bureaucratic-hubris

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GOD. still the funniest transition in the show bar none

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reminder that trans men also fought for your rights and refusal to acknowledge this is tantamount to denying historical fact

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me contemplating the human condition

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I thought this was peak comedy so I am subjecting you all to it too.

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STOP CENSORING SUBTITLES/TRANSCRIPTS/CLOSED CAPTIONS

LET DEAF AND NEURODIVERGENT PEOPLE READ “FUCK”

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my gf and i share a computer room but our activities are very different

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Rebuilding What Was Erased – A Message from Abedmajed in Gaza

My name is Abedmajed, and I live in Gaza with what remains of my once large and loving family.

In a single missile strike, we lost over 25 members of our family. They were not just names. They were mothers, daughters, sons, grandparents — people we shared meals with, laughed with, and built dreams with.

The missile hit our family home — the heart of everything we knew.

Among those killed were: 🕊️ My mother 🕊️ My sister 🕊️ My older brother His wife and their three daughters 🕊️ My uncle, his wife, and all their sons and grandchildren

We were left with nothing but rubble and grief. Yet somehow, my brother and I survived. And now, we carry the responsibility of rebuilding what was taken — not just for ourselves, but for our father, our surviving siblings, and the memory of those we lost.

💔 Why We’re Fundraising

This campaign is not just about survival. It’s about rebuilding a future — A family home, a shared life, a place where our father can rest safely, Where the next generation of our family can grow up knowing peace instead of trauma.

💬 The funds raised will help us:

🏗️ Rebuild our family home — which was completely destroyed 🛠️ Provide basic support for our father and siblings 🏡 Create safe, livable conditions for a family shattered by loss

🔒 How the Funds Are Managed

Due to the collapse of Gaza’s financial system, all donations are processed through my brother, who has a U.S. registered Stripe account. Funds are securely transferred to Gaza and distributed in cash here on the ground. We are transparent and ready to provide proof of every step.

🌱 Why Your Support Matters

We are not asking for charity. We’re asking for a chance to stand again, To rebuild something we can pass on to the children who survived.

Vetted By @gazavetters No:537

Your support gives us the strength not just to remember the ones we lost — but to honor them by continuing.

💬 If you can’t donate, a reblog means the world. 🕊️ From Gaza, with hope and dignity — thank you.

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do you think that a certain genre of queer person is so obsessively weird about pride flag discourse becuase their flags fill the gaping hole in their personality where a hogwarts house used to be

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Reblog to give a trans person a fresh and perfectly ripe mango wait huh

It's the wikipedia image??? How big could it be

What

Huh???

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So I started writing it.

Soap’s head was pounding, and his ears were ringing. His mouth was drier than a desert; his whole body ached it even hurt to breathe. What had he been doing before he woke up? It had been work-related, right? Some-something about a-a bomb! It was the tunnel, and he was disarming the bomb! Until. Until he was shot in the head by Makarov. His left hand flew upon the realisation to his temple the tubes and wires that connected it to an IV-drip next to the bed he was currently lying in. He carefully touched the fresh bullet wound, a cotton patch covered it, and even being careful, it still stung when he touched the wound. So he was really shot in the head and he’d survived it; it wasn’t that strange that others had survived it before, Soap told himself. It didn’t feel real. He definitely remembers dying. Yes, it happened incredibly fast, but he still remembers it.

At least Edin would have been jealous; he’d have a cooler scar than her now. 

“Oh! You’re awake!” A voice called out. Standing at the end of the bed was a woman dressed in scrubs, a doctor? She had to be. No coat though, or maybe she was a nurse coming in to check on him? 

The nurse. Who he was, just gonna go with the nurse, had a surprised but delighted look on her face. She reached for the walkie on her shoulder, turning it on and said a quick “He’s awake.” Then he walked over to his left side, checking on the drip. 

“We were beginning to think you weren’t waking up at this point. You know. You were out for a while.” She told him. How long is, out for a while? For how long had he been, and where are the others? What had happened after he’d been shot? Had the bomb been disarmed or gone off? Soap knew he wouldn’t even be here if it did, but it wouldn’t leave his head; more and more questions flooded his brain. Had they captured Makarov, or had the bastard escaped them again?

CoD fic idea/prompt:

After getting shot in the head by Makarov Soap wakes up in a strange morgue/hospital room, he’s technically dead but also still alive at the same time and he’s gets taken in by a Scp foundation ish type supernatural organization. They basically say work for us and will find away to make you human again, so he does learns about a world hidden from the normal world.

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Faces in coffee.

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if you are a game designer and you force me to kill wolves AND you have them make sad puppy noises I'm killing you