haha hey i love the blood dripping from your face and the animal rage in your eyes whats your pronouns

Janaina Medeiros
Sade Olutola
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
sheepfilms
dirt enthusiast
tumblr dot com
AnasAbdin

Andulka
d e v o n
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

Product Placement
YOU ARE THE REASON

No title available
occasionally subtle
Peter Solarz

PR's Tumblrdome
trying on a metaphor
Three Goblin Art
KIROKAZE

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Germany
seen from Syria

seen from Morocco

seen from Mexico

seen from Singapore

seen from Singapore
seen from Brazil

seen from France
seen from Italy

seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Germany
@andtheycalledherstormbringer
haha hey i love the blood dripping from your face and the animal rage in your eyes whats your pronouns
i’m okay with fictional men becoming unhinged over the loves of their lives actually
It's happening! The Strange Religion: Speculative Fiction Anthology has launched and till May 11th you can download it for free to read Dying Rivers and Broken Hearts about the origins of the sea dragon Pasig from my WIP One Half A Dead Witch https://t.co/O2FHyHWSPl
“MY ARROGANCE KNOWS NO BOUNDS AND I WILL MAKE NO PEACE TODAY, AND YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO FIND A WOMAN LIKE ME” | Jenny Holzer, “Projections”
Important note : this is a projection by artist Jenny Holzer, but the text comes from a poem by Arab American writer Mohja Kahf, ’Ishtar Awakens in Chicago’. Holzer used Kahf’s work with her full agreement, I believe they’ve collaborated several times, but please check out the full context of the poem below.
My arrogance knows no bounds And I will make no peace today And you shall be so lucky To find a woman like me
Today neither will the East claim me nor the West admit me Today my belly is a well wherein serpents are coiled ready to poison the world, and you should be so lucky.
All I have is my arrogance I will teach it to lean back and smoke a cigarette in your faces, and you should be so lucky
No I will make no peace even though my hands are empty I will talk as big as I please I will be all or nothing And I will jump before the heavy trucks And I will saw off my leg at the thigh before I bend one womanly knee
I am poison And you will drink me And you should be so lucky.
For the @guardian review.
Words to replace said, except this actually helps
I got pretty fed up with looking for words to replace said because they weren’t sorted in a way I could easily use/find them for the right time. So I did some myself.
IN RESPONSE TO Acknowledged Answered Protested
INPUT/JOIN CONVERSATION/ASK Added Implored Inquired Insisted Proposed Queried Questioned Recommended Testified
GUILTY/RELUCTANCE/SORRY Admitted Apologized Conceded Confessed Professed
FOR SOMEONE ELSE Advised Criticized Suggested
JUST CHECKING Affirmed Agreed Alleged Confirmed
LOUD Announced Chanted Crowed
LEWD/CUTE/SECRET SPY FEEL Appealed Disclosed Moaned
ANGRY FUCK OFF MATE WANNA FIGHT Argued Barked Challenged Cursed Fumed Growled Hissed Roared Swore
SMARTASS Articulated Asserted Assured Avowed Claimed Commanded Cross-examined Demanded Digressed Directed Foretold Instructed Interrupted Predicted Proclaimed Quoted Theorized
ASSHOLE Bellowed Boasted Bragged
NERVOUS TRAINWRECK Babbled Bawled Mumbled Sputtered Stammered Stuttered
SUAVE MOTHERFUCKER Bargained Divulged Disclosed Exhorted
FIRST OFF Began
LASTLY Concluded Concurred
WEAK PUSY Begged Blurted Complained Cried Faltered Fretted
HAPPY/LOL Cajoled Exclaimed Gushed Jested Joked Laughed
WEIRDLY HAPPY/EXCITED Extolled Jabbered Raved
BRUH, CHILL Cautioned Warned
ACTUALLY, YOU’RE WRONG Chided Contended Corrected Countered Debated Elaborated Objected Ranted Retorted
CHILL SAVAGE Commented Continued Observed Surmised
LISTEN BUDDY Enunciated Explained Elaborated Hinted Implied Lectured Reiterated Recited Reminded Stressed
BRUH I NEED U AND U NEED ME Confided Offered Urged
FINE Consented Decided
TOO EMO FULL OF EMOTIONS Croaked Lamented Pledged Sobbed Sympathized Wailed Whimpered
JUST SAYING Declared Decreed Mentioned Noted Pointed out Postulated Speculated Stated Told Vouched
WASN’T ME Denied Lied
EVIL SMARTASS Dictated Equivocated Ordered Reprimanded Threatened
BORED Droned Sighed
SHHHH IT’S QUIET TIME Echoed Mumbled Murmured Muttered Uttered Whispered
DRAMA QUEEN Exaggerated Panted Pleaded Prayed Preached
OH SHIT Gasped Marveled Screamed Screeched Shouted Shrieked Yelped Yelled
ANNOYED Grumbled Grunted Jeered Quipped Scolded Snapped Snarled Sneered
ANNOYING Nagged
I DON’T REALLY CARE BUT WHATEVER Guessed Ventured
I’M DRUNK OR JUST BEING WEIRDLY EXPRESSIVE FOR A POINT/SARCASM Hooted Howled Yowled
I WONDER Pondered Voiced Wondered
OH, YEAH, WHOOPS Recalled Recited Remembered
SURPRISE BITCH Revealed
IT SEEMS FAKE BUT OKAY/HA ACTUALLY FUNNY BUT I DON’T WANT TO LAUGH OUT LOUD Scoffed Snickered Snorted
BITCHY Tattled Taunted Teased
reblog to save a writer
Reblog because the titles for each category are comedy gold.
Ermenegildo Zegna F/W 2018 Menswear Milan Fashion Week
Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it's something that's almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.
Carpathia received Titanic’s distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.
(Californian’s exact position at the time is…controversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanic’s distress rockets. It’s uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)
Carpathia’s Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanic’s aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.
All of Carpathia’s lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.
I don’t know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.
Carpathia had three dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awake–prepping a ship for disaster relief isn’t quiet–and all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.
And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.
Here’s the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining rooms–which, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when she’d done that, he asked her to go faster.
I need you to understand that you simply can’t push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only reckless–it’s difficult to maneuver–but it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They can’t do it. It can’t be done.
Carpathia’s absolute do-or-die, the-engines-can’t-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.
No one would have asked this of them. It wasn’t expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a respondibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.
They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.
This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanic’s last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.
In total, 705 people of Titanic’s original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.
At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.
I think the least we can do is remember them for it.
wow okay i’m crying now
“And even as he watched the rescue unfolding that morning, he would have understood that for the living, everything which could have been done had been done: not a single survivor was lost or injured being brought aboard the Carpathia. For those who had gone down with the Titanic, save for reverencing their memory at the service later that day, there was nothing more that he or anyone could do. Rostron’s duty now was as he always saw it: to the living.”
I looked up a bit about this because the post is so movingly written that when I read it aloud to my husband and mother they both wept like babies, and something else really struck me about this story.
So Carpathia was not a top-end luxury liner. Her reputation was for being Jolly Comfortable - she was very broad in her proportions, and not super-duper fast, and the result was that she didn’t rock so much on the waves and you couldn’t particularly hear/feel the engines. She was solid and dependable, and lots of people liked using her, but she therefore occupied a lesser niche than Titanic or Olympian or whatever - and crucially, as a result of that, she only had one radio operator on board. This means she only had radio ops for a certain window in the day, unlike Titanic, which had 24 hour radio ops.
So on that night, when Titanic went down, Carpathia’s wireless operator - one Harold Cottam - clocked off his shift at midnight, and went to bed. While he was getting ready for bed, though, he left the transmitter on for the hell of it, and therefore picked up a transmission from Cape Race in Newfoundland, the closest transmitting tower sending messages to the ships. They told him that they had a backlog of private traffic for Titanic that wasn’t getting through. So, even though his shift was over, and it was now 11 minutes past bloody midnight, and he just wanted to go to bed, Harold Cottam decided that nonetheless, he’d be helpful, and let the Titanic know they had messages waiting.
And that’s how he received the Titanic’s distress signal. In spite of no longer being on shift to receive it, and therefore in order to send Carpathia galloping to Titanic’s rescue, and thus saving 705 people.
All because Harold Cottam decided one night to be kind.
I dunno. That’s just really stuck with me.
Cottam also ended up staying awake for something like 48 hours straight trying to send survivors messages and a list of survivors home, but due to Carpathia’s limited radio frequency range and with no other ships to act as a relay, this was rather patchy. However, he tried his damn best to make sure the survivor’s messages got home, and was also bombarded with incoming messages of bribes to spill the details of the disaster to the press.
Rostrum had ordered that no messages to the press be sent out of respect to the survivors, for they would have their privacy destroyed as soon as they reached New York. Cottam respected this order, even under extreme duress of fatigue, stress, and the knowledge that in some cases the bribes were almost three times his annual salary.
He eventually went to bed but not before working with one of the rescued Titanic’s radio operators, Harold Bride, to transmit as many messages as possible. Bride was injured (his feet had been crushed in a lifeboat) and had just passed the body of the second of Titanic’s radio operators aboard (Jack Phillips), so neither of them were really in the best shape to keep working, but they did.
In the face of extreme adversity, both men refused to do anything but their duty (and exceeding their duty) not just because Rostrum had ordered it, but because it was the right thing to do. They could have profited considerably from the disaster and they refused for the dignity of the survivors.
This is hopepunk. This is what we can be, what we are, when instinct takes over. This is what we are when we choose to care about each other. We’re not profit machines or units of production or lone fierce wolves in a bitter wilderness. We are people, and we care about people.
This is human nature. Don’t give up on it.
Honestly the gentle giant trope is like… my shit…. like I know it’s cliche or whatever but…. idgaf…… big gentle boys…. I love all of you…
I used to have geese so here’s a tip for everyone:
If a goose is attacking you, don’t run. No matter what, stand your ground. They can fly but when they’re mad, they don’t usually try to fly. Hold your hands in front of you, ready to grasp. When the goose gets close, grab it by the neck bit closest to the head and squeeze. Not tight enough to choke the goose, but tight enough so they can’t break free. You can hold them until they calm down or just do the next step right away. The next step is literally just to chuck them as far as possible and run for your life. It makes the goose know you’re in charge and you have a better chance of getting away. Trust me I’ve done this so many times that I’ve lost count
I can’t tell if this is a shitpost or actual advice. But I do know geese are the fucking worst.
Actual advice! Just yeet a goose
Yeet the geese
yeet the geese
geese the yeet
the yeet geese
My grandmother is a exquisitely skilled yeeter of geese
hi hello i remain in hell here is another piece of that new book idea from the pov of the other protag, gabriel, and also feat. God.
Gabriel kneels.
His body folds into position easily, ankles tucked under thighs. A tent in the middle of a war camp may not be the holiest place in the empire, but packed earth or polished marble make no difference to his bones. His knees remember obeisance; the rest of him follows.
Rings clink against the tin edge of his bowl as he pours water into it from a skin, plain silver bands. A length of black cloth sits underneath it. Unbidden, Perrin’s voice rises to the surface of his mind, like so much of what Perrin does. Why do you have five of the exact same ring?
In case I lose a finger, he’d said blandly, just to see the face the boy would make. It hadn’t disappointed (like so much of what Perrin does).
Sound filters in from outside the tent. The nervous shuffle of too many soldiers brought together in one place, the whinny of horses. Loud praying layers over all of it, a reprimand and annoyance all at once. Gabriel removes the rings, one at a time, and sets the tin bowl down.
The water closes over his fingertips like an eager mouth lapping at his skin. Laughter brushes over the back of his neck; he presses his hands down against the tin, crowding as much of them into the small bowl as he can before pulling them out in fists, knuckling at his closed eyes until colour and shadow swirl into the shape of a man.
Nothing in the tent changes. Nothing outside of it, for that matter. The lyrical chant of prayer drones on, the soldiers are still afraid, the horses still agree with the soldiers. His tin bowl stays still, and yet a pair of smooth, soft hands encircle his wrists, pulling them gently away from his face.
“It’s been some time since you bothered with ritual,” says God. The sweet scent of jonquil begins to seep into the air.
“I don’t like to be presumptuous.”
God smiles. Gabriel still remembers his first ocean crossing, from his homeland into True Capet. The water had felt vast and unknowable, and Gabriel very small, and all of that pales into comparison to looking into this face.
The priests said that to see God was to drown in him. Gabriel had gotten very good at holding his breath.
Keep reading
Today I learned 1) our lord and savior obi-wan kenobi is a thing that was produced and marketed to the Christian community 2) when I promised that I would happily watch 3 hours of ewan mcgregor crying In the desert - our lord heard and answered- behold the obi-wan kenobi movie I was promised
I will never not reblog this
Bitch you gon learn today
you know he dead
The realization on his face is hilarious
“Oh… oh yeah, you’re the JLA member NOT opposed to killing people. Welp… my pants are full.”
Help.
You ever have those times where probably the only thing that keeps the vise-grip of a panic attack at bay would probably involve someone using anesthesia on you? (And lucky me, the primary anesthesia didn’t work.)
Yeah. That’s…been the last…uhm…huh. That’s been the last year and change. It just got worse lately by a factor of I Don’t Know But It Sucks.
Cut for details because this runs long, but I’m trying to provide a full picture and not fail at it, or whine any more than I am right now. (Nope, already failed at not whining. Dammit.)
This is basically me getting down on my knees and begging for survival, except my knees already hurt so let’s just pretend I did that part, okay?
Keep reading
tag yourself I’m angry cat
in your broad experience of terrible YA fantasy, what are the most common and/or egregious sins YA fantasy writers commit?
oh my god
ok this is actually pretty easy
shallow world building. don’t just tell me there are four kingdoms, give me two sentences about vague things about a few of those kingdoms, then drop it at that. stop using ‘jungles’ to pretend you’re not set in a western europe analogue just own up to the western europe analogue my god. stop throwing in 3 vaguely russian sounding words and claiming your world was inspired by russia even though all your other world building is anachronistic to that claim.
inconsistent naming conventions??? why do we get books where half the names are made up and the other half are Bland as Hell i don’t get it????
14 thousand male characters, all of them hot. maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get one female character to be the main characters’ friend but she’s probably a servant and she’ll probably die. i cannot beLIEVE I STILL SEE THIS.
edgy princess can use sword. which i feel needs no more explanation than that.
i hate secret princesses and i need that trope to stop forever.
this really strange inability to mold convincing dialogue in high fantasy? like they don’t know how to make it casual while still setting appropriate? it’s not that difficult? your characters don’t need to sound like they have sticks up their asses for half the book yet also have dialogue that could be taken from a contemporary from the other half?
ya high fantasy is still white and straight as hell with only an occasional variation from that
love triangles between brothers
please stop that
LOVE IS ALWAYS THE ANSWER GUYS
inconsistent magic systems that aren’t actually magic systems at all but super powers thinly veiled as magic for the sake of high fantasy. this one REALLY bothers me and i see it from super talented authors whom i respect. Like I get rationing out magic in different forms and ways but you can do that and still have it be a system with limitations, cause/effect, and consequences. but no. we get super powers instead.
STOP OVERPOWERING YOUR CHARACTERS WITH LITTLE TO NO REPERCUSSIONS ON THEM. THIS ISN’T A VIDEO GAME YOUR CHARACTERS AREN’T LEVELING UP.
i know there’s more but that’s what comes to mind.