#a bit hysterical

[geezerwench]

So funny "1st FEMALE" president yet no one can tell what a female is! brain falling off their skulls

How dare they to assume she identifies as a woman!??? That's so insulting you all are hurting this poor person's feelings!

(High pitch screaming until I turn red) HER CHOICE!

Calm down, sweetie pie. No need to get all hysterical and screamy.

Kamala Harris has referred to herself as a woman.

She has referred to herself as being of Indian and Black descent. Her mother was Indian, her father was a Black man from Jamaica. The Republicans really seem to be having a very difficult time comprehending the fact she is biracial. They can't wrap their little pea brains around that.

If she ever did a 23 and Me or an Ancestry DNA test, there could possibly be some other ethnicities in there and then their little tiny pea brains might explode.

It's very simple. All you have to do is LISTEN to the person you are concerned with and you'll find out all kinds of things about them!

As an alternative, you could READ articles about her and find out that way!

Isn't that nice? See how easy that was? Nothing to get all upset about.

To recap: Kamala Harris has identified herself as a biracial, Black and Indian, woman.

[adhd-languages]

In the Spanish Gravity Falls dub, the “My ex-wife still misses me..but her aim is getting better!”

Is translated as “My ex-esposa todavía me quiere…¡me quiere matar!”

Roughly translating to “My ex-wife still wants me… wants me dead!”

[poorlydrawninstarsandtime]

an extremely normal heart to heart between two very mentally stable fellas.

[ids in alt]

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

All cards on the table.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[versias]

Demon Twins AU

- Maddie was trained by the League of Assassins and was sent back to America to pursue her theory that Lazarus water was ectoplasmic residue. She joined the only paranormal studies course in the country and met likeminded scientists Jack Fenton and Vlad Masters.

- Maddie fell in love with Jack and they pursued their research together, attempting to break into the “ghost zone”, the hypothetical in-between where the energy of death collected in order to collect pure ectoplasm samples. (And possibly capture a ghost for study.)

- They Sort-Of succeeded (sorry Vlad but science marches on) and Maddie proved ectoplasm and Lazarus water were related. LoA allowed her to stay and continue her research, providing her with funding so long as she sent reports. Occasionally she had to do a mission since she was in the area, but it was usually simple and low stakes.

- Then, when Jazz is 2 years old, Maddie is called back to the League to witness the birth of the Demon’s Heirs. The babies were grown in LW using her data so she basically has to become a physician for the babies.

- The younger twin’s heart stopped when he was pulled out of the water. She rushed to save him, using pure ectoplasm from her research and it worked. Even though Danyal is deemed the inferior twin, he’s kept alive and trained to act as a benchmark/motivation for the true heir Damian.

- Maddie falls in love with the little boy whose health she’s in charge of. Talia notes that this researcher cares for her child as if it was her own.

- When Ra’s decides to have Danny and Damian duel as a sort of initiation and trial to prove his worth as the heir (something that leaves psychological scars on both Danny and Damian, thanks Ra’s.), Damian kills Danny and Maddie is devastated over the body.

- Talia grabs her and the body and sneaks them into the Lazarus pits to bring her child back. Then she hands Danny to Maddie and tells her to raise him as her own, protect him as her own, and she will erase Maddie’s debt to the league.

- Maddie runs with her new son back to America and tells her family that the job she had is completed and “hey Jack sorry I forgot to mention our son I was so caught up in my work! Yeah, whenever I visited five years ago I got pregnant and forgot to mention it! Whoopsie daisy!”

- Jack believes this because he’s forgetful sometimes and also why would his lovely, beautiful, brilliant wife lie to him. He welcomes five year old Danny into his life as his son despite him only superficially looking like him and for some reason having much darker skin. Who knows, genetics isn’t his area of expertise!

- Besides even if Maddie lied to him she probably had a good reason! He’s always wanted a son anyway!!

- Jazz is far more suspicious of this but she’s all of seven and also this poor kid looks terrified and traumatized so. She’ll let it go. And also help him settle in, as is right for a Big Sister.

- Danny has psychological and physical scars but grows up loved and cared for. He misses his brother, but he wasn’t worthy to stand beside him—grandfather said so and it must be so. He didn’t want to be a weight on his brother’s neck, dragging him down

- He makes friends with Tucker and then Sam who don’t judge him for strange mannerisms and who like him for who he is.

- Maybe it’s not the life he would have chosen for himself, but it is a good life. He decides he can be happy here in Amity Park, secure in the knowledge that his brother was off conquering and thriving.

- Then Maddie and Jack finish the Portal, which would theoretically allow travel into the Ghost Zone to continue their work. The pinhole fractures they can now reliably create to power weapons and technology prove the theory and this is the next step!

- Danny Dies In The Portal and a hole is ripped open between worlds. DP series takes place as normal!

- Mixed Reveal since Maddie and Jack are researchers first and foremost. They don’t want to hurt their children but they want to study! They capture a different ghost so they can learn more about how the anatomy works, because they need to take care of their half-ghost son.

- Danny is appalled and horrified to find them dissecting some struggling specter. They are so fucking earnest about it, trying to tell him that they want to make sure they understand how he’s put together so if he gets hurt they can help and it’s not like they can Kill ghosts so it’s only a temporary necessity in pursuit of knowledge!!

- Danny releases the ghost and later, steals their research and destroys the portal. He flees. He knows they won’t hurt him but he thought they wouldn’t Do That either and they did so he’s terrified.

- Danny’s friends help him escape and set up a fake id and passport. His plan is to get to Gotham and find the Bat who will hopefully be able to Adult this situation. He’s not expecting to be welcomed as his son; by all accounts the Batman has no idea Talia even made children with his DNA so he isn’t even going to mention being his son.

- Meanwhile Damian has been Robin for four years and slowly adjusting to his new normal. He doesn’t think about his dead brother; he isn’t allowed to, and though he’s left the league, the league has not left him entirely.

- He is patrolling with his father when an unknown teenager flags them down. Batman is suspicious of course but the kid seems to be earnestly calling for help. He has Robin hang back out of caution and approaches the unknown himself.

- Holy Fuck He Looks Like Damian

- He doesn’t act like a clone or anything. He has an impressively obvious midwestern accent and uses slang like a typical teen. He tells him, a little hysterically, about his parents being scientists and the fucking portal to hell they opened in their basement, about finding them experimenting on an inter-dimensional being that may or may not be an actual human spirit, and briefly details taking his sisters car across four states in a manic road trip to find the Batman.

- Batman is like, why me? There are closer heroes. Why not call the justice league hotline?

- “Hoo boy Mr. Batman see the thing is Amity Park is Dangerous and full of ghosts so I didn’t want metas showing up where they’d get overshadowed and I’d have to? Like? Fight a possessed Superman or something.”

- Why would you be the one fighting??

- Danny is impressively bad at keeping his mouth shut about secrets but to be fair, he’s meeting his father for the first time and the Batman is super cool and intimidating and also he’s remembering his mom and his brother and that’s reminding him of his new family and how everything has probably irreparably fallen apart and oh no

- Oh no he’s crying in front of Batman. Oh fuck, he’s sobbing in front of his father and this is his first impression. Oh ancients he’s never gonna want anything to do with Danny after this mess and it’s not like he was going to say anything but apparently there was this small hope at the bottom of his heart that he’d be welcomed and loved. That somehow his Father would just know this was his son and hug him and make everything better.

- Batman is awkwardly trying to decide if he wants to risk hugging a dangerous unknown, unstable possible-meta-adjacent teenager while he’s having a breakdown on a rooftop when Robin lands next to him and says something that freezes the blood in Bruce’s veins:

- “Brother?”

[racecrafting]

I touched home soil after my trip to Greece to the announcement of this news. I’ve been compartmentalizing my feelings as best as I can so that I don’t grieve a living person, but the jet lag and dehydration had me up at 3am with tears streaming down my face. I won’t ever love a driver the way I love Daniel. I don’t think it’s possible, but also I won’t allow myself to care this much again. I try to think about the humorous positives of a millionaire kicking back at his farm or the peace in knowing he won’t be scooped out by lecherous pundits and he can finally return home. But then I remember him at 17, in that decrepitly furnished Italian apartment, watching an old Australian film so he wouldn’t lose his accent — because to dream in some ways is to sacrifice in others. And him going to meet Helmut Marko and stepping into a fountain because he was so distracted by the opulence of the building. Wet sneakers squelching all the way there. And I think of him disposing of his racing boots and sauntering around the asphalt paddock with his too thin socked feet like one does in their own home, comfortable and radiant with the joy of winning again. Is that not a return home?

And I think about how graciously he left in 2022 after doing donuts in some dark part of the track — away from prying eyes. And I think about Singapore now, how it ended with a whisper of all things. 13 years in this sport. Jenson said before that Daniel wasn’t used to this kind of loss because he’s always been the golden boy. I’ll always feel hurt about how he’s been misrepresented as a fool or jester in the paddock when he’s the reason so many of us found this sport. He has made this sport lighter with his willingness to give so much of himself. And it’s difficult to think about how he wasn’t ready to leave, how he sat in the cockpit and left the track last because he wasn’t ready to part with a sport he said he’s loved his whole life. I hope he takes time to be with those he loves most, and I hope he enjoys time away from the callous flash of a lens or intrusion of a mic. But the thing about Daniel is he’s mesmerizing, you can’t feed gold back into the dirt once it’s been held under the radiance of daylight.

[u3pxx]

i had to search up cooking/food-related pictures of these three for this isn't that fun. also i want EXPLANATIONS in the tags i want ARGUMENTS i want STRONG OPINIONS about who can fry the most PERFECT egg i want FIGHTING i want to go LAY DOWN AND SLEE

[priscirat]

do you remember, how you fell in love

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: before the nightingale sings

---------

for my batdad blood blossom au, the one where Vlad poisoned Danny with blood blossom extract and Danny ran away from him and ended up tumbling into the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman :). A quick oneshot telling the tale of the tragic deaths of the Fentons

TW: Major Character Death Warning

-------

Not all deaths are created equal.

That is a valuable lesson in life to learn. One that Danny learns when he is eleven years old, standing in the pit of his parents’ creation; the culmination of their life’s work. The portal to the other side, the realm of the dead. To the infinite. 

He learns that when he’s eleven years old, in a hazmat suit that sags on him, and boots that clunk when he walks because the only ones that fit are his mom’s, and even those are too big. In gloves that he has to clench his fists in because otherwise they fall off. In goggles that slide down his nose even when he’s tightened them the farthest they can go. 

He learns that when he’s eleven years old, choking on giggles that harmonize with the laughter of his friends’ who stand at the mouth of the tunnel. Sam’s holding a polaroid in her hand. They’re just being kids. 

They’re not laughing when Danny’s hand hits the safety lock — the one with faulty wiring, the only one in the tunnel. The only one he could possibly hit. They’re not laughing when the portal buzzes to life, and the lights inside switch on row by row as the generator begins to rumble and hum. 

They’re not laughing when Danny dies. They’re screaming. They’re not screaming when he comes back.

Not all deaths are created equal.  

Some are poetic, beautiful. The satisfying close of a book as it comes to an end, of the hardback thumping soft against the pages like the sound of a door closing. A train run its course.

Some are violent; unsatisfying; unfair. The unexpected shattering of an egg as it rolls off the countertop when nobody is looking, the unmistakable crack as it falls to the floor. It is abrupt and messy. 

But most are just… unremarkable. Unintentional. Clumsy. 

Danny’s family dies one night in late January. He is thirteen years old, barely a month away from fourteen. It is unforeseen. It is preventable. It happens. 

It happens like this: 

Their water heater breaks one Monday in January. It’s old, sitting in the garage, and has dealt with nearly sixteen years of Fenton-grade chaos and shenanigans. Of parents tossing scraps and junk into the garage as brief storage to come back to later. Of illegal tune-ups on their vehicles that result in something exploding. Of little children running around and knocking things over, playing with poles and sticks they find on the ground, on the shelves. Of being lived and used.  

Something had to give. 

Jack Fenton notices it immediately when he comes upstairs that very afternoon — his children at school, his wife downstairs — to grab something from the garage. The very same scrap and used material they store like squirrels to use later. 

He stops what he’s doing to fix it.  

It wasn’t supposed to be permanent. 

Despite what many believe, Jack Fenton is not the idiot people make him out to be. He knows what he’s good at, he knows what he’s not. He knows he can be passionate and obsessive and single-minded about things. He knows that he is a scientist, an inventor; an engineer. 

He knows that he is not a plumber. That fixing water heaters is not something he knows how to do, not safely. And he loves his family. What he does is only meant to be temporary — a fix meant to only last a few days until they can call someone in who can fix it for them. 

So Jack Fenton futzes with the water heater, gives it a temporary stitch to last a short while, and reminds himself to call a plumber later that day to come in and fix it. He turns and leaves the garage with the part he came for —  a sheet of metal for his wife to melt down — and disappears back downstairs. 

He does not make that call; it slips from his mind. 

It is not his fault. 

One day passes, then two, then suddenly it is Thursday. The water heater has still not been fixed, the water heater has been forgotten. It is nobody’s fault.  

Danny asks his parents at breakfast if he can stay over at Tucker’s house for the night. Just one night. They’re going to study for their math test and then play video games until midnight, but he only tells his parents that first half. 

He’s been doing well in school. Really well — better than he has in a while. There’s been a delightful lull in ghost appearances for the last few weeks. The living don’t know why, but Danny does. The Winter Truce always calms the dead down for a while, something about how the Zone cleanses itself twice a mortal year and that fresh wave of ecto clears out the old and brings in the new. 

This year Danny got to participate. He’s feeling the effects of it too, and he’s been sleeping consistently well for the first time since the accident. 

It’ll never happen again. 

His parents agree under the condition that he doesn’t stay up late, and Danny harmlessly lies through his teeth and agrees. He goes and throws overnight clothes into his school backpack, and when he leaves for school with Jazz his parents are already departed into the lab. 

The last conversation he has with his sister is in her car on the drive to school. Inane, mindless conversation to fill the air and pass the time. Jazz comments on how relaxed he’s been lately; Danny tells her about the Winter Truce. She listens in rapt attention. 

She tells him that she’s glad to see him so well-rested. She thinks her little brother’s been growing up too fast these days. She thinks he’s been too tense. Too caught up with the spinning of the world around him that he forgets about himself sometimes. 

When they reach school, before Danny can get out of the car, Jazz looks to her little brother and says; “I love you.” 

Her little brother’s cheeks turn an embarrassed shade of red. He makes a scrunched up, grossed-out face, but can’t hide the smile pulling across it. “Don’t be a sap, Jazz. I’ll see you later.” He tells her, yanking his hood up over his head. She hears the bashful, ‘love you too’ before he walks away. 

That is the last conversation she ever has with her brother. 

Thursday is unremarkable, passing by in its normality as it always does. There’s one, maybe two ghost sightings; shades lurking around in curious infancy that are easily spooked away by the presence of a greater being. Danny doesn’t even have to go ghost. 

Thursday evening is even less so. Danny goes to Tucker’s house — Sam has a prior arrangement with her slam poetry club — and the two of them study for an hour before they toss their textbooks aside and reach for the game console. 

Danny sleeps in Tucker’s room with one of the extra blankets on his bed, curled across the room in one of the bean bag chairs. It shouldn’t be comfortable, but to Danny it is. He sleeps throughout the night, the portal shut down by his parents before they’d gone to bed. 

Early Friday morning, before the sun has even risen yet, before it’s even so much as a concept to grace the horizon, the water heater breaks again. It was supposed to be fixed. 

Carbon monoxide is a silent killer. Odorless and scentless, it kills within minutes. It fills the house like a shadow casting over the ground, creeping into the rooms. 

Danny’s family die in their sleep; painless and unaware. 

It’s not Jack Fenton’s fault. He didn’t mean to.  

Nobody wakes up with their alarms. 

Danny wakes up to Tucker Foley’s alarm on Friday morning, and he turns his head intangible and shoves it into the beanbag chair like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. Tucker gets up before him, and throws a pillow at him as he reaches for the alarm. 

There’s laughter, messing around. The both of them get dressed, and Danny has breakfast with the Foleys that morning. He takes the bus to school with Tucker, and they meet Sam by their lockers. 

To him, everything is as normal as it should be. There are no ghosts for him to fight right now, school is as school does, and he’s on top of all his schoolwork. 

He does not see Jazz at all that morning, he doesn’t notice. Their schedules are so different, their routes on different paths, that it’s not uncommon for Danny to not see Jazz until he gets home some days. That’s if there’s no ghost attacks. 

At lunch, he gets approached by her friends. Worried creases between their brows, they ask him if he’s seen Jazz. She hasn’t shown up to any of her classes. She’s not answering their texts. It’s unprecedented of her; unheard of. 

Danny doesn’t admit to the concern that swells in his gut when they tell him this. He shrugs at them, and says he hasn’t seen her either. But it was probably nothing to worry about; she might just be sick and sleeping it off. 

He offers to text her and let them know if he gets a response, and that seems to ease her friends enough that they shuffle away in uncertainty. He keeps his word, and does exactly that. He pulls out his phone and opens her contact, and shoots her a message.

‘Where are you?’ 

He doesn’t get a response back, Danny is left on sent. He puts his phone in his pocket, and with a sense of unease creeping in the back of his mind, goes on with his day. He gets no response by the time the final bell rings; and he tries not to be worried. 

The house is quiet when he opens the door. Unusually quiet. He drops his backpack to the floor, it lands with a hearty thunk, and begins to take off his jacket. “Mom! Dad!” He yells. He hangs it up, and slips his shoes from his feet. “Jazz skipped school today!”

A laughable untruth that would get his sister all riled up normally; she should be able to hear him from the front door if she was in her room. The house just stays dead silent. 

He can’t even hear the usual banging and crashing from the lab. His unease returns. He reaches for the intercom that leads directly down to the basement, and presses the button to turn it on. A burst of static, and then he speaks;

“Mom? Dad?” 

Danny lets go, and waits for a response. He gets none back. That never happens, not when the house is this quiet. Not when he knows they should’ve heard him. 

Something sickly and fearful borns in the pit of his stomach, and begins to snake upward. He heads for the lab. The cool metal of the door is familiar in the grooves of his hand, and he doesn’t even need to think about the code as he punches it in;  he simply lets muscle memory guide him. It’s been the same since he was little. 

The door hisses as the pressure is released, and he swings the door open. He takes the stairs down two at a time. Something is wrong. His parents aren’t answering him. His feet pound against the metal. 

“Mom? Dad?” He calls again, more worried, more frantic. More scared. His voice echoes down the stairwell, and he reaches the bottom before it’s fully faded. The lab is empty. The portal is still shut down. 

It was four in the afternoon, they should still be down here. 

Danny races back upstairs, fear-raised nausea coiling in his throat. “This isn’t funny you guys!” He yells when he reaches the top, shoving open the door with more force than necessary. His head swims, his voice cracked. 

He checks the garage, the car is still there. 

“Mom!? Dad!” His voice bellows out throughout the first floor, loud enough that it bounces back at him and rings against his ears. He’s never raised his voice this much — mom would scold him if she heard him. But she doesn’t show up. “Jazmine!” 

Finally, he goes upstairs, and he can’t tell if what he’s feeling is anger or terror. Something is very, very wrong. 

He swings the door of his parents’ rooms open first, and there they are, with the lights still off and the curtains still drawn. As if they hadn’t left their bed all day. Some of Danny’s fear lifts from his shoulders just by the sight of them, but he’s still trembling. Something is still wrong — the room smells… off. Not good, not bad. Just… off. 

He swallows dryly, his throat still thick, and steps into the room. “Mom, dad?” They do not stir. “Didn’t you guys hear me yelling?” 

There is only room static. Danny’s heart shrivels in his chest with a tenfold return of terror, he feels ill. He remembers, just now, that they’re not heavy sleepers, and his dad should be snoring like a freight house. 

Danny reaches their bedside in seconds, hand outstretching for the covers, “Momma? Dad?”

Not all deaths are created equal. 

But many of them are accidental. Unmeditated. Shocking.

Danny Fenton finds his family dead in his childhood home. He runs to his neighbors in hysterics, inconsolable, in tears. Nine-one-one is called, but there is nothing that can be done. They were dead for hours by the time Daniel Fenton returned home. 

He sits on the front steps of the neighbor’s house beside FentonWorks, his jeans slowly becoming wet from the snow that was unable to be scraped off, and watches the paramedics cart out his family beneath white sheets. There are police cars blocking off the street, yellow tape blocking off his house, red-blue lights lighting up the block, an ambulance on the scene. He is wrapped in a shock blanket, and he is missing his jacket and his shoes. His tears are freezing onto his face, he can’t feel the chill. 

Not all deaths are created equal

But all of them are unforgettable. 

[iknowicanbutwhy]

"You could recite their lines perfectly for them" yeah? Well they can, too

Continuation of this.

[yulon]

i want to go back to this point of time where drawing a kickass dragon on a napkin would net you a job

[manderleyfire]

'How many times you been caught with your hand where it doesn't belong?'

PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET (1953), written and directed by Samuel Fuller

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 311

Alien biology is weird. Liminal biology? Even weirder. 

Ecto? Very much a wellspring for creation despite its association with death. Or rather undeath, but that’s a debate that many a realms denizen has tried to find the answer of. Usually there weren’t many liminals- ecto contaminated, yes, but enough to form Cores? No, only a few throughout history. Until the age of Heroes and Villains came about. But that’s a story for another time. 

See ectoplasm builds up over time in the human body, and even more so for those that have formed cores who create their own. And it’s not like it’s well studied, what with most not even being aware of the changes or the fact they aren’t fully human anymore. 

Why is this important? Well, what happens if two liminals (accidentally or not) mix their ecto together? Well, that depends on intentions, even if it’s just an impulsive thought at the time. Which in turns means that accidents? Yeah, accidents might’ve happened. Oops….

[stellar-collective]

behold, my absolute stupidest ieytd headcanon:

due to the limitations of a VR game, there are a couple of quirks that happen when the Agent smokes a cigar. firstly, there’s no difference in animation whether the cigar is in your mouth or not. the smoke remains consistent either way. second, no smoke comes from your mouth when you pull the cigar out. thirdly, the cigars go out REALLY FAST. in some levels, if you want to keep a lit cigar in your mouth the whole time, you’re going to have to relight it two or three times.

something interesting i discovered on a recent playthrough of 3 is that during Cold Shoulder, the Agent has clouds coming out of their mouth bc it’s super cold, right? there’s also a cigar in that level which can be lit if you’re smart. when you have the cigar in your mouth, the clouds continue as normal.

these are all Normal Video Game things that happen because It’s A Video Game. however… taking things completely at face value, i present all this as evidence that Agent Phoenix does not actually smoke. they literally just hold lit cigars in between their teeth because they think it makes them look cool.

thank you for your time.

[tathrin]

So I know this was last week's episode, but I am still not over the Círdan/Elrond conversation on the subject of "sometimes the author sucks, that doesn't mean the thing they made does too" because I guess the guy raised by Maedhros and Maglor would have somehow avoided learning that lesson already lmao because. I mean. I am assuming that legally they can't say Maglor, but. but.

I spent the whole conversation yelling "Maglor. Just say Maglor. You mean Maglor. JUST SAY MAGLOR!" at the television while my mom just kept looking over at me like I'd lost my mind (she likes watching geek stuff with me so I can giver her all the background details she doesn't know, so I always wait to watch these with her, which means she gets to suffer through moments like this without explanation until the episode finishes and it's time for an info-dump, poor mom! haha she loves it though).

And the fact that they instead subbed in DAERON had me laughing so fucking hard. Maglor would be SO MAD ahahahaha.

"Let me get this straight: you wanted to make a reference to me, on the topic of Problematic Creator Types, to my kidnap-victim/foster-son, but because you couldn't use me, you picked Daeron to name-drop instead? DAERON? Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME!?"

He would be so mad and a week later I still can't stop giggling.

[short666bread]

the lads rolling up to the (halloween) function