#very typical

[femrodeeeeo]

I hate how the world revolves around the US and how americans go around forcing everyone to fit into the way they talk, write, dress and behave while acting like sjw's.

"that's not the proper word for this it's actually..."

neither is maccas but that's what we say here 🙄

"this word is considered offensive in america and idk where you're from but now you can't use it either"

bro as a poc maybe you and your people should stop mistreating people and creating things that become offensive instead of policing the rest of us 😫

[buttered-toasty]

Me vs the point of the Fëanorian star I’m embroidering on my battle jacket, like why the hell has this shit come out wonky TWICE.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

I’m very fond of parable-type folktales that are clever in delivering their lesson. Lots of folktales contain a moral or at least distinct values, but since parables don’t have to be subtle about it, they can come across a bit blunt. Not all of them though, I like this one from Morocco a lot. The main character, Djha, is an Islamic scholar. The Moroccan version of the Turkish “Nasredding Hodja”, who is something of a folk hero in a whole collection of stories spread all around the Islamic world:

One day Djha went to speak to the Caliph to ask him to make him a judge. The Caliph agreed and from that day on Djha was a judge.

Once, when he was walking down the street, he witnessed an argument between a mechoui merchant and a poor man. Now he was a judge it was his duty to intervene. So Djha asked why the two were fighting.

It turned out that the poor man was hungry, but had nothing but bread to eat. So he had gone to the mechoui merchant and had held his piece of bread in the smoke of the roasting mutton. Once the bread had soaked up all the smoke and fat from the meat, he ate it, and to him it was just like he was eating real meat. After this he wanted to go about his business, but the merchant had stopped him and demanded he pay him. But the poor man protested: “What for? I have not eaten meat, only smoke, so I owe you no payment.” But the merchant disagreed and kept insisting the other had to pay.

Right at that moment Djha had intervened. He now asked the merchant: “How much money do you want from him?”

“I want five dirham,” the merchant replied.

“Give me one dirham,” Djha told the poor man. He took the coin and dropped it on the ground five times in a row, to make it clink against the stone. Then he returned the coin to the poor man and told him he could go.

The merchant was dumbfounded. He couldn’t understand it and he screamed at Djha: “How can you let him go while he still owes me five dirham!”

But Djha said: “The poor man has eaten the smoke of your meat and you have been paid with the clink of a coin. You no longer owe one another anything.”

[onebigowlhouseobsession]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Back at it again with the Galochio Twins Angst. I am not at all sorry!

The concept for this one-shot came from @portalcartoon. She comes up with the best ideas. Anyway, if you'd like to read it here on tumblr, it's under the cut!

Lucy tests her limits.

----------------

Lucy stands at the edge of the river bank, testing her strength. The water rises under her watchful gaze, reaching higher just as she commands it to, but it isn't enough. The volume of water she is capable of moving before her head starts to throb, her skin starts to prickle, is vastly larger than it was just a few months ago, but still not large enough. She grits her teeth, forces her arm up higher, fingers pressing even harder to her temple. The water wavers, loses its cohesiveness, and then falls back limply into the river with a plop. She can sense the barrier she keeps hitting. She is pushing herself as far as she's capable, but it isn't far enough. She tries again. And again. Each time with the same result, a roaring, pounding in her ears, the water losing shape, falling away, as if trying to escape her iron grasp, and hitting that same barrier. Her hands tingle, prickle, feeling colder, frozen at the tips. She hisses in frustration. She can't be weak. She needs to be stronger, no matter the cost. She raises the water once more, mustering all the strength she can. This time, the water strikes back, a pouncing cobra. The water crashes over her, drags her under. Lucy, panicked, struggling to breath, is certain she will drown. The water is too powerful, and she isn't nearly strong enough to fight against it. What are you afraid of? Get a hold of yourself. You're not some weak girl, you're a powerful general, you've destroyed entire armies with a pass of one hand. The water stagnates, stops it's deadly assault, then parts around her. She stands, still shivering wet, damp, but not at all cold. Her hands fist at her sides, and then a smile stretches across her face. Why should she be afraid? Why should she be afraid of the water? Why should she be afraid of the unknown? Afraid of change? She laughs, booming. There's nothing weak about her, she's strong. "The people have a new nickname for me. They call me, "Maligula!"" She rises into the air, and the water rises with her. "Ha! Sounds serious. I take it as a compliment!" The water takes on the form of a massive snake, rearing up behind her, with giant, glowing white eyes bright as headlights. It notices something, moving near the trees, and hisses. It's just loud enough to be heard over her laughter. "I like it so much, in fact… I can't remember being called by another name…" The water falls with a splash. Thunder crashes, striking a nearby tree. She turns toward the treeline, eyes gleaming yellow. Marona stares in horror. Their gazes lock, and Lucy's eyes narrow, her lip pulling back in a nasty snarl. "If it isn't my sister? Poking around where she does not belong." She raises her hand, clearly with every intent to attack. Marona gasps, already backing away, and before Lucy can summon even a drop of water Marona has already turned tail. She runs as fast as she can, and only stops once the sound of thunder is a distant, faint rumbling. She sits down with her back against a tree, hugs her knees to her chest, and starts to cry

[frogeye-pierce]

M*A*S*H drinking game idea #2:

Take a shot every time Hawkeye says “Aah” whenever he enters a room, sees someone he knows, finds something he lost etc.

[soikkas]

 I am not who you think I am. I'm not from the Fire Nation,       I'm from the southern water tribe

   ind.  sokka  from  avatar:  the  last  airbender.  by  jami

[tomholend]

Look how cute he is

[chrkrose]

The same people who trashed Daryl for the Richard storyline are with 16273893933 arguments to why is ok for Rick to threat the girls from Oceanside lol typical