#and ultimately wrong

[edwardsdeathcabcd]

i've said it before but it will forever and always make me insane that jacob's ending is to join the cullens for the sake of bella not having to give anything up. they find out jake will be immortal & tied to renesmee forever, so bella gets to smile & say "my family is finally complete! ^-^" but jake already HAS a family. he has a father and 2 sisters. quil, embry, seth and sam are like his brothers. jacob and leah were planning to run away together. he's always been welcome in emily's home, sue has been a family friend since before his birth. bella abandons her mortality by choice because she feels no connection to the people around her, but jacob has really strong bonds. it's clear that every character we meet in la push is like family to him, he's an active member of the community. jake would've graduated high school and been a mechanic, would've grown into a young man. a good friend, a fun uncle, a present son. he's set up to have such a rich life. and he's just magically compelled to give that up. beyond his control, he loses sight of everything, because his high school crush's baby is now the singular most important thing to him. he's perpetually 18 with his perpetually 18 year old girlfriend, running around vancouver or alaska or wherever with the girl who friendzoned him at 16 & her in-laws (who were antagonistic to him for months). and i'm just supposed to say omg yay now he doesn't have to let go of bella! everyone is happy! it's complete madness

[lhislucas]

First... Kiss?

Original Ref ↓

[fluffyartbl0g]

Everytime I go into the Zosopp tag, I just see people SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING about the lack of posts IN the Zosopp tag. THE ZOSOPP ECONOMY IS IN SHAMBLES

[evilsanlang]

talking to vote blue no matter who americans as a latin american

[heavenpierceher]

[miasmadevil]

You look better when you smile.

-

redraw of the trimax couch panel but make it the other priest x red gunman

Reference under read more!

[transthatmasc]

we were genuinely so cheated not to have Cas possess Dean. Hell! He could have possessed Sam and it still would have gotten the point across. Jensen would have put his whole jussy into the Cas/Dean hand off, and they could have had a whole convo before or after about how “it’s okay Cas, I trust you. You can have control.” And then references from then on to “when I was in you…” and with Sam? Don’t get me started. Dean being so fucking uncomfortable because Cas looks like his brother. Or the complete opposite where Dean so clearly just sees Cas and keeps having to be like “oh shit” when he gets too close and realizes it’s Sam’s body and it’s weird. So many possibilities and we got none of them 😭

[anamericangirl]

“If it makes me happy it’s not a sin”

Yes actually it can still be a sin even if it brings you joy because how you feel about something does not determine what sin is.

And sin absolutely can make you feel good or give you temporary happiness. If we didn’t like sin and it didn’t bring us some amount of happiness then we wouldn’t be drawn to it and it wouldn’t be so hard to stay away from.

Not everything that makes you happy honors God and that is how sin is defined.

“But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.” James 1:14-15

“Choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin.” Hebrews 11:25

If you want to know if something is a sin the question is not how do you feel about it but how does God feel about it?

[thesummerstorms]

We mostly see a friendly (for him) / grumpy / overbearing Viago in Veilguard, one who has, according to all the surrounding NPCs, been upset with Rook de Riva being driven away in exile and who is perhaps softened by their survival and return.

Part of my brain is toying with the idea of his paranoia though. Specifically, what it would take for him to snap back at Rook in a way that is him reasserting himself as their Talon, as having power over them, and not just their mentor or friend or familial figure.

Like. I don't know what the scenario would be, but what, precisely, would it take for his eyes and voice to go cold with the kind of warning only Crows fully understand?

The Veilguard watches as instead of responding with their normal bickering and poking and prodding, Rook straightens their spine and bows their head. Any playfulness or frustrated kinetic energy on their part is suddenly smothered.

"Fifth Talon." They acknowledge, no longer Rook, just a Crow.

Viago waits three long heartbeats, stretching the moment thin in order to make a point before he finally acknowledges their submission.

Rook de Riva is allowed many, many indulgences that Viago would never forgive a different Crow. But even with the personal nature of their relationship and even with their alliance with the most reform-minded of all the Talons?

They are both still Crows.

Viago is still Rook's Talon and holds their service and their life in his gloved hands.

Some things cannot, will not be changed or challenged because it is outside of the Crows' nature to do so.

Rook's newfound status as a hero makes that more true, not less. Even with Rook as the savior of Treviso, Viago must be seen as the will of House de Riva, not his complicated little Fledgling.

So when Rook de Riva hears the hissing warning of a snake that refuses to be trampled, they know it to be genuine. And for better or worse, they bow their head and bare their neck.

If anything, it's a mark of Viago's indulgence that it goes no further than that.

But for the members of the Veilguard, excepting Lucanis, the sudden threat and Rook's utter lack of fight is confounding.

Rook is their leader. Rook looks Gods in their face to taunt or berate or laugh at them. Watching the way they smother all their fire behind a completely expressionless face, not a word of protest, is like watching something alien puppeting Rook's body and wearing their face.

Lucanis, again is the exception. He is tense only until Viago accepts Rook's verbal concession and dismisses them, at which point he holds his own stone face to hide a gentle, awkward sympathy, not wanting Rook to feel pitied.

That makes it so much more uncanny for the others watching.

[fumifooms]

I don’t like minimizing the importance and gravity of Laios and Toshiro’s fight into just being a childish squabble, even if to a degree it is framed that way, because to both of them it has a lot of personal significance and emotional weight and runs very deep to their characters… The fight isn’t nothing it’s a LOT, they made up but it’s not something easy to express and to get over for either of them which makes it all the more meaningful! I’m on both sides but there very much are sides, there’s no "they’re both having a ball, Toshiro and Laios hand in hand yay" side to the fight, that comes after

The fight with Toshiro WAS very scary to Laios, almost existentially so, but it’s moreso the "I thought I’d made a friend!!" bit and my god. My god actually

Like it’s not "just" about oh his friend liking him less than he thought, THAT IS SO MUCH. It’s a bond he thought he had being a lie it’s all the time and moments spent together either being a lie from his perspective or marred now looking back. It’s not only being upset at Toshiro for lying but upset at himself that he’s so easy to fool, it’s being upset that there’s something so wrong with you that you can’t even tell if your "close buddy" even actually likes you or not, it’s like. Holding my head. He can’t trust his own vision of events that happened do you see. There’s always this film of distrust that it could be a lie that should be there when he interacts with people there’s always this sense of cloak and dagger to expect backstabs out of nowhere because you CAN’T see it coming you CAN’T you CAN’T there’s something about you which makes it impossible so you CAN’T-

He’s so scared of not being able to read people. He knows it’s a weak spot he has, he’s always known. All of these bits are centered around social expectations and betrayals, the assumption that he doesn’t belong either in society or with other humans.

And Laios’ level of awareness is actually sort of complex to analyze, but it’s there, there’s how out of him and Falin he was the one sensitive to the ~aura of hatred~ he felt from the townspeople, there’s of course his nightmares whispering to him about the mocking looks, and how yeah actually he realizes that his gold stripper coworker was taking advantage of him. There’s of course the Winged Lion speech about his trauma and how he fundamentally mistrusts/dislikes humans to some deep seated degree, this distrust that he still keeps under control always. There’s how pre-canon he often wanted to suggest eating monsters but never worked up the courage to bring it up with the others. There’s how he comes across as stoic when he isn’t being enthusiastic…… We don’t know how aware and wary he is exactly in the moment but we do know he has some anxiety around social stuff, and looking back he does notice and aughh augh, the sense you have to hide yourself to not get hurt, and be on your guard and shit and.

When you don’t know what to look out for and when to look out for it, the general ‘common sense’ of not always trusting people or noticing when someone’s messing with you becomes hypervigilance in social settings

"Man they really know what you hate huh." Being socially unaware literally plagues him, he knows, he knows it so well.

It’s so quick that it’s almost hard to digest how literal and blatant Laios summoning his monster to crush all the people who’ve hurt him is. His literal go-to coping mechanism for comfort in his literal monster-induced emotionally intense nightmare, saving him by taking away the upsetting element (the humans)

"Monsters are his coping fantasy, where they can whisk him away from humanity, all the hurt it’s caused him and its arbitrary rules" with the subtlety of a brick. Monsters are his comfort safe zone "because they kill humans" yes but no it’s because he pits them as the guardians against humans who to him are in the role of the agressors. To him they represent freedom from the shackles of what it means to be part of humanity, a fundamentally social species

[turbineface]

AMERICAN HERO DINOBOT!!!!!! 2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

god i love men im actyally shaking 😧😧😧😧😧😧😧😧😧😧

[purplebutwarhammer]

It’s still incredibly funny how often Curzes novel takes the time to remind us that everyone thinks he’s hot

[dangernoodley]

So... I like Sonic now

Edit: I changed Shadow's face since it was bothering me. AND ALSO! I just realized I made Shadow the ultimate shortie 😭 Not bad or anything, just funny.

AU by: @mintyfrosty

Alt (Also RIP. Tumblr quality made this baddddd):

[luvissues]

thinking about graveyard groundskeeper!ghost x reader

notes: cw for death/murder?? kind of

His rugged boots have long since dug their soles into the mud of the sullied ground, treads worn and tired (somehow, the steel toes always shine spick-and-span, rain or shine).

He walked a familiar path each day, the hours lapping into one another- a rhythmic lull. Every morning, for as long as he’d counted, he’d take the path that stretched miles and miles around the length of the graveyard.

And then, when he stopped counting, he kept walking it anyway.

It wasn’t just walking, though. Simon did everything. He did everything for the rotting bastards buried deep beneath the soil, because the families and friends and lovers who had rightfully left them to be forgotten wouldn’t.

Regrettably, it was his home, tethered to him by the macabre work he’d found himself in. It wasn't so much a tie to the job as much as it was a metal chain anchoring him there.

Yet, there was no iron ball at the end. Only the weight of hundreds of gravestones, dirty and ugly and languishing, just like him.

There's nowhere else in the puzzle of the world he could possibly fit himself into. In the service, the only difference was that he walked amongst still-warm bodies.

Now, they were cold and long-gone, but the principle stayed the same.

He knows the name they all give him. It’s from the people who do come back; stupid sods who keep themselves indebted to remains far gone, to a soul that rests much lower than where the body was ever buried.

He doesn’t mind it. Doesn’t speak to them, anyway. Somewhere along the way, he’d started to associate with it, too. They’d done him a favor, ridding him of his name- because no person would ever work this job, would ever keep themselves so close to the dead, that even something as human sleeping was reduced down to shortening the hours until he had to work again.

They called him Ghost, and the name rested well for the man who seemingly never left the graveyard.

Regardless of what they call him, he does the job well.

The grounds are always clean. Not pretty, but oddly well cared for. He doesn’t respect the people who lie underneath his feet, no, but he was never one to half-ass a job.

The iron fence shines. The grass is always trimmed, weeded. The gravel path is a neat, straight line, the only out-of-order being the marks scuffed into it by one hefty pair of boots.

At the end of the day, there’s always a fire burning in the house that lies just behind the thick canopy of trees at the yard’s border. Because even though they call him Ghost, he hates the way his cold fingers tremble as if he’s just seen one when he tucks in for the night.

For some reason, he doesn't offer his house the same diligent upkeep he allots to the cemetery. Perhaps that’s why maybe you presumed the home to be abandoned; for how orderly the graveyard was, the residence seemed not to warrant the same type of care.

It wasn’t like you had ever seen anyone roaming the grounds yourself, anyway. That was the kind of privacy you needed.

Naturally, Simon notices when there seems to be a second pair of footprints along his daily route.

The grit was wet and muddy after the previous day’s rain, and it only made the marks more apparent. What was more concerning, though, was the long streak of mud that followed right beside the tracks.

Not that the groundskeeper was deterred one bit. He followed the marks in the same way a hunting dog would follow the spoor of its catch, attention unwavering. When those prints veered off course and into the grass, he was sure to follow.

The rush had grown long and thick over weeks of sporadic rain, never seeming to dry enough for him to go in and crop it. Water caught on the rough fabric of his jeans as he waded through the overgrown blades, passing through the rows and columns of headstones, following the thick line of mud that had sprouted off the pathway.

Strangely, it stopped in front of his house.

Not that his home was very visible from here, not with the stocky blanket of forest that enveloped it. But you had lead him all the way to the end of the acres, past the fence and into the encompassing woods.

Simon wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected to be at the end of his hunt. Maybe some vermin had dragged it’s sorry meal through the winding field, or a sorrowing lover had carried with then a memorial of sorts when coming to visit their spouse’s grave. But you?

No, he can’t say he expected you to be standing there; wet, cold body lying helplessly at your feet. Living up to his name, Ghost doesn’t say a word or move even an inch as he watches you bring up your shovel, only to use all your strength to haul it back down over the poor cadaver.

It’s admirable, really. He notices the blades of your shoulders flexing with each swing, muscles tensing and straining. If anything, you’ve piqued his morbid interest.

Yet, he knows that any successful chase lies in the wait. Active duty had hammered that in. So, he watches on with a sick curiosity, simply surveying the way that this corpse is becoming more mangled and unrecognizable with each blow you throw at it.

Eventually, your shoulders rise and fall in time with your chest. Deep, heavy lungfuls of putrid air he has long grown adapted to.

And like that, you’re walking. Waltzing off as if you hadn’t left a mutilated mess just beyond his overgrown front porch.

He wastes no time closing distance. Before you can even register who it is, you’re turning around at the sound of bulky steps moving through the sod.

When you meet his eyes, you know that your shovel will be of no use against this man.

He doesn’t say anything, not at first. His masks conceals just about everything except for his eyes, deep and brown like the dirt beneath your feet. He makes no attempt to conceal the way they analyze you.

Truthfully, you look harmless. Not the same woman who’d maimed the body at the edge of his woods. In the back of his mind, a voice from years past stirs in his head, a click of a tongue and a murmur about what a wee lamb you appeared to be.

“Y’ve got no business leaving me such a mess to clean,” he gruffs. When his voice finally raises, it’s rough and low, and exactly what you’d expect from a man like him.

The only thing you can think to do in the moment is blink up at him owlishly. Clean up? This was a matter of court, of prison, of the worst crime, and he…

didn’t seem anything more than a bit peeved. His indifference to it all was enough to make the skin at the back of your neck prickle.

“Leave him.” Is all there is to say. You’d beaten that measly man for a reason- he didn’t deserve any more grace. You’d already given him a quick death, an easy regret, and this was making up for it.

Simon doesn’t reply. He’s still trying to figure you out, gears clicking and chugging along in his head.

Your stockings are absolutely filthy, shoes ruined and peeling with mud and grime. The shovel slung over your shoulder is damn near bent ninety degrees with how much you’d put it to work.

Brows pinching together, he tsks.

“Leave ‘im?” He scoffs. “And let the ugly bastard sit t’ rot in my yard? You ‘ad a shovel, the least you could do was bury him.”

Like Simon, your mind is hard at work. He‘s just witnessed you drag a dead body for well over a mile, beat it senseless, and for what? He’s more concerned about digging a proper hole for the grubby remains? You’re half convinced he might pull a measuring tape from his pocket and start mapping out six feet beneath your feet right now.

You shake your head at his suggestion. All thing considered, your voice doesn’t waver as much as you might’ve thought when you answer him. “Doesn’t deserve it.”

The keeper’s gaze darkened a bit at that. He was plenty sure that the man didn’t deserve it- why else would a little thing like you have gotten herself into all this trouble? Still, he can’t let you go just like that.

“You thought you were gonna get away?” He hums quietly. He shortens the space between you easily, gaze steeling.

Once he’s close enough, he leans down to get a better look at your face. The rain that drips copiously from the trees has mingled with your sweat, leaked into the cotton of your clothes.

In any other circumstance, he might’ve passed you up as another ditzy pushover. But all dirtied up, you couldn’t have looked anything but.

Simon had long grown tired of trying to break in whining little women all by himself. He hadn’t considered finding one who was already well-worn to the rugged edges of the world.

“What if I turn you in?” He proposes, and the following silence hangs heavy. He’d have no issue slinging over your shoulder to march you off to the sheriff, and that’s a certainty.

“Then at least it’ll be for a good reason.”

He almost wants to laugh. God, no, you’re no precious lamb. You’re a damn wolf, an ugly little beast, and you’ve fallen right into his hands.

They always said that opposites attract, but Simon can’t help that his tattered soul is becoming determined to pin you down. Maybe they lied.

“Tell you what,” he murmurs, tone deep and steady as if mulling things over. “I’ll cut you a deal. You sit nice and pretty while I clean up yer mess, and we’ll go from there.”

When you don’t respond right away, a gloved hand comes up to pinch your cheeks, pulling your lips pursed together. He’s no fool to think that you’re powerless- no, not after this- but you're playing on his field now.

You’ll be different, that he’s sure of, but the thrill of the chase is familiar.

“Deal?” he presses, pulling you in until you’re near eye to eye. When you do give him a stiff nod, he exaggerates it by bobbing your head in his grip, and he’s quick to let up. Suddenly, he's ushering you along with a big paw heavy on your back and promises of an ashy fire waiting to warm you up at home.

Your tongue is a bit too tied to correct him at the suggestion that it’s your home. You're not entirely sure it would make any difference to him.

[markscherz]

Natural history museums hold innumerable misidentified specimens on their shelves. These specimens make their way into databases like GBIF, and muddy data that is used in global-scale analyses and other research drawing on such records. Careful verification of all specimens in a collection holding tens to hundreds of thousands of specimens would be a Herculean task that could take a dozen experts a decade. So, we often rely on spot checks.

Whilst searching our constrictor collection to see if we have any albino snakes (we don’t seem to), I came across this snake that had been identified as a Boa constrictor. It is in fact Malayopython reticulatus, a reticulated python. A quick new label and an update in our database, and I was able to move it over to the right shelf. Now it won’t muddy the waters further, and is able to be referred to by anyone interested in examining a retic.

How many more such cases are haunting our shelves of over 14 million objects? And that’s just the Natural History Museum of Denmark; there are billions of objects in similar collections globally. This is quite literally an astronomically huge problem.

[orange-sora]

So, I recently made this post:

And @astrinde left this comment on it which made me realise that I did a very poor job of expressing myself. Sorry about that. (This is exactly why I shouldn't post while half asleep.)

Thank you for leaving this comment <3 (It made me think about exactly what I wanted to convey through that post.)

I can understand why people would find the word "mistake" to be the hurtful aspect of Xichen's speech and I wasn't thorough (lol) in my previous post so I am doing it now. I need to clarify some things so I am putting them here.

I am not particularly focused on the semantics here or on Xichen being "anti-wangxian". It doesn't matter to me how supportive canon characters are of a ship. I am also not hating on Xichen for the way he reacted. He was valid for being angry. In his pov, his lil bro suffered a lot and WWX is playing with him. He was missing A LOT of context.

Whether he was calling WWX "Wangji's transgression or mistake", the truth is LWJ acted the way he did on his own. While WWX received societal condemnation for his fuck ups, LWJ himself didn't think WWX deserved it or that the way he acted or intended to act was "wrong". LWJ wanted to protect WWX as he believed WWX to be righteous. In fact, I think he struggled a lot to come to terms with the disparity between WWX’s righteousness and his own sect's beliefs and rules of righteousness. But in the end, the decision to support WWX was HIS OWN.

Putting LWJ on a pedestal that aligns with society's and sect’s values is what caused him misery.

He was punished for discerning something to be right that everyone else has already agreed is wrong. By calling WWX "Wangji's only transgression or mistake", Xichen is being disrespectful to both WWX and LWJ because he's disregarding Wangji's free will and right to judge what's right/wrong for himself and putting the responsibility of Wangji's suffering on WWX’s shoulders (while being ignorant of why WWX did the things he did).

However, none of that was WWX's responsibility. If you support someone and people cancel you for it, is that someone to blame when you made the free choice of supporting them?

WWX actively tried to keep himself isolated to protect others from his decisions and his approach towards justice. That was a significant aspect of his life as the yilling laozu. Because he KNEW he was controversial. The thing that I was referring to in that post is from WWX’s perspective, it's a totally understandable yet horrible accusation to receive. Because WWX worked hard in canon to avoid that. Because WWX knew that anyone who supports him WILL suffer. Because WWX knew loving him is a punishment that no one deserves especially LWJ.

He just wasn't aware that LWJ would and had supported him because he has also placed LWJ on the same pedestal as everyone. He never imagined LWJ to make a choice that goes against the rules that he has followed throughout his life. That was probably the cause of all miscommunication between them.

Even if this isn't Xichen's personal judgement, he's borrowing the judgement of the society to blame WWX for something that in essence wasn't his fault. He is doing what everyone else is doing by acting on a mob mentality. Because WWX is a very convenient punching bag as he DID make mistakes publicly and he's aware of them.

In fact, anyone with any sense in canon is aware that WWX is an easy target. Meng Yao, Jiang Cheng, Wei Ying, Lan Zhan, Nie Huaisang, etc. Everyone knew WWX would be villainised even for the wrongs he never committed. That was a pretty significant theme in Mo Dao: you can't save people from other’s judgements. Once you've been decided as the villain, that's all everyone would see.

Another significant theme in MDZS was how you can't save people from their own choices and you have to live with seeing your loved ones suffer due to those choices. So Xichen suffered because he couldn't save Wangji. Jiang Cheng suffered because he couldn't save Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian suffered because he couldn't save Wen Ning and Wen Qing (or anyone really), Lan Zhan suffered because he couldn't save Wei Ying and on and on…

But everyone needs someone to blame for all the suffering. And that was Wei Wuxian, in most cases.

The main thing is both Xichen and Wei Ying had not wanted Wangji to suffer and both had to live with the fact that he did. But it was purely Wangji's choice to accept that pain.

Lan Xichen is wrong for saying that WWX was Wangji's transgression/mistake because in saying so he's supporting the idea that LWJ should've quietly followed the crowd and saved himself from the public backlash. It comes from a place of care for his brother, but it's still wrong.

Lan Elders made the choice of punishing him. Lan Wangji accepted that punishment because he went against the rules of the sect, not because he was wrong for supporting/ loving Wei Ying.

Wangji was aware of the repercussions of supporting WWX and still chose to do it because it aligned with his personal sense of morality. And also because he loved Wei Ying. And he loved Wei Ying because despite his mistakes, Wei Ying was morally right. And hence, worth the pain to Lan Zhan.