#awakening process
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0illuminated1 · 3 days ago
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The Difference Between True and False Enlightenment - Genuine Awakening/Illusion of Transformation
In this video, we explore the crucial distinction between true enlightenment and false enlightenment. True awakening is marked by humility, clarity, and a deep acceptance of reality, whereas false enlightenment often leads to self-deception, arrogance, and detachment from real suffering. Discover the signs of genuine spiritual growth and how to avoid the pitfalls of false awakening. Whether you are on a path of personal growth or just beginning to question your beliefs, understanding the difference between true and false enlightenment can help you navigate your journey with authenticity and wisdom.
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futurefatum · 7 months ago
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Destruction and Creation Will Happen in the Same Moment (Tone: 540)
Chaos leads to creation! As global shifts unravel, a new consciousness emerges. Are you ready for the journey ahead? 🌍✨ #SpiritualAwakening #UnityConsciousness #FuturePredictions
Posted September 13th, 2024 by @annetucker Compelling Summary: In this intense message, Anne Tucker channels the Angelic realm, focusing on upcoming global and spiritual shifts. The video delves into humanity’s transition from a state of separation to a unified consciousness, where creation and destruction occur simultaneously. Not everyone will embrace these changes at first, but those who do…
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adviceformefromme · 2 months ago
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Get out of survival mode and into the God frequency of creative energy. When you’re thinking about the money you don’t have, the new shoes you can’t afford, the relationship that’s not working out - you are operating in the lower frequencies, and this is how you swirl and stay stuck in the gutter. When one problem is resolved you find something else to worry about. You are mentally positioning yourself in survival, no different to the animals living in the wild. But you have a choice. You can choose better. You can decide to frame your ‘problems’ as opportunities, you get to lean into creative energy. The simple act of drawing or painting takes you out of survival mode. God is a creator, so when you create, you are in your God frequency. When you write freely, you are in your creative energy, when you produce something out of nothing from your mind you are moving yourself out of survival. So no matter how difficult life is right now, keep creating in whatever way that looks like for you, because the closer you are to God the closer you are to the highest frequency that you can access on this plane. 
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steviewashere · 1 year ago
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Kiss and Tell
(Can be found on ao3)
Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing
Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3
-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.
It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.
The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.
He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.
And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.
It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.
But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.
And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.
Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.
Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).
He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.
Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.
Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.
But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.
Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.
Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.
So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.
He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.
Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.
But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.
"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—
Has to squint harder.
So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.
And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—
"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.
Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.
And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.
Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.
So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.
And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.
No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.
Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.
"Do that again," Steve whispers.
Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.
That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.
So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.
But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.
Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.
And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"
He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.
Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.
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❤️
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a-path-by-the-moon · 22 days ago
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wandoffire · 1 year ago
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dizzybevvie · 10 months ago
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You're the sunflower/I think your love would be too much
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basket-of-potatoes · 3 months ago
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One more WIP :)
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limielle · 2 years ago
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the piece i did for futures reforged (a zine tht was celebrating 10 years of fe:a) and i had the honor of drawing tharja and henry :)
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dogpawsswapgod · 3 months ago
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my new thing is writing very erotic CaitVi scenes where nothing sexual is happening it all. it's surprisingly easy, esp if one or both of them are mildly or severely injured.
like, check this out
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see? easy.
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hiveswap · 3 months ago
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I love the person on ao3 who bookmarked my fic, copy pasted a few paragraphs in the description, wrote "got high." And then copy pasted another few paragraphs
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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 2 months ago
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so. I just got to Maruki’s attempted persuasion of Ren before the deadline and. hey what the fuck. what. what.
Akechi is the sole bargaining chip? Akechi’s life and their continued connection is what Ren wished for?
#that was. so much.#ow???#I have so much to process. but the furious way ren flung that calling card. what what what#my brain is spinning. THAT was ren’s greatest regret and biggest wish?#for akechi to be alive and to start over with him???#I. How devastating must that realization have been for akechi. when did he figure it out? it must have been close to the beginning#the guy who wanted to be loved and needed so badly and now someone does. and he has to reject it because unfortunately#this genuine sentiment has been co-opted by a therapist with a god complex into another cage for him#also. there’s the option to say you’ll accept the reality. you can accept it? actually accept it?! to save akechi. because ren is that upse#what the fuck. what the fuckkgfl#akechi grew so much as a character. seeing his personas fuse and his third awakening made me really happy honestly#but god. he awakens right before he dies??? because he chooses death over letting himself be chained again?? come on atlus that’s just MEAN#and ren just has to. deal with that. lead the team tomorrow. no time for it to even sink in. he didn’t know!!!#how much sleep do you want to bet ren got that night? 👍 haha… ha…#ugh. ow.#the universe really said ‘let’s doom these two sad sobs for no fucking reason. just because’#storyrambles#story plays persona 5#p5r#oh. oh my god. the glove. of course. he wanted their rematch but what that actually meant was#‘please survive. please be alive’#again I reiterate: what the FUCK#edit because I remembered from their rank 10: ‘your wishes became one’#now I know the context is different. but did they not both voice their regrets? did they not both wish to meet again through the glove#and its associated promise? ‘If only we’d met sooner’? ‘I want to keep our promise’???#god. it was mutual wasn’t it? their biggest mutual regret and wish is each other.
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yuesya · 10 months ago
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If Shiki wasn't related to Nanami and didn't become close with Gojo and the gang, how would things have gone?
It mostly depends on whether or not she would've been discovered by sorcerers in the jujutsu world.
Assuming that both of her parents came from purely civilian backgrounds, it's very likely that Shiki would've had a peaceful childhood and had absolutely nothing to do with JJK events at all.
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ninjagirlstar5 · 4 months ago
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can I request… chodarking/chocolate orange….
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Damn, Chosen, how come you get TWO partners? (reference)(light-hearted)
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kal-fragilelikeglass · 1 year ago
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anyone wanna talk about izzy in drag for (what i assume is) lucius and black pete's wedding? because i'm feeling such a type of way and it's all positive
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enasalenaste · 25 days ago
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warden-commander julian amell pictured approximately 30 seconds before quitting his job
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