#expanding your mind

[i-am-theseeker]

December 16, 2024 Nothern Hemisphere’s Current Moon Phase

The Moon’s current phase for today and tonight is a First Quarter phase. This phase occurs roughly 7 days after the New Moon when the moon is one quarter of the way through its orbit around the earth. Exactly half the moon will be illuminated and half dark. On the day of the First Quarter phase the moon is […] December 16, 2024 Nothern Hemisphere’s Current Moon Phase

[itsawritblr]

[omniiartscreativehaven]

Beyond The Surface: Understanding The Earth's Heartbeat & Its Impact On Our Souls Symphony

B

In a world brimming with scientific wonders, few phenomena are as captivating & enigmatic as the Schumann Resonance. Often referred to as the Earth’s heartbeat, this mysterious frequency has intrigued scientists & spiritual thinkers alike. But what exactly is the Schumann Resonance, & what role does it play in shaping our emotional landscape? In this article, we will embark on a journey of…

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[rozencraft]

my first video is LIVE.

We're doing MATH today!

Go to the place - youtube.com/@FilterRoze - and do your homework!

3.7.23

[universetalkz]

The ego has a negativity bias-

“It tends to focus on what is missing rather than celebrating what you already have. When we do not understand this nature of the ego mind we are always hungry for more, never truly enjoying what we have already accomplished. Learn to appreciate where you are and through that you will snap out of the ego’s grip. Seeking more without focusing on what you already have will always leave you feeling like you have nothing. Always be grateful.”

~Pawan Nair | The Higher Self

[matt0044]

Regarding the "Does RWBY like women?" poll (yes, yes it does BTW).

You know... the whole poll debacle reminded me of something.

RWBY helped me expand my media diet by telling me that just because people hate something enmass, it could just all be bullshit coupled with mob mentality.

Instead of hatedoms getting me to think:

"Damn, I don't even wanna be associated with that show based on the rage it inspires."

My more skeptical brain is like:

"Okay, so why is it reeeeeeeally hated? Is it reeeeeeeally bad or are people going along with the crowd because critical thinking is too much of a burden in this capitalist hellscape?"

Because bad media literacy is in part a result of the fact that most geeks and normies alike aren't out to be legit critics but rather just want to enjoy the thing, gush about the thing and so forth. They can't exactly articulate their reasonings why like they're trying to get an A+ in Therapy Studies.

And THAT is how the YouTube Video Essay and Angry Critic scene takes off.

We dunk on the Nostalgia Critic (often for VERY real IRL grievances) but his catchphrase: "I remember it so you don't have to" is something many who'd come after would take to heart. These video maker people are taking about a thing you like and are explaining it in a way you not only agree with but makes you feel vindicated.

Be it for love... or for hate.

Because hatedom circles like the RWDE looks to video essays that reassure them, keep them from doubting their stance on the thing and how they enforce it.

With the burden of actually seeing the thing and thinking hard taken off of them, people can confidently say things like "RWBY prioritizes Jaune" despite not looking at any potential evidence in the show that might contridice it.

Which is why this is a call for everyone to question the popular opinions.

Does Jaune Arc reeeeeeally get that much narrative importance at the expense of the main girls?

Was Jaune reeeeeeeally a self-insert?

Was Ironwood reaaaaaally derailed in his character arc?

Was Adam reeeeeeeeally representative of the Faunus?

Was the Faunus reaaaaaally offensive?

And of course...

Was Monty Oum reeeeeeeeally the only one who's vision matter to the show above all else?

Ask yourself these questions and do the work to back them up. If people are giving you responses that contridict you, responses that take evidence from the work itself more often than not, then try to do the same in turn.

Think about that show or movie being panned? What if... you actually like it?

Not everybody is a critic... but we can at least try to.

[dumbfucksystem]

thinking about mafia shen family au. the system is fucking around with shen qingqius life again and is like yk what if ur not gonna tell your husband anything about yourself then ill force you to. have fun! :D

sqq doesn’t even have the time to think 'wtfff??' before Everything Happens. shen yuan’s soul gets shoved back into his original body just moments before he dies. in this version of the au he was choking on food, so he gets the lovely experience of having his airflow blocked again! lucky for him, the system dragged binghe along for the ride so he is saved before he dies again.

this route for mafia au means that the shen family never had to grieve shen yuan. im not sure how the Family reacts to their a-yuan suddenly having a very strong and intimidating significant other (boyfriend? husband?!??? wdym he got married without telling us!?!?) all of a sudden. does shen yuan come out to his family?? no, but also yes, but also not really. they knew he wasn't straight this entire time, so its more like they are coming out to him instead of the other way around. god knows they have bigger skeletons in their closets, they don't care if a twink is in there too.

there is less angst here, and it mostly centers around the comedic factor of shen yuan showing binghe around his house only for them to "stumble upon" an entire closet filled with guns..!?! shen yuan is just standing there in complete horror as binghe grabs a whole ass ar-15!?!?? hes looking at him with the most innocent eyes asking him what this strange metal object is. jesus fucking christ. his white lotus is holding a gun and now he has to explain gun control policies while his brain is leaking out of his ears. he opens his mouth right before an alarm starts blaring everywhere. he’s saved by the bell! except not really, because now six members of his Family are surrounding them and pointing several guns at binghe!!!!! what the actual fuck is going on here!!!!!! this is not how the 'meet the parents' arc is supposed to go!!

[beastsovrevelation]

Captured Angel

Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader

Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia

“Good, you’re awake.”

A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.   

“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.

Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.

“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”

You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.  

“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He glanced down at your heaving chest.

“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”

You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.

“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.   

“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”

You snarled, attempting to pull away.

“Get your putrid hands off me!”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”

“Vile creature...” you spat.

He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles   had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.

Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.

You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.

He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.

He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.

It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”

He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.

“Speak up, angel” he demanded.

Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.

“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”

Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.

“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.

He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.

Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.

Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.

“Kiss me” you demanded.

He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.

“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.

“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.

“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”

He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.

“Michael!”

“Good girl” he praised with a grin.

Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.

“Michael...” you moaned.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation  you had ever experienced.

You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.

“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”

A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.

“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.

[espighty]

I've been thinking about what Kallamar does to stay busy post-usurp. With my canon, I can't make him the cult doctor, because he would just catch the things he's trying to treat and die. The compromise for that is that he's able to train new doctors and offer medical advice from the sidelines, away from the actual patients. He wouldn't need to do that full-time though, so what else would he do to avoid just rotting in bed all day?

I decided to give him a job that's in line with the hobby I gave him. The COTL world may not have invented the printing press yet, so they probably still spread books the old fashioned way. Why not have the guy who genuinely likes calligraphy do some book copying for the cult?

It's a low-stress activity. Even if he does make a mistake, there's always more paper, there's always more ink. The sun shines in through the window onto his desk and he feels like he's valued. Lamb always comes to pick up the books in person and Kallamar gets to chat with them for a bit, even if it's an otherwise busy day.

Anyway. I think it's worthwhile to have post-usurp Bishops branch out from their crown concepts and pursue different hobbies and skill sets. It's more real to me. They've been doing the same thing for 5 thousand years and they need some new enrichment.

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[personishfive]

in which ann takamaki is there

[omniiartscreativehaven]

Battle of the Oils: Which is Truly the Secret to Glowing Skin, is it One-Size Fits All? Let's Take a Closer Look at Some of the Most Well-Known Carrier Oils in Skincare.

Battle of the Oils: Which is Truly the Secret to Glowing Skin, is it One-Size Fits All? Let's Take a Closer Look at Some of the Most Well-Known Carrier Oils in Skincare.

In the quest for radiant & healthy skin, the beauty industry offers a wide array of skincare products, many of which boast the benefits of various carrier oils. Carrier oils, derived from plant sources, have gained popularity for their potential to nourish, hydrate, & revitalize the skin. But with so many options available, it can be challenging to determine which oil truly holds the key to…

[veriitasu]

More RRRR Magnus doodles!! <3 Totally out of chronological order, but I have been fleshing their story more and more ♥ God I love this mod so much!! (also updated profile!!)

[goodmorninglovelies42]

Being an ot3 shipper today is like being in the middle of a battlefield between RoyKeeley and RoyJamie shippers. Guys, we don’t need to fight! We can have it ALL.