People against piracy fail to realize that no, I can’t just ‘buy it.’ They stopped making DVDs and Blu-Rays. They’re barely offering digital copies for download. I am not spending money I could use for food or bills to pay for a subscription service just so I can always have access to a beloved piece of media. Especially not when the service will remove media on a whim without concern for how the loss of access to that piece will make its artistic conservation nigh impossible.
For example, I recently learned that Disney+ had an original film called Crater. It’s scifi, family friendly, and seems cool - I would love to buy it as a holiday gift for my little brother! But: it’s exclusive to D+ and THEY REMOVED IT LITERALLY MONTHS AFTER ITS RELEASE.
The ONLY way I can directly access this film is through piracy. The ONLY available ‘copies’ of this film are hosted on piracy websites. Disney will NEVER release it in theaters, or as something to buy, and it may NEVER return to the streaming service. It will be LOST because we aren’t allowed to purchase it for personal viewing. If I can’t pay to own it, I won’t pay for the privilege of losing it when corporate decides to put it in a vault.
So yes, I’m going to pirate and support piracy.
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probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.
we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."
at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.
the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.
the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.
what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.
here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.
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Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)
Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.
He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)
Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.
(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)
So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!
Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.
With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.
Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!
It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.
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seriously though nothing can stop me from interpreting Real Life as canon just for how it progresses the canary curse situation. i'm obsessed with it. the curse gets broken in secret life and then in the very next "series", as much of a joke as it is, you get a situation like THAT. jimmy enters a mineshaft and everyone but him dies. not just his team, though obviously it's more significant because they were all red, but ren/martyn/skizz all get a mineshaft-death apiece. that canary's not doing his job anymore. he escaped his cage and made a break for the surface and everyone else is paying the price for it, and i for one could not be more proud of that little bird.
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Soap (who you’ve never met before ever in your life) being your server during an anniversary dinner with your long-time boyfriend except he took one look at you by the host stand and decided he had to have you.
Calls you “sweet thing” while he unwraps a straw and puts it in your water glass for you.
Asks if you’re out with your brother (without making eye contact with your boyfriend) and even after you told him no, he still ‘makes the mistake’ a few other times during the meal.
Stops over way more than is necessary. Probably has the kitchen intentionally screw up your appetizer so that when you bring it up he can make you feed him off of your fork. For quality control, of course. “Cannae have a sweet thing like you wasting the talents of a pretty mouth like that on something below par.”
Your boyfriend is pissed. Sends back his food twice and makes such a scene that the manager comes over. When he throws accusations of an “overly fucking friendly waiter,” you try to smooth the situation over by saying that everything was fine. Your boyfriend gets so riled that he throws a fistful of cash on the table and tells you it should cover his meal and your ride home.
Soap swoops in while you’re sobbing at the table. Slides in your side of the booth carrying a scoop of vanilla ice cream topped with an obscene amount of whipped cream and a cherry. Squashes you up against the wall while he coos kind things in your ear. Like he’s reading off a script meticulously chosen to include all of the right things that make you let down your guard enough to agree to let him drive you home.
“Wouldnae hear of you driving yourself home in this state, kitty.”
And once he finally gets you back to his, he goes in for the kill. Keeps saying the right things, keeps wrapping his arm around you and pulling you right into his side, keeps pushing his face close to yours. So much so that it almost feels like it’s your idea when you- still hiccuping and sniffling softly- lean forward and close the centimeters wide gap between you.
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"What thoughts crossed your mind at that moment? Did your life suddenly replay? What images did you see? Was I there? Because I saw my life flash before me knowing you won't be in it." - probably Simon Riley
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ladybug totally talks in her sleep. especially during patrol naps, when sleeping feels like a mix of dreaming and reality, and so a lot of her dreams during that time involve chat noir. out of nowhere she'll say 'chat what the fuck' and he turns around like ???? what did i do??? but she won't elaborate. or, most commonly, she'll just say 'are you okay??' out of nowhere. and he's like. 'yes??' and she wakes up a little and is so embarrassed. she was having a dream about an akuma fight and was so convinced she just saw him take a hit. when really he's just chilling on the rooftop next to her
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Ya'll want to know the funniest shit?
I'm researching the era when Alastor was alive right now to get a better idea of both his character, the life he lived before Hell, and to hash out a backstory for him.
And so, apparently, Alastor lived through the Prohibition (which was basically the United States government illegalizing the manufacture, transportation, and sale of alcohol because they thought it was the cause of a lot of domestic violence and child abandonment).
Alastor canonically died in 1933.
Do you know how long the Prohibition lasted?
From 1920-1933.
ALASTOR LITERALLY DIED THE SAME YEAR ALCOHOL BECAME LEGAL AGAIN. CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW BITTER HE MUST'VE BEEN?
The Prohibition officially ended on December 5, 1933, and now my headcanon is that Alastor died December 6, 1933. Literally the day after he could legally drink all the booze he wanted.
I am learning a LOT about New Orleans and the era Alastor lived through (including the gay community in the city at the time) which has been a lot of fun, and I just wanted to share that tidbit because it is so fucking funny to me.
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*shakes him*
(Wonderland au)
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feast (ID in alt)
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"Alright, here we go!" The bartender announces, leaning up to place the drinks on the bar.
"That's one whiskey, neat—" He says, sliding the lowball cocktail glass with amber liquid in front of Eddie.
"—And one Whammin' Slammin' Booty-Bangin' Pina Colada."
He places the extravagant cocktail in front of Steve. It's decorated to the nines with a straw, an umbrella, a piece of pineapple, and a little bit of tinsel on a toothpick. A whole party decoration in a drink.
"You guys have a good night." The bartender says warmly, already moving down the bar to tend to other customers.
Eddie stares down at the whiskey in the glass before him and pouts a little. Beside him and watching his boyfriend closely, Steve rolls his eyes.
"Oh, quit being dramatic," Steve says, sliding the cocktail across the bar so it's in front of Eddie, who had ordered it. He steals the glass of whiskey back at the same time.
"It happens every time."
"It happens most times."
"That isn't much better!" Eddie protests, even as he leans down and takes a long sip from the straw while they both get to their feet and leave the bar. Steve's hunting for a table they can snag, his eyes narrowed in focus. Eddie follows him blindly, his cocktail cupped in both hands.
"I'm serious, Steve! What is it about this adorable face—" He says, gesturing to himself, barely letting go of the straw to talk. It doesn't seem to faze him that Steve doesn't even glance back. "—Says I don't want to enjoy a Whammin' Bammin' Big Booty Colada?"
Steve comes to a stop, pausing his search for a moment to look back at Eddie. His expression seems unimpressed on the surface but Eddie can see his lips twitching up at the corners.
"We've had this conversation too many times, babe." He sighs halfheartedly and takes a quick sip of his own whiskey, eyes casting back out across the bar. "You have scary dog energy, you know this. You specifically dress like this on purpose."
Eddie picks up the pineapple wedged on the edge of his glass and bites into it, sending it down with another sip of his cocktail as Steve leads them further into the back of the bar. He finally spots a spare empty table.
"C'mon, I think I found one." Steve urges, one hand snaking back to make sure Eddie's following.
"Is it a crime to wish to not fall victim to stereotypes?" Eddie prattles on, following Steve duly by slipping his hand into Steve's outstretched one. His cocktail wobbles precariously as he takes another gulp.
"Like when that waitress gave me your awful black coffee! And you got my delicious delicacy that I paid extra hard-earned money for..."
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i like to think that when steve and eddie go out, people always lean into their assumptions and are like hmm ok preppy boy with the polo? oh he gets the fruity cocktail! and eddie is always like >:( i don't want this expensive puddle of piss gimme the bonanza supreme cocktail pls. like excuse me i paid for that.
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thug beatdown round 2: electric boogaloo
(extras, cw flashing gif:)
alt:
the fit:
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Idea that wouldn't leave my head, like many others
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i think i need a lobotomy
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