torn off

3 good things that happened to me today:

1. Insurance finally sent a builder out to our house to do the final quote for repairs. They’re replacing most of the roof (80%), the damaged ceilings, the insulation & wiring, ceiling fans & light fixtures, sanding & gap filling & painting the walls, sanding & restaining the window frames, replacing the entire front deck (except for the floorboards), refitting new built in wardrobes, sanding & polishing the floor.

When I said the roof got torn off my house and it got destroyed, I really wasn’t kidding!

2. I played D&D for the first time in months with my gaming group. We’re playing original D&D and we each have 2 characters because the death rate it so high. In tonight’s game 3 characters were killed by giant rats. It was so much fun!

3. The fandom has been amazing with convincing me to give multiplayer another go. I really love how supportive and wonderful you all are! *hugs* Thank you for the kindness and support. I’m totally giving it another go now!

The End Times

I was the first one to see a falling angel.

I was in my backyard stargazing, when a bright light streaked across the sky and a few moments later Gabriela smashed into my backyard.

She was really tall, I had to use two mattresses for her bed and move out most of the things in my living room to make room for her to sleep. She was very badly injured. Something had taken huge bites out of her chest, her eyes had been ripped out and one of her wings had been torn off. She spent most of her time unconscious and the rest gibbering in an unknown tongue.

She only spoke to me twice, once to tell me her name and the other time was to respond to a question I had asked her. “How did you get injured Gabriela?” I had asked. “War” she replied. She died a few hours after that.

In the following days, more and more angels fell from the sky. These angels however, were already dead, their bodies had been mutilated, sometimes so badly, that if not for their height and wings, we wouldn’t know for sure if they were angels. Surprisingly, while many people panicked, peace as a whole was kept and it only took a few days before the buses and trains were running on time again.

When the rain of corpses from heaven stopped, people were overjoyed. When huge cracks in the earth started to appear, they were less so. When fire and lava began to bubble up through the cracks, people rushed to monasteries, churches, mosques, and temples, anywhere they thought they might find answers. When the earth rumbled, and the cracks opened to spew out a horde of demons, we finally understood.

You see, the demons were all dead. Their bodies had been mutilated, just like the angels were. I thought that heaven and hell were in a war against one another, but they were actually fighting together. Against something else, something worse.

And it had won.


“I still get a lump in my throat when her dress is torn off and she runs out in the garden. Marc [Davis] always thought that was throwing her to the hounds, so to speak, to have the stepsisters rip her to shreds was more than was needed. The fact that she’s not going to get to the ball was enough. You didn’t need to tear her [dead mother’s] dress, but the sequence is beautifully structured. It gets to you.” -Frank Thomas

Today at School

Today, the day after Trump was elected as the next president of the United States, we experienced many hate crimes at my high school in Texas.

Two girls had their hijabs torn off and thrown into the lake

A latina girl had a sign thrown at her telling her to go back to Mexico

The breezeway had graffiti spelling “Can’t stump the Trump” and “Build the wall”

A massive fight broke loose near the end of the day

This happened in one day and is all directly linked to Donald Trump being elected.

Don’t tell me “just live with it it will be fine” or “he can’t do anything the president doesn’t have any real power”

I’m afraid of his supporters who have had their racist thoughts validated by the election of this man and are beginning to show their hatred through violence

I just have to hope this kind of violence doesn’t continue.

  The fact that Tamatoa knew things about Maui that even Moana and her village people didn’t leads me to believe they were actually once quite close! Back when Tamatoa was a considerably smaller size. Here, Maui vents to him about his past as the giant crustacean searches for treasure to cover the bare spots on his shell (probably to distract himself until the topic isn’t on something other than himself.)

  • friendly reminder: Marcus would choose Abby first if he could.

You know, I really love all those ‘Earth is Space Australia’ ideas and humans as the super tough, super unflappable space badasses who can smile in the face of any danger and who will pet absolutely anything that mostly isn’t toxic and sits still long enough. I adore them. However, sometimes I do wonder … do aliens have phobias?

Because I can’t help thinking that somewhere in this future universe there’s the one human who went to space because spaceships are relatively sterile environments and therefore in space there are less bugs*. And then one day a guest comes onto the ship and their multilegged pet comes slithering out from under their fashionable collar and suddenly from the back of the shuttle bay there’s this high-pitched, hysterical screaming. And the alien crew turn around and there is their human, their badass, amazingly tough human, the one who managed to survive with half her leg torn off that one time long enough to make it back to medbay, the one who bluffed space pirates for a full half-cycle without so much as a quiver, the one who had to be forcibly restrained from petting the nine-foot slavering hregallar on Threlanix because apparently they were 'adorable babies’ … that human, their human, is suddenly clinging to the ceiling in blatant defiance of the ship’s artificial gravity and wailing her head off in absolute terror over a pathetic little xhilitin. The tiny, stupidly harmless insects that about sixteen species keep as pets because their jewelled carapaces are lovely and decorative and they’re so dumb and harmless that they’ll cheerfully sit on your hat as an ornament from here until infinity.

So the mildly shellshocked aliens try and calm their human down and they get her to medbay and they’re asking 'are the xhilitin on Earth dangerous?’, which, probably, apparently everything on Earth is deadly, but none of it has ever terrified their human before, and their absolutely mortified human is going 'no, well yes, some of them are, that’s not the point, it doesn’t matter if they’re dangerous or not, I just don’t fucking like them, okay, please never let one aboard ship again, i will love you forever and fight off a hundred pirates for you if you just keep the creepy leggy little fuckers the hell away from me, i’m so fucking serious right now, i am begging you’.

And she is absolutely deadly serious, and it makes no sense whatsoever, but suddenly the entire crew are 100% for never, ever letting xhilitin aboard the ship again. Because, well. She would fight off a hundred pirates for them, she has fought off a hundred pirates for them, she’s dragged herself back with half her leg torn off that one time after saving Lehm and Ehletol from the nine-foot slavering beasties she still thinks are adorable. There is no rational reason in the universe for her to be afraid of xhilitin, but it doesn’t matter, because she is, and that means this ship is suddenly a no-insect zone from now until forever.

Because hey, okay, humans are tough, humans are insane, humans come from Space Australia, but sometimes humans come with a couple of odd little quirks, sometimes they’re randomly terrified of ridiculously harmless things, and that’s okay. That’s okay. That just means that sometimes aliens get a chance to look out for their humans in return.

* please allow me my comforting illusions and do not inform me of how unsterile and full of bugs spaceships really are, okay, this is future sci-fi land where spaceships are clean and free of creepy crawlies and nobody needs to have nightmares


all your gods are teenage girls: ARES, Greek god of war

There is something raw in her soul, something blunted, something that was torn off by teeth and never grew back. When she smiles at you, all her teeth are red. (Some are missing.) She is on the bottom of the schoolyard dog piles, the first to take a punch to the face. Her nose is broken in three places, but she can’t feel it. Her nerves went numb years ago; all that’s left to her now is anger. She slips under the seductive rush of rage and prays she’ll return having find her purpose. Surely, all things must have a meaning. If fire can both destroy and create, can’t she? When will something grow from the ashes of her? But every time the red fog clears, she finds her footing, cracks her jaw, wipes her nose and prepares for battle.

Four years of Trump is four years of demanding our voices to be heard. Don’t stay silent. If you believe in something strongly enough then make it your mission to make change happen. Don’t sit and watch your beliefs get torn apart, get up off of that couch, out of your bed, and into the real world where real things happen that affect us all like it or not. A single voice starts an idea, but only we can make that idea spread. Women’s bodies are their own and they have the right to choose what is done with them. Women are not just pussies to be grabbed at, Muslims are not all terrorists, climate change is real, gay is not a choice, and building walls to keep out “problems” is not the solution literally or metaphorically. What I am saying is real, and if you can’t handle the reality of my words then the unfollow button is right up there. We can conquer this together.

so many hate crimes happening against minorities like what the fuck. it’s annoying when people are telling others to calm down and stop overreacting and that “some of the stories are fake” but a lot of this is real and happening.

also just found out that the high school i went to, some girl’s hijab was torn off.

It was too much for Lena.

She suspected it.

Because Kara’s neck was way too defined and her shoulders were broad even though she always hunched her back. Plus that time Kara wore a backless dress to one of the galas Lena invited her to. Lena would be lying if she said she didn’t tripped over her own feet when she saw the rippling muscles.

But when she was picked up and placed on her desk in her office… Lena was sure she just died a little bit inside. Then she practically torn the shirt off of Kara, hungrily devouring the blonde’s body before her. She shuddered, watching taught and defined abdominal muscles shift and flex with every labored breath Kara took.

Guessing that your girlfriend worked out was one thing. Knowing, seeing and feeling it was a completely new experience. (Lena would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little jealous of Kara’s metabolism. Because she could eat whatever she wanted and however much she wanted. And Lena silently cursed all the galas and dinners for her soft stomach and thick thighs.)

She watched the muscles roll as Kara shrugged the shirt off, tearing Lena’s blouse in return, buttons flying everywhere; hiking the pencil skirt, bunching it around the brunette’s hips, before pushing Lena back to lie on the table.

She looked up at Kara, eyes heavy, chest heaving with deep breaths. The blonde was looking down at her, dark blue eyes and panting, hands sprawled on Lena’s thighs.

“I really hope that your office is soundproofed.” Kara rasped before bending down and placing wet open-mouthed kisses all over Lena’s stomach.

The CEO gasped, fingers tangling in thick blonde hair, before biting her lip and arching into the touch.

She couldn’t, for the life of her, remember if her office was indeed soundproof.

Or if they’d locked the door.

I’m sorry. I’ll stop.

On August 14th 2012 a four-year-old boy was rushed to hospital with severe abdominal pains and internal bleeding. The boy’s mother - who hospital staff identified as twenty-five-year old Jessica Dutro - told the emergency crash team that her son Zachary had fallen out of bed onto the hard wooden floor, and claimed his younger sister had kicked him a few times. As soon as Jessica Dutro was out of sight the E.R staff called the Portland police; Zachary had been the victim of a horrendous beating, and his mother was responsible for it.

While police caught up with Jessica, medical staff fought to save Zachary’s life; his intestines had split in two places, and feces had spread into his bloodstream causing a massive infection. Doctors also noted that Zachary’s upper lip had been partially torn off and his abdomen was covered in both fresh and partially healed bruises. Just hours after he had been admitted, Zachary Dutro died, from a combination of septic shock and internal injuries.

Jessica Dutro was immediately arrested and charged with child abuse resulting in murder. She confessed she beat Zachary because she was afraid he was gay; she had sent a text to an ex-boyfriend just a month before the fatal beating that said “he [Zachary] walks around like a fag. He needs to learn big time”. Jessica Dutro told police she snapped when Zachary insisted on taking his shoes off while he watched TV, and admitted to kicking him five times in the stomach, punching him into a wall, and tossing him onto the bed when he lost consciousness. The child lay on the bed for over thirty-six hours - in excruciating pain due to his split intestines - before his mother sought medical help.

Jessica Dutro was found guilty of killing her son and sentenced to life with the possibility of parole.