#and that i was totally fine with it

[tealfruit]

apparently I've lost 27lbs in 9 months which is. really fuckin cool actually. that's a really reasonable amount to lose and rate at which it was lost. I'm still chubby but like...before I had this idealized image of myself in my head that was slightly thinner than what I actually was so I'd see myself in the mirror and be like oh ok a little bigger than I thought...but now I actually Am that size I was seeing in my head so I feel like I own myself more than I ever have

[amelie-isnt-french]

Protocol is actually just us Magnus Archives fans rapidly descending into s2-Jon-levels of paranoia. Granted, just like s2 Jon, we have reason to be paranoid, but it's still hilarious to see us all collectively scaling the walls of our enclosure while frothing at the mouth over our theories.

Jonny and Alex are playing us like a cheap harmonica and I'm so here for it

[unoreversecowgirl]

ryan gosling was not picked as ken because he looks like ken, obvi lol. gosling was picked because of vibes, personality and what he represents: “all american”, conventionally attractive, generic but handsome, golden retriever, himbo. he’s not ken, he’s Ken-esque.

edit: and i like the casting :)

[wuruwan]

[inkskinned]

nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.

gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.

oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.

but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.

sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.

greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.

okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.

here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.

people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.

you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.

pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.

[trashgrl666]

[isjasz]

[Day 322]

{}, the Housemaiden, the Fighter, the Magician, the Baker

Going back to isal for a bit I miss these sillies

[posallys]

SOMETHING about they way sally and poseidon interact during that whole 3 minutes suggests that this isn't the first time they've seen and talked to each other. She's not surprised when he shows up--she knows he's going to, and to me, that means that he's done so before. The way poseidon responded when she asked if he wanted to talk to percy--the pain on his face suggests she's asked him that before, but he knows his answer has to be the same. The way it starts raining--a sign, one she knows because it's happened before. The way they're not looking at each other but they both WANT to, they're both trying to hold themselves back--it was too hard the last time. There are so many things said in between their words, so many things said with just the way they act. They're not uncomfortable, just cautious--they can't be found out, cant be seen together, cant let the gods know about percy, cant let percy know about himself or his dad or any of it because it's too soon what if i kill myself

[quixoticanarchy]

what’s really ironic about the “just let everyone get infected w covid!! herd immunity!!” arguments now is that letting the virus run rampant through the world has actually achieved the opposite: everyone may get infected, but then they’ll just keep getting infected. delta infections didn’t protect against the original omicron variant. omicron BA.1 doesn’t protect you against BA.2.12.1. none of them really protect you against BA.4 and BA.5. mass infection is not going to create mass immunity, it just means that with every infection you’re rolling the dice on what this unpredictable and very creative virus is going to do to you

[steampoweredwerehog]

“I wanna make art, but idk what people want to see from me—“ *GRABS YOU*

Do whatever you want. You have an idea? You plagued by visions? You got a special interest? You got daydreams about a oneshot you wanna write? Do it. “But how will I know what gets attention?” YOU WONT. THAT’S THE DEVIL TALKING. Say ‘fuck it’ and make whatever. I make art cuz ideas fill my brain & if I don’t see ‘em with my eyes I’ll DIE.

Make stuff cuz YOU wanna see it. If other people’s eyes see it that’s cool too.

[ragsy]

me designing OCs: "okay this one's a monster because she was born that way and doesn't know any other way to be. and this one's a monster because of circumstances out of his control and a lack of skills with which to cope. and this one's a monster because of her blind dedication to an unjust cause. and this one's a monster because she was complacent to a loved one's suffering. and th

[nerdpoe]

Danny, on a work trip with his parents, is tired and maybe a little cranky and also all of his joints hurt. Sleeping in the GAV is not great. As in, it just doesn't happen.

So he pops his neck.

Or, he tries to pop his neck.

He sighs and grabs the bottom of his jaw and the top of his head and forces his neck to pop.

Except he miscalculated.

He's broken his own neck.

As a halfa, it's fine, he just needs to force/hold it in place and wait twenty minutes for his healing factor to kick in. But when he moves to do that, a pair of red-gloved hands interrupt him and put him in a bracing hold.

"Don't worry kid, ambulance is on it's way!" The Flash reassures him, not budging an inch. "I know it feels like you can just pop it back into place, but it's actually pretty broken right now, and you could uh...it...the doctors will makes sure you're okay!"

Danny watches in despair as his family disappears into the crowd, having not noticed that he was being held up, and tries to think of a lie to make the hero let go without resorting to using his powers in front of the many, many livestreaming phones that have turned towards him.

[essektheylyss]

it's unrealistic that barbarians drop rage just because they haven't attacked or been attacked by anyone in 6 seconds, I sat in 40 minutes worth of traffic caused by government negligence and it's gonna take me another 40 minutes just to stop feeling like I could throw a car through DOT's front window with my bare hands

[lotus-pear]

never forgiving bones for fucking up this scene

[raptorrobot]

i feel like i'm fighting for my fucking life here

[its-your-mind]

I’m sorry I need to talk about this for a second

This part right here. When Nirvana tries to use Thought Infection on Kim Dokja. And this ability that absolutely neutralized Yoo Joonghyuk, Min Jiwon, and Yoo Sangah…

just…

bounces right off.

and it’s set up like this big badass moment. Kim Dokja saves the day again. Kim Dokja can face down anyone. He’s more powerful than every other incarnation and constellation, no matter how much foreknowledge they have.

But honestly?

It kinda just makes me sad.

yjh is incapacitated by the Eternal Nightmare ability because of all the awful things he’s seen and experienced, yes.

But as we know from 1863, happy memories can be much more debilitating for him than sad ones. And while he’s only got 1-2’s memories right know, we know that 2 had some incredibly happy memories to pass on, memories that make the losses that much harder to take.

And Min Jiwon?

Of course she doesn’t actually want to visit a spa while her friends and troops are dying. But can you blame her for having some deep craving for comfort and relaxation right now?

But for Kim Dokja…

The Fourth Wall isn’t just protecting kdj from the negative effects of the skill. It’s not hiding his secret desires, or absorbing his emotions.

It is literally preventing him from experiencing the world around him as reality. Not just because it feels improbable or surreal, but because it is literally keeping him separate from the world around him. On a fundamental level, he does not believe he is truly present in this time and space.

This is derealization and dissociation on an unbelievably intense scale.

“If we’re just characters, why did you die for us so many times?”

Why wouldn’t he? He’s not here, not really. He’s just Reading this story, no matter how much sway he’s been having over what has happened. All of that is just his work as a Reader hoping to see the Epilogue of his favorite novel.

“It was a really great story, isn’t that right?”

Narratively satisfying. A twist ending. A fate that subverted expectations.

An Epilogue worth Reading. Not touching, not feeling, not joining, not creating. Just watching. From a distance away. From behind glass. Through the cracks in a wall.

After all, a story can’t exist without a writer, a protagonist, and a reader. Only two of them truly participate in creating the story. But when you’re the Reader, it’s always worth reading the story again. And again. And again. And again. And again ,