Just Lost One Follower. What Does This Mean For My Dynasty.

honestly one of the main reasons I like dc is that they can’t keep a storyline straight for shit. anything I don’t like is just *not real*. that’s different storyline babes what are you talking about???

like at this point I can consider shit like wfa and hell even well written fanfics as canon bc who knows what’s going on with those funky little people?? certainly not the dc writers

Dash Baxter feels true dread walking up to the entrance of the Wayne Enterprises. He has a interning position in the engineering and design department.

He’s over the moon to have this opportunity and even more overjoyed that it’s nearby his apartment.

Why is he filled with fear with each step towards the secretaries desk then? Well, he is going to be interviewed by one of the Senior Engineers. He knows one of the senior engineers from his hometown.

God he really hopes he isn’t going to be interviewed by Danny Fenton

Good news for @pinkisthenewscarlet !!

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

I actually feel a little remorseful for having made this

nuclear power is impressive until you get up to why. "we use the most precisely engineered machinery ever created to split atoms to release energy" oh yeah how come? "boil water to turn a fan" get the fuck out

Lets do a little group children's story together, it'll be like a cool collab, I'll go first: Once upon a time there was a little worm who lived in a biiig apple, his name was Stephenson and he had anxiety (aww)

Girls of colour and trans girls are called "women" when they're kids because they are seen as dangerous adults fully capable of understanding harm and therefore deserving of harsh adult treatment and sentencing

Men of colour and trans men are called "boys" as a process of infantilization. They are seen as being too stupid to make their own decisions and incapable of being true adults. [MOC are ALSO called men just as much, in order to diminish the harm they've faced (calling a black 15 year old a man) and to frame them as adults who deserve a harsh sentence.][Trans boys are ALSO called men in order to frame them as dangerous and predatory adults.]

White cis men get called boys to diminish the harm they've caused - this wasn't a 24 year old who knew what they were doing, he was just a little boy. Boys will be boys!

White cis women get called girls in order to frame them as more innocent and in need of protection, and also to frame them (and, often, other women) as being so young and stupid that they require adult male supervision.

Nonbinary adults are framed as whatever fits the narrative most in that moment: dangerous adult man, or silly little girl.