i honestly don't really understand why "some people prefer watching gameplay online rather than playing games themselves" is treated as such a taboo when being a spectator is considered a pretty mundane way to engage with most sports, game shows, reality tv or even just like. chess.
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Whenever they gave us one of those "read through ALL the instructions before you begin!" trick assignments in school where the steps lead you on an increasingly ridiculous goose chase until the final one tells you to just put your name on the paper and turn it in without doing anything else, I was always like, "Okay, but what's the point? Surely the REAL world won't be anything like this." And then I grew up and discovered that not only is the real world often exactly like that, some people won't even read the first line of the instructions even if they make perfect sense. And these people are called "co-workers"
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important reminder that most people you follow online are significantly lamer than you think they are including me. and if you feel insecure comparing yourself to someone online: DON'T. theyre probably also lame and weird. most people on the internet are
my corner store guy is a 50 year old man who's my best friend in the world and recently he was like "you're too pretty to be single I have some nephews you should meet. very handsome!" and I was like "a niece might be more up my alley" and he just got more excited and said "ah even better! I was overselling my nephews but my nieces are very beautiful"
The worst thing about getting a Guardian Angel is not having a choice over who you get.
Dean had never been someone important enough to warrant owning a Guardian Angel, but now that he's working for Dick Roman it's apparently one of his 'employee perks'. Of course he refused at first - he really doesn't see the appeal in having some random person with wings following him around all the time, visible or not. Actually, it's even worse to think of them doing that creeper shit while invisible. Plus, the whole mind-meld sharing thoughts and feelings crap sounds like a nightmare.
They're supposed to bring good luck and protect their human from harm, but Dean's lived thirty years without one so far and he's still alive and kicking.
Charlie thinks he's being unreasonable because she already has one and they get along fine. Charlie's Guardian Angel is mostly invisible though, so it's not like she really noticed much of a difference. That's what most people order them to do, but Dean can't imagine anything worse.
Dean holds out the Guardian Angel Contract in his hands, rereading it for the hundredth time, as he leaves the Roman Empires building. It says that his official angel assigning will take place tomorrow, bonded by his soul to a Guardian Angel named Naomi.
That's all he's got to go on. A name. Of the creature that will be glued to his side twenty-four-seven watching over him.
Dean shudders, his stomach turning.
The letter warns him to stay away from unclaimed Guardian Angels, because he's already begun the process of being able to form the bond (a completely silly ritual he nearly laughed his way through) and it would be easy to form an 'accidental comtract'. Though the letter reassures him that this never happens, it's just a precaution.
Dean crumples the letter, shoves it in his back pocket, and keeps walking. His most immediate problem is that the Roman Empires parking lot is stupidly huge, and since he doesn't want anyone near his Baby, opening their doors into her and ruining her beautiful paintjob, he parks her at the very edge. Which means a lot of walking.
When Dean finally reaches Baby he's made it to the very edge of the parking lot, where a small row of fast food places start. There's an alley that runs behind them all that Dean can just about see from where he is - a couple of employees are hanging around smoking cigarettes by the backdoors, and a young couple look like they're having a heated argument in the deep shadows of the dumpsters. He can't quite hear what they're saying, but they're both gesturing violently, and their whispers are strained with stress.
Dean hums a tune under his breath as he walks, seeing fewer and fewer cars as he gets further from the building. He can finally see Baby and he can't wait to relax into her comforting leather for his journey home - there's some leftover pizza and a beer waiting for him in the fridge.
None of his business, Dean thinks, fishing out his car keys.
But suddenly they start yelling and the woman starts to sob, and Dean pauses. He looks over at them again.
The guy has a gun in his hands, held up to point at the woman's chest.
Shit.
Without any conscious thought Dean is in the alley trying to get the guy's attention. The smoking break employees have disappeared, and now there's just Dean, the woman, and the gunman.
"Hey. Hey buddy, c'mon. You don't have to do this. Just put the gun down, okay?" Dean says in a gentle voice, even if his heart is slamming against his ribcage. Every muscle is screaming at him to turn and run, but he keeps moving forwards, hands raised like he's trying not to spook a wild horse.
What the fuck is he doing. He shouldn't be here. He works in sales!
Steadily Dean keeps walking, trying to offer calm words.
"Stop there or I'll shoot!" the gunman yells, turning the gun on Dean.
Good.
Dean makes a motion to the woman, and she immediately turns to sprint away down the alley. A back door opens that she ducks into, and one of the smoking employees emerges, pointing towards Dean and the gunman to someone else who steps out of the same door. Dean barely has time to register dark hair and blue eyes when he realizes the opportunity he's been given - the gunman has been distracted by the woman running, and now he's clear for Dean to tackle.
So he does.
He lunges for the gun.
They struggle.
A gunshot thunders.
Pain lances through Dean's chest.
Dean looks down in a kind of detached interest as red blooms across the front of his shirt. He doesn't register falling to his knees, but suddenly that's where he is. There's ringing in his ears, blood pouring out of his chest, and the floor rises up to meet him - or maybe he falls down onto it. The thud jolts his body and it feels like his skin is on fire. He can't breathe.
Dean thinks of how ironic it is to die the day before he gets a Guardian Angel. A cosmic joke.
But slowly the pain fades. The world lurches again and Dean realizes he's being propped up into someone's lap. There's a strong hand on his shoulder and one on his chest and the pain is going away. Dean blinks up at the person whose lap his head is in and sees the same dark hair and blue eyes from earlier. Except this time they're glowing.
Gentle warmth threads through his veins, pleasantly replacing the scalding fire that he felt before. It feels nice. He finds that he can breathe again, and Dean draws in a particularly loud gasp as his lungs remember how to work.
This isn't possible...
Suddenly something deep within Dean almost clicks into place, with a force strong enough to take his breath away again. It feels right. The faltering grip on his shoulder and a shuddering gasp means that the mystery guy must have felt the same thing.
Dean looks up at him to see that his eyes are still glowing, but now there's also the outline of a bright golden ring above the man's head, and dark shadowy shapes behind his back.
Oh no.
Is he...?
Did they just...?
Well, this is probably going to complicate things.
You can tell a lot about a person by entering their mind palace and encountering their greatest fears and darkest hopes in a labyrinth reflective of their subconscious thoughts.
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i cant believe "ill kill the pretty one" "theyre equally pretty" "ill kill the small one then" is like . actual dialogue that happened on supernatural . about dean and cas
This post breaching containment has taught me that a lot of people seem to think they can accurately profile complete strangers. For the record, no the fuck you can't.
using "what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament" to mean "yeah i made an embarrassing reference but you understood it which is also embarrassing" is very funny to me
my favorite part is that absolutely nobody says this except here. so if you use it in public, it's a dead giveaway that you spent the last ten years on tumblr. but then again, they recognized it, which means they were at the devil's sacrament
I tested this theory in the wild the other day at work. I was on a call with my department lead and a few other folks and I replied to an email the DL had sent me, thinking that, because he was on this call, he wouldn't notice when I sent it and would not catch me multitasking.
However, he replied to said email within five minutes, asking a question that required an answer. So I answered and was like "Also, I was going to apologize for answering emails during this call, but I see we're both here at the Devil's Sacrament, so I don't think an apology is necessary."
I watched him read that on screen and try not to laugh. And then at the end of the call as everyone started saying goodbye, he goes, "Hey, MJ, I meant to tell you. I like your shoelaces."
And I looked straight into my camera, stone cold serious, and said, "Thanks. I stole them from the president."
And the rest of the team was like, "What...the fuck...?" before he abruptly ended the call for everyone.
So now my DL and I know this about each other. He could be any one of us.
So apparently, over the summer, Quibi (the shortest-lasting streaming service ever lmao) did a quarantine project called “Home Movie: The Princess Bride” where a bunch of celebrities recreated The Princess Bride in tiny chunks at home.
And like there was no permanent cast, all these celebrities seem to have gotten a scene or part of a scene to do (i’m not sure exactly, I did not ever watch Quibi and thus haven’t seen this yet), and then they just… recreated it as best they could. At home. Under quarantine.
So like, you had Jennifer Garner in a blanket cape playing Princess Buttercup AND the Booing Old Woman with a crowd comprised entirely of stuffed animals:
Or Taika Waititi paying Westley off a badly-drawn Inigo on a piece of cardboard held in front of someone’s face:
And it’s all just delightful.
But my absolute favorite part of this thing that I’ve sadly never seen but assume is probably absolutely hilarious and a treasure and I want to find it some day and watch the whole thing… is that Carey Elwes is in it.
In case you need a comfort watch and because Youtube search nowadays sucks rancid farts, I remind you of the Princess Bride Home Movie from the lockdown, starring everybody
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