#fucksakes

[offtorivendell]

If you would scroll past or enjoy...

Art about Ship or Character A, but report or bully Ship or Character B art with the exact same content, you are a part of the problem.

A fic about Ship or Character A, but report or bully a fic for Ship or Character B with the same tropes/scenes, you are a part of the problem.

A theory or headcanon about Ship or Character A, but report or bully the writer of a Ship or Character B theory or headcanon for theorising along the same lines, then you are a part of the fucking problem.

Let people enjoy their fav ships and characters, FFS. If your response to seeing something that makes you uncomfortable (but is otherwise unharmful) is to report, bully or even doxx (this fucking fandom, I swear to fucking god) then you need to sit down and do some serious self evaluation, because I hate to break it to you, but the problem lies with you.

#i think most theorists would agree that respectful disagreement is just fine #we love to discuss things or we wouldn't be here #but if you report art then you are jeapordising someone's career #and if you report commissioned art or fic or theories then you're destroying someone's love for a series and character/s #if it makes you gleeful to do any of this then you need to have long hard look in the mirror #rant #fucksakes #i get sweary when i get angry #so warning for language i guess #not that this fandom pays any attention to those

[londonknights]

can i get a fuckin uhhhhhhhh american anthem singer who knows how o canada goes?

#fucksakes

[deadhumourist]

Anyone else getting pornbots in the comments now, too? 😩

#fucksakes #pornbots #tumblr admins wtf

[bam-monsterhospital]

y’know, when i was a teeny tiny middleschooler and was introduced to the idea of ‘euthanasia’, it was my understanding it was only a way to provide agency to those who otherwise had none: only setting aside legal ramifications against medical staff who granted the wish of patients that otherwise could not end their own lives.  

it was never about encouraging death as some sort of treatment or solution to people at large.  it was never about attempting mass murder of people who are suffering.  it was never about selling death in an attempt to underfund and get rid of real avenues of medical aide. 

but that’s what the fucking canadian government has allowed through.

#canadian politics #mas #medically assisted suicide #mad #medically assisted death #it's a lazy ploy to get rid of everyone who needs help #fucksakes #to avoid spending pocket-lining money on programs and staff #to avoid spending time and resources

[shiro-tora3]

You goddamn TikTokers, you ruined Z-Library! What were you doi g making fuxking VIDEOS PROMOTING IT fucking THANKS

#z library #fucksakes #we cant have anything ni e

[cuntyboii]

This time of year is one of the darkest times for suicide. And I just want to say from the bottom of my heart that if you need support don't hesitate. Too young to be lost to suicide. Rest in piece angel.

#mine #suicide mention #death #funeral #ugh #fucksakes

[dryadgurrl]

THE FUCKING SHOP IS ANIMATED NOW!

The blaring “NEW” was bad enough when it couldn’t be taken off, the little static sparkles were fine, I could ignore those, but now they’re BLINKING

like I don’t care!  I’m glad y’all have a shop instead of selling advertisements or data or what the fuck ever, but I KNOW IT’S THERE!  I CAN SEE IT!  YOU DON’T HAVE TO KEEP TRYING TO MAKE ME LOOK AT IT!

#fucksakes

[thebibliosphere]

So, I'm one of those weirdos who finds heat more beneficial for relieving migraine pain than ice, and I've just realized I was in so much pain yesterday that I burned myself and didn't notice.

Thought I still had a migraine and that's why my forehead hurt. Nope. It's a burn from where I was grinding the heat pack into my skull to try and relieve the pain. My fingertips are burned, too.

But god forbid the pain clinic prescribe me anything stronger than Tylenol and Asprin because, apparently, this is a better scenario than giving me opioids, aka, the only pain relief that actually works for me.

Fucksake.

#brb slathering myself in aloe vera #fucksake #chronic health tag #no one tell me about migraine abortives #none of them work for me #neither do the preventatives #I'm so tired

[spider-man-2o99]

hits the disinformation machine with a bat a big bat a big heavy lead-core thick wood bat kablam whack whack whack whack whack. miguel ohara does not have "spider instincts," he has never in even one piece of official material ever had nor experienced the phenomenon that fandom colloquially refers to as "spider instincts," okay, that concept is entirely and 100% a fandom-born headcanon that people created post-ATSV as an excuse to write the guy as a stupid Feral Brown Beast-Man caricature . lord have mercy. it takes. two seconds of research 2 not perpetuate racist malarkey. do better

#talking tag #spider-man 2099 #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #atsv #across the spiderverse #hi. dead canary walking here #one more person calls him Feral. calls him animalistic. bestial. stg im killing the hostages. #THE furthest extent of any quote-unquote Instincts that is ever brought up in SM2099 is a small scene where he comments upon-- #--theoretically Already Having th necessary neural pathways and instincts in place to use nd control his powers as he adjusts 2 getting the #fucksake. calling a mexican man that you already dont see as human Feral is not a compliment get it thru ur heads. #pejoratives r not Flattering th shit used 2 dehumanize Actual People for centuries isnt a Quirky Funny Thing to call an indigenous characte #christ. if youve never read sm2099 then ur bad faith self-righteous sm2099 opinions are less than worthless to me. #You Are The Emperor Without His Clothes On waving your dong all over the town square. just shut up already. youll look smarter.

[jellazticious]

i loooove the way you draw characters all shriveled up like prunes you should draw the whole pizza tower cast like that

Shrivel Tower

#jella answers #I drew this #Pizza Tower #I am not tagging everyone fucksakes snsnsns

[destielwarmsthecocklesofmyheart]

clicked on the article ONLY to see if they included spn

glad they did

i dont really agree with the Lisa and Ben part but everything else is damn right

burns me up

#dean deserved better #he wanted a normal life and you cant convince me otherwise #he wanted to be with cas and be like the new bobby #he filled out a job application for fucksake #jackles please fix this #season 16 #he did not deserve erasure of 15 years of character development #fuck 15x20 #finale what finale #jensen ackles #destiel #dean winchester #deancas #castiel #supernatural #spn

[bleekay]

i can’t stop thinking about miles morales 😭😭😭😭

#he didn’t do anything wrong!!!! #he just wants to do good!!! help people!!!! #belong!!!! #he’s 15!!!! #with a stronger moral compass than most of the adults he’s surrounded by!!!!! #fucksake!!!!!!

[powderblueblood]

omg can we see lacys dad being arrested? or maybe her first day back at school since it happened and everyone knows it was eddies dad that took him down?

CAN YOU FUCKING EVER!!!!!!!! i accidentally wrote 2k words on this because i cannot be normal about lacy, ever. should also mention that her father's name is mentioned in this. also, thank you for sending this in! it makes me real happy to know that people are interested in the background of the verse!!! *part of the hellfire & ice universe, obviously

You learned about guilty omniscience from your father.

The night that red and blue lights descended over your house in Loch Nora–a cage of relative opulence–your father was sitting in his favorite chair, drinking the aged scotch that he only brought out around his birthday. His suit was pressed. His hair shined, the salt-streaks of gray that ran like lightning shocks across his skull sharpened up against the light. His class ring from Hawkins High, which you always told him was tacky, tapped against the crystalline glass. Ting. Ting. Ting. Waiting.

Your father is the kind of man that carries himself impeccably, every single detail forethought. 

Even this one. He knew when they were coming. 

Like a fucking white collar soothsayer.

That always made your blood run cold. 

Then again, from the minutiae that you were able to squeeze out of your mother throughout the course of his trial, this charge was a while in the making. He could have heard that they were closing in on a capture, so he made sure to wear his best three-piece. 

At first, you thought the police car was for you. You had spent the entire weekend out with Carol and Cass– cruising around on a cloud of heady adolescent nonchalance, which also could have been the weed that Munson kid sold you. The three of you had approached him, slinking around the abandoned starcourt mall like a trio of vipers. 

Some rum and Coke in a Big Gulp had helped soften out the sleaziness of the parking lot. You were all moving a little slower than usual. 

Munson had looked at you–you especially–with some potent mixture of fear and resignation. 

“Half ounce for thirty?” he’d said, and you’d heard the grit in his teeth. Ooh. He had some kind of principles when it came to selling to people he didn’t like. 

“That’s an upcharge,” you’d rasped back, leaning out of the back seat of Cass’s convertible. 

Cass, who was oddly fidgety, looked back and shook her head. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Munson clicked his tongue. “That’s inflation. Cost of livin’s crawling up.”

“For you, maybe,” you muttered and the girls snickered. 

You turned back to him again, finding him glowering, brow all set and heavy. You understood why people thought he was frightening– the rumors of cult activity, animal sacrifices, ties to biker gangs, plus the garden variety he’s just a pervert! type of shit. But nothing scared you. Not then. 

You were bulletproof.

“You can do better than that.”

His stare met yours. Heavy, like a door that wouldn’t nudge open. “No can do.”

People rarely said no to you, either. Not then. It made you drop back into your seat like the spoiled brat you were, unimpressed. 

“What if we said you could come smoke with us?” Carol chirped from beside you in the back, just mockingly enough to go somewhat undetected. “You’d give us a discount then, right?”

Cass spun around in the passenger seat and smacked Carol on the arm, hissing, “Shut the fuck up!”

Carol was all, ow, what’s your problem?! I was kidding… but your head lolled against the leather headrest. You peered at him over your shades. His jaw tensed and winched, an active attempt at biting his tongue. You could see that he was begging for this humiliation to end. 

Despite all the hearsay, he was just some pathetic kid. And he clearly needed the money, or he’d have told you all to fuck off by now. 

“I don’t smoke with trailer trash,” you’d drawled. Pulling the tension, just because you could. 

“Thirty,” he said again, tone hard. “Take it or leave it.”

You shrugged at the other girls, reaching for your purse. “Well, we know he doesn’t take Mastercard, so…”

You had spent the following forty-eight hours attempting to drag yourself down from the paranoia that set in after your first joint. God, you were fucking horrendous at smoking weed. Still are. Everything was a threat; every sidelong glance from Cass, every hyena-like laugh from Tommy. You tried to stick it out and be cool and be normal for as long as you could, but the next thing you knew, it was Sunday night and you were sneaking back home through the backyard.

Your feet had just gotten a hold on the trellis you usually snuck down from when you saw the glimmer of red and blue flashes from out front. Shit. Your mother, your vengeful mother must have followed through on that missing person threat, because she knew that the only way to get to you was through a display of public embarrassment. 

This maelstrom of irony is what we call karma. 

At the head of the stairs, you prepared to edge your way down to the white-hot rage of your parents and the eye-rolling of whatever beat cops were unfortunate enough to have responded to the call. But police chief Jim Hopper's gravelly, monotonous voice carried remarkably well from your foyer. You heard your father’s name and your throat went dry. 

“... you are under arrest for embezzlement, fraud, conspiracy to distribute illegal narcotics–”

“This is ridiculous! You have no idea what you’re doing–Jim, can’t you do something!”

A starchy, federal-sounding tone cut right through your mother as you raced down the stairs, panic tightening your windpipe. “Ma’am, we would really appreciate your cooperation–!”

“Cooperation with what?!”

“Mom?”

“These charges are bullshit!” 

“Mom!”

She looked right through you, right to your father, as she always does–did. And your father, with his expression a kind of bemused smile despite the cuffs binding his hands behind his back, looked at you. He usually wore some kind of sheen for you; of pride, mostly. But now, his eyes were empty and deep and bore through you like a blade. 

Tears trickled past your waterline though you didn’t even feel them building. On instinct, your hand dashed to wipe them away– despite your confusion, you knew he didn't like that kind of pitiful display. 

“Daddy, what is going on?” you asked, and your voice was embarrassingly thick. Two of Hawkins PD’s finest slowly muscled him to the door, one dark-suited agent taking up the rear; he wasn’t putting up a fight in the slightest. Confident in this being a big misunderstanding, you were sure.

“Game face, Lacy. for god’s sake.” 

As he passed Chief Hopper, who stood in your doorway and exuded a puzzling kind of aura, he stopped. Looked right into the cop’s face, with a kind of seething glare you’d never even imagined he could muster. 

“To whom do I owe this pleasure, chief?”

“Don’t start this, Ray,” Hopper says, voice echoing tones of disappointment. 

Your father’s voice dropped, dangerous and personal. 

“Now, Jim–you really think that’s a fair thing to say to a man in handcuffs? Because it looks like somebody already got the jump on me.” 

“This doesn’t end well for either of you, you know that.”

“Well, you be sure to pass that along to Al Munson next time you see him.”

Munson. Your blood chilled and you instinctively grabbed for your mother’s arm, before she could start after them. 

“This is insane! This is in-sane– my husband is a beloved member of this community and–”

“Mom,” you said, rounding on her with a vice grip. Tears sparkled on the very precipice of your lashes but you willed them not to drop. “Keep that up and you’ll be in that squad car with him. You want that?” 

She exhaled, and you loosened your hand to stroke her arm– attempting to approximate something like comfort. Not like either of you were any good at it. Snapping back around to where Hopper was just vacating your porch, you followed him and called, “When can we see him?”

“After questioning,” Hopper grumbled back, looking over his shoulder to size you up. He paused. Pulled out a cigarette. “Calm your mother down. But bring a lawyer.”

“Surely we don’t–” you started, but he steamrolled you. 

“Bring. A lawyer.”

Eyes followed your father to the squad car, with its offending flashing lights making a mardi gras mockery of this moment of shock. Something wasn’t right– something really wasn’t right, but you couldn’t yet put your finger on it. Your mom wasn’t wrong; your father was an upstanding member of the community. A real estate mogul (as much as one can be in small town Indiana), a philanthropist, a generous investor… 

Yours weren’t the only eyes watching from a porch. The surrounding neighbors had likely caught the reflections of the lights in their evening glasses of cabernet and come out for a peep– police cars were a rare sight in Loch Nora. So rare, it begot rubbernecking. 

Your stomach leadened. In your minds eye, you saw the Hawkins’ phone tree light up like Christmas. News of this would have reached your homeroom by morning. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck– and that haunting of a name ringing in your ears. You be sure to pass that along to Al Munson next time you see him. 

It keeps on fucking ringing as you screech into an empty spot in the parking lot, leaving your car skewed over two spaces. You didn’t care, you hadn’t slept, you couldn’t think about anything else other than your poor father in that questioning room and your poor mother crying her eyes out over a bottle of beaujolais no matter how much you told her to lay off and that sinking feeling that something was terribly, awfully wrong.

It’s not that you believed what the police had said. You didn’t, of course you didn’t! You’d stake your life, your future, which you were so painstakingly building, on the fact your father was innocent. That he was a good man– but what had Eddie Munson’s shitheel father got to do with any of this? what could this Al Munson possibly get out of slinging false accusations?

Took exactly twenty four hours after that first pitiful day at school for the Al Munson factor to come to light. At first, you friends didn’t really know what to say– they handled it by kind of avoiding it, not entirely sure whether they should bring it up, even though you knew that they knew. And that they were frothing at the mouth to know more.

But after Munson Senior was a confirmed player in the scene (“Probably running his mouth about it in every shithole watering hole this hole of a town has to offer!” your mother had tearfully exclaimed), interest was piqued. 

"Like, what was your dad doing messing with a Munson? How does he even know him?"

And the fact that you shut down almost every question with an, “I don’t know yet, we have to wait and see,” meant that rumors started to spread about what your dad had done. Nasty rumors. Violent ones. 

Worst of all were the ones that painted Al Munson like some bad guy turned good, a victim of some thuggish mafioso taking advantage of underprivileged people in your poor, fair town! 

It made you sick. literally. You puked many times, and regained your composure, and went back out to listen to the rumor mill churn again. 

Motherfuckers. Pitiful motherfuckers. Something your father would mumble on the rare occasions you’d seen him really get angry. They have no idea what it takes to build something in a world like this. 

Once, completely lost in this thought, you ran headfirst into the person whose two cents you wanted the least– but who seemed to know exactly how he was implicated in this situation. 

Munson Junior jumped back in the hallway, as if you’d zapped him. If you had, you would have aimed to kill. 

“Listen, I–”

“Don’t,” you warned, stalking around him. You never had words for this fucking loser; you weren't about to start then.

“I just want–”

“No.”

“–to say,” and something turned in his tone as he started to follow you down the hallway; something foul sprouted out of it, twisted and jagged and angry, “that I know times are real tough right now– and money’s probably tight! I heard the IRS are on their way? Anyway, those court appointed lawyers really ain’t the worst things in the world… my dad only got sentenced, like, four out of five times! I'm sure your pops will be fine.”

A beat shuddered between you. You stopped in your tracks. 

“They love pretty boys like him in prison,” Munson finished, a self-satisfied smile dripping around his words.

It took everything, and I mean everything, not to turn around and use your manicured nails to rip clean through Eddie Munson’s jugular. 

“All the money in the world won’t save him from getting fucked like he deserves.”

A shallow breath drawn in, shuddering some. You tossed your head over your shoulder and let your narrowed eyes drill into him until discomfort started pressing on the moment, like a boot to the neck. That same hollow-eyed stare. You inherited a lot of things from your father. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Who are you?”

#powder room talk #Anonymous #hai brainrot #e. munson by powder #blurbs #published by powder #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #god the lore i do it for the lore the lore the lore #like lacy was a bad bad girl and played on indignity because it was one of her greatest fears too for fucksake for fucskaekeeeee #i love that you give a fuck about this thank you #l. doevski by powder

[mico-evelyn2]

Feel like it’s appropriate to post this now

[Vse Kar Vem by Joker Out]

#arizona coyotes #yotes lb #fucksakes I’m actually crying I love this team sm I can’t #fuck I can’t #😭😭😭😭 #I just want them to be happy

[bam-monsterhospital]

oh, this kid quantum looking dude in a time sphere in young justice ISN’T kid quantum?

oh, he’s a kryptonian? with a z on his shirt?

is he perchance a member of the house of zod?

you decided to introduce a black character amongst the neverending barrage of whitey white, and you went out of your way to make a villain black.

hey. hey young justice? why not make saturn girl black? hmmm?

stop making white horrible villains poc make HEROES characters of colour. 

#young justice #fucksakes #i haven't been keeping up #but i just glimpsed half an ep #i stopped at zatanna's arc #got bored #wasn't interested #supertalk #like yes we should be taking this endless cavalcade of white characters and actually inserting some variety in there #but holy FUCKNUTS STOP DOING IT WITH VILLAINS #WITH HORRIBLE VILLAINS #ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU DON'T AFFORD HEROES THE SAME TREATMENT #ramblings

[deadletterpoets]

Cassandra Cain becoming Batman and Cass being more like Bruce are two completely different things and idk a single person that wants her to be more like Bruce.

#cassandra cain #dc #dc comics #batgirl #batman #bruce wayne #in a lot of ways she's already like Bruce #you can argue if that's a good thing or bad thing #but her becoming Batman won't suddenly make her a different character #it's a mantle for fucksake