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#who else they got on there?
hopeymchope · 1 year
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Let's say — hypothetically — someone DOES NOT want to support Netflix, but DOES want to watch some of their stand-up comedy specials.
.............
Like, is there a cure for that?
I've heard about resources for lots of different kinds of streaming content. Movies, anime, TV series, whatever. It's crazy how much y'all have found out there on the webz.
Never seen ANY resource like those for stand-up comedy, though. Which is interesting.
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erzvolnes · 9 days
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theshadowrealmitself · 7 months
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I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them
People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human
“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”
“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”
“Yeah!!”
“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”
“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“
“How illogical”
“That’s what I’m saying!!!”
#star trek#Vulcans#Humans#not based on a specific thing#but I used to know this annoying couple that were ‘family friends’#who would show up to potluck dinners and the like and would either bring nothing or bring something really just. out of left field?#like a bag of frozen chicken to a bbq#and then proceed to make sure they are first even if it was stated to let kids go first#would take HUGE amounts before anyone else got a chance to get a plate#and then make off with the leftovers again even if they were already claimed for#and it wasn’t a food insecurity thing trust me I would never speak bad about a person getting food if that was even a remote chance#the adults who raised us knew them really well and we’d been to their house a ton of times#they were just dicks#and yeah. they’d occasionally insult the food. while eating the MAJORITY of it.#it was so weird at their home they would go out of their way to get the healthiest options possible#you know the really bland tasteless expensive stuff that apparently was healthier#but then if they were visiting our house they would. eat all our unhealthy snacks.#that always pissed me off so much as a kid because we actually had a food insecurity thing going on#and also a variety of other reasons that are a bit too depressing to bring up on this post#but anyways we’d hardly ever get to have nice snacks#and this couple would just take them all??? even after we’d tell them repeatedly that it was ours and those snacks weren’t gonna be#replaced#hated that couple#if you’re wondering why they were ‘family friends’ it’s because the couple who raised us#(it feels weird to type it out like that but apparently legal guardians doesn’t fit since they never finished petitioning 💀)#liked having them around because it made them look like ‘such great Christian’s’ being nice to the people#that no one else wanted to be friends with#I always thought that was a really weird and fucked up reason to be friends with someone#this got long sorry 😭
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keymintt · 10 months
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a comic/zine about coyotes
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munsons-mutiny · 2 months
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One of my favorite trope for Steddie is Steve hunting down Eddie when the kids join Hellfire and giving him a long list of dos and donts.
At first Eddie thinks he’s just being a prick, and worried he’s going to turn the nerds into freaks like him. Especially when he says not to mention drugs in front of Dustin.
But then he starts pulling out lists of monsters that can’t be in campaigns. And like what??? Why can’t he use demagorgons? They were gonna be in the next combat! He’s tempted to ignore the warnings, in fact he’s all set to, but something about Steve’s face when he was laying it all out haunts him. Something so deadly serious about it. So first he decides to test the waters to see if he’s full of shit.
When the session starts, he makes a throwaway comment, “you’re acting like there’s a mindflayer around the corner.”
All the kids freeze but Wheeler especially looks like he’s going to be sick. He even grabs at the bracelet around his wrist. The one he always said his best friend made him before he moved.
Eddie curses himself for even trying to test it out after that, and immediately bullshits the whole session so he can scrap any hint of demogorgans from the campaign.
After that session he drives straight to Harringtons house and demands they go over all the things he can’t include again, in detail, while he takes notes.
He doesn’t know what’s going on with these freshmen, but he knows trauma when he sees it and well he’d gotten attached to the gremlins.
When he leaves that night, he thinks Steve is looking at him with approval. Like he trusts him with their well-being now.
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b0nelessdoodles · 4 months
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tfw you're three deep in anchordeep and you get the notif that you're baby has been neglected so you turn into a speedrunner to get home
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bixels · 23 days
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Scary Sunset.
I'm concepting things way outta order in this story, but I'm sure you can piece things together. Context is for a storybeat where, after defeating and capturing Adagio (thus having all three sirens in her possession), Sunset enacts her revenge plot to release the sirens on Canterlot as Thea discovers she's been manipulated. In a confrontation, the two scuffle and fight over the siren orbs while Sunset struggles with her conflicting wants and emotions.
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paponela · 1 year
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how long do you think he took to figure it out
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egophiliac · 9 months
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starting off with an amuse-bouche of some of my initial favorite bits! y'all, this update was WILD.
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poll-palace · 1 year
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Hi! Just wanted to say that I love your art! You're probably one of my favorite artists right now :) I especially love when you pair Movie Mike and Game Vanessa. Their dynamic is silly :)
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Vanny is doing her best to make a friend,,
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bluerosefox · 1 month
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Fenton Coded
Tim... Tim just stared.
He...
Huh.
He had once entertained the idea that he wasn't really a Drake, a very long time ago when he overheard his mom and dad arguing and some words were said in the heat of the moment, but to be honest Tim always thought the obvious culprit of anyone being his dad would most likely be Bruce (Bruce even admitted he had a small fling with his mother but that was two years before her marriage)
But before little Tim's curiosity could really take hold on the idea, he had saw on the news Robin performing a Grayson flip and the hint of Tim not being a Drake left his mind. Robin was Dick Grayson! And if he was Robin that had to mean Bruce Wayne was Batman!
Then well... his stalking of the Bats started and the rest became history.
But now, as Tim was staring at his own DNA test, something he never bothered to do until that damned Demon brat wanted to make sure he was ONLY blood son of Bruce (and doing a DNA test something even Bruce never thought of doing due to well… how he was towards Tim during his first months as Robin)
He well…
He kinda needs to find out who this Daniel Jackson Fenton is.
(Tim finds out he isn’t a Drake, but also not a Wayne (because Damian wanted to make sure he was only blood son) but is instead a Fenton)
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chrollohearttags · 4 months
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meg baby, I promise we’ll all look the other way if you decide to strangle that chimera ant built bitch. I promise we won’t say nothing.
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undertalethingems · 5 months
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Unexpected Guests Chapter Ten, Act Two: Page 10
First / Previous / Next
3-on-1 would normally be quite an unfair fight, but so far, Gaster's proven to be more than capable of taking what's been dealt... but the battle's far from over and our heroes still have plenty of fighting spirit!
The long fight continues next time, coming Jan. 11th!
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nakajimaas · 5 months
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everybody moved on but i stayed here
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Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 
It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 
And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 
The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.
They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 
There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 
And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 
So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 
And maybe they are, especially Astarion.
But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  
When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 
Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 
They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…
That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 
Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 
No, those people know nothing at all...
“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.
The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 
Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 
By now, he knows every step of this game.
“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.��
Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 
Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 
“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 
“Want apple!”
Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 
“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 
The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 
She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.
Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.
“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…
The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 
Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 
Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 
But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.
Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 
The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 
He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.
“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.
Astarion pauses.
He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 
By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.
And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 
He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 
Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 
He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 
These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.
He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.
It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 
Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 
After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.
And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 
“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 
When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.
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