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#don’t worry they’re involved
finndoesntwantthis · 2 years
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Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you…professional wrestling.
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nationalnerdsociety · 10 months
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reminder that famous people are also just some guy, don’t put them on pedestals, be aware that they are not perfect and remember, men ain’t shit
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nsfwarros · 4 months
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In light of the recent wardrobe malfunction art, would Cas eventually get a lightbulb moment and suggest to Gortash that he "help" his poor tailor out by taking Gorty's measurements himself to "save time" with absolutely no ulterior motives of say, groping or petty teasing on Cas' part?
Do you think Gortash would avoid that obvious trap or walk right into it willingly?
ough u know I don’t think Cas would put that much effort into it especially since he can kinda just. do what he pleases so I’ve always imagined a smiliar but slightly different scenario where he just makes sure to be present at all of these appointments🔥 Probably threatens the tailor into joining his little play and makes him speak what everyone’s thinking but not daring to say just to see both Gortash’s face but also the tailor literally scared shitless…. then spends the rest of the appointment poking and groping Gortash to additionally make the tailor’s job horrendous. Every time he makes up a different thing to tease him about he goes “Don’t you agree, tailor?😽” as he watches the poor guy squirm and deciding if he’d rather take Gortash’s or Cas’ disapproval
Anyways on a similar note to your other question though, I don’t think Cas’ teasing in any way would be enough to make him not do certain things, if that makes sense? Like I don’t think it even makes him insecure because he’s smart enough to realize that Cas has a big mouth but at the end of the day still gives him attention for all of those things and clearly doesnt hate them
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magical-xirl-4 · 5 months
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To go in depth about what bothers me about Kyosaya is that we never see what Sayaka’s feelings on Kyoko are romantically and we never see how she even develops them in the first place. It’s why I hate that scene in Rebellion because it just seems like pure fan service with no proper set up. We KNOW Kyoko cares for Sayaka and most likely has romantic feelings mixed in there (also an ass pull but she’s gay so it’s understandable), but when and WHY did Sayaka even come to reciprocate those feelings for her? What does she like about Kyoko?
We know where Kyoko’s feelings towards Sayaka comes from: Kyoko sees herself in Sayaka and is reminded of when she was a child who believed in hope, but it’s also not a stretch to say that she saw Mami in Sayaka as well, which is why she holds a fondness for her.
So what about Sayaka? Why does she want to be friends with Kyoko? They were about to be friends before she died in Madoka’s new world but we never have any follow up about that.
And don’t tell me it’s shown in the Wraith Arc bc the entire premise of it being made AFTER Rebellion annoys me too. Whatever they have written for them in that arc is just going to be nothing but excuses for me; like why that scene in Rebellion even went the way it did, why she even regretted leaving Kyoko behind. Because from what we know in the TV series, going by RELEASE ORDER, she didn’t give two fucks about Kyoko.
Sure, it’s probably better late than never to develop them when they have time to, but idk maybe show me that in the movie a lil before getting to a weirdly intimate scene where she essentially confesses to Kyoko.
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lovedeluxe92 · 1 month
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my client was trying to talk shit and spent the entire day telling on my coworker for little things. i mean, like really stupid little things that really don’t matter. just that she took a 5 min phone call. so she kept trying to talk to me about it and i was finally just like: i can’t get in the middle of this, im sorry. i’m uncomfortable and i professionally cannot speak about other clients, management, or staff. and that shut her up lol
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pepprs · 2 years
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the absolutely UNBEARABLE ordeals of a) having nothing new to contribute to this intersection bc ppl already found it and all the scholars have already said everything im saying and b) knowing that on top of this my contributions are lackluster because i am stupid and profoundly mentally ill 🥰
#purrs#prof ******: this is just an undergraduate project and it’s only the beginning so don’t stress yourself out. me being besties with ***** and#**** and constantly feeling like i have to amount to their caliber and also them being my faculty mentors on this project meaning they have#to grade it and also me drawing from like 5 things they wrote to use in my own thing and also having *****’s voice in my head abt the advice#he got writing his dissertation and knowing that i am NOT writing a dissertation but also im doing something that is that big for me at this#stage of my life: 🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠🤠 and they would be HORRIFIED if they knew i have this imposter syndrome about them specifically and this is#what prof brown warned me about in nov 2020 and i had like 5 breakdowns over it but still went on ahead and now every time i do anything i f#feel like im chaining all my limbs to the wall and splaying out my stomach and saying hi nice sharp talons you got there i sure do look very#much like prey right now jsut a thought. bc they’re supposed to be helping me fly and they are it’s just i am so deeply mentally ill about#needing to be on their level even though im an undergrad LMFAOOOO but also i am on their level but also im not. everyone who knows me irl an#is reading this post: 🤨🙄 but like yeahhhjjj naur i uhjmmmm. like it’s all gonna get better once i graduate and have at least one degree in t#this and finally get to start contributing to the literature alongside these fucking pioneers and titans of this field but right now it’s li#like how dare i even bother and i have felt that way for years and it’s kinda terrible that i still feel it. but also my entire existential#situation rn explains it so 💖 but yeah. anyway i feel like i am sticking a fork in a socket rn with this project and it makes me want to not#exist but it will be fine and it will be over soon but im losing my mind w overwhelm and distress rn LOL but also i am normal and it’s nothi#nothing to worry about bc this too shall pass and im on the verge of getting better 🙏🏻💕#DELETE LATER#very cringe of me to post abt this stuff to all my mutuals and not like talk to the ppl directly involved in the situation to try to make it#better but i don’t have the capacity for that rn and frankly neither do they LMFSOOOOOOO
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sodapopmermaid · 11 hours
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anyone have ideas on fun stuff to do to hair before you shave/buzz it all off?
my hair is too short to donate, but I’m thinking of mixing up some koolaid and letting the kids paint my hair? or maybe cutting it at weird uneven lengths or something? Ideas welcome!
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tanjir0se · 22 days
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Sometime I should draw out the incredibly complicated relationship triangle of my KNY modern au because I think all adult friends should just fuck each other every now and again. Keeps the ecosystem healthy. And also because I can’t choose which ships I like best and therefore will include them all so help me god
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i think the fact that court hearings are now available to access to the public is generally a bad idea due to safety issues combined with the vouyeristic nature of it all…..but i have to say…it iiiiiissss a great learning tool for those of us that will likely need to be dragged into (and have some level of understanding of) the court system’s inner workings for our professions
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xxang3l-trapxx · 4 months
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Maybe I should’ve been born a boy. Maybe then my family would take me seriously when I spoke about politics.
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youretoosweetforme · 5 months
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These alternatives are looking better and better
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flanarchy · 8 months
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ew-selfish-art · 8 months
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Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent. 
When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried. 
Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown. 
Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’. 
Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)
THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on. 
That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him. 
They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance. 
Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air. 
And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears. 
“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching  at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet. 
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laundrybiscuits · 8 months
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(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)
Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 
“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 
He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”
“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”
“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 
Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”
“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”
“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”
Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”
The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.
“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 
“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”
———
It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  
“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”
“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”
“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.
“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.
“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”
“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”
“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.
“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 
“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”
Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 
“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”
“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 
“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”
“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”
“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”
“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”
“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”
“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”
“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”
Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”
“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.
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Breakfast Time
My son’s stuck in a time loop again.
He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.
I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.
The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.
The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”
“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:
How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?
As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.
Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.
What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?
They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.
Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.
Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?
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