#sending this out with prayer

[rainintheevening]

buddy look, i dont know how to tell this to you but the fact that you are centering your christian religion (talking abt jesus) in relation to a war in which both participants are part of religions who are oppressed by christians is oppression. buddy, jesus has nothing to do with this, youre Personal spirtiual beliefs are not relevant. literally saying this would all be solved if we listened to jesus is literally a) islamophobic and antisemitic b) demeaning (i know the right way and these poor people are wrong) c) just blantantanly fucking callous, like imagine centering your religious beliefs when people are literally dying. jesus fucking christ.

Hi there. So for context, you're responding to my post about Anakin and radical forgiveness.

Why would I talk about Jesus, and forgiveness when there's a war on? Because He loves all those people in that war, and they need His forgiveness for themselves and each other. I'm pretty sure everyone talks about their 'religious beliefs' when people are dying.

Personal spiritual beliefs have everything to do with it—the attacks by the Hamas were driven by personal spiritual beliefs, and the retaliation is driven by personal spiritual beliefs. Everything you do comes out of your worldview, and that grows out of your personal spiritual beliefs. No matter what those are, whether you believe in an afterlife or not, whether you believe God is real or not, whether you belive in absolute truth or not, whether you believe there is right and wrong or not. Those are personal spiritual beliefs, and they will influence whatever you do.

Jesus is the Greek transliteration of His name, which spread the widest among the western gentiles thanks to the Roman Empire, but His name is originally Yehoshua, usually shortened to Yeshua. Hebrew, means 'the LORD is salvation'. Jesus, Yeshua, was a Jew, born in Bethlehem, grew up in Nazareth, preached around much of Judea (present-day Isreal and Palastine). Jesus was the fulfillment of thousands of years of prophecies given to and for the Jewish people first, and then the rest of the world. He was fully God, and fully man. He lived, died, and came back to life all on Israeli and Palestinian soil. He was a real person, and I encourage you to look into that, overhaul the evidence for yourself.

Yes, many people have done awful things to Jews in the name of Jesus, but those things didn't line up with what He instructed His followers to do. The first Christians were Jewish, and Jewish people continue to find hope in Jesus today.

Believing that Islam is a false and empty religion, does not mean I am afraid of muslims. I care deeply about them, that's why I am willing to disagree with them. It's like a person standing in the middle of a street licking an ice cream cone, and they say, "Hey, I'm fine, you can't tell me to move," when there's a dump truck about to run them over. Believing the wrong thing is dangerous. That's why asking questions and digging into the background and basis of your beliefs is so important. And many many Muslims have come to believe in Yeshua and everything he said.

I dunno, is it demeaning to tell people they need help, and I know someone who can help them, because He helped me? He saved me from despair and darkness and bitterness, and He forgave me of all the wrong things I've done, so I can forgive others with joy. That kind of saving, that kind of life is available to anyone. From murderers, to little kids, to doctors, to exhausted parents. Palestinian, Israeli, Canadian, American, whoever YOU are, my friend, wherever you are, you need saving. Jesus, Yeshua came for you too.

For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:16-17NLT)

How is it callous to talk about the source of hope in hopeless times? I'm praying for peace, and I'm praying that peace will come through something so much more powerful than a bullet or a bomb. I'm praying that peace will come through forgiveness and the power of God, of Yeshua who came for Israel and the whole world.

All the links are to YouTube videos, some of them are longer, but I hope you'll watch/listen to some of them, and do some digging of your own.

[vcrnons]

MAIN SLAYER, BOO SEUNGKWAN !

[lavender--milk]

inside of me there are 2 wolves. one wants so badly to worship like 12 different deities. the other just barely has the energy to devote to 1 😭

[imagineitdearies]

~ A Flawed Eternity ~

(AKA drabbles set in the Perfect Slaughter universe.) Thanks to my new author discord community for voting on this one! 🩵

In which Tyrus walks in on Astarion's 'alone time.'

~

Even though they’d cleared the tunnel under the river, secured the fishing hut and passage to sneak into the House of Healing, and had a half-reliable map of the Gauntlet of Shar, the war council had delayed an infiltration for almost a tenday merely arguing over who would go.

With the colder weather creeping in and battles stagnating into standoffs, Tyrus supposed they foolishly thought they had time.

Morfred wanted a larger group to ensure they had enough support. Jaheira said no more than three highly-skilled individuals, to give them better chances at stealth. Ganyl simply wanted to go, even though his entire enclave was against risking their leader, and it took two meetings just to talk him down. Halfred didn’t think the quiet assassination plan of Ketheric Thorm was a good idea in the first place. They all worried that Ketheric’s brother, Malus Thorm, could be too tight-lipped or ignorant of the Gauntlet’s secret entrance to be worth the risk of fighting first.

Astarion had given up on attendance for the last two meetings. But as designated ‘Leader of the Vampires,’ however underqualified Tyrus felt he was for such a role, he felt obligated to attend. Just so he’d have updates to give Astarion and the spawn army below, really. He and Astarion had come up with the idea of a quiet assassination to avoid further bloodshed, so they were already guaranteed a spot in the party if and when it was approved. Halsin was a tentative third in Ganyl’s place, though Jaheira wanted it to be herself who struck Ketheric’s killing blow.

Now Tyrus felt close to giving up himself. He left the meeting before its scheduled end when Jaheira and Halfred started a shouting match about the risks of trying Ketheric's son at the Waning Moon Tavern instead, and Messaged Ganyl to send word if a decision had finally been made. Then he crossed the road past the armory, over the short bridge and around the small, cheery fountain in front of their temporary abode of late, the Last Light Inn.

Tyrus let out a plaintive sigh of relief the moment he was through the doors and could shrug off the sapping weight of the Cloak of Dragomir, avoiding the occasional beam of sunlight until he reached the stairs and could head down to the basement floor. Most of the rooms were used for storage—but at the end, built around the low docks the inn now used to receive war supplies from the east, were a couple of suites that looked directly out over the Chionthar.

He hadn’t expected to find Astarion in their suite, really. His partner liked to socialize a lot more than Tyrus ever did. In their short time here, he’d already been chatting with some soldiers at the inn’s bar, meeting more often with Halsin, and playing enough lanceboard he now could beat Tyrus if he focused hard enough. Astarion was used to crowds, to strangers, while Tyrus still found himself seeking the safety of four walls and a single locked door.

As he reached the door, however, Tyrus thought that safety must have been an illusion as his ears picked up Astarion’s voice, loud and seemingly in distress.

“Ah!—ah, gods—Tyrus!”

Tyrus wrenched the door open in a panic, hurrying inside—

—and was confronted with the sight of Astarion in a bath, pale face flushed, eyes squeezed shut, steamy water sloshing around the fast pace of his wrist under the water as he tugged at his pink, erect cock.

Tyrus stared. Even as Astarion’s eyes wrenched open bleary and wide, his hand freezing in the water, Tyrus couldn’t stop looking. He’d seen Astarion’s cock before so many times—but in his defense, it’d been months. Only feeling the shape of it in Astarion’s trousers when their kissing progressed further, only seeing Astarion’s bare body offhandedly as they dressed. Now Tyrus could also admire how much more lively Astarion’s skin looked despite still being pale, how his half-submerged, muscled middle had softened into looking less malnourished and dehydrated thanks to a healthy diet.

After another second, Astarion relaxed a bit. He waved toward Tyrus with the hand that had a moment before held a death-grip on the wooden tub’s edge, smirking as he huffed, “Could you close that, love?”

Tyrus’s momentary shock at the man’s beauty faded, then, in time for his rational brain to kick in. “I can come back later—?” he started to offer.

“No—no, I . . .” Astarion interjected, only to hesitate. His eyes trailed away for a moment, uncertainty lining his face. 

Tyrus retreated back to the door. “I don’t want to interrupt,” he spoke in earnest, and smiled at Astarion when the other vampire tentatively met his gaze again. “Truly—I’d much rather you enjoy yourself, like you’ve been wanting to.”

“Not quite like how I’ve wanted to,” Astarion scoffed, though a moment later the lines on his face faded. “No, stay here, darling. If you’d like to. I’m only imagining you here anyhow.”

“That’s quite different,” Tyrus pointed out, though he went ahead and shut the door, locking it for good measure before turning back to Astarion.

“Is it? I was just thinking of you interrupting me like this,” Astarion smirked, gesturing at himself. The hand in the water wandered back between his legs and began to lightly stroke as he sighed, “Though in my head I skipped the part where a whole conversation would be necessary for you to join. Bring a stool?” he nodded at the floor just next to the tub.

Tyrus didn’t hesitate to obey. He grabbed a small cushioned one in front of the sheet-covered mirror and placed it so he could sit just next to the tub’s head. His stomach swooped at being this close to Astarion—at watching him stroke himself again, bare and exposed save for the flimsy distortion of the sudsy water.

He wanted to touch him. He wanted to help, or at least kiss Astarion. But he wouldn’t dare do a thing without checking, given how impossible it’d been for Astarion to be sexually intimate since Cazador’s death.

And Astarion was such a pretty sight just to watch, with his eyes shutting again and dark lashes on display, pink lips slightly parted. Meanwhile, his small breaths and huffs of pleasure as he built back into a rhythm sounded sweeter to Tyrus’s ears than any melody. Even the smell of him was delightful. That smoky, musky perfume he always had a slight hint of at the palace was now much more refined and strong thanks to their shopping in the city. It was already a feast for the senses, if not all of them.

But when Astarion’s other hand extended just a bit past the tub, palm up, Tyrus was quick to take it and enjoy a sense of touch as well. Astarion hummed and pulled their clasped hands down into the water, flattening Tyrus’s palm to rub against his inner thigh. Tyrus gratefully mimicked the movement, and next let Astarion’s hand overtop his guide him to gently handle Astarion’s ball sack, eventually taking over to stroke his erection in tight, quick motions Tyrus still remembered the rhythm of well. 

Astarion’s hand stayed cupped around his throughout it all, continually guiding and keeping control even as he sighed, “Tyrus . . . uh, I’ve missed these hands . . .”

“Would you like it if I did anything else?” Tyrus murmured, after another minute of nothing but stroking and listening to Astarion’s heavy breathing.

Astarion’s eyes shot open, head lifting to regard Tyrus with a furrowed brow. His hand slowed Tyrus’s to a stop. “Such as?”

Tyrus bit back the assertion of Anything, anything at all. Giving actual ideas would probably be more helpful, if Astarion didn’t have his own. “Kiss you. Your lips, your neck,” Tyrus started with. “Or . . . here,” smiling as his thumb idly swiped over the head of Astarion’s cock and his partner visibly shuddered in response. Letting his voice go a bit lower, as he pointed out, “I don’t need to breathe, after all.”

“Fuck,” Astarion swore, then gave a short, barking laugh. “This is what four months of celibacy has done to my sweet, virtuous partner? I didn’t think you even liked that sort of activity, darling.”

“I haven’t ever tried it, technically. At least not of my own accord, so,” Tyrus shrugged. 

The air went somber ever-so-slightly at his words. 

"Shall I?" Tyrus asked in hopes of dispelling it.

“Not this time, my love,” Astarion sighed, starting to move Tyrus’s hand again around him. “But . . . yes—kiss me, please. I think I just need a little bit more of something—”

Tyrus wasted no further time. They’d kissed goodbye only hours ago when he left for the council meeting, but it’d been more than a tenday since Astarion had kissed him like this. One of their first nights in this inn, in fact, before he’d grabbed one of Tyrus’s wandering hands by the wrist and ended things rather abruptly. But whatever else Tyrus did or did not feel in the mood for otherwise, he never got tired of kisses—Astarion’s free hand cupping his jaw close, lips so passionately pressing and sliding against Tyrus’s, tongue darting out to taste and in return welcoming him in.

His instinct was to bury his free hand in Astarion’s curls, but Tyrus gripped the tub’s edge instead. He didn’t want to risk the wrong touch ending this lovely, easy moment. Not when Astarion was so clearly enjoying his other hand’s touch at the moment, hips bucking up and splashing the water a bit more.

Sometime later, a small moan escaped Tyrus when Astarion slid his hand back to tightly cup the nape of his neck, angling Tyrus’s head for an even deeper, all-consuming kiss. Astarion’s hand tightened a bit further around Tyrus’s in the water, so he sped up his movements even more—and groaned with Astarion as the other elf wrenched free of their kiss and threw his head back, shouting “Tyrus!” shakily, his cock pulsing in Tyrus's grip, his spend streaking in the water as the press of his bent legs made the wooden tub slightly creak in protest.

Tyrus kissed down Astarion’s neck and bobbing adam’s apple, slowing his strokes with the guidance of Astarion’s hand as Astarion breathed harshly through the aftershocks. When at last Astarion released his grip on Tyrus in the water, head resting against the tub again, Tyrus went back to gently stroking his smooth inner thigh. He rested his forehead against the other man’s clavicle, listening to them both breathe for a moment before whispering, “Alright?”

Astarion huffed—and then he began laughing. A soft, lighthearted, warm sound Tyrus couldn’t help but smile at, and hoped never to forget as Astarion’s chest lightly shook underneath him. Then Astarion’s wet arm emerged from the water and wrapped around Tyrus, pulling him in just a bit closer despite the awkwardness of the tub between them.

“Oh, besides a sore wrist of late,” he chortled, laying his cheek against Tyrus’s head when his giggling finally stopped. “I did start to find some enjoyment, even managed an orgasm the last two times, though. And this? Hmm . . . this is nice.”

Tyrus smiled wider against his chest. Of course, after another minute his back twinged and he regretfully had to pull from Astarion’s embrace—but was grateful his partner quickly dried off and joined him on the bed, despite the fact only Tyrus still needed a trance.

Once they'd both changed and his lover was spooning him snugly from behind, Tyrus thought to ask, “Have there been other things you like to imagine? Any specifics that I should take into account?”

The entire line of Astarion’s body froze up behind him. “I . . . I wouldn’t say there’s much I’m sure about acting on, darling,” he said in a slow, careful voice. “It’s been hard enough just to imagine sex without the thought of a customer, or him, intruding. Once that’s less an issue, I—I should be back to normal.”

“Normal,” Tyrus huffed, shaking his head and hugging Astarion’s arm a little closer to his chest. Being around relatively ‘normal’ people of late had taught Tyrus just how far off he and anyone else from the spawn colony were likely ever to be from such an ideal. “But hand jobs with you guiding me, would you say that goes on the safe list?” he stipulated.

Astarion was quiet for a moment. Then he kissed the tip of Tyrus’s ear, repeating, “The safe list, what a sad state of affairs—but yes, I’d call that a success. We’ll have to see about your mouth. And perhaps, if you’re up for it, I think I'd enjoy some unconventional stimulation, just skin-to-skin.” A beat of silence, then Astarion’s voice came out so soft and uncertain, almost afraid, as he admitted, “I . . . I’d still like a break from anything so performative as full intercourse, if that’s alright . . . and, if you can forgive it, I may still just need time, before I can offer attentive service to you, love . . .”

Tyrus twisted under Astarion’s arm so he could face him—but only to wrap his arms tightly around him, tucking his chin into the crook of Astarion’s neck. Declaring, gently but firmly, “There’s nothing to forgive, and no service to worry about. You have always been so giving, love." Even more softly, he coaxed, "Now, let’s take care of you for a while?”

Tyrus felt his partner’s body shudder in his arms. Then, increment by increment, Astarion melted into the embrace.

“Gods, I do love you,” he whispered in answer.

[vcidheart]

KENDRICK LAMAR | NOT LIKE US

[grahamcore]

getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow and this is how i’m posting up in that chair

[afrofairysblog]

Once again, America is continuing to be the weakest link (especially spiritually)

[peasant-player]

I just saw a YT video where some random people put electronics house hold items on a S- tier to F-tier :

To all of you out there who puts a vacuum cleaner over a washing mashine

I hope you get haunted by a laundry women. Or by your grandma.

And special mentions to:

that one woman that thinks that the fuckin Dyson Air wrap is S-Tier

And to that one man that puts the satisfyer on F-Tier.

I hate you both.

[goldnhourwrites]

ok personal trait i'm giving to heartsteel. whenever i go outside and the moon is huge for whatever reason i text my partner "MOON HUGE." this regularly occurs in the heartsteel group chat. different people do it with different flavors. the twins enjoy it more than they let on partially because they can say whatever they want and nobody can tell if they're serious

[rexscanonwife]

Concept sketch of my new JJBA self insert and her stand, BellaDonna (who will eventually be known as Madonna). Inspired by the song 'Like a Prayer' by...well, Madonna! @sapphire-heart-tippy

(lore dump under the cut, TW for mentions of animal injury and religious trauma)

My self insert (who will also go by Jane) grew up in a deeply religious family and tried to be a good jehovah's witness child that made her parents proud.

One day, she comes up with the power to heal various injuries and ailments, almost to the point of being able to revive the dead. She figures she's given this power by the lord himself and vows to do good with it, but when she's found using them to heal a bird that had been wounded by a cat, her mother falls into hysterics thinking that she MUST be possessed by the devil to have such abilities.

She's punished and shunned by her community while her mother prays for a cure and though she tries to repent her power doesn't seem to go away, so eventually her mother snaps and drags her into the wilderness and attempts to throw her to the bottom of an old well.

Her Stand, which had previously not manifested physically, appears then to cushion her fall and eventually she manages to pull herself out of the well with her Stand's help, who she now believes to be a guardian angel. But not wanting to return home, she runs away to face the world alone, growing jaded and bitter over time. She loses all of her faith, and the power to heal inverts itself, becoming a sort of poison. Something that LEECHES life, rather than heal it.

When she's an adult (my age irl so 25 I guess) she's made her way by becomes a bounty hunter/assassin using her Stand and eventually catches the attention of Dio. Who takes her in and explains to her what her Stand REALLY is, promising to teach her how to properly wield those powers if she agrees to serve him. She reluctantly takes his offer, but starts to see him as a familial figure, since no one else had ever tried to nurture or even accept her gift. Dio is the one who giver her Stand the name BellaDonna, after the deadly plant!

[drasticemotions]

sending this thought to the void, can one of yall logan / wolverine or even adventure time artists draw logan cosplaying finn or finn cosplaying wolverine i need the prophecy to be fulfilled pretty pleaseeeee (and my friend and i would love you forever <3)

saw this video after seeing this fanart of logan wearing adventure time pj pants and I think it would just be perfect in general

[piebank]

call of duty : stand alone complex insp X

[robo-dino-puppy]

saw a tag wondering about my gradient text in captions, so if you've ever wondered how to do that on tumblr... here you go!

fun colors for captions!

I use this site: https://www.stuffbydavid.com/textcolorizer

put your text in the first box (step 1), then pick your gradient type (step 2) and colors (step 3). (I don't mess around with step 4 because you can change all of that in tumblr's native editor if you need to.) once you're happy with the result, copy everything in the last box that says "HTML code for this text" and return to your post on tumblr.

now I don't use mobile or the app, so, uh, I can't exactly help you there, but wherever you have the gear that lets you see content source/blaze/reblog settings etc. for your post, click on that. at least on desktop, it's in the upper right corner of a post when you're editing it. there should be a dropdown box that says "text editor" and the default setting is rich text. we need to switch it to HTML.

once you do that, go back to your post. if you've never seen HTML before, it might look scary ^^; but don't worry! assuming you already have an image (or text or whatever) in the post, just put your cursor at the end of everything, hit enter to start a new paragraph, and paste the code you copied from the website. you can cut and paste the gradient text into a different spot later if you need to - switch back to rich text and you should be able to read everything like normal.

now you might be finished if everything looks good, but what I like to do is save the post as a draft, then cycle through all the dashboard colors (shift + p on desktop, way more complicated on mobile as far as I know because you have to go into dash settings, and I have no clue about the app) to see if the gradient is still visible. I personally use the "low contrast classic" dash color scheme and sometimes peoples' gradients don't work very well with it... if something looks too pale/dark/same-y to one of the background colors I go back to the gradient generator website and tweak the colors a bit, then copy and paste again. (remember to go back into HTML editing!)

let me know if I missed a step or something is confusing! I can try to add screenshots if needed. and if anyone does this on mobile/the app/has a different process they like better feel free to add on :D

[acourtofquestions]

Overhead, the stars shone clear and bright, and though Mala had only once appeared to him at dawn, on the foothills across this very city, though she might be little more than a strange, mighty being from another world, he offered up a prayer anyway.

Then, he had begged Mala to protect Aelin from Maeve when they entered Doranelle, to give her strength and guidance, and to let her walk out alive. Then, he had begged Mala to let him remain with Aelin, the woman he loved. The goddess had been little more than a sunbeam in the rising dawn, and yet he had felt her smile at him.

Tonight, with only the cold fire of the stars for company, he begged her once more.

A curl of wind sent his prayer drifting to those stars, to the waxing moon silvering the camp, the river, the mountains.

He had killed his way across the world; he had gone to war and back more times than he cared to remember. And despite it all, despite the rage and despair and ice he'd wrapped around his heart, he'd still found Aelin. Every horizon he'd gazed toward, unable and unwilling to rest during those centuries, every mountain and ocean he'd seen and wondered what lay beyond... It had been her. It had been Aelin, the silent call of the mating bond driving him, even when he could not feel it.

They'd walked this dark path together back to the light. He would not let the road end here.

[boydykepdf]

& before anyone judges me for reaching out 2 california schools & then complaining abt potentially moving 2 california. it’s bc i want 2 research a v specific topic & am also trying 2 be a realist abt getting a job postgrad which essentially means i need 2 reach out 2 every prof doing research that aligns w mine at a handful of institutions…multiple of which r in california #sad

[iminyourfandom]

actually the worse part of having an au/fic is trying to come up with a name for it