BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER (1997-2003) “A New Man”
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@queenofthearchipelago
BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER (1997-2003) “A New Man”

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one of the most frustrating ways i've found you can be misunderstood is when people think you're horny about the things you're just weirdly fascinated by and weirdly fascinated by the things you're horny about
"omg is this like a fetish for you or something 😅🤣" NOT EVERYTHING IS A FETISH!!! "you have such interesting hobbies" no uh . that one is a fetish actually.
redraw of a frame from THE hualian animatic @/meltsmelt made <3
KICK THE CAN!
Let’s play the biggest game of kick the can on the internet.
To kick the can, reblog it. I wanna see how long this can go on for.
the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13½ years now
And yet somehow this is my first time kicking it!
I can't believe home depot literally produced a wildly successful science fiction musical and we all just pretend it didn't happen. on one hand yes it had a boring white guy main character but like.... home depot just... Made it? And it had shit ton of box office sales? and no one even talks about this. this is like avatar (2009) all over again
OK so. After a lot of frantic googling I realized this was all a dream. home depot did not in fact produce a wildly successful science fiction musical. I was on allergy meds and took a nap and my brain simply prophesized this. slightly disappointed because I wanted to watch it.
(by @galwednesday)

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The Danish training ship “Georg Stage” (1934) dresses in rainbow colour, 2021
not the kind of gay ship I’m used to seeing on tumblr but cool
ship georg is an outlier but SHOULD be counted
This was posted in the Facebook Good Omens group I'm in.
ok so, I approached my local library with a proposal to donate a mural as a way to A: build portfolio/gain practical experience and B: give back to a beloved public institution. The director was very enthusiastic about it and i've been working on it since the beginning of March. Come with me as I endeavor to paint what is in all honesty an excessive amount of birds
I wanted the birds to look like they were actually in the space so first thing after doing the draft was to do a lighting study
after that I covered the walls in letters in lieu of a projector/vr headset bc i have neither of those :) Then i take a picture of the section of wall and superimpose the lineart over top of it so I can pencil in the lines
et voila
and that was a whole week on it's own so next comes the paintin' >:)
People are saying season 2 is no longer canon to them because of the way that the finale ended and I completely understand. The ending of season 1 is absolutely the true ending of Good Omens. But I'm still keeping the Job episode.
(I'm gonna talk about me for a second and then circle back around to making my point about good omens)
A Companion of Owls is so precious to me as someone whose religious deconstruction largely began when I was 15 and actually sat down to read my Bible for the first time, starting with the book of Job because it was one of the shorter ones. I had been taught the story of Job, but not the full story. And I remember having the panicked thought that "Wait, what if *I* was Job's youngest daughter, instead of my father's youngest daughter? What if the only thing that separates me from being unconditionally loved by God and being sacrificed for the messaging of the greater good, was a handful of centuries?"
Only to be replaced in the end? Not even brought back? To have a terrible death worth only one verse in the Good Book? Not even mentioned by name? Did God ask Job's children if they were willing to be sacrificed? The way Gabriel asked Mary if she was willing to carry the savior, the son of God?
I was inconsolable. My faith was shattering around me and I was scared. I was taught that God doesn't forgive people who doubt for too long.
I went to a trusted pastor at the time, and he tried for 45 minutes to convince me that God loved me and was Good. But he couldn't answer the question that was breaking my faith: "What if it was me? God is always the same, you say. The book of Job would have gone the same way even if it was me. It wouldn't have changed a thing. And it's real, it happened, he let them die. He killed them."
And I watched as my pastor made a decision. He decided to do what any good pastor would do. He did actually care about me, I know he didn't like seeing me so distraught. And he realized how bad this was, that I needed something to hold on to or I might find myself losing my faith entirely. And so to save my faith, and my well-being at the time, he leaned forward and said:
"Some scholars think the book of Job is a story. A parable just like the others. That from start to finish, it's a piece of fiction that's meant to share a message. That no matter how hard it gets, keep your faith and you shall be rewarded. If that helps, to think of it not as a real history, but as an extreme story that was written to help deliver an important message to us today, and no one really died, you wouldn't be alone in thinking it."
It did help, in the way that all Christians who care about truth have to tell themselves stories to make it make sense. So that they don't leave.
And so I decided it was fiction. And I did my best not to think about it. How in the fiction story it still happened and what does that say about God's character even if he didn't do it?
And so the years went on of me continuing to attend small groups and Sunday mornings. Though the questions I was applying to my Bible were now being applied to my teachers. I remember looking around the room at my peers like "Are y'all hearing this? This doesn't make sense?"
My faith officially broke on a Sunday night, years later. Different story for a different time. But it was months after that that good omens 2 came out. And to be shown a version of Job that said to me "Hey, you were right to feel bad about this. This is horrific. Job's youngest daughter deserved to live. Fuck the greater good. You know exactly what the right thing is." And then they let her live?
Aziraphale and Crowley live on as they did at the end of season 1. That's the true ending. And a few thousand years before that, they worked together to save Job's children, including his youngest daughter.
Cause you know what? It helps knowing that if I think that God is cruel, that the stories we are given to shape us into who they want us to be don't HAVE to end that way???
It helps knowing I'm not alone in thinking it.
thinking of what could have been if John Finnemore had been given the reins for S3
what if the conclusion of a biblical parody had been written by a comedy writer, instead of a sex predator and his sycophantic pals... hmm...
we could have had the guy who made the Job mini-episode... instead, we got the Dollar Tree reprise of Sandman...

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refseek.com
www.worldcat.org/
link.springer.com
http://bioline.org.br/
repec.org
science.gov
pdfdrive.com
Worldcat is my bestie and my one true love!! Not only does it tell you what library a book is at, but it also price compares different used book sites against each other for easy view! It's how I got Tarot For the Master for $10!!
Oh, and since I have your attention: z-library (books and textbooks) and sci-hub (gatekept scientific journal articles.) I just ripped a textbook for class off z-library and snatched a required reading from sci-hub. Life is good and education should be accessible at every stage and station of life.
information wants to be free
one of the worst things about fandom is when people headcanon a certain character as gay and suddenly that becomes the only valid, practically unofficial-official canon reading of that character's sexuality. gay. just gay. character has shown romantic or sexual desire for women? it's comphet, don't worry, he's still gay. character isn't interested in sex much at all? it's because he hasn't fucked a man, obviously. character has lots of women friends? they are the hags to his fag, he's gay, why are you even trying. and it all seems like a very Transformative and Woke way to read a character until you step back and realize how much biphobia, acephobia, misogyny, and transphobia are baked into the adamant refusal to accept The Character as anything other than gay. it's horrendous, actually. but you will get shot in the streets for this.
The 72-year-old British actor also had roles in shows including Merlin and Little Britain.
I’m just so so sad. Such a formative part of who I am. And such an incredibly kind and generous person.
i don't know how to say this without being all 'kids these days' BUT kids do seem more sheltered nowadays regarding reading. all the kids' chapter books are called something like 'sir poops-a-lot and the massive fart' and people are absolutely vehement that a teenager can't read wicked because of its (nonexistent) smut and on threads right now people are seriously having a debate about whether 12 year olds can read ya books. when i was in year seven reading flowers in the attic was a rite of passage and now people are afraid of preteens knowing about the existence of sex.
Wei Weaving is a Chinese artist
Things to do with all the copper wire you stole from the streetlamps....
But seriously, look up Leonardo DaVinci's tree-proportion equation: he calculated that the area of the trunk at any height was equal to the sum of the diameter of all the limbs at any height further up — and it turns out that generally he was pretty close! (For botanical reasons!)
So not to cast shade but that's why this type of tree sculpture seemingly works like magic!

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hi! back again in your inbox <3
re the prompt game:
“wearing the other person’s old shirt to sleep better”
OR
“wrapping the other person up in their jacket to stay warm”
or anything on the list! i jusf want to read your take on it :))
You are always welcome in here omg 💗 now for some heartbreak, as a treat!!
sharing clothes prompts
—
He was gone. Guinevere knew that. She’d felt it when it happened, as though someone had thrown an ax and cleaved her heart straight in two. She’d fallen to the ground immediately, her body wracked with sobs. Merlin was the only person who could calm her down, convince her to leave where she was and return to her rooms. She hadn’t known how he’d appeared so quickly, but she’d long since stopped questioning his mysterious appearances.
All she noticed was no light remained in either of their eyes.
For days, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned in the throes of her grief, mourning the greatest lost she’d felt since her father passed. Arthur was ingrained in her soul, and when he left, he took a piece of her with him.
Gwen trudged through the days with dark shadows beneath her eyes, trying as hard as she could to keep her head above water and the kingdom afloat alongside it.
A month passed, then two. By the third, Merlin’s concern had grown ten sizes.
“You need rest, my lady.”
She looked at him, her eyes, though deeply sad, pricking with the barest hint of her old self as she softly corrected, “Gwen. It’s always been Gwen to you. You know that.”
Even now, in the middle of the night, both of them in nightclothes, hiding away in the kitchen, she was still Gwen, and he Merlin. Their friendship was not so far removed, not so altered, that they could not remain familiar.
“I know that, Your Highness,” Merlin repeated, sighing quietly as he added, “Gwen. I know that. I also know you need rest.”
“I can’t sleep,” she confessed, snapping slightly. “Don’t you think I would if I was able to? I haven’t been able to sleep since he — ”
She couldn’t bring herself to say it, though thankfully she didn’t have to. Merlin nodded, his I know unspoken yet still hovering between them.
“I have an idea,” he said after a moment, offering her his hand. She took it, nodding slowly. He led her back to her own bedroom, rustling around until he produced one of Arthur’s shirts.
“Put this on.”
“What?”
“Just… trust me.”
Though bewildered, she took the shirt from him, disappearing to change.
“You didn’t enchant it, did you?”
“Very funny.”
She reappeared after a few moments, a lightness he hadn’t seen in months briefly returned to her. The shirt was large on her, engulfing her smaller figure beneath it. Merlin cleared his throat, looking away, his cheeks dusted with a light pink.
“Go lay down.”
“All right.”
Guinevere did as she was told, crawling beneath the covers of her bed. She had no idea how this was meant to help her sleep, though her limbs did feel slightly heavier than usual.
“Now breathe.”
She followed his latest instruction, and tears streamed from her eyes after she inhaled. It wasn’t a shock to find the shirt smelled like Arthur, but it was another reminder that he wasn’t here.
“Wait,” she told him, wiping her eyes and sitting up slowly. Merlin stopped, having been carefully moving towards the door as to not disturb her.
“Stay. Come here.”
He heeded Gwen’s command, sitting down at the edge of the bed. She shook her head.
“No, I mean — here.”
She placed a palm on the space next to her. Merlin swallowed nervously, but slid into her bed as she instructed.
Gwen bit down on her lip, deliberating for half a second before she placed a hand on his arm.
“Would you… I mean, would you…?”
She couldn’t get the words out, another tear slipping past her cheek. Thankfully, he could still read her mind after all these years.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Of course.”
Merlin wrapped his arms around her. Not for the first time, they cried together, took turns brushing the water from each other’s faces. Though, when they had both calmed, Guinevere settled back, taking Merlin with her.
“Please don’t disappear,” she whispered. He placed his head down atop hers, and the gesture reminded her so fiercely of her husband that she took a shaky breath to keep herself from breaking down again.
“I won’t,” Merlin whispered. “I promise.”
He wasn’t Arthur. Gwen, however, didn’t want him to be. She wondered what he would have thought, his wife and his advisor huddled together, bound by his memory. She pushed the thought and any remaining guilt away as a yawn arrived. Guinevere settled into Merlin’s chest, listening to his heart as he held her.
For the first time in months, she slept soundly.
does the body ALWAYS have to keep the score? maybe we could just have a friendly game this time. maybe we can just have fun without putting numbers on it