#so they are just a little :( instead of actually freaking out

[therobotmonster]

Once you believe in one kind of magic, it's real easy to think other kinds exist, even if they're blatantly fictional and would normally be outside the kayfabe of the whole thing because there's an actual name on the by-line.

But the 'theology' shakes out pretty predictably. Tricking kids into worshiping the devil because of a tabletop game makes no real sense in the larger scheme.

It's just an easy-to-defeat foe picked by the local would-be-Oz-the-Great-And-Powerful, something that freaks out the parents but has no real money or power behind it to oppose you. They always pick kid/teen interests because the parents don't care about the banned music/cartoon/toy/game, the only people that do are the kids who have no power. It's always "Pokemon is a world of the demonic" and not "your obsession with the local football team is a form of idolatry" because adults, who can choose, might choose to spend their tithes on extra Cowboys merch if forced to choose between Jesus and coach.

And the 'they're going for your kids' thing is just extra grease on the paranoia-to-payola slippery slide.

As the choice of target is entirely cynical and arbitrary, some kind of justification has to be summoned. The motivations of both the spirits and humans involved don't make sense because the problem is entirely imaginary, so they have to bend the world-building to make the villain's plans work in a sort of narrative special pleading.

So satanism can't be what it is (atheists fucking with you because its fun and sets advantageous case law), and artists can't use symbols specifically to provoke and mock, because that would make the whole thing deeply un-threatening.

And worship itself has to become some kind of energy-transfer because otherwise the evangelical canard of being 'tricked into worshiping a demon' makes no sense, and that's their answer for everything from the Hindu pantheon to the Catholic saints.

Lets say, hypothetically, I'm a demon, and I want to get a human to worship me to hork off o'l Nah-way and get him to throw them in the lake of fire. Well, I go to some guy and I say, "hey, I'm a god, my name is Hermes, worship me" and the chump falls for it. Then he builds a little statue (or a bunch of little statues of just a part of someone with some wings) and starts revering it as a god.

That guy isn't worshiping me, he's worshiping the mask I used to trick him. He has no actual loyalty or love for the creature that I am or my goals. I may cost him access to the 'real' theology by providing a fake one, but that's it. This is no different for him than if he hallucinated his own god, or was given a false one by his culture. You can worship something that's not there, but you can't worship something without knowing it.

Unless, of course, worship isn't "strong feelings of loyalty mixed with ritualized suspension of dignity" but instead a form of transference of quintessence from the worshiper to the worshiped. That also gives you a little extra buffer against the 'what if our god isn't the real one" if religions don't happen organically but are instead a form of metaphysical identity-theft.

The problem being that, as Evangelical Christians mostly steeped in the Bible, so most of their world building is only up to the shoddy standards of the thing that inspired it, a book that famously states you can make goats striped by having their parents stare at barber poles while they mate. A book written by a civilization of goatherds.

It's fascinating how a lot of Evangelical Christian anxiety about Satanism seems to be rooted in the unspoken idea that if the Devil gathers enough worship he'll depose God and become the new God, because that's not the party line in any major religion, but it is how it works in Dungeons & Dragons.

[triglycercule]

killer being like "yeah i know every single little thing about horror and dust" (because he watches them as a part time hobby (freak) (find something better to do)) and then he acts surprised when they do something that he wouldnt expect them to do in his little predetermined absolutely perfect concept of them

like what do you MEAN horror licks spoons clean when he's using them so he doesn't have to get a completely different one for the main course and the dessert. what do you MEAN dust has a lisp even though he speaks fluently and uses even more complex words than killer himself. horror knows how to sew and he often patches up their things without either of them noticing?? dust always wears oversized and clothes that cover him up just because he finds it comfy?? what??? out ra geous???? these guys have small little quirks to them that killer doesn't already know about???? killer immediately wants to know more. so he can expand his internal profile of them of course. not for any other more endearing and sweet reason. not at all,,,,,,,, (:3)

[brown-little-robin]

it went fine yesterday btw :}

[bookrat]

Pretty sure my little man has a case of abundism affecting the marble tabby coat under all those white splotches

[clementinebriar]

Graham says the duck thing again, and she almost checks out of the conversation right then and there. It’s only his explanation almost immediately afterward that gets her to stick around, though she does throw Graham a look of slight derision when he further insists his grandmother would like her. Guy probably doesn’t realize just how much he tends to get under people’s skin — thinks she’s starting to get under his, in fact, with her quip about Alec. It’s a fact of life, much like anything else is: the sky is blue, the grass is green, and eventually Clementine Wood gets hard to swallow. So she waves the notion off again, as she’d rather not be humiliated in front of someone the Lacrosse King talks about with such fucking reverence. “I’ll take a rain check,” she says, though doesn’t point out that the rain check will most likely never come. She won’t insult Graham’s intelligence — he could very well know she’s bullshitting him. But the fact remains she doesn’t really care, does she?

She’s especially bitter now that Graham tries to one-up her in terms of friendship with Alec — we go way back, he says, and Clem can do little else but scoff. “Yeah? So why’s he never mentioned you before?” she asks, voice posed as a challenge. “I’ve known him since we were in diapers, Oswald. He’s had plenty of opportunities to say something about you to me.” Alright, that’s unfair. Alec could very well have mentioned Graham at some point to Clementine — and it could have very well been during one of the times she’d tuned him out, which happened more often than not in high school.

But she’s not going to concede to that point — she’s stubborn, and a bitch, and it’s better Graham gets that now than before he wears her down enough to maybe actually get her to accept dinner with him and his grandma. Besides, she and Alec were practically thrust out of their mothers’ wombs inseparable — despite how much shit they give each other, Clementine doesn’t think there’s anyone she’d so readily go to bat for. “So if you’re just making shit up to take the heat off you, try something else,” she sniffs haughtily, taking the photo paper without much fanfare, balancing it against her hip as she gives Graham a long, skeptical once-over. 

Then the guy says sorry, and Clementine wants to pull her hair out. Can’t he just be a dick? It’d be much easier to end this conversation on a less culpable note if he could just stick to being some busy-body asshole who’s been wasting her time. Instead, he’s inviting her to dinner with his grandmother, apologizing for inadvertently insulting the most important person in her life, and still giving her free photo paper. Jesus Christ, Clem’s a fucking monster, comparatively. “Just—” she huffs, frustrated. “Whatever, it’s fine, could you just—” she waves her arms around, photo paper and all, gesturing wildly at the man in front of her. “I don’t know, call me a bitch or something? You’re freaking me out.”

"duck a l'orange," he repeated, as if that would make any difference. "it's roast duck with an orange glaze. a julia child original recipe that will blow your mind!" when clem made the point about graham's grandmother hating her, he couldn't help but laugh a little. nana dottie was a lot of things, but she was even less pretentious than him most of the time. in a lot of ways, she was proper based on old-fashioned notions of how she should act in public. behind closed doors, she was much more relaxed and, honestly, cooler than graham was. "i was just trying to be nice... it's been so long since we actually talked to one another, and my grandmother always says the best way to get to know someone is to share a meal with them," the look on his face could have won him a runner-up title for 'best dejected puppy-like pout.' "nana dottie would not hate you, trust me. i actually think that she'll have wished that she had a grandchild like you. i wouldn't be surprised if she invited you to thanksgiving dinner."

alec was his friend, too, and although it's childish graham couldn't help but feel a bit possessive. "alec and i are 'fucking nerds,' as you so politely put it, together. we go way back, clem," he staked his claim to poking jabs at their shared friend. it wasn't like graham had been such an asshole in high school that he hadn't spent time with kids outside of the jock and cheerleader crowd. he had gone to alec's shows and hung out when it was just the two of them. "i love the guy, i'm not just trying to piss on his intelligence. it was just a joke, okay? even alec laughed it off," he adjusted his tie to avoid saying anything else that might hurt them both. "look, i am sorry... i guess i got too excited about catching up, i didn't think about how talking about your friend might hurt you."

he followed her into the copy room, his attention directed towards a fresh ream of the photo paper she had come for in the first place. "right, sorry, i forgot," he sheepishly apologized for the third time in the past couple of minutes. "i'm happy to supply photo paper whenever you need to stop by city hall. no one really uses the stuff anymore, anyways. we mostly use regular printer paper." graham grabbed the brand spanking new ream, plus the already opened stack, and handed them to clem. "i'm sorry for all the hassle, hopefully this was worth the walk and talk," he added as the fourth in a long line of owed apologies.

[iconless]

been workin on raging she-demon shimmer redesign for idk how long and i haven’t gotten to a design i like quite yet… any tips or suggestions ?

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[theburningeyeofdawn]

I'D'VE FOUND SOME OTHER SCHMUCK TO MAKE THAT PORTAL FOR ME AND WE BOTH KNOW THAT, FORDSY. STOP PRETENDING YOU'RE SUCH A SPECIAL GUY. THE ONLY THING THAT MAKES YOU SPECIAL IS THAT YOU WERE DUMB ENOUGH TO ACTUALLY FINISH THE PORTAL IN THE FIRST PLACE. AND IT WAS LIBERATED. NO RULES, NO RESTRICTIONS, NOTHING BUT WHAT I DIRECTED THERE TO BE. I WAS THE FEARED GOD-KING OF AN ENTIRE DIMENSION, YOU WERE, ARE, AND ALWAYS WILL BE A NOTHING, A FORGETTABLE FREAK WITH TOO MANY FINGERS. YOUR DAD SHOULDA KICKED YOU OUT INSTEAD OF YOUR IDIOT BROTHER, HE WOULDA HAD A BETTER CHANCE AT THAT WEALTH HE SO DREAMED IF HE HAD. YOU DO NOTHING BUT DRAG PEOPLE DOWN WITH YOU. REALLY? YOU'RE JUST NOW NOTICING THAT? OF COURSE I'M DELUSIONAL, I'M LITERALLY INSANE IN CASE YA SOMEHOW HAVEN'T NOTICED THAT LITTLE DETAIL YET.

"stop conversing with that Bill"

You mean @theburningeyeofdawn this one? But he's my popcorn buddy!! He's... well he's not really harmless but he's cool!

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[sophplanetoflove]

Why does love love peace peace have to be such a banger

Like Måns and Petra are literally mocking Eurovision in this but it actually slaps 💪💪

[elisedonut]

trying to decide if in a muggle ghost!au if I would want Percy to be the ghost or whoever i'm shipping him with in that moment

on one hand dead!Percy who died from like a sickness a hell of a long time ago like im talking 50-60 years not like a year ago ok cool fun interesting

especially when its like those situations where ghosts don't "wake up" (so to speak) immediately and so he's just is very confused why everything's so different and his family is gone and that there's some random person in his house, in his room. Ghosts have to work to be able to bee seen though so it takes a few weeks of Percy trying to do stuff to get them to notice him you know normal ghost shenanigans slamming cabinets, leaving notes on like mirrors, turning things on or off that kind of deal. anyway point is it doesn't work for a while because he has to figure out how to be corporeal.

so he ends up learning more about the person in the house with him and realizes that they seem really lonely. Percy never sees anyone else enter the house with them and they don't leave the house too often.

some character specific thoughts I have for potential non ghosty's

Oliver

played a sport professionally idk I've seen both rugby and soccer being like the replacement sport for quidditch regardless of which one i think he like broke a leg or something and cant play anymore so is now in strong depression

breaking a leg was very recent

doesn't react to Percy slamming things around because i think he's just kinda numb and doesn't really notice most of the time

but when Percy is finally able to show himself Oliver accepts fairly well because he thinks he's kinda just finally lost it

needs new special interest stat before he does something drastic

Marcus

Has an online job so legit just does not leave the house

moved as far from his family as he could after his Mother's death

jokes about there being a ghost before Percy figures out a corporeal form which causes Percy hope at first but is quickly dashed when Marcus just uses some random name

but because of him joking about it Marcus is more freaked out then Oliver would be when it becomes clear that there is indeed a ghost

i also really like the idea of someone slowly dying from something chronic that cant be fixed because then the problem of them being unable to be together gets fixed and then the other dies and they get to be reborn together or live out eternity as ghosties

[floral-hex]

ayyyyyyy I set up an appointment for medication this Friday (telemedicine but whatever) and I get to see my former therapist again later this month. I’m kind of excited. More than kind of. Little sad, but I’m lonely and want to talk to someone. He’s a real cool dude. I’m a little worried to trauma dump the last 6 months on him, but whatever, it beats sitting there for an hour feeling like I’m wasting his time and struggling to think of things to say. dang dang dang, I’m excited.

[tinylittlebab]

ill be skinny. it will happen. ive been trying for so long now. once it was just trying to eat less and be smaller but not much real focus on my physical appearance. now its all about that. 11 years of my ed and 7 years of wanting what i want now. i dont live with my parents anymore. i have more control. i will achieve it.

there was a time where id eat 300-700 consistently. ill get that back. i will.

[phagodyke]

was gonna say smth else but this turned into a vent sorry everyone just ignore. typical weekend post on this blog u know how it is here we go👍

[thethingything]

also shoutout to the hospital for sending us a bunch of PDFs with information about preparing for surgery and what to expect, except the information was all generic stuff where most of it does't actually apply to wisdom tooth removal, so I had a huge panic attack where I nearly threw up because a bunch of the stuff mentioned in there is extremely triggering for us, only to then find out that stuff literally doesn't apply anyway, but now I feel like I have even less of an idea of what to actually expect because it's so hard to figure out which information does apply

[shoechoe]

man i am glad i didn't get the tumblr layout update