#source of hope

[dwuerch-blog]

Hope Floats…..or Not?

Many of us are tired and lackluster with our hope. Tired of negativity, political rancor, grumpy and whiny people. Tired of trying to make changes in our lives. But we’d better make some changes because Proverbs 13:12 says: “Hope deferred makes the heart sick.” Yikes! Who wants a sick heart? When we lose hope, we lose our health, our determination, our dreams, and our desire to face another day.…

[krispiecake]

Okay, without trying to take away from the joy we are feeling, we must stay vigilant. This ceasefire deal is 3 phases, the first is a 42 day pause for hostage exchange which is set to start on SUNDAY, as long as Netanyahu’s cabinet signs off on it. The IOF is not expected to fully retreat from Gaza, but stay to ‘mandated zones’. Palestinians are meant to be able to return to their homes, but with Israeli soldiers still there, this is not a guarantee. The 600 aid trucks a day into Gaza during this 42 day phase 1 is still not enough.

THIS IS NOT OVER. We do not know the details of phase 2 and 3, and nothing has been agreed for these phases in writing. We must not get complacent in this moment of respite. Please, do not stop fighting. This is not over until every Palestinian can return home, until the occupation is gone, until all of Palestine is free.

Keep protesting and campaigning, keep donating because aid organisations need all the help they can get, especially in the next 6 weeks, and it might be the only window people get to evacuate. This is a step in the right direction, but it is not over.

sources: 1 , 2

[qqchurch]

still can't believe this is a real scene, lmao

allykin skywoker

[blondebrainpowered]

The Lantern Bearers, 1908

Artist: Maxfield Parrish

[faerygardenparty]

I really try not to be a conspiracy theorist but I’m seriously flip flopping on whether or not I believe Luigi Mangione actually did it, on one hand this guy’s digital footprint is too vast to not be a real person with real motive, but on the other hand the circumstances of how they caught him are so odd that it just doesn’t add up, like, he wore very nondescript clothing and a mask the day of the shooting, suggesting he doesn’t want to be identified, despite this they were somehow able to identify him at a hostel in different clothing without a mask, he not only fled the scene but allegedly fled New York with a fake ID that the police recovered, several days later they found him in Pennsylvania carrying around all of the evidence in his backpack, including a manifesto, gun, and fake ID, the police also claim he had somewhere between $8,000-$12,000 in his bag, yet when asked about it Luigi claims he had no idea where the money came from and suggests it was planted (which raises several more alarm bells because if this “evidence” was planted then what else could they have fabricated to “catch” this guy?)

this not mentioning the fact that I find it really odd that this guy didn’t digitally publish his manifesto and instead chose to carry a physical copy of it around for days

this all could mean that he wanted to get caught but if that’s the case why go to Pennsylvania at all? why not just stay in New York?

I will say, though, that I think some of this can also be explained by this comment on Reddit:

regardless, the circumstances are suspicious as hell

edit: I realized I forgot to mention this part but it’s also so suspicious how everyone, the police, the media, whatever, are all 100% certain that Luigi Mangione did it, I’ve seen so many high profile cases where cops do press conferences and say “this is America, the suspect is innocent until proven guilty!” yet they’re not even calling Luigi a suspect, they’re outright saying he is the shooter and that he did do it, that’s just weird to me

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ignorantia Neminem Excusat

(Ignorance excuses no one, lat.)

"Commissioner."

Jim Gordon doesn't jump. They are years and years into this rodeo, he's stopped actually jumping at Batman's silent approach a long time ago. Yet, Bruce still notices the way his shoulders twitch just the tiniest bit, and his hand makes an aborted motion to his gun holster. Still got it.

The man turns around. Bruce can see the 'must you always do that?' in his slightly narrowed eyes. He presses his lips tightly together in order to not smirk: Batman doesn't do that, even if it's admittedly funny to see the seasoned Commissioner get spooked every time.

"There's a kid that wants to speak with you."

Bruce frowns. A kid that warranted a BatSignal? Not that he minds, but this is highly unusual for several reasons; however, Jim is not the kind of man that would fall for puppy eyes of any level, so it must be something more important than an autograph session or a victim of any of the recent cases.

Besides, the way Commissioner worded it implies that the kid, whoever they are, requested Batman specifically.

"He is a hacker," Jim puts both his hands in the pockets of his coat — he is either cold or uncomfortable, and Bruce highly suspects it's both. What's more, he starts to understand why. "I'm sure you're aware we were trying to track the person responsible for the few recent cyber attacks on GCPD servers," Jim glances at him, and Bruce nods. He is aware, yes, but the case was low-priority — it wasn't even an attack, really, someone just accessed the system foregoing the passwords and clearance levels, went through a few files, seemingly at random, and did a fairly decent job of hiding their traces. Bruce would have even thought it was Tim, if this happened a few years ago, when the boy was just learning the ropes.

Commissioner sighs and looks away, "But when we brought him in, the boy said he will only speak to you, and none of us have been able to make him say a word since." He pauses, a grim kind of expression on his face, "This was six hours ago."

Bruce is grateful for the way his cowl hides how his eyebrows raise. There are hundreds of scripts officers, detectives, and social workers can use to establish contact. Quite a lot of them could be attempted in the span of six hours.

Whatever the kid wants to tell him, Bruce decides it's worth a try. If not anything else, he can at least admire the sheer stubbornness.

—×—×—×—

The kid sitting in the interrogation room looks... younger than Bruce expected. Fifteen, maybe sixteen. He is dressed like any other homeless kid in Gotham — a hoodie and a jacket over it, jeans that look a size too big on him, sneakers with mismatched shoelaces — but he clearly hasn't been out in the streets for that long. His hair is braided into cornrows, and it looks professional, even if the roots have grown out so now it's just messy. What's more, he is missing that telltale wariness in his posture that Bruce has seen in every other street kid that has been brought into a police station. They always slouch and curl into themselves.

This boy is sitting with his back straight. Yet, there's a tension in his body that Bruce can only associate with a battle stance — give him the slightest reason, and the kid will lunge.

He steps into the room.

The boy — he hadn't given a name, and there wasn't a single ID on him — zeroes on him instantly. His eyes are a very pale, almost translucent green: a rather strange feature for a black-skinned person, genetically speaking, but Bruce doesn't dwell on it. Yet.

But then, the face recognition program comes up empty.

As in, 'there's not a trace of this person's prior existence' empty. Not a single camera footage, no records or reports of missing, no pictures, no social media, nothing. Bruce frowns.

"Hi," the kid says, his voice raspy, "My name is Tucker Foley. According to the government, I don't exist, so if your recognition program doesn't find anything on me, that's why."

Bruce doesn't say anything. Tucker wanted to speak with him, and previously, he was only merely intrigued by that request. However, as of right now, he wants to hear everything the kid has to say before asking any follow-up questions.

Because that always present, cautious and bordering on paranoid voice in the back of his mind tells him he is about to get into something way more serious than he expected.

Tucker moves — he kept both his hands on the table, palms open and visible, but now he closes one into a fist. Although, before Bruce can react to it, he opens it again. A small, the size of a flash-drive, dimly glowing green object rests inside.

"Do you know what this is?" The boy asks. He hasn't looked away from Batman's face once; Bruce is not even sure he blinked at all since he entered the room. Come to think of it, even with his tense, rigid posture, Tucker is too still, almost unnervingly so.

Bruce glances down to the boy's hand.

"Yes," he answers curtly, and there it is, the smallest shift in Tucker's face: he clenches his jaw like he's trying to hold the words inside his mouth. Bruce doesn't like it.

"What is it?" Comes the next question, but it's not curiosity that prompts it. It's a test of some sort. Bruce likes that even less.

"A power source," he decides on a neutral answer, not entirely certain what the boy is expecting to hear.

It seems to be a wrong answer because for the first time, Tucker's emotions slip from under his mask, and he takes a sharp breath in, looking like Bruce had just slapped him across the face. It lasts only a moment — Tucker closes his eyes for a moment, slowly exhales, and speaks again, calm and focused once more.

"And what exactly powers it?"

It's an important question, judging by the desperate, searching look in Tucker's eyes. His hands are not shaking, and there are no visible signs of distress, but for some reason, Bruce just knows that the boy's whole life seems to depend on the answer.

But.

"It's classified." Bruce doesn't take his eyes off the boy, but he still fails to see when he gets to his feet; the movement is quicker than the blink of an eye. All he knows is the aftermath of it, the screech of the chair legs on the floor and the loud slam of Tucker's palms on the table.

"Fuck the classified!" The boy yells, his face twisting in an awful mix of anger, hurt and a broken, terrified sort of hopelessness that almost breaks Bruce from the inside. "I need to know what they've told you, I have to- Tell me you think it's just a battery! Tell me you've never broke one to see what's inside, tell me you believe in science! They've showed you the research, didn't they?" Tucker's voice, so agonizingly different from the composed way he was talking before, breaks into a sobbing, almost hysterical laugh. His pale eyes are wide open and almost panicked, searching Batman's face for something he is not sure he can find.

"Tell me you've never seen one being made," this time, the boy doesn't yell, he whispers, his breath hitching and his knuckles white. "Please," he adds a moment later, and Bruce knows this kind of plea.

It's the plea of someone who is begging for the world to have mercy on them. A plea of a boy standing on their parents' grave, a plea of a man kneeled in front of his son's corpse.

Bruce swallows the bitter taste on the back of his tongue and takes a step closer. He sees the boy in front of him lean back and bend his knees, like bracing for impact, but he answers before any more misunderstandings can occur.

"I have seen the research. It provided enough information that I've never investigated further," he offers, and Tucker's shoulders slump like months and months of living in a constant state of fight-or-flight leaving his body all at once. Then, the boy's hands start trembling just slightly.

"Really?" He quietly asks, his eyes still glued to Batman, and there it is, the hesitant, uncertain hint of hope in his voice.

Bruce suddenly feels like not only this talk will be much, much worse than he ever feared, but also like in the end this will be another one of the things he will be blaming himself for. Things he could have prevented if he just tried a little harder.

"Really," he nods, taking a seat opposite from Tucker. "So explain what I've missed."

The boy keeps looking at him for a few more seconds, like trying to x-ray his thoughts for any sign of a lie. But then he blinks — for the first time, maybe — and rubs his face with his palm before all but dropping back in his own seat.

"Okay," he breathes out, evidently trying to collect himself and go back to the strong, focused self, "Okay."

[ part 2 -> ]

[paintedcrows]

"Bill... Can I call you that?" / "You can call me whatever you want except 'My Love'!"

"Ha ha! That's a joke! Everybody loves me!"

Y yo a ti Ford, or whatever. @fearoftriangles pointed out that in the Spanish version of The Book of Bill: Bill says Ford can call him anything but "Mi Amor" instead of anything but "Late for Dinner" and-

...I swear, Spanish translators cannot keep getting away with this

[lenny-link]

birthday gift for the most amazing person ever @homkamiro ♡♡

[drop-dead-dino]

Loved Anyway

Agh, time to be vulnerable ;;.

Kind of a vent doodle, I suppose. Being chronically ill can really shake the way you view yourself. I know I’m not alone in these feelings, so, maybe hearing the truth from the skrunklies can bring some comfort to anyone else needing it too 💜.

In case the text is hard to read: “You are not hard to handle. You are not hard to love. You are not a burden. You are not a waste of space. I know, it hurts, my love. Existing can be painful. But—“ “—good news, I love you anyway! All the mess and fuss of you. All the stray hairs and uneven smiles. I love your laugh, and your sigh, and the way you sing along with the music. It’s all lovable! It feels so good to love you!”

[conflictofthemind]

Take Me To Church-Gate

A few weeks back, I received a tip that Noah and Finn came into Atlanta for a couple of days to rehearse a scene alone together that never ended up being filmed. This was around the time of the convention that Finn ended up missing in early June (and we initially theorized was for the playground scenes).

I since received confirmation of not only this, but that the rehearsal in question was for a scene at the UD church set. The filming never went through because Noah got an eye infection / sty, so the shoot was rescheduled for early August. If you've seen me mentioning looking forward to August, this is what that was about.

The Eye Infection:

Let me link this post to begin with, barring the 'James' stuff who has proven to be false. I heard about the eye infection and my alarm bells rang immediately - I have a friend myself who wears contacts occasionally and whenever they get sties, they're always caused by the contacts. When has Noah worn contacts before in the show? When Will is being possessed by the mindflayer in Season 2.

The church is an interesting location, because it most definitely has to do with Henry as well. When the original countdown for TFS was being posted, there were images of a church - a location that may have been changed during development. The characters most likely go there as part of the continuing Henry investigation.

And we know Henry was exorcised at some point, but it failed. The sign going into the church is also a likely clue to this, referencing Mark 9:29 - a verse about a failed exorcism.

Conclusion for this part: Will very likely becomes possessed again while in this church. My source tells me they usually only do big rehearsals like this for scenes involving action, too.

My opinion is that Will was never fully exorcised either. I mean, he still has a clear connection to the mindflayer with all the tingles on his neck and the possible literal psychic connection he has to Vecna as well.

It's Byler, Too:

I suspect that Jamie has some part in the scene as well (given they scheduled it during his latest block on set), but the focus is on Will and Mike - being the only two other main characters on set at the time, and the only two rehearsing.

But going back to the church thing.... I wonder what kind of symbolism is created by bringing two gay characters who both have a lot of internalized shame into a location that is honestly the source of said shame? It's honestly not even symbolism. It might just be referenced in plain text. Looking back at that church sign:

"This kind cannot be driven out by anything but prayer"

"This kind" really evokes the dehumanising language used by homophobes to refer to gay people. And the driven out by prayer part, well that really evokes conversion 'therapy' practices of praying the gay away. So what if this is where Will and Mike finally admit their love for each other, and kiss. And what if that is actually what's able to drive the 'demon' away - gay love.

Especially during the Satanic Panic arc we are sure to see come full circle with the reckoning of the Hellfire Club in Season 5.

An arc which Mike is surely at the centre of as well, being not only a Hellfire Member in the past, but being family to the new disappeared child in town.

And it's not like Mike's love is what's been shown to us time and time again as the way to break Will out of his mindflayer trance. Oh, wait.

Consider it incredibly fanfic-y, but it's on the table now. An action scene at the church involving Byler where Noah is wearing contacts - Will becoming possessed just like Henry again and being made to fight Mike as not only part of the plan to get all of the Wheelers, but also as something that would break Will's spirit permanently. They're all alone with nobody to help save Mike. But the plan is thwarted through the power of love, and in a place that represents a lot of shame for gay men (especially in the 80s) - they finally come together. And it is love that frees Will from his trance. Whether through a confession or true love's kiss. It would be so dramatic and atmospheric.

Additional evidence:

Jopper's Season 4 reunion and kiss inside the Russian church, of which this would be a parallel.

The whole idea of "we kissed, as though nothing could fall. And the shame was on the other side" from David Bowie's Heroes - the shame being in the actual church from the rightside up, but they're alone together on the other side / in the Upside Down.

It is also very likely that this scene is from Episode 5 or 6. I've asked and nobody seems to know which episode it is from, but following the logic of Episode 4 being when the characters enter in groups into the Upside Down, and here Byler are all alone, it is definitely after some time has passed and groups have split further. They're definitely not having any kind of confession in the first half of the season, so this timing sounds positive.

Multiple rehearsals. Noah contacting his acting coach recently for advice. Them even having to cancel an entire shoot because of a sty indicates close-up shots for sure.

Anyway. I'd really love to see people's thoughts on this. I feel like there's even more I could get into in follow-up posts, especially if other people chime in with their thoughts. I have been buzzing about this scene for weeks now. I want to start another gate for old time's sake, so please use #churchgate if you want to make your own posts about this!

[dwuerch-blog]

Healing Waters

I saw this photo I took years ago on my timeline, and here comes today’s blog. I remember those waters. My daughter and I were in a kayak in Broken Bow Lake, OK. I was looking back from whence we came. We maneuvered ourselves around that obstruction, away from those rushing waters. Rushing waters, still waters, healing waters. Whatever waters we are in today, I pray they are life-giving waters.…

[rainbowsuitcase]

Bilingual Ice, my beloved. Translating Polish idioms word for word, randomly switching languages when he's tired around people he feels comfortable with, calling things Polish terms because they fit better, and getting frustrated when no one understands and there's not a good enough English equivalent.

Slider has known him long enough that he understands what he's trying to say and just nods along, he basically has A1 level Polish at this point, and he's helping Mav learn all the Ice-isms.

Ice who swears in Polish when the situation really calls for it. One time, a lieutenant walked to his office and overheard him muttering God knows what - didn't understand a word, only that it sounded so fucking angry that he figured his request can wait.

Ice who, as is the age old curse, forgets words sometimes, and Mav would never dare make fun of him for it, unless he's really desperate for something to deflect with.

Like when Ice is yet again lecturing him on how he should drive his own damn bike, except this time it's kind of different, because Ice sounds genuinely worried, more than before, and it's a hell of lot harder to just dismiss him.

But then Ice shuts up in the middle of a sentence. He's taken a quick breath to continue angrily, says, "You need-!" and then nothing. He opens his mouth on a word that isn't coming and Mav really needs a way out of here, so he dares to smile.

"I need to what?"

"Odpierdol się," Ice mutters, which is a phrase Mav is more than familiar with. Fuck off.

A saving grace, for both of them, probably, comes in the form of Slider casually strolling through the door. He lifts an eyebrow at the two of them standing in the middle of the room, and Ice huffs as he gives up on trying to remember the word he wants on his own.

"Slider," he says, still somehow keeping up the exasperated tone he was using on Mav. "Kask."

Slider grins wide. "He's yelling at you to wear a helmet again, huh?"

Ice throws his hands up. "He might not be so lucky the next time he crashes!"

"You crashed?"

Oh no, this is not working out the way Mav wanted it to, at all. "I didn't!" he tries to defend himself. "I just got scraped!"

"You fell off the bike!" Ice reminds him rudely. "You need to wear- the goddamn thing!"

Mav grabs onto the slightest hesitation in his voice like a drowning man scrambling for the last inch of the rope. "You mean the helmet?"

"Yes! The fucking helmet!"

Mav looks to Slider for help, truly a last ditch attempt, but he just shakes his head. "You really should, you know."

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

Roxy: and for my next trick i'm gonna cherrsh you always

Roxy: *cherish

Roxy: i'll need a volunteer from the audience for this one

[lunar-years]

what's so clever about Clara Bow is that when she references her own name at the end, she's not talking about the present but the future, quoting the inevitable way people are going to one day talk about her, imagining it will only be in regards to the woma(e)n who surpass her. because there will be someone who surpasses her, eventually. that's the cycle of fame, isn't it? we're simultaneously captivated by the alluring trick of the past while looking for the next big thing. we compare current stars to the lights that shined before them, "you look like taylor swift." but we're also constantly waiting for someone new and greater to take the crown and captivate us anew, "you've got edge she never did." And half the song is about acknowledging that being revered is hell on earth for the people who are in it, because you're always trapped between what came before and what will come after. you're only safe insofar as you remain shiny. But the real beauty of the song is that it never succumbs to this dichotomy, but embraces it. It's Taylor acknowledging she wouldn't be who she is were it not for the women who came before her, who shared the same dreams, and recognizing her place in the chain of the women who will come after. The future's bright, dazzling.

[doctahchang]

she WILL cry

[altumvidetur]

Julian: So, what's your favorite hobby?

Garak: Stalking.

Julian:

Julian: I like darts and spy holonovels.

Garak: I know.