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#the US is awful
beaft · 1 month
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do genuinely find it fascinating how indeed.com is like the biggest job-hunting website out there and yet manages to be profoundly useless in every possible way
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puddingcatbeans · 1 year
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to be perfectly honest. i don't care if it is cheesy or cliched or idealistic. i like stories where the core of it is about kindness, the warmth we can offer others and the gentleness we receive in return. maybe the moral of the story IS love triumphs. it better fucking be
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demigods-posts · 1 month
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currently obsessed with the idea of everyone viewing percy as a forced to never be messed with. for the sea is unpredictable and does not like to be restrained and all that jazz. except, frank and hazel. who only see him as just a little guy. a soldier left to his own devices out on the streets with nothing to comfort him but a panda pillow pet and a lingering memory of a girl he loves. he's just a little guy you guys.
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thecorvidforest · 1 year
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boy it would be nice to be able to google something related to personality disorders, psychosis, intellectual disabilities, autism, DID/OSDD, etcetera without finding majority articles that are like “how to deal with a person with X” “how to cope with your child with X” “how to spot someone faking X” “can people with X be cured?”
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Vanny mixed up FNAF Help wanted with Digital circus,,
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sameboot · 1 year
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Simon petrikov coping FAIL compilation
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goji-pilled · 2 years
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being a fan of media that requires critical thinking skills and cant just be broken down into "this one bad this one good" is so hard like can you imagine the fucking takes im seeing
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ratxbones · 1 month
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brain damage
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zephyrchama · 2 months
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I hope demons have sayings that sound really weird and messed up to humans, just as there are many diverse sayings across varying human languages that don't always translate easily.
---01
Lucifer looked up warily as you entered his office before breathing a sigh of relief. "I thought you were Mammon, here to give me another headache."
You strided over to his desk to take a peek at what he was working on. It looked boring. "We both know you love your little brother. What could be so bad this time?"
Lucifer buried his eyes in his hands, brushing his hair aside with the tail end of a pen. "He's been gnawing on my toenails all week."
You coughed in surprise, smacking your chest to loosen up the muscles so that clarifying questions could be asked. "What? Why? How?"
"Just general Mammon buffoonery as usual. For some reason he's especially persistent this week."
"I have literally never seen Mammon chewing on toenails..." Your lip curled back in disgust just imagining it. "Has he... done this before?"
"What?" Lucifer narrowed his eyes, puzzled. "Oh." His gaze softened once he realized what was happening and he huffed in amusement. "Mammon hasn't actually been gnawing on my toenails. It means he's getting on my nerves, as you might say."
You clasped your hands together and sighed, letting a wave of relief wash over you. "Please. Just say that next time."
----02
"C'mon, c'mon! If ya move any slower I'm gonna exfoliate Diavolo!"
You were running as fast as you could, despite Mammon being the reason for your tardiness. You didn't have much to lose, but Mammon could be in deep trouble for missing another morning class.
You wheezed and almost ran into him, not realizing he kindly came back to carry you. "Wh..." After a few deep breaths, you choked out your question. "You're gonna what? To Diavolo?"
Mammon thrust his bag in your arms in a rush and picked you up instead. He spoke as he began running, "yeah. He's gonna have my neck if I'm late again!"
"I get that, but is Barbatos gonna make you wash him...? Or...?"
"Wha? Are you still half asleep? Is that why you're runnin' so slow?"
You leaned your head back against his upper arm to stare up at him in frustration. He couldn't ignore your pouty face inches from his own. Mammon's ears grew red. "Knock it off!"
"Tell me what you mean!" you ordered.
Mammon growled and ran even faster. "What do you mean? I'm just tryna get us to class!"
---03
You scooted your seat closer to Leviathan. He perked right up and froze as you approached to whisper in his ear.
"Levi, XYZ."
"W-w-what? Is that a code?"
"No, XYZ. PDQ."
He reached for a pen and began noting the letters down. "P... D... Q... Got it. What's next?"
You shook your head. "No, Levi, your barn door is open."
"What game are we talking about? I haven't picked up Moondrop Basin in a few weeks."
You made a zipping-up motion with your hand. "Your fly!"
"Oh." Leviathan ruffled the back of his hair and swatted the air around his head. "Is it gone now? I didn't see any bugs."
Though reluctant to be so blunt, you were out of euphemisms. "Levi, your pants' zipper is open."
With an "eep!" he turned away to fix his problem. It took a few seconds. In his haste, the zipper kept getting stuck. He was mad when he turned back around, his face colored crimson. "Why didn't you just tell me? Without turning it into... into some game!"
"I did! XYZ, PDQ, That's what we say in the human world! Examine your zipper, quick!"
"That's so dumb!" he seethed, punching his knee. "What a spumid flaming cabbage. Your sayings are so weird."
---04
"Ready for the next one?"
"Hit me," you told Satan.
He grimaced from across the desk, raising his eyes from the paper to look at you in concern. "What? No, I'm not going to do that."
"Not literally, it's a human saying. It means 'give it to me,' or something like that."
"Oh." Satan jotted that down in the margins of his own notes before reading off the next phrase on his list. "This is one of my favorites. It's a colorful saying, but if you're really mad at someone you can call them a snot-cobbling banshee. I like to say this while cursing their next three generations."
You wrote that down. "How often do you use this saying?"
"Not too often. Well, maybe once a week with my brothers. It goes along with this next phrase which implies someone is dangerously stupid. Barbed dingbat."
You nodded. You were truly learning so much on this cultural exchange program.
---05
Asmodeus came into the kitchen as you were preparing dinner and wrapped his arms around your neck. He looked exhausted.
"Careful, I've got a knife, don't want to accidentally nick you," you warned. "What's up? Long day?"
"Like you wouldn't believe." Asmodeus peeped over your shoulder to look at the vegetables you were cutting. "I'm so glad you're home. You know, all day, all I could think about was..."
He proceeded to say some incredibly vulgar things. Detailed depictions of debauchery. Irredeemable acts of indecency that cannot be repeated on this blog. It made you put the knife down in a tizzy.
"Are those more demon idioms?" You snickered awkwardly and wiped your hands on a towel. "I've been learning about your sayings recently. Can't say I've heard those ones yet."
"What? Oh, no." Asmodeus lifted your hand, raising it to his lips to lick a stray fleck of vegetable skin off your fingertip. "These aren't sayings, this is just stuff I've wanted to do all day."
---06
"I could just eat you up."
This was something Beelzebub said often, and something he repeated again today. His hands were occupied with a fresh four-pounder with cheese, but his eyes kept drifting from it to watch you shoot paper balls into a wastebasket.
"You know, humans have the same saying. Isn't that funny?" You bounced up to grab some of the wads on the floor that didn't make it into the basket, to try again.
Beelzebub swallowed the mass in his mouth. "Really?" he asked between bites. "I thought you guys stopped doing cannibalism, mostly."
"Uh." You missed your throw. What should have been an easy shoot bounced off the edge and rolled away from the wastebasket. "Yeah, we did. Just so we're on the same page, you're saying I'm cute, right?"
Beelzebub was concerningly quiet as he chewed.
---07
"Are you on your way back to class?" Belphegor stopped you in the hall. You hadn't even seen him there on the ground, curled up next to a shady pillar.
"Skipping class again?" you asked. "I thought you liked magic theory."
"Maybe," he yawned. "It's too easy sometimes."
Belphegor fished around in his pocket for a second before pulling out a tightly folded-up sheet of paper. He offered it up. "Can you turn this in for me? I don't want my grades dropping over late homework."
"Sure thing, but it might be better to turn it in yourself. I heard Barbatos is doing random checks in all classes this week. He'll notice you missing."
"Nah." Belphegor's head drooped down as he prepared to doze off again. "If you see him, just tell him I'm being flerchen in the garden."
That sounded innocent enough. "Okay. What does that mean?"
"Means I've got the sniffles," he lied.
---08
Barbatos' eyes grew big and he placed a hand over his heart, furthering crumpling Belphegor's homework sheet in the process. He looked around to make sure nobody overheard before leaning in. "I must ask that you never say that again."
Behind him, Diavolo's palm was clasped over his mouth as he struggled not to draw attention with loud guffaws. He had his back to the classroom, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
"Why not?" You nervously shifted from one foot to another. You'd been had.
"It's not a topic I can explain here. Perhaps you and the Young Master should excuse yourselves for now. I'll come collect you both later."
Barbatos readily escorted you and Diavolo out of the room, shutting the door behind you so that class could begin without interruption.
"I'm just the messenger," you tried to defend yourself. Diavolo's fit of giggles was renewed. He grabbed on to your shoulder for stability while doubled over, trying to ride out the laughter.
"Did... did Belphegor tell you to say that?" He wiped a tear running down his face. You furiously nodded.
"Haha! Do you remember where he's hiding? I'd sure like to have a word with him."
You couldn't tell if Diavolo was going to praise Belphegor or tear him a new one. Perhaps a mix of both. However, the curiosity over what you said was overwhelming. You wanted to know the full extent of what it meant before seeing Belphegor again.
You decided to bargain with the prince. "I'll show you, but first you have to tell me what that means."
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yeyinde · 2 months
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Price lets his team fuck his pretty wife.
it's an open secret, of course. one of those things that everyone knows but doesn't say anything about. theories whispered in the dark of team building, maybe. wifesharing. cuck fantasy. lucky fucking group, eh. where can they apply?
but they're all wrong.
there's nothing poly about this arrangement. no jealousy, either, despite their claims of infighting over you.
Price just sees them as objects for him to use however he likes. something for him to play with when he feels the urge. wants to amuse himself.
to him, letting any of them fuck you is no different than the pretty toys he lets you keep in your bedside drawer. nothing more, nothing less.
(and all his pets know better than to think otherwise.)
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tuttle-did-it · 1 month
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You know, it's genuinely sad to me that aging favourite character actors no longer have any fun murder-mystery tv shows to guest-star as murders on.
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tearfulangel · 2 months
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Rebeca Andrade performs her olympic floor routine beautifully, with a difficulty score of 5.9 and an execution score of 8.266, totalling in at 14.166, she wins first place and takes home the gold for Brazil! Making history and becoming the Brazilian athlete with the most olympic medals ever!
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pinacoladamatata · 1 year
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I realize now I've never really had anyone. not really. nothing that compares to you.
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Language! Part 2
[1 - 2]
The speech bubbles are a little odd, a holdover from when I used to draw these small and all on one layer and canvas.
Somehow, some way, Splinter’ll always catch them and make them pony up to the swear jar! Darn ninja dads, I swear, it’s like they can hide in the walls or something
Anyway, thought it would be fun to hint at Splinter having a life and acquaintances from his time in yokai society, in that weird way that parents have when they mention a crazy skill they picked up from their mysterious life before parenthood that their kids have no knowledge of yet. Plus, it’s interesting to think about what Splinter does in his day. He loved entertaining and stardom, I doubt he’d up and quit forever. His voice is the last thing truly his after his transformation, I’m sure he’d use it somehow to keep doing what he loved! He’s also a ninja warrior specifically trained to fight the supernatural, that probably comes with some pretty fun skills!
My mom once stole a boat and sailed to an abandoned condemned island for a whole couple of days, a story which cropped up once and then wasn’t explained until years later, much to my intrigue. She’s so calm and well collected, it was crazy to hear the shit she used to get up to lol
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cangrellesteponme · 6 months
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wife
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azfellandco · 1 year
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It's about Crowley bearing witness to Aziraphale's desire, about the way that desire is animal and visceral and enormous and terrifying*. And about how Crowley sees that and wants it. Crowley offers the ox rib and watches Aziraphale eat because eating provides them no sustenance, it's purely for pleasure, sensual, selfish. And Crowley introduces Aziraphale to this, and thousands of years later still takes obvious pleasure in feeding Aziraphale, in watching him eat. In watching Aziraphale's pleasure.
And I think it's significant the things we see Crowley put into his body in s2, and why: six shots of espresso, as something bracing before seeing what it is that made Aziraphale call him in his "something's wrong" tone; whiskey, because he has to give Aziraphale some bad news; wine, because they "might as well get comfortable" during the storm coming down on Job, after Aziraphale learns that Crowley is actually pretty unhappy with Job's suffering; and poison, to dispose of it so Elspeth (or Wee Morag, I've fogotten which is which) doesn't die. Crowley doesn't take Aziraphale's "something that calms you down", only consumes things that not only don't bring him pleasure but are an attempt to prevent pain. Crowley, who introduced Aziraphale to this important physical, sensual, selfish pleasure, denies it to himself. He denies himself the eccles cakes, he denies himself partaking in food, and he denies himself Aziraphale.
And we see throughout the rest of the season other things he's denying himself: the comfort and safety of a home in the bookshop in favor of the mobility and ready-made escape of living in the Bentley, the surety of saying what he really means during the confession. He cannot bring himself to admit what he wants, that he wants. Gabriel and Beelzebub "going off together" is not what he wants. He wants Aziraphale, but he doesn't say that, because he's never, in the years and years and years we've seen this season, let himself want or be seen wanting. "Going off together" is as close as he can get to speaking it. "A group of the two of us" is as close as he can get. So he has to watch as Aziraphale leaves and takes his pleasure in the world with him.
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