#but it always has to be the middle way

[scobbe]

I find it very interesting that people generally want one of two things from religion: they either want connection to the divine, or an ordered way of life. They either want to “feel spiritual” or “follow a wise teacher.”

Let me tell you: YOU GET BOTH!!! BOTH ARE INCLUDED!!

A truly spiritual life will align with a virtuous and ordered life in harmony with others. It’s actually when we begin to obsess over one or the other that we end up digging ourselves into holes.

This goes hand in hand with the two great modern misconceptions about religion: “the spiritual is a bunch of malarkey” and “religious morality is oppressive and harmful.” Absolutely true when we veer off into either extreme due to our own proclivities, but the inspired wisdom teachings will always tread the path of a life defined by goodness because it’s rooted in Goodness.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

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[yourdeepestfathoms]

Artemy, with literally every other child in the game

Artemy, with Clara

[anghraine]

Fun fact: Imrahil of Dol Amroth is only ever described in LOTR as Denethor and Faramir's "kinsman", with no distinction ever made between how he's related to Denethor vs to Faramir. It's only later, when Faramir briefly thinks of his long-dead mother, that she is called "Finduilas of Amroth" and we can deduce that the family connection was likely between Denethor's wife and Imrahil, making him an in-law of Denethor but blood relative of Faramir. We're still not told exactly how Imrahil and Finduilas were related, though.

I always had the impression of a certain degree of tension between Imrahil and Denethor, and also of Imrahil being particularly concerned for Faramir, but his exact relationships with them are quite vague in the narrative. A lot of the names, dates, and family connections among the members of the house of Dol Amroth that we now accept as a matter of course are mainly from a separate document published in Peoples of Middle-earth that explains the most probable origin story for the house of Dol Amroth and has an attached family tree. IIRC the entire existence of Faramir and Éowyn's son Elboron is based on his inclusion in the Dol Amroth family tree in POME and he's never referenced in LOTR (and possibly not in anything else, actually?).

Tolkien definitely did imagine Imrahil and Finduilas as siblings regardless (e.g. I think he mentions it when observing that Denethor's natural beardlessness as an Elrosian Dúnadan would be reinforced in Boromir and Faramir by their additional Elvish heritage through Imrahil's sister), but he didn't actually say it in LOTR.

I do think it's important, though, because it's with this later information that Imrahil taking charge of Faramir's fallen body is conclusively revealed to not be simply a prince rescuing a vague "kinsman" of political/military importance, but specifically a man carrying his dead sister's last surviving child from a battlefield.

(No wonder he and Éomer bonded so much, honestly!)

[sysig]

*You’re starting to feel very sleepy... (Patreon)

[reinedeslys-central]

"Leo, not to offend you or anything, but I can't see shit."

Leo scoffed. "Wow, must be pretty bad if you, of all people, are swearing. Hey, maybe it's because -" quick as a minx, he shot his hand out and -

"Wha- hey!"

-stole the glasses out of Jason's hands. Which is. Something you never do to people with glasses, seriously, Leo? Glasses are literally everything to people who need them?

"- your glasses are dirty as hell, bless your heart. Let me get that for you." Leo continued, unfazed by Jason's yelp and raised eyebrow at Leo, of all people, cleaning.

But as Leo's perpetually grease-stained fingers gently prodded and turned his glasses, Jason found himself wondering if that was maybe unfair of him.

Calloused, nimble hands danced over the wire frames, before pulling a microfibre cloth (and how surprising was that) out of yet another pocket to erase each smudge with care that not even Jason gave his glasses.

They were lying close enough that Jason could see Leo's hunched shoulder and furrowed brow, the sliver of petal-pink tongue poking through the corner of his mouth as he gave Jason's old, tarnished wire glasses the same attention he'd give any of his newest machines. He was close enough to touch the stray curl that fell across Leo's forehead, that he kept blowing away. Close enough to smell that old smell, of syrup-sweet grease and woodsmoke and water. Close enough to hear Leo's pleased little hum as he inspected the frame a final time before straightening and raising his hands to park them right back on Jason's face.

"Better?" He whispered, and Jason didn't reply. He couldn't.

The stars really were beautiful.

"What did you do to these?" He said, finally. "I've never seen this clearly before. Maybe on new-glasses days, but.."

Leo grinned. Jason looked away.

Time and space might have a shot at diluting that burning of his. There was a reason no one went blind watching the stars. But Jason would never be far enough to escape that smile. Like the stars, like the galaxies above, it was about as inevitable as a supernova.

Leo leaned over. "That's the thing, darlin' -" — and Jason's chest went thump — "I've got it all. Perks of being the one-and-only super-sized McShizzle."

Gods. Maybe Nico was right when he said there was clearly no accounting for taste.

He cleared his throat. "Well, thanks anyway. Just.. give me a little warning next time. I could've decked you for stealing my glasses, y'know."

Leo only laughed and leaned back against their blanket. The light from the waning moon fell across him, highlighting his nosebridge, his half-lidded eyes, the spot where his jeans hitched around his knees in his artless sprawl.

Jason let out a shaky breath, and copied him, reclining to give himself a better chance at drinking in the sky.

The stars were beautiful. That much anyone could admit.

..Leo was the most beautiful of them all.

outtake from 'burning like a glowing star', this new valgrace fic I'm writing. (yes, yes I am borrowing vibes from xdinary heroes. the song is called pluto and you should absolutely listen to it).

more stuff: Writing Directory

[sitzendetaube]

Season 3, Episode 4, min. 56

Anthony describes Francis' dream as he's sleeping in his hideout under Kelsey's bed:

So my dad comes in asking for soda and I go to get him some ice cream, but instead I am holding the trophy and I'm seeing my reflection in it an I'm seeing BB like disentegrate in the reflection like I couldn't safe her somehow because we gave the wrong trophy and I knew this was the wrong thing to do and then I hand my dad the trophy full of ice cream and when I try to hand it to him, he's my mom and my mom is holding the severed head of the cop that she killed in one hand the shot gun in the other as she goes "you should have done this, YOU should have done this" and she hands me the shot gun and I start to point it towards my head and she goes "No, that's not what I meant, I meant you should be killing people" and I go oh okay cool and I kick open the door of the soda jerk shop and there are just like commies everywhere and I go IM GONNA MAKE YOU PROUD DAD and I start mowing commies down and I'm so fucking good looking and I [so cool bla bla] and I realize I am not wearing any clothes

(I, a non-native speaker, had to do this transcript myself, because there is no official one yet)

...

Soooooo I made a comic (?) out if that:

this was one big document, but I can't post it like that or the quality goes to shit :(

[diamondcitydarlin]

hey i had a wild and crazy idea, just bear with me here bro, but maybe if you're beetlebabes dni you should try not going in the tags constantly to announce that to everyone who is the exact thing you're trying not to interact with. idk just a thought! like consider that we all know you exist, no one who has shipped beetlebabes for any amount of time is unaware that there are people who find the pairing and the people who ship it disgusting. i know that this new film must have all of yall huffing massive amounts of copium to deal with it all, but you could also just, yknow, not interact with it at all. not talk about it. stay in the lane of things you actually like instead of treading on other people's fun bc your disgust with it makes you feel entitled to try to shut it down. just put it in your bio if you feel that strongly about it and move on with your life maybe? choose happiness instead of bitterness? focus on improving yourself and your life instead of trying to play fandom cop every day? just thoughts, do with them what you will!

[clear-what-i-was-seeing]

artists have "draw this in your style", i think fic authors should start doing "write this in your style" where a ton of people write the same prompt but all do their own lil interpretations and characterizations and fun dialogue bits etc

[lucalicatteart]

 sculpted a strange shimmery two headed snail, speckled with wild flowers on it's shell~

[lucreziagiovane]

DAVID OAKES as George Plantagenet in ' The White Queen' (1.07) ↴

"He's got that sort of middle child syndrome and he's also sandwiched between two kings of England, so it's not really fair, he's a bit bitter to tell the truth."

[introspectivememories]

tim and bernard who break up and it's nothing big, no one cheated or anything. it's just their lifestyles didn't work out well together. tim cannot give up vigilantism currently and bear cannot handle the level of danger tim puts himself in. and on the other hand, tim cannot handle the fact that bear chooses to run into danger as an emt bc he already worries about everything but now he has to worry if he'll find his boyfriend convulsing from fear gas in a random alley but also bear who felt the life drain out of darla cannot stand the thought of not helping people and runs headfirst into dangerous situation after dangerous situation hoping that every person he saves can somehow make up for the fact that he could not save darla.

(he very pointedly does not think about the fact that there was nothing he could do because if he thinks about that, he'll spiral until they have to lock him in arkham too)

and so they break up but they were tim & bernard in high school and when they started dating they balanced out the worst of each other and they became tim&bernard. and everyone who knows them, knows that they're better together but they cant be together, they refuse actually because they cannot lose another person to the violence of gotham and by the time they figure out that they cant work together as long as the other is an emt or vigilante, it's too late for both them. they've already left too many pieces of themselves in each other.

tim still knows what bear means when he says "tim" in that exasperated voice. tim still goes boneless when he hears bear say "baby" in that firm tone. bear can still read tim like a book. he still knows the right way to massage tim's neck so that tim can go to sleep. everyone at the first responders gala knows not to bother ceo drake-wayne and senior emt dowd when they're talking.

(and if they're standing a little too close to each other than what is normal, who are they to judge? everyone knows that dowd and drake-wayne have history)

and if everyone on the night shift has caught red robin with his head tucked into the crook of emt dowd's neck as emt dowd runs a soothing hand up and down the vigilante's back, well then, they just quietly back away.

(after all, dowd's one of like, five, emts that can get the bats to receive medical treatment so if turning a blind eye to whatever the fuck they have going on is what allows them to give back to their heroes, then the night shift will do it every time)

and of course, tim and bear are practical people. they loved (love) each other sure, but when your lives are fundamentally incompatible, well, you cant get too stuck on the what-ifs, that's for sure. and so they do find love with other people and yeah, maybe it's not what they expected love to be when they first fell in love with each other. it's not the bubbly, stomach-swoopy, cant stop grinning, feeling that permeated tim&bernard's early days or the i Know you/you Know me that was their middle or the quiet despair that was their end but it is contentment. and in a life with as many losses as theirs, contentment is something they hold dearly

and they're happy! truly! but sometimes, at galas when they're making each other snort champagne out their noses or in darkened alleyways when their clothes are both stained with blood or at rallies for stricter gun regulations in gotham where they both sit too close to each other, fingers enclosed around each other in a death grip, when the presenters inevitably bring up grieves

(worst school shooting in gotham in decades, there's blood on their hands and blood in their mouths and darla is dead in between both of them and there is a chasm so wide that they are screaming to get their voices across and she will always be dead and maybe this had always been the problem that she is dead and there is no coming back from that and that there is blood on their hands and blood in their mouth and blood on their han-)

but sometimes, most especially on opposite sides of the street, as life pulls them in different directions, just sometimes, they see each other and just for a second, nothing too long, the flap of a hummingbird's wings, the time it takes to blink, an electron's orbital, they look at each other and for the briefest moment, blue on brown, a barely noticeable stutter in their steps, the space between heartbeats, because this is all they will give themselves because they do not dwell on what-ifs or what-could-have-beens, or what-should-have-beens, or delusions of a softer world, their eyes meet and they think to themselves, god, in another life, i would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with him.

[fastianini]

Valentino Rossi & Marc Márquez

all i need—radiohead

[qcomicsy]

Do I find Damian incredible annoying? Yes Will I fight every single motherfucker who resumes his entire character to violent and 'bad'? Also Yes.

[figofswords]

i know ive made myself the #1 izutsumi stan in the eyes of all of my friends and probably some of you online people but what if i became a mithrun stan. there is something about him that compels me. i just want to *clenches fist* put him on the drying rack. lovingly stick him into a tupperware for later. make him into. a broth of some sort. do you understand

[crazysnakey]

Something something about the Third Doctor and the fate of Tantalus. You're trapped in one place. Everything you want, that you once took for granted is right there in front of you, you can see it you can reach for it but you can never have it. You will never attain it on your own. Your fate is dependent on the mercy or cruelty of others and you hate it and you rage against it but you can’t do anything, your defiance is treated like nothing but a childish tantrum but you refuse to beg, you won’t get that desperate no matter how long you’re trapped here, no matter how low you’re brought down. You stand among humans and you look human but you’re not, you’re an animal in a cage with them and you’re the only one who can see the bars. Gnawing and hacking at them to no avail. And yet all you can do is wait and hope and try and fail in an endless loop until an outside force interferes to free you from your prison. The carrot and the stick. How does it feel to be on the receiving end?