Novelist Wannabe

[cywscross]

Hi! I was wondering if you might be able to please try to help me find a Kuroko no Basket fic? It was a series on AO3 and it was mainly about Takao/Midorima. I think there were also Kuroko/Kagami stories in the same universe, and that Aomine and Kise were sort of friends with benefits but both of them actually wanted to be with Kuroko. What I remember mainly was that Takao helped Midorima a lot with his anxiety and superstitions, and Akashi was a bad guy who had suggestive photos of (1/2)

(2/2) Midorima from their middle school days that he used against Midorima and had also threatened to burn down MMidorma's family's house. That's all I can remember and I haven't been able to find it at all, so I thought I should try asking you in case it sounds familiar. Thank you very much for your help either way!

I don’t read a whole lot of KnB fics, and the ones I do are mostly Kuroko-centric so I don’t know this one. Anybody recognize it?

[darklilac]

I don’t know this one either. Anyone? #Helpfindfanfic #kurokonobasket #Yaoi

[toadsandtiels]

Any time someone tells me birds aren’t descended from dinosaurs, I show them this.

[darklilac]

.....

[karazrel]

og6 + character traits

[darklilac]

So truth but also missing a couple traits like Paranoia

[captainkirkk]

all im saying is that someone needs to put aizawa under a control quirk and force him to fight deku (w all the years of training he has on him), who refuses to do too much damage to him bc he's scared of permanently hurting his teacher, so instead just plays defense as much as he can but otherwise just lets himself get hurt while trying to figure out how to interrupt the quirk. is that so much to ask?

Aizawa under a mind control quirk, forced to fight his student without any of his usual restraint. Midoriya is a good hero student, but he’s just that - a student. Aizawa has so much experience on him.

And Midoriya would be scared to fight back fully. He knows a few ways he could try and incapacitate Aizawa - but that would involve really badly injuring him, and he just can’t, not after they were kidnapped together, not after Aizawa has done so much to protect him.

And Aizawa’s reaction, coming back to himself and realising that he’s the reason that Midoriya is so injured. That Midoriya chose to play defence rather than risk badly injuring or even killing him, even though Midoriya is at such a massive disadvantage in a fight between them, even though Aizawa would rather that, in that situation, his kids kill him rather than risk him killing them……

Someone please write this.

[queenangst]

[Edit: Read on AO3]

Aizawa Shouta is a hero, but he doesn’t like fighting. It is a necessity; he is good at it because he needs to be—there are people who need his aid, his protection. There aren’t many sources of joy in his life anyway, and hurting someone isn’t really on the list. Restraint and diffusing a situation before it has a chance to explode is Eraserhead’s preferred method. 

When he blinks back into awareness it feels like stepping through a doorway. Sometimes your senses shift. You feel the passing, the boundary; you are in one space, and then another. And sometimes, for a fraction of a second, you forget why you’d even crossed in the first place. Shouta presses a hand to the back of his neck and tries to figure out why he can’t remember. 

His fingers hurt. He pulls a hand back, and his knuckles are raw; Shouta runs his thumbs along the ridges and valleys and searches his mind for an imprint. A leftover echo of the curl of his hand in a fist, a memory of a punch—or many, but nothing really comes. 

A fight. 

Shouta takes a step backward. Assesses. 

He’s not at U.A. Somewhere else; a back alley down some street. The cool touch of evening cradles him, and when Shouta glances up it’s a lovely darkness that’s beginning to settle around him. His capture weapon is missing. There’s a dull pain at his side, and a strange set of scratches around his wrists, but no other injuries. 

And the last thing he remembers— well, the first thing he remembers is that he doesn’t. He doesn’t really remember. Being here. Fighting.

Leaving campus grounds for patrol he does remember. Something tugs at his memory. A figure waiting at the gates, a curve of a smile. Then nothing. 

A villain, then. Shouta scours his mind. He’s pissed off a few of those, but not any more lately than usual. A memory manipulation Quirk, perhaps, enough to catch him off guard and pull him away from U.A. to… to do what? To drag him into a fight and leave him still standing? To strand him here in the fog of his own mind, wondering what footsteps he’d left behind?

He pats himself down. His phone is gone, too, and Shouta suppresses a groan. He’ll walk back to U.A. alone, then, and figure this out by himself. Get a replacement for his capture weapon. Check the security feed. Another night with little sleep. He scans the area, but there isn’t anything that stands out to him: no villain, no notes or clues, and certainly no neon sign saying “Restore Your Memories Now!” as nice as it’d be.

A flash of a memory. A dark room, and the sound of crying; Shouta runs his tongue along his teeth and then feels roughness where he’s bit at the inside of his cheek. An old habit, to keep him from crying out.

Shouta turns on his heel and is about to leave when he hears it. A breath. It’s hardly breathing, really, more like a wheeze than anything, but Shouta spins. He brings his fists up, the only defense he has left. 

“Hello?” 

His gaze tracks through the alley. No one above. No one— but then Shouta catches the figure crumpled by the wall, hidden in shadow and easily mistaken for a pile of things, or perhaps garbage. He takes a step, then another, and the person on the ground shifts. 

Small, is Shouta’s first thought, followed by young. And hurt is the third as Shouta draws closer and crouches down—

A face spills out into the light, and Shouta only manages not to leap back as a set of startling eyes blink slowly and peer up at him. A set of dark, unruly hair; freckles dotted under a set of bruises; the familiar mouth moves as if trying to taste words before saying them, and eventually settles into something of a smile. 

Shouta’s hands hover. He puts one hand and feels the motion like it’s through water. He can’t put the pieces together, but eventually his palm meets a warm shoulder. Midoriya shudders when they touch. 

“Midoriya,” he says. He’s seized by a violent urge to- to shake his student, to grasp him and demand answers to questions he hasn’t come up with yet. Shouta slides a hand under Midoriya’s side and tries to figure out what’s happened. Civilian clothes. Torn and dirty, and there’s blood but not much of a visible injury. Midoriya is limp and quiet. 

“Midoriya,” Shouta tries again, and his student looks back at him. Shouta can’t decipher the look on his face. Relief, he thinks, and tiredness. And fear, a hint of it. 

Midoriya licks his lips, swallows, and says, “Sensei…”

“Who—” His head is spinning with questions and questions and questions. Shouta’s careful as he turns Midoriya over and examines him— bruising everywhere. Midoriya draws in a rattling breath, and Shouta asks quietly to touch him, pressing down gently and feeling a swelling area, the sharp flinch of pain. A broken rib, maybe more. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

“Can you walk?” is his first question. Midoriya’s shoulders sink in a no. “I’m going to carry you, then, problem child, and we’re going to the nearest possible hospital. Okay?” The shoulders shake a little, but Midoriya doesn’t protest, only whines when Shouta lifts him and stands. 

“Stay awake,” Shouta orders, and Midoriya nods. There’s a bit of blood around his mouth. “What happened? A villain?” 

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking. 

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes. 

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you… were there. With… me.” 

They step into the soft circle of a street light and Shouta has to stop, because cold yellow light sinks into Midoriya’s face, slips across it and down as it catches in a set of tears. Shouta shifts his arms, and Midoriya’s head moves to expose a darkening ring of mottled bruises around his neck. Midoriya tugs on Shouta’s shirt, and their eyes snap together. 

“Who hurt you?”

Midoriya shakes his head. 

“Don’t remember,” he whispers, and Shouta’s chest goes so tight he almost believes there’s something in his lungs. 

“You… don’t remember?” Shouta asks. If his thoughts about a memory Quirk are correct, then maybe whoever has tampered with Shouta’s memory has done the same to Midoriya. No trace. Nothing left behind. Everything erased.

“No,” Midoriya says, and he really starts crying. “Don’t remember, sensei.” 

Shouta doesn’t understand what that means. Don’t remember. There’s already something trickling through his mind, spurned by the feeling of carrying his student, by the aching of his knuckles and the dullness in his feet that means he’s been running. Don’t remember. But it’s there— He doesn’t remember, but his body does. His body remembers the fighting. 

“You want me to forget?” Shouta asks, and starts walking again. The streets begin to rearrange themselves to make sense. They’re close to Musutafu, close to home. “Why- do you want me to forget?”

Midoriya breathes. He gasps a little in pain. “You- you- you were protecting me,” he bursts out, and his voice echoes a little in the street. “You were just trying to- you were keeping me safe, you didn’t do anything wrong. You protected me!” 

It’s so fierce, so drawn with conviction that Shouta has to believe him. Yet there’s a desperation to it—the edge of his words are pleading and weeping blood. 

“Okay, Midoriya,” Shouta murmurs. “I want to protect you.”

He recognizes the want in Midoriya’s eyes. Shouta has to accept this as truth—and there isn’t any reason to believe otherwise. In any situation, it’s the students first and Shouta second. And it’s still students first, Shouta second. 

They make it to the hospital. Shouta is loath to leave Midoriya’s side, but he’s not allowed to go with him. There’s a sort of terror in Midoriya’s eyes and a sort of relief that he tries to hide, so Shouta promises his student he will visit when he can, and he’ll call Midoriya Inko and All Might and everyone else. 

Shouta’s forced to be examined himself. He fights that, but it’s a losing battle. No major injuries. No damage sustained. But he does ask about his memory…

“A Quirk-induced effect, perhaps,” the doctor says. “A possibility we cannot rule out.” No sign of being cracked over the head hard enough to forget the last two days. 

“Memory?”

“It’s hard to tell. Anything with the mind is difficult to pin down. But— you might not also want to remember.” 

Shouta’s mouth thins into a line. It’s not the answer he’s looking for.

“I want to,” he grinds out. He wants to know what happened. He wants to know who did this—who put him here, who put Midoriya here. The last time he remembers seeing Midoriya clearly is in the common room, laughing. “I want to remember.” 

“Don’t push yourself,” he’s warned, and Shouta tries not to roll his eyes. 

“If we’re done, I have phone calls to make. And I want to see my student.” 

They don’t let him, not for another hour as they make sure his brain isn’t about to implode any more than it usually does—which is quite a bit, he tells them, because he’s in charge of twenty students who sometimes deliberately try to make his life difficult. But Midoriya, from some other room, confirms that there’s a Quirk involved; and that sends Shouta in for a round of tests that result in nothing but frustration. 

Finally he’s allowed to go with some careful instructions… Shouta doesn’t remember those either, but that’s a choice. He calls Nedzu first. Everyone else is accounted for; it’s just Midoriya, the one kid who can’t catch a break and who wouldn’t give himself one if his life depended on it. He calls Midoriya’s mother second and listens to her thanks through tears, and then another call to Detective Tsukauchi. 

When he’s done he sits in the hospital hallway, staring at his hands and turning them around. Clean and bandaged. Under the bandages his skin shifts, and prickles. Something comes back to him, like film that’s developed with a smudge. He’s holding Midoriya, body curved around his student as a shield. He can’t remember what he says. 

Even though Shouta wants to see him—to see Midoriya—there’s an undercurrent of memory that makes him pause. He flips his hands over. Then curls his fingers into fists and stands, and swings his arm in a forward motion. 

His fist catches against soft skin, and Shouta is relentless as he hits, and hits. His opponent doesn’t fight back. 

Shouta can almost see the villain. He can almost see the shape of their mouth as a word is spilling out of it, and Shouta cannot hear the memory but he makes his mouth move in the same way, and, the word, he tastes it, and. 

He stares blankly at the wall as his own mouth moves and drags the word sensei into the open. 

There is bruising on Midoriya’s arms, on his battered body; worse injuries hiding underneath; a ring around his neck— Shouta is seized by a thought and shoves his sleeves up, bile rising in his throat as he stumbles back and hits the wall. There’s scratches on his wrists, like from fingernails, and he doesn’t have the memory but he doesn’t need it to imagine his own hands fitting around Midoriya’s neck. Desperate fingers clawing at Shouta’s wrists, at his arms. 

“Midoriya’s asking for you.” 

Shouta glances up at the nurse who’s stopped, watching him. “He asked me to tell you he’d really like to see you.”

“I can’t.” 

A part of him is responding but the rest of him is just— the rest of him can’t— 

“That kid needs comfort.” The nurse nods. “He needs you.” 

“You don’t understand. I can’t.” 

They both look at the door. Shouta takes a step and it hurts, but it can’t hurt as much as someone you trust hurting you. He takes another step. He wants to run. He wants someone to blame, but the blame always seems to circle back around in the shape of a noose to snare around his own neck. 

Shouta makes it through the doorway. It’s like blinking into awareness. Rousing yourself from a deep fog. Sometimes your senses shift. You feel the passing. You are in one state, and then another. For Shouta this is fear giving way to truth; the moment he steps into Midoriya’s room and they see each other, Shouta knows. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Midoriya says. Those things come easy to him, Shouta’s noticed—white lies, things that are meant to be real but fall just shy of it. But it’s usually when Midoriya says, it’s fine, and almost means it, or I’m not hurt. It wasn’t your fault is false and they both know it, and it roots Shouta to the ground. 

“It— you don’t get to say that.” Shouta pauses, then says it. “I hurt you.” 

“No.”

“I hurt you,” Shouta says again, surging a step forward; and he sees Midoriya flinch, and they both startle into silence at the small movement. That’s a confirmation. 

“No,” Midoriya finally says. He struggles, then sits up; clean and tended to, he looks even worse. Or maybe it’s just knowing that Shouta had done that. “You were- trying to protect me.” 

“You didn’t want me to remember.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out like an accusation. 

“It wasn’t—” Tears spring in Midoriya’s eyes. “That wasn’t you! It wasn’t your fault!” 

“I tried to kill you,” Shouta says, angry that Midoriya wants to defend him because Shouta doesn’t deserve it. “Tell me that isn’t my fault.”

“You weren’t in control,” Midoriya cries. “It wasn’t you. You wouldn’t have done that. You tried to protect me, before. You- you were just- it just, when we tried to, they thought, that wasn’t you.” 

Shouta doesn’t know how to fix this. He doesn’t know what to do. The fight… Midoriya wouldn’t have fought back, and he would’ve let Shouta kill him— Shouta wouldn’t have held back, either—

“You should have stopped me.” 

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Midoriya says. He lifts his arms and his mouth wobbles, finding a smile. “You were… I couldn’t hurt you. I could take it.” 

Take it. Take the hits. Midoriya’s strong, but he’s still a student. Small, his mind supplies mockingly, young. 

“No,” he spits, and tastes venom, “no. Better me than you, Midoriya. You understand me?” 

“You’re not understanding,” Midoriya says, and Shouta feels drawn to him. His body moves before he can tell it not to, but this is not a Quirk. As he walks closer he sees flashes of memory that make his head hurt, and he thinks of the feeling of his fists hitting his student and how Midoriya must have made himself defenseless, must have been Quirkless too. “Sensei, please.”

Sensei, please. A ringing in his ears. 

“I won’t hurt you again,” Shouta promises, because it’s the only thing he can. It makes him sick. It makes his bones rattle like they know something he doesn’t, like he can’t even make that promise. Again means he’s hurt Midoriya already, again means it’s already too late. 

Midoriya reaches out with a trembling hand. Shouta can’t make his hands move, because he’s— he’s scared they’ll do something he doesn’t want them to. But Midoriya’s waiting; Shouta lifts one hand to press their palms together. 

“You didn’t—” A tear traces down Midoriya’s cheek. “Sensei, you… you promised you were going to protect me.” 

The words cleave through his chest. He doesn’t deserve to be here. Shouta doesn’t deserve this; he wishes he could carve something out of himself, like giving a part of him away could make up for the pain. 

“Do you remember?” Midoriya whispers. “When we were… there, together, you were holding me and you said you were going to protect me.” 

He remembers now. And a few things that follow, a few more pieces that slot into place. But it’s only serving as a reminder that Shouta’s failed. He’s broken his promise. He’s failed his duty—as a hero, as a teacher. There are some things you have to work for the rest of your life for forgiveness; this is one of them. 

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he says, “and I am—completely sorry… that I failed you—”

Midoriya’s fingers lace through his, and he squeezes. “You protected me.”

“No—”

“You stopped, when I said that,” Midoriya says. His eyes search Shouta’s. “We were- fighting, and I said, you promised to protect me, and you stopped.” 

“I didn’t…”

“Please,” Midoriya says. It is with conviction. It is with desperation. It is with a challenge, and a fight. “You fought it for me. And you stopped. That’s- that’s enough, sensei. Please.”

“It’s not,” Shouta replies, shaking his head, “it’s never going to be enough.” 

“It is for me,” Midoriya tells him, and reaches to the person who hurt him. Midoriya takes his shirt and tugs him closer, then rests his head against Shouta’s chest, placing his trust in the crook of Shouta’s neck. Shouta lifts an arm and places it, heavy, across Midoriya’s back. “It’s enough for me, sensei.” 

Shouta doesn’t think he’ll ever believe that; there is so much more that is unexplored and unexplained, so many nightmares waiting to present themselves, so many memories resting just out of reach. But Midoriya’s hand stays, holding on, and Shouta holds him back and doesn’t dare to let go.

[that-lemonade-stand]

ASL BROTHERS <3

[darklilac]

This makes me wistful

[absolem0]

Ichigo with long hair or what if

[darklilac]

Hell yeah- so sexy and adorable at the same time!

[uraichievents]

Hello! It’s that time of the year again, December’s just a few months away, which means our annual UraIchi mini-event is coming up. I’m hoping to keep it simple this year, with a broad overarching theme for writers and artists to contribute to. As the name suggests, anything related to the winter season counts!

Requirements:

1) The ship is of course Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke or Kurosaki & Urahara Kisuke. Romantic or platonic is fine, and if you want to write them in a poly relationship with one or more other people, that’s okay too so long as Ichigo and Kisuke are a main focus of the fanwork.

2) Pick a winter theme! For this, I would say use your own judgement, but pretty much everything from weather to holidays to the general month of December would fall into this category. Some examples might include:

Christmas/New Year

Kisuke’s birthday

snowed in on a road trip/in a cabin in the woods/at a hotel

perpetual winter apocalypse

winter gods/spirits

Shinigami war extending into the coldest season of the year

falling through the ice/hypothermia

snowball fights

cuddling for warmth XD

3) If you’re writing, the minimum word count is 100 words.

4) Works should be completed.

Post Date:

Collection will open on December 31st, 2020, 12am (PST)

Tags:

If you’re posting on tumblr as well, remember to include #uraichi prompt challenge 5 within the first five tags of your post.

AO3 Collection:

I will post an announcement with the link closer to the posting date.

[darklilac]

I wanna join this event but I don’t know if I can remember it/to.

[cywscross]

Epic Seven graphics be way too fucking gorgeous, with a ridiculous amount of plotlines to follow.

[kittykat2010]

S2E14 is Available in English!

It’s here! The episode where Wei WuXian becomes a badass! Not saying he wasn’t already a badass, just now he’s x10 more!!

Episode Fourteen: Mega | Google Drive | MP4 | Cover Art 

Thank you @iarrod for the translations!

With this, we’re getting really close to the end of S2 main episodes (there are 16 overall - 2 left).

[asckj1]

Mo Dao Zu Shi Audio Drama S1 Extra - Highlights - Lan WangJi

Hello everyone! ^v^

After a long break, here’s another fun extra from the Mo Dao Zu Shi Audio Drama Season 1- Highlights - Lan WangJi

Credits: Raws: Akit0 (Thank you~~ :D) Translation: Gwyn-chan (Thank you too~~ Mm Mm typing master XD) Timing, Typesetting, re-encoding: ascii

Download Links:

Soft subbed (MKV) | Hard subbed (MP4)

Notes: 1) Please play either the MKV or MP4 files using VLC Player or Media Player Classic softwares. Quicktime software many a times doesn’t play the audio properly.

2) Coming up next - (unless there’s any delay in getting tl scripts) (i) S2 Extra Villainous  Friends (ii) S1 Extra Highlights - Lan SiZhui and Lan JingYi (iii) S1 Extra - A Qing (iv) S1 Extra Xue Yang (v) S2 Extra Metal Hook (vi) Free talks from S1 and S2 + More

3) If anyone can translate from Chinese to English and would like to help out with translating the Free talks (there are quite a few of them left still) please message me :))

Enjoy!! :D

[soundlesswind]

Preview of my guest art for a NatsuKomi anthology. I’ll post it up later in the year.

[absolem0]

guess, who’s been rereading bnha fanfics lately, and as result getting many feelings?

so yeah, it’s for story “Old light still slants through” by @lunarctus

[nerdygirlnoodles]

Okay, but seriously on the topic of straight people being so overly concerned about their children being exposed to homosexuality…

As some of you know, I am a makeup artist in a holistic beauty boutique in a very wealthy area of eastern New York. The week before Halloween I was offering simple costume makeup designs for both adults and children. So my last client of the evening was a 15 year old girl who came in to get her makeup done for the Halloween dance at her school. I was enjoying a conversation with both the girl and her mother when suddenly the topic of transgender came up. I got a little nervous because I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut when I hear people speaking negatively about these sorts of topics and as I mentioned, my store is in a very upscale, white, conservative area…

Anyway, the girl starts telling us that her friend prefers to be a boy now. She says it very simply and comfortably and it made me happy to see her talk about it as if it was really no big deal.

Her mother says

“How does she even know what transgender is though? She’s a little young to be making a decision like that. I really think the media is taking things too far with all this gay stuff. I’m not against it or anything, but didn’t you just tell me two boys in your class are dating too?”

The girl said that yes, two boys she knew were dating and another boy she knew was gay also. (And she also corrected the pronouns her mother used for her friend)

“I don’t mind that she knows that homosexuality is,” the mother said. “But I don’t think it should be taught at such a young age. Did you know it’s on Disney channel now?”

It took me a moment to respond, I just kept painting the girl’s face until I could figure out what I wanted to say.

“Well,” I said. “We tend to teach heterosexuality literally from the time a child is born. Most children’s books and movies are even centered around a romance of some kind like a Prince and a Princess for example. There’s rarely a children’s movie that comes out where the main male and female character don’t end up marrying each other in the end. If we don’t have a problem flooding our children’s minds with heterosexuality from the time they are able to sit up and watch a movie on their own, what is so wrong with showing them two boys or two girls being in love? We aren’t showing them sex. We aren’t showing them anything inappropriate. Since when is love inappropriate? If we show them love in all it’s forms (be it gay or straight) from an early age, they will see that it’s all perfectly normal and natural and maybe we can finally put homophobic the past…”

The woman considered this for a second and then said “I just feel like they see it and then they start to think that they might be too.”

“And maybe they are. But isn’t it better for them to know that it’s okay? They aren’t hurting anyone.”

Then the girl said. “No ones going around just thinking they are gay because they know what gay is, mom. I know what a chicken is, that doesn’t mean I’m going to wake up tomorrow and start clucking.”

I loved this kid. I hope she does well in all of her endeavors

[kamorth]

I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and start clucking

[darklilac]

I wish my mom would be like that.

[muslim-daily]

China is putting Uyghur Muslims into Concentration Camps

This is one of the greatest attrocities and oppression taking place in the world today yet still it is one of the least talked about issues. It’s estimated possibly over 2 million Uyghur Muslims have been put into these concentration camps which China calls “re-edcuation camps” and the goals is to wipe out and clean them from their cultural and religious identity. They have built dozens of these camps with fortified walls and barbed wire fences which they hide from the world media.

China sees Islam as an ‘ideological disease’. Many of the people put in these camps don’t make it out alive due to to the harsh living conditions inside. Many leave behind children who are then sent to government run orphanages and are brainwashed from a young age removing their cultural and religious identity.

Uyghur Muslims can be arrested and put in these camps for the smallest of reasons and every step they take is monitored by the authorities. Facial recognition cameras and high tech equipment has been deployed in East Turkestan turning it into a complete surveillance state. This isn’t fantasy or ‘fake news’. This is happening now in East Turkestan. Don’t let history repeat itself. Share and let the world know the truth.

[moon--and--star]

please boost this!!!!

[trapbinch]

I believe every word here because I remember China’s infiltration in African countries especially Uganda. Forcing the women to marry Chinese men and give up their culture as a way to maintain tight control of their minerals and resources. The Chinese are the new colonizers but they are getting away with because no one is aware of it. They are being a lot smarter about it and thus history repeats itself. Please spread awareness about their literal concentration/ death camps.

[valaid]

Here’s a link to amnesty international about this issue

And another one

it’s not fake, it’s happening and it needs to stop. China has admitted to the camps, saying they are free vocational camps. But reports from amnesty workers in China states otherwise.

[valaid]

I want to clarify this as I don’t know why people just don’t read the links:

Yeah, there are no proof from OP and the video does have its flaws and things mentioned might not be true. I would have doubted it if I didn’t know the news from Amnesty International. And there are things in the video that I do wonder about.

Which is why I provided the links. Because you can then read that the camps are true and there are reports of torture for re-education purposes.

Among various things. So even if you don’t believe the burning of corpses and everything, at least read the links and know that there are reports that state these camps are not what they are said to be.

So no it’s not fake; the camps are real. It’s happening and if the reports are true, it needs to stop. And to spread the word so that it doesn’t go under the radar is a way to help make sure that UN etc do their job to check it out.

Read what Amnesty say. It’s more scaled down, so you don’t get the immediate red flag and can actually think it’s a problem.

[lesbianshepard]

A giant, black, sarcophagus has been found in Alexandria and I could not be more excited about it. 

If we do open it we could find

The tomb of Alexander the Great (Coolest possible answer. Probably the coolest thing we’ve found in my lifetime unless aliens decide to show up.)

Rando important Egyptian Pharaoh ( Also cool answer. Definitely an awesome find.)

An ancient and unspeakable evil (We haven’t had a good ol’ doomsday level curse in a good long while. Definitely overdue for this one)

It’s a win/win/win scenario. 

[eraemx]

As someone that has grown up surrounded by beaches and done surf life saving, I know how the sea works. Lots of people dont. Every summer multiple tourists die here because they don’t respect the sea, if you’re going to the coast, here’s a thing I saw on Facebook.

[i-amneveralone-deactivated20201]

wow.

[theluminousnight]

I grew up by the ocean and learnt basic lifesaver shit alongside it so I CANNOT stress enough the importance of knowing how to avoid and escape a rip

[sosuperawesome]

Magic Wands and Dragon Wand Stand, by Queenie88 on Etsy