them-rag

“Everyone has a mourning ground, a place where the course of life turned, changed, altered, or disappeared forever. It could be a house, a park, or just a place on the pavement where the wrong words were said, the worst choice made, or fateful action taken. Our spirits are linked to these places forever and when our sorrow’s deep enough we return to them again and again to stand in our pain, reliving our memory, mumbling clumsy prayers that we might be offered a chance to change what happened, bend time so we could choose again. But it never happens. The shadowed ones just keep on doing that after death, returning to those places where their wounds are buried, hoping against hope that something in the walls or ground might emerge to save them. Mourning grounds. We all have them and it’s only in learning how to live with our hurts while we’re here that we’re set free of them.”

Richard Wagamese, from Ragged Company (Doubleday Canada, 2008)

anonymous asked:

Junkrat with a s/o that is 5'1 (that is my curse I swear)

Yooo I’m 5'1 as well so join the club!! 👉🏻😎👉🏻

- sometimes he gets giddy at how small they are in comparison to him and just want to hug and squeeze them!

- he likes to bend over them and drape his arms on their shoulders/around their neck while he nuzzles into them

- when relaxing together he likes to pull them into is lap and just engulf them with his long torso and arms holding them close to him

- he likes to compare hand sizes and everything and laughs loving everything about his s/o and how they are small, small lips, small hands, small fingers, just anything and everything even if some features aren’t small he loves them

- will pick them up like a rag doll just carrying them around either on his back, shoulder, arms, even just lugging them around under one of his arms because he is strong💫

- but since they are so short he is a bit more protective of them “Oi come on now I just worry love? What if a big guy like Reinhardt doesn’t see ya mate you would be toast!” And if his s/o were to argue that Torbjörn who is shorter then they are or lucio who is around the same height are all fine and also Roadhog is a pretty big guy and he has never really even bumped into them but he would brush it all off “yeah yeah well That short stack is hard to miss trust me but anyone could bump into ya mate! Also Roadie may be a big lug but he keeps to himself! Reinhardt is always swiggin that friggin metal hammer around and what if he hit ya with it!” It would be a never ending battle with him so trust me it’s a wasted effort arguing

- if he felt like anyone was going to hurt them or bump into them and knock them over he would shout “Oi watch it!” Before placing his hands on his s/o’s shoulders pulling them away giving the person a look

- he absolutely loves giving them some of his clothes to wear he can’t handle how his shirts are like a dress on them he just gets so goofy piling them up on his lap hugging them not being able to deal with how much he loves them

Dear new adults: buy some of those old-ass paper coffee filters

Use them instead of rags or paper towel when you clean your glass

Marvel at how that shit looks professionally cleaned and streakless and never go back

Bureaucratic Bungle (RWBY AU Snippet)

“You!” Weiss, goddess of bureaucrats and mega corporations appeared in a blaze of divine glory and stomped toward Death. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Death stopped eating her cookie and took a sip of her milk before deigning to reply. The goddess of bureaucrats and mega corporations was feared throughout the divine world for her, well, complete and utter mastery of bureaucracy and corporate skulduggery. She, however, was Death. The only two constants in life were death and taxes, and even tax collectors couldn’t get away from her.

“Yes, Weiss?”

Weiss didn’t both to reply. Instead, she grabbed Death by the scruff of her blood-red cloak and lifted her into the air. “What are you doing?”

Death smiled sunnily. Most people would have been threatened by a goddess shaking them around like a rag doll. Death was no mere goddess. She was a conceptual entity, the living incarnation of a primordial concept as old as Creation itself. There were, maybe, half a dozen other gods who could fight her on anything even approaching equal terms. Weiss was not one them, but Death decided to humour her anyway. Weiss was always sexiest when she was mad.

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t go on holiday!” Weiss wailed. “Do you have any idea what sort of chaos you’re causing in the mortal world? I’m receiving thousands of prayers a millisecond from bureaucrats who have no idea how to handle people who aren’t dying!” Weiss snarled. “And don’t even get me started on the poor bureaucrats who’ve been trying to come up with the appropriate forms for people who should be dead but aren’t. What exactly are we supposed to call them?”

“Technically,” Ruby said, “I’m entitled to a certain amount of holiday each aeon.” She raised one hand and a book appeared. “I mean… that’s what it says here, right?” She opened the book to the appropriate page and held it up, so Weiss could see it. “And it’s not like this book could be mistaken since you were the one who wrote it, Weiss. Unless, of course, you made a mistake.”

Weiss’s eye twitched. “I don’t make mistakes.” She dropped Death and grabbed the book. “Let me see that.” A minute later she rounded on Death. “You’re supposed to ensure that essential deaths are still taken care of.”

“And they are being taken care of,” Death replied. “All those who are suffering and for whom death would be a release are indeed still being taken to my realm. You can check if you like, but we both know I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Death took her responsibilities very seriously, and she wasn’t about to let people for whom death would be a positive suffer unnecessarily. “As for the others, I’m entitled to a holiday of no longer than three days each aeon. If things get really bad, you’re always welcome to borrow my scythe and handle things yourself.”

Weiss recoiled. “I’d rather not.”

Death giggled. Weiss could be so funny sometimes. “Weiss, you’re not going to die just because you touch my scythe. I am Death. It’s my power that kills things, not my scythe’s. Crescent Rose is simply a physical manifestation of that side of my powers that I use to make my life easier.” She paused. “Plus giant scythes are cool.”

“Ruby…” Weiss murmured, using Death’s name. “I am not going to touch Crescent Rose. That would be… like touching you.”

“Weiss, unless my memory is mistake - which it isn’t since I’m Death and Death never forgets - I’m fairly sure that you have touched me in the past, like, a lot.” Death snickered at Weiss’s blush. “But, look, it’s already been almost two days. My holiday is almost done. I promise I’ll work extra hard to get everything under control once it’s done.”

Weiss nodded firmly. “You’d better. You might be Death, but it’s bureaucrats and mega corporations who have to handle the mess you leave behind.” She turned to leave and then stopped. “Oh, and Nora is not happy. She’s been smiting people all day and none of them are actually dying.”

Death chuckled. “I’d lend her my scythe, but there might not be any people left in a day or two.”

“Nora can be overenthusiastic.” Weiss scowled. “She’s one of the only people who creates more paperwork than you. Do you know how long it took some of my favourite bureaucrats to handle the paperwork after she sank that damn island of blasphemers.”

“You mean Atlantis?” Death asked.

“Yes, Atlantis. It’s been thousands of years, and we’re still cleaning up the mess.”

Death shrugged. “Well, you can’t blame me for that one although everybody sort of does anyway. Remember that plague? They called it the Black Death, as if I was the one who came up with it? Oh no, that was all Salem.” She tilted her head to one side. “Hey, Weiss, you haven’t taken a break in a while have you?”

Weiss frowned. “I’m the goddess of bureaucrats and mega corporations. Breaks aren’t my style.”

Ruby darted forward and gleefully grabbed Weiss’s wrist. “Come on, then. We’re spending the last day of my holiday together!”

claras-wintersoldier  asked:

Hi I love all your WinterWitch fics and was curious what is it about these two that inspired you (cause I lowkey ship them too)

Hmm.  

Well. I can’t really pinpoint one thing…I just know that I woke up one day and was complete trash for the pairing.

I think it has a lot to do with how good they’d be for each other.  How neither of them would be scared of the other.  How they could comfort each other.  How they could commiserate.  How well they’d understand the pain the other has.  The guilt.  How they could make each other laugh.  How both of them need to laugh so much.  How both of them need the loving touch of another human being who doesn’t want something from them.  They have ragged edges that fit together.  Like jigsaw puzzle pieces.  Or two halves of a ripped sheet of paper.  

They’re kindred spirits, as Anne Shirley would say.  ;)     

The naming of the sand shark is hilariously bad. I mean in America it’s called a sand tiger shark despite not being a tiger shark or even tiger-patterned (they get spotty sometimes, but not stripey), and in Australia it’s called a grey nurse shark even though it’s not a nurse shark and most sharks are grey anyway. Even the name sand shark is kind of useless because lots of sharks swim near the ocean floor.

South Africa is the only country with a decent name for sand sharks. We call them ragged-tooth sharks (which actually describes their distinctive teeth quite well), and they have the cute nickname “raggies” here

waywardjackanapes  asked:

Funny story. I was travelling with Boone and we were climbing up a canyon since I always find short cuts by hopping around. Getting on a flat area, a fucking shit ton of Nightstalkers come sprinting at us. I side step out of the way since those assholes are the bane of my existence but poor, poor Boone gets mauled. As I was running away, backwards, I see him rag doll them flip off the canyon like a fucking gymnast. I actually yelled, "NO! BOONE!"

Fucking Boone.

  • Granny Rags:Cook them! Put them in the flaming soup to find a little birdie make! Birthdays? I know the present! Drop the nice fellows at the door a few hellos and mottle with the trognel...
  • Corvo:*goes and kills everything*
  • Granny Rags:What a nice young boy, have a cookie. When I was young and beautiful there were so many gentleman callers, my my......
  • Corvo:*goes to the Outsider's shrine*
  • Outsider:Yeah, she doesn't make much sense to me, either.

anonymous asked:

Had a new chain installed after a year of bad riding. New chain wore out apparently in a just a few months...100% Should I replace a chain before it hits 100? My cassette was also to blame apparently. Had them replaced with new ones. Feels better. I don't cross chain btw.

100miles on a chain? Sounds NOT legit lol.

I keep my chains really clean by using a rag on them before they get gritty and I use Squirt lube (not sponsored) because it is the most friendly to drive trains, eco and fastest.

While I may have accidentally conveyed the opposite before, let me be perfectly clear on this:

As annoyed as I may be with certain maladaptive or overly acid-tongued/bridge-burn-y/persistent activist behaviors, I hold infinitely more disgust and UNDYING contempt for the assholes with terrible opinions that make marginalized people’s lives hell who try to shut up anyone who opposes them via mockery; snideness or shouting matches; leading to the EXISTENCE of said maladaptive tactics to deal with their BULLSHIT, and the hegemony-defenders who follow in their wake because “The complainer is always wrong.” or because “What if it were MY terrible opinions being called out?!” or because “If it’s the societally dominant opinion, then it MUST be correct!”

Like, I don’t complain that much about them mainly because I don;t follow them on Tumblr and thusly don’t see much of them to talk about on here, but oh boy do I see them everywhere else and rag on them where I can.

Like, if you spend your time getting super pissy at people for calling you on your bad opinions or for repeatedly triggering their PTSD without giving a shit or apologizing, and then wonder and bitch about why they refuse to compromise and why they’re so defensive about their space, then FUCK YOU! Because, the only reason said tactics exist is as a reaction to your attempts to shut them out of every other option of action!

anonymous asked:

Aizen-Sama is it bad that I have feelings towards you even though after everything you did. I can't help but wonder that. Also is it bad to fall for some who just uses people and then throw them away like a rag doll. To be honest I found you quite interesting at first sight. Is it bad to desire someone so badly? I'm I a fool to do so?

You can fall for me all you like, Anon.  I’m sexy as hell, that’s undeniable. 

http://kyuyoukai.deviantart.com/art/Sexy-and-i-Know-it-397271703

But let me give you some unsolicited advice, Anon.  I’m prettier at a DISTANCE.  Trust me on this one.

Has anyone who has come close to me survived?

I mean that quite literally, in fact.  If you don’t have strong spiritual pressure, being close to me will atomize you.