#we love. we are loved. this is human nature

[pukicho]

Can a yuri lesbian and a yaoi lesbian truly be together?

Social identity branches out in all directions, like a fractal. You subdivide your traits and distinctions until a new set of niche descriptors satisfies your ever-growing urge for place. These are merely social shackles. They share the same genealogy that cis people share for the term 'heterosexual'. It's all a grift, a waste of your mental energy. You are self-ensnared by fictitious social-jargon, but it should mean nothing to you, truly. - When one realizes that it never ends, that the fractal is truly infinite, you make an active choice to abandon the search for the bottom, lest you risk drowning in its spiral. You could merely accept that you love yuri lesbians AND yaoi lesbians, that you love lesbians, that you love yaoi, it doesn't fucking matter. You simply love what you love.

Look at yourself in the mirror. is that a person who lives under the perfect categorical definition of any-one kind of person? You know it doesn't. So why do we believe that these niche terms help define our roles as human beings? Does it bring you comfort, having these self-appointed titles? Do you feel safe surrounded by people who call themselves the same things as you do? Or is it merely a glass shield protecting you from an intimidating truth: that you can be anyone, and do anything? Having that much freedom is scary, but it also means you're never beholden to the restrictive nature of category ever again.

[acosmicbee]

Any thoughts on a drider that takes in a human child?

One Mans Trash

500 Follower Celebration - Day 2

TWS:Bullying, Y/N gets pretty seriously injured but nothing is graphic

They were whispering again. You could hear them from where you sat on the bus, keeping your head down. You were a bit of an outcast in your school, just the kid whose family moved to a small town long past the point where everyone already had their friend groups settled.

These were the kids who'd known each other since diapers and you were just some outsider. Most of them were cordial to you and ignored you, but some of them took your position as an excuse to make your life miserable.

You could hear your name, hear their chuckles and giggles as they schemed and plotted against you. You felt sick, knowing that they had some horrible thing planned for you.

It didn't help that today was a field trip. The bus was weaving down a winding road in the middle of a forest where your class would be going on a nature hike. You could only imagine the terrible plans they had for you.

Maybe they'd put a snake in your bag or shove a spider down your shirt. You grimaced, shivering at the thought. You had to keep your guard up today, especially with all the unknowns that could be waiting for you in the woods.

ﾟ+*:🕷️:*﹤

"You will each pick a partner, no more than groups of 4. You are responsible for everyone in your group so pick wisely." Your teacher said. Instantly people started to group up with their friends and you were ready to be the odd one out when someone gripped your arm firmly and tugged you over.

You barely held back a whimper when you realized it was one of your worst bullies who was dragging you over to a group with his friends. This wasn't some act of kindness, this was securing his target so he could mess with you the whole trip.

Unfortunately, the teacher didn't say anything about the fact that the group had 5 people when you were included, merely sighing as he noted down your names.

Slowly the class began to walk down a trail as you were forced to walk behind with 'your' group. They kept a firm grip on you, mocking how pale you looked and whispering about all the ways they'd make you regret coming on this field trip.

"Do you really think anyone would come looking if we tied you to a tree somewhere and left you out here?" One of them asked, shoving you forward. "No one cares about you here."

You knew it was an empty threat, and the teacher would come looking if only to make sure his job wasn't on the line for losing a student, but the idea still freaked you out. Being abandoned in the middle of the woods where no one could hear you if you screamed for help wasn't exactly your idea of a good time.

"You aren't from around here, so you've probably not heard about the spider god. The one that is rumored to live in this forest. I bet he'd love such a pathetic snack." One of the others chimed in, his nails digging into your arm.

The trail was narrowing as it began to go uphill, a steep valley forming off to your right. It would have been beautiful if not for your tormentors, still forcing you along. There was a small river winding through the valley before it disappeared into the trees.

"See that cave down there? The one the river comes out of? That's where he lives, waiting for a sacrifice." The same guy said, forcing you over to the edge to look.

You couldn't even see the rest of your class. They'd already disappeared into the trees up ahead, leaving you completely alone as you were forced to the edge of the valley. You tried to scramble back, but your foot caught some mud instead of the ground, and you slipped.

You could feel the bully's grip on you fall away, briefly catching a glimpse of horror and shock on their faces as you tumbled down the hill. You could feel nothing but agony as rocks and roots caught your skin, leaving you bloody and greatly injured.

Your vision was filled with black spots when you finally stopped rolling on the bank of the river. Your breathing was labored, and your entire body was aching with pain. You could vaguely make out the distant sound of fading voices calling for help when your eyes fell closed.

ﾟ+*:🕷️:*﹤

You could hear the trickling of water when you slowly came to. You were being moved out of the sun and into darkness. You could only whine when the pain started to hit you, crying out at every small movement.

Whatever was carrying you didn't care as you were brought further into the dark. You couldn't even tell when your vision went spotty this time as your eyes fell closed again.

ﾟ+*:🕷️:*﹤

You couldn't move. Not that you'd want to with the excruciating pain you were in, but you were being restricted by something. It clung to your clothes and skin, holding you in place.

You were wrapped in some kind of silky blanket that seemed to be adding to your lack of mobility. A small pained noise left you when the pain of shredded skin and fractured bones started to come back, only to find yourself being shushed.

You startled a little when a hand suddenly cupped your face, and something was brought to your mouth. You hadn't even heard any footsteps as they approached. A liquid was slowly fed to you, tasting of bitter medicinal herbs with a hint of honey that did very little to help the taste.

Whatever you were fed seemed to be fast acting because soon your entire body was numbed, the pain ebbing away. Your head felt floaty and light as you squinted, looking around.

Through blurry vision, you could make out large pillars and large bronze braziers, lit with fire. There was a man looking over you, carefully peeling away the white blanket holding you in place to inspect your injuries. Upon seeing your eyes he smiled, a hand moving to stroke your hair.

"Sleep, little human. Soon enough, you will be healed, and then we may talk. In the meantime, let me and my children provide for you." His voice was deep and soothing, seeming to activate something in your mind that made your eyes close as you returned to the darkness.

ﾟ+*:🕷️:*﹤

It was loud outside his cave. The lord of the spider folk hissed in displeasure, cutting therough the layers of magic hiding his true home from prying eyes. The noise was humans, but that was normal. Humans were always noisy little things.

He watched as they scrambled about outside his cave, some of them kneeling over the bloody grass where his children had found the broken child, now safely tucked away in his home.

Ah, so they were looking for them. The child that had fallen down the valley and was now laying safe within his web, slowly recovering. A soft chuckle left him as he watched the humans running around, calling out for someone who would never respond.

He retreated back into his home, his temple, calling out to his children. The spiders eagerly surrounded him, waiting for orders from their king. "Keep an eye on the humans poking around outside. Ensure they do not destroy the forest looking for something that isn't there anymore."

With that, he carefully climbed back onto his web, easily navigating with his eight legs and not avoiding getting stuck. He checked on you once, watching as you slept and making sure you still couldn't move.

ﾟ+*:🕷️:*﹤

This time when you woke up you felt more healed. You were still in the same room with the pillars and the braziers of fire. You could feel your fingers twitching but no pain accompanied it. Despite that, you still couldn't actually move your arms or legs, still held down by something.

You were about to call for someone, anyone, when you heard a pleased hum from somewhere above you. Whatever you were on began to vibrate a little before you were gently pulled off your sticky prison.

"There you are, little human. Actually aware this time. It's good to know that my medicinal skills haven't faded over the years." He said, carefully peeling away the white blanket still stuck to you and inspecting your limbs.

"Where am I...? What is this place...?" You murmured, voice scratchy, as you looked around.

"This is my temple, little human. My web. My children found you injured and brought you to me. Very lucky, you would definitely have died without me. Even then, I had to use a little magic to accelerate the healing process to prevent permanent injuries. You seem to be healing nicely now. Any pain?"

"N-No, I feel fine. B-But temple...? And magic...?" You asked. It was then that you finally registered the elephant in the room. Or, more accurately, the giant spider-man hybrid in the room. Some sort of strangled fearful sound left your mouth at the sight of his eight legs. "What are you...?!"

"I am the god of this forest. Me, and my children, protect what little is left of it." He didn't even react when you started to struggle, his grip remaining gentle yet firm as he continued testing your mobility. "You humans are such strange creatures. Are you the runt of your litter? Is that why the others harmed you in such a way?"

"I'm not a runt!" You argued, tiring quickly. He waited until you were calm to check more delicate areas like your face and fingers. "They just think I'm an outsider."

He frowned at your words as he gently used his hands to bend your fingers. "So... you are a runt." He stated bluntly, dropping your right hand to start on your left. "Well, it is of no importance now. I'm sure you'll find your place here."

"H-Here...? What about my parents? Or my life? I can't just stay here." You argued back, fear lighting up your eyes as you realized he was serious about keeping you here.

"Poor, little human. Don't you understand? A runt doesn't become a ruler just because it doesn't die the first time. What if next time someone isn't around to save you?" He asked, gently setting you on your feet. "I promise you that I will take over for your parents. I can teach you anything you wish to learn for I have seen it all. I am your parent now."

"I don't understand! What do you want?" You cried. He hummed, wiping away a tear as he gently took your hand.

"I want you to live and be happy. To find a life where you aren't seen as a runt. Come along now, little human. There are many rooms here and you can choose the very best one for yourself. I promise you, once you let go and accept your fate, you will find a new happiness here. No more humans, no more pain. You are safe with the spider king."

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

18+ Synastry: Baby-Making Placements & Aspects “ I Want You To Have My Baby”

Some were born out of love. Some out of lust. Some through force. And some through rare, fateful circumstances.

But no matter the story, we all originated from the same place. Whatever the intention behind our conception was, it’s not always ours to question. The truth remains: we were all born from sex.

Yes—some parents barely knew each other. No middle names exchanged. No shared memories. Not even a mutual understanding of who the other really was. And yet—you’re here. Isn’t that fascinating? A little intriguing. And maybe, a little alarming too.

When it comes to synastry—the astrological art of comparing two charts—there are clues. If you want to understand how some of us came to be, look into your parents’ synastry chart. Within it lies the unfolding of your creation. Perhaps your soul was simply eager to come to Earth—longing for the human experience.But your parents?They may have wanted something entirely different.

A thrilling night. A moment of divine passion. A romantic evening. A sacred, intricate, even tantric experience. Or perhaps something darker. A forceful, eerily violating encounter. A drunken haze. A high. A quick fix for a need. And boom—you’re here.

Synastry can decode how you got here. Because there are planetary interactions—certain collisions in the sky—that awaken something primal. Something overwhelming. Something magnetic. The kind of chemistry that should probably come with a warning label—and a Plan B on standby.

Sometimes, that chemistry leads to love. Other times, it’s a side effect of violent passion. Passion that is rejected, contorted, or crosses into the unacceptable. And yet—it births you.

Today, we’re exploring the synastry aspects and placements that can lead to baby-making. And no, we’re not talking about the kind where you track your ovulation, count cycle days, and prepare your body with careful intention. We’re talking about the kind of synastry that hits you in the face. That leaves one parent looking at the other in disbelief: “I thought we were just having fun. I thought this was just one night.” And suddenly, they’re parents.

Let’s dive into the synastry aspects behind unexpected conception—the cosmic collisions that create life.

Venus-Mars

This is the placement of primal magnetism. Picture two people whose love is so raw and electric that the moment their eyes meet, the world around them fades. They’re always one breath, one glance away from losing themselves in each other. Even in public, there’s a pull—one grabs the other’s thigh, their eyes lock, and soon after, so do their lips. These are the lovers who disappear into each other. The passion is so undeniable that restraint becomes a foreign concept. Mars is intoxicated by Venus’ beauty and allure; Venus is captivated by Mars’ drive, heat, and sensual dominance. The result? Touch becomes inevitable, and often, so does creation—a baby born not just of impulse, but of sacred intensity.

Moon-Mars

When the Moon meets Mars, it’s mother meets father—the archetypal creators. The Moon becomes more fertile around Mars, emotionally and physically. Mars, in turn, becomes entranced by the Moon’s mystery, aching to uncover, to possess, to merge. This placement births a chemistry that is emotionally volcanic and physically primal. There’s tenderness and savagery in their intimacy—“I love you and I’ll caress you, but I’ll also wreck you with desire.” When it’s over, they’re breathless, disheveled, lying in the aftermath of an eruption wondering, “Are we expecting a baby now?”

Moon-Venus

While this doesn’t scream “baby-making” in the animalistic way Mars does, this is where nurturance births desire. The Moon and Venus adore one another. They give, they listen, they soften into each other. This is a relationship built on emotional intimacy and mutual admiration, and that kind of love leads them naturally to the bedroom. They enter slowly, gently. But once there, they fully give. The Moon whispers, “You’re my forever.” Venus replies, “Let’s ground this love.” And grounding often looks like creating something permanent—like a child born from devotion.

Moon-Jupiter

Here, expansion is emotional. The Moon feels seen, held, and uplifted by Jupiter. Jupiter feels nourished and stabilized by the Moon. Together, they believe in a future—they see their love as abundant, blessed, and filled with potential. They talk of homes, children, and the life they’ll build. Even if they hadn’t planned to, a baby becomes a symbol of everything they feel together: growth, luck, joy. The Moon brings fertility, and Jupiter multiplies it. They don’t just imagine one child—they dream of many, of legacies, of laughter echoing through the hallways of a home they’ve built together.

Mars in the 5th House

This placement screams spontaneity and heat. These are the “it just happened” people—the ones who get carried away in the moment and find themselves pregnant after a wild, passionate encounter. Mars energizes the 5th house of pleasure and children. Sex is fun, fast, and frequent—and every time, the possibility of a baby looms. They might not mean to, but the chemistry is too strong. Fertility follows fire.

Moon in the 5th House

This placement brings emotional intimacy straight into the realm of creation. The more emotionally connected these two become, the more they crave a family. Sometimes they want it, sometimes they don’t—but when the emotions are flowing, so is fertility. Their desire for children ebbs and flows with their emotional tides, but when the tide is high, they dream of parenthood, of bedtime stories and holding tiny hands. Ultimate baby-making potential.

Jupiter in the 5th House

Jupiter in the 5th is an amplifier—it expands everything it touches. These two are passionate adventurers, always seeking joy, always craving more. More love, more laughter, more life. They’re affectionate, exuberant, and never far from one another. Their love is visible, radiant, and full of enthusiasm. And eventually, they want to grow something tangible from it—children. Not just one. A family. A tribe. Jupiter makes the love feel so bountiful that creation becomes inevitable.

Mars-Pluto

This is a relationship built on sex. This is a relationship built on magnetism. This is a relationship forged in the molten pull between two souls who cannot resist one another. It is the quintessential “I’m wrecking you—and I don’t even mind.” It’s transformation through sex, an unspoken demand for surrender. One seeks to dominate in overt, physical ways—demolishing, devouring. The other conquers in covert currents—through presence, aura, silence, and words that hypnotize. This is not merely bedroom activity. This is a battlefield. Here, chains are not props—they are metaphors. Each lover competes for control while secretly craving submission. And in the end, neither submits—not fully. Not entirely. They circle each other, burning, breathing fire into flesh, mind, and spirit. The passion becomes addictive. The intensity defies language. Orgasms are insufficient; they’re just intermissions. Round after round, they lose track of time, lose track of self, lose track of the line between pleasure and undoing. It’s animalistic. Primal. But also deeply intentional—A sacred ritual of domination and exposure. They leave the room not knowing what, exactly, they’ve done—Only that they’ve undone each other in every way imaginable. And this is the kind of sex so consuming, so repetitive, so charged—that it doesn’t just stir the desire for creation…It insists on it. You can’t touch that kind of fire without risking a spark that becomes life.

Moon-Pluto

Here, Pluto ruins the Moon. The Moon is sanctuary. A temple of comfort. A home, a haven, a sacred inner coven. And Pluto doesn’t care. Pluto doesn’t come to preserve. Pluto comes to destroy—and then rebuild. It has visions the Moon has never dared to imagine. Where the Moon seeks safety, Pluto seeks transformation. And Pluto doesn’t arrive loudly. Pluto arrives silently. With eyes that hypnotize, with words that undress. Pluto speaks to the hidden parts of you—the ones you’ve never shared with anyone. And somehow, Pluto already knows. It sees through your pain. Through your softness, your stories, your carefully tended self. It strips you down to your rawest essence—then spits you out: guts and glory. This is the kind of love where the Moon tries to run. Because Pluto is danger. Pluto is the part of us we hide from the world. But Pluto doesn’t chase. Pluto consumes. Easily. Quietly. Completely. The Moon is seduced—to the highest highs and the darkest, most primal depths. Pluto awakens the taboos, the fantasies the Moon swore it would never explore—unless trust ran deeper than blood. And Pluto earns that trust with just a gaze. The Moon submits, not through force, but through revelation. And in that surrender, the Moon feels… nourished. In a place no one has ever touched. This is sex that isn’t just physical—It’s ancestral. It touches the unconscious, the dream realm, the inner child’s wounds, the cries of the foremothers, the shame buried deep in bone and blood. This kind of sex stirs. It unravels. It says, I will break these generational curses. I will unchain us. I will create through you. It’s not just orgasmic—it’s alchemical. This is not sex you forget. It makes you obsessive. Addicted. Changed. You crave more not out of desire—but because it feels like your soul is being rewritten, Like something ancient is being summoned through you. And so, the child conceived here—isn’t born just from passion. But from awakening. From a force that demands legacy. That says: Now that we’ve touched the fire—let something rise from the ash.

Neptune-Mars

These are the kinds of lovers who never fully know where one ends and the other begins. Boundaries blur. Reality bends. And logic? It’s often the first to dissolve. This is the kind of connection that becomes sticky, surreal—where sex is not just an act, but an escape. Sometimes, it’s an escape from their own relationship issues. Other times, it’s a refuge from the dullness of ordinary life. When life feels grey, they paint it in shades of ecstasy behind closed doors. Fantasies rise like smoke between them, emerging as their bodies collide—sensitive skin against sensitive skin, each touch feeling like a soul crossing. They pierce each other not with pain, but with presence. There is no veil. No distance. They become one—orgasmically, spiritually, physically demolished and reborn. They cry out names, moan in longing, but in their minds, they’re not just lovers. They are myths in motion. Mars brings primal power—urgent, rough, consuming. It stirs the carnal hunger neither knew they carried. Neptune wraps it in mysticism, in elusive tenderness, turning every movement into a spiritual offering.The rhythm of their love—sometimes fast, sometimes slow—becomes sacred. Their sex feels faded, fated. A tantric marriage of body and soul. Kisses blur, limbs intertwine,And they lose the ability to separate flesh from feeling. For them, sex is communion. A dream wrapped in sweat and stardust. Half-animal, half-angel, they fall into each other over and over again. They’re addicted—not just to each other, but to the high. The escape. The drunkenness of divine lust. Their bedroom becomes a temple of illusion. A cup overflowing, a taste of forbidden wine, a room filled with smoke that fogs the mind and frees the spirit. In this union, they forget. Plan B is forgotten. Birth control becomes an afterthought. Even their former resistance to parenthood dissolves. Because in their haze—the sacred delirium of pleasure and union—they birth more than orgasms. They birth children from the safe haven of release.

North Node–Moon

This is not a casual meeting. There’s nothing ordinary about two souls chosen to carry the weight and wisdom of ancestral memory into the future. This is the kind of love that dives deep—through lifetimes, through bloodlines, through the echoes of generations past. Together, you break the cycles that once hindered you. Together, you create something new. Not just for yourselves, but for the lineage you both carry—and the one you are destined to birth. This is not just fated love. This is evolutionary love. Love that births a new family line, rooted in healing, in consciousness, in renewal, in rebirth. Sex with this person is not merely physical. It is ritual. It is trance. It is sacred ceremony under divine surveillance. The gods, the ancestors, the angels, the spirit guides—They watch. They bless. They witness. Sex becomes a sacred transmission, a moment where time dissolves, and something eternal speaks through your breath, your cries, your motion. The pull toward each other is at times uncontrollable, the union overwhelming. Emotions rise—tears, outpourings, release. Memories resurface—some not even yours. Sex feels like remembering. Like coming home to something your soul has known for lifetimes. It feels divine. Plotted across timelines. Lit by God’s own light. And though it is physical, it is also a spiritual sanction—a vessel for calling in new souls. Souls waiting to arrive. Souls ready to change the course of the world. These moments together carry the weight of that destiny. There is nothing casual about this. This love is novel—yes. But it’s also ancient. It carries a divine intelligence, a spiritual orchestration far beyond this plane. It calls forth evolution. It births sacred beings. It builds families not just by DNA, but by emotional resonance, soul kinship, and divine design. Sex between these lovers becomes meditation, a merging beyond the veil, a connection that stirs discomfort, because it’s so much bigger than desire. And yet, they fall into it—again and again—because they must. Because this is how new life begins. How new timelines are birthed. How transformation becomes embodied. And the only possible result? A child. A soul. A new world, born from sacred fire.

Uranus–Mars

This is a highly charged interaction between two lovers. Electric. Explosive. Erratic. This is combustion, orgasm seated deep in the soul, rising to the surface whenever they’re near. It doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t wait. It erupts. This is the awakening of primal, animalistic energy—the part of you usually hold back, afraid it might destroy someone. But not with this lover. With them, you don’t hold back. They don’t want you to. They don’t care where it happens—anytime. Anyplace. Public or private. Under sheets or against walls. When it rises, you must act. It pulsates through you, overtakes you, keeps your body hot, your cheeks flushed, your eyes glistening. And they know. They feel it too. That aching, soul-deep craving. That hunger that can’t be denied. You find yourselves parking the car at midnight, just to feel each other. To lose yourselves in the exploration of touch, of fantasy now turned reality. Everything you’ve imagined, now embodied, now acted out. You speak of future timelines that don’t even exist, But the mere idea of becoming something together makes you magnetic to one another. Mental sparks become physical ones. Stimulation of the mind turns into one pinning the other down—a seamless transition from conversation to carnal collision. This is sex of the minds and the bodies. Manipulating through words, minds reading each other’s intentions, tongues spilling truths and fantasies. Long moans tangled with meaning. Ideas turned into foreplay. This is the kind of passion that ignites the fire and brings the air to keep it burning. Not quick, not forgettable. This sex builds. This sex compounds. It becomes more every time. These are the lovers who find each other on opposite ends of the earth, yet somehow reunite under moonlight just to awaken the wolf between their legs. This is the wild cry of, “demolish me. Destroy me.” This is erratic love. The summer flame that never quite dies. The situationship that lingers. The sneaky link that stretches into years. The magnetic pull between them is unstoppable. They’re drawn again and again—Into long nights of pounding hearts, sweaty limbs, pulsing need. And eventually, amid the madness, between their casual returns to daily life—There it is: Morning sickness. Tender breasts. A missed period. A pregnancy test. And the electricity of desire becomes something else entirely: A life sparked in chaos. A soul born from the thunder of touch.

Uranus–Moon

This is a love story written across timelines. Future lovers with ancient souls. A fusion of past and future, merging somewhere in the middle—in the electrified, emotional now. One brings wild vision: A mind full of innovation, rebellion, and dreams too big for words. Uranus—the disruptor, the futurist, the spark. The other, the Moon—rooted, grounded, soft and slow. A soul who just wants to simmer in stillness, to feel deeply and stay close to the earth. But Uranus won’t let the Moon stay quiet for long. It yanks the Moon from its cocoon, spins it forward through time, and together, they collide—eletricity meeting water, idealism meeting emotion, awe meeting comfort. This is a relationship where ecstasy and joy are fused with ancestral memory. They feel like they’ve known each other forever, And yet they dream of futures they’ve never spoken aloud—timelines and prophecies they’ve both imagined before they ever acted them out. These are the lovers who, at random times—in the car, at the kitchen sink, during a lull in conversation—feel emotion rise like a wave. And from that wave, comes the hunger. A simple “I love you” spirals into an urgent, unspoken call to collide. Bodies glide. Souls stir. They make love not just from passion, but from prophecy. Sex, for them, is not casual. It is transformation. It is the seed of something greater— a lineage shift. A future child. A dream made flesh. They crave each other at the strangest times—not just from desire, but from alignment. The brushing of a hand. The soft sound of teeth against lip. The glimmer in each other’s eyes—suddenly, they’re undone. Their sex is mentally electric, emotionally soft. They cross veils together, time and time again. One speaks in ideas, the other in feelings. Then suddenly, they’re tussling in the bedroom—laughter mixed with moans, memory mixed with novelty. They try new things, explore fantasies, but they also return to the tried-and-true: The positions that promise release, the movements they know will unravel one another. It’s all woven in—past pleasure, future promise. They lift and throw, push and pull. There’s laughter in the air—a kind of mischievous joy. Because this isn’t just sex. It’s a rehearsal for their future: As parents. As guides. As creators of a new lineage. They dream of raising a child— Emotionally secure, brillant beyond their years, destined to transform the world. This is not just a relationship. It’s a meeting of destinies. Explorative. Explosive. Fated. And each time they touch, each time they merge, they whisper to the universe:“We are ready to birth something new.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Brain got to thinking about 'Viltrumites are actually aliens au' + ViltruWives. And the fact that the eggs get larger with size and/or age. (It's scratching parts of my brain I didn't know existed until I stumbled upon your delightfully captivating works. Genuinely, thank you so much for that.)

*Bites knuckles* Isn't Thragg 7'ft something and nearly 400+ pounds in the comics? With Conquest coming in at a close second? Fuckin woof.

Also, consider... Nolan at least had his time before with Debbie to get used to having his egg times with a mate around. But the other three having had thousands of years without... If the Wifeys hit an egg season all at once, would reader end up as the polar opposite of the 'shriveled up raisin in bed' guy meme? Just, belly full of eggs. Full on flipped over turtle mode. Resigned to not moving properly for a while even if they weren't rung out. Or not until they can either push some out or naturally re-absorb. At least they got four big, now very happy viltumite partners that'll cuddle with them in the meantime.

viltrumwives in the viltrumites are actually alien au

under cut cuz i wrote more than i expected

yes i used that gif on purpose, lmao

Nolan would be smart enough to tell the reader about their egg season, cuz he remembers being with Debbie and the chaos that was. Guy probably has to make a whole guide or powerpoint explaining it and the process to the reader, and being like “if you dont wanna be full of eggs... find somewhere to hide out”, at least the first couple of times until all the viltrumwives realize “hey, I can carry my clutch myself”. 

Thragg canonically fucks if I remember correctly, so he's had mates but with them it was just to reproduce. Now he actually has a partner he wants to do it with for pleasure and love? Crazy new experience for him. Hes got the largest eggs I think, because he's the strongest and biggest. For some reason I'm vizualising his eggs looking almost like those bright orange fish eggs, but they're much bigger, and solid. Like those hard rubber balls you throw around, the size of golf balls. They kinda look like amber, tbh. 

Conquest has the next biggest and his clutches are bigger, just from the fact that he hasnt had past mates. So now his body is overproducing cuz “we are old, must have as many as possible, now”. Lowkey think he would be the first to be like “I'll just carry my clutch myself, worm(affectionately) get on me now” kinda situation. His eggs are about as solid as Thragg, they're still a little squishy but you can't crush them easily. His eggs would be a deep red which turns a deeper crimson in the middle. 

Kregg has the smallest eggs, but they are still bigger than average thanks to age and strength, but I do have a feeling he would have had mates in the past, cuz of their whole culture and all that. He has most control of himself during egg season, claims it's because he wants to stay clear headed, but its cuz he gets embarrassed thinking about becoming a panting drooling begging mess like some others do. His eggs are a soft yellow with a warm center color. 

Nolan has the most experience and the latest experience, so he doesnt go as wild as the other three cuz he knows the limits of human bodies, after much experimentation with Debbie. This means his clutches aren't as big as the other three, and his eggs are squishier, but not weak or anything. Kinda like squishing an eraser between your fingers. His eggs are a lighter blue, like cornflower blue, with a deeper purple center. 

All in all, reader is getting stuffed the first couple of times unless hes really really against it, you know? And yeah, the viltrumwives are gonna be showing off too, so there are eggs on the bed, staining the sheets, on the floor, they're everywhere. After the first time yall have to set up designated “egging” areas cuz it was a nightmare to clean up. 

At least they all get extra chuffy and cuddly when their brains are like “yes, yes, clutch laid, must cuddle and comfort mate for healthy clutch”. They give great massages. 

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

I feel like we are so used to defending ourselves (or our trans siblings in the community) against that transphobic myth about „high regret rates“ that we forget that some regret is actually a natural part of living as a human being. 

Nobody goes through life never regretting anything. You’ll pretty regularly regret things you did or did not do. Everyone does. 

That may sound like some super pessimistic worldview, but really, it’s a good and necessary thing! You can only learn from experiences after having experienced them - and learning includes looking back and thinking „I should’ve done that differently“. 

Look at any big, life-altering decision, like moving to a new place or accepting a job or making a big purchase (like a car) or getting in a relationship or getting married or having a kid or signing up for college… or even just getting a tattoo. People can regret all these things - and lots of people do. It happens all the time and it’s not the end of the world. It’s just part of life. 

Now you may think „hold on, it’s not like everyone hates their job, home, partner and kids“ and you’re right - but regret isn’t an all or nothing thing. 

Let’s take weddings as an example here. Of course someone could regret their wedding in the sense of „I never should’ve married this person at all“ (and people regularly do, that’s why the right to divorce is important) - but there are also plenty of people who are happy with their marriage and still have some regrets about their wedding. It could be „We spent too much money on it“ or „I thought I wanted to invite all my family but looking back, I wish it would’ve just been my closest friends“ or „I wish I would’ve been brave enough to choose the colorful dress I loved over the traditional one my mom liked“. 

Similarly, trans people can have regrets about their coming out or their (social or physical) transition without it being a „I’m actually not trans at all“ situation. People can continuously identify as trans and still have regrets like „I wish I’d gone to a different surgeon“ or „Looking back, it would’ve been easier if I waited to come out until I moved out of my parents house“ or „If I had to do it all over again, I’d give myself more time to explore my options“ or „I wish I could have afforded professional voice training.“

Of course that „I thought I was trans but I’m actually not“ situation can happen too (even though it’s statistically actually much rarer than divorce). The point isn’t to deny that it ever happens - I’m just saying we shouldn’t get so obsessed with having to prove it’s rare that we start to beat ourselves up over those smaller, more common regrets that come with any big life decision. 

Having regrets is part of human life, and trans people are just human beings. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[horsedylan]

A Better article about Dylan’s Baseball Roster.

The Columbine Gunman was a Fantasy Leaguer

April 1999

It is human nature to be curious. So we need not deny our morbid fascination with the events in Littleton, Colorado last week. The attraction is not voyeuristic, it is deeply rooted in shock and anger and fear. We seek information to somehow put a frame around the harsh reality, and in the end, find a way to protect ourselves and our loved ones. This essay is merely a reflection on that curiosity.

It is odd, and it is creepy.

The media reported that Columbine High School gunmen Dylan Klebold was an avid fantasy leaguer. In fact, he was allegedly quite good. Not much was made of this tidbit; it was a passing comment in most news reports and articles. But we, as members of this club some 4 million strong, have to stop and pause.

The Columbine Fantasy Baseball League (CFBL) entered its fourth year in 1999. Composed of 12 mixed league teams, the CFBL plays a points-based competition. Singles are one point, homers are five, pitch a perfect game and add 75 points to your bottom line. In concept, it’s similar to Steve Mann’s Front Office Baseball format, although the point totals are different.

Teams are scheduled head-to-head in a winner-take-all contest each week. The most points that week garners a win. The top weekly victors meet in a playoff series in September.

Active rosters are 14 at fixed positions. Add to that up to 9 reserves, which can be players at any position.

Dylan Klebold was good enough to finish in fourth place in each of 1997 and 1998. His team was 2-0 on April 20, 1999.

There is a certain psychological aspect to playing fantasy baseball that is rarely explored.

Why do we REALLY choose the teams that we do? Despite having the best information, we’ll often defy logic in selecting players. There is empirical evidence that certain draft strategies consistently work while others do not, yet we’ll often go astray in quest of one player.

Barry Bonds, $52.

When it comes down to it, our fantasy teams are a reflection of ourselves. The need to own a Barry Bonds at any cost is a reflection of our need to own the best. If we own the best, we must be the best.

For those who refuse to pay over $30 for a player, that too is a reflection. Perhaps it is our own personal aversion to risk-taking. Perhaps it is a defense response to having been burnt by that $40 player who spent the past summer on the DL.

How many fantasy leaguers drafted Moises Alou this year? Are you futurists? Speculators? Do you typically sacrifice uncertain todays for the chance at high-payoff tomorrows?

How many people drafted Todd Hollandsworth? Orel Hershiser? Doc Gooden? It’s been many years since any one of these players has been a productive fantasy property. Are their owners short on memory but long on hope?

Perhaps it’s like tea leaves. Or palmistry. You can scan anyone’s roster and likely reveal a little piece of the person behind the team.

This is the team that Dylan Klebold assembled during the CFBL’s early March draft:

Wohlers, Galarraga, and Alou. None will likely see a major league at bat or inning pitched in 1999. Moderate risk-takers might have taken one of this trio as a speculative pick, but Klebold took all three. For someone who allegedly knew he wouldn’t be around in October, perhaps these were throwaway picks.

A scan of this offense shows a team that would likely have a strong batting average, but there is an odd dearth of power. Power has an almost universal allure, and is a vital commodity in a points-based league. In his 12-team mixed league, there should have been a wealth of HR sources, yet on this team, only Chipper Jones has a reasonable chance to hit 30 HRs.

In the CFBL, you must have four starting pitchers and two relievers active at any time. The Border Hoppers have a strong staff, but with only two pitching reserves – one of them Wohlers – there’s little room for mistake, or injury.

Not one Colorado Rockie in sight. In fact, his 1998 team roster was devoid of locals as well. A reflection of his hate for Denver?

Is it possible that Dylan Klebold was, unbeknownst to his fellow GMs, silently throwing his season?

Two days after the draft, the Border Hoppers released Andres Galarraga. A week later they signed Russ Davis and George Lombard. A week before Opening Day, Klebold dropped J.T. Snow and signed Mariners pitcher Freddy Garcia. On April 11, he placed Rolando Arrojo on reserve and activated Garcia. That was the final move for the Border Hoppers.

In the CFBL, transactions can be made every day, and rarely a day goes by when some team isn’t making a move. On April 19, the Salty Squirts picked up Jose Mesa. Then the trannie wire went quiet.

For four days.

On Saturday, April 24, the CFBL awoke from its solemn still with a flurry of moves. Two days later, the Border Hoppers, sans manager, lost their first game of the year.

While the rest of the world agonizes about what could have triggered the massacre in Littleton, a group of 11 high schoolers continues to play out the game.

And in the end, the fantasy baseball season moves on.

In Littleton, Colorado, perhaps it is the only reality left to take refuge in.

(The last remains of this article I can find are here; bless you miss e-c.)

Some additional tidbits of info;

- Dylan wanted Chris Hooker to hand over Mark McGwire, but had no luck.

- This is the same Chris Hooker who wanted to convince Dylan to join the Navy, to which Dylan responded “Who cares about Kosovo, that’s their problem”.

- He lost out on Roger Clemens for a second year which sparked a playful rant.

- He semi jokingly offered to tutor Chad Laughlin for his final math exam, in exchange for not having to pay the $30 entrance fee to the league.

- Dylan and his brother were very fond of the baseball movie “The Natural” and knew all the parts by heart.

- He had posters of Lou Gehrig, Roger Clemens, Randy Johnson on his wall.

[morganaawriterr]

Late Night Dancing; Nishimura Riki

SYNOPSIS ➺ You find yourself staring at the ceiling and recalling the cute memories you have of your old best friend, now boyfriend, Ni-ki. He soon catches you red-handed and begs you to do an activity that shouldnt be done in the am.

REQUEST ➺ For this cutie @enhayaya! Her bundle was: Tiger's eye (Ni-ki). The lovers (Best friends to lovers). Rainwater and lavender (Human). Suggestive.

WARNINGS ➺ A bit Suggestive; Very cute; Kissing, Ni-ki is cutie pie :)

Check out "Enchanted Corner" to see the original post with the waiting list since the event is over!

Being with Ni-ki is incredible. Since he is a loverboy, so you guys always end up doing romantic and crazy things together. Both of you love the feeling of freedom and the taste of each other’s lips, so nothing else matters in this world.

You can still remember how it was to be his best friend, comforting and safe. But now, you have all of that with boyfriend privileges, like kissing. As you concentrate your eyes on the top of your boyfriend’s bedroom, the memories of all the crazy things that you guys have done pass in your eyes like a movie.

You could listen to his laughter in your mind, so vivid and delighted. In slow motion, you saw Ni-ki running on the warm sand of the beach, his oreo hair shifting gradually in front of his eyes and his lips opening wide to a welcoming smile.

“Why are you giggling at the ceiling?” Ni-ki’s voice interrupts your movie time. You peek at him, admiring his rosy cheeks and your plump lips.

“I can’t sleep.” Your answer, slowly moving to your side to face him.

“Hmm, what can we do about it?” The boy by your side smirks and stretches his body, only to put one of his naked legs on top of your half-naked body.

“I dunno.” You pout, observing him.

Besides being sweet and caring, Riki is also a tease, and he will take advantage of every moment he can to tease you. So, his lips quickly come in contact with your neck. He starts to leave short pecks all over it because he knows you are ticklish, and he loves to hear your laugh.

“I had this crazy idea…” He whispers against your skin, hot breath on your skin.

“Oh really?” You inquire him, eyes locked on his. Ni-ki’s fingertips travel to your face, caressing your warm cheek.

“Can we dance?” Riki asks with his eyes locked deeply in yours, as if this were the most natural thing to ask in the middle of the night.

“Now?” You ask him, and he nods.

You explode in laughter. Your eyes closed shut, and your lips curling upwards, he can't possibly be serious.

“I’m serious. I want to dance with you…” Ni-ki answers sassily and then pretends to be mad at you, his eyebrows arched and a sad pout resting on his pretty lips.

You don’t answer him, just pause to watch what he is going to do next. The tall boy gets up from the bed and walks towards his radio and synchronizes it with his phone.

As “One Life” from Justin Bieber starts playing, you find yourself laughing again. Riki is only wearing a white T-shirt and black boxers. His hair is somehow perfectly fine, and a lazy smirk is placed on his lips.

“Are you joining me?” He asks, his pointing finger telling you to get over to his side.

With a seductive look in your face, you get up and walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his chest.

As both of you danced calmly to the music, the time appeared to fly out of the window, the full moon twinkling brightly in the sky.

Ri-ki takes your hand and you spin, your hair moving slowly and the large t-shirt you’re wearing getting lifted, showing your black thongs and glorious thighs that Ri-ki gets lost in, oftentimes.

Of course, your boyfriend has his eyes on you all the all-time, admiring you and thanking God that you are his. You end up curled against his chest again, a proud smile placed on your lips as you inhale his intoxicating cologne.

“You’re so beautiful.” Ni-ki compliments you as his hands secure your midsection. You keep your head high and your eyes on his.

“I love you… Thank you for everything…” Your cheeks are red by the time you finish those words, and Riki is lost in your cuteness.

“I love you, too, Princess. And you’re welcome.” Riki whispers before his lips find yours, while his hands get lost under your white t-shirt.

Author's Note: This was so cute to write!! I hope you liked it!! As always, thank you so much for all the love, reblogs are always appreciated! Masterlist

Taglist: @mrsjjongstby @kawaiichu32 @maewphoria @tunafishyfishylike @deluluscenarios @firstclassjaylee @rjssierjrie @reibelhearts @pshfan0812

If you wanna be added or removed from the taglist just comment below!

[mameeta]

So...why am I not seeing more Spirk<=====>Jayvik comparisons on here?

I am nowhere near as knowledgeable as others on here, but I am going to take a crack at it and if someone else can go deeper tag me because I would love to read it.

Ok we got the reserved scientist (Spock and Viktor), who are low key outcasts due to the nature of their birth (Viktor was born sickly and a cripple and Spock is half human). They are both undeniably brilliant and gained entry into institutions that typically would not have allowed them entry (Viktor is from Zaun and Spock is the first Non-human (He is half human, half Vulcan with the appearance of being Vulcan) to be admitted into Star Fleet (Tapol was not a student of Star Fleet Academy but was their for its inception).

Then we have two charismatic, hard working, brilliant men who are smarter than people give them credit for and both have reputations for being himbos that is actually unearned lol. And both are amazing engineers (Kirk was specialized in engineering before going on the command track, someone correct me if I am wrong, like I stated earlier I am not an expert.) These two, while having other obligations, would like nothing more then to hang out with their science buddy. They would also go to extremes to save their science soulmate.

Like intergrate a dangerous magical item into their body to save their life. Or complete a coup to ensure that nothing and no one sends in the way of finding a cure.

Or going through hell and high water to find their science buddy soulmate after a near death (actual death) incident and bring them home. Or blow up the very ship they commanded together to ensure that nothing and no one would get in the way of him finding his friend.

And both were thoughtful enough to bring a blanket to cover their naked friends body.

Ok that's what I got. Any other takers?

[ririright]

“Soft, Silly, and Safe: Hayden’s Childlike Side”

Husband! Hayden x Wife Reader (Headcannons)

‪‪❤︎‬ He’s a big, clingy cuddle bug.

He’ll flop onto you like a human blanket, completely dead weight.

“I’m tired. Carry me.”

“Hayden, you’re six feet tall.”

“Love has no height limit.”

He’ll nuzzle his face into your neck, mumbling nonsense until he falls asleep.

‪‪❤︎‬ He pouts when he doesn’t get his way.

Full-on lip jutted out, arms crossed, dramatic sighs.

“I thought we were getting chocolate cake, not fruit pie.”

“We can get cake tomorrow.”

“But I’m craving it nowww.”

He’ll sneak a bite of whatever you’re eating just to be stubborn.

‪‪❤︎‬ He’s got zero patience when he’s excited.

When you say you got him a gift, he’s hovering.

“What is it? Can I guess? Give me a hint. Wait, you’re giving it to me now, right?”

He’ll cover his eyes with his hands but peek through his fingers.

‪‪❤︎‬ He steals snacks off your plate even when he has his own.

Especially if it’s chocolate or something sweet.

“Hayden, you literally have the same thing on your plate.”

“Yeah, but yours tastes better. It’s the love seasoning.”

He has no shame, especially if it’s dessert.

‪‪❤︎‬ He gets super dramatic when he’s sick.

“It’s over for me. Remember me as I was—strong, noble, devastatingly handsome.”

Buries himself under a mountain of blankets, sticks his foot out to be a thermometer test.

“My time has come. Tell the ducks I love them.”

But if you baby him even a little? He melts. “Can you stay with me? Just till I fall asleep?”

‪‪❤︎‬ He loves being the little spoon.

He’ll nudge you with his back until you wrap around him.

“Big spoon me. Please?”

He sighs like you’re his personal weighted blanket.

“I feel so safe.” (Instantly knocks out.)

‪‪❤︎‬ He has a sweet tooth and zero self-control.

You’ll find empty candy wrappers hidden in his coat pockets.

“Did you eat the last of the cookies?”

“No?” (dusts the crumbs off his flannel.)

If you bake, he’s in the kitchen every five minutes like a curious child.

“Are they done yet?” “What if I test one?” “Quality control, babe.”

‪‪❤︎‬ He gets bored easily and needs your attention.

If you’re busy, he’ll hover around you, dropping heavy hints.

“Wow, wish I had someone to watch a movie with.”

“Wouldn’t it be crazy if someone just tackled me onto the couch right now?”

If you ignore him, he gets even more dramatic. “I guess I’ll just… wander the fields alone. Reflect on life.”

‪‪❤︎‬ He’s ridiculously competitive with silly games.

You play Mario Kart? He’s leaning into the turns, tongue out in concentration.

“Take that, Toad!” (You are Toad.)

If he wins, he’s immediately gloating.

“Oh? Is that the sweet taste of victory?!”

If he loses, he’s sulking and demands a rematch.

‪‪❤︎‬ He talks in silly voices to make you laugh.

Full Yoda impression: “Hugs, I require. Deny me not, you must.”

He’ll narrate your life like David Attenborough: “Observe: the majestic Y/N in her natural habitat…”

If you laugh, he gets even more into it. He loves making you giggle.

‪‪❤︎‬ He absolutely melts if you baby him even a little.

Runs to you immediately if he gets a tiny cut.

“I need a kiss. It won’t heal otherwise.”

When you ruffle his hair, he leans into it like a happy puppy.

If you make him a plate of food, he’s beaming.

“I’m so lucky. So loved.”

‪‪❤︎‬ He throws fake tantrums when you won’t give him attention.

Flops face-down on the couch. “Well, I guess I’ll just die here. Alone.”

If you try to step over him, he grabs your ankle. “No, stay. Pay attention to me.”

When you finally give in, he grins.

“I knew you loved me.”

‪‪❤︎‬ He asks you the most random, kid-like questions.

“Do you think the ducks like me the most? Or am I their second favorite?”

“Would you still love me if I was an Ewok?”

“If you had to fight one chicken-sized Anakin Skywalker or ten Anakin-sized chickens, which would you choose?”

And he needs serious answers.

‪‪❤︎‬ He’s incredibly clingy when sleepy.

If you try to get out of bed in the morning, his arms immediately snake around you.

“Nope. You’re my teddy bear now.”

If you wriggle free, he groans and pouts.

“Fine. But I’ll remember this betrayal.” (He’ll forget in five minutes.)

‪‪❤︎‬ If he wins a game, he’s immediately showing off.

“Did you see that? Total domination.”

Does a victory dance that looks like a cross between a jig and a toddler’s bounce.

If he loses, he’s sulking.

“You’re too good. It’s not fair. I was distracted. The wind was in my eyes.”

[cacospirit]

Emmrich reads Thirst Tweets

Emmrich: Hello, I'm professor Emmrich Volkarin and today I am joining the LADBible to read Thirsty Tweets

*intro plays*

Emmrich: All right then shall we? Let's get to it... "I think if Emmrich sat me down to talk to me about life-work balance while giving me praise that would fix me"

Emmrich: I think we all can do with a bit of that, now and then. Not because we are broken, but because we are human. The human condition is not something that can be so easily 'fixed' in a one and done sort of manner, rather it requires constant maintenance in form of love and support that we should all strive to provide for each other

Emmrich: Next we have... "Hey Emmrich you're supposed to be a bone expert but I haven't seen you live up to the name. I think you need to demonstrate, preferably on me. Please and thank you"

Emmrich: Ah, a cheeky bit of double entendre going on here, in a quite polite way as well, If I may say so. I suppose common courtesy isn't entirely lost in this digital medium. I would be amiss to not point out that necromancy is not only the study of bones. They are, of course, the vessel, that much is true. But it is what the vessel contains that truly matters, the spirit, the soul. That's what makes necromancy so unendingly captivating, for me at least.

Emmrich: This one, quite succinctly, states "Who is the daddiest of daddies and why is it Emmrich"

Emmrich: A question and its answer, all wrapped up in one. That's certainly a time efficient way to get your point across. I'm not fully confident that I live up to that kind of apotheotic superlative but I could certainly aspire to. The qualities we associate with a paternal figure can of course feel very comforting even as we reach adulthood, and I'd undoubtedly see it as an achievement if I could provide that, especially to Manfred and my students.

Emmrich: And here we have..."Emmrich could throw me into a volcano, resurrect me, and then throw me into the same volcano again and I'd still spend eternity singing his praise in the afterlife"

Emmrich: Oh... we got a bit of... violent imagery going on here. Certainly not unheard of in romantic prose. After all, what is longing if not aching of the heart? Being taken from a loved one can often feel like a dagger to the heart, and quite often I think we feel like we'd rather take the dagger. There... might be a bit confusion here about the nature of necromancy. We can not 'resurrect people' as such, as a spirit is brought to animate a body some may claim, myself included, that the past soul has imprinted in a way on the mortal vessel, but it's not the same person. But... a very passionate proclamation we got here, that is for certain. Not that there's anything awry with that, after all, does not every proclamation of love feel like shouting from the rooftops? We might as well say it with our chest any of the times we are given the opportunity

Emmrich: So, let's see, our next inquirer has as much to say as... "Day 465 of trying to find out if Emmrich has used blood magic to turn me into his se[BLEEP] slave or if my brain is just spaghetti from gooning too hard"

Emmrich: that's... uhm, there is certainly much to unpack here. So... 465 days? That's.... quite a long time for sure, nevertheless.... uhm, yes. Blood magic, I think it's important to recognize that no mage is every truly safe from the allure of its promise of near limitless influence and power. Although... typically it's less often found in necromancers since our usual subjects don't possess blood. I don't practice blood magic, not only because of the deeply unethical aspects of its execution but also... I believe the best way to spread influence is through knowledge, not by some arcane force of hand. So I guess this troubled individual is more inclined to find the explanation of... brain, turned into spaghetti? To hold true here. I suppose at times a state of cognitive disarray can very much feel like our heads contain nothing but a sloppy mess of tangled up thoughts. And... gooning? Goon, like a lackey? Well... in moments of reverence it's certainly easy to get consumed by but one singular thought.

Emmrich: With that out of the way... lets move on to the next one, let's see... "Hey Emmrich how is the lichdom coming along? I could sure use a lich as a dom"

Emmrich: Well... a rather clever rearrangement of words here. Achieving lichdom is not about dominance, regardless of... what the name might imply, if you read it with a certain type of bias anyways. In many ways it's the opposite, becoming a lich is about wanting to protect against the type of forces that seek to achieve... dominance. Not saying that it would be inherently undoable or unethical to have that kind of consensual agreement with a lich, but... it's also certainly not something that follows the title.

Emmrich: Oh, this one looks nice: "Many look at Emmrich and say that sexy does not have an expiration date..." I'd be inclined to agree with that! The nature of human attraction cannot easily be confined as narrowly as our usual societal standards often suggest "...but since there is no way to know for sure I think Emmrich should f[BLEEP]k me raw as soon as possible while we still have time"

Emmrich: well... I.... uhm, there's probably... I don't think there is a need for haste at this very moment. While it is true that we should seize any moment to live our lives to the fullest I don't think... this, is necessarily the logical endpoint of that line of reasoning. But... they do provide some semblance of logical reasoning here, which is of course commendable.

Emmrich: Oh, that was the last one? Well then, we have done what we came here to do. We have read all of the thirst tweets that you have put out there on the internet

Muffled voice off screen: these are just a few that we picked out, there are a lot more than this

Emmrich: Oh there's more? Well, maybe we could say that we have read most of them at least

Muffled voice off screen: well, some of them

Emmrich: some of them let's just say some of them. Thank you to LADBible for having and thank you all aspiring writers for these literary tid bits. This has been thirst tweets

[ghoulishautism]

YES I finally get to talk about this!!

Its funny because those two were my original ideas (because Danny being space and Sam being life makes sense on paper)

But when I actually started looking more into the classes, I really could not justify giving them either since I realized they didnt fit as neatly as I wished? So let me try to break down my thought process:

Danny, the Mage of Time:

Strong association with Death

Mages understand their aspect, including both the positives and negatives-- Mages are also thought to suffer from their aspect in one way pr another

Thanks to stuff like TUE, we know that Danny has a lot of anxiety over his future-- and on a less serious note, he seems to struggle with time management in general as evidence in multiple episodes. Theres ALSO the aspect of him constantly going through repetitive routines and having to constantly balance between his human life and his half-ghost hero life. And the idea that he could never truly go back to normalcy, even if he were to give up his ghost half.

Thinking about the canon Time players we have such as Dave and Aradia, who tend to be more laid back (at least on the outside).

Bonus fact that a lot of people really like the headcanon/fanon of Clockwork being a mentor to Danny.

Sam, the Heir of Space:

Space players are associated with Creation (fashion, art, and yes-- even tending to plants believe it or not) and Frogs (which are a required element of SBURB to ensure the creation of the universe)

Sam is always hard to pin down because the show doesn't go too deep into her characterization, BUT from what little we can infer; she is a very creative person- indulging in many crafts such as fashion and music.

Space players also tend to see the bigger picture, which in turn can cause them to paint things in broad strokes and fail to see the proper nuance (with how Sam herself often sees things as very black n white- and its her way or the highway). She's very in-tune with what she thinks is right

I chose heir specifically (not only because I dont like recycling canon god tiers and instead like to explore ones we havent seen) because Sam's self expression is at the core who she truly is. Its really hard to separate that from her. She's someone who will constantly jump on the new train (if she decides it isn't too mainstream) just to prove how 'ahead' she is of everyone else.

Unlike most Space players, she's very impatient (which is something she'd have to overcome), but she also loves sharing her ideas with others, even if they too are too stubborn to give her ideas a chance (ie, the new vegan menu at school she forced upon everyone).

Are these absolutely perfect? No, but it was the best I could really do given the tools at my disposal. I think I'm pretty proud of what I came up with and I think they fit the very story I want to tell.

Heart and Life would also make sense for them too in a way, but I didnt feel like Danny exhibited enough Heart traits for that to stick-- and Life is more about the natural order of things and waiting for things to grown into their own rather than direct action (which doesn't feel like Sam to me).

We also just tend to know more about Space and Time considering they're one of the more important aspects of the sburb mechanics.

Decided that I wanted to re-learn the Homestuck Styles as a potential commission type, I might do a few more of these to practice/be sane so uh...You can drop a request in my inbox and I might do it

These will be tagged as "PhantomStuck" if you wish to block it

[hamliet]

Mind if I ask you a Dostoevsky question? I was wondering why Alyosha never talks to Smerdyakov. Other characters look down on Pavel because he's a servant or they're put off by his ~bad vibes~ but Alyosha usually helps people even if they're unpleasant or lower class iirc, so it seems unusual that he just ignores him. The one significant interaction they have (that I can think of) is when Alyosha spies on him and Marya, which I always took to be Alyosha being interested about Pavel's personal life/surprised to see him talking (relatively) normally with a friend.

Also, if Alyosha had been able to help/get through to Smerdyakov, it might've averted the whole tragedy, but do you think he'd be able to? It's hard to dislike Alyosha, but Pavel's a pretty dedicated hater.

Also also, thanks for your analyses, here and in general! I'd been meaning to get into Dostoyevsky for a while, but your posts were the push I needed to start reading!

Ah I'm so happy to hear this! I'm glad you're liking him.

So basically, I think the fact that Alyosha didn't reach out to Pavel is the precise point of the story. It's his flaw that even Alyosha, a compassionate and Christlike figure, is still human and subject to the tendency in human nature to go along with society rather than stand against it. Of course, in many ways Alyosha does stand against it... but not in this, and as a result of him ignoring his blood brother, the children suffer.

None of the brothers treat Pavel as a brother. He is, but their father acknowledges him just enough to give him the patronymic and house him but not enough to give him his name. Instead Pavel got an insult as a surname and serves his father who raped his mother, and the servant who raises him beat him.

Mitya, Ivan, and Alyosha have two different mothers among them too, so Dostoyevsky is emphasizing that this is not a blood thing. The brothers weren't really raised together either, so it's not a shared experience thing. So then, why aren't they accepting of Pavel?

The only real answer is that they adhered to social norms of the day regarding Pavel, and the result is that he treats them like they've treated him.

Mitya doesn’t really acknowledge Pavel at all, treating him exactly like their father treats him. He acts like Pavel doesn't count, so Pavel frames Mitya as if his life doesn't count.

Ivan comes to closet of all the brothers to acknowledging Pavel, but he really just uses Pavel as a receptacle for his ideals without any consideration of Pavel as a person much less a brother—so Pavel uses those ideals to justify his murder. 

But, Ivan does ask the pointed question: what of the children? Of course, the irony is that Ivan can ask about the neglected and abused children in theoretical debates with Alyosha, but he neglects to actually put any theory into action. Like. Ivan. Your brother. He's an abused child. Right there. Listening to you.

Alyosha doesn't interact with Pavel much at all, but neither does he treat him like a brother.

His mentor, Father Zosima, even comments that suicides (how Pavel died) should be the most pitied:

But woe to those who have slain themselves on earth, woe to the suicides! I believe that there can be none more miserable than they. They tell us that it is a sin to pray for them and outwardly the Church, as it were, renounces them, but in my secret heart I believe that we may pray even for them. Love can never be an offence to Christ. For such as those I have prayed inwardly all my life, I confess it, fathers and teachers, and even now I pray for them every day.

Zosima's lament is not just that people take their own lives--it's specifically that the Church casts them out. It's tragedy creating tragedy. And because Alyosha didn’t reach out to Pavel while he lived, he loses almost his entire family because of it. His father's murdered. Mitya's in prison. Ivan's consumed by guilt and "brain fever."

So is it fair to say that Alyosha created his own tragedy? Well, that seems a bit harsh. Yet at the same time, it is a theme in the novel that we are all responsible for each other. So it's fair to say that the tragedies are a natural consequences, but that's not saying he deserves it. In fact it's tragic because he doesn't.

Yet, there's hope. The tragedy and Alyosha's realization of it is why, thematically, the ending of the entire novel takes place at a child's funeral.

Keep in mind, the child who died, Ilyusha, was not a perfect child--in fact, he was noted to be spiteful and attacked other kids and even Alyosha. He was a victim of bullying and a rough family situation, and had a terminal illness (tuberculosis)--all of which Pavel also endures (except his is epilepsy). So basically, we're supposed to see Ilyusha as an earlier version of Pavel (and again, Pavel actually encourages Ilyusha in the novel to be cruel to animals, which he does).

Yet at the very least? Ilusha was loved by his family. Pavel didn't even have that. Ilyusha is also noted to be capable of intense kindness. Could that have been Pavel, if someone had tried to reach him?

At Ilyusha's funeral, Alyosha says the following:

Let us make a compact here, at Ilyusha’s stone, that we will never forget Ilyusha and one another. And whatever happens to us later in life, if we don’t meet for twenty years afterwards, let us always remember how we buried the poor boy at whom we once threw stones, do you remember, by the bridge? and afterwards we all grew so fond of him. He was a fine boy, a kind‐hearted, brave boy, he felt for his father’s honor and resented the cruel insult to him and stood up for him. And so in the first place, we will remember him, boys, all our lives. And even if we are occupied with most important things, if we attain to honor or fall into great misfortune—still let us remember how good it was once here, when we were all together, united by a good and kind feeling which made us, for the time we were loving that poor boy, better perhaps than we are. 

So what of Pavel? What of the children? Reach out to them. Even the ones who appear spiteful and cruel. Especially the ones who are unloved, because love is, as Alyosha himself says in the same speech at Ilyusha's funeral, even if it's just a memory:

If a man carries many such memories with him into life, he is safe to the end of his days, and if one has only one good memory left in one’s heart, even that may sometime be the means of saving us.

Maybe Alyosha reaching out would have prevented the tragedy. Maybe it wouldn't have. But you have to try for there to be hope of salvation.

[princess-pathetic-112898]

Yeah idk Chris if you didn’t want us to sympathize with him, maybe don’t make his motivations so deeply human and understandable? Maybe don’t have the guards drag him out of the castle & back out into the lethal blizzard he just trekked through while singing his little heart out? Especially when the main character just said everyone in the kingdom needed to be sheltered in the castle, confirming that she understands this to be a major threat to people’s immediate safety. Maybe don’t just have her stare on sadly while it happens like she can’t do anything at all for him when she is heir apparent to the throne and acting queen in this instance, therefore having literally all the power in this scenario. Those guards literally have to do whatever she says. Maybe don’t have her deem it worth the risk to send her love interest & several friends on an incredibly dangerous mission to rescue her parents, but somehow not worth the risk to save one of your loyal subjects who’s also a single father AND a community leader in your kingdom’s largest rural area, who’s also much closer by than your parents and therefore logistically a less hazardous rescue mission? Are only the royalty worthy of such a risk? Yes, it makes sense that she can’t immediately head over to solve the problem in the way that he’s asking her to but maybe don’t have her not even consider taking him in in the meantime or what he’s supposed to do in this immediate moment where an unprecedented natural disaster is going on? One that we also know is being manipulated by a powerful demon? Maybe don’t barely acknowledge what happened to him for multiple episodes after while the rest of the cast has filler adventures and then act like his loss of faith in the people he thought were his friends & the entire damn monarchy is so unreasonable on his part? Like, if any other beloved Disney hero, let alone one of the princesses, just kind of left a desperate 14 year old in this situation do you think it’d sit well with audiences? Ariel, Aladdin & Hercules all had spin-off cartoons too can you imagine if they’d been written like this all for the sake of a showrunner’s pettiness over the “wrong” character getting the fandom’s attention?

idk, chris sonnenburg. if you didn’t want your character to be adored by the fans, maybe don’t make him such a little goob.

look at ‘im.

also, maybe don’t make him one of the most compassionate people in the show who only wanted to make positive change for the people he cherished— *i am dragged off of my soapbox*

[asaedw]

I wrote this essay a year ago and...

WHY ITOSHI SAE IS THE BEST BOYFRIEND MATERIAL EVER.

Because of the large number of people in this world, there are many different perspectives and many opinions. Everyone has varying taste in men and everyone has a different point of view about what’s right and what’s wrong in a man. Lots of people want a man who can flirt, or has popularity and attention. Lots of girls want really tall men. But they would, unfortunately for their misfortune of a taste, be wrong. There is no other answer but ‘Sae Itoshi.’ In general, telling someone that their opinion is ‘wrong’ or ‘incorrect’ would be an uneducated way of dismissing someone’s point. But, when it comes to the topic of the best man alive, there is only one answer. That’s because this answer isn’t based on opinion but facts and logic. Anyone who opposes would be considered ‘illiterate’ by mentally sane people and emotionally stable people. The reasons why ‘Sae Itoshi’ is the best boyfriend to ever exist in the past, present and future are discussed in the following paragraphs.

First and foremost, there is no reason for an educated person to not acknowledge Sae’s talent. He is an incredibly skilled football/soccer player. He can put his whole heart into playing the game or not put his heart in at all, and he’d still win against eleven people alone. There is no doubt that his talent is the first thing that comes to mind when the name ‘Sae’ is spoken of. He has made history by being the greatest striker in Japan, referred to as ‘Japans prodigy’. There is no mistake in this title but the understatement. A more fitting nickname would be ‘Japans only hope’. Anyone who thinks any less of Sae Itoshi’s skill has never touched a book in their life.

But that’s not all that Sae has in store. There is a very important factor of Sae Itoshi that we mustn’t miss. That is his dedication skills. Sae is the type of man to not find himself interested in too many things. He’s not the type to have many hobbies. But when he does find himself passionate about something, he would dedicate his life to it. Imagine being loved by this guy! He would do any to everything for a person or thing he truly loves. That fact has been nothing but proven throughout Sae Itoshi’s public life on the Soccer field. Sae Itoshi tells it like it is, a brutally honest and blunt man. He does not appreciate a lie, and he wouldn’t lie over his dead body. Nor does he feel the need to pretend like he’s enjoying something he isn’t. In other words, an honest and straightforward character. This has been seen through his interviews where he would get up and leave whenever he wanted. It doesn’t matter to him if people will criticize him for being uncomfortable or so on, and leaving the interview.

Lots of people believe his behavior to be ‘rude’ or ‘arrogant’. Some even refer to him has ‘narcissistic’. The people throwing such terms at him do not realize what stoicism is. Sae is a man driven naturally to his own goals and ambitions. A man who is always trying to improve aspects of his personality and physique. To him, socializing and idle chit-chat is a waste of time and to him, time is something precious. Hence, his exit mid-convos. He has always been a hard-working man and that has only become a sharper trait of his personality as he grew. His god-like demeanor and his confidence makes him seem narcissistic. Although the term isn’t completely not-defining of him, it must be understood that this word is a term from a mental illness and diagnoses shouldn’t be thrown around. Not to mention that Sae is the type of man form whom being narcissistic is excusable. This is because of his many personality traits that make him more appreciateable than the average human of his age or older.

Now let’s talk about what the eye sees. What do you see when you look at Sae? If you said someone ‘unattractive’ even by the slightest, then you need glasses. Not just any, but make sure your glass is two to four times sharper then you need it to be. A young man with a jaw that cuts glass and eyes that pierce souls. A mysterious and reserved individual who has the charm of a prince and a god.  Usually, you would need to flirt with women or wink to catch their hearts. But this guy? He doesn’t need to do that. In fact, gathering women doesn’t even make it to his priority list. And yet, there are so many edits of him on the internet in which the comments are all like, ‘till my insides are out.’ Or, ’we ain’t stopping.’ Etc. In other words, he is a beautiful guy with aventurine marbles as eyeballs and knives as his eyes, sharp and sexy. And no, the haircut or bangs is not a valid reason to find him unattractive.

Have you heard this guy’s voice? If not, then I recommend that you get prepared and watch a video of him speaking. That deep and husky, growly and raspy voice of his. His voice could put my anxieties to rest but the same voice could drive one insane. His voice is the perfect real-voice of how book characters voices are described. Have you heard him speaking Spanish? I felt something dripping down my leg. And if you didn't, you are a liar.

Let’s talk about his success too while we’re at it. I mean, he’s nineteen(in 2025). But he’s already more successful than many people older than him. According to a fact, he currently owns two accounts. One account holds the Japanese Yen. Around a hundred million, which he has referred to as ‘a small amount of money’. In his dollar account, he owns up to almost a million dollars.

Let’s discuss his collectivity and stress management. In a relationship, dealing with situations and arguments in a calm manner is much more suited. Sae Itoshi has never been known to lose his temper and even if he were to so, he would let out his anger by doing one of his favorite things. He isn’t aggressive or abusive despite his cold nature. He seems to deal with every matter at hand with logic and pure conversation rather than anger or grudges. Or... just by not dealing with it at all. And that is something more important that you think. His morning routine consists of: opening the window to let in fresh air, taking a deep breath, morning yoga, meditation, drinking salted kombucha, and starting his day. That’s why he’s such a physically fit and mentally strong guy. (according to fact, duh.)

His passion and determination, his good looks and success, his drive for work and strengths, his mental and physical stability all combined into one man makes him the single (I hope to God) most perfect man to exist for a lady. I know many people still think he’s cold or to-be-avoided, but they are people who are forgetting that Sae is a gentle and nice guy when he loves someone. And they are also snowflakes. If he’s rude to you, you’re doing something stupid or wrong. He cannot be wrong or ‘misjudging’. And anyone who thinks he can are people who have never been treated nicely. It’s more than obvious that he’s a nice and respectful man with a girl he would love. You just need to be loveable in his eyes. Therefore, I conclude this essay. Kiss my ass if you disagree.

[bebsi-cola]

okay so like. i think there's a perception of disability as something that happens to you. the presumed basic form of a person is always abled, and disabilities are things that went awry. like they're a modifier. it's especially easy to think like this if you or the disabled people you know all have acquired disabilities and can clearly delineate the you who existed or would exist without disability. this isn't like. a bad thing in of itself. but it's an issue if you forget that many people are born disabled. it's not and never was a separate aspect of themselves. people with congenital conditions were born disabled. not everyone has a separate abled version of themselves. which we have to remember in order to challenge the notion that the basic form of a person is abled. it isn't. people grow up and navigate the world with various disabilities or differences. people with limb differences, people with sensory disabilities, little people, people with chromosomal conditions. and so on. these (and other things i didn't include) are natural forms of the human body. maybe some people are quite happy to be disabled because they've never been anything else. maybe it's as normal and unremarkable as having curly hair. maybe disability is not inherently painful or some sort of inevitable decline (like so many people love to comment) like. that doesn't mean these people aren't disabled but i think idk if you are disabled but don't know anything or anyone who was born disabled i think you're probably missing a huge part of our wider community somehow

[shrine-of-the-theoi]

Miasma- A Deviation from Devotion.

Key:-

spiritual or moral defilement

translation: "pollution" or "stain"

deeply ingrained in both Greek philosophical and religious thought with the implementations ranging from individual guilt to contamination of entire families or cities.

a contagious power that has a life of its own and clogs the mind, diverting it from devotion.

from Oedipus Rex- plague is a result of religious pollution and that God Apollo requests the people of Thebes to exile the previously unknown miasma- a sense of moral noxious pollution. [1]

.°. Miasma isn't just physical dirt but spiritual and moral contamination. Acts of violence particularly murder we're considered a major source of miasma but it could also arise from transgression against divine law or even the Gods themselves, hubris, and intended disruption to social norms and causing disbalance to the natural order of the cosmos. It can also be summed up as emotions such as hatred, rage, anguish, disrespect, arrogance or anything that clouds one's judgement causing dehumanisation. [2]

Now, apart from this, bodily fluids are miasmic. Now I had to undergo a HUGE LOAD of research as to why are these excretions miasmic. And I think what I found isn't a solid definite doctrine but much of a logical explanation. However, I won't be discussing about the cleansing of miasma in much detail here. [3]

We maybe aware that Hellenism doesn't have a set of definitive rules or doctrines as is the case for Abrahamic religions. Therefore there isn't much from which infos can be gathered. Also Hellenism is free from the concept of "sin" as is prevalent in Christianity (no offence intended). And to incur the wrath of the Gods is actually a rarity well unless ofc one has committed grave crimes like murder or SA or any kind of violence that is harmful for the society. That and in other cases hubris, are situations in which the Gods will be actually angry and the person then may have to face miasma resulting from heavenly wrath which we can term as Agos- extreme case of moral corruption. [4]

Therefore we can come to the conclusion from this that miasma isn't something which has been rebuked by the Gods because it's a single, but it is something which tends to clog our sound mind and deviate us from the path of devotion. The Gods are aware that in a lifetime of a human, one is bound to accumulate miasma because we're not perfect like Them. And that is why They do not condemn it as a "sin". [5]

Miasma that arises from mourning/ grieving

Think of this as visiting the hospital (unless ofc it's your daily profession cuz NO the Gods don't consider that as miasmic cuz well, first- a person's livelihood is something which is to be held in high regards and the Gods are understanding and won't mix up professional lives of their devotees with the intention and devotion that lies within them. Second, there is a hole line of Gods associated with healing so nope hospital personnel aren't miasmic). Anyways, coming back, in a hospital when we visit maybe some near and dear, our minds are torn between worries for the future and wellbeing of our loved ones. We might at times feel helpless or hopeless - THIS ....this feeling of hopelessness, melancholy or grieving is the miasma. So does that mean we shouldn't pray to the Gods for the wellbeing of our family and relatives? No. Absolutely not! ONE. CAN. PRAY. DESPITE. THE. CIRCUMSTANCES. Because the Gods are equally ears to the prayers of a person in hospital as well as the one in a shrine. [6]

Now say suppose you come back from the hospital. General instinct is, to wash your hands and feet and change into fresh clothes to avoid getting any sort of infection. It's all a matter of cleanliness. Ofc a nurse who's changed the diapers of an elderly patient or a baby, won't go about worshipping Lord Apollo with unwashed hands. Remember, whatever brings an "ew" from within yourself, isn't definitely how you should be approaching the Gods. So won't the nurse have to change their clothes? No!! BECAUSE. THE. GODS. UNDERSTAND. [7]

Same is the case for graveyard miasma. Now for this, I'll resort to what witchcraft has taught me. We, leave a bit of our presence everywhere we go. Suppose one visits the grave of a loved one. Ofc the person mourns their loss. On their way back, some residual energy still remains. That's the Miasma of the graveyard which often clings to us AND no matter what anyone says, anyone who visits the graveyard, be it to visit or just without a reason is BOUND to feel a subtle melancholy from being present their. Better to cleanse to remove this SPIRITUAL miasma. Scientifically, you SHOULD wash your hands and all after visiting cemetery or a graveyard. [8]

Now you may come across the fact that mourning the loss of someone is miasmic. And yes it is. For this I'd draw reference from the 5th paragraph of this post. When mourning, it is obvious that what goes through our minds are memories and moments spent with the late member/ pet. Ofc our mind isn't in the place to pray. By and by as we're a bit stabilised out of the grieving, we maybe/ may not splash some water on our faces to drown the tears. And gradually console ourselves AND THEN pray to the Gods for their safe after life. This I'll say this again- MIASMA IS SOMETHING WHICH DEVIATES OUR MIND FROM THE GODS. [9]

Miasma- the dirt.

Think of it like you being a host of your guests at your house. Say suppose you're working in your garden and your guests arrive. What do you do first? You get in, wash your hands and offer them refreshments. Now another day say suppose you're stacking the dried dishes on the wrack and some relative stops by. First instinct tells us to offer them the refreshments. Its just about cleanliness. When you feel like maybe some dust or something has actually made your hands dirty or soiled and from within you feel like it's better not to pray or give offerings to the Gods, listen to yourself then. [10]

How are bodily fluids miasmic?

Let's say, we're in an urgent need to pee/poop. As soon as we find a restroom, we rush in and relieve ourselves. Ofc at that moment, the Gods aren't the primary thoughts in our brain but a rather huff of contentment. Secondly, imagine not washing your hands after that but proceeding to pop a chicken nuggets in. Disgusting, right? So if it is disgusting for us humans, why would it EVER be okay to worship the Gods like that. Please wash your hands then. [11]

Next, let's say we trip on a pebble and fall, a result of which, our elbow is scratches and bruised and it burns as well. What do we do? We get some water and wash the blood and dirt off and wait for it to heal. Here the blood but rather the PAIN is miasmic cuz when in pain, majority of our consciousness is focused solely on the PAIN no matter how much "Oh Gods" we spell. That is way we wait for the blood to stop and in a deeper sense, for the pain to fade a little before we can pray for the wound to heal. [12]

Next, childbirth. Yes that's miasmic. Then again the reason is the same. PAIN which keeps a lot of the woman's conscious focus to itself. Believe it, a few days after childbirth, a mother looks and feels like she's been through havoc. And not in the physical, emotional or any condition to be offering to the Gods. But does that mean a mother of two days can't pray to the Gods for the wellbeing of herself and her child? NO!! OFC NOT!! Provided she has the strength to pray and feel the grace of the Gods, which, without saying is always present on each one of us. [13]

Now now, the big issue- menstruation. In ancient Greece, men were scared to shit because who even stays alive after bleeding for seven days straight. That's the result they considered the very natural phenomenon as miasmic and a disruption of order of natural law. Today, I'd say miasma of menstruation lies in the excruciating pain that is felt. Nothing else. It's simply the pain and as someone who has to deal with it for two days straight every month, I don't even feel like opening my eyes and come back to my senses, let alone praying. [14]

Lastly, is sex miasmic? Yes it is ...cuz...the couple would rather prefer basking in the afterglow rather than praying and also... WHY WILL ONE PRAY TO A GOD WITH UNWASHED HANDS AFTER THE ORDEAL? IT'S DISGUSTING. Thirdly, you'll ofc want to bring Lady Aphrodite in this scenario cuz of obvious reasons and so I'll tell you for the love of my Lady. You can dedicate the immediate feeling of pleasure to the lady provided that's what you're associating Her with. But please don't stay under the miscommunication that it's okay to make offerings or praying without a clean up session. [15]

So what about animal sacrifice?

It was considered a part of Xenia in Hellenism. Red meat in ancient Greece was available to the rich and sophisticated. So ofc these sacrifices were made by a selected section of the society. Now if suppose you're someone sophisticated and decide to do the act in a shrine, by doing so you're actually letting the ones who can't afford red meat, get their hands on it. So that's community service and not miasmic. BUT THAT DOESN'T PROMOTE INTENTIONAL ANIMAL SLAUGHTER OR MALICE TOWARDS INNOCENT ANIMALS. [16]

Are tears miasmic?

Well sometimes it is. Sometimes not. See crying to Gods can't be miasmic in any sense. We can cry in the embrace of Gods. But that should be purely to take the pain off. Crying and then wishing bad to the cause which hurt us- that is miasmic. Similarly when we're extremely elated and happy and feel like crying to the Gods and thank them- that's not miasmic. But say suppose while worshipping, somewhere in your mind, you go like "Damn I must tell (some person) real quick" that's miasmic. Ofc the Gods won't be mad if you cry your eyes and hearts out to them. [17]

Yes we can worship the Gods in cars, trains, buses, on the bed before going to sleep provided we're completely and utterly pulled to it. On the bed, let's say we're praying to Lord Hypnos for a peaceful sleep and Lady Athena for a good day ahead when we wake up but in the back of the mind, we're worried about pending assignments, how many hours of sleep well actually get, or are in a rush to sleep. That's not how it works. We can ofc pray to the Gods in a car or train but if at the back of our mind we're occupied with thoughts which keeps tugging at us while we pray- that's miasmic. Deviation from devotion is the actual miasma and it has always been. It clouds our judgement, clogs our sane mind, imbibes hubris, holds us back from embracing the grace of Gods on an extreme level. [18]

And this is where I've ended my research on miasma. Hope this post helps anyone who's looking up on the topic. Thanks to Lady Athena and Lord Hermes for helping me dig up infos and related my understanding with the facts. May Lord Hypnos now bless all of us with a peaceful rest. Khaire. All credits to the sources where I've stumbled across the facts and infos. [19]