this is about the death penalty and its also about call out posts about people who have already apologized for things they did a long time ago and it’s also about using ‘toxic’ or ‘abuser’ as if its an immutable class of person, and its also about any other circumstance with permanent consequences or wherein you assume someone is still the same person they were.
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what really fucks me up about watching the truman show in 2025 is how it's not fictional. truman is fictional, but the truman show isn't.
there's thousands of truman shows. you find them on youtube, tiktok, instagram... family and mommy vloggers, sad beige moms and now the trend of neglectful moms showing the "reality" of parenting. all of them using their kids for entertainment. each child their own truman; living a life manufactured by their parents, a camera watching their every moment, broadcasted for the entire world to see.
Okay so Victorian erotica is literally the most heinous, morally bankrupt, horrific shit I've ever read - but I've read a fair bit, partly from historical interest but also because a while back I helped a friend with a university project she was doing about censorship and pornography in 19th century England.
Anyway I need to share with you all the most hilarious line that has ever been written, circa 1887:
I feel like this excerpt is significantly enhanced by knowing that the novel in question is a first-person narrative written from the perspective of an inexplicably sapient flea who lives on Bella's body, and that's why the third priest's penis is described in this way: from the narrator's perspective it literally blots out the sky.
i miss when subscriptions didnt really exist and you could just pay one time to buy an app or some software, and then just.. have it. without ads. without recurring costs. without more paywalls. it was just yours forever.
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This is an EXTREMELY blessed post! And accurate! When I first moved out I was so excited for my new place I slept on the floor and had my tv there and that was it. Loved it. You grow and you build and you gain and you lose. I lost that place and everything in it. Now I have a new place with new things and it’s very much home.
In the future, there is a small, quiet room that is just yours, where you are safe and you are free. In that room your shoulders will finally start to come down from around your ears. Nobody can come into that room unless you let them. In that clean quiet place, you will work and you will study. You will love and you will heal.
-Captain Awkward, “Should I Move Away From My Abusive Family?”
oh my god the slot machine company says i have to keep putting coins in their machine or Im Gonna Get Left Behind. thats so scary. and it has to be true because they know more about slot machines than i do
oh my god the slot machine company says if we dont give them money to build the world's biggest slot machine the chinese are gonna build it first and win all the prizes. and then there wont be any prizes anymore
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Scenario where Flambae takes a bullet for Robert if Flambae was a romance option? :3
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Flambae doesn't know why he does it. His body moves on its own before he can really even register what he's doing.
He's never felt this way before—this icy, sinking dread, that split-second of all-encompassing fear. Seeing a gun pointed directly at Robert, a finger hovering over the trigger, moving to shoot.
Flambae didn't think he was the type of person.
The sharp explosion of pain in his chest confuses him. He's disoriented, his mind still trying to catch up with what his body already decided. He looks down to see red, and quickly looks back at Robert to gauge his reaction. He's not hurt, is he? No, the only blood Flambae notices is his own, and the sight of it makes him quite queasy, so he focuses hard on Robert's face instead.
Robert doesn't seem hurt, so then why does he look so pale? Why is his face twisted like he's screaming? Why—
All at once, the adrenaline rushes out of Flambae and his knees go weak, unable to keep him upright. The sting in his chest is unbearable, eating away at his nerves as his vision pulses black.
"—bae."
Flambae sees Robert's lips moving but he can't quite make out the words.
"—ad."
It's so hard to keep his eyes open. It hurts. He's tired. His nerves are shot.
He wants to sleep.
Robert's voice is so heavily muffled like he's speaking underwater miles away. It sounds like sobbing but he can't be sure—after all, he's never seen Robert cry before, and he doubts Robert will start now—not for him.
It's okay, Flambae wants to say, I'm just going to rest my eyes for a bit.
He thinks nothing of it when his eyes finally slide closed.
"—ad."
"Chad!" Robert is screaming as he tries to hold his hands firmly against the bullet wound to slow the bleeding.
"Don't sleep," he's begging, trying to keep Chad's eyes on him. The man's usually bright, fiery amber eyes now look dull and hazy. They keep unfocusing, keep rolling up. Robert can't stop the heavy sobs that wrack through his ribcage, hands uncomfortably warm and slick with blood.
"Chad, please." His whole body is shaking, and he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what to do. "Fuck, please. You can't die, you can't fucking do this to me—" The words are stuck in his throat as another sob breaks past his lips. "They're almost here, hang on just a little longer."
Chad is no longer responsive. Hasn't been for the past two minutes. His eyes are barely open, his skin becoming a sickly grey.
He's still bleeding, the wound gushing like his blood is trying to evacuate him. Robert tries with every ounce of his being to stop it.
He can't feel a pulse. Can't hear a breath.
Robert is screaming and screaming until his throat is raw. No response.
Finally the paramedics arrive, rushing to administer first aid. Robert is pushed away and he stands trembling with bloody hands as he watches them try to save Chad.
Please. Robert can't breathe. Please save him.
He's crying, he realizes only when the ambulance has driven away. His lungs are screaming, his throat is tight, and his eyes sting with heat. He's crying as Blonde Blazer takes his arm gently but firmly, and starts flying them towards the hospital.
Imagine Chad, events after the game, takes a bullet for Robert 😭😭
Headcannon!
Flambae and Robert ask out each other at the same time!
after a mission gone wrong
Flambae almost died but is severely wounded
It was a trap.
One of the calls came in, a perfect fit for Flambae, so obviously Robert sent him. He couldn't have known the caller was fake, and part of a bigger organization that traffics supers.
So when Flambae never came back from the mission, Robert was rightfully panicked, and blamed himself for it.
The Z-Team readies themselves to hunt Flambae down, and Malevola portals them to the last known location, a warehouse.
They split up, searching for clues of where they could've taken Flambae. There are obvious scorch marks around the area, and Robert's chest feels tight knowing Flambae had fought here.
They do everything they can, Sonar, Coupé and Phenomaman taking the skies, while everyone else cover the ground. Robert tries to triangulate a location using SDN's information of this organization's previous movements.
There's a few possible spots, and they're determined to hit every single one of them.
At the third spot, there's a plume of smoke coming out from the shipping container, which makes Robert hopeful that Flambae is there.
The Z-Team hurries over, breaking into the place with everything they've got. Sure enough, it's chaos, supers and supervillains all fighting each other, and leading the whole thing is Flambae, zooming around and setting everything on fire.
Upon hearing the huge crash of metal from Mecha Man crash landing, Flambae whips around, relief flooding his face. "Robert!"
"Chad!" Mecha Man hurries closer. "Thank god—"
It was his mistake.
He should've been paying more attention, shouldn't have focused so much on his sheer relief of seeing Flambae.
The gunshot rings clear and loud throughout the chaos, and it's like the whole world stops. Robert can't hear anything but his own thundering heartbeat, echoing within the cockpit.
"No, nononono—" Robert steers the mech to quickly catch Flambae midair, seeing the blood seep across the man's suit. "Fuck, Chad, it's going to be okay, it's okay—"
Robert is choking up, hands shaking as he scans for Malevola or Waterboy. He shoots away a few villains that try to get close, fury bubbling up inside of him along with his panic.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He turns on his comms, yelling out, "Mal! I need you to portal near the entrance ASAP. Chad is hurt!"
Mecha Man moves Chad towards the entrance of the storage containment, leaning him against the metal wall. He turns his focus briefly on cutting down anyone who comes near, and Malevola appears a second later, hurrying to heal Flambae.
"How bad is it?" Mecha Man asks, voice audibly trembling despite the mechanical whirr of the suit.
"The bullet missed vitals, he should be okay." Mal answers, and already Flambae looks less pale after her healing. Robert lets out a shaky exhale, thanking her. Then he turns towards Flambae, "Chad, I need you to stay here and rest. We'll wrap this up quickly and take you to the hospital."
Flambae just grunts in acknowledgement, nodding his chin. "Go."
Mecha Man is determined to finish this as quickly as possible. Flambae's fires are spreading rapidly, and they don't have much time to get everyone detained and out. The Z-Team whips about the place, immobilizing person after person with dizzying efficiency. Mecha Man is incredibly proud of his team.
Finally, when everyone seems to be dealt with, they take everyone out before the whole place comes down. Police, firetrucks, and ambulances have already arrived at the scene, so the cleanup shouldn't be too difficult.
Robert slams open the cockpit hatch and scrambles over to Flambae, chest heaving. "Chad, you okay?"
"Mm." Flambae coughs, blood trickling from the corner of his lips and Robert hurries to wipe it away. "Still alive."
"Yeah, keep doing that." Robert says, moving Flambae's body over his lap and cradling his head against his chest, his breathing still hard and fast with panic as he waits for medical assistance. It's okay, Mal already healed him a little, so he shouldn't be in any critical danger. Still, Robert can't calm down, his pulse racing and his eyes stinging.
"...Your heartbeat is really loud."
Robert manages a wet laugh. "Fuck you, how dare you joke at a time like this?"
Flambae cracks a smile, and god Robert wants to kiss him so bad. "Bob-Bob, you free after this?"
Robert lets out an incredulous huff, pressing his hand against the bullet wound. "Are you serious? Now's not the time."
"So...is that a yes or a no?" Flambae blinks up at him, his eyes slightly hazy.
"Fuck." Robert shakes his head. "Dammit Chad. I'll take you out next time, when you're better. I'll buy you dinner, yeah? I know you like that fancy sushi place."
Flambae beams, his teeth stained with blood, but he's so beautiful. "You mean it?"
"Yes." Robert breathes, seeing a medic finally jog over after helping some other people. "So get better soon, okay?"
"Mmhm." Flambae is handed off to the medics, and Robert can only watch helplessly. "It's a date, Bob-Bob."
I'd like to thank op because I have been using these as reaction images since I first saw this post in 2022 and I had lost track of their origin but now I am grateful to the universe for the chance to say bless u
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something something the deeply ingrained instinct to respond when someone offers you a handshake fundamental need for humans to connect and the extension of hands as a peace gesture something something in this essay