#just yeah people will make certain assumptions

[polyamorousmood]

im theoretically poly, but every time I enter a poly relationship it seems like I'm always giving more of myself away than everyone else is willing to. Sometimes it seems like my attachment style just works better in monogamous relationships than it does poly ones. Can I still call myself poly if I try to avoid poly relationships because of that?

You can do whatever you want forever, so jot that down. Don't know how many times I have to say it lol 😂 (no shade to you, though, dear asker)

But, yeah, if you call yourself poly but aren't willing to date multiple people and have your partners date multiple people... that's probably going to mean you have to explain yourself a lot😂 So do it if you're cool with that, or don't mention it if you want to simplify conversations. Totally up to you. Whatever.

I think people get really bogged down in labels. They're not branded on your forehead. You can call yourself anything today, and change it tomorrow. You can coin a phrase! "non-practicing polyam" or some shit. You can privately think of yourself as poly and not really mention it to anyone else. You can just call yourself polyamorous but say you're polysaturated with one person lmao. It doesn't fucking matter dude!

Also ambiamorous is a term people use too, if that jives better with you.

[lilalilan]

There's just something kind of lonely about being trans in a way that doesn't line up with the mainstream narratives about transness

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, noncon, somnophilia

follow up to this part one

gn reader

Yeah, he kidnaps you within the same day…

He knows it isn’t inherently right, but he can justify it! You see, if anyone else were to find out your technique, you’d be in a lot of trouble—and by trouble, he means certain death or worse.

You’re a paradox. If he’d reported his find to the elders, they’d surely have sent assassins, given how terrified they are of the unknown—and you’re worse than an unknown—you’re a threat to jujutsu’s very foundation. He wouldn’t be surprised if they’d make weapons out of your body until nothing was left of you—just think about it—a bullet made from your flesh would have the instant power to disintegrate a curse on the spot. Or worse, they’d keep you alive and locked up somewhere, feeding you only to drain you of a dozen blood bags per day—like a farm.

Yes, this was better for you—with no one knowing of your existence except him. He’s the only one who can keep you safe.

Of course, you think he’s crazy. And he doesn’t blame you. You were just abducted by a stranger in the streets who not only insists that you’re an anomaly but wears a blindfold and claims to be a wizard out to protect you from people who would harvest your blood. Yeah, he wouldn’t believe him either.

The whole situation is messy, but at least you’re alive.

He gives you your own room. Of course, he’s not out to make you uncomfortable. You have your own room, bed, and bathroom, which is where you spend most of your time.

He can’t blame you for that, either. He won’t force you to spend time with him even though he wants to. But he’s not entirely innocent either—watching you through the cameras in the ceiling. It’s funny, but even on tape, you’re crystal clear. It’s calming to watch. Everything else makes his eyes hurt, hence the blindfold—but even that is but a dull salve. You’re the cure.

You warm up to him after a month or so. You come out of your room. He can tell you’re looking for weak spots to escape from, but you won’t find any. He’s gotten better at reading you now—having busied himself learning the language of your body looking at you without your knowledge. He only feels slightly guilty about it.

He can’t stop thinking about touching you, though. It really doesn’t have to be much—he’s never really been much of a playboy, despite people’s assumptions. Women and men have never been all that appealing when what he sees is everything they’re trying to hide. Though he has tried it a few times, he usually just takes care of it on his own if he needs to.

He's needed to a lot in the past weeks. But he promises himself he won’t force you into anything. That wouldn’t be fair.

You start talking to him another month later—actual conversations aside from the usual swearing or claims to let you go. No, you begin asking questions about the jujutsu world. He can’t tell if it’s because you’re curious or seeking information that might aid in your escape or if it’s simply a ploy to lower his guard, but it’s clear you still think he’s delusional. Either way, he doesn’t mind humoring you. He even tries demonstrating limitless for you, holding different objects as well as himself midair—but you seem convinced he’s just some talented crook. You’ve seen more compelling magic acts before, you say. He laughs.

He'd show you something more convincing, but you can’t see cursed spirits even with special glasses as the curse imbued into the lenses disrupts the moment you put them on, so to you, it’s the same as wearing fakes. In a way, curses don’t exist in your world. He’s tested it out a few times—simple flyheads, just to see what happens, and wow… It’s actually kind of scary how they just crumble upon contact with you—no residuals or anything left to prove that they were ever even there.

The only way to prove it to you would be to let someone else get mangled in front of you. Of course, it would only look like a body getting warped beyond recognition by the air—but he’s sure at that point, you’d no longer be able to assign normal logic to it. Not that he’s going to do any of that. He doesn’t really need you to believe him after all. It wouldn’t change anything. In fact, he prefers you don’t know. The jujutsu world is an ugly one—he doesn’t mind sheltering you from it.

Another four months in, and you’ve gotten comfortable. Well, it’s been half a year, so it’s taken its time, but still, he’s happy to have gotten there. You’re at the point where you ask him for things unrestricted—hobby stuff like books and paints and groceries. 

You’d taken to baking and cooking rather early on, which was great as his kitchen was practically in pristine and unused condition. He can’t blame you for growing tired of his unhealthy food habits—microwave dinners for the most part, other times leftovers he brings home from restaurants, otherwise just candy and pastries. You’d refused to make him anything in the start, but you’d soon caved when you realized he could just as simply refuse to bring you the ingredients. You’re now the designated cook of the house. It’s cute, like having his own little housewife.

Your guard has also dropped. You no longer flinch away when he’s close. Not that he allows himself to touch you improperly—just a little—a few accidental rubs here and then, brushing along you in passing, blaming it on the blindfold even when he can hear your feet pad along the floors in the utter silent emptiness of his house. And other innocent things... laying his hand on your head when he reaches for a glass in the cupboard above you, telling you he wouldn’t want you to hit yourself—brushing your back with his chest and his crotch on your rear. It can’t hurt—it only barely touches and just for a few seconds.

It makes him feel like a filthy drug addict, though. Desperate for a fix, then only wanting more once it’s gone…

He’s been coming to your room to watch you sleep almost every night. You don’t know. You’d be more wary of him if you did. But no, you’re under the impression he’s just some poor, disillusioned man who’s otherwise harmless. You don’t know, and he aims to keep it that way.

It’s for your sake. Just the same as you don’t know curses exist, you needn’t know of the cursed thoughts simmering within his head either. So, he does it for you. To spare you.

That’s what he tells himself when watching you obliviously drink the crushed pills he’s been feeding you for the last many months.

He’d reached his breaking point much sooner than he thought—just after he swore against it, actually. Limiting himself only seemed to make him ever more in need of you. But it was to be expected—he’s never been too good at abiding by rules. He’s always felt above them—even those he sets upon himself.

He’s happy you’ve warmed up to him when you’re awake now, too, utterly unaware you’ve been more than accommodating in your sleep.

Of course, he feels bad! But what you don’t know won’t hurt you.

Besides... give or take a few more months, and you’re bound to invite him into your bed at some point. It’s only natural—humans require contact and will accept what’s available to them. He’s only early in taking what he knows you’d give him sooner or later anyway.

You have no way of knowing how long you sleep, no windows, no watch—no idea you sleep more than half a day every night—half of that time spent with him.

He’d only spooned you at first—his bare hands laid in reverence against your soft skin, reveling in your heat while cuddling into you. It had been nice, but ultimately not enough. He’d resorted to undressing after a while, lying there naked—but still, doing nothing but holding you—skin-to-skin. That, as well, had only been enough for a while—now keeping a hand on you while tugging himself in the other. It seems that every indulgence he allows himself only serves to make the need within grow deeper. You rivet his entire body ablaze like nothing else… and he has this undying feeling pounding in his chest and throughout his body, down to his throbbing dick, that being inside you is going to feel like nothing he's ever felt before.

And you're so cute down there—pretty on his fingers—welcoming. Kissing there makes his candy addiction go to waste. He’s convinced burying his face between your thighs is where he belongs. Right there, smothered in the warmth with your taste flooding his mouth. He could die happy. 

And fuck if it doesn’t look like you need his cock inside you once he pulls away—spit-slicked, swollen, and fluttering for him—crying to be filled and fucked. 

The little sounds you make as he enters you are the sweetest sounds he’s heard in his life—pretty little mews and sleepy moans as he fills you out until you’re neatly settled around his base and fuck—he’s already cumming, melting within the surrounding cloudy warmth. 

It doesn’t stop him from remaining hard. 

Dropping his weight atop of you, he smothers you like a duvet—bodies pressed perfectly against each other as he kisses every and any part of you he can reach, snapping his hips in short thrusts deep within—sucking your lip while sinking his fingers into the plume of your haunches, lapping up the spit from within your mouth like a well granting all his wishes.

He cleans you up after—wipes you down, and frets over the bruises left on you, hoping you won’t read too much into how sore you are. Leaving the crimescene just as it had been before, then kisses you good night.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[inkskinned]

okay if you're really cool about things, i can be honest with you. before you read further, decide if you're a girl's girl. if you're cool and actually cool or like not cool.

men don't talk in my book because i was fuckken tired of the way they're the center of every fucking story. i was tired of how every story takes a moment to let them talk. men can shut up for literally one fucking book.

unfortunately not everyone is cool. professionally what i usually say is i didn't want to add violence to the world. the only men in my book are abusers, so they don't get to talk. they don't get to take up space. they ruined my life, they don't get to have their words echo anymore.

because like, yeah! you find practically any story about a person surviving trauma and... there's a man at the center. men are often rescuing us from these things. a "good man" is always standing around, being a good man, proving to the victim that good men are the real men. that her experience was unique rather than universal.

the redacted text has not been taken well by all of my early readers. there is this weird, crouching growl that keeps occurring with men-of-a-certain-age. why don't we hear his side of the story?

when i sat down to write everything that happened to me, i couldn't look at the frank brutality of my abuser's words on a page and think to myself: i actually let him speak like that. i had to redact his words from the manuscript. i then left it redacted. no victim is going to read this book and hear the person who hurt them. it is a book for the victims to speak. abusers shut up challenge, forever. for eternity.

my father once told me, chuckling, i should just have a page of redaction where i let the man just finally talk. it is funny to joke about how we should make a whole page in my book about a man that hurt me. this was not the only time someone commented - it feels like you're hiding things. how do i know you're actually a victim if he doesn't get to speak?

there are books where women aren't even present. i even genuinely like some of those books. like, who doesn't like the hobbit?

i keep running into people defending this imaginary man. the default narrative is so true to some people that they will defend any man, just by virtue of the assumption - "if he's acting like that, you had to push him." certain people need definitive proof that you didn't accidentally make your partner into an abuser. they need to decide if you deserved it, because they want to be able to judge you.

which makes sense, i guess, from a hind brain perspective. if you can figure out "why" someone was cruel, you can protect yourself against it. if you defend the bully, the bully might side with you. i don't really know their explanation for feeling this about a character in a book. trust me, i wrote the guy. he is not going to protect you.

i guess i just - there was a time in my life where i desperately wanted anyone to defend me. where i could have really used someone saying holy shit are you okay instead of what did you say to make him act like that to you.

instead, over dinner, a friend-of-a-friend i just met is pouring herself wine. i heard you wrote a book, she says. she gives me the kind of chilly smile i associate with knives. i heard it's unfair to men.

[txttletale]

Can you elaborate on what you think would be the minimal needed changes to fix what you see as an issue in Civ? Civ has done fairly large shifts in some mechanics before, and "civ like" is still an interesting game space that can scratch certain itches

yeah i mean as i said, the baked-in racism arises from a certain set of core assumptions that i think lock it into that position, which are that civ is a

1) symmetrical

2) 4X

game about

3) 'real world civilizations' (deeply loaded terms ofc but that's how civ envisions them)

4) trying to 'win the game'

5) with a global

6) and transhistorical

scope

so, in its role as a symmetrical (1) game with victory conditions (4), civ as a text has to take positions on what constitutes a 'successful civilization'. as a (2) 4X game this definition also has to include some variation on the profoundly loaded eponymous Xs, 'explore, expand, exploit, and exterminate'. furthermore, as a (1) symmetrical game with a global, transhistorical (5, 6) scope, it has to necessarily create a model of what 'a civilization' looks like and apply it to every 'civilization' it wants to include, at all points in their history.

this all kind of naturally leads into civ being a game in which the colonial european imperialist powers are the default 'civilizations' and all other cultures are basically just like them -- a game where technology progresses linearly and innovations are made in the order they were in european imperial history -- a game where all cultures fundamentally work in the same way and hold similar values, a game where all religions are based on christianity (i mean, just look at civ vi's system, where every religion has a 'prophet', 'apostles', 'missionaries' and 'inquisitors'), a game where not only do cultures have teleological overarching 'goals' but where these goals are shared and these goals are fundamentally based on imperialist visions of 'victory'.

to drill into some specific examples: you can't play a game of civilization without founding cities. you will constantly be founding cities. when you're playing as 'the mongols' or 'the cree' or 'scythia', this makes no sense! these were peoples who historically had rich culture, science, arts, and certainly a notable military history, but were (to varying degrees, at varying times in their history, i don't mean to create a new and similarly heterogenous absolutist category here) nomadic!

similarly, to advance in civilization you must invent 'the wheel'. 'the wheel' is necessary to many later innovations, while of course the andean peoples represented by the playable 'inca' never made significant use of the wheel because the lack of suitable pack animals and environmental factors meant that it did not, in fact, prove a suitable tool for transporting large quantities of heavy goods. for an even more glaring example, a lot of early military technology is locked behind 'horses', which is pretty absurd considering that several of the game's playable civilizations, in the real world, developed plenty of military technology despite living on a continent without any horses!

so having established what i mean by 'the issue', which is that the game's core assumptions lock it into imposing a eurocentric, imperialist vision of 'civilization' onto cultures where it doesn't make sense, here's a few different jenga blocks you could pull out to resolve it:

SID MEIER'S EUROPE

the pillar you knock out here is #5. keep the game engine and core assumptions just as founded on eurocentric imperialist societies as they are now, and just make it about european empires doing imperialism. now, i think we can immediately spot some problems in there -- how are we going to represent the rest of the world? after all, this kind of just creates a situation where, either as NPC factions or as outright exclusions, all other cultures in the world are deprived of any meaningful agency in "history". this one just kind of gives you a new problem and also from a gameplay standpoint results in a game that just Has Less Stuff On It. i think this is a bad one

SID MEIER'S ELYSIUM

now here's one you can get if you knock out pillar #3. keep the same assumptions and gameplay and transhistorical global narrative scale, but remove the 'real-world' aspects. you can get real silly with it and add fantasy stuff to it, or you can be a relatively grounded 'our-world-but-to-the-left' situation. now to some extent this already matches a lot of the features already in civ games: after all, unless you specifically load in a 'true start location earth' map, you're usually playing on a strange parallel world with semiplausible but wholly original continents! now, you also need to get some fucking Nerds and Geeks working at your company to build out your fictional world, or you'll just end having pointlessly pallette swapped a bunch of factions that are now just Schmance, Schmina, and the Schoman Schempire, and not really have avoided the issue. but if you do that, and invent a deep and rich fictional history to riff on, then you could create something really cool and incorporate alt-tech or fantasy or retrofuturistic elements or all sorts of cool shit.

the downside of this is that it makes your game less accessible and appealing to a lot of people. a big part of (at least the initial) appeal of civilization is pointing at the screen and saying 'hey i recognize that thing!'. it is instantly more accessible to someone who isn't super invested in strategy or fantasy dork shit to say to them 'you can be BRAZIL and nuke FRANCE while at war with CHINA and allied to BABYLON'.

more importantly than that, i think some parts of the historical theming (because let's be honest, it is ultimately theming, i don't think civ is interested in 'history' in any serious way) serve a pretty load-bearing role in the game's information economy. it's a pretty tall order to ask a player to remember the unique abilities of dozens of factions and unique wonders, and the historical background makes it a lot easier. e.g., it is a lot easier for a player looking at wonders to remember 'the pyramids need to be built on desert' or 'broadway will help me make more culture' than it would be for them to remember the requirements/effects of 'under-eusapia' or the 'wompty dompty dom center'. i think this is one of the number one things that, if subtracted, would meaningfully create something that is no longer 'sid meier's civilization'.

SID MEIER'S ALPHA CENTAURI

now if you cut out #3 and #5 and #6 on the other hand... sid meier's alpha centauri is not technically an entry in the civilization franchise, but i think most people correctly consider it one. it has similar 4X gameplay to the series, and its (very bad) spiritual successor beyond earth was an official entry. instead of 'civilizations', the playable factions are splinters from a colony ship that fell into civil war as soon as it landed, each one representing a distinct ideology. now, y'know, this doesn't mean it's free from Some Problems (the portrayal of the Human Hive in particular is some of the worst apects of 90s orientalism all piled together) but i think they're problems it's not at all locked into by its design!

SID MEIER'S THERMOPILAE

by cutting out #5 and #6 -- making a civ game about a particular time and place in history you could achieve something much more richly detailed in mecahnics while also being able to handwave a lot more homogeny into it. giving the same basic mechanics to, say, every greek city-state in the peloponnesian war is far less ideologically loaded than giving them to every 'historical civilization' someone who watched a few history channel documentaries once can think of. it also lets you get really into the weeds and introduce era-and-place-specific mechanics.

the scale needs to be smaller conceptually but it doesn't really have to be smaller in terms of gameplay -- just make maps and tech trees and building more granular, less large-scale and more local and parochial and specific. this also gives you the advantage of being able to do the opposite of the last two options and really lean hard into the historical theming.

if this sounds like a good idea to you, then good news -- old world does something pretty similar, and it's pretty good! worth checking out.

SID MEIER'S LOVE AND PEACE ON PLANET EARTH

what if we take an axe to #2 and #4? instead of putting all these civilizations into a zero-sum game of violent expansion, make it possible for several civilization to win, for victory goals to not inherently involve 'defeating' or 'beating' other factions. now, that doesn't mean that the game should be a confictless city-builder -- after all, if you've decided to be super niceys and just try and make your society a pleasant place to live, that doesn't mean that the guy next to you isn't going to be going down the militarist-expansionist path. hell, even if all you want to do is provide for your citizens, a finite map with finite resources is going to drive you into conflict of some kind with your neighbours in the long run.

to make this work you'd have to add a bunch of new metrics -- 'quality of life', for example, as a more granular and contextual version of the 'happiness' mechanics a few games have had, or 'equality', game metrics that you could pursue to try to build an egalitarian, economically and socially just society where everyone is provided for. after all, why shouldn't that be a goal to strive for just as much as going to mars or being elected super world president or whatever?

SID MEIER'S DIVERSE HISTORICAL CONTEXTS

ultimately, all cards on the table, if i was made god-empress of The Next Civ Game, this is the option i'd go for: jettison #1 as much as practically possible, introduce as much asymmetry into the game as you can. some civilizations keep the established settler-city model -- others are nomadic, building their units in movable 'camps' -- maybe the 'colonial' civilizations, your USA and Brazil and so on, can be like the alien factions from the alpha centauri DLC, only showing as NPCs at the appropriate point in the timeline when other civs are colonizing other continents, or putting you into an accelerated-forward version of the game if you choose to play as one.

you could combine this with a more interesting version of humankind's civ-choosing system, where you lock certain civilization choices behind specific gameplay events. this would let you do crazy shit with the balancing -- imagine an ostrogothic kindgom civ with crazy strong abilities and units that you could only choose to play as if your capital is overrun by barbarians, or a hungarian civ that requires you to have started as a nomadic civ and invaded somewhere, or a soviet union civ that requires you to lose a revolution, or a usamerican civ that requires you to split off all cities on a foreign continent from your original civ -- you could add so much variety and so many new and bizarre strategies into the game with this!

as for the universal aspects of tech and the narratives of linear progression contained within, there are lots of approaches that already solve this! stuff like stellaris' semi-random branching tech paths, or endless space 2's circular tech web, could allow civilizations to take tech paths that make sense for them, rather than imposing one single model of 'technological progress' on the wole world.

obviously there's limits to this, right -- civilization isn't going to be a detailed historical materialism simulator any time soon. but i think abandoning the idea that every faction has to play fundamentally the same and introducing some severe asymmetry as well as choices that you can make after starting the game would work wonders to wash out some of the racist and colonialist assumptions built into the game's foundation, while also (imo) creating a more fun and interesting game.

[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (previous)

(Chapter #5 Ya'll)

Just like he said he would, Damian walked Danny to his earth science classroom. Guiding him through labyrinth-like hallways with a firm grip on his sleeve. It’s as if he thought Danny would slip through his fingers and be swept away by the crowd of students. Embarrassingly enough, that’s an accurate assumption of both his luck and his situational awareness. If he dared to imagine the future, prison bars, sigils, and the outline of a body immediately came to mind.

Forever he’d be thanking the ancients for Damian expert skills in navigating. Without him, he’d probably be curled up at the bottom of a staircase by now. Or in a death cult keen on taking over the world. It might seem ridiculously pessimistic, but freaky escalations like that happened to him all the time! He’d gone from searching for a gift he’d accidentally knocked into the zone to staging a massive prison break! Needless to say, he appreciated the company.

“Since your map is half a century out-of-date; I’ll pick you up around lunchtime,” Damian declared, curtly waiting for his response.

”Sounds good,” Giving the other boy a small wave and a thankful smile Danny headed into the classroom.

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he read the cheesy geology jokes scrawled onto the board. The jokes were stupid in a way only teachers or dads could make them. Puns that could do psychic damage if you dare read them aloud. It’s beautiful. Leagues above a certain English teacher who butchered slang so brutally the lingo died on the spot.

The typical classroom posters lined the walls. A clear bucket full of rocks just sitting on the teacher’s desk as she started taking attendance. He sat close to the front furthest from the door. His blindside faced the wall, nobody could sneak up on him and he wouldn’t be trampled when the bell rang. Nobody could gawk pityingly at his face this way. Yeah, you could pry this spot from his cold dead hands.

It might seem extreme but people were…Weird when it came down to his disability. Some people treated him like he was utterly useless, incapable of doing anything on his own. They tried to “help” without bothering to ask about his condition or if he even needed help. It was so much worse the first few months after the accident. He was wheelchair-bound for that. -1/10 wouldn’t recommend.

He could say with certainty nobody wanted to be paralyzed. It’s jarring how differently treated him back then. They’d point out the obvious like he’s completely blind. Annoying, but understandable considering how gnarled his facial injuries were before they healed. It looked like somebody shot him in the face with a firework. The fact that he didn’t lose an eye was a medical miracle backed by new ghostly powers.

What wasn’t understandable was the complete lack of boundaries strangers had with him and his wheelchair. No amount of warning could’ve prepared him for the first time someone grabbed his wheelchair and moved him. He thought it’d been a one-time thing but it happened again and again without fail. Somebody would move him out of the way or try to “Help” him get to where he’s going. Several times without so much of a “Hello! Do you need some help,” people he’d never spoken to would grab the handles of his chair and start pushing him.

It’s infuriatingly dehumanizing and their heartbroken faces when he called them out tugged at his heartstrings. So many times he’d guiltily stewed over his responses. Jazz killed that guilt without so much as a thought when she put things into perspective. Even though Jazz had a habit of psychoanalyzing him it felt good when she said his anger warranted.

Nothing would ever feel as good as taking those first shaky steps outside his wheelchair though. The wave of overwhelming emotion when a group of baffled doctors told him his paralysis wasn’t as permanent as they previously thought was unparalleled. He cried a lot that day. Tears of joy, he’s not ashamed to admit that.

Never in his life would he have thought he’d be grateful for Dash’s bullying. But after a full two months of extensive physical therapy and multiple surgeries, he now knew were unnecessary anyone treating him like they did before was a godsend. Dash believed in a twisted kind of equality when it came to bullying, he’d pick on anyone he deemed a loser. For him, it’d been verbal harassment, but regaining the ability to walk gave him confidence. He was extremely cocky, snapping back with sarcastic venom at every dig made at him.

Slowly but surely, people stopped babying him. It was harder to argue that someone was helpless when they were actively picking fights with the star football player. After all the shit he’d involved himself in people treated him like normal. Normal in the sense he was picked on for being a loser with crazy parents.

He’d take that kind of bullying over the underhanded insults drowned in infantilism. As the months passed it felt like everyone forgot about his accident. His classmates would get angry at him when he couldn’t keep up with them and go green with envy when he got extra time for his assignments. People acted like he was getting special treatment just for the sake of it.

Like full body electrocution was something he could just walk off. They didn’t understand how walking and running were easier than standing in place. He was accused of faking it whenever he stood up from his wheelchair. People were offended that he still considered his left side blind when he could still see light in his peripherals.

Everyone he talked to said he was lucky. Lucky to survive, lucky to walk again without aid, lucky to have all the sweet powers, lucky lucky lucky. He didn’t feel all that lucky when his joints locked or when reading gave him migraines so bad he questioned if being alive was worth it.

He knows it could be worse. Dear god does he know it could be so, so, much worse. He could be fully dead. Charred to a crisp without even a blast shadow as evidence of his death. He should’ve been paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of his life. Braindead, hooked up to a machine as his family mourned their loss. The consequences of walking into that portal chamber were so much lighter than anyone could’ve imagined. So he dealt with it.

Things could be worse. At least he wasn’t in Gotham directly after his accident. Slipping through solid objects around people 100x more fearful of their surroundings was a wonderful way to speedrun getting his spine shattered by a guy in a bat suit. Or trafficked. Danny winces as he scribbles on a sheet of lined paper.

Someone is staring at him. The boy beside him was shooting daggers into his very soul. Hadn’t even bothered to hide the way his face twisted in suspicion when Danny turned to look him in the eyes.

“You need something?” Danny probed, praying this was just him misreading facial expressions.

“What the hell happened to you?” The other boy whispered, his tone harsh and accusatory.

“A shocking experience,” His half-assed response earns him a sharp glare and a sneer.

“No really, what happened?”

“Got zapped,” He shrugs, hoping his classmate would take the hint and drop it.

“That’s not what I meant,” The other seethed. “How did you get electrocuted?”

”Electricity,”

“The fact you’re dodging my question makes you look more suspicious,”

“Not trauma dumping on a stranger makes me suspicious?”

“It’s Gotham! We don’t get transfer students outside major cities and we certainly don’t get ones willing to stay for months! What are you planning?” He hisses, voice cracking as he tried and failed to make it sound lower.

“Trust me, if I had a choice to stay home I would’ve,”

“I don’t think I do trust you,”

“That's not my problem,” Danny shrugged. This guy spoke with the delusional confidence only the stubbornest flat earther could rival. He’s not a gothamite by any means but wasn’t the key unspoken rule of the city “Mind your damn business unless you’re a bat,” It’s on par with Don’t dig straight down but this guy clearly hadn’t learned of the former.

“Why do you have fangs?”

”Genetics,” What kind of question was that? Plenty of people had fangs. It’s a common trait, almost every person in amity has it!

”I don’t believe you,”

Heh? What’s the point in asking if he wasn’t going to believe him when he answered? It reminded him of a certain annoyance back home.

“Why do you-“

”Leave me alone!” He snaps. It’s like his classmates doing his best impression of a toddler! “Why?” “Why?” “Why?” Desperately trying to catch Danny in a lie and refusing to believe any response that wasn’t a confession of guilt. World's greatest detective over here, interrogating him for having the audacity to show up to Gotham with “Gasp!” Scars! Oh, the humanity! What a delinquent!

Ancients’ weren’t these prissy private schools supposed to be better than public schools? He walked to school today expecting to be murdered and or indoctrinated into a weird death cult not interrogated by Walmart Batman over here!

What was this guy expecting to drag out of him anyway? Blueprints for a deathray? A secret plot to break everyone out of Arkham? Secret rogue plans? He just got here today! What could he possibly be planning when his apartment didn’t even have toilet paper yet? They hadn’t even hit the 24-hour mark and he already had a conspiracy theorist pestering him.

“Why are you-“ Copycat Wes starts.

”Leave him alone you fucking moron!” A female voice snaps behind them.

“ You don’t understand! He-,” Sputtering to defend himself the girl glowered at him.

“Has done nothing to warrant your harassment,” She finished the sentence for him.

”No! He’s up to something I swear! Just look at him,”

The girl looked him up and down, her hazel eyes shooting daggers into his soul. “He looks like he’s a strong breeze away from a heart attack,”

Ouch.

"There is something wrong with him, you're just too dim to see it," He spits.

 

“Listen here you toe-eyed spaz, I don’t want to have to deal with Lightning Rod over here frying people to death because you wouldn’t stop tormenting him!” She seethed, jabbing her finger into Offbrand’s chest.

“How do you know he’s not going to do that regardless?”

She turns her attention back to him. “Are you going to start doing rogue shit?” She speaks calmly as if she’s asking about the weather.

He pretends to ponder for a second, checking his phone for dramatic effect. “ Nah, My sister says I’m not allowed to be a criminal outside my hometown. It’ll affect her chances of getting into a good college,” To his surprise, that’s an acceptable response for her.

”See, he’s fine.”

“Did you not hear a word he said?” Copycat sputters. “He just admitted to being a criminal,”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and?” The boy is red in the face now.

”That’s not our problem,” She replied bluntly.

“How is it not our problem?”

“It just isn’t,”

“It clearly is “ He emphasizes.

“This is why you keep getting mugged,” She snaps. “You’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, how have not learned how to mind your damn business,”

“I know how to mind my business. This is my business. You’re the one who butted in,”

“I’m a nosy bitch too. But I’m not the one who’s pretending to be Batman.” She’s smirking now, tapping her fingernails on her desk.

“I’m not pretending to be Batman,” He defends, hands clenched into fists. “I’m just doing my civic duty!”

“You’re delusional,”

“Well- at least I’m not a criminal,” Offbrand Wes sneered, whipping around to glare at him.

Oh great, he’s directly involved again.

“What a scathing remark, I’ll be sure to cry about it while I build my deathray,” Maybe he shouldn’t keep antagonizing. Offbrand looked about ready to strangle him.

“Now you’re pissing him off on purpose,” The girl behind them deadpans.

“ I am, thanks for noticing,” He’s giddy, a shit-eating grin on his face that would immediately get him shanked if he were outside right now.

Their conversation continues. The three of them whisper-yelling at each other. Offbrand Wes fumed at every one of Danny’s sarcastic responses, doubling down on his suspicions. With every absurd accusation thrown his way, the girl defended him. But if you listened in for more than a few seconds you could see she didn’t step to his defense for the sake of being nice. She just really hated this kid. Who could blame her?

The argument devolved into the two gothamites insulting each other in a way only rich kids could. Family names Danny barely recognized as important were thrown around like dodgeballs. Maybe if Danny kept up with celebrity drama he’d be able to tell who’s winning?

“Daniel Fenton? ” He almost jumps at the sudden interruption. He’d been so awestruck watching these two go at each other's throats that he hadn’t noticed anyone approaching them. The teacher is staring down at him; he smiles politely. Better to garner goodwill now rather than later.

”I’d like to see you after class today,” Oh god, already? What had he done to peeve this teacher? Did she hear them arguing? Offbrand was grinning, vindicated as Danny stumbled over himself.

“Oh- uh, will it take long? A friend said he’d help me find my classes since my map is a little off.” He offered up the map as proof. A sacrifice in hopes of leniency for whatever crimes he’s about to be accused of.

The woman looked over the paper, her relaxed expression dropping with the growing confusion.

“Can I see your schedule?” Danny hands it over without a word. Slowly, she ran her fingers against the brail of his schedule. The slow shift in her stance as her face paled felt like it’d been ripped straight from the trailer of a horror movie. He’s heard a lot of crazy things in his life but nothing would ever shock him more than what his teacher said next.

“We’re going be sued into the fucking ground,” Her words were barely audible, whispered behind a closed fist. Danny’s stunned silence was a thousand times louder. Teachers could swear here?! Isn’t that illegal? He sits speechless for an agonizing minute, unsure if he’s in trouble.

Wordlessly, she drags him to the front of the classroom. It feels like he’s being walked to the gallows.

“Do you mind if I keep this?”

”Yeah? I need to know my schedule,” Was wandering around clueless detention for Gotham schools? He hadn’t even done anything. Sure, he was a tad bit tardy this morning. That’s the plane's fault, not his!

“You don’t have a school iPad?” She sounds utterly exasperated.

“No,” He’s supposed to have a school iPad?

“Did they at least give you a proper school I.D.?”

”I hope so ” He shows her the plastic card he’d been given alongside his schedule. She scrutinized the card, glaring intently at every word. It’d taken hours to get a decent photo for that stupid card.

“There’s something wrong with it isn’t there?” Screwed over straight from the get-go. He’ll be haunting the front desk for the foreseeable future.

“No, no it’s fine,” She waves him off. “Leave the map with me and drop your schedule off at the front desk when you leave for the day okay?” He nods, that’s all he can do at the moment.

When the bell finally rang their teacher practically shooed his classmates out the door. Students clogged the doorway, a glob of tangled backpacks that slowly oozed into halls separating with miffed expressions. The tile floor couldn’t be more appealing as he waited for the bomb to drop. In a fancy school like this, the punishment for tardiness could be public execution. You never know.

The punishment for seeing the school guidance counselor had been public humiliation with a side of attempted murder. So capital punishment being carried out in schools wasn’t something he’d be surprised about. They’d better have a guillotine, he’s gotten pretty sick of the electric chair.

“Is your friend coming to get you?” The woman asks, still studying the map with a furrowed brow. She squinted at the paper holding out in front of her face like the distance would change the image.

“I think so, he dropped me off here,” Danny pauses, fiddling with the buttons on the cuffs of his sleeves. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”

She shakes her head much to his relief “Somebody’s going to be in trouble but it certainly isn’t you,”

Patterned knocking at the classroom door draws his attention from the woman. Green eyes met blue as Damian quietly entered the room.

“That’s him!” Beaming, he turns back to the teacher. “Can I go now?” She nods wordlessly. With her approval, Danny doesn't hesitate for a second. He darts over to the other boy with a relieved grin on his face.

“How was class?” He asks as they step out of the classroom.

”Unnoteworthy,” Damian hummed.

”Same,” I mean, technically he did get into a fight. But it wasn’t exactly something to write home about. Blows hadn’t been exchanged and he wasn’t gut-punched with a month's worth of detention. Yet.

The walk to the lunch room is heavily crowded. The cafeteria echoed with the chattering of a sea of teenagers. Their navy blue uniform made clusters of students indistinguishable from one another. Sam would hate it here.

“Hey, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate lunch here?”

“Ten. I bring my food from home,” Damian responds quickly pausing afterward as if he’s contemplating a second answer.

“Fair,” He shrugs “nothing beats some home-cooked edible food,” Memories swirled through his brain like he’s a soldier fresh out of war. Reanimated turkeys, living mashed potatoes, gallons of milk that glowed bright enough to light an entire room.

“I reckon your parents’ aren’t the best chefs?” He can barely hold back a wince at the question.

”They try to be…” He sighs “Dad can make some killer fudge but everything else he cooks looks radioactive,”

“I suppose I can relate to that” Damian drawls, “Most of the family is barred from the kitchen without supervision,”

“That’s probably a good idea, learning to cook can be pretty messy,”

” I take it you’re the cook of your family?” Damian asks, eyebrows raised.

“Eh, kind of? I’m not the best but I can make edible food,”

“The bare minimum you know?” He laughs. “My parents are scientists so there wasn’t exactly time for cooking lessons while they were drilling us on safely handling their machinery,”

Damian looks him up and down, eyes locking on his face. “I don’t think those ‘drills’ did you well,”

“They did. I deliberately ignored what they taught me; fucked around and found out,” He shrugs. The past is the past and he’s learned not to change it for his own sake.

“I see…”

“Soooo…” Danny starts, the silence between the two of them awkward. “How would you rate the school-provided lunch?” He reiterated.

”I’ve only eaten the school-provided lunch once but I’d say it’s a four, maybe four point five if I’m being generous,”

”I’d settle for edible,” It’s a private school. Sure, it being in Gotham threw him off a little but what’s the worst that could happen? He dies? A bit too late for that.

“Your standards concern me,”

“Take that up with my school cafeteria; they gave me those standards,” To be fair, his parents contributed to that too. So had Nasty Burger. He had a love-hate relationship with food especially when it’s from a school cafeteria.

Call him paranoid but Casper High fed people dirt and grass plucked from the football field as a “Vegan option” Don’t even get him started on the rocks. Whole ass stones almost as big as his fist. They’d been expected to eat that?! Anyone who’d gotten nailed with one of those suckers when ‘food’ started flying, forever had his sympathy. Nobody was hospitalized but he’d seen the dents in the wall when they made him clean the cafeteria. Rocks were chucked in that food fight.

He’d gathered his lunch without much of an issue. The salad wasn’t sentient and his sandwich hadn’t screamed at him yet. He’d even managed to remember his lunch number at the end of it! Today’s a good day to be pleasantly surprised by the bare minimum. God knows he's gonna need the extra positivity.

Walking through the cafeteria, he spots Damian pretty quickly. The other somehow found himself one of the only empty tables in the whole cafeteria. When Damian waves him over it takes all his self-control to stifle a grin. For a split second, he’d thought he’d overstepped. Thought he’d missed the signs that Damian wanted him gone like Dad missed the signs that Vlad was a psycho.

“Are you really the chef of your family?” Damian questions.

“I am,” he grins, as Damian eyes him skeptically. “Does this-“ Danny gestures at himself. “Not look like the textbook example of a five-star chef to you?”

“Absolutely not,” Damian replied coldly without skipping a beat. “You look like you could burn a bowl of cereal,”

“I can cook, it just took a while to learn how,” You could only learn so fast when every ingredient is contaminated by a mystery cocktail of chemicals.

Even if he wasn’t a master chef he’s better than he was those first months after the accident. So many dishes shattered against the floor. He’d been scolded for each one. Anything he tried to hold slipped from his grasp before the ten-second mark.

“Could you give me any advice?” Damian asked.

“Try out some pasta recipes,” He comments between bites of his sandwich. “They’re hard to screw up and almost every cookbook has about a dozen you can practice,”

“Don’t go with overly complicated recipes straight off the bat. If you’re trying to make a three-course dinner when you can barely make a peanut butter jelly sandwich you’ll end up with a whole lot of wasted food and some scratched pans,” Danny warns, he’s lost count of the hours he’d spent scrubbing the charred food out of pots and pans.

“Alfred wouldn’t be happy about that,”

“Maybe you should ask ‘Alfred’ to teach you,” Danny comments, he wasn’t a tutor. That’s Jazz’s job. Sure, he’d like to be helpful but his journey in the kitchen involved resurrected coleslaw and radioactive dairy products. An experience few could relate to.

“I taught myself with YouTube tutorials, cookbooks, and spite; I’m sure you’d learn better with someone with someone there to give you feedback on what you’re doing.”

“Tch,” Damian glowered, shooting daggers down at his food.

“I’m serious!” He emphasizes, “Trying to wing it straight off the bat just isn’t a good idea,” He knew from experience. Food poisoning isn’t fun. Neither were the blisters you’d get from boiling oil.

“I’m sure many people ‘wing it’ in the kitchen,” Damian insists. “What if I’m a naturally born chef?”

”Didn’t you say you’re barred from the kitchen?” Damian’s cheeks turn a flustered red.

”I said most of my family is barred from the kitchen!” Damian defends like Danny’s ‘accusation’ is a slight against his character.

”Are you included in that ban?”

”…yes” The other boy whispers begrudgingly. He tries, he really does, but there’s no stopping the quiet giggle that erupts from his chest. Damian glares daggers at him cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

”I swear I’m not laughing at you,” He wheezes. It’s a lie and both of them know it.

”Go ahead and laugh, I’m not the one who fried myself,” Damian huffs.

Danny made jokes about his accident all the time. Much to everyone else's dismay his lab accident was his go-to event to joke about. No matter how many times he got scolded for “Making people uncomfortable” he kept it up. This wasn’t the first time someone had made a comment but there’s something about the way he said it. Something about the way he emphasized his words made Danny lose all composure. Collapsing into his folded arms, shoulder shaking with silent laughter.

”Hey…” The other boy’s voice is weaved with concern a guilty lift to his voice. Gently, he pokes Danny’s arm. Any worry drained from his features when Danny lifted his head to look at him.

”I thought I'd upset you!” Damian half shouts.

”Nah, I’ve got thicker skin than that,” He reassures.

”You're the first, Others tell me I come off rather… cold,”

“Really?” That’s a surprise. Danny couldn’t see it, then again he hasn’t known Damian for very long. After all that’s happened, he’d like to think he’s a better judge of character. The other boy didn’t give off Penelope spectra vibes. Nor did he act like a miniature Vlad. If anything, he reminded him of Sam.

“You’re a liar if you think I’m friendly,” He snaps scowling at Danny as if he’d just spat in his lunch or something.

”I’m not a liar, I just have a different definition of friendly than you do,”

“Does your definition of friendly happen to be rich?”

“Fuck no!” He snaps without thinking. Raising an eyebrow Damian stares at him green eyes scrutinizing his expression like there’s deeper meaning in his words. “Eat the rich,” He clarifies, as if that’s supposed to explain anything.

“Friendliness is compassion, a willingness to help, not sugar-sweet conversations with extroverted compassion,” It’s easy to put on a sweet voice while you screw someone over. Even easier to insult someone with a snidely worded ‘compliment’.

“You helped me without hesitation when you could have left me to fend for myself,”

“The situation was ridiculous, I had to help.” Damian defends

“ You didn’t have to,” he points out.

“Listen, I’m not trying to challenge your view of yourself; I’m just saying you’ve been nice to me so far,”

Damian relaxes, staring down at his lunch. “I pity you,”

“Pity me enough to give me a bite?” Danny asks, batting his eyes obnoxiously.

“Absolutely not,”

“Fuck.”

[alexanderwales]

Turning Off Your Brain and the Critical Lens

Alright, let's start with this: there is a thing called a critical lens. It is a way of looking at a piece of art, examining what it's saying to us about itself or its subject or themes or whatever.

There are many critical lenses. Because this is something that's mostly only taught at the college level, most of them are (in my opinion) mired in academic language and not actually all that interesting in and of themselves: I think if you read a dozen stories through a feminist lens, you really start to think "okay, yeah, I get it". Different readings of different texts through different lenses can be great fun though, and it's one of my favorite parts of media criticism, and something that I wish people were more explicit about.

I'm going to talk about the Barbie movie, because it's easy. The feminist lens is obvious and in my opinion intended: it's the thing that the movie is most trying to be about, and as a consequence, it's something that probably has the most critical meat. But you can also read the movie through other lenses, and ask what it has to say about capitalism, about race, about neurodivergence and queer theory and game theory and a bunch of other things.

Some of these readings are Unintended. The author (in this case, hundreds of people working together on the film) did not intend for you to look at the movie to see what it's saying about, say, American Imperialism. Probably.

I personally enjoy unintended readings. I like teasing apart a book to see what it's saying about different things, and how it's saying it, and what the assumptions it's operating under, and whether this creates anything interesting when I bring a different set of assumptions. I think the writers and actors of Winter Soldier were not trying to say anything in particular about masculinity, but fuck it, let's watch the movie and think about it.

Sometimes people will watch something and recommend that you turn your brain off. Sometimes they'll say this to you just as you're about to start in on some critical analysis of something that definitely was not made with that critical analysis in mind.

Here's how I think of "turning off your brain": it's a critical lens. It's not a critical lens in the sense that academics might use it, but you're looking at this piece of media from a specific viewpoint, and that viewpoint is "omg they're in love" or "fuck yeah" or "no, don't go into the basement!". There are certain pop genres that greatly benefit from being viewed this way, at least in terms of pure enjoyment.

When I sit down to watch a romcom, I can do it with male/female social dynamics in mind, or I can do it with "aw, I hope these kids get together" in mind. One is the intended reading, and I don't think that it should get all that much privilege for it, but I do think generally it can result in better enjoyment. I love media criticism and consider it to be one of my main hobbies, but if you fall in love with one particular way of viewing media and only use that single one, you're going to have a bad time.

I write and generally enjoy rational fiction, which comes with its own lens, which I guess we can call the rational lens. If you sit and view a work through the rational lens, sometimes you can have fun with it: you try to work through the systems as presented and the actions of the characters and think about how you could make everything make sense. The way to do this that's not very fun is to look at a work through the rational lens and conclude that the author is dumb, the characters are dumb, and the worldbuilding is shit. I guess this can be fun if you have a sense of smug superiority, but I personally do not.

One of the things that I love about media criticism is that you can sometimes extract weird and new things out of a work. One of the things that I love about fanfic is that you can take a deliberately strange reading of a work and then write as though that reading was true. You can look at Batman and say "what does this say about income inequality" and then start writing and say "this is about income inequality now". You can look at Winter Solider and find a reading where Cap and Bucky are gay and then write it out.

Where I think people fail in a way that's personally annoying to me is that they take their preferred reading and then loudly claim ("ironically" or not) that this is the One True Reading against which no other readings can stand. Sometimes "that is not The Point of [thing]". I think you get that a lot from the "shut off your brain" crowd, but I've seen it from other places too, and I would attribute it to people talking past each other, sometimes not even realizing what critical lens they're using.

If you're talking to me, you can just say "non-preferred lens" and I'll understand, or maybe I'll say "wat" because I might forget this blog post moments after I write it.

[dunmeshistash]

in regards to skin tone variation in DM, i do think a lot of it is colorism/racism too. theres a few characters of color, but not many (just like how theres some fatter characters, but none of them are main characters (even senshi & other dwarves arent really depicted as fat)).

ryoko kui has surface representation for these people, but it lacks much substance, and the brown characters she does draw arent given brown facial features, and are almost always colored with very ashy skin. a lot of them just look like a recolored white person (especially cithis, kaka, & kiki). her random portraits of characters who dont actually appear in the series otherwise tend to be much better about this, but the actual characters that show up and play a part all seem to suffer from this issue.

im not saying kui is like, super-duper racist and we all need to stop reading DM etc etc, but i think its important to recognize and point out everyday/usually-overlooked colorism & racism when we see it, and i know im not the first or only person to point this out about her character designs. if she can draw fat people and actual brown people as part of the portraits, why cant she or wont she do the same for any of the featured characters in the series?

(i know the orcs are fat, but its not a good thing the only consistently fat people are the ones who are a fantasy race based off of violent racial stereotypes, who are also pig people, while none of the main cast of "real" humans are fat except *maybe* the dwarves, who still have small waists and flat stomachs, and the lord of the island, who is depicted as corrupt & decadent)

Well yeah.

I'm just a lore blog so I don't like to get too into real life issues or make assumptions about how the author feels about these subjects. What I talked about on the skin tone post was assumptions as to why she thought it would be important to show skin tone variations on certain races as a character design choice. (In the sense that her character design is very purposeful)

I realize some people over praise Kui's designs when most of it is pretty safe for what it is, but even if it's just a step closer to better representation it's something that's rare to see in anime. So I understand why some people get so excited about it.

It is important to realize this isn't the ideal either (Dark skinned characters with the same features as the others, mostly well build characters on the thinner side) but I personally don't like to criticize these type of stories on what it "could/should have been".

As someone who is fat and not white, I'm happy we get some diversity in dungeon meshi. I hope this opens up the possibility of better character design in the future even if what we got now wasn't perfect.

It shouldn't be the case that this piece of art filled me with so much joy I teared up cause I had never seen someone with a similar body to mine drawn with so much respect and objectivity. But unfortunately that's the world we live in and I don't think it's wrong to be happy for what we get for now while acknowledging it's not perfect and that it should be better.

I'm also super happy the anime chose to make the dark characters even darker.

[windvexer]

Potentially you gotta stop making all those substitutions to the spells, witch bestie.

If you're trying to learn magic and have chosen to do so through other people's published instructional manuals, and the magic isn't working, consider asking yourself if you are actually following the rituals provided.

I've been speaking with multiple people lately who are all struggling with the same thing, so perhaps a post on this topic is germane.

Unless you understand the tradition you're working with and why certain things have certain meanings, you probably do not have the background required to make effective substitutions.

Working within someone else's established tradition is not the same as working within your personal eclectic path.

Imagine you go into a working group which is super into bioregional practice and they've developed elaborate rituals which always work for them.

They give you a purification ritual which calls for a red apple, wild-harvested cotton, and local mulberries to be worked over during a full moon.

They do not tell you why each of these things is included. They just give you the list.

We're going to substitute a store-bought cotton ball, obviously, and what to do about the mulberries? We can google "mulberry correspondences," find out they're related to "healing" which is the closest thing we can figure has anything to do with a purification ritual, then pretty much figure that since chamomile is associated with sleep and purification, and sleep is a Lunar thing, right, that we can just use a sleepytime chamomile tea bag, and there you have it!

What the working group has failed to tell you is that this entire ritual is based on local mythology where the cotton wight fell in love with the mulberry dryad and they got married under the full moon by sharing an apple, and the entire ritual isn't based on sympathetic container magic, but is a heirophany which recreates the marriage of local sacred spirits, each of whom has sworn to heal and purify those who honor their love.

A heck of a lot of witchcraft authors do not break down why every single step is taken.

And if you apply contemporary witch-lite logic to everything ("cotton is white so I'm going to relate that to color correspondences and substitute a white candle for purity"), you can end up immediately canceling out a spell.

Not understanding or connecting with certain spell/ritual steps is not a good reason to change them.

You had mulberries once as a kid and they gave you stomach cramps and now you personally associate them with hexing and sickness, so even though there is a ripe mulberry tree outside, you are going to go get a container of blackberries instead, which you personally associate with purification, and -

(You get the drift)

The spell calls for making a paper box, within which you hide the wild cotton and mulberry. Then, at a crossroads at the full moon, you unfold the box to reveal its contents, and offer an apple to the correspondences.

Which would mean we'd have to learn how to make a paper box (fun!) but also like, why this unfolding thing? Nothing I've read so far in my witchcraft books has explained the magical meaning behind opening a paper box. This is basically a container spell, right? I'll just use a glass jar.

(The plant spirits who informed the local coven about this spellwork specified an opaque, degradable container)

If you're using other people's work, you're more or less sacrificing yourself to the reality that they probably are not explaining everything to you, and that your assumptions about what makes that magic tick could be so far off base that even your most educated guesses will fall short.

Yeah, using other people's traditions can mean you don't have what's required to do everything, and that's kind of just the way it is.

I'm not trying to be Mr. Just Go And Buy Stuff You Moneybags, but I guess I am being Mr. If You Can't Do It Then You Can't Do it.

And no, I'm not saying that it's impossible to figure out substitutions.

I'm specifically referring to a situation where a practitioner is trying to figure out magic, hasn't been able to make strides, and then it turns out they've been radically modifying and altering spells from specific traditions to a point where the spell is obviously functionally DOA.

At one point I was learning some slightly advanced bit of coding. I downloaded a set of files from a code library and installed them on my website.

The thing was, at that point in my education, I had enough experience to basically understand what was going on with each file. So, I edited them as I went, modifying them to my custom specifications.

Wouldn't you know it! When I launched the code it was broken. DOA, if you will.

I went back to the code library, and the top comment was,

INSTALL THE FILES AND MAKE SURE THEY WORK BEFORE YOU TRY TO CHANGE THEM. Everyone keeps changing things before they even test launch it and then they come back here and complain that the code is broken. IT ISN'T BROKEN.

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Malleus Draconia - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Malleus: So, this is the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art… It's much more impressive than I had imagined. Very fascinating to see their exhibits touch on varied matters of import.

Malleus: Art galleries in Briar Valley generally feature art exhibits revolving around fae lore. This is a refreshing visit.

Malleus: This place does seem to have a few works of art that I can place, however. And I see that paintings that depict the Thorn Fairy seem to still gather a crowd here.

???: Look at all them surrounding just one person in full force… That's just cowardly.

Malleus: No need to chide them, Spade. It's cruel enough to expect those children of man to hold their own against a great and powerful being.

Deuce: D… DRACONIA-SENPAI!? HELLO, SIR!

Malleus: Hmph, don't bristle so. We can take this prime opportunity to study this painting together.

Malleus: When the Thorn Fairy visited human lands, she was immediately met with animosity…

Malleus: The number of art pieces that depict this very story is numerous, even in Briar Valley. We even had one displayed in the castle I was raised in.

Malleus: When I was a wee lad… My tutors would constantly tell me to grow up to "be a mage as great and powerful as her."

Deuce: Your… tutors!? There were people that could actually teach you something!?

Malleus: Of course.  I had some of the finest mages in Briar Valley at my disposal.

Malleus: I often found my history and etiquette lessons to be of great interest… But there was no one who could instruct me in the ways of magic.

Malleus: Of course, that would be because everything from their magical power levels to their actual capabilities were far below me in strength.

Deuce: Wow, that's amazing… Can't believe you were that strong from a young age.

Malleus: That is nothing too surprising. My grandmother possessed formidable magic, and so did my mother, I hear.

Malleus: However, it took me quite some time to fully understand the difference in strength between myself and those around me.

Malleus: "Why are you teaching me something so ridiculously simple?" I'd angrily wail every class. "Are you underestimating me?"

Malleus: Every time I sent a tutor packing, my guardian wouldn't hesitate to scold me mercilessly.

Deuce: You're saying there was someone who could even scold you!? Briar Valley is way too intense…

Malleus: Even I would listen to the advice of a trusted person. When I think back on it, I certainly had my more immature moments.

Malleus: Only incidents such as burning the gardens to a desolate crisp, or destroying castle towers by calling down lightning strikes, however.

Deuce: THOSE ARE HUGE INCIDENTS!!

Deuce: Ack! If I make Draconia-senpai angry now, the museum might be in trouble…!?

Malleus: No worries, I am no longer a child. I would not do such a thing as destroy a museum filled with priceless artifacts on a mere whim.

Malleus: It would be more logical for me to punish the offending target than affect my surroundings in my ire, would it not?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Deuce: That's a painting of the Lord of the Underworld being displayed there. And those two guys with him, they're…

Malleus: They must be his retainers. It is said that they would obediently carry out his commands and go to great lengths to do so for him.

Deuce: Yeah… I always imagined the Underworld to be dark and scary, but these two look pretty nice.

Malleus: It will come back to bite you if you make assumptions based on appearances, Spade. Apparently, these two were skilled shapeshifters.

Malleus: There are tales of how they would use this skill in order to back any villainous adversaries into a corner.

Malleus: If they did not possess that raw competence, I'm certain that they would not have been depicted in these works of art.

Deuce: I bet the Lord of the Underworld would be proud to hear that tales of his subordinates are still passed down for generations.

Malleus: To have the tales of his subordinates passed down for generations… Yes, I could sympathize with that.

Malleus: Within the royal family of Briar Valley, there is a tradition that at a certain age we may select our own attendants and guards.

Malleus: I would also be very proud indeed if someone I personally selected were to be acknowledged by the masses, as well as future generations to come.

Deuce: Right? But man, when you talk about attendants and guards… It just feels like we live in two completely different worlds.

Deuce: It's pretty amazing that you always have someone who's looking out for you and your daily needs, though.

Malleus: It also can be a headache. Back in the castle, I would be surrounded by other people day in and day out, simply there to fix my attire or my hair and the like.

Malleus: When my acceptance to Night Raven College was ascertained, my life was unburdened tremendously.

Malleus: My guardian stated to me, "You'll have to learn how to take care of yourself enough that you can survive on your own," and so…

Malleus: I would read books from the outside world that were provided to me, and found the wealth of knowledge fascinating.

Malleus: Those books granted me an abundance of knowledge, such as how to go shopping, or how to work laundry machines and other electrical appliances.

Deuce: He learned how to use electrical appliances from reading a book…!? He really was raised in a completely different environment.

Deuce: But honestly, I really can't believe that you go shopping on your own, or do your own laundry… Today is full of surprises.

Malleus: …Well, Sebek does insist on tending to my needs. And there is much I do leave to him.

Deuce: Ahaha… Yeah, Sebek has boasted about stuff in the past, saying something like, "I had the honor of hand-washing Malleus-sama's clothing!"

Malleus: …I can absolutely picture that, despite the fact that I had been perfectly fine doing my own laundry before he started to attend this academy.

Malleus: Although, for some time after I arrived here, there was no end to the number of difficulties I had due to my inexperience.

Malleus: For example, there was this one instance when I knew not the location of the laundry room… and chose to hand-wash my garments in the kitchen sink instead.

Deuce: EH!?

Malleus: …My fellow dormmates who encountered that spectacle in the kitchen had the same reaction as you just now.

Malleus: I inquired as to where the laundry room was, but all froze as if petrification had been cast upon them…

Malleus: When it seemed they finally had returned to their senses, they insisted on allowing them to do my laundry.

Malleus: In that moment, I had been swept up in their persistence, but… It does me no good to leave it for others to do.

Malleus: Sometimes I do clean my clothes with magic as I oft did back home, but I do try to use the laundry machine when I can as well.

Malleus: There aren't many who use the laundry room in the early morning or late night.

Malleus: After some trial and error, I was able to figure out how to properly use the washer, as well as the dryer.

Deuce: Even though you could totally clean everything with magic in the blink of an eye… It's so cool to see how you're always working to improve even when no one's watching!

Malleus: Of course, as it should be. Seeing that I am a student at this school, I must also learn what I can from my peers.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Malleus: Oho, I see this museum also carries a variable assortment of paintings depicting merfolk legends as well.

Deuce: She has a real big smile… But hey, look at that wave behind her! Was the ocean waters that choppy…?

Malleus: This depicts the moment the mermaid princess made the determination to go to the surface.

Malleus: That large wave behind her represents her courageous decision… Or at least, it most likely represents that.

Deuce: Woah, that sounds like it could be…! Draconia-senpai, do you know a lot about paintings?

Malleus: I briefly touched upon it as part of my education.

Malleus: I would not say I do not hold an appreciation for art. Rather than paintings, however, I do prefer three-dimensional objects… sculptures, especially.

Deuce: When you say sculptures, you mean the ones made out of stone or bronze… right? I'm sorry, I really don't know anything about those stuff.

Malleus: You are more or less on the correct path.

Malleus: Take the statues of the Great Seven at our academy, for instance. Sometimes they are regarded as simply part of the backdrop on campus…

Malleus: But as years pass, both stone and bronze statues will gradually change in appearance.

Malleus: Caretakers will come and go, and the outdoor elements will constantly batter them… Their similarities to the original mold would change over time to no small extent.

Malleus: Some may perceive this as mere "deterioration," but…

Malleus: As for me, I believe that changes in those statues are in fact a profound thing.

Malleus: Whenever I encounter one that looks entirely different than what it originally should have looked, I cannot help but feel as though it has lived a good, long life.

Deuce: So basically, they're living pieces of art…?

Malleus: Heh. A wonderful interpretation, Spade.

Deuce: I don't really get how that was good, but that was him praising me just now, right? Uh, thank you!

Malleus: If you find yourself interested in sculptures, you should seek me out once more.

Malleus: I can explain to you at length not only about stone sculptures and bronze sculptures, but also gargoyles as well.

Deuce: Gargoyles…?

Malleus: Ah, so you aren't familiar with them. No matter. I'll start with explaining what they are…

Deuce: Uhhhh… Wait, uh, I was actually thinking about asking Rosehearts-ryōchō about the paintings with the Card Soldiers!

Deuce: Please, I hope you can wait for another opportunity to explain it all to me! I'll be leaving now, Draconia-senpai!

Malleus: He shouldn't run in the museum like so… I fear it is only a matter of time before the sound of Rosehearts' ireful shouts fill the halls.

Malleus: Really now, humans sure are always in a hurry. I think I'll take my time taking in the exhibits in the museum.

Malleus: Oh, what do we have here…? This is a painting of the princess who was blessed by the diurnal faes.

Malleus: What a lively birthday celebration. I wonder if I would have been invited to attend, had I lived in those times…

Malleus: …Hmph, they would do well to carefully think about who to invite to their celebrations. For if I were not invited to such a gala…

Malleus: I may have brought down upon them a cloud of destruction, darkening the sky and cursing them to the ends of the earth…

Requested by Anonymous.

[billskeis]

TOM KAULITZ PUNISHING THE FEMALE READERR OH MY GOODDDDDDDD!!

they ARE enemies so like shes flirting(kinda?) with billl and he sees that and takes her upstairs since its his party blabhblabala but he secretly likes her ykyky obvi so plspospos

ᡣ𐭩 punishments w tom

you glare at tom from across the room who talks to a group of other people, getting ridiculous and uncomfortably closer with two certain girls. they weren’t really anybody you knew, and you couldn’t deny the fact that they were attractive.

it was tom who got on every single nerve on your body.

now don’t get me wrong.. ever since you and tom met back two or three years ago you never got off on the same footing. constantly at each other’s neck that the rest of the band had to sometimes put the both of you in time out despite being fully grown adults.

you don’t remember what started the feud, nor did you really care. tom’s attitude towards you fucking sucked and you obviously weren’t gonna stick around and let him berate or get on your ass for it.

you weren’t that kinda girl.

before the party started, you were helping the four of them set the house up. putting decorations, setting the food and snacks out, prepping the music. tom insisted everything to be perfect and of course he was on your ass the most and tasked you with completely everything while bill, georg, and gustav basically had their work cut out for them.

thankfully, the three of them felt bad for you and volunteered to help, which led tom to scoff, roll his eyes and leave the room.

“i’m so sorry about tom, y/n, i don’t know why he’s acting like such a dick towards you,” bill sighs. never in his life has he ever seen his twin brother act like this. especially towards a gorgeous woman as yourself.

you were breathtaking, beautiful, and extremely humble about it. the completely opposite of who tom usually goes for in a woman anyway, maybe that’s why he doesn’t attain a certain liking for you?

doesn’t matter, your bill’s friend. not his. (but it would’ve been nice if you were his too)

“maybe he likes you,” georg chimes in, you almost choke on your breath as you attempt to blow up a balloon, “yeah right, he doesn’t even bat an eye towards me, “i don’t know y/n.. when you’re not looking.. tom’s looking right at you,” gustav adds to the delusions.

you on the other hand don’t inch a belief into their words. they’re most likely mocking you. that was until tom came back into the room to your assumptions, grab something, but he just looked at you for a moment, and then left.

rolling your eyes, you just continue to blow up the balloons. after knotting a tie into the rubber, you hit the blown up balloon to an open space in the room. looking up, you see the three of them just staring at you.

“what?” you ask grabbing a streamer, “did you NOT see that y/n?” georg asks back at you with gustav nodding, “i’m sure it was nothing, that stare of his just meant he was secretly judging me..” bill just looked as tom’s one-sided interaction sparked a banter between you and then georg and gustav.

why was his brother acting like this if he liked y/n?

his arm slinks around the girl. she’s shorter than him. and most definitely into him. you didn’t really care for other than the fact that he didn’t even try or matter of fact WANT to be friends with you.

that made you angry, you thought you were a good person. so what was it about you that made him utterly hate you? it’s even worse over the fact that he cannot simply act civil when you’re hanging out with the rest of the band.

clutching the glass in your hand, you finish the alcohol that had been watering down and mixing with the warming ice. you place the cup onto the table and stumble your way towards the couch.

the alcohol hit you a little more than it should’ve, but you didn’t care.

you spot bill, and smile in content. making your way, you plop yourself down on the empty spot next to him.

“hi y/n! wait—are you okay..?” he turns his body slightly to face yours that’s slumped into the cushions, tightly holding onto a pillow. “yeah, i just don’t understand why your brother is a total jerk! i mean he can talk to that blonde broad over there! not that she’s a broad—matter of fact, she’s gorgeous, and she’s done nothing to me.. fuck! bill, what’s wrong with me,” all you could do was rant. you were upset, angry, what more could the world want from you.

a warm embrace welcomes you. it was bill, he rubbed your back up and down and in attempt to comfort you. he himself is curious about his brother’s behaviour, and as your best friend, is willing to figure out why.

“there’s nothing wrong with you y/n, i think tom is just having trouble expressing himself towards you.. but if it makes you feel better, i can talk to him about it.” you never asked bill to do that even though you really did want to, afraid it would dispute something in between them and led to them fighting. you know how much bill valued his brother.

“oh thankyouthankyou bill, you’re the best! just tell me everything after okay??” giggling, your arms swing around bill to hug him closer to your body.

from across the room, a certain someone did not enjoy this.

“and that’s when i— tom??” the woman shouted his name as he walked away from her to head towards your direction. tom clenched his jaw as he made his way across the room, stopping in front of the couch where you and bill sat.

a tap was on your shoulder, you were still hugging bill although he let go of you, still finding the comfort in your best friend. “hm? something wrong bill?” you look at him who’s looking up at something—or a certain someone, above you.

“what the hell do you want?” “get up.” “what?” “i said get up, y/n,” your face contorts. and although you did want a certain relationship with tom, yet again, in no way were you going to let him talk to you like this. “i don’t owe you anything,” “godfuckingdamnit y/n don’t make me do this,” “do what?” you scowl at him.

he sighs deeply, kneeling down to pick your body up, he takes you off the couch swiftly and drapes you over his shoulder. a harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelp, “t-tom!?” he jumps a bit to adjust your body on his, mostly for your comfort as his shoulder dug into your lower torso.

“i’m taking her off your hands, bye bill.” all bill could do was wave the two of you away, sitting there in shock. now he knows why he was acting that way towards you, smiling. he swirls the drink in his hand and takes a sip. a figure sits beside bill and drapes his arm across bill’s shoulder.

“hey,” “hi,” “wanna makeout?” “hm, why not.”

walking up the stairs, your body doesn’t even attempt to fight back. your head was overwhelmed with millions of thoughts as to what the hell was happening right now and it ached from the way you were being carried.

entering a bedroom, tom closes and locks the door behind you to ensure nobody can enter. the music loud and blaring still escapes into the room. tom throws you softly onto the bed, your body bouncing a bit. in attempts to fix yourself to sit on it, you yell, “what the hell is wrong with you??”

ignoring you, tom joined you onto the bed and sat down, he wrestles you onto him to which you first attempted to fight back. but tom works out, and your lazy ass didn’t so we obviously know who won this battle.

tom has you laid across his thighs, your stomach flush to them. “think i didn’t see you flirt with my brother?” “huh? what’re you talking about?” tom whips his arm to land a smack on your ass, “don’t flirt with bill.” “OWwhatthefuck—first of all, i wasn’t even flirting with bill. second, why do you even care?”

smack. the impact of the second hit was even harder than the first one, which led you to wince and bit your lip to somehow soothe the pain.

he doesn’t even answer your questions, which led you to scoff out loud. tom inhales sharply at your small yet impactful reaction, “count.” “n-no—” “i said, count. or else i won’t be using my hands.” you gaze shifts a little more down towards his torso to see the belt that held up his jeans.

swallowing hard, another smack lands on your bum, “fuck, t-three..” “good girl.”

tom rubs circles after each hit he made. after caressing your ass for a moment, he pinches at the hem of your body con dress that hugs your curves quite perfectly in my opinion. “can i lift it?”

you knew there was no use in saying no. because despite this whole facade going on, you wanted this. he wanted this. it was a mutual thing, so you just nodded at him to see him smile. and god, was he just fucking attractive.

yet again tom spanks the flesh to watch it rivet. two bright red spots showing up to reveal how inflamed and sensitive your bum was getting with each hit, “schatz,” “f-fi—i mean, four..” a heavy sigh was heard from above you. you hid your face in embarrassment between your hands until you heard the buckling of a belt being removed.

“t-tom, please..” you whimpered while shaking your head. you knew of the impact of a belt and how hard it would hurt. not that you had any experience in such, it was just common sense y’know? “i know, i know, just but two or three and then i won’t do it anymore, that okay? will you let me do that?”

his words were so enticing, and laced with sweetness that had you swooning. never in your life had you thought you would’ve felt something for tom. you assumed that until the end of time, he would be your sworn enemy.

but an enemy wouldn’t have you bent over his lap and with your ass bare to spank you, would he?

with a whip, tom cracked his belt onto your butt. the sense of leather hitting you way harder than his hand would’ve, you cried into the bed as you gripped onto the bed, “five… t-that’s five,” “well done schatzi, you’re doing so good f’me.. now a few more okay?”

“thank you,” tom hands you a water bottle to drink after engaging in such, indecent acts.. standing near the edge of the bed, you sigh at how awkward he looks above you and pat down at the spot beside you. you weren’t sitting by the way, in no way in hell were you going to after tom had assaulted your butt cheeks, promising that after every hit he would stop, he hit about 20-25 times before you really couldn’t take it anymore.

they sting so bad you probably wouldn’t be able to sit or wear anything tight for a while.

“what’s with the silence? just ten minutes ago you had me on your lap, spanking me,” you joke to lighten the mood. “i’m so sorry y/n, i don’t know what came over me.” as you take another sip, you hand tom the water bottle for him to place on the bedside table.

“no biggie, it kinda gave me closure to find out that you didn’t hate me, i mean, who the hell would spank someone they hate? now THAT’s some real kinky shit,” “but i never hated you,” “well—excuse me for thinking that i did because whenever we interacted YOU were the one being an asshole. not me,” tom blinked feverishly, a little aloof as to not know what to say.

“yeah, that was my bad.. i just, didn’t know if i ever told you that you would like me back, so i shunned you away,” “oh my god tom, that’s not how liking someone works. you pulling that shit, assuming that the person you’re doing it to will make them think you like them; works the complete opposite! me for example!” “that’s what georg and gustav told me to do..” you looked at him in shock.

now why the hell would they set him up like that?

“are you serious??” you ask, “u-uh.. yeah..” “those little—y’know what, they will be dealt with later. but for your information tom, that whole asshole act that you had going on, doesn’t work with me,” “i’m realizing that now, sorry y/n,” “s’okay, the spanking bit was hot. might ask you to do it again. haha,” your joke was able to make tom blush a bit.

he’s never done or acted that way before with anyone.

he rubs the back of his neck, slightly chuckling, “well.. i hope it’s okay now that i have you to show me the ropes, yea?” “i basically HAVE to, but first, you’re taking care of me because look at the state you left me in, then we can discuss this whole ‘liking’ and potential dating thing..”

he turns to look at the sight beside him, your dress was still pulled over your lower body. your ass was always puffy, but it was swollen puffy with a tint of pink to it. tom had left to not only grab a water bottle but aloe vera to rub onto the skin to soothe the redness and irritation.

he plants a kiss onto your cheek, “my responsibility now.”

[cerastes]

Right, look, forgive me for placing a damp blanket over your shoulders, but, you know that one post where it’s a screenshot of a Twitter post where one person is asking “hey we’re censoring armpits now?” “yeah because there are freaks in twitter I guess” “yeah me uncensor them” on the pic of a girl cosplaying as Cammy from Street Fighter?

Alright, I’m linked that post now and then, or @’d in it, and yeah I get it, it’s in good fun, I can see the comedy, but it makes me uncomfortable because that really shouldn’t be acceptable behavior in a vacuum. I don’t know the cosplayer in question, so maybe she’s ok with that stuff or even encourages it, I don’t know, but let’s assume this is all in a vacuum for a second and that she’s just a cosplay enthusiast, and maybe even infer that it does make her a bit or more than just a bit uncomfortable based on her having censored her armpit in the first place. Assumptions you’d make, perhaps, without knowing the person at all.

That’s really not good! If it were a fictional character, say, fanart of Cammy, a grown woman, man, who cares if you leave a reply saying “I want to motorboat her asscheeks so hard it’s going to register as an 8.5 in the Richter Scale” or “Not even a chastity belt forged in the finest forges of Mordor could keep me away from her lower lips”, it’s a fictional adult character, who cares. Now, it’s not at all the same when you are directing those comments towards an actual living person. It shouldn’t be your first instinct to say something like that unless you’re 100% absolutely sure that the cosplayer is cool with those kinds of comments or interactions. For all you know, they simply like cosplaying as characters they like, and suddenly, you hit them with a “Hello! I want to make your armpits my keto diet supplement!” which is... Not fucking cool, my dude.

And this isn’t just weebs, alright, because I know this post is going to have some braindead reblog that’ll be like “degenerate weebs deserve the rifle” in the tags, save yourself the keystrokes, this was a pretty big problem around 4 years ago with subs and bottoms, even on this website. Obviously, you can’t say subs and bottoms exist as a monolithic entity, this isn’t about all of them, but there was a VERY blatant social license for people to reblog posts of attractive cosplayers or women into fitness with comments like “oh my god crush me mommy”, which is not a normal thing to say to someone you don’t know. I’m singling out this particular behavior because it was defended in the vein of “oh but I want to be Beaten By The Girl and Fucked By The Girl, NOT the other way around #feminist” which was hilariously duplicitous and shameless. There’s nothing wrong with these wishes, but just like Armpit-kun up there, unless you’re 100% certain the person behind the photos is A-OK with these sorts of comments, Well, Don’t Be A Fucking Weirdo! It’s real people, behave. 

[onesidedradiostatic]

I can just imagine Vox scrolling through forums and aggressively correcting people who draw Alastor fanart based on his shitty sketch. He can never keep up though. The deluge of inaccurate Alastors is overwhelming. I wonder if Alastor would be more annoyed or amused by people's assumptions of what he looks like. Prolly some people start making creepypastas based on him which I'm sure he'd enjoy very much.

(referring to this post)

okay but also. imagine vox corrects it, posts an actual accurate representation of alastor, either with the old photo or some version he made val draw or something and then the people are like "but he looks so boring" "why is he so red" "I like my design better" (of course there would be others actually into it but there WOULD be haters who are attached to certain previous interpretations they don't want to let go). the inaccurate fanart continues as a result. vox continues to be unable to be satisfied by it, leading him into making some very poor financial decisions.

if someone in the hotel crew found all the inaccurate fanart and showed it to alastor, I think alastor would mostly be annoyed by like the more wholesome looking ones but would probably like ones that made him look more like an eldritch being. although I think he may be annoyed if he found out it was based on VOX'S shitty drawing. still yeah I think he'd enjoy some of the creepypastas that come out of it LMAOOOOO

[punkpandapatrixk]

🌓Sweet Girl Venus ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This world contains in it a great number of elements that push most everyone to toughen up and abandon all senses of calm, grace and loveliness on the path towards growing up. In this world, so many people believe that the only way towards great achievements is by becoming tough. Whilst it is true that strength of character is crucial for survival, I don’t think toughness has to translate into being actually hard on oneself or everyone else.

Psychology says, ‘When someone is exceedingly critical of the smallest, most trivial things, that means they crave Love most of all.’

Here is a love letter from the Venusian Goddess harmonic of your Higher Self to yourself💌More than you may realise at this moment, you really are still a sweet and kind baby of gentle melodies and fragrant bouquet💐If you’d eventually realise this of yourself wholeheartedly, oh, that would be…

♥︎

SONG: teddy bear by Hamasaki Ayumi

MOVIE: Uptown Girls (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Bubblegum Blue Baby

VIBE: Hatsukoi Shoujo (Singer’s First Love) by Sheena Ringo & Noir by SUNMI

what’s really sweet about you – King of Wands Rx

You’re the type of person who, in spite of your passion and determination, aren’t cruel. You possess a strong character and try to uphold justice everywhere you go. You’re really a courageous fellow with a heart of gold. Baby-blue gold. I see that you’re often the type of friend who cheers other people up; you always have an idea in your mind to make someone else feels better about their darker days. When somebody is lacking courage or confidence in themselves, you’re the one who says, ‘I believe in you, tho! It’s clear to ME you can do it!’

And because you always seem so energetic, confident and capable, people easily believe your words. I think people haven’t told you enough how grateful they are that you’re always cheering them on like that. It’s not that they’re not grateful; it’s that they don’t know how to convey their gratitude properly. You know, sometimes words fail us. Especially when you’re the type of magickal butterfly that attracts naturally a lot of people who are not so confident in themselves. Such people, sometimes they simply don’t know how to utter words of gratitude because not many people in their lives have shown them enough appreciation. You could be, probably, like the ONLY person in their world who shows them appreciation like that!

You’re really so kind and charitable, more than you’ll ever hear from the mouths of other people♥︎

honouring your softness – King of Cups

And I guess, for the most part, such people really see that you’re an authoritative figure in your own respect. Because you appear to them so large and magnanimous, people don’t even suspect that you also have your down days. Certain days, you’re also in the mood for getting praises just like everybody else! But because you don’t get that as much as you’d like, sometimes you get sad. I think you struggle with a little self-loathing (or a sense of being a phoney) every now and then, feeling like you’re not good enough whilst everybody else seems to move ever forward, supported by your encouraging words.

Sometimes you feel envious of others for what they have. They seem to have everything going on a lot easier than you. But baby, stop! This is all your wild assumption. The truth is, people really be trying their best to put up a strong face, to put their best foot forward and come and tell you good news about them, because they want to get praises from you😅Yeah, some things in Life really be tricky like that. As convoluted it gets, this is actually their way of thanking you. You encouraged them before, you gave them so much courage, inspiration and motivation; now they’re doing better and they want to let you know it’s thanks to you! They want you to feel proud of both themselves and the magnanimous ways you’ve cared for them🥲

Well, now that you know… Pretty baby, stop being so sad!🐬

a happily ever after – 7 of Cups

You’re the type of person who, most of the time, has your head in the clouds. This makes you feel ungrounded often. I think you sometimes feel overwhelmed by reality itself. There’s a lot of things you don’t understand and you often feel lost about the meaning of existence and your place in the world. Fret not—you’re hardly a failure. You’re magick, baby💙Magickal beings often find living in the Human world incredibly taxing, so you can be patient with yourself—it’s a group thing LMAO

If anything, it is exactly because you’re a magical being like this that you can be sure you’re going to get everything you want out of Life. As long as you don’t allow yourself to stop dreaming in exchange for being practical! You see, the world really isn’t as linear as you think. So, be confident in who you are and your own personal favourite methods of manifesting. There’s quite nothing in this world you can’t have. You just need to learn to focus on one or two things at a time so you get each thing you want faster⚡️Isn’t so wonderful to be so magickal?

Know that you could be so much happier. You could be so much more spiritually content because your heart really is good. In spite of some things you may believe about your flaws, your Higher Self really doesn’t view you that way. In this world that is a world of chaos where 98% of people are hurting and hurting each other, it’s expected, so it’s not such a big deal. You really are such a kind Soul and your sweetness, your charitable bubbliness, just needs your acknowledgement so you can give yourself more tender care🌸

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💙

quantum glow-up! – Silver Physician (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Magick

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Soft Enterprising Boss

VIBE: Cookie by NewJeans & YEPPI YEPPI by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – Ace of Pentacles

You are a powerhouse of creativity. You’re incredibly smart and resourceful. You’re like an idea bank but you couple that with real, tangible efforts that always produce real results. You have an amazing capability for laser focus and your work ethic is almost inimitable. With that, you’re truly a dependable friend who has a lot to offer those around you. People turn to you for advice, and you always have something valuable to offer. But yeah… that doesn’t mean your input is always appreciated. But that’s not your fault, right?

You need to admit that a lot of people are hopelessly confused. Sometimes, people simply want a friend to confide in and hear their whining. I know you’re almost always there to lend an ear even though it kinda irritates you that people seem so lost, so incapable of helping themselves. You genuinely want to help, but like already mentioned, sometimes all someone needs is a company that listens compassionately. I think you’re good as long as you’re there to be a pillar for someone in need.

So really, you needn’t concern yourself with how that someone will resolve their issues if they, indeed, do not seem that interested in resolving their own issues🤪It’s not like you’re getting paid for caring so much about other people’s personal drama!

honouring your softness – 2 of Pentacles

More than you give yourself credit for, you’re actually a really reasonable person. You’re grounded in reality and able to weigh options more realistically than most people you know. You’re always thinking of pros and cons in your head. That’s wonderfully responsible, of course, but sometimes you could get stuck in a rut when you simply can’t decide. Still, I think you’re such a wonderfully capable person who’s willing to go the distance when your mind’s finally set for a prize.

You’re ambitious and tenacious; no matter the challenge, you’re up for whatever. If it requires lessons, training, complex practices, extensive readings, you can do it all. But hey, stop to breathe a little, will you? The world doesn’t end tomorrow so you needn’t hurry so much, alright? It benefits no one to be so hard on yourself whatever the rewards may be at the end. What’s really exciting about this whole thing is how much you’re enjoying yourself as you gain knowledge and skills. So, I hope you remember this at all times.

As long as you’re having fun, Life’s good, you know. You can’t possibly think that Life’s only gonna get good when you’re at the end of your journey, right?

a happily ever after – 8 of Wands

You are a visionary—admit it. You have amazing ideas and your visions could possibly even change the world. You could become someone profoundly inspirational because there’s a teacher-like quality in you. If you feel that you’re not that good at communicating your ideas, it’s definitely a skill you can polish. You really have got it in you to become an effective speaker, even on a public platform, because your mind is usually quite methodical. Practice is all you need.

Even if you identify as someone shy, or timid, actually you will be so much happier in Life if you could be in the public eye for when you do so, you get to be charitable with your skills and knowledge. When you’re older in Life, you will have gained so much expertise in various disciplines, and if you’re not gonna share with others, how else are you gonna ever feel blessed?

You are a shooting star sent from Mars—or Venus—to teach Humanity a transcendent way of living. I hope you never forget how precious you are just for the fact you’ve reincarnated on Earth in this passage of time😜

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻🧡

quantum glow-up! – Green Magus (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Fertility

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

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Pile 3 – New-World Inventor

VIBE: Super Shy by NewJeans & Spicy by aespa

what’s really sweet about you – 4 of Cups

Gosh, you are such a loyal one that sometimes it comes to your detriment. You’re the type of person who could go the extra mile to accompany someone who doesn’t even deserve your compassion. You’re willing to sacrifice a lot to make another person feels less alone even when you’re not getting the same in return. I think you have a noble heart and that’s something clearly valuable. But… I hope you know when to stop giving your support to those who are clearly losers, hopeless cases. There’s only so much you could give to another when your own Cups aren’t getting filled in return.

‘People treat you the way they view you. Be blind if you want.’

I know you don’t want to disappoint because you know how depressing it is to get disappointed. You know first hand all the painful sensations that come with having your trust broken. But the way I see it, you shouldn’t turn your past disappointments into a goody two shoes tendency to please everybody. Are you certain this isn’t just a weird overcompensation that could destroy you in the end? You may wanna check out this concept of a Good Girl Syndrome. Understanding the symptoms could just help you unravel the patterns🧵🪡✂️

honouring your softness – Queen of Pentacles

You are an Old Soul, and it doesn’t matter how young or old you are right now, you have this innate desire to be of service to others. On a profound Soul level, you have this magnanimous energy that makes you want to care and nourish those you come into contact with. You are really a kind person, incredibly generous, to a fault LMAO After all, this Human world is littered with shameless takers who do not set a limit for themselves. You don’t wanna be stupid enough to get drained all the time by ingrates, right?

So, it’s time to stop giving too much of yourself and start affirming that you, too, deserve the company of people who will nourish you as much as you them. If you don’t start reaffirming this daily, it may never manifest, which would be such a shame because you’re so deserving to be blessed with warmth and sweet emotions🥧

a happily ever after – Page of Swords Rx

At the present moment, you may be thinking you’re simply afraid of conflicts and arguments. Heck, you don’t even like feeling other people’s negative emotions. If you were to stand up for yourself, you’re sure everybody would give you a nasty look, or even spew very unkind words to make you feel bad. So you know this and you try to avoid that as much as possible. But that’s got to stop now because when you really think about it, all the chaos and conflicts are WITHIN you. Is that even worth it? Do you think you deserve to live like this?

‘You’re keeping the peace around you, but what about the peace in you?’

I’d like to remind you, you’re really such a smart person. You’re so knowledgeable and actually, if you’re honest, have great desires to be of service to the world. You’re a high-value somebody, so you’re allowed to muster the courage to affirm that you CAN take up space and still maintain your boundaries. Alright? One day you’re going to really change the world. But right now, you need to change your world first.

Don’t be afraid of being seen as a bitch, especially when you know you’re not a bad person🍒Sweet girls can still be SPICY🌶

SWEET GIRL ENTERPRISE🔻💗

quantum glow-up! – Gold Astronomer (John Dee)

practical self-care tips♥︎ – Priestess of Innocence

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'till you make it | Part 5

Eddie was almost half certain that he was either hallucinating, or still asleep and dreaming the whole thing. But Steve Harrington was in his living room, perusing the mug collection as if it were fine art or some shit, and he wasn’t there to buy drugs. The van had gotten uncomfortable pretty quickly after Eddie’s tragic realisation, and while his Uncle was definitely there, and giving Eddie a very obvious what the fuck Ed’s ‘look’ while he made them both coffee, Steve seemed pretty at ease in the place.

He didn’t look like he belonged in any way shape or form, with his mega-bucks hairstyle, the polo that probably cost more than Eddie was making per day on those dates, and the jeans that probably—okay he needed to stop pricing up what Steve was wearing.

Needed to stop making assumptions about him.

“You take sugar, kid?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, uh, cream two sugars, please. Thank you.” If Steve noticed the surprise on Wayne’s face at the presence of manners well… he didn’t seem offended by it. in fact he was still pretty amazed by the mug collection. “Where’d you get all these?”

“Spent a few years’a my life as a long haul trucker before Ed’s landed on my doorstep back in the day, the road ain’t no place for a kid so I packed it in, but there’s always lil knick knacks in pit stops along the way, had people say they’d probably be worth somethin someday, bit‘a history an all that, but… that ain’t why I have em. Each one has a memory attached to it, makes somethin as mundane as a mug, precious.” Memories, the walls were littered with memories.

Such a small space packed with so much. So many little bits and bobs, clutter that told stories, personalities told by clutter.

Steve loved it. He found it… comforting.

Eddie couldn’t stop the foot he so ungracefully stuck into his mouth however with the quip “must seem messy to you, huh?” That wiped the smile right from Steve’s perfect face. Replaced it with a little frown of confusion.

“Hm? No… no, not at all, what? What makes you think that?”

“Well, I’ve seen your house dude, it’s looks straight out of a showroom or somethin.” Couldn’t take the foot out of the mouth now, best just chew on it until his uncle whacked him round the back of the head with a newspaper, hissing,

“Manners don’t cost nothin boy, I raised you better than to be a little shit to guests. The hell’s your problem?”

“I honestly have no idea.” Eddie didn’t even complain about the whack, it didn’t hurt, but it did dislodge the foot from his mouth, allowing him to level Steve and his confused face an apology “sorry man, I’m just…”

“Defensive?”

“Mmhm”

“S’fine, I get it.” And wasn’t that just fucking heartbreaking. Especially since he smiled so sweetly when Wayne gave him his own little steaming mug, it had mickey mouse on it. “For the record though, I like it. The collection I mean… I think I’d like something like this in my own house someday, just… memories everywhere… neither of my parents are big on collections, I think the only ones they have are my mom’s vinyl’s and my dad’s wine.”

“Your mom has vinyl’s?” The wine collection was predictable but vinyl’s?

“Mm, up in the attic, I’ll show you sometime.” He had a player in the sun room, could probably bring a few boxes down and let Eddie rifle through them someday, maybe even convince his mom to bring some of them with them to the chalet, Eddie might get a kick out of at least a few of the records in there. “If you still wanna be seen with me after all this” an if she wouldn’t take them, best get the idea that they could still be friends after it all out in the open!

Eddie wasn’t bad, and Dustin adored him, constantly trying to get him to give Eddie a chance, sneaky little shit setting this up, probably had ulterior motives, so… why not?

Eddie didn’t get a chance to answer though, although his mouth was open ready to speak, Wayne beat him to it. “Now, it’s none’a my business but… what do you mean by all this?” Leaving Steve awkwardly sipping his coffee, looking at Eddie over the rim of his cup in question. Was it okay? Would it be okay to talk about it?

“As much as I’d love to say, ‘Steve’s invited me somewhere for a week!’ and have that be totally believable and not cause you a stress aneurysm… Wayne’s cool, Steve, you good with me talking about it?” There was obvious hesitation, more strangers who knew the riskier it could be for him, but— he nodded. He’d trust Wayne, as insane as that was, he didn’t even know Wayne, but… the man gave off a weird kind of trustworthy energy. And Eddie vouched for him so, “You know how I do that whole… date thing to freak parents out for girls? Stevie here needs my services.”

“You aint plannin on doin what I think you’re doin, are you boy? Are you out of your damn mind? Do you know how danger—”

“It’s okay!” Steve blurted cutting off the expected worry rant “it’s safe, I promise, my parents are… well… they might seem really detached from reality but—you don’t know them. I recently realised that neither do I… he’s not… gonna be freaking them out either, he’s just… playing a part to get them off my back for a while… I’m uh… I’m—” he looked at Eddie, briefly but long enough to catch the little nod of encouragement. It was okay. It was safe. So far things had been fine for him coming out, so far he’d been okay, there’d been no danger, and maybe doing it so many times had made it easier or something because it just… came out “I’m bisexual, they know, and have been throwing both women, and men at me trying to get me to finally settle down with someone and… while I agree, that’d be nice… I would love to do that, i’m not jazzed about the quality of the people they’re throwing at me.”

“…Your parents. The Harringtons, rich folk. Those folks… they’re safe?”

“Apparently, my dad’s even restructuring his company values to include people like me, trying to make it a safer place for us, and this was before I told them.” Something he’d had no idea about, something that he couldn’t believe, hence why he kept bringing it up, it was insane to him, how little he actually knew his parents, how wrong he’d been about them.

How wrong everyone had been about them.

“His parents are takin him to this chalet in Canada next week, Steve thinks they’re gonna ambush him with some random person that he’ll have to spend a whole week avoiding, so… he’s hiring me to act as his boyfriend. That cool with you, Wayne?” He didn’t have to ask. Eddie was a grown adult, he could do whatever he wanted, go wherever he wanted, but… Wayne deserved to know.

“… Can I meet em before you go?”

“Of course!”

“Not a chance.”

The worst part was, they both spoke at once. And Steve’s very positive answer, happened to be louder.

Part 7

[ostrichmonkey-games]

OC Incubators: TTRPG Design for Making Cool Little Guys

I've been thinking a lot about why some people like to play Certain Games and how that intersects with action figure style play and the desire to make your own little blorbos.

What is it about Certain Games (which will not be named so I don't go down a rabbit-hole of breaking apart that game's design lmao) that really gets people's sitting down and just making a whole bunch of cool OCs? You know, your zany wizards, sexy demony bards, and all of that.

So, I've talked a lot about this with some people (shoutout to @temporalhiccup), and I'm not the only person to be thinking on similar wavelengths (check out this fun read by @sprintingowl), and in those discussions and in that reading, I've put together a few what I think are Key Ingredients for making ttrpg that is also an OC incubator. At least, in the sense of how I would want to do it.

So first, what is an OC Incubator? My definition is basically any sort of semi-sandbox/open ended game where you make your own cool character and then go do cool things. Along the way of doing those cool things, you come up with cool stories and have your OC evolve in even more cool ways. Cool, yeah?

Here are the key ingredients I've identified for the incubator stew (store bought is fine);

Character Options

Character Potential

An Inviting Sandbox

So let's break these down a bit more below;

Character Options

Character options is the most straightforward of the points. You need interesting and fun options - building blocks - for the players to craft their little guys from. Options that are exciting and easily communicate their core identity quickly.

A lot of this is walking a fine balance of providing enough options that making a choice is exciting, but not too many so as to be overwhelming.

But ultimately, these options are there to hit the dollmaker, picrew, character customization screen, itch. It should be fun to make all those decisions.

Aside: I gotta do more stuff with lifepath systems.

Of all the main ingredients to our incubator, character options are probably the easiest to come up.

Character Potential

This is where things start to get a little more complicated. Potential is all about aspiration. It's less about being able to get to that point, but more about "oh wow, look at all these extra things my cool OC could do".

These options are something to look forward to, something to think about. Neat cool extra doodads for making your cool little oc even cooler and expand on your cool little oc's story like milestones and growth.

In a lot of ways, these sorts of options are just an iteration of the initial character options you use when making your character. These are probably going to expand on core elements of the character options (class or playbook abilities, etc).

Again, the key point is potential and aspiration. To make you think about the future of the character.

I think, ideally, a game is intrinsically rewarding to play. You play it because its fun, not to get some sort of external reward. Play to play. But it also can be fun to put some carrots on the stick.\

As a treat.

Inviting Sandbox

The setting and premise of the game needs to invite players in. It's the big fancy dollhouse for all your cool toys. There needs to be space to play in it, but also there needs to be something to still play in! Some games are operating at an advantage: with well established settings that have been around for years and/or using a setting that utilizes tropes and ideas that also have been established for years. You know. Elves and stuff.

But! You absolutely do not need a well established setting or play with well established tropes to make an inviting sandbox! The main criteria is that it is inviting. Whatever that means to you, go for it. For me, an inviting setting, one that would make me want to play around in, needs;

Enough foundation to guide the play. What are the major players and assumptions of the settings? Give me the overview and broad strokes first!

Enough space for the table to add to while they play in. If every thing is set in stone, then what are we playing in this sandbox for? You need some sand to sculpt! Put some sand in your sandbox!

I could spend a lot more time talking about settings, sandboxes, and how it all circles back to anti-canon, but that's a story for another post.

Mixing It All Together

So, with those ingredients identified, how do you go about layering them all together? How should they interact with each other? And the easy answer is "I don't know, figure it out."

But also, I don't entirely know. You gotta figure that out for yourself. That's part of the design process. I don't think there's one singular way to "design" around getting people to have fun whipping together some cool OCs and then playing around with them together. In many senses, you can do that in practically any game. But for some of my current projects, I want to try keeping the three ingredients in mind as I write the games (particularly Furry Crime Game), and see what happens. Maybe it'll end up hitting the notes I want it to - crafting a game that makes the players constantly rotate their cool little guys in their mind - maybe it'll end up being something else. I dunno, real Ms. Frizzle hours: Get messy, make mistakes.

Also, as I'm writing this out now, I think a potential fourth ingredient to try mixing into the stew is Player Investment. Time, creativity, emotional. It all feeds into the character and different games expect different levels of investment. Something to probably keep in mind while you hone your game.

I don't know how else to end this, except to say that I'm excited to experiment in this space. Maybe you are too?