#mildly religious symbolism

[teaandfics]

Did somebody say yearning? Guilt and shame? Soriku? Created with a hint of religious trauma?

Well…

Probably not, but here’s this anyways.

This is made from Riku’s perspective. He sees Sora as a someone good and to guard, and himself as someone who has done wrong and must continue to serve Sora.

After DDD, he’s at least forgiven himself to an extent. But he still feels responsible for not saving Sora after the War, and he feels a certain weakness for not doing more.

My favorite detail that I made was that Riku wants to touch Sora but won’t. It’s Sora who touches his face and goes out of his way to stain himself. Riku yearns for Sora, yet he simultaneously can’t accept that he has him.

[xxacidrain39xx]

GUYS I OFFICIALLY HAD SOMEONE HAVE BEEF WITH ME ON OINTEREST😭😭😭 I CANT EVEN BE MAD I JUST THINK ITS FUNNK AS FUCK

[comikbook]

I’m not familiar with schizophrenia, I’m mildly familiar with religion, and I have no idea what the connection between either of those and organs (viscera? Mutilation? I’m not sure what to call it exactly) is.

Is there anything I could look into, to understand your pieces better in regard to that?

its a bit hard to explain but ill try !

the first one is simple, schizophrenia and religion are extremely linked at times. many schizophrenics have an intense fixation on religion.

as far as in my work, especially with gore the way i think about it is…hmm

i have a lot of intrusive thoughts. quite violent. and have since a young age. when i was little i thought it was god telling me to do these things.

i also experience tactile hallucinations, which are ones you feel. im often convinced i feel my organs inside of me, or feel my blood running thru my veins, things like that.

i have always been scared of flesh, i hate real gore, i hate medical stuff, i hate thinking about what im made of.

it scares me, so i draw it !

theres also the link between the divine and flesh. people get so wrapped up in religious figures as figures, not people. people who are flesh and blood. just like any of us ya know ? drawing them as such makes me feel more connected to them. people think i hate religion, but thats not true.

i guess tldr: i draw what im scared of, i draw my fears and my inner thoughts i cant control, i like to discuss subjects of mortality, i like to take the symbolic flesh eating and blood drinking of catholicism literally to portray a story, and i just in general enjoy drawing horror. its many things !

[xxcrystalinerose]

Next up in the Sabzerus designs: Tighnari and Cyno!

I know this is unrendered, but I already committed to not rendering these two until I finish Haitham and Kaveh's designs which, in hindsight, is difficult atm because I have more ideas about Collei's design over them. With the recent release of Sethos, it seems that it would have to wait until I finish his and Collei's designs when I get to them. I'm writing a fic now lol so it the wait is probably quite long.

Tighnari's is relatively easy and I'm so pleased with the results! He finally looks put together and not... odd, palette-wise (to put it mildly). His clothing is based on the traditional dress of the Kabyle people, an Amazigh ethnic group from northern Algeria, with some modernized touches (I used references from modern-day photos of Kabyle dress!). The highlight is the burnous (hooded cloak), originally a symbol of resistance in the Algerian War of Independence and now a garment worn in special occasions such as religious festivals. I think it would be appropriate of Tighnari to wear one for his Sabzerus dress.

Cyno is so far the most difficult one to design. I have 0 references outside of speculative fashion plates and museum pictures of jewelry. I struggled so much with the outfit components, but I persevered and this is the result. His clothing is based on what Ancient Egyptian high priests of the New Kingdom wear. The long shendyt (kilt) and shawl are made from linen, which in higher social classes are woven so finely they appear as though transparent. Not just luxurious, but also airy for comfort against the desert heat.

Previously on: Nahida + Wanderer | Nilou

As usual, close-ups and some more thoughts under the cut:

Tighnari's canon design is incredibly confusing to me, because unlike some other Sumeru characters I have absolutely no idea which part of Algerian (or Arab, but that's a very wide ballpark) dress it's supposed to be based on. Where is that white fabric wrap even from? However, when I looked at his hoodie, I realized that it's probably supposed to be a "modernized equivalent" of a burnous. Probably.

The belt accessory is actually an article I always see on women's robe kabyle, but never men's. I think they look neat and Tighnari wears belt accessories, so I incorporated them. (If any of you seeing this are Kabyle or Amazigh, do tell me more of the nuances. Are they exclusively feminine accessories? I also read that Kabyle women tie their sashes differently depending on marital status, but does this only apply to sashes or does it also apply to these cord belts?)

It's not very obvious, but the burnous has a split back, so Tighnari's tail can poke out comfortably. It's also pretty fun to try and incorporate elements of his official design, such as the paw-print gloves, the boots, and the turtleneck. To me, Tighnari without a turtleneck is unimaginable for some reason.

I've been tentatively calling Cyno's design "the one time Cyno puts some effort into doing his hair". The little braids aside, his hair is actually in a half-up bun. I really should draw these refs from more angles... and this is unimportant in the grand scope of things, but I gave him some beef. My guy deserves more beef (and I apologize for covering his chest regardless).

The wesekh (wide collar) is made from gold and various precious gems/minerals. This one has gold, carnelian, and turquoise. The narrow golden beads on the outermost layer represents beetles, which in turn symbolize resurrection (i.e. Hermanubis' indwelling within Cyno).

I've always been baffled at the fact that Cyno wears mostly black, but would prefer for my design to contain elements from his actual design, so I kept the sash and helmet black. However, I do know that too much dyed linen (and animal fibers) are inappropriate to wear in temples. Unless you are a funeral priest, where you wear a leopard skin as a part of the rites. Then again, Cyno's biggest inspiration is Anubis, so perhaps he could get some leeway here...

To continue with the flower theming, I chose the Sumeru Rose for Cyno and Tighnari wears the yellow flower on his canon clothes once again. It's never mentioned in game, but I'd like to think the Sumeru Rose is among the national flowers of Sumeru along with the Padisarah, so it's appropriate for the General Mahamatra to wear it.

Lastly, I gave them matching double piercings. Tighnari wears them on his right ear (as per his canon design), and Cyno on his left. Another matching set :)

[hostilecandle]

This Truth Is So Well Fixed

Pairing: John Price X M! Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Gentleman Price and Male Reader in a Regency AU

Tags/Warnings: Mildly Suggestive, Age Gap, Light Angst, Time Period Accurate Internalized Homophobia, Miscommunication, VERY light religious symbolism/imagery (mentioned like once), Fluff

A/N: I wrote this with the reader being in his Mid 20s while Price is a little older than his reboot version and its in his Early to Mid 40s. Cross posted to my Ao3 Here. Fic below the cut! Enjoy <3

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” -Jane Austen

It’s late, no one knows you’re out here. You shouldn't be out here. The stars shine overhead and the whisper of the wind whisking through the trees sends a chill down your spine. You should be in bed, resting like the rest of the world. But your home itself haunts you, every time you step foot inside you think of your last encounter with the gentleman Mr. Price. A tall, wealthy, handsome man and friend of your late father’s.

You’ve known Mr. Price since you were quite young, a consistent presence in your life as you grew from a boy into the man you are today. A steady figure that has helped you navigate all this callous world has to offer. You’ve always held a great admiration for the man, he had an air of strength and dignity that rivaled no other. It was intoxicating to be around, to stand in his presence as he commands the attention of a room as naturally as breathing. Mr. Price had never married in his youth and while the notion had always intrigued you, you pushed the thought from your mind long ago out of respect for the man’s privacy. 

That respect and admiration you held for the older man had shifted over the years into something you’d never speak aloud. That didn't stop the thoughts that ran wild whenever he came near. Every visit was something you cherished, you coveted every gruff word spoken between you two, and replayed every brief touch made in passing.

Long past have the days of boyish naivety and now that admiration has turned into a man’s wanting. In the aftermath of those visits, the sound of his voice keeps you company in the lonely dark of your bedroom. In your privacy, you hold yourself in a firm grip as you imagine those hands that gripped your shoulder in the midst of laughter to be the very hands that touch you now. And when you are finished, you sit in your shame promising every time will be the last. And then like clockwork, Mr. Price will call for a visit and the cycle repeats.

For years this has been how it has worked. But a fortnight ago the two of you had shared a night of spirits and laughter. However, as the night wore on and the conversation shifted to more deep and intimate topics, the prospect of you marrying soon came about. Now, you have not set eyes upon any woman, too busy looking at the man across from you for several years. But you're aware what is expected of you, and naturally you looked to the older man for guidance.

Mr. Price seemed to have stiffened at the topic, looking off to the side, avoiding eye contact. Something that is very unusual for him. With the courage of alcohol and familiarity running through your veins, you confess you've never met a woman who has caught your eye. This catches his attention and he turns back to face you, this time making direct eye contact with you as you speak. Feeling anxious under his gaze you stand to pace the room, his eyes following you as you continue to air your fears of finding a lady suited to you. At some point he rises as well, coming to stand behind you, a solid presence at your back.

He places a firm and steady hand on your shoulder and you relax in the familiar gesture. After a moment of silence, his grip tightens and he turns you around before 

Gently pushing you against the wall to your back. He steps into your space, a leg pressed between yours and he looks into your eyes before glancing down at your lips. Your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest, you have spent years imagining this, and now here it is and you find yourself at a loss for words. 

He dips his head down and you lean in, smelling the scent of tobacco and the drinks you've shared tonight. He looks back at your eyes one last time before closing the distance. You can't help the small groan that escapes your lips and in return feel his hand grip the side of your neck and face like a man possessed. He kisses you like he’s dying of thirst and your lips are the only thing that can quench his ache. As the kiss deepens you roll your hips against the leg he’s had pinned between yours, and suddenly it all stops.

Price steps back, his eyes wide with horror. The coolness of the air in his absence raises bumps along your skin and you reach to pull him back, still confused as to why he disappeared. He takes another step back before turning sharply on his heel. Grabbing his jacket and hastily putting it on. 

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. If you’ll excuse me.” 

“Mr. Price wait-” you begin but he is already brushing past you and walking towards the front door. The sound of the door closing echoes down the hall and you can feel the dread seep into your bones at the finality of it. ‘What have I done?’

Shaking yourself from the memory, you find the night has grown colder still while you were lost in thought. Deciding enough is enough and clearly the night air isn't helping you clear your head any, you head back inside. After sneaking in quietly so as not to disturb anyone else in the residence, you begin to head towards your room.

Suddenly there comes a loud knock at the door, practically making you jump from your skin. Who could be calling so late at night? The knock sounds again and you rush back to the door before whoever it was woke everyone up and you’ll also have questions as to why you’re up so late. Opening the door, a tall man stood disheveled and shrouded in moonlight, hand raised as if to knock again. You’d know that silhouette anywhere, it's been haunting your mind for years. Once the shock wears off you begin to speak in a raised whisper.

“Mr. Price! What are you doing h-”

“John. Please, call me John.” He interrupts, uncharacteristically.

“John.” You whisper softly. “What are you doing here at this hour? People will most certainly talk. Come inside.”

You usher him inside and offer to take his jacket. Holding a finger to your lips, an indicator for silence, you motion for him to follow you to your private bedroom, away from any listening ears.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you, avoiding eye contact as you shut the door behind him.

Turning, you finally get a good look at him. He looks unkempt, bags under his eyes, and certainly not fit to be seen in any form of polite society and you begin to worry. Silence stretches between the two of you as he shifts his weight uncharacteristically from foot to foot. Deciding to break the silence first, “Mr. Price, what are you doing here? Is everything alright?”

He looks at you then and you remember his request at the door. “John.” You begin again and he snaps to attention as though you had burned him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

He opens his mouth to say something and then closes it. This happens several times before he seems to lose his nerve. “I’m sorry.” He croaks out. “This- this was a bad idea. I shouldn't have bothered you.”

You reach out and grab his arm before he can walk out the door again. “John… talk to me. Please. If it’s about the last time you were here, Im sorry-”

This time, it's him that turns to you, his eyes incredulous. “Now why are you apologizing? That should be me. I should be begging you not to tell anyone, practically groveling for betraying you in the way I have. I should offer you anything you’d like and walk away so you never see my face again. Why are you apologizing to me?” He sounds confused and wrecked and this time you join in the confusion reverting back to the comfort of formality. 

“Mr. Price, I thought you were simply giving me what I have desired for so long now. Offering yourself to comfort me as I have longed you would, and I am so sorry to have tempted you so.”

As you’re speaking he runs a hand through his hair and barks out a laugh, almost self deprecating, before he speaks again. “You? You think you have tempted me? I am almost twice your age and you truly believe that you have wronged me, regardless of the fact that I forced myself upon you while you were in a state of distress and have betrayed any trust you may have once had in me?”  

“I'm sorry, Mr. Price. I’m afraid I’m not understanding. Were you not acting on my poorly hidden desires?”

This seems to level him in some way. His shifting has stopped and now he stands, back straight with leveled shoulders as he stares into your eyes. “Your desires?” He whispers before taking a step forward. Confused, you take a step back and feel the hard plane of the door against you. Taking another step forward he asks, “Am I to understand that you have desires for me?” 

You look away as your face floods with embarrassment. He takes a final step, this time crowding against you, pressing you against the door to your back. “I'm sorry.” You whisper as shame flows through you.

He shushes you as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “You haunt me.” He leans in close, your faces are almost touching and he grabs your chin. Running his thumb along your bottom lip and feeling your breath tremble beneath his touch. He forces you to make eye contact as his lips graze against yours, the touch but a whisper.

"I want to hear your voice catch in ecstasy, my love. Wanna hear you moan in my ear the way you did when I first kissed you. In my dreams whimpers fall from your lips, wet and hot. I want to catch your breath in mine and devour your sounds. I want to hold them between my teeth. I’ve wanted you for the better of five years now. From the moment I realized you’d grown to become a man I haven't been able to breathe right around you."

You can't believe what you are hearing. It seems too good to be true. He leans back to look you in the eye, you can see the seriousness and truth in the words he speaks. He means every word he’s spoken. "Do you understand what I'm saying, my dear? What I'm asking, no, what I’m begging for? Can you hear the pleas that fall off my tongue for your ears alone? Will you allow me to satiate the hunger that burns within me for you? Will you let me have you?"

You find yourself nodding under his intensity, trapped between his arm by your head and the hand holding your face a small “Yes, please” falls from your lips before he’s kissing you breathless, stealing the air from your lungs. Once he's had his fill of your lips, his mouth travels the column of your throat, across your shoulders and down your arm kisses every inch of exposed skin he can find.. He grabs your wrist and pulls back the sleeve that covers it as he presses his devotion against your knuckles and across your fingers. You're leaning against the door, still caged in by his arm and out of breath, light headed from the feeling of all his attention on you by the time he flips your wrist over to press kisses to your palm.

He pauses his ministrations, breath hot against your hand as he looks back up at you. “Have you ever kissed someone's hands?” He asks. Have you felt your very breath echo against their palm? Traced your lips along fingers and felt every divot and ridge that makes it so explicitly them? There is something so sensual about one's mouth meeting another's hand, of bowing your head and offering yourself, don’t you think?” He moves his mouth down to your wrist, placing a soft kiss at your pulse point, feeling the racing beat against his lips.

“Have you experienced the euphoric rush of your teeth grazing against the veins in a wrist, life-force itself flowing millimeters beneath your teeth? The knowledge you could bite down and fill yourself with them? ” He lightly nips before soothing it with his tongue and you have to place your other hand against your mouth to muffle the sound that is aching to come out.

He releases your wrist and stands back upright, towering over you as you now lean against the door for support. He reaches a hand out to you to help you up, and you reach out to grab it, a bastardization of The Creation of Adam. You find yourself laughing as he pulls you up and leads you over to the bed.

This night began the start of years of love and strife. A constant battle for secrecy and peace from the prying eyes of society. Several years later, late at night, John asks why you put up with it. You could've had anything you wanted and still you chose him. It was simple you told him, you love him. You could tell this wasn't good enough to sate him so you grab his hand and lead him to the window. 

“We are made of love, John. We are made to love. To love deeply, love passionately. We are made to love so intently it hurts and and love so softly there's no sweeter experience on this Earth. We are created to fall in love John, just a little, with every single person we come across.”

He huffs a bit at that and you smile turning to him as you place a hand on his cheek, “After all, how can one not fall in love with a masterpiece, every one of us handcrafted and designed with the utmost care and patience. We desire love so we make our own gods to devote ourselves to and ask they adore us in return. We seek love in friends and family and strangers.” 

You look back out the window to the stars that fill the sky. “We seek love in the oceans and stars, pleading with them to love us back. Staring at their seemingly infinite vastness, begging them to bare themselves to us the way we do to them. It's the same way with you, John. I would have given anything because I love you.” 

He places a hand against your cheek and turns your head to face him again. He kisses you softly and then pulls you away from the window and back to bed. As you lay back down, he pulls you against him as he kisses the top of your head. “I love you too” He whispers and you smile before drifting off, happy and content in the life you built together.

[Dividers by the-aesthetic-shop and firefly-graphics]

[aesethewitch]

Personal Protection: Surviving the Holidays

I'm of the opinion that far too many people around this time of year are fucking around, and it's high time they get to the finding out part. With major holidays right around the corner, many of us will be facing relatives we'd rather not see, parties we'd rather not go to, and conversations we'd rather avoid or exit as soon as possible. Political spats, unwanted opinions, snide remarks -- I believe that what you give out, you ought to receive back.

So, obviously, let's do some magic about it.

There are three main components to my method:

The Bubble;

The Quills; and

The Shake

The Bubble

Exactly what it sounds like, "the bubble" is the outermost layer of protection around you. It's the barrier between you and the unpleasantness you're trying to keep out.

The bubble can be one item carried or worn (such as a hat, crystal, or charm), or it can be multiple. I usually spring for two items, one to absorb/recycle and one to bounce/return to sender.

Absorb:

I've got a relative who is, at their essence, a fucking downer. That would be fine if not for the fact that if they're having a bad time or are mildly uncomfortable, it's about to be everyone's problem. This kind of negativity is something to absorb, not bounce. Sending it back would only double their misery, and that's no good for anyone.

So, instead, I have a special charm that I make for occasions when I know they're going to be around. It consists of a little piece of sponge that's sat in salt for a while atop a transformative sigil. The sponge, once fully charged and ready, will absorb the negative energy and recycle it into more positive feelings.

This means that their negativity won't impact me at all, and I actively improve the atmosphere. Their bad attitude can't do anything if everyone around us is only getting good vibes. The charm is powered by the exchange of negative to positive energy, so it requires no charging. However, it's smart to discard the sponge once it's done its job.

Bounce:

But sometimes, somebody's got to face real consequences. There are some things I don't want to deal with at all. Like gross political opinions from my conservative, religious family members. Or questions about having children.

The idea of the bounce is to reflect things before they reach me. It's a sort of glamor spell that projects an aura of "don't bother." It essentially lets me be passed over for conversations I want to leave or avoid entirely by bouncing attention away from me.

Negative energy, bad vibes, whatever you want to call it -- the goal is to return it to where it's coming from. Someone who's being an asshole will feel like an asshole. If it works right, they'll stop talking altogether because they're so irritated with what they're saying. I've had aggressive, vocal relatives go completely silent because they were receiving their own rancid energy back to themselves instead of the attention they were hoping for.

For me, this spell takes the form of a charm on my keys. It's a form of an evil eye charm -- not the blue-eyed stare you most likely think of, but another symbol meant to distract attention from me to it. It's a little pewter casting of the fig sign, an old and obscene gesture. It works on malevolent spirits best, but it does a great job of repelling unfortunate people, too. It bounces their nonsense back to themselves, often causing confusion, which forces them to reconsider what they're saying.

Again, this lives on my keys, which live in a key bowl when they're not clipped to my pocket or belt loop. The key bowl has a multi-purpose charging setup for the keys, my wallet, and other assorted charms I might wear when I go out.

The Quills

Sometimes, things get past our main line of defenses. That's fine, it happens. But under these circumstances, it happens because someone has deliberately crossed a line. So now, they get the quills.

When I say "the quills," you should be picturing something like a porcupine. Adorable, yes, but fuck with it at your own risk. Those quills aren't just for show, and neither should yours be. This is your second line of defense, and it's where we turn to offense.

Accordingly, the quills aren't passive spells like the bubble. These require conscious activation and direction to give you maximum control over their output. You can make your quills passive, but I often find that baneful workings work best when you're specifically choosing to use them.

Yes, baneful, and let me be perfectly clear: The goal is to harm whoever's crossed the line. You're not just returning to sender. You're catching what they've thrown at you, lighting it on fire, and pitching it back at full force.

To that end, there are two approaches I typically take (and are you sensing a pattern? I like to do things in twos). One spell to sharpen the tongue and give as good as I've gotten, and one to induce the smallest of lingering curses on the target.

Sharpen

The whole point of the quills is to make yourself an inconvenient, difficult target. Part of being difficult to swallow is not going down easily. Often, the answer is to avoid the conversation or problem altogether, but it isn't always possible. Or satisfying.

Sometimes, you gotta take a bitch down.

For me, this charm needs to do two things. It should boost my confidence in standing my ground and add some oomph to my argument. I have a pin with a particular design on it charmed for this purpose. The needle operates as the quill for stabbing (the oomph), and the design provides the confidence. Anointed with my Fuck Off Oil and laid in a dish of salt, garlic, and red chili flakes, the pin becomes extra spicy and effective.

This one has to be recharged each time it's used. It always lives on the same jacket, but I'll anoint it regularly to keep it fresh. If I use the charm on someone, I'll take the pin off at the end of the night and set it in the spicy salt mixture.

Linger

By far one of the most effective methods for reducing nonsense from unpleasant people I interact with regularly is lingering consequences. When someone associates bad luck with interacting with you, even on a subconscious level, they tend to avoid you.

Consider this the "slow poison" on the quills. The goal isn't to ruin their life by any means (although, I suppose you could...). It's just to make yourself unpalatable on an instinctive level. Think of how poisonous frogs are brightly colored to display that they're, you know, deadly. That's what we're doing here.

I prefer to use something kind of dangerous. Something you can hold onto and point with is best, in my experience. I've used a broken piece of glass, a rusty nail or screw, and various thorns. Right now, I'm using one half of a rusty pair of old cooking shears. The handle broke, but the blades are still sharp as hell. Waste not, and all that.

Anoint whatever the sharp, dangerous thing is in an oil infused with herbs and spices of your choice (again, the Fuck Off Oil is a good example). Or, if you prefer, coat it in something like hot sauce, urine, rust, or other corrosive and unpleasant things. Once prepared, stow it in your bag. Or your glove box, if you drive, since this makes a nice on-the-go curse to cast at shitty drivers.

You don't need to pull it out for it to work, but if you can get to a safe, secluded space (like a bathroom), it can help you focus. When you're creating it, you should set up an activation word, phrase, or motion. I prefer a motion -- something like tapping wherever the object is, a swirling movement with my hand, and then pointing at the target.

The curse you place is up to you. I tend to go for something like feeling nauseous or getting a headache. The spell should draw a connection between them being nasty to you and the unpleasant feeling, whether overt or subconscious. They'll be more cautious and reluctant to be a dick to you afterwards.

The Shake

Like a dog. Get that shit off of yourself.

No matter how thorough you are, there are always gaps and particularly stubborn people getting into them. Something they say just sticks to you like a burr, sharp and irritating. Or depressing, maybe.

The idea behind the shake is literal. You're forcibly removing the heavy weight or annoying itch someone else has placed on you. The shake isn't necessarily an item like with the bubble and quills. It can be, but it doesn't have to be.

Essentially, the steps to the shake are:

Identify what feels bad

Shake that shit

Resume normal activities

Maybe it's the neurodivergent in me, but physical movement is incredibly soothing. Self-regulation tactics are essential for survival. Transforming that into a little spell ritual at the same time is just two birds with one stone.

When things get overwhelming or I can feel my bubble failing to keep everything out at once (such as if a fight breaks out or someone decides to go in depth about one of my triggers), I remove myself from the situation. That's the first step. Retreat to a safe place, whether that's outside, in my car, in the bathroom, or elsewhere that's quiet. The second step is to figure out where in my body the anxiety or bad feeling is sitting. Often, it's in my shoulders and hands, but sometimes it's elsewhere.

Step three is to fucking shake. Shake those hands, roll my shoulders, jump up and down. Whatever it takes. As I do, I'm forcibly dislodging everything unpleasant out of myself and into the open air. And because I've got the negativity-absorbing bubble, it'll take the bad feeling and repurpose it into something more positive. Then, once I'm better, I can go back.

Again, you don't need an object for this, but you can certainly create one. Options would be comforting items, fidget toys, or even something like a joint. Sometimes, you just gotta blow smoke about it. You know?

Fun fact, though: You could also carry a vessel to contain the Bad Feelings for later use instead of letting your bubble absorb them. This comes in handy for people who are particularly abusive... as an example of what you want them to experience under the force of a more involved cursing.

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[thissnackbitesback]

Okay so I have an idea for a fluffy Poly!Lost Boys x Reader Oneshot where whether or not Religious Objects work against vampires entirely depends on what Faith the vampire followed as a human. And yes I know thats a facet from Cassandra Clares Shadowhunters Universe (and perhaps others) but I would love to see it applied to The Lost Boys.

The basic rundown is as follows;

Y/n is a relatively new addition to the Lost Boys pack, having joined up after wandering into their territory (Which for the oneshot we'll say is the Boardwalk and Hudson's Bluff, as well as everything in between) already a full vampire, (If you want to impliment some kind of Fated Mates thing by all means go for it) which was maybe 6-8 months ago. Since then the boys have gotten to know their new packmate (or mate) by a fair amount, the only subject Y/n refuses to talk about is religion. Dwayne suspects some kind of religious trauma, and he's partially correct, but he's under the incorrect assumption that it hasn't been addressed or even acknowledged by Y/n.

Marko and Paul, on the other hand, decide to get a little sneaky, and David, genuinely curious himself, just lets them. Thus begin the subtle shenanigans.

The Terror Twins begin leaving seemingly random religious symbols around the cave, trying to see which ones would have a negative effect on Y/n, but Y/n either doesn't notice them or Marko (who I headcanon as a Jewish/Italian Immigrant because Alex Winter is Jewish. Also because I can 100% envision Marko PARKOURING over walls n' shit to evade Nazi Footsoldiers during the Holocaust and laughing while doing so simply to taunt them. Footnote; I stan the Italian Stallion. If you recognize that from Tumblr you are now my new best friend. No you don't get a choice, have a snack and take a seat) and Paul (who isn't Jewish and thus handled the Jewish Symbols because Marko cannot touch them or he risks burning/injuring himself) forgot to include objects accosiated with a particular religious faith or multiple thereof. Dwayne is off in the corner with this 'disappointed dad friend' aura about him directed towards Marko and Paul's less-than subtle shenanigans. David is (maybe) lounging in his wheelchair, but is watching Y/n just as closely, but leagues more subtly than Marko and Paul (as David is a smooth SOB and not a mildly unsophisticated chaos gremlin like Marko nor a rambunctious golden retriever like Paul.)

Eventually Y/n gets fed up with coming across random religious symbols and very lpudly asks what the hell is going on. Before showing immense amusement in some way at the response they get and confusing the four boys even further and divulging that they're an athiest.

The boys are all stunned, before realization sets in, that explains why Y/n is so good at ignoring religious symbols and can even set foot on Hallowed Ground. They're basically a "perfect predator". Prayer and Religious symbolism wont deter them in the slightest.

Y/n is visibly tense, waiting for the boys to either shun or belittle them for their lack of faith, and getting a vastly different response.

----end of rundown---

Basically its a Regilious Faith -or lack thereof- acceptance/comfort prompt.

If someone wants to make this into a FULLY FLESHED-OUT oneshot or even make it into a series of oneshots or a full story, by all means go right ahead all I ask is that you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE tag me in it.

If there are copyright issues preventing this then just ignore this entire prompt I guess.

[incesthemes]

For day 31 of @spnficrecfest's event! All-Time Favorites or Free Space

American Myth by candle_beck

As long as you have a car, you are free, and other lies my country taught me.

SamDean // Mature // No Warnings Apply // 11,524

Tags: First Time

My Notes: This fic literally changed my life. The Sam characterization in particular is so on-point and insane that it fundamentally altered how I interact with him as a character. Jesus Christ.

Camdon Inn by dragonspell

In the backwoods of Northern Michigan, Sam and Dean are on the trail of what they think might be the area's fabled 'Dog Man.' What they find instead in the small town of Silver Lake is a suspicious sheriff, a shady innkeeper, a closed mouth town and a lot more than they bargained for when the supposed overly large wolf that they were hunting starts hunting them back. And, much to Dean's horror, he can no longer seem to keep his hands off of Sam.

SamDean // Explicit // No Warnings Apply // 44,412

Tags: Dubious Consent, Something Made Them Do It

My Notes: I'm convinced this author lives inside my brain to make all of my dreams come true. I can't believe they wrote my favorite kind of trope, wrote it well, AND gave it a satisfying ending. This is the fic that convinced me Sam has been in love with Dean for as long as he could love. I also enjoyed the struggle Dean had with his repulsion toward pursuing an incestuous relationship; not my exact headcanon, but it's developed well and I enjoy the strange, needy ambiguity and dubcon of it all. The author has a tendency to skip over words, but while it's confusing enough to make note of, it's not so confusing that it hinders the reading.

watch you weigh your powers by according2thelore

“Is this…You couldn’t speak because I told you not to?” Sam asks. “Like Ansem?” Dean’s face twists, and he looks at Sam guiltily. “No, c’mon.” He scoffs, shifting so his legs slide away from Sam’s into the passenger footwell. Sam blinks at him. Sam then looks straight ahead, at the steering wheel, uncomprehendingly. Sam’s mind spins, unhinged from its moorings. He tries to think of every order he’s given Dean in the past six months. Hand me that. Scoot over. Shut up. Pass the remote. Go talk to the coroner. Turn it down. Kiss me.

SamDean // Explicit // No Warnings Apply // 8,266

Tags: Codependent Winchesters, Blow Jobs, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Season/Series 02, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Mildly Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Mild Breathplay

My Notes: Incredible fic that has made a home in my brain forever. The focus on Sam's emotions, the fear and guilt and horror of what he's been doing to Dean, really makes me feel insane.

[frollodeathscene]

(little excerpt about hellfire's lyricism from the essay on religion in media I wrote for class)

‎

But there are times when the secular world of modern music and the powerful tradition of religious music intertwine and create something, both removed from, and nonexistent without, the sacred.

Committed to their image as a clean, family-friendly media conglomerate, Disney has long put to rest its raunchier subject material. No more drinking, no more smoking, no more violence. Every movie is smoothed into an edgeless ball of mediocrity, devoid of anything deemed even mildly offensive, all in an attempt to appeal to every demographic possible. Every song is designed to be an earworm, and most don’t mean to convey anything but a desire to sell dolls and CDs.

Then, there was that one time where they adapted one of the most infamous pieces of gothic literature into a movie for children.

Walt Disney Studios’ take on The Hunchback of Notre Dame remains one of my favorites. For as much as people dislike its darkness and lack of child-friendly themes, for as many stories I’ve heard of parents pulling their children out of the theater during its initial release, I will never stop believing that it’s the best in Disney’s repertoire.

And, of course, what would The Hunchback of Notre Dame be without Hellfire?

Including its prelude and thematic opposite (Heaven’s Light, which I will not include in this essay as I fear the length already), Hellfire, at just five minutes and twenty two seconds, stands of one of the most memorable moments in musical history. It is, in my own opinion, the crowning jewel of the film and encapsulates every aspect of what makes Hunchback so controversially masterful.

There is no doubt that Hellfire- and the film as a whole- are indirect forms of religious expression. Devoid of the usual pandering and ingratiating aspects of Christian animated media, it not only succeeds in displaying the benevolent, hopeful side of religion, but excels in its evils as well.

As the dreamy, soft-edged melody of Heaven’s Light fades into the sound of church bells, the song is taken from a gentle allegory of love as paradise to the echoes of Latin chants against stone walls. Here, the hopefulness of Quasimodo’s ballad is sent through a hazy mist of prayers and resurfaces in a rising anxiety.

Claude Frollo (originally an archdeacon, but a judge in this particular version) begins his own song by beseeching Mary. To confront the holy virgin, the sinless mother of God herself, with his temptations, to turn to an immortal woman as an escape from one of flesh and blood. He denies, and then he bargains, and then he denies again. Frollo’s cognitive dissonance from the image of superiority he projects onto others versus his struggles with the moral inferiority he feels within himself, which have been building since the very first minutes of the film, reach their narrative peak here as he ultimately refuses himself capable of sin.

His obsession with his own damnation and his deflection of personal responsibility chase him throughout the song as he faces an imaginary court of hooded monks. The echoes of Latin- the language of Catholicism, as if the church itself is judging him- counteract every desperate claim he makes: “It’s not my fault // (mea culpa)”, which directly translates to “my fault”.

Even the symbolism of fire itself is a double-edged sword. In the context of Christianity, fire both represents pain, suffering in Hell- and cleansing, purification. Frollo’s own struggle with sin, as represented by fire, is complimented by a desire to purify himself of his lust by burning its source. In a literal and figurative sense, he weaponizes his own fear against others- he both resents AND wields the very thing that destroys him. After all, whether fire is hellish or purifying, it still burns.

The song closes with Frollo’s leitmotif, a chorus of “Kyrie Eleison”, an older Greek prayer that roughly translates to “Lord Have Mercy”, and he collapses.

Hellfire, fraught with heavy symbolism, intertwined with such a controversial character, not only represents Catholicism, but some of its darkest consequences as well. A pure revelation of the sacred through creation.

[dioslesbianwife]

first of all i want to say, I LOVE YOUR WORK!!! Can I get like a headcanon how the jofoes would react if their loved one (y/n) was a banshee or a human with the ability to make loud shireks/screeches? could you include santana pleasee <33 Tyy

TYSM! ^^ yess here you go- i hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting :p

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Dio

Initially finds your shrieking fascinating rather than alarming.

"Magnificent. Such a commanding presence- scream for me again."

Would probably encourage you to weaponize your ability, thinking it makes you an even more perfect partner.

The fact that you can send people running in terror appeals to his love for control and chaos.

Kars

Instantly intrigued by the sheer destructive potential of your screams.

“A most impressive adaptation for survival.”

Would analyze the frequency and mechanics behind your ability because he's that kind of nerd.

If anyone ever tries to harm you, he fully supports you unleashing your voice to level the playing field.

Esidisi

Shocked the first time you let out a shriek but quickly adapts.

"Quite impressive- you can make them bleed from the ears?"

Would hype you up afterward, treating it like a combat victory.

Gets competitive, wondering if his boiling blood rage could ever match the chaos of your screeches.

Wamuu

Takes your ability in stride, as he deeply respects strength in all forms.

"Your voice is your weapon, and it is a mighty one."

Would shield you from backlash if your shrieks accidentally harmed allies or civilians.

He’s a patient listener, even when your power gets chaotic.

Santana

Initially confused, tilting his head like a curious animal at your first banshee-like scream.

Once he understands it’s your ability, he thinks it’s practical.

"Efficient."

If anyone mocked or underestimated you, they wouldn’t last long with Santana backing you up.

Kira

Absolutely mortified the first time you shriek.

"Must you be so loud?"

He prefers a quiet and peacefulness so your ability is a challenge for him to accept.

Eventually acknowledges its usefulness but asks you to avoid using it near him unless absolutely necessary.

Diavolo

Hates the unpredictability of it.

"Tch... warn me next time."

However, if your scream can be weaponized in a fight, he’ll admit it’s impressive.

Paranoid about the possibility of you drawing too much attention to his operations.

Doppio

Flinches every time you shriek, looking nervous.

"Ah, Boss says that was impressive, I think..."

He's a bit jumpy but ultimately supportive.

Thinks it’s cool when you use your ability to protect him or scare off enemies.

Enrico Pucci

At first, he views it as disruptive, but then he reframes it in a religious context.

"Perhaps your voice is a divine gift, meant to be heard."

Would meditate on the symbolism of your ability and encourage you to see it as part of a higher purpose.

Funny Valentine

Keeps his composure even when your shrieks echo around him.

"A sound that demands respect."

Would appreciate how your ability can serve his interests if needed.

Protects you fiercely from anyone who reacts negatively to your power.

Diego Brando

Initially covers his ears, grimacing.

"Warn me next time, will you?!"

However, once he sees how effective your ability is in intimidating enemies, he starts to admire it.

Would boast about having such a powerful partner.

Tooru

Smirks the first time you shriek, completely unfazed.

"You're full of surprises, huh?"

Would be mildly amused by how your ability catches others off guard.

If anyone dared to criticize you, he’d be the first to defend you.

[glamourous-world]

Every once in a while I allow myself a single haterism and this months is that I get so fucking squicked by talks in pagan/wiccan spaces about worshiping/celebrating “phallic symbolism” and “the womb.” Maybe I’m just mildly sex repulsed but like why are people being so weird about bodies? Like idk maybe this extends to glorification of the body in general? Because I do get the fact that our bodies exist and function at all is very epic and miracle of life, but there’s is this uneasiness I start to feel when people start to describe them as divine. Like my body is my home, I live in there and do my best to take good care of it. But there is something that I can’t quite put my finger on that makes me sick at the idea of it being divine. Maybe it’s gender related, maybe it’s ace related, or even residual religious trauma/scrupulous ocd symptoms that I am inherently unclean.

But regardless I do wish people could just chill on the whole phallic womb topic because I don’t think body parts should be that big of a deal in addition to the weird borderline gender essentialism that it creates in the atmosphere

[homestuck-fanauthor-coalition]

@myusernameisstolen

You’re intoxicated when you meet her. (With what? Doesn’t matter.)  She’s gorgeous, unfairly, unearthly gorgeous as she dances in the hazy smoke of the club.

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:  F/F

Fandom: Homestuck

Relationships: The Handmaid (Homestuck)/Reader

Characters: The Handmaid (Homestuck), Female Reader - Character, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s)

Additional Tags: POV Second Person, Lesbian Sex, Troll Biology (Homestuck), Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Bulge Sucking (Homestuck), Tentabulges (Homestuck), Interspecies Sex, One Night Stands, Recreational Drug Use, Mildly Dubious Consent, Clubbing, Songfic, Companion Piece, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Fix-It of Sorts, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coitus Interruptus, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Blow Jobs, Tentacle Dick, Vaginal Sex, Altered Mental States, Alien Sex, Light Dom/sub, Bodily Fluids, Public Nudity, Making Out, Troll Genitalia (Homestuck)

An entrant in the Homestuck Fan Author Coalition's January 2025 Competition: Bard. 

[preblesboys]

Since it’s taking me like 10 million years to draw Preble’s Boys as animals, here’s the list that I’ll eventually get to.

The Man himself Edward Preble: Polar bear Isaac Hull: Otter (originally Winnie the Pooh for cuddly reasons) Jacob Jones: Barn owl (he gives me the Owl from Winnie the Pooh vibes; intelligent and friendly but dude is literally in his own world) Stephen Decatur: American Water Spaniel (the goodest boi in the whole damn American Navy!) William Bainbridge: Persian cat (pathetic wet cat syndrome) James Lawrence: Sacrificial lamb from the Chesapeake lmao! Isaac Chauncey: Beaver (He’s a builder) David Porter: Wolverine (bro just wants to fight somebody!) William Burrows: Porcupine (he’s a bit touchy….) Lewis Warrington: Mr. Peacock Man James Biddle: Mink (don’t touch his mink fur coat people!) Charles Stewart: Fennce fox (I thought he was a redhead this whole time but guess not? Also he’s a bit sly) Thomas Macdonough: Northern Cardinal (absolutely for religious reasons) Daniel Todd Patterson: Chipmunk (adorable and resourceful)

Major side characters under cut

John Rodgers: Wild cat (Edward Preble’s rival)

James Barron: White tailed deer (Stephen Decatur’s complicated Virginian acquaintance. Look up the scientific name)

Oliver Hazard Perry: Osprey (let’s face it, a cool bird of prey)

Samuel Evans: Fruit bat (don’t believe them when they say Evans was bat shit crazy)

Johnston Blakeley: Magpie (I originally thought he was a “Preble’s Boy” but found out he never served with Preble but with Rodgers.)

William M. Crane: You guessed it (Lewis Warrington’s mildly annoying brother in law. A Preble’s Boy but for a crane symbolizing good fortune, bro has the opposite of that.)

Washington Irving: Coyote (David Porter’s smart ass bestie)

Charles Morris: Iguana (not a cold blooded reptile; just observant and no nonsense)

Richard Somers: Poodle (there was puppy love once upon a time)

John and Robert Henley: Eagles solely for “The Eagles” joke (Don Henley) “Preble’s Boys” and Martha Washington’s nephews. *I’m convinced they knew Lewis Warrington since all three grew up in Williamsburg VA. HC all three attended William and Mary together but the brothers aren’t exactly friends with Warrington; more like coldly polite. Lewis Warrington had somewhat of a rough time growing up since his mother wasn’t married when she had him and the townspeople looked down on her even before him.*

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

The Throne of God

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/axIwKDe by S1nging_Y0u_S0ftly A god has no need for a hound. But the vessel comes with needs that were not anticipated with his return to Earth. In front of him lies a stray. Who begs for his hand and chain behind the eyes that curse him. A servant that wishes for an angel, but will learn to dream only of his new God. (Godstiel/Dean sacrilegious porn) Words: 2228, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Godstiel - Relationship Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religion Kink, Sexual Slavery, Omorashi, Dom/sub, Godstiel/Dean, Feminisation, Male Lactation, Vaginal Fingering, Piss Play, Nipple Play, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, Master/Pet, God/Servant, God As A Honorific, Inappropriate Use of the Bible (Abrahamic Religions), bible verses as dirty talk, Praise Kink, Lingerie, Mildly Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Degradation Kink read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/axIwKDe

[gracelesslady23]

JUST LEAVE A COMMENT FEST

(19-21 April)

This was so fun!!! It finally got me to focus on reading the wonderful fics on my tbr list that I've been desperate to read and comment on even if my brain was stupid and kept putting it off.

Thank you to @justleaveacommentfest for the inspo and organisation of the fest. I managed to make 16 comments which is not a lot but still (!!!). And a big thank you as always to all the fantastic authors for putting their work out there <3

Recs from the weekends' reading under the cut!

All The Animals He Could Be by FrillyPinkUmbrella (HP, 29K, E, Sirius/James)

Summary: "It was like just like looking into a fire, he thought, as he gazed into the one currently blazing in the Common Room. He knew that it provided consistent comfort and that it burned at the touch, yet nothing of what lived behind the flames. It was so bright it blotted out its own answers. James’ rule-breaking, not only of the obvious rules, but the unwritten, agreed-upon ones—none of that was new. But the nastiness was." In sum: Remus hates the idea of his friends trying to be Animagi, James is being strange, and Peter just wants to pass his OWLs. And Sirius is...turning into a dog. ___ An exploration of

where you belong by itsjamespotterr (HP, 1.2k, G, Sirius/James)

Summary: Sirius is finally moving into the boys' dorm room, where he belongs. Written in celebration of Trans Day of Visibility <3

"A kiss is the beginning of cannibalism." by camichats (HP, 255 words, T, Sirius/James)

Summary: Drinking from Sirius is the closest they can be, but James wants more.

Need you tonight by mycupofrum (HP, 1.6k, E, Sirius/James)

Summary: Not one to back down from a challenge, James closes his lips around his straw and sucks. The man merely raises his brow, but James knows he just gained the stranger's undivided attention.

The Sanctity of Sin by forest_death (HP, E, 2.5K, Sirius/James)

Tags: Alternate Universe, Priest Kink, Sexual Content, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Religion Kink, Religious Guilt, Religious Content

all you do is kill, love snakes, and lie by soopsiedaisies (HP, M, 4.7K WIP, Sirius/James/Lily, Tom/Harry)

Summary: [BREAKING] LOCAL DARK LORD STILL HAS NOSE TO PUNCH GODRIC’S HOLLOW - English Dark Lord ‘Lord Voldemort’ (54) may be high on egocentrism, but he gets one sobering reality-check. After Harry Potter (32) went on a trip in his favourite rocket ship, he promptly ended up getting slung through the space-and-time-continuum; this curious happenstance ensured that his father, James Potter (21), got away from a murder attempt with no more than some mildly bruised ribs.

Sometimes I got to get away by plecotusauritus (HP, M, 1.4K, Gen Sirius-centric)

Summary: They leave while it’s still dark and cold. Those are the best hours of the day - before sunrise brings the smothering heat of August, and before everyone else has gotten up. Just the two of them, a quiet world, and open roads.

it's getting hard to be someone (but it all works out) by soopsiedaisies (HP, T, 37K WIP, Gen eventual S/J)

Summary: James dies. Or he doesn't. Either way, being legally dead but not actually dead is kind of a hassle, getting his best friend out of jail is as well, and let's not even talk about the difficulty of preventing multiple murders by controlling his temper. Also, his Cloak is acting really weird...

[penny-the-pissed-poltergeist]

RWBY Volume 4 episode 8: A much needed talk rewatch thoughts. RWDE/Critical opinions ahead, you have been warned!

.I really don't think they needed to make this scene like this, just have like, one line showing they know everything we know and have any other lines be focused on showing the perspectives of RNJR.

.I should be saying more probably, but these exposition scenes are boring as sin, Jaune being the only character who remembered to have opinions is not helping.

."Not many people are super religious these days" That's.. not really a segue at all actually.

.Qrow explains the brother gods backstories here but I'm not going to god the depth on them because my thoughts are mostly on stuff we learn about them later and I'd rather talk about that when we get to it.

.Kinda interesting how Grimm predate humans, were they just going around eating every kinda animal and pulling plants out of the ground or something?

.So we have creation and destruction covered, and the "god of choice" is probably the tree/blacksmith. So how likely is a god of choice reveal in the future?

."But what does that have to do with us" He just told you a warped version of the secrets of the universe Ren.

.When Qrow talks about the relics, one of symbols used to represent them is warping and casting of dark lightning. That might mean something in the future... or not, who knows with this show.

.Yeah Oz, you should totally put child soldiers to guard artifacts they don't know exist.

.And now back to Blake

."That boy you brought home loves to run his mouth" Oh she's definitely fucking that barely legal teenager... You know this joke wouldn't be nearly as popular if the genders were flipped.

.The animation really takes a dip in the Ghira & Blake talk.

.Ow Blake hates herself

.Ugh people say Ghira isn't 100% supposed to be in the right about the WF and violence but they literally have a main character say it so IDK. Ghira does say some actually kinda wise words here but I've heard those words in lot of other places too so whatever.

.I forgot about Sun being the worlds least funny man this volume. Also what kinda bitchass door falls out of the frame by one guy leaning on it? Can't the Belladona's afford not shitty doors?

.Oh they think Lionheart has any amount of his shit together, does he know? Also they kinda did plan out that attack overnight, or at least big parts of it.

.Aw Qrow trusts Ozpin so much, sure hope nothing shatters that into a million pieces later. :)

.Aw Oz trusts the headmasters so much, sure hope none of them become antagonists later. :)

."My semblance isn't like most" how the fuck do you define "most" when talking about powers that are always unique to the user?

.So do passive semblances drain aura constantly or what? Do semblances need aura? They've never been clear on that.

."I guess you could call me a bad luck charm" AH HE SAID IT, HE SAID IT! Wait did Ruby already know about this or what?

.Jaune stop being an ass. Jaune is the kind of person who'd get mad at a disabled person for mildly inconveniencing him, because bad luck is kinda a super natural disability when you think about it.

.Raven is a fucking weirdo, and Qrow is not ready to talk about that shit.

.Abuse, laugh. "It was an animation error" RT just said that to save face and you know it! And no, Blake's VA saying it's fine because "Blake was going through a lot" just proves Blakes VA sucks as person. (Anyone who's heard her weird comments on Billie Eilish already knows that but still)

.Blake you literally went "Who says I'm done fighting" in like, the last episode you were in. I know she's in a bad headspace, but that doesn't make it any more fun to watch.

.Wait, ilia has camo... Why didn't she use it here?

.I like RNJR's team colored sleeping bags. Also Jaune why are you sleeping in your armor?

.Qrow just being so nonchalant about possibly deadly poison lol. Also I think his blood is turning purple because there can't have been that much poison from one graze right?

I've realized that these posts kinda just end... Should I start doing ratings at the end or something? Let me know.