#i want to go to a freezer

[aetherbladedstick]

Why don't they have pierogi here 😭😭

[chaoswarfare]

dp x dc prompt #68

Danny’s ice core is very good for enjoying extremely cold temperatures without having to drag around a coat. It even helps cool him down in ghost form, and even in human form when there’s enough ambient ectoplasm.

The problem is that his human form has grown to completely rely on it to keep cool, so when there’s not enough ecto to use and his core has to choose between continuing keeping him semi-alive or continuing cooling him down? That’s when the problems start.

It really was just his luck that he chose to visit Metropolis and one of the more destructive rogues started tearing things apart while he was walking to the college he was scouting. And he really should have expected it when something exploded and suddenly the whole city seemed to be burning.

Clark took too long to get there. It wasn’t as much of a self deprecating thought as a fact. By the time he actually took down the criminal that started all this, three blocks were completely engulfed in flames.

His own heart stuttered when he heard a rapidly fluttering heart that kept stopping and starting erratically in the blaze, but he recovered quickly and swooped down to try and save whoever was unfortunate enough to get caught up in the destruction(he ignored how it seemed like it was already too late, and how he hadn’t seen anyone pull through with a heartbeat like that before.) and landed in the rubble that toppled into the street.

The teenager(oh god, it was a teenager, no older than Connor-) reached out and tangled a hand in his cape as soon as he was lifted off the ground. He kept trying to tug him down so Clark could hear him, and when he finally obliged, the kid took a deep breath and rasped:

“Put me in the freezer.”

…What??

[why-the-heck-not]

2nd batch of sourdough! Lots better than the first, actually got some crumb structure this time (bc the starter is finally ready for bread)

[muzzlemouths]

looking at the current DFtR vote rn like

[frog-with-no-therapy]

I want a spider X dcu but have Peter working at the league's base in space as a mechanic or a scientist, cause of course they will have the best material and information to help him make a way home. Except that Peter is weird.

Like, weird weird. Like, spider bite kind of weird with a hint of different culture from a different world kind of weird.

Listen most of his interactions with humans in their world is with them cause he's at the watchtower all the time, so his understanding of what is normal is a bit skew, and he probably also got used to acting more spidery, especially when in a lab or sm (courtesy of his time at the avenger tower where he doesn't really have to hide his spidery side)

Then you take into account him having a different kind of humour and a different set of memes and you have the whole justice league thinking he's secretly an alien

[notbecauseofvictories]

extremely pleased to get an email this morning from a coworker I've never met, saying HELLO YOU MADE THE COOKIES YESTERDAY! WILL YOU MAKE MORE AND SELL THEM TO ME.

[altruistic-meme]

i hate having executive dysfunction and decision paralysis cus i have shit i need to get done today but im staring at the list of things to do and going "idk where to start :( guess ill just Sit Here until i magically decide" and internally in like "NO YOU HAVE TO PICK SOMETHING. YOU WILL WASTE THE WHOLE DAY" but externally im just chilling.

[keeps-ache]

i think i'm starting to really like writing again :D this will have consequences

[bitegore]

soliciting your favorite recipe using dandelions! any part of the plant works for me, i'm just eyeing the new crop this spring and thinking about what i can make that isn't salad

[everysongineverykey]

begging people to realize that the back warehouse of a grocery store is not a second, secret grocery store that has everything you need plus some extra secret items the first grocery store does not have

[tallangrycockatiel]

99% of the time when I ask myself "and how are we feeling about having tits today" the answer is "aggressively neutral, thanks for checking"

And then there are days like today where I remember that I live in a Swamp and we get Heatwaves now and oh my god. Oh my god. Why do I have these things. I am not adapted for my environment.

[wbne]

what if the Blues and Reds were ex-freelancers

[foggieststars]

housemate ate all my bagels 👍

[starswallowingsea]

thinking of that post that's like being a picky eater as a kid just means i get to experience the joy of trying so many foods as an adult. i have some new foods planned for this week after i move including stir fried sweet and sour veggies + rice and omurice (really simple fried rice... may add veggies to it later if i like it but one step at a time). will let you guys know how it goes

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Every time someone knocks on my door I experience a moment of pure dread where I worry it's someone trying to demand immediate entry who is either mad at me, or able to kick me out of my home if they see the wrong thing, or someone I used to know, and my whole body shakes just slightly while I get my phone and try to get it to load the security cam footage, which it NEVER does quickly when I actually need it to for some stupid reason, despite working fast as shit 100% of the rest of the time... While I try to calmly tell myself it's probably a package... And then I get to the door just while the guy is in the middle of writing a note to go to the post office for my package and he gives it to me, and I feel bad for taking so long...

But it's the same guy every time now, like he knows it takes me a hot minute, I am in the middle of keeping myself from spiraling into a panic attack and making sure my mom or sister wasn't stupid enough to let on where I live to anyone... Like he doesn't need to know why, but he knows it takes me a fucking minute to get to the door. He knows this. Like I feel bad for making you wait, but also... You know this by now?

And seriously, checking the camera because I am curious or heard a bird? Immediate. Trying to load the footage because someone is knocking on my fucking door "14% trying to connect :("... "Failed to connect :(" Fuck my stupid door camera. Turns out it's an apple product I think and I hate it.

[orcelito]

I think I cried harder today over my dad's jackets than I did at his deathbed. That was a miserable time of course, a memory that will likely be seared into my brain until I die, but I cried... I think a normal amount, all things considered. More than I ever usually do of course, but I typically don't cry At All. All this free crying is certainly surreal.

The jackets, though. I was put in charge of doing his laundry, because we don't want to pack up dirty clothes. I was expecting it to be unpleasant bc my dad's dirty clothes - gross. But really, it was much more unpleasant in that... those were his. It felt wrong to touch them. Felt wrong to treat his jackets as gross. Because they were just his jackets. They weren't even in the hamper. And then I was remembering him wearing them, and then I was crying. Again. And again. Weeping over these damn jackets.

Then I found a shirt on his bed that still smelled like him. It smelled like a Hug From Dad. And that set me off crying even harder.

In total, I think I cried like 6 times within 40 minutes. It took me that long to finish sorting the damn clothes bc I just. Was a wreck. Like, what are you supposed to do when you're living life like normal, vaguely hopeful bc you're taking steps to secure your own happiness, and then 4 days later you're sorting your dad's laundry because he fucking died. Suddenly. Without a goodbye.

And you have to worry about his lack of a will (even under an ideal situation, only 2 heirs and no conflicts between us, probate's a fucking Bitch), and arranging the funeral, and prepping his obituary, and picking out pictures, and writing a speech bc you want to talk at his funeral, of Course you want to talk at his funeral, but even just thinking about anecdotes you could share has you crying yet again.

I've cried more times in the past 3 days than likely the entirety of last YEAR. And that's WITH my cat, and uncle, and family friend dying. Those all hurt, my uncle most of all, & I was real fucked up over it. But this? This was my Dad. Likely the person I'd have named 2nd closest to me in my life, second only to my sister. He wasn't perfect, but he did so much for me throughout my entire life. All he wanted was to raise us to be happy and independent. And he accomplished it, we're getting by without him, but we still wanted several more decades with him. He was only 57. We should've gotten several more decades with him.

But here we are now. Playing investigators to his life, digging into all his shit, trying to find documents and take inventory of all his things, and learning Many things about him in the process. In his lockbox of sensitive documents, like his SSN and birth certificate and all that stuff, we found an old letter. About a decade old now, written in my hand. Right at the very top, we found that he'd kept the letter I wrote to him telling him frankly about my struggles and the things I wanted him to do better. He kept it. He tried to take it to heart. He looked at it again, sometime more recently than all the rest of the documents. That was on top.

His love for us is evident everywhere. The pictures he has hanging up all over the place, majority of them with us in them. The old fathers day cards placed on display in his bedroom bookshelf. The gifts we gave him, even stupid little knick knacks, placed around his apartment with pride. I wish we'd taken more videos of him. I don't want to forget the sound of his voice. I don't want to forget his smell either, the smell of a Hug From Dad, but I still tossed that shirt into the wash even though it felt like saying yet another goodbye.

It's the suddenness that hurts the most, I think. We were planning on having him help me finally get my license this year. My final words to him, the last thing he would've seen from me, were messages asking up on whether he'd called his car insurance company to make sure there wouldn't be problems. I should've called him more. I don't know if I'm going to learn from this.

I cut my 2 weeks off early to have time to grieve and to work on things for the funeral and settling the estate. The last thing I'd wanna do right now is selling fucking bubble tea in a job I already decided to leave. So here I am without a job, though with potentially two life insurance policy payouts to come. Inheriting half his 401k. Inheriting couches, knickknacks, keepsakes, paintings, art pieces, maybe even his guitar and other furniture if we can figure out what to do about space (I don't have room for this furniture, I don't know if I even have room for the couches, but God do I want to keep so much of this furniture). It has me even considering keeping one of his guns, just one. A tiny little revolver, it sits so comfortably in my hand. I don't even want to use it for anything. I just want to have it, keep it stored in a drawer with its ammo kept separate. I don't like guns, but this is a part of him. He loved collecting guns. He was about as responsible with them as someone can be, keeping them locked in a lockbox and impressing upon his children the importance of gun safety (I've known the basic gun safety rules ever since I was a little kid. Of course, of course, of course.) It reminds me of him. It's horrifically easy to have a gun in Indiana. I apparently don't even need a permit to carry anymore. (I have no intention to ever carry this in public.)

It's all a cycle. Business, grief, thoughts about my future. Round and round, like the most nauseating carousel in existence. I don't know how I'm still so functional. My skills with compartmentalization have been my lifesaver.

And im just thinking about the story my dad's best friend shared today. About a friend of theirs who lost her father. She reached out after hearing about my dad to share his words with her: "it's okay to grieve, but don't make his death your life".

He explicitly referenced himself in this, saying if he were to die suddenly that he wouldn't want us to define ourselves by it. Grief is expected, but he wants us to be able to move on. He's always wanted us to establish ourselves and make ourselves happy. He wouldn't want to be a weight holding us back from that.

So every time I start to feel guilty for thinking about having nicer furniture or using his life insurance payout to fund the rest of my college, I remind myself of that. Thinking about the material isn't a bad thing. I'm only human. And in the end, he'd Want me to be thinking about it. He never intended to die, certainly not without warning like this, so he would've only encouraged me being pragmatic about it all.

He only ever wanted us to be happy. So I need to do what I can to live up to that.

I love him. I miss him already.