#...for now

[ox24g]

He's fine, don't even worry about him.

[morebird]

[queenlucythevaliant]

Just to clarify my thoughts (since I've had a number of people ask me about it) re: Job and cursing God. There's a big difference between cursing God as used in Scripture and how we generally would think of cursing at God today.

Cursing someone, in the Bible, has a lot of depth to it. It's not just saying "screw you " in anger, it's got a sense of forsakenness to it. It's the opposite of a blessing, a removal of blessing. If the blessing is presence, your face shining on the person you're blessing, then a curse is absence. In some translations, Job's wife tells him to "renounce God and die," which I honestly think makes a lot more sense to modern ears.

Job says a lot of unpleasant things to and about God in his anger and grief. So do the Psalmists. A number of the Prophets. So can we. God can take it if we come to him with honest expressions of our emotion, including those not-so-nice ones directed at him. I don't think there's anything wrong with getting mad at God and saying, "How dare you, you bastard" when you suffer unjustly. You can say much worse, I think, without sinning, though I don't feel particularly inclined to give examples. But as long as it's an honest expression of your heart, I think you're doing exactly what prayer is for. You're presenting him your heart with an open hand. He can use that. Opposite of love is not hate but indifference, etc.

Job doesn't renounce God. Neither should we. But I think when you're truly suffering, you're gonna have those feelings toward God either way. He'd rather you address them with him directly than try to avoid them. Cursing at God in the modern sense is actually a great way to keep the relationship strong and not end up cursing/renouncing him in the Biblical sense.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Riot Kings, page 222

first // prev // next

[whimsy-engaged]

He'll beat you up three times a day

SQQ | LBH | SQH | SY | AP

[lyss-sketchbox]

Welcome to your daily dose of 'What kind of bullshittery that wriolette artist is on today?'

Specialties. So now you know you need to cook something roughly 700-800 times to get 100 specialties.

Now i wait for sigewinne :)

[mortallychaotickingdom]

⚠️AL SPOILERS DOWN HERE, open at your own risk⚠️

(Lately I'm being more cautios than usual since a fellow italian pl fan who's playing AL for the first time followed this messy blog a few days ago so... gotta be careful not to spoil the juicy stuff 👀)

Why if I have to imagine a post-AL Des I always imagine him as some kind of hot mafioso-looking guy?

(The first person that makes a joke abuout me being italian will be wearing cement shoes and become fish food 💀)

Jokes aside how do you imagine Des' life to be post-AL? Feel free to reblog and spam your opinion/designs/whatever! I really missed interacting with you ><

I feel he'd have some kind of healing and embrace both his Desmond and Descole personas finding a good balance in between. He would not be a nerdy archaeologist with heavy glasses and at the same time he would not be a crazy masked man thirsting for revenge, he would be just… Des.

[green-crow]

Giggling to myself as I write the most unhelpful comments on my code just for the funsies

Thank god this is a personal project and I don't have a team of people trying to figure out why I have bite of 87 as the explanation of a function

[holy-mother-of-whumpers]

While waiting for Ektor's Distressing Dilemma chapter 2, since it's been a while, a friend @harmonicpeeps has provided us with a nice, short but comprehensive, summary of the last chapter!

Ektor/Hector in foreground, Odysseus in background.

So ✨ Previously On Odysseus' Iliad: Romance and Pain... ✨

[sizzy-ling]

"Pitts," Neil starts, still blushed, but the sparkle in his eyes is positively mischievous. "You do know what no gifts means, no?"

Pitts rolls his eyes, already reaching for the inside coat of his jacket. "It's not a present," he says, sliding the folded piece of paper toward Neil.

Neil cocks an eyebrow. "What is it then?"

Pitts shrugs. "Read it."

Pitts watches as Neil's gaze squints, his eyes already running down the piece of paper. It's glossy and colorful, torn straight out of a magazine.

Neil frowns, looks up confused.

"I don't understand," he mumbles after a beat.

Pitts tries to curb a smug smile. He fails.

"This is a Connecticut magazine," he starts. "I've made a subscription because I want to know what's going on even when I'm not home."

"Okay," Neil mutters, frown deepening.

"Read the ad on the bottom left," he instructs and Neil dutifly does so.

"It's a production of the Twelfth Night," he says, still entirely confused. He looks up at Pitts again.

Pitts folds his arms over the table. Rests his head in the palm of his hand. "When?"

"Second week of April."

Pitts hums. "Okay... will you go with me?"

Neil blinks. "I - what?"

"Shakespear play in Connecticut, over the Easter break. Will you go with me?"

Neil blinks again. His eyes widen, his jaw unlocks.

"Gerard," he mumbles.

"I may or may not have already told my mom to call your house and tell them you'll be spending Easter with us because of some exhibit at a local museum. And a paper we have due a week after Easter. And because I'm tutoring you... maybe I asked her to oversell it," Pitts muses to himself, shrugging a little.

Across the table Neil has stopped breathing. He's looking at him like Pitts is something precious, and Pitts feels his skin heat up.

"I know you don't like returning home for the holidays... and I'm not saying that my parents can't be overbearing or that we can get away with half the shit we get away with in Welton..." Pitts trails off, feeling his throat suddenly grow thick.

"Gerard," Neil breathes again. Pitts doesn't like his name that much, it's the reason why he goes by his surname most often than not, but he could definitely get used to it sounding like that when it comes out of Neil's mouth.

"Will you come?" He asks, shifting a little in his chair. "Please say yes."

Neil swallows. Shakes his head a little and Pitts face falls. "No? Neil, why not?"

"Its not a no. Gimme my list," Neil demands, extanding his hand.

Pitts slides it over. Neil grabs a pen from the pocket of his coat, quickly as scribbling something before crossing it out. Then he turns the paper around.

"Read it," it's almost a challenge.

Pitts' heart picks up its pace as he draws the paper towards him. Neil's letters are shaky, the ink bleeding through the paper. Still, after so many years of knowing each other Pitts can make out exactly what he wrote.

His breath shatters in his throat.

#23. Don't fall in love with him.

Next to it is scribbled down today's date.

Pitts tries not to grin. He fails. His hand automatically shoots out to grab Neil's, but he stops himself in the last second. He casts a self-conscious look around the shop, slowly lowering his hand back on the table.

He looks over at Neil who seems equally upset at their inability to touch.

Still, Pitts smiles. "So, is that a yes? You'll come with me to see Shakespear?"

"You know I can't say no to Shakespear," Neil teases, but his voice is too soft and his smile too genuine.

"I'm sure it's the only reason."

"Of course."

Pitts bites the inside of his cheek. "You're coming," he sounds giddy.

"I'm coming."

It sounds like a promise.

[kirstythejetblackgoldfish]

Whoever would've predicted that such atrocities would've happened?!

And even Russia and Iran decided this was somehow the 'better' choice

Of course, this is all terrible 💔

'Security forces' you mean terrorists?

[widdleguy]

I'm genuinely like a little rabid dog when you mention my special interests

[astro-b-o-y-d]

The demon that was trying to tell me Bill and/or Cipher were cool names is now trying to tell me Ace is a cool name and it's taking all my efforts to beat back with a stick

[kaluwa-del-conte]

What a great day~ Goodnight everyone!~✨💕

Boop.

[skyward-floored]

Wips. Please. Please. Work with me here, come on pleeeeaaaasssssseeee.

...No?

*flings doc* NEVER MIND THEN I’LL GO CROSS-STITCH BUNNIES