#the inevitability of looking back

[cintailed]

Tumblr loves the Orpheus myth, but I’ve never seen anyone post one of my favorite poems on the subject.

Orpheus, Eurydice, Hermes

By Rainer Maria Rilke

Translated by Stephen Mitchell

That was the deep uncanny mine of souls.

Like veins of silver ore, they silently

moved through its massive darkness. Blood welled up

among the roots, on its way to the world of men,

and in the dark it looked as hard as stone.

Nothing else was red.

There were cliffs there,

and forests made of mist. There were bridges

spanning the void, and that great gray blind lake

which hung above its distant bottom

like the sky on a rainy day above a landscape.

And through the gentle, unresisting meadows

one pale path unrolled like a strip of cotton.

Down this path they were coming.

In front, the slender man in the blue cloak —

mute, impatient, looking straight ahead.

In large, greedy, unchewed bites his walk

devoured the path; his hands hung at his sides,

tight and heavy, out of the failing folds,

no longer conscious of the delicate lyre

which had grown into his left arm, like a slip

of roses grafted onto an olive tree.

His senses felt as though they were split in two:

his sight would race ahead of him like a dog,

stop, come back, then rushing off again

would stand, impatient, at the path’s next turn, —

but his hearing, like an odor, stayed behind.

Sometimes it seemed to him as though it reached

back to the footsteps of those other two

who were to follow him, up the long path home.

But then, once more, it was just his own steps’ echo,

or the wind inside his cloak, that made the sound.

He said to himself, they had to be behind him;

said it aloud and heard it fade away.

They had to be behind him, but their steps

were ominously soft. If only he could

turn around, just once (but looking back

would ruin this entire work, so near

completion), then he could not fail to see them,

those other two, who followed him so softly:

The god of speed and distant messages,

a traveler’s hood above his shining eyes,

his slender staff held out in front of him,

and little wings fluttering at his ankles;

and on his left arm, barely touching it: she.

A woman so loved that from one lyre there came

more lament than from all lamenting women;

that a whole world of lament arose, in which

all nature reappeared: forest and valley,

road and village, field and stream and animal;

and that around this lament-world, even as

around the other earth, a sun revolved

and a silent star-filled heaven, a lament-

heaven, with its own, disfigured stars —:

So greatly was she loved.

But now she walked beside the graceful god,

her steps constricted by the trailing graveclothes,

uncertain, gentle, and without impatience.

She was deep within herself, like a woman heavy

with child, and did not see the man in front

or the path ascending steeply into life.

Deep within herself. Being dead

filled her beyond fulfillment. Like a fruit

suffused with its own mystery and sweetness,

she was filled with her vast death, which was so new,

she could not understand that it had happened.

She had come into a new virginity

and was untouchable; her sex had closed

like a young flower at nightfall, and her hands

had grown so unused to marriage that the god’s

infinitely gentle touch of guidance

hurt her, like an undesired kiss.

She was no longer that woman with blue eyes

who once had echoed through the poet’s songs,

no longer the wide couch’s scent and island,

and that man’s property no longer.

She was already loosened like long hair,

poured out like fallen rain,

shared like a limitless supply.

She was already root.

And when, abruptly,

the god put out his hand to stop her, saying,

with sorrow in his voice: He has turned around —,

she could not understand, and softly answered

Who?

Far away,

dark before the shining exit-gates,

someone or other stood, whose features were

unrecognizable. He stood and saw

how, on the strip of road among the meadows,

with a mournful look, the god of messages

silently turned to follow the small figure

already walking back along the path,

her steps constricted by the trailing graveclothes,

uncertain, gentle, and without impatience.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

this_is_stupid.mp4

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[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!)

[ruporas]

can’t talk about it

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic starts with the sounds "thud, thud, click". Vash, mid-action of peeling an apple, turns to the sound, noticing who it was that entered, and says, "Oh, Wolfwood, you're back." He resumes back to his apple in the next panel as he speaks, "Where'd you go? You snuck out of bed quickly this morning..." Wolfwood's hand then enters the panel, hovering over Vash's cheek and Vash looks up as Wolfwood asks, "Can I?" Vash responds, "Not going to talk about it?" while using a hand to gently hold Wolfwood's hovering hand and presses a kiss to his inner palm.

Vash then gets up fully, setting down the knife down on the table and the apple onto a plate, He leans into Wolfwood as Wolfwood explains, "Had to meet someone. Nothing interesting to talk about." Vash kisses Wolfwood's left cheek and a hand moves to cup his other cheek while muttering, "You're being vague." Wolfwood says neutrally, "If yer really that curious, keep askin'. We  can talk about that instead of doing this." Vash leans back and responds, "Let's talk after, since... You look so tired."

The panel pans to a close up of Wolfwood's downcast eyes, bags heavy underneath his eyes. He doesn't allow Vash to sit in that moment for long though, then saying, "Yer not helping, Spikey. Being all slow with it... I could fall asleep right now." He moves his hand to start unclasping Vash's coat, starting from his collar. Vash with red cheeks, responds briskly, "Oh, shut up. I'm worried about you. I can't be worried?"

The final shot shows Wolfwood's back to the viewer while Vash's softened expression can be seen as he holds gently onto the side of Wolfwood's face and a hand firm on his waist. Wolfwood responds, "I'm fine, seriously," pausing for a moment before continuing, "Is it okay to still..?" Vash responds, "Yeah, it's okay."

The next image is a shot from later that night after the previous comic. Vash and Wolfwood are now in bed, half naked. Wolfwood's buries his face into Vash's chest, his arms wrapped around him, while Vash is petting at his hair. Vash reminds him, "Hey. You said we'd talk about it." Wolfwood pauses for a moment before piping up, "In the morning? I'm sleepy." Vash says, "Okay..."

The next two pages start from the morning after. Wolfwood is already fully awake, pulling on his outer jacket as he says to Vash, whos' still bundled in his blankets, "Breakfast is on the table. Make sure to eat it. I'm going to grab some things in town and then we're leavin'. Got it?" Vash says, "Mh." Wolfwood responds, "Good. See ya in a bit." The dialogue starts to shift into Vash's inner thoughts now, as he gets up and eats toast, thinking, "Wait. Weren't we supposed to... talk about it?" The next shot then shows him fully up, meeting Wolfwood in town. He carries a half worried expression with him while Wolfwood slides on his glasses for him. A quick panel shows Wolfwood's tired expression from the night before and quickly juxtaposes with Wolfwood in front of him who's smiling gently, the shades covering his eye bags. Wolfwood asks him, "Still not awake yet?" Vash pauses, his thoughts stirring, thinking, "Oh. I guess I was getting ahead of myself... thinking you owe me that kind of honesty." He smiles at Wolfwood and responds, "I'm awake!" His thoughts continue, "Maybe one day, you'd trust me enough to share your burdens."

The final image shows Wolfwood pulling at Vash's cheek and Vash complains, "Owwwww why..." Wolfwood quickly says, "You were thinking something stupid, right? It's all over yer face." Vash mutters, "Nooo, I wasn't..." END ID]

[star2stop]

GUESS WHOS BACK W MORE ASK-SPIDERPOOL FANART?? THATS RIGHT MOTHERFUCKERS!! ME. GET HIT W MS. LOVE FANART💥💥💥💥💥

[cozylittleartblog]

peridot my beloved ace green bean.

this is a redraw from 2022 of art I made in 2017! the original is under the cut, if redraws fascinate you as much as they do for me.

keychain || sticker

...the redbubble copy had the "YOU'RE ALL CLODS!" on it, I apparently never saved a "public" version that said that lmao

[fumifooms]

Marcille’s dungeon lord outfit is about being stuck in an inbetween

Kui combined a dress from her mother with a hat for children. It’s adulthood vs childhood. The dress is tallman fashion while the earmuffs are elven. It’s about emotions and maturity. Stability and instability. Growing & potential vs having grown & knowing yourself. It’s about her cultures and expectations and how can she possibly keep up with all of them, like the genius child she was portrayed as? It’s duality it’s conflict it’s being pulled in opposite directions. It’s about identity.

Marcille wants to have all the answers and wants them all already, she already acts like she has everything figured out more often than not, when it comes to ways to harvest mandrakes or her image of Falin and Chilchuck and orcs or her rigid sense of ethics, but the story does show that she had growing to do, plus her main goal beyond keeping her friends safe and near her is that pursuit of knowledge for what she doesn’t yet have answers for— rewriting the laws of life and death. But, as we’ve all been told before, death is simply a part of life and we have to make our peace with that one way or another. Like Marcille says in the last chapter, this was in large part the lesson and arc she’s had to go through. A lesson that Marcille’s mother has learned herself, one that she has accepted and tried to pass on to her daughter, which didn’t work and kickstarted Marcille’s pursuit of extending lifespans. Marcille has to settle with uncertainty, with knowing life can end at any moment and knowing this is who she is even if the world has no answers for her as to what that means, she has to come to terms with ambiguity and inbetweens.

Marcille’s relationship with her mother is very interesting because it’s shown all in small moments and implications, but we do see that Marcille’s mom is arguably her biggest role model.

She’s the one who shows up in Marcille’s nightmare about monster food early on, she is who told Marcille she’ll have to bear loss througout her life due to her lifespan, Marcille wears a choker like she does, it’s debatable that Marcille mimics her demeanor to seem more elven and dignified, in Marcille’s true nightmare she hides behind a portrait of her, she was the only living elven role model Marcille had around. Mother, who didn’t let grief over her husband rule the rest of her life, having even remarried, mother, who’s a court mage, mother, who pursued a life she wanted even if it cost her. And we do know being an elf is important to Marcille! She seeks to conform to elven beauty standards rigidly, both in gender presentation and things like facial hair, and she’s masked as one since she was enrolled in the magic academy, as far as we know her first time away from home and her first big period of social contact since she isolated herself with chickens and books when she was younger, because she had no peers. Books like the daltian clan, with an aestheticized all elven cast with the one exception of the half-elf character she deeply related to.

Marcille’s bangs are also half down and half cut. Before she had to cut some hair to make familiars, long bangs were what Marcille wore for years, meanwhile in all of Marcille’s childhood flashbacks including at the magic academy her bangs were always cut short. As we know, hair is important to elves. Her hair is elfness. Her hair is elegance. Her hair is her age. Her bangs are uneven now. It’s part of accepting her precarious weird spot in an inbetween, half up half down haircut. Acceptance on her own aging, that there’s no empiric answer for what Marcille’s equivalent age is in elf or tallman or other, maybe just a ballpark if even that. Answers which are what she’s most desperate to know. What do you mean that student over there has got an astronomic result on her dungeoneum and what do you mean she doesn’t really care for how you did it? Falin who’s thus showing her another way to be, with less self-made pressure, that you can just go with the flow- that you can just… Be.

Her hair being all down and messy as a dungeon lord is part of making the characters and audience understand that Marcille is out of it, but… Like her barefootness there’s some flexibility it implies, for Marcille who’s so rigid on appearance. Accepting her hair to be messy, a sort of shedding of who she is even as she’s overdressed and trying so hard to look like something she doesn’t feel as.

That’s why her outfit makes her feel courageous. Because it makes her feel different from who she is otherwise, because it grants her a look she feels naked without, even with barefeet and messy hair. It’s externalizing how she’s been trying to hold it all together and all her confliction and her feelings, offering some catharsis, no more hiding herself, she’s a half-elf trying to do dark magic. Clean Marcille, clean clean Marcille— Overthinking the dressing, the superficial the aesthetic, without looking enough at the body it’s covering up, the laws of the world the ecosystem of the dungeon the opinions of her friends’— what’s standing right in front of her face, the underlying thing holding up the rest of what she’s trying to change, what’s truly important. She’s back to being like with meeting Falin, overfocusing on the details and the nitpicks and the theorics while oblivious to the slimes and the bats and the balance of mana in that small cave dungeon. She has the dress and the hat but as a whole she doesn’t look like a slay queen or a princess or a cool sorceress or even like her mother, she just looks like a mess. 

Ultimately after calming down, she takes the earmuffs off. She lays down her childhood trauma and leaves behind its grip on her and moves forward in the dress, with maturity and emotional intelligence and logic to deal with her current situation instead of coping mechanisms and desperate grasps for control. And then when the dungeon lord becomes Laios her dress poofs, she’s in her very plain pajamas, plain Marcille, and it’s that Marcille who goes forward to help Laios save the world and defeat the demon. Hence why post-canon she starts dressing in similar dresses to her mother as well, and starts wearing more black. Black here is a color associated with her mother. She keeps her own touch and color here and there, like her red choker instead of a black one, but it’s a stark and sudden difference. She’s matured.

Her dungeon lord outfit is a coming of age outfit in a very literal way. A bridge between childhood and adulthood. We see her struggle metaphorically between the past and the future, moving on or holding onto trauma. The dress, from her mother, with cleavage and low cut sleeves and a lace gap going down to her stomach and a very short risqué skirt cut, represents maturity but it was very purposefully contrasted with the earmuffs, a childish piece of accessory associated with youth. This shows her mental state, battling with her emotions, wildly fluctuating between her academic put-together powerful self and the childish emotional outbursts the pressure is causing. Time moves on too fast but she’s not growing up fast enough to keep up or make the academic breakthroughs she wants— time is always running out and she’s both too young or too old she’s pulled in both directions and she can never be up to standards. It represents her struggle with her lifespan, her struggle to fit in, to know who she should be and what she should be doing.

Her friends aren’t afraid to say it like it is and bring back her feet to the ground instead of up in the clouds of fantasy and power, from where she was, her feet back on the dirt of where they are right now instead of the theorics of "when" and "then" and "forever". She’s weird, she’s unique, in some ways she doesn’t fit in with any group anywhere, and that’s ok and she’s accepted that it doesn’t mean she can’t feel belonging and joy as herself with her flawed friends in a flawed world. After all they did stick with her even after seeing her whole tantrum and embarrassing breakdown makeover. Personally I do say, slay queen.

You’re still here? If you’d like a full look at Marcille’s dunlord outfit, I made an entirely too long analysis of it here, this is just an excerpt of the most canon section.

[exilethegame]

In my head I just imagine little MC and little Syfyn coming up with increasingly elaborate schemes in order to sneak out of the castle and spread their mayhem. Probably much to the exasperation of the adults in their lives

This is literally so incredibly canon

[camthecatchameleon]

ah i can finally post these

also all of these were drawn before i caught up to the most recent episode (49) so if anything i've drawn is overly close to existing art i'm sorry but i straight up would not have known smiley face uhhhhhh anyways

^ i dont know that the fuck was wrong with my but i did this with a 1px lineart.

source: this post

below: a bunch of doodles in my (digital) latin textbook

also: a bunch of notebook doodles during japanese school yes i have a problem

[akemiiya]

if sif's island is still physically there, there could be an argument that the inhabitants are also still there and perfectly fine, and the island is just separated from the outside world. the island's separation from the rest of the world happened while sif was on that boat after running away from home. so in this theoretical situation, from sif's parents' pov, they actually ran away and never came back.

do you think their parents ever wonder what happened to them or what he's doing now. if he's living his life away from them in the outside world, eating all the non-veggies to his content, or if something bad happened and that's why they never came back. do you think they tried to go after him, but forgot everything immediately after leaving the island, and are now just living their lives in vaugarde or somewhere else, not knowing that they got there because they went looking for their missing child or that they had a child in the first place. do you think they ever ran into each other at some point and had no idea of their relation to one another.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

chat if i may speak

[realtapiocafan]

justin jefferson/ja'marr chase - in another universe we're still best friends

the two best wide receivers, in college and in the nfl

💛💜

Carissa Potter // Cocaine Jesus, Rainbow Kitten Surprise // I thought id know you forever.., Olivia Ruby // Old Friends, Ben Rector // Breathe, Taylor Swift // The world is a sphere of ice and our hands are made of fire, Ritika Jyala // How to Lose a Friend, Wafia // I Still Forget We’re Not Even Friends, Trista Mateer // The Frost, Mitski // The Underrated Heartache, Rupi Kaur // Send My Love (To Your New Lover), Adele // Wrong Side of a Fistfight, Ashe Vernon // White Ferrari, Frank Ocean // Sue Zhao // Poem, Langston Hughes // Welcome to Castle Irwell, Crywank // The Light That Shines When Things End, Iain S Thomas // The Kids Aren’t Alright, Fall Out Boy 

Who will do ‘The Griddy’ first on Sunday?

Justin Jefferson hungry to overcome family’s LSU demons

LSU's dynamic wide receiver group key to newly potent attack

How The Griddy swept over the NFL, and beyond

[mrmeepsmadmind]

starbee comic,,, if u get the reference then u understand a pivotal part of how i see their dynamic

Bee x scream is like if that one rlly bubbly & makes herself seem ditzy and cute girl to everyone to have friends who'll dump her the moment they get a bf & she's probably on the spectrum but no one notices or cares to delve deeper into her bcs she's so 'cute' & smiles & masks to be liked ( bcs she doesnt want anyone to delve deeper into her personality & realize shes actually Not perfect miss lil daddys girl purity ring ) was forced to be stuck with The Bitchtm intimidating weird girl who's also undiagnosed but everyone knows there's Something with her & treated her differently in a way they Think is discreet but She Knows & no matter how hard she tries, everyone's gonna have this Undertone with her so she's just given up on trying to seem pleasant to everyone but still desperately wants to be loved & has a slight clue as to why ppl keep hating her even when she tries for them not to for once but still can't get an answer bcs her life sucks and diagnosis is expensive and she has no time and she's - omg why is this bitch (bee) making her notes all cute with big colorful fonts & organized by alphabetical shade marker collection haha she's so weird (<- is Also weird bcs hes starscream). im gonna ask to borrow one of her favorite markers (the baby blue one) and dry it out while she stares at me with big wet eyes trying to find a polite way to put 'im gonna kill you' in a sentence

[strwbrryfire]

profezia del destino ; a lestappen fic

The evening air warms Charles as much as Max's forehead against his own does. The years of passing touches and longing glances hang in the tiny space between them as Max whispers, "You're a winner, baby. It can be enough, for a little bit."

"I'm a winner, yes. But I'm not your baby," Charles hushes back, nearly coughing over his words; he closes his eyes. He cannot bear to witness the heartbreak in Max, but it doesn't help, not one bit.

a list will be updated here ! :

chapter i. chapter ii.

[emmaspolaroid]

it’s like.. Fujino was so fucking jealous of Kyomoto and thought she’d never ever catch up and wanted to quit, but the art she hated was everything to Kyomoto. and i don’t think she ever grasped just how much Fujino envied and admired her, and that she needed her. she was her only friend.