#but it ticks me off the wrong way

[mammalsofaction]

Something incredibly annoying when dealing with non-pnf stans when discussing with PnF is discussion of Candace being accidentally gaslit by her mother. In that they assume everyone is in on the fact to make Candace feel like she's crazy. NOBODY ELSE is doing that. In fact, nobody BUT Candace seems to understand the whole brunt of the situation.

The backyard gang are not "bullying" Candace or keeping her from telling her mom. In fact, they tell Linda about it themselves MULTIPLE TIMES. They talk about it off handedly a bunch of times too. Theyre just also 10, and Linda thinks it's part of the "games". She thinks theyre being imaginative. Theyre NOT. The backyard gang is NOT lying to her, and they are NOT perpetuating the assumption that Candace is crazy. Linda just doesnt believe them. The backyard gang doesn't KNOW this. THEY ALL THINK LINDA KNOWS.

LAWRENCE is not perpetuating the idea that Candace is crazy. He ALSO thinks Linda knows. HE HAS SEEN the backyard projects a bunch of times, and HE TELLS Linda about them TOO. However, and this is important, he only ever sees the cute, relaxed and sweet projects, and never the potentially dangerous or fatal ones, so he thinks Candace is being anxious and overprotective. Which she is, but that's a separate issue. LAWRENCE is not lying. HE thinks Linda knows.

JEREMY has seen the projects and parties. He talks about them at length, and how cool Phineas and Ferb are! He's never lied. He thinks Linda knows.

STACY has seen the projects and parties. She FREQUENTLY vouches for Candace. But shes Candace's best friend, so of course Linda doesnt believe her.

EVERYBODY EITHER THINKS LINDA ALREADY KNOWS, OR HAVE CLOSE ATTACHMENTS TO CANDACE SO LINDA DOESNT BELIEVE THEM ANYWAY.

Linda isnt doing it on purpose. NOBODY is lying.

DO i think Linda should believe her daughter now and then? And should Lawrence stick up for her more? Of course I do. But it's not malicious. Just....a bit neglectful. But Candace's assumption that everyone is against her is largely perpetuated in her own head and anxieties and miseries. She ISN'T alone. People ARE on her side, and she has more allies than she thinks. There are MULTIPLE episodes where Phineas and Ferb try to bust THEMSELVES (AKA attempt to show Linda their project with her own eyes) when she simply asks them to. A lot of people think she's really cool, and caring, and her brothers think shes unironically, absolutely AWESOME. Which has been the point of many episodes, AS WELL AS Candace against the Universe.

[bunnihearted]

🌧️🫧💭

[butchdykekondraki]

mindsoul tawa mi is like. mind having secret shameful fantasies of him getting better and healing with xem and heart, meanwhile soul is lying, awake, in his bed repeating the exact events that would happen if he were to grab minds wrist and force xem to stab him in the abdomen with xeir own knife. soul wants to watch xeir eyes widen and watch his blood stain xeir hands and knife and wants to kill himself with minds weapon. {in a normal way, of course}

[hecksupremechips]

Sometimes if I’ve gotten done with a therapy appointment my dad will ask what we talked about and it’s like. Girl who do you think 🤨

[risingsunresistance]

cant do it anymore sorry, unfollowed literally everyone except for a very VERY small handful of blogs, mostly ppl i know irl or im very close to like on priv or something. i will still post but it's Just Me jfhdk there's probably not gonna be any new art reblogs or anything... just reminiscing on old stuff, i cant deal with the new stuff anymore

i did keep all the smplive blogs in my following tho on the off chance someone decides to come crawling back lmao

[hildegardladyofbones]

I don't think about this show at all anymore (they fucked up the beginning of s4 and I dropped it immediately) but god damn the showrunners knew what they were doing by establishing that John has a low pain tolerance and then amputating his leg few seasons over. The girlies were screaming, they were going wild and opening on ao3 in the next tab

[homophyte]

okay this has been bugging me for a few days so im outsourcing to tumblr to see if anyone here has talked about it/is talking about it even though the book is a few years old. is there a consensus on morgan from bernardine evaristo’s girl woman other? ive been reading it for a class and it just screamed borderline transphobic character written by a well meaning cis author who has “concerns”. idk is there some 5d chess im missing? am i reading it too literally? whats the deal with it

[elytrafemme]

long theoretical post about my friend hugging me

like. to dissect a matter that none of you are involved in and then i'll delete in the morning: my friend in college hugged me about ten minutes ago and i don't understand why. he's a physically affectionate person so we knew it was bound to happen, it was a running joke between us that we'd like schedule our hug to happen. nothing extraordinary happened tonight. in the second half -- which is when i spent the most time with him -- i was so fucked up that i barely processed what was going on? i was listening to what he was telling me, he just rambled about stuff, and it's interesting and i could recite all of it if asked and the expression he made at each part, but there was absolutely nothing in my head. and he never asked if i was okay which i think he would have if he thought something was wrong, because he's done that before. and we were alone so he could have and there would have been zero consequences. but he didn't ask me what was wrong, so it's hard to assume that the hug was for emotional consolation reasons. he wouldn't have noticed me on the brink of tears, either, he's not that observant. i would have known if he had. and i didn't do anything truly kind to him today, i listened to him talk about his interests and we hung out for a while, but that's what we do all the time. nothing happened. there was the chair thing but i thought i played that off well, i tried to have a coherent narrative about it an hour later too so he would guess what i had hoped, and i think i was successful. he wasn't distressed, i would have known. and he was tired but he's been tired a lot before and he's never acted like this. so he had zero reason to hug me unless he maybe sensed that this entire time i just really fucking wanted him to hug me, but he wouldn't have, and i would never have voiced that, because i don't want him to see me at that level. but i needed that hug badly. and i don't understand why i received it.

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

westerners talking about southeast asians are so stupid sometimes i'm sorry like "how did [people living in the village] maintain their essence 😌🙏🏻 with the temptations of profit 🤑 and the ever-increasing role of tourism 😒😱..." as if people who participate in the tourism industry are somehow less "authentic" southeast asians? as if people who earn their meal that way don't have other factors behind that other than being tempted by profit like some fucking christian beset by temptations LHGSHGH give me a break...

[talkingattumble]

Also gender and sex are far removed and the way mushroom sexes work is WAY WAY different than human sex and is actually a few different sexes with many many variations so using it as a gotcha against TERFs and acting like distinct mushroom sexes works the same way as human genitals doesn’t work but I don’t wanna be a buzzkill and that’s probably given so

[mothmanns]

okay i just finished got and tbeh i think people that were so pissed about the ending just cause their fave didnt act how they wanted her to

[victory-cookies]

add another tally to ‘genetic potential for having adhd’ boys. first tick being the fact that my grandfather has it. Second one being that. well I don’t know what my dad has going on but it’s something. Third one being that my sister’s therapist just told her she may have adhd

[hecksupremechips]

The way akishinji and ashbella both have dramatic coma scenes and dramatic shot through the heart scenes like we’ve gotta stop meeting like this 😩

[heavenly-delusions]

Romantic kind of love isnt bad in my eyes (ive had crushes duh) that i avoid it sm, its just that growing up im bombarded w it. Adult topics seep into children convos and consequently try to emulate it. Then when i show avulsion to it, other children would think im weird or just plainly a bitter loser for having no one like me or sumth. I remember my classmates in elementary school singing along to whatever popular love song is at the time with such longing in them id just know who they have in mind, then i remember thinking to myself "surely this isnt what life is all about". Its been a decade and years more later and its still the same scenario, just with different faces from my college friends and classmates. Still, im hoping this isnt what life is all about.

[sukunasteeth]

Picking You Up From Work

Sukuna leans on the bumper of his Camaro, hoping a drop of rain doesn’t land perfectly on the tip of his cigarette and snuff it out. He’s pretending not to watch the front door of your workplace, like an anxious dog waiting for his owner to come home, but it’s ten minutes past the time you said you’d be out, and he was ready to take you to his apartment and settle down for the night. It had been a long day- he wanted to forget it in the taste of your whimpering on his tongue.

Customers pass him on their way into your workplace. Sukuna wonders briefly what has them whispering to each other and sneaking glances over at him: the nearly sixty year old car or the man covered in tattoos leaning against it?

Fifteen minutes pass before he checks his phone again. It was unlike you to be late, you knew Sukuna had a pet peeve of not being on time and, despite how hairbrained you were, he knew you tried to meet him halfway. Looking over his shoulder, he peeks at the flowers sitting on the passenger seat waiting for you. If he had known you'd be a minute, he would have put a splash of water in the bottom of the flower wrap holding the bouquet together. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, hoping they don’t wilt by the time you get to them.

“I’m sorry, I have to get going-” Your voice chimes through the sound of the rainfall like a cleansing bell, bringing Sukuna’s attention snapping back towards the exit of your work.

You're standing halfway between his car and the building, directly in the middle of the parking lot. A man dressed in a similar uniform to yours is standing a little too close to you for Sukuna’s comfort.

He flicks the ash off of the end of his cigarette and takes a drag.

~

“Are you sure?”

It’s been a long day.

“We could go get some coffee and just hangout for a bit-”

A really long day.

Granted: working customer service you expected long days. Grating days. Days in which you questioned your faith in humanity. But, that all usually ended when you clocked out for the night and headed home. You could easily forget all of it at the door. Tonight, however, the annoyance of having to save face continues.

You had been trying to give this guy a hint all day as he followed you around, desperate to catch your attention and doing anything to gain a brownie point. It was really starting to tick you off.

Not only that, you knew Sukuna was waiting for you somewhere in the parking lot and it was only a matter of time before this man was decapitated before your very eyes.

Dammit, you just wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry, Sam. I’ve got someone waiting for me. Have a good night!” You try to wave him off, offering a polite smile before you turn your back to him.

"Who's waiting for you?" Sam calls out, still not catching the hint.

Before you can reply, a hand reaches around your waist, securing you to a familiar side- but you've been on edge all day, just waiting for your coworker to make one bold wrong move. On instinct, you snatch the wrist at your hip with a deathgrip before realization is able to save you.

Your eyes whip up to meet Sukuna's smirking gaze, his smile flashing into that serpentine grin that makes your fight or flight mode go off.

"Ohoho-" He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous darkness lurking beneath it. 

"'Kuna!" You ease your grip immediately, cradling his hand in sympathy. Part of you is instantly relieved he’s here to sweep you away, and the other part is sweating over how he’s going to handle this situation.  

Sukuna could be a bit possessive. 

"Good grip." He purrs, snatching up your own hand instead and continuing his original plan of tucking you securely into his side. "You turned your back to the scum bag, though." He tsks quietly. "My brat should know better."

Sukuna easily turns the both of you around, lifting you slightly to move without tripping you. You’re forced to face your coworker once again, although you notice that your unease has dissipated with Sukuna next to you now. 

“Is this...? A-Are you guys…” Sam sneers at Sukuna's sudden appearance, his poorly shaven lip curling up in disgust. 

Sukuna merely hums in response, “Every night while you’re wet dreamin’ about it.”

“S-Sukuna!” You interrupt, squeezing his fingers. Heat burns in your ears and you can feel them going pink under Sam’s now incredulous stare. “Is… my… yes.” You finish quietly, trying to avoid either one of the men watching you. Letting people into your personal life was not something you liked to do, even though you're sure your fiance would love it if you screamed it from the rooftops.

“Aw,” Sukuna makes a fond, sentimental noise and you press your elbow into his rib cage when you hear a mischievous lilt to his tone. 

“You and this guy?” Sam gives Sukuna an obvious once over, crossing his gangly arms over his chest in disapproval. “He’s not even your type!”

Oh.

Maybe this guy deserved a good beating.

Even you were too afraid to look at your fiance at that moment, you could tell by the look on Sam’s face that Sukuna wasn’t happy. 

The scariest part about Sukuna getting angry, was the lack of reaction. There was no glaring. No muscles going rigid. No shouting. There was only this overwhelming sense of danger, like a prey animal realizing it was about to meet its predator. 

Sam tries to fix it, sensing the murderous intent hanging in the air, but his ego still tries to bite: “Look, dude, I don’t mean any harm. I just think she needs a gentleman.”

…

Now that piques your interest.

You need a gentleman?

You almost completely forget about Sukuna for a moment, your head snapping in your coworker's direction with breakneck speed. 

“Gentleman?” You repeat, scoffing. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve been breathing down my neck like a fucking animal in heat all day. Practically begging for half a second of female attention in any form you can get it and you’re standing here-after trying to follow me to my car like some fucking pervert- and you’re trying to tell me you’re a gentleman?”

When you try to take a step forward, you're reminded of Sukuna's unrelenting grip on your hip bone, holding you in place.

“Calm down- all I wanted to do was walk you to your car.” Your ill-favored coworker rolls his eyes, although you can sense his discomfort in the way he takes a few steps away from you. His ego speaks again, and you see red. “You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 

What.

“Alright, alright” Sukuna is shoving something cold and jagged into your hands, distracting the sudden confused rage that washes over you. Before you can expel it, he unfastens his hand from around your waist and nudges you in the direction behind him. “Go start the car.”

You blink up at him, taken back by the entire situation. His keys dangle in your frozen fingers, clinking together. 

Sukuna knows you're mad. Knows the only thing on your mind is curb stomping the man in front of you. And you know he won't let you get anywhere near that.

“Come on, Duckie.” He purses his lower lip in a mock pout when you don't turn to leave immediately. There’s something dark glittering behind the faux playfulness in his eyes, reassuring you that nobody was going to get off easy, asking you politely to turn your gaze from what he was about to do.

His calloused thumb sweeps over your fingertips, gliding over the deep red nail polish there. The kiss he presses against your knuckles is one meant for royalty. Soft and sweet. And incredibly persuasive. “I just got these nails done. Lemme keep ‘em pretty for ya.” 

~

When Sukuna opens the driver side door and slides in, fifteen minutes have passed. There’s a smear of blood on his cheek that matches the one on his knuckles, the red catches his eye in the review mirror. He licks his finger, using his spit to try and wipe it off before he turns to meet you, smiling sweetly. 

“What should we get for dinner?"

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.