Turning the pages of an old, worn book; breathing in the crisp, fresh air; tucking strands of hair behind ears; tapping a pencil on the table; pursing one’s lips in deep thought; zoning out of conversations; nervous jitters in the stomach before conveying ideas; scratching one’s pen on the paper; feverish realisation in having solved a problem; detailed thoughts and not so detailed speech; taking isolated walks in forests; moulding oneself to fit a situation yet refusing to fit in; debating issues in one’s mind; the soft fabric of over-sized jumpers; the fresh scent of washed linen; steamed up glasses from hot chocolate; frustration with people; loving slowly but deeply; discovering the beauty of the stars; having creative flashes at inconvenient times; the scent of comfort; holding onto the spark of madness.
Being in Soldier meant sudden, unexpected missions at all times of the day. He argued that he couldn’t be faulted for incurring collateral damage by the way of fainting ladies (and sometimes men) because he forgot to remove his reading glasses. Sephiroth never looked very convinced though.
I'm sure you've gotten a lot of messages saying this but the latest episode of rick and morty(ricklantis / tales from the citadel) had one of the morty's wishing incest porn was more accepted.
In the latest episode of Rick and Morty, one of the alternate universe Mortys that lives in the Citadel (not our main Morty, but one thats basically identical to him and also presumably has his own Beth and Summer) said that he liked incest porn and wished it was more mainstream!
Glasses Morty has done a lot for the incest porn cause. And just think: it isn’t just that Glasses Morty likes incest porn…IT WAS HIS WISH. They all made one wish AND THAT WAS HIS.
Every time someone quoted this line on reddit - and it was very popular, everyone found the line hilarious - it led to a microcosm discussion of incest. It was kind of hilarious to see the same circles happening - some people wouldn’t watch incest porn at gunpoint, a fair amount thinking it’s no big deal, a huge amount saying they liked stepcest porn or getting annoyed there was so much of it. (Don’t forget there was that graph of top porn search terms by state and something to do with stepmoms was #1 in at least one state.) People jumping on other people for admitting they liked incest porn. The best part, really, was how many people assumed Glasses Morty was hot for Summer. (Here are some of the comment threads if you are curious - 1, 2, 3, 4.) While I feel it’s my job to say, “You can like incest porn and not be in love with your sister”, I’m also very much in favor of “Glasses Morty is in love with Summer AND KNOWS IT”.
Someone observed this:
It doesn’t have anything to do with Morty’s family but it’s hilarious and I wanted to share.
But the best thing to come from the Glasses Morty quote about incest porn is this:
Also Morty’s Mindblowers definitively established Morty’s preference for redheads. When he snuck over and typed in something on Rick’s magnet that will attract anything you tell it to, he clearly typed in “young redheads” or something like that. There’s a real missing opportunity there for Summer to have been sucked up by the magnet too.
in 2 years i haven’t had a scratch on my glasses. yet in the morning at work a deep crack in my left lens appeared right in the middle. awesome. made me dizzy and headachey all day.
the one good thing was that my supervisor was out sick yesterday which meant that i could make a last minute eye doctor appointment for closer to end of day without having to ask to leave early (though i did.)
oh. so apparently no one will fix a lens if your prescription is over two years. ALSO, no one will just replace one lens. FFS. AND. whose insurance changed and no longer covers lenscrafters… mine.
so though it took what felt like a headache of a day, i found an eye doctor that would take me last minute. and seriously they ended up being the sweetest people ever WITH A HOT COCOA MACHINE IN THE BACK. my new glasses are already ready as i’m typing this. wee.
so i did not come home in an awesome mood. honestly with the dizzy and headache and hours of eye stuff and tests i was done. but when i got home..
there were gf donuts. and a big canopy style tent over the bed. it’s so cozy.
and when i got out of the shower. there were tacos and tamales and guacamole all set up on the bed.
i had text that to him a day or so ago. seeing all of it just done, and set up and wonderful felt like i could breathe for the first time that day.
Hermione climbs through Pansy’s window at 2 o’clock in the morning, and before Pansy can manage so much as a loud, angry, and exasperated screech Hermione tosses a black bag onto Pansy’s bed and says, “Listen, I need a huge favor.”
Pansy pinches the small bag between two delicate perfectly manicured fingers and puts it on the bedside table. She hasn’t seen Hermione in weeks since she fucked off to go god knows where to do god knows what with Potter and about half the Weasley clan. Pansy, meanwhile, has been stewing, and huffing, and fucking worrying to no end.
“Fine,” Pansy turns her nose up, shaking her hair into place. Hermione doesn’t even bother to hide her wide toothy grin.
Hermione’s like a whole thing with Pansy.
She’s like, supposed to be the neat and tidy, grade grubbing, prissy, know-it-all. Which, to be fair, she is. But she’s also kind of criminal deviant with loose (at best) morals, a wicked temper, and a vindictive streak about a mile wide. On top of which, she’s also a very loud, very mean crybaby.
She wears like weird nineties throwbacks and listens to TLC at extremely high volumes basically every day. She’s small, slender, dark skinned, she used to let her hair grow out in it’s natural ‘fro but pretty recently she switched over to box braids because they’re cooler; as in not as warm. She’s a fucking vegetarian and she once spent a full month putting Draco through increasingly elaborate, expensive, and dangerous pranks because he said Foreigner was better than Kiss.
Which was already dumb, but Pansy didn’t even know Hermione cared about that because she mostly listens to rap, girl groups, No Doubt, and fucking Justin Bieber.
So like, Pansy’s apparently got a very specific type and Hermione checks all the boxes.
In the bag there’s a pair of leather gloves, a black ski-mask, black spray paint, and like fifty hair-ties. Hermione runs down to grab drinks while Pansy changes into proper vandal gear.
“So like,” Pansy sits on the bed with Hermione, “What are we doing?”
“Do you know Cho Chang?”
Their year, Pansy has a literature critique class with her. She’s smart, kind of blunt, mostly friendly. “Yeah.”
“She found me, Harry, Ginny, and Ron smoking and told Umbridge.”
Harry and the Weasley’s, it’s always Harry Potter and the fucking Weasley clan with her. Pansy sighs, sips her diet Coca Cola.
There’s not actually like a whole lot that Pansy gets out of her little revenge adventures with Hermione. Well, there’s the whole viciously aroused and generally excited part of it; but it’s not really special. Hermione does this sort of thing all the time, usually with Ginny. Pansy’s really just one of many accomplices, it doesn’t really make her anything to Hermione.
Really all Pansy gets out of it, outside of aforementioned benefits, are the little things. Hermione singing along to her music off-key, tapping her fingers along the steering wheel, the sharp toothed smile she gives Pansy whenever they’re about to start and whenever their finished.
Pansy looks over to the drivers seat and watches Hermione tap her fingers on the screen of her phone while she tries to settle on a song. Pansy rolls down the window and lights a cigarette, wondering how wildly inappropriate it would be to sneak a few photos.
“We’re just going to spray-paint her car windows.”
Pansy stares up at Cho’s McMansion house and feels an irritated twitch run down her spine when she realizes it’s a little bigger than her house. Because helping Hermione with her little revenge plots makes Pansy extra vindictive and petty.
“I vote we get her bedroom too,” Pansy says, pulling her mask in place.
Hermione grins at her, “I like your thinking.”
The car is easy. Then Hermione proves to be much, much more adept at breaking and entering than any normal person should be (flawless lock picking and she knew the Changs’ security code). However, once actually in Cho’s bedroom, the both of them are thoroughly out of ideas.
Pansy catalogues the pictures (two on the desk, fifteen in a wall collage, three on the dresser, one on the bookshelf), puts the five most expensive articles of clothing on the bed, and then promptly sits down on the pillows. Hermione has grabbed the desk chair, spun it around, and propped her chin on the back of it while she sits and stares at the bed.
“Let me guess; spray paint the pictures, mess up the clothes?”
Pansy sighs, “Right? It’s just not enough.”
Hermione shrugs, “We could put raw meat in her bed.”
“Gross,” Pansy wrinkles her nose. Hermione frequently gets a little to intense for Pansy.
“I’ll see if there’s any in the freezer.”
Hermione’s prancing out the door and down to the kitchen before Pansy can say anything. Pansy sighs and gets up to find scissors to start on the clothes.
By the time they’re all done, Pansy’s heartbroken because she can’t instagram any of it.
Pansy demands wine and a hot-tub dip to celebrate. Naturally, they decide to use Draco’s since Pansy has an extra key and the Malfoy’s are currently in the Hamptons. They’re also the only people Pansy knows of who have a salt water hot tub.
The clink glasses, Hermione explains her trip with Potter and the Weasley’s. Pansy spends most of her time staring at Hermione’s mouth.
They’d just run off to get away from the parents to camp, smoke, relax. Ron brought Parvati, Ginny brought Luna; Hermione, the twins, and Harry spent most of their time playing beer pong.
Three glasses in, Hermione is pressed right against Pansy, and Pansy licks her lips. Four glasses in Hermione has her arm around Pansy. Five glasses in Pansy watches the way Hermione’s lip curves and flexes when she smiles, sees how full her mouth is, the way the color fades into a dark pink at the seam of her lips, and kisses her.
The angle’s askew, Pansy’s a little tipsy and not as finessed as usual, but her heart is still pounding in her ears and her blood is sizzling and vibrating through her veins.
She pulls away a little too quickly. Hermione blinks, stares at Pansy, licks her lips and says, “So, is it felonies that get you going or hot tubs?”
Pansy smirks, “Actually it’s people singing Fuckin’ Problems off-key.”
Hermione splashes water at her and plants a quick, gentle kiss on her lips.