#that may or may not work their way into reality

[salemlunaa]

𓆉 ˚∘YOU ARE NOT BOUND TO THIS REALITY࿐

stop acting like this place is your home, it’s not. Same thing with those trying to manifest things. You’re manifesting a new body but You believe that your home is the reality where you hate your body and that you’re doing something grand and groundbreaking by trying shift from that. You want your dream life through the void state. But you believe this reality you’re experiencing right now is your home. Your base point. Your starting ground. And you think that because you are so tied to this reality by scripting and shifting to a new life you’re doing something crazy and out-of-body like.

Let me tell you something. You aren’t. This is going to sound insane but you are as close to this reality as you are to your dream life. You are as bound to the reality where you have your dream green eyes than you are to the “current” where you have blue eyes that you don’t want.

The only reason that us bloggers use the term “current reality” is because this is the reality where your consciousness lies. I will say this again: there are multiple different versions of you reading this that you aren’t aware of and they’re probably not aware of you. Think of the country you live in right now. There’s a version of you that is from somewhere else and may know nothing about the place you call home and haven’t even stepped foot there. It’s so trippy to think about but what i’m trying to get at is that this isn’t your home. It’s nothing to be scared of, shouldn’t it be empowering and comforting to know you could be anyone you want to be?

like this is literally you:

(found this from @shiftinglea)

It’s so easy to shift your consciousness it’s not something you need to mentally prep for, there’s nothing to do. As soon as you want and intend the shift, it happens, regardless of what you’re seeing. You aren’t stuck here, and it pains me when you guys speak about circumstances as if they’re permanent. They don’t have to exist at all. There is no journey, it’s just immediate teleportation. Think as if. Think of your “desired reality” and your current. Place your awareness there.

The reason you have so much resistance is because you believe you have to. Deep down, you believe effort is needed to leave, you believe you need some extravagant journey as you’re leaving the place you felt bound to all this time. You don’t, you’ve left. you’ve shifted. You can’t grasp that nothing, absolutely nothing needs to be done to enter the state of pure consciousness, your literal naked self.

You believe it needs to be hard because it’s too good to be true.

Leave that belief behind. You aren’t far from your life. The life you intend to have. In fact, you’re right there. Think of all these realities like your children. All of them are related to you in the same way. You don’t have one child that you’re absolutely bound to, assuming you’re a good parent with no favourites. They’re ALL close to you in the SAME PROXIMITY. They ALL have the same relation to you. It’s YOUR BLOOD aka YOU running through their veins, all of them, the veins of all these realities, even the ones you aren’t conscious of yet. You aren’t just bound to one.

So you don’t need to work super hard for that body, that shift, that face. When we say it’s yours we aren’t just trying to be encouraging it’s just facts. I’m not the most well versed marvel fan, but does Dr. Strange have a hard time shifting or does he just know where he wants to go and opens those portal thingys? Be like him. Know where you want to go and leave.

Wash your hands of what you don’t want and think as if. Thinking as if = placing your consciousness in desired state = you are in desired state = 3d will follow.

This isn’t home base. There isn’t a home base. Take that into consideration when you’re struggling to truly “just be” while trying to induce the void.

THESE REALITIES ARE ALL THE SAME. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS DECIDE WHERE YOU WANT TO BE ࿐

[luckykiwiii101]

THE DEVIL DOESN’T WEAR SUBMISSION! SHE WEARS PRADA, OH!- AND NARCISSISM!

| | THE 411 ON HOW TO MANIFEST YOUR DREAM LIFE! | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི keep your head & heels high, and your middle finger higher ཋྀ

ཐི TABLE OF CONTENTS ཋྀ

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

p.s. psssst!! hey “void” worshippers, this is also for you. so read it. To everyone, take a day off to let all this information settle, it’s quite a lot!!

Welcome back Upper East Siders.

It’s often said that, no matter the truth, people see what they want to see. Some people might take a step back and find out that they’ve been looking at the same big picture all along. Some people see that their lies have almost caught up to them. Some people may see what was there all along.

But because you’ve fallen to submission, chances are that you’re blinded from the things that are right in-front of you. I’d call you legally blind but it’s a different type of law that you’re breaking.

Talk about secrets of the universe, but you’re living proof that knowledge doesn’t always mean wisdom, and that money can’t buy style, or class.

And if there’s one thing we all know about fashion, it’s that before putting an article of clothing on, you have to take one off, usually with the intention of putting another one back on. Or you’ll end up looking like a complete mess! or under your best friend’s BF! I hope S is taking notes…but even the biggest superstars need a stylist. And luckily for you, I have a friend who’s into fashion, and not just any fashion, high fashion, Little J, come out, come out wherever you are…

Oh wait! Almost lost track of my endless talents but i’m also great at fashion, and i’m simply just better. You can go back to crashing runways little J, and also just…running away.

✰ BELIEVING IN THE LAW ✰

First of all, I want you to know that all your dreams are possible and very easy. So this is for those doubtful upper east siders who forgot that the law of assumption is actually real, and not some joke made up by teenagers online.

Spend some time going through my law of assumption proof gallery to help clear your doubts in the law -> CLICK ME!

Now that you’ve boosted your faith in the law of assumption, of course you can believe 99%, but you’re going to have to fill that 1% on your own, through your own success.

✰ “AND WHO AM I? BETTER THAN YOU” ✰

Do you understand the law of assumption? -> CLICK ME

And do you understand who you actually are? Cause when someone asks, your only response should be “god”. -> CLICK ME

So how does “the void state” & “reality” work? In your favour, as usual -> CLICK ME

✰SELF CONCEPT; BE NARCISSISTIC, THE GOSSIP GIRL WAY✰

Spotted: Lonely boy’s rude awakening. Upper East Side Queens arent born at the top. They climb their way up in heels, no matter who they have to tread on to do it. Now what to wear with those heels…

Well, we hear narcissism’s in fashion, and rumour has it, she’s here to stay. But as I said before, putting a new outfit on requires taking the other off, and I ask disrespectfully, WHAT is that outfit!? You need a serious makeover! -> CLICK ME

A wise woman once said, the most dangerous enemies are the ones we never knew we had. And then there are those assumptions you never knew you held.

Now that you know why you kept failing previously, it’s time for your new self concept! And your permanent self concept. I promise, you’ll never fail again. You can’t do something impossible like failure. And since you understand the law and who you are (I AM) you know that failure simply isn’t possible.

What to wear? Failure? No. Narcissism. She looks much better on you anyway. Choose to wear the ugly outfit? Well I’ve got a friend on cyberspace who knows exactly what to do. And those flashes of clicked pics definitely aren’t coming from the paparazzi.

But I know, I know. “Narcissism” Isn’t that a bad thing? Not when it comes to being who you want. And all I mean is putting yourself on the highest pedestal. You’re going to completely fall in love with yourself, by becoming your desired self. That includes you void worshippers! Stop being submissive to the outer self. You dictate her, not the other way around. You’re going to be your desired self who has their dream life, no matter what. You’re above everyone and everything! Narcissistic, I like it.

First of all, remind yourself of what your dream life is and who you’re going to dedicate yourself to being. All good? Perfect! So here’s your new self concept & reminders to self -> CLICK ME

With this, what you’re going to do, is make your own personalised self concept guide. The one i’ve given you is only generalised to everyone’s use. I’ve given “directions” on where to add your own ideas, but don’t remove my ones because they’re extremely important and shouldn’t be ignored!! To make your own personalised self concept guide, just copy & paste the text on the template, and add your own ideas to your heart’s content, and decorate it to your liking & aesthetic. No harm in making it look pretty. Use pretty colours, pretty pics of your dream life etc. I recommend making yours on either notion, or tumblr. If you do end up making yours on tumblr, make it a private & pinned post so that you’ll see it on your front page and remember to come back to it. The only time you should ever open tumblr is to view your self concept guide or this post or the other ones i’ve made!!

Get into the state of being your desired self. Because that IS you. Embody your new self concept. Relish in it. Love it. You are going to fully immerse yourself into your new self concept. Finally, once and for all, be the real you. She’s been waiting for you.

✰ YOUR WAY IS THE RIGHT WAY & THE ONLY WAY ✰

A lot of upper east siders have been wondering. “What’s the right way to manifest?” Your way. Your way and only your way. Whatever you want is the right thing to do. You should already understand that from “enter the god state” post. That’s why it’s important that you personalise your own self concept guide!! YOU make the rules!

I hope you like the self concept template i’ve given you, and now you’re going to embody your dream self.

✰ SPIRALS ARE ONLY FOR STAIRCASES ✰

Need a wake up call? CLICK ME! They don’t call New York “the city that never sleeps” for nothing.

The purpose of the self concept guide and why it’s so important is to stop you from spiralling. Need guidance? Go back to the self concept guide and remind yourself of who you are.

Also, I have a post that really helps with spiralling. Come back to this every time you feel like spiralling -> CLICK ME

And don’t forget upper east siders, if you won’t do it out of love, do it out of spite. And you’re going to be bitch, at-least do it the right way. You’re the boss. The devil doesn’t wear submission, she wears prada, oh!- and narcissism. XOXO

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[romerona]

Ethera Operation!!

You're the government’s best hacker, but that doesn’t mean you were prepared to be thrown into a fighter jet.

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Awkward!Hacker! FemReader

Part I

This was never supposed to happen. Your role in this operation was simple—deliver the program, ensure it reached the right hands, and let the professionals handle the breaching.

And then, of course, reality decided to light that plan on fire.

The program—codenamed Ethera—was yours. You built it from scratch with encryption so advanced that even the most elite cyber operatives couldn’t crack it without your input. A next-generation adaptive, self-learning decryption software, an intrusion system designed to override and manipulate high-security military networks, Ethera was intended to be both a weapon and a shield, capable of infiltrating enemy systems while protecting your own from counterattacks in real-time. A ghost in the machine. A digital predator. A weapon in the form of pure code. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could disable fleets, and ground aircraft, and turn classified intelligence into an open book. Governments would kill for it. Nations could fall because of it.

Not that you ever meant to, of course. It started as a little experimental security measure program, something to protect high-level data from cyberattacks, not become the ultimate hacking tool. But innovation has a funny way of attracting the wrong kind of attention, and before you knew it, Ethera had become one, if not the most classified, high-risk program in modern times. Tier One asset or so the Secret Service called it.

It was too powerful, too dangerous—so secret that only a select few even knew of its existence, and even fewer could comprehend how it worked.

And therein lay the problem. You were the only person who could properly operate it.

Which was so unfair.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be your problem. You were just the creator, the brain behind the code, the one who spent way too many sleepless nights debugging this monstrosity. Your job was supposed to end at development. But no. Now, because of some bureaucratic nonsense and the fact that no one else could run it without accidentally bricking an entire system, you had been promoted—scratch that, forcibly conscripted—into field duty.

And your mission? To install it in an enemy satellite.

A literal, orbiting, high-security, military-grade satellite, may you add.

God. Why? Why was your country always at war with others? Why couldn’t world leaders just, you know, go to therapy like normal people? Why did everything have to escalate to international cyber warfare?

Which is how you ended up here.

At Top Gun. The last place in the world you wanted to be.

You weren’t built for this. You thrive in sipping coffee in a cosy little office and handling cyber threats from a safe, grounded location. You weren’t meant to be standing in the halls of an elite fighter pilot training program, surrounded by the best aviators in the world—people who thought breaking the sound barrier was a casual Wednesday.

It wasn’t the high-tech cyberwarfare department of the Pentagon, nor some dimly lit black ops facility where hackers in hoodies clacked away at keyboards. No. It was Top Gun. A place where pilots use G-forces like a personal amusement park ride.

You weren’t a soldier, you weren’t a spy, you got queasy in elevators, you got dizzy when you stood too fast, hell, you weren’t even good at keeping your phone screen from cracking.

... And now you were sweating.

You swallowed hard as Admiral Solomon "Warlock" Bates led you through the halls of the naval base, your heels clacking on the polished floors as you wiped your forehead. You're nervous, too damn nervous and this damned weather did not help.

"Relax, Miss," Warlock muttered in that calm, authoritative way of his. "They're just pilots."

Just pilots.

Right. And a nuclear warhead was just a firework.

And now, somehow, you were supposed to explain—loosely explain, because God help you, the full details were above even their clearance level—how Ethera, your elegant, lethal, unstoppable digital masterpiece, was about to be injected into an enemy satellite as part of a classified mission.

This was going to be a disaster.

You had barely made it through the doors of the briefing room when you felt it—every single eye in the room locking onto you.

It wasn’t just the number of them that got you, it was the intensity. These were Top Gun pilots, the best of the best, and they radiated the kind of confidence you could only dream of having. Meanwhile, you felt like a stray kitten wandering into a lion’s den.

Your hands tightened around the tablet clutched to your chest. It was your lifeline, holding every critical detail of Ethera, the program that had dragged you into this utterly ridiculous situation. If you could’ve melted into the walls, you absolutely would have. But there was no escaping this.

You just had to keep it together long enough to survive this briefing.

So, you inhaled deeply, squared your shoulders, and forced your heels forward, trying to project confidence—chin up, back straight, eyes locked onto Vice Admiral Beau "Cyclone" Simpson, who you’d been introduced to earlier that day.

And then, of course, you dropped the damn tablet.

Not a graceful drop. Not the kind of gentle slip where you could scoop it back up and act like nothing happened. No, this was a full-on, physics-defying fumble. The tablet flipped out of your arms, ricocheted off your knee, and skidded across the floor to the feet of one of the pilots.

Silence.

Pure, excruciating silence.

You didn’t even have the nerve to look up right away, too busy contemplating whether it was physically possible to disintegrate on command. But when you finally did glance up—because, you know, social convention demanded it—you were met with a sight that somehow made this entire disaster worse.

Because the person crouching down to pick up your poor, abused tablet was freaking hot.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with a head of golden curls that practically begged to be tousled by the wind, and, oh, yeah—a moustache that somehow worked way too well on him.

He turned the tablet over in his hands, inspecting it with an amused little smirk before handing it over to you. "You, uh… need this?"

Oh, great. His voice is hot too.

You grabbed it back, praying he couldn't see how your hands were shaking. “Nope. Just thought I’d test gravity real quick.”

A few chuckles rippled through the room, and his smirk deepened like he was enjoying this way too much. You, on the other hand, wanted to launch yourself into the sun.

With what little dignity you had left, you forced a quick, tight-lipped smile at him before turning on your heel and continuing forward, clutching your tablet like it was a life raft in the middle of the worst social shipwreck imaginable.

At the front of the room, Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson stood with the kind of posture that said he had zero time for nonsense, waiting for the room to settle. You barely had time to take a deep breath before his voice cut through the air.

“Alright, listen up.” His tone was crisp, commanding, and impossible to ignore. “This is Dr Y/N L/N. Everything she is about to tell you is highly classified. What you hear in this briefing does not leave this room. Understood?”

A chorus of nods. "Yes, sir."

You barely resisted the urge to physically cringe as every pilot in the room turned to stare at you—some with confusion, others with barely concealed amusement, and a few with the sharp assessing glances of people who had no clue what they were supposed to do with you.

You cleared your throat, squared your shoulders, and did your best to channel even an ounce of the confidence you usually had when you were coding at 3 AM in a secure, pilot-free lab—where the only judgment you faced was from coffee cups and the occasional system error.

As you reached the podium, you forced what you hoped was a composed smile. “Uh… hi, nice to meet you all.”

Solid. Real professional.

You glanced up just long enough to take in the mix of expressions in the room—some mildly interested, some unreadable, and one particular moustached pilot who still had the faintest trace of amusement on his face.

Nope. Not looking at him.

You exhaled slowly, centering yourself. Stay focused. Stay professional. You weren’t just here because of Ethera—you were Ethera. The only one who truly understood it. The only one who could execute this mission.

With another tap on your tablet, the slide shifted to a blacked-out, redacted briefing—only the necessary information was visible. A sleek 3D-rendered model of the enemy satellite appeared on the screen, rotating slowly. Most of its details were blurred or omitted entirely.

“This is Blackstar, a highly classified enemy satellite that has been operating in a low-Earth orbit over restricted airspace.” Your voice remained even, and steady, but the weight of what you were revealing sent a shiver down your spine. “Its existence has remained off the radar—literally and figuratively—until recently, when intelligence confirmed that it has been intercepting our encrypted communications, rerouting information, altering intelligence, and in some cases—fabricating entire communications.”

Someone exhaled sharply. Another shifted in their seat.

“So they’re feeding us bad intel?” one of them with big glasses and blonde hair asked, voice sceptical but sharp.

“That’s the theory,” you confirmed. “And given how quickly our ops have been compromised recently, it’s working.”

You tapped again, shifting to the next slide. The silent infiltration diagram appeared—an intricate web of glowing red lines showing Etherea’s integration process, slowly wrapping around the satellite’s systems like a virus embedding itself into a host.

“This is where Ethera comes in,” you said, shifting to a slide that displayed a cascading string of code, flickering across the screen. “Unlike traditional cyberweapons, Ethera doesn’t just break into a system. It integrates—restructuring security protocols as if it was always meant to be there. It’s undetectable, untraceable, and once inside, it grants us complete control of the Blackstar and won’t even register it as a breach.”

“So we’re not just hacking it," The only female pilot of the team said, arms crossed as she studied the data. “We’re hijacking it.”

“Exactly,” You nodded with a grin.

You switched to the next slide—a detailed radar map displaying the satellite’s location over international waters.

“This is the target area,” you continued after a deep breath. “It’s flying low-altitude reconnaissance patterns, which means it’s using ground relays for some of its communication. That gives us a small window to infiltrate and shut it down.”

The next slide appeared—a pair of unidentified fighter aircraft, patrolling the vicinity.

“And this is the problem,” you said grimly. “This satellite isn’t unguarded.”

A murmur rippled through the room as the pilots took in the fifth-generation stealth fighters displayed on the screen.

“We don’t know who they belong to,” you admitted. “What we do know is that they’re operating with highly classified tech—possibly experimental—and have been seen running defence patterns around the satellite’s flight path.”

Cyclone stepped forward then, arms crossed, his voice sharp and authoritative. “Which means your job is twofold. You will escort Dr L/N’s aircraft to the infiltration zone, ensuring Ethera is successfully deployed. If we are engaged, your priority remains protecting the package and ensuring a safe return.”

Oh, fantastic, you could not only feel your heartbeat in your toes, you were now officially the package.

You cleared your throat, tapping the screen again. Ethera’s interface expanded, displaying a cascade of sleek code.

“Once I’m in range,” you continued, “Ethera will lock onto the satellite’s frequency and begin infiltration. From that point, it’ll take approximately fifty-eight seconds to bypass security and assume control."

Silence settled over the room like a thick cloud, the weight of their stares pressing down on you. You could feel them analyzing, calculating, probably questioning who in their right mind thought putting you—a hacker, a tech specialist, someone whose idea of adrenaline was passing cars on the highway—into a fighter jet was a good idea.

Finally, one of the pilots—tall, broad-shouldered, blonde, and very clearly one of the cocky ones—tilted his head, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed too much confidence.

“So, let me get this straight.” His voice was smooth, and confident, with just the right amount of teasing. “You, Doctor—our very classified, very important tech specialist—have to be in the air, in a plane, during a mission that has a high probability of turning into a dogfight… just so you can press a button?”

Your stomach twisted at the mention of being airborne.

“Well…” You gulped, very much aware of how absolutely insane this sounded when put like that. “It’s… more than just that, but, yeah, essentially.”

A slow grin spread across his face, far too entertained by your predicament.

“Oh,” he drawled, “this is gonna be fun.”

Before you could fully process how much you already hated this, Cyclone—who had been watching the exchange with his signature unamused glare—stepped forward, cutting through the tension with his sharp, no-nonsense voice.

“This is a classified operation,” he stated, sharp and authoritative. “Not a joyride.”

The blonde’s smirk faded slightly as he straightened, and the rest of the pilots quickly fell in line.

Silence lingered for a moment longer before Vice Admiral Beau Cyclone Simpson let out a slow breath and straightened. His sharp gaze swept over the room before he nodded once.

“All right. That’s enough.” His tone was firm, the kind that left no room for argument. “We’ve got work to do. The mission will take place in a few weeks' time, once we’ve run full assessments, completed necessary preparations, and designated a lead for this operation.”

There was a slight shift in the room. Some of the pilots exchanged glances, the weight of the upcoming mission finally settling in. Others, mainly the cocky ones, looked as though they were already imagining themselves in the cockpit.

“Dismissed,” Cyclone finished.

The pilots stood, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out of the room, the blonde one still wearing a smug grin as he passed you making you frown and turn away, your gaze then briefly met the eyes of the moustached pilot.

You hadn’t meant to look, but the moment your eyes connected, something flickered in his expression. Amusement? Curiosity? You weren’t sure, and frankly, you didn’t want to know.

So you did the only logical thing and immediately looked away and turned to gather your things. You needed to get out of here, to find some space to breathe before your brain short-circuited from stress—

“Doctor, Stay for a moment.”

You tightened your grip on your tablet and turned back to Cyclone, who was watching you with that unreadable, vaguely disapproving expression that all high-ranking officers seemed to have perfected. “Uh… yes, sir?”

Once the last pilot was out the door, Cyclone exhaled sharply and crossed his arms.

“You realize,” he said, “that you’re going to have to actually fly, correct?”

You swallowed. “I—well, technically, I’ll just be a passenger.”

His stare didn’t waver.

“Doctor,” he said, tone flat, “I’ve read your file. I know you requested to be driven here instead of taking a military transport plane. You also took a ferry across the bay instead of a helicopter. And I know that you chose to work remotely for three years to avoid getting on a plane.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “That… could mean anything.”

“It means you do not like flying, am I correct?”

Your fingers tightened around the tablet as you tried to find a way—any way—out of this. “Sir, with all due respect, I don’t need to fly the plane. I just need to be in it long enough to deploy Ethera—”

Cyclone cut you off with a sharp look. “And what happens if something goes wrong, Doctor? If the aircraft takes damage? If you have to eject mid-flight? If you lose comms and have to rely on emergency protocols?”

You swallowed hard, your stomach twisting at the very thought of ejecting from a jet.

Cyclone sighed, rubbing his temple as if this entire conversation was giving him a migraine. “We cannot afford to have you panicking mid-mission. If this is going to work, you need to be prepared. That’s why, starting next week you will train with the pilots on aerial procedures and undergoing mandatory training in our flight simulation program.”

Your stomach dropped. “I—wait, what? That’s not necessary—”

“It’s absolutely necessary,” Cyclone cut in, his tone sharp. “If you can’t handle a simulated flight, you become a liability—not just to yourself, but to the pilots escorting you. And in case I need to remind you, Doctor, this mission is classified at the highest level. If you panic mid-air, it won’t just be your life at risk. It’ll be theirs. And it’ll be national security at stake.”

You inhaled sharply. No pressure. None at all.

Cyclone watched you for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly softer but still firm. “You’re the only one who can do this, Doctor. That means you need to be ready.”

You exhaled slowly, pressing your lips together before nodding stiffly. “Understood, sir.”

Cyclone gave a small nod of approval. “Good. Dismissed.”

You turned and walked out, shoulders tense, fully aware that in three days' time, you were going to be strapped into a high-speed, fighter jet. And knowing your luck?

You were definitely going to puke.

Part 2???

[drdemonprince]

this feels like a silly question but I know you have the answer. is hypnotism real? or is hypno kink just another form of roleplaying? Or something in between?

the trance states some people reach under hypnosis are undeniably a real thing! in fact, people enter into trance-like states in everyday life all the time! when you're zoning out on the highway, particularly engrossed in a book or movie, wrapped up in a fantasy, or even in a more receptive state while listening to a particularly compelling speaker or preacher, you are entering into a trance state! hypnosis is just one of the means by which a person can enter into this altered state of consciousness. people also reach trance by meditating, praying, engaging in repetitive tasks, and all kinds of other ways. trance is also highly similar to subspace, or even Domspace really, heightened mental states that people enter into after engaging in a kinky role under the right conditions.

research shows that when a person enters into a trance they are generally more vividly imaginative, receptive, and suggestible, and they may also be less inhibited and more able to access feelings and thoughts they are normally uncomfortable with. this can make it both a really meaningful state to enter into, and a potentially risky one to play with or have exploited by another person.

in practice, some people with hypnosis kinks only roleplay the activity (though because of the nature of how trance works, sometimes pretending to be in a trance can just get you into a trance!). other people are only interested in fictional depictions of hypnotic states in animated GIFs or stories or things like that. but a great many of us in the hypnosis fetish community do engage in actual hypnosis that is informed by what research is available on the matter, and work on developing new techniques for helping people achieve hypnotic states and experience particular phenomena while under hypnosis - for example hypnotic amnesia, hallucinations, hands-free orgasms, and any number of other conditioned responses.

for the average novice getting into the kink, the most you're going to experience at first is a feeling of relaxation and maybe some cute party tricks, or maybe a little extra intensity when taking on a different headspace, such as pup space or bimbofication. you might feel a little bit more at ease, silly, and able to take in suggestions and run with them. with practice and a seasoned hypnotist and hypnotic subject though, you can get into the realm of some pretty dramatic personality change and preference change kind of stuff. I've had entire whole new kinks inserted into me by hypnotists before that have stuck around for years. I didn't used to be until latex for example. I also learned how to deep throat exclusively from listening to hypnotic files and all the reviews indicate I'm damn good at it (The limitations of my small mouth not withstanding). hypnosis got me to learn to suppress my gag reflex really easily, and it's great for training physical relaxation and responses like these.

I've also had like breaks from reality from being in trance states for days or weeks at a time with hypnotic mantras running in the back of my brain telling me that I'm a robot I'm not a person and stuff, and known people who have experienced psychotic breaks from pushing the throttle on certain forms of hypnotic play too heavily when they were already vulnerable to that kind of thing, so you can reach really high highs and low lows with this stuff. That's if you have the right mindset and dedication to it, it's not magic. but it is a lot like being in a cult, or being under another person's influence in some other way. humans are far more susceptible to influence than they realize sometimes.

[kiwriteswords]

Hiii sorry if this is too late for missing scenes Monday (or maybe this can be Thirsty Thursday!) but I'm thinking of post-Reaper attack between 5x01 - 5x02, Hotch having a secret fuck buddy/friend with benefits to work out his frustrations 👀

Because that's what I want to be for him lol

The Aftermath [Aaron Hotchner x Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: >>>1k|| AN: Not too late! My apologies for it being so short! Thank you for sending in and being a part of my 2k celebration! <3 *note, I think I will not be tagging my usual taglist in these, as I do not want everyone to have their notifications blown up by my short drabbles and/or excessive posting for this event!*

Tags/Warnings: female reader, canon typical themes, canon typical injuries, spoilers-ish to 5.01/5.02, hurt!hotch, sexual themes, friends-with-benefits, fade to black smut, sexual tension, caregiver!reader, BAU!Reader, mdni

Summary: Hotch thinks the benefits part of your 'friends with benefits' situation may really help the way he's feeling when recovering from being attacked by The Reaper.

Your heels clicked softly against the hardwood floor of Aaron Hotchner’s apartment, the sound muffled by the pervasive silence that seemed to hang heavily in the air. The door had been left unlocked, just as he’d texted you it would be, a small act of trust that you didn’t take lightly, especially now.

As you entered, you paused for a moment, struck by his appearance. Hotch was sitting on the couch, his posture unusually rigid against the softness of the cushions. His face was drawn, the remnants of pain evident in the tight set of his jaw and the way his eyes briefly closed when he adjusted his position. The bandages peeking out from under his shirt near his neck served as a jarring reminder of the attack that had nearly taken his life.

You took in the surroundings of his apartment. On the coffee table sat a prescription, which looked unopened, and a cup of coffee--likely the only thing he had eaten or drank in the last 48 hours since being home. 

“Hotch,” you said softly, keeping your voice gentle, not wanting to startle him.

He opened his eyes, and a flicker of relief passed through them as he saw you. “You came.”

“I said I would.” You set down the bag of groceries you’d brought with you in the kitchen, making a mental note to fill his fridge with something more substantial than takeout containers and old coffee. 

Over the months, your relationship had evolved into a convenient arrangement of late-night visits and quiet departures--no promises made, no strings attached. But today was different. You felt different seeing him. Your eyes caught the cut out spot on the carpet, a mental reminder that you almost didn’t see him again. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I was stabbed in the chest,” he replied dryly, a hint of his usual stoicism laced with dark humor. You knew this was his way of coping, of grounding himself back to reality.

Walking over to him, you took a seat on the other end of the couch, giving him space yet staying close enough to share warmth. “I can imagine that doesn’t feel great.”

He watched you, his gaze intense and searching. His voice was rough, and he said, "I...I could use a different kind of distraction, though."

The atmosphere thickened, laden with unspoken yet palpable tension. This was always the dance you two did so well--words veiling more profoundly, unsaid things. It worked this way--it did. You weren’t itching to label things, but the way your heart quicked seeing him so…so raw. So vulnerable.

Since the attack, since Foyet, everything felt more intense, more serious. Your relationship, hidden under the guise of late-night visits and stolen moments at work, now bore the weight of his near-death experience.

“Hotch, you need to rest,” you said, reaching out tentatively to adjust a cushion behind him, your hand brushing against his arm. The contact sent a familiar jolt through you, but you focused on his comfort rather than the building tension.

“I am resting,” he insisted, though the edge in his voice told you it was the last thing he felt. Trapped in his apartment, in his body that hadn’t fully healed, in his mind that never stopped--rest was a foreign concept to him. "I could use some company...maybe a bit more, if you’re up for it."

You paused, your heart skipping a beat. "Aaron, I don't think that’s a good idea," you said gently, worried about his physical condition. You looked down to the gauze peeking out from the hem of his shirt. The bandaged spon on his arm from where the IV was. The bruising on his cheek. 

"I need this," he pressed, his expression earnest. He waved a hand toward his bandaged torso with a grimace, an awkward reminder of his vulnerability. "I need to feel something other than this, even if it's just for a moment."

You swallowed hard, your resolve wavering. This was uncharted territory. The casual ease of our previous encounters hadn't prepared us for the raw edges of such real need. "I’m afraid of hurting you," you confessed, feeling the weight of his gaze intensify.

"I'm not made of glass," he countered softly, a hint of his usual firmness returning. "And I trust you. You’ve always known where to draw the line, haven't you?"

The weight of his trust in you, in your understanding of his limits, made your decision for you. Slowly, you moved closer, still cautious but now with a new purpose. "Okay, but at any sign that it's too much--"

He reached out, his hand finding yours, his touch gentle yet certain. "I'll let you know," he promised, his thumb brushing against your skin soothingly.

"Let's take it slow," you suggested, leaning in to place a soft kiss on his forehead, a gesture of care mingled with the promise of more.

"Slow is perfect," he agreed, his other hand coming up to cradle your face, bringing you closer for a gentle, probing kiss that spoke of gratitude and need.

The kiss deepened gradually, more about connection than passion, yet it stirred a familiar heat within you both. Hotch remained careful, mindful of his injuries, but his kisses grew more insistent, fueled by a mixture of frustration and desire. Each touch was a whisper against your skin, a silent conversation between comfort and desire, pulling you deeper into the complexity of our connection.

As you responded, matching his intensity, the world outside his recovery, the pain, and the medications momentarily faded. Here, in this quiet space filled only with the sound of shared breaths, you pulled back slightly, checking his expression for any sign of discomfort. "Are you okay?" you asked, breathless.

"More than okay," he assured you, his eyes bright for the first time since the attack. "I need this...I need you. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me for that," you whispered, settling beside him. Here, with Hotch, you were both finding a way to mend, a path forward that allowed him to heal not just in body but in his spirit.

[sugarphoric]

wrote this with lds zayne + sylus, jjk toji + suguru in mind, but could work for whoever :D

holding your face by your chin (and theres no one way they do this) (that one diagram)

asking you (almost demanding, but never controlling) "look at me", "ive asked you a question.", "cmon pretty, i know you can do better than that", "behave.", affirmative and direct.

they looove giving kisses to the top of your head, hairline, forehead

your voices equally wrecking each other as much as they do to you (hed be a liar if he said he doesnt purposefully leave you to go on voicemail sometimes just to have your voice saved (it initially happened as an accident, but every once in a blue moon hed indulge himself))

"i know, baby, i know"

when they get mad its like a brewing storm, more of an impending presence rather than fast, harsh lightning. oh hed be a fool to hurt you, but he knows where boundaries need to lie for the sake of you and him both (hes easy to crack, he can never stay mad at you for too long)

loove giving back hugs, at least one hand on your lower stomach (and whos to blame him to think of you as a mama, creating life to your and his children? it may be a dream for now but always a hopeful plead to reality). his chin resting on your head, or even coming around to the side of your neck giving you soft pecks

love receiving hugs with both your arms around his neck, face cradled between his chin and chest, nose smushed against him, heavily breathing up his scent

ugh they love spoiling you, especially when it comes to food. if you say youre not hungry, he'll still order your favorite portions, or order his meal a size up, knowing youll soon be munching on them happily, "stealing" just a bite (he'll let you eat the whole thing even if he gets to starve). finds so much joy in bringing a utensil up to your mouth, allowing you to eat from his hand, always enjoying the sight when your eyes light up in delight when you try something good

theyre just sooo dominant, a natural leader, again a brooding presence- theyre seen not being the forefront of the group but always being the one that people lean on, the one in charge like everyone knows who to go to. they take pride in this but always know to never fall in it, understanding when to play when the time comes. its even better when they find pleasure and amusement when you lead, always soo happy to see you acting out for your own fulfillment (theyll do anything to satisfy you). and once youre done, hes always there, solid and strong (he never was not leading even throughout when you were)

[that-hazbin]

Media Demon AU

Could also shove him at Charlie, by then(Vox arrived in 50's-ish?) Vox’s ego must have taken a serious bashing, humbling even, never a Overlord, his dreams completely incompatible with hell. He tries to be artistic, he really does but he's just never quite good enough, too money focused, too narrow minded. Charlie trying to get Vox to think outside the Box.

Escapism is the name of the game in this new hell, the Media Demon who went to hell and changed Pride. He sponsors artists new and old who create things that angels would weep over if given the chance. (countless people who never go the chance in life are the second comings of artistic masters) Hell as a colourful cultural hotpot, a community of peoples instead of just a wretched hive of scum and villany.

I think Alastor would sooner beat Vox with a severed arm before he let him anywhere near Charlie. Vox may be different this time around, but simply put, Alastor just doesn't trust him. At All. Especially considering the fact that Vox has the potential for literal brainwashing; just because Vox didn't grow powerful enough to discover that ability doesn't change the fact that he one day could. And Alastor knows from experience that Vox can very easily turn into a piece of shit the second he starts feeling powerful. It's a risk he isn't willing to take, especially with Charlie on the line.

You're right about pride becoming a cultural hotpot. The idea is that the Pride Ring actually becomes something that embodies pride; everyone is given the chance to show off their talents, have pride in their work without fear of consequences. It doesn't matter your background, your race, your financial situation, your disability. You're given support to show what you can do. And Alastor set it up that way on purpose. It breeds an environment perfect for making Charlie's redemption idea a reality, and makes sinners look less like unsalvageable monsters.

(In fact, it may be a way to get the exorcists second-guessing. Imagine coming down to slaughter people, only to see the streets clean, adorned in art, tasteful architecture around every corner, and hospital buildings armed to the teeth, damned determined to protect the sick and disabled. Who's the monster in this scenario? Can you call yourself righteous, doing what you're doing, when faced with this version of reality?)

[wisesoultarot]

What's going on in this connection?

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❤️‍🔥IMAGE 1:

It seems that both of you are acutely aware of each other's feelings and are treading carefully around the matter of your hearts. This delicate dance of emotions is palpable, as you navigate the complexities of your connection with a mix of excitement and trepidation. While you both relish the time spent together, sharing laughter and engaging in captivating conversations that seem to flow effortlessly, there is an underlying current of hesitance that prevents either of you from taking any decisive action.

The moments you share are filled with warmth and understanding, yet there remains an unspoken tension in the air. Neither of you has openly communicated your true feelings, which has led to a silence that belies the undeniable connection and attraction that exists between you. This silence is not merely a lack of words; it is a profound acknowledgment of the depth of your bond, one that both of you sense but struggle to articulate or confront.

You may find yourselves stealing glances, feeling the weight of unexpressed emotions, and wondering what the other is thinking. Each interaction is laced with a mixture of hope and uncertainty, as you both grapple with the fear of vulnerability and the potential consequences of revealing your hearts. The fear of disrupting the delicate balance of your relationship looms large, creating a barrier that feels insurmountable at times.

I believe that you will each need some time to ponder the situation and figure out what this all means for your relationship. This period of reflection is crucial, as it will allow you both to explore your feelings more deeply and consider what you truly want moving forward. It may be beneficial to take a step back and assess the dynamics at play, weighing the risks and rewards of opening up to one another.

In this time of contemplation, you might find clarity in understanding the nature of your connection. Are you both ready to embrace the possibility of something more, or do you prefer to maintain the status quo for now? Whatever the outcome, it is essential to honor your feelings and those of the other person, as this will ultimately guide you toward a resolution that feels right for both of you.

As you navigate this intricate emotional landscape, remember that communication is key. When the time feels right, consider finding a way to express your thoughts and feelings, even if it feels daunting. The potential for a deeper connection is there, waiting to be explored, and with patience and honesty, you may discover a path that leads to a more fulfilling relationship.

❤️‍🔥IMAGE 2:

At this moment, you may find yourself in a phase of your relationship characterized by a lull, a period where the usual vibrancy and connection seem to have faded. This can happen for a variety of reasons; perhaps both you and your partner are preoccupied with the demands of daily life—work, family obligations, personal challenges—that leave little room for nurturing your bond. This preoccupation can lead to a sense of disconnection, where conversations feel superficial, and the emotional closeness you once shared seems to be slipping away.

For those who have faced a definitive end to their relationship, the emotional toll can be particularly profound. The process of navigating through the aftermath of a breakup can be overwhelming, as you grapple with a complex mix of grief, sorrow, and heartache over what has been lost. Memories of shared moments, dreams for the future, and the simple comfort of companionship can weigh heavily on your heart. The journey through this emotional landscape often feels isolating, as you confront the reality of moving on while still holding onto the remnants of what once was.

On the other hand, there are individuals who are finding the strength to let go of their past relationships. This process is not without its challenges, but it can also be liberating. Embracing the journey of moving forward without a particular individual allows for personal growth and self-discovery. Many are learning to express gratitude for the experiences shared, recognizing that even though the relationship has ended, it contributed to their development and understanding of love. This perspective can foster resilience and open the door to new possibilities, both in terms of personal fulfillment and future relationships.

If you find yourself in a state of pause with your partner, it’s important to reflect on the factors that may be contributing to this stagnation. Past events or unresolved issues can create obstacles that hinder your ability to progress together. There may be lingering feelings of hurt or disappointment that have not been addressed, leading to a reluctance to fully engage with one another. Additionally, an underlying fear of fully trusting one another can create a barrier to deeper intimacy. This fear may stem from previous experiences, either within the current relationship or from past relationships, where trust was broken or betrayed.

Uncertainty about the future of your connection can further complicate matters. Questions about where the relationship is headed, whether both partners are on the same page, and what commitment looks like moving forward can create anxiety and hesitation. This uncertainty can manifest as a reluctance to open up emotionally, leading to a cycle of disconnection that can be difficult to break.

❤️‍🔥IMAGE 3:

This situation reflects a profound and enduring bond that has existed between the two of you for quite some time, a connection that has weathered various trials and tribulations. The history you share is rich with memories, both joyful and painful, and it is clear that the emotional ties that bind you are not easily severed. I sense that both of you are yearning for forgiveness from one another, a deep desire to heal the wounds that have caused distance and misunderstanding. This longing may even extend beyond the two of you, as you might find yourselves reaching out to a higher power or the universe, seeking guidance and support in hopes of rekindling the connection that once brought you so much joy.

However, despite this mutual yearning, it appears that neither of you is taking the necessary steps to bridge the gap that has formed between you. Both of you seem to be in a state of receptivity, almost as if you are waiting for the other to make the first move. This passive approach may stem from fear, uncertainty, or a desire to protect yourselves from further hurt. You may find yourselves manifesting the possibility of reunion, envisioning a future where the bond is restored, yet without action, these dreams remain just that—dreams.

For true healing and reconciliation to occur, it is essential that at least one of you takes the initiative to extend forgiveness. This act of forgiveness is not merely about absolving past grievances; it is about acknowledging the pain, understanding the circumstances that led to the rift, and choosing to move forward with compassion and empathy. It requires vulnerability and courage to reach out, to express your feelings, and to show a willingness to work towards mending the relationship.

[earlgreylatte]

Nothing to Declare

You and Mark try not to sync up your breakdowns.

Watching Mark solemnly gaze at his phone, his call with Amber cut because of the ship’s rising altitude, you shift, fiddling with your camera’s settings.

“It’s not too late to back out,” you suggest, “I should be fine to go on my own. Honestly, this might be overkill.”

“No way,” he immediately refutes, looking back at you, “I’m not letting you go to a planet that’s who knows where by yourself. And, honestly? You should still be resting. You can only now just eat solids—“

You press a hand to your abdomen. It’s been months now since your dad impaled you with his bare hand and took off. If you weren’t you, you’d be killed instantly.

You brought back into reality when Mark places a hand on your shoulder, “I just mean…you shouldn’t be pushing yourself back into work so soon. You’ve been going at it for years now.”

You grimace at the reminder, “I could say the same to you. You don’t need to put others before yourself all the time. You’re missing your first week of lectures, for god’s sake.”

“It’s fine, William will cover for me,” he shakes his head.

“You better take him flying when you get back.”

“I guess you’re right…”

“You guess?”

You and Mark take a seat as you see stars shine outside the ship’s windows.

The Thraxan piloting the ship, speaks up, “Are you comfortable, Mark Gray—sorry, Invincible, Singularity?”

“Very plush seats,” you compliment.

“Yeah, thanks,” Mark responds, sullenly. “How long until we get to Thraxa?”

“Approximately six of your Earth days!” The alien informs.

You eye your brother as he sighs and slumps into his seat. “Space sucks…”

You don’t disagree.

Mark shakes you awake, you try to batt your hand at him, “We’re here. Finally.”

Staring out the windows, you immediately notice the violet colour of the planet and its architecture, maybe you’ll take a picture or two. When the planetary threat was extinguished, of course.

Exiting the ship, you and Mark find yourselves surrounded by Thraxans starting at you two in awe, whispers of excitement filling the air. You take a picture. You can multitask.

“Uh, hi?” Mark offered.

Your alien guide, leans in, “Don’t mind them! The monarch wants to meet you at once!”

Mark steps forward first, into the direction of the purple palace at the centre of the city, cubic and with waterfalls. You snap another photo as two children duck under Mark’s arm, laughter filling the air as they eagerly try to take the lead.

For a planet on the cusp of supposed doom, they sure are cheerful.

“It’s certainly tranquil here,” you murmur.

“Wait, what exactly about this planet needs saving?” Mark questions, looking around. “What about the meteors?”

“Meteors? What meteors?”

You and Mark stop walking, and blankly stare at the Thraxan.

“The ones that are killing billions?”

“Ah, those meteors! Must be a touch of dementia, we age much quicker than you humans, you know! Don’t worry, the monarch will explain all!”

You and Mark exchange a look.

“Bro.”

Finally making your way in the Monarch’s abode, the outer-worldly architecture now filling up your camera’s gallery, you notice Mark softening at the serene aura encompassing your surroundings.

Approaching a grand and very red staircase, you observe what must be a throne like area above.

“Your Majesty,” the alien beckons making way for you, three Thraxans turning to look down at your party. “May I present Invincible and Singularity of Earth.”

You and Mark take a kneel, awkwardly lowering your heads in respect.

The Thraxans part, and your hear heavy footsteps sound against the floor. The ruler.

“Hello, kids,” A warm and agonizingly familiar voice greets.

Mark gasps and jolts up but you keep your head down for a second before slowly lifting your head up.

Your father, with his hand outstretched, smiles down at you two, “It’s been a while.”

“…Dad?”

You pull off your mask, letting it fell to the floor.

“Dad?” You call, as your brother clenches his fists next to you, breath shuttering, “Dad!”

You fly to embrace him, tears burning your eyes. He catches you, like he always does, strong arms wrapping around your form, bring a hand up to cradle your head that’s buried against his shoulder. You hear his heartbeat thump, slow and calm. You can almost pretend things are normal again.

“I…missed you two,” he admits.

Mark shouts your name, a thunder you’ve never heard in his voice before. The spectating Thraxans flinch, as Mark rips off his mask, approaching you with measured steps, grabbing you by the arm to pull you away and behind him as he stares down your father.

“This was all you? Bringing us here?” He grits out, “The Thraxans told us they needed help, but that was another one of your lies?”

“They do need your help,” your dad responds.

“Why?” He squeezes out, his grip on your arm tightening.

“It’s complicated. Come with me—“

“No, WHY did you lie to us again?” Your brother’s glare hardens, “You killed thousands of people. You nearly killed your own daughter after scaring her into silence! Who knows what else you did to her! You stuck a hand through her, like—-like she was nothing!”

You bite your lip, “Mark—“

“Why would you think we would ever want to see you again? That you would even deserve it. You called mom a pet,” his voice breaks.

“You broke her heart,” you whisper, backing away.

Your dad calls your names, “I need your help—“

Mark sighs, tired, before gesturing to the aliens standing behind your father, “And you made them lie to us?”

“Just listen—“

“I don’t need to listen to anything you say,” he retorts, turning away and pulling you with him.

“Look, I made a mistake. I thought about you two every day—“

“A mistake!?” Mark shouts, twisting around to face your father.

“Son—“

“No, you don’t get to call me that anymore!”

“What do you want me to say?” Your father looks defeated.

“You could have started with ‘I’m sorry’!”

A moment of silence passes over you.

“You know what? Don’t bother, alright? It wouldn’t mean anything anyways. I hope you like it here with your new friends,” Mark asserted, “Guess they don’t know you the way we do.”

You breathe out, “We can’t go back to how things were, dad. Not after everything.”

You follow Mark as he makes to leave, the latter glancing behind him.

“Fuck you.” Were his final words before you two took off into the sky.

You hear your father follow.

“You’ll never make it back on your own. It’s millions of miles, and you don’t know the way. Navigation was neither of yours strong suit. Come back, and we’ll talk,” your father explained, “Please.”

“And what are you going to do if we don’t? Knock out all my teeth again? Strand her in another planet with you to make a point?” he asks venomously, gesturing towards you before speeding up, you and your father following.

“I’ll get you a ship home, but there’s something you need to see first.” Your father bargains.

“No,” Mark refuses.

“Nol’Zak wasn’t lying to you, his people do need your help. Let me tell you why.”

“I don’t care.”

“I know that’s not true,” your father refutes.

“Mark,” you speak up, “If we leave now, we could risk being stranded for years or even forever without a way home. Let’s just help this planet and we can go home.”

Your brother slows to a stop with you, “Five minutes. For them, not you.”

He descends back down. You and your father hover for a moment.

“Dad,” you speak up, “If you try to do anything to Mark, I won’t hesitate this time.”

“I know.”

“So, you conquered this place, instead of Earth?” Mark notes.

“I didn’t conquer this planet, the Thraxans asked me to be their emperor.” Your father rebuffs, leading you through the palace halls before stopping at a door.

“Conqueror, emperor, what’s the difference?” Your brother mumbles.

“Consent, I guess?” You answer as you three enter a pastel coloured room, a lone female Thraxan standing within.

You and Mark watch in horror as your father… tongues her. You tried to step out of the room, but your back meets the door that closed automatically, the traitor.

The Thraxan turns to warmly greet you two, your father’s arm on her waist, oblivious to the looks on your faces, “Welcome to our home, my husband’s told me so much about you two.”

“Andressa,” your father near chides.

“What the fuck is going on,” Mark whispers, a second away from bursting.

With your back still against the door, you slowly slide down until you’re sitting on your knees.

“Did I mispeak?” Your stepmother asks as your father silently gestures for her to give you some space.

“I know this comes as a surprise—“

Your brother immediately interrupts him, “No shit, we’re surprised! What about mom?”

“I can’t go back to Earth, Mark. Not ever. That life is over.”

You and Mark stare at him, hurt, before your brother scoffs, “Alright, you’re all done with Earth. Super glad you got to show us how great your life is without us!”

You rise to your feet, “She’s still mourning you, beating herself up for not seeing you for what you really are, and you just—start over?”

You shake your head before moving a hand against the door to try to open it, Mark following behind you.

“That’s not what I wanted to show you.”

You bump your head against the door. “Fucking seriously…”

Mark whips around, “What else could you possibly mean—“

Nothing could prepare you for the sight of your dad holding a purple, but very human—-no, Viltrumite looking baby, his wife proudly at his side.

“Who is that?” Mark asks, denial etched on his face as you slowly raise your camera.

“This is your little brother,” your father introduces.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Your brother explodes as your shutter goes off, before turning to you, “Sis, what the fuck!?”

“Instinct,” you say, a little shellshocked, blankly staring at the trio in front of you.

You stare as your…new little brother coos, cradled to his mother’s chest. Mark continues to berate your father, who explains that Thraxans ages faster than humans, which is why he’s so big for what should be a newborn.

Mark shakes your shoulder before pointing at your dad, “Are you even paying attention!? He literally—-with a grasshopper! Say something!”

“He kinda looks like you,” you observe, “When you were that young.”

He stares at you incredulously.

Debbie: Who’s the father!?

Singularity, holding baby Oliver: The better question is ‘who’s the mother?’

Debbie: Oh, honey, I’ve always known—

Singularity: Excuse me?

Mark: Yeah, things are looking up, I think.

*

Donald: The Graysons are back on Earth, but Singularity seems to have a purple baby??

Cecil: The kid has a kid now? They’ve only been gone for two months!

Donald: That’s what Debbie seems to be saying right now, at least. Well, we don’t have any information on how pregnancy works for female Viltrumites—

Cecil: Listen in!

*

Mark: I can’t believe the last thing he says to us is to read his books—

Singularity: Huh?

Mark: You were passed out, and what books??

Singularity: …is Space Rider real?

*

Singularity: If anything happens to this baby, I will actually end it

*

Mark: You got a lot of nice photos when we weren’t being beaten to death.

Singularity: Yeah, I’ll probably get a decent amount for them, Thraxa is a pretty place.

Mark: What are you going to tell them when they ask where the photos are from?

Singularity: That’s the neat thing; I won’t.

Mark:

Lol, Singularity took a family photo for Nolan, instinct from doing baby showers and family photos as a freelancer…

Yes, we do see some canon divergence here with Mark being abrasive with Omni-man from the start! He literally saw his dad stick a hand through his sister’s stomach and then found out their dynamic was a lot more harmful than he could have ever known! Mark seems to hold Nolan’s actions towards others against him more than his own pain.

And, have you noticed a pattern where sometimes the eldest child will be the nicest/most forgiving to bad parents while the younger one is more unhinged? I’m the younger sibling hehe

I would describe Mark’s weakness to be his inexperience while Singularity’s weakness is because of her experience, being unable to handle violence and responsibility, starting out as a hero at such a young age. If she were a computer, she’d have really good hardware that could run Elden Ring without overheating but software from the 2000s.

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

[mariacallous]

By now you may feel scared and helpless. It’s how I felt this week. I had the same sick feeling I had watching UK political coverage before the pandemic. The government was just going to ignore the wave of deaths rippling from China to Italy and pretend it wasn’t happening? Really? That’s the plan?

This is another pandemic. Or a Chernobyl. It’s a bomb at the heart of the international order whose toxic fallout is going to inevitably drift our way.

My internal alarm bell, a sense of urgency and anxiety goes even further back. To early 2017, when I uncovered information about Cambridge Analytica’s illegal hack of data from Facebook while the company’s VP, Steve Bannon, was then on the National Security Council. That concept of highly personalised data in the control of a ruthless and political operator was what tripped my emergency wires. That is a reality now.

The point is that the shock and awe is meant to make us feel helpless. So I’m telling a bit of my own personal story here. Because part of what temporarily paralyzed me last week was that this is all happening while my own small corner of the mainstream media is collapsing in on itself too. The event that I’ve spent the last eight years warning about has come to pass and in a month, 100+ of my colleagues at the Guardian will be out of the door and my employment will be terminated. I will no longer have the platform of the news organisation where I’ve done my entire body of work to date and was able to communicate to a global audience.

But then, it’s all connected. We are living through an information crisis. It’s what underpins everything. In some ways, this happening now is not surprising at all. Moreover, many of the people who I see as essential voices during this crisis (including those above) are doing that effectively and independently from Substack as I will try to continue to do.

And, the key thing that the last eight years has given me is information. The lawsuit I fought for four years as a result of doing this work very almost floored me. But it didn’t. And I’ve learned essential skills during those years. It was part of what powered me to fight for the rights of Guardian journalists during our strike this December.

The next fightback against Musk and the Broligarchy has to draw from the long, long fight for workers rights which in turn influenced the fight for civil rights that must now power us on as we face the great unknown. What comes next has to be a fight for our data rights, our human rights.

This was former Guardian journalist Gary Younge on our picket line and I’ve thought about these words a lot. You have to fight even if you won’t necessarily win. Power is almost never given up freely.

IT IS A COUP

[queenlytheeastrobabe]

Black History Month Astro Observations:

Art, Music & Dance shown in the Natal Chart

Astro Content created by @queenlytheeastrobabe copyrights reserved to QueenlyDelights. PSA: Don't. Be. A. Dick, Don't plagiarize or steal my work. You may share, like, & comment on this post. Give credit where credit is due! Thank you For Black History Month,

I've collected a sample of black female artists and their placements that I enjoy listening to from the Neo-Soul, Rap, Afro-beats, R&B, and Alternative genres.

Amber Mark

Photo by Nelson Huang

Birth Number 2: Balance, communication, romantic, justice, Moon, Lover girl Life Path Number 9: Mars, Jupiter, expansion, connection to the masses/foreign cultures, humanity, teacher & student Amber's Sun, Venus, Mars, Mercury in Capricorn: Amber's music has a detailed structure and her voice is earthy and intentional. The visuals for her album and music videos are ethereal and reflect the spiritual expansion & trust within. Amber's Cancer moon explains her strong connection with her maternal roots and raw emotional depth. North Node in Sagittarius: Her childhood of being raised in Europe, Asia, and New York has influenced her connection to various cultures in her music.

Chaka Khan

*Photo courtesy of Ridgefield Playhouse

Birth Number 5: Sun, Solo artists, Music, Dance, Art, Children, Self Expression, Mercury Life Path Number 8: Saturn, Karmic duty, Wealth, Legacy, and becoming a Household name, Powerhouse. Aries Sun in 6th House: Chaka's Martian persona is heavily prominent in the service to her community & amongst her audience. She was a former Black Panther and was the sole female singer in her former band, Rufus. Her music will continue to stand the test of time for generations to come. Pluto conjunct Leo MC 17th°: Brought synergy in her art making her stand out in her career and the music industry. She was a member of the funk band, Rufus in the early 70's that brought amazing hits from that era. Pisces Mercury in 5th House: The way she expresses herself in music is romantic, soulful, and passionate. Taurus Jupiter , Mars & Venus : All ruled by Venus. Chaka is a lover girl that embodies romance and sensuality.

Doechii

*Photo source: Michael Buckner / Getty

Birth Number 5: Music, dance, theater, sports, creativity ( She participated in gymnastics, dance, cheerleading, and tap dance in school) Life Path Number 8: Wealth, Saturn, karmic lessons, discipline, powerhouse. Ambitious. Leo Sun, Mercury, Venus: Made a name for herself with her boisterous, humorous nature. Sexual, cat-like features. Drive & hunger to succeed. Also known as " The Swamp Princess". Cancer MC & Mars: Healthy expression of anger, emotions, and self reflection in her art. Listen to "Wait" Her new album "Denial is a River" is a reflection of the shadow work and the reality of being an artist drumming to her own beat. Jupiter in Pisces: Music is her sanctuary and religion. She writes empowering music that can be used as affirmations & mantras. Spiritual liberation and relatable storytelling.

Hemlocke Springs

*Photo by Angella Choe

Life Path Number 9: Mars, Jupiter, expansion, connection to the masses/foreign cultures, humanity, teacher & student Birth Number 7: mystery, intuition, healing, and wisdom. I discovered in an article, her stage name "Hemlocke" came from a name generator and she added the "e" at the end to pay homage to Lorde. Hemlock is a plant and tree used for medicinal purposes. Scorpio Sun & Venus: Her music is centered around processing her intense emotions dealing with awkward phases, growth, love & heartbreak, depression, and lack of control. She places those feelings on upbeat, quirky, synth-pop melodies, adding depth from a playful and humorous space in her music. Jupiter in Pisces: Connecting to music is also a spiritual & emotional release for her. The lyrics of her song "pos" verse, "I was made for the war, fix eternal scars, But here I am rockin' with my flimsy camisole". I associated these lyrics with her plutonian/martian nature. Online Source: https://nbhap.com/blog/hemlocke-springs-parallel-universe

Lion Babe/Jillian Hervey

*Photo Source: Wikipedia/ photographer Ralph Arvesen

Birth Number 1: Natural leader, Sun, Leo, solo artist, ambitious, creativity, independent. Life Path Number 7: Mystery, intuition, knowledge, wisdom. Gemini Sun & Jupiter in the 11th House: Versatile, able to cross over into the Neo-soul & Dance/House genres. Taurus MC: Child artist, ballet, modern dance, and singer. Vanessa Williams introduced Jillian and her siblings to music & dance at two years old. Venus in Cancer in 12th house: Private family and love live. Her pregnancy & partnership with her bandmate, Lucas Goodman were a secret to the public until she announced it a month after giving birth to her son. Generational gifts passed from maternal lineage. Motherhood brought her closer to her mother. Jillian's Mars is 1° Leo and AS 29°: Critical degree. Her vitality is dedicated to the creation of music and family. Her voice is unique, like a lioness's roar. Known for her signature golden mane and melodic voice.

Noname/Fatimah Warner

*Photo sourced from genius.com

Birth Number 9: connection to humanity, global reach, spiritual, social issues, education. Jupiter, Mars. She uses her platform to bring awareness to social issues that include the injustice and exploitation within the black community. Life Path Number 2: Voice, collaboration, harmony, justice, Moon Mars in Libra in 11°, Sun & Mercury in Virgo: Witty storytelling with blunt lyrics. Her music reminds me of spoken word. I feel like Fatimah's lyrics are love letters to the community.

Ravyn Lenae

*Photo sourced from FADER/ photographer Brendan George Ko

Birth Number 4 : Stability, Saturn, hardworking, disciplined, attention-to-detail. Life Path Number 6: Venus, HARMONY, care, protection, collaboration, art, music, dance. Aries Moon & Jupiter in Pisces: Her beautiful red hair is very Arian. She tends to have hairstyles with red hair. Ravyn has no problem expressing her true and raw emotions. She repackages her experiences in a soft symphony of fluid, whimsical, soul touching melodies. She is classically trained in opera and as a singer-song writer. She grew up with a church background and sang as a soloist in her church choir. Pisces is comfortable in Jupiter which focuses on the expansion of spiritual wisdom and connection to authentic self. NN in Leo, Mars in Libra: Ravyn gracefully switches between various genre's and collaborate with various black artists from the alternative/indie, electronic, and hip-hop scene. Online source: https://www.thefader.com/2024/05/15/cover-story-interview-getting-lost-with-ravyn-lenae-birds-eye-2024

Shay Lia

*Photo sourced from FADER/ photographer Cary Tauben/Press

Birth Number 8: Wealth, Saturn, karmic lessons, disciplined, ambitious. Life Path 3: Mercury, communication, intellectual, creation with hands, childhood fulfillment Virgo Sun & Mercury - naturally uses hands to express themselves when they dance, sing, or talk. Her debut demo is "Virgo" which caught the eye of fellow Virgo DJ, Kaytranada who reached out to collaborate. Jupiter & Mars in Libra, Venus in Leo- Playful, cat-like, bold movements, wears colorful vibrant patterns. Her natural hair is a statement to embrace her roots. Shay's as an artist is sultry, flashy, and chic. She is a skilled dancer and her native language is Djiboutian French. France just so happens to be ruled by the signs Libra(Venus)&Leo( Sun).

Tems

*Photo sourced from GQ/ photographer Danny Kasirye

Birth Number 2: Collaboration, balance, intuition, Moon, going with the flow, compromise. Life Path 5: - Art, Music, Dance, creative self expression, play, children, adventure. Gemini Sun, Venus, MC, and Mercury RX:- She mentioned in her GQ interview that she was shy when she was young and didn't speak until later in her childhood. Her playful, sensual nature, coy nature is heard in her music when she sings. She comes out of her introverted shell and embodies her twin personality as a confident performer, similar to Beyonce & Sasha Fierce(Virgo sun/ruled by Mercury). NN & Scorpio moon: Her Sultry tones come from an origin of rich cultural & religious background (Nigerian & Christian). Pluto rules transformation, power, and isolation in a planet ruling her emotions.

Stay tuned for part II!

[valrayne-faeu]

Info about the Faewilds and Forming a Court

(long post incoming)

The Faewilds/the Wilds/Wildes/etc is the general term for any area in the fae realms that is not a part of a court. A court is considered a region of fae that has its own signature magic and (usually) a kingdom of some kind overseeing and organizing said fae.

The Wilds are a network of complex and varied regions that each have their own unique 'rules' and ecosystems. Some forests might require you to skip through them or you'll grow older with every step. You might have to cross a certain river backwards or you'll lose your voice. Some areas might have no consequences for breaking their rules, but the gravity is reversed. It is these rules/laws of reality that will cause any wayward traveller to likely not be the same after traversing the Wilds-- even if you think you made it through safely, there's no telling what you might have lost or had changed that you don't even realize.

Likewise, the fae beasts and other creatures of legend that live out in the Wilds each have their own rules for interaction that they're not likely to explain to you upon meeting. Any misstep with a wild fae or beast is liable to result in you losing something precious or being cursed.

There is precious little documentation of the regions, beasts, and their rules because they're so very complex and change--the magic and rules that make them up are ever shifting, and what worked once might be your doom now. All fae that have attempted to document the Wilds have endured much hardship and losses.

The magic of the Wilds is equally complex and varied-- each area is saturated in many different kinds, woven together and nigh inseparable, stronger in some areas, weaker in others, and even non-existent in some (you are not likely to find a thread of ice magic in a sweltering desert, for example). There is no one 'ruler' of the Wilds or even user of its magic because there is no one true 'Wild Magic'. The only way to harness a magic of the Wilds is to 'befriend' it, for lack of a better term.

All fae, in or out of a court, have magic they gravitate towards, and its these that they will find easier to identify and use. Things like the basic elements, or the sky, or time, or music are all examples of the categories of magic that can be utilised. It is nigh impossible to tame or bend the ambient magic to your will-- fae that use Wild magic need to be in tune with their specialisation and the 'spells' they cast are more requests than commands. A fae that attempts to force magic of a particular kind is more likely to have it backfire, or find the Wilds becoming more and more hostile to their presence. The Wilds are very much a living, complex being made up of many smaller 'consciousnesses', and to upset even a small piece of it will turn the whole against you.

Courts are formed when a particularly ancient or strong fae manages to distill a very specific type of magic and make a deal with it. The stronger the fae the more broad the category they can harness-- it would be the difference between forming a Seasonal Court and simply a Summer court, for example.

Millenia ago Nightmare and Dream's mother, Nimh, managed to form a pact with the Seasonal magic of the Wilds and secure large swathes of land for herself. Over many centuries fae from all over found safety and stability within her court and swore loyalty to her. It was over those many centuries that she built the foundations for what would eventually break apart into the four separated courts (Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter).

Had Dream and Nightmare been stronger and more experienced when she died, the courts may have been able to stay together. But at the time of the falling out they simply did not have the affinities for all of her magic-- Dream was only capable of utilising the magics of Summer and Spring, and Nightmare was limited to Winter and Autumn. Their falling out and Nimh's death caused the magic holding the courts together to falter and shatter, causing the emotional divides between them to manifest into very real magical and physical divides between the courts.

[g1rlinheadlights]

Introduction to my

My Hero Academia DR

First off with some basic information, I am a class 1-a hero course student at UA student in this reality. I am the first and only daughter of No. 5 pro hero Mirko—though I inherited my quirk from my late father.

⟡ ݁₊ . General Info ˎˊ˗

15 y/o & 5”0’

Yes, I changed Mirko’s last name to Nakamura

My name is Evangeline Nakamura, often I am referred to as my nickname Naki by close friends & family.

I was born November 11th — at 11:11 pm. ( I love angel numbers, especially 11:11, don’t judge me (╥﹏╥) )

:3

I grew up generally wealthy, as my Mother is a high-ranking pro hero. After my father’s passing, my Mom became even more eager to become a hero.

Through fashion design, my Mother met Mitsuki Bakugo—a fashion designer for heroes. Soon, they became close friends, and with this came my friendship with Katsuki (and, not long after, Izuku.)

:3

Unlike my mom, in middle school I was exceptionally studious yet timid. I never lacked friends or suffered from bullying, in fact many people tried to befriend me, but usually I did spend copious amounts of time on my own.

I’ve always been intelligent beyond bounds. ( ik this sounds very y/n-esk, let me have this guys.. (๑-﹏-๑) )

⟡ ݁₊ . Quirk Info ˎˊ˗

Meteorology

Hero Name? Nocturne — Why? Idfk (╥ᆺ╥；)

Okay, first off, I do have to admit I gained some of the idea for my quirk off of tiktok — but, my quirk has always been elemental-based, still the name was a direct result of me seeing it on a tiktok of a girl with a similar quirk to mine.. T_T

:3

Also known as "atmokinesis" or weather manipulation, my quirk is the ability to control the weather in all its forms. I can manipulate various aspects of weather using water, fire, earth, air, and lightning/electricity.

I possess atmokinetic desensitivity to all weather-based abilities and effects. Extreme cold, heat, or any intense atmosphere affects my body less than the average person.

My quirk is emotion-based, which means it becomes unstable when I'm unable to control my emotions, so I must be calm/in control of my emotions. Another requirement for my quirk to work to its full extent is an atmosphere, and my own electricity can cause scarring that takes a week or two to fade.

For example, if I'm upset, clouds form in my proximity or it may even start raining, depending on the intensity of my emotion. When I'm angry, wind picks up around me; in extreme cases, it can lead to thunder and lightning.

⟡ ݁₊ . Relations ˎˊ˗

Friends & S/O

Friends /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

My main group of friends would have to be bakugo’s group, since when we first start school at UA he’s one of the only people I knew & my only close friend. Plus, I’ve scripted Mina and I hit it off pretty quickly.

Once Izuku and I reconcile, I will become apart of his friendgroup in a way. I’ll hang out with them & speak with them a lot, as well as just being close friends with each individual in the ‘dekusquad’ as it’s been called.

:3

Ochaco, Mina, & I are going to be a trio I already know it!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) I already have it scripted that we’ll all become close, so I’m very excited for that.

I’ve also scripted once Katsuki and Izuku make up, and the war ends, we all reinstate our once extremely close bond from when we were kids. I’m VERY excited for that, I love them so muchh ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ

S/O /ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ

My s/o is Katsuki (˶‾᷄ ⁻̫ ‾᷅˵) I know this might be an unpopular s/o to have due to his personality, but I find him to be endearing & psychologically relatable. He means a lot to me on many levels, so even though he can be quite rude at times I’ll always love him. ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

idk if anyone will actually care for this, but it was soo fun to make & I love talking about this freaking reality so much!!! (˶˃ᆺ˂˶) if anyone wants to ask questions I’d luv to answer, I’m open to any kinds of questions except for obviously weird ones ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

[probablysimpledreams]

Surprise Valentine (Dabi x reader)

a/n: a little early v-day treat for you cuties<33 I'm still working on a Keigo piece for valentines day so that should be out soon (hopefully) lol I was working on it then went out and when I got home the idea for this fic washed over me so crazily I was like I HAVE to write it ahhh enjoy lovelies <33

wc: 1096

"I don't need a babysitter!" Toga huffed as she skipped down the dimly lit street, refusing to face Dabi who was following close behind. 

"I find that hard to believe," Dabi rolled his eyes. "I'm here for my own reasons, so just shut up and keep walking. We're almost there anyway." Toga stopped in her tracks, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she took in his words. Dabi was joining her to steal Valentine's Day treats and items from the store on his own accord? It could only mean one thing.......

"I knew it! You are in love!" the young girl beamed, completely invading Dabi's personal space as she danced around happily. "Love love love!"

"Ohmygod will you shut up?!" Dabi snapped back, looking down at his feet as he kept walking. He didn't want to admit it but Toga was right, he was in love with you. So much so that he wanted to be the sweet boyfriend who surprises you with cute gifts, despite his claim to dislike this and any other holiday. God love was embarrassing. 

"You didn't deny it," Toga teased, dodging the small flame he threw her way. Dabi just groaned in response, silently begging she'd leave him alone so he could grab what he needed and get out. 

After a few more steps and teasing remarks by Toga, the pair finally made it to the closed shop. Dabi swiftly cuts out any security cameras and locks, allowing the two to enter the shop. The isles were filled with a massive assortment of heart shaped candies, plushies, flowers, and other everyday items in pink or red to make buyers want to grab it. 

Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, Dabi was overwhelmed as he browsed the store. Everything felt so flashy, so forward, so lovey dovey. But none of it felt like him. If he was going to do something for you, he was going to make sure you could see the thought and love behind it. He may not be the most romantic man or the best with words, but he always made sure his actions told you exactly how he felt. Exactly how much he loved you. It had to be perfect. He needed to be the best boyfriend. He needed your love. He needed you to never leave him. He needed- 

"You're overthinking this dummy," Toga's voice snaps Dabi back to reality as she approaches him, hands full of heart shaped chocolates and little plushies. "I know you know what ______ likes, so just pick something and stick with the decision." 

Though it annoyed him, Toga's reassurance eased his thoughts. He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes before looking at the isles again with a new, refreshed mindset. This time a black cat plushie with a gold heart collar caught his eye. He chuckled as he remembered the countless times you'd say he reminded you of a cat or he had "black cat energy," whatever the hell that meant. As he went to grab it, his eyes began trailing upward and landed on a plushie that happened to be your favorite animal and color. A small smile tugs at his lips as he examines the item, noting it slightly resembled you as well. He decided to grab both plushies, snatching a pack of your favorite snacks before heading out with Toga. 

Once back at the hideout, Toga immediately began showing off her "shopping" haul to the rest of the League. This allowed Dabi to go unnoticed as he snuck out, headed straight to your apartment. He wakes you up by knocking on your window, blue eyes shining as he stares through the glass. 

"I'm begging you to use the front door," you sigh as you open the window, allowing him to climb into your room. You were still trying to catch your breath after he scared you wide awake by arriving here at 2 am without any prior warning.

"Mmm no can do sweetheart, gotta keep you on your toes," he grinned. 

"Why are you even here?" you yawned, urging him to join you on the bed. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, just isn't like you to show up without some kind of heads up. Everything okay?" His heart swelled at your concern. The way you loved him so gently, so purely made his head spin. That feeling only intensified as he remembered why he even came over in the first place. 

"I-uh-I have something for you." His eyebrows furrowed as he mentally scolded himself for sounding so nervous. Your eyes widen with excitement at his words. 

"For me?" you smile, looking at him. You could tell he was nervous which only made you smile grow. God he's so cute.

"Just take it," he grumbles. While it came off coldly, you knew he was just nervous. Everything about his relationship with you was new to him, and that scared him. Because of this you were always patient, and knew his actions showed his true emotions. That's why your jaw almost dropped when he handed you the plushies and snacks. 

"Stopppp is this us as plushies?" you happily asked as you examined the plushies. You already knew the answer though, smiling ear to ear as you hugged the soft and fuzzy items. 

"Thought you'd be into some corny shit like that," he chuckles, nerves slowly dissolving seeing you so happy. He hid his still trembling hands from your line of vision as he pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. "Happy Valentine's Day baby." 

"AHHH I love you!! I love you!!!" you cheered, pulling him to lay down on the bed with you. You moved to lay on top of him, covering his face with kisses before nuzzling into his neck. His arms tightened around you as you cuddled against him, smile still painted on your face. "Thank you for my gift." 

He hummed, small smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed your back gently. "Glad you liked it." 

"I have something for you too but," you yawned, "I'll give you it before I head to work in a few hours." Your eyes start falling shut as the warmth from Dabi's body lures you back to sleep. "Mmmmm good night, I love you."

"I love you too baby." Dabi leans down to kiss your lips before adjusting the way you're laying on him so you both could fall asleep comfortably. His arms tighten around you once again, reminding you he's not going anywhere as you both drift off to sleep.

[multiversediiva]

| The Five Senses "We walk by faith, not by sight."

You are a gardener who cultivates and grows fresh, succulent fruits, and you are envisioning a blooming strawberry bush in your backyard.  In your hands, you are holding a sachet of seeds and a watering pot. Now those seeds can be any plant of your choice - peaches, blueberries, roses - that seed is your desire. Your soil has been prepared well and is rich in nutrients. It drains well and is organic, giving it an acceptable structure (didn’t know this was turning into a gardening lesson…). You clear the ground and remove all unwanted weeds, rocks, and other debris that prevent this beautiful seed from growing, and you begin to assemble the planting beds. One by one, you begin to place each strawberry seed in the pits, covering them with a thin layer of soil to ensure regular development and germination. Water is a crucial step in gardening. It aids with transporting nutrients to the seed and helps it to flourish. So, you water your seeds consistently to prevent dryness and wilt.   You know that your seeds will eventually grow into a divine bush of delicious strawberries. You may not see the strawberries, you may not taste them yet but that’s okay! After all, you have the big three’s help: Sunlight, Water, and good soil. Your seed is your desire, the objective you wish to bring to life.

Your soil is your consciousness. Consciousness has to be taken care of like soil, providing it with positive declarations of ‘I AM’! The realisation of one’s power. Your consciousness has to be healthy. 

The sun is your subconsciousness. It’s there. it's always there to do its job - It sees the plant - your desire - that you want to grow, and it goes ‘okay, it’s my job to give this plant life and supply it with energy.’ In other words, it listens to your consciousness and finds ways to bring your desire into fruition. That is the sun's job, not yours. The undesired rocks, weeds, and debris are your doubts or insecurities, plucked out one by one to establish a healthy bed for your desire. Your water pots are your affirmations. No more than a simple reminder that goes ‘hey, trust what you’re doing, your desire is already blooming’. You wouldn’t overwater a plant, right? It won’t grow quicker, it’ll just die from stunted growth. Now comes the senses. You stare down at your plant beds after finishing. The seeds have been watered, the sun is shining, and the soil is healthy. But… Why do you not see the strawberries yet? Why didn’t they grow? Why aren't you eating a juicy, red strawberry right now? You gave them everything. You even visualised a whole garden of strawberry bushes. In the context of gardening, you’d think “well, duh! The roots grow inside the soil first, then they blossom and sprout outside the soil.”

The roots of your strawberry bush grow first. They are your circumstances, you don't see them but they're happening quicker than you think. Beneath the soil. Now am I saying that you should wait for the outer world to unfold in order for you to feel satisfied? ...No. Welcome to manifestation where the whole point of imagination (which somehow, everyone misses :I...) is to go back to it and feel fulfilled that your desire has already happened. How? That is none of your concern. Searching for the how will only lead to frustration, meaning LET. GO. OF. CONTROL. Imagination creates reality. Your senses may deny that in the moment, but you've already imagined yourself standing and feeling proud in front your strawberry bush, there's no more lack or need. There is no more conflict. You have it. Remain faithful to that imaginal act by watering your desire with gentle affirmations and reminders and the sun will work its magic in no time. "Let man disregard appearances and declare himself to be the man he wants to be. Let him imagine beauty where his senses reveal ashes, joy where they testify to mourning, riches where they bear witness to poverty. Only by such active, voluntary use of imagination can man be lifted up and Eden restored."

"When reason and the facts of life oppose the idea you desire to realise and you accept the evidence of your senses and the dictates of reason as the truth, you have brought the Lord - your consciousness - the gift of Cain. It is obvious that such offerings do not please Him."

"That an assumption, though denied by the evidence of the senses, if persisted in, will harden into fact."

- All by the wonderful Neville Goddard.

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

A First Zinemonth collection

Always a lot of games when it's time for Zinemonth and Zinequest So here are some of the games I saw that I am interested in (and whose crowdfunding finish sooner rather than later).

So here is 5 games from this year Zines

Catcrawl - An exploration game about a cat in a new home

By Plotbunny games

"You are a cat and have recently arrived in a new home. Now you're alone in this unfamiliar environment for the first time and set out to explore it. Will your exploration be cozy and cute or chaotic and destructive? (GM-less/solo TTRPG for 1-4 players)"

Already funded, Ends on Feb 21

Heavy Weighs the Crown, a solo RPG Zine

By Jason Price

Heavy Weighs the Crown is a game of magical crowns, the monarchs who wear them and the realms they rule together, for one player.

Already funded, Ends on Feb 15

PREQUEL RPG

By Ethan Yen

"PREQUEL is a tactical storytelling game of heroic sacrifice for 3-5 players.

You are the first group of Heroes that have reached the Evil that rules over the realm. The quest was difficult and full of sacrifice. Despite all this, victory will not meet you. However, the Heroes who come after you may still have a chance, provided you can pave the way. "

Already funded, Ends on Feb 16

The Worlds We Leave Behind

By Craig Duffy

"The Words We Leave Behind is a duet time travel RPG about the butterfly effect and the impact of small changes inspired by the novella This is how you lose the time war. As you traverse the time stream you will work to rewrite history for your Faction, while your opposite number attempts to counteract your Incursions and write their own story across time and space."

Already funded, Ends on Feb 18

CarQuest!: A Solo TTRPG of Outrageous Gig-Driving

By Daniel Kinney-Spears

"a solo tabletop RPG where you're not just a rideshare driver but a timeline-hopping, reality-defying driver taking on wizards, haunted cargo, cyberpunk villains, and downright bizarre passengers. Strap in: one minute, you might drop off a gremlin at a neon arcade; the next, you're dodging a whipped cream avalanche in a candy-kingdom dimension."

Not funded, Ends on Feb 22