#but as we know the law doesn’t apply to them

[anamericangirl]

"Abortion as a concept is different than murder as it is regarded in the law. To say “God didn’t HAVE to address it” is ridiculous because abortion was incredibly common place..."

Abortion as a concept is not different than murder as it's regarded in the Bible, and that's what we're discussing here. And you haven't given any real explanation about why you think it's so different. You're the one claiming God didn't address it. I'm claiming he did address it by making it clear he values the unborn as people and explicitly commands us not to murder. That addresses abortion. You are saying "no he has to make a special announcement about abortion or I'm going to assume this specific kind of murder isn't included in that law" and that is a problem with the way you are reading the bible.

You need to do a better job at explaining why abortion isn't included in that rule. Do unto others as you would have them to do to you does apply to kidnapping, but do unto others as you would have them do unto you isn't a law established by God.

God saw some acts towards others as bad enough to need severe consequences on earth. And actions that directly cause harm to other people fall into this category. So yes kidnapping is included in the concept of treating others how you want to be treated and it's a severe enough violation of God's code of conduct that it needed a punishment. Just like murder, which is what abortion is. To claim God's law about not murdering people doesn't apply to abortion you have to make a solid argument that that would show God doesn't consider unborn babies people and you haven't done that. You've tried but have failed so in making a convincing argument because most of your points have a foundation in complete misunderstanding of biblical texts.

God doesn’t say “thow shall not drown your kids or shoot them in the head”, but a living breathing independent child is established as a person, and so to kill them would be murder.

Show me in the bible where God says a two year old is a living, breathing independent child. You believe that to be true, but show me where it states it in the bible.

Because it kind of seems like you're using your own beliefs about personhood to determine what the Bible is saying and not what the Bible itself says.

A fetus is not a person independent of its mother. If the mother dies, the fetus dies. Murder is applied to individual people, not parasites, cancer cells, sperm cells, eggs, or fetuses. A murder is the unlawful killing of a person, fetuses have not even begun to be people."

Ahhhh and now we see what your claims are really founded in. You made a claim about what the Bible says about abortion and the unborn but you are not paying attention to what the bible says about the unborn because you have decided, not based on the bible, that the unborn aren't people. You have gone into the discussion with that belief already and because you didn't see the Bible say "you're wrong the unborn are people" you are just holding onto that scientifically illiterate idea even though the bible clearly personifies the unborn more than once.

Show me where the Bible says the law against murdering people only applies to "individual" people because I think you made that part up.

I agree murder doesn't apply to beings that aren't people but fetuses are people. They are acknowledged as such in the bible and we know that from a scientific standpoint so really, what's going on here is you don't need the Bible to tell you abortion is bad, you need to understand the biology of fetal development so that you can understand the unborn are living people from the moment of conception. Then you would understand abortion, which is the intentional killing of that person, is murder and would further understand that when God commanded us not to commit murder he was even talking about pre-born babies.

When exactly, do you think fetuses begin to be people and thus no longer ok to murder?

"God also knew the sons of Egypt before they were formed in the womb. God knows every single soul before they are even conceived, this doesn’t speak anything to whether or not a fetus is a person. God is simply saying he knows all things and all people before people were even a thing. God knew every stillborn baby and every person who was never born...."

You....you kinda missed the point here. Yes, this is an example of god knowing all things and knowing all people before they come into existence but if we put on our thinking caps here, what are the implications of this verse? Why is God using the verbiage here that he is using? Why did he say "before I formed you in the womb, I knew you"? He didn't use that terminology by accident. It was very intentional. God is saying he knew that person before they even existed but what did he choose to use as the beginning point of that person's existence to make that statement? The formation in the womb. He doesn't say, "before you born, I knew you" or "before you became a person, I knew you" he says "before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." He is referring to the being that was in the womb as the person he is speaking to at that moment. God is conflating this person and the fetus he was in the womb as one and the same and to ignore that and act like it's irrelevant and really means nothing is a flaw with you and your reading of scripture.

"Again, what is being said? This passage is surely about God’s power, but it doesn’t say anything that is at all specific or exclusive to the fetus. The Christian belief is that God knows all, knows us, knows who and what we are."

Again, I refer you to the my response in the paragraph above. I am not using these to say God says fetuses are in the Bible, but these are clear cases of personifying them. Speaking of children in the womb in the same way he speaks of people outside the womb. That's not an irrelevant trend and again, ignoring it doesn't make it irrelevant. Even though this is not explicitly stating "fetuses are people" it does more to show that God sees them as people than it does to show he doesn't.

"When it describes movement in the womb of Elizabeth and second because this is a reference to people who are not ordinary, not usual, not as the rest of us. This is a poetic illustration of the link between Jesus and John, a scriptural ballad telling of what is of the eternal, the humanizing of salvation. It’s not a guide to female reproduction."

Can you back up that speculation in any way whatsoever as to show that's actually what the scripture was doing and not a literal interpretation as implied by the context?

Also, no one is claiming it's a guide to female reproduction. The bible is not a guide to female reproduction, it is the story of who God is. What this is though, is an illustration of the humanity of the child in the womb and that God views them as people, which is what we are discussing. To brush it off as "not a guide to female reproduction" is you strawmanning the reason it was brought up.

"God makes the distinction between people, completed humans, and fetus’ when he says that the punishment for causing a woman to miscarry is a fine. That’s also something you blatantly misrepresented. “Further harm” was in reference to the woman, the mother who is a person. An eye for an eye, a life for a life, if the mother suffers harm, if the woman is to miscarry the punishment is a fine...."

I blatantly misrepresenting nothing. That's what the text says. You say further harm was in reference to the woman but that's how you interpreted the text, that's not what it says.

The verse says if any harm follows, it doesn't specify who that harm must happen to so you saying it's just in reference to the woman isn't true. It's logical to assume that it's reference harm to the woman and her child.

Also, again, the bible says if the woman gives birth prematurely and you are saying it says if you cause a woman to miscarry it's just a fine. But miscarrying and premature birth are not the same. That is blatant misrepresentation.

You keep using the word miscarry and that is not the word used here so be careful of accusing me of twisting it around while you yourself are guilty of doing exactly that at this very moment.

You are just assuming it's all in reference to the woman and I understand that's what you want it to be in reference to but your assumptions are unsupported by the text.

But also, why do you keep using Jewish religious texts when talking about the Christian Bible? The christian bible is translated differently than those texts so it is a severe logically fallacy for you to make a claim about what you think it makes sense for Christians to believe based on what you think the Bible says and then use Jewish religious texts, that differ from the Christian bible and aren't the texts christians adhere to, in attempts to back that claim up. I'm not arguing Jewish texts with you here. I was under the impression we were discussing the christian bible.

I'm not going to argue this anymore because really we could go back and forth forever and we're really just going in circles with the same arguments but I will respond to the addition you added to this reblog.

While I think all of that information interesting I find it completely irrelevant to the topic at hand which is does the bible condemn abortion, meaning, to my understanding, does God condemn abortion?

So what the people of the time believed or all the different ideas of the beginning of life don't really matter in answer to that question.

Your idea that the bible doesn't condemn abortion only works if you will not acknowlodge the reality that abortion is murder and that the bible doesn't need to make that specification for it to be true. God clearly spoke of children in the womb in the same way he spoke about people outside the womb and obviously considers that the point when a whole, unique human being comes into existence and I strongly reject your attempts at refuting that and found them all utterly unconvincing.

The bible does condemn abortion because it condemns murder and those are the same thing whether you admit it or not. Abortion is the intentional, unjustified killing of one human being by another. The bible never said murder only applied to human beings at a certain point of independence. That's an extra qualifier you made up.

So you can reject the claim that abortion is murder and you can say the bible doesn't say abortion is wrong because you're right, it doesn't specifically address abortion so on a semantic level, you are right, but just on a semantic level. If you understand the Bible as a whole book, and you understand the verbiage used by God and the reasons he used the words he did, and you understand the teachings of God and you acknowledge that God clearly values the lives of the unborn then it is clearly understood that abortion is an act condemned by God. You failed to debunk the idea that God doesn't see the unborn as people and doesn't consider killing them to be murder.

The only way you can win the debate is by keeping it strictly on a semantic level, which explains why you are working hard to keep it on that level.

So you can reject the fact that abortion is seen as murder by God, but to claim there is no biblical basis for that belief is absurd.

most frustrating thing I’ve learned recently as i continue to read the bible

yeah so the bible literally never, at any point condemns abortion. Jesus never condemned abortion. In fact :) the bible actually provides instructions on how to properly have one. seriously. Look into it. Christianity takes its ethical base from Judaism, and Judaism says that you're not a person with a soul until you draw your first breath.

so :)

hahaha :) there’s literally no reason :) why Christians want to deny women and afab people healthcare :) besides the obvious, to control our bodies.

like :) there’s literally no reason :))

guys 🙏 absolutely NO scripture. :) condemning abortion even once. :)))))))

i’m about to lose my fucking MIND.

[prisonhannibal]

The Shaman and the Thief is a song by norwegian artist Moddi from his concept album Unsongs, where he translated and covered twelve songs that have been banned, censored or silenced for political reasons.

The song is about colonialism in sápmi, and is an adaptation of an old sámi song called Suola ja Noaidi. The song was written down in the early 1800s. The text is dialogue between a christian priest (the thief) and a sámi shaman, a noaidi, about their conflict over land and religion. Moddi’s adaptation of this song features legendary sámi artist Mari Boine as the shaman, while Moddi plays the thief.

In the song, the thief arrogantly claims to know and own the land just as much as the sámi people, despite having no respect for local beliefs and completely misunderstanding the relationship the sámi people have to nature and the land, while the shaman argues that the thief doesn’t know what it means to be of this land, saying “you have to learn how to read marks on the trees, for the laws that you know, they don’t apply here.” The thief uses god and the christian religion as arguments, that he has god on his side, that the land was created by god and dismisses the shaman by saying that the shaman isn’t god and didn’t create it, and therefore has no right to own it. But the shaman never claims to own the land, only to belong to it, while the thief has come to their home and started calling it his.

What you hear in the background of the last 3 minutes of the song is joik, a traditional form of singing or chanting, and a very important form of expression and art. It’s mostly sounds and not words, meant to evoke the thing you’re joiking through the sounds and rhythm and tempo. You aren’t joiking about someone, you’re joiking them. I find it beautiful. It was labeled as devil worship and coming from satan when they forced christianity onto us.

What REALLY gives me goosebumps in this song, is the combination of the joik in the background and the lyrics I shared above. They are some of the last words in the song, but the joik keeps going for over a minute after the thief said she was chanting in vain. After the joik fades out, you can faintly hear what sounds like a few beats on a drum, I believe it might be representing a noaidi drum, which was used in rituals in our old religion.

Sámi shamanism is mostly lost from our people now, our languages are all endangered, some with fewer than ten speakers left. They took our children and sent them to boarding schools, took our bodies for racial science, labeled our music and traditions as satanic, banned our languages and religion, and they took the land. But we are still here, and we are rebuilding and trying to take back what was damaged. Joik is still here. The song really does linger here. It always will, for as long as we are here.

That’s my rambling for today about music and sámi history. Joik is a very beautiful kind of music I would highly recommend checking it out

[lovelylunas-world]

“Israel is acting according to international law”

was this after or before they dropped phosphorus on Gaza?🤨

Or turned off all the water and stopped food from going in?

“The idf is the most moral army in the world and isn’t trying to kill people”

so bombing civilians,stealing their belongings and stealing a child is moral?

[4dbeingguide]

11 tips from a master manifestor.

y’all have been loving my first post and it’s really encouraged me to come back. this time i have 11 tips for you! i would’ve really appreciated a post like this when i was a beginner so i’ve decided to make it for those who may also be starting with their journey. actually it doesn’t matter where you are on this road, this is supposed to help everybody, including master manifestors (yes, sometimes doubts cross our minds, we just know how to deal with them)!

there is a lot of repetition as there are some concepts i want to emphasize on. excuse any grammar errors. let’s get straight to it!

stop giving a fuck about the 3D. that is absolute (as in, don’t check it, don’t wait for anything from it, don’t let it get to you). just stop. i have a post over here that will really help you in doing so (and no, it isn’t me cursing at you while ordering you to stop. it’s me having a discussion with you and listening to your doubts while refuting them and i also back it up with scientific sources).

acknowledge that you already are a master manifestor. you’re already where you need to be. don’t let the illusion that is the 3D tell you otherwise!

if you see a piece of manifestation advice that rubs you the wrong way then simply act as if it’s false and doesn’t apply to your reality. you make the rules.

speaking of rules, make yourself some manifesting rules that dictate that manifesting is effortless and instant for you. don’t settle for less.

keep a success story list (and yes, you can put stuff that you’ve assumed that hasn’t appeared in the 3D since the 4D is the only reality) so that you can use it to reaffirm your belief in the law if you ever doubt it.

never seek approval from the 3D for ANYTHING. it is an ILLUSION. your 4D/mind/assumptions are the OBJECTIVE reality. this also applies to the state of waiting and wanting. why do you want to wait for the approval of an illusion? and what are you wanting when it’s already here?

the 3D is not your enemy and it is impossible for the 3D to reject your manifestation. the bitch is inanimate lmao. have you ever walked in front of a mirror and had it tell you “i’m not gonna reflect right now”? i’m sure the answer is no. the 3D works the same way. it EXISTS to reflect our assumptions. that’s its entire purpose. it is nothing but an illusory perception of our 4D. it actually obeys you down to a T. i was gonna say it’s your pet but pets are actually alive and autonomous, the 3D isn’t. the 3D just an inanimate illusion. your business is in the 4D. that’s where you live.

you don’t need a technique. to manifest, all you have to do is assume you have it or enter the state of having it. techniques simply exist to help you do so (that’s why we affirm/visualize/etc. that we have it) but you can do it directly. that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them. do what feels most natural to you. do what is the most efficient when it comes to making you fulfilled (not what gives it to you fastest in the 3D. remember, it’s an illusion).

you shouldn’t care if the 3D will give it to you or not. the 3D is an illusion, remember? a simple way to get yourself to put your eyes on the 4D is saying something to the effect of “this 3D/physical world isn’t real/is an illusion, the 4D/mind is the only true reality, i live in the 4D and thus all my affairs are there and not in the 3D and this is what the 4D is saying: (insert manifestation)”. seriously, all your affairs are in the 4D. you’re 4 dimensional.

when doubts persist, reading rants and banging pots and pans might help sometimes but sometimes you just have to sit down with yourself and have an internal dialogue. you’re human (probably 🤔 just in case you’re manifesting otherwise as you read this, and yes it IS possible). hear what your doubts have to say in full (don’t buy it though) and debunk them calmly and civilly.

limits don’t exist. imagination is the only reality. if you can imagine it then it can happen unless you say it can’t.

if you liked this post, make sure to check out my post here!!! in it i elaborate on how to deal with doubts. have an amazing day 🫶

[charmedreincarnation]

Hi Maya I was one of your first anons back in March and I manifested my dream life. i just wanted to share some things that helped me, and hope we can all pass some knowledge so we all get our desires life. I did, you did, and everyone reading this can and will so let’s all try to help out by sharing a little of our journey. I’ll never create a blog because tumblr is a mess, so I’ll just share them here bc I trust you as a creator and I hope you agree with what I’m saying. Even if you don’t these are my assumptions and my truth

il get into my methods in one second but users of tumblr there are only 4 THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE LAW (Inspired heavily by you bc I used your blog religiously) I will say you’re kind of too nice and I wish I had someone to yell at me like this, and tell me to stop being a victim!!! So if it sounds aggressive it’s because it is in the best loving way possible.OKAY SO.

★you need to understand that you want to fulfill yourself in imagination because you don’t care about the desires only how you feel about it. Bare with me it sounds stupid I know. But I don’t care about men or how they feel about me. I just want to feel worshiped and love, and I could fulfill that in my imagination. I don’t care about money??? It’s fucking paper !!! I just want to feel secure and financially free and want the feeling of buying my favorite clothes without looking at the tag. I GOT THE SAME FEELING FROM PINTREST EVEN WHEN I WAS POOR GODDAMNIT. I didn’t care about getting all As in school when I’ve always believed school is not a representation of intelligence. I wanted to feel recognized adored and respected which I had to feel for myself in my mind before it projected. I don’t care about looking skinny, I just wanted to feel snatched, I wanted to be envied, and feel pretty. And in my mind everyone wanted to be me even when I was ugly and fat. BUT I DIDNT FEEL FAT. Even with no change in the 3D I had my desires. This applies to all your desires, and you really need to understand that.

★you can affirm,visualize, understand states, understand non dualism, use the Bible or Torah m, wall twerk and say “I AM THAT BITXH,” use sats YADADAA . No one cares it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to feel anything or, even believe in wth you’re doing. As long as you think that having it in imagination means it’s yours that’s all that matter. I’ve read so many teachers, Neville, Abraham, Abdullah, Edward art, paid coaches, and they all do different things but say the same thing. FAITH IS KEY. That’s all that matters. Don’t let anyone you otherwise or tell you what you have to do. All teachers were once students, all success stories were once struggled failures, all masters were once lost okay. You are god so have some faith in yourself.

★YOU ARE GOD. You know what a god is, you know how a god works, you know god can do anything with a snap of a finger, kill anyone with a thought, look anyway it wants, have anything everything and create whatever. You are an omnipotent loving creator so create and give yourself everything.

★you can’t over consume, you can think from lack of whatever, and doubt can’t hinder you unless you think it does. Having a desire does not mean you’re lacking or else having the wanting for it would mean that too no? When creators say that I want to slam my head against the wall. Even now I have all my desires and I still think about them constantly. Thinking of new clothes to buy with MY WEALTH, I think of new food to eat that won’t even affect my SNATCHED BODY, i find new places to try and explore bc MY SOCIAL CIRCLE IS HUGE AND IM SO LOVED, I think of new makeup up to try to enhance my GORGEOUS PRINCESS FACE. I think of it in the same way from when I didn’t have my desired (I always had them in imagination but you know what I mean.) so there is no thinking from lack, or else you’re always lacking it lmfao the fuck. Anyways I doubted my abilities up until I manifested my dream life. I was okay with it in imagination and whether it reflected or not it was my escape I was content with. DID YOU SEE THAT. I had doubts up until the very end, and it doesn’t mean shit unless you think it does. Just affirm having doubts and obsessions only speed up your results. That’s really all it is.

Now to my story if anyone cares. I won’t make a blog for reason number 2 and 3 listed above. That’s all you need but if you want more info for curiosity go for it. I know I was curious and that didn’t stop me from getting my dream life. Anyways I have the same story as about everyone else here. My life sucked, I found the law, and it worked! HOORAY!!! But how did I do it???? Easy peasy, in a couple of steps.

☞ I tattooed my four rules above in my mind. When fear and doubt emerged I sunk that shit like the titanic and went with my laws that I created. It’s literally called the law of assumption like come on, stop fighting with yourself when you assume and create reality.

☞I ignored anything that I didn’t agree with. Sometimes I’d get so mad and be like WHAT NO WHY WOULD THAT BLOGGER OR COACH OR ANON or whoever say that?? But am I dumb ??? each of us have our own reality our own bubbles. The fact that it works for them and not for me started to only motivate me more. It doesn’t work bc I assume sooo… sooo why not just assume the opposite and focus on my rules like they did. The law is always in effect and working. Either it’s in your favor or it’s not. It’s up to you

☞I used affirmations bc repetition is the only thing that works for my logical brain. Anything can change with repetition. It’s basic science. So in the morning and night time I would affirm. ONCE. Repetition meant for me doing it everyday and not wanting. The rest of my day was lived in my imaginations. And the affirmation was to remind me in my vulnerable state that I already have my desires. That’s why my affirmation was “I have my desires no matter what, and everything I do brings them to me faster than the speed of light” it was kind of funny and made me chuckle but I accepted it as facts. Look guys…

☞I didn’t repress myself. If I cried or yelled or told myself “FUCK YOU” it wasn’t me tf. It was the devil or something. Be like those Christian fuckers who when their child comes out as gay…it’s the devil within them or whatever. I would talk to myself, yell when doubt emerged and when my thoughts weren’t the ones I wanted. It wasn’t fucking me so get the fuck out I have my desires so who tf are you ??? It will feel weird but you’ll get used to it trust me. If you’re uncomfortable it’s working. Getting rid of bad habits and your comfort in dwelling in bad thoughts is uncomfortable but it’s worth it.

I manifested my dream life back in March. I LITERALLY WOKE WITH MY DREAM LIFE. A complete 180. I won’t talk about my past life bc I completely revised it and I’m the only one who remembers so for the most part it feels like a long nightmare that has past. I’ll just talk about what I changed instead because that’s the stuff we all want to hear. Anyways I’ll just post some of my list here.

♥ my life feels like the song rich kids by freak ocean

♥I’m a pretty spoiled princess who gets everything I want but I’m still kind

♥I revised my entire family from looks to personality to zodiac to religion and etc. i rewrote my story which included my family

♥I have natural admired intelligent

♥my family has a net worth of 500 million dollars, and my entire family stems from old money. (Think aristocrats not slave or colonization money)

♥I can play many instruments and speak many languages

♥ I am 5’2, 100 pounds, I have natural stunning vixen beauty, and the most desires body in the world. I’m the beauty standard and people either want to be me or date me. I am naturally skinny and have no worries about my weight, I have clear skin that only gets clearer with my skincare routine, and I have my desired personality where I’m kind but also don’t put up with any shit from anyone because I know I’m that bitch. I also have great style and embody a princess !

♥my life is a combination of my favorite watpadd stories, Gilmore girls, gossip girl, and mean girls.

♥ too many people pursue me I have too many options

♥I have a perfect school life, social life, family life, friend life, and people always wonder what I did to be “so lucky it’s unfair”

♥my family has multiple mansions in America, monoco,Australia, france, and China.

♥I’m a daddies and mommies money girl

♥I put myself first (I HAD SUFFERED TOO LONG I NEEDED A SOFT LIFE)

♥everyone’s purpose it to make my life easier and make me happier

♥I’m spoiled and privileged in every aspect of my life

♥I’m a master shifter, and manifester

♥I revised my age to 14. I was 18 and graduating but I wanted to redo high school how I had envisioned it all my life

♥I have a “cool mom” people are always jealous how lucky I am

♥I have my main estate in Hollywood hills with my family that’s in a gated, gorgeous, gate kept neighborhood. It is 30,000 sq feet with my dreams decor, dream cars, dream pets, dream house help, dream room with all my stuff saved on Pinterest including decor, furniture, clothes, shoes, makeup and skincare.

♥everything good in my life I have manifested and it’s too much to list. THERES NOT REASON FEAR OR WAIT. Do what you want and assume it still works and it will.

You honestly said it better than I could have. Literally every single one of these points are so valid :)!! I’m glad you think I inspired you love but all I did was allow you recognize your own godly abilities. I’m very proud of you, and have fun girl 🥹❤️

Also. “All teachers were once students, all success stories were once struggled failures, all masters were once lost okay. You are god so have some faith in yourself.” This one million times !!!!! Invest your faith into yourself more than anyone else and you’ll see how fast your reality conforms. I also adore your point about the state of lacking bc I never believed in that. If wanting your desires insinuates it’s not yours, we would have no thoughts since that’s where it all originates from. In fact Edward explains it pretty well.

When Edward looks at lack, he sees it as being something that is only brought about by the individual. He believes that your own actions, thoughts, and attitudes will bring about an artificial scarcity of resources. Edward says that this artificial lack of resources is not actually real—it exists only in our minds, as we focus on the things that we don’t have rather than the things that are available to us.

He believes that true lack only exists when someone has no access to resources—whether those resources be financial, physical, mental, or emotional. When someone has access to resources but they squander them or don’t use them to their advantage, it isn’t a lack of resources that is at fault—it is the individual’s personal choices and attitudes that create the feeling of lack. Same way we see attractive people feel ugly though they have women or men chasing them, modeling opportunities, and experience many examples of pretty privilege lol. You’re a hot girl.. you’re just not using it to your advantage, same way you have everything in imagination and access to anything yet… nothing bc of your own perceptions. That’s not lack. Simply inappropriate usage of recourse. A waste for better use of words.

[eamour]

dare to assume it.

when we find out about the law and that we can manifest anything — literally anything — we often feel overwhelmed and don’t really know what to do with that. our entire lives, we‘ve been told that hard work pays off and now a guy like neville goddard is trying to make us believe that we can have anything we desire by simply… assuming that we do?

crazy. and i can imagine that many people have applied this knowledge and immediately changed themselves and therefore their entire world. but some people… some people still seem to be in disbelief. they know what to do, they know that it’s possible, but they cannot dare to assume. but you? you aren’t one of those people.

shamelessly claim your desire.

you are god, this is your desire, you know what you need to do — what is holding you back? you want this desire and you are allowed to have it, you are deserving of having it. you don’t need anyone to give you permission to manifest it. you don’t need anyone to tell you if you should manifest it or not. you don’t need anyone to tell you whether you can have it or not. this is your world, your rules, your assumptions. you can have it and you will have it!

forget about the outside world.

you shouldn’t care about what the world likes to think of your desire. you shouldn’t care about your current circumstances either. they do not determine if you can have your desire or not, you do! it doesn’t matter if you don’t know how, when or if it will manifest. all you need to do is going within yourself and, in your imagination, giving yourself your desire. and you can do that. you are supposed to do that.

nothing can stop you.

fear shouldn’t stop you, disbelief shouldn’t stop you, doubts shouldn’t stop you. you want it? you can have it. and your goal is to fulfill yourself, to experience your desires and to feel the joy that comes along with it. so, do not hold yourself back!

do not reject your desires.

but you want this? you want to have this? you want to feel happy? you want to be relieved? you want to experience having it? you want to accept it? you want to know it? — then want it. want to have it. want to feel happiness. want to be relieved. want to experience having it. want to accept it. and want to know it. why would you reject your desire? why would you not grant yourself that wish? exactly.

you can do it.

this is your world. you create everything — even the circumstances that you worry about, even the fear that is lying somewhere within you, even the things that depict a barrier for you in your journey. you are in control of everything, in charge of whatever is happening around you. why don’t you own this? you are god, not just the title, but THE god himself. the god of YOUR reality. act like it! dare to assume it! shamelessly claim your desire and forget about all the outer things that seem to bother you. there is nothing that can stop you, no one to hold you back but you! you don’t need to reject your desires because if you want them, you are the only one who can get them! it’s your world, do whatever you want with it.

with love, ella.

[astroninaaa]

wtf is going on with cellbit - by a brazilian law major student

hey besties ever since the day cellbit released that PDF i’ve been keeping up with his shit bc as a law student (only two years to go!!!!) in brazil it’s kinda really interesting to see how it goes, specially since i don’t think we’ve ever had this sort of judicial action taken by an internet celebrity, like, ever. so i’ve decided to kinda explain what’s going on. if anyone has any questions after this i’d be really up to talk about it i love talking about law 🫶 xoxo let’s start. also sorry if anything reads weird english is not my native language okay

for those who don’t know, very recently, a judicial action taken by cellbit has made public. in this action, he’s suing over 200 people for the crime of defamation.

the action was taken to court in january, but it was under what we call “secret of justice”, which means only cellbit himself and twitter’s lawyers had access to it. now that there have been decisions by the judge and everything, the process’s been made public.

basically, cellbit started an action against twitter (NOT THE PEOPLE WHO COMMITTED THE CRIME YET), citing a little over 200 tweets that accused him of crimes like SA, psychological abuse, pedophilia, and others. all of those are real crimes in brazil — and accusing someone of committing crimes (specially as awful crimes as those) without proof is a crime in itself (defamation). he claimed that the tweets were harmful to his honor, mental health, and reputation, besides categorizing as defamation, since there’s no investigation going on against him for all these infractions he’s being accused of.

with that, he asked twitter to delete all the tweets, and to provide him with the personal information of said twitter accounts so he can sue them directly for defamation. he did these requests through something called “tutela cautelar”, which means the judge gets to decide whether or not twitter has to do these things before proof production and proper investigation, since, if twitter doesn’t do those things, the damage to his honor and reputation will be ongoing + he won’t be able to sue the proper people in time.

the judge conceded to his requests, and twitter has already deleted all the tweets. the main discussion going right now is wtf do they do about the international accounts — does our law apply to them? what’s gonna happen? we don’t know yet. that’s being discussed in court for the moment and, considering brazilian courts, it might take quite a while.

so, yeah, all those people aren’t being sued YET. but they will, probably somewhat soon.

it’s also important to mention that this lawsuit is from january and was only now released to the public. there’s probably a lot more coming after the whole fiasco that led him to releasing his statement, including a lawsuit against his ex herself.

now, other topics — could he sue other twitter accounts for cyber bullying or death threats? probably, but my personal opinion is that suing for defamation and focusing on accounts that were accusing him of having committed crimes was a much better move because it’s a much stronger case.

there’s very little room for discussion when a person has outright said “cellbit committed this crime”. death threats have more room for discussion: “oh, but they’re hundreds of miles away, it wasn’t a serious threat”, “they didn’t mean it��, “it was a joke”. same thing goes for cyberbullying: it can get too subjective.

defamation isn’t subjective. you accuse someone of a crime they didn’t commit? boom, defamation, at least according to our laws. so, to me, personally, it makes a LOT of sense for his lawyers to focus on that: he’s a LOT more likely to win than if he was suing for cyberbullying, threatening, insult, or any of that. also, he’s a lot more likely to win FASTER.

when he gets to sue the actual people who committed the crime, that is. for now, he’s only requested twitter to give him the necessary information to get to these people, which i think they’ll very likely be obligated to do. there are digital data protection laws in brazil, but a crime is a crime. digital data protection isn’t gonna protect you from the court.

another thing: LGPD (brazil’s general law of personal data protection) forces all social media companies to keep records of all the content posted by their users for AT LEAST six months. many companies keep it for way longer. that’s a law created for judicial purposes, in case something published to twitter, facebook, or instagram needs to be analysed by a court. that’s why even tho twitter has deleted the tweets, they still have them, and why it doesn’t matter if the people responsible are deleting the tweets, the accounts, the fucking app itself. the records are still there, and they will be used judicially.

i think that’s the overall for the situation, but i’m willing to answer any questions and to discuss it if anyone wants to! i’m a big law enjoyer. also personally i think cellbit is so fucking right for this like YEAH people don’t get to commit fucking crimes on twitter and get away with it. really interested in how this is gonna go law-wise, but in general also really glad to see someone take action like this.

[crunchyroaches27]

”You’re safe, pet.” | TF 141 x omega!reader

OKAYYY BEAR WITH ME! I just released a pt2 of the ghoap post I made but I could not help but write this one. It’s fluff and angst and the same time.

omega!reader is rescued from a Omega trafficking ring by TF141

BACKGROUND INFO

everyone has lil tails and ears (🥺) + Omegaverse AU + they/them pronouns used; Gender neutral + Alphas have pointed canines for marking

there are more characters, like Alejandro but he doesn’t play too much of a major role. He doesn’t deserve to be here

Price is the pack leader. He is an Alpha— the most dominant out of his other mates. His word is absolute law. He likes to regularly scent his pack, it makes him feel reassured that his pack is safe. Price is essentially their cigarette-smoking dad

Ghost is next in line in this chain of command, he is also an Alpha. He is more impulsive than the others and often has to have many restraints, leading to him often being aloof and angsty. Soap likes Ghost, but Ghost is too fucking slow

Gaz is third in line, also an Alpha like the ones before him. He is cool and collected, yet he also is a bit of a rebel— here and there he will challenge Price’s authority and be snarky

And finally, Soap. Poor Soap is at the bottom, being a Beta. Despite not being an Omega, he still carries out monotonous tasks. As the “peacemaker” of his pack, he ensures that all is well between them. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a jackass sometimes. His body scent is fainter, but his scenting abilities are better than the rest bc he is a Beta

In this cruel world made up of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, there is bound to be danger lurking in every dark alley, every shady nightclub. Over the course of three days, you had seen and felt things you thought would never end. You were used and passed along like a joint. One particular Alpha paid a good fortune for you, and you found yourself dressed in skimpy clothes and drugged with aphrodisiacs. Your pheromones leaked like a pipe. There’s no hope. Why even bother? you thought angstily as you were transported to a new location.

You’d heard of the tragic trafficking of Omegas, but you didn’t expect to experience it firsthand. Omegas have to know every tactic to defend themselves. Your ears drooped in disgust and a sort of disbelief as your body began to enter some sort of stupor; the drugs meant to make you extremely docile and languid were starting to kick in. The sudden sensation of a sharp turn and the screech of wheels snapped you out from your haze. Instead of hearing the usual excited chatter, you heard gunshots. You were too lethargic to even move, so you passed out in your seat. When you awoke, four men surrounded you; three Alphas and one Beta.

You found yourself on a small cot. Three Alphas and one Beta were sniffing your pheromones to deduce your mental, physical, and emotional state. “Aye, Omega’s ‘woken up,” the Beta with the warhawk mumbled. The bearded Alpha hummed. “Hmm. Let’s start with introductions. What’s your name, Omega?” Another Alpha, clad in a skull mask, trilled, seemingly pleased at your arousal (arousal as in the waking up sense!!). “You’re safe, pet. We don’t bite, at least, not unless you want us to.” He jibed with a British lilt once he sensed your fear. His dark-skinned pack mate snorted, rolling his eyes. You could smell he was an Alpha, too.

All of their ears were perked high in expectation, their eyes watching your every move, sniffing every pheromone released into the already stuffy air. “Y/N,” your response made them nod in acknowledgment. “Mm, ‘Kay. We already knew that. Jus’ wanted to see if we got the right person.” The bearded Alpha sighed before continuing. “Well, I’m Price. This ‘ere is Ghost, Gaz on my right, and Soap’s the one in front of ya.” Soap promptly bent down and twinkled at you, his tail wagging. You didn’t even have to ask for their ranks, you could smell it in the bodily fragrances they released— that applied for them too. You could tell that Price, Ghost and Gaz were all Alphas, while Soap was a Beta.

You wondered how they weren't dying to breed you, your pheromones were uncapped and flowing out into the air freely. They must be taking some kick ass suppressors, you surmised. You were, for the lack of better words, glad they weren’t groping your body ravenously. Yet, despite their composed demeanors, glints of wolfish desires were expressed through their eyes. Their tails were rigid and raised.

“We saved you from that trafficking ring— shouldn’t you be more grateful?” Ghost earned himself an elbow pinch from Price. Ghost lowered his ears and grumbled as Gaz snickered. “Omega’s pumped full of drugs. Damnit, they’re barely alive,” Price grunted, his brows knitted— not in regards to Ghost— but at your deplorable condition. “Don’t expect much yet.”

“Soap, call in exfil, we need to go back to base. We need to get this Omega treated.” At Price’s order, Soap’s ears flicked and he soon got to work. “Don’t worry, Omega,” Price murmured, his thick fingers tracing circles on your sunken-in cheeks. He practically melted at the sigh you soughed. “You’re safe, pet.”

One half of you loved his touch, the Omega side that constantly craved the touch and comfort of an Alpha; the other half wanted to flinch back and snarl at it. You’d been touched, and not in a nice way— you didn’t want to bear that again. Yet because Price’s touch was refreshingly compassionate, the former side won.

At the hospital

When you arrived at the base, you were stirred awake by a splitting headache, an after effect of the narcotics. Your vision was bleary but you could tell that you were in an infirmary— and that you were not alone, either.

Ghost and Soap were seated on the chairs adjacent to your little mattress. Their tails were curled curled together as they waited for your awakening. When you finally announced it by clearing your throat, both of their ears shot up in attention and whipped their heads around to face you.

Soap was the first one to detach from the tail-curling and walk towards you, a gentle concern painted onto his face. “Ye feelin’ any better, Omega?” He chuckled at your reply, a tired no. His hands neared to replace the tape covering your scent glands, but then he stopped, seemingly remembering his manners. “Mind if I change ‘em? Not gonna try anything slick,” Soap asked, his icy blue eyes warming themselves for you.

“No,” you croaked. Slowly, he started to strip the tape off, clean your gland, and patch a new piece of tape on. Obviously, your scent had been carried in the air, exciting both Soap and Ghost. You knew Soap had a better nose than the rest. Soap’s pupils had dilated, making you a bit uneasy, “not gonna try anythin’,” he assured you again, smelling your distrust.

“Where’s Price and Gaz?” You questioned, hoping you remembered the name of the two Alphas right. “They’re in Mexico. With a friend; they should be back soon.” Ghost replied, rising to his feet to join Soap. They both assessed you with such focused attention— especially Ghost— making you feel like a piece of meat again. Your ears pinned themselves against your head.

Ghost’s inhaled deeply through his mouth, his breath trembling. He leaned closer towards you, his head tilting to try and whiff up any of your heady pheromones that still lingered in the air from the tape-replacing. Ghost's ears were angled towards you.

Ghost realized what he was doing and promptly gave you your space, as if to prove his salaciousness was kept under control. Or maybe he did it as an apology. "Sorry, just, you smell nice."

Soap hummed in what could be expressed as skepticism.

"Well, I think we should leave 'em to their own devices." Soap said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. He ordered for a glass of water to be delivered to your room before he left with his packmate.

You were left alone with your thoughts. You realized how much of a windfall this was. Out of hundreds of millions, you were saved. You had quite possibly the aid of God by your side. What an occurrence.

Sorry. Didn't really know how to end it, but pt2 will come out fs 😚

[saphronethaleph]

Applied Maya

“Your overconfidence is your weakness,” Luke said, calmly.

“Your faith in your friends is yours,” the Emperor replied.

Vader shook his head. “It is pointless to resist, my son.”

“It is pointless to control the galaxy,” Luke retorted. “I’ve learned things about the Force that mean I understand that now."

He waved his hand, and Vader tensed, but it turned out to be for emphasis instead of telekinesis. “The Force is everywhere. In everything. There’s… a level of reality which is far beyond what we care about. It’s around us, everywhere. Even in us.”

“What are you talking about?” the Emperor asked, thrown off his argument about how everything was futile.

“The Force,” Luke explained. “And… us. And everything, because the Force is everything. And we’re the Force. We’re… luminous beings, and our bodies are only crude matter that outlines them and gives our spirits somewhere to be.”

“What are you on about?” the Emperor demanded. “Vader! What is he on about? Is this some kind of Jedi nonsense?”

“It is possible,” Vader mused. “But I do not recall hearing it before.”

“I can explain more, if you’d like,” Luke said, earnestly. “The way that it works is that there’s more than one layer of existence, and this is a layer of reality but compared to the Force it’s just an illusion. Which means that – yes, you should do everything you can to make things better in this world, but – no, this world isn’t all there is, and you aren’t your body. Your body is just an approximation.”

He looked at his hand. “I lost this on Cloud City and… it didn’t make me any less of me. I’m still me, because I’m not my body, I’m the one who lives inside it. And the Force is like proof of that.”

That drew a blank look from the Emperor, and what would probably have been a blank look from Vader.

“Elaborate,” Vader requested.

“Well, we all know that the laws of physics exist, right?” Luke asked. “They define exactly how things work. How things fall, or they don’t. How orbits work. And yet, I can stretch out my hand and pull something into it. Which means the laws of physics aren’t laws, they’re just very persistent illusions.”

“I believe the interaction is mediated by midichlorians,” Vader said. “They are like mitochondria for the Force.”

“So?” Luke replied. “That simply means that part of how we are outside physical reality can be measured. I’ve heard the explanations, I’ve seen it – all that the explanation really does is put it into words, and give it a framework.”

He made another expansive gesture.

“This is trite nonsense,” Palpatine said. “Your friends on the Sanctuary Moon will not survive.”

“And if that happened, I would be sad,” Luke said. “Of course I would. But I came here willing to die, because death is not all that there is.”

Palpatine glowered at Vader.

“This one is broken,” he said. “Do you have another possible new apprentice for me?”

“The supply is a bit low, my Master,” Vader said.

“And I know about your rebel fleet,” the Emperor went on. “They will be ambushed by my fleet, just as an entire legion of my best troops is waiting for your friends.”

“That’s a shame,” Luke said. “But it’s not the same as something being unrecoverably bad.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...what?” he said. “You make no sense.”

“You can think of it like a shadow,” Luke said. “Or a hologram. It looks real, but it’s not the most real thing. It’s illusion, just a very persistent illusion which is why so many are taken in by it.”

“This doesn’t sound very empirically sourced,” Vader muttered. “Did you come up with all this yourself? If not, who taught you?”

“Yoda,” Luke replied, and both the Emperor and Vader flinched slightly.

“Yoda’s alive?” Vader asked, sounding horrified and fascinated.

“Not since… about three days ago, I think?” Luke answered. “I could be off by a day or two on that, I spent a lot of it in hyperspace.”

The Emperor tried very hard to stifle a sigh of relief, and didn’t quite manage it.

“You know Yoda?” Vader said. “You met Yoda?”

“Yes,” Luke agreed. “I was there with him at the end. Obi-Wan told me where he was living.”

“What?” Vader asked, now sounding baffled. “...how?”

It was his turn to wave his hand to make a gesture. “Because I remember Cloud City, and you were reasonably talented, but you seemed self taught. You did not fight like you’d had two and a half years of Ataru lectures from the death gremlin… there weren’t nearly enough backflips for it.”

“...oh, I see,” Luke said. “No, Obi-Wan told me on Hoth.”

“On… Hoth,” Vader repeated, slowly. “He’d been dead for several years at that point. Hadn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke confirmed, readily. “He’s a ghost. He’s still around.”

The younger Skywalker shrugged. “Kind of proves what I was saying, right? Death isn’t the end of existence. A person lives on after the death of their body. They become one with the Force, and the Force is one with them, but they still exist.”

Vader was silent for a long time.

“...huh,” he said, eventually.

“Anyway, as I was saying – Father – Your Highness,” Luke went on. “I don’t fear death because death is the loss of the crude flesh, which is just a cloak for our true selves, who are luminous beings of light. To ask others to accept suffering of the flesh is unfair, because they feel it as real, but I understand it for the illusion that it is and so I’m willing to suffer and die for my beliefs – in a very real sense, it doesn’t mean as much to me as it would to anyone else. Because I know the truth.”

“This is all the ramblings of a senile madman, translated through the mouth of a naive boy,” the Emperor said. “What kind of proof could you possibly have?”

“...what, apart from the fact that I communicated with my dead mentor, and he gave me information that I did not know before?” Luke asked, curious. “That was sufficient for me to accept it when Yoda told me, but there’s also the extent to which understanding the illusive nature of reality amplifies my understanding of what the Force truly is.”

“I have to admit, it would explain why Obi-Wan vanished,” Vader mused, sounding like he was talking to himself more than the others.

“You don’t know about the Force,” the Emperor said, snidely. “Certainly your understanding is not as deep as mine!”

Luke examined him.

“You actually believe that,” he said. “But you think what I’m saying is nonsense?”

“If you understood the Force better, you would not be my prisoner!” the Emperor retorted.

“I’m not,” Luke said. “That’s an illusion as well.”

“You cannot just declare anything you don’t like to be an illusion!” Palpatine raged.

“I can if it is,” Luke replied, still calmly, and reached out his hand. His lightsaber slapped into it, then he let go and it floated back across the room to where Palpatine had put it.

He shrugged. “I’m here because I want to save my father. I surrendered because I thought that would be the best way to do it. I’m standing here on a battle station I fully expect to be blown up, because I am committed to saving my father. From you. That’s why I’m here, and it has nothing to do with you having any power over me. You don’t.”

The Emperor attempted to prove Luke wrong by electrocuting him, which lasted about ten seconds until Vader threw him out the window.

The air, on the other artificial hand, stayed put.

“You might be right, son,” Vader said, sounding scientifically fascinated as the room didn’t depressurise. “Accepting this really is helping me understand and use the Force.”

“I’m glad to have helped,” Luke replied, reminding himself that electrical burns were also illusions no matter how persistent they were. “What do we do now?”

“Leave the room, probably,” Vader suggested. “Then we can see about deciding whether we want to keep this station or destroy it.”

He made a curious noise with his respirator. “Are the Empire’s succession laws real or an illusion? I am fairly sure I could abdicate in your favour if you would like.”

“Mon Mothma would be better, I think,” Luke said, after some consideration. “Or Lando. Lando might work.”

[guiltyasdave]

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)

[reveluvdoll]

overconsumption of loa

i’ve been planning on making this post for a while now as it is something that i was guilty of when i joined the loa side of tumblr & twitter.

so after you have read this and realised that maybe you are guilty of this too, then it is a sign!

manifesting = i want something —> i give it to myself in imagination & PERSIST in the assumption that i have it —> the 3d reflects my imagination

“all you need do is believe you are what you want to be and then let the world (which is nothing more than yourself pushed out) go to work to make your assumption possible” - edward art

techniques = visualising, affirming, scripting, listening to subliminals etc.

remember that techniques are a preference & are used as a TOOL in manifestation!! you don’t NEED to do them in order to manifest something because the only thing that matters is SELF!!!

okay now we know the basics of manifestation, which you already knew because you have read all these posts about loa!! so why aren’t you applying them? why are you so focused on reading so many blogs about loa & wishing that these success stories that you read are you??

you are over-consuming so much loa content to make sure that you are “manifesting correctly” or you’re looking for more proof that loa works, when in fact you just need to close this damn app & start applying the law to manifest your dream life!!

“you may think it doesn’t work, but that’s because you haven’t tried it” - edward art

p.s. edward art’s series on reddit is just *chef’s kiss*

[heavenangelly]

My opinions on what this community has come to

I know that I don’t really make posts anymore, and that’s simply because I have said what’s needed to be said. I’ve answered asks but end up turning them off after a few days. This is because the answer will always be the same regardless of ur circumstance. Assume and persist.

But I also feel like along the way, people have forgotten what the LAW OF ASSUMPTION actually is. People have become lazy and undisciplined and because they can’t manifest their desires they attack bloggers on anon mode and make unnecessary drama. Calling people names, making bloggers deactivate, framing them as bad people, etc. the list goes on and I’m actually so appalled by this community sometimes. And I don’t mean this in a superior way, but us bloggers are fucking helping you. We are teaching you a law so that you can get your dream life and in return we get hate, people calling us names, trauma dumping, sending asks upon asks saying the exact same fucking thing and the worst of all, people never applying. If all bloggers deactivate and all that’s left of the community is you hateful learners and undisciplined learners, the law will die with us. What the actual fuck is wrong with some of you? You will attack everyone but yourselves for YOUR mistakes. Do you want your desires or not? I don’t care what you circumstances are, because they never mattered. Log off of tumblr and apply the law instead of complaining so goddamn much. It’s no one’s fault but your own. And that may be a harsh pill to swallow, but it’s the truth. You are your saviour but you’re also your villain. It just depends on who you want to be. Your lack of belief in yourself is no one else’s problem but your own. Do some fucking shadow work or something or I don’t know, ACTUALLY APPLY THE LAW?

And back to what the law of assumption actually is, it’s whatever you assume to be true is true. And one of the things you absolutely have to do is persist. It’s not optional. It’s not an opinion. You need to persist if you want to be different. Assuming + persisting = success.

What is an assumption? Something you accept without proof. You don’t wait, you don’t hope for your assumption to be correct, you accept and it is shown in your reality. That is LAW.

you should be assuming its in imagination while leaving the 3d alone since it will always change to match who you are being in imagination…always. persist in the assumption that its done, because it literally is. you never needed physical evidence especially since imagination is what produces the physical evidence in the first place - etherealkissed88

Affirmations, scripting, vaunting, void, etc are all METHODS. They are METHODS that help you feel fulfilled in the facts it’s ALREADY yours.

This is no shade to any blogger who is an affirm and persist blogger, and not to bring back old drama with states and affirmations, but as an assume and persist blogger, what you guys are teaching can be wrong. You NEED to be fulfilled. You NEED to have changed self in order to get a change in your reality. Robotic affirming is something that along the process you eventually feel fulfilled from, but as someone who has tried it, I hated it. It felt like I was going in loops and loops and I NEVER felt fulfilled. And it certainly never manifested. And if it works for you, that’s great. I’m not saying stop. But if it doesn’t fulfil you, states/assuming will.

How I found states/tumblr

I remember I always used to use subliminals but lacked faith and would assume that some of them didn’t work and I eventually got tired of using them. I would legit sleep with earphones and hope for the best. I remember how I wished there was a way to use my energy to manifest. And that’s when I found tumblr and then found states. I literally found a way to do that and was so grateful.

And states are NOT a method. They are being. A mood. You can tell what state you’re in by the thoughts you get. Thoughts/affirmations come from your state. If you are in a state of lack, you will naturally get thoughts about how you can never manifest, your desires aren’t here, etc. States are endless and infinite and you can enter any state you like just by making a decision to enter it and choosing to stay there.

I’ve been in this community for a few years now and have seen many popular blogs leave their mark, and get their dream lives, and then leave. And that’s actually good for them. They actually fucking applied. And sometimes after their success stories were posted, angry entitled anons wanted proof or called them liars. You people are impossible to please.

You can either believe in the law of assumption or not. Either way, it’s a law. But don’t make it anyone else’s problem but your own.

My advice to the learners and bloggers of this community.

I think that the learners of this community need to actually apply now and to stop complaining. And bloggers need to put their foot down and stop trying to please everyone. As you bloggers gain popularity, you will gain haters. Do not give them energy. And DO NOT water down the law. Do not accommodate lazy learners by saying they don’t have to feel fulfilled, just consistent. WRONG. You have to feel fulfilled to be different. You cannot expect change without having changed. It’s like waiting for a plant to grow but you haven’t watered it. How the fuck will it grow?

End

I may get hate for this, I may get people agreeing with me, but I don’t not like what this community has become. YES this is YOUR reality and you decide but there is a core foundation you need to start on and needs to be exercised regardless of what you assume. Please do not let the law become something different than what it actually is.

Please do not make this community like law of attraction. This community was meant to be a safe space for everyone, please do not ruin it.

I don’t know if I’ll leave or anything, but I’m so thankful for all my mutuals and followers. You guys mean the world to me and to all the silent learners that have applied or even struggle to but never give up, I believe in you. You can do this. Anyone can. The law is easy. You just have to believe.

I hope this post has gave you guys some insight and brought you back to the roots of the law again.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Being a “centrist” sounds eminently reasonable, doesn’t it? A centrist is a moderate, right? Someone who is rational and practical and takes the middle ground. Someone who isn’t extreme like those crazy ideologues on the far right or far left. A centrist, logic dictates, is really what everyone should strive to be. But stop for a moment and ask yourself how you would define a centrist in more specific terms. When you start spelling out what the word really means, it becomes clear that it obfuscates more than it illuminates. The word does not describe a set of ideas so much as it reinforces a system of power. This, of course, is a feature not a bug of political language. As George Orwell wrote in his famous essay Politics and the English Language: “In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defence of the indefensible. Things like the continuance of British rule in India, the Russian purges and deportations, the dropping of the atom bombs on Japan, can indeed be defended, but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face, and which do not square with the professed aims of political parties. Thus political language has to consist largely of euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness.” Orwell wrote that essay in 1946. Today, 78 years later, it feels just as relevant. Look, for example, at the carnage in Gaza and the West Bank. Look at the statements from Israeli leaders that clearly suggest genocidal intent. Look at the tragedies that barely make a dent in the public consciousness any more. Last week, for example, an Israeli airstrike killed four-day-old twins, along with their mother and grandmother, when their father went to collect birth certificates in central Gaza. Look at the levels of brutality that barely seem to register any more: there is video evidence of the sexual abuse of Palestinians at a notorious Israeli military prison (though the more accurate term is “torture camp”) and, even with that evidence, we know there will be no real accountability. Look at the dead. Nearly 40,000 people in Gaza are now dead, including nearly 15,000 children. When you look at the scale of devastation, it seems likely that those figures are an underestimate. Further, counting the dead is excruciatingly difficult: kids are being blown into fragments so small that their surviving relatives have to collect pieces of them in plastic bags. Then there are the tens and thousands more who are now dying from starvation, or facing a looming polio epidemic. Look at the West Bank, meanwhile, where Israel has published plans for new settlements, which violate international law. Since 7 October, the Israeli army and settlers have displaced 1,285 Palestinians and destroyed 641 structures in the West Bank, according to the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs. Ethnic cleansing is taking place before our eyes. Now look at how all of this is being justified. This war isn’t just being waged with bombs, it’s being waged with “euphemism, question-begging and sheer cloudy vagueness”. When you lay out what is happening in clear language, it is indefensible. So political language dresses all those dead and starving children up in euphemism. It obscures ethnic cleansing with vagaries. Don’t believe your eyes, political writing says. What you are seeing is far more complex than your eyes can possibly comprehend.

[...]

In order to defend the indefensible, politicians and political writers move away from concreteness, from clear language, and hide behind the respectableness of terms like “centrism”. Pro-Palestinian protesters are labelled the far-left or extremists. Continuing to unconditionally send arms to Israel and shield the country’s far-right government from accountability, however, is considered a centrist – and therefore reasonable – position.

[...]

As Orwell wrote, atrocities can be defended, “but only by arguments which are too brutal for most people to face, and which do not square with the professed aims of political parties”. If the Democratic party were to be honest about why it is doing very little to stop the carnage in Gaza and the settlements in the West Bank, the bluntest argument would be along the lines of: “Israel is an important tool in maintaining US imperialism and western interests. The ethnic cleansing of Palestinians is expedient to those interests. Human rights law doesn’t apply to atrocities enabled by the west.” Of course, being pro-ethnic cleansing doesn’t quite square with the do-gooding branding of the Democratic party. Instead, we are bombarded with the idea that massacring children is somehow a centrist and moderate position.

22 August 2024

[weirdmageddon]

i posted this on twitter also but it’s still eating at me. i’m so fucking embarrassed to be jewish rn. i dont want to be associated with this ongoing bullshit from israel. why do we need our own state. theyre just making every jew across the globe look bad in general even though many of us are conflicted about zionism and the legitimacy of israel as a state

people have hated jews throughout history for no fuckin reason but now israel exists but now its like. GIVING people reasons to hate us as a group. note that i DON’T conflate zionism with jewishness, but a lot of people in the world don’t know the difference because theyre uninformed and been dripfed cultural antisemitic tropes their whole life and that’s the scary part is them falsely putting two and two together. like what the fuck israel stop youre just putting fuel on the fire for people around the world to hate an entire group of historically persecuted people if youre being this shitty with your insane colonialism and apartheid like……I Want No Fuckin Part Of This. you’re spelling our own doom. you cant just swoop in and go “mine now” and then oppress the people you took land from under a regime without my blood boiling at the injustice no matter WHO you are. even if my lineage is tied to you. so when news outlets support israel it doesn’t feel like they have the best interest of jews as a people in mind. it’s in the interest of a zionist ethnostate and whatever that christian zionism belief is about the jewish people returning to the holy land as prerequisite for the second coming of jesus. its not like they care about us as a dispersed ethnocultural group, it’s all for that religious narrative that a bunch of people in the US are backing.

saying you want all jews to die is antisemitic. beating someone up because they’re jewish and no other reason without knowing their views is antisemitic. criticizing human rights violations perpetrated by israel and the belief that one group deserves more rights another is not antisemitic. and the fact that israel has the ability to pull that antisemitism card in response to criticisms of the violations they commit because their state is the “jewish homeland” drives me fucking insane. take fucking accountability for your actions. and yes, there do exist full-on anti-jewish groups in the middle east that go beyond hatred of israel’s policies and existence as a state and i’m tired of people pretending there aren’t in fear of appearing to seem like they support the state of israel. on the other side of things many people overestimate this by fearmongering and saying EVERY arab is out to get jews worldwide, telling people like me “they want YOU dead”. this is not the belief every person in the middle east and it really rubs me the wrong way that people group millions of individuals into all-encompassing lumps like this. many people there do understand nuance of this political situation.

even if i have that “right of return” by israeli law or whatever, i don’t feel obliged to it; it does not register as fair. why do i have a “right of return” when i’ve never even been there in the first place while palestinians who have homes there can’t return to them? what’s the basis for that? substituting objective reality with an imaginary reality? i don’t think like that. i can hypothetically come and go whenever i please but palestinians are severely limited in mobility? what makes me more entitled to that land than the people who lived there for centuries? nothing that comes from natural law thats for sure. it’s all artificial and inflated.

but at the same time i also dont want to be the target of antisemitism and caught in the fray just for being ethnically jewish. once people start calling for the genocide of entire groups we’ve got issues (and you better believe this absolutely applies to the palestinian victims in gaza too), because people who dissent to the violence perpetrated by the loudest are caught in there with the people who are perpetrating the violence. lack of nuance. people conflating israel and its zionist apartheid policies with jewish ethnicity and culture worldwide. other people conflating being terrorist anti-jew with muslims worldwide (like that 6-year old palestinian-american boy that was just stabbed to death in chicago). scary times man. but as a jew i can’t just opt out of this if it’s how i was born as. i don’t have control over that. but i can control what i think and what my beliefs are

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (10/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“Betas, as we all know make up the main bulk of our world,” A circle is drawn around the ‘β’ sign, chalk flaking off as it taps against the blackboard. “But what about Omegas? Does anyone remember what the sign for it looks like?”

Silence. The lead of a pencil cracks when it’s unceremoniously dropped onto the floor, inciting the complaints of students that wanted to do anything but study.

“Amachi-sensei! Please don’t give us another surprise quiz…!” A student whose name escapes your mind sounds out, their hand raised into the air and a pout on their cheeks.

(You’re not really that close with any of your other classmates. Not even acquainted enough to remember their names…)

“Oh my, if you’re asking me like that I really don’t mind making one for all of you right now.” She huffs as she crosses her arms, shaking her head at the room full of her own students.

“Students must be prepared for anything, you know? A quick reminder doesn’t hurt!”

A collective groan and whines of complaints form a chorus of exasperated children.

“Always so excitable, aren’t you, kids?” Her tone is stale as her flats click against polished wooden floors, standing before the class as she adjusts her glasses. “But I’m reviewing this topic again for your sakes! This is your final year as an elementary student and now that you’re all 12,”

A clap of her hands together as she smiles, the apples of her cheeks blushed pink and the mole by her lip stretching out with her expression.

“It’s the year you present your secondary genders! I’m sure you’re all quite excited, are you not?”

Unfortunately for you, you didn’t quite catch any of that. Not one word managed to float into your attentive ears as Suguru flips through your textbook in your stead, inconspicuously making sure that it looked like you were at least following along.

You would be, if you weren’t so distracted.

“Today’s curse is cute too.” It really is. With flappy wings that looked too small for its body, a smooth, round and squishy body with wide, wide eyes that barely blinked—And the way it kept making little ‘chu!’ noises as it floated all around you. “It looks all blobby and chubby.”

(It’s a real wonder how it even flies. Maybe the laws of gravity don’t apply to cursed spirits.)

“You like it, right? I caught it just cause I thought you might.”

“Mhm. I like all the cute looking ones.”

Because Geto Suguru was one of those ‘cursed energy’ users, and Gojo Satoru had deemed him ‘capable’ enough, given what he had claimed to see through those pretty eyes of his that you’re too familiar with.

“Suguru’s different!” He’s huffing at you as he pokes at your cheek, jabbing the pads of his fingers into them as your head steams with all the information he had just dumped onto you in one fell swoop.

“He’s born with a technique and stuff. Real potential and everythin’.”

(Technique… The thing that people are born with and are supposedly meant to gain better control of as they grow older.)

“Bwut yuuu sfaid—“ He finally releases you. “Shoko doesn’t have a technique either…?” Or did you hear wrong? Was she able to officially learn this ‘Jujutsu’ because she did in fact have one? Or is she just special like Satoru because she’s rich too? Your head is really starting to feels like it was desperately trying to work cogs that haven’t been oiled in far too long.

It’s just not clicking.

“She’s different cause she’s like…” His eyes squint at you as your cheeks go back to being abused by hands that took too much interest in them. “Like a Band-Aid in Digimon.”

“But like a really, really weak Band-Aid and stuff. So she’s not a cure all like a Medicine. If ya go crazy in the head she can’t help.” You can see his grin grow all the more when he pulls at your cheeks and squishes them together.

“Hmph! Now she’s not as cool as ya thought, right?” He’s back to that proud smugness in his expression, eyes sparkly and so full of pride. “I still got the best one out of all of ‘em!”

(“So… She’s a like a Hyper Potion in Pokemon?” Just to put it in terms you understand better, anyway. Digimon’s tough.

“Hyper Potion’s too powerful. Treat ‘er like one of those super useless small purple ones that barely heal anything.”

“Those are supposed to only be good early game, though.”)

“Remember to ask your parents to sign your acknowledgment form for the checkup! Did everyone receive a copy?”

“Yes, Amachi-sensei!”

“Then class is dismissed— Don’t forget!”

It looks like Satoru wasn’t coming today either, it seems. Not even when third period rolled about and you were huddled up next to Shoko’s side as her head leans against your shoulder under the shade of the tree in the school courtyard, chatter in your ears and a yawn escaping your mouth.

(You think he must be really busy with his particular rich people stuff. You hope he’s at least eating well.)

Physical education was never your most favourite of classes. Partly because you just couldn’t seem to be good at anything that had to do with sports, and mostly because of all the sweat.

(And also, they separate the boys and girls. At least Suguru’s having fun playing basketball.)

“You have a pretty bad sense of smell, (last name)-chan! Maybe you’ll be a Beta?” Hayashi Yume is one of the few names that you actually do remember. A loud personality and openness to talking to everybody making it a breeze for her to get along with absolutely anyone.

Even you.

(When Gojo Satoru isn’t around, anyway. Suguru seems to think of her of a friend. Shoko too.)

There’s no fighting the most popular topic amongst the final year elementary students. No helping in the fact that this was all on each and everyone’s minds… But you just can’t really bring yourself to care.

“…what do you wanna be, Hayashi-san?” Just to change the topic away from you, away from this sudden spotlight that you don’t want. It was hard making a choice on this already… You don’t want to be ambiguous about it all over again should you be swayed.

“Oh, oh! I wanna be an Alpha, of course!” She gushes and squeals, hands on her cheeks and face alight with a blush so adorned with excitement. “My mother says it’s a one-way ticket to being successful in life! That’s why all the lead roles in movies are always played by ‘em!”

“Ehhh? But that’s just movies, though. Ya wanna be an actor or something?” Nishikawa Emi— You think. Hayashi-san’s best friend and possibly one of the few people in this school willing to talk to you despite your social circle.

You like her. She does the talking for you when you don’t know how to carry on— And you really like her nose bridge because it reminds you of your Saya-chan.

“N-No—“ A sigh, and crossed arms that finally loosen. “Fine, y-yea! I wanna be a famous movie star one day!”

(Hayashi Yume is really easy to read.)

“Pfft—“

“Stop laughing, Emi-tan!”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather be an Omega.” Nishikawa Emi nods to herself, her head tilted to the side, strong gaze flickering from her best friend to you and Shoko as her arms cross. “They got it really easy, no? Look pretty and they got any Alpha or Beta wrapped around their finger.”

“Eh…? Emi-tan, I thought fair-o-mones only affected Alphas and Omegas…?” Yume scratches at her head, her expression in clear confusion as she tries to recall the lesson they just had— Social Studies was always so difficult for no reason.

“Omegas are pretty enough to charm anyone, duh. My sister gave me a magazine and it was just full of pretty Omegas, and not even one of ‘em was ugly, so it’s gotta be true.”

“Huh…? Really…?”

(“(last name)-chan agrees.”

You think Nishikawa is right. Your Mama is super, duper, extremely heart-stoppingly beautiful. The prettiest around, even your Saya-tan would pale in comparison, and the old couple that lives across your home agree whenever you pop yourself through their gate to get the snacks they keep offering you.

“Mhm.”)

Only two out of three were mentioned to be positive. This must be what Amachi-sensei must have been talking about when she was going on about how there was a ‘bias’ and that ‘people don’t think everything can be equal’.

(Kinda makes sense now, you guess. But you’ll still keep true to your Beta favouritism. What’s so bad about being the most common? You would be able to fit in with lots and lots of people. Common interests save relationships! According to the daily advice channel, anyway.)

“Shoko, what do you wanna be?” It’s whispered and soft— Mindful of how she was quietly snoozing away on your shoulder as you feel her shift, hear her breaths shorten and her see her eyelashes flutter.

“Dunno…” She replies with a tone sluggish and tired, yet somehow able to perfectly comprehend your question. So she was listening despite being asleep. “Everything sounds like a pain to deal with. Don’t wanna choose…” And she’s back into dreamland.

An ambiguous answer.

“Ehhh? Ieiri-chan,” Yume shakes the sleepy girl’s shoulder. “You gotta at least like— Aaah!”

Maybe it’s your weird sense of heroism, the odd feeling of responsibility that came with being the person you are that you’re lunging towards the classmate that you didn’t know all that well, forcing her head down before the basketball could make direct impact with her face.

At the very least, you hope you don’t get a nosebleed. Please don’t let the hit be too hard, please don’t let it break your nose and require you to have emergency surgery like in that one movie Geto-papa played for everyone because Geto-mama didn’t allow you all to watch that one horror movie—!

Your eyes squeeze shut, teeth clenched and jaw tightened. Please, please please please please…!

And— Nothing. Just air in your face, a breeze in your ears and the familiar, panicked sound of a ‘chu!’ as you hear something akin to a spring bouncing. The basketball rebounds off of the poor curse, making it take the brunt of the impact and a surprised squeak escaping it—

Before you watch it get recalled back.

Suguru.

“Ahh! Sorry, sorry! We didn’t mean ta let the ball get so far out of court!” You hear the stampede of feet, the smell of sweat and the feeling of your heartbeat trying to recover from all that adrenaline. “You girls al’right?”

“(last name)-chan almost got hit in the face saving me! Do you boys have no manners at all?!” It’s Hayashi that’s clinging onto you, her arms around your neck as her eyes are teary and her nose was starting to run— A clear show of how touched she was by your actions, before she’s standing up to match the boy’s height to ensue an argument.

(She was always the overdramatic kind. But it works out for you ‘cause heroes always love a good damsel in distress.)

“I said I was sorry!”

“You can’t even keep a single ball in court! What would’ve happened if (last name)-chan wasn’t here and Emi-tan didn’t catch Ieiri-chan?!”

(Mama did once say that people who argue like an old couple may get married one day. Best of wishes to Hayashi-san and… The boy that you can’t seem to remember the name of.)

“You didn’t get hit, right?” A hand settles on your head from above, before helping you to stand up from your tumbled position on the ground. Your eyes flicker up to meet droplets of purple reflecting spots of sunlight, noir hair hastily tied into a miniature ponytail and strands blowing in the wind, whilst the sweat on his furrowed brow was frowned into a panic.

He’s patting your face, your hair, cheeks, eyes, nose— “I’m just checking for bumps. You sure you didn’t get hit?”

“Mn.” You have to assure him as you take out your handkerchief from your pocket, dabbing at the sweat on his forehead and trying to soften the deep furrow. “Of course I didn’t. You’re the one who saved me.”

And you have full trust in him, no matter what. Shouldn’t that be expected? Suguru’s the coolest person you know.

(And Ieiri Shoko remains asleep, even when Suguru is checking you over once more and had to begrudgingly leave with the rest of the boys whilst muttering something under his breath— With the ball tightly clenched in his hands.

Shoko’s now snoozing on Nishikawa’s shoulder as she stays deep within her dream… That drama she was talking about must’ve been really nice.

“Wow… Ieiri-chan must be really tired.”

“…she was studying really hard for the math quiz all night.” Anything to save your dear Shoko’s reputation.

“What?! We have a math quiz?!”

Suguru’s team won the match, by the way. You saw a lot of the opposing team members practically drag themselves to class with bruised faces and sore arms.)

——

“Remember,” Her hand smooths down the messy strands of your bed head, your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth and your eyes groggily blinking at your blurry reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“I’ll love you no matter what you are, okay?” The hairbrush gently combs through locks of your hair, her breathing soft yet just that little bit breathless.

You don’t need much to discern that she was nervous, don’t need superpowers to be able to tell that your Mama was scared. The slightest tremble in her hands, the way she was picking at every strand of your hair that was seemingly ‘out of place’.

But you don’t— Won’t share the same sentiments. Because you don’t care much for this kind of thing. It’s just like taking a test, right?

One that you can’t study for or any of your friends to tutor you for, but still a test all the same.

“It doesn’t matter which one you turn out to be. You’re still you no matter which one, and that won’t change.” A minty exhale accompanied by her very evident stress, her hands fussing over every strand of your already very brushed out hair.

(Was it bad that you didn’t think this was that big of a deal?)

“Mhm…” You’re awake enough to know not to talk with your mouth foaming with toothpaste, awake enough to be aware of how there was just something in the air that had your Mama acting like this today.

(Maybe it’s one of those Heat things you heard Amachi-sensei go through a few weeks ago. Now you wish you paid more attention instead of playing with Suguru’s curses…)

Your eyes meet hers in the foggy mirror of your bathroom; her hair is only slightly messed up, her face ever so pretty, yet so worried as she bites her lip and hugs you close.

“I’ll bwe fwine, Mwama.” (“I’ll be fine, Mama.”) You know better, yet you just can’t help but want to comfort her right now— Even if it’s spat out through a mouthful of minty toothpaste foam and a toothbrush that nearly drops out of your mouth.

“Iiiee profwise.” (“I promise.”)

And that was that. Though, you can still feel her slight uneasiness even when she smiles at your attempt of tying your own shoelaces, can feel that the air just hasn’t settled into the usual calmness that you were used to even when you waved her goodbye at the gate.

(You hope it all goes well today. If not for you, then for your Mama. At the very least, just for her.)

“Satoru.” You smile, a hand going up to wave as you climb into the unassuming, yet extremely fancy vehicle waiting just outside your home.

“Good morning.”

It was like clockwork. Backpack onto the carpeted floors of the car, a moment to catch your breath and your hand reaching towards a head of fluffy white to pat—

Your wrist gets caught.

“Hmph.” He looks pouty, irritated. Like he was going to erupt into a tirade of angry rambling and start comparing you to the ugliest Digimons that he knew of.

“Why’d ya always do that? I-I’m not a kid, ya know?!”

Why? Because you’ve been doing it since… Forever, you guess. He’s never stopped you before, never stopped you until now. So why? Was it the change in the air today? The odd pressure in the atmosphere? It should be obvious, all because he’s—

“Because you’re cute, Satoru.”

He doesn’t look satisfied with that reply. Not at all, especially when he narrows his eyes at you into a glare.

(Cute.)

“What, like a puppy or somethin’? Ya making fun of me?”

“No.” You shake your head, watch as his fingers tighten themselves ever so slightly against your wrist. That’s definitely not how you see him at all, not at all what you feel when you look at him, no matter how cute he was. “That’s not it.”

“Then what?” He had a huff to his tone, irritation and exasperation as he pulls on your hand and forces you to lean closer towards him— To meet his awaiting blue glare.

“Because… I like you too much?”

Silence follows. The air changes, and you catch the shoulders of the nameless driver that usually never said much stiffening—

Did you say something wrong? Something that offended him? You… Didn’t, right? You’ve always called him cute, and he’s always been fine with it. With reddened tips of his ears and eyes that looked like they were gonna bulge out of his head as he covered his face with an angry swing of his arm—

“T-Then I don’t wanna be cute!”

Oh. That’s… Kinda sad. Is it because he doesn’t like you back? That can’t be it, can it? You’ve both been friends since 4, he can’t possibly say that he hated you for all that time, could he?

(But even if he did, you think you’d be at peace to know that he did used to like you. That would be enough.)

“Why not…?” You don’t have a mirror right now, but you’re pretty sure you just can’t help the look of deposed, kicked puppy look in your eyes as you frown. “Satoru, do you not like me…? Did I do something wrong—“

“C-Cute doesn’t mean super attractive! And n-nobody likes to be called that! Hmph!” And he turns away, his hand splayed out on your face and effectively blacking out your vision as he makes sure to keep this distance between you and him.

(So… It was an insult? Have you been insulting your dear Satoru all this time?)

“Sorry, Satoru…”

“Stop apologizing, you stupid dummy!”

“Sorry.”

“Times are always changing, isn’t that right, Saya-san?”

“Indeed, Mr. Reporter! It’s speculated that because of the shift of the moon into its next lunar phase, everyone will be experiencing a change in their life to come.” Her hands wave around, her smile ever so blindingly adorable as you stare up at her pretty face upon the television screen.

Her fingers delicately make a heart, a charming, moe-filled wink towards the camera as you nearly feel your heart stop. “So always expect change, even if it’s ambiguous! You never know if it can be a blessing or a curse if you don’t go and experience it for yourself!”

Maybe change can be a good thing too, if your Saya-tan embraces it.

(“Good… ‘orning…” Geto Suguru was never an early riser. Not even on a day as ‘important’ as this was as he groggily drags himself into the car.

“Suguru.” A turn of your head towards the boy as you shift further inside to make room for him, pressing shoulder to shoulder with your white haired friend as he continues the little ramble about a boss he was fighting. “You look handsome today.”

“Wha—“ And his purple eyes are now blown wide, cheeks growing warm and red splashing onto his face as he freezes midway through— Nearly falling back had it not been for Kimiko-san supporting him from behind. “What— Wha?”

“Hey—! That’s reserved just for me! Don’t go calling Weird Bangs that too!”)

——

“(last name)-san, right?” Her eyes scan over the your sheet of paper as you tiptoe over the counter to meet eyes with the nurse lady.

(You also think it’s funny she’s referring to you in such a formal way despite being so much older than you.)

It’s unfortunate that you had to be separated from your friends… Even Shoko had to wave you goodbye as she was taken away by a personal doctor, whilst you were whisked away and separated from the other girls after brief height and weight measurements.

“No abnormalities in the past few months, correct?”

“Mn.” Not that you know of, anyway. Mama usually answers these types of questions for you at the doctor.

So it is kinda weird answering for yourself. On your tiptoes and with your eyes barely making it over the oddly tall counter. You swore your Mama told you that you’ve been growing a lot lately.

“Please proceed behind the curtain.”

And you did, poking your head in to check for enemies hiding in a corner only to meet with a smiling lady. With a cool lab coat and the— Setho-something scope. Heartbeat reader thingy.

(You know because you saw an episode of Saya-chan roleplaying as a doctor once for a special episode of her zodiac sign forecast. Just because you’re 12, doesn’t mean you need to know the names of everything yet.)

“Hello there.” Her smile is kind. Soft and gentle… And makes you less scared of the fact that she’s a stranger as you slowly, shyly step into the makeshift ‘room’ surrounded by curtains.

“…hi.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” A hand over her mouth as she tries to stifle her laughter and the crow’s feet around her eyes making themselves all the more prominent as you… Relax slightly.

“Ho… Mura-sensei,” You think that’s what the name tag says as you sit down on the very soft, very plush seat. “Am I a Beta?”

(You need to check the brand for this chair. Maybe Satoru will buy it and let you have one of the old, weirdly comfortable chairs he’s got at his house. Mama has been pretending that her back doesn’t hurt lately.)

“Hm.” Her eyes trail over to her computer, before flickering back down to you with an amused chuckle. “Straight to the point, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You wanna get out and get done. Then, you, Shoko, Suguru and Satoru are all gonna gather, open up the little envelope they give you with your assigned secondary genders, look at it and be done forever.

(Because nothing will change between all of you no matter what.)

“Smell this.”

And you do, bringing that little tin up to your nose and taking a big, big whiff of— Some sort of powdery substance inside?

“Powder…?”

The next didn’t seem to be any different, more of that stuff that smelled like nothing no matter how many big whiffs you took and exhaled out.

(Maybe it was some odd test for your nose. You hope you didn’t fail.)

“Form a fist with your hand and show me the underside of your arm, please.”

“…does the needle hurt?”

“Mm…” She thinks for a little bit, as if debating on the question that you gave her as she adjusts the thin needle. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t, but only for a little bit.”

Well… Good. At least she isn’t lying to you. You don’t like liars. Liars would be like that doctor your Mama called an ‘old coot’ once because he ‘didn’t know what he was doing’ as she carried you out of his examination room.

“I’ll give you a lollipop afterwards.”

“Deal.”

(It did hurt. Kinda. You definitely think it did. Your eyes were squeezed shut so tightly during the process so you don’t even know if it went in or not.)

“It seems that your question has to be undetermined today, (last name)-san.” Her right hand fingers tap against the keyboard as she types sentence after sentence, left hand penning up a messy string of words that you blink at least 3 times at— Before giving up.

“You’ll be receiving your results a little later than everyone else.”

——

“It’s rare.” Eyes trail over another sheet of paper filled with too many hard words and numbers. “But not out of the ordinary. It just means she needs to take extra precautions.”

“What about medication? Is there anything that can be prescribed? It’s dangerous for—“

“(last name)-san. I understand your concerns as a mother, but there is little I can do when your daughter is unable to differentiate the primary scents.”

Middle school is when things get serious, they say. Exams, social lives, more exams, club activities, even more exams… And the high school entrance exams that will determine where you’ll go.

(You don’t even know who ‘they’ are. Who are ‘they’ even to say that? You don’t agree. Mama always tells you that you should enjoy being in the present, no matter how old you get.)

“It’s okay.” She pats your head as you both walk out of the stuffy doctor’s room, her words breathy and clearly stressed. “You’ll be the same as you are now…”

“Mama just needs you to take some medicine everyday from now on, okay?”

But, the first week of middle school is probably the first time that you realize… Geto Suguru is extremely popular.

“Geto-kun! Do you mind teaching me this part?”

“Geto-san~ Ame-chan and I are gonna go to the movies later! Do you want to—“

“Oi! Geto! Come join the Kendo club! Coach said he’s heard about you in elementary!”

More so than the white-haired counterpart that you’re pretty sure even the most grumpy, most abstinent of people would find attractive.

(Mama says it’s because looks can sometimes make up for a lot of brash personalities.)

“U-Um— Gojo-san, if you don’t mind, you can eat some of my bento…!” She’s bowing, shaky hands presenting her cutely wrapped lunchbox as she keeps her shy gaze towards the floor. “I-It would be an honour for you to eat it…!”

Awkward silence and Gojo Satoru staring down your poor classmate with eyes that shone with an extremely proud, azure twinkle.

“Heh.” There’s a pleased, shit-eating grin on his face and barely held back disgust in those pretty eyes of his that flickered to and fro from Suguru to the girl still standing before him. “An honour for you, huh?”

(As if he was trying to show off.)

“But you’re not suggesting that I should be eating that trash in your hands, right?”

(So, it was then that you realize it’s not just your Suguru’s handsome looks that made him so popular with the girls.)

“Satoru.” Suguru’s hand gently dabs a handkerchief against the snowy-haired boy’s face, pressing the soft cloth against his skin and imploring the boy to clear his nostrils lest he somehow infect the rest of you with his germs.

“Your nose is leaking.”

“It’s that damn dusty ass classroom’s fault! How the hell do you both withstand that place?” He sniffles before blowing his nose, pressing the cloth embroidered with Suguru’s initials against his face to wipe up his snot.

“If you knew you should’ve wiped it up sooner. You trying to be the grossest kid in school or something? Tired of being the perfect golden boy?”

“Cry about it and use those ugly bangs of yours to wipe your tears.”

They get along well now. As well as… Getting into spats about games, the weather, why the takoyaki stall you all frequent suddenly used a different brand of bonito flakes, how the inclination of the umbrella Satoru threw did not purposely hit that poor student, why there were badly drawn doodles of Suguru’s face everytime he lent his notes to the both of you— Seriously, how was it possible that they could argue about anything and everything?

It was like a talent in itself. One that you have taken as an everyday occurrence as you chew on another spoonful of rice and enjoy the peace of eating lunch together on the school rooftop.

(You’re pretty sure you’re not allowed up here, but you’re also pretty sure the Gojo family pulled some strings again. Must be nice being rich and powerful.)

He leans in, quickly stealing the bit of food from your chopsticks as you stare on in confusion.

Eh?

“…?” With your head tilted to the side and blinking at him 3 whole times to really make sure.

“What.”

“I thought you didn’t like commoner food?” Especially yours that you and your Mama had made together last night. It’s exciting to be able to bring your own lunch to school once every month. It’s kind of like having the sports festival you used to have in elementary.

Just without the sports.

“Don’t feed him. Let him starve because he forgot to bring his own food today.” Suguru retorts with a huff, stuffing another riceball into his mouth as he angrily chews— Despite the fact that Satoru literally had half a riceball that definitely did not belong to him in his hands.

(It’s nice that they’re nice to each other.

“Hey! If y’er gonna punish me for forgetting, at least remind me with a call or something!”

“No way. You’re just gonna complain that I interrupted you whilst you were in the middle of eating an entire jar of sprinkles.”

“Satoru, is the meatball any good? Kimiko-san gave the recipe to my Mama only recently so we didn’t have much time to practice.”)

“Oh yea!” Rice is on the corner of his lip as he talks through a full mouth. “Kimi-chan says ya need to eat y’er medicine afterwards too or whatever.”

“(name)-sama.” Her slender, calloused hands are gentle as they lift up and off of your face, revealing the 3rd eye on her forehead blinking down at you as you stare back in awe.

(Cursed techniques can be so cool looking.)

“It’s simply a case of equivalent exchange.” The sparkling iris of her eye studies you intensely, staring so vividly into you that it felt like it was peeling back layers of your skin and boring deep into your flesh.

“It looks to me like your body had exchanged your strongest sense in favour of being able to house your current amount of cursed energy…” She sucks in a breath as her face starts to turn blue, her hands turning pale before her special eye disappears— And her face returns to normalcy.

“So your current senses are now akin to a Beta despite your genetic makeup.”

“Satoru’s right, for once.” Suguru’s reaching into his pocket, pulling out a little notepad with specific timings written down. “You gotta take your medicine on time.”

But it tastes really bad—

“I’ll be upset if you don’t.”

And your shoulders slump in defeat just as Satoru takes hold of your chopsticks, stuffing a meatball into your mouth before plopping one into his own.

“Yea, Suguru’s got a point. It’s tough bein’ what you are and stuff, ya know? Even worse if you can’t even feel how ya affect the area.” He swallows. “It’s like putting up a barrier against ya ownself while everyone else already knows what’s going on.”

And you just have to wither on the bench in defeat, back against the wall and letting out a sigh as Gojo continues to help himself to your lunch.

“But Shoko’s got it easy, though…”

“Ieiri?” Suguru’s shoulder brushes against yours as he leans back to stare up at the same sky as you. “That’s cause she’s a Beta. She’s can’t be affected or affect anyone with pheromones.”

Sigh. It must be nice to be like that.

“I wish I was a real Beta.”

“So? What is it?” Satoru’s splayed out on your futon as he stretches his limbs, his backpack hastily thrown to your floor as Suguru watches you hold the letter in your hand.

“You nervous?”

A little bit.

“I’ll open it if you don’t want to.” Shoko pipes up from your side as she peeks over your shoulder at the still unopened letter. “I’ll even read it out loud from the start and stuff.”

“Don’t give it to ‘er. She’s gonna skip out on the important bit accidentally and not realize it cause she can’t read as good as me.”

Just do it, right? You’re going to have to tell your Mama sooner or later when she comes home. So you ignore the light chatter throughout your bedroom, hold your breath as you tear through the envelope and slowly read—

Ah.

*Your child has presented as an Omega.

*As this result came with abnormal observations with your child, (name) (last name), we invite you to make an appointment with Dr. Homura for further evaluation at your earliest discretion.

previous masterlist next

nvy’s aftertalk;

sch has started again for me so i won’t be able to keep to the semi-regular schedule i’ve been updating this 🙂‍↕️

i’ll try to get my wedding fic up if possible if ykw that is and some other stuff too 😭

[beauty-and-passion]

TBOB PART 2: OF FLATLAND, EXWHYLIA AND EUCLYDIA (2/4)

To the poor souls who found this post by accident: hello, now you’re trapped in my neverending analysis of Bill Cipher and TBOB. Hope you find a nice place to seat, because we’re talking about Euclydia here and there is a whole post before this one, with all the references you need HERE.

Yes, you need to read that one first, especially if you want to understand what I’m talking about when I mention Flatland or Exwhylia.

<- Previous post - Masterlist

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PART 3: OF EUCLYDIA

“I liberated my dimension, Stanford, and I'm here to liberate yours.”- Bill Cipher, Weirdmageddon part 3

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A flat world based on regularity

Let’s start with the Euclidean anthem/song/whatever (I’ll call it anthem for short) from thisisnotawebsitedotcom:

TWO DIMENSIONS TWO AND FRO YOU ALWAYS (K)NOW WHICH WAY TO GO IF YOURE LOST DONT BE AFRAID IN EUCLYDIA YOU’VE GOT IT MADE RUN TOO FAR TOO RIGHT OF FRAME YOU’LL APPEAR ON LEFT AGAIN JUMP TOO HIGH DON’T CRY OR FRET YOU’LL POP UP FROM THE GROUND I BET IN THIS SPACE THERE IS NO FEAR LOVED ONES WILL BE EVER NEAR ROLES AND RULES ALWAYS CLEAR EUCLYDIA WE HOLD YOU DEAR

Euclydia is an enclosed space, with no above or below. And even if you go too far on the left, you will reappear on the right. A bit like a rolled tube, you know? So the place is flat, but also rounded the only way something 2D can: by being a tube.

And yes, the anthem makes it very clear that there is no above or below, because if you jump you will just pop up from the ground.

Now, I know Flatland is the quintessential of an oppressive world, but my god if this world doesn’t sound like a goddamn cage. You cannot run away, because you will still reappear on the other side. You cannot go higher, because you will just reappear in the same spot. I believe Bill when he said to Ford: “You think those chains are tight? Imagine living in the second dimension”. I felt chained just by reading those lines!

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A world based on regularity

Let’s analyze more of this anthem:

-> “Loved ones are always near” implies that this dimension values family. But consider that Flatland values family too:

It is a Law of Nature with us that a male child shall have one more side than his father, so that each generation shall rise (as a rule) one step in the scale of development and nobility (...) But this rule applies not always to the Tradesmen (aka Equilaterals), and still less often to the Soldiers (aka Isosceles) (...)

Family is the foundation of the Flatland society. Is it the same for Euclydia? I suppose so. Even if the emphasis on how your loved ones are “always” near, also emphasizes the “cage-y” feeling I had before. But maybe it’s just me.

-> “Roles and rules always clear”: ah yes, this really sounds like Flatland. A place where everyone has a role already established at birth and should follow the same rules.

How can I be so sure? Bill himself said it:

Where I come from, everyone just followed whatever meaning was handed down to them (...) I learned from an early age that if I was going to make anything of myself, I was going to need to figure out my own meaning. (TBOB, “Meaning of life” pages)

Just like in Flatland, everyone already has a role. Bill probably had a role too already planned for him. And if this world follows the same social order as Flatland, that means Bill, by being a member of the Equilateral class, was supposed to be a Tradesman.

Honestly? I’ve always loved that. The idea that, even if Bill talks so much about making his own meaning and tries so hard to escape from his world’s mentality, something of that mentality latched onto him. And what he learned about becoming a Tradesman was never forgotten. On the contrary: it became part of who he is now. One of the few things of his dimension he still carries within.

In a way, I think it’s even more meaningful than just carrying physical elements from his dimension. Sure, that’s beautiful and heartbreaking and it makes me go wild… but the fact he kept something from that mentality too, of his own, native, forever lost culture… it’s even more impactful, isn’t it? It emphasizes even more how Bill is the lone survivor of Euclydia.

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Social classes for regular shapes

We don’t have any information regarding the social structure of Euclydia, except what Bill said. And Bill was adamant about:

how oppressive his world was (“everyone followed whatever meaning was handed down to them”)

how dull his world was (“Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams”)

how regular he is

And the last point in particular is something he even mentioned among his powers in TBOB: 

My three internal angles always add up to 180 degrees. Quit staring at my hypotenuse, you freak!

So Bill is a regular Equilateral triangle and he specifies it all the time. Also, when everyone tries to measure his hypotenuse, he gets offended, as if they’re insulting his regularity.

Sooo… well, I’m not saying that this is a proof, but it also hints that regularity was considered important in his dimension. Questioning someone’s hypotenuse sounds a bit like asking a guy to check if he has a dick or a woman for her breast size or a person in general for how tall they are.

And I know it sounds stupid for us, but let’s not forget what else Bill said about his world in the AMA on Reddit years ago:

MY DIMENSION HAS 14 BILLION DIFFERENT GENDERS. ITS VERY CONFUSING.

So in a world with all these genders, I suppose that even asking something like “how long is your side” is a bit like questioning their own gender identity - and maybe, also questioning their role in the world, their social class and who knows what else.

Also: we can be sure that there were schools. Now, we don’t know if the schools were open to everyone or divided by shapes, because Bill just talks about “kids in grade school” so… were they all Triangles? Or were they of all shapes? And what did they learn? General knowledge? Knowledge related to their job/role in society?

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About Irregulars

I am pretty sure there was some degree of ostracization towards Irregulars. And I have two reasons for that.

First: this passage from Bill about his past

“I wasn’t just smarter than all the dull trapezoids and rhombuses sucking up my rightful oxygen”

The grin I had, while reading this. The HUGE grin.

Maybe it’s just a huge coincidence. Maybe it’s a coincidence that Bill mentioned trapezoids and rhombuses (aka irregulars) as the shapes that suck up his oxygen. And maybe it’s a coincidence that it’s not just his oxygen, but his rightful oxygen, as if he has more rights on it compared to them.

But if you read Flatland (or the previous post), you can see the parallel being (subtly) slapped in your face.

And this makes me love EVERYTHING even more! Because Bill, for the first time, is acting exactly like a Regular shape would act, while talking about Irregulars in a world dominated by Regularity. It’s the kind of mentality only a closed, oppressive world can leave on someone.

And again, I like it, because it would be another detail of Bill’s native culture that stuck with him. Another small part of that lost world he still carries within - no matter how silly it sounds to us.

Second: a code in the fake book covers page, that is translated as IRREGULAR.

As we know from the Flatland section, Flatlanders saw Irregulars as criminals with a skewed morality. And guess who is also a criminal with a skewed morality.

I find it extremely interesting how, even if Bill talked about the Irregulars from higher ground, he still ended up acting like them (according to Flatland’s society at least). He became a Tradesman and a criminal. He adopted the mentality of his world and a skewed one too.

In other words: Bill is a Regular… but he’s also an Irregular. And it’s not just me saying it, the book itself said it, by calling him Irregular!

But maybe, he’s not just Irregular because of his behavior… maybe he’s Irregular because of his rare mutation too.

Keep that in mind, we will talk about that in the Sight section.

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About colors

Euclydia has colors and we can be sure of that because:

Bill was already yellow at birth

There were other colors (like the ones in his shoes)

Euclydia’s codes are mostly in color

In art therapy, Bill draws “red and blue triangles”

So yes, Euclydia might be a bit like a cage, but at least it’s a colorful one.

Also, since Bill draws red and blue triangles, I love how the fandom almost collectively decided that the red one is Bill’s father and the blue one is Bill’s mother. It’s probably an unconscious association that led us to associate red -> anger -> lack of info about Bill’s father -> Bill’s father being a bad figure -> anger = bad -> Bill’s father is red. Understandable - and maybe even based on something true? Who knows?

But we will talk about Bill’s parents later (read: next post).

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About Recognition by Sight

Since Euclydia is a flat world dominated by color, I suppose that they didn’t use Recognition by Sight like Flatland and Exwhylia, but Recognition by Color.

And not only this would make the Euclidian world a bit more advanced compared to the previous two, but may also lead to the development of some form of writing.

Sure, the 2D vision is still a line, but making something with more lines of different colors and putting them together can be considered a rudimental form of writing. Just like we humans used hieroglyphics and images, the Euclideans might’ve used different colored lines to make a language - thus the codes we see associated with it.

But back to how they see: the way Euclidians can see is probably the same Flatlanders and Exwhylians can see. That means they cannot perceive full shapes like us, but lines - and identify these lines in different ways. In Flatland and Exwhylia by checking how quickly the edges were fading, in Euclydia by checking the color.

That also means all Euclidians have their eye on the side. In order to see in a 2D world, you need an eye on a 2D level. Therefore, an eye on the side.

That means Bill’s rare mutation was a mutation indeed, because instead of having an eye on the side like his parents and all others, he has an eye on the face of his triangular shape. Which, for us, would be like having an eye on the inside of your own body.

Now imagine: you are a 2D shape, you have a son, you check his perimeter (because it’s literally the only thing you can see)... and you find no eye. Not even an eye socket.

And yet, your son says he can see. He has an eye! But where is it?

I can definitely imagine the confusion of Bill’s parents. I can definitely imagine them running to the doctor and asking to identify where the eye is. And the doctor confirms there is an eye indeed…! But it’s inside him.

Now, for Bill that means having a vision no other shape can have. He’s able to see above, a direction impossible to understand by others. He can see a whole new world - and he can only see his own with the lateral view.

His parents were probably devastated by this, but Bill found in his oddity a reason to be more prideful. To deem himself smarter and better than others.

Mmmmh, this reminds me of someone…

“I was born strange, I am attracted to the strange and the strange has always been attracted to me.” (Journal 3)

Jeez, I wonder who else deemed himself as strange because of a “birth defect” and so clever and definitely destined to do big things and to become a hero. I bet it’s not another “freak” who is different but special.

But there is still time before talking about Billford.

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Aaaaand that’s all for now! This post is just about Euclydia as the whole place, in the next post we will be more specific and go deeper, by starting with the most intriguing topic: Bill’s family.

Next post ->

(How about a coffee? ☕)

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