striped purple

anonymous asked:

if you take aphobes out of context they sound so exaggerated like they're jokes but. no. the anger at the soap and the anger at the color purple is all real and all serious and it's like... why

Things aspecs have offended aphobes with

  • The moon
  • Purple
  • Pink stripes
  • Soap

Like… I hate the whole “______ are too sensitive!!!” thing, but……….. Holy Cow.

–Mod Mercy

Violence, Abusers, and Protest

My grandfather was a generally peaceful man. He was a gardener, an EMT, a town selectman, and an all around fantastic person. He would give a friend - or a stranger - the shirt off his back if someone needed it. He also taught me some of the most important lessons I ever learned about violence, and why it needs to exist.


When I was five, my grandfather and grandmother discovered that my rear end and lower back were covered in purple striped bruises and wheals. They asked me why, and I told them that Tom, who was at that time my stepfather, had punished me. I don’t remember what he was punishing me for, but I remember the looks on their faces. 

When my mother and stepfather arrived, my grandmother took my mother into the other room. Then my grandfather took my stepfather into the hallway. He was out of my eye line, but I saw through the crack in the door on the hinge side. He slammed my stepfather against the wall so hard that the sheet rock buckled, and told him in low terms that if he ever touched me again they would never find his body. 

I absolutely believed that he would kill my stepfather, and I also believed that someone in the world thought my safety was worth killing for. 

In the next few years, he gave me a few important tips and pointers for dealing with abusers and bullies. He taught me that if someone is bringing violence to you, give it back to them as harshly as you can so they know that the only response they get is pain. He taught me that guns are used as scare tactics, and if you aren’t willing to accept responsibility for mortally wounding someone, you should never own one. He told me that if I ever had a gun aimed at me, I should accept the possibility of being shot and rush the person, or run away in a zig-zag so they couldn’t pick me off. He taught me how to break someone’s knee, how to hold a knife, and how to tell if someone is holding a gun with intent to kill. He was absolutely right, and he was one of the most peaceful people I’ve ever met. He was never, to my knowledge, violent with anyone who didn’t threaten him or his family. Even those who had, he gave chances to, like my first stepfather. 

When I was fourteen, a friend of mine was stalked by a mutual acquaintance. I was by far younger than anyone else in the social crowd; he was in his mid twenties, and the object of his “affection” was as well. Years before we had a term for “Nice Guy” bullshit, he did it all. He showed up at her house, he noted her comings and goings, he observed who she spent time with, and claimed that her niceness toward him was a sign that they were actually in a relationship.

This came to a head at a LARP event at the old NERO Ware site. He had been following her around, and felt that I was responsible for increased pressure from our mutual friends to leave her alone. He confronted me, her, and a handful of other friends in a private room and demanded that we stop saying nasty things about him. Two of our mutual friends countered and demanded that he leave the woman he was stalking alone. 

Stalker-man threw a punch. Now, he said in the aftermath that he was aiming for the man who had confronted him, but he was looking at me when he did it. He had identified me as the agent of his problems and the person who had “turned everyone against him.” His eyes were on mine when the punch landed. He hit me hard enough to knock me clean off my feet and I slammed my head into a steel bedpost on the way down.

When I shook off the stunned confusion, I saw that two of our friends had tackled him. I learned that one had immediately grabbed him, and the other had rabbit-punched him in the face. I had a black eye around one eyebrow and inner socket, and he was bleeding from his lip. 

At that time in my life, unbeknownst to anyone in the room, I was struggling with the fact that I had been molested repeatedly by someone who my mother had recently broken up with. He was gone, but I felt conflicted and worthless and in pain. I was still struggling, but I knew in that moment that I had a friend in the world who rabbit-punched a man for hitting me, and I felt a little more whole.

Later that year, I was bullied by a girl in my school. She took special joy in tormenting me during class, in attacking me in the hallways, in spreading lies and asserting things about me that were made up. She began following me to my locker, and while I watched the clock tick down, she would wait for me to open it and try to slam my hand in it. She succeeded a few times. I attempted to talk to counselors and teachers. No one did anything. Talking to them made it worse, since they turned and talked to her and she called me a “tattle” for doing it. I followed the system, and it didn’t work. 

I remembered my friend socking someone in the face when he hit me. I recalled what my grandfather had taught me, and decided that the next time she tried, I would make sure it was the last. I slammed the door into her face, then shut her head in the base of my locker, warping the aluminum so badly that my locker no longer worked. She never bothered me again. 

Violence is always a potential answer to a problem. I believe it should be a last answer - everything my grandfather taught me before his death last year had focused on that. He hadn’t built a bully or taught me to seek out violence; he taught me how to respond to it.

I’ve heard a lot of people talk recently about how, after the recent Nazi-punching incident, we are in more danger because they will escalate. That we will now see more violence and be under more threat because of it. I reject that. We are already under threat. We are already being attacked. We are being stripped of our rights, we are seeing our loved ones and our family reduced to “barely human” or equated with monsters because they are different. 

To say that we are at more risk now than we were before a Nazi got punched in the face is to claim that abusers only hurt you if you fight back. Nazis didn’t need a reason to want to hurt people whom they have already called inhuman, base, monsters, thugs, retards, worthless, damaging to the gene pool, and worthy only of being removed from the world. They were already on board. The only difference that comes from fighting back is the intimate knowledge that we will not put up with their shit.

And I’m just fine with that.

yO YO

I’m going to take palette requests

It can basically be any character, but I’d prefer cartoon ones.

To select a color palette, just choose a column, I’ll go with three, then choose a row. For example, 3:16 would be the tan one with purple stripes.

Also please don’t request NSFW

Credit to PaperJax on Deviantart! Go check them out, they have really nice color palettes.

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Jellies come in all shapes and stripes—in this case, purple ones! Purple-striped jellies can grow quite large, with their bells reaching up to three feet wide and the tentacles extending to 25 feet!

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Sweetambs on Instagram

We were supposed to make a kite that was shaped like a bird, but not every little kid likes birds. So like every little kid crafting session it ended up being an exercise in ‘winging it.’

Sonya decides she’s going to make a cat. “A kite that’s a cat? Well, that’s certainly something different!”

“She’s a momma cat. Momma cats can fly.”

I don’t argue. 

So she chooses pink for her flying momma cat. “All momma cats are pink. That’s how you know she’s a momma cat.”

“I thought you could tell because they fly.”

“And they also have purple stripes. And red eyes. And lipgloss.”

“I’m sure you know what you’re talking about.”

She then grabs the blue marker and starts punctuating her paper with blue dots.

“Well, what are those?”

“Momma cats have stars on them. Everyone knows that.”

I have learned the following about momma cats today:

  • They have the ability to fly. 
  • They are pink with purple stripes.
  • They wear lip gloss. 
  • They have red eyes. 
  • They contain a multitude of stars. 

You know… I did not know these things, but Sonya is pretty smart. I mean, she’s five and she seems to know what she’s talking about. So I guess I’ve got no reason not to believe her. 

Welcome, neighbor! We now have black sea nettles on display with the purple-striped jellies! Though different in appearance, their shared genetic heritage make them peaceful—if contrasting—roommates!

We’re very excited to display these two species together—with overlapping ranges in the wild, this gelatinous song of ice and fire is finally being sung in our exhibit hall! It’s been years of diligent work on the part of our jelly aquarists to raise black sea nettles (Chrysaora achlyos) and purple-striped jellies (Chrysoara colorata) from scratch behind the scenes.

Lost And Then Found — Ted E. Bear’s Grand Aquarium Adventure

Late one afternoon, Security Officers Sylvia and Kevin found a lost teddy bear belonging to a visiting school. After locating the owners, they took him on a tour of the Aquarium to pass the time before he could be returned. Here is the tale of Ted E Bear’s Grand Aquarium Adventure.

Don’t worry, don’t panic. This has happened before.

Yep—I’m just here by myself, alone on the floor.
I guess things aren’t fine, since no adieu was truly bid…
Oh my goodness, my gracious, just where is my kid?!

Maybe the teacher brought everyone back to the kelp?
Nope, nobody. OK, uh—yeah, I may need a little help.

Excuse me coral, apologies, I don’t mean to vent
But perhaps you know where exactly my kid went?

I guess I’ll just finish the visit on my own, that’s not so bad.
When you’re happy as a clam there’s no reason to be sad.

*Sniff* No, this really isn’t fun to be alone with the fish!
I want to find my kid! Please, I just have this simple wish!

- Hey little buddy! Aw—are you lost my dear?
- Yes! I can’t find my kid! I’m alone forever I fear!
- What’s your name? We’re Kevin and Sylvia and we care.
- Thank you so much for your help. My name’s Ted E. Bear.

- Not to worry, helping you get unlost is part of our job!
- Really? Oh wow, oh thank you—you’re most—oh *SOB!*

There there Mr. Bear we’ll find your kid, post haste!
Now let’s make sure your visit doesn’t go to waste!

- Check it out, I helped raise this little purple-striped jelly!
- Wow, it’s really beautiful—awesome job there Tommy!
- Want to give it a shot? I’ll bet you’re great at animal care.
- Wow, I don’t think I could—I’m just a little plush bear!

- Nonsense, you got this. Here’s a scraper—it’s all in the wrist!
- How’s that?
- Perfect! Look at you—you’re a budding jelly Aquarist!

- Whoa, what’s this class—I get to feed the fishes?!
- Yep! But to pass, you’ll need to wash the dishes!

- The control room is cool!
- You’re eating it up like a glutton!
- What’s this switch here?
- DON’T TOUCH THE RED BUTTON!

- Want to help us greet our guests—Jasmine needs an intern!
- Oh wow, a job at the Aquarium—it will be so much fun to learn!

Learn… Where do I remember hearing that word… SCHOOL!
My kid! I have to get back! But… working here would be so cool!

Oh me, oh my—I really want to help conserve the great blue sea!
And… being there for my kid is the way for me to fulfill my destiny!

- OK, let’s find my school—what assistance can I show?
- Oh, we already found them.
- Really, when?!
- About 8 hours ago.

- Well, then let’s get this show on the road!
Box me up, make sure I’m safe and stowed!
- Can do Ted E! We wish you the best on your journey!
Thanks for stopping by, say hello to your school family!

Dear Sylvia and Kevin, 
I made it back to class safe and sound.
The teachers were so happy to tell the kids I had been found.
Thanks for teaching me to find my dreams and in my heart carry ‘em.
Much love from your Beary-best friend, Ted- E, to the Monterey Bay Aquarium!

Thanks so much to Ms. Bizon’s class and the Sea Breeze School in Foster City for letting us host Ted E for the day—albeit accidentally! We hope to sea him again soon!

Costuming F*#kery

Guys guys guys guys guys!!! (Tinfoil Hattery below!)

I just picked up the Blu Ray for Season 4 and I was watching some of the extras at the end of disk 2. Specifically, I was watching Mark’s video diary, Final Scenes.

Look at what he is wearing in this video diary!! 

(Sorry for the poor quality, my good TV is in the shop.)

That is a grey suit. White stripe. PURPLE TIE. I know it’s hard to tell in these photos, but it’s the purple tie from TAB!! And the same exact suit.

The tie.

The striped pants.


He’s wearing it again here, a few minutes later in the video diary, when he shows us Eurus’s cell.

 He also does a lovely Hannibal Lecter impression here. Can you believe this guy?? 


The thing is, this exact suit and tie combo does not appear anywhere in TFP, or anywhere else in the season. (I looked. Maybe I missed it, if anyone cares to look.)

He’s wearing the suit in the TFP scene in his home, but the tie is different. It’s maroon. (hard to tell by the photo, but check it out yourself if you like.)


So why is he wearing the TAB suit/tie on set for Season 4??

  • Reasonable explanation or conspiracy?
  • Did they merely change ties or did they re-shoot some previous scenes where he was wearing that suit and tie?

Tagging tinfoil hatters.

@marathecactupus@k-s-morgan@the-7-percent-solution@sherlock-overflow-error@sherlockedmeta@gingerhermit@mycroftseyebrow@averybritishbumblebee@inevitably-johnlocked@just-sort-of-happened@melody-clark@hnm22705

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From Instagram: samanthakangel frank iero and the patience | u street music hall | 7.21.17

Frank Iero and The Patience at The U Street Music Hall, Washington D.C. - July 21st, 2017

Lace caught in suspense,
A striped bell rings deep purple:
C. colorata.


The purple striped jelly Chrysaora colorata continues to be one of the most stunning animals we have on display—and since we still don’t know where their polyps live in the wild, all of these beauties you’ll see on display are home-grown by our jelly aquarists! Thanks so much to guest Catherine Wallin for the beautiful photo!

you know you’re on my mind

This is part 1/? of a human AU I’ve been wanting to write for AGES in which Derek and Stiles are long-distance friends/pen pals. Derek lives in California and Stiles lives in Poland. Features brief past Stiles/Malia (Derek and Malia aren’t related in this AU). Idk how long this fic could eventually get; I’m hoping to just work on it as I get the time/inspiration. 

 Title from “Mind Over Matter” by Young the Giant because that song always makes me think of LDRs. 

EDIT: This WIP is now also up on AO3 here.

*

If there’s one thing Derek’s learned in life, it’s that crushing on someone who lives on an entire other fucking continent is probably a bad idea.

He’s got dozens of photos of Stiles saved to his phone, and a whole box of letters from Stiles, and years’ worth of emails from Stiles, and a whole wall of postcards from Stiles pinned up on the wall over his bed, and none of it is enough.

He wants to do things to Stiles, okay, things besides just watch movies together in two different time zones or talk on skype.

…which… is kind of a new feeling.

Derek didn’t even know he liked guys until three years ago, freshman year of high school, when Stiles came home from a party raving about this girl he’d kissed, Malia something-or-other, and how Malia’s hair was so soft, and how Malia had the prettiest brown eyes and the best laugh, and—and suddenly Derek wanted to throw his computer against the wall.

“I have to go,” he’d snapped, and slammed his laptop shut and thrown on some jogging clothes.

He was five miles deep into the Preserve before it really sank in, not just the jealousy but the absurdity of the jealousy. He and Stiles had never even met, technically. They were probably never going to live in the same country. There was no logical reason for them not to date other people. Especially given that Stiles might not even like guys, or like him.

Still, he was secretly, guiltily, viciously satisfied when Stiles and Malia broke up barely two weeks later.

And since then the crush has gotten, if anything, worse.

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