I know it's supposed be a 1 sentence headcanon, so im gonna be bit bad and have a running sentence :)) HC: Hyde really likes it when Jackie talks cars but she has a passive interest in it so she needs to be in a certain mood to talk about it; so Hyde tries to slip cars into conversations sometimes and even finds it easier to explain some things to Jackie in car metaphors. :))) idk I just feel like Hyde and Jackie needed to talk more about cars, and they never did even if it would've been natural
I know it’s supposed be a 1 sentence headcanon, so im gonna be bit bad and have a running sentence :)) HC: Hyde really likes it when Jackie talks cars but she has a passive interest in it so she needs to be in a certain mood to talk about it; so Hyde tries to slip cars into conversations sometimes and even finds it easier to explain some things to Jackie in car metaphors. :))) idk I just feel like Hyde and Jackie needed to talk more about cars, and they never did even if it would’ve been natural
People in crisis are often experiencing decision fatigue. Don’t ask them “what can I do?”, ask them something concrete. “Can I get you dinner?” “Does your dog need to be walked?” “Would you like some quiet company?”
They may say no, and that’s okay, but if you can save them the chore of having to think up a task for you, it’s a good thing.
(Anecdote: my best friend had a difficult delivery with her kid. When they were in the hospital, I asked if I could send dinner, and then asked “do you want to make any choices about what you eat?” I know what she generally likes, so when she said no, I was able to send things that she would enjoy and didn’t have to choose. She says it was one of the best things I could have done for her. Sometimes offering to make a choice for someone is a gift.)
The plan for the 17th, when the adult content ban comes in, is to protest.
To do that, we are making as much noise either side of the 17th as possible, and using the site as normal.
On the 17th, dead silence.
People are saying log off but what they really mean is don’t open the site or the app.
But, on the 17th make as much noise as possible on every other platform. Tweet about it and post on facebook and instagram and everywhere else.
What this does is causes a massive dip in ad revenue for one single day. That does not make staff think ‘oh everyone’s gone let’s shut down.’ What it actually makes them think is ‘oh shit people aren’t happy and if people don’t keep using our site we’re out of money and out of jobs.’
A boycott reminds a company that the users (consumers) have the power to make their site (business) worthless with one single coordinated decision.
If you want to join in, here’s what to do:
Do:
Close all open instances of the app and site on all your devices before the 17th
Make posts before and after the 17th on tumblr and other platforms, talking about why this ban is bad
Make posts on other sites during the 17th. Flood the official tumblr staff twitter and facebook with your anger and your opinion
Come back on the 18th and check in
Don’t:
Delete the app from your phone (this doesn’t affect their revenue and since it’s off the store at the moment it’ll be hard to get back)
Delete your account. I mean you can if you want to, but if you keep your account and don’t use it you’re saying to staff that there’s still time to save it. If you delete it’s hard work to come back.
Open the app or website (including specific blogs)
Make any posts (turn down/off your queue and make sure nothing is scheduled)
Go quiet elsewhere. Make it clear that this is just about tumblr, not a mass move away from all social media.
Remember: the execs don’t care about anything but money. Shutting down the site means there’s $0 further income from it. That’s their last possible course of action. If we make it clear we’re not happy, they’ll have to do something or we can do more and more until it becomes too expensive.
Protests take commitment. They’re a defiant action against a business that is doing something wrong. They will try to scare you into not participating, because they’re scared. We hold all the power here, sometimes the execs just need to be reminded of that.
This was supposed to be so many things (a comic, a fic, an actual cake…) but I just failed at them :)) You, on the other hand, are a master of your art of fluff. If you were in charge of romantic situations, you might just make the world a whole lot more fluffy…and asexual. hahhahahaha! Happy birthday, you!
zendaya, a feminist woc who has always spoken out about social issues and bella thorne, a strong independent women who just came out as bisexual like wow can you believe shake it up was actually the best disney show ever
Master thief is bored, and figures they can best all mortals, why not try to best a deity?
Someone, possibly a rival church or deity, promised the thief something they couldn’t refuse, like a particular magic item or resurrection of a loved one or something.
They’re the Robin Hood kind of thief who feels like the item needs to be taken away and given to people who need/deserve it more. (That’s why Prometheus stole the fire, after all).
The thief is just plain curious about the item, and knows they’ll never get the chance to investigate it if they don’t claim it for themselves.
The thief is particularly devout, but the gods are exceedingly quiet/inactive in the world, so they take it to keep it safe from other thieves.
The thief is of the opinion that the god stole something from them first. Like.. a loved one, for example. And now in return, the thief steals something as compensation.
The thief is in love with the god and wants to get their attention.
The thief wants to become God of Thieves themself and therefore want to best the current God of Thieves - by stealing from him.
The thief has a collection. he could be a collector of x, and the gods have the most powerful x. it’s just a matter of circumstance that it’s powerful and owned by the gods; if it wasnt an x, he wouldnt steal it. but it’s x, so…
The thief is being blackmailed or used by someone else to do his bidding.
The thief is compelled by another god, he’s being used as a pawn by the gods in a godly prank or war or wager.
The best part? these aren’t even all of the files.
because on On July 25, the same day the DNC is supposed to name Hillary as the Democratic Nominee, Wikileaks is releasing thousands of DNC/Clinton emails.
GUYS!!! YOU NEED TO KNOW THIS TWITTERS DOING EVERYTHING TO SHUT THIS DOWN
And yet, Clinton is still a better choice than Trump.
Let’s be honest here. All of us Bernie supporters suspected all of this from the start. We knew Bernie was a long shot, that Hillary was the establishment candidate. That was a big part of why we liked him.
These leaks are only news in that they confirm things everyone already knew. We already knew that our primary system is broken, for both parties, that it’s way too easy for Washington insiders to just plain ignore what happens in the primary. Most states’ delegates to the convention have almost nothing to do with the primary election results, and once those delegates are at the convention they can vote however they please anyway. These things are well known.
Does that make it right? Of course not. But faulting an establishment politician for taking advantage of a primary system already rigged in her favor is like faulting a dog for chewing on a raw steak that was left within reach. It is something that happens when we haven’t been paying enough attention before it happens. Getting mad when it does happen doesn’t fix it. If we want election reform, the time to do it is not in the middle of the election, but well before it.
Hillary Clinton is still a better choice than Trump. Electing Trump is literally electing a fascist totalitarian to the head of the most powerful nation in the world. Hillary might be a spoiled, entitled, establishment candidate, but Trump is the end of the free world as we know it. Lesser of two evils here, folks.
And honestly, Hillary isn’t a bad option. She’s only a little left of center, but if we put a progressive Congress in with her, we should be able to get some things done.
Rewrite a classic fairy tale by telling it backwards. The end is now the beginning.
Once upon a time there was a princess who loved so deeply that her heart was worn constantly on her sleeve. She fell in love with a prince, and the next year, her father allowed them to be wed- he remembered his own wife every day, and wished his daughter to be as happy as he had been.
The day of the wedding came, and the girl walked down the aisle in a dress of gentle silver. The Prince took her hand and smiled, and leant in to kiss her.
For luck, he would later say. A kiss for luck, a smile for joy, a laugh for a happy ending. It was a saying his own family had had for years, but it was a saying that failed him.
For the second his lips touched hers, she fell to the floor with a sigh.
Not dead they healers told the prince. not dead but sleeping, not dead but unable to wake.
The prince- so ashamed, so in fear of his life and hers- stole her away from the castle that night, away from her father and her people, so they would never have to watch her waste away.
He hid her in a forest, in a casket of diamond and ice, and he waited. Waited, for he did not even know where to start. He did not even know if the hope for her waking had a point.
He was there for two days when they found him. Seven short folk, small men with beards and axes in their hands, and harsh smiles on their faces.
We can help you they said to him, the six cackling behind the speaker. But, prince, it will come at a price.
I would pay anything. He vowed. Only later, realising he should have asked what it would be.
The Seven disappeared and left him on his own. Alone, other than the silent not-dead princess at his side.
When they returned there was an eighth with them- an old frail woman with a basket in her hands.
We will wake her she said, pulling out an apple and throwing it in their air but you will never look at her, talk to her again, and she will work in the mines with my dwarves here.
He wanted to say no. But knowing she was alive, even out of reach, was better than sleep and near death.
so yes he said. Help her.
The old woman smiled and picked out a knife, cutting the apple into small parts. One, she handed to the prince, the other, she took over to the casket, and opening it, she placed it on the princess’ lips.
A gasp, a flash of her eyes opening, and the prince knew nothing more.
***
The princess woke in a place she did not know, surrounded by people she did not know. An old woman and short men- and her prince, asleep on the ground.
He is not dead the old woman said only sleeping. But around you, he will never wake. He saved you but cursed you both- and now your life is tied to my mines.
The princess tried to fight, to leave.
But the old woman had magic and she did not, and the dwarves were all she knew for many years. Sometimes as friends, sometimes as enemies, often arguing but always allies, they worked side by sides in the underground mines, looking for fairydust and rubies, magic and gold.
They taught her the songs of work and the songs of marches, and soon she forgot that she had even been a princess.
One evening she was walking back to their home alone, when she heard a noise to her left. She looked, expecting a rabbit, a bird, but out stepped a man with a bow in his hands.
You shouldn’t be out in the woods alone he said to her.
This is my home.
Trees are no home for anyone. She wondered if she should tell him of the many people hidden in the forest, each with no where else to go come with me.
Why?
Because I have a place you can go.
She should have said no- but what was there for her in the trees and the mine? So she took his hand and he led her out into the bright daylight, through winding roads intil they arrived at a castle she did not know.
where are we? she asked.
The Huntsman smiled my home, and the home of my queen.
He led her in through the doors, up to a room where a woman was sat on a throne. The woman stood as she saw the princess, staring at her in wide eyed shock.
You look just like her the queen whispered.
Once, the Huntsman said quietly, seeing the question in the princess’ eyes my queen had a child. A daughter who should have been your age. But she was stolen away by the man my queen loved.
You-
I’m not her the princess said- but she had never known her mother. Only her father and an empty throne at his side.
No. the queen said, her tone one of disbelief. But I am in need of an heir, and you in need of care. Stay here a while, and let us see.
