#Godless Season 2

[godlesslostsoul]

Character arcs are everything when it comes to good media. You fall in love with a character or a story because of that well rounded arc, and when it has meaning, even better. Not to go back to Marvel but I'm going back to Marvel. Overall, the MCU has examples of good and bad character arcs.

A couple examples of good: Carol Danvers, Peter Parker, Nebula, Loki, etc. If you look at these characters and their motivations from the beginning to the end, not only does it feel like there's growth, it also feels REAL and makes sense for their character and the story being told.

Now a couple of characters that didn't have the best arc and I can think of at this moment were Wanda and Steve but in SPECIFIC movies. Overall, they're good characters. But Steve in Endgame felt out of touch and Wanda in MoM didn't make sense. I do not understand why Steve would stay behind to be with Peggy. He had a life in the present time and to go back to be with Peggy doesn't make sense ESPECIALLY since he can't do anything to change the past. That's super isolating in hindsight. I do like the theory of how Stan Lee was supposed to be old Steve, but that's not confirmed and doesn't make up for this weird plot point. Then with Wanda, there's a very easy answer to why it felt off. Wandavision was apparently not finished by the time MoM started and the directors/producers had not seen Wandavision yet. So, that obvious disconnect makes sense but I feel like it could have been avoided if Marvel waited and had better inter-department/project communication.

[hybridreviews]

Anime DISCOVERY & TIME of the SEASON Present: The WORST Anime of 2023

Time for "HOW DO I PISS YOU OFF?!" with what anime I thought sucked!

I feel like whenever I’m hearing about any anime news in 2023, most of it has something to do with one company that has such a big stranglehold of the industry and they are pissing you off every chance they get, from not dubbing that show you like but dubbing a bunch of other shows (aka mostly various isekai) that you’ll forget within a week’s time it finished airing, an award show that caters…

[forcebookish]

idk i feel like dollhouse needed a character who was actual rigid in their beliefs and morals and never strayed. everyone loves a good corruption story, but i think in a series of Only morally ambiguous or evil characters, it would have helped make it more interesting if there had been someone who was always steadfast and "pure" in their crusade to the point that they were harming themselves and the people they wanted to protect. that's kind of who caroline is, although she is a good example of being corrupted in an organic way. paul from the start doesn't have good intentions and everyone knows it, but his being the badass "i don't follow the rules" blah blah blah type doesn't make him interesting, it makes him an absolute stereotype and a hypocrite. AND BORING.

[that-house]

can you tell us more about dronestrike & the campaign theyre from?

just read thhe post about it & immediately became obsessed

(context: Dronestrike is my warrior cats OC, an american imperialist robot cat the size of a horse and equipped with enough firepower to wipe out the clans if it seems like they're at risk of falling to communism. in the oneshot he accidentally fired a nuke at the city of LA and blamed "every other country" in a phone call with Bidenstar to avoid getting in trouble)

it wasn't a campaign, just an 11-person oneshot in the single most chaotic discord voice call I have ever been in. so i haven't played him since then, nor will i ever play him again

i can provide you a variety of facts about him i came up with after the fact though because he's a funny enough character that i can't stop thinking about him:

his brain is composed of three parts with an equal amount of control over his actions: the soul of a vietnam veteran, an AI replica of a cat, and every single super bowl halftime commercial

he comes armed with combat knives for claws, a machine gun in his mouth, a high caliber sniper rifle built into his spine, a pistol that he somehow uses with cat paws, and a douglas air-2 genie air-to-air unguided nuclear missile

transition could not save him because all trans people are godless communists who bully him on twitter

Dronestrike acknowledges every independence movement if only so that America has more countries to eventually colonize

he has read Marx so he can misuse quotes and flex on any marxists who haven't read theory

his greatest wish is for america to have won 'nam

doesn’t really have any physical possessions because he’s a cat who doesn’t have pockets or a permanent residence. he does however have $8.6 million in Shell oil stock

Dronestrike if he played League of Legends: only plays champs who have america-themed skins, but doesn’t actually own the skins because that would be giving money to a chinese company. plays all of them jungle to poor results. iron 4 two thousand games this season

has no mouth but wishes he did so he could taste the burgers that honest Americans have died to defend

Dronestrike's dream world is world war 3, with the stipulation that there is an american flag superimposed over EVERYONE'S vision instead of just his

if he had 24 hours to live he would start a “second american revolution” by attacking England

he isn't a good kisser: no lips, he's a cat, and also george washington famously said that romantic connections weaken your spiritual link with The State

response to being trapped in a maze of mirrors: breaks through the mirrors without noticing, but also can’t recognize his reflection. Thinks he has to fight these teleporting commie clones of himself to save the United States of America

he's on Santa's naughty list

on Halloween he dresses up as George Washington and “trick or disappears” journalists

Dronestrike hates the reds, the brits, women, and most importantly, himself

prefers fundamentals over schmovement

favorite board game is Monopoly because watching people go bankrupt or be imprisoned is one of his hobbies

his happiest memory is his first glimpse of an amazon packaging facility and the horrible conditions of the workers

favorite season is summer: 4th of July babey!!! the holiday where you're allowed to blow shit upppp!!! he also frequently sets off fireworks in the off season to scare dogs and people with anxiety

doesn’t date but he sends tech billionaires unethically farmed flowers sometimes

doesn’t play video games but he has a simulated CoD lobby’s chat going at all times in his head. they call him slurs whenever he misses a shot

relates strongly to Patrick Bateman

he was in ShadowClan. they picked which clan he would be deployed into by having him take the official "which clan are you" quiz

sometimes he doubts that he has the heart of a true warrior

[theomnicode]

One punch man and flirting with romance

Romance, in my opm? More likely than you think.

There are many instances in one punch man where the author and the mangaka specifically tip their toes into showcases of implicit romance than explicit, but it is there and I'd like to jump into the romantic cruise ship and put down some of the cases where romance has been implied.

Starting with number one, Fubuki and Psykos implied to be kissing under a tree as teenagers where Fubuki seals off Psykos' powers with an implied kiss, where Psykos is also seen blushing right after. Rest of their interactions also ooze romantic overtones.

Number two is cd audio drama, Saitama and the mysterious heroine, where Saitama and Genos go see a movie and Saitama starts talking about relationships after seeing Suiryu flirt with a woman, then goes on tangent about girlfriends and such.

Saitama: That’s not the point... I have the feeling that things like a heart to heart interaction, sharing an umbrella, warmth, are all things broken away in my life. Other people can have things like big events and circumstances happening, romances and such bringing happiness in their daily lives. I have the feeling something broke and that sweet-like fluffy, nice stuff just fell right off from me. That's what I meant.

Saitama: Genos, look, have you ever seen a hero anime without a love interest in it? Genos: I don't remember watching a lot of anime in the past.. Why do you ask? Saitama: Well, we're heroes, right? We're working and living as such. And yet, why are we indifferent towards things like love interests or girlfriends? In some way it seems obvious and logical, but is it really ok? Are you ok with reality being so much harder than fiction?

It is obvious that Saitama would still be interested in romance, as he seems to be a romantic at heart, yet after becoming so strong he struggles with his emotions, his apathy.

Saitama also reads romantic shoujo manga on his spare time, as seen on season 2 OVA.

Number three is fairly recent addition where it is implied that Genos interest in Saitama as a disciple may or may not be entirely platonic. 3 different people (Zombieman, Flashy flash and Amai-mask) take note of Genos growing interest in Saitama. Genos has also been noted very much be interested in his master's physical appeal in audio cd dramas and below excerpt.

Genos for a long time, has been a prime example of a potential fool in love, but it is still handled in implicit rather than explicit manner. Shoujo sparkles and all that included.

Number four is a most recent addition of Blast and his partner, possibly holding hands under the panel. Blast's partner is specifically referred to as "partner" and not a collaborator by Sitch, giving his partner some more importance in the scene than rest of Blast's teammates. This one may be reaching, but we'll be seeing in future arcs how correct that assumption is.

Number five, Saitama and makeover audio drama where Genos has given Saitama's attack a long name.

Saitama: (Serious voice) Super shining and lightning, that’s right, this next punch will overwhelm you like a gust of northern urban wind deep in December, this illusionary, fantastical, understanding punch from the heart, starting from hyper dreaming attack the final, a never-ending eternal forever endless sentimental with a high sense aggregation of full throttle, godless, loneliness, can’t stop falling in love and as soon as fighting…

Number six, monsters named Maiko plasma and Electric catfish man appear to be a married couple. Maiko plasma refers to Catfish man as "darling" in multiple occasions, so they appear to be involved.

Number 7, where Tatsumaki thinks that Saitama is attracted to her because he's gripping her hand.

Last but not least, number 8, romantic alternate universe comedy part between Fubuki and Saitama in high school audio drama, where Fubuki thinks Saitama wanted to confess to her.

OPM may not yet have any really explicit romance, but implicit...there is a boatload. ONE does not leave fans cold when it comes to romantic undertones. :D

[scoobydoodean]

I love the juxtaposition between Dean and Cas's reactions to Raphael in 5.03, when Raphael says God is dead and they just want this all to be over. There are tears in Raphael's eyes when he says it, and Cas mirrors him. The empathy he feels for Raphael—despite everything—is evident.

Dean though? Dean is mocking Raphael.

RAPHAEL: Do you think God would have let any of that happen if He were alive? DEAN: Oh yeah? Well then who invented the Chinese basket trick? RAPHAEL: Careful. That's my Father you're talking about, boy. DEAN: Yeah, who would be so proud to know His sons started the frigging apocalypse. RAPHAEL: Who ran off and disappeared. Who left no instructions and a world to run. DEAN: Daddy ran away and disappeared. He didn't happen to work for the post office, did He?

I think a lot of what Dean says is for Cas's benefit. Dean's caught on that god means a lot to Cas by now—he'd be stupid not to (especially after their fight in 5.02). Cas needs to believe his father cares and loves him and will help if Cas can just find him. So even though Dean himself thinks god is a deadbeat who doesn't give a shit, he mocks and belittle's Raphael's perspective and throws in the joke about the post office as an in-joke with Cas, purely for Cas's benefit, to try and lighten the mood. At the end of the episode, Dean encourages Cas not to give up hope. He tells him that if he believes his father is out there, he should follow his convictions and keep searching.

The other component of this though... is that Cas and Raphael are living through something with their own father that Dean has already lived... and Raphael and Michael's solution is to kill everybody about it.

So Dean goes, "Oh, so your dad left you with all of his responsibilities and then just disappeared? Boo hoo so sad." Like he is speaking from the perspective of someone who does know what it's like to be abandoned with the bag, and from the perspective of that lived experience, he is saying their actions are not justified—they are not acceptable. They don't get to take their daddy issues out on the world just because daddy is a deadbeat.

RAPHAEL: This is funny to you? You're living in a godless universe. DEAN: And? What, you and the other kids just decided to throw an apocalypse while He was gone? RAPHAEL: We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want...paradise. DEAN: So, what, God dies and makes you the boss and you decide you can do whatever you want?

And there's another connection to Dean here in that Raphael says he's tired. When Raphael says that, he is repeating something Dean said way back in 2.09, when the weight of John's last words was crushing him. John left Dean with responsibility for Sam's demonic destiny, which has now actually come to fruition in the form of the apocalypse. Dean has been blamed twice for the apocalypse already (5.01, 5.02) by Zachariah and Cas, because he didn't stop Sam in time.

So Raphael feels chained by his father's responsibilities and orders that are too big, and Dean has felt chained to Sam and Sam's destiny since season 2 (and chained to Sam more generally through parentification before then). They are both sons whose father left them with the bag—with responsibilities they just can't handle. They both just want it to be over (Dean does not want to feel responsible for Sam!!! He says that in 5.02 AND at the end of 5.03). But what Raphael and Michael are doing? Well. They're fucking killing everyone because they can't deal. Raphael thinks they can create some kind of paradise through destruction, but it's a fucking pipe dream. He isn't solving anything at all.

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 54

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

all i want for christmas by tusslee

“Listen,” Lance squeezes Keith’s fingers in his hands, “I’m as bad at this as you probably are and this is going to be really cheesy, but that’s the way I was raised and I know I act like an idiot around pretty girls, but I’m an even bigger idiot around you. Go ahead and try to guess why that is. No, actually don't do that."

this one is gonna be an xmas special!! even though im writing this before halloween lol. anyways. this was so cute!! lance being all stressed about what he should get keith bc he's all in love w him any everything. so real.

2. You're Here (Where You Should Be) by @blue-wanderer

"And if you’re worried about the cameras just take care of them.” “Take care—! Take care of them? With what, Keith?” “I don’t know?” Keith asks, busily testing his foothold in the gate and generally ignoring the rising storm cloud of ire behind him. “With a gun?” “A gun? This isn’t some sort of black ops storming an enemy base thing! This is a Christmas tree thing!” “I don’t see a difference? You’re the sharpshooter. Shoot out the cameras.” “Let me just pull a gun out of my ass, Keith!” “OK, problem solved,” Keith agrees, taking another step up the gate. “Nothing is solved you dumb country space redneck!”

Or Keith and Lance may be disasters at decorating, but Christmas still manages to work its magic on them.

i bookmarked this like a year ago and let me tell you all i needed to hear was dumb country space redneck and i was hooked 😭😭 and it lived up to the name fr. hate the canon ending? want lance to not be a farmer while still acknowledging his struggles with homesickness? want some whipped keith and meddlesome kosmo? want some cheesy xmas feels? click ahead!

3. make my wish come true by angelbolt

“A world where one has to fight for custody of one’s boyfriend is a godless one,” Lance muttered, slumping so he was leaning against Hunk. Shiro exchanged some final words with Kolivan before the screen blipped out. Ah yes, the ideal Christmas Eve: long boring talks and war meetings. Wonderful. ❆❅❆ keith comes home for christmas.

fun game idea: take a shot every time you see a klance xmas fic with a mariah carey lyric. lol. ANYWAYS yall know me and established relationship + early season dynamics!! i am obsessed!! and this fic delivers!! grumpy lance pov who just wants the rest of the world to fuck off for a couple days so he can have his bf around. he's such a voice of the people

4. i'll be home for christmas by @thespacenico

A severe bout of winter weather threatens to stop Shiro from making it home for his first Christmas with Keith. Shiro is ready to do whatever it takes to keep his promise.

okay this one is from darcy's i've got you brother, which i am obsessed with and have cried over several times, and which just recently updated! this fic is so cute and a adashi with young keith always fucking gets to me, man. they're just so. shiro being so desperately determined to keep his promise to young keith who has had so many promises broken that he doesnt even expect shiro to try. but is happy that he does. sobbing.

5. the greatest gift of all by dumpsterdiva

Keith’s mouth hung open for a few seconds before he stammered, “D-do you really mean that?” Lance looked a bit sheepish as he said, “I… It’s crazy, right? I mean, it’s way too soon. You know I was kidding.” Keith straightened up. “Well, I’m not. Marry me.” “What?!” “You heard me, you coward. Marry me.” “That’s the worst proposal ever!” “Worse than you threatening me with marriage so I would stop talking about how amazing you are?”

YOU GUYS KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT PROPOSAL FICS. i feel ksjbskdbqjdbqwlwd about them. okay. and throw in a christmas setting??? and banter?? and a MODERN AU?? i am doing my best, people. this fic had me shoving a pillow into my face and screaming.

that’s it for today!! happy holidays! merry christmas!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[thatsthewrongwallcraig]

In The Woods Somewhere

Chapter 1: Mortification Of The Flesh

Summary: What are you left to do, finding yourself in a place you can’t call home but home isn’t a place you can return to either?

Pairing: Father Ignatius x nun!afab!Reader

Word Count: ~ 1.7k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, Graphic Discourse About Guilt, Shame And Trauma, Explicit Self-Destructive Behaviour Under The Pretense Of Self-Flagellation, Abusive Family Relations, Hurt/No Comfort

A/N: The Lambs Of God fandom is tiny! Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment <3

Story-adjacent Playlist here!

No pressure tags: @theprettiesthead @queer-crusader @midnight-mess @blueberrypancakesworld

She moved with shameless wonder

The perfect creature rarely seen

Since some liar brought the thunder

When the land was godless and free

- Foreigner’s God By Hozier

“Are you not hungry, Sister?” Carla quipped as the beautifully red-headed woman drilled a fork into a piece of somewhat overcooked and under-seasoned potato.

“Not much, I’m afraid.” Your answer came just as void of motivation as your overall interest in having dinner that cloudy evening.

Summer was passing a little more each day now and the first cold winds had started to creep into the many cracks of the old stone walls. However, it wasn’t only the swift drop in temperature that made you shimmy lightly in your tightly knitted robe.

“Can I please be excused? Sister Margarita?” You turned to look at the oldest woman sitting across from you at the table.

Sister Margarita looked up from her assortment of steamed late-summer vegetables, slightly chapped lips pursed into an inquiring expression.

“I don’t feel all too well, Sister. I would very much like to go to be early tonight.” The older woman listened to your explanation, lowering her fork whilst looking at you; examining.

“Iphigenia, don’t you think she looks quite pale today?” Margarita turned to the last member of your tiny and overly secluded sisterhood, not immediately addressing you, even if it was very much your problem, which was the topic of discussion at the dinner table right now.

“Oh, dear, yes, I was thinking that as well, Margarita.” Iphigenia nodded in agreement before bringing the discourse back to you, “You are excused, my dear. Please let me know if you need anything, a calming cup of tea, perhaps?”

With a fake smile adorning your lips, you waved the kind offer off and quickly removed yourself from the dinner table, hasty steps carrying you to the chambers you shared with Sister Carla. She was a few years younger than you yet much better versed in the ways this monastery was run by the older Sisters since she’d spent her entire life here, unlike you. You’d been sent here, discarded by your parents after being kicked from a catholic all-girls high school for being a quote-unquote “troublemaker”. Troublemaker… you scoffed upon remembering the afternoon they’ve had you pack all your most prized possessions in a small suitcase, barely 2 hours before being shipped here like a parcel which was lacking a “Return to sender!” note. Your parents paid good money to the church on the mainland to have you kept here; fed, clothed, and indoctrinated thoroughly. It had been about 10 years now, the occasional letter from your parents arriving around Christmas and some years also around Easter when they could be bothered to remember having an eldest daughter and not just their little love child in the form of your younger brother.

Lost in thoughts, you kicked the heavy door open, letting it fall back into its frame equally unfazed after you entered the room and threw yourself onto your bed, face buried into the flimsy pillow to muffle a deep groan clawing its way out of your throat. Some nights you could barely stand to be here yet being at “home” wasn’t something you would’ve wanted either. There was no real place like a home for you anymore and this brittle, old monastery in the very middle of buttfuck nowhere was unfortunately the best you could get.

You whined your frustration into the pillow anew before turning onto your back and staring at the gray-in-gray stone ceiling; thoughts wandering from one source of frustration to the next, accompanied by a guilty pang vibrating through your empty stomach.

Every quarter a priest from the mainland paid the Sisters of St. Agnes a visit. You’ve heard Sister Iphigenia joke about it being his quarterly holiday but you hardly believed this place to be the location of Father Ignatius’ vacation desires. Did priests even go on vacation? You shrugged your shoulders subconsciously. It was only a matter of days before he’d come around again like the Inquisition to make sure this far-off place didn’t stray far off the scripture just because the sisterhood very much could. Unfortunately, nobody here seemed to harbor this kind of sentiment, nobody besides you; half-torn between the sacred writings and experiences from your past life still beating and begging for attention inside of you.

The latter ones had been awfully loud inside your thoughts again, primitive wants and needs thrashing through your body from the time you’d wake up to the point you’d drift off into sleep. No matter how devoted you’d knelt in prayer to whomever, might it be a god, the universe, or the spirits of the forest of this old land, the pressing thoughts of desire had prevailed to haunt you through every waking moment.

You knew them all too well and where they'd get you once your resistance slipped, the still painfully vibrant memories of your mother's manicured nails smacking against your cheekbone your imminent reminder. A whore, she'd called you, a cheap slut working the corner in no time, she'd fired those words at you like flesh-piercing ammunition, bellowing at you to get your shit together and stop sobbing so pathetically.

Thinking about it, you felt a sense of rage mixing with the guilt. Men made you do stupid things, terribly stupid, stupid, stupid! First the janitor's son back in high school and now this priest with his pretty hair and beautiful eyes. No, stop! Your own hand slapped against your cheekbone and you shook your head, not quite crying but squirming in shame most certainly.

“No…no!” The brief sting of pain wasn't enough to rip you out of it and the next thing you sought to help yourself with were the palms of your hands pushing into your eye sockets until your whole skull throbbed from the rapidly building pressure.

“Stupid whore! Dumb slut! Shit daughter! Disgrace!” The words spilled from your mouth in your mother's fashion over and over again until you bit down into the flesh of your wrist to keep your lips from betraying you. A pained wince was muffled by your teeth pressing into the skin of your arm, leaving reddened dents after pulling away again.

You found yourself breathing heavily as you came down from your sudden outburst, a hot wash of tears forming at your lower lash line with eyes bloodshot from the harsh assault.

Pathetic! Pathetic! Pathetic!

Couldn't even control your own wretched thoughts! No wonder your parents wanted nothing to do with you. You were useless and perverted and…oh, no…don't you sniffle just now about your own incompetence. Don't cry.

Don't. You. Cry. Now.

And you choked it all back, every little sob or wail. All of it back down your burning throat like sanding paper against splintering wood. Accumulating pain rippled through you in tiding pulses and yet it didn’t feel like you were suffering enough, it had to be more to be truly cleansing, to make you stop wanting things you mustn’t desire.

With your thoughts racing and reeling through your mind, you tried to remember where you’d discarded the whip Sister Margarite had made you craft during the very first weeks of your stay here on the island. The oldest Sister had been frighteningly adamant about it and at first, you’d believed the crude tool to be for beating you through the halls and corridors but that hadn’t been the case, at least not by someone else’s hand. No, no, Sister Margarite supervised the making of this leathery thing to have you gift it to yourself eventually, advising you to use it on your own demand. Only lately have you started even considering it. For years, the torturous tool had been left to collect dust…but where, damn it, where?

You couldn’t recall it fast enough but your atonement also couldn’t wait, you’d have to make due somehow. Like lightning, the decision struck, and mere seconds later you shoved your hands underneath the loose collar of your robe, fingertips creeping across your collarbones and up behind the curve of your shoulders until dirty, bitten-off nails drilled down into the skin. You wanted to scream as you pulled your clawing hands back to your chest, raggedy nails tearing through the first layers of skin at ease, however, you forbade yourself from emitting the faintest sound; suffering in silence the only righteous way about it.

And again, hands reaching back to clasp into the quickly forming groves of torn skin to wreak havoc some more, until…until…droplets of wet warmth pooled around your trembling fingertips, squelching along the curve and soaking dark red spots into the knitted patterns of greyish wool.

You still felt like crying but effectively rendered yourself too numb to do so. Finally, the pain thundering through your every nerve ending now had burned it all away, every malevolent and treacherous thought of things that mustn't be thought, felt and god forbid experienced.

Every little expression on your face slipped off of it as you sat yourself back up, the cloth-covered hay mattress underneath you rustling quietly; the only leftover want being that of having a little space to yourself, someplace to hide away at for an hour or two. With your hands still firmly pressed against the self-inflicted cuts and scratches, you fled this room you shared with Sister Carla, although the two of you usually stuck with one another, she didn’t need to know everything.

The confessional, you thought, the makeshift shack forming a confessional with doors to maintain a modicum of privacy.

[presiding]

i wanna hear your recommendations!

a list with some stuff i like + a request for you to share yours :)

as a godless queer who spawned on earth randomly one time, my only holiday-season tradition is charity + passionately enjoying things. in lieu of passing my followers & mutuals $100 cash, have a random variety of things you might like to try - i know we're an international bunch so your mileage may vary on what you can access. in the spirit of giving i am hoping for some recs 🎁♥

disclaimer these are just things i like i am not paid. would be great. but.

yo ho ho if you read comics & manga but always found it to be a pain in the ass to source online, here's the aggregator app of your dreams: tachiyomiJ2K. real. not clickbait. android only tho. the extensions mangacute, mangadex, allanime, and mangareader, are good places to start. as a creator, i'm always iffy about recommending this kind of thing because i'd much prefer you went out and brought the things you're reading, however i'm not under any illusions about which era we're in, media-wise and economy-wise

gemma! - webcomic what if corvo was a woman and young emily was a dragon and they went on adventures in a fun fantasy/adventure way that is Extremely Gender. pictured: gender. god i want to be her > is this the greatest webcomic of all time? no. is it that sweet spot between 'mindless fun' and 'good'? yes. you get me

laksa noodles the more intl friends i have the more i realise that laksa isn't common everywhere. don't let that stop you from trying it. ultimate comfort food. hearty noodly soupy goodness. worth seeking out fr

ways of seeing - mini-documentary so profoundly changed the way i think that i had been wanting to revisit it and so was delighted to find its all on youtube. if you're an artist or want to improve your ability to critically think about what you're seeing in media, this is a must-see. link or embedded>

FUCKING GOOD AND CHEAP GREEN TEA price comment won't apply to everyone this site offers great prices for high quality tea direct from the farm. been buying from here for years and its always amazing - i love the houjicha/roast green tea, and if you like green tea but always wish it was stronger without sacrificing taste or becoming bitter, i recommend genmaicha matcha-iri, which uses matcha to intensify the flavour. yum

incense body powder being a perfume nerd who is prone to migraines sucks. if you like spices and good incense - not the $2 kind that you use to hide cigs from your parents but rather the kind that smells like wandering into a forest temple - you'll love incense body powder. it lasts well and i'd most compare it to a softer, more gourmand comme des garçons Incense series 3 kyoto. shoyeido is the easiest to source as far as i can tell, but other brands make it too. USD$11 - cheaper than even cheap perfumes tbh - the bag will last you years. if you try this please tell me i'd love to know what you think!

anyway!! i wanna hear your recs if you have any! can be any type of thing that has recently improved your mood or changed your life or you think someone else might like?

anyone reading can go for it, consider this a carte blanche for recommendations. gonna tag a few people - you don't have to of course thank you love you <;3 @lapinneok @dangerousdan-dan @arosebyothernames @headcrabrave @corvidad @neznoodles @retired-crow @corpseprince @i-really-hate-creating-usernames @geminison @fakeshibe @skemford @loveofdetail + please feel welcome if not tagged! edit OH @nekon-ron i tried to tag your old URL. ha

[spinningbuster98]

Netflixvania Slander

Trevor and Sypha showcasing a loving and healthy relationship, especially as far as the former's alcoholism is concerned:

Alucard fans, if Powerhouse made a whole artbook containing all the different ways he can showcase his chest:

Sypha, Greta and Tera:

Dracula in Season 1:

Dracula in Season 2:

Carmilla's personality depth:

Isaac's character arc:

Hector's character arc (according to the show):

Hector's character arc:

Lenore fans explaining why slipping an enslavement ring on your lover while you're having sex does not count as breaking consent and thus a form of rape, exhibit 1:

Exhibit 2:

Exhibit 3:

Exhibit 4:

Exhibit 5:

Erzebet looking for her missing personality:

Maria when you take away her Twitter account:

Annette, dodging all kinds of responsibility for her behavior:

The Abbot when he realises that vampires are also godless:

Juste:

Richter, on his way to becoming useless and getting his hands on his family's true heirloom:

[rhineposting]

( inspired by an idea from a genshin discord server )

The month was the 8th, slowly eclipsing in on the 9th. Like each year, travelers and merchants alike from all over traveled far and wide through different roads, all ultimately leading towards one destination beneath the surface - the underground Kingdom of Khaenri’ah, Starry House of Many Doors, and it’s annual Stjern-Falle Festival.

Many believed at least once that the celebration honored the departure of Summer and arrival of Autumn, as the name almost seemed to imply - alas, with the nation being removed from Gods’ gaze, they knew not of gentle winds of Spring, golden middays of Summer, raging storms of Autumn and certainly not of the cold fangs of Winter. Having conquered nature, Khaenri’ah had essentially risen above the need for seasons and therefore had no need to honor them. What else could the godless people celebrate them? That which is above the seasons as well, of course - the stars.

Ages ago, scholars had found a way of creating environments with sights and conditions taken from anywhere else in the world, calling them simply Domains - as such, in it’s earliest years, the first Sages of Khaenri’ah cast upon their kingdom an image of a starry sky far away, beyond divinity itself ; and each year from that foreign sky a rain of stars would come falling down, it’s dews harvested by the scientists and mages alike, providing prosperity to the kingdom for years to come.

However, as is with human nature, both the outsiders from above and the residents from below saw that time as a most opportune occasion for profit and trade ; and so, the Stjern-Falle Festival was open to all who could afford to make the journey.

Or to those who were removed from the circle of commerce entirely, thought a bard as he climbed out of a barrel, his feather-light footsteps quiet as he ran, a bag in one hand and a lyre in the other, burdened only with but a few Mora.

(One that he personally picked off of his dear old friend earlier when he lied unconscious and unaware in his…The bard would have liked to be so kind as to call it a bed, but really - it was just a hoarding pile of expensive quilts, pillows and trinkets.)

Among his few burdens, one would not be able to find a solid plan of his future endeavors. Should one peek into his mind and search for any plan, at best they would find a small list written in colored wax, reading as such:

1. Wine from Khemia-grown grapes

2. Traditional Khaenri’ahn Music

3. Make new friends

4. Watch the star rain

5. ?????

6. Go home and take a nap

The best plan is the lack of it thereof, such was the bard’s philosophy, and it yet had to fail him. Each corner of the world had a story to tell, and if he wanted to hear them all, what good would it do to arbitrarily set directions by himself? Besides, with fate being world’s best guide, putting in the time to make a schedule of any kind would have been too bothersome ; and above all, the bard was a man of leisures.

Once far away enough from the cargo of merchants and the grand, iron elevators the size of stages, he found himself sitting upon a small wall, marveling. At what? Simply put, everything before and below him.

By then the city, called lovingly by poets a Puddle of Many Rains, had been flooded with market stalls and stages alike ; it’s own lights bright seemingly mirroring the artificial stars above, reflecting them much like a true puddle would have. Though windless, the air was thick with scents so numerous and varied, so much that they could all be referred to only with a collective name : scent of a festival. Truly, the bard found it incredible how little the scent varied across the continent, be it Lantern Rite in Liyue or Day of Sabzeruz in Sumeru - at their core, they were all the same.

Overjoyed and energized, the bard chuckled under his breath and proceeded to close his eyes, letting his legs carry him to wherever they deemed fitting.

***

Not long into his blind trek, his ears made him come to a halt, something catching their attention. Thus did the bard stop right in the middle of the river of people passing by and listened :

A simple tune, coming from an instrument likely between a violin and an accordion, should his knowledge of instruments be up to date. Though it’s tones were deep, he could not help but pay mind to how swiftly the melody could go from somber to joyful in seconds. Intrigued, he squeezed past the rushing stream of the crowds. To his joy, soon after he had been faced with a young man, a strange violin-like instrument over his shoulder, one hand pressing keys and the other shifting a bow back and forth, producing music unlike anything he had heard in most recent years.

So he stood there, a one man audience to the youth, his green eyes bright with awe - contrasting greatly with the young man’s focused face as he continued playing for what felt like eternity and a fleeting moment both. All spheres of life had rules unspoken, therefore once the youth finished playing he bowed, while the bard clapped, a wide smile almost cutting through his face.

“Why, that was delightful!” the bard exclaimed, his palms by then aching from his applause, “Tell me o fellow poet, what is the name of this lovely instrument?”

“Nyckelharpa, sire!” the young man replied, “More commonly called the bowed violin, it’s our national instrument! And would I be right to assume you hail from the City of Winds?”

“Verily, my friend! Quite the perceptive eye you got there!” the bard praised, clapping once more, “Then again, my lyre does quite betray my origins, doesn’t it?’

“Nay, it’s actually your attire. Few people here need capes, and rarely in such vibrant colors as yours! If I had to name people I know of that wear capes, not only would their number fit on my single hand, they’re all from the Royal Court! Black Serpent Knights, the Mages, Court Alchemists and of course, the King and his family!”

That too the bard noticed - rarely did the clothes of the locals come in shades other than black, white, gray, blue or purple. Living beneath the surface did have it’s negatives, lack of access to a variety of dyes must have been among them. Still, from what he saw thus far, the people of Khaenri’ah made up for it with jewelry and adornments of brass and iron alike, ranging from simple buttons to elaborate earrings - worthy of landing in his dearest friend’s trash pile of a nest.

“If you’re so kind, could you tell me where may I learn more about your music?” asked the bard, “As it happens , I seek mastery over every instrument I can find - and it currently stands at the humble number of fifty seven!”

To that, the oblivious young man couldn’t help but burst out laughing, nearly folding both himself and his beloved instrument over. To that the bard took no offense, few ever believed him. Then again, few was the number of people who were capable of having enough years to master even three instruments, let alone fifty seven. By the time the young man managed to regain his breath, his cheeks had turned as red and round as an apple freshly picked off a tree, teeth bared in a wide smile.

“In that case, why don’t I take you to my school, master?” the man jokingly proposed, “I’d like to be there to see your list expand to fifty eight- or better yet, make it sixty! It’s a perfect time for such a milestone, is it not?”

“It is, friend,” the bard nodded. “It is.”

That year had marked Barbatos’ first ever Stjern-Falle Festival, as well as the year he mastered sixty five instruments total. From then on, the journey to Khaenri’ah’s many doors had become a voyage he would eagerly look forward to.

***

The wheel of time had turned a hundred times more, and so did the wheels of a cart as it came to a halt as soon as it got out from the since then upgraded cargo elevators. In spite of the countless inspections from merchants and guards both, once again it had an additional passenger - who had slipped from underneath the cart itself, filthy and dry with dust sticking into every crevice of his face. Resisting the urge to cough and spit, the passenger made a run for the shadows of various containers, where only then he’d wipe furiously at his twisted in discomfort face. Such a shame that no more were caravans as accommodating to stowaways as they used to be, sometimes even being as cruel as to employ usage of cats and dogs alike to avoid extra company.

“Phef phef phef,” the bard spat and wiped into his sleeves, a few tears running down his gray from dust face, “Oh dear, how am I ever going to wash this taste off?”

The question was purely rhetorical : as always, the answer to every issue under the sun would remain to be wine and music alike. That year, it was no different.

***

“May I ask for a slice of brie with that, good sir?”

Much time had passed, and by then the bard managed to clean both his robes and body from road dust - appearing as presentable and pleasant to the eye as ever, the image of a perfect customer that he was not. Not that the poor waiter would have known, as he kept bringing him more wine and snacks, blissfully unaware that upon being presented with the check, the bard would have been out through the chimney quicker than one could call for guards. Even then, no prison in Teyvat and below would have been able to hold him, as far as he knew.

“Will do!” the waiter bowed, and departed like a leaf in the wind, leaving the bard to his own devices.

Once more he had forgotten to bring a book to fill the time in between glasses and snacks and unfortunately enough, the establishment did not have performers of any kind, nor even books for a quick lend - effectively leaving him with plenty of time in his hands and nothing to invest it into. A shame, truly - had it not been for one ace up his sleeve for trying times such as these.

(And up more places, such as various orifices - at least according to his friend, whose constant stone face would eventually develop cracks upon losing a card game for the eight time in a row. A small breeze can carve a mountain, as they say.)

The ace being one of his favorite past times - to simply put, people watching. One would think that a man his age and wisdom would one day grow weary of the sight of humans of any kind - and they couldn’t be more wrong, fortunately. For the same reason why children insisted on hearing the same story for bedtime night after night, the bard would seek out the company of man, as mundane as their lives tended to be. Simple, infallible logic, he thought.

Surely enough, not long after the restaurant gained a new customer - a young girl, already tall for her age, donning robes of a scholar yet presenting herself with the confidence of a senior professor. Proud, with her chin lifted high, she approached the man behind the counter - the ringing sound of Mora making itself known across the establishment.

“I’d like your meal of the day. Sunshine Sprat. Take-out,” she requested. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.”

“Of course, we’ll serve it to you in just a minute!”

So they did - before the bard knew it, the girl had been presented with the meal, wrapped up and secured like a gift, fragrant steam escaping from the cracks and folds here and there. Like a true princess, the girl took the package in her hands - and proceeded to run out the door as if her life depended on it. Soon enough, the server made the reason why known across the restaurant.

“You swindling little brat!!” The bard heard the man roar to the door, “Someone go catch her!”

When the bard looked closer, he saw that the Mora were gone - replaced only by a pile of rocks.

That evening, the restaurant earned two new customers on their blacklist.

***

It didn’t take the bard very long to find the girl - a few twists and turns, one flight across a few rooftops, two dives into the trash - and there she was, not even five minutes later ; not because she was slow, but simply because the bard was not someone anyone or anything could escape from, no matter how far they would travel.

He observed from afar, a hand under his chin, deeply entertained. The girl, likely no older than fourteen, carved into the dish much like a princess would have, while simultaneously reading a book that sat over her crossed lap as she sat on the ground behind a building. Her expression remained one of complete lack of bother or guilt of any kind, and it was so convincing that one would almost believe her, should she claim she was not to blame. By then, the bard’s amusement had almost shifted to entrancement, and before either of them knew it, he sat by her side after seemingly appearing from nowhere.

“Interesting trick back there, young lady!” he exclaimed, wearing an award winning smile, bright enough to blind, “Never seen anyone do something like that before, and I’ve been around for a while! Say, are you willing to share your secrets with a traveler from afar?”

In return, the girl graced him with a side-eyeing glare, unbothered by his swift and soundless fall from the sky - as if she was indeed a princess, looking down upon a mere peasant that managed to sneak past her bodyguards. From what the bard knew about the citizens of Khaenri’ah, chances were, a princess she might’ve been.

Her turquoise eyes were as bright as the stars themselves, and fittingly enough, her pupils resembled them as well - sharp and four pointed, almost shrunken into four thin lines as she looked him up and down. As far as he heard, those were exclusive to nobility of Khaenri'ah, a sign of their pure blood.

“Khemia,” she replied, before turning back to her book, “Basics of transmutation. Now can you go away, I’m trying to eat and you stink.”

“Oh, are you implying I don’t take proper hygiene measures when abroad? I’m hurt, deeply so!”

The girl raised one dark blonde eyebrow, “Wounded, even?”

“Hurt, young lady!”

“If you call me young lady again, you will be picking out worms from your nostrils for the rest of your life.”

“Then what should I call you instead? If you’d like, I’ll introduce myself first!” Before the girl could make it known how much she wouldn’t have liked to know his name, he offered his hand for shaking, “Venti! Venti the Bard!”

Not only did the girl not shake his hand, she looked at it as if it had been ridden with sepsis. Somehow, her already annoyed expression grew even more unimpressed.

“Rhinedottir. Not to be mistaken for my two sisters Rendottir and Rheindottir. Now can you put that away,” the girl ordered, as calmly as one could. “What do you want.”

“Well, truth be told, even though I’ve been here many times in the past for the Stjern-Falle Festival, I never quite managed to learn about Khemia from it’s source,” Venti explained upon putting his hand away, only to gesture away as he spoke, “And you seem like you know quite a lot about it, with how you’re able to use it so casually!”

For a while, the girl said nothing and merely observed the bard, expectantly - likely waiting for him to leave. Unfortunately for her, no such thing had occurred ; Venti did not undo his presence and continued sitting there, waiting for his answer as well. Had it been any other day, perhaps the girl would have entertained the idea of an out-waiting contest with her coming out as the victor. Alas, such couldn’t be, for if she continued waiting her meal would have gone cold.

“…Alright, fine,” the girl eventually relented, rolling her turquoise eyes to the sky and back, “…How do you explain white chalk in black soil, or the earth’s dense crust amidst the emptiness of space? While alchemy transmutates the inanimate, Khemia creates life, using other forms of life as a base. That’s how we can grow crops here underground. Otherwise we’d starve.”

Venti nodded, listening as attentively as one could, uttering not one word of his own.

“…But I think we can do even more with Khemia,” Rhinedottir suddenly added, idly shifting through the pages of her book. “I think that if I used the right formulas, I could create sentient life from scratch.”

“And why would you want to do that?” asked Barbatos. “Creating life is a pretty big deal. Not even gods are allowed to do that.”

The girl did not listen.

All she did was glare at him, if not at the whole world itself. Though her face was young, her gaze was not one of a small child. Sharp and heavy, it carried a weight for which the bard could not settle on a name at that time ; was it ambition or arrogance? Countless times he had seen both, and yet, neither had fit the mark.

“I want to be great,” she stated. “So I’m gonna be the greatest alchemist of all time.”

Venti just laughed under his nose and Barbatos nodded, her words engraved in his memory.

“Hope I will be there to see it for myself.”

He did, thirty Stjern-Falle Festivals later.

So did everyone else.

[valentinedagger]

In your House MD COVID special, Chase would be starting shit with the religious nut jobs protesting in front of the building and falls in love with one of them, tries to debate theology with her in bed until he finds out she’s a Q-anon nut, to which Chase and Foreman research and then Foreman nopes out while Chase tries one more time to reach Q-anon lady who then leaves this godless city and ends up in that JFK jr cult one day.

This subplot is about 5 mins of the whole COVID episodes except for 1 focusing on Chase, the rest of the time you only see Chase running around in the background trying to revive people like he does in the show (him being an intensivist and all) but there’s just so many and House keeps barking “where’s Chase?” but Cuddy is all “no we need him with patients rn not on your wild goose chase” (“goose chase” is the name of the episode that focuses on him this season. It’s a 7/10 episode) and they argue about it like once an episode.

Foreman finds out his previously unmentioned aunt is anti-mask/vax and the writers try to touch on how the American black population has legitimate reasons for mistrusting the healthcare system but this time is different, but the writers fuck it up so badly they have to apologize on twitter after the episode airs for somehow making EVERYONE mad

This plot takes up 2 episodes, is the mid season finale, and then his aunt is never mentioned again

anon. anon i need you to know that the night you sent this i was stoned out of my mind and i SHRIEKED out loud upon reading this. and i immediately showed it to my girlfriend and we spent the next ten minutes laughing uncontrollably.

you get it. how does it feel to be a Certified House MD Understander. (i know how it feels and i know it is not necessarily a compliment but we are bonded on the astral plane so like it is <3)

[thephantomcasebook]

If the rumors of Laenor not returning in s2 are true I wonder what use he will have in future seasons and how he will return. Would've been better if they gave him his book fate, honestly. I don't understand where they're going with this.

Clear the Chickens off the runway, I'll be the bad guy.

Look, they weren't going to kill Laenor, cause, they were playing the identity politics game. They knew they were going to get shit from the douche bags on twitter , Corporate Media Sites, and from the godless wildebeests on this hell site, that they're killing off all their gays.

Laenor survived because:

1.) He's gay and it would look bad to the shallow social media activists if they did to him what happened in the books.

2.) They used this as a golden opportunity to white wash Rhaenyra into a punk-rock progressive girlboss that's, like, super clever and compassionate.

It's a mix of Sapochnik's bullshit and the corporate culture of the, then, heads of HBO that fully supported social political statements - almost damn near mandated them - in all of their content.

And I can quote an actual former HBO executive who openly admitted it at a party.

Where are they going with it?

Nowhere ... cause, it's just one more royally fucked story point and loose end created by the insistent need to make political statements over telling a cohesive sprawling story.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Daily Light on the Daily Path by Samuel Bagster

Daily Reading for April 3rd

Amos 4:11 "I overthrew you, as God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah, And you were like a firebrand snatched from a blaze; Yet you have not returned to Me," declares the LORD.

Isaiah 33:14 Sinners in Zion are terrified; Trembling has seized the godless. "Who among us can live with the consuming fire? Who among us can live with continual burning?"

2 Corinthians 1:9,10 indeed, we had the sentence of death within ourselves so that we would not trust in ourselves, but in God who raises the dead; • who delivered us from so great a peril of death, and will deliver us, He on whom we have set our hope. And He will yet deliver us,

Romans 6:23 For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Hebrews 10:31 It is a terrifying thing to fall into the hands of the living God.

2 Corinthians 5:11 Therefore, knowing the fear of the Lord, we persuade men, but we are made manifest to God; and I hope that we are made manifest also in your consciences.

2 Timothy 4:2 preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort, with great patience and instruction.

Jude 1:23 save others, snatching them out of the fire; and on some have mercy with fear, hating even the garment polluted by the flesh.

Zechariah 4:6 Then he said to me, "This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel saying, 'Not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit,' says the LORD of hosts.

1 Timothy 2:4 who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.

[steveezekiel]

THE TIME OF RELEASE

“CAN A WOMAN FORGET HER NURSING CHILD, And not have compassion on the son of her womb? SURELY THEY MAY FORGET, YET I [God] WILL NOT FORGET YOU."

Isaiah 49:15 (NKJV)

* God has concern for His children. If a child of God did go astray, He would chastise him or her with the compassion and motivation to bring such back to Himself.

- God was saying, the Jews would be punished, but they would be restored after a while:

26 AND SO ALL ISRAEL WILL BE SAVED, as it is written: “The Deliverer will come out of Zion, AND HE WILL TURN AWAY UNGODLINESS FROM JACOB; 27 For THIS IS MY COVENANT WITH THEM, WHEN I TAKE AWAY THEIR SINS” (Romans 11:26,27 NKJV).

- If you, as a Believer, a child of God, misses it, and God chastises you; He surely would bring you back to Himself after a genuine repentance. God would not totally forsake you. He will turn your captivity after a genuine repentance.

* God would restore whatever you had lost through the Captivity: "THIS IS WHAT THE SOVEREIGN LORD SAYS: “See, I will give a signal to the godless nations. THEY WILL CARRY YOUR LITTLE SONS BACK TO YOU IN THEIR ARMS; THEY WILL BRING YOUR DAUGHTERS ON THEIR SHOULDERS" Isaiah 49:22 (NLT).

READ: Psalm 126:1

- If you offended God and He did punish you, He would not abandon you in that state that you are. Thus, Accept God's chastisement (Proverbs 3:11,12; Hebrews 12:5,6).

- When you are being chastised by God, accept it with a good heart, because He has done it for your good. He did it that you might partake in His Holiness:

"FOR our earthly fathers disciplined us for a few years, doing the best they knew how. BUT GOD'S DISCIPLINE IS ALWAYS GOOD FOR US, SO THAT WE MIGHT SHARE IN HIS HOLINESS" (Hebrews 12:10 NLT).

- God would surely restore a child with the penitent or repentant heart, because such is precious to Him: "THE SACRIFICES OF GOD ARE A BROKEN SPIRIT, A BROKEN AND A CONTRITE HEART—THESE, O GOD, YOU WILL NOT DESPISE" (Psalm 51:17 NKJV).

- The most important thing is, the Heart with which the erring child receives the discipline or chastisement: "FOR ALL those things My hand has made, And all those things exist,” Says the LORD. “BUT ON THIS ONE WILL I LOOK: ON HIM WHO IS POOR AND OF A CONTRITE SPIRIT, AND WHO TREMBLES AT MY WORD" (Isaiah 66:2 NKJV).

READ: Psalm 34:18

* The punishment and the suffering would be for a while, If the erring Believer had a repentant heart.

- God promises to bring the Israelites out of their Captivity, back to their land of inheritance. A chosen vessel of God would not be outright or completely forsaken:

16 SEE, I HAVE INSCRIBED YOU ON THE PALMS OF MY HANDS; YOUR WALLS ARE CONTINUALLY BEFORE ME. 17 Your sons shall make haste; YOUR DESTROYERS AND THOSE WHO LAID YOU WASTE SHALL GO AWAY FROM YOU" (Isaiah 49:16,17 NKJV).

- Note:

a. When you are out of the predicament or Captivity, learn from your past mistakes, and do not allow it to repeat itself.

b. Appreciate God for your deliverance.

c. Tell others about God's goodness and love.

d. Let God have His way in your life.

e. Be more dedicated to God than you were before.

* The turning of captivity is usually like a dream: "WHEN THE LORD BROUGHT BACK THE CAPTIVES [who returned] TO ZION, WE WERE LIKE THOSE WHO DREAM [it seemed so unreal]" (Psalm 126:1 —Amplified Bible, Classic Edition).

- There is hope for whoever belongs to God, but finds himself or herself in one Captivity or another.

- If you had been going through ordeals, It is my Joy to announce to you, As you read this piece, now is the season of release. Believe the news. The time of emancipation; unloosen or freeing, has come.

- The devil who is the captor might not be happy with the news of the release or freedom, but there is nothing he can do about it:

24 Who can snatch the plunder of war from the hands of a warrior? Who can demand that a tyrant let his captives go? 25 BUT THE LORD SAYS, “THE CAPTIVES OF WARRIORS WILL BE RELEASED, AND THE PLUNDER OF TYRANTS WILL BE RETRIEVED. FOR I WILL FIGHT THOSE WHO FIGHT YOU, AND I WILL SAVE YOUR CHILDREN" (Isaiah 49:24,25 NLT).

* It is reiterated again, God will not forsake you, His anger is only for a moment: "FOR HIS ANGER LASTS ONLY A MOMENT, BUT HIS FAVOUR LASTS A LIFETIME! WEEPING MAY LAST THROUGH THE NIGHT, BUT JOY COMES WITH THE MORNING" (Psalm 30:5 NLT).

- There is a hope of restoration for God's children who are willing to change, those who open and respond positively to corrections and chastisements.

- If you are under God's discipline, punishment, or chastisement, there is hope for you. If you are permitted to be in any Captivity, in order to be corrected and learned, your time of release is here, as you pay attention to the principles shared in this piece.

- The truth is; God would not outright forget or forsake His son or daughter who erred and repented genuinely. Repentance; a change of mind and of your ways, is the key factor.

* You will not fail in Jesus' name.

- I have the urge to always pray for those who are ill or sick. If there is any ailment in your body, I release the healing power of God on you, and I declare your healing now, in the mighty name of Jesus Christ.

- Your afflictions come to an end in Jesus' name.

- Your time of release has come, you are deliver from that Captivity of sicknesses and diseases in the name of Jesus Christ.

- And the afflictions will never rise again in Jesus' name.

Peace!

STEPS TO SALVATION

* Take notice of this:

IF you are yet to take the step of salvation, that is, yet to be born-again, do it now, tomorrow might be too late (2 Corinthians 6:1,2; Hebrews 3:7,8,15).

a. Acknowledge that you are a sinner and confess your Sins (1 John 1:9); And ask Jesus Christ to come into your life (Revelation 3:20).

b. Confess that you believe in your heart that Jesus Christ is Lord, and that you confess it with your mouth, Thus, you accept Him As your Lord and Saviour (Romans 10:9,10).

c. Ask that He will write your name in the Book of Life (Philippians 4:3; Revelation 3:8).

- If you took the steps As highlighted above, It means you are saved—born-again. Join a Word based church in your area and Town or city, and be part of whatever they are doing there. Peace!

[enriquemzn262]

And since we're talking about anime, here's what I'm watching right now:

Demon Slayer season 4: Since this is the last good arc of the manga before everything goes to shit, I'm keeping up with it for the last time, plus Genya, the best Demon Slayer character don't @ me, finally makes his debut, while Zenitsu, the objectively worst character, is completely absent.

Uma Musume: Pretty Derby - Road to the Top: I'm a shameless fan of the horsegirls series, so of course I'm watching this one, the first episode dropped today, and it's looking promising! Also I really like how it's slowly turning into an anthology series, where each season is devoted to new characters.

My Clueless First Friend: The obligatory cute anime I watch to pass the time, and it is indeed cute, if a bit formulaic, but I really like both main characters so I'm watching it until the end.

Heavenly Delusion: I knew nothing about it before getting in, and man it's been a fantastic ride so far, plus it has one of the best animations of this season, not to mention the constant twists and turns. It's a bit horny, but so far it feels natural, at least for japanese standards, plus there's this weird twist many in Tumblr might or might not enjoy.

Gundam Wing: The Witch from Mercury (part 2): Since Wing I hadn't watched a Gundam series, and so far it's been a fantastic ride, Suletta is as awkward and naïve as she is ruthlessly adorable, the animation is fantastic, the best of the season (Demon Slayer's is too bombastic imo), and the overarching plot just gets darker and darker, I love it!

Rokudou no Onna-tachi: I followed the manga for years until its conclusion, it's a solid story overall although it suffers from the usual issue of shonen stories of not knowing when to stop scaling up fights. The anime itself has been a mediocre ride in terms of the animation, but I still love the story so I'm sticking around until the end.

Mashle: Magic and Muscles: More or less the same with Rokudou, good source material but with a mediocre adaptation, and the manga, although not finished, its about to (and poorly too, unlike Rokudou), this one I may end up dropping if the animation continues to be underwhelming.

Konosuba Megumin prequel: I'm a big Konosuba fan so I was really looking forward to this one, but... It just doesn't have the same energy as the OG series, I haven't even watched this week's episode. I may give it another chance, but if I still feel the same, I'll drop it.

KamiKatsu: Working for God in a Godless World: There were so many fucking isekai shows this season, I decided to at least give this one a chance and... Eh, it's alright, may or may not keep up with it.

Overall it's a much more interesting season that the last one, but mostly because I'm very familiar with most of the stuff covered.