even though it's all black and white

gaming antics [m]

summary: taeyong has been too distracted by his games lately so you decide to snap him out of it.

pairing: gamer!taeyong & reader insert

includes: smut (fingering, penetration, facial, oral)

wc: 6k

note: Im back! :’) With a new fic about my babe, Taeyong. Haha. I hope you guys like it!


Taeyong had always been an avid gamer.

He would spend hours on end smashing his thumbs all over the game controller while spitting curses to his frustrated friends through a small headset. Those hours sometimes ran into an entire day, and maybe he skipped out on catching a few winks of sleep—to put it short, he was in love with gaming. Since your friendship began with Taeyong you had known how much of a hardcore gamer he was—gaming was how the two of you bonded, so his love for the hobby never really bothered you to begin with.

Not until you started to date him a couple of months ago. He attempted to change his habits and shape himself into a decent boyfriend who could go on multiple dates with you whether they are small breakfast meetups or quick coffee runs. Those lasted for a good while, but he reverted to his original self soon afterwards, almost like the lively dates with you are not as fun as the silly shooter games he spends his life on. He reverted back to the game invested Taeyong—the one that spends more time staring at a flashing screen, furiously pressing on the loose buttons of his controler, than looking at his girlfriend.

You always attempted to talk to him while he took those short breaks. Usually he spent a good five to ten minutes getting water or catching a breath of fresh air outside, but he typically shrugged you off. This time you were going to take a different approach—a very distracting approach.

Keep reading

What is Dark up to?

(In case you didn’t know, some Darky shit happened in Mark’s video Don’t Play This Game)

2:49- The first shifty thing that happens in Mark’s video. Mark says “What happens if I quit the game?” Reality bends, and we hear that creaking that we heard when we first saw Dark again back in February. 

4:43- Mark wrote down what the game was saying and is saying it along with it. Again, we hear the creaking and we see as the facecam zooms in, loses its color, flips, and multiplies. Mark’s voice layers and distorts, eventually becoming so distorted we can’t understand it. There is no center voice that sounds like Mark at all. It’s all Dark.

6:04- Mark says “Bye, bye” as he always does, and he waves at the camera. But as he’s smiling, that 3D effect shows up again. The black and white background with blue and red. Even though it’s Mark, Dark is still there distorting reality, because that’s what he does.

But this shit right here is what got me:

Every time Mark says this, he looks straight at the camera, as if talking to us. But it’s not Mark, is it? That’s not how Mark speaks. He isn’t monotone like that. Distorted reality, layered voice, and that piercing ringing sound are all Dark. So do we understand Dark? 

Let’s be honest, Dark knows we don’t understand. He knows that we have no clue what’s going on and that we’re scrambling to make sense of it. And maybe he wants us to understand. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe our confusion makes us easier to control. The more confused we are, the more we theorize, and the more attention he gets.

So, my dear Dark, what are you up to?

(and let’s not forget that Mark was a little shit when he tweeted this)

(Screenshot via booperplier)

His game. Thanks, Mark, for breaking the fandom again.

Distorted Thinking of the Mercury Signs
  • Aries Mercury: The Fortuneteller error (predicting a certain outcome and already treating it as fact)
  • Taurus Mercury: Tradition bias (thinking that that which is old, established, or has tradition is automatically superior or safer)
  • Gemini Mercury: Labeling (putting everything into clearly defined categories, as if life was a lab experiment)
  • Cancer Mercury: Emotional Reasoning (concluding that emotions are reality, that the way you feel reflects the truth of a situation)
  • Leo Mercury: Personalization (interpreting everything as a reaction to or opinion about you, taking opinions personally)
  • Virgo Mercury: Filtering (taking out negative details and magnifying them)
  • Libra Mercury: Fallacy of Fairness (making sure that everything is 'fair and even', even though it's not that logical or fair in a particular situation)
  • Scorpio Mercury: Polarizing (only black and white, good or bad, perfection or failure, no middle ground, all or nothing thinking)
  • Sagittarius Mercury: Overgeneralization (coming to a general conclusion based on a single incident and preaching it without sufficient factual evidence)
  • Capricorn Mercury: "Should" Statements (holding on to dogmas/rules of how things or people should/ought to be, rather than seeing how they are)
  • Aquarius Mercury: Anti tradition bias (thinking that that which is old, established, or has tradition is automatically inferior or outdated)
  • Pisces Mercury: Heaven's Reward fallacy (expecting all your sacrifice and self-denial to pay off, as if somebody was keeping score)

Hey guys, I thought it would be fun to make myself a set of Inktober Prompts based on Unsolved! Feel free to participate with me! I’m gonna be using traditional methods to complete this challenge, but you can also do it digitally!

I’ll use the hashtags #Unsolved Inktober 2017 and #cctinsley inktober 2017 so if you also do this challenge then use these hashtags so I can also see your artwork!

I think the only rules I’m setting for myself this year are:

  • Each drawing must relate to Buzzfeed Unsolved in some way
  • Try to do a drawing a day, even if its just a 5 minute doodle!
  • You can use colours other than black and white! For example, Prompt 24 is Red so you can colour in!
  • Most of all, have fun! This is all about improvement and taking part in a fun challenge!

I did Inktober last year, and even though I completed it, all of the drawings were a complete flop. I hope this year goes better! Good luck! 

(Also, excuse my awful Photoshop attempt lmao)

This just in.  We have now taken a break from posturing over “racist Americans” to complain about black people being portrayed as fictional Italians. Not the other non-white members of the cast who aren’t black, no just the black people.   You know, we never actually fight to represent black Italians and have a terrible reputation on how we treat black people in general, but this backlash is totally in good faith.  It is totally racebending, which only works in America because there’s such a booming black population that’s respected and represented and…oh wait, there isn’t any of that.  We could go back to watching the majority of all media (in Italy OR America, even though the show isn’t filmed in Italy and wasn’t formed for an Italian audience) where white people are the majority and all Italian representation has pretty much been white (no matter what the ethnicity of the actor actually is)  We won’t complain about white Italians taking roles from PoC but we take issue with colorblind casting for a Shakespeare play because the very implication that we have *black people* in our culture would be culturally insensitive.  . 

 Black people weren’t invented till the 1960s.  You can’t adapt Shakespearean works with black people in the main cast unless they’re servants or something because black people didn’t exist in fictionalized Verona.  Clearly adapting it with white people is fine though, no matter where they come from.  Black Italians don’t exist and have never existed, we’re all light skinned until its time to justify whitewashing.  And even though this is a fictionalized story written by someone who has never lived in Italy and was never meant to be historically accurate, we now must all be armchair historians because black people are on screen.  Oh, apparently Othello was a white man all along. And don’t bring up those prominent black and mixed race Italians (because accuracy is only accurate if its supporting racism), because they don’t count anyways and just because we had black Italians doesn’t mean we had black Italians (logic!).   Please don’t steal this *valuable* representation from people who never once cared about Shakespeare as representation of any ethnic group *any* other time. 

Oh this isn’t backlash against a show showing black people in prominent positions in a European fantasy, no its totally about historical accuracy (where we erase most of actual history because that’s the only way we can pretend there were were no black people where black people were…) 

Its just culturally insensitive to cast black people in Still Star-Crossed

How The Systemic Segregation Of Schools Is Maintained By ‘Individual Choices’

Sixty-three years after the Supreme Court’s Brown v. Board of Education ruling mandated the desegregation of American schools, many schools across the country either remain segregated or have re-segregated.

Journalist Nikole Hannah-Jones tells Fresh Air’s Terry Gross that when it comes to school segregation, separate is never truly equal.

“There’s never been a moment in the history of this country where black people who have been isolated from white people have gotten the same resources,” Hannah-Jones says. “They often don’t have the same level of instruction. They often don’t have strong principals. They often don’t have the same technology.”

Still, when it was time for Hannah-Jones’ daughter, Najya, to attend kindergarten, the journalist chose the public school near their home in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, even though its students were almost all poor and black or Latino. Hannah-Jones later wrote about that decision in The New York Times Magazine.

For Hannah-Jones, sending Najya to the neighborhood school was a moral issue. “It is important to understand that the inequality we see, school segregation, is both structural, it is systemic, but it’s also upheld by individual choices,” she says. “As long as individual parents continue to make choices that only benefit their own children … we’re not going to see a change.”

Hannah-Jones adds that her daughter is thriving at school. “I know she’s learning a lot,” she says. “I think it is making her a good citizen. … It is teaching her that children who have less resources than her are not any less intelligent than her or not any less worthy than her.”

Illustration: Michelle Kondrich for NPR

anonymous asked:

Hey Mods, quick question. What are your thoughts on AfroPunk? Do you think it celebrates being not like other African Americans? I follow this popular blogger and they're kind of denouncing it and calling it a place to show aesthetics and saying it's not really for Black People.

Hi,
Okay, I’ve never been to Afro Punk but I’ve seen photos, seen videos, and heard good reports across the board. It generally has my support because I haven’t heard anything negative about it. {can you submit the post you’re talking about maybe it’s saying something important i don’t know about the festival?}

I’d love to go someday (I just need to brush up on my Afro-Rock/Metal/alternative)!! As for saying it’s not for Black People.. that’s weird because it definitely is a place that was created for just for Black People.

Oh, and if we’re going to be specific, Black Punks (hence the name Afro PUNK lmao it’s not called Afro Country or Afro Hip Hop & RnB). All I had to do was a quick google search after getting your ask to look up its history and I definitely support it even more. Though to get a large audience it has turned to soul music and other genres that reflect African American music, but it still has Punk as its heart.

So I mean… I’m not sure what other main aesthetic would be there except for Black Punk, Punk, and Alternative style?Just given its history…

Long story short: It was started as a way for Black Punks to build a strong community because Punk™ is a white dominated sub culture. Which I think is great, because Black People aren’t monolith. We enjoy a large variety of things since we are a large variety of people. There is no correct way to be Black. If you’re Black then you’re Black if you love country music, if you love death metal, if you love hip hop & trap.

Being upset over people dressing a certain way to a MUSIC FESTIVAL of all things aka an aesthetic playground that reflects the genre of music that is being showcased seems like a waste of stress.

- Susie

I ask any Christian to help in spreading this info

Currently the name of Christ and his disciples are in the midst of being slandered by most media coverage in the western world today. The lastest of these is the new game from one of the worlds largest video game publishers Ubisoft, in their new title Far Cry 5.

Brief synopsis: Far Cry 5 is taking place in a area called “Hope County”, a small town in Montana that’s being taken over by crazy cultists. Why does this involve Christianity? Because Ubisoft thought it would be cute to make these cultists Christian.

Boom: right there, John 1:4. And not only have they defaced Christian scripture by doing this, notice that cross? Thats a bastardized Catholic cross. Which, as more popular posts has seemed to have tried to link this to Nazism:

I can only dare to ask, do these same people bash any on any other culture of religion that uses the swastika? Do they bash Hindus?

Or Buddhists?

No, they don’t. So why is it all of a sudden okay for them to take the Catholic Cross and call it a Nazi logo, and not the actual Nazi logo its self?

Twitter and Tumblr users all round seem oh so happy to kill “rednecks” and “christian” all them same though too.

Now, you might be saying: “Hmm these people seem to be talking about Neo-Nazi’s, not Christianity?”

Well, if these people had even bothered to watch the trailer, you’d learn that the cult in the game is the farthest thing from neo-nazis, in fact, much of their membership is diverse: Here are some actual screen caps from the trailer:

Here’s some BLACK members of this cult taking a WHITE women to be drowned in a river

And here are some more black individuals being part of the cult. The point I’m getting at here is that these people were not excited about this game kill nazis, they were excited to kill Christians. All they saw were Christian themes and they got the desire to kill, kill, kill, regardless of race. They are only calling them neo-nazis to help publicly justify their desire.

This is only more proof of the anti-Christian sentiment in modern media today. If this had been any other faith, Ubisoft would be facing huge backlash, but because its Christianity, its okay.

So please fellow Christians, re-blog this to spread awareness. And at the very least, re-blog to expose this hypocrisy and blatant creation of false racial tensions.

  • <p> <b>What I say:</b> I'm fine<p/><b>What I mean:</b> Lucretia is an incredibly complex character just like every other character in TAZ and while her actions weren't good or right, they were carried out with good intentions and were, from her perspective, the best solution for her friends and for the world. Even though she knew that taking the decision out of her friends' hands was unfair, she truly believed she was helping them and the world by doing so. She is, as all people, capable of mistakes and has made morally ambiguous decisions and it's incredibly irritating to see any part of the fandom either demonizing her or calling her an innocent pure baby. People are almost never 100% good or evil and im tired of tumblr treating everything as a black-and-white issue when in reality almost nothing is<p/></p>

anonymous asked:

How about cat boy Shiro & shance?

It got away from me….
————————————-
Lance yawned as he opened to door to his house, tired after a full day of work. Allura was a slave driver, having him work the clearance floor of the fashion building. There had been a huge sale today, customers having flooded the shop and nearly cleaning it out, and not all of them were nice to him.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, shutting the door behind him. After getting changed into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt, he flopped on the couch, shutting his eyes. He got about what felt like ten minutes of blessed sleep before a crash and a yowl of pain woke him up, the lanky 25 year old man bolting upright in surprise. He got up and looked at the clock. What the fuck? Who was even awake at 4am?

With a groan, he got up and decided to investigate the sound. He shrugged on a light jacket and stepped out onto the porch, bare feet cold against the concrete. He glanced around and walked over to where a soft whimpering was coming from, the alleyway with all the trash cans.

“Hello?” He called, padding inside the alleyway, hand against the wall of his house. His eyes caught a hunched shape next to the dumpster, something big with a twitching tail and curled in on itself. Oh.

Now that he was closer, he could see it was a Hybrid, creatures that were a common pet in this city. This one was a Cat Hybrid, with long, messy and dirty black hair and ears and a white forelock and a white tipped black tail. It was making soft, pained sounds, gripping at its right arm.

“Here kitty kitty, what’s wrong?” Lance crooned, attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible. Which wasn’t hard, he could see the muscles through the tattered shirt on the Cat Hybrid’s body, even though it looked very malnourished. He walked a little closer, trying to recall everything Hunk had told him about Cat Hybrids since the big guy worked at a shelter for all kinds of Hybrids, like Keith, a mixed breed of a Cat and a Wolf Hybrid.

The Hybrid’s head shot up, staring at him with wide, panicked silver eyes that were admittedly quite pretty. Now that he could see its face, Lance could tell the Cat Hybrid was male, and hurt too by the bloody cut across his nose. The Hybrid growled warningly, ears flattened back and tail puffed up in fear.

Lance held up his hands, palms outwards, staying calm like Hunk had taught him when handling scared Hybrids. “Woah there, Kitty, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m just trying to help. Can you let me do that?” He soothed, focus entirely on the terrified Hybrid.

The growling paused for a moment, wavering, and an almost curious look flashed through those gray eyes before being replaced with more caution. Lance took a small step forward, encouraged.

“You don’t look too good there, Kitty. Want me to get you some food and a bandage for that cut on your pretty face?” He cooed, shuffling a little closer and crouching low to appear smaller, less dangerous. The Hybrid’s ears flicked, indecision flickering across his face. Lance was now close enough to reach forward with one hand, carefully.

The Hybrid leaned forward, uncurling a little to sniff at Lance’s fingers, before cautiously turning his cheek against the Cuban man’s palm before pulling back a little with a soft whine. Lance smiled gently, keeping his teeth hidden, and ran his hand over the Hybrid’s hair and ears, a small purr startling both males.

Lance spoke up again. “Hey, let’s get you into my place so we can fix you up, okay?” The Hybrid blinked, confused, but allowed Lance to pull him up and suddenly Lance had to reevaluate this because the Cat Hybrid was taller than him by a head and a lot wider than skinny little Twig Lance. Not to mention heavy! For someone so emaciated, he sure packed a lot of weight!

Lance carefully led the Cat Hybrid out of the alleyway and into his house, shutting the door quietly and tugging him into the bathroom. “Okay, I know cats hate water, but we need to get you washed and cleaned before we bandage you up.” Lance explained to the startled Cat, who was staring at his reflection in the mirror with something akin to horror.

Lance filled the bathtub with hot but not scalding soapy water, and guided the Hybrid in. The water seemed to relax the dirty kitty, and Lance easily pulled off the ragged and soon to be burned old shirt and boxers the Hybrid had been wearing, finally able to assess the damages.

The Cat was covered in old scars and new injuries, like he’d been in a fighting ring. His right arm was missing, obviously recently because the stump hadn’t healed completely and was an angry reddish purple, blotchy and clearly infected. The poor Cat was going to need a Vet, and Lance hoped Hunk would cover this. But first he had to do what he could to help, since he’d never been one to turn down a creature in need.

He set to work, using safe shampoos and soaps to clean the dirt and blood away, having to drain and refill the tub several times until the water stayed mostly clear and bubbly. The Cat Hybrid flinched with every wound wiped down, but seemed to recognize that Lance was helping him and didn’t fight back. Lance hummed to fill the silence, a soothing Spanish lullaby his Mama loved singing.

Once he finished, he rinsed the Cat one last time before leaving to grab some overly large clothes that would probably fit the huge Hybrid, which he was guessing was of the Maine Coon variety. He came back and drained the tub, tugging the relaxed kitty out and drying him off, bandaging every wound with a bandaid or gauze before helping him into soft, clean clothes that actually fit the Cat just right, if not only slightly tight.

“Okay, just a haircut and then some food, sound good?” Lance soothed, sitting the other male on the closed toilet and holding up a pair of scissors and a hair razor. The Cat eyed the items warily, but merely made a soft noise of agreement before letting his eyes fall shut.

Lance pulled a towel over the Cat’s neck and shoulders, before setting to work snipping the long, tangled black locks of hair. He shaved away the worst of it, giving the Hybrid an undercut and leaving the top alone, trimming around the ears to a short, fluffy length and even grooming the ears and tail to get rid of the matting. The white forelock was left a little longer than the rest, since Lance found it kind of cute.

He cleared away the mess and once again tugged the Cat Hybrid by the wrist along with him to the kitchen, the poor kitty making a soft mew, a wordless question. “Food then! You look pretty hungry, kitty, and I think I still have a package of turkey somewhere.” Lance clarified, gesturing for the Hybrid to sit on the couch while he entered the kitchen to rummage around his fridge.

He came back to see the Cat Hybrid looking around curiously, tail flicking and ears up, which was definitely a good sign if he was showing interest in his surroundings. Lance gave himself a mental high five and cleared his throat lightly, gathering the kitty cat’s attention. He held up the package of turkey and had to stop himself from giggling at the way the Hybrid’s eyes lit up and ears perked, staring at the wrapped meat hungrily. His stomach let out a demanding growl too, and Lance definitely laughed then.

“Haha, okay, here you go then.” Lance chuckled, opening the plastic package and unwrapping the seal around the meat, plopping it back into the container and handing it to the Cat Hybrid.

While the cat scarfed down the meat, Lance dug his phone out of his jacket.

He had a few calls to make.
——————————–
This….. got waaaaaaaayyy out of control…… it was supposed to be a small fluffy fic and I turned it into some angst? And yes, Shiro is the nameless Hybrid. I don’t suppose you’d want more, maybe? I mean I wouldn’t mind making more? Gah- I need to stop making all these AU’S, my brain is out of control ;0;
Hope you enjoyed!

(edit- here’s chapter 2- https://tokyoteddywolf.tumblr.com/post/161255787588/companions-au-chapter-2 )

okay this dream occurs every few years or so. i walk from my house, all the way to the middle of the desert to get to this cool ass water park (im with my family, but not my real family. its like a dream family and they’re all white even though im black) but when i get there, it’s a fucking dive bar and i cry myself awake.

C: Sometimes I feel like I’m not black enough. Like I don’t fit in with other black people. I know this is a silly thing to think at a time like this where there are so many ways to be black, because there is not one way to be black, I know this. Yet I still feel inadequate. I’ve been called an Oreo and been told I act white a lot while growing up, and it hurt every time. Sometimes while hanging out with friends I would over exaggerate my “whiteness” in a joking way to try and play my correct grammar and stuff of as a front or a joke. Its not like I don’t use slang and all but usually only around family, usually outside the home I snap into “proper mode.” I have only ever felt like I fit in with my black friends in high school, which I just graduated from. They never said anything about the way I spoke or acted, except for one time when a friend said I listened to “white people music”. In the 11th and 12th grade I went to a different school and even though I still had black friends, some of them I felt were only my friends because we shared a class together. I know now a days there is no specific way to be black, you just be yourself and that IS your black identity. I just hope in college I can make strong lasting friendships with other black people.

4

CEREMONIAL magic is the ancient art of invoking and controlling spirits by a scientific application of certain formulæ. A magician, enveloped in sanctified vestments and carrying a wand inscribed with hieroglyphic figures, could by the power vested in certain words and symbols control the invisible inhabitants of the elements and of the astral world. While the elaborate ceremonial magic of antiquity was not necessarily evil, there arose from its perversion several false schools of sorcery, or black magic.

Egypt, a great center of learning and the birthplace of many arts and sciences, furnished an ideal environment for transcendental experimentation. Here the black magicians of Atlantis continued to exercise their superhuman powers until they had completely undermined and corrupted the morals of the primitive Mysteries. By establishing a sacerdotal caste they usurped the position formerly occupied by the initiates, and seized the reins of spiritual government. Thus black magic dictated the state religion and paralyzed the intellectual and spiritual activities of the individual by demanding his complete and unhesitating acquiescence in the dogma formulated by the priestcraft. The Pharaoh became a puppet in the hands of the Scarlet Council–a committee of arch-sorcerers elevated to power by the priesthood.

These sorcerers then began the systematic destruction of all keys to the ancient wisdom, so that none might have access to the knowledge necessary to reach adeptship without first becoming one of their order. They mutilated the rituals of the Mysteries while professing to preserve them, so that even though the neophyte passed through the degrees he could not secure the knowledge to which he was entitled. Idolatry was introduced by encouraging the worship of the images which in the beginning the wise had erected solely as symbols for study and meditation. False interpretations were given to the emblems and figures of the Mysteries, and elaborate theologies were created to confuse the minds of their devotees. The masses, deprived of their birthright of understanding and groveling in ignorance, eventually became the abject slaves of the spiritual impostors. Superstition universally prevailed and the black magicians completely dominated national affairs, with the result that humanity still suffers from the sophistries of the priestcrafts of Atlantis and Egypt.

Fully convinced that their Scriptures sanctioned it, numerous mediæval Qabbalists devoted their lives to the practice of ceremonial magic. The transcendentalism of the Qabbalists is founded upon the ancient and magical formula of King Solomon, who has long been considered by the Qabbalists as the prince of ceremonial magicians.

Among the Qabbalists of the Middle Ages were a great number of black magicians who strayed from the noble concepts of the Sepher Yetzirah and became enmeshed in demonism and witchcraft. They sought to substitute magic mirrors, consecrated daggers, and circles spread around posts of coffin nails, for the living of that virtuous life which, without the assistance of complicated rituals or submundane creatures, unfailingly brings man to the state of true individual completion.

Those who sought to control elemental spirits through ceremonial magic did so largely with the hope of securing from the invisible worlds either rare knowledge or supernatural power. The little red demon of Napoleon Bonaparte and the infamous oracular heads of de Medici are examples of the disastrous results of permitting elemental beings to dictate the course of human procedure. While the learned and godlike dæmon of Socrates seems to have been an exception, this really proves that the intellectual and moral status of the magician has much to do with the type of elemental he is capable of invoking. But even the dæmon of Socrates deserted the philosopher when the sentence of death was passed.

Transcendentalism and all forms of phenomenalistic magic are but blind alleys–outgrowths of Atlantean sorcery; and those who forsake the straight path of philosophy to wander therein almost invariably fall victims to their imprudence. Man, incapable of controlling his own appetites, is not equal to the task of governing the fiery and tempestuous elemental spirits.

Some understanding of the intricate theory and practice of ceremonial magic may be derived from a brief consideration of its underlying premises.

First. The visible universe has an invisible counterpart, the higher planes of which are peopled by good and beautiful spirits; the lower planes, dark and foreboding, are the habitation of evil spirits and demons under the leadership of the Fallen Angel and his ten Princes.

Second. By means of the secret processes of ceremonial magic it is possible to contact these invisible creatures and gain their help in some human undertaking. Good spirits willingly lend their assistance to any worthy enterprise, but the evil spirits serve only those who live to pervert and destroy.

Third. It is possible to make contracts with spirits whereby the magician becomes for a stipulated time the master of an elemental being.

Fourth. True black magic is performed with the aid of a demoniacal spirit, who serves the sorcerer for the length of his earthly life, with the understanding that after death the magician shall become the servant of his own demon. For this reason a black magician will go to inconceivable ends to prolong his physical life, since there is nothing for him beyond the grave.

The most dangerous form of black magic is the scientific perversion of occult power for the gratification of personal desire. Its less complex and more universal form is human selfishness, for selfishness is the fundamental cause of all worldly evil. A man will barter his eternal soul for temporal power, and down through the ages a mysterious process has been evolved which actually enables him to make this exchange. In its various branches the black art includes nearly all forms of ceremonial magic, necromancy, witchcraft, sorcery, and vampirism. Under the same general heading are also included mesmerism and hypnotism, except when used solely for medical purposes, and even then there is an element of risk for all concerned.

Though the demonism of the Middle Ages seems to have disappeared, there is abundant evidence that in many forms of modern thought–especially the so-called “prosperity” psychology, “willpower-building” metaphysics, and systems of “high-pressure” salesmanship-The practice of magic–either white or black–depends upon the ability of the adept to control the universal life force–that which Eliphas Levi calls the great magical agent or the astral light. By the manipulation of this fluidic essence the phenomena of transcendentalism are produced. The famous hermaphroditic Goat of Mendes was a composite creature formulated to symbolize this astral light. It is identical with Baphomet the mystic pantheos of those disciples of ceremonial magic, the Templars, who probably obtained it from the Arabians.

Many a magician has lost his life as the result of opening a way whereby submundane creatures could become active participants in his affairs. When Eliphas Levi invoked the spirit of Apollonius of Tyana, what did he hope to accomplish? Is the gratification of curiosity a motive sufficient to warrant the devotion of an entire lifetime to a dangerous and unprofitable pursuit? If the living Apollonius refused to divulge his secrets to the profane, is there any probability that after death he would disclose them to the curious-minded? Levi himself did not dare to assert that the specter which appeared to him was actually the great philosopher, for Levi realized only too well the proclivity of elementals to impersonate those who have passed on. The majority of modern mediumistic apparitions are but elemental creatures masquerading through bodies composed of thought substance supplied by the very persons desiring to behold these wraiths of decarnate beings.

A well-known magician of the Middle Ages was Dr. Johannes Faustus, more commonly known as Dr. Faust. By a study of magical writings he was enabled to bind to his service an elemental who served him for many years in various capacities. Strange legends are told concerning the magical powers possessed by Dr. Faust. Upon one occasion the philosopher, being apparently in a playful mood, threw his mantle over a number of eggs in a market-woman’s basket, causing them to hatch instantly. At another time, having fallen overboard from a small boat, he was picked up and returned to the craft with his clothes still dry. But, like nearly all other magicians, Dr. Faust came at length to disaster; he was found one morning with a knife in his back, and it was commonly believed that his familiar spirit had murdered him. Although Goethe’s Dr. Faust is generally regarded as merely a fictional character, this old magician actually lived during the sixteenth century. Dr. Faust wrote a book describing his experiences with spirits, (Dr. Faust must not be confused with Johann Fust, the printer.)

Manly p hall secret teachings of all ages…

The Path of the Sun Keepers

Frater 440.’.
93 93/93

Fic: The Camouflaged Pupper

Title: The Camouflaged Pupper
Word Count: 1.4K
Rating: G
Summary: Dan, Phil, and a little black dog
Tags: Cute Doggo, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Author’s Note: Just a quick little something for @phancy-phandom, because she’s sweet and she wanted a fic about Dan and Phil getting a dog. Thank you to @agingphangirl and @inkyhowlter for some last-minute britpicking re: where UK folks might adopt stray dogs. (The RSPCA is the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.)


The Camouflaged Pupper

Dan had been planning a relaxing day of Mario Kart and leftover pizza. The weather was still a bit hot, but not hot enough to warrant turning on the air conditioning, so he planned to walk around in his pants and just avoid the world, and he wasn’t ashamed a bit.

But Phil obviously had other plans. He’d been sitting on the couch with his laptop, watching Cat’s video over and over again, making happy noises and constantly interrupting Dan’s Tumblr scrolling with comments like, “Sigma is so cute!” and “Remember how soft he was?” and “He was so wiggly!” and “Remember when he licked your face? Look how happy you were!”

Dan sighed every time Phil spoke or tried to get him to watch the video. “Yes, Phil.” He replied each time in a monotone. “The puppy was cute. I remember.”

Phil patted his shoulder excitedly. “We could go to the RSPCA today! Just to visit. Just to get some puppy time! I’m sure they have puppies. Wouldn’t it be nicer to pet actual puppies than just watching videos of them? Wasn’t it great getting to hold Sigma? We could do that today! Just … visit. Come on.” He was begging now.

Dan sighed more heavily. “You’re asking me to put on actual jeans? And get off the couch? And leave the house? Go outside?” He gave Phil his best put-upon expression. To be honest, cuddling some puppies sounded kind of fun, but he wasn’t going to give in that easily.

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anonymous asked:

Yesterday, I found an article about a white man saying the N word. On the comment section, I posted that it's inappropriate for white people saying the N word given its history. You'd expect people to believe the same thing, right? Wrong. I was down voted into oblivion, and even though I tried to reason with them, all the replies I received asked me why black people were allowed to say the N word but whites can't. I was mad initially, but now I just find the whole thing depressing.

anonymous asked:

what makes american witchcraft different than european witchcraft? is it just that your american?

This is another really good question, and one that deserves more than a five minute answer! 

The short answer is yes, American folk craft is very different than European folk craft. High/ceremonial magic is more similar between the two; there are still differences there, but they’re less pronounced. For the sake of speaking to what I know, I’ll just be talking about folk craft/”traditional” craft here. Read more after the cut:

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they were so sad and still had to perform and then post that note about them continuing as a four piece even though they weren’t even sure if that was true and then had to deal with h*r rebuttal as if it was really some spur of the moment decision even though it said november and they worked so hard despite their own label having 0 interest in them because all they wanted was some person with white skin who is relatable and can pop out shitty music with their shitty voice as long as it’s commercial and has just a pinch of mockery of black music from their artist who would chat an entire 40 minutes about their love for singer songwriters ! wow i can’t wait to be poor on august 25th when fifth harmony releases their first real album titled fifth harmony cowritten by fifth harmony

anonymous asked:

Hey so I've been noticing (and obviously you have been too) a lot of racist discourse in the Black Panther tags as well as a lot of potentially well meaning white folks trying to take over the discussion. So in the interest of trying not to talk over the black nerds who finally get their movie do you guys think it's better for me to confine my white girl screaming and gushing to the mcu tag rather than take up space in the Black Panther/Wakanda tags?

Maybe for the moment with everything that’s going on, but the problem, contrary to popular belief, is not white fans (period), IMO, it’s when white/nonblack/(and tbh some black fans too) feed into the racist patterns that elevate white characters above characters of color. Speaking for myself (Mod HQ), I don’t have a problem with white fans who don’t do that. There are white fans of Michonne, and Finn, and Iris, etc, and they’re real content-creating fans who aren’t doing it for cookies or “points” or attention. 

Black Panther is trickier, though, because unlike the others, it probably won’t feature any IR, so shipping IR in place of a Black couple will be a problem. I know that confuses the hell out of a lot of white fans, but the thing is, Black couples in non-niche (and BP isn’t niche, even with its Black cast) are rare, especially in genre. That, and erasing a canon Black person and fanon-ing in a white person is always bad. It’s bad whether the couple is IR or all Black. This, and the fact that I have no doubt the MCU fandom will find an all-white male ship to covet in BP, are two things I expect to be big issues when the movie comes out. 

It’s going to be a fandom dominated by blackness – and by that I mean not only fans but the characters. I personally don’t care if white fans participate as long as they respect that it’s Black dominated, and can be fans of those Black characters without making it about white characters one way or another. I’m sure that will sound police-y to some, but it would be really out of line for fandom to do that.

Mod HQ

anonymous asked:

Are you taking requests ? Because if so, you said you liked angst, and I looove angst. So, hum, could you write, maybe just headcanons you know, about Momo being like badly hurt and Todoroki's reactions, actions, anything ? Sorry if it's too much. Really sorry.

DON’T BE SORRY WHATTT, feel free to send me an ask like this anytime! I don’t bite HAHA plus I love todomomo so you’re doing me a favour! Oh my, getting excited before even starting (^  ^)

-When Momo got a head injury and was in a coma for a few days, Todoroki went to visit her throughout those times, unbeknownst to Kirishima who saw him at the hospital. Todoroki would just sit there in silence with a book in hand, hoping to keep her company. He brought flowers once as suggested by his sis.

-After many head-spinning choices, He picked fire lilies because it reminded him of her: elegant and sophisticated. Todoroki lamented afterwards, thinking about how the colour red reminded him of Endeavor.

-Momo never found out who brought the second bouquet of flowers when she came to. The lilies were falling apart, but the colour was still as lively as ever. The crimson ignited her awake. She just assumed they were all from her family though. Momo’s parents were curious, however, never bothering to pry any further.

-During their third year sports festival, Momo got to the semi-finals. Heart racing, her opponent’s name came bolded in white: Todoroki Shouto. She started off creating skates, fabricating anti-freeze chemicals out of the tips of her fingers, and even made blades to cut through the ice. The fire was the biggest challenge though. She had no way of dodging it without repercussions.

-He ended up searing her skin, all black and purple. He slammed his fist on the wall, vibrating it to its core after he watched helplessly as she was towed to the recovery room immediately. Midnight shook her head, wondering why they couldn’t have stopped him earlier. He felt like a monster.

-  “Todoroki, its not your fault…stop punching the…” “I thought I pushed past it, I really did. The fire…seeing her like that…I just…” “It was a competition, Yaoyorozu won’t blame you.” “I don’t care if she does. She’s in there because of me.”

-She was under immense pain but she never complained once. In fact, she was more worried about why he never came to see her when all of her friends did. She was hoping the first person she’d see would be him.

-He was secretly the one that made sure she had a full kettle of hot water beside her when she fell asleep; sometimes, he’d pull the blanket so she wouldn’t get cold.

-After sitting outside her room everyday since she was transferred to another facility, he finally realized how moronic he was.

      -”Yaoyorozu, sorry for not coming earlier-” “Can you look me in the eye, Todoroki-san? What are you afraid of?” “The scabs on your arms and neck. The pain that I must have inflicted on you. Knowing that my left is still as destructive as I remembered. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

-Momo leaned her head against him after she scolded him, of course, about how silly he’s being and he’s taken aback by how forgiving she was.

    -”Your fire is warm to me. So don’t dwell on it, Todoroki-san.”

-He took her out to a picnic after her recovery, and she asked for flowers as compensation.

-It’s fire lilies that he brought, yet again.

The Philippian Substance

My grandma rested on the plot of grass
In front of that smooth black granite,
A bouquet of white yarrow in her hand,
In all directions: corn,
Raspberries on the tree line,
And those white flowers in the ditches
On the side of the road.

A road where black goop filled the cracks
As though it could glue scars together
With its stick.
The heat of the summer
Would enrage the goop into little bubbles,
And the bubbles would burst and stick to everything.
Somehow, it even clung to the yarrow petals
Speckling my grandma’s stomach.

She was trying to teach me something,
And, like the black goop,
I don’t know what it was,
But it stuck to my hands, my feet, 
Left its residue for hours,
And clung to everything I touched.

She was trying to teach me something,
And maybe it never left 
- this black film
Sticky on my hands -
It’s still there,
Touching everything I touch.
I’ve just gotten used to it.