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#myup
marissa-cooper · 2 years
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Why don’t you fucking reach out?! I just told you that I did, I told you that I reached out!
SHIVA BABY (2020) dir. Emma Seligman
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raff2rafflesia · 10 months
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https://twitter.com/ha4to
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priveting · 1 year
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Photographer: Yuko S. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ. ♡
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https://500px.com/photo/1057309876/anna-exploring-the-woods-by-marta-bevacqua
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soundsofastar · 4 months
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what do you want asks about? can i ask who your favorite ninja turtle is. one time i asked someone that and they said "jack" i dont know what they were saying
I don't know the tnmt 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。 never watched.them or anything....big fan of the fact they just seem to enjoy pizza though.
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coldshowercartel · 5 months
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tea-stained · 1 month
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more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more secco more ARAKI FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY I NEED MORE INFORMATION ON THIS SCRUNKY ITTY BITTY BIG FUCKED UP THICC LITTLE GUY ARAKI I'M BEGGING CRYING SOBBING I NEED IT I NEED MORE PLEASE. GIVE ME MORE TO WORK WITH HERE I WILL DIE LIKE A PLANT ON A DESERT WITH NO WATER NO NUTRITION GIVE ME MORE SECCO I NEED TO FEED MY HCS I NEED VALIDATION ARAKI GIVE ME VALIDATION
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coldenheartclub · 1 year
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bonespyre · 2 years
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Look at what happened when I tried typing titties in tumblr tags
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drawbauchery · 8 months
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Do you watch turning red
myup, it's not one of my favorites, but i'm a huge pixar fan!
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marissa-cooper · 2 years
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I’m starting to see now. I have had an effect here… but not the one I intended. Vengeance won’t change the past, mine or anyone else’s. I have to become more. People need hope.
For so many superheroes, it's about them doing the altruistic thing, right? They're trying to do something to help other people. But really, Batman, he's addicted, at least in this story, to being Batman. It's about making sense of the world, of his life, of what happened to him when he was a kid. In a certain way, he's stuck at being 10. He's never getting over this experience. And so to go out night after night, looking for a fight, looking for crime, is a very particular choice. —Matt Reeves
THE BATMAN (2022) dir. Matt Reeves
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raff2rafflesia · 4 months
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priveting · 1 year
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Photographer: Lorena A. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ. ♡
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https://www.behance.net/gallery/112470651/Vika-2020
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maid-n · 11 months
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myup myup
puym puym ...
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pinkiepiebones · 2 years
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If you’re in a narrative mood, what would it be like for a new person who knows very little to interact with the Ghost clergy and/or ghouls? Maybe a new congregant coming to their first Satanic service, or someone is visiting a friend who’s a novitiate/initiate at the abbey? Maybe even an outsider who’s new to the crew visiting to load stuff up and talking with Spesh and Papa IV? The choice is yours! Long time fan, first time caller and I love your work! You’re awesome!
*in their best Cecil from Night Vale voice* Well, thank you for your kind words, dear caller. We do not in fact have a phone number for the station, nor a phone, as the Sheriff has recently outlawed phones due to their tendency to emit a thick, black sludge that screams about your car's extended warranty, but rest assured that I am truly touched by your praise.
*back to their normal voice* ANYWAY!
Mo was not new to the hauling game. He had been hauling since he was a child, loading up rocks his mother had dug out of the flower bed into his toy truck and driving it across the yard to add the rocks to the pile by the weather-worn fence. He was a big guy, always had been. He was a man of few words- 'just point him to the haul,' his coworkers would say, 'Mo can carry most anything all on his own and load a truck up right.' Mo would hear this and nod. Damn right.
But then a coworker fell ill and Mo had to take her place on a special assignment. He sat in the back of the team van as it followed the cargo truck up winding, narrow roads Mo had never seen before. The landscape shifted almost imperceptibly, becoming darker, with a miasma of choking fog reducing visibility. After what seemed like hours, a building appeared on the hazy horizon, all black and steeples. To Mo it looked as though they were driving into the open palm of some ancient, incredible beast, fingers scraping the sky.
"What is this," Mo asked as the team rolled out of the van.
The team knew what to do, so Mo just followed, trying not to be mesmerised by the alien plants or the mist or the people- they had to be people, right?- standing on the roofs of the steeples. He focused on the large, old barn that the truck had parked near. A door rolled up, revealing many black cases with silver latches, varying in heights and widths.
A scrawny young man in an old band shirt and black skinny jeans bounded out of the barn and around the team, greeting everyone, exchanging handshakes and hugs. It was cold out and Mo noticed that the youngster's breath wasn't visible. "Huh."
"Oh, you're a new face," the guy exclaimed cheerfully. He grinned wide, bright eyes almost glowing. "You're Mo, yeah? Gary said you're fillin' in an' asked if I'd fill you in, so-" The punk spread his thin arms. "What can I tell ya?"
Mo grunted. In most cases he'd mutter something about the furniture, or the crates, or whatever needed to be loaded into the truck. In this instance, for once, he let his team get started and spoke more than he had spoken in the past seven months.
"What's this place?"
The punk spun on the heel of his black Converse sneakers and gestured grandly to the imposing building across the foggy lawn. "This is the church! We, uh-" he spun around again- "we don't have any such 'official' name, so, simply, it is 'the church.'"
Mo nodded. "Church of what?"
"Of... Oh! Satan. Myup. worshippin' Satan in there."
Mo's eyes widened. He looked at the building, then his coworkers. Didn't seem to bother them. And, as he thought about it, it didn't particularly bother him, either. He had not been raised in any sort of religion and figured, hey, as long as you're not hurting anyone, pray to whatever. He nodded.
"What're we loading?"
The punk bounced over to the open door of the barn. "This is mostly the band's equipment- uh, drums, many drums, guitars, basses, keyboards, keytars, tambourines, one old saxophone..." As the punk listed the instruments he counted them off on his slender fingers and appeared to be looking at the case that contained each named instrument or sets of instruments. "And then there's the stage stuff, like pyros and confettis and and concussions..."
"Special, are you inhibiting our fine moving crew?" a soft but commanding voice called out
Mo turned his head slightly to see a man his brain told him was 'dashing.' Mo had never used that word before and briefly wondered where his brain had found the word. The man was tall and slender, wearing a tailored suit that looked as though a fashion designer had skinned a black dragon to create a suit a biker could wear to an art exhibition. The man's salt and pepper hair was swept back and his face was painted black and white, resembling a skull. He walked with an elegant cane and a confident stride. He was almost knocked over as the punk- was his named really 'Special'?- gave him a bear hug.
"You're finally up from the nap! And no, I was not inhibiting anyone." Special the punk gestured to Mo. "This is Mo, a new hauler, I was tryna give him the rundown of all of this." The man in the elegant biker suit gently shooed Special the punk away with black gloves with blue, claw-like nails at the ends of the fingers. He then stepped closer to Mo and offered one of those clawed hands to shake.
"My apologies, this must be quite overwhelming. I am Papa Emeritus the Fourth, current, hmm, let's call my position 'man in charge.'" He smiled in a way that was friendly and deadly, and Mo shook his clawed hand.
"Y'all going on tour?" Mo asked.
Papa Emeritus the Fourth, the man in charge, nodded and leaned on his cane. "It's been a long time coming, but yes, we're coming back to our wonderful fans." He looked at Mo and Mo noticed the man in charge's eyes were different colours.
"Have you any more questions, Mo, or shall we leave you to it?"
Mo cracked his neck and his knuckles.
"Leave me to it."
Mo trudged off to grab the heaviest objects he could find and get them safely into the cargo truck. Papa Emeritus the Fourth and Special the punk turned and began walking back to the church.
"Special, you really need to remember to bring the informative pamphlets with you next time we have newcomers on the grounds."
"Nah, I prefer chattin' 'em up. I'm a people person! Er, ghoul."
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