the earth won’t cater to you, why should ao3 ???
I only hate certain types of fic the same way I hate mosquitos and ticks. Like get these nasty little buggers away from me but also I respect their place in the ecosystem.
You guys gotta remember that the end goal of all this political shit is to strip mine public services and funnel money into the pockets of the wealthy. Don't get distracted. "Why are they doing this what are they gonna do next?" They're gonna strip mine public services to line their own pockets. Everything is a means to that end.
i saw a license plate this morning that said ‘drgn slr’ which probably means ‘dragon slayer’ but ‘dragon slur’ is funnier. dragon faggot. draggot if you will.
to summarize: you have the moral backbone of a flatworm if your response every time harry potter comes up is to make it about your inability to give up a book
god you have the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever
genuinely wild to me when I go to someone's house and we watch TV or listen to music or something and there are ads. I haven't seen an ad in my home since 2005. what do you mean you haven't set up multiple layers of digital infrastructure to banish corporate messaging to oblivion before it manifests? listen, this is important. this is the 21st century version of carving sigils on the wall to deny entry to demons or wearing bells to ward off the Unseelie. come on give me your router admin password and I'll show you how to cast a protective spell of Get Thee Tae Fuck, Capital
When you thought it would be easy peasy lemon squeezy but it turns out to be difficult difficult lemon difficult.
this hurt my chest. like angst doesn’t usually do much to me in any one capacity but this made me upset man. great job
The radio crackled on. Robin clutched the microphone as steady as she could, the poor thing not used to the rough location of Steve's beat up Beemer.
"Evening, Hawkins," she announced into the mic. Not in her typical bravado. This was all Robin: trembling, scared, but defiant against it. "This is Rockin' Robin, here with Sailin' Steve in what very well may be our last broadcast."
She adjusts her spear, getting Steve to double check his shield. Not easy to do while speeding down the road, but when their destination is the same no matter where he goes, it doesn't quite matter anymore, does it?
"It's been a pleasure serving you lovely people and WSQK Radio," Robin continues, her voice shaking less as the certainty of her words takes over. "But it's time for us to sign off one last time."
"The end of the world is calling, baby," Steve says, loud enough for the radio to pick up. It's the first time he's ever dared to speak into it, and the wave of power it gives him makes him feel possessed. With the way his hand moves off the wheel to twist the knob of the barely functioning sound board between them, turning the music up as he accelerates and fueling his words, he may as well be. "We're here to pick up the call."
Steve grips the stick in front of the sound board, clutching the leather as familiar as the denim beneath his war clothes. "We've got one final song for you all, dedicated to an old friend of mine."
He smells ash. Tastes blood on the tip of his tongue. Feels the sting in his sides like a call from the other side.
Not painful. Hopeful.
Daring.
Trusting.
Fueling.
"We're gonna finish what you started, bud. I'm gonna make him pay."
As the first notes of the guitar solo to "Crazy Train" begin rattling his car, as his fingers tighten impossibly more on the wheel and a tear rolls down his cheek, he feels the ghost of a hand on his shoulder.
Ring laden.
Strong in its fear. Familiar in its loss.
Steve grits his teeth. Takes a deep breath as a calmness burns just as bright as the fire of vengeance.
"Eddie Munson, this is for you."
Then he shifts the stick, grips the wheel, and speeds straight into the apocalypse.
notice how nobody’s asking whether or not boycotting makes you sad or uncomfortable ??? it’s because nobody gives a shit. boycotting isn’t supposed to be comfortable for you at all times. get your shit together and stand with trans women.
to summarize: you have the moral backbone of a flatworm if your response every time harry potter comes up is to make it about your inability to give up a book
ur local hoodrat, writing fanfic and being pretentious since 1679 | alt is ohsnapidroppedmykidney
46 posts