Bought my first Seventeen albums yesterday and pulled FOUR Mingyu pcs. I don’t think you guys understand my horrible luck with pulling my biases but I pulled FOUR MINGYUS THIS IS CRAZY
(Also pulled a Joshua pc and his album version for semicolon I’m- I’ve won. I’ve won at life)
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The Justice League has been working to dismantle the GIW for awhile, and finally found enough evidence to get them shut down.
Superman is picked to be involved with the dismantling of the base, and equipped with some sort of strange watch bought from a family-run ghost hunting business in Illinois. Apparently, the thing prevents him from being possessed.
He has, of course, ordered fifteen of the things.
Being possessed and used to hurt his friends and family has and always will be one of his worst fears.
As they circle the base, hidden and in groups, waiting for Cyborg to bypass security-Cyborg pauses.
They have someone.
A small-town hero, Phantom. They have him strapped to an operating table, and they're literally about to start carving into him.
Superman sees red.
Inside the base, Danny's waiting for the GIW thugs to start cutting into his duplicate so he can record it and get evidence to the Justice League, so that they know these guys are really fucked up.
He isn't expecting the ceiling to suddenly go missing.
He really isn't expecting to see a spectacularly pissed off Superman start towards the GIW agents while Martian Manhunter (calm down fenton don't be a nerd don't geek out omgomgomgomggggg) himself frees the duplicate.
Then Martian Manhunter pauses.
Looks at Danny.
Danny wills himself onto the visible spectrum and allows the duplicate to dissipate.
Unfortunately, in his effort to not sound starstruck, he just sounds pissed.
"Oh, so now you show up? In the middle of my sting operation?"
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you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
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thinking about that fandom friend who messaged me once asking if I'd be willing to write for their OTP because there were so few works out there for it, but they liked my writing style
thinking about that ship and how I really ended up enjoying it, even though it was never my main, and how that ship went from just a handful of fics on AO3 to now having over 650 (there's still more than 350 with otp:true!)
back when they messaged me, I think there were 30 fics in the tag but they messaged other multishipper authors and they created a little community and while that ship will never be a massive juggernaut, it's certainly not a rarepair anymore
amazing things are possible if you're friendly and enthusiastic and you reach out to people who are friendly and willing to help out
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Prompt 212
“Did we just pull an Isekai?”
“I mean, does it count if it’s practically just Ghostwriter’s usual shit, just more chaotic?”
“Sam, this is like a game, look, we even have inventory overlays!”
“Yeah but Tuck, I died so therefor I pulled an isekai, right?”
“Shit, why does that make sense?”
“Boys, perhaps actually look into your overlay there? Perhaps look at the map as well?”
“... oh my Ancients, guys, we’re not the players, we’re going to be the bosses of this game.”
. . .
“This is going to be so much fun guys.”
The JL Jr team would really like it to be known that they are in fact done with Klarions shenanigans. This is literally the first day school is out for the summer for them! Who even showed him DnD and anime anyway?!
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I’m actually pretty pleased with this new version of Azula in the live action show I gotta say. It’s a new take on the character but doesn’t just make her crazy or the villain. She’s a kid who’s worked her whole life to please her father and now that seems to be slipping away, everything she’s done for the past 3 years (probably 14) is being ripped away from her and she doesn’t even get to enjoy the fruit of her labors (the throne/her father’s approval).
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