. Men love that stuff. Especially when theres a little skin showing. Makes Zayn crazy."

Aspen scrunched her nose at the last comment. "Alright, I didn't need to know that."

Despite the banter, Aspen glanced back over her shoulder to Isobel. She was nose deep in the mirror as she focused on her mirror and the music. She took a small breath and pulled her phone off the bed, sliding it to the camera app.

She checked the time, only being 1:30. "We've got an hour to finish and meet them, Iz."

Isobel made a sound of acknowledgement, and Aspen could hear how she began to rush a bit. The plan was to meet up with the boys at the mall to grab a bite to eat and the Uber from there to Louis' house. Quite frankly, the girls had been starving and Aspen insisted for Isobel to eat before she drank tonight.

She took another breath and huffed to herself and her annoying inner thoughts, lifting and tilting her phone. Aspen snapped a few photos of herself. Sure, she didn't know a thing about how to send photos or what was favored, but she knew how to be pretty.

The girl swiped through a few photos before she stumbled on the one she deemed decent. She bit back a small smile, her teeth hooking onto her bottom lip as she analyzed the photo. With a satisfied hum, deciding it wasn't too out of her comfort zone, she opened up her messages and clicked on his name.

The girl scrunched her nose and smiled to herself, double tapping the message to heart it.

"I sent one," She told Isobel. That grabbed her attention as she whipped her head around and made grabby hands.

"Lemme see!"

Aspen narrowed her eyes at her friend before chucking the phone in her direction as she grabbed her clothes. "Don't snoop, Iz."

Her friend grinned like an idiot as she picked up the phone while Aspen made her way to the bathroom to get dressed.

"Fucking hell," Isobel mocked in a deep British accent, snickering. "I'm surprised he didn't 'bloody hell' you!"

"Isobel!" Aspen huffed, stomping her foot slightly. "What happened to no snooping?"

Her roommate only mocked her back before returning back to her makeup in the mirror. "He's got a point, though. You're absolutely stunningly sexy."

The girl rolled her eyes, adjusting the skirt around her waist before tugging the white top over her chest. She scooped her hair out and shook her loose waves out, grabbing a deep maroon bow clip and half upping her hair.

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Does to, and he's gonna absolutely eat you up tonight. I can say the same about Zayn with me," Isobel smirked and laughed.

"Gross, Iz!"

"Woah, woah! Me? Gross? You and Harry are the gross ones. Acting like we didn't hear you guys last week. Oh, Harry! It's so good! Don't stop, you British sexy beast!"

Aspen's face burned a hot red as she huffed and narrowed her eyes at Isobel, chucking her wadded socks at her blonde head.

"Shut up! You and Zayn did, too!"

"No, we didn't. I stopped him because we didn't want to be disrespectful to you guys. But seeing as you didn't feel the same..." Isobel snickered, zipping her bag closed before tossing the socks back at Aspen.

Aspen huffed, unrolling them and slipping her feet into the white frilly socks. She padded back out to the room, flicking Isobel in her head.

"Hey!"

"You deserve it." Aspen grumbled, walking to her closet to pull the matching maroon shoes, Mary Jane pumps with a low heel. She sat on the edge of her bed as she slipped them on and clasped the buckle.

Suddenly, Aspen's phone rang.

Harry.

She quickly picked up, holding the device to her ear as she uncapped her perfume.

"Hey, baby."

"Hi, Harry. What's up?"

"Nothin', sugar. Just wanted to let you know Zayn and I were about to leave the house now. Still meeting at the mall, yeah?"

The sound of a door opened on Harrys side, Zayn's voice a mutter in the background before it clicked shut.

"Yes! Isobel just has to get dressed and then we'll be on our way. The Uber is ten out. Is that okay?"

He laughed softly. "Course, baby. We'll grab a table if we beat you. Our's is two minutes away."

"Thank you, H. Iz said she could grab the Uber to Louis' house."

"No, no. Don't be fools. I've got it covered, yeah?"

Harry had insisted that he bought whatever he could, and that meant sending Isobel and Aspen their Uber.

"But you already got this one," She pouted, spritzing on the sweet scent to her neck and wrists.

"But nothing. I've got it, yeah?"

Aspen huffed softly, but gave in. "Yeah, okay. But just this once. Thanks so much for all of this, H."

"Tha's my good girl. And of course, 'm always gonna take care of you."

Aspen felt her stomach flutter at the name, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as her cheeks tinted a bright pink under her makeup.

"And that picture you sent?" A sharp inhale through his nose. "So fucking pretty. Does so many god damn things t'me, baby. You're the reason for it all."

"It wasn't anything like that," She squeaked, glancing into the bathroom where Isobel was singing the song as she got dressed, distracted in her own world.

"It didn't have to be. It was the best thing I've seen today, little mouse. Don't downplay how gorgeous you are."

"Unless you'd... want stuff like that?"

Harry sucked in a breath. "You'd do that for me?"

His voice was lower, she noticed. A soft rasp to it.

"Yeah, I mean.. it's just for you, right? No one else would see and you've already seen me."

Harry chuckled soft and low, licking his lips carefully. "Just f'me. I'd let no one near what's mine."

"Then yeah, I'd do it for you. Anything you want, H." She sighed contently, a smile twisting onto her lips.

"Anything, huh? You're gonna be the end of me, y'know that? I'll die the happiest man, though."

She giggled softly, a sweet sound that rang through Harry's ears like music.

"You're so silly sometimes."

"Only ever for you."

She scrunched her nose, her smile still dancing on her lips as she capped the perfume and tucked it back to its place.

"I'll see you when you get there, yeah? I love you, pretty girl."

"I love you. See you soon, Harry."

He smiled. "Bye, baby."

"Bye, H."

Click.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Over the course of an hour, Isobel had finished getting ready, they did their final touches, got into their Uber that Harry so kindly got them, and arrived at the mall.

The two girls stood with their arms interlinked, heels and boots tapping along the tile floor of the mall as they walked towards the food court. There, Isobel spotted Zayn, who she gave a quick wave to before they made their way.

"Harry's in the bathroom," Zayn said, greeting Isobel with a small peck to her lips and pulled out the chairs for them.

Aspen thanked him softly, hooking her purse on the ledge of the seat, smoothing out the back of her skirt. Just as she was about to take a seat, she felt a hand curl around her hip.

"Baby," Harry's voice came in his usual, low tone. He cracked a smile as she turned to face him, his arms snaking around her waist to pull her in for a hug. She smiled into his chest, her arms that wrapped around his shoulders giving him a small squeeze. As they pulled away, Harry pulled her chair out a bit more, tucking her back in once she sat down before taking the seat next to her.

Harry gave a nod towards Isobel, saying a quick hello before she drowned in conversation with Zayn. Harry hooked his arm over the back of his chair as he turned to face Aspen. His eyes scanned over her outfit, how everything seemed so well put together. A small smirk wore on the corner of his lips once his eyes met hers again.

He wore his usual fitted black tee, paired with his black skinny jeans with rips at the knees and his boots. This time, a dark grey flannel stripped with other whites and blacks hung off his broad shoulders. His fingers were decorated with his silver rings and his lip ring complimented his red, plush lips.

The man ran his tongue over his bottom lip, giving her another look over that made Aspen's cheeks flare with pink.

"You look good, sugar. Better than good."

Aspen gave him a shy smile, bumping her knee with his. "I can say the same about you."

He grinned, settling a hand onto her knee, giving it a small squeeze. "This okay?" He mumbled, glancing down at his hand.

Aspen nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The smile on his lips never faltered as his hand relaxed on her leg, his thumb swirling soft circles into the smooth skin.

"Thanks f'coming t'night. I know these things aren't your scene, but having you there makes it all better." Harry hummed softly, his other hand brushing through his curls. She only nodded again, a smile pulling onto her lips.

"Of course, H. Wanna be where you are always, even if it's at a huge house party where I'll feel the music shaking through my body," She laughed softly.

His eyes softened, flickering down to her colored lips, sheen with her lip gloss.

"God, I really wan' t'kiss you right now."

Aspen placed her hand over the one on her leg, slipping her fingers between his. "Soon, yes? I promise. Want to kiss you, too." She mumbled back shyly, glancing towards Isobel and Zayn who were still enamored with each other.

Harry nodded understandingly, giving her leg a small squeeze before Zayn chipped up.

"Man, I'm starving," He grumbled, flipping through the menu. "I might settle for some wings. What do ya' say, Harold?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the name, his body still facing Aspens as he picked up the menu to hold between them. "Nah, I'll go for something like a burger."

He glanced up at Aspen, who was lightly tapping the table and looking around the food court as if it was suddenly so interesting.

"What're you gonna get, love?" Harry asked softly, nudging her knee with his lightly. She hummed, looking back at him then down at the menu.

"Oh! I um, I'm not that hungry, actually."

Harry frowned, a small furrow in his brows. "Did you guys eat before you came?" He looked at Isobel, who shook her head before he looked back at her.

Aspen's eyes darted all around the menu. She was hungry, starving actually, but right now was one of those times where she got a huge wave of discomfort around eating. She wasn't sure if it was the people around or what, but her stomach just coiled in embarrassment at the mere thought.

She took a small breath as Harry cleaned closer, his fingers guiding her chin to make her face him. "Bug? Wha's wrong?"

Aspen shook her head, pulling a smile onto her lips. "Nothing, H."

His frown only deepened as she looked away to the menu, then to her polished nails that tapped along the table. He sighed softly as he sat back up, looking over at Zayn and Isobel, who both wore the same concern on their face. But no one spoke up.

Finally, Harry did.

"Can you help me finish my chips then? The burger is usually enough to get me goin'."

Aspen looked up at him, then back at the menu. There was no getting out of it, not with Harry. So she nodded. "Yeah, sure. I could go for some fries."

He smiled, squeezing her thigh softly.

After about twenty minutes, their food had come out. Harry ordered a double side of the fries along with his burger, Zayn had ordered a wing platter that he swore was not all for him (news flash, it absolutely was), and Isobel opted for a chicken sandwich with a side of mozzarella sticks.

Harry kept his plate in the middle of him and Aspen. He took a fry off the plate, tapping it into the ketchup on the side before holding it to her lips. "Louis' known to pig out on all the party snacks with Niall. It's best if we all eat until we pop," he noted, perching a brow until she huffed and gave in, taking it from his fingers to take a bite.

As they ate, Harry found his lips quirking into a smile when he saw how she'd reach for fries throughout, getting more comfortable. He gave her leg another reassuring squeeze and turned to press a kiss to her temple. "Proud of you," he whispered into her ear before the kiss, turning back to the conversation they were all engaged in as they ate.

All though he didn't know what was going on, he didn't need to know in order to be patient and open with her. He knew that some days, these things could be hard. But his suspicion stayed just that. If she wanted to talk about it, she would. He'd just keep an extra careful eye on her from now out.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The party was overwhelming, an electric haze of flashing strobe lights that illuminated the packed space in bursts of white, purple, and neon blue. Music pulsed through the air like a living heartbeat, the bass vibrating in Aspen's chest as Harry guided her through the chaos. The smell of alcohol and sweat mingled with the faint scent of chips and pizza wafting from the kitchen. People shouted over the music, their laughter and voices blending into a chaotic hum.

Harry’s protective arm around her waist was firm, anchoring her in the madness. His chest pressed solidly against her back, the fabric of his shirt brushing her shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to carve a path for them, unapologetically shoving past anyone who didn’t step aside fast enough. Aspen found herself clinging to his arm, grateful for his presence as they navigated the crush of bodies.

When they finally pushed through the sliding doors into the backyard, the air felt cooler, a reprieve from the suffocating heat inside. Strung-up fairy lights crisscrossed the yard, their warm glow casting a softer ambiance on the crowd gathered here. The tables were laden with bottles of liquor, mixers, and stacks of solo cups, and the familiar voices of Louis and Niall greeted them over the thrum of the music spilling from inside.

“Oi, oi! Shots, shots, shots, come on!” Louis hollered, his grin as wide as ever as he held up a pair of red solo cups, one in each hand.

Harry chuckled, his grip on Aspen's hip tightening as he steered her toward the group. “Always so subtle, Lou,” he quipped, grabbing a cup from Louis and passing it to Zayn. He grabbed another for himself before turning to Aspen.

Louis, however, wasn’t about to let her be left out. “Don’t think I forgot you, sun!” he exclaimed, producing a juice box from the pocket of his hoodie with an exaggerated flourish. He lobbed it gently in her direction, grinning when Aspen caught it midair with a laugh.

Aspen giggled, examining the box. “Thanks, Louis,” she said, leaning closer to Harry as if for reassurance. She pressed her back against his side, feeling the steady warmth of his body against hers.

Harry took the juice box from her hands without a word, unwrapping the straw from its plastic cover and expertly piercing it into the foil opening. He handed it back to her with a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you,” she murmured, tapping his chest lightly with her finger in a sweet gesture of gratitude.

“Always, baby,” Harry replied softly, the affectionate squeeze he gave her hip making her heart flutter.

Niall raised his cup, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Here’s to surviving the chaos, yeah?”

The group laughed, clinking their cups together in an impromptu toast. Aspen sipped from her juice box, the sweetness of the drink a sharp contrast to the heady atmosphere around her. She couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly the boys made everything feel lighter, their humor and camaraderie creating a bubble of warmth amidst the wild party.

As they continued catching up, more shots were passed around, laughter growing louder as the group loosened up. Stories of old antics and shared memories flowed easily, drawing a bright smile from Aspen as she listened. Isobel leaned against Zayn, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, while Niall and Louis attempted to outdo each other in an exaggerated dance-off that had everyone in stitches.

“Alright, alright,” Louis declared, raising a hand dramatically. “I think it’s time to turn things up a notch. Who’s up for a game of truth or dare?”

Harry raised a brow, glancing at Aspen, who shrugged with a small smile. “Why not?” she said softly.

“Perfect,” Louis grinned. “Let’s move this inside, shall we?”

The group began to migrate back indoors, weaving through the partygoers who were still crowded in the living room and kitchen. They found their way to the cozier den area, where a large coffee table and mismatched seating arrangements surrounded them.

Harry claimed the single-seat sofa with a quick stride and plopped down, pulling Aspen onto his lap without hesitation. She let out a small squeak of surprise, but the warmth of his arms encircling her soon made her relax against him.

Zayn and Isobel sprawled out on the plush loveseat, while Louis, Niall, Liam, Kirsten, and her hookup for the night—a tall, dark-haired guy with an easy grin—settled around the coffee table. Kirsten sat a little too close to him, her laughter a touch too loud as she tried to show she was having a great time.

Aspen noticed Kirsten’s eyes flit toward her and Harry repeatedly, her gaze lingering on Harry’s hand resting protectively on Aspen’s waist. Aspen felt a flicker of irritation but brushed it aside, leaning further into Harry’s chest. His thumb began to rub small, reassuring circles over her hip, grounding her. Whatever Kirsten’s problem was, it wasn’t going to ruin her night.

Louis, who was already tipsy enough to declare himself the game master, grabbed a nearly empty tequila bottle from the table. He gave it a dramatic flourish before plunking it down in the center. “Right, then! Time to spice things up. Let the games begin!”

The bottle spun, wobbling slightly before landing squarely on Zayn.

“Ah, come on,” Zayn groaned, throwing his head back theatrically. Isobel giggled beside him, nudging him playfully.

“Truth or dare, mate?” Louis asked, grinning like a cat about to pounce.

Zayn leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Dare,” he said cautiously, knowing Louis too well to trust him entirely.

Louis’s grin widened. “Alright, alright. I dare you to…” He paused for effect, looking around the room. His gaze landed on the tequila bottle. ��Take a shot—but you have to do it off Isobel’s stomach!”

The group erupted into laughter and cheers, with Isobel gasping, her cheeks turning crimson. “What?!” she exclaimed, half-laughing and half-shocked.

“You heard me,” Louis said smugly. “Rules are rules.”

Zayn smirked, a playful glint in his eye. “Alright, fine. You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered to Isobel, who covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

With some coaxing and a lot of laughter, Isobel lay down on the couch. Zayn carefully poured a small splash of tequila onto her stomach, making sure it didn’t spill onto the upholstery.

“Alright, here goes,” Zayn said, leaning down. He licked the tequila off her skin in one quick motion, immediately chasing it with a shot straight from the bottle. The group erupted into cheers and whistles, while Isobel laughed so hard she nearly fell off the couch.

“That was disgusting,” Zayn said with mock disgust, wiping his mouth. “But also kind of worth it.”

Isobel playfully swatted his arm, her cheeks still red. “You owe me for that!”

The laughter continued as the bottle spun again, this time landing on Kirsten.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asked, leaning in eagerly.

“Dare,” Kirsten said confidently, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Louis grinned wickedly. “I dare you to call your ex and confess you still think about them.”

The group collectively gasped and laughed, while Kirsten shot Louis a death glare. “You’re evil,” she muttered, reaching for her phone.

As Kirsten dialed her ex’s number and the group waited in eager anticipation, Aspen felt Harry’s arms tighten slightly around her. She glanced up at him, and he gave her a small smile, brushing his lips softly against her temple. Whatever attention Kirsten was trying to stir, it didn’t matter. Aspen only cared about the man holding her, his touch steady and reassuring, his presence a calming balm in the chaotic whirl of the party.

When Kirsten ended the call with a dramatic sigh and a round of laughter from the group, the bottle spun again, the energy in the room growing more playful with every turn.

The bottle spun again and landed on Niall. He grinned, leaning forward. “Alright, hit me with it. Truth or dare, my lovely tormentor,” he teased Louis.

Louis squinted dramatically. “Dare, of course. I wouldn’t waste a truth on you.”

Niall groaned. “You better not make me streak through the yard.”

“No, no. I’m kinder than that.” Louis smirked. “I dare you to sing your drunkest rendition of Baby One More Time by Britney Spears.”

The group erupted into laughter, clapping and hollering as Niall stood up and dramatically cleared his throat. “Fine, but don’t blame me if you all fall in love.”

He grabbed an empty bottle as a pretend microphone and launched into an off-key but enthusiastic performance, complete with spins and air punches. Everyone was crying with laughter by the time he finished, bowing like a performer leaving the stage.

The bottle spun again, landing on Liam. He chose truth, which prompted Louis to ask, “If you had to kiss someone in this room who isn’t your girlfriend, who would it be?”

Liam laughed nervously, looking at the ceiling. “You’re trying to get me killed, mate. But fine. I’d pick Harry because he’s prettier than the rest of you.”

Harry cackled, throwing his head back. “Flattered, really.”

The group kept going, the energy buzzing with jokes and challenges until the bottle landed on Kirsten again. She smirked as if she’d been waiting for this moment. She spun, the bottle creaking as it turned. It slowed to a stop, pointing at Aspen.

Aspen felt the atmosphere shift. Kirsten’s smirk widened as she twirled her red cup around her fingers. Harry, feeling the effects of the alcohol, pressed a kiss into Aspen’s shoulder, his lips warm and affectionate against her skin.

“Truth or dare?” Kirsten asked, her tone already laced with condescension.

Aspen felt a slight wave of nervousness but kept her face calm. “Truth,” she said, deciding not to play into Kirsten’s game.

“Oh, how predictable,” Kirsten mocked with a laugh, drawing out the words. Some of the group shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy glances. Louis and Niall, who were already protective of Aspen, gave Kirsten pointed looks, while Zayn frowned, his arm tightening around Isobel.

“Alright,” Kirsten said with a grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Is it true that you haven’t slept with anyone yet?”

The question hung in the air, the laughter and chatter of the room falling into an awkward silence. Aspen’s cheeks burned, a mix of embarrassment and anger swirling inside her. Before she could even think, Kirsten added with a snide tone, “I mean, we all already know the answer. It’s kind of obvious.”

Harry’s expression immediately hardened, his protective instincts kicking in as his grip on Aspen’s waist tightened. But before he could say anything, Aspen felt a strange surge of boldness, almost like an out-of-body experience.

“No,” Aspen said sharply, her voice carrying a weight no one expected. “I get it all the time. Every night, in fact.” Her gaze flicked to Kirsten, unyielding. “And the way Harry uses his han—”

Harry let out a surprised laugh, his eyes wide with amusement as he clapped a hand over Aspen’s mouth. “Alright, alright,” he said, his voice shaking with laughter. “We get the point, baby.”

Aspen huffed, pulling his hand down and settling it back around her waist. She took a deep breath, her adrenaline still pumping. Her cheeks burned red, warm to the touch. “Fine,” she said, her voice calmer now but laced with edge. “I’ve got a question for you, Kirsten. Truth or dare? Actually, I'll pick for you. Truth.”

Kirsten raised a brow. "Right, sure. Okay."

Aspen gave a small, sharp nod. “Alright. Is it true you’re still a jealous, bitter bitch?”

The room fell into stunned silence, the air electric with shock. Then, laughter exploded from everyone except Kirsten, who sat rigid, her face turning bright red as she looked around, clearly humiliated.

“Aspen!” Isobel gasped, laughing despite herself.

Louis clutched his stomach, tears forming in his eyes as he doubled over. “Bloody hell, I didn’t know you had that in you!”

Aspen’s heart was racing. She had never cussed before, much less hurled an insult so openly, but she felt oddly liberated. Her ears burned hot with red, complimenting the feel of her cheeks. Harry was grinning down at her, his wide eyes filled with equal parts amusement and admiration.

“Well,” he said, standing and tugging Aspen up with him. “I think that’s our cue.”

Still chuckling, he grabbed her hand and began leading her toward the stairs. “Be right back, everyone!” he called over his shoulder.

The group was still laughing and teasing as they disappeared up the steps. Once they reached the privacy of a guest room, Harry shut the door behind them, leaning against it with a mischievous smile.

“Where did that come from?” he asked, his voice filled with genuine wonder. “You’ve got a fiery side I didn’t know about.”

Aspen crossed her arms, her cheeks still warm. “I don’t know. She just— ugh, she made me so mad.”

Harry laughed, pulling her into his arms. “Well, it was kind of hot,” he admitted, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

She scrunched her nose and huffed, laying her hands on his chest.

"Sorry, I wasn't even thinking. I didn't know my mouth could even say those words."

"Oh," Harry raised a brow in amusement, "that mouth can do plenty good, doll."

With that, the man dipped down to capture her lips in a kiss. He breathed out softly as the sweet taste of her lipgloss tainted his mouth, his bottom lip swiping along. Once her lips parted, his tongue made way to swirl around hers. Harry groaned and squeezed her waist, his thumbs slipping under her shirt to the bare skin of her waist as the taste of her juice flooded his mouth as well.

Harry’s hands tightened on her waist, his thumbs grazing the soft, warm skin just above her hips. His lips moved against hers with a rhythm that sent a gentle hum of pleasure through her chest. Aspen melted into his touch, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself to him. Every kiss was more intoxicating than the last, and Harry seemed intent on taking his time, savoring every second of their connection.

“God, y'taste so good,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and laced with a mix of desire and awe. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss as his hands slid further under her shirt, palms spreading across the small of her back. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver racing down her spine, and Aspen couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped her.

Harry took the sound as encouragement, trailing his lips from hers to her jawline. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the soft curve, his breath hot against her skin. “How’d I get so lucky, huh?” he whispered between kisses, his voice raw and reverent. “You drive m'crazy.”

Aspen felt her cheeks flush, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. There was something about the way he spoke, like she was the only person in the world who mattered. Her hands moved on their own accord, sliding up his chest and over his shoulders, fingers brushing against the bare skin of his neck. She tugged him closer, her lips seeking his again, the kiss growing more fervent.

Harry chuckled softly against her mouth, his chest vibrating under her touch. “Easy, love,” he teased, though the way his hands gripped her waist betrayed his own restraint slipping. He lifted her effortlessly, walking them backward until the back of his knees hit the bed.

He sat down, pulling her into his lap. Aspen straddled him instinctively, her knees bracketing his hips as her arms looped around his neck. The new angle brought them impossibly closer, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her. Harry’s hands roamed up her sides, his fingertips brushing just beneath the fabric of her shirt, teasing but not crossing any lines.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his green eyes searching hers, the flicker of caution softening his intensity.

“Yes,” she whispered without hesitation, her voice barely audible but steady. She leaned in, her lips finding his again, the kiss slower this time but no less passionate.

Harry’s hands settled on her thighs, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against the bare skin under her skirt. The small, deliberate motions sent sparks through her, grounding her in the moment. He kissed her like he had no the time in the world, his lips coaxing hers into a rhythm that felt needy, electric, and utterly consuming.

Aspen lost herself in him, the world outside the room fading to nothing. The soft scrape of his stubble against her skin, the faint taste of alcohol and juice mingling on his tongue, the way his grip tightened whenever her fingers brushed the back of his neck or shifted her hips—it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

Harry broke the kiss just long enough to press his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. “Y'know, 'm so fuckin' proud of you for what you did out there. You are so god damn perfect.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of the words made Aspen’s heart stutter.

She smiled softly, tucking her bottom lips between her teeth as her cheeks held that same tint, her fingers threading through his curls. “You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, though the way she looked at him betrayed the sincerity of her feelings.

He grinned, his dimples flashing as he leaned in again, this time pressing soft, lingering kisses along the column of her throat. Aspen tilted her head, giving him more access, her fingers tightening in his hair as a soft whine escaped her lips. Her hips squirmed a bit, pressing down against his for a split second.

The sound seemed to spur him on, his fingers coming up to tug down the hem of her top. His lips ventured, lips and teeth latching onto the skin of her boob. She let a moan ripple through her chest as her fingers curled in his hair while he sucked in a deep mark, one that left her skin tingling and body squirming. The man slid the material of her shirt back up, covering the mark perfectly.

Harry's hands slid up to cradle her face as he captured her lips once more. The kiss was slower now, gentler, but no less intense. It was a silent promise, an unspoken declaration of just how much she meant to him.

As the heat between them grew, Harry pulled back slightly, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “We should stop,” he said, though his voice was hoarse, and his lips hovered so close to hers it seemed like he might change his mind any second.

He didn't want to stop. He wanted to flip her over, pull her pretty ass up, and push so deep into her until she couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to make her scream through the loud music and her thighs shake until she couldn't walk. He wanted to hold her against his chest and tell her how pretty she was while he thrusted into her with slow, caring strokes. All because of that damn fucking skirt, taunting him to just be flipped up and to take her like she was the best fuck toy he ever had and loved.

Aspen nodded, her cheeks flushed and her breathing unsteady. “Yeah, probably,” she agreed, though neither of them made a move to separate.

Instead, they stayed like that for a moment, tangled together in a mess of limbs and emotions, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath. Finally, Harry let out a soft laugh, his hands dropping to her hips. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he joked, though the fondness in his tone made it clear he wouldn’t have it any other way.

She smiled, resting her hands against his chest as she leaned back slightly. “Guess we’re even, then,” she said softly, her voice laced with affection.

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fromchaostocosmos · 2 days ago

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You do not need to be white to be a colonizer so you not be white has nothing to with it.

That you keep calling Judaism a religion is a part of the problem. Because we are not just that.

Of course there is value is cultures and societies are no longer around. The reason that I brought them up is not to say that we Jews or more accurately using our actual name יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל are more superior for surviving.

No I used those specific examples because all of them if you knew anything about the history of my people are all ones who tried to destroy us. They did their best to ruin us, to murder us, to rape us, to tell us what we could and could not do.

They enslaved us, they colonized us.

Each one of those examples I gave have to do with Empires that did Horrors to us.

And my point is even though they did those things we are still here and we have survived. And on top that there is an extra fuck you in that they are not.

It is the way we say fuck you to Arch Titus and to Hitler. It is a you tried to kill us and destroy and fuck you we are still here and you are not.

If you can not understand that I don't know what to tell you.

Like many of our Holidays can be some what summarized as "they tried to kill us they failed let us commemorate and eat and party"

Jews, יִשְׂרָאֵ֑ל are a tribe. We are a very old tribe. Judaism is the name that put onto practices and beliefs of said tribe.

We are not just a religion and that you keep calling us a religion shows that you are not getting it.

You do understand how we function. You think that we are trying to tell you how do to your stuff and that we are being party poopers.

That is not what is happening.

Christianity is not an off-shoot, branch off, evolution, etc. of Judaism. Christianity is some original ideas, stuff stolen from Judaism, and stuff taken from a whole bunch of various pagan beliefs as well from other religions such Buddhism and Hinduism.

All of that got blended and mixed and that is Christianity.

The thing about Christianity that you and lots of other people may not like, but this is just a fact of reality is that is foundations are built on antisemitism.

It set itself up by stating we are not the Jew and we are very different from them, in fact they killed our god.

When you look at the history and study it you see this. This whole thing is something gets studied by students of theology.

And this is something that we Jews have been discussing for a very long time.

Christians as individuals may not antisemitic, but Christianity the religion is founded on antisemitism and as an institution very much is antisemitic. That is just a fact.

I don't believe in Lucifer or any of them so you want to do whatever it is you do go and do it and enjoy.

My issue is and always has been when you and anyone else comes and takes that which is not for you to take.

My issue is the propping up of Christian Supersessionism (also know as replacement theology) which yes is what you are doing. My issue is the talking over Jews and thinking you know more then us on our own stuff and bringing in some sources and acting like you understand when you clearly do not.

I always find with pagans that it is either a very pleasant nice experience and the person is just respectful and the conversation is interesting. Like I enjoy it and can ask questions and they can ask questions and we both can learn things and come away with new information and understanding.

I always enjoy those and have had many of them. I always open to them and I enjoy learning so when I get the chance to understand how stuff works or why someone does something a certain that is great.

I've met many really wonderful pagans who are just very respectful of the many different groups with closed practices and want to learn and listen to those from those practices to make sure they are being respectful.

I've seen many a pagan who when asked certain questions will say that it is not for them to answer that question and then direct the asker to people from the correct community who they know are okay with answering those kinds of questions.

And I'm always thankful and appreciative that they understand the boundaries and limitations and respect them.

And then there are ones like these. And the ones likes these are always just the most exhausting, frustrating, and many times upsetting.

And the experiences like are never like slightly annoying or mildly irritating. No they it is always just the fucking worst.

And I see it happen with my fellow Jews and other people who have closed practices.

You either get a very lovely interaction even in cases where someone did something offensive or is appropriating and it is because they just did not know and they when given the information do better.

Or you get just the worst.

This for me has been one of the worst. I feel like I am talking to brick wall. Like everything I say gets taken out of context to be clear I not saying that means that everything I say is being taken out of context I just feel that way. (I do however think that there are couple things that I do think were purposefully taken out of context and/or purposefully misconstrued such my comment about us still being here while listing various empires that are not).

It is exhausting. But this is also something that I've had to do so many times before when dealing with anything related to being Jewish and Judaism and Jewish history and etc and correcting those who are not Jewish.

Because it doesn't matter what the topic might have been the refusal to let us Jews be the authority ourselves is something that goyim just seem to have in common pagan, monotheistic, atheist, or whatever.

The idea that we know better and best on us is something that can not be allowed and that is the common thread in all of those conversations.

Like maybe we are not the problem here, I know perish the thought.

And maybe for the 5 seconds you could just listen to us and like understand that I and other Jews in the comments are not trying to telling how to live your life all we are asking is for you stop taking from us, stop doing Supersessionism specifically in this case Christian Supersessionism, and like leave our things alone.

Hi, Shi! So, I saw your post about white saviours in the community and I wanted to ask about the Judaism one specifically. I am not white but nor am I Jewish, in ethnicity or religion, but I was also told that demonolatry spreads harmful ideas about Judaism. Because of that, I kind of stepped back from my demonolatry research for a moment. But your post did get me thinking. I guess I'm kind of just asking for clarification. Is it okay for me to practice demonolatry as a non-Jewish person or not? Sorry for the super long ask. Thank you, love your blog!

Okay, this is a kind of complex topic.

Demonolatry is the practice of worshipping demons. This can apply to any demon not just those with English names. There are people who worship the demons mentioned in Islam just as much as there are those who worship those with Jewish and Latin names, and there’s a ton of overlap.

The concept of “demon” can only exist if you conceive of some kind of supernatural divide between Gods and spirits. Many demonolaters consider all spirits including Gods to be “Spirits”; the distinction is not important and doesn’t have any real meaning. It’s rare to hear of demons in religions or spiritualities that do not have a dualistic philosophy, you don’t hear about Hindu demons often for example. And the word “demon” in English comes from the Greek “daimon” actually referred to any spirit or divine being. Pinpointing what is and isn’t demon, daemon or spirit is a matter of perspective.

The idea that you can only work with demons that have Hebrew names if you are a Jew is one that literally doesn’t make grammatical sense.

If you are a practicing Jew or hold an Abrahamic theology, to worship or revere any demon would be a violation of your theistic laws. It’s a sin, a big one. Every deity, spirit, God/Goddess from every other religion or belief is a demon to you because you believe there is only one true God. That means Norse, Greek, Egyptian, etc. deities are also considered to be demons.

Because of this theology, every time that people of Abrahamic religions (Christians, Catholics, Jews, Muslims) encountered pagans who worshipped other Gods, they were demonized. Aphrodite/ Astarte became Astaroth, Phosphorus became Lucifer who then became Satan, Cerberus became Naberius, and so on and so on.

It’s incredibly important to remember that just because a name is written in a certain language, Hebrew for example, that does not directly imply that the deity is closed to the religion of Judaism. Not all people who spoke Hebrew were Isrealites, and not every spirit that was described by them was closed to them. Lilith for example was a deity/spirit that was recognized by multiple groups of people before the Israelites existed as a definitive and monotheistic group. Lilith was described by the Sumerians for example, her strongest surviving name and archetype is that which was described by the Jews because the Jews themselves survived and the Sumerians did not.

Most demonic names you will encounter will either be written in Latin, English, or Hebrew, not because these demons are closed to those cultures but because their documentation was only ever really considered legitimate when it was done by the followers of Yahweh. This is one of the major effects of colonization in general. If I as a Phoenician pagan say that Astarte is kind and beautiful, that doesn’t matter to any Roman Catholic. If I as a Catholic say that Astaroth is a perverted demoness who tricks men into demonic sex, the church might actually listen and write that down. Us 1000 years in the future may look at that name and assume Astaroth is a Roman demon and not a Phonecian Goddess who was described by Roman people and documented in Latin.

We speak English, so the demons that are accessible to us are usually recorded from the Abrahamic religions that speak English- Christianity. Our demons are not cosmologically “Christian” nor necessarily have anything to do with the Christian God specifically (Lucifer is a Roman deity and would have had no biblical interactions or connection with YHWH according to their origins). But Christians gave them names and we use those names for the sake of consistency and to reduce confusion across languages. Many times, the original names have been lost and the infernal aspect and name is all that remains. It is the life’s work of many Demonolaters to restore their deitie’s cult to its glory, to discover these dead names or to ensure that the surviving name… survives.

There are a select few demons who’s names originate in the Jewish tradition, Azazel for example, was the scapegoat of the Isrealites who then went on to command the Watchers who became the fathers of the Nephilim. But these demons aren’t necessarily considered to be closed to Judaism- again, because no Jew is ever going to reach out to a demon before the big GOD himself. There is no theological reason why Azazel would only recognize Jewish or Christian people. If you acknowledge Azazel as the scapegoat and use that name, you are referencing his archetype as it was described by the Isrealites. Likewise if you use the name Lilith and consider her to be Adam’s first wife, you are also using her archetype as she was described by the Jews. But that doesn’t mean that Lilith herself is considered to be a sacred figure within the religion of Judaism any more than Aphrodite is. They’re all demons. There is only one God.

There’s a stronger argument to be made for the big three Jewish angels - Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, being closed to the Jewish religion because they literally are the angels patroned to the people of Israel and they are majority involved in the actual worship of their God- although I don’t really consider them to be closed either because, according to their theology, they would protect any human being created by God (which would be everyone).

The thing that you actually need to consider is if the deity is:

1. Culturally tied specifically and only to the people inside that closed religion- Demons were said to fuck with everyone, all of humanity, not just Jews. The Wendigo was a culturally significant creature that specifically targeted the Indigenous peoples of Turtle Island.

2. Intrinsic to the actual act of worship/ practicing itself- No practicing Jew incorporates Lilith or any demon into their prayers in the way they might with Archangel Michael.

3. Conceived of by the culture itself- Lilith is far older than Judaism and they do not claim to have conceived of her, whereas Michael was literally created by the Isrealites and was always said to act in the best interest of Israel as a nation.

4. Is revered and considered sacred- If I call Lilith or Belial nasty little whores, no jew is going to flinch, they probably agree. If I even speak the name of their God which is considered to be so sacred that it should not even be said in prayer, that’s insanely offensive. If I use the Tetragrammaton or wear it frivolously, someone is going to call me out.

Many western occultists have certainly appropriated sacred things from other cultures, ESPECIALLY from Judaism. Rather than admit their clear inspiration they bastardized the names and essentially stole incredibly important spiritual concepts (Qabalah). As much value is there is in the Qliphothic tradition it is also majorly appropriated from Jewish mysticism which is supposed to be knowledge closed to specific Rabbis. That’s why I’m not the biggest fan of people like Aliester Crowley.

This doesn’t mean to say that you can’t learn about anything Jewish, or Indigenous or Muslim etc. I try my best to always learn from people who are actually of the faith and not asshats who try to take the culture out of the practice. Some things genuinely are sacred and should not be appropriated, I don’t think that demons in general are one of those things.

It’s also important to remember that practices and deities aren’t always synonymous.

The Loa sprits of Voodoo religions are closed because they are ancestral spirits specific to the people in that culture. I can’t invoke my Haitian friend’s great great great grandmother and expect her to do my bidding. I can’t invoke the ancestral spirits of the Indigenous peoples of America and expect it to recognize me. I can’t even pronounce those names.

Hoodoo being closed to the black community is due to Hoodoo being not only a practice,but a survival mechanism of the black slaves who were imported into America during the slave trade. It was the blending of African spirituality with the assimilated Christianity of their masters. But theologically, most black people who practice Hoodoo have a predominantly Abrahamic faith, with belief in the Bible (although usually an alternate version) and belief in the one true God. You cannot practice the act of Hoodoo if you do not have the context of your experience as black person and the unique familial/ancestral relationships and knowledge they possess.

Likewise, you cannot practice Native American spirituality, or smudge with white sage because you do not have any experience or context living as an aboriginal in this land. Due to … yknow, colonization and genocide, most aboriginal tribes have opted to keep their practices extremely closed and sacred. I couldn’t even do it if I wanted to because I don’t even know where to start, I would have to be taught by the people they have elected to know this sacred practice.

You cannot be a practicing Jew if you are not initiated into the religion. Working with these fringe spirits is not nearly the same as appropriating the closed Jewish practice. What I and other demonolaters do is not even remotely close.

Demonolatry is not organized, it’s a self actualizing practice. Sure we have priests and priestesses, but we usually operate in cults.

I don’t know how to explain the irony in this take because if demonolaters and outcasts don’t work with and worship these spirits … literally no one will. The left hand path is crooked for a reason, alternative subcultures are alternative for a reason. The cults of Phosphorus and Lilith have never been as big as they are now. For these fringe deities to have survived so long and somehow even entered the mainstream is honestly incredibly impressive lol.

People who are unconcerned with being outcasted from Abrahamic theology aren’t going to stop practicing with their demons because religious people think it’s bad. I’m already practicing witchcraft. I already don’t believe in monotheistic theology, and there’s an entire rainbow of other things I do that are unacceptable to Judaism, Christianity and so on. The thing I care about is not disrespecting the actual culture and the things that are truly important to them.

You won’t really catch me wearing crosses, referencing Catholic practices, or talking about my practice in reference or opposite to Christianity or Judaism. I don’t defile Jewish or Christian traditions or bastardize their teachings. My practice is not the invert of their doctrine. It’s a completely separate and individual practice and philosophy.

This is LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO BE

TLDR: No, demonolatry is not antisemitic.

It can be antisemitic if you happen to be antisemitic and many antisemitic people have historically ruined the fun for the rest of us (thanks Crowley)

But no, practicing Demonolatry does not make you racist. Being a pagan also doesn’t mean you hate religion.

#jumblr

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