seen from Türkiye
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia
seen from Portugal
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Poland
seen from Argentina
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from China
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
⚠️ a text meant for someone else. // @the-hellblxzer
(✉️ ➡️ memaw): oh my god, i’m sorry you had to save me from a shitty alternate future! let it go! (✉️ ➡️ memaw): next time leave me there! let someone ray gun me! let a dinosaur eat me! i don’t care! anything that keeps me from hearing this shit all the shocking time! (✉️ ➡️ memaw): and no, i’m not sorry i ate your chips! and yes, i would do it again!
“ don’t dance with fire and you won’t get burned. ” // @the-hellblxzer
The store had been busy. It made sense, Rachel supposed --- most retail stores were busy during the holiday season, even pagan stores. Tourists didn’t care whether the things they bought aligned with the holidays they celebrated. All they really wanted was a keepsake. It was infuriating, at times, even if Rachel was good at convincing them to buy only the trinkets that didn’t hold any real power. Today, it had been nonstop. She had her forehead resting against the counter, exhausted by the goings on of the day. She felt the presence of someone entering, even felt him approaching the counter, but she didn’t lift her head until he spoke.
“Wow,” she said dryly, “what amazing advice. Thank you. Really, John, I have no idea what I’d do without you around.” She stared at him for a moment, expression dry and unamused, before sighing. “Are you here to buy anything, or are you just showing up to give me a hard time? Because I will kick you out.”
Do you think I can get away with just a pair of sunglasses instead of a mask? // @the-hellblxzer
He wasn’t sure the question was really meant for him, specifically. It seemed more a casual thing, a rhetoric poll of the room. And that was probably a good thing, because asking Danny about fashion advice? Asking him what was acceptable at a party like this? It was a bad idea. “That X-Men guy is wearing sunglasses,” he offered uncertainly, “but... I think he, like, explodes stuff if he doesn’t. So that might not be the best thing to go on...” He trailed off with a shrug, searching for something more to say. “There’s not much of a difference, is there? Glasses, masks, they kind of feel the same when you’ve got them on.”
[ text ]: The Devil has a British accent. // @the-hellblxzer
(✉️ ➡️ John C.): Really? (✉️ ➡️ John C.): Have you met him? (✉️ ➡️ John C.): Is he nice? (✉️ ➡️ John C.): It doesn’t seem like he’d be nice, but I think the stories are a little one sided. You know? Like, maybe he just has a bad reputation!
19) “I don’t even want to know.” // @the-hellblxzer
It certainly wasn’t the worst position he’d ever been caught in. And, frankly, given that Constantine was Constantine, Dick doubted it was the worst thing he’d ever happened upon, either. But... that wasn’t to say it wasn’t weird. It was definitely weird. There was no denying that.
Dick hung upside down from the top of the light pole, a tiny clay being below him, swinging its too-small arms in hopes of landing a punch. It wasn’t exactly a winning battle. Even if Dick had been hanging a bit lower, the thing wouldn’t have been able to reach him. The unfortunate side effect, of course, was that Dick couldn’t reach it, either. They’d been trapped in this stalemate for a few minutes now, and frankly? Dick was getting kind of tired of it.
“Look,” he started, pulling himself upright so that he was balanced in a sitting position atop the light post, “I would try to explain, but... I’m honestly not sure I can. Can you give me a hand here? I’m pretty sure that thing is magic, so it’s kind of your jurisdiction anyway!”
(TOASTED MARSHMELLOWS): for OUR MUSES to get roasted by some animated decorations. // @the-hellblxzer
This shit was getting annoying fast. Robbie already spent more time than he’d like to taking out humans who needed a one way ticket to Hell, but now? He was stuck doing the same for goddamn pumpkins, too. The Rider didn’t seem to give a shit about them one way or another --- he was adamant that people ought to remain their primary focus --- but Robbie wasn’t about to sit back and give a fucking Jack-O-Lantern a free pass.
Especially not when they were so fucking annoying.
“Yo, flame head,” one sneered, rolling towards him. Robbie’s jaw clenched tightly, and he gripped a chain already soaked in pumpkin seeds and fibrous strands.
“I’m gonna learn how to make fucking pie just to put you in one,” he threatened, rearing back to kick the pumpkin. Before his foot made contact, the thing just... disintegrated. Robbie stopped, foot still hovering in the air. A quick glance around showed him the likely culprit --- the only human in a two-block radius, also surrounded by foul-mouthed pumpkins. Robbie made his way over. “You need help killing these things? Because I’m feeling pretty helpful.”
[TEXT] i would never do that! i’m just chilling! minding my own business! // @the-hellblxzer
(✉️ ➡️ sus): ooh (✉️ ➡️ sus): see that’s what i tell people when i definitely did whatever they accused me of (✉️ ➡️ sus): so (✉️ ➡️ sus): what’d you do? huh? (✉️ ➡️ sus): did you kick one of those talking pumpkins off the roof? (✉️ ➡️ sus): fist fight a cat? (✉️ ➡️ sus): explode a sewer rat? (✉️ ➡️ sus): accidentally streak through times square riding a broomstick? (✉️ ➡️ sus): come on. you gotta tell me.
[text] My mouth tastes like poor choices // @the-hellblxzer
(✉️ ➡️ ??): That has a taste? (✉️ ➡️ ??): What does it taste like? (✉️ ➡️ ??): Eggs?
