#its in the black and white view of the world

[roughentumble]

actually i'm gonna put my tags in the body of the post. like it makes perfect sense to me that they would point to the shire, because as much as i love the shire its VERY similar to the white picket fence 50s fantasy combined with the homesteading "find "unoccupied" land to expand into and build a house from scratch" fantasy. like, all the fantasy races keeping to their own homes and fighting to keep out the Evil Black Scary Orc Invasion IS super fascist.

it's not the only way to view hobbiton. but it osnt somehow incompatible with the world that tolkein wrote. its very very easy to syncretize fascist beliefs into viewing the shire and wanting to live there

Saw some post on here that was about how leftists want to live in Star Trek and conservatives want to live in Dune or Mad Max or something like that; and you know, it's your standard political posturing post, but there was one actual conservative on the reblogs saying that their actual ideal society was more like the "Shire" parts of Lord of the Rings and...you know what? I believe him. More than that, I think that that sort of life is a perfectly reasonable and good thing to want. However, I cannot stress enough the extent to which the actual policies that conservatives support point diametrically away from that.

[kittychicha7]

how my brother shifted on accident (?)

CHICHA’S STORYTIME INCOMING..

ACCESS AUTHORISED.

[FILE.STNNV]-> BROTHER ALIAS - OPEN

okay so.

this is probably going to go shock a lot of shifters, but in a good way. not saying yall are gonna be “OMFG JUSNCUHDSBUCSDN” (…maybe), but like “…what.” yk?

so here’s the start:

me and my brother have a 2 year gap, and when i was 7 and him 9, we lived a tragic moment (can’t speak about it bc of uncomfortable memories, sorry.) and we craved for a new life.

a life where we receive the love and support we deserved, a place where happiness fills the air, where we can have friends, family, lovers etc.

and this was the start of our dr.

we created a new world, a continent with cities, countries with each flags, mottos, citizens, languages, places, all of this for 5 years. and today, here we are, with a note of everything for this world we dreamed of.

and one day.

POOF. SHIFTING APPEARS IN MY LIFE.

i heard about shifting a few times, but never payed much attention to it, bc i wasn’t interest in Hogwarts etc (since all the things i saw abt shifting at this moment was about this). and one day, i peeked into this world, and this was probably one of the best thing i ever did in my life.

i spent nights reading books about shifting, law of assumption, manifestation, etc, and instantly came to tell my brother.

and he followed me.

we made this world real, we made more drs (like for example a Peaky Blinders dr, Spiderman dr and more) which fulfilled our free time.

my brother woke up one morning and hurried to my room, and i will remember those words across any reality.

“Sheryl, I SHIFTED !”

i could see the happiness on his face and his tone, and my heart filled with impatience to know about this new story, and so here it is:

he went to sleep listening to a playlist he created for our main dr (our dream world/better or) and his music slowly faded. he didn’t know what was happening, but the first thing that came in his mind was “omfg i’m shifting.” , and so he repeated affirmations, and opened his eyes in our better or.

he told me about his day, which i won’t tell here bc of privacy, but like he got to school, met his girlfriend and new family, went out with his friends and way more, for two weeks.

little info for all my shifters who are scared bc they don’t know how to visualise:

my brother has an extremely bad sight. let’s say average people have 14-19/20 sight, he has -5/20. doctors feared he was blind, but by growing up, he had a slight view, and today he is able to see, but only gradients of grey, white and black (like an old movie, but with extreme blur). and when he shifted, he saw a colorful life he dreamt of.

every time i tell this story i have shivers, its just so beautiful.

i hope this story helped some peoples. keep shifting, we believe in you, and you have to believe in yourself.

[mcytegg]

mapicc is always so aware of how squishy his friends are, and he is so mindful of it at all times 😭 like i remember during pangis wipe out vod, there was a point where jepexx logged out and he was genuinely so worried and asking what happened bc jepexx was on one heart at that point AJKIXJXJFJWJSJXJDDJDJWJ

[that-binchh]

as much as i love reading cherik fics, i do have to turn off my brain every time because every fic seems to have a line or two about how mutant issues is the most pressing social injustice. and like as a black person, that line is so tone deaf to me because racism in the x-men world is both visible and invisible, which is actually so true to reality that it lowkey makes me sick.

[harbingersecho]

I don't feel pain I never escape I'm under the bed I'm licking the floor

[thornswoggled]

(ch 86, 74, 1, 3)

it took a long time for the manga to finally tell the full story of what happened to chises family, and i think it will take a while longer until we learn the full story of how seth met chise, and what led her to attempt suicide

i wont be "disappointed," per se, if we never see it, because it could come down to yamazaki feeling that the implication is enough, and maybe she just doesnt want to portray it explicitly for any number of reasons. but i think its important that we see her grapple with the memory of it, for the same reasons i rambled on about the dragon curse yesterday

chise is still unwilling to interrogate who she is as a person, for fear that she might not like the answer (see: "i think what i did was cruel, i wonder if im treating these people any differently than i would sheep?") its significant that when we learn of her past, we watch it as a passive observer - her memories are literally presented to her in the form of a tv with a vhs. shes able to watch without participating or being able to change anything. and thats all to be expected - she was a child without autonomy, completely beholden to the actions of adults. but when it comes to her attempt to "fly" - this is something still in fairly recent memory, and a choice she had the means to take. i believe we wont see the immediate events that led to her trafficking until chise reaches a point where she is able to wrestle with her identity and how its been informed by her ptsd. its probably why we also havent seen elias follow up on the above question from 74. if he asks her now, she wont be at a point where shes ready to answer

i think about seth and chises meeting a lot. do you think he followed her for a while before he decided to approach her? what was their brief time together like? its all very compelling to me

[dreamspring]

sigh. people putting oversimplified batman no kill rule discourse on the dash again...

[hightro2]

sometimes there will be a post on here making a general statement about how people should generally act that i might feel differently about and i get such a strong urge to share my thoughts in the tags and then i remember that i can just feel these feelings without announcing it

[monastic-river]

Hm. Bad take spotted. I'm so brave for scrolling away and muttering about lack of nuance instead of engaging

[namelessprince]

you dont understand everywhere that jayson's outfit is white, lizzies is black. literally black and white.

[chappybird]

anyone else get those rpers who make their character a constant victim, and who try to tell you what to do in the actions? or even folks who dictate traits about your character. woe. i may be desperate for rp a lot, but i am so sick of it.

not an uncommon problem but I would say it's much more common amongst immature rpers with very narrow black and white world views. If their character is a victim then they can't be a perpetrator. The other thing is a sense of entitlement and poor RP skills.

[femmefaggot]

ouhh the hypocrisy i love internet so bad

[linkahavocz99]

Influencers husbands have to be trolling right? Right?? RIGHT??!?!?!?!

Look maybe I should stop watching commentary videos but like all these guys are such awful people to their partners it really sucks. No one deserves to be belittled by anybody, least of all their husbands who insists on marrying virgins, forcing them into cosmetic surgeries, making them earn compliments, etc IN ADDITION TO filming their kids for views and clicks. My dad doesn’t even POST about my mom or his three kids OR the pet leopard gecko on facebook and every time my mom says something about how she isn’t happy with her body he immediately follows it up with “ah…[your mom] could leave me and find someone else in a week no problem. She’s so pretty :3”. This man would jump into oncoming traffic for his wife if she asked him to. Every time my mom’s old bosses were treating her poorly my dad would get pissed on her behalf (and now my mom’s new boss gifted him a grill lol?). He previews episodes of Reacher for my mom so she can watch it later and skip the parts that make her uncomfortable at her request. HE WATCHES THE SAME SHOW TWICE JUST TO SPEND TIME WITH HIS WIFE. She accompanies him to rock concerts. Sorry to glaze my parents but MAN am I grateful they actually like each other and don’t livestream every ounce of their lives or make podcasts about how celebrating father’s day on the husband birthday shouldn’t be allowed

[cultanthem]

I am tagging all my personal text posts as "cult thoughts" cause this post got tf out of hand (word count) and the tags are a tangled mess.

Also because I am really bad at feeling safe or secure sharing my thoughts but I have to practice it, so posting this with a tag people can block makes things feel a bit less... whatever it is that I feel.

I have overlapping thoughts and opinions about many scenes in Arcane, some of which might be considered hypocritical to have in tandem with others. I disagree with that, but thats neither here nor there.

Jayce's final speech is probably the definitive example of this. My feelings and thoughts are very layered and I do not completely view it in a negative light. In fact, in many ways I love it quite a lot. At the same time, I agree at least in part with just about every criticism I've seen levied against it.

After many poor experiences online I hesitate with sharing my opinions on just about any topic, but part of me wants to make a whole goddamn essay about things I want to rant over.

My friend is looking forward to the PowerPoint I'm making for Jayvik (basically just for us lmao) but my thoughts on just that scene, and even the speech alone, could probably be a whole presentation.

Idk I think there are some really valuable aspects of that scene I really don't beleive it was a total wash.

[svnd14ll1ng]

anyway unrelated im back to writing joy and i have finally got through one page like wth why did that take so long i guess i was just stressing for no reason. but ! ive read it over a few times and actually i feel like i know how joys writing voice is sort of gonna be. i feel like naturally i write very....long? i guess. id say i write pretty but it can be structured weirdly bc thats how i put it together in my brain. so short stories or songs or anything that doesnt really have a central Character i write like that. but then if im writing for like caroline who has very strong voice bc she has a very strong personality; childish, silly, and annoying. so shes very repetitive and deliberate and doesnt quite have a massive vocabulary.

on the other hand just from what ive written about joy after lots of consideration and development - shes the complete opposite of my natural writing voice. all the sentences are very short and direct without much 'flare' to it at all. shes not very...creative i guess. she sees it as she sees which i think would be completely contrasted to if i were to write hal; very long and drawn out inner monologues with a more artistic eye to world around him. i think im gonna sort of lean into that from now on and see where it goes

[creepyclothdoll]

The Devil's Wheel

The Devil’s Wheel

“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”

“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you. 

“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”

The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.

He’s been perfectly polite. 

You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you. 

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”

“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”

He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:

THE DEVIL’S WHEEL

“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”

You examine the wheel. 

The gambling addict

The doting boyfriend

The escaped convict

The dog dad

The secretive sadist

“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion. 

“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”

“Serial wife murderer?”

“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”

The hard worker

The compulsive liar

The animal torturer

The widower

The desperate businessman

The failed musician

The beloved son

“My husband is on here too,” you say. 

“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”

“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”

“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”

You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.

Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity

Round and round it goes. 

The college graduate

The hockey fan

The Eagle Scout

The cold older brother

The charming younger brother

The two-faced middle child

The perfectionist

The slob 

Your husband Dave

Clackity-clackity-clackity.

Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.

The photographer

“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”

“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask. 

“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”

“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.

You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it. 

Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t. 

The cancer survivor

The bereaved

The applicant

Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…

The newlywed

The ex-gifted kid

The uncle

The Badgers fan

“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.

“How lovely,” the Devil says. 

Then it hits you.

Of course.

The weightlifter.

The careful driver.

The manager.

The claustrophobe.

Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.

“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.

“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!” 

The Devil cackles. 

“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”

“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”

“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”