#but i think its inappropriate

[adraughtofamortentia]

.

[lightbulb-warning]

shit man he's downright POSTITNOTE'D

[aroaceacacia]

as a general point of etiquette i dont really think it's appropriate or helpful to make comments about hermitcraft when other mcyt communities are going through scandals or anything else of the sort. and i think people should not do that

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

LOVE ME HARDER!

you swear your favorite color has nothing to do with kaiser. but unluckily for you, the boy’s fallen madly in love with you and has somehow convinced himself that he can connect the dots to make you fall madly in love with him. when you meet his flirting with a tough front though, kaiser has a secret weapon up his sleeve (or under his uniform collar).

gender neutral reader

content warning(s): reader’s favorite color is blue, kaiser’s tattoo isn’t super visible with his uniform in this fic

You loved blue.

You still do. And for the foreseeable future, you weren’t going to ever stop loving the color. It was a color so dear and special to you, and as much as you loved all the other colors, there was something indescribable about the blue hue.

It was everywhere. The color of the sky. The ocean. The small Google Docs icon while you scribbled down notes on your computer. A stray car in the distance while you crossed the road. It was the color of loyalty and knowledge, the cool tones even embodying the mystifying feeling of melancholy. And, if you allowed yourself to get a little pretentious and philosophical, probably the color of the universe. 

What a dignified color. You would never stop loving blue. Not ever. Certainly not now. And you would never extinguish your love of the color because of a man.

But boy, was someone making it difficult.

You always heard him before you saw him: the rumble of footsteps, Ness gushing incoherent praise, the shrill trill of German words hanging in the air. Like an overture before a grand opera, except those thirty seconds were the only prep time you’d get to turn on your heel and book it out of there if you didn’t want to say hello to your biggest headache.

“Oh, daaaarling! There you are! Hey- Don’t run away!”

An outstretched pair of arms materialized on either side of your body, and you let out a loud yelp before you were pulled backwards into a tight hug. You screeched like a feral cat, clawing helplessly at the air while a loud haughty laugh rang out against your eardrums.

It was only when you turned around that the sense of hearing gave out to the sense of sight. Beautiful strands of blond-blue hair swept across your eyes, the twinkle of his golden locks not too unlike the catlike gleam in his pupils. Speaking of his eyes, you hated the stupid bastard for how much blue he had on him and more importantly, how good it looked. Even the smug azure of his crinkled eyes made you stop breathing for just a split second, and your lips parted unconsciously as your hatred momentarily dissipated into wonder at the delicate hue.

“Staring at me? Awwwww, do you think I’m handsome? Of course you do. You wouldn't be so starstruck otherwise,” he chuckled. You instantly snapped out of your stupor, and you twisted your face into a disgusted frown.

“Take your hands off of me, you idiot,” you snarled. “I’m not in the mood to talk to you.”

“Oh? Perfect. I think that’s perfect timing to talk to you.” Kaiser kept one arm slung firmly over your shoulders, expertly placing himself at your side. You dug your heels into the ground and kept your place whenever he tried to edge you closer to his torso, egging you to relax into his touch. “Busy being a little color nerd again? I think it’s adorable that you’d pick your favorite color after me-”

“-I did not pick my favorite color after you,” you huffed. You crossed your arms, and you glared directly up at him (this time, you took extra care not to get lost in his eyes). “Do you really think I don’t have a personality or something? To pick a favorite color after a man?”

He shrugged. “Hey, I’m a pretty charming guy, if I do say so myself. Just now, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me. I’d say I wear the color well. Say, if I swapped my red eyeliner out for a blue one, would that make you stare at me even more?”

You wanted to push him off, but you knew better than to engage a professional athlete in a half-wrestle-half-run-for-your-life-thing. “In your dreams. You’re an atrocious mix of colors.”

“Sure.” He easily brushed your words off. He broke out into his usual smug grin, chuckling at you as if he were a cat toying with a mouse. If he could, you swore that he’d gobble you up in one bite and leave no crumbs. “But I’d say blue is totally my color.”

Red hot annoyance flooded your body. This was so unlike you, to be moved to such anger that you’d be thinking of any color other than your favorite cyan hue, but something about this man made you want to beat him to a bloody pulp until he truly was nothing more than a mix of crimson and black and white broken bones. 

“Blue is MY color!” You grumbled. “I liked it even before I met you! Hell, I probably understand it better than you do! Dipping your hair in Kool-Aid and being born with blue eyes doesn’t automatically make blue your color! It’s my favorite color, and me liking it has nothing to do with you! Not everything revolves around you, Kaiser!”

You fumed at him, having blurted out all of the tension mounting inside of your chest. You stood there, wanting to claw off the weight of his arm across your shoulders. You wondered if Kaiser would yell back at you, if those beautiful sapphire eyes of his would narrow into small slits before he’d wind up for the pounce, if he truly would swallow you up into a void of blue nothingness just to prove you wrong.

But instead he threw his head back, and he laughed heartily.

“You’re too funny for your own good.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye with his other hand, and he barely held himself together long enough to look at you. “The world? Revolve around me? Maybe to all those other stupid commoners. Those brainless fools need a stunning star to guide them. To give them any purpose in life.”

You grimaced, skin crawling with disdain as he yanked you closer. His free hand caressed the outline of your cheeks and jaw, and you let out a small “eep!” as he hooked his fingers under your chin to gingerly lift your face to meet his. You held your breath as the German prodigy leaned in, until the silhouette of his peach-pink lips were much too close to your mouth for your liking.

“But, darling… Oh, my sweet, stupid darling…” His voice was far too smooth for your own liking. Like the lining of a regal blue mink-fur lined cape, the kind you’d see in a 1700s painting of a king, the edge you get from swallowing down a mouthful of ice water. He looked too pleased with himself, having you ensnared perfectly in his arms like this. The thick tension that hung between the two of you felt like poisoned honey, and he shook his head at you mockingly. “If anyone were to pay attention closely, they’d know that the script is much more different for you than it is for those everyday fools.”

“Don’t lump me in your weird fantasy.” You blinked at him defiantly. He pursed his lips slightly, but Kaiser didn’t waver even once. 

“All I want to say is that there’s nothing wrong in admiring beautiful things. If you like blue that much, nothing wrong with admiring the blue on me, is there? It’s unhealthy to deny yourself the things that you love so much.” He let you go finally, and you practically leapt out away from him. “If you don’t want to throw yourself at my feet and beg to play the role of my dedicated love interest, that’s fine too! Although, I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to. Anyone would be honored to have my attention the way you do.”

“You’re a self-centered prick. I don’t want to give you any more attention than what I’m already wasting on you.”

“That’s what I’m saying! If you let down your high walls and properly let yourself admire me for the beautiful, charming, handsome guy I am, then it wouldn’t be a waste of your time.” He expertly flicked his hair over his shoulder, winking at you as some of the strands tumbled down his collarbones and back. As atrocious of a haircut as it was, you did have to admit that the color of his weird gradient was very pleasing to your eyes.

But you’d rather eat knives than admit it out loud. 

“You’ll have to try harder than that. Anyone can dye hair,” you muttered, thoroughly unconvinced. “And before you ask, I’m not interested in staring at your eyes either. Blue eyes mean nothing to me. And I can always go buy color contacts off the internet and stare at those instead if I really want to.”

“Boo! That’s so boring! Wouldn’t you want a real living person? Someone with personality?” He pouted.

You rolled your own eyes. “Yeah. Someone that doesn’t have a stick stuck up their ass.”

Kaiser pressed his lips into a line, suddenly lost in heavy thought. He knew your patience was already running thin with him, and while it was frustrating that the typical antics he’d lavish onto his fans wasn’t netting him the reaction he wanted from you, it still thrilled him the same. You were so tough to crack! He knew deep down that you had some heart for him and that you loved admiring beautiful things! And was he not the most beautiful thing of them all? He was skilled, talented, the kind of guy anyone should be flattered to have. All he needed was to convince you with something unique, something that no other groupie or fan of his couldn’t have, and maybe that would be the key to luring you over.

To turn that burning red hatred of yours into a calm, placated blue interest.

“Well, what if I give you something truly special then? If I could show you something that you have to admit is beautiful, would you admire me then?” He offered tentatively. You sniffed, keeping your head held high, but he took your silence to mean that it wasn’t a complete refusal.

He broke out into the biggest grin you had ever seen. Your confidence wavered slightly at his smug smirk, and nervousness prickled over your skin. You held your breath as Kaiser slowly raised his hand to his neck. Two fingers hooked onto the golden collar of his Bastard Munchen uniform, which covered a generous portion of his neck.

He yanked down. 

A flash of deep, royal blue stunned your vision, and your eyes instinctively widened. Kaiser tilted his neck to the opposite side, making sure you could catch a proper glimpse at the part of his throat that was normally concealed by his uniform. You felt like something inside of your brain had violently hit the brakes the moment the color hit your eyes. 

Roses.

Beautiful, beautiful blue roses. 

You’re automatically entranced by them. They’re tattoos, each expertly painted on his skin with a careful hand. The black outline makes the rich hues pop even more against his body, and while you tiptoe forward to catch a better view, you can only make out the better part of one of the bigger roses. The rest are covered by his uniform, and you can see the hint of inked thorns traveling away from the flowers and towards his arm. 

Kaiser instantly caught the shift in energy from you. He wisely kept his mouth shut, but some prideful part of him was celebrating inwardly. He let you step closer to admire the handiwork on his body, your curiosity delighting him to no ends.

You wanted to touch them. To touch him. Oh, you could imagine the feeling of soft rose petals under your fingertips while you were utterly mesmerized by his tattoo, almost forgetting that it was just an inked drawing rather than real flowers.

“Well? Isn’t it lovely?” 

You flinched, snapping back to life. Dumbfounded, you were at a loss for words. It was completely unlike you to not have some kind of mean comeback to snark at him with, but the secret weapon Kaiser had on hand was too much. His tattoo had overwhelmed you in a heartbeat, the artistic touch only making you want to see it again.

But unfortunately for you, he adjusted his uniform back into its regular position with a cruel smile. “See? I knew you’d like it. Do you want to look at it again? Oh, I know you do. C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want to see it again. It’s not like I’m going to refuse.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and very hesitantly, you swallowed back your pride. “Can… Can I see your tattoo again?”

“With pleasure, darling.” He cooed. He paused for a moment, and he pulled you closer towards him. You gulped nervously when he peered down at you, clearly savoring the victory he had earned by pulling wool (or in this case, a lovely tattoo) over your eyes. 

“But why don’t I take you to my room instead? I’ll take off my shirt for you. That way you can see the entire thing. And then you can fawn over me properly. You just said you wanted to see my tattoo again. Those pretty roses,” he leaned in, tempting you over and over with the fleeting memory, “Those pretty, pretty roses that are in your absolute favorite color.”

You were torn, and Kaiser reveled in that tormented expression of yours.

He held his hand out. “No need to be shy. Let me show you all sorts of beautiful blue things, my darling.”

x

[oohlookafrog]

fun little trivia fact about me i once innocently suggested a book (Loveless, by Alice Oseman) for a book club that i was starting with a couple people and then proceeded to spend the next 3 months fighting to get that book in the school library like in my free time i was emailing the other book club members links about content warnings and unfairly banned books and meeting with the librarian and the principal and anyways i just realized that that was like. a full year ago now. And the funniest part? despite rereading that book countless times during that time period it still took me several months to realize i was aro/ace

[yuri-for-businesswomen]

im not autistic but i believe in their beliefs (because i share like 80 % of symptoms typical for autistic women with yall)

[jawz]

hi, i also live in the PNW and i can tell you that calling your manager a cunt is ABSOLUTELY rude, at bare fucking minimum, and at most normal jobs you would be fired or at least disciplined. it is NOT common vernacular here, this isn’t melbourne or sydney for fuck’s sake. it is absolutely still considered a sexist slur by many women in this region. and we know what men mean when they call us that

[the-reall]

My two cents just before bed, I think the website will be 'fixed' at -18:00.

On reddit, u/friendly-Ad2904 brought up something Stan said during "Not What He Seems." He says (paraphrased) "Just 18 more hours [before the portal can open], everything changes today."

Already a good bet on its own, but I have another reason to believe that this is the time. This is meta gaming but you want this whole thing dragged out long enough to be "painful," but not so long ppl will get bored and the hype dies down. Imo 18 hours is perfectly in this window

It's also likely that an American show will favor American timezones (the website will be fixed when most of the US is awake to see it). This lines up with the -18 timer. I eye-balled it cus eepy, but it will be roughly 9am est (pls if i got this wrong its cus its super late rn 🙏). Thats early in the day for obsessive fans catch it and start talking about it (wtvr "it" is) before social media prime time (8am - 3pm), basically expediting the hype train process.

Also the book is on sale right now for $18 (pointed out by a handful of ppl), and u/special-drama-8840 brought up that ep 18 s2 is the start of Weirdmageddon.

TLDR: I connected the dots (we'll see tomorrow if I didn't connect shit)

[Will link credit tomorrow!]

[dropshortdoe]

Eat your heart out ❤️

Ft. my God awful Fly couple

[moeblob]

I'm sorry for the OC brain rot on main....

(the lines are from a post about "tag yourself: awkward/unflirty Sims edition" and honestly? all my OCs are awkward/unflirty so ... yeah...)

[gunsatthaphan]

Twitter soms are abuzz with the possibility of a age gap between KantBison. If it becomes true then it'll be the first FirstKhao show where their characters have a significant age difference. Btw, isn't Khao older than First by a month or 2 irl? 😄

yeah idk why but I guess there's a general belief that kant is significantly older lol but did they ever confirm that? not that I remember. but anyway I would be okay with that as long as it's not astronomical because from the pics we've seen so far the only gap that would make sense to me is 21-ish and 30-ish, everything else would be weird and also yes, First is only 6 weeks older lol.

xxx

[everythingwasnormalhere]

A bunch posts ago I said Kenny is kinda part latino and never elaborated sooo

His mother is latina, specifically from Paraguay (like my best friend :D), but she and her brother moved to South Park when she was really young so she doesn't practically have an accent

However, she does speak in Spanish when talking to her parents (her brother doesn't talk to them, but she does) and to her brother

Kenny was mainly raised in English, but he forced himself to understand some words in Spanish as a little kid so he could understand his mother when she's talking to her family

When Kenny was about five, Carol's brother died (of old age they said, but really he got AIDS), but he lived with the McCormick's up until then. As he refused to learn English, Kenny also had to understand him in the very few times they would talk

Between his parka covering him and the cold weather, Kenny's skin looks like a white kid's, but if it was warmer and sunnier he'd tan really quick

Kenny can't form coherent sentences in Spanish too well, but he can understand almost everything in Spanish, mainly if it's with Paraguay accent (and he also knows a couple words in Guaraní, but it's a really hard language so that's it)

When he ended up at Mexico (S4 E10, "Probably"), he at first didn't understand anything because he wasn't used to listening to people talk to him in Spanish (as the one who mainly did it was his uncle) and less to the Mexican accent, but eventually he managed to communicate enough to get himself and Cartman out of there

Some of his favorites bands in Spanish are El Cuarteto De Nos (mainly El Cuarteto Tapicero) and Skimales (principally because of Atropellando Viejas and Ploma, La Gallina En Coma)

Also, when he watched Terrance & Phillip: Asses On Fire, he looked up the Spanish version of Uncle Fucka, and it didn't disappoint (as a Spanish person, it really slaps more than the original)

He will insult people in Spanish (there's so many Spanish swear words it's fucking awesome), and if they ask what it means he'll just say "gilipollas" means "handsome" or something like that XD

[anghraine]

The English class I teach just finished a unit on literary criticism, and one of the things we talked about was the distinction between criticism in the sense of literary criticism/critical thinking and criticism in the more common sense of criticizing things.

I think the distinction is important, and it's important to take the next step, too. Nobody is obliged to like anything or not to recognize its flaws. But pointing out flaws is often the lowest-hanging fruit when it comes to engaging with a text—the quickest, easiest approach to take.

For many, it's quite easy to default to kneejerk critical reactions (in the common sense) without thinking them through or seeing any need to do so. That isn't just different from critical thinking; it's the opposite of it and actively impedes it.

I've often seen this in creative writing workshops. People typically are much readier to point out real or imagined flaws than to think through what the text is aiming for and how the author's choices aid or inhibit it. When workshop students encounter a very good piece, they often don't know how to respond and will resort to comfortable nitpicking or simply "I don't see anything wrong with this," as if finding wrong things is the sole purpose of a workshop.

But the idea that thinking critically about things = criticizing or condemning them seems to loom even larger over literary criticism and reviews and fandom meta and all sorts of things. Identifying and analyzing flaws can be part of critical responses (in the lit-crit sense) and often are. I am personally not at all hesitant about pointing out flaws when I see them or connecting them to more general interpretations. But critical thinking does not begin or end with pointing out flaws and it's entirely possible for critical thinking about a piece to result in an even greater conviction that it's wildly successful in its aims and as a piece of art.

I was partly thinking about this because of the common insistence that it's okay for people to like things (thank you, kindly overlord!) as long as they also think critically about them. But "think critically" here almost always seems to mean "as long as you point out its flaws every time you mention it and your actual overall opinion about it is ambivalent at best." The goal doesn't seem to be for others to ever have a reaction like, "I stopped and thought deeply about how it's crafted and what it's doing, and thanks! Now I have a fuller understanding of how spectacularly well it accomplishes its artistry."

It's fine to be ambivalent about things and point out flaws, as I said before, but a) it doesn't take critical thinking to do that alone, and b) it's not required for someone to feel and do that to be thinking critically about something.

[greasydumbfuck]

that body of his is insane. hes so handsome. i cant live like this anymore

[skunkes]

unsure how to word this but there is something about having ocs with unsavory events happening in their past where it's like. talking about it, even when asked, seems almost gratuitous and inappropriate. and i'd much rather describe it through the oc themself and/or draw Them saying it. which is like. fitting for the subject matter? like of course its weird to talk about somebody else's business...!

and falls back into humanizing em/exploratory writing and development where u consider the impact of words said/words unsaid/HOW those words are said etc etc

[rainsoftenings]

this picture is so awesome