#walmart has ruined my day

[midnightsartcorner]

mfw i'm running off of two hours of sleep and being forced to enter a walmart

[stealingyourbones]

Why does DC hate Jason Todd so much??? He's literally Babey!!! 🥺

You probably aren’t me expecting to respond to this factually but fuck it here we go. Because he was a little rat fuck who replaced their favorite Robin character for a shitty carbon copy.

I wasn’t in the comic scene, or alive, when that happened in comics, but Jason originally was a carbon copy of Dick. He grew up in a circus, was in an acrobatic troupe called the Flying Todd’s, and his parents died by the hands of Two-Face.

The next Crisis had his backstory changed but the fans still viewed him as the bad Walmart version of Robin.

(For the readers:)He was a shitty replacement for Dick Grayson that had been Robin for so long and readers didn’t like the new guy taking over the role.

He doesn’t have a memorable Robin stand-alone series, he was uncharacteristically ruthless for a robin, he replaced Dick and didn’t have any of the Grayson charm that made Robin so loveable, he was arrogant at times and bashed in general. People wanted Dick. Not this other guy.

Nowadays why they hate him?

Simple and yet layered reason:

He went from a very wonderful villain in the comics and got later boiled down to an anti hero. Most people I know that dislike Jason now preferred his villain arc. I prefer it too honestly but if we didn’t have anti hero Jason, we wouldn’t have the interactions he has with the batfamily at all and I really enjoy those scenes in the comics.

His characterization is all over too. He goes from absolutely batshit insane in some comics to angsty ninja boy, to essentially a little bit feistier Ric Grayson (I’m so sorry it’s my take DC fans please don’t fight me).

Also, his death was a BIG thing in comics and him coming back ruined the meaning behind his death.

Back in the day there were three deaths in comics that always happened and never changed. They were deaths that grew other characters around them. Those three were:

- Bucky Barnes from Captain America

- Jason Todd from Batman

- Uncle Ben from Spider-Man

Their deaths hold major stepping stones to character arc changes and how the main character acted for the rest of the comics. They were always the main characters greatest tragedy and a core part of their lore.

Of course two of these are now changed. Bucky Barnes is back as the Winter Soldier and Jason is back as Red Hood.

But that death was sacred for a while. For 20 years he was dead. He was Batman’s greatest tragedy. You did not fuck with Batman’s greatest sorrow. And they did it after (incel) Superman Prime punched the universe so hard Jason Todd came back to life.

Additionally, lots of comic writers just don’t fucking want to deal with him. Same with Damian I feel like. They throw both under the bus because they’d rather be writing other characters.

Most of this is my observations but if anyone else has any other comments to add feel free.

[avonne-writes]

A quick birthday drabble for @swifty-fox 🩷🎂 Happy birthday, dear!

Here's Chick Harding's POV, picking up from the end of my latest HS AU chapter. It’s Gale's 18th birthday 😊

When Georgia said she was going to go get the birthday cake they ordered for Gale, Neil thought she'd be back in half an hour. But it's been two hours and there's still no sign of her. As he predicted, the boys didn’t really need any distraction at first, but when he hears the sound of them coming down from upstairs, he knows that time's up. He’s gonna have to cover for Georgia or spoil the surprise. From his seat in the old armchair, he increases the volume of the soccer game he’s watching and pretends to be engrossed in it. He hopes that it catches their attention instead of the empty driveway.

As they approach, he hears them rib each other about one of those video games they play online with their friends, then Bucky throws himself down on one end of the sofa, Gale on the other. Bucky stretches his lanky limbs wide and yawns.

"Chelsea-Arsenal?" He says before he has even closed his mouth. "Ugh, that was one shitty game. Look at that corner. Did he wanna shoot a pigeon or something?"

Neil chuckles. He loves that Bucky has no filter whatsoever when he's comfortable, and it fills him with warmth that they are close enough now to share mundane moments like this. It feels like belonging. He feels blessed that he took his chance and asked Georgia out that hazy summer day one and a half years ago. Every day with her and her family has been a gift so far. Even the hard ones.

At the thought, he glances over at Gale, who's staring out the window instead of watching the game. His legs are curled up under him. On the opposite end, Bucky swings his own up on the cushions to sprawl sideways on the couch. He’s too long to fit, but instead of settling down with his knees pulled up, he starts kneading at Gale’s thigh with his feet. Gale ignores him. How, Neil can’t fathom, but the boy looks like he’s so used to that kind of behaviour that it doesn't even register to him.

"Where's Georgia?" He asks Neil after a moment.

There’s an edge to his voice that Neil can’t place, something anxious. Always so hard to read. Neil wishes he could just comfort him with a hug, a friendly clap on the back or a terrible soccer game rerun, but Gale continues to be unreceptive to him. It makes sense, he thinks, stomping down on the anger rising in his chest as he thinks of Gale's father. Gale doesn’t know, but he and Neil had an altercation after they moved Gale out. But Neil can be intimidating if he wants to be. He doubts that the alcoholic bastard is going to cause them trouble again.

"Getting some groceries." Neil lies smoothly.

Bucky groans. "What groceries? Fridge is chock full already, there's nowhere to put it."

"Damned if I know, boy." Neil spreads his hands, faking indifference. It works seamlessly on Bucky, but a hint of sadness appears on Gale’s blank face.

"I would've gone with her if I'd known."

No wonder that Georgia asked Neil to cover for her. She must have known that Gale would want to spend time with her today and to help out wherever he can.

Neil opens his mouth to say something but Bucky beats him to it. "I can take you to Walmart if you want."

Amusement tugs Gale's lips into a smile. "Walmart?"

"Anywhere you want." Bucky straightens his legs to plop them on Gale’s lap. He scratches his chest. "See? Chivalry isn’t dead."

Gale's smile widens, digging into the apples of his cheeks. He shoves Bucky's legs off.

To Neil's relief, the sound of tires rolling on the driveway and a purring engine interrupt the conversation. Finally! She's back, and Neil hasn't fucked up and ruined the surprise yet. He pushes himself up from his seat and stretches, cracking his spine. Bucky yawns again, then gets up to walk off towards the front door with resignation, expecting bag upon bag of food that he’ll have to haul in from the car. Neil is about to follow him when he hears Gale's tentative voice.

"Neil?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

He can count the number of times Gale addressed him directly on one hand. He turns to look at him curiously. Gale is taller than him, but he looks small as he smooths a hand over his long hair in discomfort.

"I was wondering..." Gale clears his throat, then stands up straight and looks Neil in the eye. "...if you knew any part-time jobs you could recommend. Maybe at a garage? Or something. I can learn anything."

Neil hums, impressed. "I'm sure we can find something." An idea occurs to him. "You’re good with spreadsheets, aren't you?"

When Gale nods, he grins. "I think I have just the thing for you."

That draws a smile to Gale's lips too.

The front door opens, and first Bucky, then Georgia walks in, twin grins on their faces, eyes squinting in their joy. Her auburn hair looks windswept, tumbling over her knitted green scarf, and her cheeks are flushed from the cold. Neil wants to sweep her into his arms and kiss her skin warm again, wants to hear her laugh against his chest.

But he’s not the one getting hugs and kisses today. It's not his day, and he doesn’t mind it one bit, because he gets to see Gale's expression shift from curiosity to surprise, then joy as he spots the box Georgia carries carefully to the kitchen. She sets it down on the table and opens the carton to reveal Gale's cake. It’s covered in fondant decorations shaped like his favourite things, and cursive letters wish him a happy birthday in the middle of it.

"Oh." He says when he sees it, then looks up at her.

Neil can’t see his expression but he sees hers crumple for a moment as she pulls him into a hug and kisses the side of his face. She closes her eyes as she holds him close.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Gale mumbles a thank you into her shoulder.

After a moment, Bucky steps closer too and wraps his long arms around them both. That makes them all laugh. For a second, Neil feels out of place, but they pull back from the embrace, and the next thing Georgia does is drawing Neil into one too. She smells like the sweetest flowers and fresh winter air, like Christmas and home. To Neil, she's all that and more.

She gives him a sheepish smile when she steps back. "How did you know I was going to get groceries too?"

[hannigramislife]

hello again :DDDD my friend found this image in the wild today and we had a fun time discussing the many ways in which he was not the many things this image claims him to be. considering your recent media literacy posts i think you’ll have fun taking a look at this lol

have a great day as always! :))

Yes, hi, I'm actually gonna kill myself 🙂 thanks for ruining my day, I guess?? 🤣

Let's go one by one, okay?

"Incredibly smart and kind of terribly pathetic," this one is accurate as fuck, moving on.

"Men who are good with kids," I just physically can't see what people mean when they say this about Dazai. I've seen it often. I do not understand it in the slightest. He never asked Oda about the orphans who were so important to him. He never interacted with Kyouka as an adult and a child, he spoke to her as a mafia member reformed, and that was it. He never really interacted with Kenji either?? We didn't see him have any close relationship with Gin, the child he brought into the mafia, and it's known that he hurt Q. "You haven't read his entrance exam," quite frankly, I don't give a fuck. I have met Akutagawa.

"Men who get bullied by kids," he doesn't get nearly as bullied as he ought to. Please, please, please God, let Kyouka and Atsushi drain his bank account.

"Men who eat glass," Dazai biting the curb in 4k when?

"Men who are so kind and pure-hearted," lmaooo, this one I can't even take seriously. You can't be for real. This man wouldn't know kindness if he hung out at a bar with it every single day. Be so fucking for real. People confuse what being kind even really means. Being kind means being considerate of other people by nature. Every morally good decision Dazai makes is of conscious effort, because this man has never been kind just because he felt it. He doesn't feel it, that's the whole point. He has learnt to care for people, true, but by God, the man is not kind. Learn the meaning of words before you throw them out anywhere.

Yes, he's a bitch, next part–

"Bisexual men," yes, absolutely.

"Men who are dilfs," how dare you disrespect the actual dilfs all across the multiverse. Dazai is not a dilf. He has never known what raising and caring for a youngster means. Oda is a dilf. Kunikida is a dilf. Fukuzawa is also a dilf. Dazai barely qualifies as an adult. I wouldn't trust him with a sack of flour. He's a walmart Kisuke Urahara. He's what you give kids when they're like "We want a Gojo-like mentor!" and you say "We have Gojo-like mentors at home."

People assume I don't understand the guy– that's not true, believe me when I say there is nothing someone can tell me about Dazai that I haven't already thought and considered. I am even sympathetic to aspects of his personality that I dislike, but I understand them.

Doesn't change the fact that he's a bitch 😒

[authenticcadence18]

this is not really my brand at all but I’m just going to rant about Toy Story 5 for a hot second because the D23 sneak peek made me so mad.

TLDR: Toy Story 5 (and 4) ruin what made the first three films so special.

I’ll start this off by saying I ADORE Toy Story 3. It’s one of my favorite Pixar films. I was 10 when this movie came out, I remember going to like three Walmarts just to find a Jessie doll, and carrying her around with me in my bag all summer. I still have that doll, she’s very special to me.

Part of what makes the first three films so good is the passage of time. First two movies came out within 4 years of each other (1995 and 1999), third movie came out 11 years later in 2010. Andy is a kid in the first two films, maybe he doesn’t age exactly four years between 1 and 2 but he doesn’t have to we’re still in the range of childhood years, in the 90s. When the third movie came out a significant amount of time had passed in the real world, and thus it had in TS3. We quite literally felt the passage of time in that movie along with the toys. THAT is what made that movie so captivating and special, those trailers were so bittersweet and magical and REAL. I remember it so well. The third movie also FEELS like 2010 that movie EXUDES early 2010s it’s so comfy and nice (minus the traumatizing fire scene ofc)

(more below the cut)

Nine years later TS4 comes along and even tho the animation is prettier and the film seems to take place in the 2020s. everyone is the same age. Bonnie has aged what, a year? Over the course of nine real years? whereas Andy went from kid to college bound in a similar amount of time? where is the real world connection?

but ya know I gave the film the benefit of the doubt, I saw it I liked it I loved forky. But the emotional connection wasn’t there the way it was for TS3. But oh well that’s it right? How do you continue the franchise after that ending?

but OH! NOW TS5 is coming out in 2026, seven years later and GUESS WHAT!!! BONNIE IS STILL A KID. Look at this concept art!! She is very clearly still a kid.

she’ll have been a kid for 16 years at this point!! what is this, despicable me? (that’s a rant for another day shdjdjdj)

And she’s an iPad kid now which I mean. Yes. That’s a relevant issue for today’s kids. A GREAT concept for a TS movie. But Bonnie is not the character to portray this storyline. She’s not one of today’s kids she is a kid of the 2010s she was born in like. 2005. BONNIE should be in college and/or starting her own career now. Not an iPad kid. The toys should be with someone else, maybe a younger sister or cousin.

Plus!!! Guess who’s back in Bonnie’s room! Woody!!! so much for him saying goodbye to the others forever to be with his one true love right? The end of TS4 was not my favorite initially but I applauded the writers’ decision to make such a bold choice and change to the status quo. It echoed TS3 in a way, even if it cheapened the end of that film somewhat for me (in my heart the true TS canon ends at TS3 and TS4 is just a possible timeline it could branch off into).

But I guess the moving sacrificial end of your film doesn’t really matter when you can just change it in the next film!! 🙄

I love the sequence of the first three films so much, I love how they take place in the eras they come out in while also moving the timeline along.

Bonnie going from being born in 2005 to the late 2010s AT THE EARLIEST for these films to make any sense makes no sense. and if she’s born in 2005 how is she an iPad kid??? TS4 should’ve come out way sooner, and it should’ve been about a different kid.

(and I KNOW lots of movies and shows have a floating timeline where the kids never age. Charlie Brown, Phineas and Ferb, The Simpsons. but for those shows the setting changing with time while the characters don’t is part of the charm. The Toy Story franchise could’ve been that way but Toy Story 3 fundamentally changed that.)

(And look let’s say the movie takes place in 2012 and Bonnie has a rudimentary IPad 4 or something. why are we just seeing the movie now in 2026?? the timelines don’t match up it doesn’t make sense no matter what.)

I feel an emotional connection to the Bonnie of TS3 because she belongs in that time period, in the early 2010s when cellphone technology was just starting to pick up, when I was still a kid. And I think of TS3 and my brain screams 2010S!! MIDDLE SCHOOL!!!!!

whereas when I think of TS4 I’m like “has it actually been five years? it feels like it came out like two years ago” bc there’s no passage of time within that film to anchor it to the year 2019. That film came out the year before covid and it STILL feels like it came out like two years ago. that is telling to me.

Seeing Bonnie still be a kid 14 (and what will be 16) years after her debut feels inauthentic to the precedent set by Andy and TS3. I’m sure the movie will be good bc Toy Story movies are always good. But they’ve lost that sense of realism, of moving time, of leaving something behind and NOT being able to pick back up right where you left off. That kept the TS movies grounded in bittersweet reality, that’s kinda the whole point. :/

[tylersnecktattoo]

With no safety net-Chapter 1

Summary: Tyler, a black market mercenary falls for his friend’s cousin Amara. But how will it go when two people who carry so much shit from their past date each other? How will it go falling without that safety net?

Pairing: Tyler Rake x OFC Amara

Warnings: mentions of smut

Word count: 2.1K

CHAPTER 2

——————————————————————

CHAPTER 1: “tell my why I get this feeling?”

“Come on, we’re already late!” Amara shouted from the hallway as she finished layering her fragrance with some final sprays of her vanilla perfume and put her coat on before grabbing her gift bag.

“Okay, okay! I’m coming, woman, calm down” her best friend replied in a teasing tone as she checked her makeup for the last time.

Amara was invited to her cousin Dylan's get together. Normally, she wouldn’t be in the mood to hang out with him and his friends since the hangouts only consisted of her listening to Dylan and his macho friends talking about stuff she wasn’t even interested in, but she couldn’t let him down when she already had turned him down too many times before. So she brought her friend with her to be able to survive this soon to be, unbearable night.

Amara’s face lights up when she sees her friend finally coming out of the bathroom. “You look absolutely stunning, Court” she says as she hands her friend’s jacket to her

“Yeah as if I don’t have a goddess of a friend standing right next to me” she says back as they exit Amara’s apartment

“You’re still delusional, I see”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you’re pretty damn gorgeous but it seems like your dumbass doesn’t want to realize it” she argues back and gets in the passenger's seat once they reach Amara’s car. “And my name isn’t Courtney if you don’t end up getting a guy’s number tonight” she states as she raises her finger at her friend before putting her seatbelt on.

Amara lets out a snort as she begins to drive. “Getting guys at my cousins little get together is the last thing on my mind right now”

“Come on, you're 25 and you don’t have a boyfriend. That’s like, genuinely sad. And alarming. It’s been almost two years since Chris. You gotta move on, Amara”

“Okay, first of all, there’s nothing wrong with being single at 25. Second of all, if I decide to start dating again it will not be with Dylan's mediocre ass friends that can’t even hold a five minute conversation with me without pissing me off” she blurted before turning her puzzled face to her best friend, “And when did you start getting all therapeutic on me? I’m dealing with myself just fine”

Courtney just sighs because she knows that’s a lie by how defensive Amara is acting. “Look, I’m just saying, you’ve been through hell and back but you can’t let that ruin it for you. Not everyone brings bad luck with them, you know” She takes a pause before sarcastically saying, “What, you’re gonna let the severe trauma of losing your parents on the same day and having a cheating ex fiance going to hold you back for popping that pussy?”

Amara tries to contain her laugh that is threatening to come out because she’s supposed to be irritated at her friend, but she gives in with them both feeling comfortable with this level of banter. “I fucking hate you”

“Yeah, yeah whatever helps you sleep at night” she jokingly waves off as they’re looking for a place to park the car and finally find an empty spot. “Are you sure I look okay?” Courtney asks as she checks herself on her phone's camera.

“Tryna look good for the Walmart version of Jacob Elordi again?”

Courtney snorts out a laugh and playfully slaps Amara’s arm. “His name is Sebastian and yes. So last chance, do I look good or not?”

Amara takes a closer look at her face and smudges off some mascara that has moved its way to her eyelid and says her final words of assurance to her friend before they get out of her car and walk up to Dylan’s porch. Amara rings at the door, mentally preparing for a whole night of having to be social. Shortly after, the door opens and she’s met by her cousin and his excited grin.

“Long time no fucking see, cuz” he says and pulls her in for a short embrace before letting them in and giving Courtney a familiar handshake. He takes their jackets and hangs them before turning to Amara again. “Whatcha got there for me?” he says as his gaze is plastered on the gift bag in her hand.

“Just a little something”

“I bet on my whole bank account it’s a perfume set” he says and takes the bag to open it, to see that it in fact, was another perfume set. “I swear, that perfume obsession you got in junior year hasn’t left you for shit” he says as he holds out the Versace set.

“It’s not like you ever complain though?” Amara playfully says

He chuckles, “Touche. Thanks, really” he says and gives her an affectionate squeeze on her arm before leading them to the living room where everyone was sitting and chatting over the background noise of a football game from the TV, including Tyler. He had known that Dylan would bring his cousin and that he spoke very highly of her. But as soon as she walked in with her friend next to her, he was caught up. Dylan didn’t mention that she was so beautiful.

Where had she been all this time and why the hell hadn’t Dylan introduced him to her earlier?

He could tell that he wasn’t the only one being mesmerized by her beauty as practically everyone rushed up from their seats on the couch and went to greet her, but they kept it respectable though, because Dylan had indeed warned them to behave when she and her friend would come over. Many friendly handshakes and shallow hugs towards her and her friend later, he stood up from his seat to greet her too.

God, she was gorgeous. She had these black doe eyes that you just wanted to look at forever and the way her plump lips smiled as she greeted everyone and the way she had freckles scattered across her cheeks that made her face look adorable. And let’s not get started on her hair. It was the most beautiful and unique color he had ever seen, a mixture between copper red and brown that ran down so softly down her back. He was done for. He was down. Real bad. He finally caught her attention as he walked up to her, towering her by his 6 foot 3 height as Dylan introduced her to him .

“Amara, this is Tyler. Remember that Australian guy I talked about last time we met?”

“Yeah, right.” she said in a recognizable tone. “Nice to meet you” she shot him a friendly smile, locking her gaze with his.

Now, she was never a crushy person but she’d be fucking dumb if she said this man wasn’t fine. He was a hunk and he knew it. And he definitely knew what he was doing when he put that button down shirt on, hugging his muscles in all the right ways and revealing a bit more of his neck with a few buttons loose. Fuck, that trimmed beard too. She was a sucker for beards.

He shot her a smile back, with almost a seductive look on his face. “Nice to meet you too. You got a beautiful name”. He tried to stay as cool as possible so it wouldn’t look like he was genuinely going crazy like he was as soon as he got a closer look at her with that whiff of her fragrance too.

Yep, she was definitely interested now. She knew that wasn’t an innocent compliment and that deep, husky voice with his Australian accent was too hot to not be attracted by. But she wasn’t down that bad though, it would take a lot more than his attractive demeanor to get her to really swoon over him, or any man for that matter. And Dylan probably sensed the tension as he cut them off, not wanting to go through the same hassle that happens every time his friends tried to flirt with her as he thought she wasn’t interested.

“Alright so now when everyone’s here, let's sit down” he says as he leads Amara to the couch, not even bothering to include Courtney as she has made herself comfortable with her guy a long time ago, too impatient to wait for Amara. As Amara gets seated between Dylan and the armrest of the couch, she shoots a “I thought you were going to stick by my side?” look to her best friend across the room, who currently had the time of her life flirting with her charming brunette as she shoots back a “There’s no way in hell I’m gonna stick by your side and get in between whatever you and that tall blondie have” look, making Amara hold back her grin as she understood what Courtney was saying just by the look she gave, a result of them knowing each other too damn well for their own good. As she thought things couldn’t get any worse, Tyler just had to take a seat on the couch that was facing her sideways, being completely in her sight at all times. It’s like he was doing it on purpose, choosing the closest seat next to her, the armrests of their couches touching each other.

Oh, this was going to be a night to remember.

The night went on and Amara just sat there and listened to the conversation being spoken, occasionally smiling and laughing with everyone else, not being aware of the glances Tyler stole from her everytime she showed any sign of smiling just to see that dimple pop out every time on her left cheek. She was divine.

And Amara wasn't any better herself, giving him quick looks from time to time when he wouldn’t know she was watching and admiring his neck tattoo every chance she got. She couldn’t quite make out what it was supposed to resemble as she never got a good look on it, but it looked like three stripes running up his neck sideways. Were they arrows, maybe? Well, whatever they were, it undeniably made him look hotter. So extra points for that. He just went from looking kinda fine to fine.

Other than stealing glances from Tyler, Amara’s night continued by just listening to conversations. Courtney had left doing God knows what with the Walmart version of Jacob Elordi and Amara just couldn't wait until she got home and started to regret that she even chose to come. She was never much of a talker anyway, especially not in front of many people and especially not when the whole room was filled with so much testosterone and boring topics that were typically guy talk. It seemed like Tyler wasn’t much of a talker too since he rarely talked. In fact, she hadn’t heard him fully speak since their interaction. Another few points to the hot Australian. She never liked it when a man was overly talkative anyway. Maybe he could get it if he ever decided to shoot his shot at her.

Time went by and people started to leave as she got tired of all the babbling and got up from her seat to go to the kitchen on the other side of the house so she could find some sense of peace and quietness, lying about going to grab a drink and come back despite Dylan stopping her and saying that the kitchen is too warm because some problems with the ductwork. Of course, Tyler saw this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to her so he decided to follow after her, but not right away though. He didn’t want to come off as too desperate even though he lowkey was. But she couldn’t know that.

When the right amount of time had passed he got up from his seat, leaving the living room.

“You’re also going to the kitchen?” Dylan asks him with a teasing grin while pointing his beer bottle at him before swinging it to his mouth, knowing exactly what Tyler’s intentions are. “Look, I’m not gonna stop you or anything but just know that my cousin- she’s no weak flower, and she won’t hesitate to put you into your place if she doesn’t like you or if you make her uncomfortable. She’s not easy”

Why did he find that extremely attractive?

Smirking, he made his way to the kitchen with his desire to have her stronger than ever. Usually, he’d go for the tall and blonde bombshells that he barely had to fight for. But there was just something about her that just drew him in and made him forget about the blondes he’d call beautiful, because their beauty was nothing compared to her. Fuck, she had only spoken four words to him and he was going fucking crazy for her. What the hell have you done to me?

——————————————————————

next part !

[iseetheisland]

Exactly one person wants more lore so congratulations, you all get it!!

This one will be a little more goofy. A little less general abuse and moreso just being a bad person. But it will come as a shock to literally no one that my dad was homophobic (and at least flirted with basically any other bigot alliance you can think of). He was especially bothered that the word "gay" wasn't just happy anymore. He ranted about it often.

Well, one time he got into this rant at the shop with me for some reason. He started popping off loudly. He gets into the thick of it. With the "gay means happy, they can't just appropriate our words and change the meaning! They ruined it! Gay should still mean happy!"

That sort of thing.

I, of course, wanted to sink into the ground and decompose. He's just ranting to hear himself talk. But finally, I chime in with something like "well it still means happy too, right?" And he goes with a "you're right! We should take the word back! ...I hope everyone has a gay day! I hope I have a gay day! I'm so gay today!!! I'm proud to be gay!!" Etc.

Now if you've met me, you know that my voice has natural volume. Well, I'm like the diet version of my father in that way. My city is not lgbtq+ friendly now. Forget about at least fifteen years ago.

So, that's how my dad came out to all of a wide-eyed walmart to uh. Revolt? Fight the gays? Idk man but but I'm happy he found himself or whatever.

[koffeesfancy]

Second Chance | Lila Ike x Reader

Summary: Fate has a twisted sense of humor, putting you face-to-face with your ex, Lila, in a random encounter. The unexpected confrontation dredges up old memories, unresolved feelings, and the possibility of a second chance.

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Romance, Angst

Word Count: 5247

A/N: I know this is a long one, but I have worked very hard on it during all of my free time- whether at work or home. I'm sorry for the inconsistent updates. I've been super busy with work and falling into new routines in my new city. I think I'm getting into the groove of things, though, so expect maybe 1–2 updates a week. Also, I did not use my tag list for this story, as I was unsure if my few usual readers would be interested in another fandom. If y'all make it to the end, be sure to tell me if you'd like to be tagged in any other Lila fics- as well as your thoughts of the story in general. Enjoy <3

Of course, fate would put you in the last open lane at Walmart with your ex on the other side of the world at 3 AM on a Tuesday. It was just like Lila to be out in the middle of the night, shopping for what looked like several 3-lb tubs of play-doh, a frozen cheese pizza, and press-on nails. And it was just like Lila to realize she left her wallet at home after frantically patting the nonexistent pockets of her lilac-colored silk pajama set. 

“Raatid…” she muttered, running her fingers through her messy auburn fro before loudly kissing her teeth. “Now what mi fi do…”

The moment the words penetrated the air, you froze, every fiber of your being suddenly on high alert. That smoky voice—familiar, unmistakable—sent a jolt through you, stirring emotions you'd buried long ago. It couldn’t be, you thought, your mind reeling in disbelief. But the sultry rasp, the tone, the slight lilt in her accent—there was no misconstruing it. Your breath caught in your throat as you slowly lifted your gaze, dread pooling in your stomach. And there she was, as real as the desolate day you last saw her, confirming what you already knew deep down. It was Lila.

Your heart sank as you took everything in- her lively appearance starkly contrasting with the mundane backdrop of the store. The sight of her was stupefying. A surge of nostalgia, annoyance, and an unwelcome flutter of affection twisted in your chest. You couldn’t help but notice the little things you once adored—the way she muttered under her breath, the casual confidence in her disordered state. Panic gnawed at you as you debated your next move. Should you confront her, or flee before she notices you? The aisle felt both a prison and a haven as you weighed the consequences of either action. Every second stretched, amplifying the dread of inevitable interaction, until the decision was made for you.

Of course fate would have you loudly drop a can of chip dip, ruining any chance of a stealthy escape. As you fumbled to catch it, the rest of your precariously balanced items slipped from your grasp, tumbling to the floor in a chaotic clatter. The clamor echoed through the aisle, drawing unwanted attention. You hurriedly crouched down, desperate to gather everything without too much noise, but your movements were clumsy, rushed. The dip container rolled away, followed by a cascade of soda cans, and as you reached for them, your foot slipped on something slick. The world tilted, and before you knew it, you were sprawled flat on your back, staring up at the bright lights. The cold, hard tiles beneath you sent a sharp ache through your spine, and for a moment, you lay there, stunned and mortified, surrounded by the scattered remnants of your failed escape.

If you hadn’t caught her attention before, you most certainly had now. The sharp odor of old mop water mixed with the sticky sweetness of spilled soda assaulted your senses as the blinding fluorescent lights bore down on you. Dazed and disoriented, you briefly wondered if you had hit your head hard enough to be imagining the figure standing over you. But as your vision cleared and you focused on the familiar silhouette, there was no mistaking it—this was no hallucination. It was definitely Lila.

From your vantage point on the ground, the first thing you noticed were the familiar slivers of warm, tawny skin peeking through the gaps of her shirt buttons. The sight dredged up memories, each one sharper and more stirring than the last. You recalled how Lila’s preference for revealing clothing used to irritate you, igniting silent arguments in your mind—arguments that now seemed trivial in the shadow of your separation. Yet, even now, a pang of jealousy twisted in your chest, surprising you with its intensity. Why should you care? You told yourself it was irrational, yet the emotion was there, raw and undeniable. 

Slowly, you pushed yourself off the grimy floor, the weight of the moment pressing down on you as you tried to shake off whatever mire clung to your clothes. With a forced calmness, you bent down to gather your scattered belongings, hoping your expression betrayed none of the turmoil inside. As you straightened, you avoided her gaze, muttering a curt, “Excuse me,” trying to convey a casual indifference that you didn’t feel. But as your eyes flickered briefly to hers, standing just inches away, the proximity stirred something deep within—a mix of regret, longing, and a tinge of resentment, all tangled together in a knot you couldn't untie.

“That wuh yuh say?” she remarked loudly, her eyes gleaming with a familiar, almost playful mischief that sent a chill down your spine. It was the same look she used to give you whenever she was about to do something unpredictable, something that always left you feeling off-balance. Your heart skipped a beat, anxiety tightening in your chest as your eyes darted between Lila, the cashier, and the exit, hoping for a way out. But before you could even process the situation, she waved a hand dismissively toward the cashier. “Ring alla this together,” she instructed with a tone that brooked no argument. It was just like Lila to have you bear the expense of a middle of the night art project after years of no contact.

A resigned sigh escaped your lips as you forced yourself to move, your shoulders tensing with each item you placed on the conveyor belt. The items felt heavier in your hands, burdened by the weight of this unwanted reunion. As the cashier began scanning them, a silence settled over you like a thick fog. The monotonous beeping of the register, the rough sound of your wallet’s zipper, and the rustling of plastic bags filled the void, each amplifying your discomfort. The cashier’s bored small talk was nothing more than background noise, barely registering as you tried to focus on anything but the tension coiling tighter inside you.

With your purchases bagged, you grabbed them hastily, eager to escape this surreal encounter. You wanted to mutter a quick goodnight, make a clean break, and retreat to the safety of your car, but Lila had other plans. She stepped directly into your path, her arms crossed in a stance that was both casual and resolute. A look of mild annoyance flickered across her face, as if she could sense your desire to flee and wasn’t about to let you off so easily. Her presence loomed, blocking your way, forcing you to confront the reality of her standing there, just inches away, after all this time.

“Excuse me? That wuh yuh say?” she repeated. You could only stare blankly into the warm pool of her chocolate colored eyes. 

“Better than asking who let your crazy ass into the country?” you retorted, trying to keep your voice steady. But your calm was shattered by the raucous laughter that erupted from her. She doubled over, shoulders shaking like you’d just delivered the punchline of the year. Crazy indeed, you thought, a bitter edge creeping into your mind, irritated by the way your heart softened at the sight of her laughing—laughing at something you said. You always used to cave under the weight of her laughter, her smiles, her gaze. That’s why you moved back here—to escape her, to escape the hold she had over you. But now, seeing her here, of all places, in your hometown thousands of miles away from where you met, you couldn’t help but wonder why the hell she was standing in front of you again.

Her sudden grip on your arm jolted you back to reality. Her hands, as soft as once before, clung to your forearm as she tried to steady herself, laughter fading into ragged breaths. The pressure of her fingertips against your skin was almost unbearable, sending a rush of heat through your body that left you momentarily breathless. And then, there it was—that sweet, familiar scent of her perfume, the one that still lingered in the fibers of your hoodies no matter how many times you washed them. The smell brought a wave of memories crashing down, each one tinged with the bittersweetness of what once was and what could never be again.

You found yourself staring blankly into the forest of her coily chestnut hair, its wildness hinting at the composed chaos she always seemed to embody. Her head tilted upward, revealing an impish grin that stretched across her round, freckled face. Without loosening her grip on your arm, she asked, “You want mi fi show yuh crazy?” The playful challenge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine. Despite yourself, you felt your resolve beginning to melt under the weight of her stare. You had always found her gaze so disarming, a piercing look that left you exposed and vulnerable. Three years of distance had allowed you to rationalize this effect, convincing yourself it was nothing more than a manipulation tactic. But as her eyes bore into yours, and she tilted her head to the side for an obvious once-over of your outfit, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar pull, as if she knew exactly how to unravel you with just a glance.

“Wah, and yuh know dis de mi favorite color,” she remarked, her manicured fingers sliding up to tug playfully at the sleeves of your t-shirt. The combination of her familiar perfume, the way she looked at you, and the heat of her touch started to blur your senses. Your breath caught in your throat, and a burning sensation tightened in your chest. Six years of chaotic memories flashed before your eyes, each one more overwhelming than the last. The discomfort that had been simmering in the pit of your stomach began to ignite, flickering into anger as you fought to keep your emotions in check.

“Thanks, my girlfriend picked this out for me,” you blurted out, not entirely sure where those words came from. Though untrue, they served their purpose. The sweet look on Lila’s face twisted into something darker, her eyebrows knitting together as she withdrew her hands, crossing her arms defensively. If you were as gullible as you were three years ago, you might have mistaken the expression on her face for genuine pain and given in to the urge to comfort her. The conflicting voices in your head clamored for attention, urging you to fold under the pressure. But instead, you stood firm. “Speaking of which, I should get back home,” you added, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. You waved your bag, a small but pointed reminder that this 3 AM store run was meant to be quick and solitary—not an invitation to commiserate with ex-girlfriends. 

Lila stepped aside, her head turning away as her voice took on a hardened edge. “Should I care? Why yuh a tell mi this? Galang bout yuh business man,” she snapped, waving her hand dismissively. You caught one last glimpse of the redness blooming on her cheek before attempting to move past her toward the exit. But she remained rooted in place, still blocking your path. A sharp cough from the cashier broke the tense moment, and Lila hesitated before finally shuffling a few steps away.

“Sorry. Mi meant fi say thank you… and yuh look good. Goodnight,” she added, her voice quieter now, almost reluctant. She grabbed her heavy bags from the carousel with a quick, jerky motion and made a beeline for the exit, leaving behind only the lingering trace of her sweet perfume, a scent that clung to the air long after she’d gone.

You watched her figure retreat, making sure she had enough time to drive off to wherever the hell she came from before you stepped outside. The cashier, now disinterested, tapped away at her phone as you lingered, feigning interest in the caged balls and coin machine against the wall.

“Need help with anything?” the cashier's voice broke the silence, pulling you back to reality. Taking it as your cue to leave, you made your way to the parking lot. By now, it was nearly four in the morning, and the sky had shifted from deep black to a warm violet hue. The emptiness of the parking lot was almost comforting, and you found yourself contentedly trying to chalk up the night’s encounter to an insomnia-induced hallucination.

But as you pulled up to the exit, your stomach sank. A car was idling in front of you, its lights off, blocking the narrow lane. You considered reversing and trying another exit until you noticed another car inching up behind you, trapping you in place. Just as you were about to roll down the window to signal the driver behind you to back up, the door of the parked car swung open with a loud, jarring creak, shattering the bleak quiet of dawn.

Lila’s upper body leaned out of the car door as she shouted, “Guh roun deh.” Her arms waved frantically, trying to signal you to move around, but the effort was clumsy and ineffective. In her haste, she lost her balance and began slipping out of the car, tumbling awkwardly onto her side. The other car quickly backed up and sped off to the opposite end of the parking lot, leaving you alone, staring at her sprawled on the asphalt. A wave of pity washed over you as you took in the sight—Lila lying limp on the ground, half of her legs still tangled in the car, looking as helpless as ever.

Against what might have been better judgment, you stepped out of your car and walked toward Lila’s crumpled form on the cold asphalt. Just minutes ago, she had stood over you on the Walmart floor, and now, fate had turned the tables—you were the one towering over her in the dimly lit parking lot. As your shadow stretched across her, Lila’s round face tilted up, revealing the steady stream of tears tracing a path down her freckled cheeks, flushed red from the cold. Her blouse had ridden up in her fall, exposing the soft caramel skin of her stomach. Those big brown eyes locked onto yours with a mix of pain and something else—an unspoken plea, perhaps.

For a moment, you hesitated. The Lila you knew was headstrong, incapable of asking for help while always needing it all the same. But here she was, vulnerable and small, and the sight tugged at something deep inside you. A part of you wanted to walk away, to leave this mess behind like you had three years ago. But those eyes… they always had a way of pulling you back in.

You knelt beside her, reaching out to grab her shoulders. Her skin was softer than you remembered, her shoulders narrower, as if the years had chipped away at her. As you helped her to her feet, Lila’s legs straightened slowly, her movements sluggish. You guided her back against the car, your hands lingering longer than they should have on her, noting the warmth beneath your fingers.

The tears had carved a shimmering trail from her cheeks to her neck, disappearing into the dip of her cleavage. Your eyes drifted, unable to settle, each glance at her reminding you of everything you had tried to leave behind. The smell of her perfume—familiar, intoxicating—wrapped around you like a ghost from the past.

But even as you felt yourself being drawn in, a sliver of anger sparked in your chest. The six years of chaos, the mayhem she brought into your life, all flickered back to life in your mind. You knew this was dangerous, that letting her back in would unravel everything you had worked so hard to put back together.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your voice more strained than you intended, as you finally met her gaze again.

Lila didn’t respond immediately. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath. Then, almost as if realizing where she was, she pulled herself together, a shaky smile breaking through her tears.

“Yeah,” she whispered, but you could see the lie in her eyes.

The night was silent around you, the empty parking lot a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside you. The cold air nipped at your skin, grounding you as you realized just how close you were to falling back into old patterns. The thought made you tighten your grip on her shoulders for a brief second before you forced yourself to let go, stepping back to create distance.

“Let’s figure this out,” you murmured, trying to steady your voice, even as the gravity of the moment pulled you deeper into a place you weren’t sure you could escape.

Lila’s eyes darted away from yours, her expression darkening with a mix of hurt and anger. “So now yuh ago laugh off me?” she snapped, her voice trembling as she imagined the worst. “First yuh pay fi mi inna di store, now yuh a pree mi car a bruk up- mi cyaan badda with this no more. Go. Go,” she ranted, her hands pushing weakly at your arms, trying to create distance, but you stood your ground, unmoved.

“Crazy girl…” you whispered, your voice low and tender as you leaned in closer, closing the gap between you. The scent of her perfume mixed with the cold night air, intoxicating and familiar, drawing you in despite yourself. Her breath hitched as your eyes locked, the space between you charged with a tension that had always simmered beneath the surface.

You reached up, your hand trembling slightly as you cupped her tear-streaked cheek, your thumb brushing away the wetness. Her skin was warm against your palm, soft and yielding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, her defenses crumbling. “You know I was lying,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out like a secret. “Who would I be with when you’re right here?”

For a moment, she just stared at you, her eyes wide and vulnerable, as if searching your face for any sign of deceit. But there was none, just the raw, undeniable truth that had been buried for years. Her lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as she tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze flicking down to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

The world around you faded away as you leaned in, your heart pounding in your chest. Her hands, once pushing you away, now found their way to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips brushed against hers. The kiss was hesitant at first, a tentative exploration of familiar territory, but it quickly deepened, the years of distance and longing collapsing into this one moment.

Her body melted into yours, her arms tightening around you as if afraid you might disappear. The taste of her tears mingled with the softness of her lips, the saltiness grounding you in the reality of the moment. Your hands slid from her cheek to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her coily hair, drawing her even closer as the kiss grew more urgent, more desperate.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady yourselves. Her eyes fluttered open, still glistening with unshed tears, but there was something else there now—something softer, something that felt like hope.

You took a step back, wanting to give her space but not ready to let her go. The strain hung heavy in the air, and the chill from the asphalt seeped into your bones. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you guided her toward your own car.

As you opened the passenger door, you could see her shoulders tense slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her freckled face. You gently helped her settle into the seat, your hands brushing against her arms, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. You adjusted the heat, the warm air began to swirl around her, coaxing a hint of relaxation back into her expression.

“Just breathe, alright? I’ll figure this out,” you murmured, leaning in slightly to meet her gaze. Her big brown eyes, usually so vibrant, looked glassy with lingering tears, but as you spoke, the tension around her brows began to soften. A small nod accompanied a tentative smile, barely there but enough to spark a flicker of hope in your chest.

You placed a hand on her knee, offering a reassuring squeeze, feeling the warmth of her body beneath your palm. She let out a shaky breath, her lips parting slightly as if to say something but then closing again, a mixture of vulnerability and uncertainty etched across her face. You could see her fighting to compose herself, but the weight of the unspoken clung to her.

Once Lila was settled, you closed the door gently and walked around to her car, heart pounding as you slid into the driver’s seat. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the task ahead. Turning the key in the ignition, you listened for any sign of life, but all you got was a stubborn silence that confirmed your worries.

You glanced around the interior, looking for anything of substance. The scent of Lila’s perfume lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you still felt. With a sigh, you turned your attention to the glove compartment, yanking it open to rummage through the jumble of papers. Your fingers brushed against a few receipts and a stack of documents. As you sifted through, a piece of paper caught your eye: a registration form dated just a few weeks ago.

Curiosity piqued, you unfolded the document and scanned the details. Lila had just gotten this car, and the thought sent a pang of concern through you. How long had she been in the country? And why this city of all places?

Your heart raced as the implications settled in. This was a place you knew well—filled with hidden dangers and unfamiliar faces. The very idea of Lila navigating it alone, without a support system, made you feel uneasy.

You picked up your phone and dialed AAA, your mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened to her. As the line rang, you couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration coursing through you. It was reckless for her to come without telling, without making sure she had someone to lean on. And now, here she was, stranded in a parking lot at night, vulnerable to whatever dangers lurked in the shadows.

What if something had happened to her? The thought made your blood run cold. You couldn’t help but imagine her facing trouble alone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as the call finally connected, the voice on the other end breaking you from your thoughts.

“AAA, how can I assist you today?” the operator asked, and you began to explain the situation, your gaze flickering back to Lila, who was curled up in the passenger seat, trying to find comfort amid the chaos. You wanted to protect her, to shield her from the world that had been so unkind. But you also knew that she always made her own choices, even if those choices scared you.

After finishing your call, you returned to your own car settling into the driver’s seat, the warm leather a stark contrast to the cool weather. Silence wrapped around you both, heavy and thick, as if the car itself held its breath. 

As if on cue, you both spoke at the same time.

“Why did you—”

“Where have you—”

You stopped, your eyes darting to Lila’s. She bit her lip to stifle a laugh, and soon, you found yourself laughing too. It was the kind of laughter that felt like a lifeline thrown into the depths of an awkward ocean, a shared moment that lightened the tension hanging in the air.

“Okay, you go first,” you said, raising your hands in surrender.

Lila took a deep breath, her eyes searching yours. “Why lie about having a girlfriend?”

The question hung there, both simple and loaded. You hesitated, guilt bubbling up, and finally admitted, “I was scared. I thought if I said I had someone, it would put some distance between us. I didn’t want you to show up in front of me as if nothing had happened.” The words tumbled out, and for a moment, you felt foolish, childishly trying to shield yourself from the past.

Lila tilted her head, processing your confession. “Aight den. Fi yuh time now.”

Your heart raced as you gathered your courage. “What are you doing all alone in my city?”

The response came slowly, almost hesitantly. “I… I miss you. I miss home. Mi did waan come back home- fi come back to yuh.” Her words hung between you like a delicate thread, weaving together the fragile remnants of what you once shared.

You could feel the sincerity in her voice, and it washed over you, warm and bittersweet, pulling you back to a time when everything felt easier. The weight of her admission settled in, and you were left grappling with the truth of her longing and the complexities of your own heart.

You felt a whirlwind of emotions surging within you—nostalgia, longing, and an aching vulnerability. Memories of laughter shared, dreams whispered in the dark, and the warmth of her embrace flooded your mind, pulling at your heartstrings. The distance between you and Lila felt both immense and insubstantial, like an ocean separating two islands that had once been one. You yearned for the connection you had lost, the easy rhythm of companionship that had felt so right. But doubt flickered in the corners of your mind, mixing with the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to navigate the waters of this complicated past.

As you both sat in the car, the chill of the early morning seeped through the windows, the world outside quiet and still, as if it was holding its breath. The only sound was the soft hum of the car's engine, a low vibration that pulsed through the seats. You could feel it in your bones, a reminder of the tension that hung in the air, unresolved and heavy.

Lila shifted beside you, her movements drawing your attention away from the growing unease. You turned to her, your eyes meeting hers in the dim light. There was something in her gaze, a softness, a vulnerability that you hadn't seen before. It made your heart ache with a familiar longing, a desire to reach out and close the distance between you.

She broke the silence first, her voice barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife. "Can we fall in love like we did before?" Her words lingered in the air, wrapping around you, tugging at the strings of your heart. You felt a lump form in your throat, your emotions warring within you, a mix of fear and hope.

You wanted to answer her, to tell her that yes, you could, that you wanted nothing more than to lose yourself in her again, to feel the warmth of her love. But the words stuck in your throat, trapped by the memories of the past, the pain and heartache that had driven you apart. You glanced away, your eyes focusing on the windshield, the condensation forming intricate patterns that blurred the outside world.

Then, with a sudden, determined movement, Lila reached across the space between you, her hands enveloping yours. The warmth of her touch sent a jolt through you, grounding you in the moment. Her eyes locked onto yours, deep, earnest, and pleading. 

"Can I show you how much I adore you?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion. You could feel the weight of her words, the sincerity behind them. It wasn't just a question; it was a plea, a desperate hope for a second chance, for the possibility of rewriting the story that had once ended in heartbreak.

The memories of your shared past flooded your mind—the late-night conversations, the stolen glances, the feeling of her arms around you, the laughter that echoed through the halls of your old apartment. But with those memories came the arguments, the misunderstandings, the walls you had both built around your hearts. It had been easier to walk away, to let the distance grow, than to face the pain of trying again.

But now, sitting in the car with her, the darkness of the parking lot outside contrasting with the warmth of her hand in yours, you realized that maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe the love that had once been there, the love that had been buried under the rubble of your broken relationship, could be unearthed, rekindled.

You looked back at her, really looked at her, and saw the hope in her eyes, the way her lips trembled as she waited for your response. And in that moment, you made a choice. You squeezed her hand, a silent promise, and leaned closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I don’t know if I want the same love as before," you admitted, your voice shaky but honest. "But maybe we can fall in love for the first time again. Maybe we can learn from our mistakes, and start all over."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded, her lips curving into a small, hopeful smile. "Babe," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Come make we go fall in love."

You leaned in, closing the distance between you. The warmth of her breath mingled with yours, filling the small space of the car with a mix of tension and tenderness. Time seemed to stand still as the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in this moment.

As your lips brushed against hers, you felt the familiar spark ignite, igniting a fire that had been smoldering beneath the surface for far too long. The kiss was hesitant at first, a gentle exploration of what had been lost and what could be found again. But as you surrendered to the connection, it deepened, unraveling the years of hurt and hesitation that had built up between you.

Her lips were soft and inviting, a reminder of all the reasons you had fallen in love before. The kiss spoke volumes—of promises unspoken and dreams rekindled. You felt her fingers weave into your hair, pulling you closer as if to erase the distance of time and regret. The rhythm of your heart synchronized, creating a melody that only you two could hear.

In that confined space, the worries of the world slipped away, leaving just the two of you lost in each other. The kiss was not just a reconnection; it was a quiet declaration of hope, an unspoken vow to navigate the road ahead together. The taste of her was sweet, like the memories you cherished and the possibility of a future yet to unfold.

As you finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, you lingered in that space between closeness and distance, both of you aware that this moment marked the beginning of something new. With a shared glance that held a universe of meaning, you realized this was your second chance.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Man, I’m bouta go on a rant, so bear with me, but oh my god!

I love the internet, I really do. It’s wonderful, it’s great, it allowed me to meet and talk to so many amazing people… BUT ONLINE SHOPPING FOR LOCAL PLACES LIKE WALMART AND TARGET AND KOHLS AND HOME DEPOT AND LOWES… ITS FUCKED UP A LOT OF SHIT

We can’t have a pool in my yard anymore, and it’s still not warm enough to actually put up the pool even if we could, but I wanted my siblings to have something super fun to do today while we cooked out on the grill and stuff since today is like… technically the first official day of summer (according to me, it’s fucking hot)

So I’m like “alright, I’ll just get this!”

Because ya know, it’s nostalgic for me and it was super fun and I ASSUMED that ya know, one of the local retailers in my area would carry this absolute fun fest. My dad, 17 years ago, was able to just run out to the store the day he saw the commercial and pick this shit up, bring it back home, and BOOM, we had a water slide in our backyard!

BUT NOOOO

Online shopping has caused big items like this to not be carried in the actual stores because apparently they need more shelf room that isn’t even filled???? Like??? I went to Target AND a SUPER WALMART, and all of the shelves where something like this could be kept were just… empty??

And when I looked online, it was like “not carried in stores”. Not just for this slide, but every slide like it. And you can’t even get it shipped to the store same day, it takes 3+ days to ship it to the store and a week to ship it to my house.

So… sorry for rambling and ranting

But god damn

Online shopping for local retailers, and the bankruptcy of places like Toys R Us has completely ruined the ability to just run out and say “yeah, I’m gonna surprise the kiddos with a super cool 10ft tall waterslide”

Now they’re stuck with some fuck ass dinosaur sprinkler which, sure, they enjoy it… but it aint the same 😔😔

[metaforth]

Just wanted to post a reminder for all the people who love to virtue signal about how if they saw someone shoplifting they'd immediately call the police or notify store security

Walmart doesn't care about you. They won't congratulate or reward you. You'll probably annoy them if anything, especially the police who despite my disdain for them (ACAB) probably do have far more important problems to deal with than some jackoff swiping a steam deck from the electronics isle. Walmart wouldn't even notice the monetary loss, they're already grossly overcharging you for everything in the store and paying their employees as little as they believe they can get away with and employing as few people as they need, so they're hoarding so much money they'll never realize the loss even occured.

You're not only getting some guy arrested and possibly ruining their life over a crime that at the end of the day has no true victim, you're inconveniencing just about everyone else involved.

The security guards who now have to spend time trying to find and arrest the guy, the employees you may have told who now have to leave whatever register or department they work in to go get some security guards attention, possibly negatively impacting their performer in one of the minute ways that big companies still love punishing their employees for.

That employee who otherwise not only wouldn't have had to deal with any of that, but their workplaces rules 9/10 times explicitly forbid them from intervening with shoplifters so the store can avoid liability for any injuries that occur.

You aren't helping anyone, you're just being a nuisance. Not even gonna get into the topic of people stealing out of absolute necessity, if you think someone who cannot afford food still shouldn't steal it and instead should just starve, fuck you.

So if you see someone shoplifting, no you didn't.

[peculiar0ne]

okay

so for the record because i've never officially mentioned it- i have a chronic illness. it is (as of currently due to financial reasons) undiagnosed, but that's besides the point.

it mostly affects my legs, they're always in some sort of pain. tolerance has gotten lower over the last few months and my cane that i only used on my worse days quickly became almost useless, except as an assistant in getting up and down stairs in my apartment. i recently was lucky enough to be able to have my friends scrounge up enough cash so we could get me a wheelchair, as my health has declined so rapidly and i was losing most of my independence, having to rely on my boyfriend for most basic things.

i was able to take a day trip with some of my friends just yesterday, it was not only my first time using my wheelchair in public (minus a literal 5 minute walmart trip the day i got it), but also my first time using it in a completely different place from home. we were in a town that we all travel to quite frequently, but because of how far away from home we were (hour 45 minutes), and the fact that my comfort person, my boyfriend, was back at home stuck at work, it was extremely difficult for me to enjoy my day the way i wanted to.

because yesterday i experienced my first ableism encounter(s) since becoming an ambulatory mobility aid user in general. i've had ableist comments over my autism, adhd, and ocd countless times before...but this stabbed me right through the heart.

i've had my wheelchair for i believe 4 days in total now, i'm still getting used to it and i still have very mixed feelings about myself having to use it (internalized ableism, but mostly just fear of not being independent enough). i have already sat and cried countless times, worrying that my partner will eventually give up on me because of how dependent i'm slowly becoming...

yesterday i was in a location in which i have always felt safe in with my close friends. i've visited said place over 30 times in my life because it's so close to home, and not once have i had a moment where i've had to stop to sit and hold back tears.

tears of rage i think, mostly.

but also devastation. i knew ableism was shitty especially to those of us who are visibly disabled in some way shape or form (whether that be using a mobility aid or being a fancy walker, etc.), but holy fucking shit i am absolutely in ruins over what humanity has become.

i was wheeling alongside one of my friends to go to a store in our favorite mall while our other two friends stuck behind at the arcade, which we all agreed to meet back up at. when leaving the store to quickly visit another one, i heard a group of three boys saying "tokyo drift" behind us.

at first, i pushed it aside. i figured they were just pointing out something or watching some sort of clip on their phones. but then when i glance behind me, as i have caught myself doing as a cautious approach to still not being fully used to my chair, they're smirking cockily at me.

again, i push this aside.

but i shouldn't have because the moment i turned back around i hear "they see me rollin'", followed by a chorus of immature giggles, and the boys running away laughing and looking back at me and my friend.

i immediately dropped any evidence of happiness on my face. i was disgusted with myself. honestly it's only been 12 hours, i still am pretty disgusted with myself even though all i was doing was minding my own business.

now, my friends that came with all either have adhd or autism, much like myself. the specific friend i was wandering the mall with at the time has selective hearing because of her adhd therefore she did not hear these horrid comments, but she looked over to me and asked what was wrong.

i tried NOT to sound like a dick but lowkey i kind of growled when i told her what happened and she just death glared them and then took me to build-a-bear (our original destination) and bought me a kuromi plushie to cheer me up.

fast forward about an hour, the four of us are just finishing dinner in the mall food court. at this point, i was still upset but i had cheered up a little as my mind was able to be elsewhere for a while.

just as we're getting ready to go to the arcade, i'm falling a tiny bit behind. but the arcade is about 100 feet away so it's not a huge deal, right?

wrong.

two other boys, completely separate from the three earlier, look down at me with stupid grins on their faces and say "do a trick!" as they're walking away.

again, my friends were a bit ahead of me, and we're in a crowded food court so they didn't hear.

thankfully they all spend the rest of the night trying to cheer me up (i do not deserve them) but i'm sitting here typing this and trying not to cry.

it's so stupid.

but the stupider thing?

all five of these guys were ranged 18-25 at most. one of the guys in the first group looked to be 16, but i'm not sitting here about to assume that shit. it just devastates me that these people can just look at someone in a wheelchair and think "OMG THAT'S SO FUNNY GUYS" and all his friends will fucking agree.

disabilities are not funny.

mobility aids are not a joke. mobility aids are necessary for us with disabilities to get around.

honestly, i hope you don't look at your grandfather in a wheelchair and start laughing. because there's really no difference there besides age.

just grow the fuck up and start respecting us disabled folks.

that or kindly go fuck yourself!

thanks for coming to my tedtalk, i will now go contemplate my life and worry about my crippling medical bills :)

[sing-you-fools]

I have a conspiracy theory that every large retail business is trying to make shopping inside their physical stores as miserable an experience as possible.

Around me, we've got nearly exclusively self-checkouts, increasingly weird store layouts, huge decorative displays that look nice but actually take up space that would be better used by having the actual products they want us to buy available, no employees anywhere to answer questions (or clean the store - gods, they're filthy now), etc etc etc. It sucks. Having to go to the store ruins my day, and I avoid it at all costs.

Pushing customers to shop exclusively online feels like it has sooooo many insidious purposes. It's convenient! I like it much more than the hell of going to Walmart! But!

Once everyone's used to shopping online and there are no stores anymore, there won't be anything we can do about it when they decide that doesn't need to be convenient anymore, either

So they'll move allllllllll the warehouses overseas. No retail stores means more pesky employees in the US where there are labor laws!

Shipping now takes two weeks instead of two days. You're complaining? It's shipping from China! Be realistic! We did this to save you money! There's nowhere local to buy toilet paper? Oh well fuck you!

Taking away one more place that we are allowed to exist outside our homes so that we're pushed more and more into spending money to fill that void just seems like something corporations would do

They just want us one step closer to that Wall-E Utopia

Anyway all this is based on one moment of "it's like they don't want me to shop here" and nothing else, so please don't ask me for sources when I was very clear about it being a conspiracy theory. Do I realistically think the CEO of Michael's is standing there with a 20-Year Plan culminating in "Humanity Enters the Matrix," cackling as he crosses off "Replace all registers with self-checkouts?" Well... probably not. But it feels like he is.

[happygreenandserene]

And then another bill that was supposed to come out literally a week ago finally came out and I'll be overdrafted and now my phone bill won't go through. ❤️

Whatever. Not gonna let it ruin my weekend. Same shit, different day.

Just prior to this, when I thought I had a few free bucks, a got some cuties and strawberries and more electrolyte mix and that was my sweet treat for the week and I'm so excited. Aldi has been out of oranges in general and I never go to Walmart and did this evening and there they were!

And some moisturizer and face wash. I'm really trying to keep stepping in the 'care of myself' direction. Something more than bar soap in the shower, ya know?

One day at a time.

[growling]

Tribe Nine vs Last Defense Academy

What are your thoughts

I already kinda spoken about these at length a while back in this post but since new info came out on Tribe Nine (still radio silence concerning THL:LDA) here are my thoughts:

Last Defense Academy:

I don't get the hype. I mean I get it because Danganronpa man make another game that you can pretend is basically Danganronpa 4 if you squint but. Wish we could go back to the days where Kodaka merely alluding to wanting make another Danganronpa game resulted in him getting ratio'd on twitter

From what we know about the gameplay I'll confidently say its not my thing. I don't like strategy games. It looks like Forge of Empires mobile ad

I have a feeling (rare occurence) that it is actually a barely disguised gacha game

It's basically just Danganronpa with extra steps. It's literally Danganronpa but less good. They gotta do something REAL spectacular here in order to convince me they aren't just pandering to all the danganronpa fans left here.

I was wrong about the radio silence bit there actually was a twt post that revealed that there are basically THREE mascot characters. There's a THIRD one. And they all look hideous. Get cum shinigami away from my fucking eyes I hope they die in the prologue after giving the tutorial and we never hear from them again

Moving on to the art. Why are they white. I don't mean the race I mean why the fuck are they #FFFFFF. And I thought raincoders were unnaturally pale it doesn't even look good. All the character design suck except maybe for main boy I think he's fine. Especially the eyesore blue hair girl who approved this she doesn't look official my 10 year old self could make an oc with more aesthetically pleasing colors than whoever created this wretch

Takumi is fine. I could kidnap him. Still not over how he's just walmart Yomi but if he chose peace. Truly, a son, and brother -- I'm an extremely abusive father,

I have irrational levels of hatred towards The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy

Tribe Nine:

This one is actually confirmed to be a gacha game from the start but I can forgive them

As mentioned in the above linked post I just find its premise too funny not to respect. No I'm not gonna play it. However,

The only thing I care about is the superior glory of the character known as Zero. Holy fucking shit words cannot express how much I want him I mean how much he interests me as a character

Look at him. Gorgeos. He looks so much like Makoto. He looks and acts like a makoyomi baby which is crazy that I got like 2 whole ass kids that look like they'd be plausibly mine, and brother, I am an

He's even got a mask. This is fucked. Everything about whatever the fuck he's got going on has been life ruining for me. He's like a honorary blorbo at this point. I hope he's a cyborg of some sorts

I support him in every atrocity he wants to commit. Let baby do a little bit of dictatorship stop stifling his creativity

#1/Kazuma, while he's not Zero, which knocks down his position by a LOT, can take second place. He can have it. Not just because he's affiliated with <3 Zero <3 but because I love these kinda evil henchman type of guys. Loyal deeply cringe manservant lickspittle who's fucking obsessed and borderline gay about it. All my hopes for Kazuma is that he has to say any variation of "on it boss. you got it boss. right away boss. you need to talk to the boss. got a problem with the boss? well if boss says its alright then its alright" pleaaseeeee its not everyday that we get a guy who both thinks that he's the shit and is actually some more powerful guy's lapdog and doesn't mind it. I want him to be gay about it, like, Darkstripe and Fake Zilch levels of gay. I can make him so fucked up. I wanted to include another sentence but my life flashed before my eyes as I typed this I think I shall keep that shit to myself if I value my following

Why is the SHSL impostor here why did nobody tell him that he can stop impersonating Togami already

I don't give a fuck about any of the other guys aside from Zero & Kazuma. I will only ever check out Tribe Nine (on youtube) in order to look at every single scene with Zero and Kazuma and then be done I don't care for the other guys and especially the gameplay

If I had to pick a main character to care about aside from the aforementioned honorary blorbos, like, if I had a gun to my head, I'll pick dollar store Shinigami

[maks-punchout-hyperfixtion]

Punch out but inaccurate quotes

I'mma love this

Ships you may/may not agree with

Vicky Kaiser : I know you love them.

Don Flamenco: I am not in love with Bald Bull!

Vicky Kaiser , staring at Don Flamenco: I never said who...

Don Flamenco: *realizes*

Don Flamenco: Shit. Well, anyways-

Detirmed Delilah : Don’t be sad!

Bob Charlie : Why not?

Detirmed Delilah :

Detirmed Delilah : I don’t have a good answer.

(this implies to all Ryan's)

Andrew Ryan: Sorry I can’t be emotionally vulnerable with you it’d ruin the mystery.

Von Kaiser: I have the sharpest memory here - name one time I forgot something!

The caffinator/caff: You left me, Bald Bull, and Don in a Walmart parking lot at 2am a day ago.

Von Kaiser: I did that on purpose, try again.

Rick Bruiser: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they’re loved. Nick has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them.

Gabby Jay : By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don’t want to be at?

Rick Bruiser: I knew you’d understand.

Lucy/ punch blade: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of zoid.

Bob Charlie : You just said it again.

zoid:

Lucy/ punch blade: I am not a role model.

(the boys hanging out)

Little Mac: Christmas lights?

Rick Bruiser : Check.

Aran Ryan: Thermos of hot cocoa?

Rick Bruiser : Check.

King Hippo: Santa suits?

Rick Bruiser : Check.

Disco Kid : Shovel?

Rick Bruiser : Check.

Shark bite : Alibi and bail money?

Rick Bruiser : Check- wait, WHAT?!

Ardin ryan : Lol. Heads up if you try to make a candle with food coloring, the food coloring will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food coloring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you’ll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food coloring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter. Please take my word on this.

Glass Joe: What did you do Ardin ?

Ardin ryan : a Mistake.

(applies to everyone)

Little Mac: Lucy/ punch blade, this morning, I called you abhorrent and reprehensible, and I’d like to withdraw that statement-

Lucy/ punch blade: Aww, thanks-

Little Mac: But I can't. Those are the 2 words that best describe you.

Lucy/ punch blade: I intend to stay pissed at you forever.

Lucy/ punch blade: Even if I seem helpful.

Birdie mac: Then you're in luck.

Birdie mac: Because you don't.

Super Macho Man: Without ugly, there would be no beauty in this world.

Ardin ryan : Thank you for your sacrifice, Lucy

Gabby Jay : I hate to to tell you this, but one of you was adopted.

Birdie mac & Little Mac:

Birdie mac: Was it Little Mac?

Don Flamenco: *is throwing stones at Carmen flamenco 's window*

Carmen flamenco : You have a phone for a reason, Don Flamenco!

*THUD*

Carmen flamenco : DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

Disco Kid : How are you today?

Aran Ryan: Please don’t make me think about my life.

And finally,

Rick Bruiser : Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse! That’s what I always say!

Manatee: You should say something else.

[bulldyke-rider]

Parents will find any way to justify their behavior and make everyone else the bad guy, I swear.

A lady talking about how when she worked at Disney, she'd listen to parents yell at their kids for being tired after fucking 10 miles of walking in the Florida heat just to see the fireworks. And other people in the comments talking about "melt down o'clock" because parents don't take their kids back to their hotels for a nap when their kids take a fucking nap on a schedule. Any sane person would be like "yeah, this just sounds like an experience was ruined just to squeeze a few awful extra hours out of the trip"

But no, here comes the parents "they're yelling at their kids because people like YOU are death staring them" "I never get a vacation, so I'm gonna stay out as long as I want. Woe is me. You'd never understand my struggles as someone who had raw sex and kept the kids" "they're trying to make memories!!!"

The only thing anyone said was "why are you screaming at your kids for being tired when you disrupted their sleep schedule and made them walk 10 miles in Florida?" I feel like it's a valid critique. There's no reason to take your 4 year old, who has a nap every day at noon, get them up several hours before you normally would, not give them a nap, have them walk all fucking day in Walmart shoes with heat most these kids are not used to beating down on them, and expect them to stay up until like 10pm.

Pinch your pennies by making sure the time you're at Disney World, you're actually enjoying it. Not by being there a longer amount of time and hating half the experience.