#as you can see i love to ramble passionately

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Guys Listening to You Ramble

G/N. Just something light hearted. Masterlists

"Sorry," you say, looking sheepish.

You must have talked nonstop for the last ten minutes. Not that he's complained much about it. Nevertheless, when it's something you're particularly passionate about, you can't help yourself. It's a habit you're trying to break out of.

"I was rambling again, right?"

.

.

Ryuhei continues looking at you like the lovestruck fool that he is.

Fact is, he tuned out when you were only a few sentences in, preferring to bathe in the melody of your voice, bask in the centre of your attention instead. He looks at your pretty face and your full lips and he's just grateful to be here.

.

.

Goo grins, "Yep, but don't stop sweetheart."

He's self aware enough to know that he absolutely loves the sound of his own voice and you have done your own fair share of listening. It's the least he can do. Besides, seeing you light up when you talk about something you're passionate about is absolutely adorable.

.

.

"Yes," Gun deadpans, face blank but eyes soft. "I don't mind."

He's never felt the urge to tell you to shut up. To be honest, ramblings that would have started a headache from anyone else, he can't get enough of when it's from you. He's so used to the silence when on his own that your voice is a welcome reminder of your company.

.

.

Vin peeks at you over his sunglasses and shrugs. "I stopped listening ages ago."

You huff a little even if you did apologise, because what a rude asshole. And you don't hesitate to tell him so.

But beneath the facade, he has taken every word to heart and when he later asks a question so specific to a throwaway sentence during your ramble, you can't help smiling at how closely he was listening.

.

.

"Yeah," Jake pulls you close and kisses you sweetly on the forehead, " but I like it."

He will happily listen to you talk about anything. It's a nice break from some of the troubles of Big Deal, reminding him that the world is bigger than his bubble and as a bonus, you're cute as hell especially talking about your latest interest.

.

.

"It's fine," Johan mutters, tips of his ears pink.

He has no problem telling most people to shut the hell up but he can never bring himself to be mean to you. Besides, you know he's telling the truth. He listens, face soft and content, not even realising he's wearing a small smile for you.

.

.

Samuel rolls his eyes and pulls you into his lap.

He's a great listener. Honed after years of working in the corporate world, listening to far more dull and boring people. Whatever you say is infinitely more interesting.

Samuel tells you this, arms wrapped around you and face nuzzling into your neck.

[meliciousmel13]

̗̗̀̀➛ BUSY

warnings: just pure angst

wc: 1,800~

SYNOPSIS: she’s always working. and your drifting apart because of it.

an: idk about this one guys

She was always working. Couldn’t last an hour without writing something down on her notes app, or fucking relax for a day. you quickly got tired of it after a few weeks into your relationship.

She was always out. couldn’t stay still or stay at home. whenever you did agree to go out, the only thing you could think of was all the cameras you knew were on you.

You loved billie. you loved her to death. she was the love of your life. but she’s never around. and on the rare occasions that she wasn’t working, she would be too tired to do something fun with you.

You were desperate all the time. practically begging for her attention. you felt like a stranger in your own skin. having to sleep in an empty bed nearly all the time, even when billie does sleep with you, you still feel uncomfortable in her arms. because you weren’t used to having her near you. not used to having someone hug you from behind. not used to being so warm and safe.

You knew you were falling apart. you knew months ago—you’ve been knowing. but you still chose to ignore it. the way she’d slowly forget about some things you said when her usual arm around the shoulder turned into nothing. the usual giggles when she did something stupid slowly turning into sighs.

It was depressing—not saying anything—refusing to even believe it yourself was depressing. that you were drifting apart. that she wasn’t your billie anymore. she was her job.

You loved her passion. you loved when she rambled about her music and how she creates. but whenever she’d mention a tour your entire brain turns into mush. you know you should be happy for her—proud—but you couldn’t. going on tour means that you couldn’t even have her. couldn’t hug her or lay your head on her lap.

The tour ruined you even more. as if you weren’t already on the edge. You used to call every day, her voice that kept you from spiraling too far. You used to sleep on call, her soft breathing on the other end a lullaby that made the distance feel less suffocating. But now, but now—there was only silence. She didn’t call first anymore. Didn’t check in. Your phone stayed painfully still, the void between you stretching wider with every passing hour.

When you did call, it rang too many times. Sometimes she answered, distracted, her voice tinged with exhaustion. Other times, she didn’t. Excuses piled up—interviews, rehearsals, travel—but they felt hollow. Like maybe you weren’t worth the effort anymore. Like maybe the space she filled in your life didn’t exist in hers.

You tried telling her about your concerns, you tried. a million times you tried. but they never work. so you thought that maybe when she comes back from tour you’d try again. to tell her. so she can fix it. She always fixed everything.

She came back from tour exhausted. She was free for a whole two months. even though she wasn’t totally free, she still had to work and prepare but you were still ecstatic, and billie couldn’t be happier to see you.

“Baby!” Billie gasped, her arms sweeping down to catch you as you practically launched yourself into her embrace. Your feet barely touched the ground as she lifted you, holding you close, too close, like she was afraid to let you go. Still in your pajamas, with mismatched slippers, you looked ridiculous, ridiculous on camera. But you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was her, the warmth of her body, the scent of her hoodie, the soft thrum of her heartbeat that grounded you.

“Billie,” you mumbled into her neck, your voice muffled against the fabric, but she felt so real, so solid in your arms, you almost forgot how much you’d missed her. She hummed softly, she hummed and you could feel the vibrations through her warm chest.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered, her words catching in your hair as she pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. Her hands slid down your back, steadying you as your legs dangled. Her arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer, and you felt that familiar tug in your chest like you could lose her if you weren’t careful.

You nodded against her shoulder, fingers clutching at the back of her hoodie, desperate to keep her there, like if you let go for even a second, she might slip away. “I hate it when you’re gone,” you admitted, the words feeling heavy as they slipped out. You didn’t want to be this vulnerable, but it was too late.

“I know, angel,” she murmured, her voice soft, but firm, like a promise. She cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet her gaze. Her blue eyes sparkled in the harsh airport light, but there was something else there too, something that looked like guilt—or maybe it was relief. You weren’t sure anymore. “I’m here now. You’ve got me.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over, but before you could speak, Billie leaned in. Her lips brushed over yours in a kiss so gentle, so tender, it almost made your chest ache. Time seemed to slow, the noise of the airport fading away, until it was just you and her in your own little world. When she pulled back, she smiled, brushing a thumb over your cheek.

“And by the way,” she teased, her voice lighter now, but you could still hear the exhaustion in it, “nice pajamas. Truly a statement.”

The bus door closed behind you, the hum of the city fading as the world outside was left behind. Billie dropped her bag on the seat with a soft sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly as she slid into the booth. The energy between you felt different now, quieter. You had tried to keep the lighthearted mood going, but the silence between you two was thick, almost palpable.

You sat down across from her, legs curled up beneath you, waiting for her to say something, anything. She glanced up briefly, offering you a quick smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, before looking back down at her phone.

“I’m just really tired,” Billie murmured, the words barely above a whisper as she tapped on the screen, distracted. “I’ve had a long day.”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. The warmth that had been between you earlier felt like it had slipped through your fingers, leaving you in the cold space that now seemed to stretch between you. She didn’t look up again, her attention solely focused on her phone, her fingers swiping with mechanical precision.

“Yeah, I get it,” you said softly, glancing at her, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Billie let out a soft sigh, the kind that spoke volumes without a word. She finally looked up at you, her eyes softer now, but her voice still distant. “I’ll be better tomorrow. Just… tired, y’know?”

You nodded again, a faint ache tugging at your chest. Her words were meant to reassure you, but the emptiness in her tone made it harder to believe.

The seconds stretched into minutes, and the space between you felt wider with each passing moment. Neither of you spoke, the quiet pressing in on you both as the bus moved down the road.

When the bus finally came to a stop outside the house, you felt like you were stuck in slow motion. You stepped out, your legs unsteady, but you couldn’t shake the weight in your chest. Everything around you was the same, but the air between you and Billie felt different—colder, heavier.

The door clicked shut behind you, and you lingered for a moment just inside the entryway, eyes on the floor.

Billie moved past you, her footsteps echoing softly through the quiet house as she dropped her bag by the door and hung her jacket on the hook. She didn’t even look at you.

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself, but your heart was already pounding, the words stuck at the back of your throat. You didn’t want to do this. Not now. Not like this. But you knew if you didn’t say something, you’d lose her completely.

You barely whispered her name. “Billie?”

She didn’t turn to you right away. “Hmm?” Her voice was soft, tired, distant. She didn’t sound like she was really listening.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. You could feel the pressure of four years, of everything you’d been through together, weighing down on you. It felt like you were standing on the edge of something, like if you took one wrong step, it would all fall apart.

“I—” you faltered, your voice trembling, but you forced the words out anyway. “I feel like… you’ve been so distant. I don’t know what’s happening, but it’s like you’re not here anymore.” You winced as you said it, like admitting it would make it all real.

Billie stopped what she was doing but didn’t turn around. The silence between you felt endless, like she was taking her time to decide how to handle it. You could feel your hands shaking at your sides, a deep ache in your chest that made it hard to breathe.

“I’m just tired, baby,” she said after a long pause, her voice quieter now, almost apologetic. “Tour, everything… it just gets to me sometimes. I didn’t mean to shut you out.”

You nodded, though it didn’t make you feel better. You wanted to believe her, you really did, but the distance between you felt too real to ignore. You took a shaky breath, barely able to meet her eyes. “I don’t know if I can keep pretending like everything’s fine when you’re like this.”

Billie’s shoulders stiffened slightly, but she didn’t turn around. Her hands were still on the counter, gripping the edge like she needed to steady herself. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, barely loud enough for you to hear. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just… sometimes it’s too much, you know?”

Your heart sank at her words, but you didn’t have the strength to push her further. Instead, you took a slow step toward her, voice small but desperate. “I just need to know that you still want this. Want me.”

There was another heavy silence, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to hear what she’d say next. You stood there, trying to keep yourself from shaking, barely able to breathe as you waited for her answer.

Finally, she turned toward you, her face soft but guarded. “Of course I do. I just need a little time, okay?”

You nodded, but it felt like a fragile promise.

taglist: @chrissv4mp, @billiesguitar, @ilovebillieeilish2000, @d14n4ol, @raspberrymacaroon if your not a part of this list but want to be comment under my taglist post, which is on my masterlist.

b.e masterlist | m.b masterlist | s.r masterlist | taglist

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Hi, Sue! Just wanted to quickly say thank you for your amazing blog! I love it, you're the number one blog here I always wait to update💙 You're an absolute sunshine 🌟

Happy THK day, still can't proceed we finally here!

Hi Mei, oh you are the sweetest 🥰😍

I’m always happy to yap about FK (and JD is fast becoming a fav too!)

And yes, happy THK to all of us!! We made it 😊

What do you think about the first episode? For me, I absolutely love it.

I adore the costumes, the accessories of our boys and the cinematography plus colouring are all on point. Every single thing has a purpose in the show! The aesthetics, vibes and song/soundtrack are also amazing.

Special highlights for me - all four boys nailing their persona:

From Bison being bratty to his older brother (and you can tell he has Fadel wrapped around his pinky heheh) but turning into a baby girl when Kant flirts with him. There is a touch of naivety to Bison while still jaded (I don’t know if you notice, but I was captivated when he seduce the crime lord - you could see his revulsion in the face when he hugged him to his bosom while still smiling sweetly).

To Kant being confident and bold with his sexuality - he knows he is a catch. So swoonworthy, especially when he confronted Fadel in front of the diner - Fadel saying something a long the line of “you’re full of yourself” and Kant saying “Yes I am but your brother doesn’t have any complain” - we stan a confident king heheeh

And how about Style - crazy and ridiculous but so endearing. From him basically just saying upfront to Fadel “yeah sorry, I wasn’t paying much attention cause I was using my phone while driving” to him caressing Kant’s car (I swear he wanted to make love with it 🤣) and even him dancing 🕺 and flexing his muscles 💪

(And that’s another thing with this series so far - usually I don’t like singing/dancing in Thai BL. But the singing/dancing we see so far in THK all have purposes, even the off singing by Bison while he drunkenly lost it or seducing the crime lord)

And my lost, broken Fadel - ah, I just want to hug him so badly. It is such a juxtaposition - with the assassin job, you could tell he is clinical about it - all professional but when he is in the diner, the careful precision as he cuts the tomato 🍅 and prepare the burger, you can tell that’s where his passion lies. But what he wants he can’t have. And urgh, the adoration he has for Bison 💕💕💕💕 - he may not understand his younger brother but you can tell he will die for him.

🤣 sorry for rambling…but urgh, can’t wait for episode 2!

Here, have some wonderful photos of the boys from the recent THK premiere (pretty much KT being a babygirl around his costars 😗)

[pink-november]

Idk how long ago it was, but reading your writing on a stp swap au made me come up with a possible premise for a swap au that i don't think i've seen before. Which is:

What if death was contained in tlq's multitudes (or perhaps more aptly, fragments) instead of tsm's? Dying may be a change, but I think death could considered be a stasis. when you die, you can't really become anything Not Dead.

I wish I could build on this concept (for one, the narrator might have to be different since i feel like he had originally had a dislike for change/unpredictability though I might be misremembering) but the game's story hinges so much on its premise and roles that doing a swap requires changes and considerations that i simply don't have the confidence nor brain power for. Still, i do think my idea was interesting

First of all, I thank and commend you Anon for remembering I had a Swap AU in the works (and for reading it woah! 👏) because the last time I mentioned this is around mid-February. How time flies 😳

(halfway writing my answer, i realized i rambled far too long and had to put a read more here. but for folks who needs a TLDR, though it's a bit tricky for me to do a swap au with the premise of LQ representing death and all that entails, it is something i had considered in my original swap au from months ago and below the cut are some lore i made on how this could possibly work in this case)

What if death was contained in tlq's multitudes (or perhaps more aptly, fragments) instead of tsm's? Dying may be a change, but I think death could considered be a stasis. when you die, you can't really become anything Not Dead.

I hope you don't mind me dissecting parts of your ask but the idea of calling The Long Quiet's "multitudes" as fragments is brilliant and will therefore be called as such for the entirety of this post.

In my humble opinion, Slay the Princess likes to focus on how much of everything that happened in-game is a cycle: TLQ and SM being previously the cycle of life and death, The Construct being a narrative cycle that traps our characters in an attempt to fulfill The Narrator's wish, and The Adversary, The Moment of Clarity and The Razor (as of pre-Pristine Cut update) being prime examples of vessels that have some elements of a cycle in their routes. There might be other cases that I failed to mention here but STP, or atleast The Shifting Mound, gives a lot of emphasis of an ongoing cycle that dictates the flow of the universe itself.

The difference between dying and death is important to note then, for our hypothetical Swap AU to work, because as you said dying is a precursor to something new, a continuation to the cycle Shifty purports, while death is the extinction of what once was, a final epilogue.

I wish I could build on this concept (for one, the narrator might have to be different since i feel like he had originally had a dislike for change/unpredictability though I might be misremembering)

For clarification, The Narrator fears death, specifically based on these:

For me, what Narry is really scared of is the thought of nothing being left behind in the aftermath of whatever end the universe is facing: oblivion, the unknowable state of being. The Narrator is mortal and terribly flawed for it, so him oversimplifying oblivion=death=bad is a very human thing of him to be mistaken of. Especially when you consider how the game has The Oblivion Ending, the very thing he's trying to "destroy". And it is something that we as the player (and to an extension TLQ) can make happen, simply for choosing inaction. There is irony to this, how The Narrator had instead brought upon the thing he wishes to destroy, by none other than the hands of the being he had fashioned to be a weapon.

but the game's story hinges so much on its premise and roles that doing a swap requires changes and considerations that i simply don't have the confidence nor brain power for. Still, i do think my idea was interesting

I do agree making an actual Swap AU where both TLQ and the SM keeps their respective natures while alternating their fundamental purpose is hard because STP is ironclad in its premise and philosophy, something I absolutely love the game for. Your idea is one I had very much considered in my own Swap AU but as you can probably tell, it's a very difficult thing to convey properly without upending several key components of the game. Namely, the nature of The Construct, the roles the Voices and Vessels must play, and The Narrator himself.

I guess this is the part where I'm going to messily loredrop my AU now >v<

The Barebones of a Concept, the unofficial name to my Swap AU, has a Narrator that is dedicated to achieving immortality, an escape to the inevitability that is oblivion. His dedication soon borders on obsessiveness until he had torn the cycle of life and death to achieve his goal in subverting the ending and turning the universe into an endless march of continuous change. With no death hanging over their heads, whatever life is left in the aftermath will enjoy in the abundance and safety of an everlasting growth, of progress unhindered, and if it came to it, an ascension to becoming divinity itself, becoming a fundamental concept of reality.

But the tear he made is far jagged than STP!Narry's own cut, resulting in The Construct he prepared to collapse into itself, trapping him inside, never to experience the results of his hard work. TBC!Quiet takes the brunt of this abrupt tear for the worse, becoming lesser than its counterpart, unable to act and be aware of itself. TBC!Shifty, on the other hand, explodes in a flurry of sheer transformation and growth, preventing the total collapse of The Construct but also turning it into a living, breathing dome. She knows far too much and is too much, so her newly formed consciousness melds and forgets herself, while her oceans drown the Construct with her influence.

TBC!Narry is persistent though, convinced that to escape his cage, the other god must slay its counterpart and become the new order of the universe he envisions. Death cannot meaningfully touch the Ebb and Flow and so he must somehow guide this nascent god into locating the remains of Oblivion and erasing it for good. By that, I mean locating its fragments scattered all through The Construct and slaying them.

Shifty's vessels would then take on a new form for this AU, and rather than there being chaptered routes and loops, there would instead be "Incarnations" to perform the role of the Slayer and one converging timeline to gather all the Fragments to awaken their higher selves.

[forgetbeam]

could you imagine if people talked about, as an example, star trek the same way they do fandoms/media that have sprung up in more recent years. like “god sorry i’m posting spock/kirk in 2024…” “nobody hate me for still loving data when next gen ended ages ago pls!!” shut up and just love things earnestly. there is no time limit on passion and if anyone judges you for enjoying media that’s already ended, or participating in a “dead” fandom then um. bite them

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[calitsnow]

Just thinking late at night …

[squipedmew]

holy shit this is so surreal

10+ years of being a Porter Robinson fan and I finally got to see him live

[telesodalite]

Sort of a ramble, sort of me just writing my thoughts out while I'm stuck with writer's block, but I keep thinking about how Fulcrum was in stasis for roughly 3 million years??

Like, that's a long time, even for Cybertronians. Not a really long time, not an entire lifespan. But still, it's a large chunk of a normal lifespan just gone. Poof.

One second you're crawling across the pockmarked terrain of an alien planet, surrounded by the sound of gunfire, and the shouting and screaming before and after each earth shuddering impact of another k-con hitting the ground. And then it's quiet. You're not there anymore. You're drifting somewhere between not alive and just asleep. Preserved somewhere in the background of a doomed body, ignored by time and space, still here, but also not.

And then there's sound. Not gunfire. Not shouting or screaming. Not the sounds that'll haunt you till your dying days, your own death sentence pounding in your head. No. Just voices, talking, standing out against a silent, dead world. Wondering. Joking. Bickering. Familiar. Just, not familiar to you. And you're awake. Pulled back from the nothingness you've been frozen in, consciousness tugged forwards with the yank of a fuel pump and the nearness of life.

These two moments are roughly 3 million years apart, but only minutes, maybe even seconds, to him. From a hectic harrowing battlefield, to an old silent graveyard in one blink.

How long did it take to really sink in? I mean, he seems to just roll with it. He doesn't seem particularly bothered. But like, what happened outside of what we see? How did he really feel?

Also, his body aged without him. While his mind preserved itself, freezing him as he was right then, his body was left to weather Clemency for all those years. No wonder it crumbled to dust when he jumped off the world sweeper. It's probably a miracle of some kind that it didn't just fall apart each time someone leaned on him.

And even after they rebuild him, give him a better, newer body. His spark, it's casing, all the irreplaceable core bits that make up their inner bodies, it aged in the time without him. Does he feel it? Does it make his body even more foreign to him?

Then he's also a technician with information that's 3 million years out of date. Lucky him that the scavengers probably weren't working with top of the line material. But still it's gotta be weird when faced with anything brand new, because a lot can change and progress in 3 million years, and now some of the knowledge he once prided himself in is obsolete.

Besides those things, his view of the galaxy, of the war, of their kind, of other kinds, is one of the few things actually pointed out when it comes to him being stuck in the past. So, how often were his old views challenged? Facts of life he held close proved to no longer true? There's 3 million years worth of new science, new beliefs, new words, new terms, new views.

And sure, some of it can be familiar, because they're an ever evolving kind, and they have patterns, core beliefs, repeating behaviors, but a lot of it's gonna be unfamiliar at the same time, because it's 3 million years worth of catch up, it's not like missing last week's trend.

In a way, it makes him a living relic of a bygone era for Decepticons. It would've been really interesting to have had that explored a little more.

[boxheadpaint]

how do i start coming up w more interesting character designs like urs. they are sooooo cool and i try to make a character like that but it always comes out stinky

if it stinks thats great

[shouyuus]

What do you do when you feel like you're losing your touch with writing? It's been sounding so mechanical and less flowery and poetic when I write and I'm just like what am I doing wrong. It's making it hard for me to continue and like I should just scrap the whole thing

i think everyone goes through periods shift in their writing style, and i guess my best advice is to just lean in and see where it takes u! progress (esp for stuff like this) is not linear, and also. if it's a hobby that u like to do for urself and a select few others, then there's no pressure to constantly be doing "better".

but i find that if im ever feeling a lil un-inspired, i try to read some poetry or watch slam poems. or read something by an author that u know has the style of writing u like and want to get back to. for me, i have like a set list of authors that i go back to time and time again, sometimes just to read and let their words wash over me, other times, i kind of visualize the intake of text as "adding fuel to a car". cause u can't go anywhere without first putting fuel in first right? so for me, writing is kinda similar in that you have to intake first before u can rev ur metaphorical creative engines.

i love re-reading as well. i go back to my fav books over and over again, my fav passages and poems over and over again. i read them out loud, i copy them out word for word just to feel the difference of actually "writing" them through. it's different when u experience them in different ways, right? so these r all things i do when i feel a bit far away from the writing that i like to produce and want to get back there :)

but, if you write something and then wanna scrap it still, then scrap it! lmfao no writing is ever "wasted" if it helps u get to some other piece of writing that ur happier with right. sometimes ur just in a bottleneck and have to get the "bad" writing out before the good writing can come through! that happens a lot too! so just get it down on paper, and then u have the freedom to do with it as you please!

[castelled-away]

So now that we know the marriage market/schemes of the ton are not Benedict‘s cup of tea & he spends the better part of s3 running away from debutantes who want to marry him… I need Sophie (or whoever is going to be his love interest in his season) to be the incarnation of the word no. I need this lovely lady to be absolutely uninterested in this jokester puppy of a Bridgerton so that he HE has to run after HER. And she’s just like no thanks & completely uninterested & pragmatic/down-to-earth all the time until he like…cries & begs her to marry her I guess?

[dawdlecentric]

Man, this doujin isn't fucking around

Meanwhile, Seikuri in the background...

Doujin: Flashbackers by Totobe

[ilovemylawyer]

i love the EVIL part of EVILIVE btw. i find fucked up, unnameable unobtainable obsessive life-ending love extremely romantic and delicious. it’s the way things are in the evilive world! things are messy! and bad! and i love it! i (at least currently!!!) do not plan on writing anything pure fluff happiness because that is not something that i wish to extract from this show.. it isn’t there! i have no interest in erasing these harsh realities of evilive in my fics. happy lalala is not fun for me to write, and i won’t do it without a heavy underlying feeling of uneasiness and uncertainty and dread and despair and inevitable death. i like pain :/ and half of this couple is one of the most greedy selfish motherfuckers i have ever come to know and he’s oh so beautiful. so i am sorry if you finished evilive and wanted some kind of fix-it happy gays but i am NOTTTTTTTT the guy for that.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

man.. shipping with characters from movies is so hard..

[potatobugz]

UH SO DUDE. YOU GOT ME INTO HOMESTUCK. (i will feast on your blood as repayment) (jk jk) (or) AND I GOTTA KNOW. WHATS YOUR OPINION ON GAMZEE?? (hes my favorite. silly slightly murderous clown boy).

-bo

OH GOSH IM SORRY I TOOK SO LONG 2 ANSWER THIS!!!! I'm so so glad you got into Homestuck :D!!!! it's really good!

truth be told my thoughts on gamzee are....... complicated. I am very glad u asked this actually because I love rambling about The Hyperfixation :D

I hate gamzee but I love gamzee but I hate him. his character is fundamentally tragic to me and he makes me so so sad but also I think he was really poorly written. we're given so much conflicting information in the comic abt his characterization, like Hussie suggesting that he's being manipulated/possessed but then in the next sentence going like "he's ACTUALLY always been evil and fucked up" and it drives me up the wall!!!! Gamzee has excellent potential in my eyes but I feel like it wasn't really. utilized.

also DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE RACISM goooodd. if u didn't know this already Gamzee uses AAVE and is a coded to be a negative black stereotype. like hes angry and violent has an absent father & does drugs and genuinely it's so. awful. and unnecessary.

I hate him for his writing I love him for his potential. just basically he's been done so dirty in the comic and ESPECIALLY in the epilogues :( let him be a silly goofy guy!!!! justice for my boy!!!!! I guess my final answer is that he deserves better.