my darling starlight

chip | she/her | 20s | MINORS DNI | support your local vampires! donate blood today!

[liirker-at-thresholds]

I really like how the scientology speedrunning trend is developing, in this clip we see that the participants are

Not deterred by the closed door

Working as a group

Protecting their identities

Inflicting material costs to the institution via property destruction

Getting away at the end

These ideas were not all here from the beginning. They are genuinely gaining experience that can be applied elsewhere

[goblin-jr]

36 Questions to Fall In Love

ch. 9

jason todd x reader

5683 • series masterlist

summary: jason thinks he is invincible after the retreat. the world (and his mind) proves him wrong

wc: 2.3k

---

Questions used: 10. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?

---

“That rug has to go” “No way! The texture is the only reason I get out of bed” “It’s an allergen trap is what it is”

You snort softly, fingers bunching instinctively in the fabric of his jacket. Somewhere over the last few weeks, touching Jason stopped feeling terrifying and started feeling natural. The Outlaws’ jet is already running behind you, engines rumbling low across the rooftop, but Jason has somehow managed to completely forget he is supposed to be leaving Gotham, and is instead discussing your decor choices”

You are tucked against the front of his jacket near the edge of the landing pad, hidden just enough from the worst of the wind by the broad line of his body. Snow drifts lazily through the floodlights overhead, catching in his dark hair before melting away again. Jason’s gloves are off. Which means his hands are warm.

Which means your brain has not processed a single coherent thought in at least three minutes.

“I was thinking,” he murmurs, “I could bring more stuff over when I get back.”

Your stomach flips instantly.

“More stuff?”

“Mm.” His hand squeezes around yours once. “Already got the backup gear there.”

“You mean the one you left on purpose?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“And the books.”

“You’re the one who made me a reading nook.” he points out reasonably.

“And the coffee beans,” you continue weakly.

“I had to intervene.” He sounds deeply serious about this. “All you had was instant coffee. I couldn’t morally allow that.” You laugh again, softer this time, because he’s smiling now too. It still feels a little unreal every time you see it.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, “if I’m over there all the time anyway…”

Your heartbeat stumbles.

All the time.

Before you can answer, a voice bellows from the jet behind him.

“HOOD. WE ARE LITERALLY ON A TIMER.”

Jason doesn’t even blink.

“Ignore them,” he says immediately.

You bite back a smile. “Your team sounds upset.”

“They’re dramatic.”

“You’re making them wait.”

“They can’t leave without me.”

The jet engines hum low behind you. Snow hisses softly against concrete. Jason’s heartbeat sits slow and steady beneath your hands.

You suddenly become very aware of how close he is.

Again.

His gaze drops briefly to your mouth before returning to your eyes like he caught himself doing it.

Then his hands slide lower, fingers hooking lazily through your belt loops and tugging you in closer. 

“You gonna miss me, angel?”

The rooftop suddenly feels about ten degrees warmer.

“Maybe,” you mumble.

“Mhm.”

“A normal amount.”

Jason hums thoughtfully like he’s considering this very seriously. “Interesting.”

“What?”

“Cause your arms’ve been around me for,” he glances at the jet casually, “roughly the last twenty minutes.”

Your face burns instantly.

“You’re clingy too!”

“Never denied it.”

Unfortunately, that is true.

His grin softens slightly at the edges as he looks down at you, snow catching briefly in his lashes.

Then his attention shifts.

To your wrist.

His fingers slide gently from your belt loop to your wrist instead, hooking his pointer under the lilac beads. Before you can blink, he slides the bracelet off your wrist and presses a quick kiss against the skin underneath.

The sound that leaves you is deeply humiliating. Jason maintains eye contact while he slips the bracelet onto his own wrist. 

Against black leather and scarred hands, the lilac beads look impossibly smooth. 

“I’m taking it with me,” he says with a dumb grin. 

And god help you, the retreat really has ruined your emotional stability because that is somehow the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to you.

“You better bring it back in one piece,” you mumble. “It’s very special to me.”

You see it happen in real time, the teasing easing out of his expression until he’s just looking at you again. Snow drifting between you. Gotham roaring somewhere far below.

You haven’t kissed since the motorcycle ride weeks ago.

Suddenly the space between you feels very, very small.

Jason leans in slightly.

You do too.

“I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU MISS THIS EXTRACTION WINDOW BECAUSE YOU’RE FLIRTING—”

You’re still laughing when he kisses your forehead quickly, almost like he can’t help himself.

“I’ll be back soon” —

.

.

.

—

“Batman?”

The word leaves Jason before he even knows he’s saying it.

Dust chokes the air around him, thick enough to taste. Something heavy presses across his back and legs. Concrete. Metal. Smoke. His ears ring violently, drowning out everything except the distant crackle of fire and… Laughter.

High. Sharp. Wrong.

For one awful second, he’s fifteen again.

The warehouse smells the same.

Explosives. Blood. Burning plastic.

His chest seizes so hard he almost can’t breathe.

“Bat—”

The Joker’s laugh echoes somewhere beyond the rubble, warped by memory and concussion and pain until Jason can’t tell if it’s real or buried inside his skull.

This is how it happened.

This is—

Something digs sharply into his wrist.

Jason’s eyes snap open.

Purple.

The lilac bracelet is tangled against a slab of broken concrete, beads pressed hard into his skin.

The rooftop flashes through his head instantly.

Snow. Your laugh. I’m taking it with me.

His lungs finally drag in air.

No, he is not fifteen anymore.

He is not small enough to die like that again.

Jason grits his teeth and shoves upward with a yell that tears through his ribs. Concrete shifts an inch. Then another. Pain explodes through his side, hot and vicious, but he keeps pushing anyway, muscles straining hard enough to shake.

The rubble gives.

Cold air slams into him all at once as he drags himself free, collapsing onto shattered pavement with a rough cough.

Someone is shouting his name in the distance.

Roy, maybe.

Jason barely hears it.

He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ruined ceiling above him while snow drifts through the hole in lazy white flakes.

His ribs are definitely broken.

Again.

But he’s alive.

Alive enough to crawl out this time.

Alive enough to survive it.

The thought barely settles before something taps weakly against the concrete beside him.

Clack

Jason’s breathing stutters.

Another sound follows.

Clink

Small. Fragile.

Wrong.

He turns his head slowly.

The lilac bracelet lies half-buried in the dust beside him.

Broken.

For a second, his brain refuses to process it. The beads are scattered across the cracked pavement, some lodged between chunks of concrete, others rolled farther into the rubble. The string hangs loose and snapped, one fractured bead dangling from the end like it’s trying not to fall apart completely.

Jason just stares.

Then his pulse drops straight into his stomach.

“No, no—”

The words leave him rough and breathless.

He pushes himself upright too fast and immediately regrets it. Pain rips through his ribs sharp enough to blacken the edges of his vision, but he barely notices. His gloves scrape uselessly against broken concrete as he reaches for the nearest bead.

One of them has split clean down the middle.

He grabs another one.

Cracked.

Another.

The rubble shifts under his knees while he searches frantically through ash and shattered concrete, fingers shaking hard enough he keeps dropping the beads as soon as he finds them.

You better bring it back in one piece.

The memory hits so clearly it almost makes him nauseous.

Jason swallows hard and digs deeper into the debris, ignoring the wet warmth spreading beneath his armor where something in his side definitely should not be bleeding this much.

There has to be more.

There has to—

A bead slips from his fingers and disappears somewhere beneath the rubble.

“No, come on,” he mutters hoarsely, shoving broken concrete aside with bare hands now. “C’mon…”

Pain tears through his ribs hard enough to make his vision pulse white, but Jason barely registers it. Dust grits beneath his gloves while he digs frantically through fractured cement and twisted metal, searching for tiny flashes of lilac between the debris.

Another rolls loose near his knee when he shifts a slab aside. He grabs for it too fast and nearly drops it again because his hands won’t stop shaking.

“Jay.”

Roy’s voice sounds distant. Muffled.

Jason ignores him.

“There was another one,” he mutters instead, eyes darting across the rubble. “I saw— there’s still another—”

“Dude.” Boots crunch against broken concrete beside him. “The building’s coming down.”

Jason finally looks up long enough to glare. “Then help me look.”

Roy blinks.

Because Jason Todd is kneeling in the middle of a failed mission, bleeding through his armor, digging through rubble for little purple bracelet beads like his life depends on it.

Artemis lands beside them both with a heavy thud.

“We need extraction now,” she snaps. “Whatever that is can wait.”

“It can’t,” Jason says immediately.

The words come out too fast. Too sharp.

Roy and Artemis exchange a look.

Jason hates that look.

The concerned one.

Artemis swears under her breath. “That was not a suggestion, Todd.”

Roy crouches suddenly, reaching into the debris near Jason’s knee.

“There.” He lifts something small between two fingers. “Got one.”

Jason’s gaze snaps to it instantly.

A tiny lilac bead. Intact.

Something in his chest clenches so hard it almost feels like gratitude.

His expression softens just slightly as he places the bead into Jason’s waiting palm.

“C’mon, man,” he says carefully. “You can put it back together on the jet.”

Jason stares down at the collection in his hand.

Broken beads. Whole beads. Frayed string tangled through his fingers.

Put it back together.

This time Jason lets Roy haul him upright.

Pain explodes through his side immediately, sharp enough to pull a rough sound from his throat. Artemis catches his other arm before he can stumble, already steering him toward the extraction point while snow drifts through the collapsed ceiling overhead.

Jason barely notices.

His fist stays closed tight around the shattered bracelet the entire walk back to the jet.

—

The jet is loud enough that nobody tries talking to him.

Good.

Jason sits hunched forward on one of the side benches, elbows braced against his knees while Gotham disappears beneath the clouds outside. The medkit Artemis dropped beside him sits untouched on the floor.

His ribs hurt.

His shoulder hurts.

Something is probably concussed.

None of it feels important.

The bracelet lies in pieces across his gloves.

The elastic string snapped almost completely through. Half the beads are cracked, tiny fractures spidering through the lilac surface. Three are missing entirely, still buried somewhere beneath a collapsed building halfway across the world.

His hands feel too big for this.

He fumbles another bead immediately when he tries threading it back onto the string. It bounces once against the jet floor before rolling beneath the opposite bench.

Jason swears under his breath and bends down too quickly trying to grab it.

Pain detonates through his ribs instantly.

“Jesus Christ,” Roy says from across the cabin. “Sit down before you puncture a lung.”

Jason ignores him completely.

The bead finally catches beneath his fingertips. He grabs it carefully and sits back again, breathing harder now.

One by one, he starts trying to rebuild the bracelet.

It goes terribly.

His fingers are clumsy even on a good day, and this is delicate work made worse by turbulence and blood drying stiff against his gloves. The elastic keeps slipping loose. The cracked beads refuse to sit properly together.

Every time he thinks he’s fixed part of it, another section falls apart.

Like the bracelet itself knows it’s ruined.

Jason stares at the mess in his hands for a long moment before finally pulling his phone from his pocket.

The screen lights instantly.

Missed notifications flood across it.

Mostly from you.

His chest tightens before he even opens them.

you better not die btw

followed immediately by:

that sounded threatening. i meant on the mission. not like. in general.

Another one.

i know you probably wont see these till later but i passed that bench you like today :)

Then:

made cookies. accidentally made enough for a family of six again. this is your fault somehow

Jason’s mouth twitches faintly before it disappears again.

There are more.

A picture of fatson todd sitting on his chair in the reading nook captioned your son is taking over

And then another photo loads: Two M&Ms sitting side by side on a countertop. One normal-sized. One absurdly oversized.

US!!!!!!

Jason actually laughs once at that.

Another notification appears at the top of the screen.

Newest message.

Jason opens it automatically.

NEED the bracelet back asap btw so you should come over the second you see this message. to return it obvi ;)

His breathing stops.

The cabin noise dulls instantly around him.

Jason looks down slowly at the ruined bracelet in his hands.

A cold feeling settles heavily into his stomach.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Nobody ever did see his timer disappear. Because he never had one.

Not after the Lazarus Pit. Not after death hollowed something out inside him and stitched it back wrong.

Somewhere out there, years ago, there probably really had been a fifteen-year-old boy whose timer stopped the same night yours did, and the same night he also died. Some kid who died before he ever got the chance to meet you.

And then Jason stumbled into the empty space afterward like a fucking imposter.

You saw meaning where there was only coincidence.

Because you wanted it to mean something. Because you looked at him with those soft hopeful eyes and decided the universe had finally given you your person back.

Meanwhile Jason had just taken it.

Taken the apartment. Taken the reading nook. Taken the hot chocolate and forehead kisses and domestic little routines like they belonged to him.

Taken you.

His chest tightens violently.

No wonder the bracelet broke the second he almost died again.

Like the universe itself finally trying to correct the mistake.

Jason turns the phone face-down before he can do something stupid like answer, already feeling the shape of the loss settling in around him. The apartment. The couch. The reading nook. His books still stacked crooked beside your bed. 

You.

Jason closes his eyes briefly.

Then he turns his phone off.

-----

a/n: people are gonna read this and say i should have not continued this story fr. but dw!~ the next chapter will be up tonightish for surel:). like it was all going to be one giant thing but i feel like it reads better in two so i am just editing that also some updates!! i had my winter depression arc but things are great now. i have moved out of uni and graduated thank goodness. i am also in the final round of a really really great job. just need to not mess up my fourth round interview on tuesday,, and i will have a great career for life.

------

taglist: THE TAGLIST IS NOW CLOSED (cause i am bad at it and its not working). to stay updated with the story follow: #goblin-writes

@liuope , @wheehoosworld , @angrythotski , @ldrtypeofgirl , @the-earth-wonders , @believedintime , @reiofsuns2001 , @lordbugs , @demon-master-zero , @leahbea02 , @cowboybarbie , @silkentofuu, @animequeen454 , @borednessa , @miss-miwmew , @27drunkdeer , @stupidb1tchdepresed , @thetigressprincessofcatinia , @issyhot , @nickey-diano, @shadowmarurader , @anne-chloe , @twismare , @aapkipyari @bloomfaery , @dreammarereads, @insideoutjulie , @buckysgirl245, @pantone-12-1310 , @zonting , @candlewitch-cryptic , @i-put-the-homo-in-homocidal , @starfiremylove , @rizzanna-soda , @fresh-brown-leaf , @natalia42069 , @missmontiopath , @tvnile , @olaflookalike , @calico-cheriies , @royalmuffinsworld , @pato-spoiler-27 , @duskeras , @rebeccawinters , @deadbeatphobos , @1-800-avs , @jellibeanbug , @profoundgreenturtle , @thejokersfavouritecrowbar , @teapartydreams , @honeyedshark , @scaryayat , @satoruslipbalm , @anything4yoongi , @sofia-1d , @southernfrogprincesd , @arianaagrennblatt , @peyiscrazy , @deadofwrite1322 , @liesanddreams , @thebestqueenoftheworld @theendofthematerialgworl , @mrcacapopo , @sweetpeadc , @littlebleepsstuff , @kpiuniverse , @yohanseyebrowmole , @stereading , @dyanasaur , @lllucere , @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t , @beepboopcowboy , @missnymph , @petethecoolbluecat @avgdestitute , @babayadodo , @salvatt1 , @wishiwaswritingrn , @wrenisrad , @blueberrymegumi , @mochiclouds , @raccooninurwalls , @magennta09 , @bonnieo1 , @nickibunny23 , @koibleufish , @serendippindots , @kxxvvxxi , @marenyearlylover444 , @big-al777 , @star-light30 , @gastonlover9000 @thatxcgal , @xxjesshuxx @msluvre , @unclearblur , @getting-the-pizza , @acupnoodle

[ryleyz]

David insists he’s not old. You insist the evidence says otherwise. And unfortunately for him, the evidence usually sounds like his knees cracking every time he stands up.

One morning you’re both getting ready, and David bends down to pull on his socks before immediately grimacing at the loud pop from his knee.

You look over slowly.

“…Oh my god.”

He sighs. “Don’t.”

“That sounded prehistoric.”

“It was one crack.”

“You’re deteriorating.”

He glares at you while sitting on the edge of the bed, sock half on.

“I’m thirty-four.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s not old.”

You walk over, barely holding back a grin. “Okay grandpa, let me help before you throw your back out.”

“Angel.”

But he’s already smiling despite himself.

And somehow, after that day, it becomes a thing.

Not every morning.

Just the ones where he’s especially tired, or sore after the gym, or moving slower because he’s been working too much.

You’ll walk into the bedroom and find him sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing a hand over his knee.

And immediately… “Oh, your joints are acting up again?”

He rolls his eyes every single time.

“You are deeply annoying.”

“Mhm. Foot.”

He stares at you.

You wiggle your fingers impatiently.

After a second, he finally lifts his foot toward you with a long-suffering sigh.

“This is humiliating.”

“You love me.”

“That’s unrelated.”

You snort and crouch in front of him, sliding the sock properly over his foot.

“You know,” you say conversationally, “most elderly people are supposed to stretch regularly.”

“I’m not elderly.”

“You made a noise getting out of bed yesterday.”

“So did you.”

“Mine was emotional exhaustion.”

He laughs quietly at that, watching you pull the sock up carefully.

There’s something domestic about it that he secretly loves.

You between his knees, muttering insults while taking care of him anyway.

You finish one foot and immediately hold your hand out.

“Other one.”

“This feels like abuse.”

“You’re lucky I don’t put you in compression socks.”

“Angel.”

You grin wickedly. “A nice orthopedic shoe perhaps?”

He catches your wrist lightly before you can move away, tugging you closer until you’re standing between his legs.

“You done?” he asks, amused.

“No. I still need to schedule your retirement home tour.”

He shakes his head, smiling despite himself.

Then his hands slide around your waist.

“You know,” he murmurs, looking up at you, “normal people don’t bully the person they’re helping.”

“I’m keeping you humble.”

“You’re a menace”

“And thriving. Unlike your knees.”

He laughs properly then, head tipping back slightly.

“There he is,” you say smugly. “See? Good for your circulation.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“But your socks are on.”

He glances down at them.

“…They are.”

“Exactly.”

You start to pull away, but his grip tightens slightly around your waist.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

Your expression softens immediately.

Because beneath all the teasing, you know what this really is, love in tiny routines.

So you lean down and kiss his forehead gently.

“You’re welcome, old man.”

He groans.

“You ruin every nice moment.”

You grin.

“I love you too”

His hands pull you closer instantly, forehead resting against your stomach.

“I love you more”

[thottythoughtdaughter]

sub!sam mini nsfw

mdni >:(

making out on the sofa, straddling him as per usual, running your fingers through his hair

getting vocal, murmuring what you want, kissing up his neck, hearing his breathing go rapid and his heart race

you tell him to kiss you with tongue, and he does

you call him "good boy" for the first time, breathless from the kiss, and you see his pupils go wide and blank

feeling a wet spot right over the crotch of his jeans

you take care of it

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

insane some people don't use ad blockers? babe why r u rawdogging the internet

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

it's a CESSPIT out there. wrap it before ya tap it babes!!!

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

the notes are insane

"im on mobile" adblocking exists for mobile

"im broke :(" ADBLOCKING IS FREE

"im lazy" i truly sympathize with executive dysfunction, but this is one of those quality-of-life things you need to prioritize. 3 minutes of research/installation will save you a thousandfold in time and energy. it can even help with brain fog (most people don't realize how much mental energy ads actually steal)

"i like ads" my jaw is on the fucking floor. you chose to live in a sewer, yet you will never be a ninja nor a turtle. you do not have a warrior's heart.

[sickviking-fr]

"adblock exists for mobile"

"Adblock is free"

That doesn't sound real but okay.

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

*inhaling deeply and reminding myself that Shaking The Baby only endangers the baby, and does not assist it to learn or grow* in spite of everything there are beautiful and important truths within this world that you must learn, and i must help you to learn

[enby-opossum]

Adblock DNS is easy to install! Works for all phones! It works on most ads, but not video or tumblr.

Settings → Network → Private DNS, paste in dns.adguard.com

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

⬆️⬆️⬆️ Can confirm, I use this method (alongside others) on android. for iOS the steps are different (and it may be easier to install the AdGuard DNS app instead)

[biggest-gaudiest-poltergeist]

the above will decrease the amount of ads you see system-wide. however: hands down the BEST ANDROID ADBLOCKING feature is the ability to install Firefox with uBlock Origin enabled.

Install Firefox -> Settings -> Extensions -> uBlock Origin

this only blocks browser ads, but HOLY SHIT does that matter if you try browsing websites over apps when possible. which you should bc it's awesome and gives you SO much more control. E.g. blocks youtube.com ads and you can play videos in the background. I have never consensually opened the youtube app in my life

Pro tip: toggle on 'Desktop site' to avoid mobile sites that are purposely designed with fewer features (to bully you into using the app).

Note: for iOS users this isn't possible bc Apple hates your guts, but there are other browser options with built-in adblocking.

[monsieurenjlolras]

you've heard of "quiet quitting," now I'd like to introduce you to the next level, The French Work Ethic:

Do exactly what you're paid for and nothing more

Absolutely refuse to be available to contact when you're off the clock

Never prioritize work over your own health, wellbeing, or family because that would be insane, it's just a job.

Have a little glass of wine

Take as long as you feel like for lunch

Deeply understand that work doesn't matter

Make sure your boss your boss knows they're always your second priority ❤️

[lerayon]

🗣️ Hey, young Americans:

Old Millennial American speaking here. I need you to adopt this mentality as early as possible and hold to it. The older you get, the harder it is to begin this practice and claw back the extremely unhealthy effects of a workaholic lifestyle. I am speaking from 20 years of experience.

This does not mean having a shitty attitude at work, or not doing your job, or relying on co-workers to carry your water.

This means you do what it says above. It also means not making work and productively your entire personality; not tying your productivity to your value; and not becoming so emotionally enmeshed in your work and workplace so that you are living and dying by what happens there.

Good luck out there. American workplace culture is mostly designed to work you to death. Moving against that tide can be challenging, so having a healthy mindset is important to living a life not consumed by your paid labor.

[mawofthemagnetar]

What do you mean “chat” is now referring to ChatGPT and not twitch chat? What? What? What the fuck? No?

When I address chat I am speaking to a presumed Greek chorus of real human people shitposting on their lunch break, not a machine that devours lakes to covert electricity into slop.

[moist-n-creamy]

Not me lowkey living my mysticmessenger fantasy 🫣

[moist-n-creamy]

Chat we are so back

[mearchy]

my favorite genre of fictional character is like "i am terrifying to almost everyone, i'm very good at killing, i can endure anything, i've become exceptionally good at playing into my reputation, and if you try to give me positive social interaction i will react with confusion and cower in a corner like an abused animal. and i may try to shoot you. but there is also a chance i may imprint on you like a feral dog receiving its first loving touch! good luck."

[excuse-me-thanks]

“i should take a walk for my mental health” boring, tired, i don’t even really wanna do it tbh

“i need to check the perimeter” i need to check the perimeter

[stillnaomi]

using violence to liberate people from sweatshops, unsafe mines, and grinding poverty isn't the same as using violence to impose those things on people. the idea that violence is morally repugnant regardless of context is a belief that every oppressor throughout history would love for the oppressed to hold

[cheaphalloweencostume]

i always forget religious posts like this are dead serious because starting out with the phrase “i knew my flesh was evil” is so incredibly funny to me

[fairycosmos]

fucked that you can’t fix other people especially when you really care about them. Oh so im just supposed to be there for you while you suffer. like a useless cunt gargoyle

[sadhoc]

as someone who has been involved in union organizing through my dad's union since i was literally in second grade, the way that people on tumblr think unions work drives me literally insane

[sadhoc]

unions do so much more than just strike. unions bargain. unions sit in at meetings with upper management. unions help people navigate benefits. unions coordinate aid drives for disabled members. my union ran a donations campaign for me for the interim between the end of my allotted paid leave and my disability claim

[sadhoc]

"unionize your workplace" means so much more than "talk to your coworkers about striking." you gotta actively know what a union is and what a union isn't before you can form one. calls to unionize should lead to more people learning their rights and learning how unions work, and coordinating with orgs like seiu and the teamsters and the aft (and if you don't know what those are, look them up).

[electricpentacle]

My union found me a legal expert to help me check over my last redundancy settlement for free, provided private medical cover whilst I was unemployed, and negotiated a good deal on cheap insurance for their members. It is so much more than strikes.

[bonearenaofmyskull]

Forming a Union at a Non-Union Workplace - Worker.gov

Forming a union at a non-union workplace You have the right to join with coworkers to address conditions at work. The National Labor Relatio

Form a Union | AFL-CIO

[soulren]

“Ghosts are real” I can see how you could believe that

“Ghosts aren’t real” it’s very fair and rational that you believe that

“Ghosts aren’t real anymore” I’m about to hear a poem or very sad story

“Ghosts aren’t real yet” the fuck are you going to do

[kosmogrl]

[myothertardisisonthemun]

[anotherboredfan]

fuck how do i even begin to tame a brat

[anotherboredfan]

yall im floundering

when one finds herself with a partner that turns out to be overflowing with "make me" energy, what does one do????

i have practically zero experience in this field and i don't wanna scare them off but holy hell does this person push my buttons in all the frustratingly right places