@strixmoonwing / strixmoonwing.tumblr.com
finally finished this painting i sketched out months ago… please click for better quality i know tumblr is gonna kill it (reference used)
Oh my god this is a painting
Me: This is not a painting at all I don’t believe it even though everyone is saying it and the artist themselves said it
*clicks for better quality and zooms in*
Oh my goodness this is a painting
holy shit they weren’t joking this is a painting
my followers can have some cave pics, as a treat
Good reference for writers
“Nobody’s going to want to sit on high-speed rail for fifteen hours to get from New York City to LA.”
Me. I will sit on high-speed rail for fifteen hours. I’ll sit on it for days. I’ll write and read and nap and eat and then do it all over again. I’ll stare out the windows and see America from ground level and not have to drive. I’ll see the Rockies and the deserts and cornfields and the Mississippi River and your house and yours and yours too. I’ll make up stories in my head about the small towns I see as we go along. I’ll see the states I’ve yet to see because driving or flying there is a fucking slog and expensive to boot. I’ll enjoy the ride as much as the destination. And then I’ll do it all over again to come the fuck home.
Me getting slammed with notifications on this post in particular:
:)
I used to love going to San Diego for Comic Con by train. I’d start in Chicago, take a train that would take two or three days of bimbling through lower Illinois and Texas and New Mexico and I’d get to LA and then a commuter train to San Diego. I’d meet thousands of people in San Diego and then I’d get on the train in LA and go up the coast and then head East and spend another day or two decompressing until I got off in Minneapolis St Paul. It was the best time of the year. Sometimes I’d write and sometimes I’d stare out of the window.
it really is insane how waking up early will grant you access to some of the most beautiful sights and sensations in the world that will make you want to live forever, but only if you overcome the gauntlet of a thousand razors that is getting out of bed early. truly one of life's little saw traps.
I have personally learned from experience that if I have the house to myself for whatever reason, I get up early and am super productive.
A few years ago it was just me and my brother at home. My sister didn't move back in with us yet and my folks spent 3 weeks leaving super ass-butt-o'clock early and coming home close to 10pm-11pm.
My brother and I, who were super super night people, Like up at 1pm; sleep at 5am-6am, suddenly without any work just... woke up early. Like first it was 10am, the next day 8am, suddenly we're getting up at 7am every day, getting all the chores done, keeping the house cleaner than it was left and having all this time to chill. The minute my folks were done and back home all day we very suddenly just... slipped back into being night people...
So it turns out if my folks leave the hours for hours on end we unprompted become day peeps.
Vampires today aren’t as bloodthirsty as they were centuries ago because the average modern human provides more nourishment than 5 sickly Victorian chimney sweepers combined. Woman who eats 3 square meals a day with dessert: are you okay? The vampire who bit her:
benji crumbs from the trailer. Netflix youve got ONE JOB, ONE MORE CHANCE TO NOT FUCK THIS UP. dont.
If you genuinely, truly, absolutely, cannot bring yourself to vote for the president of the united states, please just show up for elections anyway and vote for your congresspeople and local representatives.
Please.
Just.
If you cannot bring yourself to vote for the president because he's so disgusting of a candidate you morally cannot bring yourself to cross that line, then PLEASE vote for your congresspeople and local representatives who can block, defend, or present new bills, actions, acts, etc.
These are the people who can actually confirm or deny or impede horrendous acts when they happen.
Like. This is the bare minimum. If you cannot vote for the President, please just still vote for someone.
Change doesn't happen if you don't vote for the people willing to enact change.
The "smaller" elections often have the biggest impact on your actual life. Everything starts local and works its way outward, not the other way around. Every time a judge lets a cop off the hook for killing an unarmed person? You can vote those judges out. Those anti-queer laws in your home state? You can vote out the governor. Hate seeing your taxes raised for the sake of more cops while the schools and the roads go to shit? You can vote on those tax bills. "Blue" states aren't safer just because of who they vote for as president. It's because they voted for better governors, better judges, better laws.
You gotta do it, because fuckhead old conservatives are doing it. They've got bad ideas and they're willing to make them your problem. Your single vote might not count for much in the presidential election, but it absolutely has an impact on who is in charge in your particular town.
Your vote in a schoolboard election can mean the difference between electing someone who thinks public schools are good versus someone who reps Moms For Liberty and not so secretly wants to burn books that make them feel icky.
Part of why the regressive bigots of the right wing have had their way is because they work at the local level, and have traditionally seen minimal actual pushback because so much attention is placed on the highest offices. There's actually so few of them, they literally ship the same handful of people across state lines for their shitty little bigot cry-fests, and more and more we're seeing that they shrivel and run away at any show of opposing numbers in local school boards and parents' meetings.
There's more of us than there are of them. Time to remind them of that on a fundamental level.
I learned what sun poisoning is recently and now I keep getting scared when I see suspiciously pink white people out and about during the day. Like dude get back inside you're in danger
The only thing that matters is you having fun! Not what others think!
dadchuck is everything to me
i love everything about this troll stuff though
"i'm literally looking at one right now dude"
(via @rlyehtaxidermist)
its definitely funny when marcille gets a little mean with it but its so important to me that they are also Best Friends
*puts a silly hat on so that you can't come after me*
you know what would be super cool?
if at some point in CT Ben casually mentioned that he used to have a crush on Kenji. I'm talking about this scene, you know, when it was super-obvious, right
Like, imagine, maybe they are reminiscing over Brooklyn - in a typical Nublar Six-esque style the good memories mix up with the bad memories, and suddenly Ben goes like "ah, yes it was back when I still had a crush on Kenji", and everyone's like what. And Ben, that silly little six-foot-tall creature made of muscle, has the audacity to blush and ruffle his hair, and refuses to meet anyone's eyes and says in that small, bashful tone "wasn't that kind of obvious?"
*puts the silly hat off, turns out it was a kenji's captain hat all along*
I know this isn't ninjago guys but I finished this 17 hour painting for my art class and I was proud of it so...enjoy.
I love Egypt fun fact about me. :)
A PAINTING????
obligatory
A customer contacted our team with questions, and then finished their email with: "I am daunted by the complexities and unknowns." I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.
Reblog if you are daunted by the complexities and unknowns
You know what I find fascinating about Nimona?
The fact that she wanted to be a sidekick.
Nimona is easily the most powerful being in the kingdom, possibly the world. She could very easily overpower Ballister if she wanted to.
But she doesn’t. She asks to be his sidekick. And then she actually treats him like a boss and lets him call the shots.
Because at the end of the day, Nimona is just a kid. A kid who has probably never had a parental figure in her life.
She wants someone to look up to. Someone to tell her what to do. Someone to take care of her.
I can’t state enough how beneficial it was to work at the sex shop as my first retail job. We were encouraged to practice shutting down inappropriate behavior and it became a well practiced skill set. I had a flat stare, icy tones of disapproval, and a demeanor of untouchable scorn to back it all up. I could get the most hardened of perverts to back off or leave in a matter of sentences if they harassed staff or other customers.
When I moved on to selling mattresses I came prepared to handle pretty much any situation with the unruffled calm of someone who has asked Santa to stop touching himself and leave. To my vast surprise it was a skill I needed on the regular at the mattress store. For whatever reason men thought it was the height of entertainment to sexually harass me because I was young and cheerful.
They would always quickly learn they’d picked the wrong target.
One day a man strolled in, sizing me up as he came. He saw a young, tiny, afab person alone in the store and came to a stop way too close. He used his height to leer down at me and said, “I’m looking for a new headboard. Which ones are the best for sex?”
It was so stupid. He looked down at me with half lidded eyes and the grin of a man who owns an unmarked white van. He probably expected me to laugh uncomfortably or act flustered. He wanted to feel tall and powerful or maybe even sexy.
He was not expecting what he got. My face stretched into what could technically be described as a smile but was more accurately a threat display. The temperature in the room plummeted as I dropped all warmth in my demeanor. He took a half step back, suddenly aware that he was alone in a room with me.
“Well, sir, that depends on what kind of sex you’re having. If you are looking for a headboard that is grippeable, I suggest this model. The metal is rounded and wouldn’t hurt a hand gripping it tightly. However if you want something that you can secure with restraints, I recommend this wooden one as the slats are wide and quite sturdy.”
He looked liked I’d hit him over the head with a board and stared down at me blankly, taken aback by the authoritative way that I discussed the merits of his lackluster sex life. I met his eyes, a veiled threat in mine, and said, “Which one will you be purchasing?”
He tucked his tail between his legs and bought the metal one. I pulled up a thin layer of friendliness as I rang him up but he had the chastened air of a man who just ran straight into an iron pole.
Another time a man crawled up onto a tempurpedic and thrusted into an invisible partner. He gave a cocky look over his shoulder, sure that he was going to discomfit me as he asked, “How are these babies for fucking?”
I gave him a deadpan look and and said, “That depends on if you’re someone who has to rely on the bounce of springs for your thrusts. Memory foam beds are nicer on knees and joints for positions like doggy style but they absorb a lot of kinetic energy.”
He visibly deflated and got down off the bed with a vaguely ashamed air.
He bought a spring mattress.
some idiot aprox. 5 seconds after bothering the OP:
weaponized competence
