I have started unironically doing this. It is DEVASTATINGLY effective. You make friends SO easily.

Stop wishing people would do this and be the person who does this.

upnextdesigner: EVERYONE MEET @hannichka, the superstar woman behind everyone’s favorite show Heated Rivarly!

Tiffany couldn't quite work out how Miss Level got paid. Certainly the basket she carried filled up more than it emptied. They'd walk past a cottage and a woman would come scurrying out with a fresh-baked loaf or a jar of pickles, even though Miss Level hadn't stopped there. But they'd spend an hour somewhere else, stitching up the leg of a farmer who'd been careless with an axe, and get a cup of tea and a stale biscuit. 

It didn't seem fair.

“Oh, it evens out,” said Miss Level, as they walked on through the woods. 

“You do what you can. People give what they can, when they can. Old Slapwick there, with the leg, he's as mean as a cat, but there'll be a big cut of beef on my doorstep before the week's end, you can bet on it. His wife will see to it. And pretty soon people will be killing their pigs for the winter, and I'll get more brawn, ham, bacon and sausages turning up than a family could eat in a year.”

“You do? What do you do with all that food?”

“Store it,” said Miss Level. 

“But you-”

“I store it in other people. It's amazing what you can store in other people.” Miss Level laughed at Tiffany's expression. “I mean, I take what I don't need round to those who don't have a pig, or who're going through a bad patch, or who don't have anyone to remember them.”

“But that means they'll owe you a favour!”

“Right! And so it just keeps on going round. It all works out.”

“I bet some people are too mean to pay-”

“Not pay,” said Miss Level, severely. “A witch never expects payment and never asks for it and just hopes she never needs to. But, sadly, you are right.”

“And then what happens?"

“What do you mean?”

“You stop helping them, do you?”

“Oh, no,” said Miss Level, genuinely shocked. “You can't not help people just because they're stupid or forgetful or unpleasant. Everyone's poor round here. If I don't help them, who will?”

If you ask Shen Qingqiu, he can say that self-detonation feels similar to beheading.

Looking at beheading, you would assume it's an instant death. And throughout time people did assume that. After all, how could you possibly have any awareness after getting your head cut off? And it's not like anyone could just ask them.

Now people know it's not true. There is a brief window of consciousness between the beheading and the death.

Looking at self-detonation, you would assume it's an instant death.

Now Shen Qingqiu knows it's not true.

From his point of view, he actually lives for quite a while after blowing up his core. He manages to dramatically say his final words, smile, and then dramatically tumble down the roof in a dramatic fall. Very dramatic.

For those short moments all he feels is blinding pain.

Then he dies, and he stops feeling anything.

And then he is alive again.

Sort of…

Shen Qingqiu finds himself in a familiar place. He is floating in a pure darkness, the only source of light is System's window in front of him.

WARNING! During the process of Soul Transfer, an [Error] has occurred!

WARNING! No body available for Soul Transfer!

WARNING! Entering the Recalculation Mode!

Please don't turn off your System.

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Are you fucking kidding me?

ever since i finished heated rivalry i can’t stop thinking about ilya confessing his love to shane in russian over the phone.

the way that scene was composed gave me an awfully familiar, terrifying feeling of tension.

it was beautiful and heartfelt, but it was also scary.

i’ve lived in moscow for six years. a strange place. it almost feels like it’s constantly looming over you, crowding you against the walls. you walk fast. you look over your shoulder constantly. you don’t smile at strangers. you squeeze your keys tightly in the pocket of your winter coat.

seeing ilya crouching down, enclosed by walls covered in graffiti, bathed in reddish light and looking out at the dark, snowy scrap of city outside reminded me so much of myself.

there used to be a subway station right next to my house in moscow. it looked almost the same — defiled by graffiti, lit by flickering, old lamps. i’d have to cross the passage to get on the other side of the street and i remember hating it. i could never explain why, but i always felt uneasy walking through it. i would quicken my pace, heartbeat jittery, just to reach the air and noise outside again.

seeing ilya sitting there, pouring his heart out, i felt the tension running through me again. the need to say the important things weighing on your heart, but fearing you would be overheard. that constant paranoia of someone finding out you’re gay. painfully familiar to me.

the monologue was also written perfectly and connor storrie’s performance was show-stopping. as a native speaker, i could tell how much work he put into handling the russian language well. all the pauses were in the right places. the choice of words was perfect. it felt so real…the desperation in it, the longing, the fear.

i would love to talk about how what he actually says in the monologue perfectly captures the cultural dilemma ilya’s up against and how relatable it all was to me as someone who grew up surrounded by that culture, but i feel i’d have to make another post.

i haven’t been to moscow in many years, will likely never return again. but seeing this scene in the show, it brought me back there temporarily. not necessary for a good feeling, not even nostalgia. just back to a part of me that is long gone.

A big reason why I think I became a marxist is bc I read A LOT of Calvin & Hobbes and Bill Watterson really went out of his way to lay the groundwork for teaching people critical analysis. Like take this panel for example:

EVERYTHING one knows about American/Western culture, especially in the late 80's/early 90's, would lead to the logical next line being some form of "Kids These Days Are Succumbing To The Evils Of Satan" or some likewise cheap Reaction™ But then Bill pulls the rug out

He criticizes the "satanic" bands not for some lack of christian morals but because theyre a byproduct of hyperconsumptionist culture. Bill takes no issue with the subject matter bc his issue is knowing its only being done to sell rebellion as a consumer product rather than to say anything truly provocative or inspired.

It will always fascinate me that my mother managed to write her entire child psychology thesis on C&H, and then turned out to be a horrible parent. Not only did the entire concept of these comics go over her head in general, she picked it apart based on professional psychological texts and STILL didn't pick up a damn thing from it.

i had a dream this morning that the newest thing was that when you changed the channel on the TV you'd get a text that said "we noticed you changed the channel! would you mind giving us a rating?" with a link and then if you turned off the TV you'd get another that said "did you mean to turn off the TV? we miss you!" and i really don't think we're far off from that

"I yield!" the dragon cried at last.

It crawled away, leaving the way to its lair open to the knight.

"Princess!" he called out. "I've come to bring you back!"

A figure emerged from the cave, wearing an odd mix of armour parts, and carrying a pollaxe.

"Fuck you," the princess growled. "Make me!"

#cw: self harm #like if you asked Xichen right before WWX came back  #and you were someone he cared for and trusted  #Is Wangji ok  #i think he'd say something like hes out of seclusion and that's good  #he seems to be enjoying his work  #he hasn't self harmed recently and while he keeps alcohol in the house he has not been drinking  #so that's a big improvement!  #it's interesting because Hua Cheng is also motivated to becomes a better person and protect people by way of true love  #but I do think lwj wants that more on his own merits  #with Wei Wuxian inspiring him to change his approach more than his goal?  #once again cql vs mdzs strike  #let's protect the innocent together vs. right or wrong I just want to be by your side  #and take the consequences with you  #it's a big difference! these are not people having the same experience  #both of them are imo living pretty bleak lives when WWX isn't about  #they're sad! they're just capable of channeling that sadness is fairly productive ways

(via @winepresswrath)

The Wageworker, Lincoln, Nebraska, May 31, 1907

i am going to get a bad grade in sleeping, something which is normal not to want but terribly easy to achieve.

THE GUYS IN THE BACKGROUND MAKE MY LIFE. THEY’RE SO PROUD OF HER. FUCK YES

This is one of the very first things I reblogged and I still love it

This is one of the

very first things I reblogged

and I still love it

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

“I’m the Labor Day Fairy and I’m here to teach you the true meaning of collective bargaining.”

I want to write a movie that is sort of the flip side of a Hallmark holiday movie. Not an anti-Hallmark movie, just like the other side of the same coin.

It starts with a well-dressed professional woman driving a convertible along a country road, autumn foliage in the background, terribly scenic. She turns onto a dirt road/long driveway, and stops next to a field of Christmas trees, all growing in neat, ordered rows, perfectly trimmed and pruned to form. She steps out of the car--no, she's not wearing high-heels, give her some sense!--and knocks on the door of a worn but nice-looking farmhouse. An older woman, late fifties maybe, answers the door, looking a bit puzzled. The younger woman asks if she can buy a Christmas tree now, today. The older woman says they don't do retail sales--and the younger woman breaks down crying.

Cut to the two women sitting at the kitchen table with cups of tea. The young woman (Michelle), no longer actively crying, explains that her mother loves Christmas more than anything, but is in the hospital with end-stage cancer. Her doctors don't think she'll live to see December, let alone Christmas. Nobody is selling Christmas trees in September, so could the older woman please make an exception, just this once? The older woman (Helen) regretfully explains that they have a contract to sell their trees that forbids outside sales. The younger woman nods, starts to stand up, but the older woman stops her with a hand and asks her what hospital her mother is in. After she answers the older woman says that "my Joe" will deliver a tree the next day. "Contract says I can't sell you a tree, but nothing says I can't give you one."

Next day "Joe" shows up at the hospital in flannel and jeans, with a smallish tree over her shoulder. Oh, whoops, that's Jo, Helen's daughter, short for Joanna, not Joe. Jo sets up the tree and even pulls out a box of lights and ornaments. Mother watches from hospital bed with a big smile as Jo and Michelle decorate the tree. Cue "end of movie" type sappiness as nurses and other patients gather in the doorway, smiling at the tree.

Cut to Michelle sitting in her dark apartment, clutching a mug of tea, staring out at the falling snow and the Christmas lights outside. Her apartment has no tree, no decorations, nothing. She starts at a knock on the door, goes to open it. Jo is standing there, again holding a tree over her shoulder.

Plot develops: the second tree is a gift, because Michelle might as well get it as the bank. The contract for the tree sales was an /option/ contract, which prevents them from selling to anyone else, but doesn't guarantee the sale. The corporation with the option isn't going to buy the trees, but Helen and Jo can't sell them anywhere else, and basically they get nothing. They'll lose the farm without the year's income. Michelle asks to see the contract and Jo promises to email it to her.

Next day at a very upscale law firm, Michelle asks at the end of a staff meeting if anyone in contract law still needs pro bono hours for the year. No one does, but a senior partner (Abe) takes her to his office and asks about it. She says the contract looks hinky to her ("Is that a legal term?" "Yes.") but contract law's not her thing. He raises an eyebrow and she grins and pulls a sheaf of paper out of her bag and hands it over. He reads it over, then looks up at her. "They signed this?"

More plot develops. Abe calls in underlings--interns, paralegals, whatever--and the contract is examined, dissected, and ultimately shredded (metaphorically). It's worse even than it looks--on January 1st Helen and Jo will have to repay the advanced they received at signing. The corporation has bought up a suspicious number of Christmas tree farms in previous years after foreclosure, etc.

Cut to Abe explaining all this to Helen and Jo while sitting with them and Michelle in a very swanky conference room. The firm is willing to take on the case pro bono, hopefully as a class's action suit for other farmers trapped by the contract--but there's no way it can go to court before January. Which will be too late to save the farm's income for the year. They might get enough in damages to tide them over, but….

After Michelle sees Helen and Jo out, she comes back and asks Abe if there's anything they can do immediately. Abe looks thoughtful for a long moment, then gets a really shark-like grin on his face. "Maybe…."

Cut to Helen wearing a bathrobe, coming into her kitchen in the morning. She looks out the window…and there's a food truck stopped in her driveway. She pulls a coat on over her robe and goes out--two more trucks have pulled up while she does this. Driver of the first truck asks her where they park. Another truck pulls up behind the others. Behind that is a black BMW--Abe rolls down the window and waves. Helen directs the trucks to the empty field/yard next to the house. Abe pulls up next to Helen's car and Jo's truck and parks. He and Michelle get out--Abe wearing a total power suit, Michelle in weekend casual.

The case will be easier if the corporation initially sues them for violating the (uninforcible!) contract, rather than them suing to corporation (damn if I know, but it's movie logic). So they're going to sell the trees now, and rounded up some food trucks and whatnot to draw people in.

Cue montage of Jo and Michelle running around helping people set up while Abe and Helen watch from the kitchen table. The table starts out covered in file folders…and slowly gains coffee cups and plates of cinnamon rolls. It becomes increasingly clear here that Abe and Helen are becoming as close as Jo and Michelle.

Everything gets set up and a very urban, very motley crowd appears--tats and studs and multiracial couples and LGBTQ parents and everything--and everyone is having a wonderful time eating funnel cake and choosing their tree so Jo and a bunch of rainbow-haired elves can cut it for them. At which point someone shows up from the corporation (maybe with a sheriff's deputy?) and starts yelling at Helen, who's running checkout. And suddenly Abe appears from the house and you realize why he's wearing that suit on a Saturday….

Cue confrontation and corporate flunky running off with their tail between their legs, blustering about suing. Cue Jo kissing Michelle. Cue Helen walking over and putting a hand on Abe's shoulder and smiling at her.

I want the lawyers to be the heroes because they are lawyers and know the law. I want a lesbian who lives in the country with her mother. I want urbanites to turn out as a community to help someone who isn't even part of their community. I want Michelle to keep working at her high-power job, loving Christmas and grieving her mother.

Feels like a Leverage christmas episode /pos