#or can't have something

[lastoneout]

Used to work at a theater and one of my jobs was going in to the auditoriums and forcing dipshits to get off their phones and/or kick them out if they wont and lemme tell ya, I could always figure out exactly who was on their phone IMMEDIATELY because it's that bright. Big fucking spotlight on your face telling me who I needed to go threaten.

Also you will eventually get kicked out if you do this and refuse to stop. We are under no obligation to make space for you, and if it's a choice between kicking one or two guests out and having a whole theater full of pissed off people who want refunds we are going to pick kicking you out. If you legit cannot sit through a 2 hour film without getting on your phone I won't judge you, I get it I have ADHD, but you need to find a different way to watch movies that allows for your fidgeting without compromising the enjoyment of a hundred other people. This is not a difficult concept. Sometimes you just can't do things. It sucks, but it's just how life works.

ppl are rlly trying to defend being on your phone during a movie in the theater what is going on

[prouvaireafterdark]

listen I know it's heartbreaking that Claudia dies and it's understandable to wish she didn't, but let's please not accuse the writers of fridging her. to do so is a fundamental misunderstanding of the story and is frankly insulting to the intelligence and skill of the writers of the show.

Claudia's death, and the overwhelming grief and regret her parents experience because of it, is quite literally the point of the entire story. she dies because Anne's daughter Michele died of leukemia when she was five years old and there was nothing she or her husband could do to prevent it.

writing IWTV was how Anne coped with the unimaginable loss of a parent losing her child. she created a story about a little girl that could not die and then killed her anyway. Claudia's death is a senseless, unavoidable tragedy, just like Michele's was. the grief that haunts Louis and Lestat for the rest of their lives is the same grief that haunted Anne and her husband.

so when you're accusing people of killing Claudia off to benefit a story about two men, please remember that in real life sometimes parents lose their children. please remember Michele Rice.

she's the reason Claudia exists.

she's also the reason Claudia cannot be saved.

[hell0mega]

people are drawing Steamboat Willie Mickey doing all this crazy shit and whatnot, but you could always do that. you can do that now, with current Mickey, just fine. it's fanart and it's legally protected. hell you could take Disney-drawn Mickey and put a caption about unions or whatever on it and it would still be protected under free speech and sometimes even parody law.

what is special about public domain is that you can SELL him. you could take a screenshot and sell it on a tshirt. you can use him to advertise your plumbing business. people have already uploaded and monetized the original film.

you could always have Mickey say what you want, but now you can profit off it.

[nipuni]

the snake of eden 🥰

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Hate hate hate how when I get angry there is a physical reaction but it's not glowing eyes or growing claws or something it's crying. This feels unfair.

[teleportzz]

"bluntly honest" autism but in the sense that i absolutely cannot refrain from complimenting strangers if i like their earrings or their shirt or i think they have a friendly-sounding laugh or i think their art is beautiful or i think the fic they wrote portrays the characters so well. "bluntly honest" doesn't have to mean "mean". i love to tell people things that are kind and also true.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

It's just guys night talk! Don't worry about it!

(Read Tiger Tiger and shake this man awake so he can finish that thought!)

[aurosoulart]

Local Wizard Goes To Store, Casts Duplicate On All The Items

aka I went to the antique mart this weekend and did a bunch of art studies in augmented reality! SUPER fun way to hone the ol 3D brush skills

[pookieace]

✰ . . . minors do not interact !

gojo and you fucking in missionary makes him dangerously sensitive as it is because he feels so much love as he looks down at you. how pretty you look, how a layer of sweats coats your skin. how your hair is a mess after multiple rounds. how you’re reaching out and grabbing at any part of his body for some form of stability while he fucks your cunt. he can see how you two are a mess where you both join, splatters of your wetness and white sticky remnants of his from previous rounds. you look so stunning. so so so beautiful.

he’s on the verge of cumming every second when you fuck missionary. he adores how he can see you flutter your eyes open and look so fucked out but still gaze at him with love. he gets even more sensitive the second you run your fingers through his undercut. he's groaning, hips faltering as he visibly shivers. feeling the pads of your fingers against his undercut is one thing but feeling your nails against them? that's another. three more thrusts and he's got his balls flushed against you, letting them drain, emptying them right into you.

[wolvesbaned]

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

please, keep talking about Palestine. Especially during the holidays. keep calling and keep protesting. make every life lost unignorable.

[mythicalcoolkid]

You don't wish your disability was worse or more visible, you wish your disability was taken seriously. Please stop confusing the two, I guarantee you would not get the support you need JUST by being more severe or more visible. Please listen to visibly disabled people when we tell you it isn't better on our side

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[quantumshade]

there's an interesting thing rtd said from the commentary about the "real mom" line:

i get not liking the line but like. it's an intentional mistake and an intentional character choice, and something we'll return to in the future, and that seems like important context to have when talking about the episode.

[jameszmaguire]

I think it would be better for everyone if I were to be left alone in the future. Don't you?

[swampybogg]

[nenayaquisieras]

Simon has always been confused on why you gift him toys. Sure, most of the gifts you gave him were some of the things he liked. Bourbon, masks, gloves, make up for him to smudge his eyes with, some daggers and knives. Things that we're useful for him, just him. But later, you gifted him a toy airplane. He makes a comment about it, saying he is not a child anymore and you were better off giving it to Johnny instead.

"No, this is specifically for you, take it."

When he gets to him room, he walks toward his trash can, opening it with the tip of his boot. He gives one more look at the toy, his mood souring before throwing it into the trash. He goes on about his day, training, signing paper work, drills. Doing anything to ignore the pain stinging memories that the toy brought back. Emotions that were buried thousands of feet deep it could reach hell itself. Later, he lies awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, avoiding looking at the cylinder shape that's calling for him in his peripheral.

Fuck.

He pulls the covers off vigorously and stomps over to the trash can. He is standing over it like he's trying to intimidate it, as if it was an enemy he's trying to get rid of in battle. To anyone else, the scene would look comical.

He sighs to himself and reaches down to take out the toy he so cruelly threw away. He sets it on his desk and quickly walks toward his bed, facing away from his desk.

The next day, he wakes up feeling different. He swears he sees his room more vibrant, more lively. That energy follows him through out the day, having his other teammates notice his rather bright mood.

You catch him in the hallway. Pulling him aside to ask him about the paper work you left at his desk this morning. Of course, he notices the way you smile brightly, more so than usual. But he notices that you're not looking at him. More like looking at something next to him.

"What's got you so cheery?"

You turn to look up at him, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"I just..." You take a quick glance at the spot next to him, before bringing your eyes back upon his.

"I just hope you liked your gift." The same bright smile appearing on your face.

He stares at you, examining your words. Your expression.

You think you see his eyes crinkle a bit.

"Yea,"

"I liked it."