#i do not need to write a religious dissertation

[underwaterbanshee]

So I really feel like the first part of tonight's episode (fhjy 8) was a great reminder of what Cassandra went through as Galicaea's followers attempted to murder her the first time resulting in her transition into the Nightmare King. I wonder if that was when her partner was also murdered or if they did them dirty first just to see if they could.

Or if it was the other way around. I don't have a clear idea of when the Nightmare King happened, just when the demon was sealed into Lydia's chest and those could be three very separate and distinct events.

I personally believe Sol and Galicaea are at the very least complicit. It seems to me that while divinity can direct their domains, they are still influenced by their followers. And toxic followers can, at the very least, show up in toxic aspects of their gods? Maybe?

I may not care for Tracker's opinion and apology tour for Galicaea right now but I absolutely believe that the proverbial bitch in her lap is dangerous--not only to Tracker's goals, but to Kristen and Cassandra.

I cannot wait to learn more about Ravena, Lucy, and our Unnamed divinity. Also, let's meet some vultures, 'cause why not?

[neil-gaiman]

Dear Mr Gaiman,

First of all - thank you so much for all your work throughout the years. I admire your characters and stories, which accompany me since I can remember, and which have provided me with endless inspiration, as you will read below. I am thankful to have this opportunity to write to you on here, out of all the unexpected places.

Second of all - I am working on my PhD in literature at a Polish university and I am writing my dissertation on the contemporary depictions of the satanic figure (so all the Satans and Lucifers and other demons) in TV and literature. A lot of the material I would like to include in my analysis is either written or co-written by you or adapted from your characters. I was wondering - just shooting my shot here - whether you would be available for a short written interview solely for the purpose of my study. I could wait as long as needed; I would love to hear about the inspirations behind your demons, particularly about their connection to the occult and religious, but even about the choice of their appearance. I believe your commentary would be an invaluable source. Please let me know what do you think about it, on private or public.

Kind regards, Jacqueline

That's such a lovely request. And I'm really flattered to be asked, but in my head helping people with their theses kind of counts as doing their homework. (I know all the ways it's not. But long ago, the first time it ever happened that someone asked me for help with their thesis, I wrote extensive and well-thought out replies to a large number of questions someone sent me. And when they sent me their finished thesis I realized with horror that I'd written about a quarter of it. And decided I wasn't going to do that any more.) Best of luck with your thesis, I'm sure it will be wonderful.

[stuckinapril]

i saw ur post on how there isnt rlly a big arab figure, and wow like. i think that if i had been younger and saw just one or two arab people on tv in a positive way, it would have helped me a LOT. like yeah. There ISNT a big singer or character or actor or model that’s arab. And now im sitting here wondering how many kids are going to be sitting and watching tv and just blocking out their arab heritage and culture because then they wouldnt be like their favorite singer or wtver.

Exactly. Exactly exactly exactly. I’ve full chest said this before, but I wasn’t always as attached to my Arab heritage as I am now. I actually grew up pretty distant from it all around, and it’s only in recent years that I started making a concerted effort to delve into it. And I can’t even blame it on my mom tbh, like I grew up in a lax household that allowed for ample self-expression. It was always the outside world that would make a little Arab girl like me question the worth of her ethnic roots—especially when Arabs are painted as terrorists at worst and as monocultural heathens at best where I’m from (hint: the USA). There is so much to unpack w being raised American but being ethnically Iraqi!! Because that means I literally hail from two countries!! A country that’s thirsty and a country that’s on fire!! But that’s a whole other loaded topic I could write a separate dissertation on.

I’d always have toxic thought loops like “I don’t look Arab enough” “I’m not religious but all the Arab girls I know are Muslim” on and on and on. And like I said in that ask, there was never an Arab American A lister for me to kind of have a frame of reference w. This is specifically an Arab issue too I feel like, bc a lot of brown people do have that star-studded figure to look up to growing up. We do not.

It’s kind of why I decided to be that for myself. I don’t need a cool Arab girl celebrity who’s into fashion or music. I’ll be that. I don’t need an Arab academia girl character. I’ll be that too. There’s no such thing as not looking Arab enough bc Arabs are so diverse. It’s okay that I’m not religious bc Arab culture is not solely defined by religion, and even if it were Arabs are not a hive mind and everyone engages w their culture in vastly different ways (which is okay!! It doesn’t make me any less Arab). I’ll literally just discard other people’s preconceived notions and trailblaze my own path!! I’ll be my own Arab girl representation. I refuse to fit myself into any preexisting mold. I like what I like and the rest just falls into place.

I think that’s why I’ve been so vocal about my Iraqi heritage lately… I’m literally healing my relationship w my roots in real time. Even advocating for Palestine is feeding into that in major ways. It’s legit all coming together for the first time in my life. Now I’m so proud to be Arab—to be Iraqi—that the idea that anyone could shame me for it is as incredulous as it is hilarious. Iraq is literally called the Cradle of Civilization & you want to make me feel BAD for being Arab… for being Iraqi… it’s just impossible bc I can’t imagine myself being anything else. I’m so content to have my multicultural background and to be who I am. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

It’s also cool that I have people following me, that they could also be exposed to diverse facets of Arab culture bc of that, but tbh a lot of this is also purely for me. I want the Iraq tag to be flooded w beautiful Iraqi poetry and beautiful Iraqi art and beautiful Iraqi cinema as I familiarize myself w Iraqi culture more and more, bc there’s so much more to it than the Iraqi War stats that pop up when you look it up on here.

I’m a 21 year old girl AND I’m Arab. That’s literally double the self-discovery to work through. Fortunately I think I’m finally cultivating a strong sense of self, so I really don’t think anything anyone has to say could deter me from my path (whether it be in terms of reconnecting w the beauty of my Arab heritage or legit just growing into my own). It’s not always perfect by any means, but I’ve made so much headway. And absolutely nothing could take away from that.

[aritany]

what's the origin story for dgdss? if you don't mind 🥺

oho! well. as it happens, i love telling this story.

if you want to know how my childhood best friend writing a short story about me ended up leading to me getting a big 5 book deal, read on.

tw for reference to self harm and some...... unpleasant commentary (not mine) about it later on, folks.

so.

i was homeschooled until my very last year of high school (yes, like mean girls, except my mean girl dominated the first 15 years of my life and that last year was just blissfully chill) and like many homeschooled children, i was a part of a co-op.

cool, right? it's like School Lite™ where you put a group of feral children in a classroom, except you're all varying ages and grade levels, and also, nobody in the room is an accredited teacher, and nobody seems to have an issue with this.

my mom and her mom were best friends, and we were born around the same time, so naturally, we were best friends too from birth, and we were part of the same co-op all through my elementary and junior high school years.

anyway. i won't air all of the dirty laundry regarding our early friendship, because the whole book deal thing doesn't touch it, and i also think there's no need to be pointing out the behaviour of an Actual Child in retrospect. all you need to know is that we were best friends, our relationship was fraught, and by the time we hit 12-13 it was to the degree that people started telling me, hey man, this is Very Strange Behaviour and You Might Be A Victim, and i had to go do some introspection.

the introspection led to the general conclusion oh shit, but we stayed friends, because obviously. when you're 13, breaking up with a best friend is literally The End of the world, and anyway, there was a lot of good in there too, right?

right?

anyway, things took a turn when we were about 14. i struggled heavily with mental illness and self harm as a closeted religious teenager (who'da thunk?) and i confided in her about a small fraction of what was going on, because she was my best friend. i didn't tell her details, because even then i knew what i was experiencing was heavier than was probably appropriate to burden another kid with (and i stand by it!), but she knew the gist.

several Tense moments resulted, one of which was the day she pointed out self harm scarring in front of other people and asked me what happened, ran away, and refused to talk further about it, so i had to talk to her mom, who told me i should apologize to her, considering my mental health struggle had been so difficult... for her.

yeah, you know the type of people we're dealing with, here.

she was determined to undermine me in front of our mutual friends. anything to make me look worse, in one way or another. anything to step just a little higher. if i was interested in something, here's a public dissertation on why it's a dumb thing to be interested in. if i had a crush, forget keeping it a secret, and forget the notion that it's normal, because it's not, it's stupid, and shallow to have a crush in the first place. if we had a similar interest, here's a dressing down about how all i ever do is steal the things she likes (even if i liked them first).

needless to say, by the time the whole deal with the short story is going down a few short years later, we're on the rocks.

let me set the scene. we hadn't seen each other in several months, due to the On The Rocks of it all, and were meeting up for coffee while our moms were also getting coffee. hashtag classic homeschooled behavior, etc.

we're catching up, and she tells me she needs to apologize for something. i am, as you might imagine, agog, considering the rarity of apologies from this girl. she tells me she wrote a short story and submitted it to her university journal to be published, and that in hindsight she thinks she should have asked for my permission first.

i am, obviously, suspicious. to her credit, she gives it to me to read through and then leaves to go do christmas shopping. it's a muddy-ish faux-deep piece about a narrator who has a best friend struggling with mental illness and self harm.

(oh, you might say. to which i say, yeeeeah.)

in the story, the narrator depicts the struggle of trying to care about somebody who is in pain, referring to the best friend as 'cariad' the whole way through, which is just so weird i'm not even going to touch on it. google it if you'd like. the line that i still remember (and will probably remember until the day i die) is the one where she describes her cariad as feeling the need to use a razor as a microphone.

i honestly don't recall what i said when she eventually came back, but i contained all of the aggression of a piece of pocket lint at the time, so i imagine it was along the lines of oh. yeah, okay. [insert image of the saddest wettest cat you've ever seen]

i never saw her again. we went our separate ways, and that was that. we never talked about it.

(the one upside of it was that my mom, with whom i have a Notoriously Contentious relationship, was outraged on my behalf. that was the first (in many years) and last (ever) time we were on the same side of a battle, so, you know. silver linings.)

but the real indignity of it to me was that my friend never really knew. i never really told her about what was happening in my head. she never knew why i was hurting myself, or how bad it got, because i did everything i could to keep that to myself, and at the end of the day, she thought it was all for attention to the degree she wrote a transparently biographical account of it and chose razor as a microphone as a phrase on purpose.

dead girls started as a way to process the complicated feelings i had about that friendship and then obviously ultimately became a whole different creature in the process. i wanted to write about how it felt to go through that never having had another close friendship to compare it to, and how confusing and nauseating it was to have other people point out shitty behaviour.

it became about healing when you can't get closure. how do you move on when you'll never know why somebody hurt you?

nothing that happens in the book is based on real life events between us, partly because i'm not a hypocrite, and partly because if your work can be traced back to your personal experiences, perhaps you should do what you can to be kind.

'my julia,' as i like to call her (she is not named julia, because, oh my god) is nothing like julia hoskins in appearance or general personality. but the way she made me feel? oh, that's all there. nora feels it the way i felt it.

i wrote dead girls back in 2020, and got agented with it in 3 weeks of sending my first query. we got a book deal for it with a penguin random house imprint 1 year later to the day, and next week it's going to be out in the world, and i'm not going to lie, it feels really damn good.

also, her short story got rejected by her university, because it was bad. so you might lose some, but you win some, too.

[fachefaucheux]

WriteFest! // Day 1 + Goals

It’s that magical time of year again! You know, the one where amateur writers all across the internet take on stupidly ambitious word count goals and drive themselves batty trying to reach them. I am no exception.

I’ve been doing word count goal challenges during the last two months of the year off and on since 2001 (really dating myself here, eh?). And despite all the terrible business that’s been going on with the most infamous one, I’m not going to quit a two-decade long habit just because other people are asshats. 

The OG Word Count Challenge helped me write my first “novel” Way Back In the Day, actually. That story was a bizarre fever dream about a guy who found a nuclear warhead in the supply closet of the care home he was working in…and getting rid of it required him to go undercover as vicar and infiltrate MI6??? Obviously, that didn’t end up going anywhere. But you can see glimmers of the same tried-and-true plot devices in it that I’ve been using ever since: a mix of action and humor, the fantastic and bizarre, shady con men pretending to be religious authority figures. (I don’t know why fake priests seem to be a running theme across my stories. I blame Catholic grade school and an overactive imagination.)

Since I tend to favor quantity over quality, I’ve escalated over the years to usually setting my word count goal for November at the 100k mark. But this year, I’ve been confronted with a challenge too insane for me to resist! I do a lot of my drafting on a website called 4thewords that I discovered nearly two years ago (great site, tbh, I highly recommend it to anyone who is more productive when they gamify their life), and this year, they’ve raised the challenge bar to a whole other level. For this year’s WriteFest, the top goal is to write 250k in 44 days. That’s roughly 5,700 words a day, for those of you who don’t feel like whipping out your calculator app.

So, of course, I had to do it.

Is this a good idea? Probably not. Am I still going to try my hardest? You’re goddamn right.

But I am cheating juuuuuust a little. I’m not doing it all on one WIP. This year, I’ll be working on completing Mushroom Picking Season (maybe 20k left? hopefully), the first volume of Canticle (if there’s more than 200k left on that, I’m totally cooked), and making a pitiful attempt at pushing my dissertation to the 25k mark, which is about halfway. (Yes! I do stuff other than write gay shit! My dissertation contains no gay lunatics, sadly. But it does contain an overabundance of (yugo)slavs.) Tally all those up, and you’ve got the 250k, with some wiggle room for just writing some unhinged smut to pad the total when I’m too tired to write anything semi-coherent.

As tradition dictates, I started on November 1st. Not at midnight, because I’m old and decrepit. But at six in the morning. And the results are in!

Day one, done and dusted. Total words: 8,226. For a brief moment, I’m ahead! Only 241,774 to go!

Of course, it’s the second now that I’m posting this. Once again, at six in the morning. I think I’ll try to snag another couple hours of rest before charging into the breach once more. Today’s goal is at least 6,000 words. But probably more, since I owe ya’ll an installment of Niv/Yule hijinks on Sunday. If I get really ahead this weekend, maybe I can even take a very small breather sometime this coming week. (I’m going to need it. For Reasons.)

Stay tuned to see how fast this project goes off the rails! (And snag a sneak peak at some writing snippets, if I’m feeling ambitious.)

[witches-pierre]

I recently have been getting back into divination and witchcraft as a means to try and unpack my rampant religious trauma. It’s been… a struggle to say the least. Some days are better than others, some days I get filled with an intense anxiety that maybe the god of my old religion will turn my life to hell for even daring to consider anything else.

But I now that’s not true; and that along with so many other ideas are so unhealthy.

That little dissertation out of the way; here’s a list of things I did recently that I’m proud of myself for doing. Cause we all need to be proud of ourselves from time to time; especially when dealing with trauma:

• Number one biggest thing! I’ve started doing shadow work! I’ve started to work through identifying my different triggers and it’s challenging to say the least. While I won’t get into it here let’s just say I’m not in the most accepting environment atm. So while I’m working to move out I’m hoping shadow work will allow me the mental clarity to survive just a little longer.

• I’ve managed to record my tarot readings somewhat often; sure maybe the longest I’ve gone is about 4 weeks between them but the fact that I had able to do it at least twice in one month is incredible by my standards! 

• Speaking of tarot; recently I’ve started to get better at interpreting the meaning of the cards outside of using books. I have about 3 tarot books that I read the meaning of my cards from (I like to get multiple perspectives) and recently started interpreting the cards myself, writing it down what I got and THEN consulting my books. More often than not my interpretations tend to lineup with the books. This is uber exciting for me since I have terrible memory and the fact it’s starting to stick makes me hopeful!

• I made my first oil; that being rose oil! And it’s been three months and it hasn’t gone moldy!! (Another incredible thing by my standards!)

• I made my first spell jar! (A protection jar of course) I usually stay within the realms of Knot magick, but I wanted to push myself a little further. I’ve spent months watching videos and reading books (both witchy and practical) about different herbs and ingredients used in this kind of spell work. Now the finished thing sits nicely in the corner of my room hidden from prying eyes.

• I figured out how to make my grimoire aesthetic looking! The key is, you don’t!

Well I mean, let me explain. I realized that the overwhelming pressure of making my writing look good was… overwhelming. So instead I use an old animal crossing themed notebook I got for my birthday. It takes a lot of the pressure off.

And I know what your thinking; Pierre that’s not really a solution! All the witch influencers always say that and then still have amazing looking grimoires anyway!!!

Well yeah; but here’s the kicker, that shitty little notebook that’s an unorganized mess where all your ideas go; that’s your working grimoire.

Think of it like a sketchbook; a place where all your incomplete thoughts and scribbles go. It’s okay to have it look messy cause it’s you learning. Write down work in progress spells; ideas, and the like.

That way when you come up with a spell that has results; or you feel like you’ve studied and gathered enough information on a topic; you comb over that information in that crappy little book; take the valuable bits and then take the time to put them in pretty little book.

I ramble to much about it already; maybe I’ll make a whole separate post on it. And if did it will be linked here

Feel free to join in with your list in the comments!

[imanes]

hi imane! i hope ur doing well <3 i just wanted to ask: what do you do during times of uncertainty? im a uni student abt to go on placement and I've been applying for part-time jobs that's centred around my field but to no avail sadly :/ i wanted to save up at least so i wouldn't stress during placement and everything's so overwhelming.. there are other external factors that's making me feel this way too like a friendship break-up i had few months ago and its affected me quite badly but im starting to pick myself up again. anyways sorry for the rant and i hope ur day is lovely x

hey! just sat down after hours of procrastination to work on my dissertation and i wish i were done already akjdkfgj but it could be worse!! ok it's gonna be long and probs unhelpful but i know that you wanted to vent more than you thought i was holding some solution so I'll just ramble and hope something resonates with you lmao <3

for me uncertainty makes me feel like my life is in shambles, it's hard to cope with things going south and not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel but during my yearly flop era in march/april i had a talk with a friend who's much older, wiser, and more experimented, and basically it helped me put things into perspective and learn how to let go. there are only so many things that you can control so i split my different issues into different categories for a more systemic approach to my problems lol: things that i can actually somewhat control (my emotions, my reactions, my efforts, what i can do moving forward to alleviate some of my stress), things that are out of my control (how people misconstrue me, external stressors like shitty coworkers, refusals from jobs i was applying for) and things (and people) that i don't need in my life. learning to let go of things for me internationally infamous control freak was not easy but it was liberating, idk if you're religious so if you aren't the next part isn't going to be helpful lol but i don't think i should be chasing things because i am exactly where i am meant to be, and if i start clutching at the things that aren't meant to be in my life, it's just my ego getting in the way, and i prayed that Allah just lets me find the place that i would fit better in and that He'd take me away from it if i wasn't going to be doing or feeling good there. i guess the non-religious version would just be to trust the process and understand that things in life wax and wane, whether it be job opportunities or relationships. obviously there's like a plethora of other factors like what do i do if i can't pay the bills and stuff? that was how i was thinking just a couple of months ago when my dissertation was not writing itself and nobody was hiring me! but a few weeks have passed and looking back on it i was starting to chase things again and it made me feel like i was stuck in a rut when in fact it's normal for things to take some time to settle down and for opportunities to arrive.

so basically whether you stress about it or not, literally nothing is going to change except the way you frame it in your head. for me i just continued applying and gave interviews my all while also being detached enough to simply trust myself to find the space that i was meant to occupy eventually, and after many many many rejections i finally found something a week ago, but it took a couple of months of steady job application to get there. looking from the other side of the mirror it's easy to say things like "don't get discouraged!" but it is true that if you keep throwing shit at a wall something's going to eventually stick, hence the power of consistency and of never giving up.

i'm glad you're slowly building yourself back up after your friendship break-up, i know how much it can drag you down but again some people are meant to be with you for a season only and at the end of the day with the effect of time making things more bearable and by working on your self-esteem and knowing that you can do things that you set your mind to, whether it is finding a part-time job or picking yourself back up, in a few weeks you're gonna look back on where you were mentally at when you sent me this message and where you'll be then and you'll thing "well i guess things DO pass huh who would've thought!!" lol life is a cycle of stability and unsteadiness, doesn't matter how much you prepare something's always going to go sideways but another truth is that things fall back into place again and you have to have faith in that, in yourself, and maybe in something else like i am w/ my relation to religion if u need extra help. speaking of help if you have a support system, confide in them and let them carry some of that weight for you!! you'd do the same for them so don't feel like you're a burden for needing help when you are facing instability. wishing you the best of luck and i really hope you find a good part-time job before your placement babe

[ettelwenailinon]

Tag game to better know you

I was tagged by @b1uetrees, thank you!! thank you ☺️💚💚💚

what book are you currently reading?

uuuuuuhhhh many books relating to my dissertation, one that has been very enjoyable and well written that I want to finish after is jacobites: a new history of the '45 rebellion. from fiction books I've been reading the song of achilles since last september, I'm Busy okay 😭

what’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year?

I have not been to a cinema in years 😂 but I am going to go and see the barbie movie after my deadlines dtcgtbzh

what do you usually wear?

a shirt (the puffier the sleeves the better), a big skirt, kneehigh stockings, potentially some sort of vesr

how tall are you

recently got measured and 159 cm, 5'2.5'', short king ✌️

what’s your star sign? do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

aquarius!! and I had no idea but apparently I share my birthday with lord byron 👀 (probably where my love for puffy sleeves comes from)

do you go by your name or a nickname?

I go by a domestic version of my name as my legal name is too long and I hate it dftgzgzgz

did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

there's always work to be done but I'm happy where I am :)

are you in a relationship? if not, who is your crush if you have one?

@uighean is my girlfriend and we're getting ever so closer to finally live together!! ❤️

what’s something you’re good at vs something you’re bad at?

uuuuuuhhhh good at art (maybe) and bad at. sports. and maths. and breathing.

dogs or cats?

I love both but to have, cats

if  you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite  picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this  year?

honestly all the work I've done on my dissertation so far but I can't post it here because I want to keep my professional and private life separate and I do not need people finding my tumblr where I can just be a freak dkfkdkkdk

in terms of fanart, probably this one

what is something that you’d like to create content for?

I mean. beyond evil, when I have the time 😭

what’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

my dissertation and the meow meow from my histories to the point that I tried to find historical rpf do not @ me

what’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

when I was supposed to go to a museum to take photographs of an object for my dissertation but the day prior I got a message from them that they can't open the safety case it's in, resulting in me loosing £45 because it was too late to cancel the bus and then it took them a month to get a locksmith and they didn't even manage to open it but I was waiting and was stuck with my work 🤡

what’s a hidden talent of yours?

well, it's called hidden for a reason 😅

are you religious?

not in an existing religion sort of way though I was raised casually catholic

what’s something you wish to have at this moment?

money, a place to live with my girlfriend and a phd position with a full scholarship or my dream job dftvttvvyvyyh

and I tag @uighean , @doctor-punkenstein , @hanjuwonsupporter , @fire-burning-brighter , @tiffanylamps and anyone else who wants to do this, no pressure 💜

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Ryan Burge

Published: 26 Jan, 2024

One of the most challenging aspects of this job appears simple to those who haven't done it before: crafting survey questions. It’s such an impossible task, especially when you are trying to develop new measures that haven’t been used before in other surveys. To put this in some context, I met with a team of three graduate assistants every other week for an hour for the entire Fall semester just to get a survey in shape to be rolled out to a select group of early reviewers. Sending out that first draft is nerve-wracking because you know that many aspects won't work and will need adjustments or removal. It's akin to typing into a Google Doc, and a collaborator logs in, leaving you feeling vulnerable.

Over Christmas break, I had sent the test link out to some folks that I really trust and I know that they will provide some excellent feedback. I was not disappointed. Our research team met earlier this week to review the feedback and make some changes; we all agreed that this moved us closer to a finished product.

But there’s one comment that I received that I have been thinking about a lot. There's a section of the survey that inquires about spirituality and spiritual practices. Most reviewers had the same critique: they wished for a clear definition of spirituality within the survey. I get that impulse. I really do. But, I don’t think I’m going to be able to do that for a simple reason: 

I don’t know that our team could write a definition of spirituality that most people would agree with. It’s very much “in the eye of the beholder.” 

However, I may actually understand spirituality a bit better now thanks to some recent data posted on the Association of Religion Data Archives (ARDA) that was funded by the Fetzer Institute. The National Religion and Spirituality Survey, conducted in late 2022 with a total sample size of 3,651, provided valuable insights into how people perceive the words 'religious' and 'spiritual’.

I know it’s a cliche when I write this, but in this case it’s true: I honestly understand the world a little bit better after doing this data work. It absolutely sharpens my understanding of the religious/spiritual world and how the average person relates to both those concepts. 

There was a question battery at the beginning of the survey that listed a whole bunch of terms (13 in total) and folks were asked if that word described spirituality to them. Then they were given the same list of terms and asked if those described religion to them. It offers a peek behind the curtain of how these words are understood in the general population. 

The general consensus that emerges is that people tend to associate many words with spirituality, but fewer terms describe religion. For example, eight of these terms clearly describe spirituality more than they describe religion: clarity, inspiration, love, peace, purpose, transcendence, transformation, and wonder. And in many cases the percentage difference between religion and spirituality is pretty large. It’s thirteen points for peace (68% vs 53%). It’s eight points for love (55% vs 47%) and seven points for inspiration and clarity. The most chosen terms here are peace, love, and inspiration. 

In contrast, there are only a few terms clearly associated with religion: belonging (35% vs. 29%), structure (32% vs. 22%), and values (51% vs. 47%). Eight for spirituality and three for religion. The words that are most likely to be associated with religion are peace, values, and love. Only 17% of folks say that transformation and wonder describe religion, just 12% say that transcendence is a part of religion. I feel like there’s an entire dissertation to be written about that. 

But how do religion and spirituality work together? Folks were asked, “How spiritual are you?” and then were asked, “How religious are you?” They were given four response options ranging from “not at all” to “very.” What I think is fascinating is the result when you put those two questions into a heat map. 

Just 9% of the population identified as both very religious and very spiritual. The most common response was that they were both moderately spiritual and moderately religious, with 23% in that category. In contrast, 12% of the sample said that they were not at all religious and not at all spiritual. Clearly the diagonal line across the middle of the heat map was where most people found themselves - these four squares represent 56% of the sample. 

Only .2% of folks said that they were very religious but not at all spiritual. In contrast, 3.2% were very spiritual but not at all religious. One throughline that I see is that there are lots of people who are not religious but somewhat spiritual, but the opposite is much less prevalent. Almost everyone who says that they are religious also says that they are moderately or very spiritual. It’s almost like spirituality doesn’t need religion but spirituality is an essential part of religion.  

One question I had when I started looking through these questions was: are young people more likely to embrace spirituality and reject religion? And are older folks more attracted to religion and less to spirituality? There’s a decent sample size here so I can answer these questions. 

Among the youngest adults, slightly less than half claimed to be moderately or very spiritual, while the share for religion was about ten percentage points lower. These trends remained relatively stable from ages 18 to 40, with a persistent ten-point gap. But then both lines began to slowly drift upwards among those in their forties and fifties. The share who say that they are moderately/very spiritual moves up to about 50% around 50 years old. There’s also an upward movement among those who say the same about religion.

But then the lines basically flatten off again - from 55 years old all the way to 75 years old. Even among the oldest Americans, spirituality is embraced more than religion. Among those who are 70 years old about two-thirds say that they are moderately/very spiritual and around 55% say they are moderately/very religious. So, spirituality is clearly more popular across the board. And it’s really fascinating how that gap is basically the same size across the entire age spectrum. 

I wanted to end this piece by analyzing a series of questions about whether spirituality or religion has any bearing on how people act in the real world. For instance, folks were asked how much they agreed with this statement, “My <Religion or Spirituality> Impacts My Political Views.” Response options ranged from strongly disagree to strongly agree. 

Just 13% of people strongly agreed that religion impacted their political views, while it was 16% for spirituality. Thirty-eight percent agreed that spirituality influenced their political views, compared to 30% for religion. Folks were 21 points more likely to strongly disagree with the statement “religion impacts my political views” than strongly agree. That’s not a small difference. For the spirituality question the difference was only ten points (26% vs 16%). 

But, how about their political activity like protesting, attending campaign events, etc? The same kind of gaps emerge here, too. 

The most common response for the statement, 'My Religion Impacts My Political Activity,' was strongly disagree at 37%, with only 10% strongly agreeing. In total, people were twice as likely to disagree as to agree (47% vs 24%). Spirituality fares just a bit better. Nearly a third of the sample agreed that their spirituality impacted their political activity while 37% disagreed. But big chunks of the sample neither agreed nor disagreed with each statement. It just doesn’t feel like religion or spirituality are motivating folks to get engaged in the political process. 

I wanted to show you all one more question that used this format, but this time it was the impact of spirituality or religion on civic engagement which is activities like volunteering their time for a nonprofit or donating to charity. 

Again, a similar pattern emerges, with spirituality driving civic engagement more than religion. In terms of religion, 28% said it drove their civic engagement, while for spirituality, it was 34%. A third of the sample strongly disagreed that religion drove their volunteerism, it was only 25% who said the same thing about their spirituality. Across the board, it’s spirituality that seems to be doing more work than religion. 

There’s a belief out there that spirituality tends to be more selfish than religion. For instance, things like meditation and yoga are more individualistic practices. Meanwhile, religious practices (especially corporate worship) are outwardly focused toward engaging not only with the rest of the religious body but also the community at large. 

But in a great paper published in 2022, Jaime Kucinskas and Evan Stewart tested this hypothesis and what they found largely comports with what I just showed you in the last three graphs. Spirituality is not necessarily selfish. Instead, they argue for what they call, “substituting spirituality.” They describe it this way, “spiritual practice (works) as a substitute for religious engagement among groups alienated from religious institutions, with the former capable of fostering similar proclivities for political action as the latter.” 

I think almost everyone in the United States has heard the term Religious Right, but that seems to be anachronistic given the changing spiritual landscape of the 21st century. It’s not religion that drives political engagement, it’s spirituality. 

==

An obvious question needs to be, "what is the point of religion, then?"

[thebindingofpillo]

Talk about your babygirl (Judas) more, a treat from me to you (~ uwu)~

Judas my babygirl the blorbo supreme, thank you for asking about him because I have SO MUCH to say about the man. I’ve already talked about him (at length) in a different post some time ago, and while it’s a bit old, most of it still kinda holds up. Anyway here’s even more stuff about him (AND A WARNING! MENTIONS OF SUICIDE BELOW!!) (this is gonna be very scattered too, I’m just gonna write stream-of-consciousness style)

Judas (or at least Judas in this current life) comes from a British family of middle-lower class. Both his parents died in a car accident when he was too young to really remember them, and he’s been living with his grandmother ever since. He’s always got a pretty terrible relationship with her. She was always the first to point out any flaws in him (perceived or otherwise) while being absolutely unbearable herself, never putting in the effort to ask for help while still expecting her grandson to drop everything and come to her every call and not speaking to him for days if he failed to do so. Suffice to say, they’re not really close as of right now.

Judas grew up an unbearable kid, considering basically everyone to be beneath him while at the same time being incredibly insecure. He found himself in middle school without a single friend, but he convinced himself that he didn’t need them anyway, so he buried his nose in every book he could find and patiently waited to school in general to be over. This is around the time he met Isaac and Magdalene, who apparently weren’t intimidated by his abrasive attitude and the three quickly became inseparable, with Judas even managing to grow up and not be a prick anymore. The trio stayed strong throughout highschool and college (when Azazel also came into the picture, but I’m not gonna delve into all of his relationships now). He’s currently working on his archeology degree, but kinda put his studies on hold to work so he could support Maggy’s writing. He’s a librarian.

Personality wise he’s… polite. Distant, even. He grew out of being a prick, but he still has a condescending aura about himself, like the whole world is bothering him on his lunch break. This is not true to his partners tho, who have first hand experience of the more chaotic and passionate sides of his personality. He’s also a pretty witty person, and oozes sarcasm from every pore, but doesn’t really like talking to people he doesn’t know, so only his close friends have seen him crack jokes and actually smile. With that being said, Judas would lay down his life for the people he loves, and the fact that in his first life on Earth he had a hand in the murder of his best friend eats at him immensely. So much so, that he usually cannot bear the guilt and usually ends his life before due time. Every single time. In the roughly 2000 years his soul has roamed the Earth, Judas has never reached old age. Belial is also a major factor in his suicides every time, and you can read more about him here bc this is getting long enough already lol.

Speaking of Belial, while not being overtly religious, Judas had a passing interest in the occult that kinda morphed into a quasi-hobby. He likes to collect weird artefacts, ancient tomes and the like, that he stashes in his studio, right next to his school books and dissertations. This interest of his actually meshes pretty well with his passion for ancient history, and he has written quite a few essays about the portrayal of demons, angles and God throughout the ages. He might have tried to use a Ouija board when he was a kid, but it never went beyond that. The only true dangerous artefact in his possession is the Book of Belial, a magical tome that seems to find its way to Judas every single life. He doesn’t even remember where he found it this time, maybe he’s always had it.

More stuff that I didn’t know where to put so you get it here lmao

He sounds incredibly posh when he talks. Dear old grandma thought his accent was too lower-class (and by extension, hers too, but she would never admit it) so she was quick to point it out every time he spoke and ridicule him. With time, she managed to beat it out of him, but his accent still comes out when he’s very stressed or angry. He hates it.

He is also freakishly strong, but as durable as a wet paper bag. He could easily punch a hole in a wall, but would shatter all of his bones in the process. Couple this with a sour attitude and a complete disregard for his own safety and safe to say he’s been in quite a few fights. He’s won some of them, even if he woke back up at the hospital a couple of times.

His hair loss is supernatural in nature, due to the influence of the BoB (and tied to his body being weaker and more fragile that a normal person’s). His hair started to fall out around highschoo, but it’s not a case of simple alopecia like Isaac’s, Judas is completely hairless, doesn’t even have eyelashes.

Cannot stand to have anything around his neck. He even stopped buttoning his shirts all the way up because it was too uncomfortable. Just the lightest touch on the neck is enough to trigger horrible flashbacks and send him into panic

Despite knowing both God and Jesus exist (and the devil too) he considers himself more of an agnostic. For him, knowing God exists and having faith are two completely separate things. This goes the other way too, he doesn’t really believe in Satan either. And if Azazel is to be believed, the guy sucks and isn’t really worth praise anyway.

Tea is also one of his interests. He could talk for hours about the right temperature for brewing and the like, and has to be physically stopped from filling the cupboard with nothing but tea.

Isaac is his best friend, he loves him like a brother. Seeing how things are going with Magdalene, they might even become brothers-in-law too.

Speaking of Maggy, the two of them started dating after highschool and are still going strong. They seem to gravitate towards eachother in every single life. Judas is convinced it’s because they lived in the same period, Maggy prefers to think it’s destiny and stuff like that.

[aqueeracademic]

morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 8:

season 2, episode 4, “Neverland”:

TW: episode is about child abuse

- there is nothing capable of preparing me for this episode

- these posts are very quickly becoming my reaction to the episode rather than an analysis of queer behavior and we all have to live with that

- i love that morse is in a choir but it also doesn’t make any sense to me that he would willingly engage in a group activity

- let alone when the group activity is inherently religious

- bro just made escaping from prison look easy

- morse is never gonna wear that scarf ever again 😐

- “bloody place turns my guts. bleach, sweat, boiled cabbage, and everything on tick. never-neverland.”

- i’m gonna write my dissertation about jakes

- the way that people just did absolutely nothing about child abuse in that period is absolutely wild to me

- “we’re not strangers, we’re coppers!”

- believe it or not, that does not make it better thursday!

- i need to pay attention to this episode

- because this is the one plot i could not get to add up the first time i saw it

- actively keeping notes below this as we speak

- the way morse huddled under thursday’s umbrella he’s so 🥺🥺🥺

- MORSE IS A MUNCHHHHHHHH

- munch activity

- i can’t blame him i’m also obsessed with monica

- the wintergreens are so annoying

- jakes is a fucking flirt with any man he’s in a ten mile radius of and i hate him for it

- also i love him

- wish i was him

- it’s all very complex!

- morse stopping to look at engagement rings 🫤🫤🫤

- strange is so embarrassing

- i’m obsessed with him

- jakes coming to morse with URGENCY to tell him about the kid

- childhood trauma bonds them and i will not elaborate

- jakes reaction to the guy pulled out of the water 🥲

- his actor does such a good job being subtle but intentional i’m obsessed

- morse has such a short temperament for people who are bad at their jobs and i respect it so much

- everyone shut the fuck up

- i feel PHYSICALLY SICK watching jakes meet deare

- the way his face just changes so completely is fucking sick.

- and morse being the only one who noticed the sudden change in him 🤮🤮🤮🤮

- ALSO jakes’ face when morse is discussing the origin of aldridge’s coat

- it’s like he’s terrified morse is going to figure everything out but he’s also desperate for morse to figure everything out

- his voice is so small i want to be DONE

- morse is so quickly able to tie it to blenheim vale i am obsessed with his brain

- “i didn’t stay in oxford to work under mcknutt”

- you TELL HIM MORSE

- comparing them to the lost boys in neverland is so insane to me

- because FIRST OF ALL the use of the word “lost” is devastating. not only were they ‘troubled’ when they were kids, making them undesirable and easy to get rid of, but it also implies that they would never feel safe or at home in their future ever again because of what happened to them at Vale.

- they are the lost boys because they were never granted security in childhood and therefore will never feel it as adults

- BUT ALSO.

- the idea that the lost boys are known and remembered for never growing up

- they never get older.

- none of them will ever move past their childhoods because of what happened at the Vale. they will never grow past it. they will never grow up.

- i am FUCKING SICK.

- morse thinks of the most normal thing he can imagine if he can’t be a cop because he thinks being a cop is all that makes him special

- “it’s what people do”

- morse, babes, YOU are not people

- county police being helpful for once

- morse hates old white men (not thursday) as a RULE and i respect him for it

- “oh, Jesus” “you alright?”

- ^jakes seeing that wintergreen is dead

- i’m ending it all

- everything about jakes in this episode is so fucking personal and he’s so deeply affected by everything and can’t show it

- deare is so sketchy and thursday is the only one who clocks it

- benny topling being the first time they see how messed up the kids are is so…….

- like do you think once morse realized jakes was there he put it together? like do you suppose he realized that jakes must be so traumatized he can’t even talk about it???? because i bet he put it together

- doorknobs in britain are way too high up

- why is it by her head

- they should be low

- like? where your hand is?

- jakes handling the beads 😀 i’m so normal about him i promise 😀

- “there were five or six of us, and Petey. Petey Williams…. Me, George, Benny, Ed, and the two Petes. Big Pete, little Pete.”

- “Little Pete what?”

- he’s figuring it out. i hate it here!

- they were FUCKING CHILDREN. THEY WERE KIDS. LITTLE KIDS.

- sometimes i think morse should be allowed to fucking murder people

- “One weekend, Big Pete went off, and we all knew where he’d gone, only this time he never came back.”

- the way they all tried to find him after they got out and never did 😀 i can’t handle this shit rn

- the fact that the fucking cops are helping cover it up i HATEEEEE it here

- props to dr fairbridge for not abusing them but also fuck him for never doing anything to help them

- bright needs to get OFF his high horse and listen to morse

- not a single person cares who you’re friends with! not a single person cares how high up or powerful they are! they are bastards and child abusers trying to cover up their crimes!!

- everyone say thank you frazil!!!

- fr keeping morse alive another day via the newspaper

- dying because morse recognizes that jakes is someone he can trust and therefore seeks him out to help him

- “little pete” 😧

- he’s so gentle when he says it i’m dying

- the way jakes leans across the table and reaches for morse

- i will #neverforgive morse for just LEAVING JAKES LIKE THAT

- i know you’re in a hurry and i know you need him to join you because you trust him

- but listen.

- you could have said ANYTHING to make him feel less guilty about what he did

- and less guilty about not being able to go

- he shouldn’t have just walked away

- angela did what she SHOULD have done and i support her

- she did what morse and thursday and jakes should all be doing tbh

- look, murder is wrong! but in this scenario it is the only. option.

- thursday gives morse the option to leave and tells him he won’t think less of him, while morse made jakes feel bad for not pulling through

- woah!

- they fr just shot him

- 0 warning

- that was crazy

- murdering a FRIEND in cold blood just to frame morse is so crazy

- “history is written by the survivors” so… not you?

- morse panicking when he hears the second gun shot 😭 i hate him but he’s so baby

- GO ANGELA GO

- NO ANGELA NO

- morse getting arrested and no one doing ANYTHING to help him is fucking insane

- bright just fucking stands there

- jakes 🥲

- he looks like a child in that shot of him

- because they’re the lost boys

- and they don’t get to grow up

- the three musketeers finally finding Pete’s body is my final straw

- you’ll all be glad to know that i understood the plot this time!

- i am no longer an idiot

[tuttle-did-it]

Every single police officer I meet in the US was a soulless. power-obsessed, racist, sexist, sadistic and cruel human. And they openly fantasised of getting to shoot a Black person in the face. A couple of them freely admitted that they jacked off to the idea of it. That this is why they became a cop. They were (are) monsters and they hope every day they get to find an excuse to shoot a person of colour, a transgender person or a disabled person.

Every single police officer who kills a person should be in prison for life. Especially if it is a hate crime— queer, mental or physical disabilities, is not white, or underage, of a certain political or religious persuasions, etc. And every cop who covers up for them should be in prison for life, too.

I’m very much of the opinion that prison should be focused on rehabilitation, not revenge. But after seeing the kinds of people who are cops there, I’m even more convinced that this must be the case.

I say:

Every cop who murders a person should be in prison for the rest of their lives, with potential for parole as I’ll explain. Whilst in prison, they are required to undertake education about their victim.

So, in this case, this Sean Grayson would get life in prison. In prison for a minimum of 10 years, no negotiation. First degree murder is the automatic base charge, hate crime is another charge. Other charges can be added in top. Time without parole increases exponentially with every charge.

In prison, he (and any other offenders of similar cruelties) will be required to take a university-level degree education on the systemic racism within the country, the mental health conditions Sonya Massey suffered from, the history of police brutality against people of colour, treatment of people of colour throughout time, white privilege, male privilege, connection between racism and sexism, etc.

He also has to have serious therapy for the entire time he’s there. If he cannot do this, he stays in prison until he dies.

If he passes the classes, does well with the therapist, writes a dissertation on case studies of how the system failed people like Sonya, how fucked up he was to do it, what should have happened/what someone in this situation must do next time, how fucked up the entire system really is, etc—then and only then can he apply for parole. The 10 years reset every time he pulls shit in prison like attacking someone, etc.

If he’s granted parole, he’s never allowed near any form of law enforcement again, or anywhere where he will be with vulnerable people. For the rest of his life, he’s registered as a criminal offender who can never possess a weapon of any kind. If he violates parole, gets involved with a hate group, does anything violent, etc he returns to prison for the rest of his sentences, no second parole.

He must pay financial retribution to the family person he executed. If they have no family, the retribution goes to organisations that would have helped his victim so they can help someone else before they get into the situation Sonya was. Yep, time to sell the boat you got from the extra time you were on paid leave after the murder and worked at another police station until the media stopped talking about the execution.

He would need to publish that dissertation as well. Every single law enforcement officer must read at least 5 of these dissertations every year to keep their jobs, and must attend seminars once every 3 months where former cop murderers/abusers come in and talk about everything they learned.

Also part of his parole will include teaching classes to other criminals who murdered women of colour, disabled people, etc.

After 10-20 several years of this, he’s welcome to find a job in anything else as long as it is not connected to a hate group (including law enforcement), can never be near a weapon again, and still must pay restitution to the family or charity to help someone else. But must continue therapy for the rest of his life. Violating this, he is back to serve out his life sentence, no second parole.

As for the cops who are working but haven’t murdered anyone yet? They would then have to pass exams after every one of these seminars, and once a year have to hand in a document describing at least 6 seminars/mental health experts/qualified therapy hours/case studies on how to improve the system that fails so many. And classes on how to actually be a fucking human being with a shred of empathy and soul. If they don’t do this, they lose their jobs.

Sonya Massey deserved better. Everyone who has ever been hurt by a corrupt law enforcement officer or will in future deserves better. And the criminal justice system is absurd. These cops murder the most vulnerable people in society and laugh about it with their cop pals. They destroy lives and they should pay with their lives.

First degree murder charge— EVERY time. No whoops, no ‘accidental’ anything. When they take a gun to be a cop, it automatically makes it first degree because they know they have the gun and they know they can end someone’s life instantly. And until they have education and consequence, they’re just going to keep enjoying themselves as they execute people.

BLACK LIVES MATTER.

ACAB.

Sonya Massey was a paranoid-schizophrenic woman who turned to the police when she was scared and suspected an intruder inside of her home; she was a Black, mentally ill, woman shot dead and executed by a white police officer solely because she said "I rebuke you" over a pot of water. she was DUCKING DOWN behind a counter repeating the words "I'm sorry" as he advanced and, eventually, killed her. Sean Grayson, a white police officer, executed her.

her name was Sonya Massey. she was a human being who deserved to live. say her fucking name. Sonya Massey.

[psslresearch]

20 Tips for Distinction Grade Postgraduate Research

Achieving a Distinction in your Dissertation is as easy as ABC if you know what to do.

If you are studying in a UK, U.S. or EU University, there are some vital tips that you need to consider.

While full details of the tips and hacks are presented in this ebook, “Dissertation Hack: The Secrets of Distinction”, here are 20 tips you need to take seriously:

1. Study and religiously follow the guidelines of the school

2. Peruse previous dissertation samples as may be provided by your supervisor or the school library to know what the standard is.

3. Avoid plagiarism of any form

4. Never-ever submit a work written with AI

5. Show the balance in your writing and write critically i.e. if Obi stole the Yam, then to have a balance, you need to consider that “the Farmer did not secure the Yam”

6. Manage your supervisor and engage with them from DAY 1

7. Get a standby research assistant from Day 1.

8. Never generate your references with AI, most AI references are fake

9. Choose a “Researchable Topic”, your topic can make or mar your grade.

10. Collect and have a sufficient number of references, at least 80 citations for your MBA work.

11. Work with evidence, not your passion, your experience or your feelings — research work is scientific

12. Your literature review MUST have a conceptual framework

13. Make sure your Literature Review connects with ALL your research objectives/questions.

14. Ensure that your research instrument (Questionnaire or Interview) collects data that can speak to EACH of your research objectives/question

15. Ensure that your methodology is justified i.e. why Questionnaire & why not Interview.

16. Where possible, collect data from different sources to achieve triangulation.

17. Choose a data collection method that WILL enable you to have evidence.

18. “Sweat” the data collected from the field i.e. why use only percentage analysis all through when you can do correlation analysis & arithmetic analysis.

19. Connect your data analysis, findings, conclusion & recommendations to your research objective.

20. Start your research work early; you’d be shocked how three months or six months will count down so fast that you will now be working under pressure.

These tips have been taken from my ebook, “Dissertation Hack: The Secrets of Distinction”.

I am Sani Emmanuel and I love discussing research themes. Let’s relate, WhatsApp/Telegram Chat, +234–706–818–0074.

[writingsofmax]

what albums do you think ed/riddler would be into? what would he play for Y\N in disarm?

ANON THIS MADE MY DAY-- i'm putting this all under a read more bc this basically is a dissertation

Okay so I think that there's 3 groups of music Eddie listens to, sad introspective music, harsh angry wall-of-sound music, and then music he discovered in college So if you read his journal there is a lot of (imo) really really sad stuff in it. He writes about how he was born into hell and that the only reason he was put on this earth was to suffer and that no one understands him or will ever understand him, that when he looks in the mirror all he sees is hell/pain and suffering. So when Eddie gets into this state of thinking about being in pain and suffering and feeling out of step with the rest of the world I think that he would be into listening to quiet, introspective sad music. I'm thinking Elliot Smith specifcally and that is because Elliot Smith had some demons, and his songs have a LOT of despair and rage written into them. I think that Edward could heavily relate to a lot of the lyrics in them.

Elliot Smith Lyrics that remind me of Edward: Christian Brothers: Fake concern asks, "what's the matter, man?" And you think I oughta shake your fucking hand. Well, I know how much you care // Nightmares become me, it's so fucking clear

Riot Coming: And I want to tell you that there's a riot coming, like a drug in the water. A punch in the stomach makes sons into daughters. Roman Candle: I wanna hurt him. I wanna give him pain. I'm a roman candle, my head is full of flames. I'm hallucinating, I'm hallucinating. I hear you cry, your tears are cheap. Wet red hot swollen cheeks, fall asleep. Ballad of Big Nothing: Watching the parade with pinpoint eyes, full of smoldering anger. You can do what you want to, whenever you want to. You can do what you want to, there's no one to stop you. Okay anyway, I really could write out Elliot Smith lyrics that relate to him all day long but then this post would be 10 miles long so I'm gonna stop there. Okay so when Edward is in Riddler Mode, he's very manic, he has so many thoughts that they spill out of his head onto every other surface in the room. I think that when he's like that or going into that mode he's listening to loud, screamy, heavy, angry, wall-of-sound type music. Sometimes when your brain is screaming at you and everything is a lot, a lot, a lot, then you need music that will Drown That Out, or help focus the energy by matching it. (in my experience) So this is where My Bloody Valentine, Pixies, Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana comes in. (Some nirvana songs could be in the previous category as well) Lots of songs with heavy guitars, screaming and violent imagery. There's a reason that every chapter title in my fic is a Smashing Pumpkins lyric and it's because they fit him SO WELL. There's a lot of religious imagery that's used in pumpkins songs as well too and that also fits Eddie. Songs and Lyrics that I think fit Eddie: Quiet//Smashing Pumpkins: Quiet, I am sleeping, In here we need a little hope. Jesus, are you listening? Up there to anyone at all?

Tonight, Tonight// Smashing Pumpkins: We'll crucify the insincere tonight, we'll make things right, we'll feel it all tonight Zero// Smashing Pumpkins: Emptiness is loneliness, and loneliness is cleanliness, and cleanliness is godliness and God is empty, just like me. Mr. Grieves// Pixies: *sung sarcastically with laughter in it* Hope everything is all right, hope everything is alright! What's that floating in the water? Oh, Neptune's only daughter. <- this whole song is very eddie-core, there's a part where the singer keeps asking "do you have another opinion?" in a taunting sing-song manner as well Debaser// Pixies <- he is this song Something Against You// Pixies Break My Body// Pixies Bullet With Butterfly Wings// Smashing Pumpkins <- he is also this song Disarm// Smashing Pumpkins <-- and this one Only Shallow// my bloody valentine (lots of noise) basically every nirvana song

Alright now onto the third section, music he discovered in college/highschool. So: Every iteration of the Riddler has a SUPERIORITY COMPLEX. Every single one. I think that this would absolutely extend into music tastes and he would have Music Opinions. I think going off the music I addressed above, it would naturally lead him to bands like Modest Moue and Death Cab For Cutie for sure. He is a sad boy at heart. Modest Mouse makes music for people that are sad and nuerotic and I will die on this hill I think that he would also listen to Aphex Twin and more experimental music like that, stuff that itches your brain in a good way by listening to it. I could see him listening to Aphex Twin and Boards of Canada while dinking around on his laptop for SURE. He would say something like, "Yeah I listen to Radiohead but you should listen listen to Boards of Canada they inspired Radiohead." I also think that he would listen to japanese shoegaze/garage rock stuff as well and would dig through record stores and garage sales looking for obscure presses. OKAY AS FOR WHAT HE WOULD ACTUALLY SHOW Y/N in my fic, I think he would go with safe bets like Modest Mouse or Death Cab to talk to her about, and then go into the 90s rock stuff once he was more comfortable but I think he would keep the Elliot Smith stuff to himself because it's more deeply personal. albums he would own/listen to: in utero/nirvana, bleached/nirvana, surfer rosa/pixies, doolittle/pixies, something about airplanes/dcfc, the photo album/dcfc, siamese twin/smashing pumpkins, mellon collie and the infinite sadness/ smashing pumpkins, Westing (by musting and sextant)/pavement, Brighten the corners/pavement, roman candle/elliot smith (basically all the elliot smith albums) loveless/my bloody valentine, Goo/sonic youth Ummmmm ANYWAY Sorry that this is NOVEL I just loveeeeeeeeeeee talking about music omgggggg

[greaseonmymouth]

I do not intend to write an entire dissertation in this tumblr post, but I am dropping a bunch of links and sources for further reading about monsterfucking and monsters and I really feel like I need to contextualise some of this reading material instead of just dumping it all on you. This is the piss on the poor website and very few of you are going to go and read all of these sources, because frankly, most of them are academic and this isn’t university. (if I were to teach a course on monsterfucking, however…)

tumblr has 10 links per post limit, so at the bottom there is a link to the googledoc with this exact same text AND ALL THE LINKS. yes you do have to scroll to the bottom sorry not sorry.

For starters, everything that follows is wholly my own opinion. I’m going to be making statements here, and I will be basing those statements on informed research and experience, and also just, you know, my opinion. These statements are subjective to me and everyone can feel free to disagree. I can’t be arsed softening every statement with ‘in my experience’ etc. because I am tired and I want to go to bed. Fewer words will make that happen faster. Though I do cite direct quotes, this isn’t an academic paper, don’t treat it as such.

There are two strands of monsterfucking: cishet female gaze monsterfucking and queer monsterfucking. 

The article I linked in my original post and criticised above falls into the first camp. My issue with the article is not that it is a cishet perspective on monsterfucking, my issue with it is that the author, Emily Gould, completely ignores any queer facets (and indeed, origins, as in the case of omegaverse) of monsterfucking and that she wrote this sentence: “It seems, also, like the romance genre as a whole is being pushed by monster romance to make things in human-human books as freaky as possible.” seemingly without pausing to consider that harem, reverse harem, and moresome erotica and romance fiction have existed for decades. The fact that these are now being called ‘Why Choose?’ stories doesn’t change that, and is, I would argue, merely a symptom of marketing. (The fact that this bookriot article treats it as new, is frankly also disappointing: https://bookriot.com/what-is-a-why-choose-romance/ .) Romantasy isn’t new either, the term is. This term is far more marketable than the more longwinded ‘high stakes fantasy romance’. I would also argue that as soon as the term took off, the genre evolved and that it is now a legitimate subgenre of its own within the wider fantasy romance umbrella. Perhaps ‘Why Choose?’ romance/erotica fiction has as well, I’m not nearly as familiar with it. The way traditional publishing is going, particularly since TikTok really took off, punchy buzzwords that are hashtaggeable, shareable, nay, spreadable, are what sells books these days, so the book industry, with financial stakes in everything bookrelated, absolutely encourage this. 

And yet, Emily Gould didn’t stop to consider why in omegaverse ‘slick’ is a thing? Vaginas famously do get wet and slippery when aroused, so male omegas (for a given definition of male, considering omegaverse’s gender and sex defying worldbuilding) who do not have vaginas, instead have anuses that produce ‘slick’. I’m tempted to wonder how on earth the cishets function in the real world if they can’t make up their own shit. Am I shocked and surprised that they took omegaverse and ironed out all the queer wrinkles until it turned into a kinky version of cishet alphahole erotica, reinforcing the exact same patriarchal structures that omegaverse broke to begin with? No. but here we are.

It’s established academically speaking, and I’d say generally speaking - this isn’t niche anymore, monsters and queers are mainstream now - that monsters in literature are representations of the Other. The monster is intricately tied with race, gender, sexuality, religious, and other marginalised identities. Queer people are Other. We are monsters. I don’t mean this in a bad way - I very much subscribe to the Hopeful Monster (McCormack, 2015) ideology in this regard, which is to say in simple terms that monstrous difference is a positive thing that drives change and progress. So, not to fall victim to the xkcd 2501 (https://xkcd.com/2501/) effect, here we go.

Monsters for beginners:

Monster Theory: Reading Culture 1996., edited by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. University of Minnesota Press:. 

The Ashgate Research Companion to Monsters and the Monstrous 2013., edited by Asa Simon Mittman, Peter J. Dendle Routledge.

(Examples) Monster as Other - look, in other languages too:

Izaola, Amaia and Imanol Zubero. 2015. "La Cuestión Del Otro: Forasteros, Extranjeros, Extraños y Monstruos [Otherness: Outsiders, Foreigners, Strangers and Monsters]." Revista De Sociologia 100 (1): 105-129.

Kearney, Richard. 2003. Strangers, Gods, and Monsters: Interpreting Otherness Psychology Press.

Khabibulina, Liliya F. 2017. "МОНСТР КАК ДРУГОЙ (ДРУГАЯ) В СОВРЕМЕННОЙ АНГЛОЯЗЫЧНОЙ ЛИТЕРАТУРЕ [Monster as the Other in Modern Literature in English]." Вестник Пермского университета. Российская и зарубежная филология 9 (2).

Now to the (monster)fucking point!

At a very basic level of an embodied monster in fiction (i.e. a werewolf, zombie, vampyre, minotaur, tentacle monster, blue alien, etc.), the embodied monster communicates something about the culture it belongs to (Mittman 2013, 7) and is, for marginalised groups and cultures, empowering as a means to understand and describe the processes which abject, reject, and exclude them (ibid., 8). What does that mean in simple English? 

Well, when you write a romance novel about a woman taking a job at a minotaur milking facility and falling in love and lust with a client, then the story represents something. People have actually written papers about Morning Glory Milking Farm, here’s one:

Vivanco, Laura. 2024. “Feeling Judged: Reflections on Pornography and Romance from a Minotaur Milking Farm.” Journal of Popular Romance Studies 13.

Vivanco discusses the world-building in the novel and how it makes subtle feminist points about patriarchal society structures and the dominance of the penis. She also makes the point that this novel is “designed to appeal to readers’ desires while not provoking their fears”, by which she means that the monster here represents a comforting Other. The minotaur isn’t a human man, so the power difference of the real world is erased and replaced with a fantasy power difference. Minotaurs don’t really exist, in the same way a big hulking man with a big dick does, no matter how gentle he may be - so a female reader can give into that fantasy without being triggered. Gould’s article also gives this as the very reason for why monsterfucking narratives are so appealing.

A multitude of pop articles about monsterfucking follow the same train of thought, consider all of these hosted on bookriot, all by different writers:

Monstrous Affections: Exploring Romance and Monsters Lyndsie Manusos, Oct 23, 2019

If your only mention of queer monster romances is to bring in Chuck Tingle specifically as a joke, then, uh, I don’t have much respect for your history of sexy monsters actually.

A Brief History of Sexy Monsters Julia Rittenberg, Oct 4, 2021

This one actually treats monster romance novels as a joke:

Quiz: Which Monster Romance Should You Read this Halloween? Alison Doherty, Oct 10, 2023

Despite listing only het novels, Jessica gets my respect for this:

“There is just so much to love about these monster romance stories, but in the end, it comes down to this: if the protagonist doesn’t have to go through a makeover or extreme change to be loved just as they are, then neither should their monster love interest. Their transformations can be extensive on the inside if they need to become better people, but they don’t have to change a thing about their appearance. In fact, it’s their monstrous appearance that makes them who they are.”

Where To Get Started With Monster Romance Jessica Pryde, Oct 31, 2023

I suppose Alison is trying to keep an open mind in this one:

The Strangest Romance Novels Alison Doherty, Apr 15, 2024

To go on about Morning Glory Milking Farm for a bit more before getting into queer monsterfucking: Vivanco quotes Sananja Basker in her paper, who makes the point that Morning Glory Milking Farm presents a deeply fetishistic view of interracial, rather interspecies, relationships between white women and black men. Basker makes the connection that monsters in these contexts, while representing a racial Other, do so relying on racist steretypes. Or in other words, find-replace ‘minotaur’ with ‘black man’ and there is no perceptible change. 

This very brief chapter in a book about tumblr (yes I am referencing this chapter ONLY so I can make you all aware this book exists), mentions these points in discussing the type of posts tumblr users were making about The Shape of Water (2017). One observation made clear that tumblr users were making a distinction between the cishet female gaze and the queer gaze: “Commentary often articulated that despite the primary relationship being between a woman and a “man,” del Toro’s film was exciting because it was about a woman and a monster and thus deviated from the typical heterosexual romance film.”

Another observation highlighted the queer audience’s* viewpoints of the monster as reparative to the stereotype of the monster as a black man stand-in: “One example (...) directly broached issues of race and racism in The Shape of Water, as previous movie “monsters” often functioned as alarmist stand-ins for the sexuality of Black men. Del Toro, however, as a Mexican immigrant, was also seen by Tumblr users as adopting the monster-as- man-of-color metaphor to achieve a strikingly different end.”

*let’s be real here, tumblr is the queer website, I’m not even going to bother digging up a source for this.

Hoch, Indira Neill. 2020. Reblogs, Monsters, and Erotic Amphibians: The Process of Critical Analysis on Tumblr,  69-74 (6 pages) a tumblr book: platform and cultures, University of Michigan Press

I’m not saying that cishet monsterfucking is all bad, and that queer monsterfucking is all good, but I have to admit that I have yet to read a cishet monsterfucking romance novel that doesn’t leave me with a bad aftertaste - no matter how solidly written and how good it was otherwise. I’ve liked the ones I’ve read, they’re not bad novels! But let me give you another example instead of continuing to harp on about minotaurs: The current trend of witch romance novels that read a bit ‘harry potter but for grown ups’, many of which are set in the USA but relying on European magic systems and lineages with no thought given to native Americans who were, well, already there. There’s something deeply disturbing to me about writing a fantasy escapist romance with white heterosexual heroines where the world-building supports diversity only through monsters (few black and no indigenous people present) and upholds what I can only describe as white supremacist values - even if unintentionally. Sarah Hawley’s Glimmer Falls books fall under both monsterfucking and witch romance umbrellas as in these the love interests are demons, and other creatures exist, and like Morning Glory Milking Farm there are even political subplots - book two has a democratic rebellion on the demon plane by marginalised demon hybrids against a tyrannical demon oligarchy! But uh, there are very few non-white characters in these books, and the eurocentric magic system gave me heebie jeebies. The only difference between C. M. Nascosta and Sarah Hawley is that Nascosta selfpublished and Hawley is published by Berkley in the US and Gollancz in the UK.

Where’s that tumblr post chain about HP Lovecraft and fears and bipoc writers when you need it. You know the one. Pretend I haven’t lost the link for a minute and make the connection yourself please.

ETA several hours later: found it: https://schafpudel.tumblr.com/post/702663840742195200/hi-would-you-ever-consider-doing-that-spirited

I’ll spell it out: HP Lovecraft stories represent fears (and racism) but yet can resonate and give meaning to experiences by the very same people Lovecraft feared and hated. The connection I want you to make is that these cishet white monsterfucking books can play into existing power structures and -isms, and yet can resonate and give meaning to experiences by marginalised people. Queer monsterfucking however? Bypasses the -isms. (can they still be racist? Absolutely - I’m writing this post with a queer focus. I can’t possibly cover all viewpoints.)

Actually, while we’re here, lets segue into queer monsterfucking with another tumblr source, which I will quote here in its entirety just in case it disappears tomorrow.

Tumblr user largishcat, March 3, 2020:

i genuinely don’t get cishet monsterfuckers. for context, in the wake of shape of water i participated in this loving-the-monstrous type discussion event slash publishing party wherein i debuted a short story about a woman who “befriends” a cave monster—but that isnt the point. the point is i had to hear straight women talk for hours about how the appeal of monsters is some kind of weird “taming the beast” fantasy—loving a monster until it loves you back, sounding like every bad beauty and the beast take ever.

And there’s my queer ass being like literally none of you get it. this isn’t about power, this is about love and alienation and acceptance. you dumbasses, I’m the monster. this isn’t a metaphor for your shitty boyfriend, this is a metaphor for my own alienation from a society that tells me a the way i am and the way I love are grotesque. this is a fantasy of love free of judgement, separate from societal standards that I’ll never live up to anyway. that ghoul doesn’t care if I’m fat, they think it’s hot that I eat well. that immortal fae creature doesn’t care if the gender on my birth certificate matches the one I use now, they barely have a concept of gender in the first place. that tentacle monster doesn’t care if I shave, they don’t have eyes

monsterfucking is queer culture, everyone else go home

#monsterfucking #queer stuff https://www.tumblr.com/largishcat/611599551785271296/i-genuinely-dont-get-cishet-monsterfuckers-for

With me so far? Have some pop posts about Venom (my beloved):

Venom is an LGBTQA Icon by Anthony Gramuglia

10 Reasons Venom Is Becoming An LGBTQA Cult Film by Anthony Gramuglia

Anthony mate, I hope you have discovered there is a multitude of Venom/Eddie fics on ao3 where they fuck nasty. I think you’d enjoy them.

Very disappointed that this article is now gone and wayback machine didn’t manage to save it, please shed a tear with me: https://www.syfy.com/syfy-wire/yes-venom-is-a-sex-symbol-and-heres-why

How about…..

The Inevitable "Why People Think King Shark Is Hot" Thinkpiece  by Kayleigh Donaldson (Aug. 3, 2021) ?

I don’t know why Kayleigh thinks sharks are difficult to sexualise. She’s clearly never met a single furry in her life. People fucking love drawing antropomorphised sharks with two penises (anatomically accurate to sharks) dicking down other people. (And that’s not even getting into Sidon/Link from Breath of the Wild. Guillermo del Toro himself, monsterfucker extraordinaire, retweeted sidlink fanart in the bygone days of twitter once upon a time.)

I feel I’ve been a bit unfair to bookriot, because they have also published this piece:

The Claws That Catch Feelings: 12 Queer Monster Romances Isabelle Popp, Jun 23, 2022

“Queer monster romances are often between a human and a monster, where by the end the human has embraced the so-called monstrosity within themselves. That monstrosity may in truth be individuality, or the ability to prioritize oneself, one’s own values, and one’s own desires over what the wider world is offering. That kind of character growth facilitates the human’s ability to love and be loved in return, and it gets me every single time.” (Popp, 2022)

Look, it’s getting late, and I’m starting to feel like I’m telling banalities - have we not as a website been participating in the Dracula Daily bookclub for two years running, and making all sorts of queer readings about it - we know this. We know the monster is queer. Water is wet. Here’s a bunch more academic articles and pop pieces on the topic of monsters and queerness and whatnot, maybe I’ll have something smart to say once I’ve finished compiling them.

Teratophilia: Transmedial Representations of Hybrid Sexualities (call for papers - the link leads to academia.edu collection related to the teratophilia conference + the initial call for papers)

"Hybrid, "abnormal", in short monstrous desires and relationships abound everywhere. How to interpret these various valorizations of monstrous sexual configurations, in all the semantic richness and ambiguity of this term, and which include non-human, inhuman, "almost human" entities (Hoquet, 2021)? What do they say about our relationship to the body, to sexuality, to the norm?"

I’m dropping this one purely because it’s a good example of the intersectionality of monster studies and because it provides an example of the positive forces of the monster:

Cosimi, Seth. 2017. ““I’m a Motherfuckin’ Monster!”: Play, Perversity, and Performance of Nicki Minaj”. Feminist Formations, Vol. 29,  2. 47-68 (22 pages)

Elliott, Jaquelin. 2016. “Becoming The Monster: Queer Monstrosity and the Reclamation of the Werewolf in Slash Fandom” Reventant Journal 2.

Ferati, Melissa. 2021. “History and Homoeroticism: Taking a Look at Queer Coding in Horror Media”. Cooper Point Journal (online)

Jones, Stacy Holman & Harris, Anne. 2016. “Monsters, desire and the creative queer body.” Continuum, 30:5, 518-530,

Martins, David Klein. “The Gothic Tradition and the Origins of Queer Monstrosity” Atmostfear Entertainment accessed 28 june 2024

McCormack, Donna. 2015. "Hopeful Monsters: A Queer Hope of Evolutionary Difference." Somatechnics 5 (2): 154-173.

Preciado, Paul B. 2020. Can the Monster Speak? Fitzcarraldo Editions. Translated from French by Frank Wynne.

This one is for the murrricans who can’t go five minutes without injecting themselves and their specific culture into the conversation. I didn’t forget you (how could I). An entire book about queer villains in American media: 

Schildcrout, Jordan. 2014. Murder Most Queer: The Homicidal Homosexual in the American Theater. University of Michigan Press

Sellberg, Karin. 2015.  “Queer (Mis)Representations of Early Modern Sexual Monsters” 11: 375-407.. Sex, Knowledge, and Receptions of the Past, Oxford University Press

That was a big maybe and I’m just going to go ahead and go to bed. Happy reading.

tumblr has a 10 links per post limits, so here is one link directly to the googledoc with this exact same text in it AND ALL THE SOURCE LINKS.

ETA: 8th july 2024 (also added to the gdoc link above):

Clark, Lucian. Monsters Of Our Own: Monster Symbolism in the Trans Community Genderterror, August 29, 2016

I saw this shared around on Threads (why do I go there, I hate it) and commented on as 'this article is so good' and 'must read' including by a few people whose opinion I normally respect, and seeing as monsterfucking and monster everything is like a special little interest for me, I of course instantly clicked through to read it

and I have to say

what the everloving heterosexual fuck is this

two fat paragraphs about omegaverse that don't even mention its origins - I mean - I just - gaze upon this phrase, and despair:

During estrous, Omegas’ vaginas ooze with “slick,” responding to the Alpha���s intoxicating pheromonal perfume.

IT'S CALLED "SLICK" BECAUSE IT'S FROM SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES. THE REASON THE OMEGAS NEED SELF-LUBRICATING ANUSES TO BEGIN WITH IS BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE VAGINAS.

I. have been rendered figuratively speechless. the straights don't know what slick is. the. i. how. how did we end up like this

their dicks swell at the base, creating a “knot,” which lodges them inextricably in the Omega’s slick-soaked (I am so sorry) vagina.

"(I am so sorry)" girl you're writing an article about monster smut and then you have the gall to be embarrassed by the this tame ass (or should i say vagina?) heterosexual omegaverse?

okay, okay. deep breaths. we've only just got started. we started by covering Morning Glory Milking Farm, a minotaur/human erotic romance novel, which well - I've read it, and it's not a bad book by any means, it was actually very very good, a solid story with a great cast and perfectly paced and satisfying romance and loads of sex - is very straight. it's just a minotaur. it's a big guy with a big dick. it's your standard gentle giant/normal sized girl romance. it's not very freaky, but you know, I don't blame the average reader for coming into this thinking this is some out there stuff. gotta start somewhere, right? we didn't all come up through draco/the giant squid crackfic in 2005, you know? and now we've covered Sarah J Maas and we're entering omegaverse territory, this is getting knottier now, right, freakier? this article is going somewhere, right?

you can imagine the intrigue, enemies-to-lovers, and other story lines involved as each captured female eventually finds the member of the barbarian tribe who is destined to worship and fuck the living daylights out of her for the rest of their lives. Oh, and their dicks have a sensitive spur on top designed for clitoral stimulation. It’s just as blue and velvety as the rest of their big alien bodies.

okay so the minotaurs aliens are blue now, i guess.

It seems, also, like the romance genre as a whole is being pushed by monster romance to make things in human-human books as freaky as possible.

ohh?? are we finally getting a proper freak on now??

This genre, “why choose?” or “MMF” (or sometimes even MMMF or MMFM), and also known as “reverse harem,” always features a heroine who is showered with sexual attention by men who are also sexually involved with each other.

having a thousand yard stare moment over here

this author seriously thinks that all these heterofied monster romance tropes are paving the way for the real freaky stuff that is, checks notes, "two hockey players fucking each other while the heroine calls the shots"

this author is positing that human queer erotica/romance are freakier than monster erotica/romance. like. she said that. with her whole chest. black on white.

on one hand a monster, an inhuman being, and on the other, a queer person, a human being. and apparently the real freak is not the minotaur or the blue alien. it is the queer human.

is this satire? it has to be, right?

because if it's not satire, this article is an entire case study in itself on the monstering* of queer people. stunning.

*academic term

[someonestolemyshoes]

Hi! Have u done any pregnant Hanji and overprotective daddy Levi already?? Yep i think im craving for more domestic levihan family, im sorry 😭

Im a bit new here in the community, and when i read ur works, i fell in love with it already, thank you for existing!!! 💖💖💖

Hello anon! Thank you so much, I’m so glad you enjoyed my other fics :3 Sorry for the very long wait for this one, I've been struggling to find the time/motivation to write lately, but I'm feeling a little better and I figured I'd get to work on some of my prompts. Starting here!!

It ended up a little less domestic and a touch more angsty than I had originally planned, but only for a moment--happy endings all round! 

Warning: this does start off with non-graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting, I hope that doesn't bother you!

Hange had been feeling unwell for days.

It wasn't an uncommon occurrence—Hange tended to wake up feeling nauseous some days, most often when she'd neglected to eat a decent meal the evening before—but this was the fourth morning in a row now, that Hange found herself bent over the toilet bowl in the early hours of the morning, heaving up nothing but acid and empty air. 

She retched until her stomach ached. There was nothing left to bring up, but her gut still rolled unpleasantly and there was a telling tremor under her tongue that warned her it might be best to stay in the bathroom a little while longer. She settled heavily against the wall to catch her breath.

It didn't make any sense. For most of the day, Hange felt fine. A little tired, maybe, but that was only to be expected after spending half the night every night on the bathroom floor. Tonight, no doubt, would follow the uncomfortably familiar routine: Hange would dry-heave a little longer, until the queasiness abated enough for Levi to convince her to come back to bed, and then she would toss and turn, too warm beneath the bed clothes, until she could fall into a restless sleep. She'd wake up feeling a little groggy, a little bleary, unreasonably hungry, but after a coffee and some breakfast she would feel well again. Perfectly normal.

Like clockwork, Levi appeared in the doorway just as Hange had flopped herself back over the toilet. She felt his palm, cool and soft, press against the back of her neck. Hange gathered her hair back from her face with both hands, braced her elbows on the toilet bowl, letting out a groan of discomfort as her stomach twisted, threatened to revolt again. Levi's thumb rubbed soothingly against her neck.

Sure enough, she brought up nothing more, but she gagged plenty, and found herself gasping for breath by the time she leaned back against Levi, aching and exhausted. His lips pressed into her damp hair.

Levi was as silent as always. His touch was pleasant, his presence welcome. Hange needed the hand he offered to pull her to her feet, needed his reassuring grip at her hips as she brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth out. Her quaking knees felt unstable beneath her. 

He lay facing her after they got into bed. Hange was sprawled out atop the covers, shifting restlessly to find the coolest patches on the bed. Levi watched her for a moment, then said, "This isn't normal."

Hange only grumbled.

"You said you'd book an appointment with the doctor."

Hange grumbled again. Levi ticked his tongue and rolled to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"Call tomorrow."

"If I didn't know better," Hange said sluggishly, "I'd say you were worried about me."

He scowled and rolled onto his other side, his back to her now.

"No, just sick of waking up at half four every morning to drag you back to bed."

Hange managed a small, wicked snicker, but shuffled across the space between them and pressed an apologetic kiss to the back of his neck.

"Must be dreadful," she said. Her voice sounded raw, hoarse. She buried her nose into his hair and took a long, deep breath. Levi grunted, but reached back and pulled her arm loosely over his hip. He knotted their fingers together loosely.

"Call them, Hange."

Hange gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

"I will."

**

Hange prided herself on being a reasonably intelligent person. She had two degrees, was working towards her doctorate, and already had her name on a small handful of peer-reviewed research papers. She spoke multiple languages, read dissertations for fun, kept a (in Levi’s words) disgustingly realistic human skeleton in a box under the bed for study purposes, and had spent the better part of the last 26 years of her life studying human biology and physiology.  

How she had not predicted that she might be pregnant was almost unfathomable. 

She left the doctors office in a daze with an appointment card and several pamphlets in hand. She had been referred hastily to a midwife and the hospital would soon be sending out a date for an ultrasound—“As soon as possible,” the doctor had said, “since you’re not sure how far along you are.” 

The thing is, Hange had been on the same birth control pill for years now. Forgetful as she may be about many, many things (like eating, and bathing, and washing the dishes and taking out the garbage and and and), Hange was religious in taking that damn pill at the same time every single day. She had never missed it, not even once. Without a regular cycle, Hange had no way of predicting when they had conceived, and the doctor was eager to make sure no essential landmarks in her antenatal care were missed, if they could possibly help it.

The thought had never even crossed her mind. It seemed ridiculous now, in hindsight. The sickness was one thing, but now that she thought about it, there were a whole host of small oddities that Hange could easily attribute to pregnancy. Lethargy, and bloating, heartburn, and she had been peeing more than usual—Hange groaned, and scrubbed her hands over her face. She should have suspected, at least. Should have put the pieces together sooner. 

But, stupid and naive as it may be, she hadn’t thought it possible. Why worry about it, when Hange had taken consistent precautions to avoid it? 

She felt queasy the entire bus ride home. 

It wasn’t that she was against the idea of having children. One day, maybe. When she had finished her doctorate, got herself a steady, well-paid job. When she and Levi had moved out of their tiny, cramped apartment into somewhere bigger, somewhere more suited for a family. 

And god. Levi. 

This was something they’d never really talked about. For his part, Levi never seemed all that interested. He was good with Hange’s nieces and nephews, and Erwin’s son adored him, and he hadn’t showed any express dislike for children, but—well, tolerating other peoples little brats and raising your own are two very different things. 

What if Levi didn’t want the baby? What if he did? Hange wasn’t even sure herself what she wanted to do about the whole situation—what if she didn’t want it? What if, after some reflection, Hange decided now wasn’t a good time? Could they even afford a baby right now? Hange’s money was tied up in her education, while Levi was just making ends meet at the office. They got by well enough with just the two of them, but add in a baby? A whole other person, entirely dependant on them for support? Hange could barely feed and bathe herself, some days, never mind responsibly care for a child. 

By the time the bus pulled up near the house, Hange felt more distressed than ever. Levi, at least, was at work until the evening, so she had a few more hours to herself to mull everything over, but the entire situation made her stomach clench and churn unpleasantly with every new thought. 

The prospect of having a child was terrifying. The prospect of not having this child was nauseating. 

Levi had left the flat in pristine condition when he had left for work, but Hange barely had the energy to feel even a little guilty as she shrugged off her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving both strewn about the floor. She dumped her bag and made her way sluggishly through to the bedroom. 

Levi had made the bed. The sheet was stretched flat over the mattress, the pillows perfectly fluffed and set against the headboard. Hange’s nightshirt, one of Levi’s old, baggy shirts, too stretched and threadbare for him to wear, had been folded neatly and left on her side of the bed, her slippers lined up smartly with the bed frame. For some reason—hormones, she told herself—her eyes watered, and a lump swelled in her throat. She sniffled pitifully as she stripped off her clothes and pulled on the shirt, clambering into the bed and tugging the sheets until the cocooned around her. 

Hange passed the rest of the day tossing and turning in bed. She tried to nap, but her mind was too restless, occupied with thoughts of the baby, with the concept of having to tell Levi when he came home. She could try to lie, say the doctors had done some blood work, that she was waiting on the results of some test or other, but Levi knew her too well. She could never lie to him, and her despondent state would give her away before she had the chance to say anything. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time she heard Levi’s keys in the door. She felt exhausted, head aching with all the thinking, considering, weighing up her options; with running over every possible outcome she could imagine. Keeping the baby, getting rid of the baby, Levi not wanting the baby, Levi leaving over the baby—every scenario she could imagine was worse than the last. There was only one idea that she had hardly dared entertain, in fear of disappointment if things didn’t work out. 

She heard Levi call out for her, but gave no answer. She listened, curled up in a ball on her side, as he shuffled around, no doubt picking up her coat and shoes from where she had abandoned them. And then he made his way towards the bedroom, steps soft on the plush carpet. The bedroom door creaked open. 

“Hange?” 

She made a small, warbled noise under the bedclothes. Levi came to sit on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. His hand found the curve of Hange’s hip. 

“How was it?” 

Hange made another noncommittal sound. She wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, but didn’t dare show her face just yet. She wasn’t ready. She had never prepared for this conversation, never even imagined it before today. It was too soon. Not enough time to rehearse. 

Levi’s hand moved to her back, rubbing lightly up and down her spine, before dropping to the mattress behind her. He leaned over her, and she felt his lips press warm and gentle to the point of her shoulder. A fresh wave of tears poured over the bridge of her nose and down the side of her face. 

She tried to be quiet, but something—the shake of her shoulder, perhaps, or the shudder of air as she tried to take a steadying breath in—gave way to her crying. Levi moved off the bed, but Hange felt his fingers prying lightly at the sheets, pulling them down until he could get a good look at her face. He was kneeling by the bed now, face level with her, and he looked at her with worry pinching deep creases between his brows. 

“Oi, what’d they say?” 

Hange bit the inside of her lip and rubbed her damp cheek on the pillow. If Levi was bothered by her using their bedding as a tissue, he didn’t show it. He simply looked at her, eyes darting over her face, searching. It occurred to Hange then how this must look to him. She had gone to the doctors due to unexplained, violent sickness, and now she is in bed, hours later, still crying about whatever news she had received. 

“I’m fine,” she said. Levi’s tense shoulders relaxed a fraction, but his face remained pinched, frowning and concerned. Hange wanted to tell him quickly, simply, like ripping off a plaster, but the words would not come. She opened her mouth, but her throat constricted painfully. 

Eventually, she said, “my bag. There’s some stuff in my bag. Have a look.” 

Levi gave her a somewhat quizzical look, but stood, dropping a quick kiss to her temple before going to fetch the bag, and dipping his hand in to fish out the contents inside. 

Hange watched with her breath held and her stomach clenched as Levi pulled out the handful of leaflets and turned them over, looking at each one in turn. His eyes widened fractionally as comprehension dawned on him. His lips pressed into a thin line. Leaden weight settled in Hange’s gut. She curled into a tighter ball, pressing the bedsheets over her mouth and nose, waiting for him to gather himself enough to say something. 

After a moment, he spoke. 

“That’s all?” 

Huh? “Huh?!” 

Hange disentangled her arms from the sheets and sat up, staring at him. Levi moved to sit on the edge of the bed again, a scowl back on his face, though there was an intriguing flush high on his cheeks as he whacked her lightly on the top of the head with the leaflets. 

“Stupid four-eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Crying like that. I thought you were dying.”  

“I’m pregnant.” Hange said the word slowly, carefully, in case Levi had somehow misunderstood. He had the audacity to look at her like she was stupid.

“I can see that.” 

“And you have nothing more to say about it? That’s all?” 

Levi shrugged a little at her. Aside from the small patches of colour in his cheeks, Levi seemed wholly unfazed by the revelation. 

“It’s just a baby. We can handle a baby.” 

“That doesn’t terrify you?” 

Levi scrutinised her for a moment, before he said, “are you scared?” 

“Yes? Yes! How are you so calm? We can’t afford a baby—we don’t have the time for a baby? Where will they going to sleep? We don’t have a spare room. Can we get time off work to take care of a baby? How will we pay for childcare when we can’t be around?” 

“Hange,” Levi said, putting a stop to her rambling. He watched her with a pinched stare. “Do you not want it?” 

Hange had spent the majority of the day mulling over this same question. Staring a family was a huge, life-changing commitment, something that required  careful forethought and planning. They had not had that luxury. Hange was pregnant now. She had doubts and fears, more than she could ever express, but the idea of simply having a baby—of having this baby—wasn’t upsetting. In the small, brief moments she had allowed herself to imagine a future where she and Levi were parents, where they weren’t wanting for money or time, where things were well, she felt happy. Giddy. The prospect was almost exciting. 

“It’s not that,” Hange said earnestly. “I do—I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I—I do want it. But I just—we had no time to prepare. We have no savings, we have no space, I’m a mess. How are we supposed to take care of a tiny person? Babies are hard work, Levi.”

“You’re already hard work.” 

Hange laughed weakly, and wiped at her face again. Levi pressed a kiss to her raw cheek. 

“We’ll figure it out,” he said.

Hange leaned into him, sighing quietly. 

“Is this the kind of thing we can just figure out?” 

Levi hummed, shrugging his shoulder. His fingers skimmed up beneath Hange’s shirt, splaying over the small of her back and pulling her closer. 

“Why not? We’ve done a good job bullshitting our way through everything else.”  

Hange laughed lightly and bumped the side of her head against Levi’s.  

“This is different, Levi. This is a person. A tiny little person who is going to need me and you to do everything for them. What if we can’t do it? What if we mess up?” 

“Hange.” Levi pulled back a little and his hands came up to grip either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. “Stop. I know all that. But if you want the brat, and I want the brat, we’ve got no choice but to get on with it.” 

“I know, I know, but—wait, you want the baby?” 

Levi maintained eye contact with her, but it seemed to take a concentrated effort to do so. The flush of his cheeks deepened a little and his lips quirked at the corners. No doubt to compensate for the show of emotion, he pulled his face into his customary frown. 

“It’s fine,” he said. Hange fought the urge to roll her eyes and caught his hands as he lowered them from her face, pulling them into her lap. 

“Are you saying that because it’s already too late, or do you want to keep it?” 

Levi’s face took on a look of constipated strain. He curled his lip as though in distaste, then hooked a hand around the back of Hange’s neck and pulled her face to his abruptly, smacking a kiss to her lips. He let his forehead settle against hers and stroked his thumb over the hinge of her jaw. 

He fought to keep his tone neutral, but Hange could hear the happy tremor in his voice as he said again, “It’s fine.”

For the first time since hearing the news that day, Hange allowed herself to feel excited. To accept the idea that she and Levi were about to start their own bizarre little family. That Levi was still with her felt incredible enough, but to know that he was pleased—it was more than she could ever have hoped for. Hange gave a wet laugh and kissed him again. 

“Are you allergic to looking happy?” Hange asked as they broke apart. Levi clicked his tongue and pulled back to flick her square between the eyebrows. She laughed a little louder and leaned to wipe her runny nose on his shoulder. Levi muttered under his breath, but didn’t push her away.  

“Okay,” Hange said, after a moment. She sat back and pushed her hair back from her face. “Okay. We’re having a baby, then.” 

Levi’s rubbed the smile from his lips with the back of his hand, nodding. “We’re having a baby.” 

Hange sunk down to flop back over the pillows. Levi looked down at her, head tilted, chewing the inside of his lip. Hange reached up to brush his fringe off his forehead, warmth spilling in her chest when he held her hand close and turned to kiss her palm. 

She smiled a little playfully, and freed a leg from the sheets to dig her toes into his ribs. 

“If I’d known you wanted kids I would have been significantly less stressed, you know.” 

Levi quirked a brow at her. 

“I’ve told you that before.” 

“No, you haven’t.” 

“I have. At your sisters wedding.” 

Hange racked her brain, searching for the conversation. She remembered the occasion, and she remembered that she and Levi had somehow ended up babysitting Hange’s family brood. She remembered Levi, wrestling to keep her youngest nephew on his lap while the eldest, still only five or six at the time, was clambering up the back of his chair, sticky hands tugging at Levi’s collar. Hange fought hard to recall more of what was said, but could remember nothing at all of Levi announcing that he had wanted one of his own. 

“You said these brats aren’t so bad,” Hange said slowly. 

Levi nodded at her. Hange waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, only looked at her like there was nothing more he needed to say. 

“That’s it? That’s your idea of telling me you want kids?” 

“The hell else could I have meant?” 

Hange dug her toe at him again but Levi caught her foot this time, pushing it firmly down onto the mattress. Hange reached for him with both arms instead, curling them around the back of his neck and tugging him down quickly. He toppled over her with a quiet oof, and Hange rolled them quickly, straddling his waist and dropping her weight down onto him. 

“That is the kind of thing you say clearly, Levi! These brats aren’t so bad—you’re ridiculous!” 

Levi wrestled with her arms a little longer before giving up and bringing his hands instead to rest low on her hips. He watched her with a curious expression on his face, something open and soft, and then his eyes roved down to her abdomen and his thumbs brushed inwards, beneath the hem of her shirt, stroking over her lower belly. 

This time, he didn’t fight his smile. 

He reached up and pulled her down by the neck, and kissed her soundly. Hange melted against him, welcomed the press of his tongue between her lips, shuddered pleasantly when he nipped at her bottom lip. She went with him willingly as he rolled them both over, nudging a knee between her legs and settling his weight against her. 

She was spreading her legs to make space for him, when he paused suddenly, and pulled back, leaning over the bed and scooping through the discarded back of leaflets. Hange, winded and dishevelled, watched him incredulously as he flicked through the contents of one, then tossed it aside and opened another. 

“What are you doing?” 

Without looking up, Levi replied, “Checking.” 

“Checking what?” 

“I wanna know if we can still—” he waved a hand between them, and went back to searching. 

“We’ve been—” Hange mimicked his gesture, “—up until now anyway.” 

Levi looked up at her, looking mildly horrified. He held up one his open leaflet and said, “You’ve been drinking alcohol, too. You’re not supposed to do that. And look, here—you’re not supposed to overwork. You’ll have to take on less hours at the university. And you’ll eat. Proper damn meals. Every day.” 

Hange flopped back against the pillows, eyes rolling, watching as Levi picked up each new leaflet in turn, pointing out every little adjustment that Hange would have to make. 

“This one says you should get eight to ten hours sleep per night. Every night. And not so much coffee, the caffeine’s bad for the baby.” 

The baby. It sounded surreal. It sounded ridiculous. Levi shifted to sit against the headboard beside her after opening the chunky little What to Expect While Expecting volume Hange had been handed while leaving the doctors. He seemed thoroughly engrossed, and seemingly unaware when one of his hands reached out to pull Hange’s hair free of its ponytail and sink into her hair. She hummed happily as his nails scraped over her scalp. 

Things were still scary, and Hange was still uncertain about how this whole adventure might turn out. But Levi was still with her, and Levi was happy, and that—

—Well, that was good enough.