#roil

[eveningnetwork]

Resignations Roil Twitter as Elon Musk Tries Persuading Some Workers to Stay

Resignations Roil Twitter as Elon Musk Tries Persuading Some Workers to Stay

Acum câteva ore termen de joi acea Elon Musk După ce le-a dat angajaților Twitter puterea de a decide dacă să rămână sau să renunțe, compania de socializare a părut confuză. Musk și consilierii săi au avut întâlniri pe care unii angajați Twitter le-au considerat „importante” pentru a preveni plecarea lor, au spus patru persoane familiare cu conversația. El a trimis mesaje înșelătoare despre…

[bewitchedandinawe]

fanfiction about the oil spill robot and the oil spill that’s called roil

[daguerreotyping]

Tintype of two seasoned sea dogs sitting calmly before the storm, c. 1860s

[floweroflaurelin]

The description of Howard’s scar was so gnarly I just had to paint it. I love this spooky series so much 🕯️

[marlenacantswim]

David Tennant Smoking in Fright Night (2011)

bonus:

get it bc he's smoking hahahaaahaha

[squorgle]

Comfort Food

I’m thinking about a cozy stuffing with the richest, warmest, most comforting food in existence: a heaping bowl of pasta. A character has had a rough day, so when they finally have the evening to unwind and marathon their favorite show, they make it extra special by whipping up/ordering a family-sized pasta dish that’s absolutely drowning in a thick, creamy sauce. When they finally recline on the sofa and rest the warm bowl on the crest of their hungry belly, they’re already in a glazed over state of bliss. The show they’re watching is interesting enough to keep them glued while shoveling oversized forkfuls of pasta down their gullet, spraying flecks of sauce as they noisily slurp it up.

The first several mouthfuls of pasta settle delightfully in their tummy, washing away the troubles of the day. The sauce is so rich it catches in their throat, occasionally making them lightly cough to clear their palate. Incidentally, during one of said coughs, they notice the hefty weight deep in their belly. They look down in surprise to see a noticeable bump just under their breast, sloping gently toward their bellybutton. Lightly pressing their fingers against the bump jostles the digesting noodles, prompting a soft burp. A bout of action on the tv screen retracts their attention, and well…the still-warm bowl on their lap is wafting pleasantly spiced aromas past the gurgling mound in their belly and up to their nose. Their fork goes back to dutifully twirling, each mouthful delivering a hefty addition to the pasta already sitting in their belly like concrete.

To no one’s surprise, the bowl winds up empty and the belly ends up a heaving bowling ball atop a now moaning character. The show continues in the background, but the character is slumped into their cushions with their head tilted back, mouth hanging open to help get extra oxygen into a body that feels like it’s 99% composed of pasta. At that angle, their heavy, swollen stomach feels like it’s pressing against their lungs, stretching the skin of their abdomen uncomfortably. One hand is cradling their jutting-out underbelly, the other massaging the overstuffed organ while it gurgles away, emitting strained, shifting bubbles that they can feel under their fingers. Through throaty, gargling belches, they can feel the heat from their engorged stomach spreading deep into their body, extending down into their pants, only making them moan louder with each euphorically painful cramp. It feels like they filled their digestive system with wet sand, every labored breath urging up more gurgles and burps as their guts try to find space for the slop invading every nook and cranny.

The evening, starting out warm and comfortable, quickly evolved into a hot, sweaty, belch-filled night that can end in any way you can imagine.

[acollectionofficsandshit]

No thoughts, just Dan in this pic

[chamerionwrites]

Aimé Césaire saying that colonization works to decivilize the colonizer truly lives in my head rent-free

[kanadabiscuits]

As Christmas Eve wends its way towards midnight, it is always strange for me to contemplate a holiday that means nothing to me, is the focus of a religion I have no part of, and seems to demand a giant tithe to the god of overspending and useless commercialism. I revile so many aspects of the holiday and yet...

And yet.

I love the warmth of the glow of the lights (my tree has the same lights we've had since I was born - they turned fifty with me this year); the nostalgic timeline of ornaments collected over the years as mementos of whims, friends, family, and moments to treasure; the smell of the kitchen churning out recipes that are only made at this time of year; the fact that so much of our frenetic, fast-moving lives coasts to a stop, a cessation of forward momentum until capitalism rears its head again and Boxing Day Week fucking MONTH starts and everyone tramples each other for more deals for more shit no one needs... fuck there I go again, sorry. I am getting old and I rage on my porch sometimes.

Forgive me my moments of crotchety frustration. What I am trying to say is:

Merry Christmas if that is what this holiday is to you, happy holidays if it is something else. Be warm, be safe, may you find yourselves surrounded by love near and far, and I hope you have a moment to draw a breath and enjoy the pause, the liminal space lit by the glow of contentment before we dive back in again.

Here in this space, where we come for escape, for community, for reassurance... be well, be loved, be safe.

[ashfae]

Eden

(No spoilers for season two in here, promise) One of the most interesting parts of getting to visit the Good Omens set was talking with set designer Michael Ralph. Mostly it was about the bookshop, but he also talked about back before season 1 was done and he was first envisioning and drawing the concept art for everything. His image of the Garden of Eden was that it would be behind walls, obviously, and that outside those walls would be a vast desert.

And that in that desert were the remains of the first attempts of building other Edens. Failed prototypes now left to turn to ruins.

I think about that a lot now. About what might have been in the other Edens, what was left when they were abandoned.

[crimeronan]

i'm at the last dinner i'll have to have with my dad while i'm here & i started out the night getting AAAALLLL the Good Daughter points by offering to pay (knowing full well he would insist) AND remembering he fucking. says grace in public restaurants before eating. then for some reason the specific sound of him praying in exactly the same tone with exactly the same prayer he always uses set off my fight-or-flight so fucking hard that i've now ducked into the bathroom to catch my breatjh. jesusu fucking. cherist.

hashtag princess luz antics I GUESS.

[daguerreotyping]

Carte de visite of a French navy officer sporting meticulously manicured muttonchops, c. 1870

[maamlet]

all of my beloved followers i want you to know that i successfully pulled myself out of a depression spiral earlier after the actions of both a dickhead truck driver and my dipshit coworker on the previous shift led to me hauling Seven Hundred And Twenty Pounds (estimate) of god damn limes. i pulled myself out of what was going to be a spiral. i am so powerful. but i am sore and if i dont get a stroke of good luck soon i am going to scream

[dearorpheus]

"—suppose you were no longer a girl well reared and disciplined, but a wild boy indulged from childhood upwards; imagine yourself in a remote foreign land; conceive that you there commit a capital error, no matter of what nature or from what motives, but one whose consequences must follow you through life and taint all your existence. Mind, I don't say a crime; I am not speaking of shedding of blood or any other guilty act, which might make the perpetrator amenable to the law: my word is error. The results of what you have done become in time to you utterly insupportable; you take measures to obtain relief: unusual measures, but neither unlawful nor culpable. Still you are miserable; for hope has quitted you on the very confines of life: your sun at noon darkens in an eclipse, which you feel will not leave it till the time of setting. Bitter and base associations have become the sole food of your memory: you wander here and there, seeking rest in exile: happiness in pleasure – I mean in heartless, sensual pleasure – such as dulls intellect and blights feeling. Heart-weary and soul-withered, you come home after years of voluntary banishment: you make a new acquaintance – how or where no matter: you find in this stranger much of the good and bright qualities which you have sought for twenty years, and never before encountered; and they are all fresh, healthy, without soil and without taint. Such society revives, regenerates: you feel better days come back – higher wishes, purer feelings; you desire to recommence your life, and to spend what remains to you of days in a way more worthy of an immortal being. To attain this end, are you justified in overleaping an obstacle of custom – a mere conventional impediment which neither your conscience sanctifies nor your judgment approves?"

— Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

[bobthedragon]

phone lock screen and bg I made for my dear partner after putting it off for several years ᕕ( ᐛ ) ᕗ;;

[lectern-fullcauldron]

mad at grian again for not citing his sources in his trending minecraft video. he cited etho, yeah, but there was a zedvancement in there and joe's flying squids showed up. he did that for his pranks video too (uncited free glass, fish prank etc.). and i just think that if you're the biggest active hermit, you shouldn't borrow from your co-workers work without crediting them, especially not if the video you're making is designed to be a clickbait, non-hermitcraft, viral one