#writing this down writing this down

[spacexseven]

I think that when sk darling switches abilities there should be like some sort of cool down? Like the more abilities they steal their health get worse but I think that should be kinda ish the same with switching them

Like they have to wait for some time until they switch to an ability again because for ex switching an ability in 10 mins it could heavily affect darling if you get what I'm trying to say

yea i get what u mean!! a cooldown sounds like a good pushback from overusing an ability ^-^ thank you sm for your suggestion!!

[blueboxbeagle]

By LabradoriteKing on Pinterest

[sanguinifex]

You gotta read and watch some old books and films that aren’t 100% modern politically correct. I’m not saying you should agree with everything in them but you need to learn where genres came from to understand what those genres are doing today and where media deconstructing old tropes is coming from.

Also, more often than you might think, they’re not actually promoting bigotry so much as “didn’t consider all the implications of something” or just used words that were polite then but considered offensive now.

Kill the censor in your head.

[systemic-stupidity]

*deep breath in*

*deep breath out*

Let AAC users say fuck!

Let them swear, let them say fuck and asshole and anything else they want.

Let them program their devices to say ‘fuck off’ instead of just ‘leave me alone, please’. Let them have language that’s adult or even offensive! Give them the ability to communicate the same as anyone else- let them have the option to be abrasive and even rude for when people are being assholes, let them swear casually so they can joke with their peers and say shit like ‘can you pass the damn ketchup’!!!!!!!!

Let disabled people say fuck!

[cauchesque]

applying for jobs seems to mostly consist of lying and submitting to indignities, which is whatever. but it is very difficult for me to override my innate instinct that anyone demanding i write a cover letter has insulted me so greatly that the only way to retain my honor is violence

[sanct1f1ed]

favorite stan twins characterization is that they're both equally insane. stanley just gets more air time to show it off. loosely inspired by a post i read earlier but here's some absolutely insane things both of them have done

stanley:

drugged a person and turned them into an exhibit in the mystery shack

had a vegas wedding to a prospector-themed novelty dispenser

gave mabel a grappling hook

failed to steal an animatronic badger

chewed his way out of the trunk of a car

punched at least three bald eagles

is multiply divorced, possibly even with the novelty dispenser

committed premeditated murder on a llama

faked a heart attack to get on Wheel of Fortune

took his clothes off in front of a live studio audience on Wheel of Fortune

has a rivalry with a fifth grader, a grandmother, and a man who exclusively dresses like a corn cob

stanford:

pulled a gun on a bus driver when he wouldn't let a pig on board

directly assisted in mind-controlling ronald reagan during his election in 1980

gave mabel a crossbow

got bitten by a vampire bat and subsequently began sampling human blood

owns contraband outlawed in 9000 dimensions; keeps it in an extremely flimsy plastic case

"accidentally" set a hawk on fire

has exes ranging from as normal as his old college buddy to as weird as a triangle and an alien with 7 eyes who put a metal plate in his head

wears turtlenecks because he's hiding multiple tattoos he regrets, including one themed around "all star" by smash mouth

is an Extremely wanted criminal across hundreds of dimensions; was completely kicked out of one for card counting

is, bizarrely, super into the band Eurythmics

can see shrimp colors

[excarow]

Everytime ao3 is down I'm reminded of two things:

One is that humans have and always will love telling stories, and they will continue to do so even if there is no benefit to telling these stories, but simply because we love creating things

The other is that a concerning amount of us use fanfiction as an extreme form of escapism that we can't function without and we should probably look into that

[officialspec]

modern au but set in brisbane. is this anything

[canonkiller]

but you can't keep holding on like this.

[heritageposts]

🇵🇸 From BDS:

More than 300 Palestinian sports teams are calling to ban Israel from the Olympics over its genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. [...] In Gaza, Israel has killed Palestinian Olympic Football coach Hani Al Masdar, destroyed the Palestinian Olympic Committee offices, and turned sports facilities into shameful mass detention and torture centers. We can’t sit back as the IOC allows Israel to use the Olympics to sportswash its genocide in Gaza and its apartheid regime against Palestinians everywhere. Support the call from Palestinian teams. Join the campaign to #BanIsrael from the Olympics and peacefully disrupt the road to the Paris 2024 games. 

Global days of action planned for March 15-17:

Ahead of the IOC executive board meeting in Lausanne Switzerland (March 19-21), take the call from Palestinian teams to your National Olympic Committee, International Sports Federations and Recognized Sports Federations. Organize protests, sit-ins, peaceful disruptions, or awareness raising events on Israeli attacks on Palestinian sports.

For more concrete information on how you can participate in the campaign, see the link above. You should also check in with your local BDS-affiliated organization(s) to see if they have anything planned for these dates (if they don't, consider bringing it up to them)

If you're not familiar with any BDS-affiliated organizations in your country (or state/city), then take a look at BDS's "Join a Campaign'"page.

There's also a petition you can sign.

[whinesandwhimpers]

down bad simon may look a little like this

You've stepped outside for some fresh air so when Simon walks out a few minutes after you and lights up a cigarette, your face immediately scrunches up in disgust.

He catches your expression. "Not a fan of smoking?"

"Came out for some fresh air."

"Hm, seems like more than that." He muses, turning his head away to blow out some smoke.

"I just think it's gross."

He's silent for a few moments and you think maybe he's offended even, but then he turns back to you and clears his throat.

"That one of your deal breakers then?"

"Deal brea—yeah. It is. Don't think I could bring myself to even kiss a smoker. Why? You interested?" You joke, expecting a laugh and dismissal of the conversation.

He immediately throws his cigarette on the ground and snuffs it out with his shoe, then walks over to the bin and pulls the half-full carton out of his pocket and throws it and his lighter out. Just like that. He walks back over to stand in front of you, his large hand coming up to rest on your cheek, an intensity simmering in his dark eyes as he looks at you.

"Yes."

[edains]

Rick Riordan constantly trashing the movies for not sticking to his books then releasing a show in which he rewrites everything and loses the spirit of the books entirely

[evermoreal]

thinking abt some kind of outlaw!au where the 141 walk away from a raid with a lot more than they bargained for.

౨ৎ *· edit: this is now a series!

a few weeks back they’d received word of a nobleman and his wife who’d be leaving for their honeymoon, valuables aboard the carriage. after a bit of lurking and bribing, they’d narrowed down just which road was desolate and wild enough to get away with the raid.

concealed by the bordering forests, they’d waited. an embarrassingly opulent carriage came dawdling down the road (polished wood, velvet curtains, ostentatious engravings) & they pounced.

the drivers & guards, they’d expected. the gunshots, the shouting. what took them by surprise, though, was the wife, who did not fight as gaz wrestled her into his arms. who watched a little too closely when ghost dragged his blade across her husband’s chest, demanding the location of their funds.

“where’s’a money?” price questioned, moving towards the woman when her husband’s pride weighed heavier than his cowardice. his broad palm gripped her jaw as gaz held her arms behind her back. “hm, lovey? y’speak english? y’better tell me, or your sweetheart ‘ere ‘ll be gutted before tha night’s over.”

she watched her husband writhe for a long moment, before meeting price’s gaze. her voice was flat, steady. “kill him.”

soap barked a laugh. ghost cocked his head.

price, though, was intrigued.

“kill ‘im?” he echoed. then, he lifted her hand, yanking the diamond ring off her finger and pinching it between his fingers. “wha’ bout this? just a rock, is it? ‘till death do us part’ mean nothin’ to ya?”

“words don’t mean much when you’re forced to say them, sir.”

“forced?” price questions, narrowed eyes flicking across your features. he looks to your husband, then, who’s soiled his pants. “tha fuck is this muppet forcin’?”

price is quiet for a while, watching your husband as he wriggles in ghost’s grip. when he meets your gaze, there’s a small, barely-there curve to his chapped lips. “you really want ‘im dead?” there’s an amusement to his tone, a disbelief.

you steel your gaze. “yes.”

the curve of his lips bends into a grin, and you’ve barely exhaled before he’s lifting his pistol, aiming it at your husband’s head, and shooting.

limp, he falls to the ground.

you don’t flinch. in fact your voice is steady when you state, “the money’s in the chest, beneath the seats.”

once again, price approaches you. grips your jaw, tilts your face this way and that. he taps your cheek twice, and says, “you heard the woman. soap, get the money. gaz, tie ‘er up, she’s with me.”

[mariamlovesyou]

bisan's live video on her 2nd acc is piercing my heart

she started off expressing (in arabic) how sick she is of the constant sharing, photographing, capturing, having to speak english and how she wants to speak in her native tongue instead.

she explained that the leaflets that were dropped again are ordering evacuation to rafah so they are forced into the sinai, and how impossible it is for over 2 million people to go to an area that's only 151 square km, so many have no choice but to stay in khan younis. they are trapped and have no international passports. rafah is the southernmost point of palestine after khan younis and she said - this part in english - "after rafah there is no more palestine. if we are forced into rafah there is no more palestine."

someone asked her if she has eaten and whether they have any food, her response was no, not at all; one loaf of bread has to be divided between everyone in her tent.

the video kept freezing because of how bad the internet service is in gaza right now so i lost bits and pieces, but at some point an older woman joined the live, a journalist outside of the country. it's unclear whether they knew each other previously, but a lot of warmth was exchanged. the woman got tears out of bisan when she told her "dont listen to people who tell you to be strong, i don't want you to be strong, i want you to be you. if you are sad i want to know, if you are happy i want to know." she explained that she tried entering rafah but the occupation refuses to let any foreign journalists in anymore.

after the woman left, bisan talked about her life before october. she said her life was beautiful and fruitful and any source of strife was solely on israeli hands; namely her inability to travel or pursue placements for her education outside of palestine. other than that she had nothing to complain about. if im able to watch the video after it ends, i will add any pieces i missed

[whetstonefires]

I do have a piece of writing advice, actually.

See, the first time I grew parsnips, I fucked it up good. I hadn't seen parsnips sprouting before, right, and in my eagerness I was keeping a close eye on the row. And every time I saw some intruding grass coming up, I twitched it right out, and went back to anticipating the germination of my parsnips.

But it turns out parsnips take a bit longer than anything else I'd ever grown to distinguish themselves visually. It's just the two little split leaves, almost identical to a newly seeded bit of kentucky bluegrass when they first come up, and they take a good bit to establish themselves and spread out flat before the main stem with its first distinctive scallopy leaf gets going.

I didn't get any parsnips, not that year, because I'd weeded them all out as soon as they showed their faces, with my 'ugh no that's grass' twitchy horticulture finger.

The next year, having in retrospect come to suspect what had happened, I left the row alone and didn't weed anything until all the sprouts coming up had all had a bit to set in and show their colors, and I've grown lots of parsnips since. They're kind of a slow crop, not a huge return, but I like them and watching them grow and digging them up, and their papery little seeds in the second year, if you don't harvest one either on purpose or because you misjudged the frost, so it's worth it.

Anyway, whenever I see someone stuck and struggling with their writing who's gotten into that frustration loop of typing a few words, rejecting them, backspacing, and starting again, I find myself thinking, you gotta stop weeding your parsnips, man.

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...