asylum*

*when the entire fandom is fighting*

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Me: I’m going to write a story where a cute little girl befriends a group of ghosts in an old asylum who immediately become her family and love her and teach her to love herself and her disability.

Me Twenty-Four Hours Later: Okay so obviously there’s a subplot with two lesbian ghosts who died in the asylum, the one having been sent there by a man who thought that if he shocked her enough times, she would marry him, and the other having been sent there after being emotionally destroyed when her girlfriend died.

I just love it when stories evolve…

Sometimes I think of a scene in season 1 of Supernatural, where Sam and Dean get a text from John and Sam is all skeptical about John sending a text because, according to him, “the man can’t work a toaster.” Sometimes I think about that line, because there has to be a story behind it. And I’m just imagining John Winchester, might demon hunter, spectacularly failing at using a toaster. Failing so much at using a toaster that, years later, Sam can say that John can’t work a toaster and Dean doesn’t even defend John’s toaster skills. There was probably some sort of unspoken rule afterwards that John was not allowed to be in charge of toaster-related duties.

“The man can’t work a toaster” is probably my favorite Supernatural quote from season 1. (:

The first excerpt from Seeking Asylum - my upcoming book which you can read about here: x

“Mama Rose,” said Bea, “What’s wrong?”

The plump ghost backed away from her. Silver droplets trickled down her cheeks, splashing onto the floor. They immediately froze.

A wind was sweeping through the corridor. Bea turned and met it with a gasp. It hugged her, even when she didn’t want to be hugged. She pulled herself out of its clutches. It was a cold wind, bitter and hard, not one to be denied a hug.

“Mama Rose,” Bea cried.

The ghost turned away. Ice crawled along the walls, sweeping across the floor, nipping at the child. She made little clouds every time she breathed.

“Stay away from me, Beatrice,” Mama Rose said.

“N-no!”

The pleas did nothing to stop the ghost. Bea tried going after her. Her cane ended up slipping and she fell onto her stomach. She held back a whimper as she slid forward. Her nose bumped into the ice, causing her to sneeze.

Looking up was a mistake. Looking up allowed her to see that Mama Rose wasn’t coming to help her. She was hurrying down the hall, strange wails exploding from her body like fireworks. They bounced along the walls, striking the girl.

She covered her head and waited for the noise to stop.

It didn’t.

The noise hit her over and over and over again. It came in waves until she was drowning in it. She knew that she needed to talk to the ghost. It was the only way to make the terribleness stop. It was the only way to make the cold go away.

She was shivering slightly as she reached for her canes. It took every ounce of strength that she had to push herself to her feet. She slid once or twice, biting down on her lip, but she was able to make it to the end of the corridor.

There were stairs there, tall and dusty, reaching into the darkness. She swung one leg up and then another. The canes followed suit. Her breath continued to puff up as she attempted to climb the stairs. For a fleeting moment, she thought that she was going to make it. But ice and canes rarely mix, nor do gravity and girls.

Thoughts?

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Yesterday after we were done working at the booth, I picked up a little something for my dear friend Ash, aka @wouldyouliketoseemymask!! I couldn’t wait to share it :3💛💛

And below, @dinoandrade was kind enough to give me the first one of his brand new prints for signing, featuring the Arkham Underworld artwork!☺️ SDCC 2016 is going great so far. We’ll be working at the Soul Geek booth for a few hours again today, then just roaming around the con! I hope to see some of you there! 🎃

“Are we contributing to something good or are we just helping Greece to do something wrong? /…/ I hope that my children and grandchildren can look back on what their father and grandfather did as something that was right, that he did something good; that this will not be a shadow in European history that I have contributed to. I really hope so.”

Frontex, EU’s External Border Control Agency, has experienced some backlash since its inception in 2004, mainly because it’s been linked to human rights violations. Border guard officers are expected to control migration while fully respecting fundamental rights, including the right to asylum. But is the humanitarian discourse simply a discursive tool to justify certain EU policies and actions?

Image: Refugees on the Hungarian M1 highway on their march towards the Austrian border by photog_at. CC BY 2.0 via Flickr.

Some of you were asking for pictures on how he’s doing, so… here he is. I’ve been waiting in the hospital with him so he wouldn’t wake up without someone he knows here (if he does wake up). Granted, I’m not the most familiar face he could wake up to, but I guess I’m better than nobody.
Don’t worry about the patients at the asylum- I didn’t leave them all by themselves. They’re being supervised by some of the other nice doctors and nurses we have there.
Visiting hours are ending here, so I thought I’d post this before heading out for the night. I hope this eased some of your guys’ concern.

roleplaymay  asked:

if he can climb to the top of Arkham asylum then back down and escape in one night (in the game Arkham asylum) he can climb the god damn dinosaur, Pokemon go or not Eddie's got crazy mad climbing skill yo!

OHHHH!! YOU’RE RIGHT! Eddie is a climbing fiend who baffles everyone. “How the hell did he get up there?”.

Those riddler trophies are proof!

The Falangist, 1937 

 
 "Antonio Rodríguez Luna (July 22, 1910 – 1985) was a Spanish painter who developed most of his career while in exile in Mexico during the Spanish Civil War. He began his career young, while still studying in Madrid and before the war had already exhibited in various places in Europe. His opposition to Francisco Franco, forced him into exile, with intellectuals and artists in the country arranging his asylum. His career here included a Guggenheim Fellowship with major exhibitions in Washington DC and New York along with exhibitions at the Museo de Arte Moderno and the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico. Despite his success, he never forgot his Spanish roots, with an exhibition in Madrid in 1971 and a return to his hometown of Montoro in 1981, after the death of Franco.“

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“ Well… I’m sure they’ve seen better days. Everybody is more emotionally/mentally distressed than anything, but so far everyone’s just trying to return everything back to normality. Evan was obviously a little rattled from what had happened, but he seems much better now. He’s as cheery as Evan can be! ”