#what was the reason??

[isekai-ed]

Why did they kill him off like that??

[youngpettyqueen]

underrated Hunnihawk moment is them telling each other sex fantasies and Hawkeye having BJ strike out in the fantasy

what was up with that

[kiwiorcore]

?????

[secretsbehindthenine]

*pokes head out of the void*

Hey. You. Have a sneak-peek at the upcoming chapter of the Idol!AU

~

It was a week before the Norrisville High Talent-athon, and he and Howard knew with absolute certainty that 30StM had the first place spot in the bag. Call it what you will—misplaced confidence, overzealous overestimation, shoobish narcissism, or a serious case of teenage hubris—but it was the truth! The whole, gospel-worthy truth. There was just something about the two best friends that separated them from the rest of the clowns and baton twirlers and accordian players that signed up for the talent show. Something major league that no one else had, that they tried so hard to master while Randy and Howard had it on lock since day one. Whatever it was, that special something was their ticket to victory. The coveted Carp-dallion and all its bragging rights for the rest of the school year belonged to them and only them. They were going to bring the house down and leave behind their status as faceless freshmen with nothing at their disposal but their good looks, killer vocals, and Bruce-tacular instrumental work.

And boss-ass equipment. Especially the boss-ass equipment.

“Levander has the best rock gear!”

They were at their usual hangout (AKA, the janitor’s closet closest to their lockers), practically drooling over the industry-grade amps, the top-of-line hybrid electronic/acoustic drum set, and the not-yet-on-the-market keytar Levander managed to nab for 30StM the day before. Had it been anybody else, it would’ve taken an honest-to-god miracle for them to score something this expensive and exclusive. But Levander? All he had to do to get them was ask his dad, who happily complied in the name of supporting young indie artists. Randy knew there must’ve been a lot of perks when your family owned the biggest record label in North America, but he wasn’t expecting said perks to transfer over to the friends of the kid from said family.

“Dude, it’s the straight-up cheese,” Howard called out from his perch atop the stool behind the drum set. “Letting him in the band is probably the smartest thing we’ve ever done!”

As if on cue—with as much grace as a bull in one of those mega-fancy stores that sold the most ornate and fragile-looking decor pieces ever created—Levander came barrelling in, his signature guitar in hand. He greeted the two with a wide grin and the single most horrendous guitar riff either of them have ever heard before in the entirety of their lives. Randy and Howard almost immediately slammed their hands over their ears, cringing so hard that the flinch their bodies did looked more like a violent shudder than a startled jump.

“HOLY SHIT, HE’S TERRIBLE,” Howard called out, his voice barely registering.

Randy hissed at an especially ear-piercing chord. “DUDE, ARE GUITARS EVEN ABLE TO MAKE THAT KIND OF NOISE?”

“I DUNNO, CUNNINGHAM!” The shorter of the two shrugged helplessly. “BUT I THINK WE JUST MADE THE MOST STUPIDEST MISTAKE EVER.”

“YOU THINK?!”

They glanced back at Levander, who was pretty much dead to the world. Eyes shut tight, humming and scatting along to some pseudo-song only he knew how to play. His guitar, the poor thing, cried out like nails on a chalkboard or a cat screeching bloody murder.

“WE GOTTA KICK HIM OUTTA THE BAND!” Howard yelled, half annoyed and half desperate. “OR ELSE HE’S GONNA GANK OUR CHEESE WITH HIS OWN SHIT-ASS PERFORMANCE.”

The black-haired teen vigorously nodded along. “RIGHT THERE WITH YA! JUST ONE PROBLEM—IF WE KICK HIM OUT, HE’LL TAKE ALL OF HIS PRIMO EQUIPMENT WITH HIM. I MEAN, LOOK AT THIS GEAR!”

Howard swept his gaze across the room, only to freeze in place.

“Uh, Cunningham—”

“IT’S AMAZING!” Randy turned his eyes up to the ceiling with a disbelieving chuckle and a wide grin on his face. “I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE HE WAS ABLE TO HOOK US UP WITH THIS KIND OF STUFF.”

The ginger quickly jumped off the stool and stood in front of the taller of the two. He viciously waved his hands in front of his chest.

“Cunningham—!”

“LIKE, I KNOW THE ONLY REASON WE LET HIM IN THE BAND WAS BECAUSE HIS FAMILY OWNS A RECORD LABEL AND HE GETS UNLIMITED ACCESS TO THEIR GEAR, LIKE THAT SICK GUITAR HE CARRIES AROUND LIKE SOME WEIRD PSEUDO-BABY. BUT, STILL! WE SHOULD—”

“CUNNINGHAM!”

Like a bullet, Randy ducked his head down, snapping his eyes towards his best friend.

“WHA—” A pause, followed by narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. “WHY AREN’T YOU COVERING YOUR EARS?”

Howard motioned towards the door. “He stopped playing 30 seconds ago!”

Lowering his hands, Randy turned his head and instantly winced. There stood Levander, teary eyes as wide and round as the glasses he wore. His shoulders were slumped, body hunched forward.

“Hoo boy…” Randy gulped. “He…he heard what I said?”

“Y-You…You used me?” Levander choked out, as if to answer him. He took a step back, planting himself firmly at the threshold between the janitor’s closet and the empty hallway outside.

Twin grimaces plastered themselves across Randy and Howard’s faces.

“Levander, wait—” they both tried to say.

“You used me,” he repeated, harsher. More strained. Like he was holding back either a scream or a sob. “I-I thought…Y-You…Y-You said you—”

“Hold on!” Howard cried right as Randy pleaded, “Hear us out—”

“NO!” Levander ripped his guitar right off of him and threw it onto the ground with a deafening bang. “FUCK NO! I…I…”

He looked Randy straight in the eye, holding his gaze for just a beat. Then—

“I HATE YOU!”

[enemywasp]

I'm sorry I keep posting my tiktok comments but please. What does this mean. What do people THINK shipping is for anymore???

[tis-the-boards-season]

I just saw a theatre almost entirely full of men very audibly gasp and/or moan at the site of a shirtless Hugh Jackman and let me tell you if was a religious experience

[watmalik]

We moved on WAY too fvking quickly from this…

[eosofspades]

i didn't have "i'm broken" teenage asexual angst i had "i'm literally being the only reasonable one about this concept and the rest of you are behaving like fucking freaks" perception issues

[malachitezmeyka]

*goes down for what was supposed to be a restful afternoon nap because school tired me out*

*has an absolutely fucking terrifying nightmare based on one of my worst fears*

?????

[canisalbus]

✦ Fashionably late ✦

[hinamie]

10 years later

[trekkerac]

I'm having fun part 3

[kwanisms]

Every time I see this, I'm gonna tag @yoonguurt

what was the reason

[krysmcscience]

I have some questions about karaoke night, Alex Hirsch. Very Important Questions. Which I will happily scream at a poor hapless baby triangle who can have no answers for me, and possibly also does not have object permanence yet.

Follow-up that is I guess suggestive, but let's be real here, Bill's a fucking triangle:

Dude slipped right into his birthday suit, lmao

this is so stupid :D

Anyway, I don't care what anyone says, this brilliant individual knows what's up - Bill is absolutely way more of a monsterfucker than Ford could or ever will be, full stop.

[faggotisaacfloofs]

the person who helped today when I fell out of my wheelchair actually did a really great job, so I want to share in case other people wonder what to do. [Note: this is not universal, this is merely a suggestion from one person, every wheelchair user's needs are different! I am a person who uses a manual chair usually pushed by someone else who is also disabled.]

Scenario: you see someone in a wheelchair fall out of their chair, and you have the ability to help.

1. Approach and ask "are you okay?"*

2. Next question if they say no, are vague, or open to continuing conversation** is, "is there anything I can do to help?" Or "what can I do?"

If they say no to help, then that's the end, just leave and go do whatever you were doing!

If they ask for help or say they are mildly injured, ask "what would you like me to do?" And wait for an answer before doing anything! If they seem dazed or confused, they might have hit their head or had another medical event*, or they might just be like that due to regular disability. Be patient.

Do not touch the person unless they say to, or they are like, unconcious in the middle of the road, ya know?? Wheelchair users usually have conditions that mean being handled improperly can severely injure us, you could cause much more damage than the fall.

Some things they might need you to do:

Bring their wheelchair closer (mine went about 5 feet away after it dumped me)

engage the brakes of the wheelchair

hold wheelchair steady if it's an unsteady surface (mud, hill, ramp, wet, etc)

offer an arm for them to hold onto to get up (them grabbing you, not you grabbing them) or move another solid item closer for them to use (i.e. a chair) [only do this if you physically have the ability to!]

If the terrain is rough (i.e. a parking lot), they *might* ask you to push their chair to a more stable area once they are back in their chair

nothing

Something else

Do what they ask, NOT what you think would be helpful. If for some reason you have to do something (i.e. you can't stop oncoming traffic and need to get them out) ASAP, tell them what you plan to do

Keep in mind they might also be D/deaf, have a communication disability, be stunned after the fall, have a head injury, not trust other people, etc. Be patient and treat them as a person with autonomy and agency! They might need to just sit on the ground for a few minutes to recover before trying to get back in their chair. They might want everyone to leave them alone. They might ask you to call someone specific. Their chair might have broken and that can be extremely distressing. All of this is like if your legs spontaneously stop working when you're out and about!

A lot of wheelchair users (NOT ALL) have ways to get into their chair on their own once the chair is close enough and brakes engaged (but it's hard from the ground!). Here's what brakes look like on a lot of manual wheelchairs, in case they ask you to lock the brakes. They're levers on each side and pushing the lever pushes a bar against the wheel to hold it still.

ID: A manual wheelchair with the brake levels circled in red and labeled "user brake levers"

*There is also the possibility of course that a person fell out of their chair due to a seizure or other medical event, so that is why it is important to ask if they are okay. If you saw them hit their head, tell them so. If they had a medical event, follow protocol for that, I'm not gonna get into it here (thought I could).

**sometimes a person will be clear after the first question i.e. "I'm all good thanks" clearly means they do not need you to ask another question, you can just leave them alone. Keep walking and don't stare. A lot of the time people will be a bit banged up but be totally fine and able to manage on their own.

TLDR: Ask the wheelchair user if they're okay, then what they need, and then do exactly that, including leaving them alone. Thanks!

[slothmonth]

I agree that "in Germany your boss legally has to provide you with work while you're at your job" is a bit funny considering the German stereotype. But I am really annoyed at people who act like this is some horrible hypercapitalist thing on that post about pushing people out of their jobs by just not giving them anything to do. When really it's very basic worker protection (within the context of German emplyment law.) Because under most circumstances you can't just be fired from your job. Your employer has to provide a reason for firing you if they want to get rid of you. You also have a right to specifially the work you were hired to do.

So your boss having to give you appropriate work makes illegal any of the following:

a) Making you clean toilets instead of (or in addition to) the clearly defined office job you agreed to do

b) Not giving you work and then firing you for not doing your work

c) Waiting for you to crack under the intense boredom of having to stay on one place with absolutely nothing to do for eight hours a day while your coworkers are roped into it to shun you (or hate you because for some reason you're the only one who doesn't have to do any work) until you quit "voluntarily"

or d) waiting for you to crack under the aformentioned pressure until you do what the people in the notes said they'd do, like watching movies or doing a second job instead which is something you then can be reprimanded and fired for