#problem of sin

[corneliaedits]

taylor swift lyrics. all arts are made by me <3

[poirott]

David Suchet watching Poirot clips on Instagram

- Poirot and More clip, December 8 2023 (also on David's Twitter)

[notbecauseofvictories]

Last post, I promise, but I do think it’s good and important to see local art (defining that term as broadly as possible) but in my experience you have to put up with the little kick of embarrassment you feel witnessing something too earnest, a little clumsy, not polished within an inch of its life or in step with prevailing trends.

I’m thinking of the dance performances I saw this weekend, but also last week’s street festival, where I watched short films and walked through local art exhibits; I’m thinking about Chicago’s outsider art museum, and even the elaborately decorated (ostensibly tacky) yards I see in rural Illinois, but South Carolina and Tennessee before that, and Michigan before that. Maybe I should cast an even broader net: my aunt’s cross stitch, my grand-aunt’s horrible poetry; the art they display at the nearby retirement community and the halfway house too, which comes from the residents.

If you’re not used to leaving space for that little kick, you might turn away or scoff at all this small, fumbling art. But I think there’s value in forcing yourself to look beyond that initial stab of secondhand embarrassment---to actually appreciate the art in front of you as an expression of something deeply human. You don’t have to think it’s objectively good, or even subjectively good. You don’t have to pretend that a local woman with a talent for oils is the next [INSERT FAMOUS ARTIST HERE]. But I do think you have to appreciate it, because otherwise there is no entrance into making art yourself.

And that, more than anything, is worth preserving.

[karalovesallthegirls]

Also have another “first words spoken to you are on your skin” soulmate AU idea where Kara is a journalist assigned to shadow the controversial CEO of L-Corp for the day. It’s a big deal for her to get this assignment, so of course she trips the second she’s near the other woman and tries awkwardly to redeem herself.

The CEO stares at her almost in shock, and then says nothing. At all. Ever, for the entire day.

Kara spends hours following Lena Luthor around trying to fill the silence, but no amount of questions get her to talk. Lena almost seems to be running away at some points - like she’s trying to lose her? - and the few times she’s managed to catch her actually talking to someone she goes silent the second she sees Kara.

She asks around if Miss Luthor is usually like this and everyone looks at her like she’s crazy. Apparently she’s the only one who gets the silent treatment. By the end of her first day shadowing she’s walking away with half a page of observations and not a single quote. Miss Grant is going to kill her.

But that’s okay. It’s fine, this isn’t over. She has four days of shadowing ahead of her and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t finish this with a quote from the woman herself. It’s only a matter of time.

[frownyalfred]

my hot take for today is that some folks on here have (very legitimate) issues with comics but frustratingly make it fanfic writers / fanart artists’ problem or responsibility to fix…and when those writers and artists don’t do that or don’t do it ‘enough’, people lash out at them.

we really need to stop doing that. not every fic is a fix-it by default. and the sins of the source material don’t rest on the shoulders of those merely playing with it.

[the-kirbe-anon]

Are christians against lgbt stuff just homophobes and transphobes by default?

Being against LGBT ideology and lifestyles, yes.

Being against LGBT *PEOPLE*, no.

The Bible makes it clear that homosexual relationships are a sin because it's outside of God's design for us, and that we are either male or female, and whatever gender we are born as, we are forever. (That doesn't equal personality btw, females are free to be tomboyish without rejecting their femininity and males are free to be more *stereotypically* feminine without rejecting their masculinity)

I'm not *phobic* of anyone in the sense that I'll discriminate against them for not believing what I believe.

Are there Christians (or people who say they are) that act in an unChristlike manner towards LGBT people? Yes.

Is that all Christians? No, and it shouldn't be any Christians.

Christians are called to love all people while still calling sin bad.

We are to speak against sin with gentleness and respect to LGBT people, not be rude or hateful towards them.

Also LGBT lifestyles are NOT bigger than any other sin btw. ANY sexual behavior outside of marriage is sin, including heterosexual. People don't get a pass because they're straight.

[burntsecrets]

Guilty as Sin

Pairing: Reader x Eddie Munson

Word Count: 1460

Prompt: Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift

Summary: As the new girl in town, you’ve been warned to stay away from Eddie Munson, the school freak, but the fantasy of being with him consumes your thoughts until you can't tell what’s real and what isn’t.

Warnings: ​​Intense fantasy and obsession, emotional confusion and guilt, unsolicited warnings and social judgment.

You’ve heard it all before. The whispers, the sideways glances, the unsolicited warnings. 

"Eddie Munson? Seriously?" they say, with raised eyebrows and skeptical smirks, as if the very idea of him being more than the school freak is incomprehensible. They don’t know him, not really. They only see what they want to see—wild hair, heavy metal shirts, and those infamous D&D campaigns he holds in the Hellfire Club. To them, he’s the guy who didn’t fit, who refuses to blend into the mundane. 

But you... you've seen something different.

It’s a fantasy, isn't it? Or maybe it’s more than that. Either way, you can’t shake the thoughts—the ones that creep into your mind late at night when the world is quiet, and you’re alone with only your imagination to keep you company. That’s when Eddie Munson becomes more than just a distant figure at the back of the classroom. In those moments, he’s yours. 

You can see it so clearly, sometimes too clearly. It feels real, almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you. The way he’d hold your hand under the table, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. The way his voice would drop when he talks to you, low and rough, as if every word is a secret shared just between the two of you. His laughter—God, his laughter—ringing in your ears, free and genuine, breaking through the walls you’ve built around yourself.

You can imagine what they would say if they knew. The judgment, the disbelief. They’ve already told you who Eddie is supposed to be—a troublemaker, a loser, not boyfriend material. But they don’t know him. They don’t know the way his eyes soften when he thinks no one’s looking or how he’s always watching out for the ones who are as out of place as he is. You’ve seen it—those moments where the mask slips and the real Eddie shines through. 

Sometimes, you think you’re losing it. The lines blur between what’s real and what’s imagined, and you can’t help but wonder... are these just fantasies, or are they memories? Did you really feel his lips brush against yours one day, soft and hesitant, or was that just another one of your wild daydreams? You remember the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way your heart raced when he whispered your name, but no... that couldn’t have happened. Could it?

It’s all in your mind. You’re drowning in the fantasy of him, and you let yourself sink deeper because reality—without him—is too dull, too empty. You picture him standing in front of you, sending a shiver down your spine as he leans in close, his breath warm against your skin. You’ve never kissed him, not really, but you imagine it every time you close your eyes. Messy top lip kiss. How you long for it, crave it, even though you’ve never felt it for real. But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because in your head, you’ve already done it all.

They don’t understand. The guilt you feel, the way your heart aches every time someone tells you to forget him. But how can you forget someone who’s carved himself so deeply into your thoughts, into your very being? How can you be guilty as sin for something that’s never happened yet feels more real than anything else? 

There’s a constant tug-of-war between what you want and what you’re allowed to have. Every day feels like you’re standing at the edge, staring down at the abyss, wondering if you should take that leap. But then you think of him—Eddie—and you know you’d jump, without hesitation, if it meant being with him. Even if it’s just in your mind.

You keep recalling things you never did. The stolen glances across the room, the way he’d smile at you when no one else was watching. The way you feel his hands on your waist, his lips against your ear, even though he’s never touched you. How can you be so sure it hasn’t happened? Because every time you think of him, it feels like you’re slipping, falling back into that fantasy, deeper and deeper until you can’t tell where it ends.

Maybe that’s why it feels so dangerous. You imagine the world finding out, the judgment that would rain down on you. They’d crucify you for loving him, for daring to dream of something different, something real. What if he’s written 'mine' on my upper thigh, only in my mind?  The thought makes you shiver because it feels true. It feels like something only you know, something sacred, even if it exists only in the corners of your mind.

And yet, you can’t stop. You won’t stop. Even if it’s all make-believe, it’s the only thing that makes sense, the only thing that feels right. You’ve chosen him, Eddie Munson, even if the rest of the world thinks you’re insane. You’ve screamed his name in the dead of night, whispered his secrets into the darkness, and you’ve built a world where it’s just the two of you. 

So what if it’s not real? It’s real enough. Without ever touching his skin, you know what it’s like to be his. You’ve built your desires, your longings, into something that feels like a vow, a promise neither of you will ever break. You don’t need to touch him to know what it would be like. You already know.

And then it happens. You’re standing at your locker, spinning the dial absentmindedly, lost in your thoughts of him again. It’s the same fantasy as always—you imagine him walking up to you, leaning against the lockers with that lazy grin that makes your knees weak. You picture him teasing you, something playful in his voice as he inches closer until his lips are just inches from yours. It’s a scene you’ve replayed a hundred times in your head.

This is where it always happens. Where you lose yourself in the daydream, where the fantasy becomes so vivid you almost forget it isn’t real. You can practically feel his presence beside you, smell the faint scent of cigarettes and leather, his warmth cutting through the cold, distant reality of the school hallways.

And then, there’s a voice.

“Hey, new girl,” he says, voice low and rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your heart skips, the sensation so real it almost startles you. You blink, forcing yourself to remember that this is just another dream, just another figment of your imagination. You’ve been here before, conjuring him up in the quiet spaces of your mind, letting yourself believe, if only for a moment, that he’s really standing in front of you. But this time, it’s different. There’s something about the way his eyes lock onto yours, intense and knowing. Something about the smirk that curls at the edge of his lips.

It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be.

But when he leans in closer, your breath hitches. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft brush of his lips as he whispers something you can’t quite hear. The world around you blurs, and for a second, you forget what’s real and what isn’t.

And before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you. Your lips press against his—tentative, soft at first, almost like you’re testing the boundary between reality and fantasy. But he’s warm, solid. You feel the way he kisses you back, his hand brushing against your cheek, pulling you deeper into the moment.

The bell rings, a sharp sound cutting through the haze, and you pull back, breathless. Your heart pounds in your chest, and for a split second, you look into his eyes, waiting for the illusion to shatter, for the fantasy to slip away as it always does.

But he doesn’t fade. He stands there, a slow, wicked smile spreading across his face.

“Took you long enough,” he says, his voice teasing, but there’s something deeper in his tone, something that sends another shiver down your spine.

You let out a shaky laugh, stepping back, still half-convinced that the world will snap back into focus and you’ll be standing alone, as you always are. You turn, walking away as your heart continues to race, the kiss still tingling on your lips. You tell yourself it wasn’t real. It couldn’t have been real.

But then, from across the hall, Eddie watches you go, his smile still lingering on his lips. He touches his mouth like he’s savoring the kiss, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe it just happened, either.

And as you disappear into the crowd, the truth lingers in the air—this time, it wasn’t a fantasy. 

This time, it was real.

[ericas-spop-blog]

All Your (My) Fault

===============

Man, it's almost like Corrupted!Catra isn't really Catra, and is instead a spectre giving voice to Adora's deepest fears!

[yourgoldennotebook]

taylor swift + madness

blank space mv (1989, 2014) / the last great american dynasty (folklore, 2020) / mad woman (folklore, 2020) / champagne problems (evermore, 2020) / still from the eras tour (champagne problems) / hits different (midnights, 2022) / "in summation" - a poem by taylor swift / fortnight (the tortured poets department, 2024) / fortnight mv (the tortured poets department, 2024) / the tortured poets department (the tortured poets department, 2024) / down bad (the tortured poets department, 2024) / florida!!! (the tortured poets department, 2024) / guilty as sin? (the tortured poets department, 2024) / who’s afraid of little old me? (the tortured poets department, 2024)

[slayerdurge]

pre-tadpole durgetash + constant PDA around moonrise towers (that drives ketheric utterly insane)

[biomic]

i've never had a wife before, is this the basis for a healthy marriage?

[sinofwriting]

X

Ok but we need the Lestappen ones

Well... I can't say no

Photo's under the cut (also credit to @lestappenfiles where I saved most of these from, they are truly amazing and I highly recommend following them if you love Max and Charles!)

and of course

[leovz]

' como que se aprende un montón en estos ambientes, ¿no? ' se le entiende a medias mientras se lava los dientes, ¡prioridades! ' por ejemplo ' se interrumpe para dar un trago largo a la botella de agua y enjuagarse. ¿y ese tonto uso de recursos? ¡detalles! ' no puedes usar cualquier hoja sustitutiva del papel higiénico, ¡tienen pinchitos y cosas raras! ' de solo pensarlo le da un escalofrío. ' en fin, ¿quieres saber cuál es la opción correcta? me tendrás que sobornar — con comida ' todavía sigue soñando con un bistec.

[gunpowderdtim]

*staring off into space* they made Ashes white........

[browniesnivy]

Sailor Moon x Yu-Gi-Oh! When I was in middle school, I was writing a crossover fanfiction where Yami Yugi appeared as Sailor Sun. The story was that Queen Serenity and King Endymion had a second daughter named Pika who had suddenly fused with the Golden Crystal. Her parents sent her back in time to protect her from evil intergalactic forces seeking to harness the crystal’s power, and entrusted Yami and Yugi with the task of caring for her. At some point, the villains traveled back in time and possessed Kaiba, who then kidnapped Pika. When Yami and Yugi come to rescue her, their bond with Pika allows them to use her Golden Crystal to transform into Sailor Sun. I never actually finished writing this story or published any part of it, but I was recently reminded of it’s existence and thought it would be fun to revisit!

[the-face-in-the-mirror]

Meliodas eye sketches, anyone?

Thought about linearting these, but... nah. They look better as sketches and they're only meant to be references anyway. And for you're enjoyment, of course. The roughness gives them charm, I think.

I had the insatiable need to draw the boy and his freaky second set of eyes, and how they affect his facial expressions. My freaky little boy, the morally dubious light of my life. And there's a better look at what his horns look like in the middle, there! Wasn't sure what to do with the demon marking in that one, so I just played around.

Enjoy the crumbs of content! One day we'll post the comic prologue on here, I promise. For now, school is beating my ass. But we'll get there!