#prepare for typos

[chickenoptyrx]

*sittin up projecting onto the baby blorbo when I should be sleeping*

[crime-soncloud]

Hello! I am @fuckyouinparticuloar And I’ve selected you to be my victim for the next week or so.  What does that mean you might ask? Well as you might guess from my blog title. I will make fun of you and exclusively you. If you say yes I will add you to my wheel of PAIN and if it lands on you then Be prepared. Muhahahaha. (If you don’t want to be made fun of then just say that and you won’t be in the wheel) )You can also send me to mutuals or just random people if you want)

Hell yeah! I'd love to be added to the wheel!

[lostinvasileios]

Hello to all ⭒ Welcome to my bee-arc-hive. 💛

My name is Vasileios, but some nicknames of mine are: Vasil, Elios, Silo, & Vrincey.

I am a transgender male, I go by he/him &/or them/they, and I am on the AroAce spectrum/under its umbrella. I am also colored + neurodivergent.

I practice witchcraft and believe religiously in pantheism + polytheism. I work with ranging pantheons, including angelics and infernals.

My craft is a potion mixture of many things, and I mainly enjoy to simply go with whatever makes me feel the happiest and safest within. To put some sort of label on it, you could consider me eclectic, someone who works with chaos magic(k), and syncretic. I also can be considered an astrological witch!

I am closest to the deities: King Asmodeus, Prince Apollon, Mother Hekate, Highness Aphrodite/Aphroditos, Grand Duke Dionysus, King Yeshua, Lord Hypnos, King Loki, Noblewoman Psyche, Lord Eros, Lord Satanas, King Lucifer, Prince Archangel Micheal, Madame Pelé, and Rooster Hermes. With the honorable mentions of my spirit guide, Xinoth, and my higher self in all of their fluidity and infinite forms.

I occasionally work with archangels Uriel, Chamuel, and Jophiel. Gods of the planets Venus, Mars, Sun, and Moon. With some unnamed other entities.

Asks and messages are open for anyone as long as you are respectful, kind, and in general a more-so decent person. I am always looking forward to conversations about spirituality, crafts, or anything in between.

I do not condone any sort of discrimination, this is in no way a safe place for:

Anti-LGBTQIA+

Racist/Xenophobia

Proselytizing

Any sort of pedophilia

Religious discrimination

Ableism

I do not know every single thing down to its very detail, but I am more than happy to help any beginners, &/or indulge in conversations about (mostly) any spiritual/divine topics.

My blog is not fandom related. Deities, entities, spirituality and so on are major, realistic factors of my life.

Where I got my dividers: @saradika

This page is mainly for E-Offerings to my deities, sharing UPG, and hopefully to help someone in need.

[diegogtratty]

How big is Polly compared to a Tyrannosaurus rex?

E N O U G H .

[narwhalandchill]

guys im finally home from campus cant wait to find out if hoyo killed off aventurine on my birthday :DD

[kedicatt-cotl]

Hey there, Kedi, I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering that since Narinder a lot about death since he was previously the god of death, does he help the bereaved cope with their losses when someone dies? And does he even teach followers about death and maybe even help kids as well to learn how to cope with grief?

Actually, no, he doesn't do any of that.

Narinder's relationship with the whole topic of death is just... complicated.

You could think that that's because he feels bad for having Lamb kill his siblings earlier. Or maybe, because of the revival experiments that he used to do on his followers while he still had his own cult. He didn't directly kill anyone in those, no, but the failed experiments could be seen as cruel - some of the first text subjects were through severe pain after being revived.

But no, it's not that.

The thing is, after everything that's happened, and after talking to Baabaa about it, Narinder realized clear as day just how much his opinion on death does not match with the way other people see it.

To Lamb and the people in the cult, a follower's death is a small tragedy. Awaited and accepted, but still a tragedy of a sort.

To Nardiner, a god who is practically immortal, a follower's death is something natural, something that happens all the time. Mortals die pretty often, often enough to not make it a big deal. He's been living for too long, too far from making any kinds of connections with the mortals, and he has little to no sympathy for the bereaved.

Actually, this is something all the Crown siblings have in common. Leshy may be the only one that still cared about his followers dying.

So, when the topic is death, Narinder willingly steps aside, letting Lamb be the one to handle it. He does not feel remorse or regret, he doesn't feel guilt for his doings. He likes to be right, but he is also smart enough to realize that what he's done in past was a bad thing, and to acknowledge that his view on death is just not what people need.

Narinder was the God of Death that managed to stop death. He stidued it back and forth, and he knows how it works.

Lamb is the God of Death that experienced death for himself - in every way possible. He knows how death feels.

So, if anyone is to speak of death, it should be Lamb. He is the expert.

[svnflowermoon]

C'MON C'MON DON'T LEAVS ME LIKE THOS I THOUGHT I HAD YOU FIGURED OUT

[bahoreal]

its actually ok that im watching yi city this time cause i know that theres a 28k post canon fixit already out there tailored exactly to what i want to see that i can read immediately afterwards

[p4nishers]

i know some people already pointed it out but like. eddie was in black. BLACK. he was in LITERAL MOURNING CLOTHES. he was already mourning. already prepared for the worst.

[cursivebloodlines]

011. in the dining room building a home: a gingerbread home! decorate the home and make it one fit for a little gingerbread man. - lydia!

🌙 * ― 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ( a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both!) | @overnightheartbeats

011. in the dining room building a home: a gingerbread home! decorate the home and make it one fit for a little gingerbread man.

The first – and last – time Lydia attempted to build a gingerbread house, it had been a catastrophe. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong: the house itself crumbling, pieces not staying together, icing smudged the whole thing and the candy pieces of decoration fell off. Honestly? It had looked like the wolf from the Three Little Pigs story huffed and puffed and blew the silly, little gingerbread house down. It was all so completely unlike Lydia, someone notorious for her perfectionistic ways and meticulous precision. The hours she spent dedicated to it and nothing to show for it. A complete waste of time. And so, she vowed she would never ever waste her time trying to make one again. Never. Ever.

That was… until Aaron suggested trying to build one. Lydia’s face must have said it all, her nose scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed. “Why on earth would I want to waste time doing that when you can buy one that already looks nice enough from the store?” she questioned, a not-so-subtle ploy of trying to wriggle her way out of it. Aaron had gave her a look that said, really? She wondered what else was running through his mind. Maybe something along the lines of, since when does Lydia turn down a challenge? In that moment, she knew there was no way she was escaping it. Even a small smile threatened to worm its way on to her lips. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He’d said. She looked at him blankly, eyes going distant as she spoke, deadpanned, “The worst thing that can happen?” A dramatic pause. “I’ll show you.” With that, she cleared her throat, picked up her phone and scrolled through until she found the photo from a good few years ago. Without saying anything else, she passed her phone to Aaron, feeling quite triumphant with herself about being determined, not going through that ordeal ever again. Her gaze fixated on him as she watched his reaction, watched as his expression swiftly changed from being puzzled, to curious and morphed into amusement. Brows arched, Lydia mirrored his face, her hands on her hips as she demanded, “What’s so funny?” Trying to conceal the laughter in her voice as she quickly cleared her throat. But she couldn’t keep a straight face for long. The sound of his laugh was contagious, his smile so wonderful and infectious. Even if she had a severe case of Resting Bitch Face, she couldn’t stop herself from cracking. So, now they were both just laughing. 

In the end, he managed to persuade her to take another shot at building a gingerbread house. “The way I see it…it can only go up from here.” Or something along those lines. Some variations of it can’t get any worse. Earning a playful roll of her eyes, but in the end, she conceded. She’d already lost some of her pride and dignity the moment she showed him her poor first attempt. But at least if this one sucked, then they would suck together. But weren’t two heads supposed to be better than one? If it had been with anyone else, she may have disagreed. Having someone under her feet whilst she was trying to concentrate on achieving perfection? Lydia would’ve ushered them away and not-so-politely told them to go away. But nope, he was persistent. They were definitely doing this.

A quick trip to the store to get everything they need, and more just because they may as well since they’re there… and there they were, diving straight into it. Lydia read out the instructions from the recipe she found on Pinterest after tons and tons of scrolling, and they took it in turns to do all that was needed to do. Getting the things out as and when they needed, she was surprised how comfortable and easy it was to adjust, shuffling around each other. It was amazing how he fit in perfectly with her. No awkwardness, no Lydia getting frustrated because something was out of place or not done to her standards - a shocker. It was all very new to her but it didn’t feel new. It was like they’d been doing this forever. Shuffling around, arms occasionally brushing against each other, smiles on their faces all around. Christmas songs faintly played from the stereo, humming along as they made the dough; humming turned into singing as they waited for the gingerbread to break, happily setting up the dining room ready for decorating. She playfully swatted Aaron’s hand when she realised he was slipping the candies meant for decorating their work-in-progress gingerbread house in for a little treat. “Enough of that, we won’t have any for the -” Until he was the one plopping a gumdrop into her mouth - she wasn’t complaining then. Another laugh tumbled from her lips as she chewed it, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently before the timer on her phone beeped. They were ready!

“Now… now is make or break,” Lydia declared when the gingerbread finally cooled. Everything already set out, ready for them to dive straight in. First, to assemble the house. Her mind cast back to her first attempt, how disastrous the whole thing went. It will be better this time. Had to be. The aroma of cinnamon and ginger filled the cosy, festive-filled atmosphere, every inhale made it all the more tempting to just give it all up and dive right in to gobbling it all up. It was like she was waiting with bated breath, any moment it could crumble and fall apart. But Aaron’s extra pair of hands made it all worthwhile. He would help her assemble the little house piece by piece, holding things in place as she brought the next part out. So far, so good. It was like they had all the time in the world, every piece fitting together felt like a gigantic milestone worth celebrating. And at some stage, Lydia definitely cracked out the bottle of wine as incentive to keep them going.

In the end, it was all worth it. She hated to admit defeat but Aaron was right; it did only go up from there. Though, the bar was pretty low to begin with. And sure, maybe it wasn’t her ideal version of perfection but the time spent with him absolutely was. Lydia placed the final piece, the marshmallow snowman outside the newly built gingerbread house before leaning back against him with a content sigh. “We did it. I can’t believe we actually did it.” A beaming smile on her face as she tilted her head to look at him adoringly, before looking right back at their little creation before them. The walls of the house were slightly uneven, a few cracks in the icing revealed glimpses of golden-brown gingerbread underneath, gumdrop windows a little askew, and licorice shingles overlapped on the roof. These imperfections which, any other time would have had Lydia fuming and threatening to smash the whole thing over the kitchen counter, were the magic and beauty of it. Perfectly imperfect. It was magical because it was theirs. It was something they built together, and it was what they had to show for it. A funky yet whimsical-looking gingerbread house. Feeling him nudge her with his elbow, a grin curved Aaron’s face as he passed her something, a brief flicker of confusion etched on to her face as she lowered her gaze to her hands, a laugh leaving her as her fingers traced the ridges of the gingerbread man - or should she say woman? - before her. “Is this supposed to be me? Wow. Impressive. And, that’s funny, actually, because…” Biting her lip to conceal a laugh or give away the reveal. She couldn’t get her head around the fact they had both been doing the same thing without the other knowing. Putting her gingerbread persona to the side, she picked up the version of Aaron she’d secretly made, laughter finally escaping as she passed it to him. “I swear I didn’t steal your idea! We just…clearly have great minds that think alike.” 

In that moment it was inevitable: this was going down as one of the best Christmases Lydia had in a long, long time.

[inbalanceofpower]

It has been weeks since she's been needed, or acknowledged— Tay wonders if that's her punishment. It's befitting of the crime. If she'd had a choice, she would have preferred a smack across the jaw. She might still get that yet, with the lack of attention she's paying. Though, it's much too late to rectify that mistake, because Dillan moves. She takes it as her cue that Klaus has finished addressing them, or rather him. Tay holds in her sigh, and turns.

Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow, I can try again. Tomorrow—

"You, stay."

She has taken one step compared to Dillan's several. But still he turns, only to confirm it wasn't a request for him. He hardly allows time for her mouthed, "me?" It goes ignored, and he leaves. And with her back to Klaus, she releases that sigh.

"Have you had time for reflection?"

No hint of malice, yet. She spins on her heels to face him, but maintains the short distance she'd put between them. Not confident enough to meet his eyes, she looks to the floor and offers a clear nod. Tay can feel him looking so she lifts her head, which is burning with shame. "Yes," she tries again, not devoid of a voice crack. Neither of them draw attention to it.

"And?"

"And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I know I already said, but I don't— I don't know what else to say to you."

"I'll need more than that."

"I fucked up," she adds, as an understatement. He already told her as much, not quite as colourfully. "And I'm sorry." It's much louder than her previous apologies, as though her volume dictates just how much he believes her. She can't justify telling him she doesn't regret it, and she can't expect him to accept it.

Thankfully, he doesn't insist further. Assuming she has disappointed him, yet again, Tay waits for a dismissal that doesn't come. It's the first time she manages to look at him. He doesn't seem angry, but she can't tell. Wouldn't be able to anyway, because she looks away as soon as he asks, "why did you do it?"

"I don't know... I already told you." And told him more than she intended to, even if most of it had been incomprehensible. Technically, he is one of the few people to know the ins and outs of her family history, or lack of one. She doesn't say so— she's doubtful flattery would get her anywhere.

"Tell me again."

"I told you."

Klaus leaves too long of a pause. It makes her nervous. She should have just told him again, and recounted every last detail. Clearer too, she might have been able to save her tears this time.

@imbalanceofpower: Too much love will kill you.

Quickly, he replaces that anxiety with something just as nagging. It wasn't love, she wants to protest. It was the furthest thing from it, she thinks. It was the lack of it. But even the absence still had everything to do with love— she loathes being so readable. Tay doesn't try to counter him.

"Will you?" she asks, quietly.

"Why would I?"

"I ruined everything. That's what you said," or essentially what he had said. She prefers not to relive the humiliation, but it's written on her features alongside the creases in her forehead. She thought he'd made that clear— she thought that, now, she was dead weight.

"A momentary inconvenience." Nonchalant, she realises. It stills her completely. "Do you mean that?" slips out in surprise.

Tay expects frustration, but not the closure of their gap. She watches him, more vigilant than usual, before meeting his eyes briefly. Her glance falls to his moving hand. She expects it wrapped around her throat. Instead, his touch is light and his fingers travel no further than beneath her chin. With it tipped up, he gives her a soft kiss. She doesn't chase it, but all of her doubts disappear. When she lifts her own hand, she leaves it on his chest. Her forefinger lightly scratches at the fabric of his t-shirt. "Okay," she agrees, with a faint smile. "I'll see you in the morning."

He doesn't loosen his grasp, and she doesn't pretend to care. After another pause, one which she minds half as much, he says, "stay." It sounds much softer. It also sounds like a demand. Still—

"Do you mean it?"

Klaus looks at her, and immediately, she feels guilty. She goes to calm it with a second kiss, but stops just short of his mouth. "Can I..." If he thinks it ridiculous, he doesn't say and obliges all the same. When she pulls away, she agrees, softly, "I'll stay." Without asking this time, she presses a third and final kiss to his lips before shrinking back to her height, "I think I need you to tell me everything you told Dillan, anyway." Her nose crinkles, playfully, "sorry."

[thislittlekumquat]

the thing about editing is that you need to know when to be done. you need to know when the returns have diminished.

[wernerherzogs]

the national going back to a more classic occasionally more striped sound from before I Am Easy To Find and Sleep Well Beast.... oh i'm Emo

[officialjanetweiss]

I was told a few weeks ago someone else would be coming to stay at the airbnb this week. (I’ve had the whole place to myself up til now. The host went on vacation a few days after I checked in). The host said “her room is downstairs”. I wake up this morning and there’s a man in the kitchen?????

[kaguya-muneuji]

OOOO do you play any iantuemnte??

FUCK IM GONNA CRY THIS IS SO FUNNY

[salamancers]

finished reading network effect and i am

overwhelmed

filled with emotions

thinking about constructs and bots and

friendship *✧･ﾟ:*

it was a real rollercoaster ride of a book huh