I’m curious!
Reblog if your url is a representation of who you are
DONT STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE! DONT STOP TAKING ABOUT GAZA!
DONT LET THEM MAKE YOU FORGET!!
Can your man fight?
do i look like i would be attracted to a man who couldn't kill someone with his bare hands
Obi-wan: how have you avoided the inquisitors all this time?
Quinlan Vos: when they look up my name the first thing that pops up is the time I got arrested at an empire day parade for flashing an admiral for beads. It's usually enough to convince them I'm not a jedi.
its so sad that radfem just means transphobe and not like. this
Obviously, the inspector is a badass adrenaline junkie who instantly and quite matter-of-factly decided to go lasso a runaway locomotive… but I’m imagining him running up to a bunch of crewmembers on their break and asking who would volunteer their engine and their own fragile, fleshy limbs to join him.
And every man just blanches in disbelief, because no one signed on for such Indiana Jones bullshit. This is circa 1960, not 1860, and they plan on drawing their pensions, y’know?
(This is one of my headcanons that works even better with non-sentient engines. Because there might be an impulse to risk one’s life to save a sentient being, although honestly even in the actual canon it’s James, one of the most unpleasant jerks around, so I think the inspector still wasn’t beating off volunteers with a stick.)
However, even before the inspector can hector them and shout that there is not a second to lose, ol’ Charlie Sand speaks up with preternatural calm: “Yeah, we’ll do it. Come along, Sid.”
Everyone else (sans inspector): !!??!?
And Sand spares a moment to turn back around. He is normally a sociable and easygoing kind of fellow, and no one was prepared for the dark quality to his smile. “I’ve heard what they’ve been saying about my engine. I’ll be goddamned if I lose this chance.”
Hey guys, what if the DWMA is filled with so much autistic people that the whole school is a autism program at this point. I’m telling y’all that everyone in that show is autistic, I’m not the boss.
God does not play dice with the universe; He plays an ineffable game of His own devising, which might be compared, from the perspective of any of the other players [i.e. everybody], to being involved in an obscure and complex variant of poker in a pitch-dark room, with blank cards, for infinite stakes, with a Dealer who won't tell you the rules, and who smiles all the time. Credit to Teaableu for my icon!!!!!!!
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