anonymous asked:

You people act like trump isn't so bad just because he hasn't been given the power yet. He's never had ANY type of political power, how would a single one of us truly know what he's going to do? when certain countries cease to exist altogether you'll wish you thought different. His plans are way worse than anything Hilary's done and he makes shit up like a fairytale but somehow Hillary is the big liar. I hope he gets elected though tbh cause I'm depressed and it's guaranteed death for me

You people act like Trump is going to turn the entire country into a nightmare dystopia with the stroke of a pen and that Clinton will be constrained by Checks & Balances™; it doesn’t work like that. 

How is building a wall worse than, say, facilitating arms shipments from Libya to terrorists in Syria for the purpose of overthrowing Assad? Trump says he wants to build a national database of Muslims. Clinton’s State Department already has.

Between the two, I would hope Trump gets elected. At least then the presidency would fall under scrutiny. 

An exceptional man: Vietnamese man adopts unwanted children to save them from abortion
Tong Phuoc Phuc is an exceptional man, with an exceptional way of dealing with the rampant abortion rate in Vietnam: He adopts the unwanted children. Over fifty of them so far, to be exact.

The kindness of the pro-life movement will never cease to astound me. Ran across a video about this man on Facebook, did some research, and his story is honestly really beautiful.

Not only has he provided dignified burials of thousands of aborted children, he is raising all of these beautiful babies as his own after helping women who had been considering abortions make the right choice.

God bless you, Mr. Phuc.

Headcanon on Momma Cry's Overwatch backstory

“Momma” CR9-8489 is an artificial construct - a genetically engineered, lab-grown organism. Illegally lab-grown, for some very sick people. While she didn’t much like her fate, she had grown resigned to it and her inability to fight it. That is, until the wall exploded. Overwatch came down on the facility like a thunderbolt, destroying all constructs before they could grow to full intelligence, offering mercy to those too broken to be helped, and saving all those they could. “Momma” was one of the ones to be saved. After the excessive amounts of hormones were flushed from her system, she was given freedom. She chose to stay with Overwatch. Following in Mercy’s footsteps, she took up biotically enhanced claws and other tools, offering help to all those in need. When Overwatch ended, she was emotionally devastated, but refused to cease what she viewed as “her duty.” Now that 76 is slowly rebuilding, she has come to his side, willing to bring her fight to the public eye once again.

Despite how heroic she tries to be, the hormone treatments from her past can come up occasionally, inducing some rather strange behaviors. She sometimes slips her hormones into her biotic needles, sticking other heroes with them. Many an embarrassing one-night stand has resulted from this. Strangely, her favorite targets are a pair of men (“Junkrat” and “Roadhog”) both claiming to be straight; stranger still, they seem to enjoy it.

I had to do some more sketches of her, I cannot believe you wrote all this im screaming. That last part I lost my shit omfg

Here’s the original Support Momma post and Geekos ability descriptions, this kid is creative af  


Ibn Mas’ood mentioned:

“Verily, the people will not cease being in good, as long as they take their Ilm from the older ones (scholars), and from the trustworthy ones and from their scholars. And if they take it from the younger ones and the evil ones from amongst them, then they are sure to be destroyed.“

• [As-Saheehah 2:309,310]

all washed up

Imagine a pocket-sized you peering into the laundry basket at the foot of the bunk, searching for the candy you’d dropped moments earlier. Usually, you wouldn’t be so concerned about missing out on the last sweet, but the smell of sugar might attract monsters insects. You shiver at the thought, and scramble onto the handle with grim determination.

You dive in.

The basket smells like sweat and heavy cologne, but you plug your nose and wiggle deeper.

Your whole world shakes, and you freeze. It shakes again. And again. And then a little pit opens up in your tummy; the kind of sensation you get during a free-fall. With a thud, the tremors cease. You hope beyond hope that one of the boys was just moving the basket aside.

Everything tips sharply to the right, and you don’t even have time to scream before you’re engulfed by a fabric avalanche, sending you into the maw of the washing machine.

Jungkook is humming as he fiddles with the laundry detergent, completely oblivious to how you finally come up for air, a hand over your pounding heart. To your shock, you are already sealed off from the outside world by the lid. You bang your tiny fists on the hatch and call for help.

Your pleas go unanswered, and the machine hums to life, water trickling down from the ceiling. All of the blood in your body goes straight to your toes, and you throw yourself against the lid with more fervor than before.

Jungkook, about to return to his bedroom, hears a quiet tapping sound, and turns to behold an unexpected sight. He immediately frees you from your watery prison, your hair and clothes damp, eyes a little teary, and he apologizes profusely before promising that he would make it up to you in any way he could.

You hide your sinister grin and assure him you’ll keep his promise in mind.

It never ceases to amaze me how in 2016 people STILL try to tell me that “some slaves were treated well” or that “not all slave owners were bad.” Whether or not you beat or assaulted your slaves or gave them nice clothes or food or even if you let families stay together, OWNING another human being is not okay.

(Disclaimer: I don’t know anything about Ian’s actual mental state, obviously as a fan I wish for him to be happy and well. I’m just writing a what-if scenario, and using my own past struggle with depression to base it off of.)

Imagine Ian actually has depression. He doesn’t know how or why it began–and honestly, even when it started is kind of unknown. He just knows that gradually his world dimmed to be like an old TV, gray scale and with the volume (of excitement) turned down.

At first, he didn’t know what was wrong. Things just slowly started to cease to cause a strong reaction out of him and he felt emotionally exhausted constantly. Friends and family noticed and tried to get him into things he used to enjoy, but they just seemed so dull to him. Filming felt tiresome and pointless, even for ideas he had been excited about doing hours before.

Normally when he goes to Australia to see Max, Joji, and everyone, he’s excited but this time it felt like a chore. When he pulled up to Max’s house in a rental car, Max immediately jumped on the hood yelling excitedly, while Joji yanked his car door open to hug him. He wanted to return their enthusiasm but was concerned when he realized that he couldn’t.

They had been talking on Max’s couch for hours before Ian felt the mood change to a serious one. “Ian, we saw your last video.”

“Yeah?” Ian replied, not sure where this was going.

“It was so lifeless, and I know it wasn’t just acting because your eyes were so dull–and they’re never dull. It kind of made us concerned. We just want to know if you’re okay.”

Ian shrugged and leaned into the couch. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Max and Joji weren’t fooled. “Bullshit, Ian. Tell us what’s going on.”

Ian squirmed in his seat as Max put an arm around his shoulder, and Joji held his hand while looking into his eyes warmly. Ian squeezed Joji’s hand. “I don’t know, to be honest. Everything just feels so…” He didn’t know how to explain it.

How do you explain what it’s like when nothing truly makes you excited for longer than a couple of hours–even stuff you’ve been excited about for years? Especially when the likely response (that he heard over and over from his family) would be, “Well, then try to find something new that you’ll like.” or “Everyone gets tired of stuff. It’s called growing up.”

Ian sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m just so tired. Can we talk about this later?”

Max stood up. “Yeah, that’s fine. Let me get your air mattress ready.” Joji and Ian sat in silence; Joji still holding Ian’s hand as a sign of silent support. Max came back in the room a few minutes later. “It’s all ready for you. See you later buddy.” He hugged Ian and whispered, “Tell us when you’re ready, we’ll wait for you.” Ian felt a bit choked up when Max pulled away from him because that’s what he needed–someone to be patient with him, especially when he didn’t know what he was dealing with.

Ian slept through the night, but when he woke up, he found it hard to move around. He was just as tired as he was last night, and he knew he couldn’t just blame the jet lag. This was what he felt like the whole day. The guys didn’t push him to do anything, they just let him do what he could at his own pace, which he appreciated.

The next day he felt better than he had for the last two days, so he got up and made himself breakfast. Max came in and smiled at him, “Are you feeling better?” Ian nodded. “Yeah, a lot better.” Max was relieved and talked to him excitedly about Pokemon Go and other things that didn’t related to his well-being.

After he finished eating, he started to edit a video he needed to upload. He tried to ignore how unconcerned he was about the content, but it bothered him that he was producing content that he didn’t care about.

Max came in and sat on the bed next to him. “Do you feel up to going shopping? We can film some stuff.”

It was halfway through being uploaded when he realized that feeling of tiredness had returned. Ian thought about it and shrugged. “Not really.” Max started to rub his back. “Are you feeling tired again?” Ian nodded. “Yeah.”

Max was silent for a few minutes, thinking. “You know that wheelchair I have? Would it help if I pushed you around so you wouldn’t have to walk?” Ian thought about it and shrugged. “I could try.”

Ian had no idea what kind of magic Max did on him, but he felt a bit of his energy come back on the way to the store. When they got there he even jumped off the car and was able to be more lively on camera than he had been recently. His friends were ecstatic to see him like this and demanded that he go to dinner with them.

He didn’t need the wheelchair for the rest of the day, but then they got back in the car that night and he felt himself being on the decline again. Max saw this and told him to lean on his shoulder and take a nap. Ian followed his orders and faded away soon after that.

This pattern of going up and down with how tired he felt, went on for the whole time he was there. Every time he felt low during filming, Max would give him a piggyback ride, Joji would push him in his wheelchair, and Chad would give him a hug and say something just to get a reaction out of him.

They never expressed resentment over how he was feeling. They never demanded for him to explain himself or to get over it. They just supported him and were patient when he became frustrated that he couldn’t do things that he believed he should have been able to do.

It didn’t happen immediately, but over time the days of not being exhausted outnumbered the ones that were. He tried to pin down what exactly was causing this change but he knew that it wasn’t solely because of his friends and family supporting him, or that what he filmed what he enjoyed.

Gradually doing stuff became easier, and he could wake up excited about what he would do that day. Then one day, he realized it was over–the feeling was gone; it had retracted its hold on him.

It was possible for life to be exciting and wonderful again. Ian was happy and lived contentedly.

lipsiesteatime replied to your post:I dont think talon’s doctors ever went to med…

But imagine… if Angela Ziegler can raise the fucking dead, maybe her research can be used to heal the damage Amelies organs would have AND boost her abilities.

Okay this nanotech is driving me nuts. I’ve been trying to figure out what the activating mechanism would be to bring people back to life because so many factors go into oncotic cell death that it’s like… how could a single injection of something or a single boost of something reverse all that damage? 

In order for a complex organism like a human to die, at least dozens of chemical changes happen in their bodies, and the cascade of these changes and their impact and contribution to each other leads to irreversible destruction of cells in the person’s body. Like, the cells degrade, they cease to have the functional parts cells have because of the toxic destruction of them. They become toxic goo that poisons other cells, it’s not something you can go ‘ding!’ and reverse. The idea that a single type of technology could reverse this process just makes no sense to me. 

Now, if Mercy’s technology is actually a technology that reverses what would become refactory shock but isn’t yet refractory shock, that makes sense to me. And since Mercy needs to rez you within 6 seconds of your death, that sort of makes sense. I think her technology prevents oncosis rather than reversing it. That makes more sense, introducing some sort of energy or chemical that halts toxic processes that lead to cell death. 

Although, really, I can’t figure that out, either, because if your blood is all over the ground and not in your veins, how is temporarily preventing refractory shock going to solve the problem of no blood to circulate?





“[I am subjecting Megatron to Rap Hell for the next three hours or until this body ceases to function through passing out]”

“[It’s time for a Real Stroke]”

“[Megatron is going to die]”

“[I am going to enjoy this hell]”

“[Time for Sugar Hell]”

“[Everybody in this bitch getting tipsy]”

anonymous asked:

its a shame that you talk about ur family with such disdain regarding animals even though it is their lifestyle choice, as wrong as it may be. so many people don't have a loving family and the bitterness of ur words towards the people keeping a roof over ur head makes me sad :(

I wouldn’t respect my family members if they chose to abuse humans, I don’t respect their decisions to readily abuse animals. Personal or lifestyle choices cease to be just “personal” when a victim is involved. Abuse, exploitation and killing are not simply lifestyle choices, they are harmful behaviours that should be challenged. I love every single member of my family and appreciate everything they do for me but it doesn’t make it any easier for me to watch them eat carcasses and go against absolutely everything I believe in every single day for their own shortlived pleasure.

anonymous asked:

Oh my GARCHOMP, I just realized you remind me of DJ Mary from Pokemon Talk praising all these Pokemon. "Rattata, more than expected, it will never cease to amaze you!" Hahaha

Wow, that me. Tune in to Pokémon Positivity Radio™ every day with DJ Jayden here on chipsprites.tumblr.com.

Brush Its Teeth Every Two Weeks

They said. More like, our vet said. She checked Harley’s teeth few weeks back and said she now has adult teeth and we should be brushing it. Today we decided to take that challenge. Harley didn’t like that. 

Harley: What. Is. That? I don’t like it, keep it away from me. No, I’m serious. Where do you think you’re going to put that? Stop. No. Stop right now! 

Harley: This is not funny, humans. Take that thing out of my mouth right this second! I warn you…


Harley: Now, you have gone and did it. You have killed me. See? I’m dead. You can stop it. I don’t move. I’m just laying here, completely dead. Tots your fault. 


We would talk for days

Arguing on the spending of a penny

And hours on end about whether our heads

Could reach a place

Where optic apices could meet

Or for weeks on how if all streets are connected

Then with the right steps could I walk a beat to anyone?


Our mouths moved with a fury

As of excited blue sea

Spitting spray conversation

In the form of endless questions and debating

Always hating answers absolute

And so making new ways

For tongues to dance around truths


Because to stop talking was to stop breathing

When speaking and sharing with you

Our caring was cursing and swearing

At the differences in views for

Any given topic of discussion

Disagreement only breeding

Better closesness for us both

And silence driving two apart –

Open space grew between when mouths closed

And lips ceased their art


Until their came a question posed

That drove you from my life

And though your ghost still haunts

I’ve stopped asking it why

Departure was all you could provide

In response

Because time has brought

Realisation with a blow:

You cared too much to share

The answer you had

The only one I thought I wanted, that you owed

But truly, “do you love me?”

I would always rather not know