Wait, wait wait. What is this intriguing Publish to AO3 Google Doc? I write all my stuff in Google Drive, but I agonize through fixing the formatting when I paste it from there into AO3. Have I been missing something magical?

lemonsharks:

petals42:

THIS IS ABOUT TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE.

So, on the AO3 “Cool Stuff” FAQ, there is a link to this document under “Posting and Managing Works.”

THIS IS THE BEST DOCUMENT IN ALL OF HISTORY. Basically, it has a script in it that has a “Post to AO3″ option and it will go in and fill in ALL the HTML you need – italics, bold, paragraph breaks, you name it!

It has directions in it for how to use it, but it’s real simple. You just always chose “Make a Copy” when you start writing to make a new document that you can then re-name. Change the language to American English (or whatever language you use) and type away. Then right before you post, click the button, get all the code in there, copy, paste, AND POST. 

It is literally so, so glorious and I want to tell everyone. 

(Also, the AO3 Cool FAQ page has some other cool stuff too!)

REBLOG TO SAVE A LIFE

amiraculouspieceoftrash:

amiraculouspieceoftrash:

Hey since I haven’t been active in forever, who wants to hear a story about how I became a local cryptid in my town?

image

Alright lets do this.

So I live in a small neighborhood kinda thing. Its honestly shaped like someone connected two bongs with a straw that leads out to the street, so very tiny and not a lot of people drive through cause its a dead end, and surrounded by woods Anyways, so it’s Saturday morning, like 3 am and my sister has taken her behemoth of a dog outside. 

Little background, this dog is a saint bernard, lab mix, so he big. Hes also amazingly stupid. He’s only three and we got him a year ago so he still does stupid shit all the time. Anyways hes got a long lead line on him, probably 30 ft, so hes off doing whatever and my sister is kinda dazed, still sleepy. 

Homeboy fucking TAKES OFF and runs into the woods behind my house, taking that lead with him and a good chunk of my sisters palm skin. Whatever he’s chasing has speed, and hes keeping up with it. So I run outside cause shes screaming his name and start to take off after him. I thought that mother fucker would get caught on a tree due to the lead but nope was I wrong. Now the woods probably go a mile back before they hit road, and then stretch around 5 miles horizontally. 

I’m worried this dumb dog is gonna run into the street and get hit, so I run the mile to the street (with my very out of shape body. I honestly thought I was going to die). After like 15 minutes of tripping and trying to make my way through this damn jungle, I get to the street. At this point I still look a human so nothing happens, I dont see him anywhere, and I run back to the house cause I’ve realized I’m in a tank top and boxer shorts with no shoes and its tick season. So I change into a big ass sweatshirt and sweat pants and boots even though its almost 90 degrees out because I do not want to have to deal with ticks. 

After chugging some water I take back off, this time going horizontally. I caught sight of something running so I took off, yelling my brains out, managing to sprain my ankle and rip half my hair outta my ponytail in the process. Around a mile down I lose sight of it so I turn and hike the mile back to the street just to make sure it didn’t go that way. 

After that I go back to my house, and then return to the spot where i last saw him and continue walking till I’m like 2 ½ miles away.

So my trip so far has been 

1 mile to street > 1 mile home > 1 mile horizontally > 1 mile to street > 2 miles home > 2 ½ miles horizontally

So I’m about ready to die. I’m covering in blood from smashing my arm, one of my eyes has turned red cause a stick poked it, I’ve got a limp, I’m breathing like a dragon with asthma, and I’m covering in leaves and sticks. 

I start yelling his name again and hear a bark in the distance so I take off and after like 5 minutes I spot him. He is now howling like a banshee in distress. I book it towards his dumb ass and practically tackle him, which ended up with me covered in a random assortment of shit. Cool, whatever. His leash is tied around two trees so I unravel it and he pounces on me in relief. He’s salivating like crazy so I take him to a stream near by to let him drink.

Mother fucker pulls me in. I’m too tired to be pissed. At this point now that I’m calming down I realize my boots are now soaking wet with both blood and water. I’ve got several scars on my thigh and they all got ripped open. So I’m gushing blood like no tomorrow. I soak my jacket in water and put it on this stupid dog so he wont get burnt on the way back and itll be a bit cooler. So now he looks even bigger then usual. I take my shoes off and toss them over my neck and we’re about to start the trek back when he takes off AGAIN. This time I’m holding the leash and I do not let go. He ends up slipping on a mud bank and taking me with him. With are now covered head to toe in mud, shit, dirt, blood, and whatever the hell else is in those woods.

Some how he has ended up with no major wounds, but now I have a rock lodged in my forehead and blood in my eyes. And my shoes are gone. Whatever, I just want to get home. I pick a direction and walk until I end up in the back yard of someone who lives down the street. 

Lucky for me, this person has barbed wire in their back yard on the ground for some reason, which I trip on. Now I have barbed wire practically wrapped around me like some crazy fashion statement. I wanted to get home so bad I didn’t even bother to rip it off. I’d do that later and return it to the guy or whatever. 

So now its like 6am, so its dark, but you can still see, and its dead quiet. I pull my sisters dog along with me, holding his collar so he can’t take off again. So heres me, covered in blood, mud, and barbed wire, limping down the street, no shoes on, with a large dog wearing a jacket, which, from a distance, you cant tell. Now I smell like whatever was in those woods, and it is a strong smell, so as I walk by any house with a dog outside, that dog starts barking. Eventually the quiet is replaced with dogs howling, barking, snarling at me.  I eventually make it back to my house, but not before passing a dude getting his newspaper or whatever. He’s a good distance away from me and he hesitantly calls out asking if I’m okay. I respond with “yeah” but I’ve been yelling for like 3 hours straight so it comes out as ungodly rasp. He goes right the fuck back in his house. 

I get home, get cleaned up, get the dog cleaned up, and everythings fine. UNTIL a couple nights later my mom goes to a neighborhood meeting thing and hears an interesting story. 

Turns out, there had been a black bear in the woods near my house, which people had been keeping an eye out for, but instead they saw (what they thought) was a “humanoid figure covered in spikes dragging a bear covered in blood around by its neck”

For the next few weeks people were talking about how they heard the “horrific screeching” and how there was blood all down the streets and on the trees. The dude who asked if I was okay was telling everybody that the “thing” growled at him and he could see it had blood red eyes. 

So now theres a rumor about a demon with razor sharp tendrils who feeds on wild animals by slashing them open and drinking their blood. Rumor states that you’ll hear it before you see it, and the sound it makes sounds like a howl and a scream. People later found my boots covered in blood and said it was a “victim” of the demon. A week later a house that was being built caught fire and that was blamed on me, as well as an accident where someone swerved to avoid something and crashed through a house. The stream turned blood red after some heavy rainfall, which was due to the mud, but also blamed on me and some more screeching was heard for a couple nights (coyotes most likely). Due to people “spotting” the demon (which was either their imagination or the actual bear) the rumor grew and grew so now its famous in my neighborhood. 

So yeah thats how I became a “bear killing demon” in my neighborhood. I never corrected anyone because I was too embarrassed. 

In the 1960′s Legally a woman couldn’t

shatterpath:

hedwig-dordt:

drst:

gehayi:

galacticdrift:

spikesjojo:

  1. Open a bank account or get a credit card without signed permission from her father or hr husband.
  2. Serve on a jury – because it might inconvenience the family not to have the woman at home being her husband’s helpmate.
  3. Obtain any form of birth control without her husband’s permission. You had to be married, and your hub and had to agree to postpone having children.
  4. Get an Ivy League education.
    Ivy League schools were men’s colleges ntil the 70′s and 80′s. When
    they opened their doors to women it was agree that women went there for
    their MRS. Degee.
  5. Experience equality in the workplace: Kennedy’s
    Commission on the Status of Women produced a report in 1963 that
    revealed, among other things, that women earned 59 cents for every
    dollar that men earned and were kept out of the more lucrative
    professional positions.
  6. Keep her job if she was pregnant.Until the Pregnancy Discrimination Act in 1978, women were regularly fired from their workplace for being pregnant.
  7. Refuse to have sex with her husband.The mid 70s saw most states recognize marital rape and in 1993 it became criminalized
    in all 50 states. Nevertheless, marital rape is still often treated
    differently to other forms of rape in some states even today.
  8. Get a divorce with some degree of ease.Before the No Fault Divorce
    law in 1969, spouses had to show the faults of the other party, such as
    adultery, and could easily be overturned by recrimination.
  9. Have a legal abortion in most states.The Roe v. Wade case in 1973 protected a woman’s right to abortion until viability.
  10. Take legal action against workplace sexual harassment.

    According to The Week, the first time a court recognized office sexual harassment as grounds for legal action was in 1977.

  11. Play college sports
    Title IX of the  Education
    Amendments of protects people from discrimination  based
    on sex in education programs or activities that receive Federal
    financial  assistance

    It was nt until this statute that colleges had teams for women’s sports

  12. Apply for men’s Jobs  
    The EEOC rules that
    sex-segregated help wanted ads in newspapers are illegal.  This ruling
    is upheld in 1973 by the Supreme Court, opening the way for women to
    apply for higher-paying jobs hitherto open only to men.

This is why we needed feminism – this is why we know that feminism works

I just want to reiterate this stuff, because I legit get the feeling there are a lot of younger women for whom it hasn’t really sunk in what it is today’s GOP is actively trying to return to.

Did you go to a good college? Shame on you, you took a college placement that could have gone to a man who deserves and needs it to support or prepare for his wife & children. But if you really must attend college, well, some men like that, you can still get married if you focus on finding the right man.

Got a job? Why? A man could be doing that job. You should be at home caring for a family. You shouldn’t be taking that job away from a man who needs it (see college, above). You definitely don’t have a career – you’ll be pregnant and raising children soon, so no need to worry about promoting you.

This shit was within living memory

I’M A MILLENIAL and my mother was in the second class that allowed women at an Ivy League school.

Men who are alive today either personally remember shit like this or have parents/family who have raised them into thinking this was the way America functioned back in the blissful Good Old Days. There are literally dudes in the GOP old enough to remember when it was like this and yearn for those days to return.

When people talk about resisting conservativism and the GOP, we’re not just talking about whether the wage gap is a myth or not. We’re talking about whether women even have the fundamental right to exist as individuals, to run their own households and compete for jobs and be considered on an equal footing with men in any arena at all in the first place.

I was a child in the 1960s, a teenager in the 1970s, a young adult in the 1980s.
This is what it was like:

When I was growing up, it was considered unfortunate if a girl was good at sports. Girls were not allowed in Little League. Girls’ teams didn’t exist in high school, except at all-girls’ high schools. Boys played sports, and girls were the cheerleaders.

People used to ask me as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up. I said I wanted to be a brain surgeon or the first woman justice on the Supreme Court. Everyone told me it was impossible–those just weren’t realistic goals for a girl–the latter, especially, because you couldn’t trust women to judge fairly and rationally, after all.

In the 1960s and 1970s, all women were identified by their marital status, even in arrest reports and obituaries. In elementary school, my science teacher referred to Pierre Curie as DOCTOR Curie and Marie Curie as MRS. Curie…because, as he put it, “she was just his wife.” (Both had doctorates and both were Nobel prize winners, so you would think that both would be accorded respect.)

Companies could and did require women to wear dresses and skirts. Failure to do could and did get women fired. And it was legal. It was also legal to fire women for getting married or getting pregnant. The rationale was that a woman who was married or who had a child had no business working; that was what her husband was for. Aetna Insurance, the biggest insurance company in America, fired women for all of the above.

A man could rape his wife. Legally. I can remember being twelve years old and reading about legal experts actually debating whether or not a man could actually be said to coerce his wife into having sex. This was a serious debate in 1974.

The debate about marital rape came up in my law school, too, in 1984. Could a woman be raped by her husband? The guys all said no–a woman got married, so she was consenting to sex at all times. So I turned it around. I asked them if, since a man had gotten married, that meant that his wife could shove a dildo or a stick or something up his ass any time she wanted to for HER sexual pleasure.

(Hey, I thought it was reasonable. If one gender was legally entitled to force sex on the other, then obviously the reverse should also be true.)

The male law students didn’t like the idea. Interestingly, they commented that being treated like that would make them feel like a woman.

My reaction was, “Thank you for proving my point…”

The concept of date rape, when first proposed, was considered laughable. If a woman went out on a date, the argument of legal experts ran, sexual consent was implied. Even more sickening was the fact that in some states–even in the early 1980s–a man could rape his daughter…and it was no worse than a misdemeanor.

Women taking self-defense classes in the 1970s and 1980s were frequently described in books and on TV as “cute.” The implication was that it was absurd for a woman to attempt to defend herself, but wasn’t it just adorable for her to try?

I was expressly forbidden to take computer classes in junior and senior years of high school–1978-79 and 1979-80–because, as the principal told me, “Only boys have to know that kind of thing. You girls are going to get married, and you won’t use it.”

When I was in college–from 1980 to 1984–there were no womens’ studies. The idea hadn’t occurred in many places because the presumption was that there was nothing TO study. My history professor–a man who had a doctorate in history–informed me quite seriously that women had never produced a noted painter, sculptor, composer, architect or scientist because…wait for it…womens’ brains were too small.

(He was very surprised when I came up with a list of fifty women gifted in the arts and science, most of whom he had never heard of before.)

When Walter Mondale picked Geraldine Ferraro as a running mate in 1984, the press hailed it as a disaster. What would happen, they asked fearfully, if Mondale died and Ferraro became president? What if an international crisis arose and she was menstruating? She could push the nuclear button in a fit of PMS! It would be the end of the WORLD!!

…No, they WEREN’T kidding.

On the surface, things are very different now than they were when I was a child, a teen and a young adult. But I’m afraid that people now do not realize what it was like then. I’ve read a lot of posts from young women who say that they are not feminists. If the only exposure to feminism they have is the work of extremists, I cannot blame them overmuch.

I wish that I could tell them what feminism was like when it was new–when the dream of legal equality was just a dream, and hadn’t even begun to come true. When “woman’s work” was a sneer–and an overt putdown. When people tut-tutted over bright and athletic girls with the words, “Really, it’s a shame she’s not a boy.” That lack of feminism wasn’t all men opening doors and picking up checks. A lot of it was an attitude of patronizing contempt that hasn’t entirely died out, but which has become less publicly acceptable.

I wish I could make them feel what it was like…when grown men were called “men” and grown women were “girls.”

Know your history.

So this, too, is what they mean saying “make America great again” and/or the good old days.

REBLOG FOREVER.

elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:

imtrying13:

toujours-fidele:

ask-the-egos:

mindfulwrath:

apricots-from-nara:

oni-queen:

sassenach-kiss:

let’s stop kidding ourselves, we all know the true otp is Jedediah and Octavius from Night At the Museum 

image

they quote gay movies

image

they watch cat videos on youtube 

image

they take selfies

image
image

I’m pretty sure they actually became canon in NatM3? 

image

come on there’s no way you can’t ship them

That last gif looks like Octavius was looking for a kiss, and well Jed misunderstood completely.

Being a homosexual in Octavius’ time was perfectly acceptable, which makes this all the more funny cause I think he thinks there can be something more, but Jeb is literally clueless as hell.

Cowboys in the Old West were also notoriously gay

MY TRUE OTP

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID IT

They both look like ‘shit I should’ve kissed him’ in the last gif…

they’re true gays because they’re both so fucking clueless they think the other one isnt interested

sleepwalkingdragon:

actual-dalish-mastermind:

dancinginthecenteroftheworld:

when-in-doubt-sing:

millennial-review:

I was waiting for the night bus at 1am the other night, eating fries, when a dude, high as fuck, tried to harass me. It took several “I don’t want to talk to you, please go away” for him to finally move, but I think it helped that another man was giving him the death stare and clicking his tongue at him. He then checked I was okay and whether I knew the guy or not. Good dude.

Shout out also the man who silently switched places with me on another night bus to be a buffer between me and a guy who had threatened me. Thank you

Men: this here? This here is what you need to be doing as allies. The men who harass and insult women are not likely to take our complaints about it seriously. But you, another man, they will listen to. 

I was pumping gas at like 10 PM one night, and these bunch of drunk guys came walking up to the gas station, and one of them yelled over to me if I wanted to see his dick.  His friend says to him, “You don’t have anything she wants to see.” and apologized.  It was pretty awesome.

this is all we want from men. to recognize the wrongs done by other men, and acknowledge it. not give us shitass defense like, “not all men do that”

catastrofries:

satirizing:

speaking of misogyny

let me tell you guys something that ACTUALLY happened in my screenwriting class last week

one of the female writers in our class is writing a feature about this gang of teenage girls who sort of become vigilantes and murder men who harass women (that’s a shitty logline of it but it’s actually fucking awesome and highly stylized and over-exaggerated like tarantino in a good way bc i fucking hate tarantino). ANYWAY their first kill is this guy named taylor. taylor is one of the girl’s boyfriends. it is heavily implied and the writer confirmed that he abuses and rapes her. not explicitly seen, but she has bruises, there are scenes implying it etc.

so. she wrote the part where they kill taylor. and one of my professor’s comments was about how he felt like he didn’t hate taylor enough.

to which me and my female friend were like um what?? we hate him. he fucking raped and abused her. wE HATE HIM. HE IS A HORRIBLE PERSON.

and my prof was like well yeah i hate him but i don’t HATE hate him. and we argued about it. so he took a poll of who hated taylor. ALL of the girls in the class raised their hands. none of the boys did. when he asked who didn’t hate taylor all of the men raised their hands. and me and my friend started laughing because of COURSE they did.

and my prof was like why are you laughing and the writer was like “i think they’re laughing at the gender difference in that answer” and my prof was like “well, from my male perspective, i don’t think i’m being sexist”

WHAT.

first of all did you hear that sentence at ALL do you understand how paradoxical it is?????

second of all, no. just no.

and then my prof went on to say “i feel like we need to see taylor be horrible. like bad solution, he kicks a dog”

evidently a man can abuse and rape a girl and not be hated, but if he kicks a dog then he’s PURE EVIL

and THAT is exactly what’s wrong with our society

image

Here are your 4 new best friends:

   “Okay.”
   “Wow.”
   “No.”
   CHILLY AWKWARD SILENCE

Them: [Bigoted remark]

You: Wow. [+ maybe one of the SPLC scripts to unpack it]

Them: “It’s manipulative if you say my bigoted remarks are not okay!”

You: “Okay.” + CHILLY AWKWARD SILENCE

Them: “There would be no problem if you just laughed.”

You: “No.” + CHILLY AWKWARD SILENCE

Them: “Your problem is that you have no sense of humor.”

You: “Okay.” + CHILLY AWKWARD SILENCE

Be a broken record. Let them be offended. Let them think you’re being manipulative. Don’t engage in detail or give them reasons. If they won’t stop or escalate, say “Welp, good to see you, time to go!” & get out of there. You don’t owe them continued access to your attention. Leave the conversation and try again another day.

Whatever you do, don’t smooth it over. Let it get super awkward. Be the party pooper at the bigot party. Get a reputation for being uptight and humorless and no fun.

People have a right to their opinions, speech, and votes. You have a right to think those opinions are crap and to think less of people when they spout them. Bigots think that “everyone” thinks as they do and that their views are “simple common sense.” What bigots are looking for when they say bigoted stuff to people who (as far as they know) share their race/class/orientation/disability status/etc. is solidarity and reassurance. Deny them this reassurance and solidarity. Deny them evidence that “everyone” thinks that way. That is your power here, and it’s a pretty big one, given the way your family throws a tantrum whenever you try to use it. You’re already doing the right stuff, now it’s just about holding the line and letting be as awkward as they are making it.