#if you guessed me. well. you would be correct

[savanir]

so I got Steve Trevor;

From one highly stressful situation to the next it seems, Steve really wishes his gun didn’t get misplaced.

Especially considering he’s absolutely not where he was less than a minute ago, considering the endless void of… green.

Why is it always green…

“What the fuck” He’s keeping his stance ready for anything while trying to get his bearings at least somewhat, he seems to be surrounded by ruins, somewhat familiar looking ruins.

“You have experience with Pandora’s box, correct?” 

Steve quickly turns around and has his arms loose and ready, slightly up to either defend or attack.

In front of him is a floating… boy?

“Hello” the slightly glowing, black and white clad teen gives him a lazy little wave, cheeky sort. alright then.

“Where the hell am I?”

"Good guess but that's a little more to the left from here"

"What?"

The teen’s expression shifts to something more serious, "Listen, the box got stolen and I need someone with knowledge about the damn thing that can also inconspicuously come with me and isn't bound by dumb ancient rules to help me out with getting it back where it belongs. You came recommended by Pandora so..."

“Are you serious- wait, Pandora as in the Pandora?”

"Yes, Lady Pandora, keeper of the box with the ancient evils or whatever. Of course she knows about you, like I said you have prior experience with dealing with this thing- you are Steven Trevor right? Consort to princess Diana of Themyscira?"

"Consort-" Alright okay so this is really happening, it’s spread to other dimensions now or something? he rubs the bridge of his nose, he could use a good stiff drink to handle this revelation.

"Partner, boyfriend, whatever, listen we need to stay focused here" the teen claps his hands, it actually does effectively grab Steve’s attention back.

"Right, yes that's me. I'm, fuck you're telling me that fucking thing-?"

"Yes, and I could really use a hand here with solving this mess please. Oh uhm, Danny Phantom, nice to meet you.” Danny holds his hand out and Steve gives him a handshake. so the kid knows about the basic typical earth greeting. good to know.

“Now, we got no time to lose, I'll be sure to put you right back where I found you once we're done so no worries"

Well Steve doesn't really want that cause he was in the process of getting kidnapped when he got dragged through a swirling green portal. sadly his attackers confiscated his gun so he’s currently very unarmed but he’d take it if it means he’s not at risk of getting tortured for Justice League intel and used as bait to lure the heroes in. 

"Just drop me off in Washington DC. I'd prefer that"

"Whatever you want bud" Danny grins and leads him towards a different portal in the distance.

Steve figures it’s in his best interest to go along with everything for now but once his comms stop being dead he’ll notify the Justice League immediately. Still though, something in his gut tells him that this kid isn’t bad news. 

He has this weird feeling that Diana would like him.

Use this random DC character wheel to write a dpxdc prompt, fanfic, or blurb below! (Or just say what ya got ehehe)

[icarusredwings]

Do you guys ever think about dementia Charles seeing Pietro and getting sad or becoming really happy because his poor mind connects the dots that he's Erik? It dosn't compute that this wouldn't be Erik because hes too young to be Erik rather assuming that he is young Erik and not exactly having the logic to understand that they are so differently aged.

"Oh! My old friend, you've gotten a haircut. Quite bold of you. It makes you look much younger."

".. yeah, yeah, old man.." he mutters, trying to avoid him best he can, but sometimes, when the others are busy, he can't stand to leave him alone. Coming to sit with him just to litsen to him gab about random nonsense, talking so fondly about his X-men and memories dear to him.

"Do you remember?"

"Do I remember what?"

"When Jean got her first bad grade and she cried to you about how cruel I was to her." He chuckles softly. "And all she got was a B-"

Pietro stares at him like he's crazy. Jean cried to his father? But why? He had his own children to take care of. So why would he treat her like that? It makes him a bit angry. "No.. I don't. What else?"

"Hm?"

"What else happened? With jean and my da- erm. Me."

"I believe it's Jean and I." He corrects his grammer, making the younger man roll his eyes in annoyance. Once a professor always a professor I guess.

"Sure. Jean and I.."

"You acussed me of being too hard on her, but when I explained it, you laughed... I haven't seen you laugh like that in so long.." It's sort of now that Charles remembers what's going on. Who he's talking to.

"..Im sorry. Who are you again?"

"Well you like to call me speedster."

"Pft. No I do not. Mr. Maximoff.. you've grown so big since the last time ive seen you."

'You just saw me yesterday' he thinks but makes that awkward smile and nods. "Yup.."

"Youll have to forgive me. Im not always.... here."

"I know.. are you alright?"

He shrugs in his chair. "About as alright as anyone could be in my situation." Ah yes. The paralyzed old bald man who was losing his mind still had jokes. Funny. But sad. He remembered him being so similar and yet.. so different.

It's not long before Jean comes to give him his medicine again, convincing him that it was for the kid's saftey. "You don't want to hurt them. Do you, Charles?"

"No... but I'm not that gone yet. I can decide when it's best to take my medication."

She smiles so sweetly at him. "Professor, you made this time schedule yourself. Im just doing what you told me. You always knew best for us."

"Oh.. well, alright then."

Before Jean can walk away, He stares at her.

"....Why did my father like you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Charles... he said.." He trails off, not sure how to say it without talking too quickly.

"He said you cried to my father. And.. he defended you."

Jean tilts her head. "I wouldn't say defended. I was just a child having a fit." She admits then shifts, looking at the walls as if remembering.

".. He was here a lot.. and then he just.. stopped coming. Im sorry. I don't know why. Like I said I was just-"

"Didyoureadhismind?"

"Uhm.. just a couple times."

"Jean used to con you into getting her ice cream." Charles smiles, closing his eyes, reminiscing.

"He.. got you ice cream?"

Jean's not dumb. She understands his frustrations, glancing at the old man and then to Pietro again. "Like I said.. I was just a kid.. I was just excited to be able to use my powers. I didn't mean anything by it. I didn't even know he had other children."

"...He never got us ice cream.. he didn't even bother sign my birth certificate.."

"Im sorry, Peter... Professor? Tonights dinner is potatoes gravy turkey with apple sauce. Remys making it so it might be a little spicy."

"Oh, that's alright. He means well. Erm.. thats the blue one right?"

Jean snorts. "No Professor. He's the card one."

"Oooh yes. Reeemmyy... right." He says his name slowly as if trying to connect 'the card one' to 'Remy' in his brain.

"...Bye Peter." She says, now awkwardly leaving.

"Remys that rat from the cooking movie" Pietro whispers and Charles' eyebrows raise. "Ahhh! Remy! That's right."

He might be an x-men. But he could still pull a little evil here and there.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ.ᐟ ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ/ᵗᵉᵃˢᵉʳ

"Everything happens for a reason," they say. Which sounds all wise and comforting—until you realize the reason is that you’re stupid and make bad choices.

The bad choice in question? Falling for your best friend and PR manager Lily’s honeyed words and agreeing to let The Marauders, the biggest boyband on the planet, open for you on your world tour.

You had questioned the logic. Repeatedly. Why would you, an established artist with a loyal fanbase, need them? But Lily had dismissed your concerns with a grin so radiant you’d have thought she was discussing her wedding plans, not your career.

“It’s all about PR!” she’d said, practically bouncing. “You’re unstoppable alone, but with them? The buzz will be next level!”

Buzz. Right. The only buzzing now was the ringing in your ears as you sat stiffly in a glossy conference room, waiting to meet the so-called biggest boyband ever. The air was thick with tension—and regret.

The first impressions hadn’t been awful. Their drummer, Peter, seemed endearingly awkward. Their songwriter and bassist, Remus, was quiet but polite. And their frontman, James Potter? Sure, he was a little much with his golden-retriever energy, but at least he was charming in a harmless sort of way.

Then there was him.

Sirius Black, the band’s lead guitarist, resident heartbreaker, tabloid darling, and a walking cautionary tale wrapped in leather and bad decisions.

You’d heard about him long before today, of course. Everyone had. He was the one with the womanizing reputation, the rebellious attitude, and the kind of tragic backstory that made the press salivate.

What worried you most, though, was that your tour manager—Regulus—was his brother. Regulus had already muttered enough unflattering anecdotes about Sirius to make your skin crawl. And if Regulus, who was calm and composed to the point of saintliness, couldn’t stand him? What chance did you have?

You’d never heard Regulus rant about anyone before, but when Sirius came up? Oh, he let loose. Words like self-centered, arrogant, and man-child had been thrown around liberally.

The door slammed open, breaking your spiraling thoughts, and there he was: Sirius Black, 30 minutes late, looking like he’d rolled straight out of someone else’s bed.

To your immense irritation, his face was as devastatingly attractive as the rumors said. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and eyes like molten steel that practically dared you to look away. His dark hair was messy in that perfectly careless way that took effort.

But then he smirked. And all that potential evaporated.

You glared at Lily, silently screaming, PR?! Really?! She avoided your eyes, suddenly fascinated by her notebook.

“Well, well,” Sirius drawled as he strolled in like he owned the room. “Looks like I’m fashionably late.”

“Just late,” you corrected, your voice cold enough to freeze fire.

He turned to you, smirk deepening. His gaze raked over you—not subtle, not respectful, and definitely not apologetic. “And you must be the boss.”

The way he said it, like it was both a compliment and a challenge, made your teeth clench.

You extended a hand. “Nice to meet you,” you said flatly, forcing yourself to stay professional.

For a moment, it seemed like he might take it. Instead, he leaned back, hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re not my type,” he said, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.

The audacity.

It took every ounce of self-control not to let your jaw drop. Instead, you plastered on a bright, brittle smile. “Oh no. How ever will I survive now that Sirius Black doesn’t consider me his type?”

His smirk widened, clearly enjoying your irritation. “Guess we’ll find out.”

You were this close to throwing professionalism out the window and throttling him when Lily nudged you sharply.

“Play nice,” she hissed under her breath.

With an exaggerated sigh, you stepped aside, letting Sirius pass. He sauntered to the table, but instead of sitting, he stopped behind Lily’s chair.

“You’re in my seat,” he said smoothly.

Lily blinked up at him, startled. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t realize—”

“No, Lily,” you cut in, already exhausted. “Stay where you are. If Black has an issue, he can go complain to the teacher.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his stormy eyes. “Cute. But that’s my seat.”

“This isn’t kindergarten, Black,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sit somewhere else.”

Lily started to stand anyway, but you put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “Seriously, stay. If he’s that attached to this chair, maybe he can write it a love song later.”

Remus snorted from across the table, clearly trying to hold back laughter. “Sirius, mate, just sit next to Pete.”

But Sirius didn’t move. He was staring at you now, his smirk gone, replaced by something sharper, something that made your skin prickle.

You raised an eyebrow, refusing to back down. “Still standing there? Don’t tell me you’re waiting for me to roll out a red carpet.”

His lips twitched like he was fighting a grin. “No need, sweetheart.”

You gritted your teeth. “Not your sweetheart.”

“Not yet,” he shot back smoothly.

The audacity.

Lily elbowed you under the table, her look screaming be nice.

You exhaled sharply, turning back to the table as Sirius finally—finally—took a seat. But the smirk on his face told you one thing loud and clear:

This tour was going to be hell.

ᴀ��ᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ.ᐟ

Fueled by caffeine, sleep deprivation, and the questionable life choice of writing instead of resting, this story is here to (hopefully) make you laugh, swoon, and maybe yell a bit. Sirius is impossible, the MC takes no nonsense, and I’ve probably had too much coffee to be trusted with this much drama.

Enjoy, and thanks for reading—you’re the real MVP for putting up with me. ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ

[mona-tiktak]

ive definitely seen a few headcanons where steve is secretly a huge dork who pretends to not know anything about anything to annoy the party and i love that so much

bc imagine a scenario where eddie, dustin or mike find out about it

i feel like itd be similar to that scene from b99 when holt tells jake about how he actually broke his wrist

obvs robin knows bc that her other half and she would absolutely fuck with them as well. shes a ride and die.

"you've known what we were talking about the entire time?"

"yeah."

"why are you telling me this?"

"because no one will ever believe you."

tho eddie would keep it a secret after finding out bc he would find the chaos of the reveal hilarious. like he finds out when he and steve finally get their shit together and is like "oh, okay. this is gonna be funny as hell." and promptly keeps his trap shut until the big reveal.

and he sets up little moments for steve to be both clueless and correct in front of the party that causes them to squint at steve bc either he's learning from listening or he just straight up guessed.

[gothamite-rambler]

"Ma, I am in the middle of a job!"

Context: Stephanie you're mom is buying groceries for you with her money and you're in your 20s. Let this happen!

Spoiler and Red Robin interrogated a couple of goons who might have a lead on Killer Moth's hiding place. Just as the conversation was starting to yield some promising information, Spoiler’s phone rang. She frowned as she recognized the familiar ringtone she had assigned to her mother.

Red Robin sighed, exasperated at the interruption.

Red Robin: I told you to put the phone on airplane mode.

Spoiler (pulling her phone out of her pocket): I told you to pound sand for suggesting that. I have to take this. Keep talking to the lackeys.

Goon 1 (offended): Lackeys? Rude.

Red Robin (annoyed): Spoiler, just ignore the call.

Spoiler (ignoring him): I’ll be back in like a minute.

Red Robin shook his head, fully aware that these calls were never quick or quiet, but they were usually too entertaining to veto. So he decided to wait it out.

Goon 1: Um, should we wait?

Red Robin nodded.

Red Robin: You’ll want to hear this.

Spoiler swiped to answer the call, fully knowing her mother wouldn’t relent until they had a conversation. As soon as she picked up, she regretted it.

Crystal (Irish accent): Stephanie, darlin’, I’m so glad you could answer! I’m at Stop and Shop for a big shop, and since I’m staying with ya while my apartments' bein' fumigated, do you need me to pick up anythin'?

Spoiler groaned and clenched her fist, her anger boiling over. She remained silent for a few seconds, trying to keep her rage in check.

Crystal: I'm usin' my own money and ya don't got to pay me back. What you need? ... Hello? Are you too busy to talk?

Spoiler (with a hint of an Irish accent): Ma, yes! I am on a feckin’ mission! You knew this and you’re callin' me for feckin' snacks?!

Crystal (slightly shocked): Who do ya think yer talkin’ to? I knew bein’ around that rat bastard would influence ya the wrong way. I’m tryin’ to do the motherly thing and buy ya groceries, and this is how ya react?

Spoiler stared at the wall, debating whether to end the call. After a sigh of regret, she pressed on.

Spoiler: My boss isn’t why I’m responding this way. Ma, you rarely did this when I was a kid! So excuse me if I'm a little miffed that you’re calling me during a mission to ask what I want from your big shop!

Crystal: Aye, I’m well aware of my failings as a mum when ya were a wee child. But to correct my sins, I’m doin’ what mothers would do. I’m workin’ on betterin’ myself since findin’ the Lord, and that means buyin’ ya food. Guess that’s not good enough for ya.

Spoiler: Oh jeez, do not guilt trip me!

She turned around to see Red Robin and the goons looking over at her curiously.

Spoiler: I'll be back in a minute.

Red Robin (arms crossed): No problem. This is clearly an important phone call.

Spoiler (turning away from the group): Oh, shut up!

Crystal: Baby girl, don’t yell at ya friend.

Spoiler: This is worse than the times I dealt with Kite-Man! Ma, it’s grand that you found the Lord and all, but could you maybe send a text or something?

Crystal (indifferent): I walked in on ya with your first boyfriend. Callin’ ya at work ain’t an oddity. Now, back to the list—

Spoiler audibly groaned while pinching the bridge of her nose. The goon leader leaned towards Red Robin.

Goon leader: Is her mom not from America?

Red Robin: I will say yes to that, but not going to detail anything else.

Goon leader: Mm-hm, just wondering because my parents aren't from America and acted like that.

Spoiler (slight hiss in her raised voice): I heard that!

Crystal (overly focused on shopping): Darlin' do ya need eggs or any meats, or are ya vegan like that wee son of that rat bastard?

Spoiler (knocking her fist against her forehead, frustrated): Get the eggs, almond milk, bacon, and all the Shin Ramen they’ve got! Can I go now?

Crystal (focused on shopping): Ramen? Not while I'm stayin’ with ya. I’ll get the other items though. Oh, and some tampons, right?

Spoiler felt the eyes of Red Robin and the goons on her, refusing to look over at them, which only added to her stress.

Spoiler (rubbing her forehead): Aye. Aye. Aye! Can I hang up your priestess?!

Crystal: You may, but remember, ma loves ya. Say it before you hang up, or I will call ya back.

Spoiler (seething): Yeah, loves ya bunch, Ma!

Spoiler ended the call, hearing Oracle laugh in her earpiece. She spun around to face the group, all pretending they hadn’t been eavesdropping.

Spoiler (embarrassed and trying to sound threatening): Any of you say a single mocking word, and you'll feel me steel toed shoes in your groin!

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 14

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

WARNING: TW/Mentions of past Suicidal ideations

First - Prev - Next

CH.14

“You’re just going to give him free reign of the house?”

“I did not think you of all people would have a problem with this, you were the one who expressed the most disapproval with keeping him in the containment unit.”

“Yes, but wasn’t your main concern that he would leave?”

“Fiddleford, he was homeless. Where else is he going to go?”

“Well there is that Rick character he keeps mentioning…”

“You sound a bit on edge, do you remember him from Backupsmore?”

“Remember him?”

“Do you remember Diane Sanchez? He’s her husband- well, he was her husband.”

“I’m afraid the name doesn’t ring a bell…”

“Hmm, I’m not surprised, engineering wasn’t her major. Regardless, you’re better off having not met him. I don’t believe we have to worry about him. He is… very far away.”

“And Stan has no hard feelings towards you?”

“On one hand, he tells me he believes I’m only keeping here as part of an elaborate, delusional grieving process, and he will ‘play along’ however long that process takes. On the other hand, he wrote ‘Look what I did to your other hand’ on my hand in marker while I was asleep, and on quite literally the other hand he drew a turkey. Fiddleford, stop laughing.”

“I wouldn’t call that malicious, but it certainly explains why you decided to keep your gloves on outside of the lab. And he agreed we could continue to study his memory loss?”

“Yes, he did - I assume that’s what you two were discussing earlier?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You were up in the attic with him for at least an hour this morning, I assume you were conducting another interview? Locking the door was a bit excessive but without a neurology or psychology degree myself I am in no place to question your methods.”

“Interview-? Oh, um, yes. Interviewing. That’s exactly what we were doing. And nothing else.”

“Of course. Now- do you know where he is? I need to talk to him about an upcoming Cryptid Hunt.”

“You’re going to take him with you?”

“I was hoping both of you would accompany me actually. But if he will not, I’d need you to stay back here with him if you wouldn’t-”

“I wouldn’t mind none.”

“Thank you for your patience and understanding Fiddleford, I’m glad I was correct in my assumption that you’d be the best suited to assist me.”

“Any of our other colleagues woulda called the cops on your presumptuous behind.”

“...I know, and I am grateful you didn’t. Now, where is he?”

“Last I saw him was in the attic trying to cover up the window with a sheet - some type of paranoia? And I heard him come downstairs a few minutes ago but I haven’t seen him. If I were to take a guess though, he most likely went through that hatch leading to the platform on your roof - it’s still open.”

“What? Stanley can’t be on the roof, he’s afraid of heights.”

*Stan abruptly drops from the hatch, landing on his feet*

“Guys you won’t believe this but some dude in a giant moth costume just flew by- woah, you alright there PhD? You look like you already saw a ghost.”

(...)

*a series of clicking noises and hoots*

“Antenna curling! That's his tell! I fold.”

“Sorry, Stanley, but it appears Mothman was bluffing.”

“What? I had 4 aces! That moth is a wizard! Guess it’s up to you to win this for us, Doc.”

*Mothman takes a bite out of a wool cardigan, Fiddleford nearby with no chips angrily crosses his arms*

“...He's mocking me.”

“I was cheating the last 8 turns, too.”

“Stanley, for shame.”

“What? I already folded. This cheater didn’t prosper.”

(...)

“Good on you for winning, Stanford.”

“Of course, I’m just sorry that I couldn’t win before he took more bites out of your cardigan.”

“Good thing I had this flashlight to distract him, he really is a moth.”

“...Did you steal that from my coat closet?”

“Yes.”

“What else did you steal?”

“Well it’s a good thing Mothman didn’t have any money on him ‘cause you wouldn’t have anywhere to put it.”

“Give me back my wallet, Stanley.”

“Poor sport.”

(...)

“D-E-F-P-O-T-E-C”

“Now use both eyes, what’s the smallest line you can read?”

“Line ten. L-E-F-O-D-P-C-T.”

“Oculus dexter and oculus sinister are both 20/20, but your oculus uterque is 20/15.”

“Look we’ve been at this snail chart-”

“Snellen chart.”

“Whatever, we’ve done this like five times. What’s the point? I already told you I don’t need glasses.”

“It just doesn’t make sense… We’re identical, your visual acuity should be 20/40 or above because years of straining would make your vision even worse than mine.”

“I dunno what you want me to tell you PhD, my eyes are fine.”

“...Did Sanchez have something to do with this?”

“Sanc-.”

“Rick Sanchez. I know that’s the Rick you’ve off-handedly mentioned several times.”

“How can you be so sure? It’s a pretty common name.”

“Because you would be familiar with that egotistical, destructive, jaded, cynical-”

“Okay so you do know Rick. And yeah, we ran in the same circle for a bit, what about it?”

“He was always doing morally questionable experiments-”

“That’s funny coming from you.”

“-but altering physiology was something he had a special interest in. Did he give you some form of eye surgery or technological implant?”

“You think I’d let that nihilistic asshole near my eyes while I was passed out… or awake? Hell no. I don’t remember ever having vision problems. The closest he ever came to ‘altering’ me or whatever the fuck you’re tweaking about was help me steal a bunch of pills from the Galac-the government.”

“You- Why did you steal pills?”

“I couldn’t get decent sleep, and after getting my stomach pumped it’s not like any doctor was ever going to give me ambien or anything stronger ever again. Also, to stick it to the man.”

“... Stanley, did you- did you overdose on ambien?”

“Twice.”

“... Was it on purpose?”

“... Once. Only once. Don’t-. Don’t look at me like I’m a kicked puppy. I know it’s messed up. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I did it to myself, it isn’t anyone else’s fault. And I dunno what the fallout of your separation ten years ago was like, but no matter what happened this definitely wasn't your fault.

Look, if it makes you feel better, whatever you and specs have been spiking into my food and water has been working pretty great. I’m getting way better sleep here than I have in years.”

“We have not been putting drugs into your food or water.”

“If you say so, Doc.”

To be continued…

[charmed-redemption]

"Sounds about right for my luck... always a bride's made never a bride."

Rico spoke walking back towards his home. He would need to hurry and place the books on the correct shelves, yet his book of spells may hold the answer. With the source being old there was likely information there. The smell and feel of love was in the nice air yet it may have been what helped him hide.

"I guess you can help me research. There may be a link to what you thought he was as well."

HRC: Paris in Springtime

[bookwyrminspiration]

I can behave normally around books

[mourn-and-watch]

one thing that is fascinating to me about merrill's arc is the way narrative manages to convince a big part of the fandom that she's immature and irresponsible and overall stupid. what we know about merrill and what we actually see on screen is that she successfully avoids possession for 6 years while working closely with a demon, almost every time she participates in some magic/spirit-related discourse she acts calm and confident and has some interesting input, she actively uses her knowledge of dalish lore and tradition to reason with her keeper, and that she actually did make progress with fixing and studying an ancient long forgotten artifact no one knows particularly anything about. but then an old woman who's never been shown to be an undeniably wise and reasonable figure, a guy who got willingly possessed with no awareness of possible consequences and whose whole mindset is still deeply andrastian and a bunch of people who know nothing about magic start judging and doubting her and everyone's like. yeah. she's so fucking dumb.

[lunarin64art]

That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔

[recurring-polynya]

I'm getting ratio'd by my family for my opinions, so let's see what Tumblr thinks about this:

He has to do it from standing, flat-footed. He cannot do it off of a high object or from standing in mid-air or into a Valley of Screams. He has to stick the landing. He is not allowed time to train or otherwise prepare. He's standing in the dojo and someone comes in and yells "DO A BACKFLIP!!": can he? Assume he is on-board with doing the backflip, i.e., don't pick 'no' on the assumption that he would refuse to do it.

[reksink]

Strangely Cladded Wizards

[skunkes]

[hella1975]

i cannot stand the aot fandom this is not a new take at all they are universally intolerable but oh my dayssss u are FORBIDDEN from making ANY take about the show it's actually insane to watch. 'aot is perfect' no show is perfect. 'tell me you didnt get the show 😂🫵' people have different opinions/interpretations about things. 'eren is a good guy they could never make me hate him' i think there's actually 4 seasons and two movies explicitely using him as a tool to show that no one is 'good' or 'evil' they are only trying to survive. hello. the fandom r all so far up aot's ass that they actually discredit its writing in the process and it would be laughable if it wasn't so frustrating

[obstinatecondolement]

Watching shorts by this one specific MUA with Rubenesque features who does very soft Romantic makeup looks is becoming a bit loadbearing ngl.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

"normal" meaning "unquestionable" & the embrace of that cropping up anywhere such as an aim to be on the unquestionable side of a Normal / Weird binary, thus surely being a comfortable effortless indelible version of Good that stems from "just be normal"

ppl out here like freud 2.0 where well they had the sufficiently normal Nuclear Household family(tm) experience so they're sufficiently normal for it, versus the weirdos who had the Questionable family times so as to end up with Issues, surely unlike all those who are Family Issue free, i.e. normal, no question. like how also Going To School is Normal, so of course there's that idea that anyone who didn't go to school normal style or did but Did That Wrong are the people made Weirder with Issues. & when what's Normal is what's Good is what's Unquestionable it's like why would i need to question it when it's so normal? why wouldn't some rando asshole nepo man be Meritous & Good at business when he's so Successful at it. speaks for itself, same as Your role of being treated entirely differently does, this can't be questioned, blame it on your own failures; again how the supposedly "questionable" experiences (unlike other ones, which need no Legitimate questioning) are pathologized like. people talking about disabled ppl's lacking "social skills" being this meaningful Driver of ableism just like poor people's lacking "financial literacy" being that darn cause of classism & resource extraction, the already Questioned vulnerable [you're just doing it wrong / failing] people are the cause of their own mistreatment, Normal people who are so socially & financially successful are helpless, this victim blaming (can't question it. Normal) sure totally doesn't speak to abuse being "normal" as well

which, good thing abuse totally isn't Normal i.e. in the territory of unquestionable things (with, obviously, the idea that Abuse (Real abuse, if you like) must be Exceptional in addition to, if not to Really be, "obviously" questionable) since if something can't be questioned then surely it's also How Things Were In The Beginning, Are Now, & Ever Shall Be (catholic prayer paraphasing re: god, for referential context) & there's just nothing to do but invest in & play into it For Success & resent / punish / try to eliminate disruption, like people just existing but doing it Weird, c'mon, be a better person please, obviously....meanwhile people out here approaching queerness in a way that accepts & acts according to the unquestionable normal of abuse of queerness, such that oh the "abnormality" of being queer (that is, "normal" people's abuse in the face of awareness of queerness) is unquestionable, such that Oh No, investment in that abuse now & forever world without end amen, & now punching down on the people who are just Being Weird & Disrupting this embrace of the norm: radfems invested in "all bodies will be classed as men & women & the former abuse the latter" & hate women who already disrupt this premise; pointing out ace exclusionism as terf logic just applied in the different context where queer vs nonqueer binary is neatly detected just as the gender binary is & people who already prove that & the way it's defined is not the case are the real problems, infiltrating Unquestionable (Normal) Queerness & delegitimizing it i.e. being The Cause of e.g. homophobic abuse, which will also unquestionably exist, so if we're gonna blame someone as Needing To Change it'll have to be uhhh already also affected Weird people who are ruining things, they're the Real causes of this abuse, so they're basically men, basically cis, basically straight. boooo to trans ace bi pan aro nonbinary gnc people....hardest to be binary gender "same sex" "romantic" "visible" Truly Queer couple currently holding hands in public or in front of family, & it's You Mfs who make it harder, not, yknow, the people who were already always embracing & perpetuating the abuse bolstering Normal(tm) Cishet Just Being Normal. and of course don't forget going after poly people & others disrupting / not accepting premises about Unquestionable Relationship Structures/Requirements. so not just being normal

also the beloved concept broken out that, of course, Being Normal = Being Good, b/c hello, unquestionable?? where it's like meaningless ideas that abuse is Abnormal like ":( hurt people hurt people" (inherently a framing to counter any response to [person is hurting me] that's not silent secret sympathy forever i guess. nobody's using this catchphrase to argue for Hey Quick let's all intervene to stop someone being hurt, lest they go on to hurt anyone themselves) like & yet everyone is hurt, yet not everyone is doing shit where these arguments are broken out after they're already getting away with nonsense & we're telling others to just stop complaining, while also not everyone isn't getting shit on for being "disruptive" & perchance the real hurtful problems for trying to Stop being shitted on, or just have a little more breathing room to day to day live while it happens. everyone's hurt bitch let's get you some "what's the actual patterns & context of supported power imbalance made emergently evident by whose choices & life are constrained & undermined & made smaller" like. or the expanded idea as that well all abuse comes from Being abused, i.e. the Cycle, never mind that abuse is everywhere as per its being Normal, & nobody's intervening every time it manifests despite its supposed exceptionality thus rareness & supposed indication that someone's Being abused to cause it. just gotta roll with it, wow. & pathologize being victim to it, abuser in the making, Vulnerable People are dangerous, those insulated & given more access to systemically backed power in an oh so Normal way are surely oh so Safe as well. the very rich families are all lovely havens. the abused people are treated so well & embraced & supported by all the more Normal people they encounter, certainly not Also isolated, bullied, victim blamed by these Normal friends family coworkers new partners randos in public randos who are "professionals"

but yknow uh literally just be normal lol. aaand post. and like "lol being Anti Being Normal? just like a weirdo" like yeah of course. and what, i'm gonna try to win the heart & mind of someone like "of course you have blue hair & pronouns" & convert them, as would definitely happen if only all transgenderists were Normal about it? and the perspective of "what Unquestionable Good is ever actually coming from striving to get to point at Others as Weird" involves going like "nooo i wanna see myself & be seen as Just Being Normal" instead of like having ideas / arguments about how to be considerate towards people which can be articulated in any other way & involve effort & said consideration (ft. anything able to be questioned)