#i promise no more than a bit of it is

[thegreatgizatsby]

I do find it all lovely is the thing. I've looked up the word a few times to try and find another that doesn't list “pretty” as a synonym or (God forbid) contain the word “love” in it. Some of it is delightful of course—filled with delight, filling me with delight—and some of it is marvelous but all of those things AND others are mostly just lovely to me, and there's no escaping it. There's no hiding it unless I'd like to lie about what's lovely (and what a cruel fate that would be). The sky doesn't mind of course, nor do the pictures and poems which was always strange to me because aren't they closer to the heart where this all gets Messy and the mind where it all gets stapled to a wad of crumpled-up mazes? Aren't they the little darlings of the soul that I should take care not to scare with the nightmare of a love-too-strong, the pouring of a bucketful on the face of a drowning explorer-by-necessity? No one hides the tapping of their fingers or the flutter in their voices when I play the right cue and they start singing to me about the delightful and the marvelous and it's all so lovely to me in a way I could never transcribe lest I romanticize the look in their eyes and then—, then there's a silence. I love the quiet as much as a breeze but this is a Silence that drowns out all others around even the sound of a triple-question-mark (with serifs). The luster fogs over with reinforced concrete painted to fool what I can only assume are people who've never seen the eyes of the dead or the dreadful acrylic-on-styrofoam highlights in pupils that swallow light whole and give nothing back. And why shouldn't it? I broke the law upon which all love is built and that is to never throw myself so fully into the romantics of something that can bleed that which isn't ichor—be it a country or a wrist or a person—lest someone be mistaken that I'm mistaken that this is Love. Of course it's not, or at least I wouldn't know yet. I don't know about the Secret Places and Bad Thoughts and Old Friends and Insecurities and surely they don't know the same about me either. But I'm not saying that I Love and I'm not looking to hear it—because I don't know the same about the sky or distant laughter or a cup of tea, but aren't those all lovely? And isn't it wonderful to sing?

[egophiliac]

But … how the staff swear? We Need to know that too…(of you want of course … love your art and your Amazing humor!!!)

(thank you! :D)

Trein: said 'damn' once when he was sixteen, still lays awake at night in embarrassment about his deplorable lapse in manners.

Vargas: swears like an old-timey carnival strongman. lots of "poppycock" and "what the devil" and an occasional "deuces!" (this makes classes very confusing for poor Deuce)

Crowley: doesn't intentionally swear, but every once in a while he'll, like...put together a presentation on the new staff policies or something that builds up to an acronym which, by complete coincidence, spells out something shockingly depraved.

it happens often enough that you'd think he's doing it on purpose, except. it's Crowley.

Sam: swears in the text, gets away with it because the character reading is always something else

(this is very specific to the Japanese version and probably too meta but I made myself laugh with it, I...I'm sorry)

[sadwetcatmk]

[adhdandcomics]

perhaps the most important question i’ve ever asked:

does anyone have tips for people trying to stop being chronically late to everything in the world that aren’t weirdly judgmental and aggressive or flat out lies

[nellasbookplanet]

The fandom god discussion is interesting, but I feel it’s sometimes hindered by an unwillingness to separate gods from mortal society, or even a sort of over-eagerness to project our own reality onto them, which simply doesn’t work. I've seen the gods referred to as rulers or tyrants demanding worship (which I kinda understand because it’s something Ludinus says in-game, though it’s funny to see fandom corners confidently repeat the inaccurate talking points of the antagonist) but more interestingly I've also seen them referred to as a higher/the highest social class, as colonizers imposing themselves on mortals, the raven queen specifically as new money. Overall these comparisons tend to talk about the gods and their actions regarding Aeor in the past and predathos/the Vanguard in the present less as if they're about saving their own lives and more as if they want to preserve their powerful position.

The gods, by their very nature, are above mortals. They cannot be compared to any mortal ruling class because they didn’t choose or strive for that power and cannot feasibly get rid of it/step down/redistribute it (nor do they actually in any sense rule; killing the raven queen, unlike killing an actual queen, will not end the 'tyranny' of death), they simply have it by virtue of being gods. Saying that’s unfair or unequal and that the gods should be killed because of it is akin to saying it’s unfair a mountain is bigger than you and demanding it be levelled, except the gods, unlike mountains, are living, feeling beings who shouldn’t have to die because some people can’t stand the idea of not always being top dog. Thing is, the gods themselves ultimately understood this power imballance and that they can't help but hurt Exandria the way humans can't help but step on bugs, and thus removed themselves from the equation by creating the divine gate. Saying this isn’t enough and that they're clinging to power is just demanding they line themselves up to be killed.

[skrrtscree]

burn my dread 💀💙

[redraw of sorts of official art, the og under the cut]

[oneofthosenightbees]

First Taste

[sakasakiii]

Hii! I just wanna say, your blog is life to me! Literally come here to scroll on tough days, and seeing all the character designs and funny comics makes everything better! Really love your art style and designs. I know this has been asked before but I'm wondering if I could use your art as profile pictures? I really appreciate the joy your art brings!

hihi hello!!! first off, thank you so much for your kind words! i'm sorry for how delayed this response has been (im just getting back into tumblr after one of many hiatuses... AGAIN!!!), but it warms my heart on my own tough days to hear you enjoy my designs and comics! it means a lot, so thank you again!! ❤️❤️

now onto your question about using my art as a pfp: that's absolutely fine! by the time i'm answering this it's likely a bit late already, but i hope this clears things up in the long run. im absolutely ok with anyone using my art as pfps/icons, just so long as you remember to credit me, don't claim as own, dont use for AI training, etc etc.... hope that clears things up, and sorry again for taking so long to see this!

[hikarry]

I've got the very weird feeling Nina would be the type of gal pal that would try and convince Crowley to get into Tinder/Grindr and when he does cave, she takes the phone from him and starts swipping right in every single possible person without looking at faces or details or anything, not because she cares and lowkey feels guilty over the whole breakup (she does, but don't let Crowley - much less Maggie - even dream about it), but because she really really wants to see what happens like a social experiment. And because she's chaotic, cmon

Watch the whole of London desperately finally getting to match with the mysterious gothic redhead with the sunglasses and the fancy car that has plagued the city for as long as anyone can remember

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

[likesdoodling]

Annatar during chapter 39 of The Harrowing by Chthonion~

And then doodles with some of my favourite bits from the afore mentioned chapter -

I've been meaning to do stuff from this chapter since it came out cause it is amazing- (in a 'wanting to suffocate Annatar with hugs and cups of tea, and the collateral sufferers too- like getting Maedhros back to Fingon for recuperation' kind of a way) - at revealing just how messed up Annatar's mindset is. I definitely recommend the Maedhros pov as well- the amount of '... I don't think I even want to unpack that statement' and 'seriously. We have gone over this. At least three times. In the last twenty minutes. Why do you not get it??' that goes through his head during that conversation is just- Amazin~

:D

This fic is really cool and I highly recommend it to anyone even vaguely into lotr or the Silmarillion.

:D

@chthonion

>:D

[yuwuta]

itfs + reader is so real to me and it works like this: you’re megumi’s childhood best friend, somewhere along the way he meets yuuji, yuuji asks him out, and somewhere along the way—probably mid blowjob or something becuase that’s definitely when yuuji would be thinking about it—yuuji’s like “hey, so do you know you’re in love with your best friend or what?” and megumi literally chokes, and avoids him for like a week but eventually he does admit that he does know, but he also does really like yuuji and if they were normal, they’d break up, but they’re so very far from normal that it becomes a whole thing for them to get off while talking about you, for yuuji to taunt megumi about how he wishes you were here between them and tease him about naughty it is that he fantasizes about his best friend while getting sucked off by his boyfriend, and for megumi to tell him to shutup but then he babbles about all of he pent up fantasies about you anyway. yuuji likes messing with megumi’s guilt about this, and megumi hates how much he likes that yuuji is also into you, and somehow you being oblivious to this is a whole other kink they’ve got going on and have no idea how to sort out

[charrfie]

Sooooo I updated my spamton design... he looks different now!! I wanted to lean a bit more into canon with his appearance :^D also included here are some doodles of my very self indulgent lighter!arrfs au (uncolored ones are roughly a month old so my design changes had not yet been reflected in them.. but you can't really tell since his design was altered so slightly)

[napping-sapphic]

If anyone ever wants to live out that romance trope where the love interest dramatically goes to comfort someone during a storm while they’re afraid please let me know as it has been storming for ten minutes and i have been crying for six of them

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

[soupmanspeaks]

Uhhh something Something headcanon the pizzaplex staff are given little trivia note cards about the company and the 80's in general to recite to guests as they tour the place or something, but the thing about these note cards is that they're full of the most inaccurate info ever, and freddy'll overhear them sometimes and literally have to stop in his tracks to compute what was just said like

Staff: "And here we have Glamrock beauty salon! Where you can get personally styled by Roxy herself! Fun fact, shoulder pads were all the rage in the 80s! Everyone was wearing them, along with their bright neon t-shirts and legwarmers!"

Glamfred: "......I remember we wore more t-shirts and jeans, actually"

Staff: "......?"

GF: "uH.....I mean--I am sure there were some shoulder pads..!"