So lemme tell y'all a story:

I was in 10th grade honours English. I loved my teacher - she was super cool, but didn’t take any shit from anyone. During our time with her, she was going through a rough divorce.

Our teacher had developed this system: if we were good, she’d add “time” to our class, with each “time” being worth ten seconds, so we had to work hard. That meaning, she would give us a free period after we’d built up the exact time that a period extended to be. It was an earned privilege, and we always did our best to try and obtain it. Hell, playing puzzle games and reading was way more fun than a test or worksheet!

We were reading Animal Farm, a book my mom had given to me when I was ten bc she knew I loved to read and enjoyed anything that was thought-provoking. I’d read it then, and again later in my parochial middle school. Living in a big city, public schools aren’t well-funded, and I was lucky to have all my close family scrape together cash for a good education. Needless to say, I was rather familiar with the book.

Now back to the system! Our teacher had implemented a rule that every morning (she taught my first period class) we wood stand up and recite the commandments of animalism. We’d all try our hardest to do it perfectly, lest “time” be taken off our class. But one morning, she was… cold.

My classmates who’d recited before me were all told to sit down and stop reciting, because they were “wrong.” Knowing that, I was confused, as was everyone else. Yet, we all kept trying the same thing. She let the first few people finish. Then, she let people get partially through before she’d utter, “wrong” or something of the sort and deduct our hard-earned time.

It finally got to me; it was my turn. I stood up and started, and was immediately shut down by her. I was frustrated, to say the least. I replied after a second and told her that I was, indeed, right. She muttered for me to sit down. I refused, and by now she’d taken off twenty seconds. Everyone groaned, but I continued to disobey. Eventually, my classmates started telling me to just stop and it turned into yelling at me once I’d lost our hard-earned twenty minutes (meaning we had been halfway to a free period) as I continued to argue. Once we were in the negatives, people were literally yelling obscenities at me. They even yelled at her, blaming her divorce and period. Gross behaivour, mind you.

I didn’t stop.

The teacher said that she was going to call security and have me removed. I replied that it was a-okay with me to do so. I promptly walk out of the room and she followed up by telling me to wait in the hallway. I’d intended to walk to the office myself, but obliged figuring it was no matter to me.

I was in the hallway for about a minute before she rushed out and gently grabbed me by the shoulders. I was rightly confused. She gasped, and stammered out that she had never imagined it would happen. Why was she suddenly not being so ruthless? Why was she flabbergasted? Well, apparently what she’d “wanted” was for us to all fail. That it was a lesson, and she’d have given back the “time” she had removed. It was all about “knowing” what was coming, and how fascism meant that the rules could change at any time, without your knowledge and consent, but you could still be punished for it. She told me that she’d called security, and told them if they saw me in the hall during that call, to excuse me. Nobody had done that before. Apparently, throughout her decades of teaching, not one student had done that. They had all caved and sat down eventually.

You can be that person. In something that matters to us all. It’s not fun, but when has fighting for what’s right ever been easy?

Odette’s First Composition

So as we’ve previously mentioned, Viktor decides to keep on his career with coaching after Yuuri’s retirement. First it’s Yurio (who was in need of a coach after Yakov himself finally retires), but it eventually becomes more. His star students are always the two Yuris’ and Mirai though. 

Due to this the case often is that Viktor can do whatever he wants during the summer (this family have the best vacations together) but the winter often gets pretty busy and involves a lot of travelling. 

This doesn’t really phase Yuuri, Misha, and Mirai. They’re all professional athletes. Travelling all the time is just part of the drill. 

One person who does not like this drill, however, is Odette. She is one of those children who feels somewhat uncomfortable when her entire family is not at home for an extended period of time. It’s become some kind of a tradition that if Viktor has a night or early morning flight, he will put Odette to bed, even when she’s old enough to herself. 

Odette isn’t always the best at talking about her feelings, so she expresses it in this case by cuddling up to Viktor as close as she possibly can. The octopus-like cuddles are probably the one thing she does get from her Papa. Every time this happens, Odette will fall asleep to Viktor humming some made up tune. 

In one instance, Viktor has to be away for two weeks due to competitions in quick succession. It’s the longest Odette has ever gone without seeing her Papa. Whilst she’s definitely closer to Yuuri most of the time, there’s still something missing. So, when she’s not at school that week, Odette spends most of her time in her room experimenting on her piano. 

Yuuri’s actually pretty surprised when Odette asks if they can pick Viktor up from Pulkovo Airport. It’s not something they’d usually do just because these trips happen quite a lot. However, it’s also been the longest time in a while for Yuuri, Misha, and Mirai too. They’ve seen him on TV of course and Skype but it’s just not the same. There’s no argument. 

So Yuuri plus three kids plus their dog Pontik are waiting in their airport mid-afternoon. Surprisingly, it’s Odette who spots him first, and she nearly knocks Viktor to his feet with the force of her hug. He’s pretty surprised at this, because Odette is usually so shy and timid. Viktor really is knocked over once Misha and Mirai have also caught wind of this, and at 16 and 14, they’re a lot heavier than their little sister. The kids are so happy to see him that they don’t even react to their parents kissing 

Once they’re home, Yuuri starts making katsudon, though Viktor does mutter that technically he wasnt the one who actually won the competition. 

Whilst they’re waiting, Odette shyly tugs Viktor into her bedroom and sits at her piano. Viktor feels his heart pump because Odette rarely lets anybody watch her play piano, even Yuuri. It takes him a moment, but he recognises it as the tune he hums to her sometimes. He nearly finds himself crying, especially with the beauty that Odette plays with. (Note: I was imagining this piece

Yuuri comes in to announce that dinner is ready, to find the two hugging each other. He figures dinner can wait another five minutes. 

Astronaut Jeanette Epps to become first African-American space station crew member

  • Astronaut Jeanette Epps is gearing up to make history.
  • NASA announced Wednesday that Epps would be assigned to missions aboard the International Space Station in 2018
  • That makes her the space station’s soon-to-be first African-American crew member. The journey will be Epps’ first flight into space.
  • Epps will be the first African-American astronaut to live and work on the ISS — not a shuttle — for an extended period of time.
  • According to her NASA profile, Epps earned a Bachelor’s degree in physics from LeMoyne College in 1992. 
  • She completed a Master’s of science in 1994 and doctorate in aerospace engineering 2000, both from the University of Maryland. 
  • In 2002, Epps joined the CIA and worked as a technical intelligence officer for seven years. Read more

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The NTs driving me fucking crazy

ENTP: *terrified of intimacy*
ENTP: *gets scared when someone shows the slightest bit of genuine affection*
ENTP: *cuts off contact for one week*
INFP: Hey, I owe you an apology, sorry for cornering you
ENTP: Ah that’s fine I wasn’t upset anyway : )))))))

INTJ: We haven’t seen each other in a while, do you not have time for me anymore
INFP: No, I’m working my ass off and I’m tired of always visiting you, why don’t you come ov-
INTJ: Lmfao okay bye

ENTJ: I don’t know if I can trust you. I can’t really trust anyone, people always seem to betray me
INFP: Yeah, it’s better to only trust yourself

INTP: *simply disappears for extended periods of time only to randomly reappear as if nothing happened*

life keeps on crashing

title: life keeps on crashing
relationship: pike & vax
words: 2.8k
warnings: none
summary: faith finds pike in her family shrine and finds vax years later in a tomb.
notes: hey @americankimchi B) i heard you like pike and vax’s friendship B)))

There are many years when Pike’s hands are soft; they’re kept unmarked by her years of peaceful worship. She works by Wilhand’s side, cleaning the shrine and taking care of simple offerings to Sarenrae. She scrubs and dusts but never enough to leave marks of her work.

For many years, Pike doesn’t hear what Wilhand hears. She watches him as she cleans, watches as he bows his head and clasps his holy symbol and murmurs prayers so quiet that she can’t make the words out. Sometimes he laughs out of nowhere, startling her from her work, and she wonders what sort of jokes a goddess can tell.

She asks him that question one day as they’re eating, and Wilhand simply chuckles. “Plenty of jokes. It’s like talking to an old friend, dumpling.”

“Oh,” she says, as if that makes her understand. It doesn’t.


anyone that says they can keep their glasses completely clean for an extended period of time is a liar. just by existing and being alive you’ll get ‘em dirty. you’ll spend ten minutes extensively cleaning those things only to put ‘em back on and realize that somehow, some way, they have a fucking smudge on one of the lenses. you don’t know how. you don’t know when. you don’t know why

Full offense, but if you abandon someone with bpd/dpd for no reason, you’re an asshole.

if you vanish on someone with bpd/dpd for an extended period of time, then come back and expect everything to be okay with no apology or explanation, you’re an asshole.

if you GET MAD and yell at someone with bpd/dpd for being upset you left, YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE.

if you think that people with bpd/dpd are abusive and/or “too much to handle” and/or inherently bad people, you. are. an. asshole.

This has been a PSA

While I need my own love, support and time I also realize that I want others and there’s nothing wrong in that.
What’s wrong is letting toxic people rot your happiness for extended periods of time even after realizing what they are truly doing to you and your soul.
—  creatingnikki 
Caught by the Sea

AN: AGAIN. THIS IS NSFW. This is for @illyriantremors , and I promised I’d write this for her like two weeks ago and I kept procrastinating LOL. But this ended up being SUPER FLUFFY and is based on a headcanon that Feyre and Rhysand kind of have a thing for public sex? And they did it in the Summer Court and got caught and now have to be reminded every time they visit NOT TO GO TOO CRAZY. So here’s some fluffy smut wherein Tarquin catches them having sex. Enjoy!!!

Feyre pursed her lips as she gazed at the palace of the Summer Court, something deep within her aching at the thought of being away from home for an extended period of time. She hadn’t left the Night Court for more than a few hours at a time since she’d returned from the war with Hybern, since she’d brought the Spring Court to its knees.

At least she had Rhys with her.

Not that they could do anything, she knew. Not with their relationship with Tarquin being so newly healed, so precarious. They’d been invited to the Summer Court for three days as a gesture of goodwill—three days of meetings and a parade and a festival celebrating the end of the war. She and Rhys could make it three days. She’d been able to go weeks without touching Isaac Hale. Surely, they both had enough self-control to make it three measly days.

Rhys tapped on the wall of her mind, the essence of him dragging a single finger across her barriers, knowing exactly how and where to press to beckon memories of black silk sheets and silver handcuffs into her mind. She dropped the wall immediately.

You seem on edge.

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Christmas is a time to spend with loved ones but a tweet will have to suffice - Phan One Shot

Summary: Dan and Phil go home to their respective families for Christmas but they suddenly become very active on Twitter, tweeting about random things. Only Dan and Phil are able to read between the lines within every tweet.

Word count: 7.7k

Genre: Holiday fluff

Warnings: Mention of family not accepting you, missing your loved one.

Throughout the story are attached real tweets by Dan and Phil. 

Christmas 2016

When you’re used to be together almost every moment of every day it feels odd to be apart for extended periods of time. Dan and Phil had completely intertwined their lives together, both on a professional and personal level. They never went a day without talking and both of them would feel an odd ache by just being apart from a few hours.

Keep reading

cymbals appreciation post

because we’re not real instruments or that “anyone can play the cymbals”

also because we’re the only alive cymbal line in my school district. 

day one on the job? i couldn’t raise my arms after. cymbals aren’t light to the extent of holding them up for extended periods of time and crashing and such. if you don’t believe me, try doing scarecrows. not fun. mine weigh about 5 pounds each, but when you’re holding hi-hats for snares, it’s 10 pounds on one hand. do this while marching in time, backwards in parades. some cymbals weigh more, too, and they make them look so light. 

look at their toned arms, and the insane visuals they do. 

Originally posted by bottomoftheline

going along with “anyone can play the cymbals, its just like banging pots and pans together” but not. it isn’t. we tried teaching multiple people who were like “cymbals are so easy” the cadence with visuals and they couldn’t after a minute. 

ok but everyone in cymbal line has huge bruises on their arm and on their stomachs because they accidentally pinch themselves crashing, doing hi-hat snaps, and sliding. i have some near my underarm area from choking crashes too.

cymbals are amazing instruments. they are just as important as any other instrument in pit, drum line, and the band.

(^ hella rad video scv cymbal line video and insane visuals ^)

trveroman  asked:

I saw your post on improvised weaponry, and I wanted to ask: what about a fire axe? How big/strong would a character need to be to wield something like that effectively?

You’d need to be able to lift about five pounds.

The problem isn’t the weight, it’s being able to balance it and perform repetitive/continuous motions over an extended period of time. This is where the “strength” and “size” misnomers come in for a lot of people.

The kind of physical activity required is like being able to do a bunch of pushups or run laps around a track. It’s not a strongman’s one time five hundred pound lift.

Your character can be any size, be any shape, and weigh anything.

The skills they need fall more in line with being able to swing the axe multiple times, balance for its weight, swing it fast enough to hit their target, and recover (get themselves into a ready position so they can strike again) quickly.

The recovery is the key bit because recovery is where the openings are and where most of the critical mistakes happen.

90% of the time, the moments when your character is going to get hit will happen in the moments preceding their strike (their windup) or in the moments after it doesn’t land/misses/connects poorly. “Recover” is one of the most difficult concepts for the inexperienced fighter to grasp and most of them don’t do it, they don’t reset their defenses to ready for the next strike or block an incoming attack. It is difficult to keep up a continuous assault if your unfamiliar with the concept or the weapon in hand.

For example: the trick with using a fire axe as a weapon is to swing it in a figure eight pattern, and keep it moving. This allows the weapon to move faster via its own weight and reduces the strain on the arms. Once it starts moving, you ensure that nothing can stop it except for an incoming body. The continuous motion also creates a solid, intimidating defense.

The fire axe is in a category similar to a machete. It’s the cousin of a real weapon and can act as a weapon when necessary much more easily than trying to transition a dinner plate into a weapon to beat people with. Hammers, sledge hammers, culinary knives, dinner knives, etc, are in that same category.

They aren’t “improvised” in the same way a beer bottle or a garbage can lid is, they’re much closer to being weapons and make the transition fairly easily. Call them second-cousins. They’re not as suited for the situation as the medieval weapons designed for war, but they’ll work in a pinch.

However, unless they have a background in HEMA, most people who pick up a fire axe are going to use it the way they think an axe should be used. They aren’t going to think about figure eight patterns, attacks on alternate angles, spinning defenses, and rolling strikes. They’re going to use it the traditional way, like a lumberjack or a fireman trying to break down a door or split some wood. (Which works perfectly well when dealing with stationary objects that can’t fight back.)

This is going to be where the problems of the axe occur. While the overhand is a very powerful strike, there’s a reason why it was generally performed in conjunction with a shield.

The overhand/overhead motion creates huge openings in the defense both coming and going, it’s also repetitive and easily adapted to. When you bring your arms up, you expose your entire torso. When the arms come down, your head is now in an easily reachable range. The time which it takes to lift the axe back into position and bring it down are where the openings are.

For most people, axe strikes are also stationary.

What the axe has in its favor is that it is a recognizable weapon and also terrifying. The axe has been the favored weapon of Hollywood horror monsters, it’s recognizable for what it can do, and person threatened with it will know that they are being threatened with a weapon. 

This isn’t like a character standing around with a bottle of hairspray and a lighter while pointing it at their aggressor, a beer bottle, or just a can of spray paint.

Walking out with an axe is like walking out with a knife, or even a sword. It may seem weird for the situation, but their opponent is going to what it means, what it is, and what it can (potentially) do.

While the weapon can’t fight your battles for you, intimidation and headgames are part of warfare. If your character wants to intimidate an attacker or an enemy, then the fire axe is going to be a lot more useful than the frying pan or the dinner plate.

Can any character pick up a fire axe and go to town?


If you find yourself asking the question of “Can X do Y?” when it comes to combat. The answer is probably going to be yes, especially if it involves size, weight, height, or any of those statements about sex, gender, and body type.

Much as Hollywood and society at large want us to believe that the only ones capable of combat are six foot tall men between 180 to 225 pounds, life doesn’t work like that.

Physical activity is as much a matter of mind as it is body. You can learn to adjust to your body, condition your body, and adapt your body to the technique. It doesn’t matter who your are or your size, if you try you can learn to do the thing. If you decide to give up because of some arbitrary reason, then you won’t.

Most of us give up inside our own heads before we try.

And the only combat metric that matters is: did you live?

After that, everything is gravy.

When working with fiction, we create a simulacrum of real life. The point is to stick in enough “real life” bits to sell the audience on the suspension of disbelief.

What matters most is that you asked the question.


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In a nearly-empty theme park right at closing time?

Perfect opportunity to stand perfectly still and stare at nothing in particular for extended periods of time.

“Why, honey, a wall with some bushes! How romantic!”

“Look, son! This is the very same gazebo I stared at for hours on end when I was your age.”