anonymous asked:

Is it bad that I'm not really into those "God Movies" (like Gods Not Dead)? I mean, I agree with the fundamentals of it I guess but i always felt that my beliefs were being marketed to me and it never really appealed to me much. I'm afraid to sound like some heretic for not liking it, and that goes for some Christian music too (i.e the pop rocky kind of stuff I always hear) sorrynits not really LGBT+ related, but I'd yet to hear another opinion of this.

Hey there! Honestly, I have never liked these movies either! The vast majority of them are poorly written and poorly executed with overly simplistic plots and characters. On an artistic level alone I find them to be hollow and made solely so that churches can take buses full of young people to the movies. And yes, many people around me were ardent fans of these films and took my disinterest and ultimately opposition to them as an indication of a ~ spiritual problem ~.

Apart from their quality, I also find them to be theologically flawed as well, often depicting a world in which those who are “saved” are immediately freed from their central problem or struggle, whatever that may be. They dishonestly depict the reality of the real world both theologically and in the characters: all atheists are bad, all Christians are good, and every institution outside of the church is out to destroy Christianity. These movies tend to paint Christians in the USA as a persecuted group when we are very much the privileged religion here, and thus these movies often also perpetuate harmful theologies that lead to prejudice, islamophobia, and oppression. 

The same goes for a lot of contemporary Christian music. From what I have heard, they seem shallow and insincere and contrived, built from a place of “God fixes everything if you just do your due diligence and pray.”

There are some outliers in both movies and music. Woodlawn is by far the best “Christian movie” I have ever seen, in part because it is based on historical events surrounding desegregation and does not shy away from the ugliness in people’s hearts.

A good “Christian” movie or musical group would allow space for doubt, for anger, for humanness rather than being “whitewashed tombs” of generalization, misinformation, and intolerance.

Here is a link that further breaks down why these movies are often just a no-go.

in my bedroom there are nine little slabs of wood (remnants of my old bunk) which now serve as a partition between myself & the ceiling. it is the damnedest thing: hours– days! have been lost to studying ceaseless swirls of tiny stalactites that drip from the roof; or could they have been constellations? capricorn has a doppelgänger in my ceiling, i’m sure of it. i haven’t looked in a long while, unfortunately.

i moved to the bottom bunk after an incident in which i fell five feet to the cool floor & no one came after me. i decided i would never again sleep so high up; i tossed my mattress to the trash-collectors & settled into my sister’s vacated four-poster. try as i might i couldn’t completely remove the framework from the top bunk, so above me are these nine plywood bars. i’ve thrown a pink coverlet over them for looks but also to protect me from cobwebs that threaten to fall into my mouth & choke me while i dream.

why should i dream, in a place like this? six paces to the dresser, six paces to the door. a closet large enough to shelve my body & little else. the window rusted shut; one hanging light. no acoustics. there are secrets in the mahogany under my feet, but i can’t follow them.

i still have the ladder to my old bed. it stands adjacent to the post, waiting to be re-installed. i could very well return to the cosmos by the middle of the month, but i’d have to prepare. i’ll make do with the nine bars for now; they are sometimes interesting to consider. i may even sketch them sometime. on a side note, i hope that the people in this house know i didn’t fall from the top on purpose.

// nine bars

Name Meanings!

Did you know that…

Erik - In Danish, it means ‘Powerful’. (How typical!!) And in Swedish, it means - ‘Forever Strong’ which I think is very fitting for him. But the best one is the Scandinavian meaning, which is ‘Ever Kingly’. If that doesn’t describe Erik more then I don’t know what does. 

Christine - Quite simply, ‘Follower of Christ’ which again, very fitting for our lovely girl who I believe must’ve been Catholic if her father was buried in a Catholic Cemetery? Correct me if I’m wrong! She did also believe in angels i mean come on guys… 


Nadir-  Apparently it means ‘Dearly loved’ in Arabic which is he is, by Erik, even if he doesn’t care to show it! 

once upon a time Jessica’s heart was an ISBN database listing all the Goosebumps books that would come out in the months following. People used her for when the Scholastic Book Fair came along. She was used so much her heart turned into an IMDB page. everyone got upset at her for turning children away from reading and to other media. Sometimes, though, at night she posts on facebook photo captions to photos that do not exist but wished they did. A lot of the captions are about photos of her re-enacting conversations she had in the shower to people she missed and all the conversations have better endings than what was originally said. Her dad loves them. Always there to like for each new one and post Minions emojis he bought. She loves her dad.

Jessica’s dad told her in a car drive that life is meaningless a lot of the times and sometimes it’s not. Like when you panic over someone you so deeply loved bring into the world a being you created together who you loved too. He then makes a joke about how it was Jessica’s brother and not her, but he says it with wrinkles and sly nudges and pokes. The wrinkles remind Jessica of plastic bags carried by the wind in a K-Mart parking lot.

the local K-Mart was a place where birds and people and plastic co-existed. In high school they would drive through the parking lot and scare the birds. Another time,  in the same parking lot, Jessica and her best friend ate burger king chicken fries while listening to someone play a song from their shitty car speakers loud and giggled at the lyrics.

The song went

If global warming doesn’t exist
please explain why club penguin is shutting down
i am so soft in this tuxedo and you have no idea how good it is
to sleep

Years later Jessica searched for that song desperately to send to her friend in facebook chat. Remember this? Those were good times. Song’s sad when u think about it now tho. she never found the song.

demonicmiracles  asked:

How do you create layouts for towns/villages without it being the typical rectangle shape?

Think about how the town came about. Think about how most towns come about. They don’t start as a metropolis. They typically grow along one or two main roads, or perhaps between a road and a water source. They can be shaped by rivers or cliff-sides, plateaus, or other land forms.

(My drawing tablet is on the other end of the house so excuse my laziness for not getting up to go get it and, thus, the crudeness of the following illustrations.)

If you’ve ever driven through a tiny little town that’s nestled on a highway, then you’ll notice that it sort of dwindles in and out on either side. A town starts out because the local people need a post office, groceries, a church, etc. Sometimes that’s all they ever need. Sometimes, people start moving in and from there, the town will grow.

Now, with a larger, expanding town, you’ll find yourself needing a power plant (that and other such industrial plants will be outside of town, most of the time), a hospital, schools, lots of houses. While developments will sometimes happen in rectangles, they don’t have to. And when you stick a bunch of rectangles together, the final product will often look nothing like a rectangle.

The growth will happen in waves, so development won’t always be one road at a time, they’ll add big parts in sections. But there will always be the edges of town that kind of fade away, whether because of shrinking or growing. 

(Sometimes, that old part that was the original town will remain untouched or will be preserved so that it’s always got that history thing.)

You can also google search “aerial views of small towns” and get an idea of how real-life towns are shaped. 

Also, and this might be a silly suggestion, but play SimCity. See what happens when you have to build a functioning town. It’ll help you brainstorm, at the very least!

Happy writing!

Writing and reading about modern fairy courts had me thinking of how they would return and what it would be like, as well as ancient prophecies and who and how can break them. I may or may not have an entire story already planned out (im so sorry one day i will finish at least one) but here is the beginning.

It had been a long time since the Fair Folk had openly walked the surface, and generations of people and countries had forgotten the rules. Some places remembered, where the old ways lingered longer, pooled in the creases of valleys. But most of the world had forgotten.

The old Queen had preferred secrets and shadows and whispers in the dark, happy to withdraw deep into the earth and ignore the humans above. Too many ventured down seeking wishes and blessings and so she sealed the doors to the Court and for centuries she had peace.

She was an ancient creature, for millennia her armor was impenetrable, her spells so carefully woven and tightly spoken that nothing, no edge of advantage could even begin to unravel her.

But on the surface the humans were changing, growing, building, learning. And one Lady, always looking for an opportinuty watched them.

The Good Neighbors had rules. Not just guidelines made of words held together on the hope that you would obey, but laws bound into the fabric of their existence.

They could not touch iron
They could not break a promise
They cannot go where they are not invited

And they could not lie.
But they twisted the truths so tangled together you never found the end. Which still wasn’t a lie, even if you were lead down the wrong thread, it broke no rules.

But humans had no rules. Fascinating creatures made entirely of chaos, unbound promises and brief bright lives.
The old Queen when she forged her prophecies before the dawn of their civilisation never considered them enough of a threat to protect against.
But they grow so fast.

It wasn’t hard to find one and fill their head with  knotted thread and not-promises, one who could be pushed to fit and slip between the gaps in prophecy.  Backed with borrowed magic.
The Old Queen fell.  

To kill a Queen is to become a Queen, and as the Fair Lady slipped the knife through her human’s fragile ribs she whispered that she made no promise to tell her the rules.

And no man or woman
None born of body or conceived in flesh
May harm me

This time, no humans could be used to depose a Queen.

jvoorhees1946  asked:

Say I wanted to build a world where the supernatural is apart of everyday life and accepted as just that, but also wanted to throw in some fantasy elements as well. What resources would you recommend?

It’s set in the 1880s, if that helps 

Hooohohohoho. Read Orson Scott Card’s Tales of Alvin Maker series. The first book is Seventh Son and there are seven books. They aren’t very long. I read Seventh Son as a part of a course I took in college and devoured the whole series in, like, eight days. I recommend that series to basically everyone, because even though Ender’s Game is awesome, it gets all the stinkin’ attention and no one pays attention to the other awesome stuff that Card wrote before he started getting weird and unabashedly racist and homophobic, which is really depressing. But that series is set on the American Frontier except everyone has magic. I loved it.

If you can’t find it in yourself to read any of his works, then I suggest searching for alt-history fantasy. There’s a lot out there. At a quick glance of the ol’ Google machine, I found Devil’s Tower by Mark Sumner, which is set soon after the Civil War. I haven’t read it, so I can’t say. I know that Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell is an magical alt-history that’s been sitting on my to-read list for TOO DAMN LONG. (I will get to it one of these days, officer, I swear.)

You can also read magic-oriented books where magic is common place, even if it’s not in your chosen setting, just to see how the authors handle the whole “magic is everyday and mundane” thing. Which…hey! is a trope. (Isn’t everything, though?) Search for the Mundane Fantastic trope and you might turn up some good stuff. 

I’m not 100% sure what you mean by “throw in some fantasy elements,” as that could be a whole array of things. Perhaps you could be a little more specific??

Here’s a link back to a post with questions to help you flesh out your magic system.

If any other followers have recommendations that might be helpful, please share! 

I feel like, for a trope that I love so well, I have very little to say about it (not counting all of the rambling I just did). 

Three heads are better than one(1)

You weren’t one for internet dating. There were all kinds of stories about creeps and freaks who could easily take advantage of someone going in with the purest of intentions after all. But your usual pick up spots had gotten pretty sparse lately, and enough time had past from your last break up for you to start putting yourself out there again. A new start, and the anonymity of the internet was an attractive lure.

You find yourself eventually talking to this rather cute sounding guy. A bit of a snob when it came to his hobbies, it’s true, but you had a bad habit of doing the same when discussing your favorite books, or arguing the merits of your movie collection. It was nice to come across a kindred spirit (Even if he was totally wrong about which House was better in the HP series).

But you noticed he was always pretty elusive when it came to describing himself. You knew he had two brothers that always seemed to hack his account (And if you were honest they were pretty cool to talk to until he kicked them out). You knew he worked in a library somewhere. You knew his favorite expression for annoyance was >Headbutts “item/person”<. But you didn’t actually know anything about what he looked like.

It was a tad worrying. You liked this guy and even his brothers. You didn’t want to have to be the asshole and start demanding at least a picture of himself. There were tons of reasons why he wouldn’t want to show his face after all, some good, some bad… You just had to take a chance…

But then his brother managed to sneak back onto his account (And really, if there was anything you would suggest to work on it was his passwords), giving you a time and a place to meet up. It was what you had been waiting for, a chance to finally see this guy eye to eye.

You hope he was cute.

Arriving at the small bar his brother suggested, you ended up waiting… and waiting… And waiting… Finally deciding he was a no show and without a message of explanation, you get up to leave, only to hear your name called by a hesitant voice…

You turn around and he was… Certainly… Noticeable. Built like a brick outhouse, taller by you by at least a foot, maybe a foot and a half if he stopped slouching, loose leather jacket that, surprisingly, sent a tingle over your body and where did that come from? And those wire frame glasses were just… Cute seemed like an understatement.
Oh. And he had white fur. Hourglass eyes. Curved horns. And attached onto a body with a smirking lion’s head in the middle and a sleepy looking reptile on the other side.

You had heard about the Preternatural races of course, but this was your first time seeing one. And you’ve been apparently flirting with one for months.
At least now his reluctance to show himself on screen was more understandable.

Slowly, you hold out your hand and try to hide your nerves with a smile as you introduce yourself.
“It’s good to finally meet you.”

He has a firm grip. He could easily crush every bone in your hand without effort. But his shy, almost scared smile can’t help but make him look adorable as his siblings exchange a pleased smirk behind his head.
You chuckle a little awkwardly and gesture to a nearby chair as you sit back down.

After all, you deserve it to both of you (Four of you?) to at least give this a chance…

sad poetry is subjective.

another body, sweat, morning kissing,
these are the lucky ones, the ones in love.
the uncomfortable ones sharing a bed too small for them,
they reek. they reek of happiness.

this is a large portion of life, the life that is romanticized.
sharing coffee and taking photographs,
laughing on weekend mornings and hungover from weekday nights.
happiness is the repetition that is happiness with someone else. 

their soulmate, their heart breaker, their new lover.
another body, sweat, morning kissing.


She told me the only time it would ever be appropriate was New Years Eve, that any other time it simply wouldn’t work. It didn’t fit with the rest of the witchy wardrobe she’d built up over the years, a collection of blacks and reds, lace and temptation. This thing was something almost entirely foreign, and yet she’d fallen in love with it, gold and sequined, cut in a way that I was convinced must have been tailored to her every curve.

Patience was never something that came natural to me, childish excitement would mix with anxiety like some basement-made pipe bomb of emotion. Surely, I tried to convince her, it couldn’t hurt to try it on, right? Just a peek would do. It wasn’t that I wanted a model, it was more akin to wonderment. I wanted to see her in everything, convinced down to my core that there wasn’t a piece of clothing she couldn’t improve just by draping it over her body. She’d tell me all the time that she was anything but perfect, but she was looking in with biased eyes.

The chips in the polish on her nails, almost always some dark color. The crooked beam of her grin. The lion’s mane of hair that could go from pin straight to mid-80’s Sunset Strip concert at a moments notice. A stray scar here or there, a cigarette burn she’d always managed to keep concealed. Perfectly imprecise eyeliner wings. It all merged into this astounding incandescence, a full fucking galaxy condensed into one tiny human being.

Somehow I made it to New Years Eve without combusting. The dress sat in the back of my mind and the back of her closet, champagne and fireworks rolled into something snug and low-cut, earmarked for new beginnings. Trying to be the man she deserved, I ended up on the job instead of at the party. Grinding out money from the man, the only thing I could think about was missing her in that dress, missing out on the champagne-fizz kiss, missing out on her in the first minutes of the new year. When midnight hit, my phone buzzed in my pocket, my own little reminder of the ball dropping.

She’d sent a picture message, doing her best to hide the loneliness in her eyes, her dress a somber blue. I told myself that next year, even if I had to work double-shifts every night for months, even if I had to crawl the distance over broken glass, I’d see that dress, and I’d get that kiss.


Quotes from Books I Read in 2017
↳ [1/?] The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

” He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature. ”

This is a funny piece for @billsydoestuff@noahtheprincessking , and all my friends who have been dealing with me freaking out recently, and probably some more in the future.

“Well. I was right.” The new recruit said from the head of the table, arms crossed, and a smug look on his face, “I told you this would happen. I said this would happen right from the beginning, I knew.”

“You didn’t know jack shit.” I burst out from where I stood looking over the strategy map from the middle of the table. We had been caught, we had barely made it out from the building we snuck into. By some miracle we hadn’t lost anyone, but we had come damn close to it. That was not something I was willing to repeat, and the asshole jabbering away was not helping me to focus on saving our asses.

“I did though! I said it wasn’t going to work! You said that this was our plan and I said it was going to crash and burn, but you didn’t ask me how it could be improved. So I didn’t say anything since it appeared you had everything under control. Apparently I was wrong.” As he powered through his speech he started looking less like a pouting child and more like a smug hero.

I glanced around the table and noticed there was not a single person who was taking him seriously. He was a fresh recruit not even through all of his training yet, who had only gotten to go on the mission because we desperately needed an extra person and he had the highest scores out of all the noobs.

“Fine then, my strategy teacher always says—” Condescension; if there was anything I could not handle it was condescension.

“First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, fuck you. Third of all, I don’t give a fuck. Fourth of all, go fuck yourself.” I stalked around the table to get in his face. I will be the first to say that sometimes bringing in new ideas from the recruits was not terrible, sometimes the untrained ideas were clever, but this guy was just being an asshole in thinking he was the second coming because we got desperate. “You don’t get a say in what goes on in this room, you are untrained and undisciplined, you wouldn’t have gone on our mission had our usual person not been on maternity leave. It would have been great for you to have said something before we all almost got killed, but unfortunately your golden engraved invitation won’t be hand delivered due to budget cuts. So maybe next time you can use your words instead of being star struck and tongue tied. I am so glad that you are now so comfortable in sharing your opinion, but keep it to yourself as we are going to be digressing out of your training.”

I was in his face. I wasn’t yelling, but my voice was pitched just right and each word was hissed out shortly that I was sure he wanted to disappear on the spot. He was quiet until I was back at my spot in front of the map, a safe distance away.

“I was just going to say that you should have gotten in through the sewer and then moved through the building through the air vents.” He spoke like he was stating the most obvious thing in the world. Part of me couldn’t help but to think him a coward for waiting until I was so far away before continuing to speak, the other part of me thought he was an even bigger idiot than I originally thought.

“Travel through the vents, huh? Just like in the movies, is that right?” I asked him seriously as if I were actually considering his words. I never looked up from the maps laid out before me on the table, but I could sense the feelings in the room shift. Before everyone had been tense, but now there was nothing but amusement.

“Yeah, just like in the movies. So it should be easy enough for you guys to pull off.”He said not bothering to hide his smug expression, or that lovely condescension.

“Okay, so you can shrink down to fit inside a foot wide by six inch tall vent?” I asked casually, finally looking at him. He was looked like he was waiting for the punch line.

“No, of course not.” He scoffed.

“Oh, so how do you suggest we climb through those vents?”

“They’re not that small.” He muttered and rolled his eyes. He really should have shut his mouth sooner because now the whole room was bursting with laughter, causing his cheeks to burn bright red with either rage or embarrassment, probably both.

“Let me give you some advice to take back to your class,” I walked back over to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “The bigger the building the smaller the air vents.” I gave his shoulder one last pat before walking away again.

“Wow, you’re a really shitty leader. You should be listening to people instead of assuming you know best. Maybe other people have good ideas for this plan, but do you listen to them? No, you don’t.” He went back to looking like a pouting child, “You know what? I’m going to report you for poor leadership skills. You’ll have to retrain with us new recruits and then we’ll see who’s really the best.”

“Does anyone second his desire to report me?” I asked the room, everyone was still in good humor just shook their heads no, “I appreciate that you all stick by me even though I am an incompetent leader.” There was more laughter. “Well, kid, it looks like your personnel report has been denied.”

“What? No it doesn’t!” He cried with his chin stuck out. Oh, what a child, “It hasn’t gone past The Leader yet! Only he gets to decide what passes and what doesn’t. And once I tell him how this interaction went I just know he’ll be on my side!” It seemed as though he had two settings: pouting and smug. Right now he thought he had a reason to be smug.

“Interesting. The Leader is a guy? I don’t remember identifying as a guy, but I’m also not too picky about pronouns they/them is ideal but he/him is fine.” I said conversationally, meeting the amused eyes of my group. I looked at the noob and discovered that he had a third setting: confused. “Maybe before you go around threatening your superiors you should learn who is at the top of the ladder. Now I, The Leader, have looked over your concern with my council and we have rejected it.”