#but that was the final straw for me personally

[ahopefulbromantic]

Okay this might sound silly but how AI art depicts Jesus was exactly what made me realize it's awful and made me not want to use it ever again. Because whenever i asked Bing to draw me a Jesus, even the resurrected one, the images all had something in common:

They never had any wounds.

See the reason why this was so concerning was, when i read about saint mystics, many of them experienced visions of Christ, but also visions of the devil disguising themself as Christ. Usually the most certain way to discern it was to ask the apparition to show his wounds. Not only did the devil not have wounds but they also couldn't produce them, couldn't talk or even listen about them, so much did they hate the clearest sign and reminder of God's self-sacrificial, victorious love for His people. I've come to use this one simple trick myself - when i see Jesus in my mind or when i hear His voice in my soul and i'm not sure if it's really Him, i try to ask Him to show me His wounds.

Jesus made by AI never had any wounds. Even when i specifically asked for them. And yes, i know, it's about censoring the gore and stuff blah blah blah, still. I can't help but feel... deeply unsettled by it.

I'll never trust AI art.

i hate generative art being used for depictions of Jesus, like. you care for Him that little? i promise you a child's stick figure drawing in red crayon looks more like God than whatever slop a computer vomits out. a person has the ability to know God, a computer never will

[encircledbythorns]

This scene is so interesting to me because there's more than one reason why Hope said this:

like I think part of it is that Hope is still protecting them even with her humanity off. She's pushing MG, trying to get him to actually fight her so that she knows he'll be 'strong' enough to do whatever he needs to do to protect them while she's gone.

But the other part of it is almost a cry for help. Hope put that sword through Landon because she didn't want anyone else to die, including their friends. She has crippling abandonment issues and has always struggled with feeling alone, so killing Landon is even harder for her than it would be for the average person. And that's already pretty hard as is, because someone killing their boyfriend is insane, so. That would actually break people and traumatize them beyond repair, but she did it to save everyone else. This is the big issue that's always talked about in superhero genres-- do you save the lives of many, or the life of one (the person you love)?

She even has regrets and guilt about doing it, which haunts her when she's struggling with her humanity. But more than anything, she felt alone when she did it. No one was there to support her while she was killing Landon. People around her don't seem to acknowledge how specifically difficult it was for her to kill Landon and what that pain is like, so she's pointing it out right now to MG by reminding him that that's why she's here. That's why her humanity is off. She couldn't take it anymore when she had to do that. It was the final straw on the camel's back when she'd had the weight of the world on her shoulders for her entire life already.

[thestarfishface]

On the one hand I do not want to make a video recounting the story of how me and my childhood best friend broke up, for a number of reasons including not wanting to dredge up old drama.

On the other, I broke up with my best friend of 12+ years over deviantArt llamas, and after having ~15 years to emotionally recover from that incident, the story is so fucking funny.

[leulahart]

sometimes a family is a drunken mentor and his two tributes who survived the war against all odds

[biotic-raptorian-angel]

The room was stark and cold, lit by a single overhead bulb that cast harsh shadows against the concrete walls. Moira sat at the metal table, her wrists cuffed in front of her. Her posture was casual, almost bored, though her mismatched eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the soft buzz of the overhead light.

The door opened, and Angela Ziegler stepped in. She was calm and composed, but there was a tightness in her jaw that betrayed her nerves. Her golden hair was pulled back neatly, and her white coat brushed against the doorframe as she shut it behind her.

Moira’s lips curled into a faint smirk as her gaze landed on Angela. “And here I thought they’d send someone interesting,” she drawled, her Irish lilt dripping with sarcasm.

Angela ignored the barb, stepping closer and taking the seat across from her. She placed a small datapad on the table, but her attention remained fixed on Moira.

“Moira,” Angela began softly, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something deeper—something unresolved. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be Talon’s weapon.”

Moira tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Oh, Angela. Always the optimist. Did you draw the short straw, or was interrogating me your idea of closure?”

Angela’s expression didn’t waver, but her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the datapad. “You’re better than this, Moira. I know you are.”

Moira leaned back, her cuffs clinking against the table. “And here I thought you stopped pretending to know me the day I left Overwatch.”

“That’s not fair,” Angela shot back, her calm façade cracking. “You left me. You left us. And for what? To work for people who’d sacrifice the world for their own power?”

Moira’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but she masked it quickly, her voice turning sharp. “Spare me the morality lecture, Doctor. Talon funds my research. Overwatch never did. I made a choice, and I don’t regret it.”

Angela leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Then why are you here, Moira? Why didn’t you fight harder to escape? Why didn’t you…” Her words faltered, and her eyes softened. “…run back to them instead of letting us catch you?”

For the first time, Moira’s smug demeanor faltered. She looked away, her mismatched eyes darting toward the corner of the room before settling back on Angela. “Maybe I was tired of running,” she said, her voice quieter, but no less biting. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if you still cared.”

Angela’s breath hitched, and she leaned back slightly, struggling to regain her composure. “I never stopped caring,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “Not about you. Not for a second.”

Moira chuckled dryly, though there was no humor in it. “Well, isn’t that touching? You’re still clinging to some fantasy that I can be ‘saved.’ Face it, Angela. The person you loved—she doesn’t exist anymore.”

Angela’s hand moved instinctively toward Moira’s, stopping just short of touching her cuffed wrist. “I don’t believe that. I saw her when you shielded me from that explosion in Zurich. I saw her when you hesitated to strike back at Winston during the ambush. You’re still in there, Moira. You just won’t let yourself admit it.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the room was thick, a mix of anger, regret, and something far more vulnerable lingering between them.

Finally, Moira leaned forward, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “You want the truth, Angela? I hate myself for leaving you. For leaving us. But I’m not the hero you want me to be. I never was.”

Angela’s eyes glistened, and she reached out, her hand finally resting atop Moira’s. “You don’t have to be a hero. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me.”

Moira’s gaze dropped to their hands, her mismatched eyes narrowing as if trying to discern a hidden trap in Angela’s words. “You always did have a talent for making the impossible sound plausible,” she muttered, though her tone lacked its usual venom.

Angela’s lips curved into a soft smile, and she gave Moira’s hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s because I believe in you. I always have.”

For the first time in years, Moira felt something crack in the armor she’d so carefully built around herself. She didn’t know if it was hope or dread, but the weight of Angela’s unwavering faith in her was impossible to ignore.

The silence between them stretched, heavy with unresolved feelings and unspoken promises. And in that silence, both of them knew the conversation wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

Had a silly little thought of Moira being contained and questioned the interrogation room.

What questions would be asked? What would she say?

[valewritessss]

I’ve seen someone say that Sally was selfish and inconsiderate for telling Percy they need his room for Estelle???

[fluffypotatey]

I said once and I'll say it again, I don't really think late season merlin is a villain, but I do think season 1 and pre canon merlin would think his future self is a villain

agreed, anon, s1 merlin would be horrified at the decision and choices he made by s4-5

but yeah merlin isn’t a “villain” by s5. he falls into more of a gray area in my opinion. like, he is still a hero to me but just with a narrower view on his priorities and 10 years of dealing with your classic episodic enemies who want to kill Arthur

[bloodibambiidoll]

Do you guys still love me even though I’m not a Stranger Things centric blog anymore….

[saints-who-never-existed]

Still thinking about Jopson after the other day and I feel like there's a wee bit similarity between he and David Young that I want to discuss and weep over more.

Young clearly had an incredibly difficult, poverty-stricken upbringing 'at the Foundlings' and it shows in the way that just keeps on trucking until he breaks down completely. Enduring all the hardships and misery of Victorian Britain had been ruining his health so much from the day he was born and had been doing it so insidiously that he didn't even think much of all the horrible symptoms of illness that had been inflicting him. They were simply par for the course. He'd been enduring them all his life.

And I think Jopson's deterioration very much echoes all of that. We know he's from a working class background and endured many hardships throughout his life also whether it be, again, the usual awful vagaries of the time period or the additional mental/emotional stress related to his mother.

Like Young, Jopson seems to just keep on trucking until he breaks down completely. One minute we see him help to lift a whole adult man into a whaleboat and then, seemingly in the blink of an eye, there he is in bed going downhill fast. It's not hard to imagine that his hard life would also have had him thinking little of the horrors his body was going through and being destroyed by.

It's not hard to imagine that he also had been enduring those kinds of things all his life...

[amygdalae]

finding out im blocked by some1 when i go to reblog a post by them is so funny what did i dooooo

[here-there-be-fics]

I know people are sad, I am incredibly sad and disappointed but I want to let you know. Bucktommy is the first time I actually engaged in a ship or fandom at all directly, as in posting specs, commenting on fics, creating a whole damn blog about this fictional couple. It has come at a time where I am feeling overwhelmed because my Grandma is dying, I'm one of her carers, it's exhausting and heatbreaking but Bucktommy was my reprieve from a terrible thing happening in my life. So even though I know at least some of us will still be here and love this fandom, I want people that might be leaving to know before they do - I am really thankful with how much you've helped me inadvertently find some fun and something happy.

Hopefully we will all be back one day...never say never.

[rainingincale]

.

[motionpicturesforcarrie]

should i still be friends with a prospective film major who watched singin’ in the rain and did not like the dance sequences

[rozecrest]

watched love lies bleeding and spent a bunch of time thinking about my feelings https://boxd.it/6eAd05

[leqclerc]

Listen, I’ll come around to it and understand it if it’s something that came from Xavi himself, if this is something he wanted, maybe something he needed for whatever personal reason. I’m just concerned because this is so sudden. I mean, he just flew out with the team to Miami and absolutely nothing seemed amiss. If he was on his way out (or switching roles I guess) Charles clearly didn’t know because he didn’t say anything about it over radio and I know he would’ve if he knew (as is customary for drivers who know they’re getting a new race engineer.) I’m heartbroken that they were “robbed” of this moment. It’s one thing knowing someone’s leaving and being able to prepare and idk having an appropriate sendoff. But we had nothing of that sort here. Even Ferrari’s official statement – just saying it’s an “organisational update” – feels cold and impersonal. I hope they’ll acknowledge him and maybe prepare some kind of sendoff post for him later on but I’m not holding my breath.

Whatever happened it must’ve happened in the past five days. Again I’m concerned and confused because it’s so sudden? And with Imola coming up, one of the home races for Ferrari, mid-season, the start of the European leg – with upgrades due as well – the timing arguably couldn’t be worse. I always said it takes time for driver/race engineer pairs to work out the intricacies of their relationship, to find what works for them. This smacks of the Bottas situation – and he ended up getting a penalty the first weekend he was with his new race engineer precisely because they weren’t in sync, there was room for confusion and miscommunication. I know it’s a bit different seeing as Bryan’s been part of Charles’s side of the garage for years – at least as long as Xavi has – but afaik he’s never been, like, an actual race engineer for a driver. And that’s obviously a whole challenge in itself and will undoubtedly take some time getting used to on both sides.

Again, if something justifies the urgency then okay, I get it. I sincerely hope everything’s okay on Xavi’s end.

But yeah. Disappointing, confusing, very weird.

[july-19th-club]

i do have one patron crush but it's a beautiful sixty year old woman with the world's most chic silver hair she's like five foot tall weighs like forty pounds less than me i could pick her up and she would laugh so beautifully . i taught her how to do peyote stitch at one of the bead workshops and she started coming to our crochet club but ive MISSED EVERY ONE SHE'S ATTENDED. she knows my mom's best friend now because they do food pantry together. she's married . her name is cindy winter . cindy winter i would leave it all for you