Do you wanna build a rook gang?
C'mon let’s go and slay
I never see you anymore, please leave your books, The shroud can wait.
We used to be best buddies, but now we’re not, is it cuz father died?
Do you wanna build a rook gang?
It doesn’t have be called rook gang.
(Evie: fuck off Jacob!)
(Jacob: EVIE FRYE!!…)
Do you wanna build a rook gang,
Ride our carriage down the street. I think some violence is over due, I started kicking off the Templars from the roof.
(Piss off you bloody wanker!!)
It gets a little lonely, screaming obscenities
Watching exploding trains *explosion* (HAHAHAH!)
Do you wanna build a rook gang, it doesn’t have to be called rook gang.
I know you’re in there, Henry’s asking where you’ve been.
Templars need killing and I’m trying to, I’m right out here won’t you just let me in.
We only have each other, it’s just you and me, I’ll blow up Starrick alone
Do you wanna build a rook gang…
Evie: GODDAMIT Jacob that’s the last time I let you see that stupid movie!! I’m trying to track down the shroud!!
Demain j’ai un DS de français hyper important mais comme je suis en train de mourir peu à peu j’ai rien bossé et je vais rater ma vie et ma tête est actuellement en train d’exploser Du coup j’ai fait des sablés vanille/choco spiralés.
man's best friend word prompt: calm (wasn't sure if it got sent.)
Send me an ask with a single word and I’ll respond with a >200 word ficlet set in the service dog!Verse.
Oliver Queen hated loud noises.
It didn’t matter what kind of noise it was. It could be a smashing glass, a backfiring car, even something as normal as somebody raising their voice.
Back on the island, loud noises had meant inevitable suffering. The sound of sudden explosions and gunfire had trained the archer to react to any startling loud noise as if it would kill him. Slade had particularly emphasised the connection between loudness and danger. In Hong Kong, that training had come in handy so many times and it was engrained into his very being, keeping him alive again on the island with Reiter and then again when he worked for the Bratva in Russia.
So when he arrived home in Starling City, it wasn’t as if Oliver could just switch that part of himself off. He was always going to be alert and aware of his surroundings, on edge if there were threats present, uncomfortable if he wasn’t in control.
It was part of the reason why he’d reacted so badly when the paparazzi had cornered him after they had first gone public about Oliver having a service dog. They were all shouting at him, and he hadn’t been able to cope, his threat processing going haywire which had sent him into shutdown. It had been months since he’d arrived back now, and he still couldn’t bare crowds, or being in a room with more than half a dozen people, without that flight, flight and freeze response kicking in.
Humans were loud, and they were chaos.
Hunter, on the other hand, was calm.
The pup had immediately seemed to catch on to the fact that Oliver didn’t like loud noises, the moment that they’d gone out into the city during the archer’s trial run with the dog. Whenever they were in a noisy situation, Hunter would guide him out of it as quickly and quietly as possible and comfort him until the archer was okay again. Oliver knew that if he hadn’t had the service dog by his side during court cases, when visiting Felicity at QC or even walking down the street… he would have flipped by now. He was teetering on the edge of mental health, and Hunter was the only thread holding him back from falling straight off into the abyss.
Hunter was calm. And calm was good. Calm was pleasant, and quiet, and relaxing.
A response to your "is that a gunshot or fireworks post" . I live near an army base, an air force base and a train track. so literally every night is a question of " was that an explosion, a train, or is someone breaking into my house. Always keeps ya on your toes.
WELL. Bad news. It was actual gunfire. Police are here with police tape and all that so… so I just… hope nobody was too badly injured… I didn’t hear any screaming when it happened? ….
Is it possible that during the missing years of Red he was in a prison?
Red tells Mr. Kaplan he did not know what she looked like in the street with her head torn open and Annie’s body in front of her because “he was away”
However we do know he produced a show with Gerta in NYC in 1991 and he rescued Dembe in Nairobi in 1993. In 1994 he was busy with the deal with Sebastian, setting up a train explosion in order to implicate the CIA and the FBI who had erased Royce after they failed to protect his family when his cover as a FBI agent was blown. Later Red foiled this to protect the innocents and reached a deal with Fitch and with Carla.
So we have between the time in 1990 (beginning of 1990 if you believe my Russian Orthodox calendar) or December 1990 if you do not) and 1991 missing, and between that time and 1993 when he picks up Dembe at 14 years old chained in the basement of a Nairobi brothel. then again between 1993 and 1994 when he meets Sebastian Royce in Tangiers.
timeline clue: in 1994, when Red met Sebastian Royce in Tangiers or 1992 (if you do not believe it was a typo) is very likely he had been in a prison for a time between 6 months to 4 years.
because a beard a foot long takes that time, depending on genetics. He also smelled bad and was drunk. Not even an opium bender can last 4 years.
We have heard four instances of Red being in a prison:
a prison in Sochi, Russia for at least 3 months with
a military prison outside Ankara,
Turkey interrogated and tortured by the K section with Zeeb Pasha
seven months in Phonthong Prison , Laos
bad experience in a deep hole
we just have to match these times to the missing times:
- 1990-1991 when he produces a play in NYC with Gerta
- 1991-1993 when he picks up Dembe in Nairobi, Kenya
- 1993 to 1994 when we pick him up in Tangiers, Morocco dirty and drunk.
keep in mind Red could have been in jail after 1994.
but it seems obvious that prior to meeting Sebastian Royce he had been in a jail for a period of time.
Soldiers from the 28th Explosive Ordnance Disposal Company on Fort Bragg, react to a simulated improvised explosive device during a training event on Nov. 4, 2015. The 28th EOD Company is the only airborne EOD company in the U.S. Army.
Falcone , German Shepherd (6 y/o), MTAPD Canine Training Facility, Dutchess County, NY • Explosives Detection Canines train at a state of the art facility in Upstate NY • “Basic explosives training is 12 weeks, patrol training is 16 weeks, and we reinforce their training for 1-2 days per month thereafter. Every aspect of this facility is designed to simulate the real world. Our dogs often come from other countries and have never seen escalators, elevators, hard floors, carpets, subway grates, etc. Escalators are pretty fun, because first they’re like, ‘No no!’, but then they get used to it.”
Request: please do a blurb about Michael finding his suicidal girlfriend almost committing at night. (I read the one about self harm but please do a one on suicide)
Word Count: 877.
A/N: TRIGGER WARNING! This contains suicide/self-harm which some readers may find distressing, read with caution. Also note the start is taken from a story I am working on, it’s a personal thing.
1. Gun shot.
2. Jumping off a high building/bridge.
5. Bleeding to death.
9. Inhaling carbon monoxide.
10. Jumping under a train.
The list… The list Y/N had gone over in her head a million times. It was a list that would enable her to end her life. She had gone over every different scenario. A gun shot would be incredibly messy, plus there was no 100 per cent guarantee that she would die. She had read stories of people shooting themselves but not dying. Then there was jumping to her death, again no guarantee she would die. Drowning – some say it is euphoric even. But what exactly is euphoric about gasping for air, feeling your lungs tighten and then passing out? Well there must be something about it. Then there was suffocation, what could be better than slowly losing every ounce of breath from your body, frantically gasping for air but fighting the urge to get it? Then there is bleeding to death…too slow and messy. You would have to sit and watch the blood drain from your body before you passed out. Too long! Overdose – no guarantee it would work. Hanging again no guarantee it would work, the rope or whatever you use may not be strong enough to hold your body. Plus if she survived then what? She’d just be a ghost of her former self, and she would still be alive. Poisoning was a possibility but then then you have to fight the urge to spit out something revolting. Your taste buds are screaming at you that the substance you are taking is awful but you are telling yourself to take it. Mixed emotions and feelings… You don’t want to feel a damn thing. Inhaling carbon monoxide was too cliché or so Y/N thought. Jumping under a train what an epic and grizzly was to meet your maker. Explosion….Gruesome on epic proportions, the only problem how to make a bomb? Electrocution was another option but Y/N didn’t want to be fried chicken. Y/N contemplated all the ways to die, thinking of each possible outcome. She pondered over it many times before returning the lifeless list to the back of her draw, covering it with random pieces of paper so her parents and sister wouldn’t find the deadly list. Sometimes the list stayed in the draw untouched for weeks, but other times it was taken out more regularly.
Most people fear death but not Y/N. A lot of people fear dying young but not Y/N. She felt like the only way she could escape from what she thought was a messed up, destructive, wasteful life was to kill herself. Once dead she wouldn’t feel all the things she was feeling. Nobody would be able to hurt her; nobody would be able to make her feel small or insignificant. Nobody could do anything! She was sick of feeling all the pain she felt that was forced onto her by others. Her only solace from the pain caused by others was the pain in which she inflicted upon herself. Her best friends were her razor, her bed and her music. They seemed to be the only things that understood her, the only things that provided an ounce of comfort to her. She always felt intense euphoria when the silver razor kissed her skin. Just a few little cuts and then the crimson liquid flowed from the wounds she had inflicted upon herself. The blood was somewhat of a metaphor to her. It was the pain leaving her body, in a sick twisted metaphorical sense of the word. It was the only pain she herself could control, a pain that was not caused by others around her. It provided her with a sense of relief every time the cool metal touched her skin, and every time the blood escaped the confines of her skin she felt liberated. She felt like nothing mattered. She had left a note for her boyfriend Michael to find once he got back from the studio. Little did she know he would arrive back early.
Michael noticed the house was quiet, a little too quiet for his liking. He knew all about your self-harm issues and was trying to help you through everything, he also knew you had been having a tougher time as of late. That’s when his heart began to race as panic overwhelmed him. He rushed up the stairs, taking two at a time to get up to the second floor quicker. He opened up the bedroom door and noticed the note he didn’t even bother to read it. He noticed the bathroom door closed “Y/N” he yelled but no answer. He tried opening the door but it was locked so he kicked it down and saw you on the floor. He wrapped your arm up and called for an ambulance making sure to keep pressure on your arm. The bleeding eventually stopped but you were still taken to the hospital as a precaution. You were alive! You realised you had made a huge mistake; the heart breaking look on Michael’s face made you realise suicide wasn’t the answer. You knew you had to keep fighting.
Happy third birthday to my not-so-tiny-anymore #1 sidekick.
I love you so much, Patrick, and can’t to watch you tackle all the adventures this next year has in store for you. Thank you (again, always) for being my greatest teacher, for your endless patience with me as I (continue, forever) to figure out motherhood, for your big heart, and for your contagious enthusiasm. You’re a such a good boy and we are so proud of you.
This sort of started as another Lion theory, I was looking for clues as to who/what Lion is, and I stumbled on… whatever this is.
In Lion 2: The Movie, Lion takes Steven and Connie to Rose’s Armory.
While reading some Steven Universe theories a while back, I came upon this idea: that the weird looking robot that Steven activates after saying he “wants explosions” was actually a training bot – similar to Holopearl, but for Rose. (if anyone finds the original post, please let me know so I can source it!)
Of course, that’s all interesting enough in and of itself. But when we look at what exactly this machine does, it gets much more interesting.
More of my thoughts on subliminal clues in Steven Universe surrounding the Diamond Authority, specifically White Diamond, under the cut:
Burris, Holland, & Ronny, German Shepherds (8, 6, & 7 y/o), MTAPD Canine Training Facility, Dutchess County, NY • Explosives Detection Canines search for and alert to hidden explosives on a train. • “Everything here is geared to spec. If there’s an unintended package on the train, they’re not going to shut the power down. The dogs have to be able to work with circulating air. The air pushes the odor and circulates it all over the place, and the dog works to isolate the odor. It takes a lot of effort on their part – a dog searching for ten minutes is like you running three miles. After properly alerting to an odor, they’re immediately rewarded with their toy and play with their handler.”