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#got me a car
post-futurism · 2 years
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Got offered the job 💃 am officially senior heritage planner 💅
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#selfie bee#good evening friends!! how are you doing! C:#I'm very very sleepy I got a new ikea office chair and I build it all myself#I think it went okay! I don't think I pulled the back screw tight enough and now the back is a bit loose#I can probably fix it but I can also ignore it for the next 18 years#thats how long the old chair held up!! in germany it could now drink vodka and drive a car!!#not at the same time that is illegal! not at the same time!! (❁´▽`❁)*✲゚*#but the day is not over yet my uncle asked me for a big art quest and I do not want to disappoint#he wants a muppet tattoo and asked me to draw it#my uncle has started to get tattoos a few months ago#as far as I know he has now gotten 3 note clefs 3 stars a flower and multiple birds#he also started getting piercings but so far I managed not to know exactly where#I think tattoos are super cool (´。・v・。`) I wish I had a good idea for a tattoo but the last time I was very sure about getting a tattoo#it was heath ledgers face as the joker#at that point I was 12 and would not see the actual movie for two more years#a muppet tattoo is a way better idea!! he asked for the count van count! that is also one of my top 3 muppets ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡#I always thought I knew a lot about muppet lore but since I started looking up muppet pictures I think there are still a lot of secrets#can the muppets from the Sesame Street actually leave the Sesame Street?#I think Kermit is both on the Muppet Show and on Sesame Street but he is also like the boss muppet#he might have special abilities#I hope you're having a good day friends!! C:#I think I'll post a Sherlock comic later this week#miss you!! ♥♥♥
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despite-everything · 2 years
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just found the funniest stickers to put on my car
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cowardlykrow · 2 months
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Stop light shenanigans
Extra:
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inkskinned · 3 months
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there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"
barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.
there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."
do people give a shit now, though?
barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."
1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."
hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?
women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.
and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?
in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."
(right?)
on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.
you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.
but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.
surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.
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columbo says remember to take ur t shots ♥️
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(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)
When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.
It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.
"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."
"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."
"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."
"Eddie, c'mon-"
"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."
He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.
"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"
"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."
"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."
Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."
"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."
"No."
Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-
"Eddie? Gareth?"
Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.
"What are you doing here?" she asks.
Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:
"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."
She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.
"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."
Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?
"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"
She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."
His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.
"You're annoying."
He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…
It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.
His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…
"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.
"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."
"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."
She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.
"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"
Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!
"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"
"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.
(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)
Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"
"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"
"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."
"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.
She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."
Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…
Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.
"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"
Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.
"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"
"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"
Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."
Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."
"I had stuff I needed to drop off."
"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."
Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.
Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.
"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"
Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?
"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"
Holyshityesitis!
"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."
"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"
"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!
"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.
Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."
"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."
Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.
They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.
The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.
The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."
"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"
Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.
"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.
Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.
"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.
This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.
"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.
Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."
"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.
"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.
"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.
Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."
"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."
He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.
(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)
Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.
"I figured out where I've seen you before."
Eddie stiffens.
Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"
"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"
Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.
"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"
"November," Steve confirms, muffled.
"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."
Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.
"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"
"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!
"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."
"All parents do," Lucas says.
Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"
Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."
That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.
And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…
All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.
Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.
The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:
"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"
"Huh?"
"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."
The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.
"Yes, it is," Gareth says.
"It's not," Max says.
"It is!"
"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"
She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.
Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."
"Yes, it was."
"How do you know?"
She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.
Gareth screams, "WHAT!"
"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"
She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."
"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"
"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"
She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"
Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?
Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.
Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"
"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.
Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."
"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.
Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.
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Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,
I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.
Thank you for reading 🖤
Part 4
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cozylittleartblog · 15 days
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here comes the boy ~ hello boy ✨
cleaned up a couple of the vash doodles i did while learning to draw him :)
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valberryventi · 4 months
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racer diluc telling you "don't worry, i'll be careful," and kissing your forehead before a race
racer diluc spotting you in the crowd and putting his fingers to his lips before signing it back to you. he'll wink if he's feeling flirty
racer diluc, when not in a game and just Normally Driving, picks you up from college/work and drops you home. you get some jealous stares but it just fuels your ego
racer diluc showing up in yet another sports car (you swore it was a bugatti last time) to pick you up for a date. he tells you to wear clothes he bought for you, and he's such a gentleman that he buckles your seatbelt himself so he can say, "hold tight, baby," in your ear as he kisses your cheek
racer diluc holds your hand whenever there's a red light (or when the traffic slows) because he doesn't want to risk your safety if he drives with one hand even if he can (you find it hot, to which he chuckles at, but you're too precious for him. after all, he can be hot every other time... hehe)
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russellius · 8 days
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2024 CHINESE GP Sprint Qualifying : P11
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fiendpact · 5 months
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20 Tav QOTDs
a compilation of questions i’ve seen on twitter + ones i’ve come up with myself <3 can be used as an ask game or as a daily game!
what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)
what would their blood taste like to vampires?
how would they kiss their LI?
how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?
what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?
if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?
do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?
if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?
if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?
do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?
what are their thoughts on clowns?
their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?
what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?
do they have any inside jokes among their companions?
what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?
what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?
how do they celebrate their birthday?
what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?
do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?
if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?
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drksnctury · 10 months
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im gonna be honest, out of all the hozier songs, i didnt anticipate for Take Me to Church would be the one on Crowley’s playlist
im so normal abt this
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inkskinned · 8 months
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we heard that you were very disappointed in us both as a generation and specifically as a generation of women (emphasis yours), how we had let ourselves go and now we were slutty and ill-tempered and holding onto notions of feminism like "having a savings account" and "equality."
we were very sorry about it, we didn't realize. it is very hard for you, in your life, because your entire definition was centered around the word providing, and that's a really vague and undulating word. it is hard to be a provider. for your purposes, the word provider here can be defined as "having a job", although it sometimes also extends to "doing yard work", "grilling on occasion," and "knowing basic car anatomy."
we had to do some reading but we divided it out. do not worry. high-value women will fill in the rest of the gaps of your life - all those silly feminine things like doing the dishes. we didn't realize we had asked too much when we asked you to pick up after yourself. we did not realize you were rendered small and scared and crying about the possibility of doing the laundry. here is a joke to lighten the sentiment: a man that listens when you talk to him.
we heard about how we had fallen from glory and it sickened us and made us very, very sad. lindsey had to cut all her hair off and tara threw up. we lit one million candles and we are going to have a vigil about it tonight. all of the people in this world that you do not approve of are going to be there and we will all be in mourning colors because we have lost your respect which is of course the only thing that any of us were looking for.
we searched around our bedrooms and our closets and for some of us it took a while but we all found the pricetag that we were originally born with, the one that gave our listing offer, the one that smells like rot and pine needles. we were horrified because many of us had taken deductions and hadn't realized it. i had scraped my knees and decided to be a lesbian so they had to take my voicebox out so i could never call home again. janice had been with too many people overall so we had to put her into the big squisher that will hopefully collapse her walls so that when you're with her, you'll feel so big and powerful. it will be like you're conquering something instead of being close with someone.
we are all going to the funeral of feminism and we will tear at our bodies and fall over ourselves. we will invite you onstage for a live recording of your podcast about the occasional minor inconvenience of self-reflection. you will talk about how we have targeted you and made you feel the sweat slick down your back, and we will teach you basic self-defense out of solidarity.
do not worry, we are seeing to all the outliers. taylor asked to be taken seriously so we have shipped her off to prison. laura asked you to accept her femininity regardless of her presentation. you will be happy to hear all women are now and forever going to have to be small and thin and pretty and white and ablebodied and quiet and unassuming and ladylike, which is different than how society has previously told us to act.
i am going to have to shave off my jawline, which is a little masculine, and they are going to have to reshape my hands, which are very square and thick - all the work i've done with them has made their veins stand out, so we're just going to have to exsanguinate me. i am horrified to have been out in public like this.
we are going to sit around the campfire and we will talk about being weird little girls that made potions in pink teacups. we will talk about the first time we made a difference. we will talk about the private lives of crickets, and then, at the stroke of three in the morning (the witching hour, obviously) - we will all promptly shut up.
and this will be your beautiful world. this silence that spans every corner of every street and every zoom meeting and every alley. i do not think you'll notice at first - it will be the same as every television show and movie and book. we will all just simply sit there in our doll dresses and smile blithely at your advances and none of us will do you the dishonor of answering and none of us will appear to be in distress and none of us will nag you or make a fuss or get hysterical about it. it will just be quiet, and you will say finally, some peace for once! and we will smell of smoke and our teeth will be white and the next day will come.
tonight we are going to bury the last little bits of our humanity. you are not invited. it is going to be ugly.
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quarter-lif3crisis · 2 months
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F1 x The Internet [Pt 2/?]
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navajja · 3 months
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I watched Hasbin with my friend, we complained about some stuff and i ended up making some redesigns probably so far from reality that they could easily be my ocs. But HEY I have been having a lot of fun playing around with their designs, do u ever see a character and ur like "how come ur not a fat man?" That's how i feel about husker. Anyway, enjoy 💕🕷️
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mothmore · 6 months
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on my knees sobbing crying throwing up thinking about the love and kindness and friendship between the dracula main characters
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