#it has a lot of dreamlike qualities

[pisboy]

I would love to play skyrim while I sleep. I would love going to bed so I can get back to my latest survival mode campaign

[mcmansionhell]

we've found it folks: mcmansion heaven

Hello everyone. It is my pleasure to bring you the greatest house I have ever seen. The house of a true visionary. A real ad-hocist. A genuine pioneer of fenestration. This house is in Alabama. It was built in 1980 and costs around $5 million. It is worth every penny. Perhaps more.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Come on, Kate, that's a little kooky, but certainly it's not McMansion Heaven. This is very much a house in the earthly realm. Purgatory. McMansion Purgatory." Well, let me now play Beatrice to your Dante, young Pilgrim. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.

It is rare to find a house that has everything. A house that wills itself into Postmodernism yet remains unable to let go of the kookiest moments of the prior zeitgeist, the Bruce Goffs and Earthships, the commune houses built from car windshields, the seventies moments of psychedelic hippie fracture. It is everything. It has everything. It is theme park, it is High Tech. It is Renaissance (in the San Antonio Riverwalk sense of the word.) It is medieval. It is maybe the greatest pastiche to sucker itself to the side of a mountain, perilously overlooking a large body of water. Look at it. Just look.

The inside is white. This makes it dreamlike, almost benevolent. It is bright because this is McMansion Heaven and Gray is for McMansion Hell. There is an overbearing sheen of 80s optimism. In this house, the credit default swap has not yet been invented, but could be.

It takes a lot for me to drop the cocaine word because I think it's a cheap joke. But there's something about this example that makes it plausible, not in a derogatory way, but in a liberatory one, a sensuous one. Someone created this house to have a particular experience, a particular feeling. It possesses an element of true fantasy, the thematic. Its rooms are not meant to be one cohesive composition, but rather a series of scenes, of vastly different spatial moments, compressed, expanded, bright, close.

And then there's this kitchen for some reason. Or so you think. Everything the interior design tries to hide, namely how unceasingly peculiar the house is, it is not entirely able to because the choices made here remain decadent, indulgent, albeit in a more familiar way.

Rare is it to discover an interior wherein one truly must wear sunglasses. The environment created in service to transparency has to somewhat prevent the elements from penetrating too deep while retaining their desirable qualities. I don't think an architect designed this house. An architect would have had access to specifically engineered products for this purpose. Whoever built this house had certain access to architectural catalogues but not those used in the highest end or most structurally complex projects. The customization here lies in the assemblage of materials and in doing so stretches them to the height of their imaginative capacity. To borrow from Charles Jencks, ad-hoc is a perfect description. It is an architecture of availability and of adventure.

A small interlude. We are outside. There is no rear exterior view of this house because it would be impossible to get one from the scrawny lawn that lies at its depths. This space is intended to serve the same purpose, which is to look upon the house itself as much as gaze from the house to the world beyond.

Living in a city, I often think about exhibitionism. Living in a city is inherently exhibitionist. A house is a permeable visible surface; it is entirely possible that someone will catch a glimpse of me they're not supposed to when I rush to the living room in only a t-shirt to turn out the light before bed. But this is a space that is only exhibitionist in the sense that it is an architecture of exposure, and yet this exposure would not be possible without the protection of the site, of the distance from every other pair of eyes. In this respect, a double freedom is secured. The window intimates the potential of seeing. But no one sees.

At the heart of this house lies a strange mix of concepts. Postmodern classicist columns of the Disney World set. The unpolished edge of the vernacular. There is also an organicist bent to the whole thing, something more Goff than Gaudí, and here we see some of the house's most organic forms, the monolith- or shell-like vanity mixed with the luminous artifice of mirrors and white. A backlit cave, primitive and performative at the same time, which is, in essence, the dialectic of the luxury bathroom.

And yet our McMansion Heaven is still a McMansion. It is still an accumulation of deliberate signifiers of wealth, very much a construction with the secondary purpose of invoking envy, a palatial residence designed without much cohesion. The presence of golf, of wood, of masculine and patriarchal symbolism with an undercurrent of luxury drives that point home. The McMansion can aspire to an art form, but there are still many levels to ascend before one gets to where God's sitting.

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[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley both know you need to have a conversation and define your relationship. Bradley is excited to get home to you and do just that... and then maybe take you to bed for the rest of the night. But when Meredith crashes the scene, and someone gets hurt, he has to change his plans.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

After Bradley dropped Noah off early at daycare on Friday morning, he had an hour until he needed to be on base. He wanted to get to you as soon as he could, but he stopped to get your coffee on the way. 

It was funny, because the baristas really did know him by this point, and they knew what his regular order was. He was probably the only person in the history of the coffee shop who asked to write the names on the cups himself. So he scrawled Princess and peasant on the two cups and handed the marker back to the barista, making sure to leave a tip. 

He knew where you lived, because it was very close to Penny's house, and he wondered if you were going to let him inside your place. He parked behind your car and made his way up to the front door of the small cottage that needed a lot of work. It was smaller than his house, which had more than enough room for three people. Bradley juggled both coffee cups into one hand and knocked.

And when you answered the door in your scrubs, fresh from the shower, he knew he was gaping at you. But you were no better as your eyes went a little wide at the sight of him in his flight suit with the sleeves tied around his waist. 

"Morning, Princess," he crooned softly, and you were smiling up at him as he handed you your coffee. "Give me your keys, and I'll move Noah's carseat into your car."

"You want to come in first?" you asked, and Bradley slipped willingly inside your living space. Everything had a dreamlike quality; he hadn't quite been able to imagine what your place would be like. When he was your age, he had owned nothing and had no one. Strangely enough, you seemed similar to how he had been, but it didn't come with a sense of sadness. You seemed independent and smart, and as you slipped your hand into his and pulled him further inside, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"I would give you a tour, but there's nothing really to see," you told him, shrugging as you looked between your small living room and your small kitchen. 

"You gonna show me your secret Skittles stash?" he asked, earning a laugh. 

"Absolutely not," you replied. "You seem like the type who would have no self control if you knew the location. You'd eat them all in one sitting."

"That's not true," he promised, running his thumb along the back of your hand. "I'd save you half and you know it." He loved that smug smile on your lips, couldn't get enough, really. Then he looked around a little more, inhaling your sweet scent. He eyed a hoodie with Greek letters hanging on one of the hooks next to the door. "Were you in a sorority?" he asked, running his fingers along the fabric. 

With a soft laugh, you shook your head. "Uh, no. That belongs to my ex, Greyson. I keep forgetting to take it over to his apartment and drop it off."

Bradley eyed your pretty face and glossy lips. He knew all about college guys and cute girls, and he didn't want you going anywhere near Greyson's place anymore. "I could drop it off for you, Princess."

You released his hand and let your palm come to rest against his abs while you casually sipped your coffee. "You jealous, Daddy?"

Bradley hauled you against his body with a soft yelp, setting his coffee down on the table followed by yours. "Why don't you show me your bedroom?"

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him softly. "Won't you be late for work?"

"I don't care," he growled, letting his hands slide down your body until he was grabbing your ass and rubbing against you through the thin fabric of your scrubs. You were making soft sounds as you kissed him, and Bradley knew nothing except the desire to take care of you in every way.

"Okay, Daddy." You were leading him up the stairs, holding his hand and looking back at him as you led him into a room with a double bed and a dresser. Everything was tidy and it smelled so fucking good, Bradley was getting harder my the second. 

You looked at him expectantly as he started to untie your pants. Fuck. He was thinking about calling out of work and spending the day in your bed, showing you everything he could and would love to do to you. 

He licked his lips. "If we make this quick, I don't want you to think it's because I didn't want to spend hours with my face and cock buried inside you."

"Oh," you whimpered before you bit your lip. Bradley slipped his hand inside your underwear. You were soaking wet already, and so sensitive that you shook before him. 

He kissed your lips as he let his fingers glide through your silky wetness. Your hands were exploring his shoulders through his undershirt, and Bradley couldn't remember wanting anyone like this before. 

"Turn around, baby," he whispered, and you did just as you were told, bending over and bracing your hands on your bed. When he knelt behind you and yanked your pants and underwear down to your feet, he moaned at the gorgeous view he was treated to. 

"You okay?" you asked, since he had stopped touching you except to stroke your thighs with his thumbs. Bradley responded by nudging your legs a little further apart and kissing your pussy until his lips and mustache were all wet. You smelled and tasted so good. He wanted to smell like you for the rest of the day. You were whimpering softly, stuttering on his name, and as Bradley stood and unzipped his flight suit a few more inches, he basked in the genuinely needy noises you made.

You met his eyes over his shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek as he lined himself up with your tight pussy. "I just want to make you feel so good, Princess," he promised, pushing himself deep inside you with a groan. "You're too perfect for anything else."

"Bradley," you whined as he planted his hands next to yours on the bed. He covered your body with his larger one, wanting to protect you and make you feel like you belonged with him even while he fucked you. Maybe especially when he was fucking you.

"Princess," he whispered, kissing along the back of your neck and burying his nose in your hair. The slapping of his thighs against yours was filling the room, and Bradley had to bite his lip against the sensation of how damn tight you felt. He could cum now, he was certain of that, but he wanted to make everything good for you. "I want you to cum for me."

You took Bradley's right hand in yours and kissed his fingertips before guiding his hand so he was touching your clit. He groaned next to your ear and you turned to kiss the corner of his lips. "Touch me?" 

Bradley sucked on your neck while he spread you open and circled your clit with his middle finger. You were panting, exposing more of your neck for him to nibble on as you bucked back into his thrusts. But that first squeeze had him seeing stars as you keened. And then you got louder and louder until you were whining Daddy at full volume, back arched as you came for him.

When he finished a moment later, he let his hand drift up your body over your perfect skin until he was stroking you gently through your bra. "I can't wait to see you later tonight, Princess."

"Mmm," you sighed as he withdrew from your body. Then you stood and pulled your clothing back into place, and Bradley knew he would be thinking about your cum soaked underwear until he saw you later and got to do it all over again. 

"I think you earned your very own bag of Skittles," you whispered, running your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. 

Bradley took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "I'm curious to know what you're going to give me after I spread you out on my bed later and really take my time."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you until you whimpered. 

"Shit, I need to go, Princess. Let me put the car seat in your car."

You took his hand and led him back downstairs, grabbing a bag of Skittles from a kitchen drawer and handing it to him while he looked at Greyson's hoodie again. "Thanks, baby. You know... I meant it. I can drop that off for you if you want me to." Simply the idea of letting your twenty three year old ex boyfriend know that you were currently getting fucked by him had Bradley grinning.

You pressed your lips together and tucked the Skittles into the pocket of Bradley's flight suit before saying, "That sounds like something a boyfriend would do."

He sucked in a breath, because you were fucking right. Flipping your ex the proverbial bird was boyfriend behavior, and he wanted to do it anyway. As it was, he already wanted you with him and Noah all the time. He knew he needed to talk to you about defining what was going on, because the app was off his phone now, and he'd been wanting you for weeks.

The expectant look in your eyes had him kissing your lips, and you had the audacity to lick his still damp mustache and moan. Would he get in trouble with Maverick if he stayed longer and had you again? But then his phone rang, and he discreetly silenced it as soon as he saw that it was Meredith.

"You and I are going to have a conversation later. Okay, Princess? Now where is your car key?"

--------------------------------

Before you left for class, you bundled up Greyson's hoodie and shoved it into a shopping bag. You'd drop it by his place one day next week, so there was no sense in leaving it hanging around with your other things. 

Just seeing Noah's carseat in your backseat had you smiling. And that smile lasted all day while you were in class and filling out information for your clinical research work. You loved being the one who Bradley knew he could trust with his son. You loved spending time with Noah and making snacks for him. You had the All About the Letter N! coloring book tucked in your bag along with your textbooks, and after you took Noah to the park, you and he could color. And then Bradley would come home. And you and he could talk. And then hopefully you would be willingly spreading yourself out on his bed for the rest of the night.

With a soft moan, you pulled up the address of Noah's daycare in your phone's GPS and headed toward your car. It was only twenty minutes away. He would probably be hungry when you got there, which was fine, because you had some ants on logs in a cooler in your trunk just for him.

But the look on Noah's face when you were the one who arrived to pick him up made you smile so much, it hurt your face. "Did you have fun today?" you asked him as he climbed up into your arms and hugged you.

"Yeah! Did you bring a coloring book?"

"I sure did, Noah. And I brought you a snack. Do you want to go to the park and have your snack on a picnic table?"

As he nodded against your shoulder, you decided to just head right for the park in Bradley's neighborhood. You could change out of your scrubs later when you took Noah home for dinner. You brought something cute to change into, but Bradley wouldn't be home until closer to Noah's bedtime anyway. So you parked near the picnic tables, not too far from the playground equipment, and took the cooler out of your trunk before scooping Noah out of his carseat.

"Ready?" you asked, taking his tiny hand in yours as you slipped your sunglasses into place. "Let's have a snack first, and then we can go on the swings."

The playground was not crowded, but the kids that were there were running around, laughing and screaming with parents and grandparents. The picnic tables were empty, and you helped Noah climb up onto one of the benches and kissed his head.

"Have some ants," you told him, lining several carrots up on a napkin for him. You crunched into one as you settled onto the bench beside him. He ate the rest of them, leaving a mess of peanut butter on his face and hands, but you had wipes inside the cooler. 

"Were they good?" you asked, laughing as he looked inside the cooler for more as you wiped his cheek clean. "You want more?"

"Yes," he replied, turning toward you with wide eyes, looking so much like his dad that you had to laugh. You could probably cook nonstop for the two of them, and they would just keep eating. 

You kissed his forehead and scooped him up from the bench. You tucked your trash inside the cooler along with the ice pack and led him to the swings. "I'll make you more after dinner if you're still hungry."

"Promise?"

"Of course, I promise!" you replied. The breeze was picking up a bit, but it was still a beautiful day. And as you pushed him higher and higher at his request, you smiled at the dad next to you as he chased a toddler around. You briefly thought about what you might be able to cook at Bradley's house, then you sighed realizing you should have grabbed his credit card for groceries just in case. 

You inadvertently made eye contact with a woman who was standing alone near the far end of the swings before looking away. She looked familiar, although you were also sure you'd never seen her before. After a few seconds, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that she hadn't moved, so you glanced her way again. She was looking intently at Noah, and you could feel goosebumps tingle along the back of your neck. 

The woman took out her phone, and you tried to slow the swing down and block her view of Noah, but then you felt apprehensive about turning your back toward her. The swings were too far away from your car. The picnic tables were blocking your path. 

"Let's go down the slide," you told Noah quickly, scooping him out of the swing as he complained and asked you to push him more. 

When you turned back to check, the woman had started to walk along the swings, closer to the slide as you helped Noah climb up. Suddenly you felt unsafe. The park was nearly empty. That guy with the toddler was gone now. Your heart rate picked up.   

You pushed Noah down the slide and then ran to help catch him at the bottom. And now the woman was creeping even closer with her phone out.  

"Again!" he chanted. With a deep breath, you walked him back to the ladder, helped him climb, and then made a quick decision. You had your phone and keys in your pocket, and you could leave the cooler behind. When you scooped him up at the bottom of the slide, you wrapped your arms around him and made a quick dash toward your car. 

It was a good distance away, and as soon as you started moving, you saw her moving too. She was rushing toward you now, but you had a clear shot at the parking lot. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and the feeling of panic that washed over you had you squeezing Noah closer. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as you ran as fast as you could with him in your arms. 

"It's okay," you gasped, glancing back to see that she was still right there. And now she was calling out to you. Ignoring what she was saying, you unlocked your car as you approached, nearly tripping on the curb as you flung your back door open. Your sunglasses slipped off, and you stepped on them, crunching them under your sneaker.

"Wait!" the woman called out. "It's okay!"

You shoved Noah a little roughly into his carseat, tightening the straps with one hand as you glanced over your shoulder and slammed the back door shut.

"Shit!" she called out, also nearly tripping over the curb. "I won't hurt him!" 

You needed to get in the car, but as you reached for your door, you tripped and landed on the pavement, and the searing pain that shot through your arm had you gasping. But you didn't have time to check yourself as this insane woman closed in on you.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" you screamed, realizing your pepper spray was sitting in your cup holder. You opened your door and climbed in, locking the doors and cranking the engine to life just as she approached Noah's window and cupped her hands to look inside your car. "You psycho!" you cried out, slamming your car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

You drove in the opposite direction of Bradley's house in case she tried to follow, but you didn't see anyone else pull out of the parking lot. When you glanced in your mirror at Noah, he looked like he was going to cry. 

"It's okay!" you tried to reassure him, but your own voice was shaking. "Let's sing." After you cleared your throat a few times, you led him in the dinosaur song that you and he made up last month, and that seemed to cheer him up and calm him down. 

You drove miles out of your way before you started to head back to Bradley's house. When you finally pulled into his driveway, you noticed that your right arm was scraped up and dripping blood, but at least Noah was safe. And as you carried him inside, firmly locking the door and leaning against it, you realized who that must have been.

----------------------------

Bradley was exhausted. He and Nat had been working with the simulation for hours. It was late, and he was starving, and he decided to skip the locker room and head right home. He wanted to see you and Noah, wanted to talk to you. If he didn't at least try to figure out what was happening with you, he was going to lose his mind. 

He wanted you. Noah already loved you. Of course, you'd be crazy to actually want to date Bradley, but he figured he should at least try. Test those waters with you. He couldn't ever remember being nervous that a woman might just want him around to hook up with. Although he supposed he could just keep doing that with you, if that's all you really wanted.

Bradley's stomach was growling as he tied his sleeves around his waist again. The sun had already set, and as he climbed into the Bronco, he scrolled through missed calls from Meredith and texted you. 

Be home soon.

You didn't respond, but his house wasn't too far from base, and you were probably playing with Noah. Maybe you'd be wearing your crown when he got back. Maybe you had made dinner. Maybe you'd kiss him when he got there. He found himself driving a little faster, smiling when your car in his driveway came into view.

But as soon as he unlocked the door and strolled into the kitchen, he knew something was wrong. Your back was tense, and you were coloring with your left hand. Noah was in his pajamas, and when he looked at Bradley his eyes lit up. But Bradley's gaze fell to your arm, and he rushed over to you. 

"What happened?" he asked, gently taking you by the wrist and examining you. "Tell me."

You looked at him, lips parted, but you remained silent for a beat. "I fell."

"You fell?" he asked, wondering why your voice sounded so strange.You looked tired and worried, but Noah was okay. And your arm looked like it would heal eventually. "Baby, tell me what happened." He was kneeling on the floor next to your seat, and you nodded slightly as he kissed your cheek.

"After Noah gets in bed," you whispered. "I'll tell you."

"Sure," Bradley replied, still worried as he scooped his son up and took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he got him tucked in bed, Bradley kissed his forehead. "Go right to sleep, bub. I love you."

Noah looked at him with wide eyes as he turned on the nightlight. Bradley rubbed his shoulder as his eyes finally started to drift closed, and then he was dashing back out to the kitchen. You were washing dishes with one good arm, and Bradley reached around you to take the plate out of your hand and turn the faucet off. 

"Hey, don't worry about that, Princess," he whispered, turning you gently to face him. "What happened?"

You finally met his eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, but you didn't return the kiss. Bradley pulled away and examined your arm again. He needed to get you cleaned up, get the dirt out of the wound. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.

You cleared your throat and asked, "What does Meredith look like?"

Bradley cocked his head a bit but described his ex to you. The look in your eyes was making him nervous as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I have a picture of her," he told you, scrolling through a photo album. "She's in the first picture I ever took of Noah. So I saved it." When Bradley held his phone out for you, he saw you swallow hard before meeting his eyes again.

"I took Noah to the park," you whispered. "After I picked him up from daycare. And there was a woman there. She kept looking at Noah. Looked like she was trying to take his picture."

"Shit," Bradley gasped, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You nodded. "She made me nervous. Really upset me. So I grabbed Noah and ran for my car. After I got Noah in, I tripped and fell when I was trying to get the driver's door open. I guess I fucked up my arm pretty good. But I sped out of the parking lot away from her. Away from Meredith."

You had protected Noah. From his own mother. What the hell was Meredith doing?

Bradley pushed your hair back away from your face and examined your eyes. You looked upset but not like you were in shock. He let his fingers drift down to your neck and found your pulse was slightly elevated but not erratic. "I'm okay," you told him softly. "Promise."

He kissed your forehead, inhaling your scent. "Let me get your arm cleaned up, Princess." 

------------------------

You sat on the edge of Bradley's bathtub as he knelt on the floor and very gently and patiently cleaned your arm. You watched silently as he used tweezers to remove bits of asphalt from your skin before guiding you back so he could rinse your arm.

"You would make a good nurse," you muttered, and he glanced up at you. 

"Well, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, kissing your fingers before he guided your arm back under the water. "I'm sure you would have done a better job if it wasn't your dominant arm."

You just shrugged as he carefully dried you off and wrapped your arm up in gauze. Neither of you were smiling. He stood and gently helped you to your feet as well, and you buried your face into his warm neck and chest, trying to hold back tears. Because you knew without a doubt that the conversation you and Bradley were supposed to have tonight wouldn't be happening now. 

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his mustache brushed your cheek. "I need to call Meredith."

You nodded, inhaling the smell of sweat and jet fuel from his skin. You liked to think he had skipped the showers so he could rush home to see you. You liked to think he missed you as much as he missed Noah when you weren't around. You wanted to hold onto that.

"I understand," you promised, letting your fingers settle on his abs for a beat before you turned to leave the bathroom. You felt like crying as you sat on the couch and tried to clumsily put your shoes on. But Bradley helped you, looking up at you with a serious expression.

"Thank you."

"For what?" you asked. All you had managed to do was get hurt and turn into an emotional mess over knowing Meredith had been the one to scare you at the park. You felt like an idiot.

"Thank you for protecting Noah, Princess," he replied, rubbing soft circles in your calves through your scrubs. "You don't know what that means to me." 

It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, you and he had been fucking in your bedroom. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he reached up to pull you gently to the floor onto his lap. Very carefully, Bradley helped you wrap your arms around his neck, and he kissed you for a while. 

When he pressed his forehead to yours and stood with you in his arms, you cautiously asked him, "Will you call me?"

"Of course." 

Bradley walked you out to your car and retrieved Noah's carseat. Then he kissed you goodbye as he made you promise to text him when you got home. 

--------------------------

Bradley sat on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. Meredith was apparently hanging around his neighborhood. You got hurt. Noah could have been hurt. Bradley needed to figure this out.

As soon as your text came through, he sighed.

Babysitter: I'm safe at home. I miss you already. You and Noah.

Instead of responding to you like he wanted to, Bradley squared his shoulders and looked at his missed calls. When he tapped on Meredith's name, she answered almost immediately, and Bradley's anger flared inside him.

"Well," she said with a laugh, "I figured I had your attention now. Thank you so much for calling me back, Bradley."

"Meredith," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you. In person. I'll come by in the morning."

-----------------------

She's going to come by in the morning!! Ahhh! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 13

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

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@xoxabs88xox

[prolibytherium]

I love this painting (The Cyclops by Odilon Redon) but it kind of scares the shit out of me. It has a very dreamlike quality and also I have a lot of dreams about giant things pursuing me/watching me so it's a distressing combo (again, love it.)

[theoraclenextdoor]

pac: your future spouse’s spiritual gifts and abilities

all images from pinterest and google. dividers from @/roseschoices

what spiritual gifts and abilities does your fs possess? take a deep breath, clear your mind if only for a moment, and ask yourself that question. your pile is the one that lights you up inside. please take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. and above all, be kind to yourself and each other.

🚪 p.s. i love feedback and i’m somewhat new to love readings. please pop in my inbox, leave tags or comments with your thoughts!

©️ 2023-2024. cancersstellium. all rights reserved

O N E (cosmo & wanda)

pile one, your future spouse possesses a clear sense of spiritual and moral right and wrong. their first dealings in this were most likely from their family’s financial background, which was rooted in scarcity and fear of lack. your fs has since shed that belief through hard work and dedication to uncover the universal truth that abundance is free flowing. as universal law is something that resonates within them so deeply, they’re likely an avid reader of various belief systems like confucianism and taoism that insist on a way of life. your future spouse is not someone who interested in organized religion, law, or politics. instead they favour understanding the world as a whole and natural laws that govern it. their clear understanding of right and wrong and their own morals and beliefs will help you uncover what is hidden within you as well. however, your future spouse tends to forget to consider the emotional weight their words may carry, favoring honesty over kindness. in you, they may find that you can be both genuine and honest while being kind at the same time. what a match.

vibes: aquarian moon or aquarius dominant, fire venus, post-modernism, love of the arts and drama, 12h water sign, twin flame energy— you’ll both have to learn something to successfully be together

(five of coins; six of rods; six of blades; justice)

T W O (mulan & shang)

pile two, your future spouse is a master manifester. they are blessed with a charismatic and divine presence that makes other flock to them. they’ve found that what they desire seems to come to them effortlessly, in a stroke of luck or series of “coincidences”. and more than once, they’ve found themselves the centre of attention. they have a strong sense of self, a clear vision of their desires, and express genuine gratitude . this is someone who would likely resonate with the teachings of abraham hicks. your fs spends a lot of time daydreaming and is not attached to material things, instead desiring a comfortable home life and/or dreaming of settling down with “the one”. however, they tend to lose focus as they try to share their gifts in efforts to please everyone. this is because they have that strong sense of family and a desire for harmony within their home life mentioned previously. you are more than aware to the fact that pleasing everyone is not possible and only leads to burn out in the end. perhaps your presence in their life can help them mitigate their desire to give so much of themselves as you teach them that pleasing everyone is not sustainable. how beautiful.

vibes: debilitated ketu, mixologist (mocktails & cocktails), old soul energy, avatar the last airbender specifically the air nomads, dreamer energy, yellow and pink energy

(nine of elixirs; ten of rods; ten of elixirs; judgment)

T H R E E (suki & sokka)

pile three, i get the sense that some of you here are coming from pile two or were leaning towards choosing that one. the cards show that your future spouse’s spiritual gifts lie in their intuition and clairaudience. there’s a dreamlike quality to this pile which strongly hints that they often receive intuitive messages through prophetic dreams or dreams with obvious meaning. because your future spouse does not come from a spiritual background, these dreams and heard messages were often dismissed as a “child’s fantasy” or a vivid imagination. their gift is something most likely passed down from their paternal side, though your future spouse’s home life has not always been easy. despite a difficult childhood, your fs is in touch with their inner child and has since healed their own wounds. as indicated by the king and page of elixirs appearing together in this reading, your future spouse is someone connected to the depths of their inner power, and yet remains sensitive and loving. however, their vivid dreams come with a flip side. your fs is prone to nightmares when they are not in alignment with what they are truly meant for. that is to say, when they are stressed, their vivid dreams reflect that and become vivid nightmares. perhaps encouraging them to keep a private dream journal would help them better feel their way through both through their dreamworld and their waking one. you will find peace in one another.

vibes: prioritizes smelling good, tends to lean towards aquatic scents, “i had a feeling that..”, “this reminds me of a dream i had..”, deja vu, loves naps, mentor/teacher energy

(king of elixirs; the high priestess; page of elixirs; nine of blades rx -> six of elixirs)

F O U R (flynn rider & rapunzel)

pile four, your future spouse isn’t someone who is inherently spiritual. at most, they have a vague, underlying belief in karma. they understand and resonate with phrases like “you reap what you sow” and “what goes around comes around”. but, it feels like they’re still “asleep” to spiritual world as a whole. while its unclear what spiritual gift your future spouse possesses, they are someone of genuine kindness and insane generosity. this is someone who always seems to be in good fortune and is likely reaping the rewards of good work done in a past life. the universe is a close friend of theirs in this lifetime. somehow, your fs is also someone who is not inclined to do something that is not asked of them. whether obliviousness or laziness, this conflicts with their generous nature. as a result, they’re going through a rude awakening right now as the universe is showing them a little tough love to get them back on track. it’s likely that you’ll meet them while they are still in the throes of feeling sorry for themselves. your future spouse is someone you get to educate about your esoteric interests (ex. astrology, tarot, etc) should that be something you’re willing to do. have faith and they’ll find theirs too. how fun!

vibes: liar, liar (1997), being oblivious to signs from universe, a very quiet mind

(six of coins; page of coins; eight of rods; the tower -> eight of elixirs)

F I V E (esmerelda & phoebus)

pile five, your future spouse’s gifts is their intellect, both spiritual and mental, and their own energy. your fs’ inner world is rich and within them are balanced energies of the divine masculine and divine feminine. because of this, they have the tools and resources to solve their own problems and pave their own paths. your fs is patient enough to see a plan through and is guided by inspired action on what steps to take. this is someone who tends to follow their mind over their emotions. they rely on their own validation and are not easily swayed by others’ opinions. however, while shuffling and even interpreting the cards, a sort of ‘scatterbrained’ energy was heavily felt. often, your future spouse lacks focus and struggles with taking the first steps necessary. they have an ingrained aversion to risk, though they have become accustomed to brushing this off as procrastination. this is likely the result of doubt due to a past “failure” and is a lesson they are meant to overcome in this lifetime. perhaps you can impart wisdom from your own experiences on them. there is no such thing as failures, only learning opportunities. what is meant for us will not pass us by. you two make a valiant couple.

vibes: aaron burr, wait for it (hamilton the musical), nick miller, north node in sagittarius, north node in aries, “there is freedom waiting for you, on the breezes of the sky, and you ask "what if i fall?" oh but my darling, what if you fly?” (erin hanson)

(two of rods; strength rx; the fool rx -> three of blades; king of blades)

S I X (wade & ember)

pile six, most of you reading this are empaths and healers. your future spouse was gifted with a spiritual awakening early on in their life. they have a vast understanding of the forces at work in the universe and because of this, their relationship to life and the divine is truly beautiful. they are very attentive to their own inner world. they understand themselves and are at peace with all parts of them, even the parts they can’t understand. this is someone who is very accountable for their own thoughts, beliefs, feelings and actions. and they want to connect with a partner who wants to explore themselves and the world in this way. while this is a gift, it comes with a flip side. your future spouse is prone to overthinking and sometimes gets so caught up in their own desire to understand the universe that they become victims to a sort of “analysis paralysis”. they work try to understand the how and why behind a situation that they often end up missing out on genuine opportunities that are meant to carry them forward. perhaps you can teach them to slow down and trust that what is meant will always find them. you two are the definition lovingkindness.

vibes: red roses, glasses, “last night i realised something”, synchronicities, the friend you always come to advice for, fomo, spider-man comics, leo placements, mtv hoodie, air rising

(the wheel of fortune; queen of coins; the magician rx; queen of elixirs rx)

[creature-wizard]

Is it true that Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead is 100% accurate and historically well-documented, just like the Gospels were written by eyewitnesses?

While many Christians claim that the Gospels were written by eyewitnesses, there is no reliable evidence of this. In fact, the writer of Luke outright says that their information came from others. (Luke 1:1-4.) Meanwhile, whoever wrote the other three gospels didn't identify themselves or cite their sources at all. They also describe numerous events that none of Jesus's followers would have been around to see. (None of them would have been hanging out with Herod when his daughter asked for John's head on a silver platter!)

We can very easily rule out the writer of Matthew as an eyewitness to... like, anything. How? The writer of Matthew clearly borrows a lot of material from Mark while embellishing on it in ways that just don't make sense.

You know how Mark 11 describes Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a borrowed colt? In a very clumsy attempt to make this story sound more like a fulfillment of prophecy, the writer of Matthew has Jesus riding in on not only the colt, but also on its mother! It's actually downright hilarious because the writer of Matthew very clearly misunderstood the poetic language of the quoted passage (Zechariah 9:9) and failed to realize that the passage is only referring to one equine!

(Also, if you read all of Zechariah 9, it's pretty obvious that the writer of Matthew was just skimming through prophetic texts for stuff that sounded like things Jesus did - or supposedly did - because all that stuff about riding in on a donkey was very clearly taken out of context.)

The writer of Matthew also includes a story about darkness falling and the temple veil tearing and a bunch of dead bodies coming to life - a story which is not only found in no other gospel, but isn't recorded by anyone else period.

So we can rule out the writer of Matthew as an eyewitness, much less any kind of trustworthy source. The writer was blatantly twisting information they'd received to sound more like what they thought prophetic texts said, and inserting events that nobody else knew anything about.

It's also highly unlikely that the writer of Mark was an eyewitness, given that the text was written by a fluent Greek speaker, where Jesus's original followers would have been native Aramaic speakers.

Now, whoever wrote the Gospel of John claims to have gotten their information from "the disciple whom Jesus loved," who supposedly wrote all of this stuff down. Like Mark, the earliest texts we have are in Greek, though some people argue it was originally written in Aramaic. But also, the Gospel of John is just... odd. Like, the more you really pay attention to the text and compare it with the other Gospels, the weirder it gets.

You know how Luke places the miraculous catch of fish early in Jesus's ministry? John places it after the resurrection. You know how Matthew, Mark, and Luke have Jesus attack the temple market shortly before Passover - you know, right before he's crucified? John places this at the beginning of his ministry. A lot of stuff is shuffled around relative to the other Gospels. It also includes the story of Jesus turning water into wine, which is not only absent from the other gospels, but may also be an oral tradition influenced by the Dionysian mysteries. Also, the text goes hard to present Jesus as this kind of otherworldly being in a way that none of the other canonical Gospels do. And the whole narrative has this kind of dreamlike, surreal quality.

Regardless of what the author claims about getting all of this information from Jesus's own very beloved disciple, it just doesn't make a lot of sense that this would be an eyewitness account, either. It reads like the other gospels: a collection of stories that probably began as oral tradition, assembled into a cohesive narrative intended to illustrate how the author perceived Jesus.

Like the story of Jesus turning water into wine, the story of Lazarus's resurrection is also only found in the text of John. And we already know from Matthew's thing with the two donkeys, and the weird story about three hours of darkness and the resurrection of the holy dead, just because a gospels says something happened, doesn't mean it actually happened.

I want you to consider this: I could easily go around saying that Jesus just did whatever. I could say, "yeah, there were these guys who were grievously injured in a fight, then Jesus came along and healed them. I saw it myself. In fact, hundreds of reliable people saw it themselves." Ancient people living back then could do the exact same thing. Now, I'm not saying that each and every tradition about Jesus is just made up from whole cloth, but we have to also remember that people can and do just make things up sometimes. And in fact, there is quite a lot of reason to think that quite a bit was made up about Jesus.

Buckle in, because I'm about to go for the jugular.

You know how each gospel claims that Jesus was bodily resurrected, and people saw his physical form, even touched it? It's like, the big thing in Christianity, right?

There is evidence in the New Testament itself that this never happened, that this was in fact a tradition that developed a number of years after Jesus's crucifixion.

Enter Paul of Tarsus. Originally antagonistic toward the budding Christian movement, Paul did a 180 after having a visionary experience while heading to Damascus. He tells us about this in his own writing in (1 Corinthians 15). I want you to go and read 1 Corinthians 15:3-8 and pay very, very careful attention to what Paul says and to what he does not say.

In this passage, Paul compares his own visions to whatever the original Apostles experienced after Jesus's crucifixion. It's almost as if the original apostles themselves only saw Jesus in visions or dreams after the Crucifixion. And you might think, "yeah, but Paul also argues for a physical resurrection." And so he does, but that doesn't actually preclude the visionary experience for the other apostles, because Paul himself here clearly thinks that a visionary experience is perfectly sufficient evidence that the man he saw in said vision was physically raised.

This is why I keep recommending Bart D. Ehrman's How Jesus Became God, because this book is all about exploring how the mythology of Jesus emerged and developed over Christianity's early years. Seriously, go read it. It's a good book, and once you're done you'll never be able to look at Christianity and its mythology the same way again.

[purplesoulcollection]

Deon Headcanon about love

He won't be easy to falling in love with (atleast him not us) Poor boy...

His past isn't the most favorable, which has shaped his heart and left it scarred, making him somewhat indifferent to love. I believe he has two potential paths to finding love: either with childhood friends, who give him a reason to keep going in this world, or with someone who can completely captivate him.

He won't quickly realize that he's falling for us. He’s oblivious to the unfolding tragedy in his life, lacking anyone to confide in, leading to a slow burn of emotions. Even when he starts to recognize his feelings, he’ll struggle with hesitation and denial, causing him to feel frustrated and moody.

He’ll likely have negative thoughts about himself and try to distance himself from us, but fate often has other plans, making it hard for him to truly escape. Even with destiny nudging him, he might still hold back from expressing his feelings. He’s the type who guards his vulnerabilities fiercely, viewing a confession as a potential weakness that others could exploit.

If he does find the courage to share his feelings, it might only happen during a perilous moment or when he’s under the influence. Otherwise, he’s too self-aware to openly admit his emotions.

We're being surprised with his confession is the bonus.

Even if we have the same feeling to each other, Deon will still feeling awkward and don't know what to do. He already make the scenario if we reject it so much until he don't know what to do...

What his love language?

I think he will prefer the quality time and the act of service. He's too introvert to doing word of affirmation to often. His heart and mouth can't take any sweet love to be voiced too loud.

And his twisted memory also will shadow him to make any love word (so the possibility Deon's love is becoming toxic also very high, but i choose not to)

So he will treasure any peace moment with us and trying his best to fulfill it. The happy and loving is also like a fleeting moment, so fragile to not becoming murky.

He having a very simple way to love someone even if he don't usually voicing it, so the partner also have to understand him.

The possibility Deon experiences love for someone is just once in his life. He's falling in love is remarkable occurrence in the first place. His heart already bleed from the abandonment issue so he loving someone is the dreamlike feeling for him.

His language body

Nervous but still want it, that's his condition. His body will conflicted with his emotion. His emotion wanting to embrace the love but his body is so still, don't know what to do.

So nervous, becoming red, and his finger is always moving to vent out the stress. But after warming himself with his feeling, finally he can become more relax and not so restrictive.

What irks him?

He falling in love. Yes that's true, but he also having a side who doesn't like our influence that make himself feeling weird. But he won't attack us, because he's still the part of Deon, even if he's more ruthless.

At the best he can do is act a little bit of harsh, he cannot make us hurt because it'll also break his heart. He's still Deon after all.

Random fact

He prefer the moment he can relax himself with us in his room than to go outside. The outside full of trouble that waited him to be troubled.

He like to cuddle us instinctively. He needs the warmth from our body to keep relaxing himself.

Stroke our hair a lot. Think that our hair is his stress venting until we mad.

Like to stare our doing with tender and soft gaze. He prefer to seeing us happy than being sad. He having enough of sadness.

Don't like pranks. So try to suppressed our prank side.

Because his sensitivity of light, he have to sleep with the light is off.

Nightmare? He have, His habit of sleeping is delirious. His past always makes him feeling haunted and all we know is that we can stroke his hair, smooth the creases on his forehead and sing soothing lullabies before he fi.

PDA? Please, he can't do that. He prefer to doing that at private moment. At the best he can do in the public is holding hand.

Possessiveness? He have it. So try not to be so close with us. His other side will revenge it with blood splattered. But Deon itself will became so moody until we explain and cuddle his jealousy.

We can be anything, human or devil because Deon himself is the ace of the both side.

His merge of personality will make Deon become more possesive than before. So don't try to stimulate him. We also will be the only motivation he have to not doing suicide right away. We have to literally beg him not to do it.

He himself is only soft to us and ruthless to anybody, so loving him the best is the only way to return his softness.

His smell probably will the subtle scent of blood intertwined with the aroma of grass. He's having it so much until it imprints in the body.

His hair is not so soft as it's appear, the war and stress make the hair not so healthy as it seems.

He's ticklish but having no asthma. So safe to be tickle, but he will also revenge it.

He having so many clothes in different style, but will obey if we want to dress him.

Don't have any tattoo and piercings either. He dislikes the pain its bring.

He won't be cheated. He know the best the pain of being tossed away, he even tried to not indulge to his heart even if he fails so no way he wanted to cheat around.

After everything is ending Deon and us will be refugee and living in the quiet place to living as the best as he could. And having a child like himself and us

He will loving his child and us like we're his greatest treasure he having. Killing is the one of his way to protect.

The end

[sitp-recs]

Between the Power Lines by @tackytigerfic (M, 3k)

For Harry Potter, all roads eventually lead to Draco Malfoy. Or: this is not an AU! It's just Harry and Draco meeting by chance in an imported food shop in Connecticut and going on a road trip together. Featuring motels, cacti, Americana, and a hefty dose of pining.

In New Orleans, they got drunk on Bourbon Street, and Malfoy danced on his own (arms bare, laughing; Harry could have watched him all night) and later on, so late it was almost morning, they let themselves into the St Louis Cemetery—Malfoy unpicking the lock so sweetly—and walked around until the sky was pink-edged with the promise of another day’s heat. Then they sat on the steps of a crypt, watched over by sightless eyes of the statue of an angel. She looked exhausted rather than sad, Harry thought, and that made a lot of sense when he thought about his own longstanding, dull-edged grief.

It’s been ages (or 2 years) since I last wrote a rec for Tacky (I usually write for other readers, except when I’m reccing friends - then I write for them) and their birthday was the perfect excuse to put my reccing muscles back to work. I almost bailed out because I know this is one of T’s own faves and “what if I don’t do it justice?” but that tired angel banner has been sitting in my drafts for 3 long years and it deserves a proper rec!

Where to even begin? Anyone who knows Tacky is aware of their superb prose - rich and nuanced, compassionate, effortlessly funny, with a strong sense of place and a soft spot for suds scenes and filthy m-rated sex I mean devastating romance. Their writing breathes heart and personality, very much like Tacky themself. So knowing that this fic came out exactly as they intended it to should be enough to make you go read this right now, but in case you need further incentive, see below all the reasons why this oneshot is so special to me:

1. The *vibes*: if you thought that 3k is nowhere near enough to build the sexiest, most intriguing Americana atmosphere you’ve seen, think again. The aesthetics are impeccable here, decorating the beautiful and strange landscape - cacti and cheap motels included - into something peaceful and desolate, an overarching melancholy making it even more compelling. The dialogue is brilliant but the silences are just as loud and meaningful, with a quiet intimacy and a dreamlike quality that make you feel as if you're intruding a memory.

2. The romance: at this point everyone and their dog know that pining!Harry is Tacky's jam - they luxuriate in making us all suffer with him until the realization that Draco has been loving him back all along slaps us in the face. Harry is so stupid and desperate and wanton, I love it. And the way Tacky reinvents this delicious trope to make it work in new angsty ways blows my mind. Imo the slow burn is particularly effective here, a feat in any 3k story, because the narrative gives us so much character insight. We learn all the little things that make these two lonely boys tick as we watch their ever-changing perception of each other evolve from a tentative truce to reluctant confidants to a comfortable, easy love that comes naturally and earned. We often get those bits of information from imagery and emotions alone, no dialogue needed, and a road trip is the best way to explore those dynamics in a smooth, unhurried pace.

3. The journey: this is truly an immersive journey, not only physical as we keep jumping from one destination to the next, but also emotional, as we learn more about their vulnerabilities and desires the more they gravitate towards each other. This story shows that being far away from home can be both freeing and grounding, when you’re stuck with your hot enemy someone who knows about your darkest hour. It gives you the chance to heal and visualize a different future without forgetting your past or letting go of that which has shaped who you are. I love their chance encounter and how this poignant 30k love story is told in such impressive economy of words.

TL;DR: if you’re a short form fan and prone to melancholy like me believe me when I say it doesn’t get any better than this. The whole road trip shebang mixing grief, romance and nostalgia wrapped in Tacky’s lush writing is a gift to any reader and an elegant work of art. Enjoy!!!

[gratelove]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I hope you enjoy🧡💜

Pumpkins and Promises

Kenny Liu x Reader

On a Halloween night filled with unexpected warmth, you and Kenny carve pumpkins by the fire, finding comfort and connection in each other’s company. Amid the shadows of the strange town, a gentle kiss reveals a flicker of hope and light between you both.

Warnings: FLUFF🧡

The fire crackled softly in the small room, casting flickering shadows that made the space feel safe and warm, a refuge from the darkness pressing in from outside. Halloween had taken on an eerie, haunting quality in this strange town, but here, by the firelight with Kenny, you felt at ease. You both sat on the floor, newspapers spread out in front of you to catch the mess from pumpkin carving. Between you lay carving tools and seeds, along with a growing sense of closeness that neither of you had dared speak of until now.

Kenny was focused intently on his pumpkin, carving delicate lines and shapes with a precision that surprised you. His usual serious expression softened in the glow of the fire, and he looked younger somehow, more relaxed. You couldn’t help but watch him, smiling to yourself.

“What?” he asked, catching you in the act, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he glanced up at you.

“Nothing,” you replied, chuckling and lifting your pumpkin to show off your work. “I just think you’re way better at this than I am. Look at mine—it’s got too many teeth, and I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to be.” You gestured to the crooked grin you’d somehow managed.

Kenny laughed, his eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart flutter. “It’s got character,” he said, grinning. “And besides, I’ve had a lot of practice. My mom used to make the best Jack-o’-lanterns when I was little.”

As he spoke, his voice softened, and you could see a wistful look pass over his face. Without thinking, you reached out and gently laid your hand over his. “She’d be proud of you,” you said quietly.

His fingers curled around yours, and he gave your hand a small squeeze, looking up to meet your gaze. “Thanks,” he murmured, holding your gaze for a long moment. The firelight flickered in his eyes, casting a warmth that made your pulse quicken. It was as if the two of you were cocooned in your own world, the shadows of the town left somewhere far behind.

After a quiet beat, you both returned to your pumpkins, the only sounds the gentle scraping of tools and the crackling of the fire. You couldn’t help but glance over at his progress—perfectly even eyes, a neat mouth with tiny, intricate details. When he finally held it up, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, laughing.

“Okay, show-off,” you teased.

Kenny chuckled, glancing at your pumpkin again. “Yours has way more personality,” he replied, his tone teasing but warm. The two of you laughed, your voices filling the cozy space, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist.

As the laughter faded, he looked at you, his expression shifting to something softer, more vulnerable. “It’s been a long time since anything felt… normal,” he said quietly. “Thank you for this.”

You felt your heart ache at the emotion in his voice. “You don’t have to thank me, Kenny. I’m just glad we’re both here… together.”

He held your gaze, his eyes intense and filled with something unspoken. Slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered against your cheek, and you felt your breath catch as he leaned closer, his gaze dropping to your lips. The warmth from the fire wrapped around you both, making the moment feel almost dreamlike.

Then, softly, his lips met yours. The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle question, but as you responded, it deepened, growing warmer and more certain. His hand found yours, fingers entwining as you melted into him, the world outside fading away. In that moment, there was only Kenny, only the firelight, only the feeling of safety you’d found with him in this haunted, twisted place.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, his forehead rested against yours. Kenny’s fingers were still entwined with yours, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. He smiled, a soft, rare smile that sent a wave of warmth through you.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Kenny chuckled and you couldn’t help that your smile grew wider.

“I’ve wanted you to do that for so long.” Kenny leaned in again, leaving a lingering kiss on your lips.

“Well, I’ll make sure to do it more often then.”

“Promise?” You asked, your voice breathy.

“Promise,” he winked, an adorable grin across his face. “Happy Halloween,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled back, your heart still pounding. “Happy Halloween, Kenny.”

You sat there, pumpkins glowing beside you, your hands still joined as the fire crackled on. In that quiet, stolen moment, Halloween felt magical. You felt it in each other, carving out a place of light together amid the darkness.

[ineffableigh]

I have a lot of thoughts about how DIFFERENT this first meeting between Crowley and Shax feels, cinematically speaking...

Like, it just FEELS really weird, doesn't it?

Crowley's alone on some bench and gets a Typical Spy coming over and talking to him, then Shax right after. But something about the aggressive depth of field, the SUPER BRIGHT color grading, how we can see through Crowley's glasses with UNUSUAL ease, the weirdly central framing of the whole thing. Rainbow lens flares all over the place.

Feels weird. Something's off.

Big rainbow lens flare...

Lens flare frames Crowley in the shot even though that... doesn't make sense? I think?

Everyone in the shots for this scene are dressed VERY drably, in browns and blacks and greys, so with the color grading it makes Crowley REALLY stand out.

MANY of the shots are framed with a lot of space around them, as well, and it feels super fucking weird. Especially shots like this one, where there's a lot of dead space and just a SLOW ZOOM straight toward them.

"D'you ever think what's the point...?"

Very big dreamlike quality here, so I wonder. I wonder.

OR, it's highlighting the separation of Crowley from Hell. His jacket almost looks blue in these shots, especially compared to the vibrant reds Shax has on. It's quite stark, now that I notice it!

And then the next time she shows up, later the same day (allegedly!), like. I know it's afternoon or sundown but it still feels ABSURDLY different. Different camera work, much duller color, no weird filters or flares.

Anyway that's my brain dump for the day lol. Maybe in the first one, Crowley is dreaming but Shax can even show up there, y'know?

[augustinetwo]

🦇 Long Cold Front Analysis Incoming ᝰ.ᐟ 🦇

(Under the cut for convenience!!)

What I find so great about Cold Front is how easy it is to get attached to Augustine and Winnie. They feel so real, despite being relatively simple characters in a simple story. When you play it, you can mostly guess what's going to happen, but it didn't pull at my heartstrings any less. So, what about them makes them so relatable?

Both Augustine and Winnie are experiencing the bittersweet process of growing up and maturing. Coming of age is something that everyone goes through, no matter how they cope with it. The two of them both exhibit more juvenile traits and mindests, while still feeling more mature and not exactly childish. A lot of people in their late teens and early twenties, maybe even later on, might feel like they're in the body of an adult with the mind of a child.

The two of them want to move on from their childhood, to grow and overcome these things, but in a way, they are still clinging onto their past. They're eternally tied together, because they've been the center of each other's lives for years, and when you're close with someone at those ages for such a long span of time, they become a part of you. (Maybe even so much so that you share a dreamlike coma of sorts.)

Augustine was originally an outgoing, rambunctious kid who was rather extroverted and extremely blunt. His boisterous and upfront personality gained him many friends when younger, mostly since that's how most kids are. But, over time, his spark dulled, and he became bitter. Jealous.

He's a hypocrite. He knows that, and he hates it, but still, he can't seem to help it. Augustine spirals into a swirling mess of self hatred and dissatisfaction. He grows to destest himself and Winnie, because Winnie is everything he wants to be. Yet, at the same time, Winnie nearly embodies everything his past self was, and longed to be. It sickens him to see Winnie basically become what he sees as himself. And yet, he also sees himself as disgusting and is never content with what he's like.

Shadow Winnie, or whatever it's called, is just a manifestation of Augustine's insecurities. It just relays to him what he thinks of himself. Winnie doesn't even remotely hold any of those sentiments, but because Augustine thinks of himself like that, he assumes Winnie does, too. Because he assumes that everyone thinks he's worthless and pathetic, since compared to Winnie, he's "nothing."

His barrier to growing into an adult mindset is to stop assuming what others think of him, a mindest he introduced Winnie to as a child, ironically. I'm not saying that isn't difficult, because it definitely is. Humbling and dragging yourself out of a pit of self hatred is probably one of the most difficlt things you could do.

By the end, we can see that Augustine has grown and matured since he still admires Winnie but doesn't put himself down at all despite that. Not only that, but he's reopening himself to his old qualities, especially bluntness (as in being open about his feelings) and a more cheery attitude. He obviously has things he still needs to work on, but he's trying and getting his way out of that hole, slowly but surely.

Winnie, it seems, is kind of understood by a majority of the CF fandom ... He might seem to be the more outwardly "childish" one, or the one who's better off, but he and Augustine are in a relatively similar mental state. Winnie has trouble understanding boundaries and feelings in general, it seems. More as in, he can understand the feelings internally, but he can't exactly outwardly express it well. (Maybe because he's pretty blunt and direct.) This doesn't, however, mean he doesn't know what's going on. In fact, he seems to have a feeling that something is wrong, but since he doesn't know for sure that the incident was the root of the problem or exactly what Augustine is feeling/thinking, he doesn't bring it up.

What Winnie fears most is losing Augustine. Augustine was originally the one who drew him out of a spiral, so it saddens him to see Augustine putting himself down and being so negative. It reminds him of his younger self. He would hate for one of his longest, genuine friends to hate him for some obscure reason he doesn't know.

From his point of view, Augustine started growing distant from him when he began succeeding. That Augustine didn't intend on staying close friends, and Winnie clinging to him and trying so hard to keep him was pissing him off.

He prides himself on his skills, yeah, and he might just have a bit of trouble with social cues, (Racheldraws said he might be autistic, so that might be where the Winnie infantalization comes from) but still, Winnie is someone that cares so deeply. Augustine has been the one constant in his life, and he's just as scared as anyone else over growing up and moving on and leaving home. While Winnie is well liked, Augsutine has a biased perspective, and likely sees Winnie as more popular and loved than he actually is.

What Winnie needed to learn was to better respect people's boundaries, and let go of his past. Things can't stay the same forever. People change and grow, you change, and people can part amicably over time. And that's okay.

I also love how the miscommunication isn't one-sided and both people have done something wrong. A friendship, any relationship, really, is like a symbiotic relationship. You give, and they're supposed to give in return. Winnie and Augustine, over time, lost sight of what they were meant to give, and then were upset when the other stopped giving their part of the friendship.

That is because over time as they became older, their priorities and goals changed. And that's perfectly fine! The main problem was that they didn't adjust the friendship to fit their growth and age!

Sorry for yapping or if this was all stupid my cf and studio investigrave brainrot is really bad

[too-antigonish]

Tux Tuesday: String Quartet Edition

Morse doesn't just wear his tux so he can stand around and look pretty.

Nope, sometimes he wears his tux to go to a performances of the Debussy String Quartet...

For instance...

...at about 14 minutes into S3E4: Coda, Morse attends an outdoor concert at one of the Oxford colleges. The performance includes Debussy's String Quartet in G minor, Op. 10 (L.91). What we see played is a brief excerpt of the beginning of the third movement, "Andantino, doucement expressif."

Debussy’s only string quartet (composed in 1893) was revolutionary for its time. He kept the usual four-movement structure but used harmonies, rhythms, and tonal shifts that broke every rule in the book. It was all of a piece with the French milieu of the time--the same one that brought us Symbolist poets and Impressionist painters.

The third movement, which appears in this episode, is drastically different from the other 3 which are highly rhythmic, energetic, and use a lot of repeating themes. The  Andantino is still intense, but in a really sustained, dreamlike way.

Lots of music used in Endeavour has contains an element related to the plot or some other nod to the episode. In this case I can’t see any connection with the possible exception of a few characters who might be seen as similar to Debussy himself. He was a man renowned for both mismanagement of money and his absolutely horrible treatment of the women in his life.

The Alban Berg Quartet has a good recording:

String Quartet in G Minor, Op. 10, L. 91: III. Andantino, doucement expressif

If you’re looking for something a little different, I much prefer Ravel’s quartet to Debussy’s. He hated Debussy (because almost everyone did) but still used his quartet as a model and you can hear the influence. It’s much more of a banger though. Also, Quatuor Ébène is amazing:

BBT20 Sunday 11 June 2023 - Quatuor Ébène plays its signature work Ravel's String Quartet in F

Morse also saw a Beethoven quartet played in Oracle:

At around 36 minutes into S7E1: Oracle, just before he meets Ludo, he is watching a performance of Beethoven's String Quartet No. 13 in B-flat Op. 130. It's the 5th and most famous movement, the "Cavatina: Adagio molto espressivo."

The quartet is one of the composer’s Late Quartets (12-16). When they were first published, a lot of people seriously thought he’d lost it. They were just that “different” from what had come before. As is the way with such things, they’re now generally regarded as masterpieces.

The Cavatina from the 13th Quartet (which like several of the late quartets was written with more than the usual four movements) is additionally regarded as one of Beethoven’s greatest works overall. One of its biggest claims to fame is that it was included on the Voyager Golden Record that was sent into space in the seventies.

While I like the Cavatina, it’s not my favorite—and it’s definitely a piece where the quality of the performance makes all the difference. I’ve heard versions that are breathtaking and versions that are deadly dull.

Like the Debussy, this is a piece without an obvious connection to the episode. Given the Voyager connection, I desperately wish they had found a way to use this piece in Apollo. It would have been perfect. It’s quite literally music that we chose to send into space.

I love the Takács Quartet’s recordings:

Beethoven: String Quartet No. 13 in B-Flat Major, Op. 130 - 5. Cavatina. Adagio molto espressivo

If you need something to wake you up after the Cavatina, I highly recommend the Grosse Fuge. It’s one of my all-time favorite pieces. It was the original final movement to the 13th String Quartet but folks hated it so much that Beethoven replaced it and published it separately. Some quartets still perform it separately and some put it back with the rest of the 13th. Either way it’s non-stop stunning.

Beethoven: Grosse Fuge in B-Flat Major, Op. 133

[metalgirlie111]

Song of the day!

I really like the album rosenrot! I think features some songs which branch out embracing a more thoughtful feel, such as ein lied, which are much softer, stirb nicht vor mir is definitely not heavy like a lot of Rammstein’s songs showcasing their impressive range which still retains that signature rammstein style which really brings everything together. Stirb nicht vor mir explore the idea that we have a soulmate possibly, someone who we are destined to be with and the possibility of never meeting them because they may be dead. The lyrics of this song are very poetic, and Till’s vocals are really evocative and beautiful on this track. While Rammstein perfectly encapsulates the aggressive feel on a lot of tracks, he’s also a very creative emotional artist, as shown in his other works, he is really versatile and has a lot of emotional depth and range. The song features female vocals from Sharleen Spiteri also known as bobo who was collaborated with them before on tracks such as Engel, in which she is heard. I think this song is really beautiful, its hard to encapsulate and put into words the feelings this song evokes and the theme it explores. Its amazing to think about the power of such a love and how we crave for it, and the loneliness and despair of possibly never finding it, like missing someone with no name and face, but feeling that yearning that somehow, somewhere you’ll find that person who loves you with their entire soul. There is a dreamlike quality of the song, almost like a dream, with the stark reminder of the inevitability of mortality which gives us meaning, but can also harshly separate us from what we love, its a force we can truly never comprehend or control and there is beauty to it. There is a pleading quality in the phrase “dont die before me” I think it also resonates with those who experience anticipatory grief or anxiety. The ethereal feel of the song is really prominent to me, like calling out waiting for an answer, with only your own faith, believing that you’ll find the perfect love. Its a severely underrated track, and I’d suggest giving a listen and really listening to the lyrics!

Thanks for reading

Em

[moondyad]

so i kinda want to talk more about this. The Acolyte and Qimir.

Qimir's true identity was a surprise to me because it felt like there were no smart hints at him being sith. none of the jedi got funny feelings around him. Mae didn't even recognize that the person behind the mask and her goofy accomplice were similar. he mentioned Mae's master would be mad she was using weapons because she wasn't supposed to but? he was her master and let her do it? the reveal seemed so out of left field, shocking for shock value alone. i read that his identity wasn't even supposed to be revealed until season 2, so maybe there was supposed to be more buildup to that moment? doing a subversive character who appears one way but is actually another takes a lot of nuance that just wasn't there. it's extremely hard to change a character from "just a lil guy" to big baddie. and yeah, i know he's in hiding and the whole point of this front is to trick everyone into thinking he is actually harmless (y'know aside from making poisons and whatever other malicious side jobs he does). he literally kills some of our main characters as soon as he's revealed (rip Yord, i'll miss you). but because of his previous presentation it just felt like a joke to me? their deaths all had this dreamlike, this isn't real quality to the point i have to remind myself that these characters are actually dead. i could not become invested in the rest of the episode because him being sith took me so far out of the immersion. idk if this is going too far in the crybaby direction, so i'll just say this characterization was not executed well in my opinion.

i must have missed it, because i was so confused, but apparently Kylo's theme plays after he's revealed? which i read was a very intentional choice. so, my preferences aside and lore cap on... is Qimir possibly the founder of the Ren? the concept that the knights of Ren are based on? This is the gist of the ideology:

which actually does track so far with Qimir's seemingly random choices. also, Ren, the person Kylo kills to become the leader of the knights of Ren, wears a helmet which is vaguely similar to the one Qimir wears. both helmets have the eyes entirely covered by metal. this would essentially make the wearer blind, if they weren't force-sensitive. "The Ren" is a lightsaber Ren carries on him (i know this is all very confusing, bear with me). perhaps as a tie into the sequels, Qimir's saber eventually goes on to become The Ren. this all could mean that the ideology Kylo attaches himself to all the way in the sequels has roots in sith history in the high republic era. i do love a tie-in, but i wish this reveal hadn't been rushed.

the person, the lightsaber, and the ideology are all called "Ren". don't know who decided that, but it makes explaining or reading about it impossible.

[maddyjones2]

flux

I'm watching flux for the first time in several years. The surreal, dreamlike quality. My goodness, it's pretty. It's such a shame it got butchered. Covid has a lot to answer for.

[qoldenskies]

Thank you for the pain it was delicious, 10/10 will order again

I have so many feelings about it HHHH I feel like I accidentally dug myself into a situation (or you did it on purpose you mad lad) that made everything hit harder.

When I first started reading Caged Lungs, like the first third or even quarter I was convinced it was a bad dream. Or like a bad trip from the mushrooms on the pizza. That oh, everyone's gonna just wake up and it'll be fine, there's gonna be reassurances and comfort. But then... It's kind of like a dawning horror situation when I realized more and more that hey, this is real. It's taking chunks out of their lives, they're still doing day to day things but it's getting worse. I didn't even catch it during the fight with Hypno, I just shrugged and went huh, that's weird.

But as it mentions the time crawling and they keep getting worse and Donnies mental health plummeting...

I hit the end and panicked because hey? Wtf? (/pos)

But seeing everything slowly go back to "normal" in Clipped Wings adds to this. Because it's the realization of no, this is real... Or is it? This all happened... Right? Everything should be the way it is but now they're STILL gaslighting him but accidentally this time.

Their denial can only work for so long until it damages both parties. And I feel like it's already there.

This fic has a choke hold on me and I squeal every time I see a new update, unreliable narrator is one of my favorite tropes and you do it SO WELL

:D :D :D YEAASSSS very glad i pulled off the kind of dreamlike quality to caged lungs that i was going for!!! (in some scenes more than others i really tried to accentuate it, like the second-to-last scene with the post-shredder flashback. i mostly used it to draw the most painful contrast i could between how its all ended up vs how it USED to be. very fun to compare the earliest scenes to the final ones though, especially when it comes to donnie's behavior, because it is so painful and jarring) nothing is ever truly MADE UP in donnie's narration, but his grip on reality slips further and further, and with it a lot of the details are twisted (he misinterprets april a lot especially, and also dissociates quite a bit and has memory issues. there's an entire BEATDOWN that you only see the tail-end of because he doesn't remember it, which is probably a good thing considering its one of the most traumatic events from when they were under the curse, probably third behind the murder attempt and the closet. i mean he doesn't remember NOW but..... they do.)

and i hesitate to call their behavior now gaslighting, since gaslighting is an intentional act of abuse intended to make the victim feel like they cant trust themselves and their own memory, etc etc. them covering up the evidence is PLAYING INTO what they did, but they're not denying it (they're doing the opposite, in fact, with how much they're ruminating on it and trying to fix their mistakes, although covering up the evidence is them trying to run away from it to abate their guilt lmao). less lying more omitting the truth, but its still hurting just as much because donnie has conditioned himself to think his memory is unreliable and he "makes things up" because of his "victim complex". even though he's dissociative and is currently struggling with memory issues because of that, he instinctively panics when he gets confused on the details, and they have also conditioned him to be afraid to ASK now, because they would get mad at him for doing it.... its a whole mess. donnie doesn't even know how to communicate his needs anymore, and they dont know they need to ask.

thank you for the ask!!! microwaving this in my brain mmm yumm