#it sucked but at least i wrote

[olteacup]

born to be a writer forced to come up with amazing ideas but suck at writing 💔💔

[artzybumpkin]

I Need Your Help...

CW/ mpreg, language, slight angst

Pt. 1

St@nley heard the nauseating sizzle before the pain registered, radiating white hot agony from where the back of his right shoulder made contact with the metallic mass he was pressed against. A tortured scream tore itself from his throat as he tried to wriggle himself away from the hot steel. He crumbled to a heap on the floor, eyes squeezed shut as he gripped his shoulder.

"St@nley!!" F0rd's voice rang as he scrambled up to his feet, a mortified expression plastered to his face as he rushed to his brother, book in hand.

It all happened so fast…

One moment Stanf0rd was explaining the basics of his plan: to take his journal and take it far, FAR away, where it could never be stumbled upon again… and in the next, he ended up tackling his brother to get it back when the latter threatened to burn the damn thing. It turned into a violent game of keep-away, with them pushing and shoving and cursing each other as they each tried to pry it from one another's grasp. The tussle lasted several minutes… and ultimately led him to unintentionally slamming his brother up against the blazing surface of one of his machines.

How could it have gone so wrong?

Breathing harshly through his teeth, St@n stiffly managed to sit upright enough to lean his good shoulder on the doorway, his left hand white-knuckling the fabric of his jacket sleeve as he attempted to quell the feverish throbbing. His vision was blurred, his ears were ringing, and he could just barely make out that a figure was approaching him… speaking to him… or maybe at him, but in that moment it only read as static and noise.

He felt like a cornered animal. And with a fresh rush of adrenaline, instinct overcame rationale in a flurry of pain and pure, pent up rage...

F0rd knelt down in front of him, frantically apologizing and trying to assess the damage. "Ohhh my gosh I'm so sorry!! Are you alr-" but his words were abruptly cut off as St@n's fist made blunt contact with the underside of his chin before he could come any closer, knocking him silly for a brief moment. He stumbled back, dropping the journal, and landed flat on his ass a few feet across from him. He groaned into his hand as it caressed his aching jaw.

"What the HELL is wrong with you??!" St@nley exclaimed scornfully. "Are you CRAZY??!"

"ME??!" came a muffled response before F0rd uncovered his mouth. "You punched me in the FACE!!"

"YOU tackled me to the ground over a goddamn BOOK, you jackass!!" A frustrated, pained sound slipped past St@n's lips. 'Scorched the SHIT outta my shoulder too... fuck!...' he thought bitterly. The pain of the burn was slowly dulling enough to become manageable but was still deafeningly there. "Do you not see how insane that is?? Do you have ANY idea what you could've-... y-you could've..." His face suddenly fell, his complexion somehow paling even more than it already had. Quietly mumbling an inaudible 'Oh no!.,' he shakily fumbled with the zipper of his jacket.

F0rd was about to spat a venomous retort… then all those thoughts vanished as he watched his brother, who's attention was no longer on him at the moment...

Self-consciousness took a back seat as, with a little less effort than he'd like to admit, St@nley all but tore his jacket open... fully revealing the impressively sized bump as he frantically palpated the sides with his free hand. In the heat of the moment, he'd temporarily neglected the fact that he had a passenger on board, and an air of fear and desperation loomed in his eyes as he tried to garner SOME reaction from the babe inside. He couldn't take the possibility of anything happening to them as a result of carelessness on his part. Not after they've stuck with him this long...

After a tense wait, he jumped slightly when he received a harsh yet responsive jab(what was most likely a punch back of annoyance from the little one for disturbing their peace). "Ohhhh you're okay... you're okay..," he breathed, more to convince himself than anyone else, as he let his head fall back against the doorframe.

Meanwhile, F0rd's nerves were steadily building in intensity. Realization hit him with the force of a semi truck, but the shock made it hard to formulate the words that were buzzing in his exhausted brain. How in the world did he not notice until now?!... "St@nley, I... You... Y-You're..?"

St@nley's eyes popped back open, making contact with his brother's... before following his gaze back to his own stomach. He groaned, exasperated. He knew this conversation was coming, he dreaded it the entire drive up here... now the proverbial cat was out of the bag. "Right... um..." He did a half-hearted, one handed mock 'jazz hands' motion. "Surprise, I guess... You're gonna be an uncle."

"Pregnant?!..." came a shrill, horrified whisper.

"Figured that was obvious, poindexter."

"Why didn't you tell me you were PREGNANT??!!"

"Oh I dunno, maybe cuz I thought you were in trouble?? That the message you sent was clearly urgent and you needed HELP??"

Stanf0rd, his head swimming from both the adrenaline rush wearing off as well as the slew of new information he'd just been forced to absorb, promptly flopped to the ground onto his back. He covered his face with his hands, breathing out a rather defeated sound. "I should've never sent that damned postcard..."

St@n huffed. "What? Was I supposed to just NOT come, then?? I didn't haul ass all the way from New Mexico just because! I had to!! You're my freakin' brother, I couldn't leave ya hangin' if I knew you were in trouble!"

"Still..," F0rd let his hands fall from his face and out to his sides. "It was reckless to come all this way when you're in such a..," he fumbled for the right words, " ... condition."

"Do you seriously think I'd skip out on ya over an inconvenience? I'm pregnant, F0rd, not inert."

F0rd opened his mouth as if to respond, but quickly gave up. The pain from where he'd been slugged was starting to made it difficult to speak.

The room went quiet, sans the sounds of machinery blipping, metallic creaking, as well as each of their own attempts to regulate their breathing. They stayed like that for a while, simmering down.

St@nley glanced over to see that the journal, the very thing they were hashing it out over just mere minutes ago, had landed within arms reach of himself. He reached for it, grunting when the movement made his core muscles tense up. He ignored it and and picked the book up. He let go of his shoulder to hold it in both hands, turning it over and inspecting the leather craftsmanship.

Flipping through a few random pages, though the written contents read more or less like Greek to him, it was obvious the sheer amount of love and passion that went into putting the thing together. The time and effort put into the extensive research documented on every single page was astounding. All in his brother's recognizable penmanship…. 'And here I was about to set it on fire..," he thought with a slight pang of guilt.

"What're we doing, Stanf0rd?..," he finally spoke up. "It's not been an hour since I got here and we've already been at each other's throats…"

"Yeah... yeah, no kidding..," F0rd sighed. "We might've lost our heads a bit, there... er, I did..." he admitted, solemnly. "I panicked... reacted rashly..." An apology seemed to hang loosely from his lips, but he didn't quite allow it to slip.

St@nley recognized that but decided not to comment on it. He made an amused sound. This all suddenly felt very familiar. It felt a lot like one of those times when they were just kids, when Ma would not-so-gently encourage them to reconcile after one of their petty skirmishes... skirmishes not unlike that of street cats duking it out over a stolen fish from the boardwalk docks. Seemed it was what Jersey boys did best: Fight. Fight and then make up as if they weren't just about to kick the ever-loving shit out of each other. Oh the nostalgia... Maybe they hadn’t completely changed all that much, after all…

St@n looked back to his brother, who was still sprawled out like a starfish on the floor. A deep sigh rolled from his chest. "Listen..," he started, voice just loud enough to hear over the white noise of the lab, "just so you know, even if there was no emergency... even if there was no rhyme or reason to send for me... I still had every intention to come when you asked me to." He swallowed, hesitating continuing the thought… but pressed on. He needed to say this. "... I wanted to see you, Stanf0rd. I've wanted to for a long, long time..."

F0rd remained quiet, head tilted in his brother's direction, listening.

"I just… after all this time, after all these years, I just thought… maybe you actually wanted to see me again too…"

"..."

"I've missed you, brother…"

F0rd's face softened for a moment, emotions could be seen conflicting behind his eyes. It seemed like he'd wanted so badly to say something... to say anything to clear things up... but right then the appropriate words came up short. He squeezed his eyes shut, steeling himself as he turned back away from St@nley, facing back to the tall ceiling. "You should've stayed home."

And just like that they were plunged back into deafening silence. The gap between them seemed to grow ever so slightly wider once more.

Then, as if on cue (and much to St@horror), an obnoxiously loud but familiar gurgle broke the silence, echoing off the metal bunker walls. His face went beet red as he pressed his hands to his stomach, in a frugal attempt to silence it. "Ah geez…" he mumbled under his breath.

At first it wasn't clear if F0rd had acknowledged the sudden sound or not, as he still laid motionless where he was, but after a moment he let out a soft sigh before limply dragging himself up from the floor, dusting himself off in the process. It was then that he approached his brother... and offered his hand. "Take this to the kitchen?"

From his spot on the floor, St@nley's eyes bounced coldly from F0rd's eyes to his hand before finally accepting the aid. After a quick countdown to 3, and then another as they attempted to get momentum on their side, he was hefted back onto his feet with an unintentional grunt of discomfort. Not only did his shoulder sting like hell, but the already strained muscles in his back knotted up in protest as he stood.

To be honest everything hurt, but he tried not to let it show too much. Instead, he awkwardly shoved his hands back into his pockets.

Er, he attempted to, only to realize in one he still held tight to the leatherback of the journal.

"I didn't come here expecting you to feed me, y'know," he grumbled as he held the book out to his brother, who took it notably less aggressively in comparison to earlier.

"Oh shut up and come eat," F0rd muttered flatly as he passed his brother, meandering lazily towards the elevator. "We'll get a look at that shoulder while we're at it..."

St@n rolled his eyes but diligently followed. His gaze landed on his belly as he walked, where the kid really hadn't stopped moving, obviously still agitated by the rude awakening from earlier. He placed his hand atop the bump just under his ribs, where he could feel what he assumed was their foot. "Your uncle's a real piece of work, kiddo. Remember that."

'But he's family…,' he added mentally to himself, 'Remember that, St@nley...’

TBC

[spaciebabie]

at first getting diagnosed with cptsd was like, "yay my trauma has been validated (it always was valid)!" and i really thought that was going to be it, but then i started to do research as i do whenever i realize i have something and learned that!! the way i experience socialization is!! quite horrid actually!!

[lord-squiggletits]

Part of why I hate this fandom's take on Autobots vs Decepticons is ppl (mainly 'con fans honestly) who can't have any nuance of the situation whatsoever and love to write plots like "oh the humans are racist and abusive towards Cybertronians so this is how Megatron is right" no actually I don't think colonialism/imperialism and racism are justified so long as you can point the finger and say "they were the aggressors first" or "their hands are no cleaner than ours bc their society sucks too" sorry. Please come up with better sociopolitical narratives in your war story.

[shima-draws]

It’s so frustrating I haven’t been able to contribute anything to my own fandom event :’( I’ve been wanting to draw all week I’ve just been too emotionally wrecked to do so. Maybe this weekend I can get something done for at least one of the days 😔

[milkbreadtoast]

(random) ngl before i started learning korean i felt like the worst failure of a korean but now i feel like the best failure of a korean (/j) HAHA

like im struggling to speak but least im speaking..!! I feel like I've restored an essential piece of myself that was missing...

[mourn-and-watch]

one thing that especially irks me about cullen's so-called redemption is the attempts to redeem him through cole's words.

templars' abuses affected cole so badly it damaged his connection to the fade and his own nature. he was a spirit of compassion and witnessing what was happening in white spire turned him into a killer. he murdered lord seeker lambert in cold blood for what he did and most of the time he doesn't regret it — and then he just. drops the "he's not like the other girls" lines about cullen.

and this is such a lazy and annoying move. another thing that is established about cole is that you particularly can't lie to him — about your real feelings and intentions at least. whatever he states about other characters must be true and it is often used as a tool to deepen the characterizations of the main cast and in cullen's case it is just. blatant apologism. there's literally a banter where cole talks about atrocities commited by the templars and then he adds "oh no but cassandra and cullen aren't like that" and never elaborates. the game itself doesn't elaborate either.

like please don't tell me that the spirit who was shaken by knowledge that an innocent boy can die from starving because his jailors simply forgot about him would look in the eyes of a person who used to be meredith fucking stannard's right hand and still thinks that her methods were just a little too harsh but necessary and justified and say yeah. this guy is such a friend of mages. if only there were more templars like him

[muffymello]

Night Owl- ii

(Roronoa Zoro x f!Reader)

University AU - A barista waits for a text back, eventually becoming impatient.

1.7k Words

You spent the rest of your shift frantically checking your phone, distracted from the onslaught of customers.

Usually your lazy coworker would be on your ass about this, you did almost everything as she just took orders most days. This time, she left you alone in your haze. You worked much slower than you usually would as you tried to process the brave move you'd just made on a customer.

Of course, your definition of brave was a bit tame. A phone number on the side of the cup wasn't exactly peak romance, but it was pretty damn good for how tired you were. As the end of your shift creeped ever closer, you thanked the stars for the simple fact that you had the whole day off tomorrow.

By the time tomorrow rolled around, you wished you had something, anything, to do. You had been glued to your messages, waiting for one incoming message that never arrived. At least you got a bit more work done for your classes, phone balanced on your knee as you typed away on the laptop sat comfortably in the crook of your criss-crossed legs. You denied all your roommates’ offers of going out or doing anything at all, nestling in your room to laze the day away.

Next shift, your coworker prodded at your nerves, trying to ease any more information out of you concerning the mystery man who you now knew to be named Zoro.

She didn’t believe he hadn’t even texted you yet, claiming she saw the ‘way he looked at you.’ She had always been a hopeless romantic so you shoved her words aside in your mind, until she suggested going back to the same bar that night.

“He might not even be there, what then?”

“We drink and have some fun, duh~”

She teased and pestered almost relentlessly, now 100% set in the idea while you just made yourself another coffee. The energy she had was almost too much to keep up with, the only way you’d manage was the bitter espresso you now realized needed to be dialed in a bit more.

The evening came around, as did a seemingly infinite barrage of texts from anyone but Zoro. You dressed up a little more than you usually would, and your coworker came over to help with makeup. Soon enough the Uber was at your door, and then at the bar.

You silently prayed he wouldn’t be working, but your prayers were answered with a laugh from fate when the first bartender closest to the end of the bar was green-haired and muscly. That was him, you thought, watching how efficient he could be. It wasn’t overly busy but he still worked like a machine, leaving the only other bartender without much to do at all.

Your coworker groaned at me when I immediately sat at the end of the bar farthest from Zoro, waiting for the other bartender to come take our orders. Mind spinning with all the reasons this was a bad idea, the simple fact he hadn’t texted meant he wasn’t interested… right?

Zoro finished whispering something to the other bartender, too far for you to pick up over the music and shouting, before getting back to work. Their eyes widened at the man’s words, obviously timid and new to the job. A beer was ordered and paid for by your coworker before he disappeared into the back, not paying you any mind before just leaving.

She stuck her tongue out before sipping the frothy drink, smirking. “That’s what you get for being a chicken…” she teased, nudging your shin with her heel from her seat beside you. “Oh, shut up. If this Zoro guy was any interested, wouldn’t I at least get a text back?” “Irrelevant, go make your move girl!” She giggled, now leaving you alone at the bar still with no drink.

You sat waiting, suddenly feeling very awkward. The other bartender didn’t return, and Zoro began working his way down the bar to cover all of his customers. “Oh, it’s you.” He said, a light smile on his features. “Same drink as before?” He began to fill a shaker with ice, pulling out a lime.

“Depends, is it paid for like before?” You quipped back, trying to shake your nerves as he worked away at the drink. This made him chuckle as he finished his pour, topping with the same lime garnish. He was extremely skilled with a knife, captivating my mind as he sliced it so meticulously with ease.

“This one’s on the house, but don’t push your luck…”

This had you grinning, sipping away at the drinks. He was still acting interested, not like someone who would avoid sending you a text. Even being as busy as he was, he still made time to check on you. “Need anything else?” He asked, taking your now emptied glass away. “It’s a shot kind of night, vodka please!”

The plan was to get so drunk you gained some sort of inebriated charisma you were severely lacking. Over the next hour you downed a few shots more than you should have, loosening up and turning into a gigglier, flirtier version of yourself. A few guys had come up to you, and you hadn’t paid for a single drink this far.

Still, your green-haired bartender took their money with a glare. He didn’t seem happy with the attention you were getting, but he still made all of your drinks without any verbal complaints, scaring guys off with no more than a menacing look.

“You’re gonna ruin my scheme here, y’know? I’m gonna drink for free all night, so long as you stop glaring at all the morons trying to woo me~” You teased, bringing your drink to your lips. “Say, you sure this one has no name?” It was another of the lime drinks he made for you, sweet and refreshing on your palate after the nasty shots you’d done.

“Maybe it does, you aren’t hearing it though…”

“And why’s that?” You questioned, curious to know his motive.

“That way I'm the only one makin’ it for you.” He admitted coolly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You were left speechless as he began to help another group of customers, pouring frothy mugs of beer and shots of cheap liquor as you couldn’t do anything but stare. He was so casual, so nonchalant, but he had you blushing like a grade schooler with a stupid crush.

You decided, in your drunken stupor, that you wouldn't let him keep this constant upper hand. The next time he made his way over to where you sat, you immediately asked him the question nagging your mind. “Why haven’t you bothered to text me if you’re gonna flirt with me like this?” You slurred out, thinking you’d finally caught a slip in his confidence.

“Easy, I was asleep all day. After my shift I stopped in for that coffee, and you just happened to be the one who made it. I drank it trying to get some work done, but ended up passed out before I could even start to think. I at least remember the drink being good, so thanks for that.” He smirked, knowing he’d won your little challenge as you sat without words once again. “I can text you later, if you really want. Or, even better.”

He slid a napkin over and pulled a sharpie out of his pocket, scribbling his own number down in quick, messy handwriting. “I’ll be sure to text you if I can read this,” you joked. “I’ll count on it, unless I'm asleep.” He replied with a smile.

You felt a little dumb after his explanation, it was so simple and you’d made such a fuss over it. Your coworker soon snuck up behind you to tell you she was leaving, but you opted to stay and further pester the bartender, he was far more patient than you felt you’d deserved but you still enjoyed talking his ear off.

The two of you flirted and bantered until the early morning, him far more energetic than you since he was used to this schedule. At this point your head rested on the bar and he would only serve you water no matter how much you begged for even a little more booze.

None of the men from before even bothered with trying to take you home, it was obvious you’d captured the bartender’s attention and he wasn’t going to let some creep steal you away. As you rested your head on the bar, humming along to the quieted music, a gentle hand squeezed your shoulder.

When you lifted your head, you were met with those deep, dark eyes. Intoxicating moreso than the generous pours of alcohol you’d consumed, albeit looking at you like you were delicate, something to be handled gently. This was reinforced with the softness of the touch on your shoulder, barely there as he stirred you to be a little more awake. “You have a ride home?” He asked, his deep voice rumbling and scruffy as he attempted a whisper. You shook your head, and he nodded. While you had been face down on the bar, humming and snoozing, he had cleaned up for the night. 

He rounded the bar, offering his arm for support when you stood. You were still quite tipsy, clinging to the forearm presented to you like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Being a bartender, Zoro had plenty of experience with helping drunk people around, which was very apparent in how patiently he handled you.

You ended up in the passenger seat of his car, typing your address into his phone and leaning back into the comfortable seat. It felt like only a blink until you were home, he watched you carefully as you unbuckled your seatbelt, you didn’t even think before leaning over the center console of the car to leave a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, for the ride I mean…” You mumbled, half-asleep and drunk.

This was finally the way you got him to blush, cracking his hard exterior just a bit as you got out of his car and took a second to admire the dopey grin on his face. By the time you’d gotten back inside, you had a text from an unknown number.

‘When you aren’t so drunk, I'll treat you to dinner. I’ll even give you a real kiss this time ;)’

[lucienarcheron]

Finally had a breakthrough on a chapter that I've been stuck on for AGES.

[doctorwhoisadhd]

hmm thinking about the idea of love songs. i think the idea of what a love song is that we have in our culture is inherently a little bit flawed because we have the idea that any song written about romantic feelings is a love song and im thinking thats not exactly true because there is a difference between "romance" and "love". what i'm saying is not that love is a broader category and applies to things that are not romantic in nature. this is in fact true, but it's not what makes the important distinction here. the true distinction between "romance" and "love" is that romance is a societally defined type of interest in another person, whereas love is, essentially, a promise that you make when you build a relationship.

as such, what i call "love" here might be better defined as "care", as that implies more time and effort, but that's a different suitcase to unpack and largely unimportant to my point here, which is more about the societal conventions of what we call love songs. the point is, relationships can be built with other people, yes, but also animals, places, organizations, ideas, so on and so on, whereas romance requires another person, hence the difference between the ideas of "romance" and "love".

with that in mind, there are two types of songs we in western, english speaking, society call "love songs":

1) songs that are about a person's romantic interest in someone that is either definitively known to be unrequited (existing monogamous relationship, sexuality that doesn't align, etc) or simply not requited (aka romantic interest being unknown); and

2) songs about an existing relationship (keeping in mind my points about relationships not just being with people, but also places, things, etcetera) as is.

(some examples of the latter category: mountaintop by relient k, which defines the relationship in question as non-romantic; or i miss my mum by cavetown, which is - as the title implies - a song about the singer missing their mother.)

now, the thing that makes distinguishing these two difficult is the fact that songs about an existing relationship CAN be about wanting certain aspects of that relationship to change. in these cases, determining that a song is one or the other will hinge either on a) authorial intent or b) whether the song is more about what the singer wants (thereby implying #1) or the lack thereof in that relationship (which would imply #2).

to get back to the subject at hand: the term "love song", as we think of it, is an umbrella term that include both of these two categories, and i think that perhaps it is reductive to do so. with that in mind, i think perhaps it would be more appropriate for "love song" to mean only the latter, whereas the former is a category of its own. WHICH is not to say that the two can't overlap — just that if a song is about a person with whom the singer has no relationship, it cannot be considered a love song due to the fact that it is a song about infatuation, not love.

(another interesting wrinkle this provides is the fact that a song might start out in the first category and, as the writer develops a relationship with a person, might move into the second category as they write more.)

[hecksupremechips]

Persona romance routes are all pretty bad but damn they really hit rock bottom with p3p femc route like the misogyny is very blatant and it’s almost hilarious like look at the Shinjiro romance. When you do his social link he’s like very clearly respectful of Kotone as a leader and explicitly says stuff like "oh yeah you’re clearly the best fighter we have, I don’t really know much about fighting like you do, I hope I’m not dragging you down, you’re doing a good job as leader just remember to take care of yourself, everyone looks up to you I know you can rely on them" etc. like he has faith in her leading abilities. But then when you romance him he’s like got dialogue like "bwah bluh i gotta look after you because you’re a GIRL and you need to stick by me, a big strong MAN so you don’t get hurt" and "don’t wear that revealing outfit in front of other guys 👺" and it’s like. Does he respect her or not and also like it doesn’t make sense for him to look down on her for being a girl cuz he literally has never not been led by a girl leader during his time in sees and Mitsuru in particular really has her shit together when it comes to being responsible and a good fighter and she’s always known the most about Tartarus

It’s also like. Idk maybe its just me I’m not a girl so FUCK IF I KNOW but to me the appeal of romancing Shinji is the fact that he’s sweet and sensitive and gentle and has respect for you despite the fact that he acts all scary. That’s like, what made me like this character in the first place. But the writers seem to think what women want is for a BIG STRONG MAN to protect them because they are just DELICATE WOMEN who are inferior in every way it’s like. Shut upppp thanks

[regheart]

i just wrote something?? it will come out on november 1st probably as a celebration

[trickstump]

god as my witness i will write something longer than this one day because vampire st fic cannot be the longest thing I’ve ever written

[milfbro]

Women write better scifi usually. I said it.

[sneffing]

My ex just published the first paper from his PhD and I’m bitter af… but at least it sucks!

[heartshapedcreaturefromcriptoon]

Uh, yeah....

Like, Viv...?

Babe?

My precious Baby Girl?

I love you, and while I can look past a little bit of jokey tackiness in the announcement trailer (even though it's still a major eye roll ...🙄)

If that little, um ...typo? Was in anyway meant to be an intentional pun, or if the entire last part of that paragraph and wording about "visuals" with *that* spelling was meant to invoke some sort of unneeded innuendo and complete tonal whiplash in the minds of your audience after just releasing such an emotional song for this kind of character with your brand new voice actor that you supposedly handpicked debuting for him, I'll be the first to admit that this wasn't it and this is not how you promote the new material, especially after Roman just proved himself more than capable of providing Angel Dust as a character with more respect, dignity, and pathos than I honestly believe Kovach had ever intended to or could. And this tweet shows a lack of respect for both Roman and Angel Dust as a character, which was already there, at in the fanon and fandom, mind you, but should've been dealt with and forgotten once... certain people involved in the original pilot moved on.

Like, everyone's talking about how Blake's voice braking immediately gave them chills and how beautifully serious he seems to be taking this character when it counts, in the way I still believe Kovach never could and wasn't prepared for. And then you go back to social media and where are we? Right back to making jokes about cum.

Which I'm certainly no prude and don't mind when the mood calls for it, but right now it very obviously didn't and I love this series but I'm sick of how it's constantly killing it's own vibe and and mood through it's own marketing by caving to it's "cringe" reputation every. single time. something actually good happens for it. 💀

I'm aware that they were never gonna hire a sensitivity consultant for writing Angel Dust specifically because it's a cartoon, but maybe the people involved could let their only Sex Working character have the same amount dignity from his shows (outside of all the cringe ass marketing) that he's allowed to have within the actual canon? For five seconds?! 💀

I don't like using the term "brainrot" at the best of times, but the leftover hunicast brainrot feels so real right now and I can't believe that little mouth covering emoji ether. Like she's aware of exactly how she's making things sound, she has to be, and in this case it's the sheer tonal dissonance of it all that's really quite tactless of her and actually unfunny. It's in poor taste, even. This shows marketing is constantly eating itself and ruined everything for everyone trying to promote this show to any actual adults outside of fandom spaces and I'm starting to agree about our little emo girlypop needing a social media manager. This is legit the most cringe, most unprofessional thing I've ever seen her do now regarding her own staff remembers outside of expecting her own fans and supporters to act as her personal therapists on her patreon and tumblr, which is something she should've especially kept nuked and never reopened, considering she (rightfully so) doesn't seem to particularly care for it, since she hasn't actually updated it, as far as aesthetically speaking, in years.

And again, if any Antis or ~"criticals"~ attempt interaction with this post, I will shoot you in the foot, just like this shows shitty marketing keeps doing to poor Angel outside of his actual canon. So no wonder why he doesn't like his feet then, l o l! 🤭