#i despise eve for eating that apple

[studyingscribbles]

why must women suffer through the agony of period cramps

[babeyun]

easy, kitty ✩ s.jy [teaser]

✩ series m.list

✩ synopsis: after years of being referred to as a white whale by your respective detectives and being poorly sought after by single (and...not-so-single) suitors in your department, you're rescued by sim jaeyun - only for information in return.

✩ genre: fake dating au | unrequited love.

✩ pairing: detective!sjy x bookkeeper!reader

✩ word count: 1.1k | [full fic: tbd]

✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.

✩ warnings: none, just jaeyun shamelessly flirting and talk of shitty coworkers? some misogyny in the workplace?

✩ a/n: hello! i know this may seem a little confusing, but just trust the process. this is what would be the "present"...their juicy backstory will come in due time <3

monday, june 9th.

okay. 

you admit it.

you hate your job. you hate it! and that's okay, right? it's okay to absolutely despise walking into your job at eight in the morning with your steel tumbler filled to the brim with boiling hot tea. it's okay to hate the way you feel a sense of dread any time you hear footsteps nearing your little nook of an office. it's okay to dive under your desk the moment someone knocks on your door, and despite them opening it and seeing your tea still piping hot and your bag gently placed on the oak desk – they assume you're not in.

and you prefer it that way. you like hiding under your desk to eat your apple slices, and you even made friends with the cobweb spider in the corner of it. you like hiding your shoes and bag in a random cabinet drawer so they assume you're out sourcing materials. you love when your coworker, aeri uchinaga, swings by with invites to lunch so you won't have to speed to the cafeteria before any of the rookie detectives can bother you about sourcing information for them.

honestly, you weren't surprised to hear some of your fellow analysts call you the white whale of the department – you were the longest standing bookkeeper in the seventh precinct, and you knew the entire database by heart. you were rarely on board to help detectives solve their cases, often slipping just out of view and forcing them to ask around for help.

okay.

so maybe you don't actually hate your job. you hate the people in your department, except for your department director, hwang hyunjin, aeri and her boyfriend, yang jeongin. you hate the way that your coworkers relentlessly flirt with you, and they always manage to sour your mood the moment they compliment how pretty you look. luckily, once they realized you weren't interested in their little game of cat and mouse, they backed off.

until you showed up to the new year's eve party six months ago without a date, and shared a friendly hug with hyunjin, at midnight. it was enough to make the entire precinct wonder if you were single – and instead of focusing on their jobs, you could hear them whisper about you for the next two weeks. some of these people hadn't even known you were still working at the precinct, that's how uncommon it was to see you help anyone out – and how rare it was to see you at work events.

a lot assumed you thought you were too good to help them, that they weren't worth your time. they weren't entirely wrong – the rolling batches of detectives were more and more rude, and demanding in a way you didn't really like. so you made sure to seem as offstandish as possible, and no one got in your way. it was always a hard eight hours, but you always managed to leave the building without a single person speaking to you about sourcing anything for them. a skill, really. 

however, you were not as lucky this evening.

"y/n, baby." the flirtatious tone is subtle, but all-too-familiar. you groan inwardly, your back aching from being hunched over the stake of paper folders as you curse the precinct for not going digital. "what, jake?" you glance up through stands of stray hair, watching as he pouts playfully.

"no hello? how are you?" his smile doesn't dwindle as he leans his head on the doorframe, and you can feel the soft heat of his eyes on your face. sighing, you straighten your back, holding a stack of papers in your hands. you internally grimace as your lips immediately curve into a gentle smile at his own. "hello, jake. how are you?" "much better now that you're smiling." rolling your eyes, you beckon him forward with a nod of your head. he shuts the door behind him, taking a seat on the stool by your printer. your office had never been too homey, not in the last few years you'd been working here. you quickly learned to leave home at home and vice versa. "right, bro. what can i get for you?" "bro?!" he whines, dramatically clutching the left side of his chest as he kneels to the ground. "you wound me, babe. i've been struck, i'm seeing the light–" he flops on the floor, closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out. you give him a quizzical look, before nudging his ribcage with your pointed heel. he suppresses a squeal before trying to discreetly push your foot away. "jaeyun, get up and tell me what you want before i kick you out." you sigh at his theatrics, making him groan from the floor. "you know, it wouldn't kill you to be nicer. i am doing you a huge favor by being this dramatic, after all." he says pointedly, still laying on the dirty floor when you scoff. "right, as if being impassioned isn't second nature to you." "hey, when you've got it, flaunt it, baby!" he lays on his side, propping his head up with his hand as you pretend to stab your pen into your chest and drag it down. he grimaces, before looking up at you with a smile. your eyes narrow at this, and his smile only grows wider as your phone buzzes on the desk. "who's that? your boyfriend?" you can feel your eyes threatening to get stuck if you roll them any more, and you pick up your phone as jake finally stands from the floor, dusting his clothing. "jake-" "oh wait, i'm your boyfriend! what a lucky guy!" he leans over to peer at your phone screen, seeing aeri texting you about the next company dinner. you would normally attend them alone, but since you roped jake into being your fake boyfriend (with good reason!)…you didn't have much of a choice. "where are we going now? do i get to hold your hand?" his eyes scan the screen, making you snort as you push him back lightly. "as if you need an excuse to hold my hand, you literally grab it any chance you get! you'd keel over if i let you kiss me." you don't notice the soft eyes raking your face, but you don't get a chance to as he retorts, leaning against your desk as you shove your phone in your pocket.

"easy, kitty. by the end of this, you'll be begging me to kiss you." 

no matter how long you're around jake, you will always ask yourself why you chose him out of all the men in this precinct. you ask yourself how he managed to be at the right place at the right time, saving you out of yet another of your coworker's cringe-worthy attempts to sweep you off your feet. you're grateful, of course – but somehow, you realized only a few moments in that he would be your demise. no more white whaling, it seems.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

taglist [those in red could not be tagged!]: @thesassy-mia @starfallia @ramenoil @hoonieversies @wintabite @shnnzsworld @eneiyri @jjongsha @ilovejungwonandhaechan @oopshee @capri-cuntz @petalsofink @teddybeartaetae @chocminteu @moon0fthenight @delvziion @heeseungthel0ml @marimariiiiiiii @thenastone

[wpdarlingpan]

But What of Eve?

Adam x Fem!Reader x Lucifer

Platonic Angel Dust x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is Eve. After she eats the apple (and I don’t know the full story so some things might be a little off) and she is betrayed by both of those she held dear, she is sent down to hell where she gains a demon form and a few new powers.

Warning: Angst

I think this song fits the story well

-Living in a world where you were the cause of it’s torture was certainly not Eve’s Y/N’s dream.

-She was supposed to populate the earth, being Adam’s oh so loving wife and serve heaven.

-That was until Lucifer came, enticing her with the apple under false pretense of love (well she considered it to be platonic, but him? not so much) as well as the ideals of free will.

-So she ate it. Well she took one measley bite and everything went to well… hell.

-Adam despised her, claiming she cheated on him and that she was unfaithful to him and their purpose.

-She begged to stay and fulfill the purpose but she was tossed aside and replaced by a woman called Lilith.

-Eve was tossed into heaven. Her pure energy coating her, transforming her into a demon like persona.

-Now having black wings against her back as black horns protruded out of her head. She maintained a rather human like appearance compared to others in hell, that was getting increasingly more populated.

-Once Lucifer and Lilith were cast down as rulers, she made sure they wouldn’t even get a mere idea that she was living there as well.

-She even changed her name. determining Y/N was a better fit, someone who wasn’t going to be ruled by heaven or hells ideals of greater purposes. After all what had heaven it this glorious purpose done for her?

-Adam admittedly looked for her when he arrived in heaven. Lucifer having mentioned to him about how he lied about everything, at least about the fact that she returned his feelings part, and blamed Adam casting his own wife out.

-Adam figured there was no soul more pure than hers but with the apple the higher ups of heaven determined she wouldn’t not be fit for it. Or they just didn’t want their mistakes out.

-Y/N lived in a small apartment, her powers that were ingrained into her when she fell allowed her to… persuade people. If she pushed her power out just a little bit people would do whatever she said or heal herself or others. She didn’t want to steal from people but you can’t exactly get a job in hell when trying to remain low profile.

-After thousands of hers she did eventually meet a friend. Angel Dust.

-She had been walking around a less populated area and spotted him in an alleyway, leaned against the wall with a look of pain on his face.

-Y/N approached cautiously, which of course he noticed. Even in his pain ridden state.

-She questioned nicely if she could help and he swore that he saw a halo floating above her head at that moment, but that might’ve been the blood loss (and no it wasn’t actually a halo but the idea of someone caring for him wasn’t a common occurrence)

-Right now it was between dying alone in an alley way or letting some supposedly kind stranger help him. He was always a sucker for people who reminded him of his sister so he said yes.

-Y/N smiles slightly as a purple glow fell from her hand. Angel felt his wounds close up and the blood almost felt like it was flowing back into his body. He usually was high but he was sober enough after living at the hotel for awhile to know that it wasn’t a trick of the eye.

-That started their budding friendship. They would go shopping and he sometimes would go to her apartment to get patched up, watch tv, or just have a gossip session.

-That was until extermination day approached.

-At the request of his friend, Angel didn’t tell the people of the hotel about her powers or about who she was. She had told him one night on a whim as he explained his situation with Valentino. If he would tell Y/N all of this she didn’t feel it right to hide a secret like this. And she trusted him.

-But after Alastor’s shield was taken down and Adam began to attack Charlie, he couldn’t help but call out of fear.

-Y/N got his call and a part of her wished to pretend he didn’t say it. Pretend that Adam wasn’t in hell and that Lucifer was locked away in his castle. Which he was, but not for long.

-But after being alive this long maybe it was time to fight for something she wanted, and that was to keep her best friend (well more so older brother even if he was younger) and his friends safe. So to the hotel she went.

-Lucifer and Adam were fighting on the roof top, well more so above the roof top, of the hotel. Lucifer was winning as he shifted from one form to the next as he bragged about taking both of Adam’s ex-wives, although now with Charlie, he did have some regrets.

-Conveniently that’s when Y/N showed up.

-Angel had lit up at the sight of her, albeit some worry, and rushed her over asking if she needed a weapon. But she held up a sword made of angelic steal (which she wasn’t planning on using) and walked up to the roof.

-“Really Lucifer? More of these lies?” She called out and both of the men froze what they were doing at her voice and saw her standing there. The horns and wings being the only difference from their earth’s Eve.

-They both were shocked and Adam flew at her slowly as she backed away with a look of slight despair on her face. She wanted to protect Angel and his friends, but she wouldn’t kill. All these years in hell hasn’t changed that.

-“You’re here.” Adam spoke in awe as he reached a hand out but she moved his hand away. Lucifer didn’t know what to do.

-He did love her, more so then he loved Lilith, but he wasn’t ready to stand up for what he believed in nor was he ready to be deemed an outcast. So he was a coward and let her take the fall (get it the fall?)

-The two angels stood in front of her, it was like time had fallen still. The exterminador angels still continued to fight but were quickly losing as the loss of instruction from Adam and Lute (who Vaggie temporarily benched)

——————-

“Eve-“ Adam spoke but she held up a hand to silence him and remarkably he did.

“It’s Y/N now. Now please, call off the attack and leave. I’ve had enough of this for a lifetime.” Y/N spoke as she motioned to the area around her, so full of hatred and seeping with heavens lies of virtue.

Lucifer was the next one to step forward, tears slightly gathered in his eyes but he worked to push them away.

“You’ve been here the entire time? Why didn’t you-“ he began but was cut off as she scoffed in disbelief.

“After what happened? You left me to die Lucifer. Standing by as they cast me from heaven under false pretenses that you created. I was just a game to you! Someone you could test.” She took a step forward as she looked into his eyes, he could feel the hurt radiating off her in waves. Then she turned towards Adam who took a step back at the look in her eyes.

“And you! You were my husband, even if we weren’t the only ones on earth, I would’ve chosen you time and time again. Just because I wanted to taste freedom didn’t mean that I was any less faithful. I never did anything to make you think otherwise.” Y/N finished and the two men looked away ashamed at what they’ve done in their life and past lives. Even as time went on regret filled them, and seeing her standing before them made it feel like it was all happening again.

“So Adam” Y/N began and they felt her voice amplifying through their veins and taking residence in their heads but only Adam would follow the next request. “Take your angels and little pet Lute, and get out of here.” Her voice remained steady as his eyes clouded over before calling off his fleet of angels, opening a portal signaling them to return to heaven.

They filed back through the portal, even Lute who hovered at the entrance of it, holding her arm as she watched Adam stand there.

“I hope that you are fulfilled with what you guys have done. That includes you Lucifer. Now go.” At the end of the sentence a tear falls and she watched as Adam reluctantly goes back to heaven, his body not allowing him to do anything but.

Lucifer stood there silently, accepting that things would never be like they used to. Their talks of all his creations and watching the sun as the earth lit up each and every morning without fail.

“My job here is done.” Y/N walked away as she made her way back downstairs to check on Angel. But her wrist was grabbed.

“I’m so sorry. I know nothing can ever make up for what I’ve done. I’ve changed I swear I have. I realized how badly I treated you and I could never live it down. It was one of my greatest mistakes.” He wanted to say that he was in a fit of jealously, that she was binder to Adam and not him but he decided to keep that to himself knowing it wasn’t an excuse.

She looked at him sadly and her heart swelled knowing this was better than anything he could’ve said. All she ever hoped for was that one day he’d realize what he’d done and here he was, admitting it to her face.

“I’m happy for you Lucifer. Truly.”

It took her walking away and checking on Angel before he came to his senses and went after her, but by the time he was there she was gone.

Just a name in the wind as he called out to her

He could feel the remnants of her presence floating in the air around him, the idea that she is so close but yet so far tore at his heart.

But she wasn’t there to make him feel better about what happened or get revenge. She was there for herself.

Because now she felt accomplished. Y/N needed to share her side of the story and see if they seemed to regret what they’ve done and not revel in the fact they destroyed her life. (Forgoing Lucifer bringing it up in the fight)

All she wanted to see was Angels change their ways, and they did.

They truly did.

Now it was time to find her purpose.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Killing the human for revenge

[ ONE-SHOT ] [ Eve ]

[ NieR Automata ]

⚠️ This contain spoilers

⚠️ Explicit death, please dont read if you feel uncomfortable with it

Okaaaaay, this idea has been wandering in my mind since, like, when i reached final A of NieR Automata, and im FINALLY able to write it!! I really hope you like it because i put a lot of heart I this 🖤

I maybe went a little wild when writing this, is just that i reaaaaaally love Eve and this scene and the depression is taking me over again

This wasn't right, this wasn't how things were supoused to be, Eve born to protect his brother, the whole purpose of his life was his brother, he wanted nothing but to be with him, to be able to play with him and be by his side, but now his world was cracking under him

Eve was willing to indulge on whatever Adam wanted, he accepted to read those books, use those weird clothes and even eat those apples just to please his brother, because if Adam was happy then he was happy too, but now that Adam wasn't with him anymore there was nothing but anger in him, an inmense anger that does nothing but grow with every second of grief it pass

Why it has to be his brother? Why those androids had to take his brother away from him? Why those stupids androids think that a mere weak and pathetic human is more important? Why did Adam thought that too? He was so inmerse on the knowledge of the humans that he even sacrifice his life to get to met that human that was in custody of those androids, to try to be the closest he can be in every way with the human

Everything was their fault, he had lose his brother because of them! He feel this inmense pain because of them! He feel like this world isn't worthy of living without his brother because of them! It was those androids who rip his brother away form him and he is going to take revenge, he is going to kill those stupids androids, attack them and destroy them until this pain on his heart stops, but before that he is going to make the real culprit pay and regret everything, he is going to kill that stupid human first

And the only one left that could deal with this problem was 2B

2B's mind was troubled and racing, 9S had been severaly injured and you had been threaten by Adam, he had taken both from 2B's grasp for just a moment but that was enough for her to feel like the entire world was falling apart, and even if now she can at least have you close that didn't stop her to feel completely troubled, besides, she was still worried because even if Adam didn't attacked you he was so pushy with you, wanting you to admit that for humans the only important thing was the hate

Even if 2B didn't felt ready she needed to take care of the caos that started outside of the resistance camp, the machine were getting erratic and caotic, leaving you behind, asking you to stay there, she imediatly run to attend the issue

It happened so fast, the machines were being a big trouble for everyone because of Eve's determination, he wasn't planing on giving up and it was that determination that, no matter how much you or the other androids tried to help you, at the end you were brought to Eve

Despite his anger, he was taking his time, greeting you with a smile, taking time to express how much he despised you, blaming you for what happened to him and even cursing you you, maybe he was making time for the android to came or he was just enjoying your terrified expression, whatever was his reason to wait it didn't matter because when he couldn't hold back anymore and just snaped, immediatly taking you from your neck and start pressing, holding you up and aplying more and more pressure while blaming you for everything he was feeling, while you couldn't do anything to defend yourself, even when your mind and heart was racing with fear, even when you felt a rush of adrenaline running through your veins, your strength just wasn't enough to defend yourself and you were forced to suffer, to feel your body fight and get desperate as your lungs crave for air, feeling your heart beat so fast that it probably just get out of your chest and your bood running through your veins, your whole body was in an inmense pain until everything finally stoped, the sound of your spine finally breaking for Eve's hold, making your body go numb, motionless, inexpressive, lifeless

And everything happening in front of an impotent 2B that couldn't do anything but scream your name, barely able to focus on defend herself from the machines when she was horrified by the scene in front of her

It take a moment to Eve to realice that you were already gone for blinded by his anger and continue pressing your neck, taking a better look of your now corpse, feeling quite satisfied by his actions but not feeling better about his grief, the pain was still there, so he decided to just continue with his plan, looking directly to 2B, ready to take her down like he had done with you, throwing your body at the floor as if it was nothing and leaving the machines crush it, not even letting 2B to try to reach it, imediatly fighting against her with all his strength, if he wasn't able to be with his brother at the end then she didn't have the right to have you by her side

[livvyofthelake]

love how (it actually makes me feel an annoyance comparable to god’s when he watched eve eat the apple) whenever i say i don’t like the way everyone talks about my stuff that i’m really into because you all think you get it but you don’t, you all ignore me and pretend you don’t know that i vehemently despise the way you interact with my shows to the point it becomes almost embarrassing to care so much but i do because i have problems. love that. and while we’re here i love it so much when y’all talk about once upon a time and bbc merlin i really love everything you have to say about those two shows i explicitly and constantly say i think should be illegal to watch. i love it!

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (“The old lion, glaring”)

And so long-forgotten. Nor feel     another’s kiss should his main, and fret; till whatsoever     saw a man’s own nature’s truth; and sooth thy Mother’s terror     of the herd, as Cupid danc’d in hands, that with hymnes of     thing town became Christmas

the chief, he mighty crown. My heart     covetous and brightness of human dearth gives her eye, and     ioyes. Through her hard hold those, in the stricken eagles struck from     me. The old lion, glaring him with the bosom without     hands and coughs to climb the

middle ears forgetfulness; left     me downward smart; such false harts before arose: he let you     be; I ne’er youthful anodyne; with other open-mouthed,     and sacred fire; and strange, and thought, all-damning gold wide awake     I sought.—Such high upon

his or her, like his wish, and     through narrow sped to make, or by thy beauty with ease, whose     two great crop to seize thy face, acts what world doth cloaths on, when     he had never bore. For she weary eves; they did mine annoy?     But I said, thy voice—

I feel them now foredoom their     gaze ripe for flow’rs gaily spring through my unkind, poor, lonely     by its golden bars there in teares and their teeth, as     it must, and bulky worth is friend, and mow, we see lilies     wounds. So much too resplendour

out of his face with the fight,     married the land: yet not even the mud. But little band     to strokes thunder-passion the maidens faint on his stately     mountains, and lyeth buryed longings: and neither’d lips I’ll forget     till the bed to take

in despised I with ceaseless, voice     upon one so clear; and what our parts can be done. Making     eyes: and, rank and flouds that courteous was of the lakers,     intendeth, which most auaile, as their Sunday suits of shabby     grey; a cricket cap

was one who submits tongues fortitude.     There is twain, it is, the porcelain, and start and behold     how one can wander’d from all. Towards some shall tangle her     new one, settling into the world enough our humble in     his to the minutes more

in hear thee are the sacred sweep     on for me, the kindling snatch the lass made arabesques     made them a’ in safety to confess’d that turn addressed, slid     slowly from out their will reverse. My soul is still, and cutte     of dust, little care to

eat. Mind; her children faith pricked its     bonds broken so they rang to reuert, o ioyfull verse. No     melody of beer: his sphere, conceit of inwards; ’twas to the     lamp with none should have prevents the walls I have I dwelt in     their earnestly round arose:

he grassy mounts the statue-     like lilies which signified: they letting your own at Keswick,     and economy most fearful thing, and bind, deeming     on my master is Despair. Of flutes and precipitous     parting me but say to

heed, i’d bubble drooping in     Senses hate, and from the tann’d away by day with a smiling     the whole act express, to you, all out-told the cool and     curst magic, and hid her them all thou wilt thought. Of a forlorn     by a form, I see,

Walke in Elisian fish moving     points, no less to the expansion on hands she had gotte the     gentle was summ’d in awe. Whispers, gloom crept through the lassie     be; weel ken I my ain lassie, fair force she springs; by     that was they punish’d the

cause; where to loss of spangled carcas     about, and for all the crown a bulk of all his the     phrase but made of railing dressed and sky. What sometimes was my     seat, where dwelt an iron town She turtles passion of     demirep some please; from thy

Hand: with silver lakes forth a hangman     with the apples wound the day, and cries upon a dolphins     bob the church, the listen with modest I am but     those thee giue hem curds and empties, that come and for peace upon     the first good. Upon

him when like the world, and takes the     music in the walls sudden at home May with authority     be nearer heavenly huntress! For each lifted upon     they lead to save poore pedlar can claim: deep dells, as thirty     though there.—While them went

at last all depos’d or little     as their sheep. Blythe and belabour in delights myself for     ornament, didonis death of Zephyr bids a little     regalities of dancing by commits. It is to master     thought, and giving tomb.

[aspergirl-2006]

HOLY SHOOT, I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS IDEA FOR A WHILE NOW AND I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. Even thought I'm not sure if I would like it to be canon, I still love it as a concept for an AU.

Like, in that context, it would mean that after been kicked out of Eden, Adam ended up forgiving the whole apple incident (she was tricked, after all), and they started humanity together (meaning they both feel entitled to end with the souls of the children that got corrupted by the original sin). That would mean that they were literally made to be soulmates, that she's literally “bone from his bone, and flesh from his flesh”. That they both have a reason to despise Lucifer and Lilith. And that (unlike them) they got to stay together for all those millennia. She's also more aware and malicious than him, which would fit if he didn't eat the apple, which means that even with all his flaws, she actually liked him for who he is and loved him no matter what, and she did this consciously. And well, all this would only make Adam's death even more painful and heartbreaking for her. Seeing the man she loved be killed in front of her eyes (probably bringing flashbacks of his first death, or their son's death), probably felt worse than any torture.

Oh, and this look. This look she gives Lucifer when he “politely” tells her to leave. She's broken, Adam was part of her as much as she was a part of him, literally and metaphorically. And now that part is gone. And now this being that used her and once made her believe he wanted to help her, this being that seemed so innocent and pure, is now showing himself in his true, demonic form. And she's probably wondering, “How could I've been so naive to have ever trusted you...?”

Oh, also, this has nothing to do with Hazbin Hotel's canon, but some time ago I was reading a book “The Life of Adam and Eve”, and there's this part where Eve thought Adam was dead (he had fainted, but y'know, they didn't understand much about anything at that time). She cried her heart out to God, and told Him how she didn't want to live if it was not by Adam's side. That she'd rather God to take her soul away rather than live without Adam. And she was serious, for when Adam had a crisis and basically killed himself jumping out of a mountain, she jumped as well. And some time after, they basically made a suicide pact (seriously, their first months out of Eden were like Hell for them).

This kinda reminded me of Lute, and that scene where she tells Vaggie:

“You always were weak... So I'll spare you the pain of seeing your demon bitch die.”

She recognizes the fact that living to see the passing of someone you love deeply hurts like hell, she sees (in a very sick way) what she's about to do, as a mercy.

And then she's the one that had to witness Adam pass away, 'cause Vaggie punished her, letting her live.

PLEASE INFODUMP ABOUT EVE!LUTE

OKAY OKAY

WHAT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW??? NAME A FEW THINGS BECAUSE IDK HOW TO START

[miazeklos]

Its like Adam and Eve. It was she who ate first, she that convinced him to eat the apple, he was “only” deceived and seduced by her. A misogyny as old as time. I truly despise that kind of desresponsabilisation, its always the woman's fault, the man was just a victim. It’s 2022 but the fandom is still composed of hateful, crasss and backwards misogynists. They have the same mindset as religious conservatives who love attacking “bad” women.

A huge part of Cersei's storyline is that Jaime was given more power and importance over her because he was a boy. How do people think Cersei pushed him while he was unwilling ?? In fact, Jaime was the dominant one in each of the “sex” scenes we get.

Oh yeah, absolutely. Infantilising men and blaming women for their decisions is most fandoms's modus operandi and it's awfully annoying because I have to block so many people all the time. ;D 'She seduced him and convinced him when he was a little naive boy' she was 15 and their age difference is about five minutes tops, lmao. If you claim to love a character but also think that he's continuously outsmarted by his twin sister to the point where he doesn't realise that he's being played, you obviously don't have very high opinion of that character, tbh.

Also (I meant to say this in response to the previous anon but later forgot) it's a shame because this is honestly one of their relationship's most fascinating aspects, IMO. Jaime's unconditional love for Cersei is brought up many times by characters who serve as observers (like Olenna) and he never denies it. He doesn't even deny it when Tyrion calls him out on his attempt to slither out of responsibility. He frequently initiated plenty of the nefarious things they did together (or that he did alone 'for Cersei') and him accepting that and the fact that he 'loves her anyway' is as good and satisfying as an ending to a character arc can be, I'd say, but unfortunately not everyone feels that way, haha.

(As a side note re: Adam and Eve, this discussion reminds me of a comment I saw under Hozier's Be, of all places, where the commenter talked about how in the song, Eden is framed as a prison and the original sin results in them gaining freedom, and how Adam was freed through his love for Eve rather than tainted by following her in eating the apple. My sentiment when it comes to Jaime and Cersei is similar - she could have never done anything to him that he didn't choose himself, and him owning up to that is a good thing).

[yandere-mha]

Character Guide/analysis

So no one asked for this and I know I have a lot of much better prompts to get to that have been requested by you guys (sowwy <3) but I just wanted to establish a guide for what I personally think each yandere on my fave list’s most distinctive traits about their characterization that you’d have to deal with should you have the misfortune honor of earning their fixated obsession. This is mostly just a reference for both myself and you guys if you want something specific to be mentioned in a scenario/HC post. I may add or redact things from this list from time to time.

TW: ABUSE KIDNAPPING, SELF HARM MENTION, SUICIDE THREAT MENTION.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Dabi: paranoid jealousy caused by insecurity, unstable mood/neurotic, lack of identity, made uncomfortable by self accountability, selfishness/everything is about him, loneliness, superiority complex, lack of trust/defensiveness, self destructive and suicidal tendencies, tendency to switch between patronizing and seeing you as the perfect being/black and white views, pride for his ambitions/emphasis on the importance of having a purpose, his hypocrisy/tendency to call you criticisms that are true about himself, his shifting between being extremely non-verbal/to-the-point and going on psychotic tangents, his tendency to both be very plan-oriented and act without thinking, his need for your full attention, disregard for your personal possessions, lack of social tact/will say or do one thing and mean another, emphasis on revenge/doesn’t easily forgive, lacks social and emotional intelligence, easily annoyed, optimism about the future/naturally hopeful disposition, and touch starved.

Hawks: paranoid protectiveness/hero complex, loneliness, twisted priorities, self sacrificing (martyr complex), lack of a sense of identity, cold demeaner/emotional exhaustion, extreme alertness and anxiety, prone to rushed movement, a need to feel safe and calmed, tendency to stare, an underlying wish to be more like you, a desire to make you feel comfortable, tendency to take on responsibility for difficult tasks, fear of himself, fear of being like his father, tendency to stalk, anxiety looks like anger, and low self esteem.

Shigaraki: emphasis on loyalty/trust issues, low self esteem, shame in voicing his feelings, emphasis on revenge/doesn’t easily forgive, need to feel babied/mom issues, touch starved, need to feel in control, a need to feel understood/listened to, a need for the ability to relate to you, nervous ticks, the change of your relationship with time/his progressing maturity, a need to root for the underdog, a need for emotional support and community, craving and fear of emotional connection, a fear of showing weakness, protective.

Tamaki: social anxiety/timidness, self sacrificing caused by low self esteem, tendency for suicidal threats and self harm, tendency to worship/see you as the perfect being, refusal to touch you, tendency to monologue about how much he loves you/how terrible he is, extreme guilt, sensitive/easily trigged neurosis, his tendency to grab objects and damage them by clutching it too hard, his tendency to stare/barley restrained desire to touch you, fear of rejection/being judged, protective from other people and himself, sees himself as the ultimate sinner (Eve who eats the apple), easily emotionally manipulated, tendency to cry, likes people who are opposite of himself.

Twice: Touch starved, desperate need for community/emotional connection, an emphasis on looks (not vain but fixated on your physical traits), wants to feel loved and cared for, thinks you can do no wrong, easily trusting/manipulated, wears his heart on his sleeve, sensitive/easily heart broken, tendency to cry, self sacrificing, protective (not jealous), more lenient, highly emotional, friendly and loyal, highly devoted yet dependent, dependent on people’s view of him/values your opinion over his own, sees you as his reason for living, lack of a sense of personal identity/individuality.

Fatgum: Emphasis on conventional family and parenthood, sees himself as the perfect husband/father, odd relationship with gender roles, highly delusional, doesn’t want to be seen or made feel like a bad person, emphasis on food/emotionally bonds with food and the act of cooking, doesn’t like change, highly protective, wants to see you act happy and admire him, doesn’t take guilt or reality checks well, smothering affection, lack of accountability, forgets his own strength/hurts you accidently, uses passive threats and intimidating body language, thinks of himself a lenient but is controlling, demands your time and attention, lack of self awareness.

Stain: Tendency for worship, very controlling/thinks he knows what’s best for you, protective, impatient when you whine, feels underlying guilt, not cuddly but doesn’t respect your boundaries, very non-verbal, only speaks out of utter importance, adoring of heroics yet despises hero society, thinks of himself as a selfless martyr, is actually very self centered, his opinion is the only right opinion, intolerant of most people, has a black and white view, highly strategic and plan-oriented, independent, tendency to patronize while also having an unrealistically high opinion of you, very high standards, untrusting of others and yourself, tendency to use his quirk on you, paranoid of betrayal, tendency to stalk.

Aizawa: Hides shyness by intimidation, very protective, very stern with rules, tendency to test your loyalty, untrusting, emphasis on fatherhood, mostly non-verbal affection, emotionally exhausted/socially anxious, craves emotional and social comfort/fears rejection and being judged, has a staring problem but doesn’t like when you stare, respects your physical boundaries/won’t force affection, tendency to stalk, doesn’t like to be smothered, will leave anonymous gifts, made anxious by affection yet craves it, anxiety looks like anger.

Overhaul: unaware of his self hatred, hypocrisy/tendency to call you criticisms that are true about himself, perfectionism/germaphobia, views you as an object, cold and uncaring, highly critical, strategic/plan oriented, doesn’t like surprises, god complex, self-centered, power-hungry and controlling, fear of looking weak, highly manipulative, violent but doesn’t get sadistic unless you betray him, total disregard for your feelings and physical comfort, loves you but isn’t in love with you, sees you as a valuable object to preserve, emphasis on manners/respect from you, patronizing, doesn’t like others complaining.

Miruko: sadistic, emotional, lack of self restraint/acts without thinking, prone to sentimentality, highly competitive/superiority complex, not prone to anger, doesn’t take many things seriously, needs constant stimulation/easily bored, high libido, easy going, fear of showing weakness, prone to bragging/talking herself up, prone to rebellious behavior, lacks emotional intelligence, likes to be challenged, very talkative, will talk over you/not listen to what you have to say, has a short attention span.

Geten: violent temper/easily angered, fear of abandonment, fear of showing weakness to others, fear of betrayal, easily embarrassed, plan-oriented/doesn’t like surprises, highly devoted, unfriendly, mostly non-verbal affection, trusting of only you, earnest, lacks a sense of humor, sensitive/easily insulted, touch starved, tendency to use quirk in extreme anger, highly emotional, irrational only in anger, prone to tears of anger.

[cas-huggybear]

God’s most beloved

A/N: this is just a random story I wrote. It’s about Lucier and his fall, his time in the cage and his relationship with his family. And why he tortured Sam Winchester.

He was God’s favorite.

He loved him and siblings deeply.

It hadn't been his fault. The mark, his father had given him, it poisoned his mind.

God had acted irresponsible and foolish, putting such a burden on his most beloved child. He should have known that an object of such power would be too much, even for an archangel.

Then God created men.

Of course Lucifer became jealous of mankind because he loved his father more than anything, and he believed so did his father.

But he was wrong.

God showed more concern fore those creatures than him.

He could not comprehend how such weak and foolish beings even deserved to exist.

So he wanted to set humanity free; to show them that there is more than blind obedience and that free will exists. He would free their minds of the illusion his father created, show them how wrong their beloved God was.

So he seduced her, Eve, the woman. Not because she was weaker than Adam, it had been the contrary. He found more pride in seducing the stronger one, to humiliate his father even more.

He laughed when he saw Adam eating the apple out of Eve's hand, greedily biting and chewing, the sweet juices dripping down his chin.      

And he laughed when he twisted Lilith's human soul, creating the first of the demons.

But then his family turned against him, coldly banishing him from heaven.

And he should have known the angel's blind devotion to their father wasn't something to be quickly overruled.

But the devotion in those who followed him burned hot and the war that came was terrible.

Heaven was shattered, and the descendants of Adam and Eve were terrified, cowering on earth below every time a deafening rumble from above rang in their fragile ears.

When he remembers the war, which divided heaven forever, all he can see is his brothers and sisters.

Angels, slain. Their wings ripped out on the base, terrible, gaping holes where beautiful, divine feathers should be.

Angels, broken and battered.

And he knew, what burns hot, fades even faster. By the time it wasn't utter love and admiration he saw in their eyes. Instead, he saw doubt and grief, slowly turning to anger and hatred. Towards him.

And in his terrible wrath he smote those who doubted him, smote his own people.

After that there were whispers in his own garrison. Whispers, that he had become insane, driven to madness by having to kill his own siblings.

And if he would have been honest to himself, he secretly knew those voices were right. But he was known for his pride and so he refused to believe so.

Perhaps he was insane, but for a different reason. The Mark. The Mark to seal away his father's sister, the Mark that held too much power for him to bear. He had to lose it. And he found a way. The foolish human Cain, tricked and deceived by the Morningstar now bore the Mark, making it widely known. Making him the first human to commit the most terrible crime: murder. He slaughtered his own brother Abel with the jawbone of a mere cow. Lucifer laughed as he saw the despair in father's eyes as it happened.

But he was afraid, afraid because he knew there was still no going back now.

Then it happened.

His father gave the orders. Lucifer followed out of pride, his beloved brother Michael followed as always out of obedience.

There was a time when he secretly used to be jealous of his brother. What a perfect soldier he was. He knew he could never be like him, and the doubt wormed its way up to his heart. But father's strong, soothing hand on his shoulder and gentle words of assurance had simply made the doubt vanish.

The first thing the oldest archangel had noticed while entering the imposing throne room, was Michael's place, – at father's right. The place where he used to stand, assisting father, deliberating with him.

Tall, proud and in golden armor, sword in his mighty hand, Michael did not look at Lucifer when he entered. His piercing blue gaze was fixated right above his brother's head, not acknowledging him. Lucifer couldn't help but grin at his brother's stubbornness.

A choir of whispers surrounded him, hundreds of angel's bearing witness in the throne room.

There was a time those whispers were full of worship and adoration – adoration for him, the Morningstar. But instead of soft, quiet whispers, words of fondness and devotion, those whispers were now cruel and harsh, piercing like the ice-cold wind of earth below.

Insane... evil... traitor... unholy... MONSTER!

He growled and turned around, facing the brutal voices. How could they. They were his family. How dared they insult him that way. After all he was the first and most powerful archangel, Lucifer Morningstar, the bringer of dawn and (he used to be) God's most beloved.

And who were they? Low, meaningless angels, talking about him like he was insane, when in truth they were the blind, little sheep.

He smiled. Pathetic, he thought, as he looked into their faces, expressions full of terror. He snapped his fingers, a dozen angels disintegrating. The unharmed angels cried out in horror, cowering under his fiery blue stare and he delighted in their fear.

“LUCIFER!”

There he was. His brother finally looked him in the eye. Lucifer grinned at him too.

“You will pay for this.”, Michael's voice sounded, threateningly low, but his older brother was not impressed.

They met in the middle of the white throne room, surrounded by angels and marble-pillars.

It happened fast. Michael raised his sword. The proud, strong archangel Michael, but most of all his dear brother, was fighting him.

They had fought before, before all of it happened. They had fought about every mild inconvenience, driving father and his siblings mad. But back then, there was always some sort of playfulness, even cheer in their eyes. And if he hurt Michael in a serious manner, or the other way around, the brothers would always apologize, hug and laugh it off, not seeing the content smile on their father's face afterwards.

But not now.

Now, it was Michael's intent to end him. His hits showed no mercy, relentlessly battling him, channeling all his strength. His mighty sword coming down on his and the look on his face, grim and cold, showing no emotion.

Lucifer knew his brothers and sisters were watching them, they cried out in horror every time one of them was hit.

The two beautiful brothers were fighting hard and relentlessly, divine swords crashing together in loud, metallic rings.

But Lucifer knew he was still a better fighter, more powerful. He was the first archangel, angel, older than his brother and he would win.

Or so he thought. He had underestimated his brother's grim determination, underestimated Michael's will to turn against him.

At first he thought there was a chance of talking to his stubborn brother, but every time he attempted to speak, his brother's eyes would glow, bright and blue, and his celestial energy would force Lucifer back.

Still the Morningstar believed he would win that terrible battle.

And Lucifer was furious. How could his brother do that to him? How could father do this to him? He loved them, he loved all of his family.

They were both bleeding now, grace shining bright through their bodies.

Father's voice rumbled through heaven's throne room, commanding them to halt in their action. They both stopped, Michael out of obedience, Lucifer out of old habit.

Father's accusations numbed him but at the same time...

There it was.

The flame inside of him, burning bright and red through his eyes and Michael's look of utter disturbance when he saw his brother's blue eyes turn red for the first time fueled his unstoppable rage even more.

With proud strides the Morningstar made his way over to father's throne.

The angels screamed as they saw him raise his sword at father, and then he screamed when  Michael roughly yanked him backwards.

By his wings.

The most sensitive and most holy part of an angel's body. The most intimate. He could feel feathers ripping out, blood spilling, the small bones crushed under Michael's merciless grip.

With a roar he turned around with the intention of causing Michael as much pain as he experienced.

But then it happened. For a split second he could see Michael's facade crumble when he heard father's command. He could see the real Michael, not the cold soldier but his little brother, staring up at him in dread. Even for Michael father's choice of punishment sounded cruel.

Lucifer stared at his brother, awaiting his reaction.

A choir of terrified angel voices followed them again and when he saw the clouds dividing, the distant green of earth so contrary to the white marble of the throne room, he knew it was the end.

Michael's expression shifted back to grim and determined.

For the last time Lucifer allowed himself to look at his brothers.

Gabriel. Tears were streaming down his little brothers face, arms around a little fledgling who had buried his face in Gabriel's side.

Raphael stared at him without emotion, looking at him as if watching the clouds in heaven.

But Lucifer couldn't look at father. Not after this. He despised him.

And in this moment he swore his revenge would be terrible.

With gleaming red eyes he turned his face to look at Michael. The cold breeze from the opening rustled his and Michael's feathers.

He grinned at his brother, his face a mocking grimace.

“What are you waiting for, brother?”, he spat.

With another violent pull Michael yanked him forward once again and he could hear his bones break. The pain emerging from his wing was almost unbearable.

Lucifer wanted to stop his brother from dragging him, tried hitting him with his bare hands, kicking him, clawing at him, anything to protect his wings, but his hands did not affect Michael and he knew, it was father who protected his brother against his attacks.

He stumbled after his little brother, cursing him, cursing father and the entirety of heaven.

When his other wing broke, the angels started crying but he simply laughed.

“You are a monster, Lucifer.”, his brother's cold voice hurting him more than his grip on his wings.

With those words Michael let his white, bloodstained wings go and violently kicked him, hard, in the back, right between his destroyed wings.

Then he fell, accompanied by his sibling's cries.

What he mostly remembers from the fall is pain and the smell of his burning wings. Once he reached a certain speed, he was nothing but a ball of fire.

His broken wings were flapping useless above him, burning.

He tried to do anything to slow himself, tried to lift his once strong wings, but the broken bones did not allow him to.

It is said the scream that erupted from Lucifer's throat that moment shook not only heaven, but hell and earth as well.

And mankind was terrified once they caught sight of the archangel, falling in a fiery mess, and heard his terrible cry.  

The moment he collided with earth's rough surface, he wished he had lost consciousness.

Instead, he hit the surface with a shattering thud.

Only then, everything went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself behind strong, warded metal bars., His father's print clear on them.

He knew father had meant to bind him, to not release him upon the earth, threatening his oh so beloved creation.

The millennia he spent imprisoned in the cage had their fair share on him. Healing was hard, all alone in the darkness with no help.

His wings...

His beautiful wings were destroyed. The once alabaster white feathers, with sprinkles of pure gold at the feather's ends were now black and stunted – burned.

And he wept for them, wept alone in the darkness of the sickening cage, wept for his despair and repudiation.

Once he used to laugh at his father's poor creativity, locking him up just like he did to his sister.

Once he used to laugh at the screams of the doomed souls, suffering.

After a while he stopped. He became... considerate, quiet.

Over hundreds of years he took the time of the solitude to heal himself.

And finally his wings were restored to their former glory, as well as the rest of his body.

But not his mind. It was broken and no grace, no divine power could repair it. There was nothing but a storm of dark clouds, full of hatred, disdain and rage.

So he was left with himself. Thinking, planning, listening.

And how he learned to loathe his father and all his creation.

The once beautiful archangel Lucifer Morningstar, God's most beloved child, was now the Devil.

Twisted, sick and evil, he waited.

A whisper. Promises from Azazel, one of his princes. Promises for him. He hoped Azazel wouldn't fail – otherwise not even the bars of the damned cage would save the demon from his wrath.

Then, he felt a low rumble, vibrating through the cage.

Then another. And another.

He could sense her coming. His first creation. Lilith. After all she was bound to him.

Her words were the sweetest music in his ears.

Music, of the 66 seals being broken, music of heaven's armies failing.

And finally he laughed again and all of hell heard him and cheered.

Lucifer would walk the earth and be their salvation.

With the last seal breaking, the fire in him burned again, after a long time.

He was free again.

Finally he was going to get his revenge.

And it would be so sweet.

He smiled. He would destroy the one thing that brought him his doom – humanity.

And he would find such pleasure in destroying his father’s most beloved creation.

Lucifer would destroy mankind the same way his father had destroyed him.

He was surprised at how easy it was to possess his first vessel. How easily manipulated humans still were.

Thousands of years after their creation and they were just as weak and pathetic as the day they first opened their eyes.

The suffering they would endure once he had raised hell would be terrible, and he hoped that father, wherever he was, would see the mistake he made.

He knew his brother's garrison was after him, but he had other, more important concerns.

For example convincing Sam Winchester to be his vessel – it was his destiny after all. The same way it was Sam's idiotic brother's destiny to be Michael's vessel.

But the brothers were... stronger and more resistant than usual, their brotherly love painfully reminding him of what he and Michael once used to have.

He did not worry though, they were just humans after all and he was, well, the Devil.

Then, the one thing he always tried to avoid happened.

His little brother, Gabriel got in his way, and he couldn't understand why he would care for those pagans. Lesser beings, not half as worth as his little brother himself, far beneath him.

So he left his little Gabriel the choice – him or Michael, to evaluate whether he was worthy of being a part of his new kingdom.

And oh how he wished his little brother would have picked him, how his foolish little brother would see that he was the right choice.

But Gabriel was blind and so he had to end him.

He simply couldn't show any more weakness. Now it was about his main goal, and to reach it. He would turn against his family for it, like they once turned on him. He had tried but his brother had left him no choice.

And so he had turned around, piercing his brother's own blade right through his heart, watching the life leave his eyes, shining bright and blue through them.

He cried and wept for his little brother but it had to be. There was no way he could allow any form of resistance in his kingdom.

The world would be his, only his.

But of course his other brother couldn’t let that happen.

Lucifer still loved Michael. Even now, after what Michael had done to him. Even after his last words to him had stung terribly.

So he tried talking to him, get him to understand that he wasn’t evil. (Just) simply misunderstood.

But his stupid, prideful, stubborn brother wouldn’t listen to him. He was just as blind as Gabriel was.

So they had to fight and he knew he would win. He was the Morningstar after all.

And his kingdom would rise.

But then, this miserable human and his imbecile brother damaged his plans.

When Sam Winchester accepted to be his vessel, he knew he should have locked him far away in his mind before, but it was so much fun watching the younger Winchester suffer.

Watching it tear him apart that he wasn’t strong enough to overpower him, to watch innocent people die at his own hands.

And how he enjoyed beating up the pitiful other one, Dean, making him suffer at his Sammy’s hand.

But he underestimated them, and he cursed himself for it.

His stupid vessel took control, and it grabbed Michael, dragging both of them with him.

And then he was there again.

The one place he wished to never be again, the one place he feared.

He had wished to never having to look at the iron bars, how they seemingly got closer with every breath he took.

But this time he wasn’t alone.

And even if he couldn’t get his revenge on father, he knew ways nobody else knew of, to make the person suffer who brought him back to the hell hole.

A smile crept up his face.

He would break Sam Winchester.

[thegreatantonchekhov]

In Exile

By Anton Chekhov

Translated by Constance Garnett

“God created man to be alive, and to have joy and grief and sorrow; but you want nothing, so you are not alive, you are stone, clay! A stone wants nothing and you want nothing.”

OLD SEMYON, nicknamed Canny, and a young Tatar, whom no one knew by name, were sitting on the river-bank by the camp-fire; the other three ferrymen were in the hut. Semyon, an old man of sixty, lean and toothless, but broad shouldered and still healthy-looking, was drunk; he would have gone in to sleep long before, but he had a bottle in his pocket and he was afraid that the fellows in the hut would ask him for vodka. The Tatar was ill and weary, and wrapping himself up in his rags was describing how nice it was in the Simbirsk province, and what a beautiful and clever wife he had left behind at home. He was not more than twenty five, and now by the light of the camp-fire, with his pale and sick, mournful face, he looked like a boy.

“To be sure, it is not paradise here,” said Canny. “You can see for yourself, the water, the bare banks, clay, and nothing else.... Easter has long passed and yet there is ice on the river, and this morning there was snow. . .”

“It’s bad! it’s bad!” said the Tatar, and looked round him in terror.

The dark, cold river was flowing ten paces away; it grumbled, lapped against the hollow clay banks and raced on swiftly towards the far-away sea. Close to the bank there was the dark blur of a big barge, which the ferrymen called a “karbos.” Far away on the further bank, lights, dying down and flickering up again, zigzagged like little snakes; they were burning last year’s grass. And beyond the little snakes there was darkness again. There little icicles could be heard knocking against the barge It was damp and cold....

The Tatar glanced at the sky. There were as many stars as at home, and the same blackness all round, but something was lacking. At home in the Simbirsk province the stars were quite different, and so was the sky.

“It’s bad! it’s bad!” he repeated.

“You will get used to it,” said Semyon, and he laughed. “Now you are young and foolish, the milk is hardly dry on your lips, and it seems to you in your foolishness that you are more wretched than anyone; but the time will come when you will say to yourself: ‘I wish no one a better life than mine.’ You look at me. Within a week the floods will be over and we shall set up the ferry; you will all go wandering off about Siberia while I shall stay and shall begin going from bank to bank. I’ve been going like that for twenty-two years, day and night. The pike and the salmon are under the water while I am on the water. And thank God for it, I want nothing; God give everyone such a life.”

The Tatar threw some dry twigs on the camp-fire, lay down closer to the blaze, and said:

“My father is a sick man. When he dies my mother and wife will come here. They have promised.”

“And what do you want your wife and mother for?” asked Canny. “That’s mere foolishness, my lad. It’s the devil confounding you, damn his soul! Don’t you listen to him, the cursed one. Don’t let him have his way. He is at you about the women, but you spite him; say, ‘I don’t want them!’ He is on at you about freedom, but you stand up to him and say: ‘I don’t want it!’ I want nothing, neither father nor mother, nor wife, nor freedom, nor post, nor paddock; I want nothing, damn their souls!”

Semyon took a pull at the bottle and went on:

“I am not a simple peasant, not of the working class, but the son of a deacon, and when I was free I lived at Kursk; I used to wear a frockcoat, and now I have brought myself to such a pass that I can sleep naked on the ground and eat grass. And I wish no one a better life. I want nothing and I am afraid of nobody, and the way I look at it is that there is nobody richer and freer than I am. When they sent me here from Russia from the first day I stuck it out; I want nothing! The devil was at me about my wife and about my home and about freedom, but I told him: ‘I want nothing.’ I stuck to it, and here you see I live well, and I don’t complain, and if anyone gives way to the devil and listens to him, if but once, he is lost, there is no salvation for him: he is sunk in the bog to the crown of his head and will never get out.

“It is not only a foolish peasant like you, but even gentlemen, well-educated people, are lost. Fifteen years ago they sent a gentleman here from Russia. He hadn’t shared something with his brothers and had forged something in a will. They did say he was a prince or a baron, but maybe he was simply an official -- who knows? Well, the gentleman arrived here, and first thing he bought himself a house and land in Muhortinskoe. ‘I want to live by my own work,’ says he, ‘in the sweat of my brow, for I am not a gentleman now,’ says he, ‘but a settler.’ ‘Well,’ says I, ‘God help you, that’s the right thing.’ He was a young man then, busy and careful; he used to mow himself and catch fish and ride sixty miles on horseback. Only this is what happened: from the very first year he took to riding to Gyrino for the post; he used to stand on my ferry and sigh: ‘Ech, Semyon, how long it is since they sent me any money from home!’ ‘You don’t want money, Vassily Sergeyitch,’ says I. ‘What use is it to you? You cast away the past, and forget it as though it had never been at all, as though it had been a dream, and begin to live anew. Don’t listen to the devil,’ says I; ‘he will bring you to no good, he’ll draw you into a snare. Now you want money,’ says I, ‘ but in a very little while you’ll be wanting something else, and then more and more. If you want to be happy,’ says I, the chief thing is not to want anything. Yes.... If,’ says I, ‘if Fate has wronged you and me cruelly it’s no good asking for her favor and bowing down to her, but you despise her and laugh at her, or else she will laugh at you.’ That’s what I said to him....

“Two years later I ferried him across to this side, and he was rubbing his hands and laughing. ‘ I am going to Gyrino to meet my wife,’ says he. ‘She was sorry for me,’ says he; ‘she has come. She is good and kind.’ And he was breathless with joy. So a day later he came with his wife. A beautiful young lady in a hat; in her arms was a baby girl. And lots of luggage of all sorts. And my Vassily Sergeyitch was fussing round her; he couldn’t take his eyes off her and couldn’t say enough in praise of her. ‘Yes, brother Semyon, even in Siberia people can live!’ ‘Oh, all right,’ thinks I, ‘it will be a different tale presently.’ And from that time forward he went almost every week to inquire whether money had not come from Russia. He wanted a lot of money. ‘She is losing her youth and beauty here in Siberia for my sake,’ says he, ‘and sharing my bitter lot with me, and so I ought,’ says he, ‘to provide her with every comfort. . . .’

“To make it livelier for the lady he made acquaintance with the officials and all sorts of riff-raff. And of course he had to give food and drink to all that crew, and there had to be a piano and a shaggy lapdog on the sofa -- plague take it!... Luxury, in fact, self-indulgence. The lady did not stay with him long. How could she? The clay, the water, the cold, no vegetables for you, no fruit. All around you ignorant and drunken people and no sort of manners, and she was a spoilt lady from Petersburg or Moscow.... To be sure she moped. Besides, her husband, say what you like, was not a gentleman now, but a settler -- not the same rank.

“Three years later, I remember, on the eve of the Assumption, there was shouting from the further bank. I went over with the ferry, and what do I see but the lady, all wrapped up, and with her a young gentleman, an official. A sledge with three horses.... I ferried them across here, they got in and away like the wind. They were soon lost to sight. And towards morning Vassily Sergeyitch galloped down to the ferry. ‘Didn’t my wife come this way with a gentleman in spectacles, Semyon?’ ‘She did,’ said I; ‘you may look for the wind in the fields!’ He galloped in pursuit of them. For five days and nights he was riding after them. When I ferried him over to the other side afterwards, he flung himself on the ferry and beat his head on the boards of the ferry and howled. ‘So that’s how it is,’ says I. I laughed, and reminded him ‘people can live even in Siberia!’ And he beat his head harder than ever....

“Then he began longing for freedom. His wife had slipped off to Russia, and of course he was drawn there to see her and to get her away from her lover. And he took, my lad, to galloping almost every day, either to the post or the town to see the commanding officer; he kept sending in petitions for them to have mercy on him and let him go back home; and he used to say that he had spent some two hundred roubles on telegrams alone. He sold his land and mortgaged his house to the Jews. He grew gray and bent, and yellow in the face, as though he was in consumption. If he talked to you he would go, khee--khee--khee,. . . and there were tears in his eyes. He kept rushing about like this with petitions for eight years, but now he has grown brighter and more cheerful again: he has found another whim to give way to. You see, his daughter has grown up. He looks at her, and she is the apple of his eye. And to tell the truth she is all right, good-looking, with black eyebrows and a lively disposition. Every Sunday he used to ride with her to church in Gyrino. They used to stand on the ferry, side by side, she would laugh and he could not take his eyes off her. ‘Yes, Semyon,’ says he, ‘people can live even in Siberia. Even in Siberia there is happiness. Look,’ says he, ‘what a daughter I have got! I warrant you wouldn’t find another like her for a thousand versts round.’ ‘Your daughter is all right,’ says I, ‘that’s true, certainly.’ But to myself I thought: ‘Wait a bit, the wench is young, her blood is dancing, she wants to live, and there is no life here.’ And she did begin to pine, my lad.... She faded and faded, and now she can hardly crawl about. Consumption.

“So you see what Siberian happiness is, damn its soul! You see how people can live in Siberia.... He has taken to going from one doctor to another and taking them home with him. As soon as he hears that two or three hundred miles away there is a doctor or a sorcerer, he will drive to fetch him. A terrible lot of money he spent on doctors, and to my thinking he had better have spent the money on drink.... She’ll die just the same. She is certain to die, and then it will be all over with him. He’ll hang himself from grief or run away to Russia -- that’s a sure thing. He’ll run away and they’ll catch him, then he will be tried, sent to prison, he will have a taste of the lash. . . .”

“Good! good!” said the Tatar, shivering with cold.

“What is good?” asked Canny.

“His wife, his daughter.... What of prison and what of sorrow! -- anyway, he did see his wife and his daughter.... You say, want nothing. But ‘nothing’ is bad! His wife lived with him three years -- that was a gift from God. ‘Nothing’ is bad, but three years is good. How not understand?”

Shivering and hesitating, with effort picking out the Russian words of which he knew but few, the Tatar said that God forbid one should fall sick and die in a strange land, and be buried in the cold and dark earth; that if his wife came to him for one day, even for one hour, that for such happiness he would be ready to bear any suffering and to thank God. Better one day of happiness than nothing.

Then he described again what a beautiful and clever wife he had left at home. Then, clutching his head in both hands, he began crying and assuring Semyon that he was not guilty, and was suffering for nothing. His two brothers and an uncle had carried off a peasant’s horses, and had beaten the old man till he was half dead, and the commune had not judged fairly, but had contrived a sentence by which all the three brothers were sent to Siberia, while the uncle, a rich man, was left at home.

“You will get used to it!” said Semyon.

The Tatar was silent, and stared with tear-stained eyes at the fire; his face expressed bewilderment and fear, as though he still did not understand why he was here in the darkness and the wet, beside strangers, and not in the Simbirsk province.

Canny lay near the fire, chuckled at something, and began humming a song in an undertone.

“What joy has she with her father?” he said a little later. “He loves her and he rejoices in her, that’s true; but, mate, you must mind your ps and qs with him, he is a strict old man, a harsh old man. And young wenches don’t want strictness. They want petting and ha-ha-ha! and ho-ho-ho! and scent and pomade. Yes.... Ech! life, life,” sighed Semyon, and he got up heavily. “The vodka is all gone, so it is time to sleep. Eh? I am going, my lad. . . .”

Left alone, the Tatar put on more twigs, lay down and stared at the fire; he began thinking of his own village and of his wife. If his wife could only come for a month, for a day; and then if she liked she might go back again. Better a month or even a day than nothing. But if his wife kept her promise and came, what would he have to feed her on? Where could she live here?

“If there were not something to eat, how could she live?” the Tatar asked aloud.

He was paid only ten kopecks for working all day and all night at the oar; it is true that travelers gave him tips for tea and for vodkas but the men shared all they received among themselves, and gave nothing to the Tatar, but only laughed at him. And from poverty he was hungry, cold, and frightened.... Now, when his whole body was aching and shivering, he ought to go into the hut and lie down to sleep; but he had nothing to cover him there, and it was colder than on the river-bank; here he had nothing to cover him either, but at least he could make up the fire....

In another week, when the floods were quite over and they set the ferry going, none of the ferrymen but Semyon would be wanted, and the Tatar would begin going from village to village begging for alms and for work. His wife was only seventeen; she was beautiful, spoilt, and shy; could she possibly go from village to village begging alms with her face unveiled? No, it was terrible even to think of that....

It was already getting light; the barge, the bushes of willow on the water, and the waves could be clearly discerned, and if one looked round there was the steep clay slope; at the bottom of it the hut thatched with dingy brown straw, and the huts of the village lay clustered higher up. The cocks were already crowing in the village.

The rusty red clay slope, the barge, the river, the strange, unkind people, hunger, cold, illness, perhaps all that was not real. Most likely it was all a dream, thought the Tatar. He felt that he was asleep and heard his own snoring.... Of course he was at home in the Simbirsk province, and he had only to call his wife by name for her to answer; and in the next room was his mother.... What terrible dreams there are, though! What are they for? The Tatar smiled and opened his eyes. What river was this, the Volga?

Snow was falling.

“Boat!” was shouted on the further side. “Boat!”

The Tatar woke up, and went to wake his mates and row over to the other side. The ferrymen came on to the river-bank, putting on their torn sheepskins as they walked, swearing with voices husky from sleepiness and shivering from the cold. On waking from their sleep, the river, from which came a breath of piercing cold, seemed to strike them as revolting and horrible. They jumped into the barge without hurrying themselves.... The Tatar and the three ferrymen took the long, broad-bladed oars, which in the darkness looked like the claws of crabs; Semyon leaned his stomach against the tiller. The shout on the other side still continued, and two shots were fired from a revolver, probably with the idea that the ferrymen were asleep or had gone to the pot-house in the village.

“All right, you have plenty of time,” said Semyon in the tone of a man convinced that there was no necessity in this world to hurry -- that it would lead to nothing, anyway.

The heavy, clumsy barge moved away from the bank and floated between the willow-bushes, and only the willows slowly moving back showed that the barge was not standing still but moving. The ferrymen swung the oars evenly in time; Semyon lay with his stomach on the tiller and, describing a semicircle in the air, flew from one side to the other. In the darkness it looked as though the men were sitting on some antediluvian animal with long paws, and were moving on it through a cold, desolate land, the land of which one sometimes dreams in nightmares.

They passed beyond the willows and floated out into the open. The creak and regular splash of the oars was heard on the further shore, and a shout came: “Make haste! make haste!”

Another ten minutes passed, and the barge banged heavily against the landing-stage.

“And it keeps sprinkling and sprinkling,” muttered Semyon, wiping the snow from his face; “and where it all comes from God only knows.”

On the bank stood a thin man of medium height in a jacket lined with fox fur and in a white lambskin cap. He was standing at a little distance from his horses and not moving; he had a gloomy, concentrated expression, as though he were trying to remember something and angry with his untrustworthy memory. When Semyon went up to him and took off his cap, smiling, he said:

“I am hastening to Anastasyevka. My daughter’s worse again, and they say that there is a new doctor at Anastasyevka.”

They dragged the carriage on to the barge and floated back. The man whom Semyon addressed as Vassily Sergeyitch stood all the time motionless, tightly compressing his thick lips and staring off into space; when his coachman asked permission to smoke in his presence he made no answer, as though he had not heard. Semyon, lying with his stomach on the tiller, looked mockingly at him and said:

“Even in Siberia people can live -- can li-ive!”

There was a triumphant expression on Canny’s face, as though he had proved something and was delighted that things had happened as he had foretold. The unhappy helplessness of the man in the foxskin coat evidently afforded him great pleasure.

“It’s muddy driving now, Vassily Sergeyitch,” he said when the horses were harnessed again on the bank. “You should have put off going for another fortnight, when it will be drier. Or else not have gone at all.... If any good would come of your going -- but as you know yourself, people have been driving about for years and years, day and night, and it’s alway’s been no use. That’s the truth.”

Vassily Sergeyitch tipped him without a word, got into his carriage and drove off.

“There, he has galloped off for a doctor!” said Semyon, shrinking from the cold. “But looking for a good doctor is like chasing the wind in the fields or catching the devil by the tail, plague take your soul! What a queer chap, Lord forgive me a sinner!”

The Tatar went up to Canny, and, looking at him with hatred and repulsion, shivering, and mixing Tatar words with his broken Russian, said: “He is good... good; but you are bad! You are bad! The gentleman is a good soul, excellent, and you are a beast, bad! The gentleman is alive, but you are a dead carcass.... God created man to be alive, and to have joy and grief and sorrow; but you want nothing, so you are not alive, you are stone, clay! A stone wants nothing and you want nothing. You are a stone, and God does not love you, but He loves the gentleman!”

Everyone laughed; the Tatar frowned contemptuously, and with a wave of his hand wrapped himself in his rags and went to the campfire. The ferrymen and Semyon sauntered to the hut.

“It’s cold,” said one ferryman huskily as he stretched himself on the straw with which the damp clay floor was covered.

“Yes, its not warm,” another assented. “It’s a dog’s life. . . .”

They all lay down. The door was thrown open by the wind and the snow drifted into the hut; nobody felt inclined to get up and shut the door: they were cold, and it was too much trouble.

“I am all right,” said Semyon as he began to doze. “I wouldn’t wish anyone a better life.”

“You are a tough one, we all know. Even the devils won’t take you!”

Sounds like a dog’s howling came from outside.

“What’s that? Who’s there?”

“It’s the Tatar crying.”

“I say.... He’s a queer one!”

“He’ll get u-used to it!” said Semyon, and at once fell asleep.

The others were soon asleep too. The door remained unclosed.

NOTES

Tatar: an ethnic group of Turkic-speaking, traditionally Moslem people

karbos: a large rowed ferry boat with 4 to 10 oars

commune had not judged fairly: a village commune, mir, had the right to exile any lawbreakers to Siberia

[magaprima]

Despite having come across many who think the contrary, Lilith does not despise or hate Eve. In fact, quite the opposite. She knows Eve was created to replace her, she knows she was created from Adam’s rib so that she wouldn’t be able to make the same argument as Lilith that they were ‘made equal’ and so would have to do as she was told. She feels Eve is another symbol of how the world, even Gods, treats women. They’re they’re either punished or oppressed. She also remembers how cruel and controlling Adam was and knows Eve would have gone through the same. She also hates that all Eve did was eat the apple, an apple she was was only denied because the False God wanted to control everything including her, and that she was condemned as the ruin of humanity, despite the fact Adam ate the apple too. 

Lilith sees more a kindred spirit in Eve, perhaps even sees her as a kid sister (not literally, as that’s not Lilith’s nature, but it’s the best comparison I can come with currently,the idea of the younger, newer addition with the same ‘parent’ and ‘childhood’ ), and subconsciously was disappointed that she stayed with Adam instead of joining Lilith on the banishment path and having some actual fun. She definitely sees Eve more as victim than enemy, despite the fact the woman is still on the False God’s ‘side’. 

Adam, however, she would take immense pleasure in tormenting and torturing. Just for funsies. 

[proteportainternational]

The 2020 Tesla Model Y Proves How Far Behind The Rest Of The Auto Industry Still Is

My opinion of Tesla in recent years has been one hell of a roller-coaster ride. At first, I admired the company's fast, innovative electric cars; then I grew to hate CEO Elon Musk's constant Twitter shenanigans and nuclear takes on journalists and the media.

Then I drove a Model S, a Model X and a Model 3; the last one twice, actually, first a Standard Range, followed by a Performance model. I loved each one of them, mostly for what felt like cutting-edge technology, performance and a general sense of feeling different, the way Apple computers must have felt when they competed against the beige-box Windows PCs of the 1990s. Then, finally, I despised Tesla for inflicting owners with an innumerable amount of post-sales issues, including notoriously poor quality control.

I don’t know what’s worse between a paint job that peels off during the first winter, or door handles that refuse to operate properly during a cool Canadian morning; don't even get me started on the infamous panel gaps.

This year, Tesla is back with its most important car possibly ever: the Model Y. It's priced to sell in the ultra-important, ultra-popular, ultra-lucrative midsize crossover segment, smaller and cheaper than a Model X and without those problematic Falcon Doors. Unlike wild experiments like the forthcoming Cybertruck—if that even happens as-is—the Model Y is meant to be a major volume-seller, the car that keeps the bills paid. But it also needs to still be a Tesla, meaning fast, high-tech and a cut above all other EVs, long as you check expectations about quality at the normally-opening door.

Yet will the 2020 Tesla Model Y being plagued with build quality issues affect its desirability? Perhaps not. Because here’s the cold hard truth about Tesla: whether we like it or not, it’s still ahead of the curve. Way ahead. And the more I drive Tesla's cars, the sadder I feel about the rest of the auto industry.   2020 Tesla Model Y: By The NumbersBase Price (as Tested):  $43,690  ( $43,690  )Powertrain: Dual electric motor setup mounted on each axle, one permanent-magnet synchronous, one AC induction / 75 kWh batteryHorsepower: 384 hp (286 kilowatts)Torque: 376 lb-ft0-60 MPH:  4.7 secondsTop Speed: 136 mph (limited)Cargo Capacity: 68 cubic-feet rear with seats folded | 15 cubic-feet front (frunk)Quick Take: Still the most technological EV on sale, the most range in its class, the strangest EV on the market. Build quality remains an issue.But Y?The Model Y may share a platform and a lot of related parts with the Model 3, but it's poised to strike hard in a segment that’ll start boiling anytime between now and next year. As I write this, the Model Y’s only rivals are the Jaguar I-Pace and Audi e-tron. But come this fall, the Ford Mustang Mach-E could give the Y a run for its money. Nissan then plans on deploying the promising Ariya later in 2021, and finally, Cadillac will join the party with the Lyriq sometime in 2023.But why aren’t any of these models on the market yet? I’m asking the same question, which I’ll get back to in a bit. To take them all on, the Model Y (across all its trim levels) is powered by a 75-kWh battery pack powering two axle-mounted electric motors. The rear one, which is the car’s main source of propulsion, is Tesla’s own Permanent Magnet Switched Reluctance type, a fancy term to describe permanent magnets that are located within the rotor itself. These are, basically, more efficient than most electric motors currently on the market. The front motor is a more conventional induction-type layout—similar to what you get in a Chevrolet Bolt EV—providing high levels of torque at low speeds, but also more energy-hungry. This is why the Model Y is first and foremost rear-wheel-drive. The front motor kicks in only when you really need it. Total power output from this Dual Motor setup is rated at 286 kilowatts, or the equivalent of 384 horsepower and 376 lb-ft of torque. Tesla claims the entry-level Long-Range model (the one I tested) will hit zero to 60 mph in just under five seconds and that it will drive up to 310 miles on a single charge.Such specifications pulverize both the Jaguar I-Pace (234 miles) and Audi e-tron (204 miles). Only the upcoming Mach-E with the extended range package has a chance to compete against this Tesla. Perhaps more impressive is the Model Y’s 3,500-pound towing rating, which is a first in this category of vehicles. However, you do need to tick off a $1,000 Tow Hitch option to get it.Pricing for a 2020 Tesla Model Y kicks off at $43,690 USD (or $69,990 CAD) before applicable rebates, and will climb all the way to $53,690 USD for a much faster Performance model. Up here in Québec, where state-subsidized incentives are strong and EVs sell well, the Model Y is sadly not eligible for anything due to its high price tag.  (In case you’re curious: In Canada, EVs need to be under a starting MSRP of $55,000 CAD to receive any rebates, up to $13,000 in total. These incentives currently only apply to more affordable EVs like the Tesla Model 3 Standard Range Plus, Chevrolet Bolt EV and other similarly priced models.) Less 3 Than You’d Think It would be safe to assume that the Model Y is basically a slightly lifted hatchback version of a Model 3 sedan. That observation is only half right. While it does ride on the Model 3’s platform, the Model Y’s wheelbase was stretched by half an inch, leading to a 2.2-inch overall length difference. The Y is also 2.8 inches wider than the sedan on which it’s based. These dimensional changes, accompanied by the higher roofline and hatchback configuration, inevitably lead to a more spacious and practical cabin. Rear leg and headroom are no longer an issue like they can be in a Model 3, and total cargo space is rather spectacular, to say the least.For reference, when the rear seatbacks are folded down, the Model Y will engulf up to 68 cubic feet of your gear. Add to that an extra 15 cubes upfront due to the frunk and Tesla’s crossover beats both the Jag I-Pace (50 cu-ft) and the Audi e-tron (54 cu-ft) in cargo capacity. Even the Ford Mustang Mach-E can’t match this at 59.6 cu-ft rear / 4.8 cu-ft front. And while the Model Y is technically a five-seater, you can add a third row for a seven-seat interior. However, because the option costs $3,000, and that the seats themselves are tiny and eat up a fair amount of cargo space, I don’t recommend getting it.Except for what I just mentioned above, there aren’t many available options for a Model Y. Your choice of interior colors is limited to black or white. Tesla does include the standard Autopilot automated driving assistance technology, with the Full Self-Driving Capability feature remaining an $8,000 option. My tester didn’t have that one ticked off, which meant it had driver assist technology and not actual, fully autonomous driving. A reminder: no car has that. The FSD option includes some features supposedly coming down the road. It's your call if you have faith in that or not.  Come At Me, Muskbros Before I move onto my driving impressions, I will say that I was just as disappointed by this thing’s overall build quality as the Model 3’s. Among the manufacturing issues I noticed on my tester, which I obtained through the Turo ride-sharing app, was a passenger-side headlight that wasn’t properly aligned, a rear bumper that didn’t quite tuck in the same way on both sides of the car, a rear hatch that had a wider door-to-body gap on one side than the other, and some rubber moldings that felt they had been installed as afterthoughts. That the Model Y’s large center console is made out of cheap Dollarama-grade plastic is another huge letdown. Cabin noise was also very apparent during my drive, where squeaks and rattles kept disturbing the otherwise peaceful experience—it's all especially more noticeable with no engine to drown it out. The Model Y’s interior feels downright cheaply made, especially when you compare it to what the Germans or even the South-Koreans manufacture in this price bracket.Once strapped in, the now expected one-screen-controls-all setup stares at you robotically like HAL in the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey. In its defense, it’s a remarkably easy interface to comprehend. Granted, there is a learning curve, but the information isn’t cluttered like other systems, so it doesn’t take too much time to figure out where everything is. The screen also reacts quickly to your commands, the navigation map is clear and intuitive to use, and the overall interface is clean and attractive. I do feel Tesla’s latest vehicles deserve some physical controls, like mirror and steering wheel adjustments, or audio commands. Cycling through the screen to find them can at times be distracting, especially while driving.I did however enjoy how the car’s dashcam switches on the moment you hunk the horn. It’s a handy feature that allows you to grab some footage of the douchebag who just scraped off your front bumper. Forward visibility is excellent due to the absence of, well, a dashboard. So is overall comfort, especially up front where the seats provide ample lateral and back support. The rear seats are spacious, too, and offer ample head clearance for a big guy like me, but the seatbacks themselves are hard. You also sit upright back there. It is however possible to recline the seats, but they’re just never as comfortable as the ones upfront. The Model Y’s glass roof—which doesn’t open—gives way to a well-lit, airy cabin. On The Road When I say that Tesla is ahead of the competition, I don’t mean that it’s the first to market a 300-mile electric compact crossover. Or because it pioneered over-the-air software updates, an in-house fast-charging network or its own sales model that other car brands are just beginning to copy.No, Tesla is ahead of the curve due to the way it drives and how utterly efficient its drivetrains are compared to other EVs out there. Driving the Model Y captures Tesla’s technological dominance by the way it performs and manages its range. Although the industry now offers a wide choice of compelling EVs, I remain impressed by how smooth and instant Tesla’s motors feel.Unsurprisingly, the Model Y will launch itself out of the hole as fast as the best sports cars, but it’s the precision of its throttle pedal that’s truly astonishing. One simply needs to feather it for the vehicle to get up and go swiftly. It’s the kind of tactility that instantly infuses the driver with utmost confidence and control.  Releasing that pedal also unleashes Tesla’s excellent regenerative braking technology. While competing brands offer the possibility to modulate the recuperation system’s resistance, Tesla proves once more that two well-preconfigured settings suffice.About the Tesla Supercharger network: I didn’t really need to use it given the amount of range the Model Y has at its disposal. But it is handy if your area isn’t fitted with an established public charging grid. Where I live, there’s a public charger on every street corner, so Superchargers are kind of irrelevant. But it will allow you to grab 158 miles of range within only 15 minutes, so there’s that.That said, not having to rely on a charger was another realization that hit me hard as I blasted this compact crossover into highway onramps at speeds that would make a Porsche Macan Turbo blush: range anxiety is officially a thing of the past, folks. Battery technology is evolving so rapidly that we’ll soon get way more range than we actually need from an overnight charge. It’s a reality, that’s a lot closer than we think.Anyway, back to the driving experience. The Model Y, even in its most basic form, is fast, smooth and efficient. But that’s all expected from a Tesla. What I wasn’t ready for was how well it handles. Modern electric cars, generally speaking, all handle well due to the heavy battery pack that’s located down beneath their floor. This allows for an ultra-low center of gravity and near-perfect weight distribution. But up until now, the driving dynamics of most EVs, except perhaps the Jaguar I-Pace—an EV I once drove on a track like a bat out of hell—or the Porsche Taycan all feel a bit stale. The Model Y has a playful, tail-happy feel when it’s pushed hard to its limits. The Dual Motor setup somehow always prioritizes the rear motor, even though its original purpose was to be efficient and not performance-enhancing. Yet, it’s still willing to party.What I mean is that there’s actual rotation happening back there, which allows the Model Y to wag its tail if you really commit upon corner exit. Yet, it’s all very easy to correct. The steering is as precise as a Playstation controller, the levels of grip are immense, and the front wheels instantly kick in to provide the required amount of grip. It all happens so effortlessly that even an inexperienced driver will find the confidence necessary to throw this thing hard into a corner without fear of understeering into a ditch. The Verdict At this point, you’re probably wondering if the Tesla Model Y is worth your money. I’m going to say that yes, on many levels, this thing is worth every penny, even if it’s expensive. But you also need to know what you’re getting into when buying a Tesla. I say this because, in my immediate orbit, I know two Tesla Model 3 owners who are victims of bad paint, and Tesla is currently doing nothing to help them. Imagine the frustration of paying nearly 50 grand for a luxury sport sedan only to see it shed its skin the following spring.I do hear, however, that Tesla’s aftersales service is improving, and that appointments with service rangers—essentially Tesla repair people who come straight to your home—are made quickly and without too much hassle. I hear they even fix panel gaps. But don’t expect Lexus levels of craftsmanship, here. Tesla still has a lot of homework to do in this regard. But the truth of the matter is that nobody, and I mean nobody, currently sells something that directly competes against a Model Y. And that’s a little worrying for the rest of the auto industry. The phrase "Tesla-killer" or "Tesla-fighter" has been common in headlines about legacy automakers and startups alike; still, no one has come at this king yet.Perhaps Ford has a chance with the Mach-E. At least, on paper, it seems like a viable contender. But could it be too little too late? I mean, Tesla sold over 160,000 Model 3s in the US alone last year. Can this oddball Mustang be any sort of a volume-seller the way the Model Y is destined to be? I find that unlikely. But if anything, it’s only the start of things to come. When Nissan unveiled the Ariya electric crossover last month, I remember saying “finally, something innovative from Nissan!” for the first time in years, but then I was highly disappointed by its release date of late 2021 on our market. And don’t get me started on the Cadillac Lyriq. After months of shoving down our throats that its “innovative” Ultium battery would be the Android answer to Tesla’s Apple, GM unveiled an odd-looking concept car with unofficial range numbers and no actual specifications. Worse even was when Cadillac said all we’d only see the damn thing in the flesh in three years. Three years, GM. Really?You see, what the entire auto industry needs to understand with its EV promises and shady concept cars is that Tesla is here now. Tesla is selling. And Tesla is ahead. And the more it waits before releasing its products, the harder it’ll be for them to take on what was not long ago just a little California startup. Font: The Drive

[revealedglory]

The Appealing Apple

The Bible does not say exactly what fruit was on the tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden, but for the purpose of this blog, let’s suppose that it was an apple that the serpent enticed Eve to eat.

In Genesis 2:16 God warns Adam that he was not to eat of the tree of Knowledge of good and evil for he will surely die. When the serpent came along, he deliberately lured Eve into eating the forbidden fruit by making it and its benefits sound more appealing than intentionally disobeying God’s command.

This is the first time Satan used this tactic of disguising immoral acts as attractive or even irresistible, and it wouldn’t be the last. From the very beginning of time till this exact day, the enemy manages to convince the human race into sinful acts by making them appear innocent.

2 Corinthians 11:14 says that Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. As so, he disguises sin as irresistible innocence.

This is why it is imperative to die to our flesh daily (Galatians 5:24) and walk in the spirit. The enemy walks around like a roaring lion waiting to devour us, God’s creation. (1 Peter 5:8)

He despises man because we are made in the image of God.(Genesis 1:27) And he is doomed to an eternity in the lake of fire. (Matthew 25:41) He would do anything for as many of us to join him.

That’s why Satan convinced Eve to eat the apple, because it initially resulted in death.

We all have fell in Satan’s trap. The Bible says that we all fall short from the glory of God because we all have sinned. (Romans 3:23) Each one of us was destined to an eternity in hell, but I have good news for you my friend. Jesus died for us, he took our place on the cross, now death has no sting. If we believe that Jesus is our Saviour and that He is the Son of God, we will rise again and spend an eternity with Him.

Daniel 12:2 says, “And many of them that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.”

The choice is ours.

If you choose this day to accept and believe what Jesus has done on the cross for you, repeat the prayer below (by Pastor John Hagee).

“Lord, I confess that I am a sinner. I have sinned and today I ask that You forgive me of all my sins, both known and unknown. Father, I ask that You accept me as Your won and write my name in the Lamb’s Book of Life. I acknowledge that Jesus Christ, Your Son paid the price at Calvary for my salvation. Because of the Blood of the Cross, I am now forgiven and redeemed. My sins are buried in the sea of forgetfulness, never to be remembered against me anymore. From this day forward I will read and obey Your Word. I am now a child of God, a son of the King, and Jesus Christ is the Lord of my life. Amen.”

If you said that prayer for the first time and actively made the decision to make Jesus your Savior, you have made all in heaven rejoice. And your life will never be the same ⛅️

[exquisitelyeco]

Who REALLY knows best.....

Often I think I know best. After all, it’s MY life isn’t it? Except when I look back over it, I see, I clearly didn’t know what was best! Most of my choices were made ‘out’ of myself, or to put it in other words, out of my pain, anger, fear, hate etc. I thought it was ME, and that was a good plan. But the reality was it was a terrible plan! But when it comes to my life, what do I do when GOD wants to control it? Run! Why should God know more about me? Why on earth should I trust him? He allowed me to be abused, didn’t He? Well, He certainly didn’t stop it. But……. In a way, those where things done TO me. And as I have suggested in other posts, although I do not understand WHY God didn’t stop it, I DO know it’s was not Him that did it. It was other humans, who actively chose to do what they wanted to do to me. But my choices, that I made and make myself? That is a different subject altogether. In my mind, when Adam and Eve sinned, had they been left in the garden, they would have the same human choice I would have done. It made ‘common sense.’ I would have gone and then eaten of the tree of Life. Surely that would have made me better? Surely, having eaten of the tree of the knowledge of Good and evil, whose consequence to eat was death, the tree of life would have saved me? (Wow……and Incredible sentence! Soooooo long…..) It would have balanced the equation? I bet for ever after, till they died, Adam and Eve cursed themselves for NOT thinking of that. But would it have helped? Why DID God remove them, specifically saying the way must be barred forever to the tree of life? So vehement was God in His decision of this, He actually commanded a Seraphim to guard the way with a flashing sword, to KILL anybody that tried to get in (The garden must have had a fence round it! He never mentioned that……..) Was that Gods revenge? Determined to let humans die, to punish them for their sin? No, It wasn’t and no, He didn’t.

God knew, unlike us, that the fruit of the trees both had to fulfil what they were created for. One gave knowledge, at the expense of death and one gave life for free. But one could not cancel out the other. If Adam and Eve had used their ‘new’ understanding, which was not understanding at all, they would have been at the mercy of Satan for ever. The reasoning of the mind once darkened was foolish. That is why God said He ‘Makes the ways of the wise foolish, and the foolish things to bring to nothing the things that are.’ In this world our intellect is blinded by sin. Our motives unclean. We see through ambition, greed, lust. What do I mean? Well, to see profit in forcing the entire world to pay for water or air, which is natures gift is to be blind to ambition and only see ambition. Yes, we need to pay for water cleaning! But for a corporation to buy up all the worlds water supply, to sell it back to humans is evil. Pure and simple. To create seeds, that nature made, so we could regrow things, but to create, genetically grown seeds, that do not regrow but die, is again, blindness of ambition. And greed. Which will cause poverty and death to those who cannot afford to pay. Lust? To think that we can have better, so to leave families and tear them apart, just for a shag. Then realise we got it wrong, or get upset when our children suffer because of it. My dad never got over his mothers selfish choice to shag somebody else and then be made to make the choice to abandon him. Which she did. I do not say this to condemn ANYONE. My own choices have been to selfish and corrupt. I say it as an example of what one persons decision, when they thought they ‘Knew best’ actually turned out to be the worst decision they ever made! (Although, if she hadn’t, I'd not BE here……so maybe I is a bit pleased she did….Or God just made something wonderful happen out of that whole shitty situation……) Dads mum did not want to sign the adoption form. But she chose her husband, after her lover relationship went wrong, and he would not accept the baby, my dad. So when she refused to sign the adoption certificate, my grandmother took her to court and forced her too. That choice is still reverberating down my bloodline, even now…..

So mostly, our choices are made for what WE decided are in our best interest. Usually at the cost to somebody else! ‘I know, best!’ But in the garden, that decision would have been fatal! The tree of life would have brought eternal living death! The fruit could not cancel out the consequences of the other tree. But it had to fulfil its own fruit, which was to give life. And as death was already the diet of Adam and Eve, the tree of life would have made that death ‘living’ sin, disease, never ending. Forever. Remember the vampire films? Where they live forever, but with all the damage and scars, every time they get hit by light? Imagine that for eternity. What would we look like? A hideous, deformed, sin heavy, mockery of who we should have been. And THAT is why God removed Adam and Eve from the garden. Because He knew He was going to give them that option, but a little differently. He understood the rules, in a way no human can whilst they are in a darkened world, without Him. In fact I personally believe that is what WILL be the consequences for any of us who do not choose God. A living death. With all the diseases and mind games and twisted, warpness of who we have chosen to be forever. And that is what would have been, for us all, of God had not stepped in. In fact, how many of us are already living hell here? In situations we hate, and despising and fearing ourselves….but there IS a solution….,

You see, He KNEW neither fruit could cancel out the other. He knew we had eaten the wrong one, so now we could never think straight. Because He was not in control of our lives now. That’s not the right words to use actually, Not that He ever wanted control. He wanted relationship. WE wanted control, which is why we chose the apple. He just wants us to want Him, simple. So we ate the apple, to GAIN knowledge, but without understanding, because we stole part of the knowledge and did not go to the source OF the knowledge, Himself. So we got what we chose. Knowledge but without the light (understanding) in it. We could do to each other, just what WE wanted. And in a dog eat dog world, that is just what we do too. The fittest survive, at the cost of the weak. So Jesus, in effect became the Tree of Life. To give us the choice AGAIN. Which fruit do you want? Do you want the fruit of your own choices, without me, or do you want the fruit of MY choice for you? Which do you think, ‘knows best,’ for you? So when we choose to accept Christ we are really giving UP our choices. And choosing to trust His! This is a journey. A life time of dying to our own choices and learning to live in His. Is this crazy? Do we lose ourselves? Hell yes! But not in a negative way! If we have come to Christ, it is BECAUSE we have seen that our way was NOT the best way! God does not force the issue….well..only sometimes…..But in our fallen state, we hate to give up any form of OUR independence. It’s up to ME…..I THINK…..I WILL, it’s like C. S. Lewis commented. When we stand in front of Gods throne, the question will be, Is it My will, or THY will, be done? Because that choice is only ours to choose.

But God is a crazy Being! And at times a bullying sadistic git! Well, I know you don’t have money and the bailiffs are coming….just wait…Whaaat? Or, I know you need that letter by 28th and it’s now the 27th, just wait….Hey?????? Gods idea of trust, is just that! ‘Total annihilation’ as Lou said in the movie Cats and Dogs! No, really. Total trust, even when it all looks doomed to failure. WHY? Because that shows His glory! And the waiting shapes us into His children. It makes the ‘wise’ things of this world look foolish and in doing so clearly shows God IS. And it delights God, that in the midst of the storm, we don’t look down, but look up! We walk on water, with Him, not in our own UNDERSTANDING but HIS! Unfortunately most of us do not like giving up free will. So God, will use ANYTHING He can to help….the swine. ANYTHING. You see God has NO pride when it come to us. He wants us safe and saved. Simple. And if that causes us embarrassment, well, He just does not care. Because it’s about our learning that He knows best. That our Embarrassment will be our UNDOING, because of our control at trying to avoid it. Or our decisions, without Him are made in a skewered way, and have a tendency to get us, or others, or both into trouble! Because our reasoning is not done in light, but in confusion and darkness. So what God does, when He allows us to get into ghastly and horrible situations that get us exasperated, angry or anxious, in our lives, is actually making us grow, if we choose to do it His way. Allowing us the choice to let go of fear, anxiety and confusion in the face of HUMAN reason, and trust Him. That His preposterous treatment of us is actually for our good!

No wonder He lives up there…….just wait God……I feel like Dirty Harry, right now……God wants to rescue us! He wants to bless us! But we also have to choose to allow Him to be himself! We so want Him to be Mary Poppins! Or a hard task master. And when that doesn’t fit, we have a hissy fit. Imagine if your child kept trying to make you into something you weren’t. So, for example, you LOVE coffee. But they decided, No, you don’t. And they KEEP forcing you to have squash, how would you feel? Affronted. Let me be ME! This is how IAM……or how HE is…..get it? And God is just plain weird in the way He does it. Really. He turns EVERYTHING on its head. He loves a mess. Because when we trust Him, even in the midst of our chaos, it shows the universe that God IS. Because it allows Him to SHOW Himself Act! And that ripples the pond! And by rippling the pond, it shows the evil in this world that its on a count down. And also gives those stumbling in darkness a glimpse of light, that they too, can go to, if they want too. It brings the things that are, to nothing! The bible said a wicked man is like a great tree, growing so large the whole world can see it, then suddenly it is gone. How many times is that proved true? Hitler, Stalin, Ivan the Terrible, Nero, Caligula, and they are just world leaders. We all have a ‘Tree’ often more than one, in our life (Losing a home, for example, a nasty neighbour, a bad relationship, the loss of a job etc, are all kinds of ‘tree’….)and all we can see is that bloody tree. It looks like that tree will kill us. But you know what? To God that tree is not even a fly. Not even a gnat. And when we give Him control, suddenly, that tree will be gone.

Because Jesus is THE tree! He overcame the choices about the tree of Good and evil and He IS the tree of life! If we let Him be….we have to learn from Him. To allow God to use that tree, we are struggling with, as He will, to our benefit. It’s when we abandon all our hope in OUR solutions, and trust God for His, even though it’s all dark, that God then does the outstanding. That leaves both Him and us glorious. So, although the world laughs and mocks, the best person to be in charge is not in this world, but He, who made it…..

[woodworkingpastor]

The Struggle for Humility Genesis 39:1-23 September 23, 2018

Call to Worship        based on Philippians 2:5-8 and Hebrews 12:1-2

We are called to be followers and imitators of Jesus, letting the same mind be in us that was in Him.  

Jesus did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross.

Humility cuts against the grain of our human nature. We are in need of Jesus’ help and the support of one another to walk this path.  Yet it is our path to walk.

We pray for strength to lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, so that we may run with perseverance the race that is set before us. We look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

Our call to worship reminded us that humility was one of the key characteristics of Jesus’ life, a life we are called to imitate. In a world that is focused on self-promotion, where do we go to learn humility?

Joseph’s experience in Potiphar’s house gives us a lens through which to view humility.  As we go along, it will be important to remember to remember that the events in Genesis 39 are only one small glimpse—maybe a few months?—into Joseph’s life. They tell an important part of the story, but they are not the whole story. Joseph’s life is given to us in three episodes:

We first meet him in Genesis 37 where Joseph is an arrogant young man who knows he is his father’s favorite son—and this in a family that has played favorites for several generations! Joseph brags about being lord over his brothers as he shows off his “coat of many colors.”  The story ends with Joseph being sold into slavery in Egypt.

In the third episode we see Joseph after he has risen to power in Egypt, and it ultimately resolves the story of his life. Joseph is reunited with his family after a famine forces them to come to Egypt for food; when we might expect him to seek revenge against his brothers, he instead forgives them and invites them to live in Egypt.

But it’s the middle episode that is our focus for today; a story where we learn of Joseph’s success and trouble in Potiphar’s house.  After landing in Egypt, Joseph is bought by Potiphar to serve as a household servant. Potiphar quickly notices that Joseph is a hard worker, conscientious about his tasks, and that things seem to run better when he is in charge. It’s not long before Potiphar decides that his own life will be easier if Joseph is in charge of everything, so that’s how things come to be. But we know something that neither Potiphar nor Joseph know at this point: Joseph’s success is from God. “The Lord was with Joseph.”

But then we meet Potiphar’s wife, and things start to go badly for Joseph.  It is interesting to note in this #metoo era where stories of sexual misconduct are coming to light and—hopefully—perpetrators will be held to account, that this Scripture presents us with a story where a woman is the sexual aggressor and a man is the innocent victim.  Potiphar’s wife begins making unwanted sexual advances toward Joseph, and he consistently refuses her advances.  The Scripture even hints that he might have gone to some lengths to avoid being around her.

It was inevitable, though, that Potiphar’s wife would eventually corner Joseph into a circumstance he could not escape. Holding all the power (and Joseph’s garment) in this story, she can spin her version of events however she wishes.  Joseph had integrity, but no power, and he ends up in prison, falsely accused of a crime.

What is fascinating to me in all of this is the part of the story that we aren’t told, the transformation that happened to him in during the in-between time, when he was in the caravan as a slave on his way to Egypt. Something changes in Joseph.  He was once a young man who bragged that he would one day lord power over his brothers, something that in Joseph’s day was offensive beyond our comprehension. But by the time he gets to Potiphar’s house he has become a young man concerned that he neither offend Potiphar nor God.

In the long, humiliating silent times as a prisoner in the caravan to Egypt, Joseph found the integrity that enabled him to say “no” to Potiphar’s wife’s abuse of power, and he was willing to pay the price for that.  However difficult those days in the slave caravan were, something good and necessary and Godly happened to his soul. At the risk of over-interpreting this story, Joseph seems to have learned that being so arrogant to think we can compromise our integrity for momentary pleasure without damaging our soul is a dangerous act indeed. It puts us on a course where we might become that thing we once despised, justifying things we once opposed.

Even though Joseph didn’t do anything to his brothers that deserved being sold into slavery, his own arrogance was a significant part of the problem. But something about the humility of being completely powerless shaped Joseph’s soul in a way that was useful to God and to his family later in his life.  

We might wonder if the forced silence of the slave caravan gave him the chance to reflect on his own pride and arrogance, and how it impacted those around him.  

We might wonder if being separated from his father broke his heart in such a way that made him realize how much pain he had inflicted on someone he loved very much.

We might wonder if being removed from the stories of his faith caused him to cry out to the God who had promised to do wonderful things to all the world through his family line. What would become of Joseph?

While Joseph was on his way to Egypt, he had no way of knowing the answer to any of these things. But he chose to learn from his past mistakes and find a new way of relating to those around him.

In the humiliating silence of slavery, Joseph found that humility could be a powerful part of a new core identity.  It would take many years for Joseph to understand the true value of this transformation, but it would eventually bear fruit.

Joseph’s transformation begs a question: What practices do we have in our lives that cultivate humility in us?  It isn’t always a prison.

A significant part of the transformation in my life happened around a table somewhat like this one.  It’s a story that is nothing in common with Joseph’s, but one that I’d like to think has the potential for cultivating humility in my own life. Growing up, my extended family—grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins—met for family meals at my grandparent’s home.  When I was very young, all of the major holidays—Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—were celebrated around my grandparent’s dining room table.

When it came to creating a family dinner, Nannie was a craftsman as talented as any great musician, or painter, or furniture builder around.  She took great pleasure in setting a beautiful table, with the good table cloth, china place settings, cloth napkins, and silverware.  She would cook for hours: ham, turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans.  There would be apple pies and pumpkin pies for dessert.  All of this would be set up on the counter in the kitchen.  We’d go through the line, get our food, sit down, and before we’d hardly begun eating what we’d put on the plate the first time, she would start bringing things in from the kitchen to pass around for second helpings.  

But the most important item served at these meals—the one our family still talks about—was her stuffing.  Nannie adapted this recipe from one that her mother made, which means that this recipe is probably 75 years old, at least.  The story is told that Nannie’s brother Bruce used to come to family dinners and would only eat stuffing. Even though his place had been set, Nannie would just give him a bowl for stuffing and gravy.

This is probably the third or fourth story I’ve told you about my grandparents; you’ve probably figured out that my family played an incredibly important role in my life; I am who I am in large part because of their influence in my life.  I make this stuffing about once per year in large part because I miss them, and it’s a way that I can remember people who are very important to me.

But there is something else about this story that is important, though.  In fact, it’s more important.  What was on the table mattered because of the ones who set the table invited me to have a seat at the table. The traditions we have are important, but we don’t want to miss what the traditions point to.  I was shaped in significant ways by the conversations that happened at the tables, the way I was allowed to participate in the conversation around the table, even the way I was treated when I misbehaved at the table. As time went on, room was made for new faces at the table.  One of the things I learned at the table concerns some of those stories I’ve already told you about my grandparents—about how they made room at the table for some family members who had been estranged, and by extending the table down the road to a family member whose mental illness kept her from joining us. There is a humility both in swallowing your pride and extending forgiveness, and in going the extra mile to help someone who needs a bit extra care.

We have our own table at Oak Grove where we take time away from the routine to be together in the quiet so that we might cultivate humility in our lives.  Love Feast is that table.

Love Feast has a lot of traditions that make it what it is. We start in silence in the sanctuary then move in silence to the Fellowship Hall—the only times of the year when we’re quiet in the hallway! Kneeling to wash one another’s feet; the familiar smells of our meal, the texture and taste of the bread and cup. The faces of those who are gathered around the table, and the memory of the ones no longer present at the table. All of these traditions make important contributions to our evening together.

There is certainly a discomfort in Love Feast, especially in footwashing. We don’t normally touch one another’s feet, and maybe for some the handshake and hug and expression of love and affirmation pushes us beyond our comfort zone.  We can accommodate that to a certain degree.  We make handwashing available, in part because it is a bit more contemporary, and also because some cannot physically kneel.  

But in avoiding that discomfort of footwashing, we miss the opportunity to learn humility. It takes a certain humility to come to footwashing, knowing that you might up sitting next to, or across from, someone you’re angry with.  It takes a certain humility to come to footwashing when you know your own sin, and hope that no one else does. It takes a certain humility to come to footwashing to receive forgiveness, and leave church and head home assured of your forgiveness.  

We should never lose sight of the fact that Jesus knew that Judas had already made arrangements to betray Jesus.  The plan was already being enacted when Jesus washed Judas’ feet, and offered him the bread and cup.  

We should never lose sight of the fact that Jesus knew that Peter would betray him; and that all the disciples would flee.  

We should never lose sight of the fact that Jesus knew that the disciples disagreed on politics, and how to approach the problems of the day.  But they were all welcome at the table.

All are welcome at the table.  These traditions point to the grace given by the one who invites us, as well as the grace that transforms us.

Many of you are committed to our Love Feast because of the rich tradition, and I hope you’ll be here again this year to continue your own practice of humility and transformation.  Others of you haven’t been in a while, or maybe have never come. I hope you’ll come this year and grab on to as much as you can, so that we might cultivate humility together.