#i collect white boy stereotypes like playing cards
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Not to be hubristic or whatnot but i am absolutely WINNING at white boy bingo
#trans man#i collect white boy stereotypes like playing cards#im a guitarist#im a bassist#im a twink#im a soccer player#i skateboard#i paint and write#i do pottery and garden#im autistic#what can i say#im just winning
1 note
·
View note
Note
hi idk if you do any requests but i was wondering if you could do some billy showalter hcs ♥️♥️♥️
hiii anon! for sure, i don't mind. i don't have many honestly but :) thank you for the ask/request!
specific paperboy headcanons that just make sense to me
– super bowl INTENSE watcher. he's vibrating in his seat, in a stereotypical man cave with his father anxiously waiting for their team to score ☠️ father-son bonding 2 the max!
– an all american boy
– a father's son. great relationship. the one who suggested he do paperboy work in the first place. they have father son outings semi regularly.
– color assigned toothbrush. he gets miffed when he has to get a new toothbrush and it's not either white, orange, or yellow ☠️
– is into those plastic green military toy soilders. has a small collection, his favorite being 'ducking down with a gun' guy.
– his dog is treated like ROYALTY. he takes money out his little paperboy paychecks to get his dog that good good dog food.
– board games guy. he's scarely good at them to the point where everyone thinks he's a cheater. does connect four count as a board game? ...he's really good at connect four. he plays in that mean way, yk? that way where you place your connect four chip on top of another person's constantly so you overwhelm them to the point where they eventually make a mistake and give you free space? yeah, billy plays that way.
– stole this headcanon from @the-medical-malpracticor (hi!) but gradually gets meaner as you become his friend. the person who mostly gets it is vance ☠️ vance doesn't even know to reply anymore, billy gets really creative with his insults.
– gym tryhard but in a way that's admirable not annoying ☠️
– has a interest in airplanes. it's another part of his military figurines collection!
– his dog took FOREVER to train. FOREVERRR but billy was determined. took him like two months and a half but his dog can do all the silly dog tricks (high-five, roll, play dead, jump over etc etc).
– sadly forgot to get around to teaching his dog how to attack.
– needs glasses, refuses to wear them.
– likes old westerns! ex: gunsmoke & rifleman are his favorites.
– sucks at languages. the lowest grade on his report card is an D+ in his language elective. (i imagine he takes latin! he was told it was easy and it is, totally... at the beginning of the year ☠️ after december, he is STRUGGLING)
– he's still a B average student!! just isn't great with languages!!
– plays cross country! but is all around great at sports except for basketball. he's horrible. like bad. trust me, HE SUCKSSS.
#THAT'S IT!#asks#thank you for the ask!#billy showalter#paperboy#the black phone#the black phone headcanons#headcanons#raz rambles
113 notes
·
View notes
Note
i was wondering how bad influence! jk and oc started interacting? like what made them start talking
[ ! ] this dabble is a prequel to “bad influence”
— words; 1.6k
~
Your professor was looking at you with expectation, the small piece of paper hanging between his fingers like the sword of Damocles over your head. You were staring at him in silence for a few seconds now, and the whole situation was starting to get awkward.
“So,” he pressed on, dangling the paper in front of your eyes. On it, the name and phone number of one of your classmates. “What do you say?”
When he asked you to stay after class, you expected it would be something related to tutoring. Your professor had mentioned it in passing a few times before, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he told you he had found you someone who really needed your assistance. You were beaming with joy for precisely a minute and twenty one seconds until he revealed the name of your student.
Jeon Jungkook.
Before you had any chance to muster an excuse for why you couldn’t — under any circumstance — get close to someone like that, even less tutor him, your professor already had his card up his sleeve. “It’ll be good for your curriculum.”
And you said yes in a heartbeat.
~
Jungkook was predictable. You knew that he would be late (after all, his cringy bad boy persona would never allow him to follow one single rule in his life), you just didn’t know it would be almost two-hours-late. By the point that you saw that hurricane in human form walking into the library, you had already finished your homework for the entire week.
He had the nerve to smirk at you, and you swore an oath to yourself that you wouldn’t present him with the irritation he was expecting. And you didn’t — with all the patience and kind-heartedness that your parents had pushed down your throat your entire life, you put on your best commercial smile and greeted him like he was just in time.
“Well, now that you’re here, let’s start with the basics and go over some defense cells.” You tugged the heavy Immunology book towards you, quickly flipping the pages towards the chapter that you had chosen for that first session. Jungkook had already taken his typical slouched position on the chair next to you, looking like he was about to slide down to the carpeted floor. “I’d like to know how familiar you are with it, though. Can you start by telling me about the types of lymphocytes?”
He chuckled, running one hand through his hair. “I have no idea what that shit is.”
You took a deep breath and ignored the irritation that was building up on your stomach. You didn’t know how someone could be so indifferent about everything. “Well... that’s why I’m here,” you managed to keep your voice cheerful.
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re here because you wanna get paid, princess. No need to play the Good Samaritan.”
You thought about telling him that you weren’t getting paid, but the idea wasn’t the best one. He’d probably mock you even more for wasting your Friday afternoon tutoring in the name of your curriculum. Not that he knew the importance of that, anyways.
“This is some bullshit.” Jungkook rested his head on his crossed arms, lying over the table, pushing away your pens and notebooks as he did so. His black hair fell over his features as he grouchily mumbled out, “I don’t even know why I chose this class, it has nothing to do with my major.”
You were surprised that he was even majoring in something, instead of just frequenting the campus as an excuse to meet girls. “Well, I can't answer that for you, can I?” You asked, tapping on his book’s hardcover. That little antibody drawing was staring at you in a silent mockery, wondering if you’d be able to make him study — or even care about anything. “But I can help you with the rest. Now, come on. Types of lymphocytes.”
His eyebrows came down to form a confused frown. Jungkook would’ve probably given you the same reaction if you had just called his mother all the filthy names you could think of. “You’re really trying to teach me?” He asked. “Like, for real?”
You sighed. The time you taught your little cousin how to read was less frustrating than that. “It’s kind of my job as a tutor, you know.”
Jungkook rose from his position and leaned back against the chair, his arms crossing before his chest. Beneath them, his strong pecs stressed against the fabric of his white shirt, but you refused to look. “You know that you can just pretend to teach me, I can pretend to learn, and you’re gonna get your credits anyways, right?” He asked as if you were the stupidest person he had ever met. “You don’t need to actually put in the effort, princess. Especially since I don’t give any fucks about immunology.”
If he called you that stupid pet name one more time, you swore you were going to knock him out. “Well, I’m already here, I’d rather do things right.”
He scoffed, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes. “God, you’re so booooring,” he groaned. “Don't you have some charity work to do or something?”
“I’m doing it right now.” You smiled. “I can see that you’re really trying to fail this class, don’t get me wrong. But I’m just trying to do my job—“
“Boooooring,” he sang, louder than the librarian would ever allow if she was close enough to hear him. Jungkook looked back at you, his eyes narrowed. You couldn’t really tell if he was disgusted or just annoyed. “Why do you even care? It’s just some stupid class, it doesn’t even matter. I’ll tell the professor you taught me everything and we can both go home.”
“I can’t do that,” you said, firm.
“Why not?”
“First of all, because that’s wrong,” you told him. Just as you were about to say that, also, his unavoidable horrible grades would make clear that he hadn’t learned shit (which would make you look like a clown instead of a tutor), his laugh ruptured your sentence.
“Oh, come on. You’re kidding me.” He smiled brightly — not a tender one, of course, but one full of perverse mockery. You had never met someone as condescending as Jungkook, and he was managing to push every single button inside you. “That’s wrong? What are you, six?”
You frowned. “You’re the child here, just trying to find a easy way out instead of putting in the eff—“
“What are your dreams, princess?” He interrupted again, leaning his head to the side. You really, really, really hated him. “Wait, no, let me guess. A family, a suburban house, and a dog? A nine to five? Something like that? Having your husband cheat with the babysitter before you’re forty?”
Some part of you knew that he was just trying to make you so angry that you would give up on tutoring him. Jungkook didn’t know that you wouldn’t throw away your obligations so quickly, but he was able to make you mad enough to get an answer. “What are yours?” you spat, kindness long forgotten. “Remaining unemployed, talentless, mentally trapped in your twenties, and fucking desperate milfs for money until you die from an early overdose?”
If your priest had heard you talk like that, he would most surely faint.
Jungkook, however, didn’t seem so horrified. In fact, his disgusted smile quickly morphed into a diverted one, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Uh,” he mumbled. “Interesting.”
The shame from your previous outburst was starting to weigh down on you, but you managed to keep it undercover. “What?”
“Didn’t know you had a mouth on you,” he said, clearly entertained. In a way, you were glad that he hadn’t taken your words to heart, because he could probably snap you in half if he was feeling like it. “You’re always so shy and shit. I thought you were going to cry.”
“I’m not shy,” you spoke, defensive. You had gotten close to shedding a couple tears, but he didn’t need to know that. You hated confrontation. “I just don’t wanna talk to people like you unless I’m obligated to.”
He raised his eyebrows — a silent threat. “People like me?”
There was a second of hesitation from your part that Jungkook didn’t miss. “Yes.” You couldn’t hold his piercing gaze. As much as Jungkook was annoying the shit out of you, you didn’t actually want to have a full-blown argument with him. Especially on university grounds. “People who can’t even tell me about lymphocytes. Now, are you done with your victimization session? Can we start, or do you wanna tell me more about how you’re burning college money and you are so superior because of it?”
He chuckled and looked you up and down — actually looked at you. Weirdly enough, it felt like the first time that Jungkook was actually seeing you, and not the empty shell of a stereotype that he had built for you in his peanut-sized brain. “You’re really trying here, aren’t you?” He asked.
You didn’t know if he was talking about the tutoring session anymore, but you decided not to bite. “Is that a sin now?” And, before he could say anything else, you added, “Page 124. Come on. Unlike you, I don’t have all day to sit around doing nothing.”
He smirked. “You’re more fun than you look, princess.”
And, for the first time, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t predictable — he actually opened the book on the page you told him to.
~
One hour later, he was already dozing off, a small puddle of saliva accumulating on top of his chaotic notes. Still, you counted that as a victory.
~
BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION
#enemies to fuckbuddies: the fic#jungkook#jungkook fic#bts#drabble#bts drabble#bad influence#bad influence jk#bad boy jk#bad boy jungkook#good girl reader#x you#x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
What if I,,,, gave you another yan!pico idea.... haha jk!,,,, unless-
Okbutreally- I'm not sure if it's canon or not but I've read somewhere that apparently, pico was the 'popular kid' in his school.
So imagine (almost) EVERYONE in the school likes him... until Y/N comes along, and while pico is enamored with them on the spot... pico makes their skin crawl. They can't quite say why. They get on just fine with just about anyone else. Hell, even his friends are alright- lovely people, really. But, something about the popular kid just makes y/n want to turn tail and run anytime those paralyzing white eyes meet theirs. No matter how many times Nene or Darnell (or any other classmate) has tried to ease the new student's worries about the ginger, they can't get over the feeling that they'd be skinned alive if left alone with him for too long. Of course, pico doesn't MEAN to have his obsession love to come off as such- but some things can't be helped (especially when the person in question is genuinely crazy about you, just not in the 'skin you and wear you' type of crazy)
Hello, Anon! Okay so, I absolutely love this concept! I believe I remember reading somewhere too that Pico was more of a "popular" kid! And I feel like this who scenero would work SO well! If you don't mind, I wrote this in a headcanon format, since it's always wayyy easier for me to ramble on and on about things, teehee ^^ Hope you enjoy these! Mwah!
( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)
From the moment the two of you locked eyes, you knew he couldn't be trusted. Something about him seemed...off. Incredibly so. That feeling of uneasiness only seemed to increase as you spent more time in that school
Gradually, you made more friends, even became close with some of his friends, specifically two of them, Nene and Darnell. They knew him extremely well, better than anyone else he knew that is
Soon, you started seeing Pico (as you learned he was named)...coming around a lot more often. Those sickeningly sweet smiles and paralyzing eyes that looked at you with such adoration as he asked you if you needed someone to walk you to class, everything just seemed so...wrong
And, while you knew that something was wrong, you had no way of knowing the truly disturbing things occuring behind closed curtains
Pico's walls became littered with you, photos taken all without your knowledge (it's not like you'd say yes to him though anyways), and with some even taped into his schoolbooks with cute heart stickers accompanying them on the inner cover pages, the way he'd so sneakily record your voice as you read your answer to an open-ended question in class, just so he could add it to his collection later
You had no way of knowing, and that made Pico's job so much easier on him
His and your peers, especially Nene and Darnell, genuinely didn't have a clue as to why you're so terrified of the boy. They tried telling you how kind and sweet he was, even going as far as to share personal stories of how Pico has helped them
For every story of how Pico helped someone pick up their books in the hallway, you were haunted by that memory of when he stopped you as the two of you walked in an isolated hall, smiling oh-so sweetly as he proposed the two of you trade blood. So the two of you could be closer. "Together forever, (Y/N)~" You remembered the sick fuck telling you in a low (but still almost cutesy) tone, giggling and giving you a half-assed "I'm kidding" as you teared up
For every ramble of how Pico helped someone approach a crush they had, you couldn't help but think of how Pico always seemed to be around. No matter what, he was always so...persistent in wanting to spend as much time with you as possible. He'd always want to sit next to you at lunch, ignoring the way your eyes widened and your hands trembled as he settled himself down. You didn't want to send him away, especially considering how his two closest friends seemed to sit themselves down soon afterwards. Rejecting Pico would be like rejecting them. You were trapped
Everything about Pico terrified you. The time he'd spend gazing into your eyes, the way he'd twirl his gun around like it was a toy every time he observed you with another boy through the shadows, those "mysterious" love letters that would be taped onto your locker, always signed by a "secret admirer", everything about him just made you want to be sick and you hated it
You hated how vulnerable and helpless he made you feel. But he probably bathed in it. You hated how everyone seemed to think of Pico as your stereotypical schoolboy angel. His persona was playing right into his hands, he had all the right cards that ensured nobody would believe you if you came out with this story of torture and obsession
Not that anything you say mattered anyways. You've just been so helplessly starved of affection and love, that it must just be so overwhelming and scary to you! Don't worry though, Pico'll get you used to this in no time. Soon instead of running from him, you'll be running right to him
It's only a matter of time, love
#picos school imagines#friday night funkin pico#picos school#yandere friday night funkin#yandere fnf#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere hcs#fnf#fnf x reader#fnf hcs#fnf imagines#friday night funkin#Friday night funkin x reader#friday night funkin imagines#friday night funkin headcannons#scenarios#x reader#yandere#Friday Night Funkin imagine#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#pico oneshot#yandere pico#pico x reader
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
Finest
Logan Howlett x Reader
(Word Count: 1628)
“This exercise requires you to be self reliant in order to escape. While we are a team in and out of the field, each of you must be comfortable and connected with your gifts, individually.” You called out.
All of your students seemed to be a mix of over confidence, no confidence, or outright fear. You frowned.
A demonstration would be best.
“Pay attention everyone, when the test starts you’ll be on your own.” You told them.
Concentrating on the potential energy around you, you tapped into it with a stream of golden light. You collected a portion of it in your hand, and willed it into a broadsword. The energy hummed through your body as you moved with it, slashing in a downward arc through the air.
“Make your gift work for you in the moment,” With a swift motion the blade morphed into a shield, and then With a breath, you let the energy dissipate into nothing at all.
“And know when not to use it. You’ve got two weeks to prepare. And I’ve opened up office hours everyday up until then. Got it?”
The kids gave enough yeses and nods for you to dismiss them early. Once they were gone, you heard a drawn out huff from the back of the room.
“Logan!” You broke out in a wide smile and ran over to him. You knew better than to hug him, so you opted for a light hit on the shoulder.
“Charles didn’t tell anyone you were coming!” You exclaimed.
“Didn’t tell him.” Logan explained. You rolled your eyes because that was such a Logan thing to do.
Taking him in, you noticed his hair was a little shaggier than the last time you saw him, and his clothes looked like they’d been worn completely down by cold weather. He’d probably been up in the wilderness for all this time.
“I brought you booze. Most people say thank you.”
That was how you and Logan ended up drunk off your asses in your bedroom before dinner.
As a teacher you were given some grace with your room choice, meaning a larger room far away from students. You were free to do whatever and whomever, so long as you kept to yourself.
That was also the reason why you were dancing on Logan in a t- shirt and panties with the music blasting in the background. You felt his hands roam all over your body as you whined to the beat.
He was currently the one with the bottle, too. You drunkenly swirled around and took it from him. The liquor burned down your throat, but the feeling dulled when Logan slammed his lips on yours.
You felt like your body was on fire. Partly from the alcohol, partly from Logan’s hands and his kisses. He had you pinned against the wall farthest from the door, and you couldn’t concentrate on anything but Logan nor he you.
...
You woke the next morning to a hard body intertwined with yours.
Your room was an absolute mess, but you settled on resting your head on Logan’s bare chest. You’d get up later.
Your hair was matted in the back and the hair around your perimeter had reverted back to their coils in spite of the gel you used the day before. Plus, drunk you didn’t wear bonnets.
“Morning.” Logan said. His rough voice was throaty and tired. A pounding headache made you close your eyes and nestle in closer.
You were grateful not to see the two of you together anyway. It was never for long and never more than a fun way to spend time before you went your separate ways.
You and Logan were tumultuous at best.
The last time you saw him you were cussing him out and leaving him stranded in the city after a night out. That was two months ago. Last summer you decided to try dating, but the truth was if it wasn’t one thing, it was another, making the two of you very touch and go.
“I have a class in an hour.” You admitted.
Logan peered down at you. The corners of his lips were down turned, and his eyebrows were knitted together.
“The rug rats can live without you for a day.” He said, pulling you on top of him. You yelped at the sudden movement, but guessed that was an appropriate response to the naked girl lying in bed with him, telling him she was leaving. Even if it was for kids.
“I don’t use sick days on anybody but my mama, my daddy, and my brother.” You explained. You pecked his lips and got up.
“I fit in one category.” Logan said with a satisfied grin. You scoffed at him as you gathered your shower stuff.
“I don’t use sick days on you, Logan. Never have, never will.” You replied with a sarcastic smile.
A frantic banging on your door made both of you go quiet. Logan sniffed the air and snarled.
“It’s pretty boy.” Logan growled out. You huffed in annoyance––between him and Scott (and Jean for that, matter) nothing ever got done unless you did it. It was one of the many reasons Logan was a recurring guest at the mansion and not an occupant.
You swung the door open to a wide eyed, modest Scott, who quickly turned into arrogant, incensed Scott at the sight of a very naked Logan in your bed.
“Not now. What’s going on?” You demanded. Something wasn’t right if Scott was coming to you so early.
Bobby’s name was all he could say.
...
The scene that awaited you at the front door was heartbreaking.
Bobby was pacing up and down the balcony freezing anything he pointed at as he walked past. Blasts of frost shot from his hands in all directions. It was wild and uncontrolled. By the door, what looked like his parents and a brother were shouting his name in frustration. Bobby wasn’t the type to lash out for no reason, he just wasn’t that kid.
“I’m not leaving! This is my home!” Bobby cried out.
You sighed and cut your eyes to the professor, who was ushering children and staff away. A warning would have been nice, Professor.
I do apologize, this was...unexpected.
His voice rang out in your head, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Beside you, Logan drew his claws, but you put a hand on his chest. Bobby’s parents were clearly afraid of mutants and Logan was a walking stereotype of a scary mutant. Definitely not helpful.
Stepping forward, you used your powers to create a bubble around you and Bobby. Nobody needed to get hurt accidentally.
“Bobby! I need you to listen to me,” You started. The boy looked up at you tearfully, and you could see them freeze as they fell.
You took his hand, that along with the rest of his body fluctuated between ice and flesh, and held it. The cold stung, but he needed to feel your human hand.
“They’re taking me away!” He hollered. You narrowly dodged a blast of frost from your head. You held on tighter.
“I know that isn’t fair, Bobby! I know! But you have to calm down. Breathe, Bobby.” You pleaded with him. The less his parents saw him so out of control, the less likely they would send him to some camp or home for wayward mutants.
You took a deep breath, and Bobby did the same. One after another. In and out.
Slowly, his human form stabilized and his body temperature was so cold you could see his breath. You gave him a hug when his ice hand had fully reverted back to his human one. The boy clung to you for dear life, and you felt horrible for him.
“Bobby, don’t forget what you learned here, and keep in touch. When you need any of us, we’ll be there.” You said softly, pulling out a small coin and a business card. Bobby took it, confused.
“Whenever you don’t feel safe, call the number and the place they tell you to meet, then show them the token. Emergencies only.”
You walked Bobby down to his parents and they left shortly thereafter.
Watching them go sucked all the air out of you, enough for you to lean on Logan. In public. The Professor was next to the two of you.
“You are one of our finest, Y/N.” He said.
“Maybe, but it wasn’t enough.” You countered. You didn’t feel like an educator. You felt like you were fighting a losing battle and not too many of your kids would make it out unscathed.
“Social services could get ‘em.” Logan suggested.
“They might bite if they see a white boy, but the second he goes full icicle, all bets are off.” You lamented the fact that there were very few people looking out for mutant children, and you weren’t going to put Bobby on anyone’s radar unnecessarily.
The Professor nodded, before heading off to deal with the fallout with the student body. It was never easy losing a student in such a way. You weren’t prepared to do that just yet, so the two of you went back to your room.
You stayed in Logan’s arms until dark. It was the first time you and him had a rational understanding about what each of you needed in the moment.
“When I head through the city, I’ll stop by and check on the kid on my way out.” Logan said. You side eyed him.
“Play nice.” You warned. Sometimes cases required a delicacy Logan didn’t have, but his willingness to do it was a new thing for him. Far be it from you to stop him from doing something good. He finally saw how important your job was and how much you cared for your students.
You planted a kiss on his lips. And his nose and his ear and neck, among other things.
“That means I’ve got you at least one more night. Better make it count.”
#logan howlett#black!reader#poc!reader#logan howlett x reader#Logan howlett x black!reader#wolverine#x men fanfiction#x men
325 notes
·
View notes
Text
Get to know the blogger
thanks for the tag @kittimau!
tagging forward to @beckily @jkit45 @jt-boi-n7 @n0rmandysr1 @nightworldlove @im-just-here-for-the-comments @mercurialmind @dr-hoffmans-mechanic and anyone else who’d like to participate!
Your stereotypical masculine side
You love hoodies. | You love shorts. | Dogs are better than cats. | It’s hilarious when people get hurt (sometimes lol). | Shopping is torture. | Sad movies suck. | You own a car racing game. | You played with hot wheels cars as a kid. | At some point in time you wanted to be a firefighter. | You owned a ds, ps2, n64, or sega. | You used to be obsessed with power rangers. | You have watched sports on tv. | Gory movies are cool fun. | You go to your dad(s) for advice. |You own like a trillion baseball caps. | You used to collect hockey or baseball cards. | Baggy sweats are cool to wear. | It’s kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people (3 was my max). | Green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favourite colours. | You love to go crazy and not care what people think. | Sports are fun. | You talk with food in your mouth. | You sleep with your socks on at night. | You have fished at least once.
Your stereotypical feminine side
You love to shop. | You wear eyeliner. | You wear the colour pink. | You go to your mom to talk. | You consider cheer-leading a sport (not that i’ve ever done it myself). | You hate wearing the colour black. | You like going to the mall. | You like getting manicures and/or pedicures. | You like wearing jewellery. | You cried watching The Notebook. | Dresses are a big part of your wardrobe. | Shopping is one of your favourite hobbies. | You don’t like the movie Star Wars. | You are/were in gymnastics. It takes you around one hour to shower, get dressed, and apply make up. | You smile a lot more than you should (okay but how much *should* i be smiling??). | You have more than ten pairs of shoes. You care about what you look like. | You like wearing dresses when you can. | You like wearing high heel shoes. | You used to play with dolls as a little kid. | You like putting make up on others. | You like being the star of everything.
Appearance
I am shorter than 5’5” (barely lol). | I have scars. | I tan easily. | I wish my hair was a different colour. | I have friends who have never seen my natural hair colour. | I have a tattoo. | I am self-conscious about my appearance. | I’ve had/have braces. | I’ve been told I’m attractive by a complete stranger. | I have more than two piercings. | I have/had piercings in places besides my ears. | I have freckles. | I have freckles that aren’t on my face. | Usually bruised. | I paint my nails. | I don’t leave my hair natural (i change the colour but don’t do anything else to it). | I have a tooth gap. | I have facial hair. | I have burn marks. | My birthmark is usually visible. | I smile with my teeth. | I have longer legs. | I have a longer torso. | I have broad shoulders. | I am more muscular for my size.
Experiences
I’ve gotten lost in my city. | I’ve seen a shooting star. | I’ve wished on a shooting star. | I’ve seen a meteor shower. | I’ve gone out in public in my pajamas. | I’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator. | I’ve kicked a guy where it hurts. | I’ve been to a casino (didn’t gamble tho). | I’ve been skydiving. | I’ve gone skinny-dipping. | I’ve drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour. | I’ve crashed a car. I’ve been skiing. | I’ve been in a musical. | I’ve caught a snowflake or snow on my tongue. | I’ve seen the northern lights. | I’ve sat on a rooftop at night. | I’ve played a prank on someone. | I’ve ridden in a taxi. | I’ve seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show. | I’ve eaten sushi. | I’ve been snowboarding.
Honesty/crime
I’ve done something I promised someone else I wouldn’t. | I’ve done something I promised myself I wouldn’t. | I’ve snuck out. | I’ve lied to my parents about where I am. | I’ve cheated while playing a game. | I’ve ran a red light. | I’ve witnessed a crime. | I’ve been in a fist fight. | I’ve been arrested.
Random
I can sing well. | I’ve stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant. | I open up to others easily. | I watch the news. | I don’t kill bugs. | I sing in the shower. | I am a morning person. | I paid for a cell phone ring tone. | I am a sports fanatic. | I twirl my hair. | I care about grammar. | I have “?”’s in my screen name. | I’ve copied more than 30 cds in a day. | I bake well. | My favourite colour is either white, yellow, pink, red, blue, black, purple, or orange. | I would wear pajamas to school. | I like martha stewart. | I know how to shoot a gun. | I laugh at my own jokes. | I eat fast food weekly. | I’ve not turned anything in and still got an A in a certain class. | I can’t sleep if there is a spider/cockroach in the room. | I am ticklish. | I love white chocolate. | I bite my nails. | I’m good at remembering faces. | I’m good at remembering names. | I’m good at remembering dates. | I honestly have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Dear people that think the Goodwill wants to sell your Ziploc baggie of used crayons: it doesn’t. That shit goes directly into the trash, right on top of your broken furniture. Surely you mean well when you donate, say, an old dresser with a busted leg. But good intentions can’t magically transform a ragtag crew of temp agency employees into proper handymen.
If, however, you need an informed opinion on one of those homemade mixtapes that sometimes find their way into the warehouse, I might be your man.
Once upon a time I managed to con my way into the world of online music writing. As one might expect from a blogger haughty & naive enough to write under the banner How to Listen to Music, many of my insights have aged terribly. But I was constantly learning from the best critics, journalists and bloggers in the field and HtLtM was gaining steam before my fragile discipline collapsed under the weight of increasing visibility. I still believe deeply in the merits of the template I created to analyze songs on Youtube, which was unlike anything on the internet before or since. Maura Johnston seemed to like it, at least.
And yet I failed miserably at turning these creative endeavors into a sustainable career. So here I am, handling donations at my local Goodwill warehouse for minimum wage. Today old man Kenneth and I are inside the container, which is the detachable part of a freight truck the drivers dump on the dock for the roll-off team to unload. We’re placing the donations on the open edge for the guys outside to grab and toss into gaylords. Yes, the thick cardboard boxes with an open top we place on pallets to store donations in are called gaylords. And yes, my coworkers think this is hilarious. Death, taxes, and “they’re calling you!” from one roll-off laborer to another every time the term is overheard.
***
“You dropped this,” Kenneth says as he hands me a crate of CDs.
“If there’s no Justin Bieber, it’s not mine.” I say.
“You better cut that shit out!” David says.
“He’s joking,” Donald tells David.
I laugh.
“I know you!” Donald says.
“Dude, I’m a poptimist.”
“A what?“
Let’s start by pointing out that it’s a hell of a lot easier to be an "authentic” artist, as a certain orthodoxy of criticism dictates one should be, when your very existence isn’t under constant attack. You’re in luck, straight white dudes! Again. What a coincidence.
Poptimism basically says nay! to all the noise. The Beatles go to Jupiter to get more stupider. Gaga goes to Mars to get more candy bars. Or college, I suppose, if your childhood sucked.
“It means I listen to pop.” Among many other genres, to be very clear. “Top 40. All the stuff you guys probably hate.”
“Bullshit!” Donald says.
I don’t know who he thinks I am but it’s clearly someone much, much cooler.
“I thought you were smart!” David says.
“Am I no longer smart if I listen to Justin Bieber?”
“Nope!” says Kenneth.
“Oh shut up!” I say to the grizzled geezer. “Go jack off to Creedence.”
“I’d rather get gang banged by CCR than listen to that little homo.”
You heard it here first. Listening to Justin Bieber: gayer than being gay!
“Really? Justin Bieber?” David says. “Wow. You think you know a guy.”
“Any recommendations?”
“Marvin Gaye! Stevie Wonder! James Brown!”
What’s Going On. Songs in the Key of Life. Think. These are all stone cold classics. I have a healthy respect for these artists but they aren’t in my regular rotation.
“Those guys are before my time. If we move up a few decades, I’m totally there. New Edition, Boyz II Men, Soul 4 Real …”
“Now we’re talking!”
“Bieber’s better though.”
David throws up his arms in wild exasperation, as if his favorite sports team just botched an important play. He doesn’t seem to understand that I’m trolling him.
To be clear, I do indeed listen to Justin Bieber’s music. “Baby” is catchy as hell, and the song’s DNA can be heard in other notable pop releases from the era such as Katy Perry’s blockbuster Teenage Dream and internet darling Carly Rae Jepsen’s Kiss. I also like “Never Say Never” if only for hearing Jaden Smith say “No pun intended / was raised by the power of WIll.” And for an album created by a former child star falling apart at the seams, Purpose has no business being as good as it is. Stand-out track “Love Yourself” contains the immortal roast “My momma don’t like you and she likes everyone.” And with its heavy utilization of short, staccato notes and sudden, dramatic rests, the song is my favorite example of a distinct style of guitar playing favored by many male musicians. Such “cool pauses” give these songs a slightly broken, incomplete feel that mirrors the artist’s self-assured “deal with it” tone and I love it.
Even Carlos, my arch enemy, likes “Love Yourself”. A while back we were inside the warehouse creating pallets of our best furniture to be sent to proper Goodwill retail locations. Supervisor Anna miraculously felt like hearing some contemporary hits that day and had the building’s three radios tuned to Live 105.5, our local top 40 station. “Love Yourself” played.
“This is Bieber’s only good song,” Carlos told me. He tried to sing along but quickly lost the words. “Sing it!” he said. “I know you know it!”
I wasn’t sure if I should be offended by being stereotyped or impressed by his accuracy. Nonetheless, it was true! I did know the words! I picked up where he left off.
”‘Cause if you like the way you look that much / Oh baby you should go and love yourself / And if you think that I’m still holdin’ on to somethin’ / You should go and love yourself.“
It wasn’t a particularly strong vocal performance but Carlos, somehow, was awed.
“Daaaaaaamn!” he cooed. It was perhaps the only time I ever impressed him.
Carlos, in case it wasn’t clear, is an asshole. He’s the type of open misogynist that progressives, in our insulated internet bubbles, are shocked to realize still exist. My masculinity isn’t up to par with his standards and he likes to torture me because of it.
Carlos is off today but there’s a small part of me that wishes he was here. He’d have no trouble buying the fact that I listen to Justin Bieber. At the same time, I know I need to be careful. After all, Bieber is far from my favorite musician. But I can’t help it. Playing Bieleber is such a fun and easy way to rile up my coworkers.
“You need a lesson in quality, my boy!” David says.
“I’m all ears!” I say, but he just shrugs.
If I wanted to be really mean, I could point out that David just might be the true Bieleber in roll-off. See, David the Bieber-hating quality expert is the same David that sometimes drops me off at the bus station after our shift ends. More than once on these trips, a Justin Bieber song played on the radio. Did he change the station? Nope!
David seems to be harboring a lot of hate for a musician whose songs he doesn’t even recognize. This doesn’t surprise me, of course, because Bieber hate is barely about Justin Bieber.
Leonardo DiCaprio. Robert Pattinson. Zac Efron. Boy bands. The Biebs. Celebrities like these are cut from the same cloth in that they’re overwhelmingly attractive in a way that draws ravenous, predominantly female fanbases. In turn, this provokes intense contempt and ridicule from traditional dudes everywhere. This is bullshit. It’s retaliation against open female desire that, in an affront to their entitlement, isn’t directed towards Man McAverage.
Evoking “quality” is no exemption from these kinds of considerations. Many people treat the word as if it’s an objective and universal set of standards everyone intuitively understands but this is nonsense. Quality is more like a self-shaped hole we attempt to carve into the world, both encompassing and reproducing our ideals, desires, prejudices, etc. It sure as hell doesn’t explain itself.
I’ve been immersed in the world of music writing for a long time. My favorite publications tend to be ones that upend the very idea of quality. The Singles Jukebox gathers a variety of writers to weigh in and score the same song, and reading wildly different takes on what makes art good or bad is enlightening. One Week // One Band achieves something similar by inviting a different writer (sometimes a professional, sometimes not so much) to take over the blog for a seven-day deep dive into a musician they love, with “no rules and no canon” dictating who that musician can be. And then there was Hipster Runoff, the defunct but brilliant meta exploration of taste and identity that often delved into the ingredients of quality that we don’t like to talk about.
I think I ‘like’ them because they are differentiated from 'traditional music’ and 'modern indie music.’ When I listen to them, I exist on a higher plane of musical appreciation and consume products for 'all the right reasons.’
- Carles, the voice of Hipster Runoff, on Animal Collective
Quality shouldn’t be a Get Out of Bullying Your Co-Worker Free card. But after a lifetime of living with what is often considered bad taste, I’ve learned to be on the offensive just in case.
Try harder, fuckers.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
TCR Birthday Bash 2019: Day 7- Game Night
So this is probably going to get me either a lot of hate, thrown out of the fandom, or (best case scenario) requests for more. I’m honestly not sure which is worse (worst?) at this point. Either way please enjoy Cards Against Humanity: The Cat Returns Addition. Persephone is a TCR OC that belongs to @tcrmommabear & @sindysugar being used with their permissions.
At this point Hiromi has long since become a frequent visitor to the Bureau after following Haru one day. Meaning Hiromi while not quite as close to the others as Haru is, is still considered a friend. Also the humans are in their early 20s and knowing my friends and I when we get into the game, potty language. Which really should just be a warning for CAH in general.
Cards Against Humanity (for those that don’t know) is played with two types of cards: Black prompt cards and White (I call them) Reaction cards. A person draws a prompt card and the other players put down their reaction card(s) face down and then replace the number of cards they used. Prompt drawing player flips them over and selects the best reaction card of the round. Best reaction card(s) win the prompt card. Prompt cards use between 1-3 reaction cards.
- - - - - - - - - - -
To be fair, the entire thing was ENTIRELY Hiromi’s fault. Now that’s not to say that Haru didn’t love her best friend, because she did. She also knew EXACTLY what kind of humor Hiromi had. Mix that with a card game who’s box quite literally proclaims it to be “A horrible game for horrible people”. Yeah… It’s all Hiromi’s fault.
Hiromi drew a black prompt card. “’What’s making things awkward in the sauna?’ Ok folks hit me with your best shots.”
Louise puts down a card reading ‘A sales team of clowns and pedophiles.’
Muta chose to use ‘Scrotum tickling.’
Persephone gave it some thought before selecting ‘Cute Boys.’
Baron hesitated before putting down ‘MechaHitler.’
Haru slaps down ‘Full Frontal Nudity.’ with NO HESITATION.
Toto calmly places down ‘Fiery Poops.’
Hiromi reads all the reaction cards before declaring “A sales team of clowns and pedophiles is the winner. Who put that down cuz yeah that would make things awkward?”
Louise raises a hand while smirking. She accepts her prize before drawing a new prompt card, “’Only two things in life are certain: death and (blank).’ Oh my, there are so many ways that could be taken.”
Hiromi slapped down ‘The violation of our most basic human rights.’ as her card.
Muta, thinking of everything that happens regarding any of the groups antics, put down ‘Total fucking chaos.’
Persephone, not having very many good cards, selects ‘The male gaze.’
Baron, knowing how dramatic his sister is, chose ‘Dropping a chandelier on your enemies and riding the rope up.’ (winner)
Haru hemmed and hawed before putting down ‘Kamikaze pilots.’
Toto put down ‘Every ounce of charisma left in Mick Jagger’s tired body.’ hoping to get some laughs.
Louise read the cards out loud, cackling in between them, and said “’Dropping a chandelier on your enemies’ wins. So which one of you called me out like this?”
“I did sister dear, after all between the two of us this is exactly the kind of dramatics you would use.” Snorts echoed around the table, implying that Louise wasn’t the only over-the-top-Gikkingen around.
And so the game continued:
R3) Muta- (prompt) Listen, Gary, I like you. But if you want that corner office, you’re going to have to show me (blank).
Hiromi- Being a busy adult with many important things to do
Louise- Deez nuts
Persephone- Exactly what you’d expect
Baron- A constant need for validation
Haru- My worthless son
Toto- Meaningless sex
“Tough call but with how humans are ‘A constant need for validation.’ wins although ‘Meaningless sex.’ was close.” “Drat,” Toto declared while Baron took another card.
R4)Persephone- (prompt) Dear Sir or Madam, We regret in infom you that the Office of (blank) has denied your request for (blank).
Hiromi- Bill Nye the Science Guy & A gassy antelope
Louise- Republicans & Black People
Muta- Blackula & The shambling corpse of Larry King
Baron- Sean Penn & Tripping balls
Haru- AXE Body Spray & Being fabulous
Toto- Wifely duties & Consensual sex
“Seriously Louise? ‘Wifely duties.’ AND ‘Consensual sex.’ You know that combination wins.” “Sorry Love but that wasn’t mine.” “Nope it was mine.” “Well either way it was well played, well done Toto.”
“Looks like it’s time to pull out the ‘Most Horrible Person of the Night Award’.” “Hiromi, No!” “Hiromi YES!” “Hey! Why does Birdbrain get Doritos?!”
R5) Baron- (prompt) Well if (blank) is a crime, then lock me up!
Hiromi- The boners of the elderly
Louise- Eating together like a god damn family for once
Muta- The harsh light of day
Persephone- The Boy Scouts of America
Haru- Saying “I Love You”
Toto- The light of a billion suns
“I feel like I’m being called out right now. Who played ‘Saying “I Love You.”?” Baron asked with a very unamused look on his face.
“I did,” Haru replied straightfaced.
“You’re never going to let that go are you?”
“What do you think?”
Baron sighed before handing Haru the prompt card. It was better not to argue with her.
R6) Haru- (prompt) When I was tripping on acid, (blank) turned into (blank).
Hiromi- Sudden Poop Explosion Disease & Used panties
Louise- The economy & The sweet song of sword against sword and the braying of mighty war beasts
Muta- Expecting a burp and vomiting on the floor & Turning the rivers red with the blood of infidels (winner)
Persephone- Crazy opium eyes & Treasure beyond your wildest dreams
Baron- Natalie Portman & Angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night
Toto- A Ugandan warlord & Former President George W. Bush
“Really Muta? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: That’s disgusting.” “So are some of these reaction cards.”
R7) Toto- (prompt) Life for American Indians was forever changed when the White Man introduced them to (blank)
Hiromi- All my friends dying (winner)
Louise- Syphilitic insanity
Muta- How awesome it is to be white
Persephone- Indescribable loneliness
Baron- The Pope
Haru- The eighth graders
“Toto pass Hiromi the bag. Hiromi you’re terrible.” Hiromi just giggles naughtily.
R8) Hiromi- (prompt) (Blank): Brought to you by (blank).
Louise- Homeless people & Rich people
Muta- Mouth herpes & Going down on a woman, discovering that her vagina is filled with eyeballs, and being totally into that
Persephone- Santa Claus & Being rich
Baron- Shutting the fuck up & The Rev. Dr. Marin Luther King, Jr.
Haru- Getting caught by the police and going to jail & Going around punching people(winner)
Toto- Running out of semen & A mine having a stroke
“Sound about right.” “Oh and how would you know Turkey Leg? You don’t have any fists!” “Wouldn’t you like to know fatso.”
R9) Louise- (prompt) (Blank). Betcha can’t have just one!
Hiromi- Heartwarming orphans
Muta- Grammar nazis who are also regular Nazis
Persephone- Gwyneth Paltrow’s opinions
Baron- A sad handjob (winner)
Haru- Horrifying laser hair removal accidents
Toto- Emotions
“Is there something you want to confess brother dear?” “Not to you sister dear.”
R10) Muta- (prompt) This is the prime of my life. I’m young, hot, and full of (blank).
Hiromi- My dad’s dumb fucking face
Louise- Cancer
Persephone- Lunchables TM (winner)
Baron- YOU MUST CONSTRUCT ADDITIONAL PYLONS
Haru- The Hamburglar
Toto- Statistically validated stereotypes
“What? I’m hungry!”
R11) Persephone- (prompt) We never did find (blank), but along the way we sure learned a lot about (blank)
Hiromi- Blowjobs for everyone & Pac-Man uncontrollably guzzling cum (Hiromi)
Louise- What Jesus would do & The South
Muta- The white half of Barack Obama & A black-owned and operated business
Baron- God & A chimpanzee in sunglasses fucking your wife
Haru- Jobs & Western standards of beauty
Toto- Important news about Taylor Swift & Starting a shitty podcast
“HIROMI!” “AHH SAVE ME SOMEBODY!” (This was not the first time Hiromi used Pac-Man against Haru. Nor would it be the last.)
R12) Baron- In return for my soul, the Devil promised me (blank), but all I got was (blank).
Hiromi- Jesus & White people
Louise- Third base & Being fat and stupid
Muta- A subscription to Men’s Fitness & Pooping back and forth. Forever.
Persephone- Some shit-hot guitar licks & An ass disaster
Haru- Interspecies marriage & Necrophilia (winner)
Toto- The Blood of Christ & Adderall TM
“Guilty conscious Haru?” “I’M NOT A FURRY DAMNIT!”
R13) Haru- (prompt) You won’t believe what’s in my pussy. It’s (blank).
Hiromi- Daddy issues
Louise- The power of the Dark Side (winner)
Muta- A salty surprise
Persephone- Old-people smell
Baron- My collection of high-tech sex toys
Toto- How wet my pussy is.
“I hate you all.”
R14) Toto- (prompt) Money can’t buy me love, but it can buy me (blank)
Hiromi- The mere concept of Applebees TM
Louise- Sexual peeing
Muta- Authentic Mexican cuisine
Persephone- An asymmetric boob job (winner)
Baron- Helplessly gigling at the mention of Hutus and Tutsis
Haru- Switching to Geico®
R15) Hiromi- (prompt) (Blank) is a slippery slope that leads to (blank).
Louise- Blackface & Ripping open a man’s chest and pulling out his still-beating heart
Muta- Court-ordered rehab & Words, words, words.
Persephone- Same-sex ice dancing & Butt stuff
Baron- Establishing dominance & Stockholm Syndrome (winner)
Haru- Overpowering your father & Darth Vader
Toto- Copping a feel & A boo-boo
“Damn Baron, what are you into?” “I’m not! Why are you handing me these?” “Because you made shit go real dark, real quick boyo.”
R16) Louise- (prompt) My gym teacher got fired for adding (blank) to the obstacle course.
Hiromi- Walking into a glass door
Muta- Sperm whales
Persephone- Peeing a little bit
Baron- A face full of horse cum
Haru- Meatloaf, the man.
Toto- Warm, velvety muppet sex (winner)
“I think I need to give these back to you Toto.” “No no, you can still keep them.” (Cue unhappy Baron face.)
R17) Muta- What gets better with age?
Hiromi- Crippling debt
Louise- A Super Soaker TM full of cat pee (winner)
Persephone- Roland the Farter, flatulist to the king.
Baron- Yeast
Haru- The placenta
Toto- Nothing
“At least no one played ‘My genitals.’ this time.” “That can still change Haru~.”
R18) Persephone- (prompt) In his new action comedy, Jackie Chan must fend off ninja while also dealing with (blank).
Hiromi- Not having sex
Louise- Aaron Burr
Muta- Mixing M&Ms and Skittle like some kind of psychopath
Baron- The dentist
Haru- Samuel L. Jackson (winner)
Toto- Getting eaten alive by Guy Fieri
“To be fair, Ryan Renolds had a hard time dealing with Samuel L. Jackson in ‘The Hitman’s Bodyguard.’” “Still funny.”
R19) Baron- (prompt) Today on Maury: “Help! My son is (blank)!”
Hiromi- A woman
Louise- A monkey smoking a cigar (winner)
Muta- Teaching a robot to love
Persephone- Running naked through a mall, pissing and shitting everywhere
Haru- Such a big boy
Toto- Filling every orifice with butterscotch pudding
“What is ‘Maury’?” “An American TV show that mostly deals with people deliberately exposing themselves to lie detectors and paternity tests because they can’t stay in their lanes and be decent human beings.”
R20) Haru- (prompt) Heed my voice, mortals! I am the god of (blank), and I will not tolerate (blank)!Hiromi- Sunshine and rainbows & Incest
Louise- The profoundly handicapped & Throwing a virgin into a volcano
Muta- Sweet, sweet vengeance & Cheating in the Special Olympics
Persephone- Finger painting & The hiccups
Baron- Erectile dysfunction & Having a penis (winner) (game end)
Toto- Nickleback & Licking things to claim them as your own.
“That’s it, game over, Baron wins, Good night.” “Oh c’mon Haru.” “Nope! Can’t do it! Good night!”
- - - - - - - -
‘Most Horrible Person of the Night Award’ is an inside joke among my circle of RL friends that typically ends up being a bag of Doritos.
#the cat returns#cards against humanity#warning: bad language#tcr birthday bash#tcr birthday bash 2019#the cat returns fanfics#chezpez writes#TCR
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
please repost, don’t reblog
bold the traits that fit your muse
italicize the traits that fit sometimes or in certain verses
YOUR STEREOTYPICAL MASCULINE SIDE
you love hoodies. you love shorts. dogs are better than cats. it’s hilarious when people get hurt. shopping is torture. sad movies suck. you own a car racing game. you played with hot wheels cars as a kid. at some point in time you wanted to be a fire fighter. you owned a switch, ps4 or xbox1. you used to be obsessed with power rangers. you have watched sports on tv. gory movies are cool. you go to your dad for advice. you own like a trillion baseball caps. you used to collect hockey or baseball cards. baggy sweats are cool to wear. it’s kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people. green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favourite colours. you love to go crazy and not care what people think. sports are fun. you talk with food in your mouth. you sleep with your socks on at night. you have fished at least once.
YOUR STEREOTYPICAL FEMININE SIDE
you love to shop. you wear eyeliner. you wear the colour pink. you go to your mom to talk.you consider cheerleading a sport. you hate wearing the colour black. you like going to the mall. you like getting manicures and/or pedicures. you like wearing jewelry. you cried watching the notebook. dresses are a big part of your wardrobe. shopping is one of your favourite hobbies. you don’t like the movie star wars. you are/were in gymnastics. it takes you around one hour to shower, get dressed, and make-up. you smile a lot more than you should. you have more than 10 pairs of shoes. you care about what you look like. you like wearing dresses when you can. you like wearing high heel shoes. you used to play with dolls as little kid. you like putting makeup on others. you like being the star of everything.
APPEARANCE
i am shorter than 5’5”. i have scars. i tan easily. i wish my hair was a different colour. i have friends who have never seen my natural hair colour. i have a tattoo. i am self-conscious about my appearance. i’ve had/have braces. i’ve been told i’m attractive by a complete stranger.i have more than two piercings. i have/had piercings in places besides my ears.
EXPERIENCES
i’ve gotten lost in my city. i’ve seen a shooting star. i’ve wished on a shooting star. i’ve seen a meteor shower. i’ve gone out in public in my pajamas. i’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator. i’ve kicked a guy where it hurts. i’ve been to a casino. i’ve been skydiving. i’ve gone skinny-dipping. i’ve drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour. i’ve crashed a car. i’ve been skiing. i’ve been in a musical. i’ve caught a snowflake or snow on my tongue. i’ve seen the northern lights. i’ve sat on a rooftop at night. i’ve played a prank on someone. i’ve ridden in a taxi. i’ve seen the rocky horror picture show. i’ve eaten sushi. i’ve been snowboarding.
HONESTY/CRIME
i’ve done something i promised someone else i wouldn’t. i’ve done something i promised myself i wouldn’t. i’ve snuck out. i’ve lied to my parents about where i am.i’ve cheated while playing a game. i’ve ran a red light. i’ve witnessed a crime. i’ve been in a fist fight. i’ve been arrested.
DEATH AND SUICIDE
i’m afraid of dying. i hate funerals. i’ve seen someone/something dying. someone close to me has attempted/committed suicide. i’ve written a eulogy for myself.
RANDOM
i can sing well. stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant. i open up to others easily. i watch the news. i don’t kill bugs. i sing in the shower. i am a morning person. i paid for a cell phone ring tone. i am a sports fanatic. i twirl my hair. i care about grammar. i have “?”’s in my screen name. i’ve copied more than 30 cds in a day. i bake well. my favourite colour is either white, yellow, pink, red, blue, black, purple, or orange. i would wear pajamas to school. i like martha stewart. i know how to shoot a gun. i laugh at my own jokes. i eat fast food weekly. i’ve not turned anything in and still got an a in a certain class. i can’t sleep if there is a spider/cockroach in the room. i am ticklish. i love white chocolate. i bite my nails. i’m good at remembering faces. i’m good at remembering names. i’m good at remembering dates. i honestly have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my life.
Tagged by: @detective-g-reed (and a few others)
Tagging: @raakxbecomedeviant @forensic-boi @chenyounot @deadpannedmodelrk200 @detroitstokenasshole @gophckyourself @phcking-prick-dbh @ask-cain-rk1k @turquoise-rope @theveryfirst @adelaidepomegranate @detective-phxcker @strakh @detroitdetectivereed [And anyone else who wants to do this!:)]
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
💀 CHAOS BOY HEADCANONS 💀
your stereotypical masculine side
you love hoodies. you love shorts. you love jeans. dogs are better than cats. it’s hilarious when people get hurt. shopping is torture. sad movies suck. you own a car racing game. you played with hot wheels cars as a kid. at some point in time you wanted to be a firefighter. you owned a ds, ps2, n64, or sega. you used to be obsessed with power rangers. you have watched sports on tv. gory movies are cool. you go to your dad for advice. you own like a trillion baseball caps. you used to collect hockey cards. baggy sweats are cool to wear. it’s kinda weird to have sleepovers with a bunch of people. green, black, red, blue, or silver are one of your favorite colors. you love to go crazy and not care what people think. sports are fun. you talk with food in your mouth. you sleep with your socks on at night. you have fished at least once.
your stereotypical feminine side
you love to shop. you wear eyeliner. you wear the color pink. you go to your mom to talk. you consider cheerleading a sport. you hate wearing the color black. you like going to the mall. you like getting manicures and/or pedicures. you like wearing jewelry. you cried watching the notebook. dresses are a big part of your wardrobe. shopping is one of your favorite hobbies. you don’t like the movie star wars. you are/were in gymnastics. it takes you around one hour to shower, get dressed, and make-up. you smile a lot more than you should. you have more than 10 pairs of shoes. you care about what you look like. you like wearing dresses when you can. you like wearing high heel shoes. you used to play with dolls as little kid. you like putting make-up on others. you like being the star of everything.
appearance
i am shorter than 5′5″. i have many scars. i tan easily. i wish my hair was a different color. i have friends who have never seen my natural hair color. i have a tattoo. i am self-conscious about my appearance. i’ve had/have braces. i’ve been told i’m attractive by a complete stranger. i have more than two piercings. i have/had piercings in places besides my ears.
experiences
i’ve gotten lost in my city. i’ve seen a shooting star. i’ve wished on a shooting star. i’ve seen a meteor shower. i’ve gone out in public in my pajamas. i’ve pushed all the buttons on an elevator. i’ve kicked a guy where it hurts. i’ve been to a casino. i’ve been skydiving. i’ve gone skinny-dipping. i’ve drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour .i’ve crashed a car. i’ve been skiing. i’ve been in a musical. i’ve caught a snowflake or snow on my tongue. i’ve seen the northern lights. i’ve sat on a rooftop at night. i’ve played a prank on someone. i’ve ridden in a taxi. i’ve seen the rocky horror picture show. i’ve eaten sushi. i’ve been snowboarding.
relationships
i’m single. i’m in a relationship. i’m engaged. i’m married. it’s complicated. i miss someone right now. i’ve gotten divorced. i’ve told someone i loved them when i didn’t. i’ve told someone i didn’t love them when i did.
honesty/crime
i’ve done something i promised someone else i wouldn’t. i’ve done something i promised myself i wouldn’t. i’ve snuck out i’ve lied to my parents about where i am. i’ve cheated while playing a game. i’ve ran a red light. i’ve witnessed a crime. i’ve been in a fist fight. i’ve been arrested.
death and suicide
i’m afraid of dying. i hate funerals. i’ve seen someone/something dying. someone close to me has attempted/committed suicide. i’ve planned my own suicide before. i’ve written a eulogy for myself.
random
i can sing well. stolen a tray from a fast food restaurant. i open up to others easily. i watch the news. i don’t kill bugs. i sing in the shower. i am a morning person. i paid for a cell phone ring tone. i am a sports fanatic. i twirl my hair. i care about grammar. i have “?”’s in my screen name. i’ve copied more than 30 cd’s in a day. i bake well. my favorite color is either white, yellow, pink, red, blue, black, purple, or orange. i would wear pajamas to school. i like martha stewart. i know how to shoot a gun. i laugh at my own jokes. cause they’re funny. i eat fast food weekly. i’ve not turned anything in and still got an a in a certain class. i can’t sleep if there is a spider/cockroach in the room. i am ticklish. i love white chocolate. i bite my nails. i’m good at remembering faces. i’m good at remembering names. i’m good at remembering dates. i honestly have no idea what i want to do for the rest of my life.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just a Game?
A Bakudeku one-shot. These boys need to heal, forgive, and grow.
Katsuki Bakugou was never in the mood for games, but Kirishima weaseled him into the circle of teenage guys seated within the UA dorm homeroom. Iida, Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero, Mineta, and Midoriya were in a crooked circle around a freshly opened box of cards.
From what Bakugou understood, this was a new and wildly popular upgrade to the infamous “Truth Or Dare”. Each card had a random dare or question, which had either one or three options corresponding to the way the player answered with points awarded with each option. Skipping a question or dare resulted in a deduction of points. There were 6 rounds and the player with the most points won, with a few exceptions Bakugou didn't care to pay attention to.
Bakugou already felt his competitive nature swelling up.
“I think… the girls really would have wanted to play this game!” Everyone collectively glared at Mineta’s whining scheme.
“Yeah, well they didn't ya little perv!” Bakugo snapped.
“I'm surprised you're playing, Kacchan.” Izuku muttered, gluing his green eyes to the carpet.
“Pah,” his fist clenched, “Dumbass got me to,” He nodded to Kirishima, who gave him a bright and sharp grin.
“Let's do our best!” Iida crowed with his usual sharp arm movements, “No cheating, and nothing inappropriate!”
“You're just taking all the fun out of it,” Sero grinned, shuffling the stack of cards and setting them flat in the circle.
“I'll go first,” Kirishima scooted forward and drew the top card.
So began their heightened game of truth or dare, Midoriya quickly made a ledger to track scores. The usual petty dares and questions of “Your first crush?” and at some point Sero had his arm hair shaved off and Mineta was crying from the hot sauce he drank. Kirishima had himself braced against the wall for a five-minute handstand.
Bakugou had been lucky since he only had pulled Truths, and one simple dare of holding his breath for as long as he could.
But his insides twisted with shock and sudden anger when he read the content of the dare on the card.
Kiss the person in front of you (both get the points)
Hand (5 points)
Cheek (10 points)
Lips (30 points)
30 points could almost guarantee him a win, but on the other hand, the person he would have to kiss was Izuku Midoriya.
His silence and flush on his cheeks spelled an immediate curiosity from the other guys. Iida adjusted his glasses, “Well, Bakugou, what did you get?”
But the explosive teen ignored him and instead fixed his eyes on Midoriya, who suppressed a flinch from his crimson eyes. He said nothing, sliding the card across the floor to the timid, green haired boy.
Izuku watched Kacchan give the card wordlessly to him. His head tilted and he gave it a glance, only to have his entire face turn bright red. Bakugou hardly blinked as he watched Izuku, when their gazes locked he shrugged, ever so slightly, hands smoking and tightening into fists.
Izuku was pretty behind in points… his timid nature rejected the personal questions the others boasted up to. 30 points would help, but he'd still kiss Kacchan.
He hadn't kissed anyone before.
“Fuck it, you don't wanna? Don't do it,” Kacchan groused and folded his bare arms and glanced away.
“Uh,” Kaminari looked between them, “What uh, what does it say?”
Apparently Iida peaked over his shoulder, because he shouted, “BAKUGOU! ABSOLUTELY NOT, IF MIDORYIA--”
“Tenya!” Izuku hushed him, “I-It’s a game… a-a game,” he was still flushed and he looked at the ground, “It's fine.”
Bakugou snorted and leaned across the small circle, Izuku was the only one who could see past his outward display of confidence, the quiver of his eyes avoiding his own as he neared him. Bakugou cupped Izuku’s face with a rough and warm hand, steadying the swaying the smaller teen felt.
It was brief, the touching of their lips and Izuku's hand pressing slightly to Bakugou’s chest, to feel the same raging heartbeat as his own. The blond pulled back and for a second Izuku saw a flicker of vulnerability, surprise, even shyness to match the blush on his cheeks.
Stunned silence followed until Mineta let out a keening wail to go along with the gray tone his face had taken.
“Damn nerd,” Bakugou made a show of wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and hissing through his teeth, “Better add those 30 points!” He grinned and allowed his shouldering confidence to return.
“30 POINTS?!” Kirishima yelled, none of the other dares or questions exceeded 15 points.
“Uh hah,” Bakugou smirked, crossing his arms to try and calm his raging heart.
His lips were so soft.
Izuku tired to brush off the sudden and embarrassing moment by jotting down the additional points for both of them. Iida seemed highly suspicious and kept an eye on his small friend. Iida was practically shaking.
“Midoriya, if he did that against your will I’ll--”
“What, four eyes?!” Bakugou let out a wicked grin, “He let me and we got the points, let it drop!” The ragged edge of his tone set aside the tint of emotion he clearly held from the action.
Kirishima tried not to giggle and pulled up another card to continue on, dropping the subject for the moment.
Bakugou’s eyes kept getting drawn back to Midoriya like a magnet, the latter’s feet were tracing circles on the floor through the pair of worn socks. He seemed just as distant as the blond in front of him.
In the end, Bakugou did win. But he didn't stay long, stalking off to his room with explosions barely containing themselves in his sweaty palms. The door to his room slammed shut.
Bakugo smelled his pillow burning from his hands gripping it ferociously. His grip eased up and he let out a muffled yell. Damn this feeling, damn Deku, damn that game for bringing up what he didn't want to acknowledge.
In his moments of introspective thoughts -- which were rare, but becoming more frequent -- he found that he felt something... something for Deku. A feeling he'd smothered since childhood with all the force he could muster.
Smothered in ways that only harmed him and Izuku.
The soft hair, warm and wide eyes, and endless kindness with so much passion for good. Deku wormed his way into his fiery and vengeful heart, and now he felt sick with the guilt rolling through his gut. The words he said, the blows he had thrown towards the helpless guy. Bakugou wanted to burn away the self loathing and fear that haunted him, to keep existing in his own manner, but he couldn’t.
He couldn’t muster control over what he felt, especially after the fight they had all those months ago. The feelings and the adoration that still rained on him from Deku, after the horrible things he had done and said… Bakugou knew he didn’t deserve it. So he clutched his chest and sat up on the bed, pausing long enough to wipe the brimming tear from his eye.
“Fuck it,” he snarled and stood up.
Bakugou slipped down the halls of the 1-A dormitory, he had no intention of running into a teacher or any of his other classmates. His stealth ended when he found himself at Deku’s room.
Izuku Midoriya
Three heavy knocks.
“Eh, Deku!”
A surprised thud from inside.
“K-Kacchan?”
“Let me in,” he clenched his fist, “damn nerd,” he hissed under his breath.
The door cracked open and Izuku stared at him with a shy resolve, his brows were furrowed and his mended hand gripped white at his side. Bakugou found himself unable to spit out an insult, only shouldering his way through.
Izuku shut the door and watched Bakugou give almost judging glances at the All Might posters plastered around the dorm room.
“Kacchan,” his voice was deeper and more mature than Katsuki remembered, he wasn't who he was before.
“Why are you here?”
“Why do you think, fuckmunch?”
Deku lowered his eyes and his cheeks flushed, “It was just a game, for points. It wouldn't be any different if-if it had been Kirishima.”
Bakugou’s fists clenched even tighter than they already were.
“Then why was it different, Deku? Eh?!” He rounded on the green-haired boy.
Izuku searched for an answer with wild eyes.
“You…” he gulped and croaked out the words, “You liked it?”
He was already bracing before the explosions sparked into the air around the room, a lot stronger than usual since he was sweating.
“Why the fuck would I like it?” Bakugou loathed the way his voice gave, the wide look in his crimson eyes.
“I don't know,” Izuku muttered.
“Don't look at me with those eyes!” Bakugou roared.
Now anger crossed Midoriya’s gentle face, any quiver of reluctance and timidity faded.
“Kacchan, it was just a game!” His voice rose.
Bakugou cringed.
“No… no, it wasn't.” The blond shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants, blushing profusely. “Why didn't you say no? I wouldn't be feeling like this fuckin’ shit if you had!”
Izuku scoffed.
“You were the one who asked…”
Both boys were now bright red and almost panicking, skirting around the answer neither of them wanted to go at.
They kinda liked it.
“Fuck you, Deku.” He wheeled around to leave and just try and put that little warm kiss far behind him.
But then Deku grabbed his wrist.
“No, Kacchan don't run from this. You'll only be more of a shithead.”
“Say that again to my face you shitty nerd,” Bakugou squared up and realized in a flash of panic that his anger had brought him nose to nose with Izuku.
And Izuku didn't flinch, only stared at him with vivid eyes that seemed to mirror a warm summer field of swaying green grass. Their breath mingled for the second time that night, Bakugou couldn't help but glance down at Izuku’s lips. They were so close again.
But the blond jerked away and swore, shoulders arching and tense with fury, “Did you… like it at all?”
Izuku’s face went lax in shock, eyes zoning out. He couldn't blurt out that the moment had been replaying in his head for the past hour, the roughness and odd gentleness Bakugou showed him. Those fleeting looks of shyness he showed were replaced by his stereotypical coping mechanism: anger.
He rubbed the back of his head and tried to laugh to soften the blow of his answer.
“I uh… I-I didn't not like it.”
Bakugou cringed, but not for the reason Izuku initially thought.
“How… how could you like that?”
Izuku tilted his head.
“What?”
“I treated…” he gulped and Izuku realized this was the first time he'd ever seen Kacchan show guilt of any type
“I treat you like shit.”
The words tumbled out and the problem lay out open on the floor, in view, where Katsuki had never acknowledged it.
“I will still fucking beat you and become number one, you shit! I'm not taking that back!”
“I know, Kacchan,” he breathed.
“But you're the next goddamn All Might, so how much of a fucking chance do I have? You're always looking down on me,”
“Kacchan, you know that isn't true. I've told you… I've told you how amazing I think you are,” a tint on his cheeks flourished again, and he couldn't manage to maintain eye contact with Bakugou’s fiery gaze.
Katsuki put a hand over his chest and hissed through his teeth, clenching the fabric of his tank top.
“How the… hell do you do that?!”
“Do what?”
“Make me feel like I'm falling off a damn building!”
A surprised little chuckle slipped past Izuku’s lips.
“This is a mess,” he ran his fingers through the emerald curls on his head.
Katsuki released a rather aggressive growl and his pocket was smoking where his hands were.
“It wouldn't be such a problem if you weren't so nice,” he said it as if it was an insult.
Izuku huffed and gave him a stern glare.
“It's hardly my fault when you're such an asshole.”
Bakugou gaped and a tendril of smoke came off his body.
“You little…”
Izuku’s tense halted the anger, dispelling it like smoke in a breeze.
Soft, warmth, kindness, and the little trembling hand on his chest.
Izuku Midoriya was all of those things, and had the heart of a better hero than he ever could be. That just left him as the villain.
Maybe that's why he hated him just as much as he adored him.
Bakugou swayed back and let out an irritated groan.
Fuck.
His eyes were stinging.
His heart was galloping, and his stomach was in complete knots. Not to mention he could blow the entire dorm away with the sweat in his palms.
Trembling shoulders lost their tense posture and sagged, his eyes were damp.
“I fucking hurt you.”
“I know,” Izuku breathed, looking at him with those same wide and compassionate eyes that infuriated him.
Deku, the Hero.
Bakugou, the villain who wounded him.
“I'm just a villain to you,”
He dared look at Izuku when he said that, expecting a dark and solemn nod. Only to find green eyes filled to the brim with tears.
“No, Kacchan. You aren't… not to me.”
Izuku’s tender and reluctant hand on his cheek caused the tears to spill over.
“Damn nerd, making me so fucking weak.”
“Kacchan… it's-it's okay… it's okay to feel.”
There wasn't much space between them, Bakugou found himself leaning into the gentle touch. His mother wasn't a cuddler, nor was his father.
It's okay to feel.
They stood in silence for a few minutes as their minds raged with thoughts and feelings. Bakugou exhaled and closed his eyes. Deku should be his enemy, not his…
“Oi, Deku. If I hurt you again, fuckin punch me. Okay?” Bakugou ground out through grit teeth.
“A-Are you apologizing?!”
“... maybe. I swear to god if you tell any--”
Deku leaned up and kissed his heated cheek.
“Aah!” Bakugou snarled, putting his fingers under the smaller’s chin, “Deku if you're gonna kiss me, kiss me right at least.”
Then he leaned down and kissed Izuku, moving his hand to cup the soft and freckled face of the blushing young man. This wasn't a dare, nor was it a game, so their lips melded together and moved timidly. Bakugou quickly showed his dominance, raking his fingers through Izuku’s downy hair.
They pulled apart and Izuku was breathing quick, eyes wide. Bakugou touched foreheads with him, eyes gleaming and he bit his lip wickedly.
“You're kinda cute, Deku.”
“K-Kacchan!” He squeaked and covered his face with his hands, “I-I kissed you! A-and that means you were my first kiss and you apologized? B-But-but that's so unlike you how--”
Bakugou deadpanned as Izuku kept muttering and trying to reason how he and his former bully were standing in his room, kissing.
“Oi,” he snapped.
Izuku stopped his cloud of words.
“It's not like we're datin’...” Bakugou grunted, then flushed.
He'd not want to come out to his mother, she'd be way too smug that she was right. But she'd always liked little Midoriya, since he was so opposite of her own hotheaded son.
If Deku did want to change the title of their relationship… Kacchan wouldn't be completely against it.
Archive of Our Own
35 notes
·
View notes
Photo
☆ // SUBJECT: THE EARP HOMESTEAD. LOCATION: PURGATORY, COLORADO
a collection of research exploring the idea, that if not for wynonna earp’s low budget and physical filming location, purgatory and its key landmarks should have been based in the united states, around the colorado river specifically. !important: earp roleplayers are more than welcome to also adopt this divergence if they agree with it, and may 100% feel free to REBLOG this post. please remember when interacting with my character, in all verses, that they are from purgatory, colorado, and not from canada. if after reading this, you feel bothered, please let me know and we can absolutely follow writers’ show canon in our threads!!
☆ // WARNING!!
this divergence is strongly opinionated. the writers of the show have confirmed the plot setting for the television series wynonna earp, is in fact located in alberta, canada. i am 100% aware that alberta is absolute show canon. however, as a roleplayer, creative writer, and western fanatic, i can neither ignore, nor let wyatt earp and doc holliday’s history get completely washed away for the sake of filming convenience. make no mistake. i love the show, the storyline, and i love the characters immensely; but because of both the comic book series, and nonfictional history, their story’s location does not make any sense to me or add up at all.
☆ // PART I. WYATT’S JOURNEY.
first, let’s begin with wyatt earp’s original routes and a few historical events. i’ve taken the time, and mapped wyatt and doc holliday’s trail out below in order. they were obviously riding on horseback and taking ferries or trains, so they wouldn’t have been using main roads or highways ( although busy trails later became paved highways and roads throughout america ). at only one point does wyatt travel through canada and it is during his two, long journeys to alaska. as you can see below, he really goes nowhere near alberta or calgary on his way to his next stop, seattle, washington.
it would make way more sense for purgatory to be located somewhere in the united states, in one of the towns wyatt earp lived or stayed in for a prolonged period of time. not to mention the old west is well... united states history, and all notable events regarding the old west happened in the states. the original 1993 wynonna earp comics even pay homage to places like tombstone ( and can i mention when the t.v series says they’re loosely based on the comics, they are hardly anything like them? like barely even remotely? ). it mentions white trash and trailer parks, hill billys, pabst blue ribbon, you name every southern stereotype, and they cover it. no surprise, it is based in america.
“ two u.s. marshals and a sheriff lie dead in san diablo, new mexico. when marshal wynonna earp hits the trail to bring the killers to justice, she uncovers connections to a devastating new drug...and a pack of redneck vampires! modern firepower and frontier justice --that's wynonna. “ wynonna earp, comic issue #1, summary.
but that’s totally besides the point, and another post probably worth making entirely. let’s get back to the real wyatt earp and docs holliday’s actual history. below are some maps, and i’ve linked bigger versions so they’re easier for y’all to see.
larger map images for reference: a, b, c.
exhibit one: map a. ↳ this displays his route from dodge city in 1875, up until his last ride to los angeles where he would also die in 1923. this map is all prior to docs death specifically, which is extremely important. why? because doc had obvious connections to both constance clootie and bulshar. this has become even even more so evident in season 3. wyatt earp did not travel through canada until after docs actual death. this alone raises a red flag as someone who thinks placing purgatory in canada was an easy cop-out by show writers, and as someone who often ponders plot holes in the show’s storyline.
another point i have to to stress, is that a majority of wyatt earp’s time with doc holliday throughout life was spent in the southwestern united states. their stomping grounds are where a majority of the route lines cross on the map, and they traveled between each of those cities, owning saloons, gambling, hunting outlaws, etc.. countless times. i’ll have more to add about this later under section iii, which heavily regards the revenants.
exhibit two: map b. ↳ map b is probably the most important of all three. it depicts what his ride would have looked like from wrangell, ak to nome, and then from wrangell, ak to seattle, wa. google maps actually wouldn’t let me map the whole thing through from idaho and washington to alaska, because fun fact, you have to fly and take ferries to get around from the usa to those alaskan towns. phew, can you imagine wyatt’s adventure to alaska on horseback and water?? his wife actually tried to stop him from making the journey because she was pregnant at the time, but of course, he saw an opportunity for wealth and didn’t listen.
alberta is a far stretch out of the way. he would have had to go over or around the canadian rockies, and since he was traveling to and from alaska from either washington state and/or idaho with a clear destination in mind, it would make no logical sense whatsoever. the red triangle, accurately labeled show’s location wtf?? is where the show’s canon ghost river triangle is located. i know what you’re probably thinking, they never say it straight up in the series, but writer’s confirmation aside, upon researching there is one particular episode which gave us show purgatory’s exact location right away. here is a picture of waverly in s01e03, with a map of purgatory. . . and here is another .... and now here is an actual, real map which indisputably matches waverly’s layout. note: those are not my screencaps, you can find the original post i got them from here !!
exhibit three: map c. ↳ vildal, california is where he built his home in 1911. the earps bought a small cottage in vidal, the only home they ever owned. beginning in 1911 and until Wyatt's health began to fail in 1928, Wyatt and sadie earp summered in Los Angeles and spent the rest of the year in the desert working their claims. The "happy days" mine was located in the whipple mountains a few miles north of vidal. wyatt had some modest success with the happy days gold mine, and they lived on the slim proceeds of income from that and oil wells. ( source: wikipedia. )
so, my question is likely the biggest plot hole in the whole freaking television series. how the heck did wyatt’s family homestead end up all the way near calgary, alberta, canada?? the show writers ignore this entirely and uses an insane amount of liberties. wyatt never had any children to begin with, but if one wants to paint the picture of family, love, loyalty, and closeness as they do on the show, i would think that the earps would have remained somewhere closer to wyatt’s grave. at the very least in the same country.
the other major thing to take into consideration, is that by the time map b and map c were traveled, real doc holliday was also dead and no longer amongst the living. i bet your thinking, ❝ okay so maybe vidal, california would have been an alright place for the show to take place, since that was wyatt’s actual only home. ❞ and i totally agree, but the more i thought about making this wynonna’s hometown and ground zero for the homestead, the harder i could picture the gang there. problem is, the landscape is nothing but desert. it’s hot and arrid. in vidal there are there are no prairie winds, or great plains, or chinook rocky mountain sunsets. on the show we see mountains, rivers, forests, and more importantly, large amounts of snow.
this leads the divergence trail back to none other than the myth, the man, and the legend, doc holliday. let’s dive a little more into his relationship with wyatt in the next section.
☆ // PART II. DOC AND WYATT.
how wyatt and doc met in history & the show. ↳ earp had run two cowboys out of wichita earlier in 1878. during the summer, the two cowboys—accompanied by another two dozen men—rode into dodge and shot up the town while galloping down front street. they entered the long branch saloon, vandalized the room, and harassed the customers. hearing the commotion, earp burst through the front door, and before he could react, a large number of cowboys were pointing their guns at him.
in another version, there were only three to five cowboys. in both stories, holliday was playing cards in the back of the room and upon seeing the commotion, drew his weapon and put his pistol at morrison's head, forcing him and his men to disarm, rescuing earp from a bad situation. no account of any such confrontation was reported by any of the dodge city newspapers at the time. whatever actually happened, earp credited holliday with saving his life that day, and the two men became friends.
how wyatt and doc actually parted ways in history. ↳ according to a letter written by former new mexico territory governor miguel otero, wyatt and holliday were eating at fat charlie's the retreat restaurant in albuquerque, "when holliday said something about earp becoming 'a damn jew-boy.' earp became angry and left…." holliday and dan tipton arrived in pueblo, colorado in late april 1882. ( source: wikipedia. )
doc’s death in real history. ↳ in 1887, prematurely gray and badly ailing, holliday made his way to the hotel glenwood, near the hot springs of glenwood springs, colorado. he hoped to take advantage of the reputed curative power of the waters, but the sulfurous fumes from the spring may have done his lungs more harm than good. as he lay dying, holliday is reported to have asked the nurse attending him for a shot of whiskey. when she told him no, he looked at his bootless feet, amused. the nurses said that his last words were, "this is funny.” holliday died at 10am on november 8, 1887. he was 36.
wyatt visited sick doc before he died. ↳ wyatt heard of doc’s death shortly after he had died. he was close by in aspen, colorado at the time, and it’s thought that he may have visited doc before his death. josephine earp told a story about sitting beside doc’s deathbed, but it’s thought that she may have confused this with another occasion ( because of old age ). she additionally gave an account of doc and wyatt’s last meeting in the lobby of a denver hotel. both men were quite upset and josie said that wyatt cried afterwards. there’s also a story that doc’s gun was also sent to wyatt although again not a lot of evidence to prove whether or not it’s true.
wynonna earp flashbacks. ↳ in s01e03, wyatt visited his bedside, where doc is very ill and lying down in a tent. it’s implied doc was resting, wyatt packed up his things for him, and dispite his sickness, earp keeps urging him to ride with him to purgatory. doc rejects knowing he can’t and says goodbye. this is likely right before he seeks out constance clootie for immortality, in whatever town they were in. there is no viable way his transformation could have happened in purgatory, because the church in wynonna’s vision quest later on was somewhere on the outskirts of town.
on the series, doc holliday had already come across constance clootie, and gained his immortality before the best friends had their argument and wyatt disowned him for becoming something of the devil’s work. wyatt also finally admits to his family being cursed. doc was also as equally heartbroken about wyatt’s opinion of his choice, and throughout the series, we see how deeply he considers and takes an earp’s opinion to heart. despite being set in modern years, and appended romantic aspects aside, his relationship with wynonna mirrors that of his and wyatts.
consider that wyatt already killed constance clootie’s sons, and bulshar clootie is the man he was fixed on punishing for cursing him. it’s entirely plausible doc followed closely behind wyatt’s tail after being shunned, and that wherever wyatt was going was only a few days ride from doc’s staying place. the witch clootie admitted she turned doc ageless to hurt wyatt and succeeded, but we also know that where blushar goes, clootie is looking for vengeance. it’s conceivable to theorize certain suspicions such as, but not limited to; doc wanting take back his immortality due to wyatt’s rejection, and in turn while meeting clootie, got tossed with the final seal into the well.
the “earp well” lol. ↳ we know doc winds up in a well , but it’s location seems to appear elsewhere from it’s original place on the earp property in season one’s pilot episode, to somewhere in a random forest, in s02ep08. the earp property is said by wynonna to be only 10 acres ( 0.125 sq miles ). for a farm where you have to drive to get from point a to point b, this is not very large or inaccurate. all shots of the property are also mainly rolling farmland with no large forest vegetation resembling that of the well’s site. i’m going to chalk this discrepancy up to this scene having been in the pilot, having a low budget and limited choices for pilot filming location.
doc’s well was never on the actual earp property like some probably assume at first glance, but instead, somewhere else entirely. just go on ahead and re-watch. after retrieving peacemaker and talking to dolls, wynonna drives up to the purgatory town line, truck facing towards the town. it makes for a clear ( or not so clear ) clue hinting the well’s whereabouts. in s2ep08, juan carlo takes wynonna outside of purgatory to the outskirts for her vision quest. the well is clearly located in that area and tied heavily to the flashback in the church. from a teen wynonna was a drifter. she could have stashed the gun in an abandoned well anywhere, somewhere safe, and no where too close to the homestead. but here is another thought, doc and wynonna’s fates were entwined, so who knows? maybe she felt specifically drawn to that area and frequented there to clear her head when she was younger. merely a concept.
finally, bobos imprisonment in the well further proves it’s located elsewhere, since revenants can't step foot on earp land without being burned. this gives us some room to play for setting up wynonna earp’s story in colorado.
tying history and flashbacks together. ↳ this is where it gets complicated, where it’s hard to put things into words, and where my divergence really starts, because the show canon entirely ignores actual history when it comes to the true separation and deaths of both of these men. we have no clue as to the location in either of these flashbacks on the show, but we do see wyatt is wearing a jacket and scarf. it’s apparently cold outside so there’s at least that to work with. the state of colorado has cold winters, which also works in this divergence’s favor.
if the real doc holliday died in glenn springs, colorado, and the real wyatt earp was in aspen, colorado around the time of his death, we could place purgatory somewhere in that area. doc faked his death on the series, between the time he decided he would became immortal, and the time he was thrown in the well shortly after. sewing these realities together puts purgatory in colorado. doc’s death would make the location default. in regards to the comic taking place in the deserts of the united states, this divergence will also have that covered later on.
the canadian show takes an extreme with creative freedoms and gives no resolution whatsoever as to how wyatt earp somehow settled down in alberta, candada ( did they even do their fact checking?? ) or how every family member has lived there ever since. the actual wyatt earp had no children, and his home was and will always historically be in vidal, california.
so, let’s make this more believable. what if in another universe that isn’t real history, but makes a hell of a lot more sense when unified with the show’s, wyatt earp made a home in colorado after bulshar was buried? not only close to where is thought to be his best friends grave, but where he can keep an eye on, and protect, bulshar’s remains until he dies? bobo moved him, but where were they prior? on the show wyatt is also said to have been partially involved in entombing bulshar’s body. therefore, this explanation would make 100% total sense as to why wyatt and his wife never made it to vidal, california. his life’s journey would have been stopped dead in its tracks, so he could keep the demon who cursed his family from the widows, and make sure bulshar never returned. one could claim, in a historically based, fictional western series, that wyatt earp built a ranch because of this, and settled down with his wife in a town called purgatory, colorado.
☆ // PART III. WYATT’S CURSE, THE REVS, & THE GHOST RIVER TRIANGLE.
wyatt earp’s curse. ↳ the earp curse makes all people that wyatt earp had killed in his lifetime resurrect over and over again. those revenants can only be killed by the peacemaker which only the current heir can use. wait a minute. wynonna voice: say whaaaat?? wyatt never killed multiple people in canada. at any point in history. how would the 77 people he killed even get to canada if revenants can’t leave the ghost river triangle in the first place?? can you say, major woops? this is personally my favorite fudge up.
the ghost river triangle. ↳ the ghost river triangle is an area of cursed land, partially framed by the splitting of the ghost river into two, that imprisons the resurrected outlaws killed by wyatt earp. should a revenant cross the boundary line, they experience hell on earth. to quote waverly, in leavin' on your mind: '...everything from the mountains to where the north and south ghost rivers meet, forms the ghost river triangle. it cuts through the big city, contains thousands of square miles of forest, foothills, prairie, the badlands. and all of it...cursed.'
forest, foothills, prairie, and badlands? yeah, if we want to place divergent purgatory somewhere in the united states to make the show a little more historically accurate, the ghost river triangle definitely parallels to none other than the colorado river. the colorado river runs through colorado, utah, arizona, nevada, california, and all the way down to mexico. at least three of those states were in fact, wyatt’s stomping grounds before and after his historically recorded vendetta ride.
not to go with some total, mythical, movie cliche here, but in an alternative wynonna world set in the united states, the ghost river triangle could have also been named by the native americans who inhabited the land along the colorado river. factually, many parts of the colorado river are actually suspected to be haunted. let’s not get too carried away, though. alberta canada is in fact home of a real place called the ghost river valley, and there’s totally no disputing that.
wyatt’s vendetta ride ↳ in history the vendetta ride was a deadly search, where wyatt lead a federal posse for outlaw cowboys they believed had ambushed, and maimed virgil earp and killed morgan earp. the earp brothers had been attacked in retaliation for the deaths of three cowboys in the gunfight at the o.k. corral on october 26, 1881. from march 20 to april 15, 1882, the federal posse searched southeast cochise county, arizona territory for suspects in both virgil's and morgan's attacks. several suspects had been freed by the court, owing in some cases to legal technicalities and in others to the strength of alibis provided by cowboy confederates. up to this point, wyatt had relied on the legal system to bring the cowboys to justice. now he felt he had to take matters into his own hands.
i could be wrong, but i have a feeling the chase for bulshar is loosely based on this part of wyatt earp’s history. the parallel of his two own brothers dying, and two of clootie’s sons dying, is a little thought provoking, no? coincidental even? an eye for an eye, perhaps? there is a lot of wyatt’s history left to be uncovered and explored, and that’s if the show writers even decide to reveal anything else at all. on the show, wyatt got innocent people killed, there was one hell of a lot of collateral damage surrounding him.
i feel 100% comfortable standing firmly by the headcanon that after wyatt was cursed and his brothers were killed, that he went on a tear after bulshar and destroyed anyone who got in his way. this is important, because these events could be tied to his life in tombstone, arizona, and the events which took place in and after the shootout at the OK corral. if he was cursed in tombstone, then there is no way around it, one of the ghost river triangle’s points would have to begin there.
the revmap, i mean . . . revamp. ↳ below is a map which bases a divergent ghost river triangle heavily off of history. it takes into consideration doc holliday and wyatt earp’s routes, where doc’s last known whereabouts were, where wyatt would have killed the most men, and finally, his vendetta ride. in total the divergent river triangle’s perimeter is about 2,500 miles and takes 36 hours nonstop to drive. in contrast, the show’s ghost river triangle is 617 miles and takes about only an easy 12 hours to drive from point to point. purgatory is west of denver, and the homestead is about where the house icon is. ( larger image version is here. )
yeah okay, so the size may be of some issue, but vastness aside, there are three things this triangle does have, that the other doesn’t. firstly, historical accuracy. it includes nearly all of the areas where a number of wyatt’s targets made their peace. if we tie back to wyatt’s vendetta ride and the whole paralleling idea for a moment, many of the revenants who rode with bulshar would've died in various areas of colorado and the purgatory area. secondly, the terrain might aid with narrowing revenant whereabouts down. deserts and mountains surround a majority of these iconic towns. and lastly another argument can be made that because some revenants do want to end the earp line, few might've simply migrated to colorado and placed themselves somewhere closer within wynonna’s line of fire.
i could continue ridiculously blabbering on and on about why i chose this location divergence for my character. everything from climate, to terrain, and how there are salt flats in utah nearby, or my really strong distaste for how the show writers erased wyatt earp and doc holliday’s real history, but in honesty i think everything i’ve covered above nicely sums up my research and premise. anywhooo, that’s all for now folks, hope you enjoyed the read!
#- ̗̀ ♤ // — V: MAIN. » ̖́-#- ̗̀ ♤ // — V: CANON. » ̖́-#- ̗̀ ♤ // — DIVERGENCES. » ̖́-#- ̗̀ ♤ // — HEADCANONS. » ̖́-#phEW IT'S FINALLY FINISHED#if you have questions#don't be shy !!
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
May 2018
The scent of lilac blossoms, especially in the late evening on a walk through the neighbourhood. Still some light over the horizon, moon and stars visible.
Going hiking along the Isar with Lena. Seeing some kind of leopard snail, stealing lilac from behind a fence, riding my pastel-coloured bicycles. A jazz band playing in the beergarden. Eating a crêpe with Nutella. Talking. Walking. Even though my hip hurt.
That dude, Sebastian, who made a mock birthday invitation for me based on my favourites. I ended up with a Six Feet Under party - “Die 20er zu Grabe tragen”. With an all-you-can-eat ramen buffet and Bilderbuch as the live act.
Barcelona. It was so nice with our small group of students. The weather was ok-ish and all in all it felt pretty much like a normal vacation - thanks to Nicole’s good organisation and preparation. The best thing is that I’m going to get all the money back I advanced. Definitely gonna try and organise trips for next year, too!
Meeting José, a very handsome and funny guide at the Picasso museum. I transformed into a creepy stalker back at home and found him on FB, just to send him a message. You know, about the students thinking he was very nice and all. Ha. Alas, he has a girlfriend. But boy was he cute.
Meeting Carina from Montreal at the Barceloneta beach. I took care of her bag while she went in for a swim and afterwards we started talking. Before we said goodbye she made me draw an Angel Card out of a little cotton bag. It said Gratitude - apparently something I need to work on.
Watching the soap bubbles pop in the air. Lying at the beach instead of attending parent-teacher-conference.
Seeing the inside of Sagrada Familia for the first time. Those stained-glass windows are amazing. They create a very special mood of the light. Also, I found a small round window with my name on it.
That woman passionately kissing a man in a wheelchair in the middle of a Spanish airport. They were paying attention to nobody else, only seeing each other.
Discovering the natura store at the airport.
My new black suede handbag with pearls, sequins and embroidery. It looks like an abstract painting.
Charlotte Roche: Verlasst die Städte
Making tiny rainbows in the air with the garden hose.
How Do We Break the Stereotypes We’ve Created for Ourselves?
Drawing two protest signs for the Anti-PAG demonstration. Unfortuntately I had to explain the terms 1984 and Gilead to a whole lot of guys… geez, people should read more.
Manchego and Green Olive tortilla chips.
The last days with Effi Biest.
Grading English tests outside on the balcony.
My 30th birthday! Somehow I didn’t manage to throw a party and the Isar picnic is probably not gonna happen either but I still had a very special day. Nicole put balloons on my desk at school and gave me a lot of small presents which showed how much she listens to me (roasted corn, dark chocolate, a lemon - even the ‘art teacher necklace’ we saw at the Picasso gift shop in Barcelona; she made a student buy it without me noticing). Also, she made some students organise a scavenger hunt for me!! I got some chocolates from the kids, wore bright red lipstick and a new embroidered shirt dress. In the afternoon I sold my car. Finally. I didn’t get much but it’s gonna pay for my flight tickets in summer. Then I spent the evening with Manu - we had pizza and later shots at his place. Kind of a blind date but it was a good decision.
Being alone in a subway train.
Discovering the Beirut Beirut restaurant near Implerstraße. Sitting outside in the sunshine on a Friday afternoon, reading a book, enjoying Lebanese food and the beautiful surroundings.
Reading Manhattan Beach by Jennifer Egan. I loved the technical knowledge it gave me about diving and the castaways. Lately I’m super interested in old war stories and everything connected to the ocean or faraway places.
Arriving at BluLagoon after spending a whole day on planes. Our villa was amazing. Don’t let me get started on the view and the fact that there were hardly any guests at the time.
Listening to music on our terrace, dancing in a weird way (more like 80’s aerobic class).
Diving. I found my passion. I liked David, the diving instructor, very much (always hot for teacher) and apparently I’ve got a “talent” for diving, too (I mean, at least I don’t panic and have no problem with breathing under water). It was so interesting to learn about the tide, the animals, everything, you know? My first dive in the ocean was magical. It’s like a whole other planet down there. I even saw a dolphin on my very first day. Turtles, puffer fish (my favourite), an octopus.
Pookie the (racist) dog! (He doesn’t bark at Westerners, only Indonesians)
A small hike to White Sand Beach.
Finding out that I actually do like tempeh.
Going to Nusa Lembongan/Ceningan was an excellent idea. Diving there was amazing and I felt very happy around Anang, Simone and Pascal. The islands are beautiful - the waves and the cliffs, breathtaking. I also learned to ride a scooter! Driving over Yellow Bridge between the two islands was priceless. Going on the swings during low tide, Paradise Beach, discovering a popular warung by accident. Having Australians open our Bintang Radlers for us. Collecting corals at Mushroom Beach. Taking the speed boat back to Bali. What an adventure.
Swimming in an infinity pool under the full moon in front of a jungle scenery. That’s Ubud. Watching the little squirrels jumping from tree to tree while having breakfast on the balcony. Being lucky enough to be there during Galungan, a very important Balinese holiday. There were pejors lining the streets and people in traditional clothes on their way to their families and village temples. We met a driver while we were looking for the waterfalls. He took us to the Tegalalang Rice Terrace and answered all of our questions about Balinese culture like official languages, rooster fights or the school system. At the organic farm we saw Luwaks and tried different kinds of coffee. After we had said goodbye we took the Ridge Walk back into Ubud. On our way we ate some vegan coconut ice-cream, met a kitty and of course we found a swing, too. Swings are everywhere in Bali. I loved the one between Nusa Ceningan and Lembongan. And the one at the rice terrace even though you had to pay for it. In the evening we walked through Monkey Forest right before closing time - the animals were pretty relaxed because they had just gotten their dinner - and witnessed a gorgeous red sunset on our way home.
Our scooter trip to the Elephant Cave temple (I got such a calm, spiritual feeling in that cave - it must be such an awe-struck experience to sit in there alone in complete darkness for prayer or meditation) and Bali Bird Park. Eating at a Muslim restaurant because all the others were closed for Galungan. Weird chocolate and green tea shaved ice. And all those birds. I fell in love with the Kakadus. Such lovely little fellas. It was crazy expensive (for Balinese standards) but definitely worth it.
Starting our first night in Canggu at Moana with a plate of delicious fish appetizers. A friendly hosts and a very helpful Australian neighbour who supplied me with band-aids and skin antibiotic. Hipster-watching at Crate (we went there twice because their breakfast is in fact spectacular). Surfer-watching at the beach. Bintangs at sunset. Marvelling at the waves. Swimming all the way back to the shore after drifting far out with the tide without noticing (all the practice in the pool paid off). Discovering Gelato Secrets on our scooter trip to Tanah Lot. Daring to use the infamous Canggu shortcut - it was way more scary on foot than with the scooter. Our Vinyasa Flow yoga class and the Balinese full body massage at The Chillhouse. Cheap warungs with delicious food. I could be sad now but in fact I’ve already got tickets to Australia and Indonesia for August so there’s something to look forward to!
1 note
·
View note
Text
Hero FB adventures
This is the result of me, @jenny-opm, @shorthairsonic, @dibujos-de-la-orilla and @criscura talking about the concept of our boys (and their friends) using Facebook and what that might lead to... It led to a really fun discussion, so I’ve collected it as points here for anyone curious. It’s about 2.6k long so I’ll put it behind a Read More. Enjoy XD
Dr. Kuseno, being a technical genius, takes to Facebook like a duck to water, having no trouble navigating the site. However, he still acts like a stereotypical grandpa on there - when Genos posts a status along the lines of “Rainy day, perfect for a movie” Kuseno comments with “Indeed my boy, try not to catch a cold and send Saitama my regards. Kuseno.” He occasionally also teases Genos, such as sending him a photo of an electric whisk with the caption “your next upgrade is ready.” (In a misplaced attempt at being kind he tags Saitama in all ads for hair growth treatment he comes across… but at least he also tags him when he finds an unusually good sale)
It is actually thanks for a birthday post from Kuseno that Saitama learns when Genos’ birthday is the first time! He catches the borg sitting and smiling while looking a his phone, which is unusual - usually if he’s on the phone it's something from the HA, which normally has him frowning.
Neither Saitama nor Genos have a lot of friends on FB (to start with, at least). It’s mostly their closest friends such as King and Mumen. Genos also has Metal Bat added, who gives him (good natured) crap on near everything he posts.
Bang is the hopelessly confused Facebook grandpa, struggling to understand how it works. Poor Charanko does his best to help him… “How do I search here?” “You have to go to the search bar… No, that’s where you write your status” “My what?”
Once he does get the hang of it, Bang comments every time someone posts about themselves doing any sort of sporty activity with “Looking good! Ever think about coming by the dojo?” (It gets to the point that FB warns him for posting the same thing over and over and everyone is starting to suspect that his account has been hacked by a virus that just keeps promoting his dojo - poor Charanko is accused of setting it up)
Metal Bat SPAMS FB with videos of Zenko’s piano shows. Everyone knows about her recitals a week in advance because he keeps hyping it up. He also has a soft spot for posting glamour selfies.
Saitama posts a lot of blurry cat photos with no caption and sometimes food pictures. He posts at all kinds of random hours of the day, almost never answers anyone, his photos are low quality and he posts a lot of odd YouTube links.
Genos likes every photo of Saitama and uploads his own - somehow, Saitama always looks far less derpy in Genos’ photos (he’s studied all his best angles).
Genos has no shame and starts liking all photos of Saitama, going through every tag ever - meaning once in a while someone who went to high school with Saitama suddenly gets a like from Demon Cyborg on a photo taken 12 years ago. Unsurprisingly, people are SHOCKED at this and it takes them a while to figure out why - until they notice how he keeps tagging Saitama on his page. This is the only kind of interaction they get online with Demon Cyborg and people start tagging Saitama in photos in the hope of getting response from him. They slyly get photos of him in public and post and tag him in the hope of a response. As long as he’s awake (he’s a heavy sleeper) Genos likes them instantly, unknowingly rewarding his fans for their behaviour.
Genos never accepts friend requests from any non-heroes but Saitama sometimes does because “maybe that name’s familiar idk whatever” and some of Genos’ fangirls manage to befriend him on Facebook, consequently seeing his photos… causing them to just about spontaneously combust - “Did you SEE that photo of Demon Cyborg in an apron?!”
Genos notices this and tells Saitama that he is NOT to post his 124 bedhead pics of Genos to Facebook. Saitama forgets(?) and posts 53 of them anyway before he remembers he wasn’t supposed to. He tries to cheer Genos up - “But look at how many likes and shares they’re getting! This doesn’t even happen with the cat pictures!” Genos is not impressed to see his groggy-ass self on a million message boards (and tells Saitama that “...to be fair, Sensei, sometimes it’s hard to tell if they’re cat pictures.”)
Saitama is enjoying this game (not quite realizing the scope of this all) - sneaks a pair of cat ears on Genos, takes a photo and uploads, enjoying the storm afterwards.
Facebook suggests that Saitama upload a photo album that is just the same photo of Genos doing the dishes at slightly different angles and he’s like “why not” and posts that as well. This is followed up by a little video of him singing quietly and dancing a little while washing the dishes.
One day they come across a group of Demon Cyborg fans on the street who come up to them and ask if Genos could sign their photo books - they’ve printed a bunch of pictures from their FBs, full of like bedhead and apron pics (“Mr. Demon Cyborg sir I LOVED that video of you dancing with the mop!”). Genos can’t even process what’s happening and signs them with a stunned expression, while Sai takes one of the books, looking through it and pointing out his favourites. “Hey, I remember this one! Aw, dude, where’s this shirt? You look nice in it, I haven’t seen it in a while.” (“Mr Demon Cyborg I didn’t know you had feet slippers!” - a small part of Genos dies)
Saitama starts getting bombarded with requests on Facebook. “Get him sleeping!” “Get him laughing!” “Can you get him to pose in that white shirt, maybe with the ripped jeans?”
Saitama starts uploading little videos, such as himself telling Genos a bunch of puns as they go through a store. Eventually he figures out how to cut videos into clips and bombards Genos for two days to get “material”. It does get a bit overwhelming in the end however, so he tells the fans that he can’t take more pictures because his phone ran out of memory. To his despair, this leads to fans sending them shipments of memory cards, cameras and gift cards for even more stuff and it’s all very unnecessary. He even receives a brand new phone from “a fan”.
(The good side is, with all this training he is getting progressively better at taking pictures)
One day, the daily picture he uploads is very sad - just an empty chair with the caption “He’s at repairs” :(
Another day however, Saitama goes to upload a photo of Genos in his apron, but it’s… the wrong apron picture. He accidentally uploads a naughty pic, oops. It’s not the most obviously naughty one, not enough to get them banned from FB (and Genos has no nipples, anyway…) but it’s pretty obviously not meant for the public.
Genos is at first (rightfully) mad at Saitama… until they get like a million really nice apron lingerie sets in the mail. To get back at the other, he uploads a photo of a bare-chested Saitama - not at all prepared for the onslaught of “HOLY SHIT” responses, growing possessive instead of mad when the fans start screaming for more.
Saitama tries to take a good shot of himself but eventually Genos, even through being annoyed, takes the camera from him and gets a good picture. Fans ask for even more and a bewildered Saitama replies with “Um, sure?” uploading a half-naked bathroom selfie, where he’s still wet with a towel wrapped around himself. People go wild. (Genos can’t decide if he wants to delete the picture or share it so it’s on his wall as well. He is… conflicted.) (A less successful picture shows Saitama absolutely ripped, but unfortunately with a prominent double chin, like that time he played video games at the HA - selfies are hard…) (“Mr Saitama, can I request the ripped jeans again, but this time with you wearing them..?”
Unfortunately their shenanigans do not go unnoticed at they get called in to HA’s Public Relations for the umpteenth time. Their attempts at getting the heroes to take it down a few notches is made more difficult by them referring to Amai’s latest “I’m about to have sex” album cover as proof they aren’t out of line.
Amai Mask, in his defence, maintains that his pictures are “classy” and “done professionally”. Saitama responds with gesturing to a photo of Naked Apron Genos frying eggs - “This is classy!”. They continue with pointing out that more than likely, if they stopped, people would complain to the HA and they’d have to explain it was the HA who stopped them in the first place... (And really, the HA shouldn’t complain, Saitama and Genos are earning them so many donations….) "THEY CURED MY CANCER AND WATERED MY CROPS AND BLESSED MY CAT HERE'S MONEY" - “They did what now?!” - the HA representatives don’t even understand what this means but eventually lets it all slide. (The only one who understands the references is their intern managing the official HA twitter, but no one cares about their opinion…)
With all this material, Genos’ fan club is getting a lot more activity than Amai Mask’s, which doesn’t go unnoticed. Amai tries to upload “accidental photos” too in an attempt to become the centre of attention, but they are all obviously fake, such as “I woke up like this” pictures of him with perfect hair and makeup, nothing like Demon Cyborg’s messy hair and squinting eyes.
Amai tries again - “Oh no guys you won't believe this but, i was doing my make up right and omg my cat walked on top of my phone and took this photo of me lol” - someone digs up an old interview where Amai states that he’s allergic to cats (that someone is Genos). He also uploads a photo of a cup from Starbucks which has “To the prettiest guy I’ll see today” written on it and claims he got it (until someone points out that’s a photo from Google).
Meanwhile on Saitama’s FB page, a new video of an unaware Genos twitching in his sleep has just been uploaded, caption “look he’s dreaming shhh”
Saitama just happens to be awake late that evening and passes the time surfing FB, commenting “y’all never go to bed huh” when he sees the immediate responses - given how big Genos’ fanclub is, there’s always someone who’s awake. In fact, this video is more than likely to wake a number of fans up to scream over it. Saitama makes a little livestream showing off their cups as he brews himself some tea (“this is my cup. That one’s Genos’. We found it in a thrift store after he accidentally dropped the last one.” He finishes with showing Genos sleeping again and saying “see he’s sleeping now you all go to bed too”.
One day he posts a still picture of the sleeping borg, with the caption being just “I love him”.
It takes a while, but once the fans understand that their love is real and not changing, some of them start to (not always so) subtly suggest he should propose, such as tagging Saitama whenever a jewellery store has a good offer (they’ve picked up on his love for sales).
One day everything is quiet, then Saitama posts simply “He said yes” (or perhaps it’s just a picture of their hands wearing the rings) and FB EXPLODES. People ask for photos and Saitama replies with “All I got is him ugly crying oil everywhere” and the fans go “POST IT.”
After they’ve gotten engaged things get a bit more quiet, with Saitama just posting the occasional update like “he’s going to marry me” and “he’s going to be my husband”. “I want the date to be on his birthday but that’s too long of a wait” ,“he loves me”.
Fast-forward a bit. It’s been quiet for a while. Genos has barely posted anything but one day Saitama’s FB friends see that he’s been tagged in a picture that turns out to be a photo where Saitama appears to be passed out on the futon, drooling in his sleep and surrounded by empty pizza cartons. Caption “my husband to be”. (The picture completely blows up on FB)
Fans start speculating on their outfits, causing Saitama to sweat - he hadn’t planned that far ahead. He asks for suggestions and they end up covering the entire colour spectrum. He even enquires a little bit to hear if there’s anyone who’s a real actual wedding planner among their fans, it might work out…
In the end, they decide on a small private wedding, but Saitama does suggest he might be able to livestream it. He gives no date or anything to go by, however. In an attempt to keep it hidden, they end up hosting it at the dojo, hoping the stairs might also deter some potential invaders. (Bang is more than happy to host - maybe he can convince some people to join the dojo. The stairs aren’t a problem for the heroes, mostly - King does text Saitama with “I’m here can you pick me up” once he arrives at the bottom whereas Mumen handles them himself - but makes sure to arrive very early so he’ll have time for a shower before the ceremony. Saitama suddenly starts the livestream out of the blue on FB, writing “k its happenin!” and a bunch of fans tune in. (Hopefully Bang won’t hear about the livestream or he’ll start advertising on it, too…)
They get married!!
(Back to where we started - how does Kuseno react to all this FB shenanigans? Well, more than likely he doesn’t spend too much time on FB, but he does check periodically, probably catching at least a couple of the pictures of Genos sleeping and in his apron and whatnot. As always, he replies good naturedly - “glad you’re getting your rest son”.
Kuseno also has a habit of going full-on Geek and writing very long explanations regarding Genos’ body sometimes - such as explaining why he twitches in his sleep, or an explanation on how his cooling systems work in response to someone writing “WAAAHHH WHY IS HE SO COOOL” on one picture. Unfortunately, Kuseno doesn’t realize that his FB is set to friends only, so only Saitama and Genos see these comments…)
Bonus: Saitama occasionally tags Genos in pictures he takes of cheap bootleg Demon Cyborg merch he comes across, disappointing fans hoping to see a new photo of him, only to be met by his asymmetrical poorly painted face on an action figure. “It’s not even official merch…”
Saitama has a habit of buying the especially poorly made ones because “they’re funny”.
One fan asks one day if Demon Cyborg owns any merch and Sai uploads a photo of all the stuff he keeps in the apartment with the caption “And even more stuff at his docs”.
The fans are stunned - but some are also like “ok but where do I get these things?!”
"says he special ordered them or w/e" "oh this other one was from HA" "oh... he says it's out of stock" "he has the stock" ”Maybe if you ask him real nice. Doubt he’ll let go tho he only has like 278 of them” ”...he informs me he has 289”
The fans try to barter with Genos, such as offering to draw a NEW Caped Baldy posted in return for one of those charms. At this point Saitama is starting to wonder why he has to be the bridge between fans wanting Caped Baldy merch and Genos. Genos doesn’t seem to want to talk directly to his fans, but eventually agrees to use Saitama’s account, basically pretending to be him - the fans do eventually get their merch, but are confused as to why Saitama suddenly seems to turn a lot more serious and formal whenever it comes to merch talk (and is that 10 page terms of service really necessary?!) but at least in the end they get a super rare piece of merch not available anywhere else (because Genos bought them all).
#gosh#well there you have it#this was such a fun discussion I enjoyed it a lot XD <3333#thanks guys you're the best#to anyone who read the whole thing (woah good job) I hope you liked it too!#all for fun ofc#genos#saitama#genosai#saigenos
51 notes
·
View notes
Link
Their racism isn’t always intentional. Sometimes it is a byproduct of privilege, sometimes it is a deflection, and sometimes it is caused by the vapid, shallow inability to care about or understand anything that they don’t agree with because they are the majority.
The population of not-racists is steadily growing. Not-racists voted for Donald Trump. Not-racists say that kneeling for the flag means you want to slit the throats of veterans. Not-racists believe in Blue Lives, White Jesus and black-on-black crime. So we decided to do a countdown of the 10 most popular phrases so that you can easily identify not-racists, or play a game of not-racist bingo in your spare time:
10. “Why must everything have to be about race?”
One of the most used ideas in the not-racist handbook is that talking about race creates divisiveness. The theory rests on the premise that the more people point out racism, the more ... umm ... I really don’t know how the second part works.
The truth is that talking about race makes white people uncomfortable because it reminds them of the filthy history of white supremacy. That’s why Texas schoolbooks referred to slaves as “immigrants,” and Confederate-flag-wavers have twisted the bloodiest conflict in U.S. history into something about states’ rights, tradition and the North’s hatred of sweet tea ... and declaring human beings to be personal property.
And I get it; it is very uncomfortable for white people to hear about the atrocities of racism knowing that their people are complicit in centuries of mistreatment. It would give me the heebie-jeebies, too. It’s like cheating on a woman, confessing and then wondering why she’s always bringing up old shit when you come home late.
But the only way America will ever cure the cancer of white supremacy is by talking about it and treating it as if it were a disease. If you found a tumor in your left lung and your doctor brought it up every time you lit a cigarette, it would be stupid to respond with, “Why does everything have to be about lung cancer?”
It’s killing you, man. It’s killing you.
9. “I dated a black guy/girl ... ”
A few days ago I received a message from a not-racist woman who genuinely wanted to know why I used the phrase “white people” (and its more hilarious cousin, “wypipo”). I patiently replied to her (I don’t always clap back, but when I do, it’s in the mailbag), and she wrote back that she understood. She explained that she wasn’t racist because her ex-husband was black and she had half-black children. Which left me wondering:
Who are these black men and women dating these clueless white people and leaving them as unwoke as they found them?
You gon’ let her raise your kids, bruh? For real?
Who told wypipo that when a black penis enters a white vagina (or vice versa), the orgasm gives them a special immunity to being a bigot?
If so, where does it go? (The racism, not the penis, stupid.)
Instead of the March on Washington or the Montgomery Bus Boycott, should we have just marched around the country having orgies?
That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works.
8. “I don’t see color.”
Do you stop at green lights? How do you play checkers, then? Not-racists will actually try to convince you that they don’t care about race and that erasing the concept of race from our minds is a self-righteous, egalitarian attribute.
Bullshit.
Here is the thing: The idea of a post-racial society is really the desire for a white society. Even nonracist Caucasians don’t mind this because they don’t understand that whiteness has surpassed the classification of a racial category in America and has become the default.
Black people want to be treated like everyone else. We don’t desire to be seen as everyone else. Most African Americans, Mexicans, Jews, etc., love their race and their culture. It is a large part of who we are. We don’t care that you see our color. We just want you to respect it.
Also, how do you play Uno?
7. “You’re the racist!”
In the September 2013 global quarterly Not-Racists, the executive board decided to introduce a clever bit of trickery into the racial discussion in America. According to the memo obtained by The Root, Caucasians were instructed to respond to any claims of racism, no matter how subtle, with the charge that black people were the racist ones. Since then, according to a poll never conducted by Pew Research, claims of reverse racism have risen more than 389 percent.
I’m not one of those people who believe black people can’t be racist, because I, too, felt racism creep into my heart once when a Caucasian co-worker offered me leftover potato salad. Even though black-on-white racism technically exists, it is rarely injurious.
Because—feeling butt-hurt is not a medical symptom.
6. “I grew up around black people.”
There are people who grew up in the “inner city” or played Pop Warner football on the Negro side of town who believe that they can’t be racist. According to them, growing up around black people—along with Mandingo penis and black vagina—completes the Holy Trinity of racism cures.
When asked why the white boys raised on slave plantations; the millennials who went to integrated schools but carried tiki torches in Charlottesville, Va.; and Darren Wilson, who worked his entire career as a police officer in a majority-black town before he shot Michael Brown Jr., still had remnants of racism in their bloodstreams, white people collectively paused, gazed at their flip-flops for a few brief seconds and replied, “Why does everything have to be about race?”
5. “Not all white people ... ”
Nothing upsets the #NotRacist stomach more than hearing the phrase “white people” used in any capacity. Only the term “white privilege” causes more consternation.
That same woman who wrote the letter I mentioned earlier said this:
First & foremost, many of us “white people” could careless what racial label you bestow upon us because at the end of the day the same loving GOD that created white skin created dark skin ... Why does there have to be a label? Why must we classify as a “color”? When we are all God’s master piece? No one runs from what the classification of one’s skin color reminds them of! What happened years ago is embarrassing. It’s hurtful! And morally disturbing. I am fortunate, my family did not participate in the barbaric behaviors as other whites. And God help our soul had we ever considered using a racial slur at another person! No my family was not and is not perfect but sir not all of us were mentally disturbed. And that is what someone has to be in order to hold another against their will in captivity. And sir, why would you want to write such things that fuel the hatred? Why would you assume that ALL whites fit into one general spectrum? If this is so, does this mean that because you are black sir that you are a gang banger? Do you see the issue here sir? ”
Although this is one of the most interesting uses of the “not all white people” variations, it raises an interesting point: I have a friend who is black and owns a Tesla. When she hears a mechanic advise people to change their oil every 3,000 miles, she doesn’t say, “Not all cars!” My friend is intelligent enough to know that the mechanic is referring to most cars or the typical car. Nothing in this world is 100 percent. Somewhere there exists a cat who likes having mice around, but for the most part ...
People who object to the word combination “white people” do so only because they aren’t used to being stereotyped. When the letter writer considered every black stereotype and decided to ask if I was a gangbanger, it did not bother me. You know why?
Because I am not a gangbanger.
I am also accustomed to living with the knowledge that my skin engenders certain thoughts about who I am. She does not have to navigate a world that presupposes her psyche on a day-to-day basis.
And that, dear reader, is called “white privilege.”
4. “Go back to Africa!”
Not-racists believe that America belongs to them and that whiteness endows them with the power to excommunicate the offenders of their country at will. This, too, is white privilege.
White privilege is believing that you have the right to tell anyone to leave the country they built with their own hands, for free. White privilege is believing that America is in decline and can be made great again only by a billionaire trust fund baby, but simultaneously saying that black football players have no right to criticize America because it made them rich. White privilege is the belief that this country is yours, and anyone who doesn’t like it should kick rocks. White privilege is the belief that kneeling is cause for being called anti-American, but not the actual, unconstitutional mistreatment of Americans.
That’s why I’m proposing that whenever we hear anyone complain about big government, high taxes, Black Lives Matter, traffic, not enough pineapples on their pizza or ask whether something is gluten-free, black people should cup their hands around their mouths and bellow into the world:
“Go back to Caucasia!”
3. “Why must you always be the victim?”
Another not-racist premise posits that when black people play the “race card,” they are blaming the failures of black people on racism. According to them, we want to make white people the villains and ourselves the victims.
They are partially correct. Black people kill too many other black people. The black family structure is falling apart. Blacks should focus more on education. Those things will help black people immensely.
But if black people did all those things and ignored the fact that a black college graduate is more likely than a white high school grad to be unemployed, and on average earns less than one; or that schools with majority-black students receive less funds than white schools with the same tax and income bases; or ignored mass incarceration, sentence inequality, the drug war, the history of redlining, banks giving blacks higher interest rates, disproportionate police brutality ...
... that would be stupid.
It’s like asking someone who was sexually abused to never talk about it or even to keep quiet when the cops ask about it because it turns the survivor into a victim.
We are the victims ... of racism.
2. “I don’t want to sound racist, but ... ”
I have been told, on numerous occasions, to never consider anything after “but.” The oldest sleight of hand in the book of racism magic is to proclaim oneself “not racist.” It is a wondrous trick that never works.
It’s akin to R. Kelly opening up a day care center and using the motto, “I’m not a pedophile, but I’d love to babysit your kids!”
Also, whenever anyone says they “don’t want to sound racist,” brace yourself. Because they are definitely about to say some racist shit.
1. “Make America great again.”
I can’t even ...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Michael Harriot
Michael Harriot is a staff writer at The Root, host of "The Black One" podcast and editor-in-chief of the daily digital magazine NegusWhoRead.
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
Thank you, for your discourse on this fandom hate toward fujoshi. That's all.
Thank you!
I saw a post a bit ago that was like “fujoshi will never get anyone to love them because they’re too busy obsessing over gay men to get a real man”
And I’m like - you’re not even trying to hide your misogyny, it’s like sexism 101 level stuff.
The idea that what women do should center around what men want.
“Boys won’t like you if you X”
That girls and women should care what boys and men like and strive to cater to their preferences. Like every action a girl/woman takes must be about pleasing men. No other goal. No self fulfillment. No ‘what you want’ because at the end of the day girls aren’t supposed to want anything, they’re just supposed to be wanted and work to be appealing so men will want them. Like we’re a consumable.
1) Plenty of fujoshi don’t care if men like them. Plenty are lesbians. Plenty are ace. Some are ace lesbians.
Attention men - not everything is about you.
2) Plenty of women who do like men, bi girls and straight girls, are pretty tired of the notion that we have to decide what to enjoy and how to ‘behave’ based on what men find attractive.
3) It’s not just women who like yaoi...
Feminism rant:
You know what I hate? The notion that I should care that
“Boys don’t like girls who X. “
Forget about it.
F- it.
Wear no make up. Wear a ton of make up. Play sports. Be assertive even if men say that makes you ‘bossy’. Have sex if you want to. Don’t have sex if you don’t want to. Set boundaries. Enjoy what you want even if it’s not ‘for girls’ and even if men don’t like it.
A woman’s life and purpose isn’t about pleasing men, even if you like men.
I think in 2017 there are plenty of women who’d rather be with guy who likes her for her. Rather than faking who you are to get boys, I think we can be ourselves and limit the dating pool to people who like us and support us for who we are, no matter who we are...
My IRL AFAB friends range from the most femme girly girl(describes herself as a ‘basic white girl’ stereotype) who loves fashion and make up and Starbucks. She loves that stuff. A gender queer person who doesn’t care about gender roles and falls into a lot of the stereotypically masculine traits. I know girls who are veterans and active military service. Powerful, athletic, determined women. One is the stereotypical ‘tom boy’ hair in a bun, no make up, no interest in fashion. The other does beauty tutorials on youtube and is adorable and “feminine”.
And none of their choices of who they are or what they do is about what men want.
It’s about what they want and who they are and all of them like men (some also like other genders too, but all of them will date or are currently dating guys - guys who love them for them and respect their interests even if they don’t share them).
So guys, like if your argument is ‘you’ll never get a guy if you behave like that’ referring to girls enjoying something men don’t approve of...
Uh yeah, women might want to date /you/ but there are plenty of men we can date (not to mention all the other non-men dating options).
Honestly, fujoshi hating guy, no one really cares if you won’t date them because none of us want to date an asshole. Not because you don’t like yaoi, no one has to like anything (I don’t like most sports or FPS video games, or card games that involve way too much math and spending money on expansion packs). Disliking something doesn’t make you an asshole. Being rude to other people because they like things you don’t like makes you an asshole.
What people do to enjoy themselves is up to them - and that applies to things women do.
If men have a hobby, women are supposed to support. All those commercials for “game day” where men have fun and women are on chef and waitress duty in the kitchen bringing out the snacks and party planning.
If women have a hobby, it’s sort of derided and men just avoid it. You don’t see commercials where men serve snacks and tea at their wive’s sewing circle meetings or plan what to buy for the ladies book club.
If something is ‘for girls’ it’s ridiculed. If something has no appeal for straight guys (doesn’t cater to the male gaze like most other media) it’s under that category of ‘what’s wrong with you’. How dare you dedicate time to something that in no way pleases men. That by design isn’t about pleasing men?
Women are people too. Women can like things. What we like is about what we enjoy. If you can’t like someone without sharing all their interests and in no way support interests you don’t share - I don’t want to date you.
And for the record. It’s not just women who like yaoi.
My husband loves yaoi. I collect yaoi manga. I collect it to support the genre (one of very few that is by women for women) and because I might get around to reading it, and the art is pretty.
I haven’t read most of my collection.
My husband has read all of it. Sometimes multiple times.
He also gets more heated about M/m shipping.
Like I showed him some cute Sora/Kairi art and he started ranting about how Sora belongs with Riku like the most stereotypical ‘rabid fangirl’ you can imagine. (side note - have you ever noticed how men are passionate or dedicated, but girls are obsessive or rabid?’)
And this was before he came out as bi (yaoi and slash fic helped him to explore his sexuality and come to a point where he could come out as bi).
And although he likes and dates guys, he is more into girls, he’s into women.
He also just really like the romance genre and enjoys slow build and emotional investment over the superficial male gaze stuff you see in fan service for guys.
So like no, fujoshi hating straight men, we’re not hurt by you saying you won’t date us. We can just date men who also like shipping or date men who are supportive of their friends liking things they’re not into (and if you date someone, you should see them as your friend, right?).
(And like - I’ve been to yaoi con, there’s a subset of straight guys who attend the con just to meet girls, because it’s a strictly 18 plus events where men can actually ‘act sexy’ and enjoy girls giving them attention, which is pretty appealing to men who like girls and think the gender role system that says they have to chase girls and never enjoy unsolicited attention from girls is pretty B.S. and actually thinking about inverting the system instead of assuming girls must really love unsolicited dick picks and cat calls since they’d like some attention sometime).
5 notes
·
View notes