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ehlnofay · 10 months

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It’s not until she hears Sissel’s knees hit the floor that Efri is jolted back into her body.

She blinks, whipping her head around. Sissel is kneeling, bracing a palm on the ancient stone pavement, at the barrier – no, the barrier’s gone, it’s just Sissel on the floor. She lifts her head and meets Efri’s eyes; her hair is wispy and wild, the little plaits meant to keep it neat come loose and tumbling, her eyes wide. The barrier's gone, but still, her pale face is lit up blue.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t speak loudly, but it echoes in the great stone chamber.

Nine, Efri doesn’t know.

She blinks again, looks down at her hands, clinging to the metal stick so fiercely that her joints ache. (Her own stick, her nice wooden one, is still on the floor somewhere, where it slipped out of her grasp when she hit the wall.) The lumpy heavy end of it, the clobbering end, is still resting on –

Not on. It’s in the thing’s head, fitted neatly in the opening of its dented helmet, the horns spiralling over the floor. There’s a tooth, perfectly preserved, by Efri’s foot.

One by one, she unwraps her gloved fingers from the handle of the metal stick, letting it drop to the floor with a clang so loud it makes her wince. Kazari is nosing at her side. (When did they let go of it? When did they get so close? She must have missed that. She feels out of the loop. Her heart is juddering like fish on a line, battering like some frightened trapped thing at her ribcage, and her breath is coming fast and heavy.) Absentmindedly bringing up a hand to press over her sore shoulder, she says, “’M fine. Not too – barely touched me.”

Kazari turns and spits on the floor. Efri blinks. She does it again, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face very disgruntled – and oh, Efri gets it. She does not glance down at the thing at her feet; she doesn’t need to, she knows what its arm looks like, chewed almost to pieces even through its banded armour. (If she hadn’t been so busy being scared of it, that sight might have made her a bit scared of Kazari. But not now, when they’re trying to hack and spit the taste of dead man arm out of their mouth.)

Efri unclips her canteen from her belt and holds it out. “Here,” she says. Her voice is rough. Her heart is racing too much to let constructing sentences be easy. “Not much, but –”

Kazari stands still while Efri tips half of the remaining water onto her tongue, and then Efri watches her swilling it around in her mouth, trying to bathe all of her teeth in it, before she spits it again on the floor at the dead thing’s feet.

The water is still clear. That’s something, at least; the dead man was too old to still have blood in him. Or maybe he was embalmed, drained of it hundreds of years ago, thousands.

“Are you okay?” Efri asks Kazari when they’re done, because they were the one doing most of the fighting, who was closest. They tip their head, shift their weight – wince when they put weight on one foot. Their lips peel back from their teeth. Their clothes on that side are singed.

Efri points it out. “Your robe,” she says, which makes it sound much fancier than it is. She’s too tired to think of a better word. She rubs a hand over her face, pushing the hair back over her forehead, says, “I’ll reinforce it for you when we get out.”

Kazari noses at Efri’s shoulder – the shredded fabric of her dress, the fraying edges stained with blood. Efri says, “I know. I’ll have to sew that up too.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Kazari’s leg’s hurt, I think.”

“There’s blood on you,” Sissel replies. She peels her hand off the floor and leans back on her heels.

Efri touches her shoulder again. “’S fine,” she says. “Just a scrape. The blood’s drying already.”

It’s really sore, actually – the flesh abraded and tender, an ache sinking deep into the muscle – but it’s normal sore, the kind of sore you really should be after being thrown into a wall. It doesn’t feel sprained or dislocated or anything like that. Just like it will be bruised a whole rainbow of colours come tomorrow.

Kazari noses at it again. She leans too far forward and falters on her maybe-hurt leg – rights herself, wincing, and rolls her shoulder. It gleams, just for a moment, and she nearly stumbles again. Efri puts out a hand to steady her. (It doesn’t really accomplish anything – Efri’s strong, but she’s not that strong – but it’s the principle of it.) “What was that spell?”

“Pain relief,” Sissel says from behind her. “I think. Doesn’t actually fix anything, but.”

“You’ll be okay ‘til we find someone?” Efri asks, and Kazari nods. She presses a hand against their shoulder and nods back.

They both turn to look at Sissel, then, who’s just kneeling on the floor, sitting on her heels.

“You all right?” Efri asks her.

“All right,” Sissel confirms. She doesn’t look at them. “Didn’t even come near me.”

She’s staring.

Efri crosses the floor to stand with her. (She needs to lean on Kazari – her legs are too wobbly, and she doesn’t want to touch the dead thing’s stick, doesn’t want to look for her own. Kazari limps a little on their sore front leg.) There’s a moment of total, humming silence – all of them still and staring, necks craned back, looking up at the thing.

Whatever it is.

It’s a ball. Big and blue and shimmering, it floats above a wide crystalline dish set into the floor, spinning on an axis. Just spinning and spinning and spinning, endless motion. Its smooth surface is cut through with dark wavering lines, etched with lettering, and it doesn’t quite glow but it doesn’t not glow, either, the light moving across it silkily, like clouds in a blue sky. It looks like something that should be humming – a low pitch in their ears, an eerie shiver dancing over their skin – but it’s silent. Inert, maybe, but for the spinning.

“What is it?” Efri asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks down at Sissel’s face, staring as though mesmerised, illuminated by the room’s dim lighting – the fires that should not still be burning down here, the luminous not-glow of the ball.

Sissel says, “I don’t know. Something important.”

Hovering above the dish, it spins, and spins, and spins.

“Is it what the ghost was talking about?” Efri asks. She tilts her head and squints at it. It doesn’t – well, it looks strange and unearthly and powerful, but it isn’t doing anything. And it hadn’t been clear what the ghost was talking about, exactly, according to Sissel, just that it was something important – but what else could it be?

Sissel, still watching it, shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think so.”

Efri watches it with her, brushing a bit more hair out of her face. It’s sticking to her sweaty forehead. She feels a drip of not-dry blood running down her arm under her sleeve.

Kazari is staring at it too – just as confounded as the rest of them. Efri sees the light in their irises shifting as the ball spins.

They’re not learning anything from staring, the ball staying strange and mysterious as ever, so Efri raps her knuckles against her sternum to steady her breathing (it’s slowed a bit – not normal, but closer to it) and climbs up onto the stone rimming of the dish. Kazari, behind her, lows in consternation; Sissel catches her breath, a noise like a creaking door. “Careful,” she says.

“Promise,” Efri replies, and places her feet very, very carefully on the glassy blue flooring. Nothing happens. She doesn’t step on the dark curved lines as she treads toward the ball in the centre, slow and wary as if she were approaching a skittish animal. Nothing happens.

She reaches out, and, with just the tips of her fingers, she grazes the ball’s surface.

Nothing happens.

It’s cool to the touch, and smooth, like polished metal or not-frozen ice or delicate glasswork. It continues to spin gently under her fingers, warming her glove with friction, no smudges left on its clouded face.

It really feels like there should at least be a tingle running up her arm, a strange and unfamiliar current, a spark. But it’s just Efri, standing with an arm outstretched, pressing her hand to a ball.

“It’s not doing anything,” she reports, and Sissel clambers up onto the dish with her, fitting her palm to its gently hovering underside. Kazari balks, begins pacing agitatedly. Efri frowns. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Shouldn’t it be doing something?”

“It’s important,” Sissel says definitively. There’s ancient dust on her fingers, but none of it seems to transfer. “It’s something really special, I think.”

Efri shifts restlessly. She shifts her grip and tries to grab onto the dark ridged curves ringing its surface, but they slip easily away from her grasp as though her touch was no barrier at all. “But what does it do?”

Sissel shrugs.

Behind them, Kazari lows.

Efri drops her hand and grabs Sissel’s wrist. “C’mon,” she says, and when Sissel frowns at her, “We’re not going to learn anything about it this way. We have to look for clues!”

Kazari makes a more impatient noise. (Efri thinks she found a clue.)

Sissel gives the ball one last searching look and lets Efri tug her away, off the weird blue dish and down to where Kazari stands on the stone floor, at the head of the table where the dead man sat. Efri sniffs loudly and tries not to think about it too much. The table is smooth polished stone, worn a little away with time; Efri trails a gloved finger over the edge and directs her attention to where Kazari points with their chin.

There’s something carved into the surface, the edges blunted and shapes softened by however many years it must have been since it was put there. Efri squints, trying to make it out. She has to stand right up on her tiptoes to get the right angle to see much of it in full.

“That’s not letters,” she says eventually, frowning. She’s pretty sure she knows her alphabet well enough by now to know that. “Is it magic?”

Sissel shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like magical writing I’ve ever seen.”

Efri looks at Kazari, who also shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a different sort of lettering,” she theorises. It must have been written a long time ago, if it’s from back when the city had people. Onmund’s been reading all about it for ages, and he’s told her a bit – Saarthal was the city of Atmorans, populated by proto-Nordic people. All complicated history stuff. But they weren’t quite the same as Nords today, he said, so it stands to reason they had different writing, too. They’re supposed to be uncovering and cataloguing artifacts (at the thought, Efri glances back at the hovering ball and swallows an inane bubble of laughter) so she suggests, “Maybe you can copy it and we can show it to someone. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the College what knows what it is.”

Sissel, also standing on her toes, nods dutifully. “What will you do?”

The chamber they’re in is cavernous, and about empty but for the ball in the dish, the altar and chair, the body on the ground. “I’ll check him,” she says, and points. “See if he has anything on him that’s special.”

Sissel follows her finger and grimaces.

She digs out her note-paper and her stick of char, and Efri assumes it’s clues time, but when she turns she feels a hand grip her elbow. She looks back over her tattered shoulder at Sissel’s face, her furrowed brow.

“Promise you’re really okay?” she says, voice anxious and solemn.

“Promise,” Efri says, twisting her arm to touch her friend’s hand. Sissel presses her lips together and lets go of her arm.

Kazari trails after Efri to look at the dead man.

First thing is the metal stick. It’s magic someway, Efri knows – he waved it and threw her into a wall, flung spells with it – but she’s not sure how. Doesn’t know enough about enchantments. Didn’t need to, to use it; when Kazari clamped down on his arm she just ripped it from his grasp and –

She doesn’t quite exactly remember, actually, except for the bitter tang of adrenaline in her mouth and nose, the horrible grunting and scuffling sounds, the heft of the stick in her hands. Impact, over and over and over, against something that had a little more give each time.

Efri scrubs a hand over her mouth and grips the handle of the stick. It takes effort to wrest it out of the thing’s face, caught as it is by the edges of the helmet, and when it’s finally yanked free it’s – actually not as bad as she might have expected. There’s no blood, and the corpse was so desiccated it already didn’t even really look like a person anymore, so it registers less as someone with horrible violence done to it and more as a really gross art piece. It’s not nice. She doesn’t like the twisted, gaping mouth, teeth embedded wrong-ways in its tissue and scattered like coins over the floor. And one of the eyes, which had glowed unearthly blue, is now a dull, rotten black, squished like a plum in its socket.

It's worse the more she looks. She sniffs and turns away.

“This is magic, right?” she asks Kazari, testing the weight of it in her hands, the cool surface of the metal, and they nod. “A good artifact?” she adds, and they nod again, emphatically. Efri sets the stick aside and kneels.

It wasn’t wearing any clothes, really – or if it was, they rotted away. She touches the rusted armour gingerly, tries to avoid brushing her gloves against the shrivelled skin at all. Whoever it was had expensive taste, it seems – there’s jewellery in a shockingly well-preserved beard, pendants around the neck, armbands. Efri asks Kazari if each thing is enchanted. No to the armbands, no to the beard-ring, and then, pressed against the wizened chest where the flesh contours to the ribs, she finds some kind of necklace, sharp-edged and thrumming. Kazari nods to that, and, face scrunched up like an old fruit, Efri reaches around the ancient neck to slip it off.

She tucks it into a belt pocket with the tripwire necklace they found at the weird wall.

“Done,” Sissel says. She folds her paper and slips it into her own pouch. Her footfalls on the echo-y stone floor as she approaches the body for the first time are almost silent. “Did you find anything?”

“Necklace,” Efri replies, watching Sissel’s face pinch at the sight of him. “And – stick.” She scoops up the metal stick and holds it out. “He did spells with it.”

Sissel looks at it warily. “Is he a draugr?” she asks, glancing back down at his mashed-up face.

“I mean,” Efri says, “he’s got to be, right?” She’s certainly never seen a draugr before, but what else could it be?

(Calling it a draugr makes her shiver, the set of her shoulders quaking. She’ll stick to dead man.)

Sissel shudders. She reaches out to grip the handle of the stick, and Efri’s not sure if she’s taking it or just trying to keep herself upright. “I can’t believe that happened,” she says. Her voice sounds, suddenly, fragile. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

“Me neither,” Efri says. She presses the tip of the stick into the ground so Sissel can lean on it, stands a little unsteadily.

Kazari, with a hushed murmur, telegraphs something. Efri recognises the head incline of understanding – she’s familiar with that word, that idea – and, after a moment, the flickering ear of doubt.

“They’ll have to believe us,” she says with conviction, because she means it. “We��ll show them. They’ll see for themselves.”

Kazari presses their nose to her head.

Efri clasps her hands together. “We’ll go tell someone now,” she declares – though it’s easier said than done; they were lost in the ruins ages before they even found the crumbling wall, the halls, this horrible wonderful chamber. But they’ll get un-lost eventually. They’ll get out eventually. Surely. They have practice enough with walking. “But first – help me find my stick.”

#little girl has a kill count now!! more at 11 #for context: I altered stuff leading up to the discovery of the eye #efri and sissel went off to play in the undiscovered halls of this ancient archeological dig site #on the grounds that efri has a great sense of navigation and they'll find their way back to the group no problem.#(efri has a great sense of navigation in the wilderness.)#(introduce her to a series of roads and buildings and she is lost in the sauce.)#their friends split up to look for them after they've been missing from a while (wandering around with great interest and no sense of place #(incredibly lost)#kazari happens upon them right as they've found a necklace at the end of a dead-end passageway that - when dutifully grabbed #for archeological research purposes - ended up triggering the wall to crumble or disappear or otherwise remove itself from the equation #and efri wasn't going to just. LEAVE that opening there.#come ONN kazari that's weird!! we can't just leave it!! what if it closes up and we never ever find it again and there's incredible secrets #that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there!#we HAVE to know what's through there!#so on they go.#and so ensue the horrors #they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile #also sissel is the only one to receive the psijic projection warning. which she explains to the others as a ghost telling her secrets #which efri accepts bc this seems like the kind of place that would for sure have ghosts #and kazari goes sure that tracks this place is fucking creepy can we leave now (<- is also curious but HAS to put on a show of reluctance #because clearly no-one else is going to)#(permanent babysitter of kids with the worst self-preservation instincts imaginable)#(she is so strong. living every childcare worker's nightmare)#ANYWAY #:D #normal type stuff #posting because it matches the artwork I'm also posting! look at that thing!!!#fay writes #oc tag #efri

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doctordonovan · 11 months

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I don't know who needs to hear this but please: it's so important to not make the other person put in all the enthusiasm. I know some people are shy, or don't love plotting, but if you just reply with one word answers or 'fair enough' or anything like that? you're not just making the situation uncomfortable for the other person, but you're likely making them more hesitant to reach out to others.

I'm not saying don't be yourself. I'm not saying force yourself into things. but please try to match people's energies?

I know I've said this before but if you're the person always putting in 99%? look after yourself. step away from things that are only draining you and giving nothing back. it's not a reflection on you, and you && your muse are wonderful. but you can't always be the person doing all the work, RP is a group hobby not a school project. if you're carrying it all on your back you might as well just go and write a fanfiction, it'll be quicker and less depressing.

find people who value your creativity, your work, your enthusiasm.

#𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘: // birdie rambles #𝗢𝗢𝗖: // making another little psa #𝗢𝗢𝗖: // please guys! we're all socially awkward that's why we're on here #𝗢𝗢𝗖: // but that's not an excuse to make people feel shitty #𝗢𝗢𝗖: // the amount of horror stories I've heard from people about times they've tried to reach out to people??#𝗢𝗢𝗖: // you don't need to be the most chatty person on earth! but at least seem like you care #𝗢𝗢𝗖: // bc I know nothing kills me quicker than 'haha true' or 'that's fair' followed by... nothing else?#𝗢𝗢𝗖: // meet people half way! put in the energy you wish to receive!#𝗢𝗢𝗖: // but if you don't get that energy back? know when to walk away

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blackgoliath · 3 months

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i def think that if they'd had another episode the finale wouldn't have felt kinda rushed but also idk i really enjoyed it lol. when daniel dropped the script bomb i was HOWLING

also ppl are complaining about the loustat reunion being super cheesy and sure but also have we forgotten these two are insanely overdramatic about everything but especially each other

#adam text #the hurricane was a little on the nose but again it was fun!#but ofc everyone on twitter is like WOW THIS WRITING IS SO HORRIBLE I EXPECTED SO MUCH #like its ok i promise #also i think they've done amazingly well for an era when you only get 8-9 episodes a season to fit in entire BOOKS #and gay shows can be canceled at any moment no matter how well received they are #maybe 10 years ago sure we would've had perfect pacing bc they would've gotten 5 seasons and 20+ episodes a pop from the getgo but #cut them a LITTLE slack maybe #iwtv spoilers /

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bizarrelittlemew · 2 years

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if you hate the thing so much why not just scroll by instead of reblogging and writing a novel in the tags

#the entitlement is so strong in some of these replies/tags #trying to dictate what people should write in comments is the reason readers are reluctant to do it actually so congrats you're the problem #so happy to see all the authors who are thankful for kudos-comments they've already received #and all the readers saying it has finally enabled them to leave comments even if it's just a small graphic #it's all a little overwhelming rn and i should probably go to sleep #personal #vaguing lmao #🐭📓

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abutterflyobsession · 11 months

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I am going to scream.

For over five years I have been asking my parents to send me my paintings and art miscellanea. Maybe eight years.

Now I get an email.

asking me.

if I want my stuff or if they should throw it away.

Years.

Asking for years.

So emotionally draining I've had multiple therapy seasons devoted to the subject.

Do I want.

My stuff.

In all ways but physical I am standing in an open field screaming at the unyielding sun.

#a butterfly obsesses #they. they reset or something #they've done this 'do you still want?' thing at least three times #every package I receive is the end of a process as long and arduous as a root canal without anesthesia #so maybe. my reply to the email. was a little sarcastic. little bit

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nettleparade · 1 year

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btw i have a timelapse comin along for that sanji painting i just have no idea how tiktok/youtube shorts or adding music 2 videos works

#not to mention there's my intense fear of putting my work/myself out there on social media to contend with #let alone actual social spaces #mind you it HAS been getting better w yknow. self-imposed exposure therapy and the like. slowly but surely i will drag myself out of this #but i am rly rly bewildered + grateful for the love this painting has received from everyone who's interacted w it. ngl im a bit stunned by #how much more openly loving tumblr is compared to twitter #i feel like that pic of that little cat being pet by like 20 people at once i keep rereading the tags and getting rly giddy about it #the 1000 or so sanjifuckers whove been leaving feral tags on my painting cannot conceptualize the impact they've had on my psyche (lovingly #thanks guys. truly <3 #anyways sry for the long rant expect that timelapse by at least the end of the week (god willing)#my computer screamed at me so hard for recording it so it deserves to actually get posted instead of just rotting in my files lol #idk whether yt shorts or tiktok is the best option for it but that's a question for tomorrow me

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imwritesometimes · 1 year

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ok. Just to show I'm not a complete asshole all the time. I am gonna fill out a polite little ~feedback~ form but. you all have got to understand. I've been dealing with agencies and companies and state departments almost my entire goddamn life. you almost never ever ever get anywhere when you go through the polite and established channels. but the second you get even a little upset in public down at the welfare office, well, they sure can find paperwork and documents and are able to remember rules a lot better.....

#just sayin........#I'm not against proper forms and open discussion cause I'm a massive asshole bitch #it's that it rarely if ever fuckin works #do you know how many times I've had to get a little heated in say a rite aid just to get my mom the meds she needs to be alive #you know how many times I've had to get a little rough down at the benefits office and then suddenly OH! YES! THIS PAPERWORK! WE FOUND IT!#I think the staff on this site could receive 800 feedback messages an hour telling them how shitty every decision they've made #for the last 6 months is #and they would not fuckin care #idk what the solution is. can't ever get a majority of ppl on this website to agree on ANYTHING so like a mass log out day or protest #or anything like it isn't gonna work #but I 100000% believe just sending feeback forms is not gonna get us shit either #there has to be something else to do. cause it's not like this whole ignoring the userbase is a NEW thing #just the last couple months have been nothing but users complaining. and rightfully so. but we have been ignored.#so yeah. I'm tired of ~fill out the feedback forms~ cause it feels a lot like #please sit patiently and wait for your mom's meds we don't care if she's having severe seizures we have to call her dr #and make sure the RX is current but we can't find the Dr's phoke number no you may not give it to us #like I'll come over the counter bitch #erin explains it all

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variantia · 2 years

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“ I may be outing myself as a hillbilly if I say I’m going to dip mini corndogs in cold leftover chili, but at least Lo won’t come after me for it. ”

Beat.

“ ... I mean, PROBABLY. ”

#tag‚ you're it. ( KRIS. )#(( listen Lo sweetie darling I love u but u can't come after them for this ok because this is MY dinner plan too #and all things considered this is among the LEAST weird things they've eaten #this stupid little goblin eats moss and tasted Susie's chalk a few times and eats a literal spoonful of sugar as a snack #BE HAPPY THEY'RE EATING /FOOD/#also my new batch of crystal confettis came and NO I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT #the pure SEROTONIN I am receiving right now going thru them all !!!!!#a a a a h ))

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thepoisonroom · 2 years

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is your cty hate about working or attending??? I worked there last summer and the kids were nice and cool but the program itself was an unmitigated disaster

sort of neither?? i just met cty alums in college who were insufferable about it in a Former Gifted Child way so i think of it as Their Annoying Thing

#i am not an understander of people who are so obsessed with their summer camp that they go back to work there as adults #i'm also just like a bit of a gifted n talented programming skeptic particularly when it's so tied to test scores #it's also kind of interesting but weird to me there there's such a robust ecosystem of programs and instituions that #feed (mostly wealthy) children directly into brand name universities #i was sort of blissfully unaware of it until college and then i was like wait u mean to tell me this is a billion dollar industry #looked it up and apparently JUST tutoring and test prep franchises JUST in the united states were worth $1.7 billion in 2022 #which doesn't even get into summer camps and math circles and the quizzing industry and extracurricular coaching and private schools #it's just this whole weird mostly-cloistered world #that turns out a hell of a lot of people who are blissfully unaware that they've been cultivated to thrive #because it's sold to them as participation in meritocracy #which is not to say it's not ALSO a pressure cooker for all sorts of other things such as mental illness #and it's also not to say that no marginalized students have ever gotten benefits from these programs #i feel like i overcomplicated this a little the long and short answer is that i had a roommate once who was a cty alum and employee #and he was and is the most annoying man i have ever met so i am a hater of things i associate with him on principle #but also all of the other stuff idk #anonymous #ask and receive

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chiropterx · 2 years

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This is self indulgent but I really love Tim and Kirk's (however brief) interactions in the canon that I've been able to read so 💭 + Kirk and Tim's interactions/relationship to each other?

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.

Kirk owes a lot to the Bat Family but from those interactions you've brought to attention, it's easy to agree that the relationship between Kirk and Tim is by far the most positive of them all and it's funny because even though they are brief, they've had significant impact on how Kirk views Tim! He definitely has a soft spot for the younger man; out of all the Robins, Tim has by far been the most willing to protect Kirk and his family, not just from himself but any others who would seek to harm or exploit him and his loved ones. That's not to say Batman and the others haven't helped tremendously. They have, but Tim's gone above and beyond each and every time they've crossed paths and Kirk would be a liar if he wasn't profoundly grateful to the youth. Tim even saved him from drowning once, which he still remembers despite how foggy his memory was at the time after spending an extended time as Man-Bat and suffice to say, he's the only member of the Bat Family that Kirk's listened to as Man-Bat. One more thing that Kirk likes about Tim? He's a gifted boy, intellectually years above his peers. As a scientist himself, I feel that Kirk could relate to Tim on that front. It doesn't matter whether or not he's the strongest, most skilled acrobat or ruthlessly efficient, Tim's got a heart of gold as far as Kirk's concerned and would protect him as readily as if he was his own child.

#volucerrubidus #memes ;; receive a headcanon #I spent a little time reading/watching those pointers and I just squealed #It's criminal that these two have had so few interactions but the ones there are have ben so good!#Time is such a sweetheart and doing so much for the Langstroms #Batman and everybody else are great but usually they're bringing down Man-Bat #Tim's unique in that he's protected Man-Bat and by extent his family when they too when through a mutation issue #Plus in Batman Unlimited he actually got through to Man-Bat #So they've helped each other #Definitely a great relationship 1000/10 would recommend ;3;

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schoolhater · 1 month

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I met this nice girl through my college friend. She's my friend's childhood best friend and I had heard so much about her so I was really excited to finally meet her. The three of us hung out at a stupid school-sponsored event into the late hours of the night, drinking soda and eating pizza and getting to know each other. At the end of it, she entered into a raffle and ended up winning free tickets to Disneyland. We celebrated and parted ways. It was the highlight of that semester.

A few months later, Israel began dropping bombs on her family home. I watched from afar as her entire life fell apart and her family was displaced and killed. Every time I asked how she was doing, she was doing bad.

In Palestine, as in a lot of places in the world, it is shameful to ask for money. A little bit after the war began, I passed a message along to her family offering to help raise funds for their evacuation, but they declined saying that they didn't want pity from anyone. Now it seems like they're running out of options.

My friend has already lost so much so please spare her the additional indignity of asking for help and not receiving it. I can't imagine how soul crushing it would be to do something you believe to be shameful and for your effort to go to waste.

Their goal is only $5000 and they've already raised ~$820, I don't see why we can't raise the full amount within the next week.

Verified by the fact that this is literally my IRL. DM me if u wanna see her Instagram or other contact info proving she's real. Tumblr is a rather unsafe place for Palestinians so I'd rather not publicize all her personal info but I've been pretty careful with the fundraisers I boost on this blog so I hope you can trust me here.

EDIT 08/24/24:

Thank you all so much for your support. You have no idea what it means to me after so many months of witnessing zionist attacks both online and off, to see so many people come together and commit to helping someone I care about without a single zionist comment. There’s nothing but love here.

My friend reached her goal early this morning and I even saw people encouraging others to keep donating because they realized her family would need more. I am truly moved by this incredible show of compassion from everyone.

As you can imagine, life in Gaza is becoming increasingly more expensive. My friend has raised her goal to $10000 - let’s keep this train going and get her there within a week 🙏

@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqis @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @evillesbianvillain

@aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@papenathys @slicedblackolives @heliopixels @nimbooz @hiveswap

@irhabiya @feluka @anneemay @tumkaafiho @fleshdyk3

@balaclava-trismegistus @heritageposts @ripley-stark @paandaan

@itsfookingloosah @rooh-afza @shesnake @akajustmerry @himejoshikaeya

@rainbowsnowflake @saint-oleander @f4rfields @cassandragemini

@fitzfunnymoments @skunkes @asharestupid @jonpertwee

#og #palestine #palestine resources #free palestine #free gaza #gaza strip #gaza #save palestine #i stand with palestine #palestine news #palestine genocide #fuck israel

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heritageposts · 1 month

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I'm writing this post to bring attention to the GFM campaign of @salahmanarfamily / @salahahmed90, a father of two in Gaza.

Salah has been working hard to promote his family's campaign every day for almost a month now, and yet, despite all the effort he's put in, they've only received a little over 70 donations.

If you have money to spare, please consider donating!

This is a campaign that is very low on funds.

-> GFM Link

The campaign has been verified by @/90-ghost.

€1,572 / €70,000

#palestine fundraisers #free palestine #palestine #gaza #if you can't donate then please help by sharing #or better: you could reach out to Salah yourself and see if there's anything you could do to help him promote his family's campaign #like making campaign art posting regular updates etc.

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corviiids · 9 months

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my top bit of advice going into the new year: compliment people. especially strangers. literally everyone you interact with if you can. when you buy coffee in the morning compliment the barista's tattoos. when you're chatting with a coworker tell them that by the way you like their outfit. always find something they've chosen to do on purpose. nail polish, jewellery, tattoos, hair colour/style, statement accessory, outfit, etc are all good bets. things people hope will be noticed. things that aren't too personal so it doesn't make them uncomfortable (eg probably not their physical features). i've gotten into the habit of scanning everyone i talk to for something about them that i think is cool so i can tell them. it's a great habit because it makes me notice people and realise just how many neat little details there are in people's presentation of themselves that might pass me by if i wasn't paying attention. and it brings out so much joy. you'd be surprised how much it disarms people to receive an unexpected compliment from someone they don't know. it is the most sincere smile you will see all day long. it feels nice to make people happy but it also means you win the social interaction. establish dominance by complimenting a stranger's earrings and disappearing into the fog

#rookposting #the little 'oh!' followed by a big grin is now my highlight in every interaction i have with a stranger #you can always spot the things people hope will be noticed and you have no idea how happy it makes people when it gets noticed #i find it's always better to compliment things they did deliberately vs complimenting stuff like their voice or their face or other things #that are inherent or they cant change because that can make people uncomfortable for one thing to hear that from a stranger #but it's also just less meaningful imo because they didnt do that on purpose

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absentlyabbie · 10 months

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seriously, though. i work in higher education, and part of my job is students sending me transcripts. you'd think the ones who have the least idea how to actually do that would be the older ones, and while sure, they definitely struggle with it, i see it most with the younger students. the teens to early 20s crowd.

very, astonishingly often, they don't know how to work with .pdf documents. i get garbage phone screenshots, sometimes inserted into an excel or word file for who knows what reason, but most often it's just a raw .jpg or other image file.

they definitely either don't know how to use a scanner, don't have access to one, or don't even know where they might go for that (staples and other office supply stores sometimes still have these services, but public libraries always have your back, kids.) so when they have a paper transcript and need to send me a copy electronically, it's just terrible photos at bad angles full of thumbs and text-obscuring shadows.

mind bogglingly frequently, i get cell phone photos of computer screens. they don't know how to take a screenshot on a computer. they don't know the function of the Print Screen button on the keyboard. they don't know how to right click a web page, hit "print", and choose "save as PDF" to produce a full and unbroken capture of the entirety of a webpage.

sometimes they'll just copy the text of a transcript and paste it right into the message of an email. that's if they figure out the difference between the body text portion of the email and the subject line, because quite frankly they often don't.

these are people who in most cases have done at least some college work already, but they have absolutely no clue how to utilize the attachment function in an email, and for some reason they don't consider they could google very quickly for instructions or even videos.

i am not taking a shit on gen z/gen alpha here, i'm really not.

what i am is aghast that they've been so massively failed on so many levels. the education system assumed they were "native" to technology and needed to be taught nothing. their parents assumed the same, or assumed the schools would teach them, or don't know how themselves and are too intimidated to figure it out and teach their kids these skills at home.

they spend hours a day on instagram and tiktok and youtube and etc, so they surely know (this is ridiculous to assume!!!) how to draft a formal email and format the text and what part goes where and what all those damn little symbols means, right? SURELY they're already familiar with every file type under the sun and know how to make use of whatever's salient in a pinch, right???

THEY MUST CERTAINLY know, innately, as one knows how to inhale, how to type in business formatting and formal communication style, how to present themselves in a way that gets them taken seriously by formal institutions, how to appear and be competent in basic/standard digital skills. SURELY. Of course. RIGHT!!!!

it's MADDENING, it's insane, and it's frustrating from the receiving end, but even more frustrating knowing they're stumbling blind out there in the digital spaces of grown-up matters, being dismissed, being considered less intelligent, being talked down to, because every adult and system responsible for them just

ASSUMED they should "just know" or "just figure out" these important things no one ever bothered to teach them, or half the time even introduce the concepts of before asking them to do it, on the spot, with high educational or professional stakes.

kids shouldn't have to supplement their own education like this and get sneered and scoffed at if they don't.

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