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Not a bot

[otherwindow]

Horror movie about a white suburban haunted house woefully unprepared for its new Asian immigrant owners moving in because they've survived worse hauntings in Asia.

[otherwindow]

#the creepy little boy and axe murderer and old lady all in a football huddle in the haunted mirror like guys I think we need a new plan

[bententeren]

i wanna see this from the ghosts’ pov but also they end up in a turf war with some asian ghosts that followed the family from their home country and they are getting their asses kicked soooo bad

[homunculus-argument]

You ever have that "hungry but nauseous" feeling about activities? Like you really really want to do something and you've got plenty of fun hobbies and things you could pick from but all of the options turn your stomach so you're just laying there bored and angry about it.

[homunculus-argument]

Disregard that, the painkillers kicked in. Time to get up and go do some various fuckery to my clothes.

[mikkeneko]

[asdpawprint]

If showering, going outside, etc. happen to be The Activities you're struggling to start, or are otherwise just too big a step to use as a starting point, try: wiggling. Wherever you are, just wiggle whatever body parts are most cooperative. Fingers, toes, hands, legs, arms, etc. Introduce movement and create momentum without the commitment of actually Going Somewhere (which would inherently require doubling that energy expenditure to get back). Also a great gauge of whether the problem is lack of momentum or lack of energy! If wiggling is all I can manage, then energy was the limitation and I need rest to improve it. If wiggling feels good, momentum was the limitation and I've created some to start with!

[fluffygif]

Ipnotico

[brunhiddensmusings]

the music is almost as good as that visual

[catawampuscreations-deactivated]

Turn the sound on! You will not be disappointed, people!

[darth-tella]

FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING GOOD, UNMUTE!!!!

[ihateuverymuch]

n years later this is still one of my favorite videos

[parkertheenigma]

Carl summed up

Dungeon Crawler Carl is currently sitting right next to my swtor hyperfixation, probably not a good thing but I'm having fun

(Donut would love having a purple lightsaber, I just know it)

[mintmatcha]

love arranged marriage unfortunately. the idea of being married to a knight who's not even in the city, but away on the front lines. it's a benefit for your family, so they dont even question sending you to his home to await his return...

[mintmatcha]

you meet him three months into the arrangement. He arrives after the sun has already set, his features set strong in the candlelight. His body is heavy with exhaustion and tension, his eyes dull and tired.

you've grown to hate this place, this castle gifted to him for war victories. The halls are barren, the garden yet to bloom. The maids are pleasant, but they keep their distance, as if you'll strike. Maybe your husband is the kind to hit. You wouldn't know.

When he looks at you, it's only in short bursts, his eyes suddenly low. There's a long stretch of silence between you and you consider introducing yourself, but decide against it. He knows who you are.

"The maid is drawing me a bath," he says suddenly and a sick feeling pours over you. This day was always coming, but you aren't sure you're ready to lay under a stranger.

"Am I expected to join?" you ask and his nose crinkles.

"No." He steps back and away. His departure is brisk and driven. You retire for the night by yourself and awake alone. Your husband is set to leave again in a few hours; a few soldiers have already gathered in the front garden.

"Don't you wish to give your new wife a goodbye?" one asks, unaware of your open window. "One night and you've already had your fill? Or has she been filled too much?"

"I refuse to believe she is real!" says another. "What kind of woman has worn down our brute and turned him into a family man? Should we expect a gaggle of children in the upcoming year?"

Your husband growls. "You will leave the poor lamb alone. She suffers enough."

That softens you. Just a bit. You rise from you bed and go to the window, leaning out enough to catch the men's attention.

"Until next time."

He watches you, expression caught between more emotions that you can count, then turns his gaze back to his mount. The two men share a look, wide, wide grins on their faces.

"Until next time," he repeats back.

[mintmatcha]

In his absence, he sends gifts. They are tiny things, sweets and oiled combs and scented oils and a porcelain figure of a cat, aimless in their direction towards you. Just simple niceties he could give to any woman in the world. You imagine he sends one to the lovers he has in every city as well.

(he must have lovers, you imagine. He hasn't touched you; he must be getting his fill with women in other cities, maybe women he actually loves. these are trinkets to keep his wife amused while she wastes away.)

none of the gifts come with a note.

one day a bolt of fabric arrives, yellow and ornate. It's only a small amount, not enough to make a dress, but enough for you to unravel and admire. It's beautiful and clearly expensive, golden threads woven into flowers and vines. Your father was a silk merchant; while you never wore the silks, you can recognize their quality.

the following week, the delicious man rides up on his steeds and presents a letter. The handwriting is rough. Knights that come from the lower class do not have the schooling of highborns; as fair as you know, your husband was born a street rat and worked his way theough the ranks to glory.

-I have been told by my secund that I did not send you enuf fabric for a gown. I do not no these things.

The spelling mistakes screw a smile out of you.

"Wait a moment." You stop the boy before he can leave. "I wish to send something back."

You take your time and use your finest calligraphy, tucking your note in with a handkerchief you had spent the week on. It's fine work-- one that would please even the hardest of hearts.

-Dearest husband,

Please take this handkerchief as a sign of my thoughts.

Your patient and thoughtful wife

A second letter arrives within the week.

-are you cros with me? A scrap of fabric for a scrap of fabric?

The response is what makes you cross. The poor messenger boy has to stay the night while you percolate over a response.

-Dearest, sweetest husband,

A handkerchief is a traditional gesture of affection. I have embroidered the edges by hand, with your family name and your roses, and it smells of my perfume. It is a piece of me for you to carry. If you do not appreciate my kindness or if you think it will turn away your lovers, you may return it. I do not wish it wasted on you.

Your less than patient and less than adoring wife

The poor boy scatters off in the morning and returns a few days later.

tortured wife,

I wil cherish it. I am sory, pour lam. I wil do better.

your loving husband

[iguanodonwildman]

Hey! Just a reminder! AO3 does NOT have an app. This garbage was made by theives who steal fan artist’s work and sell it back to you.

“Oh, but it’s free!” There are ads. They are making money off of this. They are stealing from the creators you love and you are hurting those same creators if you use this app or any similar app.

Don’t use it. Report it at every opportunity.

[yuriwinged]

the prince has begun practicing curtseying in the mirror. which could mean nothing.

[heydocverdant]

we have good news and bad news, my liege. the good news is that we now know what that curtsying was about: you will be pleased to know that, after several heartfelt conversations between your child, the court jesters and a myriad of singing woodland creatures, you are now the parent of a proud and joyful new princess. the bad news is that, due to a series of events related to the dragon-sized hole in her bedchamber wall,

[illmoraineakoi]

I love the insinuation that the second the princess realized she was a girl and thus actually a princess, the dragon was there. That thing wasted no time. It heard "princess" and was like "I need no further invitation, here I come."

Gender affirmed by Dragon. Amazing.

[heydocverdant]

pretty sure you’re literally the only person who understood my vision on this accursed post

[sexnoise]

Reblog if you honestly have NEVER sent anon hate.

[mamahartbigg]

It pains me that only 14,000 people can honestly reblog this

[null-and-void-and-gone]

me when my disabilities disable me:

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: The Human Bean Cafe

Danny opens a coffee shop. He titles it the Human Bean, a play on "human being" and an excuse to have bean bags everywhere. Mostly, though, it's titled that out of spite because of a bad reveal: his parents no longer consider him a human being, so this is his own personal f-you to them.

Danny decided that the Human Bean must be open in a dangerous city in the country because he thrives on negative emotions. It's his ghost diet. Rather than put himself in negative situations, he goes to places that have a lot of conflict and eats on second-hand sadness, feelings of helplessness, and overall human distress.

He chooses Gotham because it's dangerous and has a big enough difference in classes within the same city, which means that those emotions are always present, but it's not so dangerous that he could die on a regular walk. He avoided Bludhaven despite the fresh, for-the-picking emotions. That place is crazy.

Despite his necessary ghost diet, Danny is unusually upbeat and friendly. In Gotham, that usually means he's either A. Mad B. A goon/upcoming rogue. Or C. was a front for something far worse. People weren't too willing to get close to his brightly colored business/home, especially since he set up right smack in the middle of Crime Alley. He fixed up the building and chose white, yellow, and blue as his main colors, standing out even more among the broken-down buildings with faded red.

Danny doesn't mind. As Ghost King, he has so much money that he might be the richest man in the world- he just has no paper trail for his funds, so he runs his coffee shop for fun and as an excuse for where he gets his money.

He values comfort above all and has various seats throughout the building, including bean bags, electric recliners, hammocks, swing chairs, and, of course, regular tables and chairs. He wants it to be a place where someone can spend hours regardless of age. The oddness of the setup grabs the attention of a group of middle school kids who wander in cautiously. They spread the word about how cool the place is, and more and more people started to show up.

He offers odd services, too: free wifi, free printing, various craft supplies, rentable gaming systems, and message machines for feet or backs (the last two cannot leave the building). He only charges for drinks; all food items are free. Though he only offers pastries, it's first come first serve and he makes something different every day. If he runs out of pastries, he refuses to make any more until the next morning.

He encourages people to share their woes with him. Much like a bartender, Danny knows things about everyone because they find it easy to tell the man when he's offering them a warm drink and free food. It's almost therapeutic for some to just babble to the man in the comfort of his little coffee shop. Everyone in Crime Alley feels helpless and anxious. Danny is so well fed.

Then one day, a man arrives wearing a suit that might be worth more than Danny's entire building. He orders one black coffee, picks one of the regular plush chairs in the far corner, and doesn't talk much. He just spends two hours typing away on a laptop with a peaceful look on his face. It's almost believable if the emotions Danny senses from him weren't nearly as black as a void. It's delicious.

Danny does everything he can to talk to the man, taking small "bites" of his emotions (He needs to just stand next to someone long enough to start absorbing emotions), but for him to truly feed, he needs them to either share their woes or allow physical contact. But it's like talking to a dumb brick wall. The man has an iron grip on his emotions through sheer will, so Danny can sense the meal but can't reach it.

He all but begs him to come back as they settled the bill. He says he might, but it doesn't sound very convincing. Despite all of Danny's very generous offerings of wares and services, he knows that a man with that suit likely can offer far better. Too bad. He was the best meal he had had in a while. Danny almost accepts he won't see him again until two weeks later, the man returns, once again nearly dripping in sadness but held together by the duct tape of his will.

Danny nearly trips over himself trying to get him to stay. He pays attention to other customers and provides service, but whenever he can, he finds himself wandering back to the same table. He's nearly overwhelmed by how delicious the negative emotions are, and winds up a flustered mess. If anything, this seems to amuse the man who slowly allows himself to get pulled into conversation. Danny learns he is a single father of nine kids and is having a hard time with his two eldest.

Family issues are something Danny knows firsthand, and he finds himself offering advice, taking a seat at the table when his other customers leave, making them the only two people in the building. Danny makes them both a fresh pot of coffee and grabs some scones to share. Outside, Gotham decides it's a perfect time to let rain pour in buckets, and the man decides to wait it out with Danny, even though Danny had flipped the closed sign hours ago. By the time he left, Danny had eaten as much as he could, so much that he felt bloated.

This becomes a bi-weekly tradition, and Danny even starts marking his wall calendar in his room with a heart and "Tasty man comes in". Now, does that mean Danny doesn't know his name? Yes. Why? Because the man introduced himself, but Danny had been so busy taking sniffs of the air and savoring the depression, he didn't hear. It's too late to ask now. He avoids his name by using a nickname. Calls him B because he's pretty sure his name starts with that. B calls him D in turn. Danny is half convinced the other man doesn't know his name either.

This trend has persisted for 6 months. Still, Danny notices the man's depression slowly lessening, and soon, Danny realizes he's happier and actually brighter when he walks into the Human Bean. Which is great! Danny is happy for him! Except he's hungry. That was his favorite meal. What's going on!?

(Bruce Wayne is having trouble with his eldest kids again. Jason refuses to go to the Manor ever since Red Hood and Batman went on a mission together, and Dick is mad about something Bruce said. He isn't sure what it was, but midway through their conversation about Dick's relationship with Koriand'r, his son got angry and stormed out. This caused tension at the Manor with his other children, and Bruce just couldn't handle it. He had gone to a random cafe, somewhere discreet, just to hide from his family while he did some work. Just somewhere quiet and away from it all for a few hours. That's where he met Danny, a cute barista who was earnest and offered some advice on Bruce's dilemma. He tried the advice the other man gave him, and it somehow seemed to work; his sons had forgiven him)

(Bruce went back to the Human Bean more and more just to see Danny. Somehow, the man made him feel better every time, like the sadness that had been clinging to him since his parents' death slipped away. It didn't take Bruce long to realize he had started to look forward to seeing Danny, as he felt better every time he did, and it showed in his everyday life. They even have nicknames for each other! Not too creative ones since it's just the first letter of their names, but still.)

( His kids were convinced he was hiding a therapist or lover, but Danny wasn't any of those things. He was just happiness personified. Everyone who came to Human Bean loved Danny and agreed his cafe felt like a home away from home. Now, does Bruce's heartbeat speed up whenever he sees the man? Does he feel like he could watch Danny run his cafe for the rest of his life because of how much life Danny had? Does he lie at night wondering what Danny is up to? Yes, but that doesn't mean love! It just means Bruce really needs to make more friends.)

[fullmetalfisting]

Tbh germ theory DOES sound crazy. Like if you told a regency-era nobleman that tiny creatures lived on the surface of everything and THAT’S what causes consumption, they’d be like “ah, I see you are a lunatic. Would you reside in my hermitage? Rantings and ravings do so amuse my guests”

[mysteryteacup]

But if you told a Medieval person this they would probably go "Ah, so when the miasma settles on surfaces it gains evil life. I understand."

[alarajrogers]

Yeah, actually, it would probably be pretty easy to explain germ theory to a Medieval person as tiny evil spirits that live on everything, but they can be purified by soap and water, or by alcohol, because that is why God has granted us those things. And because they can float in the air, if you cough or sneeze after they have infested you, that can cause them to infest others. And when you are sick, the angels God has deputized to defend the bodies of His beloved children are at war with the evil spirits, and, sadly, sometimes they lose, but the best way to help your angels win their battle is to rest, drink plenty (this would probably be small beer in this time period, not water, because the water was also infested), stay clean, and for the sake of God do not allow anyone to let your blood, for the angels need that blood in their war against the evil spirits. Bloodletting is good for some types of illnesses but not the kinds caused by the tiny evil spirits.

[chekhovs-raygun]

boiling as a sterilization measure is also easy to explain. water returns to the air when heated and it rises as steam back up to the floodgates of heaven; we know God created the world in seven days, He's not up there making more water every time it rains. it circulates. the returning of water to heaven also purifies the water of unclean and malign influences. you know wormy water from a muddy puddle will kill your kid. you know you wouldn't wade into a bog and have a slurp. water that remains in the low places of earth absorbs all that is unclean from our waste and it may also sponge up new diseases from hell, we're not totally sure about that one, but it seems likely. God set up the heavenly water cycle so that the earth's waters wouldn't totally fill up with gunk.

what does this have to do with boiling your surgical tools? well look, the boiling water releases bubbles of steam which carries the malign influences up to heaven. you boil a knife, you send all the miasmic particles off with the steam to heaven. if you rinse the knife off in a bucket the water isn't hot enough, the particles go into the water and then right back on to the knife. you gotta boil it to get the particles all the way away. how can a tool or rag or a bed have miasmic particles on it when you can't smell them? humans have a lousy sense of smell. look at your dog on the hunt. are there no rabbits in the woods just because you can't smell them? we know that miasma is carried on the air, and is what makes stench so dangerous, and we know that humans can't smell worth a damn compared to dogs cats horses etc. a dog can smell if a rat died in a corner of the room last week. you can't. do you think licking the spot where the rat died is going to go well for you? luckily, what humans lack in snout we make up for in brains. we have extra brains where our sniffers should have been. God set that up for a reason.

and why does a rinse with wine spirits work? man, look how fast alcohol evaporates. my guess is that because wine contains a lot more vice than water, it evaporates a whole lot faster, in sort of an equal and opposite way that a rock falls faster than a feather. if you want the miasmic particles to get off there FAST, you dunk it in something that's going back to heaven at a gallop.

what's up with honey? it just preserves things against corruption. doesn't clean them off. honey doesn't evaporate at all. probably because bees don't sin. it's not good for ridding a tool of particles-- it's sticky-- but fine for preserving anything you don't want to go to heaven OR hell. this is why you wash the wound with wine spirits or purified water FIRST, to sluice the miasma out, then slap the honey on AFTER. and boil the damn bandage, too. you wouldn't put a rotten door in a sound doorframe and expect it to keep out bandits, would you? cmon.

[ariaste]

Medieval people also already knew that putting things out in the sun helped to keep them clean (UV radiation killing bacteria). So everyone knows that after you use a butter churn, you rinse it out, give it a scrub, and set it out in the sun to dry, or else it will go sour and everything you make with it will go bad fast. Likewise with when you want to get sheets and clothes really clean and fresh, you boil them with lye soap and then lay them out in the sun to dry.

[cricketcat9]

Medieval paesant: yes, yes, makes total sense

JFK Jr: I take my grandkids to swim in a sewer and dig roadkill

[intimatevoid]

This kind of process is called "headology" in Discworld and is the foundation for an entire branch of witchcraft in the series.

[adrenaline-revolver]

“Eridians dislike earth because they abandoned Grace.” *Incorrect Buzzer Sound* ya missed the point of the story buddy! It’s not about someone being ‘bad’ it’s about the incredible power of love and that love being worth dying for!

Gimmie Eridians who are absolutely heartbroken to hear that humans where so desperate and so scared that they where willing to part with not just one Grace, there were three of them! Gimmie Eridians touched to find that the humans planned a way for their sacrifices to be as comfortable as possible. Gimmie Eridians who send earth a message saying “We know it must have hurt to send your heroes to die, but one made it and he’s safe here. We lost 22 good Eridians on the journey we would have lost 23 if not for your Grace.”

Give me humans sitting on Earth slowly coming to the conclusion that when we look up not only are we not alone, someone out there is alive because of one of us. That no matter what we think of ourselves a whole species thinks highly of us because we helped save the galaxy. Give me humans who figure out how to send a probe to Erid filled to the brim with messages for Grace and footage of a monument being raised that reads his name, his crews names, and then “in memory of the 22 Eridians who lost their lives on the journey to save the stars.”

[gangueiro]

[transviktortalis]

#oh this place is HAUNTED haunted

[alleiradayne]

NOW it’s serious

[appendingfic]

This is the supernatural equivalent of going to the doctor and they keep pulling specialists in the room to go, “wow, I’ve never seen THAT before”

[ttrpgsmoved-deactivated20240903]

no way in hell

[ttrpgsmoved-deactivated20240903]

hey stop being funnier than me on my own post

[piedude]

New meme dropped

[hoodiedeer]

Reminder, if you ever pay someone for a commission on Paypal (NSFW OR NOT) you SHUT THE FUCK UP in any text box it gives you.

(No this does not mean try to be a snarky comedian and say it was "bomb materials" or "fuck u" or whatever. Don't play with people's livelihoods, just shut the fuck up and don't type anything at all, it's not that hard.)

[ilovecharts]

A Tea Chart I made to remember how to make a cup of tea for everyone who comes by the house. 

-navyvice

[partiendolapana-blog]

This is so absolutely adorable oh my gods.

[byjove]

I never thought I would be siding with the pope’s involvement in politics and cheering him on. I will say that.

[byjove]

[qqueenofhades]

Pope says he has 'no fear' of Trump after scathing criticism

The US president accuses Leo of being "weak on crime and terrible for foreign policy".

[laropasucia]