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#archetype of endurance
logicalcalamity · 6 days
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Second Hatsune Miku piece, this time with a more punkish theme, made to be used as a proxy for my Goreclaw, Terror of Qal Sisma deck.
The creatures in the background are references to cards in my commander deck, from left to right; Vorinclex, Voice of Hunger, Goreclaw, Terror of Qal Sisma, Poison Dart Frog, Archetype of Endurance, Yeva, Nature's Herald and Ghalta behind the rest of them.
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untethereddreams · 1 month
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Watching the Carnival Job and had a revelation about why I connect with Eliot so much in particular, particularly after seeing that post about Eliot and children.
It's the way he chooses violence as a way to protect the weak, about how he'll do anything to keep the people he cares about safe. It's being the hitter and taking all the hits, of being a meat shield not only because it's his job but because it HAS to be his job because nobody else can take it. It's about the physicality of it all, of breaking his own rules because he, the things he believes in, the things that make him him, all of these things are less important than the people he loves.
It's Andy choosing violence and dying over and over again but she has to do it until she can't anymore. It's Dean soaking up all of John's abuse and turning himself into a weapon because he has to protect his little brother.
It's me, standing myself between my parents and my brother because I know I can take whatever they throw at me, I have before, but by everything that matters in this world HE will not, not because he can't, but because he shouldn't. No one should.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 8 months
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speaking of the horrors brian goosebumpsphantomoftheauditorium is still So funny for being like yeah i'm a ghost i know i'm a ghost. & he's befriended the horror fan menace duo who are giggling clutching each other like omg omg okay. we're fine. we're breaking into the school at night to investigate the horrors aaaa what if there's a ghost eek ok ok!!! & brian ghost who knows he's a ghost is like omg guys aaaa stopppp ;;m;; suffering thee Most but he's not putting on an act to conceal his phantomly destiny. he's just like that
#it's brian colson i believe (unless it's colsen. but i think colson) but clearly this is clearer#the book was killing me & i'm telling you brian especially. his whole thing is being So nervous about everything all the time#which maybe that's meant to be due to [you Did die; alarmingly] but it really does just seem like Mostly personality#the cadence & content of the exchange where he's bemoaning getting paint on his clothes off to the side lays me tf out#just the dynamic like brooke & zeke are Speculating abt Schemes & Ghosts & being hilarious too; here's tina joining in; also magical#while multiple times people just completely in stride And in earnest respond to brian's complete focus on his paint stains issue#goosebumps the musical#also getting Thank You For Being A Friend points like enduring the deadly trapdoors & mystery of; for all he knew ig; a whole other ghost#he has no stake in that beyond just genuinely helping out / providing what moral support he can lol#and You Know What They Say. you probably could've revealed your ghost status & destiny & Just Asked lmao#but maybe he was too nervous like think i'll have to Haint Style Steal Your Breath or sm shit b/c that's easier than a ghost reveal convo#is that a george costanza style approach? i have never seen a full seinfeld episode. no limits to the time/effort/complexity in avoiding#some comparatively more minor issue / hurdle? i understand the like archetypical achievement character of all time in that for sure....#like yeah they Are alarmed by the apparent ghost / apparent guy who wants to kill them / you as Actual Ghost but they roll w/it too#cracking open goosebumps of all time The Ghost Next Door...#i also need to crack open (press play) goosebumps the musical phantom of the auditorium original studio cast recording again soon#brian's pleeease let this be a normal field trip to brooke & zeke's beep beep seatbelts everyone! dream team for real#completely innocuous haunting except there's a separate totally unrelated guy taking a totally counterproductive approach to things....#scooby doo villaining it will Not bring the meddling kids!! if i act scary to said kids they'll learn anything besides that I'm scary!!!#bring emile back here like yeah we'll cover for you for real though. appeal to tina's theatre devotion like become frenemies to friends fr#goosebumps ghosts you Do just fulfill your Purpose & then Transcend but brian was just a guy hanging out prior. could do that again
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another-runaway · 23 days
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funny how hard i relate to any depiction of deeply abusive father-son dynamic when i didnt actually have an abusive father. i think my relationship to western/french masculinity as a filipino trans guy is just Like That TM
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yther · 29 days
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Sometimes people have an anxious sort of FOMO after going no contact or cutting ties on various media platforms...
if you are haunted by the curiosity,
if you can't turn from the void until it answers, yearning a sort of ultimate catharsis in our own personal narrative
✨ LOOK NO FURTHER ✨
There it is, the Tar Pit.
And it is freedom from it that grants the silence you don't know you're seeking.
I hereby release you of your moral duty to fight in the pit. This is not Gladiator. But... it can be Elysium, the mythical Elysian Fields, not the movie.
(non sequitur: JODIE FOSTER in space gotta be one of my fav genres)
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mothocean · 7 months
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Man i love reading horny media about invasive medical procedures, i should start watching more media about that stuff! * tries to watch a hospital drama * nevermind invasive medical procedure scary
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joncronshawauthor · 1 year
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Archetypes in High Fantasy: Heroes, Villains, and More
High fantasy literature has a long and storied history, captivating the imaginations of readers for generations with its tales of valiant heroes, dastardly villains, and otherworldly beings. At the core of these stories lie archetypes, universal symbols and motifs that resonate with readers across time and culture. In this blog post, you’ll discover some of the most prominent archetypes in high…
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dykesynthezoid · 4 months
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Will never not be obsessed w both Louis and Armand calling Daniel “boy” and it’s never lost on me that they both have the context to understand “boy” as a social caste in a way many people (esp white people) living today might not immediately recognize… I think the context w Louis is perhaps more readily obvious to modern people (understandably) but man the reality of the word “boy” is that its usage to indicate a power discrepancy really goes back to ancient history.
In Ancient Rome, you literally could not be referred to using the term for an adult male if you were enslaved. You would forever be called a boy; “puer;” regardless of age.
Boyhood in Ancient Rome is simultaneously a marginalized, romanticized, and even eroticized position. That romanticization of youth, of youthful masculinity in all its perceived contradiction, taken to its logical extreme in such a sternly patriarchal society. The puer delicatus archetype certainly didn’t suddenly disappear with Rome’s collapse; we can see how it endures through the Renaissance, just objectively. And I would say Marius acts almost as a physical representation for the influence certain Ancient Roman ideas continued to have on Renaissance Italy, in this context. Armand is someone who actively can never fully escape his casting into this role, (can even never physically grow beyond it in the books).
In Middle English, the word “boye/boi” is most typically used to describe a male servant. Its connotation has more to do with class than age. And I think many of us are aware how that idea was preserved in American slavery and the post-slavery treatment of Black men.
I think examples like these really help illuminate the ways in which “boyhood” has always been a distinct social class, and in some cases has even occupied what is essentially a third gender role, especially in strongly patriarchal and/or martial societies.
So when Louis and Armand call Daniel “boy,” well. They certainly mean it in one or two very specific ways. (Personally I think Louis is more likely to mean it in a disparaging way since that’s the only way he’s ever heard it used for him; meanwhile I think Armand is more likely to see it as something inherently vulnerable and even potentially worthy of veneration, even if it’s in a way that’s paternalistic).
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vindelllas · 6 months
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a brief exploration of the amatyakarakas 🍸
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🍸note: any information regarding amatyakaraka placements should be treated lightly, as a good portion of these celebrities do not have verified birth information. i calculated all of the following celebrities with unverified birth times assuming they were born at noon their time!
🍸the amatyakaraka does not share the immense physical focus of the atmakaraka, but serves as the knight (amatyakaraka) to the king (atmakaraka), as it controls much of the labor/work of the chess of life. it is a karaka designed to aid you in picking a field or hobby that can allow you to fully express the passions of your graha. It is the helpful hand that guides you to who you truly are, in this post i focus on the overarching lessons of this placement.
brihaspati amatyakaraka
🌾 aesthetic: the liberation of the femme fatale
🌾 key components: shares similar characteristics to the femme fatale archetype of brihaspati atmakarakas, but inwardly is garnished with the liberated qualities of brihaspati. this is a placement of timing, expansion, and immense growth in the lens of one's work ethic. this is ultimately why these natives are known for their adventurous (and sometime controversial yet successful) business ventures, e.g. kendall jenner's "818" brand and lana del rey's controversies throughout her musical journey, which are centered around intrinsic learning via the external public eye.
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shani amatyakaraka
🪐 aesthetic: the theater of love
🪐 key components: it shares the sensual hollywood starlet aesthetic of shani atmakarakas but this karaka's lesson lies in what they pour themselves into. they excel at possessing the drive and willpower to succeed in their respective fields, but are not without controversy in their private lives. this is emphasized by megan thee stallion's wrongful sh*oting, selena gomez's ex, nicki minaj's infamous husband, julia fox's former partner kanye west, etc.. their incessant focus on their future and work, often leaves much instability in their personal lives outside of their everyday routines.
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surya amatyakaraka
🌞 aesthetic: the intersection of promiscuity and materialism
🌞 key components: this placement is similar to the materialism noted in surya atmakaraka natives, but is further heightened by this karaka's penchant for promiscuity. this placement's immensely influential nature and general desire to lead/test others can manifest as a form of sex*al temptation of those around them. from professions of acting to involvement in adult industries to modeling, there is a great need to shine their rays onto those around them. the dichotomy agni (the sun) being of purification and knowledge and soma (the moon) being water and nourishment come into play here. the sun wishes to purify and empower those around them through lessons of spiritual teachings. the general focus of the mouth in the photos of surya amatyakarakas is reflective of the mouth being the vessel of soma/the consumer of water. to achieve the purification of agni, you must first be watered spiritually.
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kuja amatyakaraka
☄️ aesthetic: the mysticism confidence
☄️ key components: drawing upon the lessons of kuja atmakarakas, a certain confidence is emphasized within this placement. this confidence lies in taking immense risks and undergoing challenging situations for the betterment of your career, talents, and desires. this is evidenced by amber heard's career-challenging court case and jennifer lawrence's recounts and statements about w*instein. this placement is not without its controversy, but it is a placement of willingness to endure immense controversy for personal gain often without the lesson-emphasis of brihaspati amatyakarakas which results in much healing being needed later on.
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buddha amatyakaraka
🌑 aesthetic: the ubiquity of feminism
🌑 key components: learning from the misunderstood lalita, this placement emphasizes a certain call to seeking maturation of the self through a higher power and intellectualism. this placement is symbolic of the overt dichotomy of girlhood-womanhood, these natives personify this experience through their accounts of the male gaze, longings for more expansion within themselves, and consuming all the external rays of others for the purpose of bettering and finding themselves (as buddha does to surya).
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shukra amatyakaraka
🍓 aesthetic: the languish of luxury
🍓 key components: this placement indicates a certain affinity yet boredom of the luxurious properties of shukra. it causes many celebrities who grow into financial success to possess a coupled, sometimes delayed, distaste of the spotlight/fame. think of selena quintanilla who grew popular with ease compared to her latina musician counterparts but continued to maintain a relatability to the public (similar to cardi b who is still considered "surprisingly relatable" despite being immensely wealthy compared to the general public).
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chandra amatyakaraka
🌙 aesthetic: the insatiable pitfalls of revolution
🌙 key components: these women often serve as role models to individuals through their presence in the media, but often serve as a lesson to the pitfalls that come with being "revolutionary". recall alexis ren who revolutionized mid-2010's social media and fashion yet struggled privately with her eating d*sorder. additionally, kaley cuoco was popularized for her role in "the big bang theory" yet too struggled with her eating habits. this is why some vedic astrologers theorize chandra to be associated with eating d*sorders, as yes soma seeks to nourish, but this nourishment (coupled with the drive/talent/profession denoted in the amatyakaraka) results in a potential for restricting soma (nourishment) to feel in control of one's surroundings--that is one's profession or environment.
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🍸all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (ascendants/rising signs) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.
🍸i am additionally offering readings again for a limited amount of time! if you are interested in a reading, please privately message me. thank you all for all of your patience! please expect the color analysis post soon since it won the poll <3
xoxo,
angel 💋
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infernally-fond · 7 months
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I don't really know how to encapsulate the impact Akira Toriyama's work has had on my life.
As a scared and stressed little kid,I tried to make sense of my life in the context of some great battle that just had to be endured. I dreaded it and I hated *that* I dreaded it - that I wasn't some shining hero ever-ready to stand up straight and face whatever would come.
And Toriyama wrote a story about this whimpering little boy at odds with all these archetypal warriors all around him that I studied like a holy book.
To this day, when life is particularly exhausting, I'll notice little doodles of an exhausted and weepy little Gohan on the margins of scrap paper, and I imagine him getting up, patting clothes to shake off the dust, and wavering into a defensive stance to go at it again. And I go at my tasks again too.
Rest well, Toriyama. Gods know you earned it.
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alrtyhoney · 1 year
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TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 
(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)
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The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)
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There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 
You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 
Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.
He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.
You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 
“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 
The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 
– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.
“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 
“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”
You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.
Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 
“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 
She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 
The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?
She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.
“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 
It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.
“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”
But you knew that wasn’t the case. 
While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 
It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 
This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.
“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 
It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.
“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."
Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 
“No reason.” 
It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 
Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?
You dared not to talk about it too.
Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.
But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 
You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.
Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.
Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 
The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 
His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.
“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 
The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 
“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 
“But I worked really hard for this.”
You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.
He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”
If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?
You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 
He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 
“Of course.” 
After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.
But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.
The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.
“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”
And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 
“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 
“Not hungry.” 
Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”
“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.
“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”
Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 
You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.
Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 
You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”
His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 
And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 
“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 
He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”
“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.
Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 
“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”
“And it was my birthday!” 
“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.
“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 
“I have work, baby, you know this.” 
“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.
And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”
Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  
It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"
But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”
And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 
You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?
“My birthday was two days ago.” 
He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 
“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 
He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.
“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”
You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 
The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.
You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.
“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 
And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?
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sotiredmostnights · 28 days
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i know everyone likes to put tharja in the "yandere goth girl" category but tbh i feel like pigeonholing her into one specific archetype does a huge disservice to her character. is she obsessed with curses and robin? yes. is she constantly shoved into a fanservice role by intsys? absolutely.
but i think a lot of people forget just how impactful a lot of her supports are...there's something about tharja that makes nearly everyone who interacts with her divulge their deepest secrets and points of anxiety with her. we see this with libra, who tells her of the abandonment he endured at the hands of his parents. we see it with nowi, whose cheerful demeanor slips off as she tells tharja of her missing parents. and although tharja is not the only one lon'qu confides in regarding ke'ri, their support is notably the only one in which lon'qu divulges that there was romantic involvement between he and his childhood friend.
and despite her antisocial exterior, she always listens mindfully and offers to help! she even goes out of her way to discreetly help the shepherds (getting virion to do odd jobs that benefit civilians, interrogating henry to make sure he bears no ill will towards ylisse, etc).
a big thing about tharja is that she IS kind. she IS considerate. she just also has a reputation to uphold as a dark mage and that (paired with her overall awkwardness ofc) makes her true nature hard to see at first glance
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shoyostar · 10 months
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MARY ANN.
── HAJIME IWAIZUMI ┊ HAIKYUU!!
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“Ginger or Mary Ann?” A common question referring to the old American sitcom from the 1960’s “Gilligan’s Island” that essentially asked what type of girl you were into.
content. childhood friend!iwaizumi / f!reader. fluff. cali!iwa. longterm pining. vv short. LDR (kind of?).
haikyuu!! masterlist.
❥ love letter from vie. i shit this out last night and i can’t bring myself to make it into a full oneshot rn so i just refined it a little . . .
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Culture shock is a funny thing.
Iwaizumi has no idea what his California classmates mean one day when they walk up to him after his lecture — new to the country and knowing only the bare basics of english when they ask him;
“Ginger or Mary Ann?”
Not knowing the implications of their question he shrugs unsurely, “Ginger” he says, thinking of the warm spice he uses when cooking meals, reminding him of his home back in Japan.
They click their tongues, patting him on the back and jeer about how he has good taste and invite him out to a bar that weekend. And Iwaizumi — still as unsure as before, accepts.
It’s now been a few years overseas. Iwaizumi is on his way to finishing his degree in Sports Science, eager to finally be rid of university and all the gripes that comes with it.
California took some time to get used to, it’s a lot more different than Japan in every way possible, only amplified by the reverse culture-shock that occurs whenever he visits Japan again for school breaks.
When he is reminded of you.
Standing at the airport, waving him over with a sign in his native tongue his feet move just a little faster than before, tired eyes lighting up as his carry on bag’s wheels drag on the floor and skid to halt when he reaches you.
Big, strong and tanned arms envelope you in a hug, Iwaizumi smells of hot sand and sea water always when he comes to visit, you’ve only learned to grow more fond of the scent each time you greet him.
You always make sure to visit the same areas you and Iwaizumi used to hang around at when you were little — as if Iwaizumi will never come back to Japan again. “For old times sake,” you say, even if Iwaizumi has told you he’s already planning to come back when summer hits because California summers are harsh.
Watching you wade around in that old creek searching for salamanders like you always do when he flies over brings Iwaizumi back to a simpler time in his life, and he is again reminded of that one question from several years prior by his friends.
“Ginger or Mary Ann?”
It took some getting used to, but Iwaizumi soon learned from his American friends, the ones he made by accepting their bar invite, what that peculiar question meant. Originating from an old sitcom, containing the names of two characters in the show — each displaying a different character archetype.
He’s even watched a couple of reruns of the show with them, where it was then they had told him it was the equivalent of asking what kind of girls he was into, and that his initial response, “Ginger,” did not mean of the spice but instead that he was into a more sophisticated type of woman.
Glamourous even, they’d say.
But after every school break, when Iwaizumi is forced to endure another 12 hour long flight back to California and back into the little pocket of sun and heatwaves, his friends ask him again with knowing smirks, “Ginger or Mary Ann?”
It’s a running joke at this point with their friendgroup, since Iwaizumi had no idea of it’s meaning the first time they always bring it up in conversation, cackling at how red he turns with embarrassment before the next topic is brought up.
But their little tease ignites something in Iwaizumi.
He thinks back to you, all the way in Japan, who is probably still going to that same old family run convenience store the two of you have been raiding of their snack stock since you were seven.
Thinking about how you probably still take that old shortcut behind the forest he found when he was eight to make it to the bus on time for work.
How you’ve always lived two doors down from him before he flew to California, always coming home from his house late into the night because you two were trying to catch fireflies during late spring in your teenage years, hoping to jar a few as a night light while camping out in his backyard.
Iwaizumi asks the same question thats been brought up several times before, once as genuine curiousity and others as just a tease.
Ginger, or Mary Ann?
And despite telling his American friends “Ginger” the first time they met, every subsequent question, jeer and laugh has been met with the same new response without fail.
“Mary Ann.”
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.
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thepersonnamedsam · 10 months
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she got this - op81
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pairing: oscar piastri x academic!girlfriend
summary: oscar visits his girlfriends bachelor thesis defending
word count: 1.3k
face claim: phoebe bridgers
warnings: a swear word, some angst - mentions of a panic attack
note: this is for my baby @lissyontour, you got this, pls wish her good luck for today <3
oh and it’s my first oscar fic, hihi, enjoy it
and there is some of the bachelor thesis… i had to include some of it, thanks to chat gpt
masterlist / taglist
Fuck, was she nervous. Her head was spinning and her legs were jelly - no, scratch that - her legs were liquid.
Her eyes were trying to focus on something, just something that would help her back to reality. She knew she was somewhere else right now, somewhere where she shouldn’t be.
Why wasn’t Oscar with her? Why was she alone? This was not how she planned it!
Her heart was beating, she felt it nearly pop out of her chest. It almost hurt. Oscar should’ve been here with her, but a last minute meeting with Zak just threw her plans overboard.
Her breath quickend and her hands searched for the only safe thing she could think of, her phone. Her fingers quickly glided over the screen and Oscars answer made her hold her breath for a second.
Standing in front of the auditorium, the heavy red doors made her uneasy. It’s gonna be time soon.
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Oscar had to hold himself back not to text her that he was actually sitting in the front row and waiting for her to enter the room. He knew it was cruel. But he just had to do it.
He was so much more nervous than her. He watched her write that bachelor thesis for over six months now. At every race she was sitting in his drivers room with at least ten books and her laptop. Only just for the last five laps she came out of the room to watch him race.
He appreciated her coming, she could’ve just stayed at home and studied, but she always came with. Multitasking her way through her studies. And he was so proud of her. There was no way he would miss her final step of the way.
And he knew his cruelty was all worth it, as she stepped into the room and her eyes spotted his. Her whole face lit up and he could almost spot some tears of relief.
„What are you doing here?“, she mouthed. A small smile on her lips. „Supporting you“, he mouthed back, matching her smile.
„Welcome Ms y/l/n!“, her professor welcomed her. „I am exited to hear you defend your bachelor thesis about; How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“
She smiled at her favourite teacher and took out her thesis. She closed her eyes for a second, breathed in and out again. She was ready. Oscar knew she studied English literature and oh did that make her sexy.
But he had no idea of Greek Mythology or modern literature by any means. Yes, he read her thesis at least twice, but did his brain understand anything she meant? It did not. Being the smart one was all her job.
„Welcome Professor McAllister, dear colleagues, guests and friends. I hereby welcome you dearly to my defending of my bachelor thesis: How Greek Mythology influenced modern literature.“
Oscar listened intently and always smiled when she looked at him for reassurance. His heart was swelling with proudness. He soon had a girlfriend with a bachelor degree.
„In the vast tapestry of literary evolution, Greek mythology stands as an enduring thread, weaving its timeless narratives into the very fabric of modern literature. As contemporary authors navigate the labyrinth of inspiration, they find themselves entwined with the rich tapestry of gods, heroes, and mythical creatures that originated in ancient Greece.
The resurgence of interest in Greek mythology can be traced to its profound impact on archetypal storytelling. From the lofty heights of Mount Olympus to the depths of the Underworld, these tales resonate with universal themes that transcend temporal and cultural boundaries. Authors draw from the exploits of Zeus, the sagas of heroes like Achilles, and the tragedies of figures like Oedipus to explore complex facets of human nature. The gods' capriciousness mirrors the unpredictable forces that shape our destinies, while the struggles of mortals against divine intervention echo the perennial human quest for agency in the face of cosmic uncertainty.
Prominent literary figures, from James Joyce to J.K. Rowling, have paid homage to Greek mythology, infusing their works with echoes of ancient narratives. The hero's journey, a concept rooted in the mythic structure of heroes like Perseus and Hercules, serves as a narrative template for protagonists in contemporary novels. These echoes are not mere nostalgic nods; they represent a perennial dialogue between past and present, a dialogue in which timeless themes find new expression.
Moreover, the enduring allure of Greek mythology lies in its malleability. Authors wield the myths as allegorical tools to explore issues ranging from power dynamics and hubris to the nuances of morality. The Hydra of Lerna becomes a metaphor for societal challenges that sprout anew when seemingly eradicated, and the labyrinthine trials of Theseus mirror the complexities of modern ethical dilemmas.
In essence, the enduring influence of Greek mythology on modern literature is a testament to the universality of its themes and the perennial resonance of its characters. As authors continue to delve into the wellspring of ancient tales, they discover not relics of a bygone era, but rather a living reservoir of inspiration that fuels the imagination of generations, perpetuating the eternal dance between the ancient and the contemporary.“
Her voice angelic as it could be, drew in people who never even heard of the topic. You didn’t have to be interested in Greek Mythology to listen to her thesis, because she delivered her speech that even Oscar understood and left him wanting to know more about it.
My god was he proud. He was in awe, his beautiful girlfriend standing up there, speaking about her passion and delivering it in a way he never thought she could.
Even the look on Professor McAllister made him proud. She looked at his girlfriend with a proud smile, nodding along with her and reassuring her. She was gonna ace this.
Oscar was snapped out of it when the whole auditorium clapped. She was standing with the biggest smile on that stage. Oscar just had to get a picture of her. His new wallpaper.
„Thank you, Ms y/l/n. This was magnificent! We‘ll just discuss real quick and we‘ll be back with your grade. You can be proud of yourself, Ms y/l/n“, Professor McAllister told the young woman on stage.
And as soon as they left the room, she squealed and ran to Oscar. He opened his arms and let the girl spring into his embrace. „Hi“, he whispered. „Hi“, she whispered back. „I thought you weren’t coming?“
He laughed, a real deep belly laugh. „I had to surprise you!“ She hit his shoulder and said: „I hate you, but I’m glad you came.“
„You did so well, my love. I am so proud of you! We have to celebrate afterwards, anything you want.“
The time together was cut short, when the door opened again and the four professors walked in again. „Ms y/l/n, please, have a seat“, her professor said and pointed to the chair sat in front of the four.
She nervously walked over to them and smiled at them. „No need to be nervous, you did well, you can be proud of yourself.“
They talked stuff Oscar didn’t understand. But when he saw a big smile form on her face, he knew she received the best grade she could’ve. Proud, that’s the only word that came to Oscar’s mind.
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„I love the boys“, she told Oscar. He smiled up at her and said: „I know you do, but only I can celebrate with you today.“ She giggled and would’ve almost kicked her feet, if it weren’t for the others in the room.
Professor McAllister handed y/n her diploma and told her they’d see each other at official ceremony. After that, Oscar and his girlfriend almost sprinted out of the auditorium.
oscarpiastri
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liked by yninsta, landonorris and 82‘729 others
oscarpiastri how did we get from that to this?
view all 22‘219 comments
yninsta the first one is NOT me, idk where you got this from
user1 weren’t we all at that point during our studies?
user2 yes, yes we were
yninsta glad i wasn’t alone…
oscarpiastri so it was you
yninsta oop-
landonorris congrats, y/n! when we gonna get a lecture about greek mythology from you?
yninsta any day you want
landonorris now?
oscarpiastri no, now she’s busy with me
landonorris ewww, my eyes are scarred, don’t ever come back to the mclaren garage
oscarpiastri i didn’t mean it that way
yninsta he did
landonorris you’re just kids
user3 we love an academic wag
user4 so proud of you, y/n!
mclaren congratulations, y/n, next podium is for you 🍾
yninsta thank you, admin
yninsta thank you, baby
oscarpiastri i am so proud of you, darling
loganseargant i cannot believe i have a friend with a bachelors degree…
yninsta better believe it, american boy
user4 do u even know what a bachelors degree is..?
user5 american slander, we love it
alex_albon we are all proud, y/n
user6 we really are
yninsta thank you all so much, i love you guys so much
georgerussel63 oh no, she’s getting sentimental, let’s stop here guys
°°°
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thecuddlycauldron · 3 months
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Pick a card!
What your future friends will be like.
✩°。🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚ These are general readings, only take what resonates and leave the rest! These are only meant to be for fun and nothing else. Trust your intuition and don't overthink. If nothing resonates, feel free to move on. If you stay, I hope you enjoy what the cards have in store for you today! ✩°。🧸𓏲⋆.🧺𖦹 ₊˚
🍄 Card 1 (The empress)
The empress embodies femininity, creativity, abundance, and nurturing. She represents the Mother Earth archetype. She symbolizes life-giving energies, fertility, and the power of nature. Your future friends may exhibit qualities associated with motherhood: nurturing, compassion, and a deep connection to life. The empress encourages you to tap into your creative expression. Your friends will be artistic, imaginative, and open to exploring various forms of self-expression together. She nurtures and cares for others, so they may be supportive, understanding, and compassionate with you. Remember, the empress embodies a harmonious blend of feminine energy and creative abundance. Your future friends may reflect these qualities, enriching your life with their nurturing presence. These friendships will be enriching, helping you to grow and thrive emotionally, creatively, and maybe even spiritually.
🍄 Card 2 (Knight of pentacles)
The knight of pentacles represents diligence, reliability, hard work, and practicality. Your friends will be dependable and steadfast. They won’t make impulsive decisions but will carefully consider their actions. Like the knight of pentacles, they’ll approach friendships with a slow and steady energy, valuing consistency and reliability. He is also very practical and grounded. Your future friends will likely approach life with a sensible and pragmatic attitude, helping you stay grounded as well. Loyalty is a key trait of this card. Your friends will be loyal and committed to your friendship, sticking by you through thick and thin. It encourages shared experiences, so you will appreciate the mutual respect and understanding between you and your friends. Friendships built on steady foundations tend to last. Your future friends, like the knight of pentacles, will contribute to a reliable and enduring social circle.
🍄 Card 3 (Nine of wands)
The nine of wands represents resilience, perseverance, and the ability to stand firm despite challenges. Your future friends will be resilient individuals who have faced their own challenges and emerged stronger. They can inspire you with their ability to persevere and stand strong in the face of adversity. They will be very protective and supportive of you. They stand by you during tough times, offering encouragement and solidarity when you need it most. Your future friends will have a persistent and tenacious spirit. They won't give up easily and will encourage you to keep going even when the going gets tough! Loyalty is a strong trait of the nine of wands. Your future friends will be loyal and reliable, always there to support you and stand by your side. These friendships will be marked by mutual support, loyalty, and a shared strength to face and overcome difficulties together.
Love, Willow
♡⸝⸝🪐⋆ In depth and reasonably priced tarot readings here ♡⸝⸝🪐⋆
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arijackz · 3 months
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PICK A CARD: What Element Do You Embody?
⍎ "The force that unites the elements to become all things is Love, also called Aphrodite; Love brings together dissimilar elements into a unity, to become a composite thing. Love is the same force that human beings find at work in themselves whenever they feel joy, love and peace. Strife, on the other hand, is the force responsible for the dissolution of the one back into its many, the four elements of which it was composed." - Empedocles
Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, these elements don't have to correspond with your birth chart.
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p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4
⌾ Pile One ⌾ (4oC rev., 10oS, High Priestess, 6oP)
Your soul’s energetic thumbprint is GODLY. 
But I’m getting ahead of myself, your element is AETHER.
I get the sense that you’ve been sort of incognito for a large chunk of your life. You felt more comfortable being an observer and watching the world unfold before you.
Not out of fear, you’re just naturally curious in a spectating sense rather than interactive. You hear what’s left unsaid, feel people’s suppressed/underlying emotions, and see what others are blind to. The high priestess is all-knowing but keeps the universal truth to herself because she knows not everyone is meant to see what she sees.
You hold a lot of unknown truths, but truths often become burdens. You carry other people’s pain because you know they can’t handle it, often thanklessly. You throw yourself in front of the bus before the other person even realizes there's a threat coming at all. 
The weight you carry on your back would crush the average person. Deny it all you want, but in the cosmic book of life, you’re a modern-day hero in a way.  
It’s like when the older sibling sacrifices themselves to protect their kid siblings from the horrors they’ve had to endure in their family environment. They know they’re the only barrier between the monsters and their loved ones, often sacrificing opportunities and peace of mind to be that protection.
It doesn't have to be this case scenario, but if the situation resonates with you, I see you. The universe sees you. Your valiance and selfless nature deserve songs and praises, never belittle your efforts. 
Okay back to aether, y’all know I love to yap. 
I am heavily getting this silent heroine presence because aether is the antithesis of fire, water, earth, and air. It’s cold because it does not have fire’s warmth, weightless because it is not heavy like earth or water, and immobile because it does not have air’s fluidity. Sounds bad, but it’s fucking AWESOME.
The aether element allows for the other element’s existence. It has no boundaries and fills every corner of life, it is Godly and omnipresent. The word αἰθήρ (aithḗr) in Homeric Greek means "pure, fresh air" or "clear sky".[3] In Greek mythology, it was thought to be the pure essence that the gods breathed, filling the space where they lived, analogous to the air breathed by mortals. 
Aether is essentially empty space that allows for life to be. The movement of our bodies takes place in these empty spaces. I.e. the hollowness of our lungs allows breath, space in the throat causes speech, the heart needs space to contract and pump blood, and so forth. Life could not exist without this empty space.
Since the aether element is subtle yet all-pervading, it is the most spiritual element and is considered a bridge between the earthly realm and the divine. 
Quintessence is also a term that is quite often used for ether as it denotes the “heavenly bodies” present in the universe such as the stars and galaxies.
(A CROW HAS A MESSAGE FOR YOU, GO OUTSIDE)
You have this quiet, subtle, but Godly presence about you just like the aether element. 
Circling back to the silent heroine archetype, to sum up my rambling, aether is out of human perception (like your silent, observant nature) but is the backbone of existence (the power in that very nature).
You’re a bit of an oxymoron. You notice everything, and that forces you to be a bit apathetic because constantly being in fight or flight isn’t good for the body. But on the other hand, you’re extremely empathetic because you understand the world’s suffering more acutely than anyone else. You’re a quiet presence and try not to interfere with other people’s lives but you’re simultaneously the very barrier that stops some people’s lives from crumbling. 
The aether element 🤝 you. TWINNEM
Sidenote: Shoutout to my Shatabhisha natives yet again! Also, if you find this element interesting and want to know more about this dominating energy in your life, I hyperlinked two websites for you that are worth reading. 
And go outside! My window is open and this single crow is SCREAMiNG at me.
Also, you’re smart enough, aim for that challenging degree. 
Okay! MUAH!
Beyond The Breath of Mere Mortals
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⌾ Pile Two ⌾ (Ace of Cups, 8oP, Page of Swords)
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^^^ You fr
RISE UP MY LIL TSUNAMIS!!!  aka my WATER elements
You’ve definitely been called overly emotional as an insult. Well fuck that person, they wish they had your appeal.
Do you know how crazy you drive people? I imagine you as the person in a movie who the depressed main character meets once at a party, ditches the crowd, goes on an adventure with, and as the sun rises, they look over at you and realize life is worth living. 
Even if you don’t identify as female, you have a strong effeminate allure. Not in a traditional “pink” sense, but in a receptive manner. You stand there and look pretty while the world crawls to you. Adventures seem to rush toward you. 
Your energy colors life; water gives the Earth foliage and growth. Without water, everything in existence is dry, stiff, and lacks the nourishment to evolve.
People feel alive around you, imagine those moss patches that start dry and grey but once they touch water, they get bright green and abundant. 
You color those dry patches in people’s lives. However, many people aren’t used to this intense water dominance. It unbalances them and feels irrational.
Society grooms people to suppress their emotions, so those who embrace their feelings and work to understand them appear juvenile and possibly even threatening. 
The word sensitive or emotional is almost a slur in today's society 😭
But your sensitivity is your power and serves you a great deal of intelligence. Especially with people! This is a very fiery, intense energy. Y’all are my Scorpio/8th house knockouts (check your sidereal chart as well).  
You have a very penetrative presence, you are felt before you are seen, but you will never go unnoticed. You’re a bit obsessive, you want to know everything about everyone.
Favorite color? Childhood horrors? Most shame-ridden secret? Their first celebrity crush? That embarrassing moment in middle school they’d rather die than bring up? The opinion that would get them jumped on twitter.com?
And you’re good at getting these answers out of people. Two minutes with you and people start word-vomiting their entire consciousness onto you. That magnetizes people and in turn, makes them obsessed with you. 
Your energy is very alluring, in the same way, the gentle sway of the ocean lures people in. They are slightly in fear of the emotional hold you have over them. The ocean might soothe or drown them. In the same way, the ocean seduces, your aura has an unpredictable grasp on people. 
I feel like this strong emotional energy took a while to tame, it used to unbalance you. Life had major emotional ups and downs with long days of you feeling like you’re being submerged under water. But just like any skill, you honed it and achieved mental clarity, to wield your emotions to your benefit. 
The water element sends you through hell for you to achieve liberation. Once you fight your biggest demon (yourself and all the torment the mind can conjure), you come out the other side knowing that the worst isn’t strong enough to take you down and nothing will. 
The waves that once drowned you are turning into a weaponized tsunami you command. You have the power to nourish and destroy. 
If you’re not quite there, you’re well on your way. Keep doing what you’re doing, sexy. 
Resist Me If You Can
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⌾ Pile Three ⌾ (2oP, 3oC, 8oP)
Welcome my manifesters! We’re talking ‘bout the EARTH element baby!
This is the earthiest earther I know, and Pile 3 get down! Pile 3 dont play!
You work so hard, it’s borderline masochistic 😭
It doesn’t have to be work in a traditional- go to your job and get noticed by the boss- sense, this extends to every corner of life. You’re objective-oriented and do not stray from the mark until the box is checked. 
This can be as simple as having a goal to learn how to whistle by next Sunday. You’ve already marked time out of the week for ten minutes a day to practice, found YouTube instructors, bought chapstick so your lips don’t dry out, and it’s all you can think about until you get that high of accomplishing something.  
Earth is the manifesting element because it's where our thoughts accumulate enough energy to materialize. It's quite a powerful position to be in. One day it's just a dream, and by the next it's reality. 
Well, that's an exaggeration, the earth element is quite slooowwww due to its weight.
It’s the heaviest element because it’s the most long-lasting. Water evaporates, air swiftly changes, and fire burns; only Earth will remain. Anything worthwhile takes time, Rome wasn’t built in a day.
I think you understand this, but you don’t always have the patience for your desires to materialize. If you feel like you aren’t actively making progress on your goal, you tend to juggle multiple projects just to get that rush of achievement we were talking about earlier. 
I’m making an addiction reference because it applies here. This incessant need to reach every goal as soon as you think you should is causing you to over-extend yourself and the stress on the body is throwing you into disharmony. 
Not everyone gets their license at 16. Not everyone moves out of their family’s home at 18. Not everyone has a job straight out of college. Not everyone has their life all figured out…ever. 
Balance is needed. You’re too hyper-focused on deadlines and seeing results, that you’re putting your overall wellbeing on the line. YOU are your most prized possession and need to care for yourself like you’re the shiniest medal on your mantel. 
The “Gullible” card came out, don’t worry, you’re not naive in a trusting way (not that you should be blamed for putting your trust in people anyway). I see it as your goals aren’t rooted in your true self enough and are too influenced by others. 
(Extreme example): You see someone (who has probably been practicing their whole life) play the violin really well at a young age. Now, you’ve made a goal to be as good as them in just a few years; every time you feel like you’re lagging on that deadline, you start berating yourself and feel inferior because you haven’t reached this unrealistic standard you’ve set.
Is this goal a good use of your finite energy? Is this objective authentic to you? Or is this just something that will give you a temporary ego stroke?
I think life is forcing out into a hanged man moment currently. Your perspective needs to switch inward so you can ground all of this powerful energy into something that will actually satisfy you, not just give you a quick high for a moment and then redirect you to your next conquest. 
You want something that will give you pride and fulfillment at your core and the universe wants to give that to you, but you have to know what will make you happy. What gives you inner harmony?
And I don’t mean what you see makes others “happy”. Not a mansion, fame, the newest fashion trends, expensive skin care, etc. I mean the things that bring you joy beyond the physical. 
Think about what made your younger self jump out of bed every morning to experience. What did your soul shine for, before the world shamed it out of you?
You don’t have to know now, but you must be willing to pause and raise the importance of your health and happiness to the same height as your material/skill gains. I know those things make you feel good, but it's temporary, and if you want to achieve lasting happiness you need to achieve harmony with all aspects of your life. Right now, your inner health needs a leg up to balance the scale.
The earth gets stiff and stops evolving without water. Don’t allow yourself to dry up. Give yourself space to go on an inner journey and rest. The universe understands perfection takes time. The planets took billions of years to form, a tree takes decades to reach maturity, and only humans have deluded themselves into thinking results are instantaneous. 
A week of rest is still progress!
P.S The attractive card FLEW out. Your “do or die” energy, though unhealthy at times, is sexy as fuck and you have this magician-type- nothing is impossible for me- allure to you. Green, red, and black make people want to sneak another peak at you. 
"Wait Instead of Push, Root Instead of Reach"
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⌾ Pile Four ⌾ (The devil, 10oS, Ace of pentacles, 7oP)
MUY CALIENTE INDEED!!
They don’t call you a hot lil mama for nothin!
You embody the FIRE element. Although, you are quite earthy. This is my most mixed-element pile. Read pile three for sure.
You’re a very proactive person. You have earth’s manifesting qualities and fire’s initiative. You seize opportunities and start goals without hesitation. Very very attractive.
This reading doesn’t have to correlate with your birth chart, but all love to my Sagittarius and Aries folk. Of course, sending a special kiss to the Leos.
You have the same obsessive, hyper-focused tendencies as pile three but I feel like instead of a brief moment of accomplishment, you’re craving glory and the freedom to shine as brightly as you desire. 
In your formative years, you’ve had to dim your light for survival and to escape ridicule. You’ve had to fit into a mold that is much smaller than your true form, stifling your potential. This energy feels very suffocating. Picture a boiling fire covered with a lid. It’s like a false skin has trapped you and cut off your oxygen.
But don’t worry, ever heard of cleansing by fire? The fire element is about purity and rebirth. It burns impurities to get matter back to its rawest, unadulterated form. You will burn that false skin off, to reveal a phoenix underneath, it's all a part of your evolution. 
Fire ignites instantaneously but can burn out just as quickly. You suffer from exhaustion a lot of the time. This is where the earth energy meets the fire. You have a longer refractory period than usual fire personalities because of the heaviness of the earth element. 
You’re like an engine sitting outside in the winter. Give it twenty minutes to warm up and get its groove but once it does, OOHHH BOOYYY, WE’RE ROLLIN’!
You have earth’s slowness and need for perfection, so you take longer to complete tasks and may even be a late bloomer.
I feel like you crave the spotlight, not necessarily fame, but recognition on some scale. You have always subconsciously known that your flame was being smothered and that you had not seen that full extent of you.  Your subconscious brought this to your attention with desires to be seen.
Some of you want to be recognized for your talents, beloved for your beauty, admired for your wit, favored for your charm, hell all of the above!
And you deserve it! You desire these things because your soul is trying to tell you something. You are meant to be seen.
I sense a lot of fear in this pile. Fire energy is very headstrong and likes to race to the finish line (the hare). Earth energy is contemplative and likes to play the long game (the tortoise). The two conflicting energies can create some paralyzing doubt in your psyche. One side thinks the other is irrational.
Do I stay or do I go? Can I even trust myself to make a decision I might regret?
Yes, you can! You have to, there is one thing that fire and earth can agree on, it's their shared annoyance with stagnation. Go for it babe, you miss all the shots you don’t make, all choices lead forward (which is where you need to go).
I’m telling you, anything you want you will get, just don’t be afraid to burn that false skin off. 
Find a median for the two energies. Dream big and have the self-assurance to go for it, but methodically plan out all your adventures so that earthy need for a stable foundation is satisfied. 
A vision board with ideas of ways to achieve these dreams will help pull your thoughts into the physical and be a great step to giving you the confidence to move forward.
Because I promise you, once you get going, there will be no stopping you.
Note: I think “You’re afraid of being seen” videos on YouTube will be great for rewiring your fear-based thinking. Confidence affirmations are a great addition to your day too. Oh, and please read pile three, there are some messages in there for you. 
"Have a Love Affair With The Sun"
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If you enjoyed this reading feel free to check out my masterlist and poke around. I feel a lot of these pacs are connected, so go find yourself in other readings!
I don't bite I swear, book a reading with me if you feel inclined <3
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