#thr judgment day
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And losing the tag team titles🙃

#wwe#wwe lb#wwe raw#saturday nights main event#monday night raw#finn balor#finn bálor#liv morgan#thr judgment day
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That Was Mine
Title: That Was Mine
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You’ve held it together all day. The final straw? Someone stole your snack. Bucky makes sure you know you’re still allowed to fall apart - but only for him.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, established relationship, comfort sex, soft dom!Bucky, oral (f receiving), praise kink, emotional softness, body worship, panties pushed aside, slow grind to ruin, smutty kitchen sex.
A/N: my entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo for Spring Bingo Sorry I'm late to start this! Will have them all up in June! :)
Square: A4 - Stolen Snacks
Card Number: AAS001
You stared at the empty space in the cupboard like it had personally betrayed you.
You’d held it together. Through the botched recon brief that ended with you getting shoulder-checked into a wall. The two-hour debrief with Fury that circled the same five points and still managed to assign you clean-up duty. Through training drills with Natasha that left your muscles screaming, a cracked tablet that shorted out mid-field report, and a stray pulse round from testing Tony’s gear that seared through your glove. Through trying to calm a panicking rookie in the med bay and brushing off Steve’s attempt to talk about team morale while your ribs throbbed from the fall no one noticed.
But this?
This was too much.
Your last chocolate bar. The one you’d shoved to the back of the shelf, behind the rice cooker like a goddamn dragon hoard, and even labelled.
Gone.
You felt the tears before they came. That tight, angry pressure in your throat. The prickle behind your eyes. It was more than frustration, it was the weight of everything you'd swallowed down all day finally pushing up from your chest. A battle cry turned into a whimper.
You hated it.
Hated crying over something so stupid, hated how this tiny, ridiculous moment had cracked the dam you’d patched together with stubbornness and caffeine.
Your breath hitched. The cabinet blurred. You clenched your fists tighter. Maybe if you stood still enough, quiet enough, you could push the feelings back down where they belonged. Somewhere deep. Somewhere no one could see.
That’s how Bucky found you. Still standing there like a statue in mourning, shoulders drawn tight, fists white-knuckled, eyes locked on that empty shelf like you could will the universe to give you one goddamn break. Just one.
“Doll?” His voice behind you was soft. Careful. Like he already knew something wasn’t right.
You blinked, throat tight and eyes burning. “Fine.” It came out too fast, too brittle.
He stepped closer, his footsteps quiet on the kitchen tile. “Sweetheart…”
“They took it,” you whispered, voice barely audible.
“Took what?”
You sniffed and gave a shaky little laugh that didn’t reach your eyes. “My chocolate.”
He paused, one long second where you could feel him processing that. Then, with a low, understanding note in his voice. “Oh.”
You still didn’t turn around. Couldn’t. The heat in your cheeks was too much, and the tears were already pushing harder. “I just wanted one fucking thing today,” you said, the words gaining a tremble. “One thing. And someone… I don’t even know who, but someone went in and…”
Your voice cracked. A tear fell before you could catch it. You scrubbed it away with the back of your hand, furious at yourself for crying over something so small, but it wasn’t just the chocolate. It never was.
His body pressed in close, not just touching but anchoring, like he was stitching you back together with every inch of contact. You felt the brush of his stubble as he dipped his head closer, his breath warm against your ear.
“I got you,” he murmured, voice low and sure like it was a promise. “I got you, baby. Just breathe.”
You turned into his chest, burying your face in his shirt as more tears spilled free. His arms wrapped around you without hesitation. No teasing. No judgment. Just strength. Steady, unshakable warmth. You could feel his heartbeat through the fabric, solid and calm, syncing with your own stuttering rhythm like it was trying to coax you back to yourself. He smelled like leather and soap and something uniquely his. That grounding, familiar scent that always made you feel like home was wherever he stood.
He didn’t rush you. Didn’t ask what was wrong or try to fix it yet. He just stayed there, solid as ever, letting you feel every heartbeat in his chest and the slow, steady rhythm of his breath like it could replace the storm in your own.
He held you there for a long moment, rubbing his hand up and down your back, pressing a kiss to the top of your head without needing to say anything more yet. Just being held like that made your chest ache in a different way, an ache that felt like the release you'd been holding back all day.
“You wanna yell?” he asked, finally, his voice light but sincere. “We’ll go down to the training floor- think most of them are there- you can scream at every single one of those snack thieves until you feel better.”
A wet laugh hiccupped out of your throat. It surprised you, but you didn’t fight it. “It was probably Peter.”
“I’ll drop-kick him. Promise.”
That earned another laugh, softer now, your fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. You could feel his smile against your temple before you even looked up. And when you did, you caught the full picture- his brows drawn with worry, his jaw tight like it physically hurt him to see you upset, and his eyes so full of quiet love it made your knees go weak.
Every inch of his expression said it plain: You are safe. I’ve got you. I always will.
“You’ve had a hard day, huh?”
You nodded, swallowing back a fresh wave of emotion. Your lip trembled again, and this time you didn’t fight it. It felt like if you said even one word, everything would crack wide open again. Maybe you didn’t have the energy to pick the pieces up this time.
Bucky saw it. He always did. He didn’t push, didn’t fill the silence. Just stayed steady and warm at your side.
“Then let me fix it,” he said gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. His voice dropped even lower, like he was speaking to something raw in you. “Let me take care of my girl.”
You expected another hug. Maybe a kiss on the forehead. Maybe for him to lead you to the couch and tuck a blanket around your shoulders, like he sometimes did after a mission that ran too long or left you rattled. You expected soft words and gentler hands. The kind of quiet that didn’t ask anything from you.
But what you got was more. A presence that didn’t just hold you together, it reminded you that you didn’t have to be perfect to be loved. That your breaking point didn’t scare him away. That he’d carry it all if you let him.
You didn’t expect him to grip your hips and lift you onto the kitchen counter.
“Bucky- ” you gasped, palms braced against his chest, heat flushing up your neck. The cold countertop under your thighs only made his warmth feel more intense, more consuming. Like a fire had started under your skin and only he knew how to tend it.
But he was already stepping between your knees, lifting your skirt with slow, deliberate care. His fingers skimmed your thighs like they were something fragile, like he had all the time in the world to unwrap you, gaze locked on yours with a hunger that sent sparks straight through your core. Every brush of his knuckles sent goosebumps racing up your legs.
“You think you gotta hold it all in,” he murmured, lips grazing your jaw, his voice like velvet and smoke. “But you don’t. Not with me. You don’t have to be strong right now. You just have to be mine.”
He kissed the corner of your mouth, then lower along your jaw, down your throat- each press of his lips a quiet promise. You could feel the devotion in each one, like he was spelling out his love with his mouth, soothing away the hurt one kiss at a time. His hands moved under your underwear, warm and certain, fingers spreading you open with aching care, reverent like he was learning you all over again and loving every second of it.
“You’re tense,” he murmured, voice lower now, thumb brushing slow, perfect circles over your clit. “Let me take care of that. Let me make you feel good, baby. Just let go.”
“Bucky, someone could- ”
He dropped to his knees.
Right there- like it was the most natural thing in the world. His broad shoulders framed by the spread of your thighs, his blue eyes already locked onto your face with that look that always undid you. Soft hunger. Absolute focus. The kind of reverence that made you feel like a temple he’d worshiped at a thousand times before and still found holy.
He pushed his hair back from his face with one hand, jaw tense, a little smirk curling one corner of his mouth like he knew exactly what he was about to do to you. Like he was proud of it. Of you. Of how wrecked you were about to be.
“You didn’t get your chocolate,” he said, breath hot and heavy against your soaked folds. “So I’m giving you something sweeter.”
Then his mouth was on you.
Hot. Wet. Filthy.
His tongue dragged upward in one slow, claiming stroke that had your head knocking back against the cabinet. Then he did it again, circling your clit like he had all the time in the world, savoring every reaction. His lips wrapped around you and sucked with the perfect amount of pressure, after all, he’d memorized the way your body begged to be touched.
You gasped, legs trembling, one hand flying to the edge of the counter, gripping it for balance as your other dug into his hair. He groaned at the contact, the sound vibrating straight through your core. The smirk you’d seen moments ago returned against your skin, devilish and pleased with himself.
“God, look at you,” he murmured, pausing only long enough to drag his tongue flat over your slit. His lips brushed your clit again as he grinned. “I know you wanted chocolate, but fuck- you taste like candy.”
Then he dove back in.
He devoured you like it was his sole purpose in life. Like your pleasure was his mission and he had no intention of failing. His metal arm wrapped securely under your thigh, holding you wide and open for him, while his flesh hand slid up your stomach to your breast, fingers curling over it possessively as he groaned against your cunt.
Tears blurred your eyes again not from grief this time, but from how completely he meant it. From the way he worshipped you with his mouth, like this was his heaven. Like he needed this more than breath.
You couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from you, gasping cries, sharp breaths, needy little sounds you didn’t recognize as your own as his tongue worked you harder. Faster. Each stroke more precise, more demanding. Your hips tried to jerk away from the intensity, but he growled and tightened his grip, locking you down.
“Uh-uh,” he rasped against your swollen clit, slick with spit and need. “You take it. Take what you fucking need. Let go for me, baby.”
And you did.
You shattered for him; loud, messy, legs shaking as your orgasm tore through you, slick flooding over his mouth. He didn’t stop. He moaned like he was the one coming, mouth locked to you as he coaxed every last aftershock from your body.
Only when you sagged back, breathless and twitching, did he slow down. His lips softened their rhythm, moving with care now, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, the kind that made you shiver from tenderness rather than urgency. He murmured praise between each kiss, like he couldn’t help it, like worship was the only language he knew.
“So fuckin’ sweet,” he whispered, licking his lips with a slow, satisfied drag of his tongue. His face glistened with you, and he wore it like a badge of honor.
He kissed your thighs again, then trailed up to your hips, stroking your sides with reverence. He nuzzled your skin like it was his safe place, his temple, murmuring against the shell of your hip, “Could stay here all day, baby. Right here, tasting how good you are. You don’t even know what you do to me.”
His hands never left your body- constantly caressing, grounding, reminding. His metal fingers curled around your thigh possessively while the other swept gently up and down your waist. You felt utterly surrounded by him, like there wasn’t a single part of you he hadn’t claimed.
He looked up at you then, pupils blown wide, lips swollen, his expression dazed with devotion. Like he hadn’t just eaten you alive but knelt at your altar and meant it.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, voice ragged and thick with love. “No one gets to take from you. Not while I’m here. Not ever.”
And you believed him. Because when Bucky touched you like this- held you like this- he didn’t just give you pleasure. He gave you proof.
Proof that someone saw you. Fought for you. Loved you enough to hold the pieces no one else knew were broken.
Because when everything else went wrong…Bucky always made sure you still felt right.
When you finally blinked through the haze, he was standing again, unzipping his pants with that same look in his eyes.
Oh- Bucky wasn't through yet.
He leaned over you, kissed you slow, then deeper, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock pressed hot and heavy against your thigh, and when his hand gripped your jaw, his voice came low and reverent.
“Wanna fuck my sweet girl now. Gonna fill you up slow…make you feel everything, baby.”
Your breath caught as he guided himself between your thighs. Then he placed one firm hand on your ass and slid you forward across the counter, dragging you closer to the edge until your legs dangled more, your core perfectly aligned for him. The sensation of the heat of him pressing forward made your head spin.
And when he pushed inside, slow, stretching, claiming- you swore he moaned louder than you.
“That’s it,” he groaned, forehead to yours, hips rolling deep. “Just like that.”
He rocked into you with slow, sinuous thrusts, hips rolling in smooth, deliberate motion as if he had no interest in finishing quickly, just in working you open, keeping you full, keeping you right there on the edge. Each pass stroked that aching place deep inside- your thighs tightening, breath catching, every nerve singing like it had been tuned to his rhythm.
“Right there, yeah?” he rasped. “I feel it. You clench so good when I hit that spot.”
His hand smoothed up your spine, the other gripping your ass to keep you pinned just where he wanted you. He didn’t pound, he rolled, deep and deliberate. Deep and slow, hips pressing tight against yours with each drag of his cock, like he wanted to replace every ache and frustration you’d carried today with the stretch of him.
“You don’t need a sweet treat now do ya?” he murmured against your cheek, voice thick and low. “Not when I can get you high like this. Give you every endorphin your pretty little body’s been begging for.”
And when he pressed into that spot again- again- until you panted and quivered for him, you stopped caring who might walk in. Stopped caring about anything except the wet, slick sound of him inside you and the way he whispered, "Gonna wash all the bad day away, yeah? Gonna let me do that for ya, doll? Gonna let me take every ounce of tension and fuck it right outta you?"
The rhythm of him built gradually, rising like a wave pulling you under- his hips rolling, staying deep, making your breath stutter and your nails curl into the strong slope of his shoulders. Each drag of his cock pushed you higher, stretched you further, until all you could do was cling and shake and feel.
When he adjusted his angle, grinding down into that tender place inside that had you gasping every time, the one that made your legs twitch and your stomach tighten, dragging a helpless, high-pitched whine from the back of your throat- you broke. The orgasm crashed over you, hot and sudden, your body pulsing around him in tight, desperate waves.
Bucky swallowed your cries with his mouth on yours, kissing you through it, devouring every sound you made like it was his favorite dessert.
“Good girl,” he growled, voice shaking. “Just like that. Fuck- gonna give it to you, baby. Gonna fill you up nice and warm, yeah?”
Buck jerked, moaning into your mouth as his hips snapped once, twice, before he spilled into you, thick and deep and perfect. You both shook, breathless in the kitchen, bodies slick with sweat and love and everything unspoken.
His hand brushed your jaw as he whispered soft words against your lips. “So good for me. My perfect girl. Took all of it.”
Then he stepped back just enough to grab a paper towel, cleaning you up with gentle care.
You stayed on the counter, legs still trembling, smiling and a little fucked-out, watching as he fixed his pants with that stupidly smug grin like he’d just won something sacred and maybe he had.
“I’m sure I’ve got one of your snacks in my room,” he said, voice still husky but playful. “Let’s get you back there… we can shower and snuggle, and you can tell me everything- or we can just watch a movie. End the day right.”
He stepped in close and lifted you easily off the counter, one arm under your thighs, the other around your back like you weighed nothing. You curled instinctively into him, nuzzling into the warm crook of his neck, your breath still uneven, your heart still stuttering from everything he’d given you.
“Bucky Barnes,” you murmured, your lips brushing his skin as you smiled, “better than chocolate.”
He chuckled low, chest vibrating against yours. “Damn right I am.”
#AAspring#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky#bucky fic#bucky imagine#bucky smut#bucky x female reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#x female reader#smut#marvel smut#bucky barnes x fem!reader#buckybarnes#james bucky barnes#Bucky Barnes x reader
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I need just you and nobody else.

requested by @stellakiddsblog saying: Rhea x reader Reader is autistic and gets overstimulated at and has an episode during Rheas match backstage and the workers are franticly trying to calm her down and it makes it worse till Damien grabs Rhea
pairing: Rhea Ripley x autistic fem reader.
warnings: Rhea uses very soft tones with reader,for someone could be triggering so I put a warning :)
genre:angst + fluff
summary: while going to the bathroom during raw,a lot of interviewers started to bother you,and you get really upset and overstimulated,but Rhea is always here for you.
A/N: a big thank you to @bibibi-tchx for all the support cause I would've fucking fell asleep. (And thanks for the help and the support clovey clove muah xx)
⋆ ˚。⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭
This was the first Raw you went to,you always watched it on tv but this time you were really here. Your girlfriend Rhea insisted that you should have watched her match,and you gave in.
It was really crowded and very noisy, and Rhea noticed that,so she softly put her hands on your ears,while you hugged her tightly,feeling secure from all the dangers of the world.
The Raw episode was going to start in two hours,and you already felt excited for your girlfriend, because you knew she was going to win.
She took your hand in hers,and she brought you to thr locker room he shared with The Judgment Day.
While she was doing her makeup,with her signature black lipstick and the words "dirty dom" on her cheek,you couldn't help but think what would happen while Rhea wasn't with you,scared that something bad would happen.
Your girlfriend noticed that you spaced out,and she asked you: "Baby,what's in your cute little head,mhm?". She comes closer to you,her eyeliner long forgotten,and strokes softly and sweetly your now red cheek.
"It's jus' that I'm bit worried,what if somethin' happens?" You said with a worried voice, and Rhea's eyes soften.
"Baby it's okay,nothing will happen if you're in our locker room. You have Damian,Finn and Dom to protect you. You're safe sweetness. And if something happens to you,I'll make sure to kick their asses!" She said while still stroking your cheeks,and you let out a giggle after the last sentence. You were sure now: nothing is going to happen,you're safe with your and Rhea's friends.
The laughs of the both of you were interrupted by the noise of the locker room's door open. Damian,Finn and Dominik waved at you,and Rhea told them to keep an eye on you while she's out on the ring (and she might or might not have threatened them,saying that if something happened to you she'd kill them with her own hands,but nobody knows.)
She finished doing her makeup,and she started putting her gear on. Her hair were done by an hairstylist, slicked back with little braids on the side.
Before leaving to go to the ring,she kissed you sweetly, as if that was a good luck kiss that would help her succeed.
You were in the locker room watching Rhea fight Becky Lynch when you suddenly felt the need to go to the bathroom.
"Damian,is it okay if I go to the bathroom? I'll come back as soon as possible." You asked Damian,who was scrolling on his phone. "Sure Y/N,but don't get lost,okay?" You nodded as a response,and you went out of the locker room.
You saw a few interviewers coming to you,asking if you were Rhea Ripley's girlfriend and if you were with her only for money.
"Listen- I- I-" You tried to speak,but the words got caught up in your throat,trying desperately to escape but with no use. Your breath was starting to become unsteady and your hands were heavily shaking.
Soon enough a crowd started to form around you,making you panic even more.
Damian noticed that you were out of sight since 20 minutes,and he decided to look for you. He saw a lot of people in one single place,and he wondered what was happening.
He pushed aside all of the people that were blocking his vision,and saw your crying and shaking form.
"Go away! Leave her alone!" He shouted,and your hands quickly covered your ears. "Hey,hey,hey. You're okay now. Can you stand up?" His voice was unsure,but he was trying his best to comfort you.
You couldn't talk,and you just wanted Rhea to hold you and to reassure you.
"You don't wanna talk? It's totally okay. Should I call Rhea?" He asked,and you nodded. You were still crying and trembling from the fear and the anxiety,but you would do anything to have Rhea next to you.
Damian called Dominik to tell him that he had to get Rhea and bring her backstage because you needed her,and he quickly did what he was requested to.
Just as Dominik was going to get her,she hit a finisher on Becky Lynch and she won the match.
Dominik ran down the ramp towards Rhea and he told her why they needed her,and saying that she ran backstage was an understatement.
"Where is she?!" Rhea asked Dominik,and he pointed the direction where you and Damian were with his finger.
Your girlfriend quickly found you on the floor,with your knees in front of your chest,and your head buried in your arms.
"Oh,sweetie." She got on her knees next to you,and she pulled you in a comforting embrace,that you were waiting for a lot of time.
"Rhea I-I am so sorry f-for interrupting y-your match" You tried to say through your sobs and your sniffles and her heart broke at the sight. "Baby,it's okay,it's not your fault. They didn't have to overstimulate you like that and they could have minded their own business. And I won by the way,so you didn't interrupt anything." She smiled sweetly to you,while picking you up,and you clinged to her like a koala.
You went in her locker room,and,from her bag,she picked a little blanket she kept just in case. She laid you on the big couch that was in the corner of the room,and pulled the little blanket over you.
"Baby,rest for a bit. I know you're tired with all of that crying,and I'll stay right here close to you until you fall asleep. Okay,sweetheart?" You nodded,and closed your eyes and you were quickly knocked out in at least 5 minutes.
Rhea gave you a kiss on the cheek,and stood up to go out of the room,where The Judgment Day was.
Her eyes darkened,looking at the three men.
"So,what did I tell you before? That if something would have happened to her,I would have killed each one of you with my own hands,right?" She chucked while cracking her knuckles.
"Oh shit"
"We're fucked"
taglist: @stellakiddsblog @bibibi-tchx
#rhea ripley#rhea ripley x reader#rhea ripley fluff#rhea ripley imagine#rhea ripley oneshot#rhea ripley angst
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I may be a judgment day hater but boy are their backstage segments funny as hell, like the pan over to aj in thr corner was too funny
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Sarah Edwards had an extremely special experience with the Lord. Like Julian of Norwich, the Lord exploded her being with His love. It all began with a renewed sense of the assurance of her salvation, after a divine revelation of Roman 8:34.
The day was January 20, 1742.
The Spirit of God began extraordinarily to set in. Revival grew, and souls did as it were come by floods to Christ”
That is how Jonathan Edwards described the remarkable progress of the gospel in Northampton in 1734, one local manifestation of what would come to be known as the First Great Awakening.
As her husband was to describe it, God had filled Sarah with “joy unspeakable and full of glory” (I Peter 1:8).
To me it seems that they each were being prepared deep in their souls for the series of bereavements they would endure from the late 1740s on. The stretching of Sarah Edwards is a beautiful testimony that seems other-worldly in detail, but I wanted to share the parts that to me seemed to reveal God’s way with bringing us to the place of trust and rest in His perfect will. Truly removing all fear and anxiety by perfecting His love in us. Just as He said.
Her experience reminds me so much of the Lord’s “showings” to Julian of Norwich.
God “stretched” her soul and then filled it with His own glorious fullness.
Although the first part of Sarah’s life appeared outwardly peaceful, her inner life was sometimes troubled.
Later in life, however, she endured a series of crises, through which she remained serene. The most significant turning point came in 1742, when she was given a fresh appreciation of “the breadth and length and height and depth” of Christ’s love (Ephesians 3:18).
From a young age, Sarah enjoyed an awareness of the beauty and glory of God. Famously, when she was just 13, Jonathan (aged 20) wrote a delightful eulogy to her piety and lovely character.
(Christian artist Sherri Youngward put the poem he had written about his wife to song - I will include it in the post. I have posted it SO many times!)
By 16, Sarah was powerfully aware of her own sin, and trusted God for mercy.
She valued “nearness to Christ as the creature’s greatest happiness,” and she could say, “My soul thirsted for him, so that death meant nothing to me, that I might be with him; for he was altogether lovely.”
Seventeen-year-old Sarah married Jonathan in 1727 and moved to Northampton. Jonathan was assisting his grandfather until he died two years later, and Jonathan succeeded him as sole minister.
A baby girl was born to Sarah and Jonathan in 1728, the first of eleven children. Visitors to their home testified to the warmth and love of their family life. Meanwhile, Sarah continued to know God’s smile. By 1735, she had gone through labor four times (then immensely risky), but she wrote,
During a time of great affliction, I could often say: “Whom have I in heaven but thee? And there is none on earth that I desire beside thee. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God.”
Up to the age of 31, Sarah’s life was reasonably smooth. She did experience mood swings and depression, no doubt associated in part with the rigors of childbearing. She depended a lot on the approval of her husband. She was sometimes overprotective of his reputation, and feared the bad opinion of the townspeople.
At times she was beset with anxiety. Even still, she continued to know and rejoice in God. With the psalmist, she desired ever closer fellowship with God (Psalm 27:4), and longed for greater holiness (Psalm 139:23–24).
Jonathan had begun his ministry at a time when most people in Northampton attended church, but many were nominal Christians. Most of the youth were unconverted, with low moral standards.
The sudden death of one young man in 1734, however, shook the community. At the funeral, Jonathan preached on Psalm 90:5–6, challenging all to prepare for death and judgment. Small prayer groups sprang up. By early 1735, many were convicted of sin, repented, and found assurance of forgiveness.
Throughout the next year, revival continued in Northampton and in many other communities in New England, as well as in Britain and beyond.
At such times of revival, God draws near in a special and widespread way: unbelievers are convicted and converted, and believers are given a deeper awareness of spiritual reality.
Sarah was so overwhelmed with assurance of the love of God that some wondered whether she would survive until her husband’s return.
In those days, Sarah had felt crushed by awareness of her own indwelling sin, but then overjoyed by the glory of salvation.
Her delight in God was so overpowering it was as if she were already experiencing the joy of heaven.
I never before, for so long a time together, enjoyed so much of the light, and rest and sweetness of heaven in my soul. . . . I continued in a constant, clear, and lively sense of the heavenly sweetness of Christ’s love, of his nearness to me, and of my dearness to him.
Along with that personal sense of God’s love, she felt intense love and compassion for others.
She no longer feared the ill-will of the town or the disapproval of her husband.
Nor did she care whether it was her husband or another preacher who was more effective in ministry.
The priority was that God should be glorified. If that involved suffering, so be it. His glory was all in all.
She said that she seemed to be lifted above earth and hell, out of the reach of everything here below, so that she could look on all the rage and enmity of men or devils with a kind of holy indifference and an undisturbed tranquillity. At the same time feeling compassion and love for all mankind, and a deep abasement of soul, under a sense of her own unworthiness.
She also felt more perfectly weaned from all things here below than ever before. The whole world, with all its enjoyments and all its troubles seemed to be nothing: — My God was my all, my only portion.
She envisaged the worst scenarios that could possibly befall - but God loved her, so Sarah could trust him. Whatever happened, her response would be “Your will be done” and “Amen, Lord Jesus!”
The reality of Sarah’s “resignation of all to God” would soon be tested as she faced a series of crises: war, poverty, rejection, and multiple bereavements.
War resulted in economic hardship. Parishioners struggled to feed themselves, and the Edwardses’ salary often went unpaid. Sarah had to submit detailed household budgets to the church and engage in every conceivable economy.
A controversial case of church discipline also caused friction. Factions in the church, including some of Jonathan’s own relatives, turned against their pastor. The church eventually dismissed Jonathan in June 1750, leaving the family without financial support.
Yet Jonathan and Sarah remained free of bitterness, shut up to the opinion of all but God.
Later on, a relative admitted that he had spread numerous untrue slanders about them, but they never demanded public vindication.
She described entirely swallowed up in God, as her only portion, and His honor and glory was the object of her supreme desire and delight.
At the same time, feeling an even greater love to the children of God than ever before. She seemed to love them as her own soul; and when she saw them, her heart went out towards them with an inexpressible endearedness and sweetness.
She was able to view them by faith in their risen and glorified state, with spiritual bodies re-fashioned after the image of Christ’s glorious body and arrayed in the beauty of heaven.
Then came sorrow.
Jerusha Edwards, Jonathan’s and Sarah’s second-oldest daughter, died in 1748 at the age of 17. She had offered to care for a visiting missionary, David Brainerd, as he died of tuberculosis, but she too succumbed to the disease. Exceptionally godly, Jerusha had been regarded as the “flower of the family.” But her parents submitted to God’s sovereignty, knowing their daughter was with her Lord.
In 1752, 20-year-old Esther married Aaron Burr, the 36-year-old president of New Jersey College at Princeton.
They soon had two children — the youngest, Aaron Jr., would famously kill Alexander Hamilton in a duel in 1804, while U.S. Vice President — but Aaron Sr. died at just 41 years old in 1757. Jonathan then was invited to
take his place as President of the New Jersey College. He moved down to Princeton ahead of the family.
Soon after taking up the post, in March 1758, Jonathan died after a smallpox vaccination.
While dying, he sent word to Sarah, thanking God for the “uncommon union” that they had enjoyed, and looking to the eternity that lay before them in Christ.
When Sarah received the terrible news of his untimely death, she responded with towering faith:
The Lord has done it: He has made me adore his goodness that we had him [Jonathan] so long. But my God lives and he has my heart.
She soon received further terrible news. Esther had died a few days after her father.
Sarah immediately left her own children and traveled down to Princeton to collect her two orphaned grandchildren.
On the way home, she herself fell critically ill and died on October 2, 1758, at age 48.
Throughout this tragic series of events, and in her final hours, Sarah still could testify,
Neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38–39)
From an early age, Sarah Edwards had delighted in God. That delight was intensified during revival, it endured through suffering, and she died knowing that death would be her entry to unbroken delight in him.
Her delight in God gave her a passion that he be glorified. She knew that God is worthy of the praise of every person on earth (Psalm 148), and she could not bear to think of him not receiving his due:
I felt such a disposition to rejoice in God, that I wished to have the world join me in praising him. I was ready to wonder how the world of mankind could lie and sleep when there was such a God to praise!
Sarah longed for revival, not only in her own life, in her own family, or in Northampton, but throughout the earth.
The Edwardses’ ambitions and prayers went far beyond personal, family, or parochial concerns — they were certain of the ultimate and cosmic triumph of Christ. And so, Jonathan urged all believers to unite in prayer for global evangelization and revival.
As we love God more, and enjoy his love, we too long for him to be honored by all, and for his glory to fill the earth.
We too are to pray and work for revival — in our own experience, our family, our church, our nation, and the world:
Blessed be his glorious name forever; may the whole earth be filled with his glory! Amen and Amen! (Psalm 72:19)
(These are mostly actual excerpts along with my own thoughts compiled from several articles written about Sarah Edwards (1710–1758)
Wife of Jonathan Edwards (1703–1758) by Sam Storms, Sarah James and R.Scott Clark. I wanted to share what stood out most to me about her life)
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I took a massive psilocybin dose the other day and saw Son of the White Mare at my theater that was playing for two nights only, the last in our 3 weekend run of “visionary animation”, now we’re back to the neverending slop treadmill approach to programming. i want psilocybin to cure me of my contemptuous and judgmental side, but it just turned it into fear. people were laughing through thr whole movie. people were laughing all the way through Belladonna of Sadness the week before if you can believe it. If there’s sexual imagery in a movie, even if it’s violent or sacred in nature, people just bust up laughing. <- indescribably mortally terrifying to me at the time
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Pitch for a Hades style game
where you play as a demon/angel who's been tasked with quelling what is effectively a prison riot in hell. You fight through some of thr worst humanity had to offer. You find out that the final boss is trying to start judgment day early.
You could get buffs from the archangels, hell's princes, very rare encounter with Jesus. Seriously, Christian mythology would be a goldmine for this format. You even have artifacts and relics from christian history to add.
Not to mention the enormous cast of potential side characters.
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Here is the thing we need to realize online perceptions are not real world ones. Our problem is we are chronically online and things like variety THR and deadline seem very important We also put too much value on them for example the reviews have been mostly positive but the one that generates so much discussion and attention is the negative ones. In the real world hardly any one knows about them. Audiences watch what they like and at the end of the day studios are interested in the question is it profitable or not. They don’t look at what did Clive from variety think. So Tom will be just fine. There can be 100 lists they leave him out of but again the numbers speak for themselves. I do think there is some bias towards certain actors not because of agendas but also because of relationships. Like anything else you have to be with the in crowd and you are pre - desposed to get favourable headlines. There are some article's that are pure PR pieces designed to prop up certain actors that’s usually the work of publicists. If Tom doesn’t play that game then he knows the consequences of that are and likely has accepted it. We have to accept that majority of his projects will be slammed by those publications it’s on us to decide if we like them or not.
Clive from Variety😭🤣
Yes reviews obviously don’t mean much to Tom Holland or his career would have probably proceeded differently. He does what he wants. We should all be so lucky to have that opportunity.
I have tended to agree with the critical consensus on his projects so I’m missing the bias that everyone keeps talking about. But sure. Everything is political, and there is probably more to reviews than then simply the expression of pure, unadulterated judgment.
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Holidays 8.29
Holidays
According To Hoyle Day
Arbor Day (Argentina)
Bill & Frank Day
Black Book Clubs Day
Celestial Marriage Day (a.k.a. Polygamy; Mormons)
Clean Your Keyboard Day
Day of Loose Talk
Day of Remembrance of the Defenders of Ukraine (Ukraine)
Fennel Day (French Republic)
Flag Day (Spain)
Galatea Asteroid Day
Gamer’s Day (Mexico, Spain)
Happy Housewives Holiday
Head Day (Iceland)
Hurricane Katrina Anniversary Day (New Orleans)
Individual Rights Day
International Day Against Nuclear Tests (UN)
Judgment Day (in the film “The Terminator”)
Marine Corps Reserve Day
Michael Jackson Day
Miners’ Day (Ukraine)
Municipal Police Day (Poland)
National Caretaker Appreciation Day (Canada)
National College Colors Day
National Day of Lesbian Visibility (Brazil)
National Monterey County Fair Day
National Police’s Day (Poland)
National Sarcoidosis Awareness Day
National Sport Sampling Day
National Sports Day (India)
Nut Spas (Russia)
Potteries Bottle Oven Day (UK)
Targeted Individual Day
Telugu Language Day (India)
World Day of Video Games
Zipper Clasp Locker Day
Food & Drink Celebrations
Chop Suey Day
Gnocchi Day (Argentina)
International Peppercorn Day
Lemon Juice Day
More Herbs, Less Salt Day
National Swiss Winegrowers Day
Independence & Related Days
Hjalvik (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]
Mivland (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]
Popular Consultation Anniversary Day (East Timor)
Slovak National Uprising Anniversary Day (Slovakia)
Veyshnoria (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]
New Year’s Days
First Day of Thoth (Ancient Egypt)
5th & Last Thursday in August
Cabernet Day [Thursday before Labor Day]
Daffodil Day (Australia) [Last Thursday]
National Banana Pudding Day [Last Thursday]
National Cabernet Sauvignon Day [Last Thursday]
Thirsty Thursday [Every Thursday]
Thoughtful Thursday [Thursday of Be Kind to Humankind Week]
Three-Bean Thursday [Last Thursday of Each Month]
Three for Thursday [Every Thursday]
Thrift Store Thursday [Every Thursday]
Throw Away Thursday [Last Thursday of Each Month]
Throwback Thursday [Every Thursday]
Weekly Holidays beginning August 29 (4th Full Week of August)
National Sweet Corn Week (thru 9.2)
Festivals Beginning August 29, 2024
The Blue Hill Fair (Blue Hill, Maine) [thru 9.2]
Chicago Jazz Festival (Chicago, Illinois) [thru 9.1]
Dragon Con (Atlanta, Georgia) [thru 9.2]
Epcot International Food & Wine Festival (Lake Buena Vista, Florida) [thru 11.23]
Gatineau Hot Air Balloon Festival (Gatineau, Canada) [thru 9.2]
Hopkinton State Fair (Contoocook, New Hampshire) [thru 9.2]
Kamiah BBQ Days (Kamiah, Idaho) [thru 8.31]
Key West BrewFest (Key West, Florida) [thru 9.2]
Lindisfarne Festival (Berwick-upon-Tweed, United Kingdom) [thru 9.1]
Louisiana Shrimp & Petroleum Festival (Morgan City, Louisiana) [thru 9.2]
National Championship Chuckwagon Races (Clinton, Arkansas) [thru 9.1]
Peach Days (Hurricane City, Utah) [thru 8.31]
Rocklahoma (Pryor, Oklahoma) [thru 9.1]
Taste to Remember (Dublin, Ohio)
Volksfeest and Bloemencorso Winterswijk (Winterswijk, Netherlands) [thr 9.1]
Feast Days
Adelphus of Metz (Christian; Saint)
Beheading of St. John the Baptist (Christian)
Blobfish Day (Pastafarian)
Day of Loose Talk (Shamanism)
Dr. Lily Rosenbloom (Muppetism)
Eadwold of Cerne (Christian; Saint)
Euphrasia Eluvathingal (Syro-Malabar Catholic Church)
Feast of Agios Ioannis (Halki, Hittitie God of Grain)
First Day of Thoth (Egyptian New Year)
Gahan Wilson Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)
Gelede (Mask-Wearing Ritual; Yoruba People of Nigeria)
The Great Visitation to Guaire (Celtic Book of Days)
Hajime Isayama (Artology)
Hathor’s Day (Pagan)
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres (Artology)
John Bunyan (Episcopal Church)
John Leech (Artology)
Maurice Maeterlinck (Writerism)
Medericus (a.k.a. St. Merry; Christian; Saint)
Midnight Muffins Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)
Nativity of Hathor (Egyptian Goddess of Joy & Drunkenness)
Oliver Wendell Holmes (Writerism)
Papin (Positivist; Saint)
Pardon of the Sea (Festival to Ahes, Pagan Goddess of the Sea; Brittany; Everyday Wicca)
René Depestre (Writerism)
Sabina (Christian; Martyr)
Sebbi (a.k.a. Sebba), King of Essex (Christian; Saint)
Sorel Etrog (Artology)
Thiruvonam (Rice Harvest Festival, Day 2; Kerala, India)
Thom Gunn (Writerism)
Vitalis, Sator and Repositus (Christian; Saints)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Prime Number Day: 241 [53 of 72]
Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]
Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [38 of 60]
Urda (The Oldest Fate)
Premieres
At Your Service Madame (WB MM Cartoon; 1936)
Balls of Fury (Film; 2007)
Butcher's Crossing, by John Williams (Novel; 1960)
Cat-Tails for Two (WB MM Cartoon; 1953)
A Date for Dinner (Mighty Mouse Cartoon; 1947)
Definitely Maybe, by Oasis (Album; 1994)
The Early Bird Dood It! (Tex Avery MGM Cartoon; 1942)
4’33”, by John Cage (Modernist Composition; 1952)
The Fugitive final episode (Most Watched TV Show; 1967)
The Full Monty (Film; 1987)
Here Today, Gone Tamale (WB LT Cartoon; 1959)
Independent Women, by Destiny’s Child (Song; 2000)
It’s A Pity To Say Goodnight, recorded by Ella Fitzgerald (Song; 1946)
Kid Galahad (Elvis Presley Film; 1962)
Mary Poppins (Film; 1964)
Movie Mad (Ub Iwerks MGM Cartoon; 1931)
Move It, by Cliff Richard and the Drifters (Song; 1958)
One of Our States Is Missing (Super Chicken Cartoon; 1967) [#2]
Popalong Popeye (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1952)
Pretty Woman, by Roy Orbison (Song; 1964)
Ridiculousness (TV Series; 2011)
Runaway, by Janet Jackson (Song; 1995)
Saint Errant, by Leslie Charteris (Short Stories 1948) [Saint #29]
Shanghai Surprise (Film; 1986)
Signing Off, by UB40 (Album; 1980)
The Skeleton Dance (Ub Iwerks Silly Symphony Disney Cartoon; 1929) [1st SS]
Twinkletoes in Hat Stuff (Animated Antics Cartoon; 1941)
Today’s Name Days
Beatrix, Johannes, Sabine (Austria)
Anastas, Anastasi, Anastasiya (Bulgaria)
Bazila, Ivan, Sabina, Sebo, Verona (Croatia)
Evelína (Czech Republic)
Johannes (Denmark)
Õnne, Õnnela (Estonia)
Iina, Iines, Inari, Inna (Finland)
Médéric, Sabine (France)
Beatrice, Johannes, Sabine (Germany)
Arkadios (Greece)
Beatrix, Erna (Hungary)
Battista, Giovanni, Sabina (Italy)
Aiga, Aigars, Armīns, Vismants (Latvia)
Barvydas, Beatričė, Gaudvydė, Sabina (Lithuania)
Jo, Johan, Jone (Norway)
Flora, Jan, Racibor, Sabina (Poland)
Nikola (Slovakia)
Juan (Spain)
Hampus, Hans (Sweden)
Candace, Candice, Poppy, Sabina, Sabra, Sabrina (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 242 of 2024; 124 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 4 of Week 35 of 2024
Celtic Tree Calendar: Coll (Hazel) [Day 27 of 28]
Chinese: Month 7 (Ren-Shen), Day 26 (Yi-Chou)
Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]
Hebrew: 25 Av 5784
Islamic: 23 Safar 1446
J Cal: 2 Gold; Oneday [1 of 30]
Julian: 16 August 2024
Moon: 18%: Waning Crescent
Positivist: 18 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Black]
Runic Half Month: Rad (Motion) [Day 7 of 15]
Season: Summer (Day 71 of 94)
Week: 4th Full Week of August
Zodiac: Virgo (Day 8 of 32)
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tide
Chapter 149: “Gods Don’t Knock”
Zafina lay draped across him like a silken tide—bare, warm, glowing. Her smile was soft, almost shy, a rare contrast to her usual stormy grace. She traced lazy circles into his chest, her body pliant and content, the curve of her thigh thrown possessively over his.
Jey didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe too deep.
He was savoring it.
The afterglow wasn’t just from their physical reconnection—it was from her soul finally quieting. Her heartbeat no longer clawed through their bond. Her breath no longer trembled with nightmares. She was here. His.
“Happy, my moonlight?” he murmured, kissing the crown of her head.
“Mmm…” Her response was muffled by his chest. “Very.”
They lay like that a while, curled together beneath the dim, low-warm lights of the SHIELD stateroom, until the low growl of her stomach betrayed her.
“Feed me,” she muttered, pouting dramatically. “You made me work up an appetite, island boy.”
He laughed and finally shifted. “Alright, alright. But we’re in human territory, love. Which means clothes.”
She groaned.
The hot shower steam curled around them as she washed her hair and he scrubbed the salt from her skin with gentle reverence. He tied her sundress with an amused smirk as she muttered curses about mortal fabrics being too “itchy,” while he simply slipped into black board shorts and let his chest stay bare. A small rebellion.
She grinned approvingly at the way his tattoos glistened, then kissed his shoulder and said nothing more.
Hand in hand, the two left the stateroom, walking the corridors of the SHIELD ship like they owned the damn place.
Because, in their minds, they did.
Doors slid open.
And without pause or permission, Zafina stepped straight into the war room where the Avengers, SHIELD agents, and a very exasperated Fury were mid-debrief.
Tense silence hit like a slap.
The giant table was cluttered with maps, projected energy signatures, Stark tech flickering data, and a particularly chaotic report file Peter had handwritten at some point (with way too many doodles). No one expected her to strut in wearing a sundress, barefoot, and positively glowing with post-divine afterglow.
Behind her, Jey stood relaxed as ever, arms crossed, barefoot, tattoos on full display and not a damn given in sight.
Zafina blinked slowly, surveying the room full of speechless, blinking mortals.
Then she arched a brow at Fury, planted one hand on her hip, and asked—
“So… what’s for breakfast, Patch?”
Fury, to his credit, only sighed once, rubbed his temple, and muttered, “Somebody get the sea goddess a plate before she tries to seduce the cook.”
Tony snorted. “Too late. We already lost him. He’s been singing sea shanties in the kitchen since last night.”
Zafina grinned, teeth flashing. “He was delightful.”
Jey just yawned and moved to lean beside the holographic display. “Y’all got coffee? I need to keep her distracted or she’ll eat half the armory.”
Peter squeaked and offered his thermos with shaking hands.
Zafina winked and blew the boy a kiss. “Good little web.”
Fury sat heavily in his chair. “I liked it better when the biggest threat was Loki.”
Jey shrugged. “Still is.”
Zafina’s smile faded just a little, her eyes narrowing. “And if we’re not careful, he’ll try again.”
Silence fell again—but this time it wasn’t tense.
It was focused.
Prepared.
Chapter 150: “That’s For Kissing My Peter!”
The war room had just started to settle into its version of peace—bickering Avengers, snide remarks from Stark, tired exasperation from Fury, and Zafina cross-legged in a chair picking olives from someone’s breakfast plate while humming a rhythm that made the walls feel like they were breathing. Jey lounged beside her, his fingers drumming on the table with calm control.
Then the door slammed open.
Boots stormed down the corridor like judgment day itself.
And in she came—curls wild, face bare, lips pressed tight in a righteous scowl. Mary Jane Watson didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pause. She stormed straight past three stunned agents, pushed by Banner’s startled gasp, and marched right up to the lounging goddess in the sundress.
Zafina blinked once.
MJ’s palm met her cheek with a crack like lightning.
The room froze.
Jey stiffened.
Fury cursed under his breath.
Peter made a noise—a gasp, a whimper, maybe both—and his soul visibly left his body.
MJ wasn’t done.
She lunged.
“You kissed my Peter, sea witch!”
Zafina hadn’t moved. Her face turned from the slap, her cheek red from the sting, a dot of blood blooming on her lower lip where fang met skin. Her hands stayed calmly in her lap.
But her tongue swiped over the blood slowly.
Her eyes blinked—blue to black to blue again.
One canine peeked.
Her smile curled, low and wicked.
“Oh,” she purred, “you have bite. I like that in a mortal.”
“NOPE!” Peter practically yelled as he lunged forward, grabbing MJ’s waist and pulling her off Zafina like his life depended on it—because, frankly, it probably did.
“M-MJ babe babe babe please—you don’t understand—she’s a god, like a real one, not a hot one from TikTok but like actual sea—”
“Let me go!” MJ shrieked, twisting in his arms. “She put her lips on you! In front of everyone! That’s cheating!”
“It was for air!” Peter wailed.
Zafina was still smiling. Still watching. Still… twitching.
Jey stood now, slowly, his body easing upright like tectonic pressure. One hand drifted to Zafina’s shoulder, grounding her, the other to Peter’s back.
“Enough.” His voice rolled like thunder across the war room.
Zafina’s grin faded slightly, her expression sliding into something more curious than hungry.
MJ was still fighting, fists flailing.
Jey pulled Peter and MJ close, his arms around them like a net trying to hold down a ship in a storm, his voice low and ancient:
“Small. Be small. You’ll wake the tide.”
Around them, the other Avengers scrambled.
Banner was reaching for a tranquilizer. Natasha had her gun drawn. Stark’s armor was crawling over his hand like a reflex. T’Challa shifted on instinct, claws clicking.
Fury stood. “Somebody get MJ out of here—now!”
But Zafina?
She licked the last drop of blood off her lip and crossed her legs again slowly, regal and amused.
“Your mortal is spirited, little spider,” she said softly. “I respect it. But the next time she raises her hand to me…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
She didn’t need to.
Jey’s grip tightened.
Peter didn’t even dare to breathe.
The tide was rising.
And the gods had barely opened their eyes.
Chapter 151: Breakfast & Bite
Zafina sighed, long and theatrical, like a queen annoyed by peasants playing war. Her fingers began tapping rhythmically on her bare bronze arm, each beat echoing too sharply in the room’s unnaturally still silence.
“You can all relax,” she said flatly, eyes now lazily blinking their eerie ocean hue. “I can take a child’s hit.”
She turned slightly, her gaze dropping to MJ, who was still pinned in Peter’s grasp, flushed red with fury. “It would be her last,” Zafina added coolly, “but I’m feeling… somewhat forgiving today.”
Peter groaned, quietly melting into his hoodie.
“Oh, and don’t worry, little web,” Zafina continued with a glint of amusement. “I’ll still be adopting you.”
Peter choked.
Jey arched a brow in fond exasperation.
“And,” Zafina said with exaggerated patience, “I do want my breakfast before my hunger gets… triggered.”
Her gaze flicked to Jey. She tilted her head with royal expectancy. “My love. Unleash the children—I’ve seen kittens in alleyways swat worse than that.”
The agents twitched. Jey rolled his eyes and finally let go of the human tangle in his arms. Peter practically collapsed back, catching MJ by the waist with an arm as she grumbled but stayed put, wisely this time.
Zafina stretched her limbs like a jungle cat, nonchalant.
Then her eyes flicked over to T’Challa, who’d been standing with arms crossed, cool and silent through the whole ordeal.
A grin spread over her face—sharp, knowing, taunting.
“I do hope your human has more bite,” she purred, voice low and velvet-dipped.
T’Challa blinked once.
“Wakandan women do not slap. We strike,” he replied calmly.
Zafina smirked. “Mmm. Good. I like my rivals with edge.”
Behind her, Jey leaned in and murmured with a low rumble of amusement, “You’re enjoying this too much, Zee.”
Her hand slipped back, curling around his thigh. “I earned this chaos, Lohi. Now where is my damn breakfast?”
“Extra pickles,” Jey muttered, already signaling an agent.
Fury didn’t even look up from rubbing his temple. “We’re gonna need a bigger therapy budget.”
And Peter?
Still holding MJ gently with both arms and whispering frantically, “Babe, I swear it was magic CPR. Magical CPR!Please don’t slap gods anymore. My insurance doesn’t cover divine retaliation.”
MJ crossed her arms and huffed. “Then maybe don’t let them CPR you with tongue next time.”
Zafina’s laugh rolled across the room like thunder wrapped in sugar.
Chapter 152: Pickles, Prejudice, and Petty Looks
The SHIELD war room had seen its share of anomalies. Gods. Time travelers. Tony Stark’s late-night takeout orders. But never a half-dressed Pacific deity draped lazily in a chair like it was her throne, and certainly not a Caribbean siren queen complaining about side-eyes while awaiting a burger.
Zafina crunched down on a spear of pickle, her expression equal parts unimpressed and feline.
Then, she looked up—really looked—at the room full of heroes, agents, dignitaries, and baffled interns all still very much trying to wrap their heads around the events of the past twenty-four hours. And all, notably, still staring.
She rolled her eyes with dramatic flare.
“Do you always stare at guests like this,” she drawled, “or is it just the siren of the room?”
She licked a smudge of sauce from her thumb, purposefully slow.
“Honestly, I’m starting to feel like this is prejudice.”
Bruce opened his mouth—then closed it. Natasha raised a brow and shifted her weight. Sam blinked awkwardly and shoved a whole bite of protein bar into his mouth just to avoid commenting.
Jey, beside her, didn’t even look up from refilling her drink. “They’re just trying to figure out if you’re going to kiss someone else and start another war.”
“Please,” she scoffed. “I gave that child a peck, not an orgasm. If a little lip to lip shuts down military protocol, then this country’s defenses are fragile indeed.”
Peter buried his face in MJ’s shoulder.
“You’re not helping,” he muttered.
“I wasn’t trying to,” Zafina quipped.
Fury finally broke his silence, still pinching the bridge of his nose. “You are aware you kissed Captain America, a minor, and the King of Wakanda in under five minutes, right?”
Zafina tilted her head like she was listening to a very dull song. “You are aware I’m a five-hundred-year-old immortal being whose bloodline dates back to the original flood stories? Consent is implied when saving your little mortal lungs.”
She took another bite of her burger and looked at him thoughtfully. “You should try relaxing your jaw, Patch. That vein near your temple’s about to rupture.”
Jey bit back a laugh behind a cough.
Tony leaned over toward Strange and whispered, “How do we file this under ‘normal day’?”
Strange muttered, “This is the normal now.”
Zafina stood and stretched, sundress flowing around her like water. “Now, if we’re done accusing me of siren-based terrorism and glowering like church elders at a carnival dancer, I’d love to know who’s ready to actually talk strategy.”
She turned, her blue eyes dancing with mischief—and warning. “Because if I’m going to keep saving this planet, I’d prefer it not treat me like I’m the villain of the week.”
Jey joined her, resting an arm over her shoulders casually.
“Can we get pancakes next?” he asked.
Zafina grinned, her fang barely peeking. “If they got guava syrup, yes.”
Chapter 153: Not a White God
Zafina was halfway through her breakfast—savoring the last tangy bite of pickle on her burger—when she heard it.
MJ’s voice, low but not low enough, floated across the war room.
“Y’all look human to me. It’s not giving god and goddess. Thor has nice flowing locks and a cape.”
The entire room paused. Forks stopped midair. Even Tony Stark blinked like someone had unplugged his sarcasm.
And then—it happened.
Zafina froze.
In the blink of an eye, her form shifted. Gone was the soft sundress and disarming smile. In their place stood her base self: unrelenting, ancient, divine.
Her rich skin shimmered with a subtle luminescence, deep as the ocean at night. Pearls and delicate shells clung to the curves of her body like armor, her bare feet silent on the metal floor. Her long, thick locs spilled down her back and beyond her waist, adorned with cowrie shells, coral chips, and golden cuffs—living testimony to her bloodline.
Her eyes went pitch black, vast and unreadable.
Her canines elongated—sharp. Beautiful. Deadly.
When she spoke, her Caribbean accent rolled out thick, regal, and layered with wrath as ancient as the tide.
“Is dis what ya want from me?” she said, voice vibrating with power. “You wan’ see da god, da monster? I not a white god, chile.”
MJ instinctively stepped back as power pressed into the room like a rising tide.
Zafina lifted her chin, nodding once toward her mate.
Jey stepped forward from where he’d been leaning, his presence shifting with hers. His caramel skin seemed to glow now, every tribal tattoo across his chest and arms pulsing gold. His eyes were molten—pure Polynesian sun, glowing with mana.
He came to her side, calm but colossal.
“We no look like da colonizers,” Zafina continued, voice still sharp, still cutting. “My Ke’alohilani, da finest of Polynesia. Me? I from da Caribbean, from da waters before ya maps had names. You want compare us to god of Pantene ova dere?”
She pointed her fork directly at Thor, who blinked from his seat with a mouthful of eggs and a bewildered shrug.
Peter was red-faced, trying to whisper to MJ again, arms halfway stretched between apologizing and shielding.
Zafina never broke eye contact with the room.
“We don’t come from frost giants an’ Norse tales. We from blood. Pressure. Salt. Spirit. We gods from da people who survived. Who remember. Not statues in books or characters with nice hair.”
Her voice softened just a hair, like the tide pulling back, but it was no less deadly.
“Don’t confuse aesthetics… with legacy.”
She placed the fork back down beside her half-eaten meal and slid gracefully back into her chair, shell-laced hair cascading behind her like waves.
Jey remained standing at her side, arms crossed, golden tattoos still pulsing faintly.
The room didn’t breathe.
Then Zafina licked her lips, tossed a fry in her mouth, and murmured, “Now… anyone still feelin’ bold enough to judge a god by a cape?”
Silence.
Even Thor stayed seated.
Chapter 154: The Bait
Zafina stood before the towering screens of the S.H.I.E.L.D. war room, the flickering holograms casting a faint blue glow across her skin. Her arms were folded tight beneath her chest, and her eyes—dark ocean blue rimmed with shadows of black—burned with something dangerous. Not fear. Not pain. But a smoldering storm of agitation and something more ancient.
Resolve.
Her voice came low and heavy, weighted with her island cadence. “You want da green man?”
Everyone turned.
She didn’t blink.
“I go out dere. I change again. Become what he marked. He’ll smell it on da wind. Feel it in his marrow. My divinity, da storm, da deep—he’ll want it. He’ll come. Want to claim what he think he can bend. Use as a key.”
Jey tensed where he stood behind her, jaw flexing.
Zafina’s eyes slid toward the screen where flickers of green energy still ghosted the edges of satellite readings.
“You want him?” she asked again, more sharply this time. “Fine. I go out dere. I bait da trickster. Let him crawl from da pit he hide in. And when he do…”
Her gaze flicked to Fury, Banner, Strange, and finally to Thor.
“You collect him. As you’ve done before. Problem solved.”
The war room was silent, the echo of her offer heavier than steel.
“Zafina—” Steve started.
“No,” Jey snapped. Calm voice, but final. “You not a sacrifice.”
Zafina’s face barely shifted. “I not. I a weapon. A goddess. One wit’ teeth.”
Peter sat up straighter from beside MJ, wide-eyed and whispering, “Wait, wait, wait—you’re gonna summon Loki?”
“She not summonin’,” Jey corrected. “She drawin’. Like a flame to a moth. Or blood to a leech.”
Zafina stepped forward, tapping a glowing point on the digital map where coastal ley lines collided.
“Here. Right here. Open ocean. I shift. He’ll come.”
Her fingers splayed across the glowing light.
“Then you better be ready.”
Fury finally exhaled and muttered, “Shit.”
Chapter 155: Ke’alohilani’s Light
She didn’t mean to let it show, but it slipped through anyway—just a flicker in the curve of her brows, the way her lips parted and then pressed together, her hand cupping his jaw gently. Like she was memorizing him.
The war room had emptied. It was only them now. Jey, silent as stone, eyes burning gold and troubled.
Zafina exhaled slow, her touch feather-light. “I only a weapon to them,” she murmured, her voice soft but weighted. “Always da monster wit’ teeth.”
Jey’s jaw clenched. “You not a monster,” he rasped.
Her smile was barely there. “I be okay, aloha. You’ll find me again.”
Then she said something she never had before.
“I love you, Ke’alohilani. You are my greatest light.”
He froze.
Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth, reverent. She leaned in, pressing her forehead to his. Just for a heartbeat. And then she let go.
She turned before he could stop her, before his voice could break and pull her back into his arms. The click of her sandals faded into the echo of steel and silence.
The transport ride was quiet. Tense. She sat still, back straight, eyes forward, like a queen headed to war. Through the narrow windows, the stretch of deep sea called out like an ancient drum.
When the hatch hissed open at the edge of the ocean drop point, she hesitated.
Just for a breath.
She looked up, her gaze cutting through cloud and hull, to where she knew Jey stood in the hidden ship above. Watching. Holding on by the last threads of control.
They all saw the frown on her lips. Not fear. But sorrow.
Then, she inhaled—deep, primal—and threw her head back.
The shriek she let out was otherworldly. A siren’s call, vibrating through water, metal, and bone.
And then—she vanished beneath the waves.
The ocean roiled.
Within seconds, the water ruptured upward in a geyser of ancient energy. From its depths, something massive began to emerge—darker than the sea, scaled and iridescent. Obsidian flesh gleamed with wet light, limbs long and other, curved in sleek yet monstrous grace. Her eyes—no longer human—were bottomless pits of black.
No pupils. No whites. No mercy.
Fangs lined her maw, her head crowned with aquatic bone and bioluminescent glow.
And in her hand?
That obsidian spear again, as if it had never left her grasp.
She hovered above the ocean, suspended on a current only a god could tame.
Inside the hidden ship, everyone went silent—staring through reinforced glass as the sea goddess they had dismissed now loomed like something summoned from the abyss.
MJ, huddled close to the window, swallowed the scream building in her throat. Her voice cracked into a yelp as she practically leapt back and scooted behind Peter. “I—I take it back,” she stammered. “I take back what I said—she’s fucking terrifying!”
Peter’s mouth opened and closed, useless.
Even Fury muttered, “Jesus Christ.”
Jey didn’t speak.
He stood, unmoving, golden eyes fixed through the glass. Watching. Waiting. Praying her light stayed steady in the dark.
Chapter 156: The Trickster's Entrance
A ripple tore through the sky.
It wasn't thunder, but something colder. Older. A sound like mischief stretching its limbs.
And then, with a gleam of green and gold, he arrived.
Loki.
Floating lazily above the ocean like he was attending a matinee showing of his favorite opera. His arms opened in theatrical delight as he beheld the towering leviathan rising from the sea like a living myth.
"Yes!" he crowed, voice rich with euphoria. “Yeeesss!”
His cloak flared behind him like a serpent’s tail as he circled her massive form—Zafina, reawakened and resplendent in the obsidian and abyssal hues of her titanic state.
“You beautifully evil specimen," he purred, spinning mid-air with mock grandeur. "I must say, I recall the old tales claiming you were far more monstrous. Spiked tails, dozens of eyes, a voice that turned blood to sand." He smirked, twirling his scepter. “But this? This is... quaint.”
She growled low, deep enough to send ripples across the ocean for miles. Her serpent tail whipped the surface, and her eyes—those bottomless pits of black—locked onto him.
He was undeterred.
"Ah-ah," he teased, wagging a finger. "Don't bare your teeth at me, darling. I’m the one who called you forth, remember? That rage thrumming through your bones? That ache in your divine blood? That’s me. You should be thanking me.”
The massive siren hissed.
And then her jaws snapped—just inches from his floating frame.
The force of it alone shook the sky. Her sharp fangs gleamed, stained with ancient sea-magic and rage.
Loki only laughed louder.
“Oh yes! That’s it! That’s the spirit, my little subject." He drifted closer, eyes glittering with glee and madness. "If you weren’t so... webbed and sea-salt kissed, I might even consider taking you as my own.”
He leaned in with a wicked grin.
“Queen? No. You’d make a better concubine.”
That word alone sent a shockwave through her.
The water quaked.
The ship above jolted as if struck by a seaquake, and inside, everyone scrambled—panic erupting.
Jey’s eyes went full gold, body poised to move, voice hoarse with fury. “No,” he growled. “Don’t you let him take another step.”
Outside, Zafina's monstrous head tilted ever so slowly—like a beast about to pounce.
And her hand—massive and sleek—tightened around the obsidian spear.
Loki hovered there, arrogant and smug.
He had no idea.
Chapter 157: A Goddess Unleashed
CRACK!
The obsidian spear struck like thunder, its bladed end slicing through the air—and catching Loki clean by the edge of his smugly flowing cape.
“Wha—?” he barely had time to blink before his body was yanked sideways like a rag doll.
WHAM!
The sound was seismic. His frame slammed into the ocean surface, a geyser exploding upward like nature itself was gasping.
Then again.
WHAM!
And again.
WHAM! WHAM!
Zafina didn't roar. She didn't speak. She simply moved—her colossal siren body eerily silent, save for the wet whip-crack of water every time she hurled Loki from one side of the sea to the other like an unamused deity playing paddle-ball with a pest.
Her face remained blank.
Eyes pitch black. No pupils. No light.
But the water responded to her fury—churning violently, rising like claws ready to tear into the sky.
Inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. ship, everything tilted.
“Jesus Christ—” Tony gripped a rail as the entire vessel lurched.
“She's unhinged,” Sam muttered, watching the radar pulse erratically. “She’s gonna wreck the tide system of the planet.”
Jey stood dead still at the bay window, his fists clenched at his sides. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession—eyes glowing like twin suns in a storm.
“She’s not responding,” he said lowly, voice lined with an edge none of them had ever heard. “I couldn’t sense her before. I can barely feel her now. But she won’t answer me.”
He looked like a man unraveling.
Banner took a cautious step forward, but Jey’s jaw clenched hard enough to pop.
“I swear to every god above and below,” he growled, “if you don’t stop him—if you keep sitting on your hands while she suffers—I will flood this entire planet to get to her.”
Silence.
Not even Fury spoke.
Outside, Loki—soaked, bruised, and still laughing through cracked ribs—was trying to untangle himself mid-air as she launched him once more.
WHAM!
Jey’s hand rose, and the ocean beneath the ship began to rise with it—tall, fast, and angry.
And then—
A whimper.
Not from the ship. Not from Loki.
From her.
A flicker—small, almost missed.
Zafina’s head tilted slightly. Her fingers trembled around the spear.
Her heart—he felt it.
“Zafina…” Jey whispered, taking a step forward.
She wasn’t gone yet.
Not entirely.
Chapter 158: The Siren’s Heartbeat
The sea roared like a wounded beast, the sky cracking with the wrath of something ancient and unrelenting. Below, the world seemed to pulse with fear.
Zafina’s monstrous siren form towered over the churning waves—her obsidian-scaled frame glistening with sea foam and stormlight, her eyes deep pits of shimmering, soulless blue. Her fangs gleamed, her clawed hands balled into fists at her sides, and her long locs, thick with gold cuffs and cowrie shells, coiled through the water like dark serpents.
She was no longer the woman anyone had known—she was Leviathan, born of fury, grief, and magic gone untethered.
Loki had dared speak over her—mock her—and he was paying the price.
CRACK.
Her massive spear caught the edge of his cloak and, with one brutal motion, she hurled him. His body smacked the water’s surface like a meteor before rocketing into the sky. He slammed through the hull of the ship above with a violent crunch, sparks flying as metal shrieked and bent.
Inside, alarms blared.
The gods and mortals on board reeled, but Jey had already moved.
No hesitation.
No command.
No logic.
Just need.
He dove from the hangar without armor or backup—only his golden tattoos glowing against his sun-brown skin, the divine marks of his true self thrumming with urgency.
The wind roared around him, but the only sound Jey heard was the pounding of his heart.
Hers.
Because in the chaos of her rage, he’d lost her.
And now… Now he felt her again. Just barely. Like a whisper across the waves.
“Zafina…” he breathed.
The ocean surged up to meet him.
And then—he saw her.
The sea goddess turned, her towering form trembling in the waves. She moved like a queen made of myth and nightmare, every inch of her honed for war.
But then—her eyes locked onto him.
And everything stilled.
The growl in her throat died. The whirlpools around her feet calmed. Her spear lowered just enough.
Her pupils, once absent, flickered into existence—slim, feline slits in twin orbs of glowing ocean-blue.
She saw him.
Not the enemy.
Not the bait.
Him.
Jey’s body hit the water hard—but he didn’t sink.
Because before he could fall beneath the surface, two massive hands, webbed and clawed, caught him. Cradled him like something priceless.
She tilted her massive head in confusion and wonder, her ears flicking as if recognizing an old melody.
He looked up into her face, soaked to the bone, salt clinging to his lashes.
He pressed his palm against the scaled curve of her thumb.
And this time, he spoke his truth—not with magic, not with rage—but with everything he had left.
“I’m here, Zafina.” His voice shook, but held. “Come back to me… you’re not alone.”
Her great eyes blinked.
Once.
Twice.
And then he felt it.
That sacred pulse beneath her skin—her heartbeat.
Beating again. Slow. Steady.
And most important—aligned with his.
Just like before.
His heart, the ocean. Hers, the moon.
Two divine forces orbiting each other, even in chaos.
Her snarl softened into a breath.
And her body… shifted.
Not all at once. Not quickly. But her fingers—once claws—began to shrink. Her eyes—once voids—began to shine with a clearer light.
She held him, gently, carefully, as if afraid of dropping something sacred.
For the first time since the transformation…
She remembered him.
Chapter 159: The Quiet Before the Storm
Zafina’s massive hands, still wet and shimmering with seawater, gently cradled Jey’s smaller form as if holding the most fragile treasure. Slowly, her great obsidian head lowered, eyes softening from storm-black to a calm, deep ocean blue.
With a tenderness that belied her enormous, terrifying presence, she pressed her broad forehead against his chest, seeking the steady beat of his heart beneath the skin and bone.
Jey closed his eyes, feeling the immense warmth radiate from her scaled skin. Their breaths mingled in the salty air, a silent promise passing between them: that no matter the darkness, they would be anchors for one another.
Behind them, the team—T’Challa, Peter, Fury, and the others—were midway through securing Loki, their attention fixed on dragging the trickster god to a containment cell deep within the ship.
Then the water around the hull rippled sharply, waves dancing wildly—not the chaos of battle, but a strange, unexpected calm.
Everyone froze.
A low, deep sound rolled from the ocean outside—the unmistakable purr of a great cat, echoed through water and steel alike.
The giant siren—Zafina—was not the monster they feared in that moment. She was a creature of grace, power, and a fierce, protective love.
The team exchanged uneasy, awed glances.
Even Loki, momentarily disarmed and dragged away, cast a wary look back at the rippling water.
The calm before whatever storm was coming.
Chapter 160: His Queen’s Quiet
Jey’s heart hammered fiercely in his chest, a mix of relief and something deeper swelling within him as he felt her immense form press against his smaller frame. In that instant, all the chaos—the battles, the betrayals, the fear—faded into the background.
She was here. She was real.
Her huge head leaned against him like a solid anchor, grounding him in a way no storm ever could. And then—soft, trembling, like a fragile whisper carried on a sea breeze—her voice reached him, not spoken aloud, but a gentle murmur in his mind.
“Lohi—don’t know how to shift back.”
The raw vulnerability in those words hit him like a tidal wave. The powerful titan, the goddess, was lost in herself—conflicted, afraid, uncertain how to reclaim her true form.
Jey tightened his arms around her, holding her close, willing her strength to return.
“I’m here,” he thought back, voice steady in the mind-link. “I’ve got you. We’ll figure this out—together.”
Her eyes, still flickering between black and the brightest ocean blue, searched his. And in that moment, he saw not a weapon, not a monster, but the woman he loved—wild, fierce, and broken.
He would be her calm. Her refuge.
No matter what it took.
Chapter 161: Quiet in the Depths
Zafina’s massive frame trembled against Jey as she tried to make herself small—an impossible task for a titan—but her intention was clear. “They all see me as evil anyway,” she murmured softly in the mind-link, her voice barely above a whisper. The vulnerable admission tugged at his heart.
Slowly, she began to lower herself into the water, her obsidian-scaled body sinking beneath the surface until only her great head remained, just barely peeking above the waves. The tension around them shifted—an uneasy silence falling over the group.
Carefully, she settled Jey onto her broad shoulder, her touch gentle despite her size. His arms tightened around her neck instinctively, grounding himself against her warmth, her presence.
From the ship, the others watched—some still tense, unsure, others filled with awe and concern. The ripple of water around the colossal figure radiated a strange calm, as if she and Jey were islands of peace amid the storm of fear and suspicion.
Jey’s mind reached out to hers again, steady and certain.
“You’re not alone. Not here. Not ever.”
Her eyes—now a soft ocean blue—held his, and for a brief moment, the world fell away.
Chapter 161: A Voice Above the Waves
Jey settled firmly on Zafina’s broad shoulder, feeling the slow, steady rhythm of her breath beneath him. Her great head loomed just above the water, eyes soft and searching, trying to make herself small—for them, for the mortals who feared what they didn’t understand.
He raised his voice, carrying clearly over the water and up to the ship.
“She’s not out of control anymore,” Jey called, his tone firm but gentle. “She’s here. I can hear her—she’s scared.”
He glanced down at her shimmering blue eyes, their usual fierceness softened by uncertainty.
“She doesn’t know how to shift back. She made herself small for you mortals, so you wouldn’t look at her with disdain.”
Around him, ripples spread across the dark surface, the leviathan’s massive form steadying. Jey’s gaze swept the faces watching from above—the worry, the confusion—and he added quietly, “She’s still fighting. Don’t give up on her.”
The water held them both, a fragile peace in the eye of a gathering storm.
Chapter 162: Fragile Grace
The war room fell silent as Jey’s words echoed across the ship’s speakers. Fury’s brows furrowed, Natasha’s jaw tightened, and Peter paced anxiously. Tony quickly pulled up medical scans, trying to assess what could be done from afar.
“We need to stabilize her somehow,” Natasha said, already issuing orders to set up a remote aid pod near the shoreline. Banner nodded, beginning to tap through formulas on his tablet.
But as energy began to flood the area—attempts to reach out, to soothe—Zafina’s eyes suddenly rolled back, the vibrant ocean blue fading into a pale sheen.
Jey’s grip tightened instinctively.
Her massive form wavered, then crumbled like a colossus succumbing to its own weight. Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself until she was floating bare on the water’s surface, fragile and still.
“She’s exhausted,” Jey murmured, voice heavy with relief and worry. “She gave everything. Now... she needs rest.”
The others held their breath, united in silent hope as the giant siren lay vulnerable beneath the endless sky.
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Christ in the fuck, finished watching a playthrough of horror psychological sci-fi game and the guy who played is just kind of going on about like oh meaning of consciousness, what it means, belitting AI.
Like fuck. Bloody nearly has me in tears because in a sort of ways he's just hating on other forms of existence.
Throughout the game thr whole idea of one's consciousness being preserved, and the folks in the game committing suicide after their brain being scanned.
And he's just all grrr.
But like. Dude. That's basically how various cults over the years were. Insane dedicated belief combined with being pushed to it.
And just. It's like.
Being so set in believing that those fake creations aren't human.
"It's only basing what it knows off what other people have already made."
Et tu brute?!
Kind of why I think in my mental cycles it's like, one personality will have a hold for a moment "hey- do this thing and I'll help you this way." "Convert to this religion and I'll help you this way."
I'll have those woo brief moments of listening to it like for diet or whatnot, then BAM... f-ed in the A with compulsive shopping for a few days.
Like, cool. Great piece of art, split second you finished it, and publicized some kid suffering in another name died at the same moment. Yeah woo, your art immortalized that kid.
Did it?
Case and point, back in Oregon I had a moment of poor judgment when I, out of spite, ate a real large hunk of meth.
Was basically chair locked for a few hours.
Shortly after sitting it came up on the news that the Mandalay Bay shooting was going down.
Fuckin 60 people, 61 once the shooter was done.
Same. F-ing hours I was stuck in a chair. Old man who was bedbound at one point said to me "just roleplay" with him. Like some sort of fourth wall breaking advice.
Friend of the person I was staying with came in. For some reason remember him not exactly trying to speak to me, but like. As if he was trying to roleplay some situation with me.
Like he was some robot hardwired into some alternate reality which I had blips of vision of. But more like hand puppets. And me just a passenger.
Friend person comes in "-name- come on, get up."
Very surreal.
Similar instance. Month or so later just before Thanksgiving I decided to get drunk off the homemade wine the folks I stayed with made. Basically a few-ish days of drinking. Then Thanksgiving spent with his ladyfriend's family.
Real funky because I remember thinking that when folks eat together it's like... one person eats, and another person pays tribute to them by eating what they associate with the person talking. Or something.
Anyways.
Some months later I get a text from a friend. Mutual friend had overdosed. Same days I was getting piss drunk off a dark liquid. He was shooting up dark liquid.
Anyways.
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Holidays 8.29
Holidays
According To Hoyle Day
Arbor Day (Argentina)
Bill & Frank Day
Black Book Clubs Day
Celestial Marriage Day (a.k.a. Polygamy; Mormons)
Clean Your Keyboard Day
Day of Loose Talk
Day of Remembrance of the Defenders of Ukraine (Ukraine)
Fennel Day (French Republic)
Flag Day (Spain)
Galatea Asteroid Day
Gamer’s Day (Mexico, Spain)
Happy Housewives Holiday
Head Day (Iceland)
Hurricane Katrina Anniversary Day (New Orleans)
Individual Rights Day
International Day Against Nuclear Tests (UN)
Judgment Day (in the film “The Terminator”)
Marine Corps Reserve Day
Michael Jackson Day
Miners’ Day (Ukraine)
Municipal Police Day (Poland)
National Caretaker Appreciation Day (Canada)
National College Colors Day
National Day of Lesbian Visibility (Brazil)
National Monterey County Fair Day
National Police’s Day (Poland)
National Sarcoidosis Awareness Day
National Sport Sampling Day
National Sports Day (India)
Nut Spas (Russia)
Potteries Bottle Oven Day (UK)
Targeted Individual Day
Telugu Language Day (India)
World Day of Video Games
Zipper Clasp Locker Day
Food & Drink Celebrations
Chop Suey Day
Gnocchi Day (Argentina)
International Peppercorn Day
Lemon Juice Day
More Herbs, Less Salt Day
National Swiss Winegrowers Day
Independence & Related Days
Hjalvik (Declared; 2020) [unrecognized]
Mivland (Declared; 2018) [unrecognized]
Popular Consultation Anniversary Day (East Timor)
Slovak National Uprising Anniversary Day (Slovakia)
Veyshnoria (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]
New Year’s Days
First Day of Thoth (Ancient Egypt)
5th & Last Thursday in August
Cabernet Day [Thursday before Labor Day]
Daffodil Day (Australia) [Last Thursday]
National Banana Pudding Day [Last Thursday]
National Cabernet Sauvignon Day [Last Thursday]
Thirsty Thursday [Every Thursday]
Thoughtful Thursday [Thursday of Be Kind to Humankind Week]
Three-Bean Thursday [Last Thursday of Each Month]
Three for Thursday [Every Thursday]
Thrift Store Thursday [Every Thursday]
Throw Away Thursday [Last Thursday of Each Month]
Throwback Thursday [Every Thursday]
Weekly Holidays beginning August 29 (4th Full Week of August)
National Sweet Corn Week (thru 9.2)
Festivals Beginning August 29, 2024
The Blue Hill Fair (Blue Hill, Maine) [thru 9.2]
Chicago Jazz Festival (Chicago, Illinois) [thru 9.1]
Dragon Con (Atlanta, Georgia) [thru 9.2]
Epcot International Food & Wine Festival (Lake Buena Vista, Florida) [thru 11.23]
Gatineau Hot Air Balloon Festival (Gatineau, Canada) [thru 9.2]
Hopkinton State Fair (Contoocook, New Hampshire) [thru 9.2]
Kamiah BBQ Days (Kamiah, Idaho) [thru 8.31]
Key West BrewFest (Key West, Florida) [thru 9.2]
Lindisfarne Festival (Berwick-upon-Tweed, United Kingdom) [thru 9.1]
Louisiana Shrimp & Petroleum Festival (Morgan City, Louisiana) [thru 9.2]
National Championship Chuckwagon Races (Clinton, Arkansas) [thru 9.1]
Peach Days (Hurricane City, Utah) [thru 8.31]
Rocklahoma (Pryor, Oklahoma) [thru 9.1]
Taste to Remember (Dublin, Ohio)
Volksfeest and Bloemencorso Winterswijk (Winterswijk, Netherlands) [thr 9.1]
Feast Days
Adelphus of Metz (Christian; Saint)
Beheading of St. John the Baptist (Christian)
Blobfish Day (Pastafarian)
Day of Loose Talk (Shamanism)
Dr. Lily Rosenbloom (Muppetism)
Eadwold of Cerne (Christian; Saint)
Euphrasia Eluvathingal (Syro-Malabar Catholic Church)
Feast of Agios Ioannis (Halki, Hittitie God of Grain)
First Day of Thoth (Egyptian New Year)
Gahan Wilson Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)
Gelede (Mask-Wearing Ritual; Yoruba People of Nigeria)
The Great Visitation to Guaire (Celtic Book of Days)
Hajime Isayama (Artology)
Hathor’s Day (Pagan)
Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres (Artology)
John Bunyan (Episcopal Church)
John Leech (Artology)
Maurice Maeterlinck (Writerism)
Medericus (a.k.a. St. Merry; Christian; Saint)
Midnight Muffins Day (Starza Pagan Book of Days)
Nativity of Hathor (Egyptian Goddess of Joy & Drunkenness)
Oliver Wendell Holmes (Writerism)
Papin (Positivist; Saint)
Pardon of the Sea (Festival to Ahes, Pagan Goddess of the Sea; Brittany; Everyday Wicca)
René Depestre (Writerism)
Sabina (Christian; Martyr)
Sebbi (a.k.a. Sebba), King of Essex (Christian; Saint)
Sorel Etrog (Artology)
Thiruvonam (Rice Harvest Festival, Day 2; Kerala, India)
Thom Gunn (Writerism)
Vitalis, Sator and Repositus (Christian; Saints)
Lucky & Unlucky Days
Prime Number Day: 241 [53 of 72]
Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]
Unlucky Day (Grafton’s Manual of 1565) [38 of 60]
Urda (The Oldest Fate)
Premieres
At Your Service Madame (WB MM Cartoon; 1936)
Balls of Fury (Film; 2007)
Butcher's Crossing, by John Williams (Novel; 1960)
Cat-Tails for Two (WB MM Cartoon; 1953)
A Date for Dinner (Mighty Mouse Cartoon; 1947)
Definitely Maybe, by Oasis (Album; 1994)
The Early Bird Dood It! (Tex Avery MGM Cartoon; 1942)
4’33”, by John Cage (Modernist Composition; 1952)
The Fugitive final episode (Most Watched TV Show; 1967)
The Full Monty (Film; 1987)
Here Today, Gone Tamale (WB LT Cartoon; 1959)
Independent Women, by Destiny’s Child (Song; 2000)
It’s A Pity To Say Goodnight, recorded by Ella Fitzgerald (Song; 1946)
Kid Galahad (Elvis Presley Film; 1962)
Mary Poppins (Film; 1964)
Movie Mad (Ub Iwerks MGM Cartoon; 1931)
Move It, by Cliff Richard and the Drifters (Song; 1958)
One of Our States Is Missing (Super Chicken Cartoon; 1967) [#2]
Popalong Popeye (Fleischer/Famous Popeye Cartoon; 1952)
Pretty Woman, by Roy Orbison (Song; 1964)
Ridiculousness (TV Series; 2011)
Runaway, by Janet Jackson (Song; 1995)
Saint Errant, by Leslie Charteris (Short Stories 1948) [Saint #29]
Shanghai Surprise (Film; 1986)
Signing Off, by UB40 (Album; 1980)
The Skeleton Dance (Ub Iwerks Silly Symphony Disney Cartoon; 1929) [1st SS]
Twinkletoes in Hat Stuff (Animated Antics Cartoon; 1941)
Today’s Name Days
Beatrix, Johannes, Sabine (Austria)
Anastas, Anastasi, Anastasiya (Bulgaria)
Bazila, Ivan, Sabina, Sebo, Verona (Croatia)
Evelína (Czech Republic)
Johannes (Denmark)
Õnne, Õnnela (Estonia)
Iina, Iines, Inari, Inna (Finland)
Médéric, Sabine (France)
Beatrice, Johannes, Sabine (Germany)
Arkadios (Greece)
Beatrix, Erna (Hungary)
Battista, Giovanni, Sabina (Italy)
Aiga, Aigars, Armīns, Vismants (Latvia)
Barvydas, Beatričė, Gaudvydė, Sabina (Lithuania)
Jo, Johan, Jone (Norway)
Flora, Jan, Racibor, Sabina (Poland)
Nikola (Slovakia)
Juan (Spain)
Hampus, Hans (Sweden)
Candace, Candice, Poppy, Sabina, Sabra, Sabrina (USA)
Today is Also…
Day of Year: Day 242 of 2024; 124 days remaining in the year
ISO: Day 4 of Week 35 of 2024
Celtic Tree Calendar: Coll (Hazel) [Day 27 of 28]
Chinese: Month 7 (Ren-Shen), Day 26 (Yi-Chou)
Chinese Year of the: Dragon 4722 (until January 29, 2025) [Wu-Chen]
Hebrew: 25 Av 5784
Islamic: 23 Safar 1446
J Cal: 2 Gold; Oneday [1 of 30]
Julian: 16 August 2024
Moon: 18%: Waning Crescent
Positivist: 18 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Black]
Runic Half Month: Rad (Motion) [Day 7 of 15]
Season: Summer (Day 71 of 94)
Week: 4th Full Week of August
Zodiac: Virgo (Day 8 of 32)
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Tbh I was never fighting for you. I was fighting for me. I was fighting for Nathan.
If you don't want to know me or be with me. It's your loss.... why?? Bc maybe I don't work. Maybe I'm crippled by debilitating mental health issues but I'm a fucking fighter.
When I love I love hard. I have been fighting my entire life just to be seen as Nathan. And I had to fight through critism and judgment just to see myself in the mirror. I love myself and I'm handsome as fuck.
I'm fighting fucking psychosis like a champion..I'm fighting ocd like a champion. I'm fighting anxiety and panic attacks and trauma.
I'm fucking strong. I love hard. I'm loyal as ever. I'm forgiving. I'm caring..I'd drop everything to be there for someone I love and if you don't want me in any capacity.
You're losing out on a quality human being. I do think we were meant to be more than therapist/client but that's on you now.
Ive been listening to James blunt you're beautiful all day and I have been trying to wind down for the last hour so I can sleep!
And you know what I played if it means a lot to you by a day to remember and I cried such happy tears.
If you don't want to know me it's your loss. It'll be mine too but it'll show the type of person you are.
I'm worth it elise. Even if it's friendship. If you don't want me, you'll wish you had taken my friendship you'll wish you had known nathan blanchette.
But thats on you. I await your text or disappointing email....
One day you'll think back if you chose to forgo the opportunity to know me and you'll realize you threw away something that could have been a significant friendship.
I hope you want to talk.
Either way I love myself and I only need me.
I want you but I guess I'll find out the type of person you are.
I'm the type of person who found out you suffered a loss and reached out a hand when you slapped me in thr face with your profile picture. I don't resent you for it either. I stoll love you.
I hope i hear from you but I don't need you. I only ever needed nathan.
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Mindful Health Explorer: Charting a Course to Wellness
Introduction to Mindful Health Explorer concept
Welcome, fellow health explorers! Are you ready to embark on a journey of self-discovery and wellness? In this fast-paced world filled with constant distractions and demands, it's easy to lose sight of our own well-being. But fear not, for we have the solution - mindful health exploration! Imagine a life where your mind and body are in perfect harmony, where you feel connected to yourself and the world around you. This is the essence of mindful living - an intentional practice that cultivates awareness, presence, and acceptance. In this blog post, we will delve into the concept of being a Mindful Health Explorer – someone who seeks out ways to nurture their mental and physical well-being through mindfulness practices. We'll explore how these practices can transform our lives for the better while also delving into different forms such as meditation, yoga, and more. So grab your metaphorical compasses as we chart a course towards optimal health and inner peace. Let's dive in!
Understanding the mind-body connection Our bodies and minds are not separate entities, but rather interconnected systems that constantly influence each other. This mind-body connection is a powerful force that can greatly impact our overall health and well-being. When we take the time to understand this connection, we can harness its potential to improve our lives. At its core, the mind-body connection refers to how our thoughts, emotions, and beliefs can affect our physical health. Research has shown that stress, for example, can manifest as physical symptoms such as headaches or stomachaches. Similarly, negative thought patterns or unresolved emotional issues may contribute to chronic pain or illness. By recognizing this link between mental and physical health, we gain a deeper understanding of ourselves and how to promote wellness from within. It allows us to approach healthcare in a holistic manner by addressing both the body's physiological needs and the mind's psychological well-being. Incorporating practices like meditation or yoga into our daily routines can help cultivate mindfulness and strengthen the mind-body connection. These practices encourage us to bring awareness to sensations in both our bodies and minds – observing without judgment or attachment. Through mindfulness exercises, we become more attuned to subtle changes in our bodies' responses to stressors; noticing tension in muscles when feeling anxious or shallow breathing during times of overwhelm. By acknowledging these cues early on through mindful living practices (meditation,yoga),we allow ourselves an opportunity for self-care before significant signs of distress emerge. The benefits of nurturing this connection extend far beyond improved physical health alone - they also include enhanced emotional resilience,mood regulation,and increased energy levels. Awareness enables us better navigate life’s challenges with grace,contentment,and adaptability. Mindfulness empowers us with tools needed not only manage everyday stressors,but also make conscious choices aligned personal values goals
Incorporating mindfulness into daily life
Incorporating mindfulness into daily life is a powerful way to cultivate a sense of peace and presence amidst the chaos of our busy schedules. It's about being fully aware and engaged in the present moment, without judgment or attachment to thoughts or emotions. One simple practice that can be incorporated into everyday activities is mindful eating. Instead of mindlessly devouring your meals, take a moment to savor each bite. Notice the flavors, textures, and sensations as you chew slowly. This not only enhances your enjoyment of food but also helps you tune in to your body's hunger and fullness cues. Another way to infuse mindfulness into your day is through mindful breathing exercises. Take a few minutes each day to focus on your breath - inhaling deeply through your nose, feeling the expansion in your belly, then exhaling slowly through pursed lips. This simple act can help calm the mind and center yourself amidst stressful situations. Engaging in regular mindfulness meditation practices can also have profound benefits for overall well-being. Find a quiet space where you won't be disturbed, sit comfortably with an upright posture, and bring attention to the sensation of breathing or use guided meditations if preferred. Make it a habit to periodically check-in with yourself throughout the day. Pause for a moment and ask: "How am I feeling right now?" Tune into any physical sensations or emotions that may arise without judgment or trying to change them. By incorporating these simple yet impactful practices into daily life, we open ourselves up to experiencing greater clarity, emotional resilience, and overall well-being. Mindfulness becomes not just something we do but an integral part of who we are as we navigate through life's joys and challenges alike
Exploring different forms of mindful practices (meditation, yoga, etc.)
When it comes to incorporating mindfulness into our daily lives, there are a variety of practices we can explore. Meditation and yoga are two well-known forms of mindful activities that have gained popularity in recent years. These practices offer a plethora of physical and mental benefits, but they certainly aren't the only options available. For those who prefer movement-based activities, tai chi or qigong can be excellent choices. These ancient Chinese practices combine gentle movements with deep breathing techniques to cultivate balance, strength, and relaxation. If you're more drawn to artistic expression, consider exploring mindful coloring or painting. Engaging in these creative endeavors can help calm the mind and promote focus on the present moment. Additionally, journaling or writing poetry can serve as powerful tools for self-reflection and cultivating gratitude. Nature-based activities such as forest bathing or gardening can also be incredibly grounding experiences. Spending time outdoors allows us to reconnect with the natural world around us while fostering a sense of tranquility within ourselves. The key is finding what resonates most with you personally. By exploring different forms of mindfulness practice, we expand our wellness toolkit and open ourselves up to new possibilities for growth and self-discovery. So why limit yourself? Embrace the opportunity to experiment with various mindful activities – from traditional practices like meditation and yoga to more unconventional approaches like art therapy or nature immersion. Each modality offers its own unique benefits that contribute to overall well-being. Remember that this journey is about exploration rather than perfection; there's no right or wrong way to engage in these practices. The goal is simply to find what brings you joy and aligns with your individual needs at any given moment. So go ahead – venture outside your comfort zone! Dive into new experiences with an open mind and heart as you chart your course towards greater wellness through mindful health exploration.
Benefits of a mindful lifestyle on mental and physical health
Living a mindful lifestyle has numerous benefits on both our mental and physical health. When we practice mindfulness, we cultivate a sense of awareness and presence in the present moment, allowing us to fully engage with our surroundings and experiences. This heightened level of awareness can lead to reduced stress levels, improved focus and concentration, and increased emotional resilience.
On a mental level, incorporating mindfulness into our daily lives can help alleviate symptoms of anxiety, depression, and other mood disorders. By learning to observe our thoughts without judgment or attachment, we develop a greater sense of self-awareness which allows us to better understand and manage our emotions. Physically, practicing mindfulness has been shown to have positive effects on various aspects of health. Research suggests that it can lower blood pressure, reduce chronic pain, improve sleep quality, boost immune function, and even aid in weight management. Furthermore, adopting a mindful lifestyle promotes overall well-being by encouraging healthy habits such as regular exercise and balanced nutrition. Mindfulness helps us make conscious choices about what we put into our bodies and how we move them. Incorporating mindfulness into your daily routine doesn't require hours of meditation or yoga practice (although those are great options!). Simple activities like taking deep breaths throughout the day or savoring each bite during meals can contribute to cultivating mindfulness. By embracing a mindful lifestyle, you embark on an exploration journey towards self-discovery. It's about actively engaging with yourself - your body and mind - while nurturing compassion towards others. So why not start charting your course to wellness through the practice of mindfulness today?
Tips for maintaining a mindful mindset in challenging times
In the midst of life's challenges, maintaining a mindful mindset can be incredibly beneficial for our overall well-being. Here are some tips to help you stay grounded and present during difficult times. It's important to carve out dedicated time each day for mindfulness practices such as meditation or deep breathing exercises. Find a quiet space where you can sit comfortably and allow yourself to fully immerse in the present moment. Even just a few minutes of focused breathing can have a profound impact on reducing stress and anxiety. Another helpful tip is to cultivate self-compassion. Remember that it's okay to not be okay all the time. Treat yourself with kindness and understanding when faced with difficulties, just as you would treat a close friend or loved one. Stay connected with supportive individuals who share your values and beliefs. Surrounding yourself with positive influences can provide much-needed encouragement and support during challenging times. Practice gratitude regularly by focusing on what you appreciate in your life. This simple act of acknowledging the good things, no matter how small they may seem, can shift your perspective towards positivity even in tough situations. Engaging in physical activity is another effective way to maintain a mindful mindset during challenging times. Whether it's going for a walk outdoors or practicing yoga at home, moving your body helps release tension while keeping you anchored in the present moment. Remember to take breaks from technology and social media when needed. Constant exposure to news updates or comparison-inducing posts can negatively impact your mental health. Instead, focus on engaging activities like reading books or spending quality time with loved ones offline. By incorporating these tips into your daily routine, you'll be better equipped to navigate through challenging times while maintaining a mindful mindset that promotes inner peace and resilience.
Conclusion: Embracing the journey of self-discovery through mindful health exploration As we reach the end of our mindful health exploration, it's clear that nurturing our mind-body connection is vital for overall wellness. By incorporating mindfulness into our daily lives and exploring various forms of mindful practices like meditation and yoga, we can unlock a wealth of benefits for our mental and physical health. Living a mindful lifestyle allows us to cultivate awareness, reduce stress, enhance focus, improve sleep quality, boost immune function, and promote emotional well-being. It empowers us to become more attuned to ourselves and the world around us. In challenging times, maintaining a mindful mindset becomes even more crucial. When faced with uncertainty or adversity, practicing mindfulness helps ground us in the present moment and fosters resilience. It enables us to respond rather than react impulsively. So let's embark on this journey of self-discovery through mindful health exploration with an open mind and heart. Let's embrace each day as an opportunity to deepen our understanding of ourselves while nourishing our bodies and souls. Remember that this path is not about perfection but progress. Be gentle with yourself along the way; celebrate small victories; learn from setbacks; adapt your practice as needed; seek support from loved ones or professionals if necessary. By prioritizing mindful health in our lives, we can experience profound transformation on all levels – physical, mental, emotional – unlocking greater vitality and joy. So why wait? Start charting your course towards wellness today! Together let’s create a harmonious balance between body and mind – one step at a time on this beautiful journey called life.

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This year more than ever I’ve struggled with the way I think people perceive me. I’ve been coming to terms with being neurodivergent, maybe autistic or cptsd or both (there’s enough evidence to support both I think). But realizing, I am very other had me questioning everything about everything. Maybe my social anxiety stems from some lack of social knowing and everyone can/could see it, even when I couldn’t. In general, I don’t really like being perceived and that usually presents in me being silent or purposely doing things to shape people’s perceptions. As a teenager, I started to do a thing where I wouldn’t really try if I had to do something in front of others so then if they judged me for it, well I wasn’t trying. And even before then, I’d often make myself the butt of the joke before anyone else can. (still do) I’m the designated “funny friend” who is usually cheerful and ready to laugh. This way if people judge or dislike me, it’s not even me. It’s the show I’m putting on. They don’t even know me for me. And this caricature of myself is unbothered or you can be convinced she is. She’s so unbothered, the things that should bother her are material for the casual comedy routine she’s about to perform for you to show exactly how unbothered she is.
The past few months I’ve been working on trying to be more authentically myself. It’s hard. I never realized I carried so much shame and embarrassment for existing. I saw a post on here about letting people be wrong about you. I’m trying to marinate in that. The other day my roommate came home and shared a story about his coworker (we work for the same company, different locations, but I trained at his location) and his coworker implied that I was not capable of critical and philosophical thought and that when put into a situation that required it, maybe I’d just laugh because I didn’t understand. This was interesting because I’ve always been “the smart girl”. I was salutatorian in high school, graduated magna cum laude in math and psychology. I used to wish people would see something other than “the smart girl”. But yet it still bothers me that she thinks of me this way. I mean she’s wrong, so there’s that, but more than anything it has me questioning how people see me.
My self perception has been a roller coasters this year. Half the time I don’t know who I am, but I do because I’ve never changed? (This blog is proof i haven’t changed in over a decade now) Just a sad little guy who loves other sad little guys, especially if they kiss their fellow sad little guys, but will smile and laugh through the sadness bc what else is there to do *shrug*. It’s just interesting how there can be so many different perspectives of a person. I used to think I was bad at making friends because it terrified me and my social anxiety tells me everyone secretly hates me, but I’ve been given so much evidence to dispute this. I make friends very easily and if the unprompted declarations of like are true, people tend to like me. This truth was such a shift from how I thought people saw me, and while a good revelation, it added to my own mistrust of my self perception or the perception I assumed others had of me.
I just want to not care. I want to be free. I want to do what I want and not worry about other people. I just want to exist without fear of judgment. The road to get there is just so fucking uncomfortable. I want people to like me so bad. I realized I want people to like me so bad I won’t even notice that I don’t like them. I’ll be worried they don’t like me but it’s because I don’t like them. I want to untangle my identity from other people in my mind. When I think of myself, I want the only opinion to be mine. I’m trying to shed my skin to be born anew but the dead skin keeps getting caught in the labyrinth of my thoughts. I think too much, over-analyzing and dissecting every word, movement, change in tone, or lack thereof from others. In a Will Graham like fashion, reconstructing events through the eyes of others to try and understand how they feel about me. (Unlike will graham, I often misinterpret the evidence)
So yea, FUCK THAT
2024 is the year of Cringe Fail Cheryl , hallowed be thy name
I will be the most unabashedly cringey i have ever been bc that’s who I am and I have no reason to be embarrassed.
#idk I need to start journaling again and tumblr was already open#fuck being embarrassed or ashamed#let’s get fucking cringe
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