trans mulder and scully icons bc im a t4t sculder truther. free to use no credit needed
also feel free to make a request if there's a specific image/flag combo you want :]
trans mulder and scully icons bc im a t4t sculder truther. free to use no credit needed
also feel free to make a request if there's a specific image/flag combo you want :]
would y'all be interested in a jeff transmasc x britta transfem fic? bc I have a lot of ideas for them :)
don't leave me!
i’ve seen like six different mentally ill women reblog this today
well i’ve seen like seven mentally ill women reblog this today
happy birthday to a decade-old meme.
happy 12th birthday none pizza with left beef
happy sweet 16 to none pizza with left beef
last night i had a dream that i told a joke that was so funny it killed people. I woke up after killing someone with it and in my tired stupor, rushed to write it down before I forgot it or fell back asleep. I just checked and this is what i wrote down
There are political newspaper comics that aren't this succinct
The irony of Karlach being mono is that she is by a long shot the single most poly coded character to ever be rendered within Baldur's Gate 3.
I cannot stretch enough how poly coded this character is. The character in second position, whoever they may be, is like 7% as poly coded as Karlach is. She is so fucking poly coded it ain't even funny. And she is not poly. Absurdity.
Were the "Moms for Liberty" prosecuted for theft?
a concept:
the year is 1997, and the Wiskayok High Yellowjackets have been rescued from the Canadian wilderness. they are traumatized. they are haunted. there are way fewer of them now than there used to be.
Jeff Sadecki really wants to take Shauna Shipman out on a date.
(something easy, he says! something to help you feel like a normal person again! maybe bowling? the movies? no pressure!)
the year is 1997…
…and there is only one movie you take your date to see if you’re a teenager.
and so Shauna Shipman has to sit there through three hours and fifteen minutes of Titanic only for the ending to be that the love interest, named JACK, *freezes to death.* not because he has to, but because he insists upon it, or maybe because that girl who’s obsessed with him kind of forces his hand. society at large deems his death so hilarious and unnecessary it literally becomes a national meme that lasts into the present day
which isn’t even the worst part
because the worst part is knowing Jackie would have fucking loved Titanic
little sketches from this afternoon
another one!
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin. They both looked down at the crumpled shape of the Overlord, His Unholy Majesty, in his obsidian armor.
His final spasms had been mesmerizingly acrobatic. The fall down the steps leading up to his iron throne had pretzelled his body quite impressively, both arms folded behind his back and one leg bent at a jaunty angle.
The goblin looked at the orc. The orc looked at the goblin.
"Shit," said the goblin.
"Shit," said the orc.
"We're likely to get blamed for this," the goblin said. She walked over to the head of the glittering mangled heap and started pulling the helmet off.
"It's not our fault," the orc said. "It's hard to help someone choking when they wear two-hundred pounds of spiked armor at all times."
"Yeah, well," the goblin grunted. The helmet came free, and the bald head of the Overlord bounced on the stone with a hollow, coconut noise. "You know how it is in this bloody country - thieves get their heads cut off so they can't think about thieving, and all that." She fished in the Overlord's mouth with a finger and pulled out the obstructing olive on the end of her claw.
She popped it into her mouth and chewed. "What do you reckon they do for a regicide?" she said.
"We should run," the orc said. She had started bouncing her leg. "I hear that there's some places in the Alliance where they just kill you and let you stay dead. That's got to be nicer than what'll happen if we stay here."
The goblin started to nod - and then her gaze fell on the helmet.
It looked like a pineapple designed by a deranged blacksmith. It was all thorns and spikes and hard edges, as though the maker had been very determined to not let pigeons roost on it. The only bits that weren't solid iron were eyeholes. Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face.
She held up the helmet and squinted from it to the orc. One of the thorns had been bent badly in the fall.
Nobody had ever seen the Overlord's face...
"Right," she muttered. "Right. Could work - or."
The orc had a sudden vision of the immediate future. "No," she said.
"I mean you're about his height-"
"No."
"It would just be for a-"
"Absolutely not."
"Just hear me out," the goblin said. "Outside of this room are two-thousand men and orcs and goblins who are absolutely gonzo about this man, and there's a whole country of them outside of the castle, and at any moment someone's going to walk in that door and see one dead tit in black armor and two unbelievably dead idiots next to him.
"Or." She tossed the helmet up like a basketball to the orc, who fumbled and tried to find somewhere to hold it that wasn't a knife's edge. "We chuck him out the window now, walk out the door in the armor, and ditch the armor as soon as nobody sees us."
The orc had started bouncing her leg again. "They'll know something's up the second I walk out of the room."
"No worries," said the goblin. "Leave that to me."
---
It had been a very strange year for the Empire.
Change had rolled across the land as slow and inevitable as a glacier. Roads and bridges carved the gray, blasted wildlands, and a number of social reforms had made the country a place where you could be miserable, yes, but miserable in comfort and safety, and that was an improvement.
Barely anyone got boiled alive in molten metal, and even if the disgusted sun never rose to light the Empire, at least you had a roof over your head to protect yourself from the acid rain.