#projecting my issues on them so that i feel less bad about it

[bisexualbrainrots]

I've been thinking about these two, and like, it intrigues me how the weight of their experiences and some core elements (most likely) added to the breakup.

Like, just from canon alone I see that Tommy carries some weight on his shoulders from the person he used to be and his journey regarding his sexuality. He did hurt others by engaging in bigoted behavior in the past (and changed, which is good!). He probably spent at least a decade in the closet, figuring who he was and suffered from a comphet that made him almost marry a woman. Plus he's been out for less than 10 years and (possibly) didn't feel comfortable enough with himself until he got a clean slate. And he probably didn't have support when he came out, but that's a headcanon. I think this made him project that onto Buck, even if he didn't mean to.

And Buck's journey is nothing like Tommy's (from what we've seen).

Buck definitely carries wounds regarding his self-worth, he is somebody who thinks he's both too much and not enough. He didn't grow up in a supportive household, and the only person who did support him left. His sexual awakening, from what we saw, was a very different experience than what he's used too. He had people with him, he was immediately supported and told it didn't change how others saw him. The weight of his sexuality looks to be light, there seems to be barely any struggle, unlike Tommy. And I think it made Buck underestimate how bad it probably was for Tommy before.

Adding to that, there are also other elements to them that led to this mess.

Buck is impulsive, acts without thinking and doesn't grasp the consequences of his actions until they blow up on his face. And Tommy seems to act on self-preservation, he guards himself from danger and pain and acts on it. And it plays against them.

I think Buck's self-worth issues hit hard when he learned about the engagement, but not for that in itself.

I remember he actually looked intrigued when Tommy said he almost married a woman, and it wasn't until he knew it was Abby that he was put off and spiraled (side note: I hate the way they decided to canonize the Abby theory). It was that idea that if Tommy hurt someone Buck loved, then who's to say he wouldn't do the same to him, someone's who's "too much"?

I also think Buck's impulsivity set off Tommy's self-preservation alarms. Add that the (possible) projection he put onto him and it's no wonder Tommy ran, because, if he has hurt people before then who's to say Evan wouldn't do the same one day? If Evan's pace is fast then who's to say the relationship won't be too?

It's just, ughh there's so many layers I could peel off from this but it's also very much a stretch in my head.

Anyways, thanks for reading this? I don't know if it made any sense but hey, it doesn't really need to.

[chaeyapper]

thinking about kaeya being insecure + anxious avoidant who would isolate a lot... and it doesn't make him feel better whenever childe would try and reassure him

in fact kaeya gets uncomfortable, feels like he's a burden to tarts (because no one has ever loved him that much before, and still believes that no one ever should.) the more childe loves him, the more that kaeya withdraws since he feels like he doesn't deserve that much.

then i'd like to think that childe is insecure in his own way too. he would be unnecessarily doing too much for kaeya, may it be spending too much money/time on him or doing whatever acts of service

he's only doing too much of those because it's what makes him feel worthy of kaeya's love. even when kaeya tells him that he doesn't need to do all that, childe can't sit still when he isn't doing anything for kaeya. at one point he'd be so obsessed in doing so much for kae, sacrificing his personal needs and making his life revolve around providing love for kaeya. tarts subconsciously believes that if he can't do anything for kaeya, he'd be useless.

making both of their issues clash — kaeya getting overwhelmed and feeling extremely guilty (?) whenever childe does too much for him. then childe getting scared that he might have not been doing enough for kaeya when kae withdraws / pushes him away.

eventually both of them would get lost in their relationship. kaeya wanting to leave because he thinks childe deserves someone that can appreciate him and the love he gives better, to be with someone who can accept and reciprocate it instead. childe not knowing what else to do because he's sure that he has done everything he could to love kaeya, maybe it was still not enough?

maybe not really a breakup, but they would go on for a few months not seeing each other.

kaeya drowning himself in alcohol, not wanting to think about their relationship. deep down, he believes that it was probably his fault for not knowing how to appreciate his partner. he wouldn’t have the guts to face childe and communicate cause he doesn't have anything to say except for how he still feels undeserving of him. kae's aware that he's acting like this because of how insecure he is, yet he doesn't know how to stop being insecure.

childe on the other hand, i think would turn emotionally numb instead of an emotional wreck. he's burnt out and tired from doing so much, only for everything to result in this? oh he would go sparring more often to release his frustration, spend an awfully huge amount of time trying to get better at fighting because it would make him feel good about himself. yet at the end of the day he still feels hollow and useless now that he's no longer with his usual "doing everything for kaeya" routine.

but ofc i know both of them will get that resolved and help each other. (i won't let it end without comfort nuh uh)

kae would one day learn to see himself the way childe sees him. that even with all of his flaws, it's alright and those aren’t reasons to automatically consider himself unlovable. be comfortable with the fact that accepting love doesn't make him shameless. yeah he'd still doubt himself all the time, but childe would remind him not to be so critical of himself. childe would allow kaeya to take his time and get used to receiving love, until he can do so without the need to feel guilty / undeserving of it.

with childe, it would be extremely hard for him not to overdo it whenever he wants to express his love or do something for kaeya. though i'm sure once he realizes that habit is due to how he needed the validation there is whenever he did something good for kaeya [ how he gains a temporary feeling of fulfillment whenever he got good reactions from kaeya, which were like a reward after doing something ] , he'll learn to resist the urge slowly. kaeya would reassure childe as well that he's enough without having to constantly offer anything grand. he'd even encourage tarts to enjoy doing other things that make him genuinely happy whithout it having to be about providing for / helping other people.

... i really like the idea that kaeya is very insecure and the entire thing about him acting confident is just a mask. and that mask he uses to run away from himself falls apart the closer he gets with childe. he can't really hide his true self with the one he loves most right? but because of it, his true insecure and avoidant tendencies would come out.

then about childe having savior complex or somethin... his loyalty and dedication when it comes to things and people he love is a very admirable thing. but going deeper, why does he actually have those traits? what if it's because deep down, he's just scared of letting people down? what if because of that fear, he would always burn himself out doing to much, trying to consistently prove he's reliable?

( i am a huge fan of ships that involve the two characters growing emotionally together, not only growing old physically !!! ) *sniffles* they make me sick

and so i wanted to maybe use their potential issues against each other /j

i wanted to test those and use their relationship as a reason for their issues to come out? but for the better because after it, they'll be more aware of their insecurities which would result in them fixing those and maturing asdfadsfada

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[relaxxattack]

i really liked these additional comments and thought they deserved to be in the post

every time i post about male favoritism in the fandom i feel like i need to wear a shirt that says "i am not trying to tell you that it is wrong to like davekat i literally also like davekat if you come away with the assumption that my message is to stop liking the boy ships in homestuck you are missing the overall point which is arguably more detrimental than never having interacted with what i was trying to say in the first place" flashback to that person in my inbox like "just admit that you don't like davekat it's pretty obvious based on your posts that you have a problem with it" do i need to draw them holding hands or something to get you guys to trust me and engage with what i'm saying. would it help if i also threw in a subway surfers clip

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

what’s the story about the generative power model and water consumption? /gen

There's this myth going around about generative AI consuming truly ridiculous amount of power and water. You'll see people say shit like "generating one image is like just pouring a whole cup of water out into the Sahara!" and bullshit like that, and it's just... not true. The actual truth is that supercomputers, which do a lot of stuff, use a lot of power, and at one point someone released an estimate of how much power some supercomputers were using and people went "oh, that supercomputer must only do AI! All generative AI uses this much power!" and then just... made shit up re: how making an image sucks up a huge chunk of the power grid or something. Which makes no sense because I'm given to understand that many of these models can run on your home computer. (I don't use them so I don't know the details, but I'm told by users that you can download them and generate images locally.) Using these models uses far less power than, say, online gaming. Or using Tumblr. But nobody ever talks about how evil those things are because of their power generation. I wonder why.

To be clear, I don't like generative AI. I'm sure it's got uses in research and stuff but on the consumer side, every effect I've seen of it is bad. Its implementation in products that I use has always made those products worse. The books it writes and flood the market with are incoherent nonsense at best and dangerous at worst (let's not forget that mushroom foraging guide). It's turned the usability of search engines from "rapidly declining, but still usable if you can get past the ads" into "almost one hundred per cent useless now, actually not worth the effort to de-bullshittify your search results", especially if you're looking for images. It's a tool for doing bullshit that people were already doing much easier and faster, thus massively increasing the amount of bullshit. The only consumer-useful uses I've seen of it as a consumer are niche art projects, usually projects that explore the limits of the tool itself like that one poetry book or the Infinite Art Machine; overall I'd say its impact at the Casual Random Person (me) level has been overwhelmingly negative. Also, the fact that so much AI turns out to be underpaid people in a warehouse in some country with no minimum wage and terrible labour protections is... not great. And the fact that it's often used as an excuse to try to find ways to underpay professionals ("you don't have to write it, just clean up what the AI came up with!") is also not great.

But there are real labour and product quality concerns with generative AI, and there's hysterical bullshit. And the whole "AI is magically destroying the planet via climate change but my four hour twitch streaming sesh isn't" thing is hysterical bullshit. The instant I see somebody make this stupid claim I put them in the same mental bucket as somebody complaining about AI not being "real art" -- a hatemobber hopping on the hype train of a new thing to hate and feel like an enlightened activist about when they haven't bothered to learn a fucking thing about the issue. And I just count my blessings that they fell in with this group instead of becoming a flat earther or something.

[ms-demeanor]

I hate to say that, but in defense of homeopathy:

A lot of medicine is value projection and/or placebo. We give kids sparkly bandaids on minor abrasions not to help the symptoms or risks of infection, but so that the kid feels cared for.

We sometimes take daily medication not because it helps or we think we need it, but because our grandma raves all about this new cure-all that fixed all her issues.

We overindulge in paracetamol and ibuprofen even in the cases it clearly doesn't work because we need to feel like we took something that will help.

Homeopathy that tries to replace standard treatment is evil. But there is value in having a readily available, socially valued, thing you take when feeling bad, that does absolutely nothing.

In the 20s they just did heroin instead, it wasn't better.

So there's this thing called informed consent that is kind of super duper important and the use of placebo to treat illness is a major violation of informed consent.

Everybody likes the gifset from the Birdcage with the Aspirin with the A and the S scraped off because it's cute and funny, but it's cute and funny in a movie; if a "medical professional" is giving you sugar pills because they don't actually know how to treat you and want to offer you comfort instead, they're saying "you're too fucking stupid to handle the fact that you're ill so I'm going to hold your hand for a moment and hope that makes you feel better."

Your attitude is both fatalistic and tremendously paternalistic, and people with complex illnesses and chronic pain deserve to be treated better than kids getting a sparkly bandaid and a pat on the head.

People overuse painkillers because they're in pain; NSAIDs have effects, even if they aren't treating the root cause of pain, and people often take them because even though they won't stop a spasm, they'll make it less painful for a few hours and if that's what you've got, that's what you take.

The huge, regular doses of ibuprofen I used to take to help my migraines when I didn't have health insurance didn't stop the migraines, but they made it so I could work. What DID help was getting medically diagnosed with celiac disease and no longer triggering my autoimmune disorder on a daily basis.

You know what wouldn't have helped? A sympathetic listener and a sugar pill. Or worse, yet another sympathetic listener telling me about some fucking lead-contaminated turmeric supplement that cured their granny's headaches.

Shit on the heroin cures all you want, they at least included a legitimate cough suppressant and had a mechanism of action more effective than a patronizing lecture about how we've all got to get on somehow, so we might as well pretend we feel better.

Fuck your shitty, shitty attitude. Sick people deserve better than you.

[cosmique-oddity]

Phew, my last weeks of work are now complete >:)

I loved Dratchet and Ratchlock since the very beginning of my attachment towards Transformers, first TFP Ratchet…..but yeah….two of my favorites character….plus Keferon’s Mech AU…..I had to make my own thing about it.

A story….no…an illustration ! I couldn’t choose. So I did both :}

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That was not the first time Ratchet came back to his private lab angry, but this time, yelling at his superiors, and at the system, and basically at evverything that could be yelled at except the pilotd while leaving the manufacture, was certainly the last. He quit. That was enough,

you don’t win a war with feelings they said

well yes,

exactly,

but you win a war with soldier, and frying their mind before they have their first fight because you want them to be more perfectionned ? That was a little counter productive.

So he gave up. They are on their own now.

The lightly humming of his car was barely enough to keep him awake, it have been a long time since he last returned home, usually, he stayed at his work place, to have more time to sleep, but then, he was sleeping even less. An endless vicious circle, things were often like that.

But all of that was over for him.

He granted these young greenhorn with his experience, and what did they do ? Ignored his advices. Sending pilots to death. So now, he had himself out of the infernal machinery. This mindless waste of human life, even where this is what they tried to save was absurd.

In the middle of his quiet and late ride, he heard a noise. Rumbling, was it the engine ? As he stopped the car backroad to check, the noise wasnt stopping. Came from the sky, military patrol ? He raised his two tired eyes on the sky and saw a shining rail approaching his forest, falling fast. Not quintesson shaped, and with the gaze of an experimented biomechanist, Ratchet identified a mech.

At this moment, its violently crashed on the ground, behind the trees at maybe three or four miles away. No matter how hard he argued with the scientist sooner this day or how bad he wanted to say fuck to all of this death industry who killed young soldiers, he could do something for the one trapped inside the mech....maybe.... the man regained his car as fast as possible and urgently headed for the crash area.

Deafened sound of tires on the damaged road. Ratchet was already projecting, mentally stocktaking the tools he took with him, and lucky enough for the poor pilot, he quit with almost all of his material, and even if it was mainly mechs repairing material, he also bought some instruments which were used for the subtle neuromedicine between human and mech. Could adapt some of it and stabilize the pilot....then he may have the time to go home and grab proper materials. If there was life there was hope.

" bold of him to crash himself just the day i insulted all of his hierachy".

He frowned. Almost there.

The trees nearby were crushed and uprooted. A flickering pink light catched his gaze.

Almost immediately, the Ratchet analyzed the mech. It was different. He didnt know in wich country it was made but that almost looks alien. The curves and shapes, busted and burned on several places were demonstrating an incredible display of genius ingeniery he could just admiring. But time was not for being amazed on plating.

Someone was trapped there.

He stopped and parked his car in front of a fallen tree, rushing to the car's trunk, taking few indispensable objets, including some of them to help a safe disconnection between pilot/mech. In case he wasnt out already. And a crowbar, the cockpit might be stuck, seeing all the damages the mech has taken...

The sound of slightly wet grass under his feet was covered by a frenetic noise of aeration. Ratchet listened to it, while cautiously approaching the unknown mech. It almost sounded like a breath, but was certainly a depressurisation issue. The mech had fallen from so high on the sky....

The damaged plating were hot, probably from atmosphere friction. He raised his crowbar and his eyes followed the curves of the chestplates, searching for a familiar shape, that could lead him to the injured pilot inside. His gaze stopped on a deep wound, that might have cut through the cockpit.

The engineer stepped on the hot metal, his thick boots preventing him from feeling the heat, and he started searching for a hint....anything that could be a mechanism, anything that could open this damn mech !

Ratchet considered the damaged chest plate he noticed earlier. The surroundings of the wound were leaking bright pink, a very unusual color for fuel. Another of these definitively strange things about the mech. Again....not the time for that. Maybe if he could widen the gap, then he would be able to have an idea of what was going on under this armor.

He tapped the plate, -it was starting to cool down- with one of his finger. It was a very little tap, but the whole mech startled. A hiss of pain, recognisible easily by an emerite engineer-but-i-fix-people-too, it had come from the head of the mecha. Was this modele controlled from the head, like Vortex ? But Vortex was insanely huge for a mech, way taller than this one. He moved careful, noticing the shaking of his support.

"You hear me, kid ? Its going to be ok. You crashed in a safe area.".

He spoke in his medic tone, wich mean, of course brusque, serious, but also reassuring and calm.

He mumbled about the mech's features and tiny words of comfort while reaching for the head.

A red light, not regular and rather epileptic was coming from the head, and while he was almost there, on all four of his limb to keep balance, Ratchet saw it.

A spectacularly humanoid face, with sculpted nose and lips was tensed in a painful expression, frowning, but the thing who trapped his gaze was the two optics....

....staring back at him.

Mechs dont stare. Their eyes are glowing, oftenly to mimick human face, after all, human are pretty prideful creature, no point in piloting big ass metal titan if no one could tell these where their creation.

What human couldnt mimick with technologie, on the other hand, was the subtle expression between trying to evualuate a threat, his own injuries, and looking rather on the verge of death but also ready to tear any enemy's limb appart with its teeth.

With just one....very long....look at the other's eye, Ratchet was suddenly understanding what was going on.

Well....probably not but he knew what he had to save.

The pilot, the pilot he had to save.

The mech was the pilot.

He was the one he had to save.

He stopped trying to -certainly- open his chest. If it wasnt good for human it probably wasnt for living technology.

The giant technological humanoid seemed in a high distress, exhaling a lot of air from his vents, his eye still intensely staring at him and the engineer doubted his usual technique -including trying to make himself as small as possible- would work.

"Its going to be okay Kid. I can help you. There is nothing here that want to harm you".

He did his best to convey all of these emotions with his facial expression and gaze, still firmly watching back at him.

"the world better wait till im home and officially retired before killing me".

The mech's gaze -damn it was so more living than ANY human made machinery- seemed to soften a bit but still radiated with suspicion.

Deadlock had been in several bad situations. It happened quite a lot when a specie of giant aliens with tendrils tried to invade your homeland, and he was ready to it.

Trained to kill, and to do it efficiently.

And he was *good* at it.

This time was just another of these ‘i went too far in my excitation’ moments, and he has crashed on a random planet he hoped was not inhabited. He landed hard, and pieces of his ship must’ve been thrown near his location.

And now, now there was an organic like no one he ever saw, and the organic was on his *lap* and he had the kindest warmest eyes he ever saw.

And these eyes were directly looking at his own eyes, and the well named ‘Deadlock’ was starting to wonder if he finally had reunited with the Allspark. His pained and tenseful grin faded a little and he tried to move his head forward, searching a better point of view to watch the singularity in front of him.

Ow.

Moving hurt.

Some sound came out of the organic’s mouth, probably a language. He didn’t had the proper tools to decode it but the tone of the language was extremely….comforting ? Soft ?

This was scary.

He wasn’t used to be welcomed like that after a fight.

Usually it was either another fight, either the yelling of a superior, either nothing at all. But this actual living being was carefully examinating his chestplates, and he recognized the gestual of someone who was used to heal. A medic perhaps ?

He tried to move something, maybe a hand, to reach for the pale organic, to be sure he was real, but his body was rather uncooperative, from what he could say, one of his legs was missing, and a lot of wound were releasing energon on the ground he couldn’t saw.

The high probabilities of bleeding out and crash was an issue.

He let his head hang, too tired to watch for every moves of the organic, and barely aware of his environment.

There must be a big problem somewhere….

He confusely thought, while watching the stars.

Must be a bigger injury I haven’t saw……..

Ratchet saw the bright light coming from the alien’s eyes slowly fading, and cold swear ran through his back. Yet, he could still say the soldier was alive, the lights of his body were shining, not a lot, but it was enough. He looked at his first aid kit with disappointment. That wouldn’t be very efficient since the form of life he was trying to preserve wasn’t a tiny human. The nearest thing he could compare the Mech to was….well their own mechs, or eventually….Quintesson. An horrible mess of organic and technology. It was partially thanks to their weird constitution that Ratchet had been able to make sense with the ‘he is alive’ thought.

At this moment and with this material, he couldn’t help the kid, and didn’t possess enough knowledge to tell if he was even dying or not.

He had already an idea of what to do….to fix him, at least trying to, but it involved several objects he hadn’t right now. Leaving to search for these so called objects was risking to let an injured alone, he couldn’t take that risk. He was trapped with the mech, and had to hurry and find something. He stood and reached for more adapted material in his car, trying to find something…. Anything.

Surprisingly, the most useful artifact he came across was his electric screwdriver and a bunch of screw along with a long metallic cabke. A parallel between human stitch, with sewing threads and the material he had with him right now. He could manage something between human fixing and mech repairing, that was what the ‘bio’ in bioengineer stood for.

The kid would be ok. He would live and tell Ratchet why he fell from the sky, and maybe if he saw his friend Jazz….out there…….

.

.

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:)) @keferon

(I swear I’m not insane, your AU is just kinda giving me infinite drawing stamina lmao)

[seventeenpins]

bad girl

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: you're staying in your hometown for a couple of months with your mom and relatively new stepdad. he walks in on you masturbating, and is surprised at the sort of porn you've been watching. no outbreak. very smutty. 18+

warnings: ooh god where to begin??, reader is kind of a detached menace but in a fun way?, masturbation, porn watching, infidelity, choking, pussy slapping, pussy eating, unsafe piv, dirty talk, big dick, daddy kink, bit of breeding kink, age difference (unspecified, but reader is late 20s, joel mid-40s or whatever you like really), begging, slight dom/sub vibes, readers mum is a ho, somewhat degrading language (probably other warnings????)

a/n: honestly don't know what happened here. one minute i was working on what i intended to be a lil daddy kink drabble and then it turned into a whole other beast. also--i'm a recently out nb person but feel most of my writing has focused on fem readers. any nbs out there who'd want smut more tailored to us??? doesn't come up in this fic, but in my heart joel miller is bisexual and would make for some gr8 gender play ahhhh

you had only met your stepdad twice before he married your mom, and only a couple of times since, and you could never quite get a read on him. he seemed quiet and gruff. upsettingly hot with his salt and pepper hair, and his biceps, and his little bit of tummy, but seemingly entirely unattainable (how your mom pulled him, you'll never know). your mom didn't have the greatest track record as far as not cheating on her husbands, and you didn't know how much or how little he knew about her past, but you were incredibly curious how long this one'd last.

he's polite. enigmatic. a man of few words. he had two kids, who you hadn't actually met yet, but they were a few years younger than you and away at college--one daughter from a previous marriage, the other adopted when he was a single dad.

you'd only been staying here for a couple of weeks, usually only home for two months out of the year to do some freelance work and catch up with friends, but since your mom got remarried (again) you're adjusting to the new dynamic. you didn't have the best relationship with your mom, but you didn't argue. didn't fight. didn't have enough interest or passion to try and make her angry. you had a mutual understanding--you'd stay here for a couple months of the year, rent-free, and you wouldn't get into it with her about how her four husbands and a dozen boyfriends in between them in the nearly thirty years you'd been alive had simply made you impassive towards most men, knowing they'd never be able to stick around, and instead you took what you wanted and then ditched them before they could ditch you. to say you had daddy issues was just the tip of the iceberg.

there's only been one family dinner night since you've been back, but calling it awkward was an understatement. you were sat in almost total silence, as your mom scrolls on her phone and joel scoops up some mashed potatoes and slaps them onto his plate.

"so, uh-," he begins, clearly not sure how to start a conversation, "how's your work been going? guessing it's pretty slow these months since you're able to take the time away? your freelance stuff going well?"

"sure," you agree, "it does get slow this time of year. freelance has been good. got a couple of projects i'm enjoying working on."

there's another silence.

"your momma said you'd been dating someone you met at your work? how's that been going?"

you laughed, thinking back to one of the only guys you'd mentioned to your mother, less out of a closeness to him and more because you wanted your mom to get off your case, "honestly, that ended a while ago. he was a pretty terrible lay."

joel clearly wasn't expecting that, and you smirked at him as he choked on the beer he was sipping, coughing and trying to cover up any spittle. your mom gently pats him on the back, still staring at her phone, not even listening. typical.

not sure how to follow this up, joel just shrugs and puts on a stoic face. "sorry to hear about that, sweetheart. what a shame."

you'd be lying if you said that didn't make your heart flutter just a little.

you've attuned to the general framework of home again. you've noticed a few other things, too. first, your stepdad seems to be taking a whole lot of evening shifts. second, your mom seems to be out when he's out, too, but always manages to slip in just before he gets home. finally, if there's one thing you know about joel, it's that if he's working an evening shift, you can pretty much guarantee that he's gonna be at least an hour later coming home than he says he'll be. more often than not, two. you've been here for sixteen days, and in the eleven days he's worked late, he's been late late. and this morning, joel said he wouldn't be home till at least 9pm.

it's only 5pm, so you think absolutely nothing of it when you pull up your favorite porn site, careless about keeping your bedroom door closed.

sometimes it takes you a long time to decide on what porn to watch. sometimes you want the release, and just need something that'll get you there quick. and then there are some days where you know exactly what you want. you know exactly how you want it, and you know just where to find it.

you've got an incognito browser up as you scroll through the page till you find the section you're looking for. click open a couple of videos in separate tabs. skip the ads.

place the laptop beside you, choose one to start with, and watch as the scene unfolds.

you need this. it's only been a couple of weeks since you've gotten laid, but you and your most recent fuck buddy have more or less broken up and you are extraordinarily horny, with no outlet besides your hand (and, technically, your trusty magic wand, but you forgot to bring your charging cable and she's only got so much life in her).

you focus on the scene, slowly dragging your fingers along your pussy lips, your other hand pinching and twisting at a nipple. you listen to the moans on screen as you tease yourself, dipping a finger into your tight, wet heat, and then adding another. the friction begins to build, and the pressure you're putting on your clit is just right.

"fuck", you let out a breathless moan as you start finger fucking yourself in earnest. your hips are stuttering and you feel it building so deliciously and you absolutely don't hear the knock on your door and the slight clear of a throat.

and then you register it, a couple of moments later.

you look up from your laptop screen and towards your door and you see your stepdad, cup of coffee in hand, and he's staring at you with an expression you can't parse, one eyebrow raised.

you buffer, taking a moment more for you to react to him, and you manage it in the worst possible way.

"fuck!!" you shout, slamming the laptop shut and practically flinging it away from you, pulling your hand from under the sheets and not-so-subtly wiping your slick on your duvet, and pulling your top back down over your tits. it's all done in a split second, and it was neither low-key nor quiet. you know your face is growing more flushed by the moment, and you can swear joel is actually smirking.

you stare each other down before you finally speak, "what are you doing home so early?"

"i live here," joel shrugs, takes a sip of the coffee, and then realises he might sound like a bit of a dick. "just- uh. just found out some... shitty news. decided to take the day off."

you almost forget the situation, quick to voice your worry--"are you okay joel? what's going on?"

he snorts. opens his mouth and closes it, as if he's decided better of it, and then opens it again. "just found out your mom's been stepping out on me. well. thought it was true for a while, but my brother just saw her with some guy. guess that's all the confirmation i need." he laughs, wryly, and his smile is dangerous.

"well shit," you say. it doesn't surprise you in the least, but you're not sure if it'd be better or worse to acknowledge that, and then you immediately remember your newest stepfather just caught you masturbating and you're deeply self conscious again.

"i'm really sorry, joel, but you've clearly-" you clear your throat, "caught me at a bad time. is there something i can help you with?"

he looks you up and down for a moment, and you can swear he's looking at your mouth for a second longer than you'd expect.

"well," he says, "i'd come up to see if you wanted anything for dinner. i was gonna order takeout."

there's a long pause.

"but now i'm curious about what i interrupted."

your eyes widen.

"let me see your computer. i wanna know what you were watching that you're so embarrassed of."

you immediately grab your laptop close to you and shake your head. this is something joel cannot see. "absolutely fuckin not," you tell him, and his smile gets sharper.

"i wasn't askin', sweetheart."

there's something dangerous about him now, and even though it frightens you, it's somehow exciting, too. commanding. persuasive.

he puts his mug down, and you barely think about what you're doing when you hand him the laptop, type in the password, and turn it around towards him.

you can't bare to look at the screen at the same time as him. it's fucked up and weird and he'd have every reason to avoid you forever after this, but there's a small (but persuasive) part of you that's telling you that this is a line he's willingly crossing, and there's a charge beneath it, and maybe you could get from him exactly what you want.

you study his face as he scrolls down the page. you hear him click, but no sound starts playing--he must be looking at the other tabs.

his eyes widen, and you can hear your heartbeat pounding as you watch his face.

you want him to say something. you need him to say something.

he hits play on one of the videos and the room is immediately fills with the sounds of slick flesh and moans and cries of "oh, daddy, oh daddy please--"

it's only then that he looks at you.

"well aren't you a filthy girl, hmm?" joel ridicules, "and don't think i don't notice the trend with these little videos of yours."

it's humiliating. you almost expect to die out of embarrassment right on the spot.

"look at some of these titles," joel continues, "stepdaughter gets fingerfucked by stepdaddy, stepdaughter's pussy pumped with daddy's cum ASMR, jesus christ girl-" he laughs, incredulous, "letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole".

joel's staring you down and you still haven't said anything, and that just won't do.

"these the usual kinda thing you like to touch yourself to? or is this a new subject now that you're home, spending time around your stepdaddy?"

"i-" you start, "i don't know, i-"

it's not an act, you're pretty fuckin frazzled, practically cocooning yourself in your covers and you shrink back in shame, and this seems to amuse joel to no end

"how's this, sweet girl," he says, and you realise he's been getting closer and closer to you and now he's seated only inches from your bare legs and pussy, still covered up with your blankets, "you tell me to stop, and i'll leave this room right now and close the door and we can pretend i never saw anything here-"

"no!" you cry out, and then slap a hand over your mouth, eyes wide at yourself while joel starts to chuckle.

"or," he continues, "you can let your stepdaddy make you feel real good."

"yes-" you cry, and not a moment later, the blankets are being pulled back and he's stroking two thick fingers along your cunt.

"there's a good girl," he says, and actually groans as he dips into you, collecting your slick, "so fucking wet for me. it is me you've been thinking about, ain't it?" he asks.

"yes joel," you say, because it's the fucking truth. you've been thinking about him nonstop for a while now, thinking about how his muscled arms look in those stupid threadbare t-shirts, thinking about the sigh he makes when he's had his first sip of a cold beer, thinking about the silver of his hair, the brown of his eyes, and the mere idea of what his cock might taste like. "i've wanted you to fuck me since i first met you."

he lets out a fuckin growl and presses his fingers into you. "such a cute little pussy, already dripping for me, huh?" he moans, and it's two digits pressing into you, but you've been working yourself up for a little while now and you're already swollen and wet and they slip right in. he finger fucks you for a moment before turning back to the laptop.

"which one's your favorite?" he nods at your screen, "which one do you watch and wish it was happening to you?"

you swallow and click back to another tab.

"letting my stepdaddy breed my little hole?", he snorts, "you really are a dirty girl, aren't you? get up off the bed." he commands.

you obey, standing up and kicking off the panties still around your ankles.

"and take that top off," he commands, and you do, pulling your top up over your tits and melting at the sound of his groan at seeing you bare for him.

he sits down on the bed with his legs spread, jeans still on. "you come sit here by daddy's lap," he says, and you do, sitting in between his thighs, inching back ever so slightly until you could feel his hard cock straining against his pants.

he runs his fingertips down your body, down your breasts and torso, dipping into your bellybutton, before drawing little circles on your hips.

'hit play," he says, and you grab the laptop next to you and resume the video.

he copies the video, rubbing one hand along your pussy and the other holding your thighs open.

"that's it," he coaxes, "keep those legs open for me, yeah?"

you're about to agree, when he starts stroking little circles around your already stimulated clit and the ability to speak leaves you. all you can do is focus on trying to keep your legs open, but your thighs are already almost quivering and he only chuckles.

"barely even touched you and you're already stupid."

you tried to nod and let out a sad whimper, tipping your head back and resting on his shoulder. he keeps his thumb pressed on your clit while he pumps his middle and index fingers in and out of you. it's so wonderfully, deliciously wrong. it feels addictive.

"you're doing so good, sweetheart, fucking on daddy's fingers like that," he praises, and it sends another spark of electricity building in your centre. encouraged, you start rocking your hips towards him, meeting each thrust of his fingers. "ready for another one?" he asks, and you nod vigorously.

he takes a moment to hold open your pussy and lean over you to look at it, stroking his fingertips along the outer lips, gathering some of your arousal, and prodding back your hood to get a little direct contact with your clit that leaves you writhing and gasping. he's smirking again, and presses a third finger into you. he curls them upwards, fucking the digits into you so nicely, and you enjoy the sensation as your arousal builds and builds and builds and-- as you come, you white out for just a moment, and as you come back into reality you can hear him speaking to you, "oh you're clenching so tight on my fingers, messy girl, look how you're dripping so nice down my fuckin' wrist. you're a nasty little slut, just like your momma huh? but i know you're gonna be a good girl for daddy, ain't ya?"

you continue to grind on his hand as his fingers stay buried in you, as you ride out the rest of your orgasm. only when you still does joel pull his fingers out of you.

as if hypnotised, he examines the arousal coating them. then, quick as anything, he pops his fingers in his mouth and sucks off your slick, immediately looking sheepish as though this was the only line he'd just crossed.

as quickly as he had become shy, he switched back to overt confidence. "y'just taste so good, sweetheart," he says, and then starts stroking your pussy again. "you're gonna let me have a proper taste, aren't you honey?"

you nod helplessly. it's so fucking good, it's too fucking good.

he scoots out from behind you and you buckle a little, toppling back onto the space he left. he's in front of you now and presses your thighs apart again, dropping to his knees on front of the bed's edge. he runs his tongue up your inner thigh, chuckling at your whimpers as he bites and nips at the sensitive skin. he takes a tentative lick, drawing his tongue towards your clit, circling it gently, and then dipping back before pulling off you for a moment.

"y'taste so fucking nice," he breathes, and his exhale on your slick pussy is exquisite. "i could just drink you up."

he presses the hood of your clit back once more, leaving his thumb there, applying perfect pressure as he flicks his tongue directly on that bundle of nerve endings and you feel like you're on fire.

"fuck, joel, yes-" you cry out, but he pulls back and shushes you.

"shhh," he says, "you don't call me joel right now, baby."

"i don't-?" you say, taken aback by the sudden lack of contact. then it clicks. "daddy-"

he smirks, "that's a good girl, sweetheart. wasn't too hard, now, was it?"

"no, daddy," you agree, and he's already diving back in, pressing his tongue into you in long strokes, letting you grind against his nose, his lips, the scratch of his cheeks, every movement he's making is so fucking perfect.

as he devours you, he presses his fingers into you again, and then you can't help yourself. you rut up on him, totally unable to practice anything resembling self restraint. in between strokes of his tongue, he pulls back and tells you, "i'm gonna need at least one more from you, baby, before you even get to think about sitting on this cock."

you let out a crazed whine, feeling joel's chuckle as he dives back in, eating your pussy like he was made to do only that.

he continues to build you up and up and without warning, you reach your peak again and come all over his face, your wet pussy drenching him and he closes his eyes and eats you through it like a man starved.

"fuck, baby," he says, "you taste so damn good, i could do that all day long."

you're splayed out, totally bare, the slick on your thighs cooling with the lack of contact. joel's looking you up and down, admiring your flushed body as he starts to undo his belt and drop his pants, your stomach flipping at the soft thunk of his belt hitting the floor.

you could feel, through his jeans, that his cock wasn't small, but you sure as fuck didn't anticipate just how thick and heavy it would hang between his wonderfully muscled thighs.

"you'd better get over here and fuck me, old man," you tease, and he snorts, before pulling you towards him by your ankles and landing a smack on your bare pussy.

"watch your manners, girl," he sneers.

"fuck!" you cry as you ride out the sensation, and he moves to slap you again, but your thighs are so slick his hand slips when he makes contact and accidentally presses you just right on your overstimulated clit, and to the surprise of both of you, you come again instantly.

he watches you, wide eyed, as you scream and your pussy clenches around nothing.

"you're just too easy, sweetheart," he laughs, "can't believe that little boyfriend of yours was such a bad lay when you're so goddamn easy. barely have to touch you and you're coming again and again for me."

"he'd just put it in, give it a couple thrusts, groan, and roll over," you snorted, loving the way joel's jaw clenches at your words, "besides, i prefer an older man."

"that's a damn shame, honey," he growls, "but i'm sure we can get ya taken care of."

you both realise at the same time that the video is still playing, as some particularly loud moans come through the speaker. you look over, and you swear you can see joel's eyes dilate as he watches.

that's a good girl, the man in the video croons, taking all of daddy's dick. wanna breed you full of me, fill you full of daddy's cum, you'd like that, huh?

you swallow and look back at joel. he looks ravenous.

"you love watching such dirty shit, don't you, baby?" joel asks, and starts teasingly rubbing your swollen clit again with his forefinger.

"yes daddy, please-" you agree, trying to chase the sensation, "please, i need your cock daddy, fill me up just like that-"

he lines himself up, notching the head of his thick cock at your entrance, and you're practically vibrating with need. it's not a want, it really is a need, if you don't have his cock right now you're probably gonna die and you need it you need it you need it so fucking badly

he laughs, and you realise you said all of that aloud, but you don't even have the capacity to feel truly shameful right now, you just need to feel him.

"c'mon, jo- daddy," you whine, "gotta feel you-"

"uh-uh, sweet thing," he chides, "i think you need to beg for it. you've got no manners, and knowing it's your momma who raised you it's pretty clear why, but you need to learn how to be a good girl. daddy's gonna teach you how to behave right here and now. got it?"

you let out a sharp exhale. "yes daddy."

"now beg."

two words shouldn't have such an ability to wreck you, but they do, and before you know it, you're rubbing your drooling pussy up against his cock head, rutting against him, begging and pleading-

"please, daddy, please fuck this wet pussy, you know how wrecked you've made me, turned me on so good, made me drip for you, made me come again and again on your fingers, i just wanna make you feel good, wanna take that cock, take everything you have to give, fuck me hard and fast and please, daddy, please--"

he cups your chin for just a moment, stroking a thumb along your jawline.

"that's better," he soothes, "what a good girl," and then he's slamming into you.

good fucking god he's huge, and you can swear you can feel every ridge, every vein, the swell of his shaft, the notch of his head, he's stretching you out deliciously.

you tilt your head back, leaving your throat bare, and let out a rough plea of, "choke me, daddy," and he doesn't need to be told twice, wrapping his hand around your neck and putting pressure in exactly the right spot. you can already feel the haziness building, and his thrusts keep coming fast and deep and you can feel the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

"jesus christ, girl," he whines, and his thrusts start to falter a little, "you're gonna be the death of me. letting daddy use this nice little pussy just so he can feel good-"

his words begin to tip you over, and you know what you want-

"come inside me, daddy," you choke through the pressure around your throat, "fill me up, make yourself feel good, give it all to me-"

that does him in, and he lets out a strangled moan, coming inside you right as you come one last time, walls clenching tightly around his throbbing cock.

he releases your throat, and you both lay there for a minute, both totally fucked out.

after a minute, joel gingerly pulls out of you and lets out a weary groan.

"gonna be the death of me, woman," he snorts, and walks to your bathroom to clean himself up. he comes back a minute later with a cloth. you're expecting him to wipe you up, but first, he takes a moment to examine the cum that's dripping out of you.

"look so pretty like this, sweetheart," he smiles, presses his cum back into you, and then wipes down your slick thighs with the cloth.

"shit, joel-" you say, "who'd have thought you had that in you, old man?"

he rolls his eyes but he's still smiling, and then you sit together for a minute in comfortable silence. joel stands up after a while and grabs his coffee mug. takes a sip that you know must be cold by now, but he seems unbothered.

before he can leave, you stop him. "so-" you ask, "is this a one time thing, or?"

he shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "no reason i need to let your momma know what i know yet. and i reckon there's a lot more fun we can have before that happens."

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your shoulders relax.

"good." you say, and joel smiles.

"good," he repeats. "now, i know i've worked up quite an appetite and i'm guessing you might have, too. you pick the takeout, i'll go pick it up."

"thanks, joel." you smile, and you're already thinking of the next time as you scroll takeout options on your phone.

that's it. you're fucking addicted, and goddamn you can't wait for your next hit.

[blackmoonoracle]

PICK A CARD - MASCULINE WOUNDS

You can find my brief breakdown of masculine energy in the natal chart here. Tip Jar

PILE 1

tw: sexual trauma

Anger and sex drive, the people in this particular collective may have experienced sexual trauma at any point in time that has developed into an issue with emotional security. In order to heal you need to learn how to develop trust in your perception, self expression, decision making, and any chronic pain or issues need to be given more thought and care. Not accepting the bare minimum, not pushing yourself for the sake of others, not letting others take your power.

Taking your power back for the sake of yourself.

This is an energy of being conscious of chronic issues, extreme trauma, healing from extreme abuse and allowing yourself to let go of the cycle of releasing your power in order to survive. You are not helpless, you are not incapable, you are not weak, you are not bad, you are not a waste of space, energy, words, time, effort, or love. You are a worthy being, you have earned your place, your reputation, your successes, and your desired future. You have suffered a lot, in some way shape or form.

This could've been mental or sexual anguish in pre teen years.

Feeling almost disgusting or gross for existing as a sexual being. Disdain for sex, astonishment I heard as well? I feel like there is potential religious trauma regarding sex in this pile.

There may also be a sense of pain or confusion about life in general, perhaps you are someone who struggles with feeling destined for failure. Like part of you still doesn't believe that you're not destined to suffer, you've learned so much and I feel like a lot of you are like older gen z or late teens.

It feels like you've always felt very judged, and very misinterpreted. Like others could've been offended by your mere presence. Something about the way you thought, or spoke, or expressed yourself was or is very upsetting for people. You're not afraid to talk about the truth? Is the exact way I'm hearing it be described.

You have very powerful voice, and your words pack a punch in more than one way.

Your words project veryyy quickly into your reality, and I heard "reaffirming reality" as well, treating your brain like a science project I heard? LMAO it's giving aquarius 😭

So do mirror affirmations, some of you could have an affinity towards mirror magick. That being said handle that carefully, and know to be careful in approaching that. Make sure you're researching and covering your bases. I heard Aphrodite, so Aphrodite could be trying to work with someone. I also heard keep your peace, so chill out, don't engage with anyone. You're in the process of taking back your power so sometimes people act up. LITERALLY not a you problem, and if they make it a you problem stand your goddamn ground and show that person, no matter who they are, what role they play in your life, that you are under no circumstances going to continue to take their shit. The universe is testing you, lock tf in and don't worry about anyone else. Worry about YOU and YOUR DREAMS, and YOUR DESIRES. Plant the seeds that truly matter to YOU, you won't know if it works until you try it. Don't be afraid to do what you're passionate about. Don't be afraid to be yourself, your authenticity really resonates with others in some way shape or form. It's how you connect with people, you show them that being yourself is a lot less painful that you'd think.

This could be black Moon Lilith in cancer and Scorpio or 4th and 8th house Chiron energy. you could be a cancer rising, some of you could have a leo descendant? I heard polish and German as well for some others, someone could be polish another person could be German. If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

PILE 2

Self Worth, and Value/Honorary Systems This collective has very powerful values. This could be Taurean, or Aquarian energy, possibly also Aries. You could be mars dominant or have a prominent mars in your natal chart. Your mars may also be in the 11th, or 2nd house! Or you could have Uranus in the 2nd house or Venus in the 11th house. Suffice to say this could also be mars in Taurus, or Aquarius as well. 2nd house Venus, or 11th house aquarius. There's something with individualism in this pile as well. A lot of deeply practical energy, possibly very venusian as well. Could have Venus in pisces, or Venus-neptune interactions in the natal chart. You could have Venus in Taurus, or you could have Venus in aries I'm hearing. You are going on a deep journey of transforming your masculine will. Understanding you are worthy of making your creations, that what you create is valuable and is of quality. You are worthy of abundance, you are worthy of success. I feel like there could've been a sense of detachment since a very young age for this pile. It feels like affection could've always been a touchy subject. I'm also seeing a connection to religion here, especially with Venus being in Virgo. Virgo Venus has always reminded me of catholicism due to the very intricate and detail oriented nature of Catholic symbolism. As well as the emphasis on purity, which is an aspect of Virgo. Seeing as it is the virgin. This can also look like your love always coming with deep criticism. Perhaps you could've felt like the ways in which you expressed love were not respected. Or you could've felt like there was a feminine presence that seemed to bring you a great sense of regret. It feels like a self criticism wound. It feels like a disconnection from the mind in order to attain purity. Like, this pile could feel that they need to fully embody some aspect of a pure, or virginesque energy in order to be worthy of recognition?

Soooo specific, but hey! if it resonates it resonates. There's a deep wound here in regard to knowing how to accept help. It's like accepting help in your mind makes you feel like you're worthless, or as if you are not contributing enough. It's like you feel the need to contribute the most, so that others know you are serious and worth taking serious. Being undermined, minimized, having your values be overlooked, or being seen as unremarkable could've been something you struggled deeply with. I see a lot of pain dealing with women here. Significant Mother wounds that could've led to these wounds in your masculinity. Perhaps experiencing silencing, being forced to not do, say, act, or be in some way shape or form because it is "unsightly" or "shameful" Being disregarded, possibly some bullying here, feeling like an outsider. Like no one could grasp your values, your morals, who you TRULY are.

Almost feeling like you lack an identity.

finding balance in yourself, learning how to accept that you are worthy of being helped. That being helped does not make you unworthy, that being helped is something that is okay, that accepting care, and nurturing, and love is a good thing. starving yourself of intimacy in hopes that by taking the lashings of yourself, and others, while remaining in this "pure" state of being will finally make you worthy of being seen. vision is a general thing here. You may feel like your vision doesn't come to light, or that others don't understand your vision. It's unique, it's you, it's not what everyone else might expect of you. You're groundbreaking, no one could ever be you, learning how to be in love with your individuality. Accepting what makes you weird, and accepting yourself in spite of the way others feel. Knowing that accepting yourself is the deepest form of self connection and that you deserve to feel loved and supported.

Accepting that the embodiment of authenticity may cause issues in connections with people who cannot accept themselves or live in their own truth.

Understanding that you can find purity in your search for your authentic self, authentic truth, and your life purpose. Through embodying yourself in your truth.

If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

PILE 3

You may feel stuck in what you were once defined as, as if other people's perceptions of you cut extremely deeply. Your honor is important to you, you like for things to run smoothly. It's important to you to feel secure in who you are and how you express yourself.

I think that, it would be significantly healthy for this pile to learn what makes them feel passionate.

Maybe you feel that you are judged harshly, or in response to a harsh judgmental world you disconnect from yourself. Extreme self consciousness, fear of being "naked" or "vulnerable". Fear of connecting with yourself and others. Fear of relying on or connecting with your community. Feeling like an outcast, impostor syndrome. Lack of self awareness, TOO much self awareness. Untraceable, or difficult to uncover pain. Not understanding the root of things. Beauty that feels skin deep, unrealized depth, and unfulfilled potential. Learning who you are, finding the drive to connect with yourself. Understanding what it means to be you, and that you have to choose yourself at some point in order to lessen suffering. Fear of risk, and Fear of reward, a very loud self critic.

Accepting and acknowledging the mother wound in order to integrate and heal it. Connecting with earth, trusting nature, allowing yourself to think about the things you fear most. Understanding that you cannot hide from certain truths, and that looking the other way doesn't make it go away. There's a song that went viral on TikTok by MGMT called Little Dark Age. I specifically channeled the part that's like "Forgiving who you are, for what you stand to gain, just know that if you hide- it doesn't go away."

Having to understand that you are not responsible for other people, you are not Jesus, why do you bare the cross. Why do you punish yourself for not meeting the "standards" that others are projecting onto you. Are they standards, or are they control tactics, is it manipulation? Are you in alignment with YOUR thoughts, feelings, and desires? Or are you taking on the thoughts, feelings, desires, and expectations of others who want to strip you of your individuality?

Transforming your self concept, looking at what traits, qualities, and authentic self expressions are ACTUALLY in alignment with your highest good & will call in passion, success, happiness, and stability into your life?

Being proud of your intelligence, your ability to perceive, to be know how to think outside of the box.

Having a lot of eccentric natured personality traits and understanding that those are attractive to others. That what makes you different is what makes you likeable, because it's what's uniquely you. Embodying your truest self form, writing affirmations. Creating lists and notes of the hard to integrate topics and realizations in order to make them more tangible.

Excessive mental energy, very deeply tapped into divine creative expressions. Having blessed thoughts, words, and ways. Knowing that you deserve your blessings, and that you are a generator of luck and karma. That you have to ability to move mountains.

Taking it less personal when people throw rocks from glass homes, knowing that you are worthy of better, worthy of more, worthy of success. Feeding your hunger to succeed, knowing that you have the skill, knowledge, creative drive, and capability to connect with others through your art and creativity.

Uncovering what beauty means to you?

I heard Capricorn, Taurus, Virgo, PIsces, cancer, Gemini, mercury, Sagittarius, 9th house, 6th and 5th house.

Sun in aquarius, Moon in Taurus/Capricorn, Moon in gemini, Moon in Aries, Moon-mars aspects.

Mother Gaia

Disconnected from ancestors and spirit team, but willing to learn and receive.

Looking for a new outlook, looking for a way out, remaining steadfast and faithful in what you believe.

Not allowing others to dictate your thoughts, feelings, or reality.

Co-Creating with divine consciousness.

If this pile resonated and you'd like to purchase a personal reading on this topic you can purchase one for just 55$ or send over a tip on Venmo or Kofi if the message resonated and helped in some way! https://ko-fi.com/blackmoonoracle @blackmoonoracle is my Venmo!

[marimoscorner]

Consumerism & Witchcraft

Written by Marimo (he/they)🌿

I’ve seen a turn for the better in some witchy spaces regarding consumerism in the past few years, but overall it still tends to be an issue for us as a community. I’ve decided to try and breakdown the pitfalls I’ve noticed in my own journey, in the hopes that it will inspire and assist others. I’ve also provided alternatives and ideas on how to make small changes in our practice to help us better protect the Earth, stick it to the failing system and still acquire our bits and bobs we love so dearly.

As always, I am no authority on any subject nor am I perfect—but we’re all learning as we go, so let’s dive right in 🌿

A Preface

There are some things that should be made entirely clear before we begin:

You are not a bad person for wanting an aesthetic

You are not a bad person for unknowingly falling into pitfalls. Only if you continue to purposefully do so after knowing better

You are not a bad person for consuming content/objects or for not always making the most sustainable decisions. At the end of the day, we can only control our small part of environmental impact, while the rest is left up to the major corporations that make more pollution than any of us ever will

You are only human. Show yourself some grace and understanding that the internet so lacks.

My Experience in Consumerist Hell

I have fallen victim many times to consumerism in witchcraft. Starting my journey at the ripe age of about ten years old and heavily in the broom closet, I was quickly drawn in by the shiny rocks, the brand new candles and scents, the promise of new tarot decks and pendulums and other fancy, shiny new equipment. I was consuming an online aesthetic along with my ideals, and it distracted me from starting my journey by learning well.

I began to spend my birthday and holiday money on the aesthetic of things. While, granted, I still did buy a few literary resources now and again from my local secondhand bookstore—I was stubbornly ignoring the sage advice to learn and understand first before diving in headfirst.

I purchased statues, crystals, too many tarot decks to use. I purchased osteomancy bones I later returned to the earth, for I had not done enough research to know that that animal was mine to practice with. I had a tankard full of incense sticks, and even a growing pile of books that would not be read. While I liked to consider myself crafty with my homemade Maypole and various hand-bound Grimoires, something was becoming apparent: this was all a distraction.

The aesthetic I was partaking in was providing me with a false sense of progress and practicality.

When I’d go to do a tarot reading, I’d become far too overwhelmed with choosing a deck to read in the first place. When making an offering to a deity, I’d feel pressured to also bolster the altars of all the other deities I’d set up, and with my wide pool, the connections felt muddy. Often times I’d be off-put on a project or spell because I knew I needed to film it and it needed to look nice.

In the long term, I don’t have many of these items today. I’ve sold and donated a vast breadth of them. Feeling overwhelmed costed me a few years retreat from my craft to recuperate. However, what has stuck with me is the knowledge I picked up along the way.

So, What’s the Issue? TL;DR

I’ve noticed a few issues here in making these mistakes myself.

Consumerism absolutely distracts you from learning and your craft

Overconsumption leads to environmental damage. If everyone hoarded supplies, there would not be enough to go around. And with what gets thrown away every year…it paints an ugly wound on the Earth

We damage our learning abilities by not allowing ourselves to be anything less than perfect

The need for aesthetic creates barriers to entry within the community and creates a divide of haves and have-nots

You won’t be able to truly follow your individual path if you are only consuming and not creating for yourself

Consumerist culture promotes appropriation. Metaphysical stores carry items from closed practices (such as white sage and palo santo, or coyote bones) because someone is buying them. Don’t be that person, and find alternatives relating to your own culture instead

Consumerism can influence your spiritual decisions based upon monetary inclinations (where some may sacrifice a quality ingredient over a higher quantity of a lower quality ingredient)

So, what can we do?

Firstly, I want to clarify that I am not against collecting, nor am I against maximalism or the beautiful visual aesthetic we carry as a community.

I am an artist a very visual person and understand the longing for a beautiful home and workspace. However, this aesthetic shouldn’t come at the cost of irresponsibly harming the Earth or another community.

Thus, I’ve compiled a list of small things that I will be incorporating into my practice to make it more mindful and sustainable. I hope that you’ll join me in a few of them.

Minimize Supplies. While I used to have a huge selection of stationary for my Grimoire, I now limit myself to a simple pencil and watercolor set if I’m feeling artistic. This helps me actually use my Grimoire for study, rather than to keep perfect. It’s also friendlier on my wallet!

Thrift Supplies. There are plenty of perfectly good items that get donated daily. You can get high-quality candles and holders, old crystal bowls for altar offerings, spare crafting supplies, fabric for alter cloths and even clothing if you so wish—all for a fraction of the cost new and while saving the planet just a little bit more. Hell, you can sometimes even find good silver!

Share Supplies with your Community. You can create a sort of barter system with other witches in your area. Perhaps you create a sigil for them, and they provide you with a candle spell. Play to your strengths and grow together!

Look for Creative Outlets. Do you really need to go buy an altar statue that’s been mass-produced? Or can you give your deity the personal gift of a drawing, painting or even hand-modeled or hand-carved rendition? This will also deepen your connection to your craft and your magic, and make it more meaningful and stronger. If you really like something, though, go for it!

If you aren’t the artistic sort, consider supporting an artist before going to a large company. While I haven’t purchased from them myself, Blagowood on Etsy has beautiful deity statues carved from wood by their small team in Ukraine for a comparable cost to the standard mass produced metal statues. I consider this extra labor of love going into these pieces and those of similar small companies to be much better energy for my practice. I myself may put out some art prints and other handmade supplies in the future, but I will likely spread them around my community first.

Try Secondhand Books. While not available in every area and further still not as available for witchcraft and occult books, you may strike luck! Not only are secondhand books less expensive, but you’ll be supporting a local business. That’s not to say you can’t buy firsthand books, but some searching around may be beneficial to the earth and to your wallet in the long run.

Be mindful of where you source supplies and decor. If you are a fan of taxidermy decor, make sure that you source cruelty free. Bats can practically never be sourced without cruelty, so if a shop carries them, I’d be mindful of their other specimens. The same goes for if a shop decides to forgo a culture’s wishes and carry supplies sacred to them, such as white sage or dreamcatchers. Supporting folks who turn a profit off of others’ suffering is not something many would wish to include energetically in their craft.

Search the Wild for Tools. Find sticks, flowers and other plants out in the forest. Learn how to rockhound in your area for crystals. Your craft will be more powerful the more connected it is to the land you are surrounded by. Be sure to reference guides for safety and legality!

Get Creative with Purposes. If you are having difficulty finding exactly what you need by thrifting or searching, make another tool multipurpose if it would do the job good enough. Find supplies that are easy to source and work as substitutes for other ingredients (ex. Quartz as a stand in for other stones)

Spend more time Doing. Go out into the woods (safely) and advance your connection to the earth instead of worrying over the perfect item for your collection. Your craft will benefit

At the end of the day, all of this is your decision. Take what you like, and leave what you don’t. Even if we don’t agree, I thank you for your time and open mind. I will continue updating about how I incorporate these steps, and I will also hopefully post more on witchy crafting in the future.

I wish you well, and hope you’ll decide to follow along on our journey!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

complicated feelings about book 7

Hey, hello, hi!!

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts and feelings about the direction the main story is going in ever since 7-100. I wanted to wait until the hype for the book 7 part 9 and anticipating part 10 settled down a bit before I made this post, as I wouldn’t want to impede anyone’s excitement for it—and now that time has come.

While I wouldn’t say I’m being entirely negative or harsh in this post (I’d say I’m being “worried” in my critique at most), I’d caution you to avoid it if you think it would upset you or mess with your enjoyment of the main story, especially knowing that the book 7 part 10 update is coming later in August.

Thank you for your time ^^ and without further ado…

I started to feel iffy about how the story is going around the part Idia wakes up. At the time, I remained optimistic and brushed it off. However, the inkling I had then has since magnified, especially with the recent Scarabia update.

What is that issue with, you may ask?

The dream hopping and waking segments.

They feel so… for lack of a better term, dissatisfying?? Rushed?? I don’t know, but I’m left still feeling like (just as Ariel says) I want more. I was hype when they first happened, but with each new update, I let myself sit with what happened for a few days and, thinking back on it, problems start to arise.

Don't get me wrong, I'm NOT saying that these segments are lame or that they don't make sense. I love being able to delve into the dreams and see a ton of novel yet absurd things, and I love how genius Idia's plan is. It makes sense narratively and I, of course, appreciate being able to see the dreamscapes and the desires of so many beloved characters. BUT... The problems primarily come down to pacing and the overabundance of contrivances.

The set-up itself is elaborate but also keeps piling up more “but also we need to do THIS” details that seem to overcomplicate things or act as red herrings. Silver’s UM itself is already warranting an explanation, then we got Idia’s video presentation, now we have to account for leaving people and hologram projections behind… all for the sake of limiting how many people travel to the dreams because OH YEAH we also need to consider Malleus catching on. It’s contrived for the sake of the narrative giving everyone a chance in the spotlight before the Big Finale. The universe has to dedicate so much time to explaining how this is feasible or why people need to stay behind in order to justify the pacing and to avoid an increasingly growing group from competing for attention. We spent SO long on just exploring Lilia's dream that the shift to waking up all these other characters seems so much quicker by comparison. It's natural that we can only devote so much time to each character (since we have so many students to collect), but it also results in some people feeling very rushed or not fully realized. For example, Epel only gets 5 parts dedicated to his turn-around but Kalim gets 8. This variance naturally occurs as some dreams are less serious than others, but despite this it still leans into some non-OB boys getting more of the spotlight than others. Additionally, we also see very uneven distribution of lines across individual segments. There is so much information crammed into some parts (like 140 and 141) while other parts are pathetically sparse and not much happens.

When it comes to the OB boys, they of course get longer segments than the others, so it doesn't feel as bad. However, I think the OB boys come with other issues... Namely the "resolutions" to their battles against their OB forms. Not only is there a formula to how they are woken up (which makes things less exciting compared to not really knowing what happens in the main story except for OB boy at the end), but there's also a part carved out for them to give a big speech about how they've changed or how they'll move on from the past, etc. This is especially true of Jamil, who probably had the longest speech of the OB boys thus far.

Now yes, I know it's an anime trope to give speeches (particularly for TWST, which primarily tells its story via dialogue). But does it have to be so... blatant??? Like, the OB boys are usually alone or just trapped with their inner darkness in these moments. Who exactly are they announcing their character change to? It does not feel diegetic at all. This is a lot of telling and not as much showing. That contrasts with the character development we saw in book 6; at least there the OB boys were paired up with other people, so there was someone to bounce off of and butt heads with. It feels like they're having a conversation, actually bonding with their peers, and learning from those tough interactions. (In fact, I would argue that book 6 did this growth in a much better paced and more cohesive manner.) In the dreams of book 7, the interactions have to be shared among several other students and they have to be so much shorter as a result of that.

What we’re seeing in book 7 is character growth we already knew about, but told to us in a more overt way. We are not learning anything new. Waking people in book 7 involves a lot of flashbacks to events that already played out, so rather than any real development being made, it's returning people to the state they were in before (since that "change" was in the process of occurring in the real world).

It feels like book 7 is trying hard to follow through with all the promises the earlier books built up to. And, quite honestly, many of these emotional conversations (like Kalim and Jamil shouting at each other about their flaws) NEEDED to happen. I just don't know if this was the appropriate context for it, because it comes off as an ultimatum or an ending to a story that had so much more left to say.

The way these book 7 segments are framed, the students "waking" is meant to mark a pivotal moment in their development. I worry what this means, because the dialogue is very... resolute? Especially for the OB boys. And them announcing how they've changed out loud rather than in a more subtle way (like Kalim saying he is 'frustrated' but not being able to explain why in book 4, Leona saying that Jamil is "not like him" in book 6; implying that there is hope for Jamil but not for himself, etc.)... It gives the impression that this is the "end" of their character arcs, that their growth is now "complete", even if that wasn’t the intention. I don't feel like that's how character development works?????? It's never really "done", it's a continuous and ongoing thing, so the vibes of it feel a little off. I would have liked it more if it were open-ended or at least vaguer. Still hopeful, but vaguer. These are meant to be triumphant moments, yet I don't get that feeling because it's very repetitive at this point. I've pointed out many patterns myself, and that makes future installments VERY predictable and boring aside from the actual dream settings we visit. We have 11 more students to hit up. E L E V E N. That's SO many. Do you realize how far away that is????? I even ran the numbers:

Idia spans 109 - 116 (7 parts)

Epel spans 120 - 124 (5 parts)

Rook spans 125 - 131 (7 parts)

Vil spans 133 - 139 (8 parts)

Kalim spans 140 - 147 (8 parts)

Jamil spans 148 - 157 (10 parts)

That means, on average, it takes 7.5 parts for each character to wake up. With 11 characters left to do, that means we have at LEAST 82.5 parts left (spread across 3 updates, one for Octavinelle, one for Savanaclaw, and one for Heartslabyul). With the current 157 parts out, that means book 7 is going on until at least part like 240... AND WE STILL HAVE A TON LEFT TO WRAP UP, like Yuu going home, Grim OB, Crowley's intentions, the mystery of Raverne’s disappearance, the truth behind Mickey and Yuu’s connection, beating the crap out of OB Malleus, etc. Book 7 is dragging on for a while, and the novelty of each dreamscape can only last for so long before the same old pesky problems creep in again 💀 The pacing is so weird; it simultaneously feels too long and yet also not long enough. Not only that, but because there are so many other characters to collect, it is robbing Diasomnia and Ignihyde of THEIR promised screen time in the second half of the book.

A lesser issue I had was the weird... tonal whiplash? The dream segments are largely silly and they spend a lot of them goofing around with the explanation of having to "investigate" the dreamer's weak point and hitting on that to wake them. (This complaint runs counter to the pacing issues I mentioned earlier; cutting down on the time spent being silly means we'd be rushing the story, but not having silly parts means dragging the story out. It's hard to really balance the two.) Here I am sitting here and thinking 1) there is NO sense of urgency, 2) what a waste of time, and 3) what a wasted opportunity for Yuu.

I'm not a huge game!Yuu fan; I see them as a blank slate for self-inserting, and since I'm not someone who likes to self-insert, Yuu has little to no value to me and just serves primarily as a vehicle to have things exposited to them and as a POV character. But hey, if the story wants to stress Yuu is important and helps these characters change, then why not do it here??????? There's so few times when they actually do something of importance in the main story (with perhaps their most involved points being books 3 and 4, maybe 6 when they took the initiative to go free their friends/rescue Grim).

A lot of it honestly feels like wasted time since most characters outside of the dorm leader do not change in significant way or in less serious manners. It really falls flat because Yuu largely did not do anything to influence those extra characters, let alone the OB boys.

While talking with a friend, they suggested that non-OB boy sequences could have been relegated to vignettes to go with limited story cards (that way TWST could have more banners, assuming one for each character) or as free bonus side-content that unlocks as an optional thing similar to how the collecting wishes worked in Wish Upon a Star; they are not essential. It feels like they were obligatorily thrown in as fanservice before the big closing. The narrative would have still worked and we would get to the point faster if we limited the main story componeny to just the necessary people (Ignihyde + OB boys).

Another potential route: if you insist on hitting up all the characters before the end, why not give Yuu a chance to DO SOMETHING in book 7 since they're the only person in the wake-up crew to have interacted with all these people we're trying to wake up? The only one who has experienced detailed and prophetic dreams associated with the OB boys???? The one who has been tasked with investigating and resolving various students' issues around campus? Why not let Yuu take the lead in discovering the best method to wake each boy up? Then we'd at least get character development on Yuu's part, get to see how Yuu is positively influencing the boys, and it cuts down on the down time of wandering in circles and making no meaningful progress.

Finally, I think the bad pacing messes with Diasomnia the most. Malleus is being shafted in his own darn book, because we have not checked in with him for several tens and tens of chapters. The least book 7 could do is cut back to him at the end of each OB boy’s dreams??? So we can see how he is doing?? But no, we don’t do that and as a result Malleus feels like he’s been sitting around twiddling his thumbs the entire time. And it’s very odd that the first 100ish parts are so Briar Valley lore heavy but then the second 100+ parts so far completely changed it up. Again, all of this contributes to book 7 feeling like choking on content while also weirdly having nothing meaningful to chew on at all.

*takes a deep breath*

Anyway, those are my thoughts 💦 I would like to reiterate that I do NOT "hate" book 7, I just disagree with the pacing and how they've decided to write in waking up the characters for this current stretch of it. It's no doubt a daunting task and I'm sure the writers are all doing their very best... I don't know if the end product managed to achieve what it wanted to for me though. It’s tiring and repetitive (like bouncing up and down on a roller coaster that cannot decide how it wants to go and leaves you no time to recover/catch your breath), and I’m left still feeling unsatisfied and wanting more.

Theoretically, I like the ideas but not the execution of them… I can only hope that the pacing improves for future updates (especially with the Octa update on the way and attempting to shake up the formula by introducing two story SSRs instead of one), or that book 7 can at least end strongly with that final battle.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What animal do you most resemble and why?

So just so yall know before you go to your piles. The animals in the pictures might not be the creature that you most resemble. I am using the Untamed Spirit Animal Oracle in this reading. Please take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new perspectives about yourself.

_________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Pisces, Sagittarius, Aries

Song: all i ever wanted by Mazie

Vibes: 🖤💙🔭✈️🕷🦋🕶🎓🐾🌏🌊🫐🍙🧊🎧♟🦽💎⛏🛋📘✒️💤♿️🔊♠️🏁

Cards: Lion, 5 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Void, Karmic Relationships

Hi, pile 1! Welcome. These cards tell me you look most like a lion. I can see some of you have prominent noses that make your face very lion-like. All of you have the most piercing fierce eyes. I also see you have soft hands and nice nails that you probably get done regularly. You are legit gorgeous and you have this extensive hair routine you do almost every day. You might wear a bonnet to sleep or you have a silk pillow case to protect it. I can also see you are surprised by these compliments. You have some self-esteem issues that frustrate you a lot. These beliefs you have about your physical appearance are built around the opinions of others. First off, they only shit on you cus they are jealous. These cards have a weird undertone of relationships so I think maybe you had a partner at one point who was SUUUUPER jealous of how beautiful you are. Wow, they are pressed about it. They probably said some extremely mean things to you about your appearance that stick with you even though it doesn't look like they are around you anymore. I hear them saying you have RBF or something. You have literally nothing to feel insecure about my dear.. Like you complimented yourself in the mirror around this person and they like immediately tried to knock you down a peg. Dude, that person is SO ENVIOUUS. Don't listen to their words. You need to see through their words to the true emotions behind them. Don't let these jealous people dim you light, girl!!! Their words are not based on reality. It is distorted by their emotions. Just know when they look in the mirror all they hear is their momma tellin them they're ugly as fuck. They were just projecting their insecurities, baby.

PILE TWO

Astrology: Taurus, Leo, Aquarius

Song: Body Talks by The Struts, Kesha

Vibes: 💛🧡❤️💙🎁🧿💰🌅🏖🚦🚚🚎🎯🎭🏅🍹🫐🍂🌊🌈🌏🍁🐠🫂🤖🥶😰

Cards: Badger, 7 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, The Seven Star Sisters, Jump In

Hey there, pile 2!! You have such an interesting energy. The animal you most resemble is the Badger. So from what I'm reading from the other cards this is less of a physical resemblance and more of an attitude resemblance. The way you hold yourself is like you do not give a fuck what anyone thinks about you. You had many people around you growing up who were considered "conventionally attractive" and for a long time, this bothered you. I think sometimes it does still bother you but you have grown your self-esteem a lot since you were little. You got tired of fighting for attention real quick. You realized how dumb the competition of appearance is and began to explore your expression more for fun rather than to fit in. You have a unique way of expressing yourself, especially with your make-up. Dark eye shadow is your signature look. It makes your already really unique eye color pop like nothing else. You dress very alternatively compared to your siblings and/or friends. The style does have a touch of whimsicalness to it too. I see some of the people who picked this pile have a curvy body type. You keep your hair short for the most part because it's easier to manage while short. You truly have such a fantastic head-turning style. I really do love your energy, my dear. Like, wow you are fucking awesome. I would have looked at you as a kid and wanted to look like you so bad.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Scorpio, Libra, Gemini

Song: The Middle by Jimmy Eats World

Vibes: 🤍🖤🔎🖋🧷📓🩺🔬🔌📷📼🎥🎹🎼🎤🎧🎬🌪🐚🪨🐇🕊🦢🐈‍⬛🕸🐰👟

Cards: Toad, Fox, 8 of Swords, 2 of Wands, Double Mission, Deep Cellular Healing

Oh, pile 3. This is gonna be a kind of shadow work-y kind of reading so just be prepared to be called out okay? Trigger warning for SA. You make yourself ugly on purpose. You hid your beauty from yourself. I dunno exactly what you do to hide it from others but I see you wearing clothes that keep your shape a secret. You do your make-up in a way that accentuates the dark cycles under your eyes. You make yourself look sick and dying. You force yourself to believe you resemble a Toad. I don't blame you, my friend. You went through something truly terrible that made you feel ugly so you express it outwardly constantly. You believe you are ugly because of what happened. What they did to you didn't taint your beauty, homie. You aren't dirty. You aren't hideous or unattractive naturally. You are so scared of what happened, happening again. It makes you put up these defenses in-order to feel safe. My friend you are already safe without these defenses. You might be doing way more harm than good, my friend. If you stopped hiding your true beauty from yourself, you would more resemble a Fox. These cards are encouraging you to heal from what happened to you mentally. Your reaction to what happened isn't wrong but you shouldn't destroy yourself because of how others treated you. You are stunning and so naturally gorgeous. I hear you saying that your feelings about what happened don't matter. That is a lie you tell yourself. That is a lie someone else told you. What happened to you was truly awful. What they did to you was disgusting but it doesn't make you disgusting. It makes THEM disgusting. What THEY did is disgusting. You are beautiful. You are so drop-dead, star-struck glamorous! You aren't a toad. You are a fox. Please embrace your authenticity because you deserve to feel good. You deserve to see your body for what it truly is.

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Cancer, Capricorn, Virgo

Song: Honey And The Bee by Owl City

Vibes: 🤍💖💛🦦😜👄☀️👟🐁👙👑🎂🐱🐻‍❄️🌙🦭🌸🌼🍣🍰⚾️🎗🎟🎲📿

Cards: Otter, Queen of Cups, The Well, A New Earth, Called

Pile 4. You are so fucking cute. Like so cute. Like I feel your energy and all I feel and think is "Awwww~ What a cuuutie!". You most resemble an Otter. Which in my opinion, ARE SO FUCKING CUTE!!! I see you like to color your hair in pastel colors and it's SUUUPER long. Like you have been growing out your hair for a while now. You have this cute little button nose and these super pretty dark eyes. Ohmygods you have no idea how much I think brown eyes are the prettiest eyes. You put a lot of creativity in your outfits so you always look so snatched and dolled up. You like the long flowy dresses and shirts that billow in the wind. They make you look like a fairy. You always smell like incense and sea salt. You probably love swimming or surfing or some kind of sport you play in the water so you are very lean. I see you might be pursuing some kind of profession in the beauty industry. Either that or you just look like a model and people think you are one. You wear these pretty flowers in your hair that give you this gorgeous halo of lavender. You have been absolutely blessed by Lady Aphrodite. She loves you like her child. She blesses you with fashion sense and soft features.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I have a question. In one of my projects, set in a vaguely 1600s fantasy pirate setting, one of my characters starts out as a burn survivor, with a large burn on her cheek.

She wears a scarf initially to protect the burn from the salt air as well as some self esteem issues, however I don’t want to fall into the masked burn survivor trope, or have a self-hating disabled character.

If it helps, over the course of the story she gets access to hydrating salves and stops needing the scarf as she grows to accept her facial difference.

Thank you for your time, and for all the help you give to us!

Hey!

I think protecting a burn scar from salt is smart. It also could help with the sun-related issues. However, the scarf should be of an appropriate material - a rough texture would only irritate and scratch it, which causes even more problems. If you mention that, or show the process of her choosing something that works for her from that angle, I think it would be much more of a "medical device" and less of a "hiding disability".

It's important to discuss why she has the self-esteem issues. Don't make it into a "duh, obviously someone with a facial difference would have low self-esteem, just look at them" which I constantly see.

Was she bullied or harassed over being disabled?

Is she traumatized from experiencing abuse or aggression? Does she fear that being visibly disabled will make her a target for violence again?

Was there a particular person who made her feel that way, like a parent or a "friend" that influenced her view of herself?

Was society around her lacking examples of happy burn survivors, so she assumed that she can't be happy either?

Make it clear why she feels that way, and don't make the narrative frame her facial difference as the root problem. The problem should be the thing that caused her to feel insecure. It's the same as the fact that mobility aids aren't a problem, inaccessibility is - at least that's how I look at it as someone who has an FD and uses a mobility aid.

This is by no means disability-specific, but look out for tragedy porn. Even if she has had bad experiences, I guarantee you that she had happy ones as well. In her case, maybe she met the funniest girl ever at the 1600s fantasy pirate burn unit, maybe the doctor who treated her helped her discover a new hobby while she was stuck in bed. Her backstory shouldn't boil down to "happy (abled) life, then the Accident, then horrible (disabled) life". That'd be a very hurtful message to send.

I do appreciate that she gets character development around her facial difference. I will say that this internal change often comes from seeing other disabled people thrive, being proud, shown as beautiful and valuable, etc. Representation is important in stories, even in-universe. This was certainly the case for me, and is the reason why now I'm so loud about including happy and positive people with facial differences everywhere. This stuff doesn't exist in a vacuum, you're affecting how people see themselves. It also leads me to my last, probably comically predictable point, which is...

Add more burn survivors, or at least characters with other facial differences, into the story. Preferably ones that have the low self-esteem either far behind them or haven't struggled with it in general (we exist). They don't have to be major characters but even just mentioned; e.g. your character thinking about other survivors she met in the place that treated her burns, or her seeing people with visible facial differences out and about and it making her think about why she even hides hers, etc. In short - don't make shame seem like the default reaction to having a facial difference, because it isn't.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[the-oracle-of-the-lost]

ST DIALOGUE ANALYSIS – GENDER

for the whole project see my tag #star trek dialogue analysis and my spreadsheet data here

other related links: overview // TOS overview // TNG overview // DS9 overview // Voyager overview // Enterprise overview // race analysis

this post will be diving to explore the differences in amount of dialogue male vs female characters received in TNG, DS9, Voyager, and Enterprise. i also have data on TOS but am not including it here because it aired over 20 years before TNG in a much different social climate with a different style of show and just isn't that useful for a comparative analysis in my opinion.

also a note/disclaimer that this project only looks at amount of dialogue, not necessarily the quality of women's roles in each show or the misogyny present in the content of the shows. here i'm just trying to do a statistical analysis with quantitative data, not looking at qualitative elements as many people have already written about Star Trek's various misogyny & sexism problems more coherently than i can. (though please feel free to use this data in any qualitative analyses!)

and one last note – i use the words "woman" and "female" (and "man" and "male") interchangably here. this is mostly because in English "female/male characters" is grammatically correct and is a more used term than "woman/man characters". i'm not trying to pull any bullshit terfy sex vs gender shit. and while some characters do have trans/genderqueer subtext to their characters (especially alien characters), i am just looking at this through the gender of the actor portraying them (all of whom are cis).

so without further ado – read the results under the cut!

cast composition by gender

it goes without saying that all four of these shows had less female characters than male characters overall – TNG, DS9, and Voyager all had ten regular cast members at various points. in TNG – 4 of the characters are women but only had 2 female regulars for six of its seven seasons (with 3 in season 1). in DS9 – there are 3 female characters with 2 at any given point. in Voyager – there are 4 female characters with 3 at any given point. and in Enterprise – there are 2 female characters out of the 7 person cast.

this means that TNG's cast is comprised of 40% women overall and with 33.3% women in s1 and 25% women in s2-3 and 28.6% in s4-7. DS9 is comprised of 30% women overall with 25% women in s1-3 and 22.2% in s4-7. Voyager is made of 40% women overall and 33.3% in each season. And Enterprise has 20% women overall and in each season.

it should also be noted that the only people removed & replaced from the 90s Star Trek shows are women with Denise Crosby leaving because of frustration with the writing for her character & the general management of the show (though she later came back for guest appearances), Gates McFadden being fired for voicing her complaints with sexist writing (and eventually rehired), Terry Farrell leaving because of sexism, harassment, and unequal treatment from execs, and Jennifer Lien being replaced due to personal reasons. it goes without saying that this is a pretty bad history with 30% of actresses having been fired, forced to leave, or quit because of behind the scenes issues. (note that Diana Muldaur also left TNG but from my knowledge, she left because her contract was up & because Gates McFadden was rehired, not because of any particular issues around sexism or harassment so i did not include her in that 30% statistic.)

how much of the show's dialogue is from women vs men?

in TNG, women had 7,430 lines of dialogue from regulars across the show while men had 35,718 lines. this means that women had 17.22% of the dialogue across the seven season run.

(% of female character lines in blue and % of male character lines in red)

in DS9, women had a somewhat better 10,460 lines compared to the men's 32,698 lines. meaning women had 24.24% of the dialogue.

(% of female character lines in blue and % of male character lines in red)

in Voyager, women had a much improved 21,582 lines compared to the men's 29,549 lines. in other words, women had 42.21% of the dialogue.

(% of female character lines in blue and % of male character lines in red)

and while it seemed things were on an upward trend for women's representation, Enterprise only had 5,941 lines from female characters compared to the males' 19,077 lines. meaning women had 23.75% of the dialogue.

(% of female character lines in blue and % of male character lines in red)

in total across all four shows, women had 27.95% of the dialogue compared to men having 72.05%. (interestingly this is a similar ratio to the amount of dialogue from characters of color vs white characters.) the next time someone brings up that they preferred how women were written on older trek compared to new trek, be sure to remind them that women on average had only 28% of the dialogue despite the fact that women make up around half of the global population.

(% of female character lines in blue and % of male character lines in red)

average female characters' # of lines compared to male characters

this measure ignores the fact that men make up the majority of all the shows' cast and is now just focused on how many lines per episode on average female characters have compared to male characters.

in TNG, the average female characters' line count is 20.68 per episode compared to the males' 34.55.

in DS9, the average female characters' line count is 32.78 to the males' 28.18.

in Voyager, the average female characters' line count is 36.1 to the males' 29.32.

in Enterprise, the average female characters' line count is 30.01 to the males' 38.54.

out of all of the shows, the average female characters' line count is 29.65 and the males' is 32.21.

i would highlight that in both DS9 and Voyager, women typically have more lines than the men on the show, especially on Voyager given that the lead character is a woman. but there's a pretty large gender gap in both TNG and Enterprise which leaves male characters with slightly more lines overall.

most to least lines

female characters with the most to least lines per episode are as follows: Janeway (69.51), T'Pol (44.02), Seven (40.88), Ezri (39.84), Kira (32.24), Torres (26.3), Jadzia (26.26), Pulaski (23.95), Crusher (20.79), Yar (19), Kes (18.18), Troi (18.11), Sato (15.99).

it's also worth noting that out of the 13 female characters from this era of Trek, only 2 of them are characters of color (B'Elanna Torres and Hoshi Sato) who both have a below average amount of dialogue compared to other female characters. (Torres – 26.3 average lines per episode, Sato – 15.99 average lines per episode). obviously race is a highly significant factor when considering amount of lines/screentime and i will have a similar post dedicated to it here (link will be posted shortly).

[ro-bee]

Hi!

Could maybe say something more about your Goat Realm?

What is story of Puppy narinder here?

What heretics look like here and how are they behaviour? (I'm curious about it because I love these beans. I'm all ears to any littlest detail)

How other bishops look like?

And anyway anything. I'm all ears to all ramble!

Drink your water!

HELLOOO

It is time for the goatverse yap section ! Everybody cheers!!

Anyway little disclaimers :

1_ is very work in progress... Unfortunately all my focus is on those two gay furries and not much on the world so I don't have many drawings to show :(

2_ it's heavy... And I mean there are strong themes and stuff (I'm not gonna go in details here) ... You'll see it better when I finish one of my many projects but it will require a lot of time... Like a lot, sorry... Anyway :)

Goat's world is very harsh. Here we live by the philosophy of kill or be killed very often, despite that there are some people that manage to live in piece and tranquility (example: goat's family and people that don't venerate any specific bishops or that venerate Kiran)

The world is ruled by the 5 bishops (these design are still concepts expect our beloved wolf lol)

Four of them command on different regions, Kiran being the god of death rules the purgatory

He doesn't have many followers like his siblings but he prefers it like that, it doesn't really matter to him because people souls would end up to him anyway.

His siblings have more of an evil alineament, they use their godhood for bad often, taking entertainment on their followers pain. Kiran is the opposite and witnessing his followers suffering fills him with sorrow, that's why he always gives his followers a painless death, is the last he can do for them... After all their souls gives him power :)

Anyway I think I already explained kiran's plan here , tldr bro is sad people suffer so he thinks that killing everything is a good solution

A little thing I want to add to kiran's backstory thing (idk):

I think that unfortunately we're not gonna have a ratau in this world, since Kiran's objective is to get rid of pain with putting everyone's soul to rest I think he won't let any previous vessel go away after failing (I'm not doing this because I hate ratau, he's my dad I love him so much)

So goat had no guide in what they were doing

Heretics here are just like regular heretics(?), if you wanted to know more about their design unfortunately I don't have anything with them :( I have some sketches in the comic I'm working on but I need to keep it as a surprise

Most of them are just regular people that want to survive...

Talking about people who want to survive:

Goat wasn't always this fucked up in the head, this whole deal changed them for the worst. Before the crown they lived a normal peaceful life with their family, when they lost everything they were forced to learn how to fight back to survive. So they spent many years running away and fighting back, they felt terrible at first but then it started to feel normal, almost enjoyable. Getting the crowns powers made killing people fun for them so yeah lol this is the evolution of goat going from calm Lyra player to killer machine, they have a loooooot of anger issues lol.

About the bishops... I'm currently drawing them better and they still have no name right now...

Their personality is the opposite of the canon one basically

The leshy is calm less impulsive

The geko is a prudent and a bit coward

The kraken is fearless and violent

The scorpion is ruthless and impulsive

Kiran is their older brother and loves them very much!! the feeling is not very mutual but anyway :)

I need to work a little bit more on them ngl

Aaaand I think this is all? Hmm idk feel free to ask more :)

[mikavlcs]

Dog Days

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Summary: The help you need to confess to your crush winds up coming from an incredibly unlikely (and furry) source.

Warnings: ooc!wednesday, hints of bad poetry lol, bad writing, this is another very unserious story

Word count: 3.3k

Notes: the poetry part of this request kicked my ass and you can tell LMFAO. sorry it took so long (and sorry it kinda sucks), but i hope you guys enjoy!

Masterlist | Bonus

Confessing your feelings to someone you like was one of the most profound plights a person could ever face, you’ve decided.

Because to you, right now, there was no greater challenge to overcome, no finer show of courage than to look her in the eye and profess the nebulous depths of your infatuation without keeling over midsentence.

And this anxiety would be easier to conquer if the girl you had caught feelings for was a normie, or really any other outcast housed within Nevermore’s four walls.

But your crush was Wednesday Addams, and that more than justified the intense fear that came with the possibility of confessing.

For the past semester, Wednesday had been assigned to sit at your table in Botany, meaning that you two were almost always lab and project partners in that class. Throughout that time, she wasn’t exactly nice to you, but you’ve yet to be on the receiving end of her notoriously colorful threats, so you figured that put you somewhere friend-adjacent on the small girl’s relationship scale.

That made trying to confess to her no easier, however. Because she could literally just kill you if she decided it wasn’t good enough. If she decided you weren’t good enough.

You hoped knew she wouldn’t considering your short but cordial history, but she technically could.

Now despite her reputation (and the previously outlined possibility of murder), Wednesday never scared you. She certainly tried. You’d lost count of how many grisly medieval torture facts she offered up while working together, but they never had the intended effect of instilling fear into you. Not even once. The absurdity of it made you laugh more often than not.

But, while she didn’t scare you, she did intimidate you. Even now, months and a fully developed crush later, she could render you speechless with a single look.

That immediately did away with the possibility of a verbal confession since you were sure your vocal cords would cease operation before you could even properly start, leaving you staring at her like an idiot. So you were left to figure out another way. And after days of careful deliberation, you decided upon the vessel with which you would confess your feelings.

A poem.

Yes, it was stupid and cliché, but it was something you were familiar with, and you figured Wednesday might have at least some appreciation for it considering she herself was an aspiring writer. But very soon, you came face to face with a problem.

Wednesday herself constantly strived for perfection in every facet of life, so you knew that if anyone were to attempt to court her, she would be expecting no less from them as well.

Everything about this poem—diction, rhythm, rhyme, form—had to be superlative, efficient while effectively flawless.

It needed to be perfect and you just…couldn’t get it there.

Attempt after attempt wound up in your garbage, the papers overflowing out of the small pail by your desk while your hope slowly diminished with each failure. After the 27th trashed page, you knew you needed to stop and recoup.

This approach obviously wasn’t working, so you had to find a different one and to do that, you needed incentive. You needed inspiration. You needed the creative ascension that came with reading good, fresh poetry.

The only issue was that all of your poetry collections were well-worn, memorized from cover to cover. Though you could never tire of them, you knew they wouldn’t provide the spark of creativity you needed.

So you took a trip to the small bookstore in Jericho since the school library had very little in the way of poetry and picked up a few that caught your eye.

You were on your way to catch the shuttle back when you heard it.

A high-pitched yip rose from the alley you had just walked past, making you pause. Curious (and without much else to do), you stepped back to peer into the alley, and you let out a gasp.

Just down the alleyway was a small puppy, covered head to toe in gorgeous gold fur. A golden retriever, your mind helpfully supplied. He didn’t notice you, entirely too preoccupied tearing up an old newspaper to care about your gawking, but you were entranced.

And without your usual forms of impulse control (your teachers and parents) there with you, your mind was made up in an instant.

A twenty-minute trip to the local pet store saw you ready to leave town a few hundred dollars lighter and many bags heavier. You got all the essentials—food, toys, a collar and a leash, a bed, bowls, and whatnot.

All that was left was getting the dog.

Quietly approaching, you set your bags down against the mouth of the alleyway and crept closer to the puppy, careful not to startle him as he stalked a bug of some sort. Once you were within a few feet, you crouched and tore open one of the treat bags you bought. The noise got the retriever’s attention, and he stopped his pursuit to watch you, intrigued.

A soft smile made its way onto your face while you fished a treat out and held it out. It took no time at all for the pup to curiously trot over. He sniffed it for a moment, thoroughly inspecting the cookie before devouring it and looking back up at you expectantly, tail wagging furiously in the air behind him.

With a laugh, you offered him another one, then another, and another. And just like that, a friendship was formed.

The driver barely gave you a second glance when you waltzed into the shuttle with your bags and the dog, just waited for you to be seated and pulled off onto the main road. Definitely not protocol, but you imagined he wasn’t being paid nearly enough to care.

When Nevermore’s castle-like features came into view ten minutes later, you realized with a jolt that there was one thing you hadn’t accounted for: actually trying to smuggle this puppy into the school.

Given that the shuttle was already parked, you had no time for strategy. As you stepped back onto campus, your only plan was to make a mad dash for your dorm. And, after tucking the puppy inside your shirt, that’s exactly what you did. Or tried to do. You only got halfway through your journey when Yoko intercepted you in one of the halls.

“Hey! I see someone went shopping today,” she commented, giving the plethora of bags you were holding a humorous look. “Preparing for a zombie outbreak or something?”

“Something like that,” you answered, taking a step around her, but she moved with you and started matching your hurried strides.

“So, you ready for that Vampire Anatomy test tomorrow? Personally, I think I’m gonna ace it,” she smiled, fangs flashing in the overhead light. You shot her a look, because, of course, a vampire would ace that test.

You opened your mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of your tongue, but the pup chose that moment to show his restlessness, flailing his little limbs violently under the fabric of your shirt.

“Uh,” Yoko slowed at your side, brows drawn above her sunglasses. She pointed at your stomach, where the puppy was violently squirming. “What’s going on there?”

You glanced away, mouth opening and closing. Hard as you tried to come up with a plausible excuse, none came, so you said the first thing that came to mind.

“I’m pregnant.”

Poor Yoko looked positively baffled. You ran before she could say anything else.

The sprint back to your dorm was blessedly uneventful, allowing you to stumble inside with minimal issue. Thankfully, your roommate was out, so you wouldn’t need to deal with any more questions for the time being. You set the puppy down on the floor, letting him explore his new surroundings while you set his things up.

Once his bed, bowls, and toys were in place, your attention turned to another pressing issue. The pup needed a name.

Dozens of names crossed your mind in the minutes that followed, but none of them fit the energetic boy in front of you. Pondering, you watched leisurely as the retriever dragged his new leash across the floor. The sunlight pouring through the window softly bounced off his golden fur while he pranced around your room, leash still securely in his mouth.

A metaphorical light bulb clicked on and in that moment, you gave him the most beautiful, poetic name your mind graced you with.

-

“Choklit!”

The puppy in question froze and looked up at you, short tail wagging dutifully. He was already giving you his best puppy dog eyes, but you knew better than to fall for them. You moved to stand in front of him, hands on your hips.

“We’ve talked about this. Edgar Allen Poe’s collected works are not a chew toy!” You moved the book away from him, held up a blue squeaky toy in its place. “This is what you play with, got it?”

He offered you a yip in response, tail wagging a mile a minute as you handed him the bone-shaped toy. “And remember, play lightly!” you tagged on as he tumbled off his bed.

Principal Weems hesitantly allowed you to keep the puppy on the agreement that your roommate agreed to him (which she did, ecstatically) and that he not be too loud in the room. By some miracle of god, you had been able to abide by that rule for the past two weeks.

Hopefully, your luck would persist.

With him placated, you turned back to the task at hand—finishing your poem. It was coming together, a solid vision of your end goal forming. And after another ten minutes of brainstorming the last line—a woefully overdramatic would you go on a date with me? that hopefully wouldn’t get you killed in your sleep—it was finished.

You pushed back against your desk and leaned your head against the back of your chair, taking a moment to rest. Then, sitting back up, you reread the poem carefully.

A wave of inadequacy crashed into you as you ran back through the words you just wrote. Something about it just wasn’t right, but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what.

Was the rhythm off? Were the rhymes varied enough? Outside of that, was your prose structured competently? Was the poem too much? Was it not enough? Five rereads only heeded more questions and no answers.

Frustrated, you balled the paper up and threw it behind you, already priming another paper to begin the poem anew.

The telltale pattering of paws reached your ears, turning to find Choklit nosing at the crumbled paper. With a sigh, you walked over and went to pick it up. “Sorry, bud, but my personal failures as a poet are not your toys.”

Choklit, thinking it was a game, quickly snatched the ball up in his mouth and bowed, sending light growls your way. Though you knew it wouldn’t help, you raised your hands in surrender and leaned back.

“I’m not trying to play. I just need that—” You tried to swipe it from his mouth, but he bounced backward and rushed toward the door.

At that exact moment, your roommate returned from choir practice, opening the door just in time for Choklit to run out with the paper in tow. You scrambled to your feet, edging past her into the mostly empty hallway.

“Sorry!” she yelled after you, to which you just waved.

“It’s fine! I got him,” you threw back at her just before you turned a corner in pursuit of the retriever.

You had to admit, the little guy was fast. Faster than you thought he would be (or maybe you just needed to exercise more…who knew). Bewildered students parted for you as you gave chase, giving them a quick thank you! as you kept your eyes on the golden blur ahead.

He toppled down another hallway, one you knew led to a dead end. You grinned and picked up the pace, intent on scooping him up, only to skid to a sudden stop after you turned the corner.

Because there Choklit was, sniffing around at familiar black boots while pale hands smoothed out the paper the puppy dropped before her. You were frozen, trying to figure out whether this was real or some terrible lucid dream.

Wednesday’s cold timbre inadvertently answered your question.

“I didn’t think they allowed dogs on campus,” the girl remarked, giving the puppy at her feet an inquisitive look. Your response came without thinking.

“You live with a werewolf, don’t you?” Your eyes widened. The comment was meant as a joke but could easily be interpreted as an insult. And knowing how close the two had gotten over the past few months, the last thing you wanted to do was accidentally mock Enid.

You watched Wednesday closely, but the only physical response you received was the slightest raise of her brows.

“That was almost funny.” Her words were delivered with her trademark deadpan stare, but you could hear the slightest hint of humor threaded into her neutral tone. Looking for attention, Choklit stood on his hind legs and pawed at Wednesday’s shin, giving her a clear view of the tag on his collar. The disapproval in her voice was clear as day. “You named it…Choklit?”

You gave a half-hearted shrug, pulling out a grin full of confidence you absolutely did not feel. “Can’t be a literary genius all the time.”

“I’m sure,” she retorted sarcastically, holding your unsure gaze for another moment before turning back to the paper in her hand. You followed her eyes and stepped forward with a grimace.

“Sorry, that’s… you weren’t supposed to see that.” You tried to take the paper, but Wednesday stepped back, moving the paper out of your reach.

“It’s addressed to me.”

“That it is,” you conceded with a sigh, “but it was never intended to actually be delivered to you.”

Wednesday hummed. “Well, it seems your dog disagrees.” With that, she turned her attention to the poem. You were tempted to try and take it again, but you liked having your hand attached to your body, so you resisted.

Impatiently, you waited as her eyes ran along the lines slowly, your anxiousness building with every passing moment of excruciating silence until finally, she met your gaze once more.

“A few things to note,” she began, tone much too studious for the occasion. “I applaud the fact that you made the decision not to write a sonnet. They’re easily the most overblown, abominable form of poetry and I would have had to burn this if it was.”

She gave you a small nod. “Now, I will say that I’m a bit disappointed. This certainly could have been written in perfect rhyme rather than end rhyme, but since you said this wasn’t your final draft, I’m willing to give you a pass for this oversight. Mostly. And while AABB isn’t the most complex rhyme scheme, it’s just tolerable enough here to not detract from the poem as a whole.”

You gaped. She was making the same type of comments that your teachers would when they graded your assignments. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was reading off the notes from a book report and not talking about a literal love confession.

The ridiculousness of the situation pulled a wry laugh from your throat, but you were quickly silenced with a harsh glare. Once you quieted, she continued, “The biggest problem I see is that this poem is lacking in length, having only a measly 12 lines. A few more couplets would have made this feel more complete.”

“Now onto the poem itself. Though your vernacular pales in comparison to mine, I will admit that your vocabulary is surprisingly expansive considering what you named your pet.” She sent Choklit a pointed look. “Furthermore, I appreciate the use of alliteration in lines like ‘A mind molded by misery and mischief’ and ‘Down into the dark depths of a dreadfully early grave’ but feel it could’ve been utilized more throughout. The mixture of masculine and feminine rhyme is interesting, though choosing one could have aided with overall cohesion.”

You just stood and stared, silently taking in her thoughts and critiques because it was all you could do. She paused, folded the paper neatly in her hand, but still didn’t give it back to you.

“In conclusion, parts of this are noticeably undercooked, but the simple act of reading it doesn’t make me want to purge my insides. I acknowledge the effort you put forth to tailor this poem to me and my interests and will admit that being described as ‘the purest of darkness personified’ is almost flattering.”

A nervous chuckle escaped before you could quell it, but this time she allowed it, her stare remaining blank. You cleared your throat, injected some joviality into your tone. “Great, so uh…do I get an A+?”

“B-, actually,” she amended, running over the folded page with her eyes. “Maybe even a C+.”

At that point, you swore you could feel the humiliation seeping into the very essence of your being. But you were determined not to let it show, to preserve what tiny amount of dignity you had left.

“Okay, well, I’m just gonna take that back and then go vanish off the face of the Earth so we never have to see each other again.” You gave her a pained smile and reached for the paper, only for her to snatch it out of your reach with a glare.

She glanced down to Choklit, who was seemingly enjoying the drama as his eyes ping-ponged between you two, then to the paper again. Another long moment passed before she looked back at you.

“I never said no.”

You blinked a few times, confused. “What?”

“The proposition outlined at the end of the poem,” she clarified, “I never said no.”

“You…” you began to repeat but trailed off as the realization of what she was implying really began to sink in. “Wait, I—you…you can’t possibly mean…”

Growing visibly impatient, Wednesday cut off your verbal meltdown. “Meet me outside the school gates after light’s out this Saturday. I get to pick the activity.”

The unsettling smile she gave you felt like a bad omen, but you couldn’t care less, still fighting off the incredulity clouding your mind. You opened your mouth to respond but when no words came, you settled for a hurried nod.

“Good,” Wednesday peered out the window momentarily. “Now, I must be going. Eugene is expecting me. I will see you Saturday and if you’re late then you’ll be the next autopsy I perform.”

Carefully, she stepped around your puppy and walked off without another word, leaving you to ponder what the hell just happened.

“Oh my god,” you whispered to no one in particular. Again, louder this time, “Oh my god!” At the sound of your excitement, Choklit came scampering over and you bent down to meet him. He stood on his hind legs, bracing his front paws on your knee. “Did you hear that, boy? The poem actually worked!”

He gave you a yip in return, tiny tail a blur behind him. You rubbed your hand along his back, chuckling at the fervent licks your hands received in return.

Only after a student skirted past you both did you realize that you were still in the middle of a hall. You promptly scooped Choklit up with both hands and cradled him by your chest, looking down at him as you began your way back to your dorm.

“Come on, let’s go get some treats. I owe you big time, buddy.”