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kobra kid not clickbait

@forsythiaforthcoming

names in pinned post // pronouns in pinned post // under 18 // asks always open

The devil walks into your work on a Thursday.

“Hi,” you say, “welcome to McDonalds.”

The devil clops up to the register, red eyes sliding from the cartoonish picture of Grimace, to the Coca Cola drying in the grout, to the ketchup stain on your pale blue button down.

“What can I get started for you today,” you prod when he continues to stare.

“Uh,” he says. “I came for your soul?”

Your smile slips for a moment before you can pin it back in place. Thank goodness your manager is on their lunch. “We don’t sell that, I’m sorry. Have you tried a Big Mac?”

“I know McDonald’s doesn’t sell souls,” the devil says. “Your parents sold your soul. Before you were born.”

“Oh,” you say. That would explain…a lot, actually. “Well. I’m at work, so…can you collect later?”

“I’m owed your soul on your 18th birthday,” he says.

“It’s my birthday today?” You glance at the register. “Wow. I forgot.”

“That is so fucking sad,” the devil says. He punched the bridge if his nose. “When is your shift over?”

“3am.”

Jesus,” the devil says. He turns on his hoof. “I’m going to go buy you a cake or something.”

“Wow,” you say. You press a hand over your heart. “That—that actually would make my week.”

“And that’s sad,” the devil calls over his shoulder. “See you at 3!”

Now you have a reason to look forward to getting off work.

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2:30 am rolled in at such a snails pace, but you kept that plastered mask on the whole night.

You had to deal with a rainbow of people all day. From rich kids looking down on you to that poor homeless guy that comes by asking for your stale fries.

Your boss had watched over you and your coworkers and have scolded you a few dozen times for not upselling, or even appeasing the Karen at max volume.

But now you were doing the one thing no one in a McDonald's would dare do. You cleaned the mc flurry machine. A rare sight to see and probably the only working one in town.

You hear the chime, the chime of dread, your stomach drops, and you fix that mask turning to face the next customer.

Only to internally sigh in relief. Oh good, its just the Devil.

He walks in with what appears to be a medium sized box. He still looked as disgruntled as before. Maybe even more so as he looks around the dingy Mc Donald's.

"Welcome back! You're early!"

"Is... that.. a working mc flurry mechine?" He answers instead looking over you. You nod with perhaps a hint of pride.

"Yes Sir! Just cleaned it. Would you like one?" You can see him staring into your soul. Which, you suppose is his soul now.

"No. Just.. be done already."

You nod to him watching him clop over to a table setting the box down. Huh... your soul is now his? You didn't have time to think about that.

Your manager pops their head out from the back. "Hey. Josh said he's gonna be late. Need you to...." you glance over to see your manager staring at the gargantuan devil sitting there. He looks back causing your manager to freeze in horror. You never seen them so pale.

"Your employee quits as of this moment. Figure out your own issues. Leave." He said with menacing eyes that flash. Your manager turns around and books it to the back, possibly to pray for forgiveness.

You take that as your cue to clock out. You offer a goodbye to your boss but they won't have any of it.

The devil watches you slip from out behind the counter now with even more distain. Your pants look... questionable.

"How often do you even do laundry?"

"If I can have a day off that doesn't involve driving my younger siblings to and from their music classes and tutors."

The devil stares in disgust now understanding what your parents did.

They sold their first born and invested in the younger siblings.

And they say the devil is the worst..

"Just... damnit just sit down."

You do as he sets out two golden plates opening up the box to reveal a professionally made cake with a black marble icing and gold flakes. Set on top are black candles that's wax looks to shimmer like a dark rainbow. The flames flicker and crackle shifting from one color to another. Its beautiful.

You don't know what you were expecting. You almost expected a cheap sheet cake from the store down the street.

"... happy birthday... make a wish I guess... blow out your candle..."

You smile, you make the same wish you made every year. "I wish for a pet." You don't say it out loud. It was out of habit even though you know it won't come true. Least you now understand why.

You blow out the candle and it gives off a sigh like a ghost had escaped your lips.

You watch this soft glowing whisp floats around you while the devil cuts you a piece of cake. You only look back when you hear your fork be set next to your plate.

"Thank you.. its a lovely cake."

He brushes it off. "Just.. eat."

You enjoy your cake as he watches. After a moment he speaks.

"Your parents sold your soul to me."

"Mmhmm.."

"Meaning you belong to me."

"Mmm"

"In hell."

When you clear your mouth you reply. "So, what will I be? Burning punished for all eternity? Slave labor? Dealing with karens?"

He stares at you not sure if he should feel impressed or bothered by the fact you just don't seem that fazed.

"Souls sold to me become whatever I feel like them being. You..." he stares at you as you enjoy more of your cake.

"Your not even fazed by the fact your going to hell."

You shake your head. Simply enjoying the sinfully delicious cake.

"You could be tasked with cleaning up hell hound shit."

"Oh! This mean I can see hells good bois??"

"...... you could be handing out toys for orgys...?"

"Sounds like they be having fun."

"Cleaning up torture chambers?"

"Have you seen the bathrooms?"

The devil takes a breath to compose himself. Mortals these days... whats the point of hell when theres a worse one on earth?

When your full he closes the box, the plate and fork vanish.

"Come with me"

You oblige following him out of the McDonald's.

He doesn't even bother asking about if you have a car. He already knew that answer.

"Your going to be one of my messengers to the other realms."

You blink looking up at him.

"Really? Nothing nasty like the ones you mentioned?"

"Look kid, if you can keep a straight face serving me, practically live like your in hell, and still be the only few willing to keep a mc flurry working.. I'd rather you go deliver things to and from hell to like... I dont know anubis or Hades."

You follow along your little whisp still dancing around you.

"Okay... one more question..."

He sighs "what?"

"Can I pet a hell hound?"

"....... yes.... yes you can pet a hell hound."

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happy PRIDE i’m here i’m queer and i believe the land should be given back to the proper indigenous stewards.

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Non-Natives reblogging this are great and wonderful

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Please remember that "land back" does not mean "indigenous people are mystical elves with innate epigenetic wisdom of land stewardship and they don't belong in big cities," nor does it mean "non-indigenous people can't be farmers." What it DOES mean is that "non-indigenous farmers should be paying the equivalent of property taxes to the native governments their land was stolen from." It means, "there's a great deal of indigenous scholarship on sustainable agricultural practices that farmers should be taking into account, because indigenous agriculture was more advanced than European agriculture at the time Europe invaded the Americas and western agriculture *still* hasn't caught up in terms of figuring out how to produce equivalently high crop yields without compromising the ecosystem." It means, "non-indigenous farmers should be in an intellectual discourse with indigenous agricultural scientists and indigenous peoples that still do traditional farming, figuring how to repair the damage western farming practices have done to the ecosystem."

It also means that indigenous peoples should regain the right to sustain themselves on the land according to the practices they want, and they should have free reign to perform their cultural practices and protect their holy sites, as opposed to the current model where if they try to honor their dead on public lands they get violently removed.

when you see your little kitty walking toward you at a leisurely pace and say "hi baby!" bc you're excited to see her and she starts trotting a little bit faster 'cause she's excited to see you too. that's what life is all about i think

But what about how she says “mrrrow” just as she starts her lil trot?

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I like to think that at least once, the Avatar cycle seemed to skip the Water Tribe—like people knew it was the water tribe’s turn, everyone was looking for them, the tests are done on all the kids, but like 60-80 years go by and no avatar until some Earth Kingdom kid shows up. People wonder if the cycle skipped a generation or what, but nothing serious was going on at that time so they shrug and move on.

It’s only many many years later that someone is researching Swampbender oral history and someone tells the story of “Ol Stinky Jess, she was a funny one, could light the swamp on fire an’ all sorts o’ shenanigans! Best catfishgator catcher in the tribe, she was” and thats literally it, she just lived a totally chill life in the swamp and nobody knew what an avatar was at the time so they just rolled with that funny gal’s odd bending ways.

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Researcher, equally eager and afraid to ask: “So…so why was she called Stinky Jess?”

Cheerful Swamp Elder: “Well y’see, them gases what come out of the swamp in the real dank places, they’s as smelly as a skunkcoon’s hind end, and Stinky Jess, so the legend goes, well she were a bit of a prankster, an’ she’d find a real ripe part o’ the swamp, and then she’d whip up her wind magic an’ waft them stinky smells right into yer house and get er’body hollerin’. They say no one annoyed Stinky Jess for fear o’ being visited by her stink in the night! O’ course, Ol’ Stinky Jess also taught us that soma them gasses are flammable, on account o’ the time she sneezed durin’ a stinkup an’ set half the town on fire, an’ that’s the story o’ how our tribe learned ter harness methane and ter fireproof things even when they’s surrounded by water—”

Researcher: (scribbling notes so fast his quill is smoking)

the 2024 met gala theme will be ovid's metamorphosis to respect the importance of greek classicalism in fashion aesthetic principles of construction. lil nas x will be dressed as actaeon's hounds, a metaphor for the punishment of black men's existence being seen as predatory. kylie jenner will wear a crimped taffeta toga. florence welch will be in dior as medusa, veiled and weeping. she is a statement about the destruction of intent and story in the face of achronistic politics: medusa can't be a monster if she's a woman, medusa can't be a woman if she's a monster. drake wears a tailored black suit with a black tie and white shirt. seventeen different women dress as botticelli's venus in some form and rip each other to shreds in rage and divine madness, watched over by dionysus, who is dressed as jack black

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Captions shouldn't be censored. If the video says fuck or cum or cunt the captions should say the fucking word.

Unless it's a slur! No one needs to see that.

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If they say a slur in the video, the captions should reflect it. The disabled are not little babies who have to have life sanitized for them.

okay but I feel like ur forgetting that slurs don't just apply to the disabled... children don't need to be seeing the n-word or other racial slurs??

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but children DO need to be hearing it? are you actually reading the post here?

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Here's how it works when subtitles are done properly:

Audio: Let's BEEP go! Subtitle: Let's (censor tone) go!

Audio: Let's fucking go! Subtitle: Let's fucking go!

Removing swears and slurs from the subtitles without removing it from the audio is implying that deaf/HoH people need babying, unlike their hearing friends and family sitting right next to them. Which is frustrating.

The point of subtitles is to give the same experience to everyone watching, regardless of ability—not to be a more palatable version of what's being said.

The funniest part of this, to me, is that they didn’t use the “G” in Super Mario Galaxy? 

There is no war in Ba Sing Se

The Moon landing was faked

Major words in Mario games have never used a G

please stop bringing attention to my mistakes i already feel terrible

What about the H in Super Mario Sunshine? @pesky-plumbers

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unyielding–justice

@pesky-plumbers what about the F from Mario Golf?

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tremendouslysizzlingsandwich

y in mario party

this one is actually justified so kiss my fucking ass ok the Y is from Mario Teaches Typing

your ass tryina 1-up me like everyone else but you failed uwu

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there was a g in this one too tho

world heritage post

god dammit

Some union basics:

1. Striking is the LAST RESORT. If a union is at the place where a strike is being proposed it is because they have been bargaining for a long time and exhausted all their other options.

2. Before a strike happens, all the members vote. Everyone is very aware of the status of negotiations long before they’re made public. But if a strike is occurring it’s because an overwhelming majority voted to strike—you want almost everyone in the union to agree before you take such a huge step.

3. Strikes are difficult but necessary demonstrations of workers’ collective power. The hope is that your labor is so essential that the bosses lost profits will make them come back to the bargaining table. The bosses are hoping that the workers will starve to death.

4. Working during a strike is called scabbing. Coming in from an outside industry to do work during a strike is sometimes called crossing the picket line. Both send you straight to hell.

“Mean girls all grow up to be nurses!”

“Mean girls all go into social work!”

“The mean girl to teacher pipeline!”

Y’all, these are just pink collar jobs. The reason you think there’s so many “mean girls” in these fields is because they’re all like 97% women. Of course some of them are gonna be assholes. There’s assholes everywhere.

We get it. Your job isn’t like other girls’ jobs. It’s a cool job.

it’s true that there are some incredibly cruel people in all of these professions.

it’s also true that they all suffer from chronic underpayment, overwork, lack of institutional support, and insane bureaucratic demands that would make them fail the people in their care all the time even if every single one was a saint.

That’s absolutely missing the point.

While those are all “helper” professions and they very much are pink collar (and are underpaid, that’s not an incompatible idea), they’re also ones that involve power over vulnerable people’s lives. (And I’ve only encountered it as a comparison to, say, male bullies becoming cops, it’s not like men aren’t being mentioned here.)

Secretaries/administrative assistants aren’t on that list for a reason. Flight attendants aren’t on that list. Housecleaners aren’t on that list. Receptionists. Customer service representatives. Dental hygienists. The people who style hair or do nails. That’s not a list of pink collar jobs. It’s specifically (pink collar) positions where if you want to abuse people you’re relatively likely to get away with it.

It can both be true that “nurses who care for disabled people need better pay” and “nurses who care for disabled people have a lot of opportunities to abuse their power and that’s something worth talking about.”

Women aren’t immune from treating people badly because they’re women, or because women are underpaid. They’re sure not immune from specifically seeking out jobs that will allow them to be cruel without any consequences to them, if they get personal satisfaction out of being cruel.

You are trying to shut down a conversation about abuse.

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dead-dyke

Shitty people are attracted to positions of power. That includes working class women!

There have been a lot of studies about hazing and abuse in nursing communities and even murder!

My mother is a nurse, her co-workers sit around laughing about the people who fall out of their wheel chairs, about the nurses who do cry when someone dies, my mother has ignored patients crying out in pain in order to drink her coffee.

My mother has intentionally let elderly patients at her nursing home die. She has abused them and she has laughed about it. She has left people suffering and has caused that suffering.

Nurses are underpaid and they are disrespected as medical professionals who aren’t a doctor. That’s true and we should talk about that, but we can not ignore the fact that violent women seek out these jobs with God Complexes and the intent to do harm.

Sure, that harm might be because they are bitter, over-worked, and disrespected. None the less, it is no different than when a male doctor causes purposeful harm to his patient.

Nurses contribute to eugenics, to patient abuse, elder abuse, and yeah even child abuse (my mother was proficient in all of them!)

Here are some important articles to read:

Nurses Eat Their Young An article about hazing and bullying among nurses. The title comes from a common saying in medical circles, the first time I heard it, it was in reference to my mother’s best friend who had poured coffee over the hands of a new nurse who had reported another nurse to a superior for abusing a patient.

Every single one of these articles, with exception of the last – which is guardian article – is a professionally published medical article.

tangled gave us so much, but mostly it gave us the beautiful and intense love of a horse and the man he is chasing in order to imprison

i personally believe that maximus was the former captain of the guard who was cursed into horse form pretty recently, and everyone’s having trouble adjusting to it.

like, he’s entitled to sick leave, he really ought to take a couple months to break the curse and come to terms with whatever the fuck just happened to him, but instead of embarking on a journey of self-discovery and healing he just keeps showing up to work. no one can get captain maximus to go on his fucking voyage of self actualization and fix the curse because he’s obsessed with catching flinn ryder. everyone really fucking hopes that when he finally catches this guy the curse might be broken anyway, but it isn’t.

he just keeps showing up to work. he glares at the stablehands until they saddle him up. everyone’s gone over the regulations a dozen times but there’s nothing there saying you’re not allowed to saddle and ride the captain of the guard if he makes you do it. his former second in command rides him around like ‘sir i really don’t know about this’ and he’s just like ‘are we going to catch some criminals or what.’

you can see in the movie that everyone in the royal guard defers to this horse. it’s absolutely because that’s their boss. and secondarily because now he’s two thousand pounds of percheron.

there is no evidence against this theory and you cannot prove me wrong.