#tiny tarot tuesday

[horce-divorce]

✨🔮Tiny Tarot Tuesday (Feb 11, 2025) 🌕✨

I don't think anyone here now has been following me long enough to remember the first time I did this, so welcome to my first Tiny Tarot Tuesday in a very long time!

Today I asked my little cards what they thought the world/my followers needed to hear today and we got a very apt response:

🌞 | the Heirophant, reversed

The reversed Heirophant is all about challenging the status quo and the things we take for granted as 'tradition'!!! He tells you to turn to your own internal compass for guidance, rather than following others' without question. shed your need for external approval to do what's right; you know what to do, even when it's hard. learn to trust your intuition!! remember: anxiety is a reaction, intuition is a response. Sometimes a break with tradition is necessary and overdue! you don't have to merely follow someone else's script. identify what things you can control and what choices you do have, think about the effect that might have on the people around you and how you can inspire them to do better, get right with yourself and your sense of morality, and act in accordance with your OWN values. What things do you want to challenge about the world as you see it now? Why wait for others to catch up and give you approval? Act in accordance with how you think the world should be already, set a new and better standard, and refuse accept less for yourself or anyone else. In doing so, you ensure that this world and this timeline is one where people do that stuff! If you can't get something done right do it yourself! Refuse to conform to what feels wrong, especially if it's 'just what everyone does.' Take back your power!! Don't wait for someone to give you permission to do better. Just do it! <3

Pictured: The Tiny Heirophant next to an omeprazole, a small die, and an American penny for scale.

[aachria]

right so, firstly, sssbmty is absolutely amazing and I binged the whole of it in around five days. I love Ed and their character development as well as the relationships they have with the crew it’s all ugh, so masterful.

secondly, while the entire thing is giving me immense brain rot and i’m foaming at the mouth about the tarot card foreshadowing, I just cannot stop thinking about that mysterious father/weird uncle figure that was apparently on Gol D. Roger’s crew who hasn’t been mentioned since the wedding (sorta).

i’m minorly obsessed with this random, unnamed person who looked at a tiny cabin boy Shanks and went, “this dude needs to know the Macarena yesterday.” and probably also taught Shanks (and i’m guessing most, if not all of Roger’s crew) “Piano Man” and more than likely introduced a slew of other Earth pop culture things that almost certainly have no business being in the One Piece Universe.

also, the fact this guy knew that Ed was also going to be there??? the implications of that is crazy alone. how do you know these things sir? is this guy tied in with the voices Ed hears and dreams Ed experiences whenever they’re incapacitated? did weird unknown uncle have strange dreams as well?

but i also can’t help but wonder, was this guy also isakai’ed with the same suddenness that Ed was? just randomly dying one tuesday morning and waking up in a strange place with zero explanation? Did he get swept up by Roger one day like Luffy swept up Ed, and this mystery guy decided “fuck it, we ball” and went along wholeheartedly with Rayleigh and Roger and never looked back? was he spending the whole time quietly mourning roger cause he knew just how this story would end? did he not change anything because he knew Ed was coming and left everything up to them?

this shit is bouncing around my head like a million pinballs set loose, it’s chaos in here. also, these questions are 80% rhetorical and i just need to inform you that is nameless character of yours has moved into my head and refuses to leave.

and with that little rant out of the way, i wish you good day, good luck, and i can’t wait to devour the next chapter. toodles.

First; oh em gee thank you sm… you got me gigglin n twirlin my hair n shit…

Second; me and you, we’re living on the same wavelength. Pseudo dad/uncle lives in my head rent free and the way I would absolutely LOVE to answer all of these questions—

But I must hold my tongue. Here’s a special little something to tide you over though; I’m writing the last chapter of Sabaody rn and bro this arc… I lied about it being shorter than the party good Jesus it’s like 8ish chapters and the man the myth the legend is at the very least mentioned in like FOUR OF THEM. HAAAAAALF OF THEM. So like. Yaknow. GET FUCKING EXCITED.

[elizabethplaid]

daily notes for Feb 1 and 2, 2024

Got the library keys to LL-K on Thursday. She's opening solo today (Sat, Feb 3rd), as I'm taking February off for mental health.

The 1st was spent revisiting my past-self. The 2nd was starting the new friendship bracelet. Discussion below the cut:

I spent that evening going over some of my old writing and old photos. I talked with my friend about how those stories are like a time capsule - a slice of our psyche, our mindset at the time. I cried as I read an affectionate scene. Not happy or sad tears, just reflective. I was really hurting at the time (senior year of high school, through college).

Reading that paired well with my recent discussions of my behavior at that time. It eased some of my regret and guilt, allowed me to forgive myself a bit more.

----------

As shown in the previous post, I started a new friendship bracelet on Feb 2nd. I like sharing these happy memories with these friends. I had to hide away my Alaska-childhood-self in order to survive adolescence in NC, so letting "her" out again, rejoicing in that past-self, means a lot to me.

That evening, we had another long phone call. Discussed writing techniques, how to develop styles and just get the words out, different work styles. My friend's more advanced in methods than I am, as my stories live in my head more than in text.

We discussed tarot/oracle cards again, revisiting my Grail Oracle spread from Tuesday and seeing the cards he recently drew. On a card he thought symbolized me, I saw a pair of fish with the Pisces sign next to them. I'm like, "You know my cats were born under Pisces, right? They're my fishy-cats." There were also shed deer antlers on that card, which felt like a sign. Both images appeared on other cards in the draw, too. But there were more symbols that didn't speak to either of us.

Both our draws discussed the need/quest for playfulness, amid other themes. I mentioned how I felt drawn to the Hermit card in the past, on the self-reflection in isolation. After all, that's how I lived in recent years, and it was the key to my development/growth/healing.

I like using tarot for reflection. I can analyze the heck out of stuff, but I need a starting point, eg a card or prompt.

========

When I woke up this morning, Feb 3rd, I decided to wear my henna choker right away. Then I added the bell-necklace AND my glasses? This is even more significant than wearing heavy earrings on a public-day! When I'm at home, I rarely wear my glasses, because of the weight on my face. I'm staying home for the next month, so really didn't have to wear my usual jewelry or glasses. The bridge of my nose is starting to hurt a tiny bit, but the necklaces still feel okay.

I plan to work on the bracelet more, maybe try some knitting if I need a break.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that I had painted my nails again before last night's call. I couldn't find my old nail polish remover, and the one tiny jar I found wasn't working, so I just painted over the old chips. It's a neat effect, though it's a little silly on principal. So yeah, more nail polish, more jewelry, even heavy glasses. It feels good. :D

[probablygayattorneys]

Blog update

For the past year or so, this blog has posted twice a day. Once at a random time between 6:30-7:30 AM MST and once at a random time between 11:30 AM-12:30 PM MST.

Starting tomorrow, this blog will post once a day at noon MST exactly.

I am going to explain why below but before I do, I'm going to TW for really, really serious mental health issues so... just stop reading if you're not up for that.

I am not well.

It is probably obvious from how absolutely off the wall some of my posts have been that my brain doesn't work like most people but I don't think anyone understands the full extent of just how broken my brain is.

Even my doctors don't agree. Give me a mental disorder, I've probably been diagnosed with it at least once. Autism. Depression. Bipolar. ADHD. BPD. CRSD. GAD. I've got the whole fucking can of alphabet soup in my bowl, but nobody really knows.

What we do know is that during June, at the same time my dad got diagnosed with cancer (don't worry, I didn't even know stage 0 cancer was a thing but apparently they caught it so early they just did a tiny little surgery and now they think he's completely cancer free) my depression hit hard. Legitimately, so bad that I was officially declared disabled by it to keep me on my parents' insurance since I turned 26 in August.

The only song that I can even think of that comes close to trying to describe how I feel is the song Autoclave, by The Mountain Goats. Embedded below if you'd like to listen.

We've done everything. I have a therapist I see weekly. I did a sleep study. I have a psychopharmacologist who has prescribed me enough medications that I could probably not just tranquilize an elephant but also cure the tiger's depression, stabilize the lion's mood, and hook up the ringmaster with some real good shit. We spent 5000 dollars to try an experimental ketamine treatment that insurance didn't cover at all. I've done ECT. I got desperate enough that I tried to turn to religion, I went to a Catholic church just because it was the only denomination open at 3 PM on a Tuesday and I sat in that pew and I prayed for an hour that God would send me someone, just that someone would sit down and say "you seem troubled, child" and nobody fucking came. Then one night I prayed so hard I literally cried, begging God to send me something, some kind of sign, literally anything, to keep going, and the next day my cat knocked over one of my decks of tarot cards and every single card fell face down except the death one. So. There's that. That's only one thing left that I haven't tried, and that's where they're going to take my blood and then sequence my DNA and try and figure out what medication my body would react best to, and I hope that it works because I've been struggling with suicidal ideation since I was 6 and... even if I am a phoenix, I'm getting real fucking tired of rising from the ashes. Everything we've tried is just a fucking cul-de-sac of misery. I have fallen into this rut and I can't get unstuck and this is the worst I've ever felt in my entire life, I'm upset and angry at everything from my grandpa, for dying before I was before so I never got any memories of him, to my cat for not letting me eat in peace, but none moreso than at myself for feeling this way when it is absolutely no one's fault that any of this is happening. The only peace I know is when I'm in a heavily medicated sleep and I can dream all night of freedom but then I wake up but I never wake up free. If you cannot relate to this, then I sure hope you pick a deity and thank them for your luck.

So, what does any of that have to do with the format of this blog changing?

Well, it's simple. I'm not funny anymore. There were times I had 200+ posts in my queue. Right now I have less than 80.

Sometimes, I still have some spark of inspiration (though most of the time it's really more my brother just made another stupid video edit) but the fact of the matter is that I'm just... I'm not producing anything worth a damn thing at the rate things have been posting. This is the only thing I can try to do to make it last a little bit longer while I hope for a miracle because every second of every day I am in pain, it hurts just being awake, like, I am in an agony that most of you probably can't even fathom.

And, well, if it gets to eighty days from now, and there's no more posts, and no more updates... Well, you'll know what happened. I hope you also know that I'm sorry that I couldn't step out of the shadow of my great catastrophe, but I also hope you know that I really, really did try my goddamn hardest.

[canmom]

comics comints 1: The Incal

I’ve been reading a whole buncha comics, let’s talk about them on Tumblr!

In fact I’m gonna talk about a bandes desinée, a manhua, a manga and an american comic book. I need to think of more countries that have comics to read! Anyway since I have a bunch of comics to talk about let’s split it up a bit for the sake of your dash.

First up, The Incal!

The Incal (L’Incal)

(Alexandro Jodorowsky and Jean “Moebius” Giraud, 1981-88, trans.Sasha Watson & Justin Kelly)

Oh Moebius. You know I think he’s the shit [c.f. Animation Night 71], so I won’t spent too long here talking about how great old Jean was.

The Incal is one of Moeb’s best known comics, a collaboration with infamous alchemy freak Alejandro Jodorowsky [Toku Tuesday 27]. The backstory of this comic is basically, after Jodo’s Dune collapsed - leaving Moebius, O’bannon and Giger to go work on Alien - he went to comic books, teaming up with Moebius to make this comic. Knowing a bit about Jodo’s whole deal, and watching The Holy Mountain in particular, definitely made it easier to figure out what the Incal is getting at.

Well, sorta understand. I would probably need to crack open some grimoires to get the whole thing. But I can think like, oh, this is the bit where they were on the mountain getting confronted by their fears.

On one level it’s pretty straightforward! It’s a space opera in which hapless private investigator John DiFool (Tarot symbolism!) gets caught up in a big cosmic conflict to stop d-d-d-d-d-darkness from eating all the stars in the universe. On another it’s a kind of symbolic occult narrative where just about everyone is a tarot card and a lot of stuff that happens you just have to say, ok, alchemy is happening.

Apparently it was first conceived in a lucid dream in which Jodo got the image of two pyramids. He says he would conceive the story in a trance and dictate it to Moebius, who would sketch it out in real time. So it’s not quite so simple as ‘Jodo script, Moebius art’, but directly a collaboration between the two. Jodo is full of praise for Moebius’s subconscious, which he calls a ‘lake of colour’. They worked in this way for about ten years.

The result is... a curious tone. It’s actually generally pretty upbeat and funny, otherwise ‘alchemical acid trip’. Of course, Moeb handles everything with perfect aplomb. This is just the second page. I was lucky enough to be given a paper copy by a friend in America, and read it on the plane back, and it’s a treat to just hold this thing in your hands.

For (I can only assume) alchemical reasons, John Difool has no idea what’s going on and just kind of bumbles his way through the plot, chivvied along by the Incal itself, his pet parrot..lemon...thing, and the various characters who join him along the way like square-jawed Metabaron (who Jodo would later expand into a whole line of hypermasculine Metabarons who replicate through child abuse) and austere sexy space princess sisters Solune and Aminah. Before long they’re doing stuff like sending Difool to do various missions to advance their plan while the rest of them have shrunk their spaceship down to a tiny enough size to fit in his blood vessel.

Meanwhile, there’s a whole bunch of stuff kicking off in the background: a growing planetary rebellion, a decadent noble who adopts a series of bodies, the schemes of the Technos... which tie back in to the main story sooner or later. Big sweeping space opera stuff.

This being a Jodo story there’s a kind of weirdly mechanical hetero relationship in there, though he definitely puts some fun twists on it, like the time that a space bug alien impersonates John DiFool’s love interest (for diplomatic reasons), leading down the line to an entire planet of John DiFool clones. That’s kind of what it’s like: there’s never a huge amount of tension, you’re just along for the ride to see what wild turn the story will take next.

(this isn’t the nicest scan, unfortunately. it looks better on paper! anyway sometimes your page is a spider.)

There’s a curiosity to me in that, while the story involves a lot of rebellion, it’s a rebellion to restore the rightful Emporess (a Perfect Androgyne in the form of conventionally male and female bodies kind of sutured together - the Metabarons series goes a lot more into the galaxy’s iteration through a series of Perfect Androgyne candidates) to power against the schemes of the Technopope.

All in all, it’s easy to see why this comic is so influential. Of Moeb’s work, it’s definitely one of the ones that most ‘actually has a plot’, and Jodo doesn’t do the whole rape fixation thing (not that the weird deranged sex shit doesn’t add a lot to Jodo’s works lmao); it’s just fun.

It’s interesting looking at Moebius’s drawing from a more technical eye. He’s very good at balancing areas of detail with space. Panelling is generally conservative, just boxes of various sizes, and occasionally big full page spash panels - though the composition within each panel is exquisite. And what really blows me away is the amount of complex backgrounds and crowd shots.

Moeb knows exactly how to compose a big geometric form; he can supply his characters a great variety of faces and physiques. And there are so many distinctive outfits and character designs. It’s interesting to see how he shifts the art style to fit the tone of the scene; in a comedic scene John’s nose will be long and pointy, in a dramatic scene his face will get angular and accentuate the cheekbones even more, as in this scene where John meets Animah and spontaneously feels motivated to give her the Black Incal (check out the colouring as well):

In the writing side, Jodo remarks in one of the commentary interludes that he wished to have characters who change a lot over the course of the story, reflecting his beliefs about the mutability of people (unlike such infamously static characters as... Shakespeare’s Hamlet. oh, jodo...). For this reason, he writes...

John Difool, for instance, never stops changing. He metamorphoses, progresses, sometimes regresses. In the second volume, he becomes handsome. Then, he loses his beauty as he loses the Incal, but something different remains inside him. He’ll never be the same after that. In the beginning, John Difool is introduced as someone who is not too bright, but he gradually becomes wiser. He is never a totally moral character, he always remains subject to temptation. He might steal or betray, or do anything, because he is human. His energy is sometimes positive, other times negative, but is never properly channeled. In a way he never benefits from his own energy, because he uses it poorly, and usually for the good of others.

This is true so far as it goes, but honestly I don’t feel like any of the characters in The Incal change all that much - it’s not really about that kind of intense character study, they’re all much larger than life. A lot of the changes that do happen feel like they’re more driven by fate or cosmic forces than internal development of the character. And that isn’t a problem, by any means - it might well bog down this kind of comic. It surprises me though that Jodo writes something like this when to me, the characters seem much more like icons or symbols.

John's role is to be the everyman viewpoint character, a role he fulfills well; at one point he gets split into four elemental mini-selves with different emotional valences but this feels more symbolic of like, the forces of work in all of humanity than like, specificity as a character. Jodo is right to say that he rarely ever acts of his own volition so much as gets pulled along by the whole Incal affair. Which fits, because there’s enough batshit stuff happening at any given time that we, too, are just along for the ride.

The digital version I have only goes up to the end of volume 4, so I can’t post any scans of the later pages. Later things get... quite abstract! It ends on a curious note: instead of our ‘pull back camera’, the darkness egg threat is resolved (by a plan that involves sending everyone in the entire universe to sleep at once), and the universe kind of snaps back to the very beginning with John falling down the shaft. It’s not clear if this means the entire story is going to repeat itself endlessly on a loop, or if this time things will play out differently.

Apparently there’s a whole bunch more Incal stories, such as Before the Incal, After the Incal and Final Incal. As well as other Jodo-authored comic books like The Metabarons, which I really need to finish. I’d love to get my hands on those, this comic is such a treat.

Next up: Solo Levelling!

[spellboundspook]

My Dumb ass doing Andy’s apple farm Incorrect Quote cos why not

The new incorrect Quote Generator found by @makerofmadness but i only did Felix and Melody :)

--

Felix: Two brooooos! Melody: Chillin' in a hot tub! Felix: Five feet apart 'cause we're not gay! Melody: Felix: Melody: *tearing up* Felix: Babe, c'mon... Melody: AND HERE YOU REALLY HAD ME THINKING WE HAD SOMETHING. Felix: Babe...

--

Melody: Remember what I told you. Felix: Don’t be a cunt.

--

Felix: What is your favourite mythical story? Melody: The Story Of My Will To Live. Felix: I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before.

--

Felix: Ugh, crushes are so dumb. Melody: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid. Felix: But you’re always acting stupid? Melody: ... Melody: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

--

Felix: What? I'm not aggressive! Melody: Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips? Felix: Survival of the fittest, bitch.

--

Melody: *walks to cabinet, removes oreo box, takes half a sleeve, throws empty box out* Hi! Felix: Hey- what are you doing-? Melody, shoving an oreo into their mouth: I am saving space :D

--

Felix: What goes up but never comes down? Melody: The amount of stress you're bringing this family.

--

Felix: I am a responsible adult! Melody: *raises brow* Felix: I am an adult.

--

Felix: Watcha doin? Melody: Stealing my neighbour’s cat. Felix: Scandalous. Felix: Can I help?

--

Felix: When life gives you lemonades, make lemons! Life will be all like "whaAttT?" Melody: Life lessons that schools can't teach you.

--

Felix: Melody! Have you no dignity? Melody: Of course not! How long have we known eachother?

--

Melody: Oooh, a train! Felix: We’re in a train station, Melody.

--

Felix: Hey, you want a tarot reading? Melody: Those are Pokemon cards. Felix: You got a magikarp. Melody: ... Felix: It means 'fuck you'.

--

Felix: I have a problem. Melody: If it's harder than 2+2, I can't help.

--

Felix, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast. Melody: You're kinda ugly.

--

Melody: You’re jealous. Felix: Jealous? Melody: That’s why you were being so negative about this. Felix: That’s absurd. I’m always negative.

--

Melody: Could you be anymore annoying? Felix: Yes.

--

Felix, admiring a sleeping Melody: You’re so cute. Melody, sleepily: I could beat your ass. Felix, lovingly: I know.

--

Felix: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue? Melody: Technically a mix of green and blue? Felix: So blurple. Melody: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple. Felix: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE? Melody: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

--

Felix: I’ve been sleeping so little the past few nights that when I go to the alarm app, I click on the “power nap” button. I don’t set up alarms, I set up timers, Melody.

--

Melody: You spent all our money on THIS?? Felix, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

--

Melody: When I met you I thought you were a real bitch. Felix: What changed your mind? Melody: Oh, I still think you’re a bitch, I’ve just grown to like that about you.

--

Melody: You’ve got to learn to love yourself. Felix: But don't you hate yourself. Melody: Yeah, but this is about you. Stay focused

--

Felix: Here are two pictures. one of them is your room, and the other is the garbage dump. Melody: *points at a picture* That one is the dump. Felix: tHEY'RE BOTH YOUR ROOM!

--

Felix: We all have our demons. Felix, grabbing Melody: This one’s mine.

--

*Felix and Melody playing minecraft* Felix: Oh no, oh no, oh no- Melody: What’s wrong? Felix: I did a thing. Melody: You regret the thing you dID- Felix: *screams* Melody: What the fuck did you do- *sees mass of aggravated Piglin* Damn it- Felix: *screams again*

--

Felix: I can't believe you've done this..... Melody: I'm sorry I didn't know-! Felix, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!

--

Felix: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt? Melody: Melody: Why are you eating dirt? Felix: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

--

Melody: Dammit, you ruin everything! Felix: You're welcome.

--

Melody: The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was changing their name to Felix.

--

Felix: Italics. Felix: Yeah, Italians.

--

Melody: What are you eating? Felix: You wouldn't like it, it's really salty. Melody: I like you, don't I?

--

Felix, looking at their reflection: Now, that's rubbish. Who's that supposed to be? Melody: Well, that's you. Felix: Me?! Is that what I look like? Melody: You don't know? Felix: Busy day.

--

Melody: What’s the dumbest thing you believed as a child? Felix: That naptime was a punishment.

--

Felix: Melody, is that legal? Melody: When there's no cops around, anything's legal!

--

Felix: :) Melody: >:( Felix: Turn that frown upside down! Melody: ):< Felix: Not sure what I was expecting...

--

Felix: Why aren’t you sleeping? Melody: I’m to busy plotting your murder to sleep, Felix. Felix: Melody: ...The nightmares. Felix: *wrapping their arms around Melody* Awwww, sweetie-

--

Felix: Why's it called an oven when you of in the cold food and you of out hot eat the food? Melody: ...What???

--

Felix: *sees someone doing something stupid* Felix: What an idiot. Felix: *realizes it's Melody* Felix: Wait, that's MY idiot!

bye tumblr that is all

*fuck goes to sleep cos its 12:10 and their sleepy*

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Tuesday, November 15

Snyder: Well, it is quite a match between you two. On the one hand, Buffy hasn't stabbed a horticulture teacher with a trowel. Sheila: I didn't stab anyone with a trowel. They were pruning shears. Snyder: On the other hand, Sheila has never burned down a school building. Buffy: W-well, that was never proven. The Fire Marshall said i-it coulda been mice. Snyder: Mice. Buffy: M-mice that were smoking?

~~Buffy Episode #15: "School Hard"~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Pursuit of Happiness (Willow, T, Dresden Files xover) by madimpossibledreamer

Summers Romance (Buffy/Joyce/Dawn, E) by Kasaix

Who ya gonna call? (Spike/Xander, M) by Truley

The Dark At The End of The Tunnel (Buffy/Spike, T) by Joan963z

In the Middle With You (Buffy/Giles, M) by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)

Our Scars (Buffy/Giles, E) by ElleV

Sandalwood (Buffy/Giles, E) by froxyn

Ultimatum (Spike/Reader, T) by winifredsandersonsbitch

[Chaptered Fiction]

To Live In The World, Chapter 22: It Has To Have The Blood (Buffy/Faith, M) by IvorySteel92

Enemies with Benefits: Chapter 8: What Happens In The Alley… (Buffy/Spike, E) by

Proxy, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, E) by VampyricRose

Damage Case, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Axell

The Tiger is Out, Chapter 47 (Buffy/Spike, M) by Cosmic Tuesdays

Come on Dawn, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, E) by MissLuci

A Slice of Spike's Unlife, Chapter 8 (Buffy/Spike, T) by Joan963z

Gray, Chapter 31 (Buffy/Spike, E) by Dusty

Love's Call Ch. 3 (Buffy/Spike, M) by TemariGrace

[Images, Audio & Video]

Manip:Just a little Spike edit I did () by makeupjunkie95

Artwork:Every Buffy Outfit - part 2 Xx () by whatshisfaceblogs

Artwork:Cordelia & Faith () by wlwsakura

Artwork:Jenny & GIles () by dreadfulcalendarwoman

Manip:walk through the fire - spuffy tarot cards () by thatcomesandstaysfire

[Reviews & Recaps]

PODCAST: S06E19 Seeing Red by Buffy Virgin

[Community Announcements]

calendiles secret santa is officially on! by calendiles-secret-santa

[Fandom Discussions]

Having thoughts about vampires being more alive than they should be. by gothic-buffy

Obsessed w the idea of spuffy fic that’s just Spike giving her rides places bc she can’t drive lmfao by thejgatsbykid

Willow and Tara as a duality of identity truth and identity performance. by impalementation

Joss Whedon has gone downhill as his feminist cred took hits by confusedguytoo

AND THE MIRRORING OUTFITS AND POSITIONS by bakasara

That’s two multiverses now by ifeveristoday

i’m a simple sentimental fool by williamthebloodied

A possessed Angel by oveliagirlhaditright

Boom Bangel by oveliagirlhaditright

I didn’t remember that Spike drew like Angel by oveliagirlhaditright

It’s interesting to me that Faith calls Wesley “lover” when she’s torturing him. by oveliagirlhaditright

It’s sad realizing via the comics, that neither Angel nor Spike are going to Shanshu. by oveliagirlhaditright

by oveliagirlhaditright

No but Rest In Peace really is such a banger by

This is one of those tiny moments that hurts me by herinsectreflection

Help….please :/ by rachaeljurassic

I'm very curious about your take on Giles' glasses. by dreadfulcalendarwoman

Why do people try to retcon Buffy's love confession to Spike by Multiple Authors

Discussion of Buffy the Vampire Slayer #31 - Released 11/17/21 (Boom! Studios) by Multiple Authors

BOOM! Buffy The Vampire Slayer # 31 by BAF

Faith character battle: Angel S4 vs Buffy S7 continued by multiple authors

How to police non vampiric supernatural human threats continued by American Aurora and Stoney

What are your top ten favourite fanfics continued by multiple authors

I'm on S2E15, thoughts on Willow in S2E14 by PersonWhoLikes2

Everyone complains about Kennedy… by tabularasa1996

Why isn't "Forever" highly rated as The Body is? by jdpm1991

Letting Vampires In by AntiSoCalite

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[heartandmindtarot]

Tarot Wisdom Tuesday

It's time to liberate yourself!

This week's tarot guidance is about levelling up. The Judgement card asks you to take a good look at your life and ask yourself if something is holding you back from reaching a higher level.

When you can make an honest assessment of where you're at right now and where you'd like to be in the future, you'll have the clarity you need to free yourself from anything keeping you from creating the life you desire.

If you've been feeling stagnant lately, it's time to decide to do something, anything that will get you out of your funk, one tiny action at a time.

This week, there's no time to wallow. Decide where you want to go in life, and make it happen!

Tarot Wisdom Tuesday - Every Tuesday, I post your tarot wisdom for the week using the tarot cards I created with photos from my adventures with my dog Randy.

You can also check out my blog for this month’s Law of Attraction Tarot reading!

[practicallysprout]

I wanna talk a little about my path as a Kemetic and my views on deities reaching out. 

I started out with Kemeticism about 9 months ago, and its been such a nice journey, however coming out of Christianity and not knowing anything, I decided to only call out and work with one deity at a time, and eventually if others came and I felt okay with it then maybe start worshiping and working with those gods. My first deity was the goddess Hathor, and I couldn’t have asked for a better goddess to worship, I suffer from depression and about three months into leaving offerings and doing devotional acts, I stopped, I had no motivation to make bread, to play music, to dance, to do anything but sleep, and after a month of that I prayed and apologized and left bread, but then things went south with my relationship and other aspects and I stopped doing stuff again, then i moved, and I kept making excuses hoping Hathor would be okay with my neglect of her worship. I know now that she is not happy with the neglect and that I have to work hard to salvage that relationship, but I know I can and will do better. 

Last week, on Tuesday, July 28th, I went to some local metaphysical shops to get some new incense for Hathor, and a candle for a spell. While shopping about directly next to the incense I got for Hathor, was Horus Eye incense and immediately a voice in my head said that’s it. I thought it might have been Hathor but then I went to the statue section, where they normally only have Bast (tho they did have a statue labeled Isis but was very much Bast) and Anubis, and they had a Horus statue, which again I saw and heard a voice say get it. Initially I just walked away but I kept catching myself looking at it and I was talking to my friend about it and my friend was like, then get it, its not a coincidence. I would also like to add that I’ve never really been interested in Horus, or any of the ‘male’ gods. So I got the incense and the statue, and we go to a different store that we’ve never been to, and we are looking around, this tiny 10x10 store, and I’m mostly looking at necklaces they have, but I end up getting about 10 crystals, and while I’m collecting the last few crystals before we leave, my friend is like “Clo, look up.” and I look up and there’s the wind chime picture, and the ladies who work and own the store are like “what? what happened?” and I tell them about the last store, and the owner is like “no way” and runs over the necklaces that I’ve been looking at the whole time and gifts me a necklace, the one pictured.

I got home and did research, I did a tarot spread, I asked friends about it, I reached out to people on tiktok, and I got two answers. One being that it definitely seemed like a sign that Horus was calling out, and the other being that it was probably just coincidence, and that the eye itself wasn’t a sign. However after doing a lot of research it definitely seemed like a sign, and especially the statue. But there is a lesson here, that what is a sign to some people isn’t a sign to others, if a Muslim woman found a feather on the ground she might just admire it but if a Kemetic woman found a feather on the ground she might think it a gift from a deity, and even then another Kemetic might just see it as a normal feather.

I’m really excited to strengthen my tie to Hathor and also begin worshiping and working with Horus.

[cecilspeaks]

162 - “Alpha”

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Fear makes the heart grow louder. And death makes the heart grow flowers. Welcome to Night Vale.

Amelia Anna Alfaro was always the best at everything. On the day she was born, she was named the healthiest baby at Night Vale General Hospital. The doctors had never seen a healthier baby. “What a healthy baby,” they said from behind a bullet proof two-way mirror, as they operated the robotic arms that carefully held the infant aloft. The doctors high-fived each other, missing slightly. The trick, by the way, is to keep your eye on the other person’s elbow. That or glue high-powered magnets to each person’s hand. And all of the nurses cheered from dozens of feet down the hallway, where they were playing with a standard Tarot deck, common in most neonatal units. This cheering was unrelated to Amelia’s birth. The nurses had drawn the ten of swords, which is everyone’s favorite card. It features a relaxed man receiving acupuncture by a river.

Amelia learned to walk at 4 months, and to talk at 6 months. She read Plato’s “Republic” for the first time at age 4. She taught herself German and began to write sonnets in that language at age 7. At age 10, she won her first engineering competition after designing a concrete canoe that could float even on the most turbulent water. There is no body of water in Night Vale, so she had to prove her work using a software she wrote that generated three-dimensional models to corroborate her advanced mechanical physics formulas. She even won the state spelling bee five years in a row, from ages 9 to 13. Her streak was only broken when the spelling bee was canceled, after the sponsors lost their dictionary.

Amelia was always the best, and her mother knew it. Her mother was proud of her daughter, or rather, her mother was proud of herself for producing such a daughter. Or rather, she was proud of both, in a way that was difficult for them to untangle. Amelia’s mother was named Yvette. Yvette could not afford much for her daughter. She worked long hours to earn the respect of her bosses, which (-) [0:04:32] her promotions and larger paychecks, but Yvette had hit the glass ceiling. She did not want this limitation for her daughter. Her daughter would need to be smarter, more talented, and more driven than she. Yvette wanted Amelia’s value to the world to be so great that no one could deny her success.

Yvette recognized Amelia’s specialness and pushed hard to make her even more special, signing Amelia up for athletics and adult learning classes and piano lessons. Amelia sometimes pushed against this. “Mother, I don’t want to” was met with, “But you will, Amelia.” “Why?” was met with, “Because I said so.” “I hate you for this” was met with, “You will love me for it later.”

Begrudgingly, Amelia fulfilled her mother’s wishes. It wasn’t because she understood her mother’s motivation to secure her child a better life, nor was it because Amelia did not have the stomach to fight back. No, Amelia did it because it all came so easy. She was a black belt, a sharp shooter, an academic decathlon champion. She wrote her first novel at age 12, it was called “A Golden Age for Parachuting”, in which an all-Jewish female parachute team wins Olympic gold in 1936 Berlin in front of Adolf Hitler. In the publisher’s rejection letter, the editor said the novel was “immaculately written, however parachuting stories are out of vogue. Do you have anything about magical baseball players?” Amelia did. It was a novel called “One Last Swing for the Tuesday Boys”, but she had written it in German and did not have time to translate the “Dienstag Jungen” manuscript, because she was currently taking a course on bird husbandry.

Yvette enrolled the teenage Amelia in night classes at the community college, where she took English 113, “Sonnets are for lovers”; structural engineering 212, “Buttress is a funny word”; and meteorology 301, “Clouds y’all, amirite?” She earned all As and scores for college credit before she even graduated high school. None of these challenges were difficult for Amelia. She was the best at everything.

But her life was not perfect. Because of the voices. It was the voices that made life hard for Amelia. From birth, she heard the constant chatter of dozens of people. None of the voices spoke directly to  Amelia, they just talked and talked about their lives, and Amelia was afraid of the voices and what the voices might imply about herself. She found solace in puzzles, crosswords, nonograms, acrostics, cryptics, Sudoku, which I think is the one where you have to catch a bunch of marbles with a lever operated hippopotamus. Her mother hated Amelia’s puzzle vice. If she caught Amelia doing puzzles, Yvette would make Amelia go practice archery or write poetry or at least listen to classical music. Amelia’s favorite was Van Cliburn’s masterful 1961 record of Rachmaninoff’s “Piano Concerto nr 13: Knuckles on the Black Keys”. When she was thinking through the solution of a puzzle, the voices did not speak to her. All was silent. It was her only time of peace. It was the only time her body could rest and curl up comfortably into her own thoughts. Anything that took her away from her logic problems including music, no matter how soothing, invited the voices back into Amelia’s thoughts.

Amelia was accepted to several top colleges across the country, including MIT, Stanford, Rice and The University of What It Is, but she wanted to stay near her home town and her family, so she went to State. Hey, that’s where my brother-in-law went! Go State! [chuckles] Ahem. She was elected the youngest president of the student body ever at age 17, and graduated valedictorian two years later. Her friends, her professors, her mother all knew the world was Amelia’s. She could become poet laureate or a senator or a supreme court justice or a quantum physicist. But she became none of those. This is not to say Amelia was not successful or that she amounted to nothing. It is to say, the semantics of success were her own and no one else’s. Amelia became an air traffic controller. The voices never told Amelia to become an air traffic controller, they were never that specific. The voices did not tell her to do anything, they simply talked about first dates, about  apartment hunting, about their grandmothers’ improved health, about a bad movie they sort of loved. None of the voices talked directly to her, it was simply as though she overheard conversations from lives lived somewhere else. Other people and their quotidian hopes and worries and interests. She tried seeing therapists and psychiatrists. She tried medication to stop the voices, but nothing worked. Eventually she decided they were not harmful voices and that she was not dealing with schizophrenia. She simply heard people talking at all hours about all things, having nothing to do with her. And they never told her to become an air traffic controller. Amelia chose her own career, her own path. Others though the reason was that it was the fist job opportunity to present itself for her. Maybe it was her admiration of aircraft, maybe a moral sense of serving humanity through public safety and comfort. In fact, it was none of these reasons. But it should not be surprising to know that Amelia was very good at air traffic control. She was calm, clear, and efficient. The Night Vale international airport, although when Amelia started it was just a commuter hub, has never had a high volume of plane traffic and almost all of those are departures. There are very few arrivals. My husband Carlos, he’s a scientist and he is also very good at his job, tells me that it’s impossible to have far more departures than arrivals, but I told him, not everything has to make sense all the time.

So, in some ways, air traffic control in Night Vale was easier for Amelia than just about any other class or job or task she’d ever attempted. It appeared from the outside to be far below her capabilities. She held that job for 20 years, even taking over as president of the Night Vale chapter of air traffic controllers’ union. In 2004, she was featured in the cover of “Afformative”, a monthly trade magazine for air traffic controllers. The headline of the article was “You’re cleared for success”. In 2006, she was asked to deliver the keynote speech at the annual Roger Con, a conventional for air traffic controllers and fans of air traffic control. It’s a huge deal, held every year in Orlando. People dress like their favorite airline pilots and wait in long lines for autographs from top flight attendants. There are even panel discussions about everything from the best textiles for seat cushions to secret first class meal offerings. Amelia was the best at what she did. She probably would have been the best poet laureate or senator, but this was the path she chose. She chose this path because of the voices, not from what they said, but what they didn’t say. When Amelia was in the control tower, when she was communicating with captains and co-pilots and navigators, her head was clear. All was silent. It was like those many nights, sneaking a copy of the crossword from the newspaper on the kitchenette and solving it by flashlight under her covers. She became an air traffic controller to be by herself, to become her own person. Her mother was disappointed, but loved her in spite of it. Her professors were let down, but still had many fabulous of their greatest student. Her friends were just happy she was happy.

Things changed on June 15, 2012, when Delta flight 18713 made radio contact. In her tall tower, at her tiny airport, in the middle of a vast desert, in the middle of the American Southwest, an airplane appeared on Amelia’s radar. It was carrying 143 passengers and 6 crew members and was flying from Detroit to Albany over the great lakes of the American Northeast. It appeared briefly, the green dot blinking in and out of existence like the sun glinting off a water ripple. It was almost unnoticeable. But everyone noticed it. Later, Amelia was the only one who admitted to noticing it. The radio transmission was equally brief, a surge of static and only one word, difficult to discern but she heard it. “Alpha” was the single word. The letter A in the Nato alphabet. It was garbled, so maybe it wasn’t that word, maybe it was some more adult variation of “Oh fudge”. Alpha. Oh fudge. It was unclear. Amelia requested identification of the aircraft. She requested further communication, but nothing came. As soon as it had squawked, it had gone silent. But while the radio communication was silent, the voices were not. On June 15, 2012, upon hearing a word that sounded like “alpha”, these myriad conversations returned. No one else in the tower could hear them, but Amelia Anna Alfaro could. And for the first time in her life, she began to speak back to them. Everyone else in the tower could hear that. The voices did not cease. The voices continued for days and days and Amelia tried to talk back with them. As one voice said: “I have an interview on Monday,” Amelia would ask “for what job” or if a voice said, “We went to Palm Springs on vacation,” Amelia would say, “Did you also travel out to the Salton Sea?” But over and over, no response. The voices did not affect the quality of Amelia’s work, but it did affect the perceived quality of her work, and her colleagues became uncomfortable with and distrusting of Amelia.

A month later, Amelia heard that word again from one of the voices. “Alpha”. The same voice that radioed in June. But upon hearing it again, she realizes that they didn’t say “alpha” at all. What they said, coming up.

But first The weather.

[“Skinchanger” by Skeptic skepticdeath.bandcamp.com]

The voices said “Alfaro”. The word had been truncated just as the airplane’s appearance in Night Vale had been truncated. The voice saying the word was the captain of the aircraft, and he had been trying to tell Amelia something. The pilot was trying to tell Amelia that he knew her, had always known her since her birth. He didn’t know how he knew her, just that he did, and he wanted to tell her he had found her. And she should find him. “Where are you,” Amelia asked the captain. “No Where,” the voice said. “Did you land?” Amelia asked. “Yes,” the voice said. “Were there injuries?” Amelia asked. “Minor,” the voice said. “Do you hear the other voices too?” Amelia asked. “Yes,” the captain said. “I’m with them right now. Find us, Amelia.” “Where are you?” Amelia asked again, louder, more scared than before. “No Where,” the voice said, not like the vague concept of in no place but No Where, two words capitalized like the name of a specific place. Amelia felt a tap on her shoulder. It was another air traffic controller. “Uh, boss wants to see you, Amelia,” they said. But Amelia did not go to see the boss. She knew. She knew her time in the tower was done. She grabbed her belongings and walked to the elevator, out across the tarmac to a shuttle to a parking lot and into her car, and no one saw her again. Her friends said she always talked about going back to school to get an advanced degree. Maybe she went to Stanford. Or Rice, or The University of What It Is. Other friends said she had lost all touch with reality, talking to people who were not there, and maybe her mother checked Amelia into the Night Vale asylum.

Yvette says Amelia knew too much, that agents from a vague yet menacing government agency had been to their house and that Amelia must have been taken to a secret location. Representatives from the National Safety and Transportation Bureau in Washington, DC, came to Night Vale two months ago to investigate the disappearance of flight 18713. They are on an undercover mission inside the Night Vale asylum right now, on a tip from Sheriff Sam, to discover more clues into this mystery. Perhaps Amelia is in there too. But I don’t think so. I think she went to find the plane. I think the voices were the passengers on Delta 18713. I think she set out looking for them. Perhaps wandering the desert, the great No Where, to find the people who had been a part of her life since birth.

Amelia. Anna. Alfaro. was always the best at everything. And if anyone will find the plane, she will.

Stay tuned next for our new investment advice show “Billionaire Roulette”.

And as always, Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Love means never having to say “you’re a werewolf”.

[nextgensquad]

i really love your writing! pearl, could you tell us more about your dominique? maybe the first time she falls in love or perhaps what she does after hogwarts?

dominique weasley doesn’t fall in love.

it’s not that she doesn’t believe in it or anything. she believes very strongly in love (it’s hard not to, when you grow up with parents like bill and fleur, who are so disgustingly in love that they managed to put their own kids off kissing for several years). it’s just that, well, when you grow up best friends with lily luna potter, some things have to go on the backburner.

lily is a whirlwind, a tornado, a hurricane, or any other natural disaster you might name. dominique hitched herself to lily’s ride when they were five and she’s not the kind to give up on something halfway. some people think she shouldn’t have been in gryffindor (too weird, too dreamy, too head-in-the-clouds, should’ve been a ravenclaw, should’ve been a hufflepuff) but the truth is that nobody but a gryffindor could ever keep up with lily luna potter.

(the first time dominique ever had a crush on a boy, it was alexander abbott in the year above, and he asked her out to hogsmeade when she was a second year, and they were sitting in madame puddifoot’s when he confided in her that he thought lily was “kind of a bitch.”

she walked out of madame puddifoot’s only after hexing his chair to fall apart.)

so it’s not that dominique weasley doesn’t believe in love. it’s just that, when you love lily, it’s impossible to let anyone else in. she takes up so much space, she’s like a whole solar system and the people who love her are moons in her orbit.

james and albus get it the best. hugo doesn’t get it at all.

“why do you let her drag you around to all her stupid shit?” he demands of dominique when they get partnered for a potions project in their fifth year. “you could be friends with other people, you know.”

dominique tilts her head, watching hugo as he chops up their mice tails. hugo with his ravenclaw tie and his ever-present scowl, hugo who’s the best student in their grade but never truly seems to enjoy magic. hugo, who barely even talks to his own sister in the halls, let alone his cousins.

“i don’t want other friends,” she explains. “and lily needs me.”

the truth of it is that lily needs dominique and dominique needs lily. it’s not about being cousins; it’s about being best friends. lily needs someone to enable her, someone to believe in her, someone to call her out when she gets toowild, too manic, too full of storms to see the sky. dominique needs someone to pull her out of the stars to see the earth, someone to push her, someone to understand why she spends so much time with tarot cards and crystals.

people think divination is about telling the future. dominique has been hanging aroundlily long enough to know that the future doesn’t matter one whit unless you’ve got a present worth fighting for.

the thing is, everything with lily is a fight—a fight for attention, a fight for space, a fight to prove her worth, a fight to prove that somebody else is worthless. a fight for love, a fight for hate. lily luna potter was born to fight the world; dominique was born to be a mediator. so it’s her who follows lily to all the parties she sneaks out to and makes sure she doesn’t drink herself into oblivion (again). it’s her who pleads with teachers on lily’s behalf to give her an extra extension on homework that’s already late. and it’s her who finds out which students have been selling stories about lily to the tabloids, and it’s her who finds a way to hex them so hard they’ll never speak lily’s name again.

“sometimes, i think you’re better at being lily’s older brother than i am,” al tells her ruefully. he offers her a cigarette, and she shakes her head. “she just makes it so hard sometimes.”

“she does that on purpose.” dominique watches al inhale, exhale, watches the smoke ribbon out in plumes of gray. lily smokes, too—a bad habit, just like all her other habits. “she wants to make it hard to love her, so nobody can.”

“we still do.” al waits a moment, then crushes his cigarette beneath his fingers. “have you ever thought about it? just… leaving her. cutting her off. finding your own friends. don’t tell me you’ve never considered it, dom.”

(has she ever considered it? has she watched the other girls in their dorm gathered around someone else’s bed, trading lipsticks and nail polishes and telling stories that lily and dominique aren’t invited to hear? has she felt her heart flutter when a cute boy from ravenclaw smiles at her, and then never spoken to him again because lily picked a fight with him over quidditch try-outs or potions homework or a girl she was feuding with who happened to be his sister? has she wanted to step out of the charybdis of lily luna potter and breathe, for once in her life?)

“i don’t give up on people,” dominique says. “especially not lily.”

(of course she’s considered it.

but there’s a reason she’s in gryffindor, isn’t there?)

in the end, lily runs away from hogwarts on a tuesday partway through their seventh year and upsets the whole balance of things on her own. no less than five of dominique’s cousins storm into gryffindor common room to demand answers from her that she won’t give.

james looks wrecked, when he gets there close to midnight.

“please,” he whispers. “dom, please, if you know anything… please tell me.”

dominique thinks of the note she found stickied to her tarot deck that morning, the trembling handwriting, pink ink, lily’s unmistakable scrawl—don’t tell anyone. please. she thinks of the set of numbers beneath it, so tiny like they had snuck their way out of lily’s pen unknowingly, a phone number for her to call. she thinks of lily’s voice over the phone, smaller than she’s everheard it, whispering to her as her train rumbles on in the background.

she looks at james, heartbroken, desperate james. she’s only seen him like this twice before: once, when al nearly killed himself in his sixth year, and the second time, when he’d found out he was going to be a father at twenty-one. there are very, very few things that can make james sirius potter rip his heart outof his sleeve. one is al, one is lily, and one is his unborn child.

she wants to tell him. she wants to tell him more than she’s ever wanted to tell anyone a secret before.

“i’m sorry,” she says. “i promised lily.”

james leaves without a word. all this time, dominique had thought she hadn’t got much of a heart left to break but clearly, she’d been wrong.

al is the only cousin who will talk to her after, when lily’s been missing through christmas holidays. victoire is disappointed, louis is ragingly mad, and james still won’t speak to her. she doesn’t even want to face uncle harry and aunt ginny, so she lies to her parents that she’s been invited to a friend’s vacation trip and sneaks away to al’s flat instead.

“will you tell me one thing, at least?” al asks when she’s curled up on his sofa with a mug of bitter, black coffee steaming in her hands, withdrawn and miserable and unwilling to break a promise. “it’s not about where she is.”

“what is it about?”

al looks at her with those green, green eyes, so bright like the killing curse. impossible to look away from. she thinks it’s lucky lily didn’t get those eyes. she would have been unstoppable with them.

“does she hate us?”

“no,” says dominique as fast and immediately as possible. this one isn’t a secret she has to keep. “no, she could never hate you.”

that, at least, is true. lily hates a lot of people, but she could never, ever hate her family, no matter how much she might want to, no matter how much al and james drive her crazy. she’s surprised al even has to ask, but if victoire hadup and vanished into thin air without so much as a goodbye note, dominique supposes she’d be paranoid, too.

it mollifies al enough, but when he leaves for his night shift, she’s left with scorpius malfoy sitting in the living room, studying her like she’s an art piece, or a puzzle cube. dominique is almost finished with her whole mug of coffee when he finally breaks the silence.

“is she knocked up?”

“what?”

scorpius shrugs, a malfoy shrug of carelessness and apathy. “lily. is she knocked up? is that why she left?”

“no,” says dominique, too forcefully, and realizes too late that he’s grinning at her.

“so you do know why she left.”

dominique rolls her eyes and stays quiet. practiced indifference, that’s what lily had always told her. just because we’re gryffindors doesn’t mean we have to wear every emotion on our faces. especially not to slytherins.

“you wanna know what i think?” scorpius continues seamlessly, as if he hadn’t been waiting for her to reply. “i think she just wanted more attention. she wasn’t getting enough at hogwarts, so she decided to make it the whole ministry’s problem.”

dominique has to carefully unclench her jaw. “and what if she did?”

“well, it’s awfully selfish,” says scorpius, as if surprised she even has to ask. “putting her whole family through this. putting you through this.”

“me?”

“you,” he confirms. “you’re the one who’s getting punished in her place, since she’s not here. your siblings will barely talk to you. i heard mr. and mrs. potter didn’t even get you a christmas present this year.”

he’s goading her, she realizes. it’s such an old slytherin tactic, she almost wants to laugh at him. but the truth in his words keeps her pinned to her seat, keeps her heart wrenched like a corkscrew in her chest.

“just say it,” dominique says, and pushes the pillows and the plush throw off her lap, scrambling up to her feet. scorpius rises, too, and he’s a good head taller than her, but she’s never been afraid of a fight with people bigger than her. “say that you think i’m lily’s bitch. that i let her push me around. that she’s ruining my life. it’s nothing everyone else hasn’t alreadysaid about me.”

scorpius looks down at her, dominique simmering with fury, her head a million miles away with lily on a bus. he looks at her, and looks and looks, and somewhere in the middle of the space between them, she realizes she’s not so used to people looking at her for so long.

(see, dominique had realized a long, long time ago that the best way to shove her veela sparkle down as far as it will go is to surround herself with someone who blazes so bright, she’s impossible to ignore. lily’s so beautiful, sodangerous, that nobody even notices that one-eighth of dominique’s heritage burning in her chest like a secret candle, like a light she never wants anyone to notice.)

“i don’t think that,” scorpius says, very slowly, like he’s trying to imprint his words onto her heart. “i think you’re very brave.”

dominique freezes. “what?”

scorpius shrugs again, but this one isn’t a malfoy shrug. it’s honest and helpless andhe tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling of his flat and exhales so slowly she can track the movement in his chest underneath his black t-shirt.

“if it were al…” he hesitates for a long moment. “if it were al, i would want to do the same thing. and if james or lily had come after me, i would have broken. i know i would have. i’ve never seen anyone stand up to al like you did the dayshe ran away. even i can’t do that, most days. not rose, not anyone.”

dominique blinks and feels, to her horror, the beginning of tears flickering in her eyes. she dashes them away, furious and wrecked all of a sudden, all at once.

“you’re braver than i am, dominique weasley,” scorpius tells her, his mouth set in a rueful, wistful line. “i guess that’s not much of a surprise. you are a gryffindor.”

“it’s not because i’m a gryffindor,” dominique blurts out without thinking. scorpius raises an eyebrow at her. “it’s… it’s because she’s lily. and i’m not much without her.”

scorpius breathes out a laugh, and for a second she thinks he’s going to try to comfort her, to say of course she’s something, she’s dominique weasley, she’s the daughter of curse-breakers, she’s going to be something great. all the things her parents and her sister and her brother have tried telling her over and over, trying to push her away from lily.

but he doesn’t. what he says is: “well, i’m not much without al, so i guess that’s one thing we have in common.”

dominique stares at him, at scorpius malfoy in all his sharp lines, all his pureblood grace. looks at the cut of his jaw and the lines of his shoulders. the ghost of a smile on his face, the way his gray eyes rest upon her so steadily. looks at him without al at his side and wonders how she looks without lily at hers.

“what a pair we make,” she says finally, feels something lift in her chest when he laughs for real.

“what a pair,” he agrees, and lifts his mug of coffee to toast hers.

(this is, although she doesn’t realize it then, the first time she falls in love for real. standing in her cousin’s messy flat, wearing her pink pygmy-spotted socks, listening to scorpius malfoy tell her that she’s brave. this is the first time she’s not thinking about the future. not thinking about her family. not thinking about the secrets she has to keep and the promises she has to break.

scorpius turns on the muggle radio and makes her another cup of coffee and this, dominique realizes with sudden clarity, is what lily was talking about: a present worth fighting for.)

[cardcaptormary]

the dream, the outfall, the seal

Faded imagery. 

A burgundy leathered book cover, strung in its binding by gold, forming into an unrecognizable crest, like a seal, that��s guarded by a lion-looking creature peering behind it. You could almost make out the words on the cover until...

Pulled out by a single inhale of her breath, Sakura woke up to find the morning sun shine on her face. Weird. She thought, only able to remember half of what she had actually dreamed, even though she was seconds away from its previous existence. 

No time to think about it though. With one glance at the time, Sakura’s eyes widened as she practically leaped out of her bed, in fear of being late to keep up with Touya and Yukito. 

Later in the day.

After the conclusion of another tiring, yet enjoyable cheerleading practice, Sakura made it home. It was Tuesday, and Tuesday in the Kinomoto home meant it was Sakura’s turn to cook for the family. 

As she stepped through the door, Sakura was immediately startled by a ruffled noise coming from her dad’s office. She called out, “Dad? Touya?” Yet, it felt like minutes had passed by and still no response in return. Sakura could sense the sinking feeling in her stomach - growing alarm that something was possibly hiding in the study. Quietly, Sakura tip toed into the kitchen, only to find a note had been stuck onto the fridge. It read, “I’m sorry I’ll be home late. Love, Dad” Touya’s longest work days were Tuesday and Wednesdays, which confirmed that Sakura was truly home alone.

Sakura rarely ever went to her father’s study. She never wanted to intrude and rummage through his things, even if it was just her standing in the space. With both Touya and her father out, there was no way anyone could be down there, but she could’ve sworn she had heard something. Could it have been a ghost? Sakura winced at the thought - her heart pounding faster as an expression of fear swept over her soft face. She did not want to find out, but someone had to go down and check... After all, the cookbook with the exact recipe she needed to prep for dinner was down there. She didn’t even dare imagine what Touya would say if he were to find out she had made a mistake with his dish.

Before she knew it, Sakura was going down the stairs into her dad’s office. At first glance, after turning the lights on, there was no sign anyone had been there since the morning. Odd - but she thought, since she was here, she’d might as well leave it nice and organized for him.

Sakura dusted bookshelves, cleaned up his desk, and shelved books that lied in an old laundry basket waiting to be reorganized. While putting two of the basket books away, Sakura noticed a tiny beaming light in the corner of her eye. As she turned to step closer towards it, Sakura’s eyes began to squint in the glow coming from a book docked on a shelf across the way. For a couple moments, the glow grew brighter with each close step - and then suddenly, the light died out, just as she’d reach the bookshelf. 

By this point, the fear she had harbored earlier had been all but forgotten about, as Sakura’s curiosity overcame her and reached the shelf to pick out the book. Holding the book in the palm of her hand, Sakura began to recognize the crest and creature on the book cover, until the crack of the unlock scared her into loosing focus. She allowed her instinct to lead her into opening the cover, revealing a deck of cards where there would normally be pages to a book.

To analyze the design of the cards, Sakura softly picked from top of the stack. These cards held similar design concept to the book cover’s burgundy and gold astrological detailing. The only difference she noticed they held was discovered as she flipped the card in her hand to gaze its other side, showing the drawing of a woman with wings, eyes closed and hands crossed. The design’s resemblance almost felt familiar to what the Europeans claimed as tarot cards. Were they possibly used for a game of sorts? Why would these by hanging out in her father’s study?

Sakura read the title sitting at the bottom of the card out loud, “...Windy?”

Suddenly, gusts of winds began to shoot out of thin air, blowing against her face at what felt a thousand miles per hour. She shut her eyes, as she tried to shield herself from what felt like a vicious indoor tornado, still holding tightly to the card she’d just read from. She couldn’t see, but Sakura could sense the rest of the cards start to fly out from the book, just as easily as she could feel her skirt blowing through the aggressive gales. It wasn’t until the wind had died down and disappeared that Sakura realized how off balance she was, leading her to fall back onto the study floor.

Her backwards trip caused the book to fall, laying closed onto the ground right beside her. The book’s familiar glow returned into half its strength, slowly revealing a creature, which oddly looked like a golden plush bear with wings and a wispy tail. As the creature fully formed outside of the book cover, their small, thin eyes softly opened up, wings fluttering a hundred miles per minute, as they energetically said, “Hello there!” A floating teddy bear that could talk made Sakura reactively squeal with confusion, making the bear respond with an off-put “Whoa!”

The golden plush floated a few inches away from where Sakura sat on the ground, proclaiming “I’m Cerberus, Guardian Beast of this Book.” Sakura, still trying to grasp what was going on, responded with a shaky “Y-You... were the seal to this book?” She thought her eyes could be deceiving her when she saw it scrunch its mouth to one side and shrug its little shoulders. “Yeah, kinda.” 

They turned and flew around a bit, looking to get a better idea of where they were, until their eyes were back at Sakura trying to analyze her and who she might’ve been. For looking like a golden plush teddy bear with wings, and sounding cheerful just a minute ago, he could sport a pretty serious look. “And what’s your name?” She fixed her posture up a bit, tilting for a little bow. She wasn’t going to be rude now. “My name is Kinomoto. Sakura.”

Cerberus, as they were called, floated closer to where the book laid closed on the ground. “Well Sakura, it’s my job to protect the Clow cards from getting into trouble. Those are all the cards inside this book, and the one you have in your hand.” Once they’d landed, Cerberus easily jolted the book open with their little paw. They peered inside, even though they seemed unsurprised when the book was empty. “Well, the cards that were inside this book.”

“What are Clow cards?” Sakura replied with a tone of hesitation. This question prompted Cerberus to go on a long explanation, one that was frankly hard for Sakura to keep up with, as all of this still seemed like one big weird hallucination. The bits of information she did pick up, Sakura learned that the Clow Cards were created by an old wizard named Clow Reed. The cards are incredibly powerful, each holding their own character, yet they are just as dangerous and can take over the world on their own if desired. That’s why the cards would need a cardcaptor, or someone to catch and keep all the cards. Sakura also took a moment to explain her encounter with the Windy card and what happened to the rest of the cards, trying her best to paint a good picture for Cerberus with the information she had.

Eventually, as their long catch-up of exposition started to wind down, Cerberus stated with a balance of enthusiasm and urgency. “If you opened the book, Sakura, that means you possess the magical powers.” Sakura said the words out loud, “Magical powers?” Even then, she couldn’t imagine this conversation to get any more unbelievable, but Cerberus insisted, “Yes.” They then stood on top of the closed book. “Stand up!” Sakura listened to their command.

A ball of light formed from the book, beginning to become the outline of some sort of charm. Cerberus chanted a spell of a sacred promise, as the same picture of the book’s seal began to reveal itself on the ground below them. Then Cerberus suddenly called out to it “Release the power!” which made the charm instantaneously form into a large wand. “Sakura, take the wand!”

Sakura stared at the floating item in front of her. Her hand slowly reaching out to take it as ordered, yet stopping in midst of the fear she still inhibited. However, something warm inside her began to spread throughout her nerves, a familiar sensation that almost felt like whispers in her ear telling her this was something she had to do. And as her instinct guided her, Sakura reached to grab the wand and felt the electric feeling of the wand’s magic pulsate back through her bloodstream. The blinding glow burst back in full strength and force, completely encompassing her in its rays. Cerberus’s next words forever now ringing in her ear, “It’s up to you now to be The Cardcaptor.”

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2124

a few good things happened today. these are not listed in order.

1) i put in my air conditioner! it's now finally a normal temperature so i can SLEEP at night and not wake up overheating every five minutes! i'm so happy!

2) i got to dig in the dirt today! mom and i went to get plants but i promptly discovered i couldn't breathe, even withOUT a mask on (i was away from other people and outside), so she let me go sit in the car with the A/C on and the first breath of cold air was like a flood of oxygen to my cells. hallelujah. but anyway, i got to dig in the dirt because once the humidity mostly cleared up and i could breathe again, i ended up helping my mom plant things.

3) i was actually convinced to come outside because my mom said there was a little frog in one of the bins the plants were in! i was so excited!! i rushed outside and found him and he was a tiny toad!!! he was so cute!!!! i was very pleased. i ended up needing to move him so he wouldn't get in the way/get buried by dirt, so i carried him away in my hands after managing to scoop him up. what a cute baby.

i think that's mostly it for really good things that i recognized today.

oh!!! mcdonald's has these slushies now and the blue raspberry ones taste JUST like blue popsicles/otter pops and i am SO happy about it.

i didn't get to work on my physics like i'd planned, so i'm a day behind schedule, but provided i can get it all done tomorrow, i'll be prepared for my class on wednesday. i start work in the morning, so i set alarms so i can wake up to function, even though i don't have any appointments. i'll just take the time and do physics/make myself breakfast. once i'm officially off the clock i'll take a shower, but that'll wait until 1 or 2pm. AND tomorrow is tuesday, so that means joel! i get to see joel tomorrow! hooray! i miss him when i don't see him. he's comforting to be around. i miss his voice and his face and his shitty humor and just generally being around him. and his family. his family is just so wonderful and i miss them when i don't get to see them very often. so i miss them now.

anyway, i also remembered my gift for joel's birthday arrived a few days ago, but at the same time i ordered that i ordered myself a deck of tarot cards, and those came in today! i got to look through them, and they're super cool. it's all sorts of principles of physics that are depicted combined with some minimalist traditional imagery of tarot decks, like silhouettes or even an embossed design on the cards, incorporated to the overall art by adding an additional layer of flair. i went through them and realized something was off - there's 80 cards instead of the standard 78. upon closed inspection, there are two additional cards as part of the major arcana - added are the phoenix (a rebirth of the fool card), and infinity (a higher intellectual level from the world card). and that's cool to me. the art is gorgeous, it's all science stuff, and the little guidebook is in, like, five languages. so it'll be fun to work with it on tanya's daily draw-alongs. hooray!

also i still have yet to get good fried food. i want to get some as soon as i possibly can. i'm fuckin starving, my dude. i require good bad food.

[lunerbean]

Weekly Witch Challenge 1-6 to 1/12

This is the weekly witch challenge for this week! Each day, try to complete the given task. If something doesn't suit your needs/craft then I encourage you to change it up in a way that will benefit you!

Sunday: Give each of your plants a little crystal!

Monday: Do a little self love spell

Tuesday: Tarot Tuesday!! Google the word "tarot" along with the first word that comes to your head. Try out the first one you find.

Wednesday: Tend to your herb garden. If you don't have one, then write a list of all of the herbs you'd have in one!

Thursday: Look in your cabinets and create a potion based on the ingredients you have on hand.

Friday: Sew/buy/find a tiny sachet. Meditate for a moment to figure out what you truly need in your life. Find 1 herb, 1 gem, & 1 essential oil that help fulfill these needs. Anoint the gem with the oil, place them in the sachet & sprinkle the herb on top.

Saturday: Try some knot magick. There are many spells online that you could use, or you could create your own. Give it a shot!

If you have anything you'd like touched on next week (for example, certain areas of magic, divination, cleansing, etc) Please send an ask or a message my way and I'll see what I can do!

[themindbunker]

Whew, ok, don't know where to start with this one. I had to flee my home recently, and a dear friend was kind enough to put me up for a little bit while I get back up on my feet. Thing is, we both have two cats, and she lives in a super tiny economy apartment. No kitchen, no dishwasher, no privacy. I found employment, but because I just started, I won't get paid for a couple weeks. Problem is, I'm only allowed to stay in her apartment for so long, and the cats are all going crazy. I found another apartment, but I need 960 dollars by Tuesday, November 12th, in order to move in (deposit + partial rent), and neither of my jobs are going to pay me until the 22nd.

All that to say, I'm gifted in tarot and astrology. If you send me your star sign, moon sign, and ascendant, I can do a tarot reading for you-

$20 for a 3 card reading

$25 for a 6 card reading

$30 for a celtic cross

$15 for a 3 card lenormand

Every reading will come with a paragraph or so of interpretation.

My venmo is NoVaLi, and gifts, no matter how small, are always welcome. Even if you can't donate, or don't want a reading, please feel free to signal boost!

[highlyintelligentmoss]

some updates: 

have not left my house since Tuesday bc of cold (it’s not quite polar vortex cold but it is still. Cold) & I’m going a lil stir crazy I won’t lie!! how do y’all DEAL

stepsister had a baby!!! we never see each other so idk when I’ll get to meet her but afaik everyone’s doing good & pics are heart-melting, she’s shockingly cute & non-alien-looking for a newborn

it’s brother’s birthday & he’s going to watch a hockey this weekend & that’s all I know (his gf has been making sure his birthdays are Good the last couple years which is A+. also I just realized he & I both got each other weed for our respective birthdays... honestly... get on our level)

I’m just openly discussing weed w mom now? she got edibles for my uncle for his birthday? I took stepdad to the dispensary? bc I guess that’s where we are as a family?? 

my counselor called the other day which I thought was weird bc we always text, but when I picked up I could just hear random noise & his baby, & then he texted “if you’re wondering why I called, my daughter somehow chewed her way into calling you” 😂

I’m in the process of applying for disability & it sucks lmao

was supposed to go on vacation w dad in April but something came up w stepmom’s work so we have to postpone, which sucks bc now we won’t be able to go w brother & gf, but what are ya gonna do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’m blonde again [Tony Toni Tone - Feels Good.mp3]

catching up on b99 & I Need the pineapple slut shirt, for humor reasons

tryna get back into crunchy hippie witchy shit, tarot &c. but I realize I’ve forgotten what literally all these crystals are lmao. help:

(I know one's moonstone & one's emerald but idk which, & I think the tiny dark blue one in the middle is bloodstone, otherwise I'm out)

love u byeeeee