#symbol-ground problem

[raffaellopalandri]

Not words, but ideas and then actions.

Daily writing promptWhat’s your favorite word?View all responses I have been asked, recently, if I had a favourite word. It seems like people today cannot live without creating lists of favourite items! Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com Whether it’s a favourite colour, food, or word, the question invariably arises. However, such inquiries often perplex me. Yet, having a favourite something, in my…

[scruncheduppaper]

drew this bc because i hate sitting thru chapel

[8cfc00]

they should make podcasts more visual for me specifically to have an easier time drawing fanart

[wizardnuke]

i love the empire kids so so much i feel like i am losing my gfuckinf mind. ohh my god empire kids

[hayanahed]

Emergency: Help Evacuate My Family From GAZA WAR

Dear Humanity,

I'm Haya from Gaza , from a family of 8 people: my parents, two sons, and four daughters (two of them suffer from allergies).

I've witnessed the evidence of the tragedy that has struck our lives in Gaza, where my family and I have survived amidst numerous previous wars. But today, we face the most dangerous and fierce battle in the current war. The urgent need intensifies for us, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water, and safe shelter.

Here is our story - On October 7th, our lives changed forever, my family and I evacuated from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but it wasn't meant to be. Our home was surrounded, burned, and then completely destroyed, Our home, once a fortress of hope, now lay in ruins, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams.

The night before we left from the north to the south was terrifying. Shelling sounds were everywhere, making a loud noise that felt like it went through our souls. Every explosions shook the ground like earthquakes, sending shockwaves of fear through our trembling bodies. filling us with fear. The air smelled of destruction and blood, making it hard to breathe. When dawn came, we saw the devastation around us, realizing our home was now a symbol of loss and despair.

We ran into the streets and with each step we took into the unknown streets, we felt as if we were plunging deeper into the abyss of our shattered existence, leaving behind everything we own in our home: Clothes, important official documents, the car, and literally it's almost everything - the enormity of our loss weighed heavily upon us.

Our home it was where we found hope, safety, and made precious memories. Losing it felt like losing years of our lives, leaving us adrift amidst the wreckage of our shattered existence.

A brief video depicting the devastation that struck our home and our entire neighborhood in Gaza.

Desperate Plea: Escaping Gaza's Allergy Nightmare

I, Haya, suffer from severe allergy to penicillin-derived medications, and my sister, Amal, also suffers from severe allergies to medications from my family such as Paracetamol and Ibuprofen.

These allergies create a deep sense of fear and anxiety for us, as we live in a constant state of tension and fear of anything that may require a visit to the hospital. We fear being given inappropriate medications due to the unavailability of suitable treatments in Gaza because of war or lack of awareness and not informing the doctor of our allergies, which could lead to serious consequences threatening our lives.

MY Father Income

Our dreams are heading towards oblivion in the labyrinth of an uncertain future

My story, along with my siblings, represents a united team of four individuals, three of whom are skilled programmers and one graphic designer. We work as freelancers in the world of freelancing.

As for my younger sister, she is a student studying at the College of Architecture. She has always carried a big dream in her heart, a dream of being part of changing Gaza, of making it more beautiful and better. She looked forward to the day when she would receive her degree and start building this dream. But the beginning of the war changed everything. The destruction of infrastructure and universities cast shadows of despair over her dreams.

When I think of my brother in Belgium, I can't help but feel deep sadness. He has been suffering from unbearable anxiety and insomnia since the outbreak of the war. Sleep eludes him at night, and his physical and mental health collapses under the weight of these heavy burdens, negatively affecting his performance at work. Problems and challenges pile up in front of him without the slightest opportunity for rest.

We all feel psychological pressure and extreme anxiety. The war hasn't been limited to external attacks but has deeply infiltrated our daily lives. We search among the rubble for a little safety and the basic resources for survival. Every day comes with a new challenge that we must overcome.

As we sway amidst the rubble of shattered dreams, our souls wrestle and our hearts beat strongly challenging the ravages of war.

Our parents earnestly seek a way to rescue us from this hell, feeling the heavy responsibility for every moment we spend under the shadows of fear and destruction. They dream of a safe place where they can build for us a better future, filled with security and hope, for we deserve life in all its meanings of comfort and peace.

Perhaps this fundraising campaign represents a light in the midst of darkness, it is indeed the only hope we cling to firmly.

I appeal to the world as a whole to hear my cry and the mournful cry of my family in Gaza. We need the helping hand that reaches out to wipe our tears and build a bridge to safety.

Your donation is not just a donation; it's an opportunity to rebuild life and brighten a better tomorrow. Be part of our hopeful story, for we need your hand to start anew.

The purpose of the fundraising campaign

The goal of this fundraising campaign is to rescue my family - my parents, my siblings, and me - through the Rafah Crossing to Egypt, which currently requires $5000 per person. This campaign is our only chance to stay alive, and I humbly request your assistance at this critical time. I will provide you with a comprehensive breakdown of the expenses, committing to transparency and clarity.

All of our important links are here https://linktr.ee/hayanahed

Verified by :

⭐️ operation olive branch, number 26 on their spreadsheet. (On Master list)

⭐️ Project watermelon,line 249 on their spreadsheet. Or you could see it as number 212 here is the photo for more clear proof

Thank you for your kindness and support.

.جزاكم الله خيراً

yours sincerely;

Haya Alshawish.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

meanwhile like computer: show me bmc boot....audience laughter after the opening line "jeremy....is in big bad trouble right now" like not that kind of In Trouble, potential misdirect, as is the misdirect that this will be a Sad Dad Ballad. kicking the tempo up for a cheerful anthem, being a dad is about the Supportive Actions & not the child deferring to a status as authority

[diorkittys]

somethin’ sweet before i go ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ vi + fem!reader

synopsis : when your arrest turns out to be an attractive, arrogant zaunite who’s, obviously, had a bad night, there’s one thing she asks for before being turned in. c’mon, can’t you give her something sweet before handing her to a cold cell?

—TW : kinda hate fucking , fingering , dom!vi , afab , post jinx attack

“hey, princess, any chance you’re sweet enough to loosen these up a bit?” your pinkette prisoner grunts, rolling a kink out her neck.

your expression is nothing short of unimpressed for the taunting games your newest problem has come up with. glaring up from your paperwork, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, “quit with the pet names—do you find your situation funny?” you turn around to face the arrogant zaunite, cuffed hands extended behind her back. you found it rather annoying how nonchalant she was—or worst, she found this amusing. “you are being detained for assault,” you continue, “that’s a night in jail, ‘sweet stuff.’” mocking her previous taunt.

she just scoffed, but it was far from being insulted. a sly smirk and dangerous blue eyes peaking beneath cherry strands looked up at you.

“ya’ think i’m sweet, princess?”

you hear the familiar clanking of metal rubbing against each other, bringing attention to her restraints.

“undo the cuffs and i’ll treat you sweet all nigh-“ her prurient statement cut off by the force of your forearm knocking into her chest, subsequently shoving her against the wall.

“you forget yourself, trencher,” your arm jabs in the smug, although rather charming (and quite attractive), outlaw’s chest, and her eye twitches in a wince. “you’re in my territory now—it’d suit you well to not make a fool of me; i’m sure you’ve been taught the same in that… mess of a city across the bridge.”

your tongue held venom as you almost seemingly spat out the insult like it was truly sickening to speak of. there’s an unspoken challenge being held between the both of your glares. you tack on a huff from your flared nostrils to seal the conversation and to warn the zaunite in front of you from talking back.

but as the tense silence subsides, the cherry-haired woman draws out a teasing smirk, scoffing again, “ever been to the undercity, sweet-cheeks?”

her question seemed more rhetorical than anything. you didn’t answer, clenching your jaw, keeping your eyes fixated on hers as to not give a look of submission. she took your quietness as a ‘no’ and raised a brow,

“thought so.”

she leaned her head in closer, as close as your arm would allow—although, there wasn’t much distance to set you apart anyways. her eyes lidded now as your confidence wavered from the almost predatory air hung around her; like when a lion, hidden in the tall grass, gets a perfect angle of their prey.

“they’d eat that pretty, little ass up as soon as you stepped foot beyond that bridge.”

you gasped, quietly, eyes widened at her obscene words. you could already feel your body betraying you, blood involuntarily heating up the plump of your cheeks.

the arm held sturdy against your prisoner was now weak, a second thought; not to her, no, that was accordingly.

calloused hands snaked their way to your waist, armored with enforcer gold, a symbol of integrity to wear, resolute.

your eyes flicked to the (god, she is attractive) woman near inches away; you were trapped in a lion’s den, she was already staring back at you.

“how di—when did you…”

so much for standing your ground—your stuttering voice gave it all away.

“what? get those things off?” she chuckled, motioning back behind her, “you were right ‘bout one thing, princess: i learned a whole deal in that ‘mess of a city’.”

she near whispered your quote, not hushed, but emphasized, troublingly so. her hands wandered, dangerously, coming to settle at the plush of your hips, hips that had you bent atop her. a deft thumb pushed pass your attire and gently circled into your bare skin.

“are you… are you gonna hurt me?” you pressed your lips in a fine line, apprehensively awaiting a dreaded answer.

but to your surprise, she paused, then snorted, and in a quick motion, she manhandled you to sit on her lap. you yelped in shock, your hands were rigid against her chest that you were so very close to now; stiff as a board as you feared for the worst.

“can’t a girl want somethin’ sweet before you send me to a cold, hard cell, huh?” now the finger in charge of exploring your supple skin came to swipe at your plush bottom lip. “but if you want it to hurt i can make that happen too.” her voice was sultry, thick with an insatiable desire.

your proximity gave you a chance to see the small initial tattooed on her cheek, “vi.” you spoke out loud, really only for you to memorize.

vi smirked, “yeah, princess? don’t wear it out just yet.”

your brows furrowed, pursing your lips; you tried to move, but vi had a firm hold on your hips that just wouldn’t let up… (not that you even tried that hard). “piltover station will be here soon… we can’t—i can’t be seen like this; this is unprofessional.”

“when’d you make that call?” honestly, vi was barely listening to your reluctance and excuses, busying herself with unfastening your gold belt that you hardly even noticed.

“an hour ago.”

“then we have an hour to ourselves. c’mon, do you really think ‘proper piltover station’ is any more worried about a call for an undercity scum than the rest of the hundred they receive a day? they’re preoccupied with the councilors after that attack… seems to me like they left you out the loop, hot stuff.”

you took offense to her insulting jab at your importance, disregarding her sing-song mockery of addressing piltover station. you reached for her wrist that was unbuttoning the blue fabric of your enforcer two-split skirt, “what is that supposed to mean?”

she took no notice to your grip and pushed aside the outer garment, glancing back up at you through that addictive, crimson hair. she gave a dry smirk, “didn’t mean to rile you up, princess—just meant that i could treat you better than them.”

that betraying flush tickled your cheeks once again, and you, rather hesitantly, let way of your grasp, allowing her to do what she needs.

she snorted, in an amused manner, tapping your thigh, “sit up.” how shameful it was for you, an enforcer, to take commands from anyone else—let alone an… undersider. yet, here you were, standing upright as she told you to, albeit a little more eager than intended; you hoped she hadn’t noticed.

she noticed.

her legs spread out on the chair, making her appear even larger than her stature gave her credit for. she bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she pulled at the hem of your khaki shorts. you assisted and looped two thumbs at the waistband to shimmy down your legs. your shorts pooled at your feet and vi leaned back to admire the sexy sight she had in front of her with a grin on her face.

a pretty enforcer, nervous as can be, with a half-undone uniform and pink, lace panties exposed just for her. what a contrasting view. you were captivating. already trained to take orders like a puppy, she’d think in her crude mind; you’d be her good girl for a while, you’d be so good for her.

with two fingers, she motioned for you to come sit back down on her lap; the way her legs manspread was inviting enough. you obliged, holding onto her broad shoulders.

those engrossing fingers came back to handle your hips, slowly moving to cup the mound of your ass and kneading. you huffed, painted nails digging into her trapezius.

“ya’ like pink, princess?” she mentioned your cute, lacey panties; although, now stained a darker shade.

your eyes flickered up to her hair before timidly searching anywhere else to keep your focus busy. vi found that cute, not admitting that that turned her on way more than it should.

“i don’t disdain it.” you purse your lips, “and quit calling me that.”

vi chuckled, “but you’re poised, like a princess.”

“you have no idea of me.”

“well, i know you’re risking your title just so i can get you off,” fingers go to trace the hem of your panties, her middle drags along your clit muffled by the fabric. she grins, “and by the looks of it, you’re enjoying the thrill.”

you gasp at the sensation, a feeling your pussy was aching for. “is it because you know we might get caught? geez, princess, you into that kind of thing?” she almost laughs at you, but not to mock you; she finds that hot as fuck.

adept hands push the annoying polyester to the side. fingers, rather spider-like, creep over your throbbing cunt; middle and index gather your pooling slick to act as lube as she glides over your clit.

you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you find your legs begin to tremble, being forced open by her own, keeping you spread for her to do as she likes.

“i didn’t know topsiders could be so dirty.” this time she does laugh. she rubs at your clit long enough for your heart rate to pick up, long enough for your head to find stability on her shoulder, long enough for you to become a mess in her hands… but, not long enough for you to get off just yet.

vi reaches down to your neglected hole, pressing her index atop it, deep enough for an audible squelch to echo through your office, which in turn makes vi groan. you mewl, nails digging deeper into the muscle of her back.

“not so poised now, though.” she mutters, mostly to herself. with your dripping slick, it takes nothing more than a swift movement for vi to slide her index inside you, bottoming out knuckles deep. you keen, arching off her chest. the scratch from her bandages only added fuel to the fire.

“fuck.” vi’s grip on your hip strengthens, almost certainly leaving a prominent bruise later. “do that for me again, princess.”

and she didn’t have to ask because as she pulls her finger almost fully out, tantalizingly slow, she greedily shoves it right back in, curling the tip of it to hit in that, god, that perfect spot you know so well.

and, again, you keen, long and guttural—like a silent scream. subconsciously, your pelvis bucks into her hand, searching for more than you could even take.

after a few minutes of this, vi deems herself your voice and determines you’re ready for two. she pulls out entirely, much to your dismay, teasing you with a pause.

you brace yourself for something that never comes, and you huff, slightly pushing yourself up off her shoulder,

“vi… don’t st—“

and she stuffs her middle and index into your pretty, impatient pussy.

“ah!”

“who said i was stopping, pumpkin? we just started.” you slam your head back to its assigned spot.

vi thought she was right in this moment: you looked a complete and utter mess. it was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, it was another thing that she had a topsider, an officer—someone who, to piltover, was a woman of dignity and honor… a rich, privileged somebody who hated zaunites, found them filthy and worthless…hunched over her shoulder with a sopping cunt you were practically begging her to abuse. now that’s ironic. (and was you coming undone for her maybe a little bit of a victory for her hatred of topside, that she was degrading—fucking someone so noble?)

“shit, baby,” vi cursed, biting her lip. her whole train of thought did nothing but make her more horny, and she pumped extra hard this time, making sure even the graze of her knuckle filled you up.

“when’s the last time someone’s fucked you like this?” she chuckled—you hated her smug little laugh.

you sneered, just not before you moaned into the crook of her neck, breath fanning over her black-inked tattoos. “that’s, fuck, none of your concern, underside.” you spat, but, really, your words held no weight, not like this.

“hey, no need for the name calling, princess; if you’re a virgin too that’s totally fine—honestly kinda hot.” she teased, grabbing the mound of your ass to raise you up and slam back down on her fingers. you cried, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in that (rememberable) cherry hair.

“i’m not!—i’ve had—ugh! i’ve done this plenty of times… not that, ah, you should need to know.”

“oh yeah? you fuck a lot of your inmates then?… or is that just my privilege?” vi leaned into your ear, knowing that’d get you going. and what do you know? it did.

and you would’ve argued back, head picked up and everything, had she not curled her fingers the way she did or twist to find an ever better playing field or, god! even the lechery in her voice had you toppling over, had you right there! yes, fuck, right there!

“fuck, vi, right there! keep going! yeah, right there, ugh!” you moaned, legs shaking, trying desperately to close and hide away from how fucking good this felt.

you bucked into her hand and you didn’t have to tell vi twice because she was already pumping extra hard and faster than before, with a combination of her thumb rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

“shit, princess. almost there?” she already knew the answer. she was groaning as if she was fucking herself; just the pure sight of you, of this, was enough… although, she’d need to engrave this memory into her brain and use it later to get off herself (she could use this picture of you to get off for years it felt like).

“vi!”

you sang like gospel, pulling her hair like you’d fall if you hadn’t. you came hard, right on her bandaged fingers and she road you through it until the only thing you could hear in the room was the lewd, wet noises coming from your hole.

she stuffed you full of your own juices and at that point, you couldn’t tell if that or her hands were more filling.

you were both panting, one more than the other. vi hoisted your left leg over hers to hold you bridal style as you settled down. bringing her hand to the light, she pulled apart her middle and index to watch your slick web between them and she weakly laughed.

blue eyes looked over to the gold, industrial clock you had sitting on your work-desk, reading a quarter til’ 12. she sighed, picking you up with her before setting you on the chair you had originally handcuffed her to.

“looks like i gotta go, princess.” she feigned innocent, as if this whole interaction was a drive by. one by one she picked up discarded clothing and crouched at your legs to dress you back up. you, too tired to protest to being treated like a child, let her dress you like a doll, even buckling up your belt.

you watched as she went to write something on a piece of sticky note paper you had sitting by your confidential files before turning to walk out the door, running a hand through her hair.

“you can’t leave—you’re… you’re under arrest.” there was no confidence in your tone, just a fucked out raspy voice.

vi stopped before leaving, hands in her pockets, “tell ‘em officer kiramann already came to pick me up, they won’t give you trouble.” she threw the hood of her red jacket over her head, reaching for the doorknob.

“oh, and… meet me at my place if you wanna do this again… okay, princess?”

[bugflies00]

one of the things i love the most about dsmp is the fact that no one has the same version of it. the most obvious example is which streamer's POV you watched, but it goes way beyond that because mcrp requires a level of suspension of disbelief and also of filling in the gaps, fleshening things out, in order to make it usable for fancontent.

for example, the fact that apart from the minecraft skin there is no actual guideline for how to see the characters, hence the dsmp creaturification of fan designs we've been over a million times. but it's not just that!!

the fandom also has so many different relations to time in the dsmp. some take the canon timeline but then you run into problems like c!fundy's age — so then either he's actually a 20 year old that c!wilbur adopted and treats like a baby, or perhaps fox hybrids have a very abrupt exponential growth spurt, or perhaps l'manberg wasn't a few months but a few years!

and then this brings into question the matter of scale — how populated is the server? is it truly only the actual streamers/characters, and so when we talk about a "war" do we really just mean like 10 people fighting each other with swords? or perhaps there's a couple dozen, unnamed, background characters? and i've seen people increase the scale even more! make l'manberg a real, albeit obviously small and budding, country-city of a few hundred inhabitants, that perhaps grows into a lifesize scale fortified city during new l'manberg.

and then everything takes on such a different tone. if theres 30 people on the server, the final control room was a betrayal and destruction of friendships, november 16th was the grief and anger for a friend and the symbolic destruction of the country, and doomsday was another symbolic show of whose alliances everyone values, and the weariness of having to rebuild it. if there's a few thousand people? all of those were massacres.

how can we even be talking about the same characters when for some of us the worst they've done is blow up some houses with no cost of lives, and for others they have razed to the ground actual nations? depending on how you read it and how much you flesh it out, dsmp is either mainly about symbols and interpersonal relationships, or it can be some game of thrones shit. it's completely fucking mental. i'm so in love with it

[narxcisse]

★ — Their love language.

With: Viktor, Jayce, Mel, Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx, Ekko, Ambessa, Silco, Vander and Sevika.

CW: fluff

English isn't my native language

— VIKTOR

Acts of Service: He shows love through thoughtful gestures. He’ll fix things for you, build gadgets to make your life easier, or help with your projects, even when he's exhausted.

Quality Time: Despite his workaholic tendencies, Viktor makes time to share quiet moments, like stargazing on a Piltover rooftop or sharing ideas late at night.

— JAYCE

Words of Affirmation: He never hesitates to remind you of how amazing you are, always showering you with compliments and encouragement.

Physical Touch: Expect warm hugs, hand-holding, and soft kisses—He's physically expressive when it comes to love.

— MEL

Gift Giving: She spoils you with lavish and thoughtful gifts, each one a token of her affection. From expensive jewelry to custom art, she enjoys making you feel valued.

Quality Time: Despite her busy schedule, she prioritizes spending meaningful time with you, whether it’s an elegant dinner or quiet moments in private.

— VI

Physical Touch: Vi is all about physical affection—whether it’s playful wrestling, protective hugs, or holding your hand like it’s second nature.

Quality Time: She values time spent together, even if it’s just hanging out, talking about the past, or sharing a drink at a bar.

— CAITLYN

Acts of Service: She expresses her love by doing things for you, like solving your problems or using her status to make life easier. She’s always looking out for your well-being.

Words of Affirmation: Her words are genuine and tender, often leaving you feeling seen and appreciated. She believes in constant communication.

— JINX

Gift Giving: She gives chaotic but heartfelt gifts—explosive trinkets, odd art pieces, or handmade gadgets. They may be unconventional, but they’re always full of thought.

Physical Touch: Hugs that sweep you off your feet, cuddles where she clings to you like a koala, or playful pokes are Jinx’s way of saying “I love you.”

— EKKO

Quality Time: Ekko enjoys showing you his world, from the Firelight tech to their hideout. He makes you feel included in every part of his life.

Acts of Service: He loves to lend a helping hand. Whether you’re working on a project or struggling with a problem, he’s always there to assist.

— AMBESSA

Gift Giving: She expresses her affection through grand gestures and extravagant gifts, symbolizing her power and devotion.

Physical Touch: She's tactile and commanding in her affection—hand on your shoulder, brushing your hair, or kissing your hand with pride.

— SILCO

Words of Affirmation: Silco’s love is expressed through carefully chosen words that highlight his admiration and protectiveness. His compliments are rare but profound.

Acts of Service: He ensures your safety and well-being, often going out of his way to shield you from harm or provide resources to make your life better.

— VANDER

Acts of Service: He's protective and practical in his love, making sure you’re cared for in every possible way. He’ll cook for you, fix things, or keep you out of harm’s way.

Quality Time: He treasures time spent together, whether it’s sharing stories over drinks or sitting quietly in the Last Drop.

— SEVIKA

Physical Touch: Sevika’s affection is expressed through steady, grounding touches—a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, or a kiss that feels both protective and passionate.

Acts of Service: She shows love by being your steadfast protector, always ensuring your safety and comfort, even if it means putting herself in harm’s way.

[sbcdh]

I believe the English phrase is “odd duck.” Yes. Jan Kargad was an Odd Duck. He was born in 1922, right after Georgia joined the Soviet Union, in a commune outside of Batumi. But this was not a normal commune no. His parents were strange people. A small group of Dutch fuckers, very protestant people, started a winery in the countryside where they could read their bibles. You would think they did not get along with the Marxists, but you would be wrong. They loved work. The bible loved work. There was no problem.

Well, that is not entirely true. Jan was a bit of a problem. He was born with a “weak constitution.” We do not know what that meant exactly, but farmwork would give him seizures and very high fevers. He was not a good child for farm work. So, they taught him arithmetic. Young Jan was in charge of counting grapes and bottles of wine and so on. Maybe the Apparatchik did not mind a child doing all the counting, maybe he was bribed, maybe he did not give a shit. I do not know. But Jan was in charge of all the counting and, what is the fucking word- logistics. Yes. Logistics. And he was very good at logistics. 

There are theories as to his upbringing yes. Studying the bible alongside Marx and Lenin and so on. But I do not believe this. In Chechnya in those days many studied the bible and Marx like Jan Kargad, but we did not become like Jan Kargad. I think perhaps it was the fevers. One sees things with a fever when it is bad enough, yes. 

Kargad also studied the capitalists. He was very good at this. He read Adam Smith, but also Issac Newton, the South Seas bubble, and most famously the Tulip Panic. They say his journals were filled with pressed tulips. He was a bit of a, what is the fucking English word- pervert. A pervert for organizing things and numbers and so on. Jan Kargad loves logistics like a man loves his wife, and tulips are a symbol of this for him. They became a microcosm for him. You see how the bud unfolds into many petals, its is very similar to how capitalism unfurls into its many aspects in the world. But, I am getting ahead of myself. 

One day, after all of his schooling, Kargad has a terrible fever, more terrible than any fever he has ever had. This is in the early 1940s some time. After this fever he becomes strange. Well, stranger than he already was. He speaks of men with golden dog masks, their necks chained to the sun, tulips growing from their eyes, all of that shit. He never goes outside again. He becomes fearful of the sun. He does not let it touch his skin. 

He writes intensely for the next three years. I have seen his original notebooks and they are stained with sweat. This man is not well, but he writes. He does not get help, because he is very good at analyzing agricultural output. I believe it grounded him some how, to spend days without sleep, reading spreadsheets about grapes and wheat and so on. 

He is no longer christian. He throws out all of the crosses in his home, and replaces them with grape-cutters. They are similar to a sickle, but with a long handle, for reaching up and cutting off high bunches of grapes. He becomes obsessed with this idea of the grape cutter, and he begins to paint. And this is where many first learn of him. He influences a group of artists who become famous in the southern soviet union, though they are occasionally derided as being “mystical.” I personally? I love the drawings. Many figures reaching up to pluck grapes from the sun. It becomes the central theme of his work.

Here people discover his strange writings. But first he is considered a strange mystic. His early writings are still very christian yes, and this influences how he is read in the west. Many think he is speaking of hyper-economics or whatever fetishistic bull shit the americans are calling it. But I do not think so. His work is very soviet. There are stories yes, of good soviet men drinking coffee and loving spreadsheets like a man loves his wife, and in this they become a little bit like Jan Kargad. They are –you do not have an English term for this– cutting grapes from the sun. But this is not a serious phrase you understand. These men are perverts.

[solargeist]

an hour or so in update: I’m so scared of this Fucking Horse

I haven’t played Mouthwashing yet but every time I see it I’m like ? Why is everyone being mean to Curly . He does not even have any skin

[adieutristana]

getting married headcanons / arcane women x fem! reader

the thought of marriage and weddings have been on my mind for weeks now and i’m not sure why, but i’m a sap like that. i also haven’t been able to find many fics in the arcane tags about marriage so i figured i’d write my own :)

i’m getting to requests as quickly as possible! my first final is this friday and i’m kinda freaking out. things should speed up once im on winter break!

summary: headcanons of what it would be like marrying arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

tags/warnings: fluff. SO much fluff. mentions of (happy) crying, mentions of drinking, s2 spoilers / mentions of death (caitlyn), slight hurt/comfort

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* you had spoken of marriage before, and every time you did, jinx became incredibly emotional. the girl had never seen marriage as something in the cards for her. a master criminal, a symbol, a living martyr? sure. but never a wife. so when you brought up the fact that you one day wanted to marry her, she was inconsolable in the best way possible.

✧.* to think that someone loved her enough to want to marry her, to want to spend the rest of their life by her side was unreal. she never thought she would have that.

✧.* so naturally, when you got down on one knee in front of jinx and opened a velvet box, presenting her with a shining diamond- jinx was in hysterics. she immediately broke into a fit of tears. blubbering, she nodded frantically, shakily taking your hands in hers. you felt a few tears of your own fall from your eyes as you slipped the ring onto her finger.

✧.* "yes, yes, yes- oh god, yes, i want to marry you. are you sure, though? i mean... will i make a good wife? are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody like me?"

✧.* "yes, jinx. i want all of it. all of the chaos, all of the mischief and adventure. all of you."

✧.* jinx immediately makes it a point to show off her brand-new, shiny ring to absolutely everyone. she’s engaged now, and she’s gonna make it everybody’s problem. she would go into sevika’s usual spot- a local casino just to track her down and shove her hand in her face. sevika would just raise an eyebrow, and look back up at jinx. seemingly unamused.

✧.* “i’m a fiancée now! see?”

✧.* “i can see that.”

✧.* “you can at least act like you’re excited for me!”

✧.* jinx’s favorite part of being engaged is probably planning the wedding. she makes almost all of the decorations herself- centerpieces, messy tablecloths, colorful banners. they’re crude and chaotic, but they’re jinx.

✧.* you do manage to talk her into letting a friend make flower arrangements and cater, though.

✧.* while jinx wants to look nice for her big day, she doesn’t really put that much thought into what she wears, instead wanting to hear your input. if you want her to wear a suit, she’ll do so! if you’d rather see her in a dress, fine by her. however, i can’t see her in an extravagant wedding gown… probably something simple.

✧.* she does insist on wearing her hair in a single braid, though.

✧.* jinx wants a small wedding, at a local empty hall she can decorate however she pleases. close friends and (your) family are the only guests welcomed.

✧.* when the day of the wedding comes, jinx is both ecstatic and a nervous wreck. a million thoughts are swirling through her mind, whispering to her from every angle. what if you leave her at the altar? what if you get cold feet? but the fact that you are there, she knows you’re here for the long haul, is what grounds jinx.

✧.* jinx somehow convinced vi to walk her down the aisle.

✧.* it actually wasn’t hard at all, she’s just exaggerating. despite the strains and tainted history between the two, vi wouldn’t miss the chance to see her little sister get married for anything in the world.

✧.* when she walks down the aisle, she’s the first one at the altar. twiddling with her thumbs, eyes darting around the hall.

✧.* when she finally sees you being walked down, though, jinx isn’t able to hold back her tears. it starts out small, then a dam breaks. you just look so beautiful.

✧.* it comes time for the reading of vows, and jinx’s voice is trembling. bless her, she’s sniffling and trying through shaking hands to unfold the paper.

✧.* “i’m not good with words, you know this. i never have been. but you make it so easy. i’ve never felt more like myself with someone, never felt so loved and cared for. i still wonder why you chose to marry someone so chaotic, a ‘master criminal,’ as the pilties put it. but i can’t explain how grateful i am. you love me for everything that i am, and everything i’m not. it’s you and me, always. i love you.”

✧.* after exchanging rings, jinx is practically pouncing on you to close the distance between you. the exact moment the officiant says ‘you may now kiss.’

✧.* jinx is completely different during the reception. the music selection is so perfectly her, but also so you. she’s (horribly) dancing, tugging your wrists to invite you to dance with her. whooping and singing along to the music. this is the happiest you’ve ever seen jinx. your wife.

vi;

✧.* vi is also someone who never saw herself getting married, honest. she had a prison wife at one point, but that was just to get her through each grueling hour at stillwater. the girl never saw herself being married for real. until she met you.

✧.* she first began calling you her wife playfully. vi is a sucker for pet names, isn’t she?

✧.* “i’m home! how’s my wife doing? i didn’t keep ya waiting long, did i?”

✧.* but the more she called you her wife, and the more positive your reactions to the nickname became, it dawned on her that she actually could see herself marrying you. that option had just never clicked in her mind.

✧.* the two of you never properly talked about marriage per se, but it was silently agreed that it was a possibility.

✧.* however, it still caught you completely off guard when vi proposed to you.

✧.* it was in the middle of a field, which already struck you as odd. vi wasn’t one to go exploring in nature typically, but she said she wanted to see the stars with you, so you didn’t ask any questions.

✧.* you’re side-by-side with vi on a shared blanket, while your girlfriend uses her finger to point out each constellation. she’s wrong about the name of the majority, but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. she’s just too cute.

✧.* however, at the end of the night, when you’re occupied with folding the blanket, you glance over your shoulder to see vi on one knee. your hand claps over your mouth and the blanket falls onto the ground.

✧.* “(y/n), i love you. you know this. i tell you every day. but we’ve been together for a while now… and i think i’m ready to take the next step. i call you my wife anyways, why not make it official?”

✧.* with tears welling in your eyes, you nod again and again. hands covering your mouth and one shakily stretching to let vi slip the ring onto your finger.

✧.* it’s a simple ring; a silver band with a rectangular alexandrite in the center. but you can tell from the shine that vi had been saving for this purchase for a while.

✧.* vi wanted to get a ring worthy of you. a ring that showcased her endless devotion to you, and damn, she did a good job hiding the ring as long as she did.

✧.* vi doesn’t waste any time when it comes to planning. she wants a small wedding, but still intimate and romantic.

✧.* almost everything is done by the two of you, with minimal help from jinx. vi does centerpieces, invitations, and the music, while you take care of the catering, flower arrangements, and guest planning.

✧.* jinx likely just makes a few light coverings to give the illusions of different colored lights during the reception.

✧.* your girlfriend fiancée wears a tailored black suit, with a maroon vest and tie. she put a lot into being able to rent it, so she wants to make sure she looks perfect for her soon-to-be wife!

✧.* the day of the ceremony finally arrives. vi is nervous, but she does her best to keep herself grounded. it isn’t until she’s stood at the altar waiting for her bride that anxiety truly sets in.

✧.* yet, all of that anxiety melts the instant she sees you walking down the aisle. your eyes light and full of adoration, only for her. the smile on your face is enough to light up the entire universe on its own.

✧.* it’s then, when she takes your hand as you step up to the altar, that she begins to feel tears pricking at her eyes.

✧.* vi has her vows memorized. she made a habit of reading them aloud every night at least twenty times, over and over again. but she still manages to stumble over her words; something you can’t help but giggle to.

✧.* “my love for you has always been clear. since the day i met you, you’ve never left my mind, or my side. i love all of your cute habits, all of the things you think i don’t notice, the sound of your voice, your smile, those eyes… i love all of you. i promise to love you now, and forever. you complete me.”

✧.* vi is fully crying by the time she finally gets to cup your cheeks and press her lips to yours, holding the kiss longer than she probably should. but she just can’t help herself. you’re her wife now.

✧.* she doesn’t get shitfaced during the reception, but your wife is definitely pretty drunk on the dance floor. busting out moves you didn’t even know she had.

✧.* she feels free to let loose now, have fun, with you by her side. dancing with her. singing along to the music without a care in the world.

mel;

✧.* with mel, marriage wasn’t really a conversation the two of you had, instead, it was a given from the beginning.

✧.* mel takes relationships very seriously and sees anything casual as a waste of her precious time. marriage is the end goal when mel gets into any relationship, so it wouldn’t be any different for you. she loves you, and you love her, the natural thing to do is to get married.

✧.* however, she is a patient woman and willing to wait for whenever you’re ready to commit to marriage. she is busy after all, she can wait as long as needed.

✧.* when you finally are at a place in your life- financially, mentally, emotionally, to be able to comfortably get married, mel wastes no time proposing to you.

✧.* you figured it would be the other way around, and actually did begin window-shopping for a general idea of what ring you’d purchase for your girlfriend.

✧.* but mel has a way of knowing things, and she tells you that she’ll buy it.

✧.* “i know you’ve been browsing around, here and there for a ring. be patient. i’ll handle that, okay?”

✧.* when mel proposes, it’s in a small, intimate space in her home. the woman goes to plenty of galas and parties as a councilwoman, but she wants this moment to be only between her and her girlfriend.

✧.* warm candlelight fills the room, the scent of peonies and baby’s breath subtle. you’re unsure of what’s going on for such decorations- was there a holiday that you forgot? your anniversary wasn’t for another few months, so surely-

✧.* a soft voice from behind you pulls you back to reality. the sight of mel, on one knee, holding open a violet velvet box.

✧.* “my dearest. i know i tell you regularly, and i know you’re aware, but i love you. i love you more than life itself, and i want nothing more than to make the next commitment to you. i need to marry you, (y/n).”

✧.* and god, the ring itself. the stone is practically a boulder. it’s a gold band with a cluster of diamonds framing one big diamond in the middle. yes, mel is the most wealthy woman in piltover, but she’s truly outdone herself.

✧.* you’re in tears, mumbling out choked ‘yes’s as your now-fiancée beams. she takes extra care, gently slipping the ring onto your finger. letting you know just how beautiful it looks on you.

✧.* as much as mel would love to be thoroughly involved in planning the wedding, duty calls. so you have creative liberty- she trusts you. she also does hire a professional wedding planner to get most of the difficult work done. the last thing mel would want is you worrying your pretty head before marrying her.

✧.* a grand hall, with gold interior, fountains, high ceilings and glass chandeliers was selected for your wedding. a place which many former high-ranking members of piltover’s society have been married in years prior.

✧.* as for a dress, mel chooses a grand, white gown. silk with lace trimmings, and a cathedral-length veil. she doesn’t mind what you wear, the only thing that matters to her is your comfort.

✧.* naturally, the majority of piltover is invited to the wedding. it’s not every day that the most high-ranking woman in your city gets married.

✧.* the day of the wedding comes. mel is an expert when it comes to keeping herself calm on the outside; stoic and poised. but internally, she’s a mess.

✧.* mel medarda, getting married? it’s always been something she’s wanted, but now that it’s happening, it’s hitting her what she’s about to do. yet, that makes it so much more exciting.

✧.* her worry is more about what how she’ll be perceived by the public, and presenting a much more vulnerable side of herself.

✧.* when mel walks down the aisle, bouquet in hand, orchestra plucking strings, she’s taking deep breaths to ground herself. this is really happening.

✧.* she sees you walk toward the altar, and she immediately has to close her eyes. only for a second. you look absolutely divine- it’s overwhelming. so many emotions: love, adoration, gratitude, all swirling in mel’s chest.

✧.* mel has her vows memorized. she’s always had a good memory, but she can’t stop her voice from cracking and breaking every few words. the moment is just all-consuming.

✧.* “my love for you is eternal. it always has been, and it always will be. to be stood before all of piltover, making this promise to you is an opportunity i am honored to have. i promise to fiercely love you for as long as you will allow me to, and as long as you will love me. (y/n). my love, my light, and now my wife.”

✧.* she has to wipe away a few stray tears from her face afterward, but she giggles and tightly embraces you. just before brushing your lips with hers, a moment she wishes she could stay in forever.

✧.* the reception is refined and calm. although others may be getting a bit tipsy, mel would much rather slow-dance with you on the floor. stand beside the cake, champagne in hand, just admiring you for all that you are. she swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.

sevika;

✧.* sevika has never given marriage a second thought. for other girls? sure, but never her. she had a job to do, a city to protect, and that was her priority.

✧.* until you in passing mentioned being old and married in jest. that statement hit sevika like a bag of bricks.

✧.* trying to lay her head down to rest, your voice plays on a loop in sevika’s head. being old and married. married. married to each other.

✧.* she simply can’t shake the thought. again, she had never given marriage a second thought, but sevika could truly see herself marrying you. that was how loyal and devoted she was to you, how much she loved you.

✧.* sevika doesn’t mention it, though. that’s the kind of woman she is, isn’t it? moving in silence, but with intention nonetheless.

✧.* however, one day, sevika slips out of your shared home to take care of ‘business.’

✧.* “be back soon, love. i won’t be long. -sevika”, reads a note left on your dresser.

✧.* where sevika is actually going is to a metal smith in zaun, a humble craftsman in a shared space with various other artists. she wants your ring to be perfectly you, and she wants your ring to be one that nobody else possesses. so custom-made is the only option.

✧.* a thick silver band with an amethyst in the center, and engravings on the inside. it takes about two weeks to finish, with sevika checking in about twice every week in the wee hours of the morning. this is one of the most important projects she’s ever overseen.

✧.* once she finally gets it, sevika will not let go of the ring box. a heavy maple wood box housing the most important possession she has, soon to be yours.

✧.* of course, sevika fiddling with her left pocket doesn’t go unnoticed by you. but she brushes it off, tells you that she wasn’t sure if she left something in there from the day before.

✧.* her proposal is spontaneous. she tries to plan it, but she simply cannot wait any longer. she takes the ring box out of her pocket, presenting it to you and slowly opening it.

✧.* “i don’t… i don’t do this stuff. i don’t know how to, i’m sorry. but i… i love you, and i can’t stop thinking about what you said before. about being old and married. i want that, with you.”

✧.* it’s so rare that sevika is completely unguarded, even in private. she’s a soft lover, but you can tell that right now, all of her walls are down. poor woman, she’s even shaking.

✧.* you just grab her hand, a stray tear falling down your cheek, and whisper, “yes.”

✧.* sevika has no idea where to start when it comes to wedding planning (or event planning to begin with.) so you take on most of the responsibility for planning, occasionally enlisting help from friends.

✧.* of course, sevika is still very involved in terms of observing and helping you make decisions.

✧.* you choose a small hall, enough to hold a handful of guests. sevika doesn’t have many people to invite, granted, but there needs to be enough room for her playing mates at the casino, jinx, and your guests.

✧.* your fiancée chooses a dusty plum suit, tailored to her body and the smallest golden hoops in her ears. (you didn’t even know she had her ears pierced until the day of the wedding.)

✧.* the day comes, and sevika sees you walking down the aisle. she stares at you in nothing short of awe, pure joy. her mouth hangs open.

✧.* when you finally step up to meet her at the altar, it takes everything in the woman to not simply whisk you away then and there. patience, sevika, she tells herself.

✧.* she has her vows written down, despite trying to memorize them. she’s just filled with too many emotions. nerves, mostly.

✧.* “standing here now, i realize more than ever how much i love you. you’ve brought something to my life i never thought i’d feel: unconditional, unwavering love. i don’t know how you do it, but you make every day better than the last. you’ve gotten through to my heart. i swear to love you, to be loyal to you, and to protect you.”

✧.* she doesn’t even wait for the officiant to say that you may kiss, she’s immediately closing the distance between you as soon as you finish exchanging vows, kissing her wife again, and again, and again.

✧.* sevika doesn’t do much during the reception, mostly drinking little sips of whine and gazing at you with that longing expression you’ve come to know. if you try to drag her out onto the floor to dance with you, she’ll playfully groan and roll her eyes. but you know she loves it. she loves you.

✧.* “come on, sev, dance with me!”

✧.* “i don’t dance.”

✧.* “well, you do now!”

caitlyn;

✧.* the topic of marriage is a difficult one for caitlyn. as a member of one of the highest-ranking houses in piltover, it’s an expectation that she will one day marry. not necessarily from her parents, but from piltover and tradition.

✧.* honestly, she was indifferent. if she found someone she’d like to marry, great. but if not, she wasn’t going to hold her breath or beat herself up over it.

✧.* when you came into her life, caitlyn could feel her perception of marriage slowly changing. it was still indifferent at best, but she now understood why marriage was so common. why it was a thing, even. her love for you grew stronger by the day, and she wouldn’t be opposed to marriage- if it was you.

✧.* not married because she has to be, but because she wants to be.

✧.* caitlyn is transparent about all of this with you, telling you that while she’s okay with the idea of marriage, she doesn’t expect it. it’s the least she can do: be honest.

✧.* ultimately, the decision is in your hands, and you decide that you undoubtedly want caitlyn to be your wife.

✧.* so you browse every single jeweler in both piltover and the undercity. looking for any hidden gems amongst them. independent jewelers, chains, even heirlooms from your family. but in your search, you find a sole jewelry dealer in the undercity. selling a silver engagement ring with sapphire clusters that perfectly match caitlyn’s eyes.

✧.* you’re in the family’s garden, cait looking off into the distance. observing… the leaves, the flowers, the way the light hits them? you’re unsure, but you decide now is your opportunity.

✧.* “caitlyn.”

✧.* caitlyn quickly turns her head to you, looking the slightest bit concerned. “hm?”

✧.* that’s when you drop to one knee and take out a ring box. caitlyn’s eyes blow wide, both hands clapping over her mouth. she can’t believe the scene that’s playing out in front of her.

✧.* “i can’t contain myself anymore. caitlyn, the time i’ve had with you has been wonderful. the most amazing time of my life. you are the epitome of grace and diligence, consistently leading. you bring out the best in me day after day, and my life feels complete with you in it. caitlyn kiramman, will you marry me?”

✧.* bless caitlyn, she’s trying so hard to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. she only nods, once, then twice, then over and over before bringing you into a deep kiss.

✧.* when you slip the ring onto her finger, you wish you could freeze time and frame this particular moment. the adoration in the woman’s eyes is one you can’t describe.

✧.* when it comes to wedding planning, cait wants to be as involved as possible. of course, she has a job to do, so that does prolong the planning. but patience is a virtue she learned early, so she doesn’t mind.

✧.* “what’s another few months? we have all the time in the world, dear.”

✧.* the two of you choose to have a small and intimate wedding, inviting her father, a few council members, and anyone you’d like to invite.

✧.* caitlyn chooses a sleek v-neck black dress, fitted to her form with a long train. she opts to wear a small tiara instead of a veil.

✧.* upon further examination, you notice that it’s the very tiara cassandra wore on her wedding day. silver, with small rubies delicately placed. caitlyn honoring her mother in this way brought a whirlwind of emotions to you, but you knew she would be happy for her daughter.

✧.* and for that very reason, among many others, caitlyn’s wedding day is an emotional one for her. she’s elated to be finally marrying the woman she loves, but she wishes more than anything that her mother could be there to see it.

✧.* seeing cait walk down the aisle does wonders to you. waiting at the altar for her was excruciating as is, but you almost have to pick your jaw up off the floor as your fiancée makes her way closer and closer to you. she looks otherworldly.

✧.* she chuckles and beams at you once she steps up to the altar. taking a moment to just admire you. she reaches a slim hand out to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in her hand for only a moment. her sapphire eyes full of adoration.

✧.* caitlyn has her vows written down, in that annoyingly perfect penmanship of hers. she reads from the paper, glancing up at you constantly while having to wipe her eyes.

✧.* “(y/n), i didn’t know if this day would ever come. but i’m so glad that it has. my love for you knows no bounds, it festers and grows and builds onto itself every day. it’s exhilarating, as is every day by your side. to call myself your wife will be my greatest honor. and to welcome you into the kiramann family, an even greater honor.”

✧.* she’s fully crying by the time she finishes reading out her vows, looking up at you with the best smile that she can muster. she’s so overcome with love, she can’t help it.

✧.* the moment the officiant says you may kiss, caitlyn is placing one hand firmly on your waist and the other wraps around your lower back. holding you close and brushing her lips against yours.

✧.* cait’s reception is rather relaxed, with a selection of mostly classical and contemporary music playing quietly over speakers. however, she insists on having several slow dances with you. she’s surprisingly good, which makes you suspect she’s experienced with this.

✧.* guiding you back and forth with expertise, her head buried into the crook of your neck. holding you impossibly close to her as she hums in contentment.

[drchucktingle]

On your blog you've talked about dealing with chronic as a result from the stress of masking your autism.

It's a bit of a different situation, but my little sister (who we've begun to suspect has adhd) has been experiencing chronic pain in her arms and legs. I may be totally off base, but I was wondering if a similar stess might potentially be a factor in her pain.

If you're willing, would you mind talking about how your pain affected before you found a way to manage it (I tried searching your tumblr, but not much came up, so sorry if I'm asking a question that's already been answered)?

Thanks either way, I love your books. Love is real!

sure buckaroo GOOD QUESTION. i have had chronic pain in some form or another for LONG TIME in a number of STRESS RELATED WAYS. in past it has been cracking teeth from clenching dang jaws while i sleep and things like that, but a few years ago it was FULL ON BODY PAIN AND TIGHTNESS like every muscle was clenching up. went to the doctor over and over all kinds of dang specialists and it was very difficult to figure out what was going on. eventually landed on a sort of nebulous trot of STRESS but i can get more specific.

there are several things about me that you would never know just from looking or even talking to me for long times. i am a bi buckaroo, i am a non-dysphoric trans buckaroo, i am an autistic buckaroo. EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE THINGS IS EITHER HIDDEN AUTOMATICALLY OR I AM SUCH AN EXPERT AT HIDING THAT IT IS SECOND NATURE

autism presents its trot in many ways, so my words do not apply to all, but my version is EXTREME ORGANIZATION AND ENDLESS WORK ETHIC. in way of freud (which is a silly way but sometimes good for symbolism talk) i have what you would call an OVERDEVELOPED SUPER EGO which is a double edged sword. i can write 100s of books at an incredible pace, but also feel like my body is constantly collapsing in on itself

this is not really something i consciously think about much, but eventually these health problems started creeping up. it was all from carrying this mystery tension in my body, because while it feels EASY for me to mask i believe all that tension goes somewhere and it stores up and stores up and stores up.

so i think the HEALTHY way that i have found to deal with this (i think of it as releasing the steam valve a bit so the boiler does not break down) is ART. this space where i am allowed to be CHUCK TINGLE and write without obsessing over the spelling or punctuation, or to loudly express my queerness, or explore gender, and to let my neurotypical mask down DIRECTLY RELIEVES my chronic pain because it literally makes my muscles relax.

when i started out this ARTISTIC TROT as chuck i used a LOT of metaphor to keep my privacy, with different words or different versions of people for different things, and buckaroos found this very funny. as a way to express myself artistically i also liked this metaphor trot a lot, but i have also found that the LESS metaphor i paint over my life as chuck, the better it is for my health. if you have noticed, i talk less about some of the parts of my life that were metaphors, or maybe you have seen that my voice has relaxed a bit in interviews, or that i carry myself a little differently over time, this is partially why. (there is another artistic reason that was a planned trot from the beginning and it has to do with my feelings as a young autistic buckaroo of not fitting in on this timeline, but we can dive into that later).

anyway, as PRACTICAL ADVICE i would say that FINDING A SPACE TO EXPRESS YOURSELF WITHOUT FEAR OR MASKING has been the number one trot for me. that can be a pink bag over your head writing hundreds of erotic shorts, or that can be just laying on the ground howling your heart out, or doing whatever stim you need to do.

i will also say that ONCE I REALIZED IT WAS MUSCLE TENSION getting a physical therapist helped a lot. because there are two sides, you have to start releasing steam from the steam valve, but at the same time youve also gotta start HEALING THE DAMAGE. so i think stretching and techniques like that can be very helpful.

hope that helps buckaroo LOVE IS REAL

[astra-ravana]

Easy Curses for Beginners

Here are some simple yet unusual curses for beginners. These curses are low-energy, easy to perform, and require minimal tools. They are subtle and perfect for those just starting their baneful practice, but still pack a punch. Always be mindful of your intentions—curses can carry karmic or energetic consequences. Always start the curse process by protecting yourself and end it by cleansing yourself. Remember to do your own research before using baneful magick.

The Rotting Fruit Curse

Causes a person’s luck, relationships, or finances to decay over time.

Needed:

• A piece of fruit (apple, orange, etc.)

• A slip of paper

• A black pen

• A dark place (cupboard, drawer, or under the bed)

Instructions:

Write the target’s name on the paper. Place the paper inside or beneath the fruit. Hold the fruit and focus on your intent—imagine the person’s life slowly rotting just like the fruit will. Place the fruit in a hidden, dark place and leave it to decay. Once fully rotted, dispose of it far from your home.

The Knotted Thread Curse

Traps a person in misfortune, confusion, or stagnation. The target experiences obstacles, delays, and problems that keep them from progressing in life.

Needed:

• A piece of black thread or string (12 inches long)

• Your voice and breath

Instructions:

Hold the string in your hands and focus on the target. With each knot you tie, say a phrase like:

• "With this knot, I trap your fate."

• "With this tie, your plans fall apart."

Tie nine knots while envisioning the person becoming stuck, unable to move forward in life. Hide or bury the thread somewhere secret.

The Echo Curse

Makes a person’s words return to them, causing gossipers or liars to suffer their own consequences. Their own words work against them—exposing their lies, making people distrust them, or causing them to face social backlash.

Needed:

• A mirror (small handheld one works best)

• A marker or lipstick

• The person’s name (or just "liar," "gossip," etc.)

Instructions:

Write their name (or a word representing their offense) on the mirror. Hold the mirror and say:

"What you say returns to you, every lie and every word untrue."

Place the mirror facing a wall or inside a dark drawer, so their energy is reflected back to them.

The Cracked Egg Curse

Causes a person’s stability to fall apart—relationships, money, confidence, or mental clarity. The target experiences instability, whether emotional, financial, or personal.

Needed:

• A raw egg

• A marker

• A place to smash the egg (outside, near their path, or a trash bin)

Instructions:

Write the person’s name on the egg. Hold it and whisper your curse into it, such as:

"May your life crack like this shell."

Imagine their stability shattering like the egg will. Smash it on the ground or in a trash bin.

The Slipping Shadow Curse

Causes a person to lose focus, forget things, or make mistakes. They struggle with their memory, lose track of things, and make more mistakes.

Needed:

• A black candle

• A piece of paper

• A pencil

Instructions:

Write the target’s name on the paper. Light the black candle and hold the paper over the flame (don’t burn it yet). Whisper:

"Like a shadow slipping through the cracks, your mind stumbles, your focus lacks."

Let a few drops of wax fall on the name, then crumple the paper. Blow out the candle and throw the paper in a busy place (so their energy is scattered).

The Splitting Roads Curse

Causes confusion, indecision, and emotional instability. The target struggles to understand what's happening and make the right choices.

Needed:

• Two twigs or sticks

• A piece of string

• A crossroads or a place where two paths split

Instructions:

Tie the two sticks together at one end, so they form a V shape (symbolizing a forked path). Hold them in your hands and say:

"Your choices split, your path unclear, may confusion follow near."

Leave the sticks at a crossroads or place where two paths meet.

The Ink Spill Curse

Causes a person’s words (spoken or written) to be misunderstood, ignored, or turned against them. Everything they say becomes misinterpreted, loses power, or backfires.

Needed:

• A pen

• A piece of paper

• A cup of water or ink

Instructions:

Write the person’s name and a word representing their harmful speech (ie: “lies,” “gossip,” “manipulation”). Hold the paper and whisper:

"Your words twist, your message lost, what you say will bear the cost."

Drop the paper into the water or ink and let the words dissolve. Dispose of the soaked paper in running water (sink, river, or toilet).

The Cold Shoulder Curse

The person experiences social isolation—people ignore them, avoid them, or lose interest in them. This will eventually lead to profound loneliness.

Needed:

• A small ice cube

• A photo of the person (or just their name written on paper)

• A freezer

Instructions:

Place the ice cube on top of their name or photo. Whisper:

"Like ice, you freeze in place. No warmth, no friends, no welcome space."

Wrap the paper/photo in a piece of cloth or plastic and place it in the freezer.

The Crumbling Foundation Curse

Causes a collapse in a person’s relationships, home life, or work environment. The target experiences instability in their personal life making it harder for them to maintain relationships or stability.

Needed:

• A small handful of graveyard dirt

• A piece of paper

• A black pen

Instructions:

Write the person’s name on the paper. Hold the dirt in your hand and whisper:

"Your foundation weakens, your roots unsteady. That which holds you crumbles already."

Sprinkle the dirt over the paper and then fold it, with the dirt inside, like a little packet. Throw into running water or the rubble of a collapsed building.

[jon-sedai]

We don’t appreciate enough how GRRM made House Targaryen the poster children for his de/reconstruction of the fantasy chosen family trope, and we don’t appreciate how Jon and Dany are the main lens through which he does that. House Targaryen is fantasy on steroids—magic swords, magic look, magic lineage, perhaps the most magic pet one could have in the genre, and a magic destiny that’s specific to them and only them. There’s a foretold magical conflict and its main hero (as many would think), “the prince that was promised”, specifically has to be a Targaryen. This House’s history is so rich, but from a genre perspective, it is Aerys II’s reign and Robert’s Rebellion that’s the most interesting to analyze. Aerys isn’t special himself, but he is to sire the future savior of the world. Then Rhaegar is born and tragic as they are, all the signs point to him being the promised messiah. And Rhaegar becomes THE fantasy hero on steroids. He’s the perfect heir to House Targaryen’s legacy because not only is he to be the best of them, and many think he would have been had he lived, but he is the most perfect manifestation of House Targaryen as the personification of fantasy. There’s absolutely a point to him living and dying as the heir, the inheritor, the eternal symbol of what could have been of the Targaryen’s old glory.

Part of Rhaegar’s legacy extends to his son Aegon. Aegon had everything Rhaegar didn’t. A comet was seen at his conception—and this is an most important herald for the chosen one. So he is given a song, “the song of ice and fire”, and a king’s name to match his status as the new messiah. He didn’t live long but he inherited Rhaegar’s look in his youth too; the fantasy protagonist look. But Aegon died before he could be the hero.

You see Jon and Dany as chosen ones only works so well because of their House’s history, especially as (anti)parallels to Rhaegar and Aegon. They are the unexpected inheritors and challengers to their house’s legacy but in different ways.

Dany is the most immediate and obvious heir. There’s a beauty to her being the last of them and thus, the one bearing the entire house’s legacy. Dany is THE Targaryen. And in being that, she becomes THE hero. She’s got the hero’s look, the hero’s magic and destiny, and better yet, she got the hero’s sword and pet all in one. And, she’s legitimate! She is House Targaryen. But there’s a problem….shes a girl. And we all know House Targaryen’s history with girls.

Maester Aemon’s “no one ever looked for a girl” is quickly becoming my favorite Dany-related quote because it pretty much encapsulates her entire arc, especially as an inheritor to her house’s legacy. The hero they died knowing and expecting was the boy: first Rhaegar, then Aegon. But father and son are dead. Yet Daenerys lives. She inherits everything else they did and more! The Targaryens tried and failed to bring dragons back, but it was Dany who ultimately did it.

Now, Jon is Dany but flipped. From a meta point of view, he’s more fantasy protagonist than she is. He’s a boy, he’s got a big magic sword that he can swing about, and he’s perhaps fantasy’s most prolific trope in action—the magical hidden prince. But within this story, GRRM flips these two characters. Jon’s fantasy protag-ness doesn’t go away, it just morphs into something else. Unlike Dany, he may be a boy and he may have a sword, but he lacks literally everything else. He doesn’t have the look, his magic powers are from his other family, so is his magic pet, and his magic destiny has thus far developed outside his immediate association with House Targaryen. Dany is “what if Rhaegar was a girl?”, but we can’t even begin to ask these types of questions with Jon because there’s so much that precludes him from the fantasy hero role in story. He’s Rhaegar’s heir…but he doesn’t look like him…and he’s not even legitimate. So what do we do now?

GRRM destroyed his fantasy protag house and decided to build up again from the ground up, but did so by challenging the two most critical points—primogeniture and exceptionalism. With Dany, he makes a girl the Targaryen’s outward successor. This works really well because the Targaryens have a history of denying their female heirs. But now what’s left of them is a girl, and she is literally everything they could have hoped for. And she is a a reflection of her house, but her arc has at many times seen her be the antithesis of her ancestors. And I can’t help but think of the oncoming meta-textual showdown between her and Young Griff. On the surface Young Griff, a boy, is the preferred heir. But Dany is, in truth, the one.

Jon is interesting because, in my view, he challenges the Targaryen idea of exceptionalism. He’s easily the fantasy protagonist from the outside looking in. But he doesn’t have the Targaryen name, nor does he have the look. He has the blood, but what makes him special is that it is mixed with the other major fantasy protagonist house’s blood—he’s special in that he’s a hybrid. And this is interesting because if Aegon conquered the seven kingdoms because of a prophecy regarding him or one of his princely descendants, it’s quite the twist to have this messiah not even be a Targaryen prince (not in name anyway). That’s why all the hand wringing around “is Jon legitimate?” or “no one cares because he doesn’t look like Rhaegar” really isn’t the point. The point is for Jon to be the manifestation of the hero—the king—outside of that narrow framework. And if he succeeds, then GRRM would absolutely still be subverting prophecy and genre conventions.

There’s something to Jon and Dany being born as or after House Targaryen falls. House Targaryen has no crown, no throne, and their prophetic mandate has been usurped. But GRRM is so attached to them, and he certainly wants to rebuild them and hold fantasy to account. But to do so, everything we know about the Targaryens, everything the Targaryens knew about themselves, has to be challenged and put to the test by the personifications of all that a Targaryen hero couldn’t be: a girl, and a bastard.

[harmoonix]

☾ Your Moon Phase ☾

☾ ~ In your Birth Chart ~ ☾

☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾ • ☾ ☾ • ☾

🌑 If you want to find your moon phase scroll down before you read so you'll know what you read about 🌑 ☾•☾•☾

☾ • ☾ • ☾

🌑 BORN ON THE NEW MOON 🌑

The native born during the new moon is meant to experience many vast, wild and beautiful experiences in this lifetime, since New Moon symbolize beginnings, your entire life is about yourself, to prioritize yourself, to prioritize your time. The new moon is also known as the "Dark Moon" is the phase where moon is the weakest, because is covered in full darkness. People born under the new moon love to try out new things, to start new journeys/ideas/ to extend their creativity, since Moon can be a bit more soft in this phase, the native has an unique sensitive nature, is very important to not lose your love for curiosity as you grow up, to always stay curious

🌑 BORN ON A WAXING CRESCENT MOON 🌑

The natives born under a waxing crescent are more to embrace their lives with more curiosity and joy than others, their energy can be from clingy - to an attachment style in a really fast way, above all they're are independent and love to do the things their own way, they also tend to prefer their comfort zone and security (feeling safe) over anything else. They may also love challenges, especially if there is a reward involved, (risk taking). Some of them can also be a bit timid/shy at first but kind and respectful! The native during this moon phase tends to attach themselves to the past which can be a bit bad for them because you cannot change the past, you may feel sorry or bad over your past but don't let it to ruin your whole life

🌑 BORN ON A FIRST QUARTER MOON 🌑

Where the moon firstly finds herself being half illuminated, half and half, 2 pieces combining eachother, darkness and light. This phase of moon indicates growth. Therefore the native can be really grounding, motivational, more calm/peaceful. You are the protagonist/main character with this moon phase in your own life. The native has a very excited nature, the more excited thet get the more things they create out of it. They may also have a sense of achieving things, to collect as many things as possible and to open new doors in life. The native is a strong individual, proactive, sometimes a bit passive aswell. Your strong personality can help you to reach your full potential. Is very important to know that you can't change some things and have to let them happen, sometimes waiting for the result of a problem can be a key solver

🌑 BORN ON A WAXING GIBBOUS 🌑

The native born during this moon phase is blessed with the gift of communication, while other moon phases search for an individual knowledge, this moon phase wants to share their knowledge with others. These natives can also identify as the "psychologist" or "therapist" of their group (friend group if is the case) because of their analytical mind, they often know how it is to go through from bad to good moods and vice versa, and they know how to deal with problems in their own ways. What's special about this moon phase is that you can be what you want to be, since the native can be a big believer of their dreams and desires, they will certainly achieve those. The native can easily be an influencer in the relationship, inspiring the other one and themselves in the same time.

🌑 BORN ON THE FULL MOON 🌑

The time where wolves are howling to the moon, is a very wild phase for the moon to be in, is known for this moon phase to drive people crazy. The native born during this moon phase is very transformative. The moon is tightly tied connected to the natives feelings/emotions, and sometimes can even have a control upon it. For example to feel more agitated or stressed. You as a child of the full moon, you can often find yourself being a little more sensbile than others, sensbile to others people's energy as well. Is a state where your conscious mind allows you to dreams,to visualize your life, something about these natives is that gives "off vibes" is when it comes to being an extrovert or introvert, since it can manifest differently. An romantic native with a heart full of desires

🌑 BORN ON A WANING GIBBOUS 🌑

The children of the waning gibbous moon are gifted with a mind of a creator, they often have a very good intuition or like a little "angel" beside their shoulder energy, the moon finds herself being more of a reserved nature, if I was to describe this moon phase it will be the sound ocean waves at night. They're often that wise yet creative person of the group, but in the same logical and open-minded. You can find yourself always looking for a part that is missing, the feeling that you're not complete. You're very conscious of yourself/your life/your ambitions. And something very admirable about them is their beliefs, a native born during this moon phase will never be let down by their higher selves/by the God/source/universe

🌑 BORN ON A LAST QUARTER 🌑

The natives born during the last quarter have a sense of nostalgia in them, you have a quality about you that seems frozen in time, you keep yourself unique while trying to help others to do the same as well. This moon phase is more attachable than others, so therefore the natives not only attaches to people but to places/animals/things in life very easily. They may also have a sense of finding their meaning in life, while being happy about it even about the smallest things, because they represent "virtue". The native is known for being kind/lovely/loyal and sensible and sometimes they tend to hide themselves in their inner world. Sometimes the past can blind you from the joy of the present & future. The present is just as deserving of your love and attention as your past

🌑 BORN ON A WANING CRESCENT MOON 🌑

Born during the very last moon phase, the native born during this moon phase is gifted with an immense spirituality and intuition, to describe them with one eye they see the physical world and with other eye they see the spiritual world, so in a way they're connected with each other, the native is very likely to daydream a lot, may receive lots of insights and visions in their dreams. They are gifted with an active imagination, to imagine and create. A glorious nature yet sensibile and affected by others energy. You know how to get deep and meaningful, and it's because at your core, you're a thinker. The thing with them is that they get more wise by their age, just like a flower ready to bloom and show her beauty

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘 • 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

How to find your specific moon phase?

Try searching on google/internet your birthday and to add "moon phase" for example: 13.09.2020 moon phase!!

Another example is that astro seek (the site) wil show the moon phase right after you did your birth chart, scroll down to planets table and look right under the moon placement, for example like this:

The 3rd option will be to just search "moon phase calculator" on google but some of them can have wrong results. I suggest that the first and 2nd versions are wayy better!

This was an easy take, hope it helped you to find your moon phase!! Also what phase was the moon where you were born?🌗 Harmo☾nix 🌗