stop the church

hey so i know i dont usually post about romanian things but i need to say this

so last night (yes, in the middle of the fucking night, like the filthy thieves they are) the romanian government passed a law that, basically, makes corruption legal (if its under 45k euros, which is a LOT) AND they’re going to let all the (few) people who (they barely) arrested for this out of prison… 

i know this isnt as important to america as trump, but this is HUGE to us. there were (as far as i know) 90 thousand people protesting last night (the last time there were protests this big was in 1989 when communism fell, just to give you a perspective) and there are going to be even more today

this country has had problems with corruption since the dawn of time but i dont reckon it ever being made LEGAL. i just figured id bring some awareness to this…

here and here are two sources

So uh if you don’t share a certain headcanon, that’s fine. That’s why it’s a headcanon. Not everybody will share it.

But if you’re gonna tell somebody they can’t headcanon a character as ace or gay or bi because you personally don’t like it, and if you’re gonna attack somebody for that, that’s not fine. 

hey guys I had a glass of wine and now I have two baptist jokes for you

joke 1:

Why are Baptists so against premarital sex? 

Because it might lead to dancing.

joke 2:

So a man dies and goes to Heaven. The angel that greeted him was very nice and gave him a tour. Eventually, they came to a long hallway full of lots of doors. The angel opened the first door and it was full of people having a loud, raucous party with lots of booze.

“Those are the Lutherans,” the angel said, and took the man further.

The angel opened the second door and it was another huge party, people just carrying on and having a great time with their friends and families.

“Those are the Catholics,” the angel said, and took the man further.

The angel paused shortly before the third door. “You’ll have to be very, very quiet. Don’t make a sound.” So they tiptoed to the third door, and when the angel opened it, it was full of very quiet people kneeling in prayer.

“Those are the Baptists,” the angel whispered. “They think they’re the only ones here.”

Highlights from the 1st session of my D&D campaign

(during character creation)
Mum: I’m Trump-Tinyhands, a famous half-orc ballerina.

(while trying to enter a cursed church) D
M: You (pixie character) enter the church, however, the second you enter you get distracted by a bright light, which you then fly towards blindly and continue to fly into it.
Dylan, our Pixie: IT’S SO BRIGHT AND SHINY

(in a bar)
Trump-Tinyhands: Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink! Me want drink! Drink! Drink!
Dylan: Erm yes I think we might need a few more dozen pints for our friend over here, he’s not drunk enough.

(still in the bar)
M'riqa, our Khajiit thief, talking to the barmaid: Hey, I’ve seen many pussies in my time, but if I pet you right will your purr?
Barmaid: I will beat the shit out of you if you talk to me like that again.
M'riqa: *sprints right out of the bar*
Dylan: Damnit, come back here!

(going back to the cursed church)
DM: Maybe Dylan should stop trying to enter the church. He’s a Loki-worshipper and this is the Church of The God of Mild Frostbite and That Very Annoying Feeling You Get After You Warm Your Hands Up After Being In The Cold That Makes Your Fingers Feel Like They’re Burning
Trump-Tinyhands OOC: If that’s the God’s name, I can’t imagine just how long the sermons are.

(M'riqa spotted something pretty in the church and wants to steal it)
M'riqa: I enter the church!
DM: You try to enter the church, but it appears that you cannot. The curse on the church does not know what to do with you, so it simply becomes an invisible wall.
Trump-Tinyhands: I think something’s going on with this church.
Dylan: *sarcastically* I never would have thought of that!

(40 minutes into figuring out the church)
M'riqa OOC: Does anybody have Detect Magic?
Dylan OOC: Hell yeah I do!
M'riqa OOC: Then go do it you winged bastard.
Dylan: I cast Detect Magic on the church doorway.
DM: You cast Detect Magic on the doorway. It seems that only followers of the God of Mild Fristbite and all that stuff can pass through the doorway.
Dylan: I can’t, I’m Loki’s priest.
Half-orc: What’s a priest? (too stupid to know what a god is)
Dylan: It’s down to you, M'riqa.
M'riqa: … I may or may not have sold my soul and devoted my life to Nocturnal. Is that a problem?

M'riqa: Nocturnal, may I stray from your path for a moment while I infiltrate this church?
DM: You poke yourself in the eye. That’s a no.
M'riqa: Please? Come on, I’ll steal something to add to the glory of the Guild!
DM: You sock yourself right in the nose. You are bleeding.
M'riqa: Pretty please?? I’ll serve you in the afterlife for twice as long!
DM: You stamp on your own foot.
M'riqa: Before I go any further, if I ask one more time, will I or will I not keep my tail?
DM: Nocturnal remains smugly silent.
M'riqa: If someone had told me that this is the sort of thing that happens when you give yourself to a god, then I may have reconsidered my choice.


Take me to Church by Hozier makes me think of kawoshin..

Every story ever told really happened. Stories are where memories go when they’re forgotten.

reblogs okay | don’t repost | don’t trace

When I was young, I had a tree house and in order to get to the top of it, me and my sister had to climb up a satin Christmas ribbon. One day, on my way up the ribbon snapped and I fell 15 feet on to a fire pit. I broke my ribs and never told anyone except my mother. Last year I stopped into a Unitarian church and and a man came up to me out of the blue and told me he was a clairvoyant and that the reason why I had a shallow, breathy voice was because I had fallen out of a tree house 15 years ago. I still can’t get over how strange it is that he knew that.
—  Lana Del Rey on how she got her “breathy” voice 

anonymous asked:

tell me all your woes

- the way dean would grab onto castiel’s coat a little more when sam says “dean, we gotta let him go”.
- how he’ll fix cas’ tie with shaking fingers and do his hair “just one last time”.
- his face when he really has to say goodbye to cas
- and then the way dean is turning into his stone “i don’t care about anything i’m fine” self, pushing away all the pain and heartbreak and guilt and missing
- how sam tries to talk but dean just shakes his head and turns away; sam will see him in cas’ old room later at night, sitting on the bed with his face in his hands, muttering softly
- they stop at almost every church, dean goes inside and comes back later; his eyes are red sometimes but sam doesn’t say anything
- dean just being an ass about all other things, solving cases without passion and being bitter about finding mary
- but he seems fine by times, his mask so strong that he can take away all the pain that is behind, and it scares sam because he wonders how much is lying behind there.
- he finds out one day, when they see a man with black hair and a long beige coat and dean has already yelled “cas!” before they realize it isn’t him and dean doesn’t look at sam or says a word
- sam breaks the silence when they’re in the bunker; dean snaps first, but when sam says that “fighting won’t make it easier”, dean’s mask falls and he crumbles, the pain comes out into waves of realization and cropped up emotion and dean clinges onto sam until he’s tired and empty and all that comes out are dry, rough sobs
- dean is in his room after talking for hours, finally, and sam will slip into cas’ room, he touches the desk and the bed and opens the closet to find no clothes in there and it’s so typically cas that sam laughs, painfully, but he looks at the bed and sits down and folding his hands together he presses his thumbs against his forehead
-with tears rolling down his cheeks, he whispers “hey cas, i uh… i just wanted to say- i- i miss you too.”