"No climate justice on occupied land"

which is definitely not an omen

Could Max be from the West coast or closer to it than to the East coast? I don't know when airmail is usually used

Letters found in Chris office:

"Max Brinly, Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp, Northkill, New York State"

"Laure Kearney, Hackett's Quarry Summer Camp, Northkill New York State"

Interesting Notes:

Airmail?

The handwritten N on the first letter to Max is different to the two other letters that are handwritten.

the second and third could be in the same writing

the one to Laura is typed and glued (?) on the envelope and secured with tape.

Enjoy your headcanons and theories!

“Circe?”

“Yes Odysseus?”

“Where’s my crew?”

job havers 🥚🐣🐥🐓

"low support needs disabled people are often not believed to have a disability at all and therefore struggle to get accommodations."

"high support needs disabled people's accommodations are often seen as 'too much' and therefore are not met."

"neurodivergent people's needs are often dismissed because nothing is physically wrong with them."

"physically disabled people people often cannot physically access buildings and people refuse to do anything about it."

"invisibly disabled people are seen as lazy by society."

"visibly disabled people are ostracized from society."

IT'S ALMOST LIKE THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE DISABILITY

One of the funniest failures of US school system is the fact they are legally obligated to teach us all the states but they never actually show how big Alaska is like I have actually had teachers tell me that Texas is the biggest state. We have all just convinced ourselves that Alaska is that small shrunken down thing on most US maps and the people that know it's the largest state can almost never accurately describe how large it is.

For context here is a picture

I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD BOB ROSS IS A GIFTED GOD I DREW ALONG TO HIS VIDEO IN MS PAINT AND

HOW

THE

FUCK

THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW PLEASE I ADVISE YOU GUYS TO DRAW ALONG WITH BOB ROSS IN MS PAINT IT IS AN EXPERIENCE I AM SO CONFUSED BUT PLEASED FUCKING DO IT

learning that apparently several hundred people have been pronouncing 'miette' as 'mighty' has actively worsened my day

Abolish the comic book industrial complex 🙂

Just married couple in front of their burning car - photographer unknown

fandom tumblr was another casualty of streaming services. we used to be on here posting about the episodes that were coming out weekly and posting gifs and writing insane shit about the tv shows we liked. now a new season of a show will drop and we’ll talk about it for a week. two weeks tops. and then that show will leave collectively conscious for 1+ year till the next season drops. there’s a reason succession sundays was a blast on here

we used to have real television

Hi Queenie!! How are you? I hope you feel better!🍀

So may I ask some angst with Abi? Feel free to do your best...or should I say your worst!;)

'You're not very smart, are you,' he'd said; 'Easy pickings,' he'd said; 'Poor, stupid little Abi.'

And he'd been right.

She'd seen what had happened to Nick, seen the way he'd bowed and broken and rotted from the inside out after what had happened in the woods (after she'd run, run, run away like a chicken, like a fraidy cat, like a coward), she'd watched his skin tear off and felt the hot sting of his blood in her open eyes, and she knew, with every step she took and every beat of her heart, that it would happen to her, too - it should've happened already, by all accounts it should've, but...she couldn't even get that right, could she?

Couldn't get the guy, couldn't make friends - she'd seen it in Emma's eyes back at the cabins, back when the sun was still shining and there wasn't anywhere to hide, she had only ever been nice to her because she'd felt bad for her, she'd pitied her, she'd taken one single second-long look and thought what only Nick had had the nerve enough to say: not very smart, easy pickings, poor, poor, poorpoorpoorpoorpoor stupid little Abi. She hadn't wanted to go to the fire pit (she'd gone), she hadn't wanted to play truth or dare (she'd played), she hadn't wanted to disobey Mr. H or hide in Nurse Kelly's office or abandon Nick in the woods when that thing had its teeth in him (she had, she had, she had).

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she ran through the woods, panting and picking herself up whenever she tripped, putting as much space between herself and the others as she possibly could, fleeing deeper and deeper and deeper into the trees, her eyes stinging from mascara and sweat and blood and tears and the thing inside of her trying so desperately to claw its way out; running away was the one thing she was any good at, after all, and she hoped (prayed) the others would remember she'd at least gotten that right, even if it turned out to be the very last thing she did.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!