#and now have a neutral day

[sillymemes23]

silly illy thingy

finally putting this thing on here

so yeah

have fun with this image now, i guess

[icewindandboringhorror]

On average, what is the total MONTHLY amount that you spend on dining out*?

*(This doesn't only count going out to restaurants, but also stuff like picking up fast food to bring home, getting a coffee on the way to work, getting a premade sandwich from a grocery store deli during lunch, buying a quick snack from a convenience store or food cart whilst walking somewhere, ordering a pizza or any other food to be delivered to your home, etc.)

*(If you often dine out in groups/as a household: calculate and divide the costs so that you get a Per Person average. This is for YOU individually, NOT the total household/group costs)

(I'm sure polls similar to this have been made before (very common topic), I just haven't personally seen one that I can remember, so, I was curious to do my own! I was discussing this with a group of people today and it was very interesting to see how widely the number varied between individuals. :0c )

(Reblog for bigger sample size if you can, and feel free to explain your answer in tags if there's anything extra to add!)

[buttercupshands]

Fell asleep before I could post it here

Stressful week defeated with a result of me forgetting how to draw Siffrin before I sketched again

Too focused to keep a hold on it in a way

So there was this, which I prefer with a neutral-sad face instead

Like this but I thought it was a bit too... That

After that I've redrew an expression from that one scene. Just because Ost said "Here you go "Do You Remember? (Our Country)" time!"

Same thing is why Mal Du Pays are here

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.

[fallenclan]

Beetle you should absolutely make a warriors sona at some point if you haven't already, I would love to draw them hehe - cricket

just so happens ive been meaning to design/redesign my warriors sona for a few weeks now... i drew this version like Once way back in december but otherwise this thang is Fresh out the Oven!!!

now YOU better get to making one so i can draw YOURS!!!!

[unmotivatedwrit3r]

why do we go back?

damian wayne x reader

warnings: anxiety, kind of a panic attack?, implied past trauma/abuse

wc: 800

~~

“I went back.”

“Why? They—”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey, breathe.” 

-

Damian’s brothers don’t text you that often. You don’t have their numbers saved in your phone. Or you didn’t. You have Tim’s now. 

come to the manor now. non-medical emergency 

oh and this is tim by the way 

You don’t even see the text until you’re done with your meeting, phone on do not disturb and notes document in fullscreen mode. It was sent at 1:30 in the afternoon. Bad things aren’t supposed to happen at 1:30 in the afternoon. 

I’m on my way, you text back at 3:00. Is he okay? The response comes as you’re setting up your gps. no. then, i mean he’s fine but no. You pull out of your parking spot a little faster than you should have. 

Once you get on the highway, you turn off the GPS. The number 21 exit towards Bristol and Wayne manor is nearly as familiar as your own. You’re thankful for the dozens of trips you’ve made because Tim calls you five minutes in. 

“What happened?” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. The anxiety that had taken root when you saw the first text is morphing quickly into fear. 

“He disappeared.” 

“What?” 

“He’s not on manor grounds anymore. But he’s not in his suit.” 

On top of the phone call screen, a push notification lets you know that Damian's code was used to disarm your alarm system. You let out a short breath and switch lanes. Your exit is the next one. 

“I know where he is,” you tell Tim as you shift over into the right lane. It’s a little backed up, the way it always is this time of day, “I got him.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” 

You take exit 24 towards the lower east side, then switch to an even more local highway and take exit 8 towards the residential district. When you pull into your parking spot in the cul-de-sac, your house looks empty. When you walk inside, Damian’s combat boots are sitting by the door, not unlaced all the way. One of them is sitting on its side. The other is askew. You let your bag slide off your shoulder to hit the ground next to your own shoes and venture further in. 

Damian’s sitting on the steps in dark casual clothes and white socks with a paint blob pattern. His knees are bent, legs pressed against his chest. Your steps aren’t steep and Damian is very tall. Hands clenched into fists rest on top of his knees. His neck is bent too, forehead pressed against his fists. 

You slide back on the wooden steps when you sit down. Damian doesn’t so much as twitch. You wait for him to come to you. He does. 

“I went back.” His voice is rough but not thick with tears. 

“Why?” You ask. The League leaves him with deep hurts every time he goes back to Nanda Parbat. And not the physical kind. “They—”

“I don’t know!” He exclaims like the words burst out of his chest. The energy propels him up, fingers digging into the arms of his sweatshirt as he rocks on his heels. “I don’t know why. I—” 

“Damian, honey,” You stand to meet him. The emotions in his green eyes are wild, untethered. “Breathe.” He shakes his head at you, fingers curling harder into his sleeves. “You can.” Damian scans your body language and you let him, relaxing the tension in your shoulders and leaving your hands open, arms angled to hold him if he wants it. 

“I’m here,” you say to the hesitation in his eyes. “You’re safe.”

You let out a grunt of air as Damian slams into you. His arms wrap around you tight enough that you think he’s afraid you’ll turn into smoke if he lets go. You raise your arms more slowly, one coming up to rub at his back and the other to cup the back of his neck.His knees buckle. You slow your descent to the ground only barely, saving your knees from catching the brunt of your weight. Your butt stings instead from how hard it hit the floor but it’s worth it when Damian buries his face into the junction between your neck and your collarbone and breathes. They’re choppy loud breaths that come with shoulders shuddering under the hand you have rubbing up and down his back, but no tears hit your neck. 

“I’ve got you,” you whisper to him, cheek pressed against the top of his head. “You’re safe here.” Damian’s arms only tighten further. In response, you hold him tighter too. 

Why do we go back, you wonder, when we know the only thing to come of it is more pain? 

[thatdeadaquarius]

OKAY BUT I HAVE MORE IDEA FOR BLUNT READER CUZ I LOVE THAT AU SO MUCHANDMDJFKSLDKF

So you know how french people's insult are always outta pocket (from a person who's first language is french I can tell you that no other language compares in insult -apart for African languages)

Like,, some "bad" insult here would be : bitch, fuck off, whore,..

Which we can all agree is boring...

BUT THEN IN FRENCH!!!

We be getting creative with it

Eg.

"mange tes mort" wich translates to "eat your dead (relatives)"

"vas te fair enculer" means "go get yourself pegged in the ass"

(yes, we have a specific word for being fucked in the ass 💀)

AND THOSE WOULD BE THE COMMON ONES AS WELL

English could never compare ✨

BUT ANYWAYS

how would the characters react if reader was from france/ belgium/ canada(or any other french speaking country) and started cursing people out like they eould do in their home countrie !?!?

The eay their face would drop

We would make a couple of people cry

AND GOD(us haha) FORBID A KID OVER-HEAR US AND STARTS REPEATING US

Trying to un-teach them would be hell *cries*

Your thoughts?

Love yaaaa~

ABSOLUTE TOP TIER ORAH MY BELOVED!!

Nobody has any idea how much I HATE ENGLISH both for its rules/pronounciation BS/etc. But also, most importantly, THERES LIKE NO GOOD CUSS WORDS- OR LIKE CUSS PHRASES??

I HAD TO PUT THIS GIF BC THAT WAS LITERALLY ME WHEN I HAD THE REALIZATION TO LOOK UP OTHER LANGUAGE CUSS WORDS AND I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY BY HOW GOOD THEY WERE- HOW CREATIVE- 😫😭🥲 ENGLISH WHY R U SO SHITY IN EVERY POSSIBLE LANGUAGE SITUATION-

like idk we got "eat shit and die / fuck off / go fuck yourself" ???? Like- thats pathetic 😟.

I love hearing someone just cuss smbody out their native language/non-english, it’s so badass and cool to see

Anyway u already know i love non-native english speakers from the bottom of my heart✨️

GOD I FUCKING LOVE BLUNT LANGUAGE AU ITS LIKE ONE OF TOP FAV AS U CAN PROBABLY GUESS I COULD WRITE A LITERAL FANFIC ENTIRELY OFF THIS SIMPLE PREMISE 💖💓💗💞❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

omg so i HAVE SPECIFICALLY HEARD ABT FRENCH BEING RLLY CREATIVEEE

and i researched french cusswords/phrases,,,

😭 BRO IM CRYING

“bête comme ses pieds!” IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR-

(trans: you’re as stupid AS YOUR FEEEEEETT)

idk what’s funnier, you translating urself in real time and saying all these phrases to ppl,

OR just scaring the ever-loving shit out of every teyvat citizen within a mile radius bc oh wow- you look pissed, so yeah somebody’s about to lose all their self-esteem for the rest of their life bc ur insults are known to be extra cutting bc ur so blunt-

OH CREATOR ABOVE (…oh creator, present??)- you changed to your holy language FOR THIS???

everybody just giving the npc the most bombastic side-eye for pushing you to do this,

or even just you stubbing ur toe/ate food when it was too hot

or my favorite, getting onto ppl like Wanderer when they do smth silly lmao

STOP I HAD A FOUL THOUGHT OF GETTING ONTO Ei AND WANDERER (like ei for not keeping him/at least giving him to someone else to raise, then all the shit he did as Scaramouche lol)

AND THIS CUSSWORD COMES OUT UNDER UR BREATH OR SMTH- DOES THIS FIT BC THIS KILLS ME:

“Putain de salope…” (whore of whore, I LIED IT MEANS FUCKING BITCH LMAO😭)

JUST GETTING THE MOM AND THE SON IN ONE FULL BREATH CRYINGGGG

STOPPP wanderer using it against other ppl ever since u used it lol

oh no stop dont bring the kids into thisss 😭😭

Klee would deffo be the first one to pick up ur words and use them, omg she just uses them as catchphrases like when throwing her bombs 💀

“Mange tes mort!” JUST WITH A SMILE ON HER FACE AS SHE THROWS HER HUGE SKILL BOMB INTO A FISH POND

Venti would definitely make sure the winds “pass along phrases of the sacred All-God language!”

which just means anyone who UNDERSTANDS YOU JUST GETS GENTLY CREATIVELY CUSSED OUT BY THE WIND IM SOBBINGGG

☆

i hope u guys are having a great summer! its basically too hot to go outside where I am, not unless ur going straight into the water or smth

which hey, ill be doing that this weekend, floating down the river about an hour away from my house with friends! :]

which,,, if anyone sees this, U GOTTA HELP ME THINK OF A 1000 FOLLOWERS MILESTONE THING TO DO IDK WHAT TO DO BUT I WANNA CELEBRATE IT BC I NEVER THOUGHT THATD HAPPEN!! lmk what u think in the comments if u read this!

☆

Safe Travels 0rah,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

[bayetea]

I'm gonna froth at the mouth over this in the tags so bear with me but reason #1278038 why the way rick went about breaking up jiper was bad: rereading her povs in hoo where she gushes over jason feels like even more of an unreliable narrator queer girl comphet psychological horror story

[moeblob]

Rice. From my plot that's literally just a game of chess. (he's a rook)

[mithrilbookofmystery]

god I wish that were me

[gideonisms]

I gotta say though now that I have started working a warehouse job I never want to go back to the other types of jobs. yes I WILL get paid $17 an hour to sort objects and run reports. I'm loving this

[koka-mi]

Oh my gosh whyyyy am I so obsessed with numbers I don't like it at all this is driving me INSANEEEE😭😭IT'S GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS THE DAYS GO BY AAAA

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

ok this is a deeply deeply weird manifesto and i'm sorry but i feel suddenly very burdened to say it so. if you felt like we were friends and i unfollowed you, this is for you. (don't be scared this is not about problems with anyone this is just my mess. that I think is ok to have which is why I'm talking about it)

so I joined tumblr in 2020 when a) the world was isolated b) I had just moved to a new city and was living alone taking Zoom classes in my apartment. what started as a mindless distraction became such a lifeline of connection and friendship! and still such a support as things started to open back up and get busier in 2021, when I was teaching and in class in person but still struggling for close in-person friendships. I know the group dynamic on here has shifted a number of times, as some of you probably experienced from various vantage points. my use of tumblr has shifted too, on and off, as I've needed different things out of it and been in different spiritual and emotional states. and I've kind of come to realize that I probably threw myself in too eagerly in some ways. it was so exciting to have actual friends on here and for them to actually turn into friends in person, that honestly I maybe prized that dynamic too much for what it symbolized over actually valuing the people. I'm sorry for doing that.

anyway, that worked fine for a bit, but as (glory be to God) I've become much more plugged into my in-person community in the last couple years, I've felt more and more emotionally strained. I've taken up a new attitude towards my family that's much more in line with God, but also much more draining as it means I have to just pour out in prayer and love and wait with patient sorrow over some things rather than fighting and defending my perspective as always right and necessary; and then there's the church-related grief my family has gone through over the last year. I've had a very delicate and difficult friendship that pulled up a lot of unresolved stuff from a college situation and felt endlessly wearying at times. I've had another issue from college recur in a way I thought had been healthily resolved years ago. I've had this whole roommate marriage situation that as y'all know is a very weird trial and pressure. My church has been dealing with a strange and tough ongoing struggle that was already stressing me out before I started working there. My small group has been amazing and I've loved connecting with and relying on them more, but that connection also means more fully bearing the griefs of a lot of different people dealing with the different struggles of life. My advisor situation has been so weird and tough, making my academic work really hard, and then this recent church work has been fulfilling but physically and often mentally exhausting. My future location, work, and community is up in the air after a few years of stability. (I really didn't mean to make this a recitation of my woes, but honestly it's really helpful to see it all written out here; helps explain my deep deep exhaustion, I guess.)

If I ever followed you on tumblr, I love you. In a number of different ways. I feel fondness at the thought of you and at your presence; I want to know you more fully; I desire the good for you; and I find my well-being to be, at least a little bit, tied up with yours. That last one is the rub. As I'm sorting through all the callings and duties in my life, trying to identify what counts as changing my tires versus what wears my tires out, I've found that my tumblr dashboard can switch back and forth very unpredictably between one thing and the other. Often it's a delight to come on here and find my friends and the cool things we're showing each other and the joys and sorrows and goofy moments of our lives! But at other times, when what I desperately need is an escape and rest and humor to provide solace from in-person cares, I find myself pricked all over again by the sorrow of the world and the stress of sin--or even just irritated by stuff I find irrelevant or disagree with or don't want to be reminded of.

To be clear, I'm not saying anyone's doing anything wrong on here. The opposite; I love the freedom y'all have to seek out what helps you, whether that's a lot of facts and ideas or a lot of goofy content or recipes or weird TV or music or venting about life or seeking prayer or advice! We all have the freedom and responsibility to determine how to use the tools we have to aid us in pursuing the good, whether the good is a quick laugh or building up virtue. But I think for me, at this point in my life, my duty and calling has swung back towards my in-person connections in a variety of ways, and I have to honor that.

The lie of infinity that the internet offers is just that--a lie. for me, that lie right now is being laid bare in my inability to have infinite care for everyone whose path I cross. I could follow everyone on here whom I'm endeared to, could keep messaging and replying and building relationships, but it would be a lie to think I can offer that love and care to everyone I would like to. In-person friendships are limited by physical proximity and time; online friendships can't be unlimited either. I need to apologize for acting as though they could be, and committing myself beyond my limits; but also, my life has really changed, and I'm not going to be caught either by the lie that online is only worthwhile if it's permanent.

I want to be clear that I value the connections I've had with you. I've loved exchanging mail and phone calls, messaging fun things back and forth, being online at the same time or learning about your day after the fact. Please know, also, that I have gone to war in prayer for you, and I continue to do so. I wish that I knew how to love widely without feeling pulled apart and worn down, by difference and sorrow and sin (mine and yours). I hope God is sanctifying me toward that end. But right now I'm fairly convinced I need to honor my calling to in-person friendships; I need to protect my mind and heart from even little pricks and distractions, so that I can keep my desires in order and use my energy for prayer and Scripture and to do good work and love the people God's made my physical neighbors. I really do love you, and I wish we had infinite time to talk and think together. I'm so excited to be with y'all in heaven forever. And who knows--maybe my life will shift yet again (it's looking likely) and I'll have a ton of spare energy and love and will come sheepishly back looking to connect with you again. We'll see. You deserve love and attention and connection, in person and online, and I'm sorry that--at least as it feels to me--I held out the promise of giving you that and then had to withdraw it.

so. there's all that. My dash is super quiet these days, thwarting my dopamine search but pushing me towards texting friends, towards meditating more fully on Scripture, towards praying over my work and burdens. I hope you can understand and maybe even be glad that, God willing, this is how I'm able and needing to work for the kingdom right now. love you love you

[gingerpeachtea]

i love the small moment during sympathy for the duke where the duke puts satine's sheer robe back on her shoulders. you can kind of see the beginning of it in the last gif of this post by ashleyslorens.

satine, knowing exactly what the duke wants, decides to push her and the duke forward by taking her robe off her shoulders and posing in a way she knows he'll find enticing. she's the one to take that first step forward—which is crucial, considering she knows she's going to have to relinquish control to him in mere moments. satine being the one to initiate is her trying to set the pace they move at, instead of just letting the duke call the shots.

the duke sees and recognizes this, and so he puts his hands on her shoulders and then slips the robe back up her arms and on her body. he then establishes what he wants from her—everything—and thus establishes the full control he'll have over her.

we can also see him use the robe to strip her of her control in other moments throughout the number. about halfway through, the duke grabs satine's shoulders and tears the robe off of her rather suddenly. she plays along, and then follows his lead (a beckoning "come here" motion with his finger). he's telling her where to go; he's the one making the decisions. she still has the robe in hand, and does some flirty choreography with it. the duke then violently rips it from her hands, to satine's visible shock, which she then has to mask in order to keep him happy as 'the sparkling diamond'.

there is definitely more to be said about how the duke uses clothing as a means of controlling satine, but i just wanted to highlight this one instance, especially that particular moment with him putting the robe back on her that i found really interesting.

[julesdap]

thinking about how the rapture-and-bliss…… isn’t really hope. or maybe it is, but it’s hope corrupted, perverted. because it doesn’t give seb and dev hope, only fantasy. it’s escapism. that’s not what hope is, not the same hope that convinced hayward and paige to birth a god, not the same hope that makes carpenter work for a better world despite all her cynicism.

hope in its truest form is a driving, radicalizing force. what the man in the walls sells is the opposite. its victims literally live in a dream. it’s hope stripped of action. it’s forced optimism to the point of destructiveness. and it just drives home the point that no gods in this universe — the biggest metaphors for oppressive systems and capitalism and overconsumption — can take hold of anything good without corrupting it. because a god must feed.