#its the funniest thing I've seen

[saturniidd]

ever since trump got shot my friend keeps dming me biden x trump fanfic every single day

[caramelldansenu]

[todaviia]

.

[chicago-geniza]

More pictures of the Liberties editorial offices were posted…here is what I could glean from the bookshelves and general decor…please let me into your HQ, I need to make a semiotic survey, for my Fake Thesis,

[pinejay]

my fav thing is when my mom comes back from the woods and excitedly tells me abt a new bird she saw and describes it to me and i'm like [checks autism compendium of northeastern birds in my head] "was it a rose breasted grosbeak?" or "was it a dark eyed junco?" and she'll be like omg i think you're right [googles it] YES THAT'S IT!!

[leatherbookmark]

i had op blocked so ray’s rebloggathon was tragically Absent from my dash but now that i caught up, *hyeju voice* el oh el

[blurr2blurr]

[twnpkdinhighschool]

Ascension (2021)

[directdogman]

Ensnared (A Dialtown short story)

A warm haze emanated from the lush, leafy membrane that surrounded a distinctive balcony in Washington, DC, the light barely permeating the dim stillness of yet another cool morning. Peering towards this rising gleam sat a man in a pale damson suit, the distant glint barely reflected on the surface of his metallic face.

The pervasive hush was cut short by a doorway opening behind the seated man, and from the doorway, a lean man wearing a worn bowler hat and a matching brown plaid suit emerged. The seated man didn't avert his gaze from the horizon, but shifted his posture, anticipating a conversation would unfold. The man in the bowler hat paced hesitantly towards his seated accomplice.

"Mornin', Cal." the man in the bowler hat murmured, his hushed voice almost a whisper, "You get much sleep?" "I got enough." Crown replied tersely. The man in the plaid suit remained silent for a moment, before fracturing the silence with another question. "You spoken to Marla yet?" he asked, his voice trembling ever so slightly. The seated man replied by finally turning to face his partner, raising the mug of coffee in his hand with a warm, but muted enthusiasm.

"The papers are talking about Hoover again." the man in the bowler hat added, his glance shifting towards the ground. The seated man flicked his left hand dismissively. "Let 'em talk!" he scoffed, "The man's yesterday's news. Folks'll move on once there's something else for 'em to talk about!" The man in the hat nodded hesitantly and another prolonged silence followed suit. Crown chuckled to himself, his gaze averted forward yet again.

"Y'know, Milt... It's the funniest thing." the metallic man stated, "I came out here not twenty minutes ago and while I was having my morning coffee, I noticed the damndest thing on this very balcony." Milt's eyes shifted to his collaborator, his interest now piqued. Crown continued. "The tiniest fly I think I've ever seen in my life - caught in a little spider web, over on those railings." he said, raising his gauntlet to point to the metallic bars separating their balcony from the rest of the world. "No spider in sight, naturally. Good news for the fly, perhaps." Crown added. "Must've been off doing other things, y'know?" Milt replied, a smile barely creeping across the corners of his lips, "Doing whatever spiders get up to when we're not sitting around watching 'em, I guess." Crown leaned forward towards the balcony, as if he hadn't heard Milt's reply.

"So, naturally, I inched closer and extended my hand, so I could sever the threads and save the fly from its predicament!" Crown stated, enthusiasm seeping into his tone yet again. He paused for a moment following this and turned his head to meet Milt's gaze for a second time. "But, as I got a closer look, I realized that the fly wasn't just CAUGHT in the web..." Crown added, his metallic hand clenching with each stressed word, "But, ENSNARED by it." Milt's left eye tightened, curious to see where his partner was going with his tale.

"Its body COMPLETELY bound in minute silk threads..." Crown then stated, staring back over at the web. "And then it dawned on me." he added, "Even IF I were to break the threads connecting the fly to the web, relinquishing it from the spider's immediate grasp, well..." Crown turned his head, his dial locking with Milt's eyes for another solitary moment.

"The fly was still bound from head to toe, y'know?" he stated, his voice almost cracking. A barely distinguishable twinge of concern flashed across Milt's face, as Crown turned again to look at the web. "I mean, even IF the fly wasn't fixed to the web itself, it couldn't fly, couldn't move and surely once the spider came back..." Crown stated, his voice now trailing off, "Well, the fly was a goner."

"And again, this was the tiniest fly I reckon I've ever seen!" Crown boasted, enthusiasm returning to his tone, as his metallic hand jolted forward. "There was absolutely no way I could've broken the fine threads covering its body without harming and possibly dismembering the fly." he added, turning back to face Milt, a hint of regret in his tone. Crown noticed Milt's eyes quickly avert to his metallic hand. "Even WITH my organic hand." he hastily corrected. Milt nodded silently, the bottom of his lips pursed.

"I could observe its predicament, even delay the inevitable..." Crown murmured, "But no single movement I could make was deft enough, delicate enough to free the fly without subjecting it to an equally gruesome fate." Crown's tone shifted, as if describing witnessing an event of abject unfairness.

"For that moment, we were interconnected!" the metallic man proclaimed, "Two beings separated TOTALLY and UTTERLY by a vast expanse of scale..." Crown's gaze shifted towards the floor dejectedly, his hunched neck communicating that his mindset was now one of bargaining. "Even IF I'd sat patiently and waited for the spider to come back, crushed it in my hand..." Crown added, his metallic hand tensing once again, "It wouldn't have changed the outcome one iota." Crown's tone hushed.

"The fly was dead the moment it entered the web." he murmured, concern now visibly plastered across his partner's face. "In that moment, my strength made me powerless to change ANYTHING for the fly." the seated man stated, as his metallic hand thrusted incredulously. "I couldn't do a THING." Crown enunciated. "Despite the sheer difference in our current situations..." the seated man shared, his posture shifting backwards into a pensive lean, "The phenomenal discrepancy in our respective circumstances..." Crown trailed off and a moment of hushed stillness followed. "We were BOTH trapped..." he mused, "Equally bound by possibility." Milt winced, sensing inner turmoil within his comrade. "And then..." Crown added, his shoulders arching as he shifted in his seat, "That got me thinking..." The metallic man turned to face his accomplice.

"Presuming he exists, of course..." Crown pondered, his voice now hushed and uncertain, "I wonder if God sees all of us the same way." Milt's grimace hardened as his eyes shifted towards the fine white residue on the table next to his partner.

"Cal..." Milt murmured, his right hand now planted on the back of his neck, "You've really gotta lay off of that stuff."

[tinytalkingtina]

Fancy Falling Into You Here

Written for the August @steddiemicrofic prompt, using the word "plug" and 437 words.

437 words | Rating T | Ao3 link

On their first date, Steve and Eddie come to realize they had first met under much more embarrassing circumstances.

Tags: EMT Steve, Coffee shop owner/clumsy Eddie, first date, minor injuries (nothing described in detail), modern AU, embarrassment, BBC's Sherlock haunting all of us when plugging in our phones

Inspired by @dreamwatch for making me think of steddifying this post! Author's notes under the cut

"G-d damn BBC Sherlock," Eddie grumbled as he fumbled plugging his phone into its charging cable for a third time. "Stupid Benedict Cumberbatch and his weird attractive cheekbones." 

A snort from the couch reminded him he actually had company, oops.

Eddie gave his date a grin. "Sorry, I'd love to say that I'm normally as graceful as a swan or something, but as you've seen, unfortunately abject clumsiness is par for the course. It's a miracle my coffee shop's still standing."

It was fine. He could still salvage this and come off as less of a disgruntled sad wet cat man to Smooth Hottie with Glasses and That ButtTM of daily matcha latte with oat milk order fame. Still, Hottie (who went by "Steve", apparently) didn't really seem turned off by Eddie's whole deal. He just laughed.

"Oh, trust me, I've seen much worse. My first year as an EMT, we got a call to a college dorm. This unlucky dude fell off the top bunk and somehow broke both legs and an arm.”

Eddie froze, his quest to charge his phone completely forgotten.

“Plus the guy managed to down the shade on the way too, honestly it was an impressive amount of damage from a 4 foot drop," Steve continued on, oblivious. “One of the funniest calls me and my partner have gotten, and we once had to take care of someone who accidentally fell on a Buzz Lightyear toy and somehow got it stuck up their—you okay man?"

"I panicked and thought the cord would hold my weight." Eddie hid his face in his hands.

"Oh shit. You're 'broke all his bones man'?”

This was a nightmare. "Oh my G-d, I was so woozy. Please tell me I didn’t say anything weird.”

“You asked if I could ‘kiss your booboos better.’ Guess you’ve grown out your hair since?”

"I had to buzz it all off that semester because I had an Incident with some gum," Eddie groaned. "You can go now, I won't hold it against you."

He heard Steve slide closer. "And what makes you think your whole 'Bambi on ice' thing isn't working for me?"

Eddie cracked open an eye. "You sure about that?"

"Pretty sure," he said with a wink. "Plus, if you meet my friend Robin, she's known me since high school. Which means she unfortunately has photos of my braces years. You’re gonna have to stick around long enough to see em."

Eddie stared. Smooth Hottie still wanted him somehow? "Okay Big Boy, looks like I will." 

Steve smiled back. “Good. Now, lean back, I owe you a few kisses.”

Authors notes:

In case you weren't on Tumblr in the early-mid 2010's and remain blissfully unaware of BBC's Sherlock, please watch this clip to understand why Eddie is cursing Benedict Cumberbatch when he fails to plug in his phone fully sober

Eddie, Jeff, and Chrissy run a little coffee shop (complete with monthly open mic/karaoke nights) that EMTs Steve and Robin frequent. Not to worry, Robin will eventually meet her future wife Vickie at the shop after Vickie wins her heart with a rendition of "Before He Cheats."

Originally I had injured Eddie ask Steve about his biblically accurate angel form, but since I decided that Eddie's accident took place around 2010, and the angel meme only took off in 2020, I rewrote the line to be about kissing his booboos. Let's pretend this happens after a separate accident befalls Eddie (he'll be fine): Eddie: Ouch, I was out of it after they gave me the painkillers. I think I called you an angel? Steve: Yeah, you asked if my biblically accurate form had eyes as pretty as my human ones.

[idliketobeanalbatross]

I'm being so serious when I say these frames are the funniest thing I've seen in my fucking life

Its literally perfect.

1.Her uniform not matching and having been reused from the time her boss tried to start a maid cafe

2.The hollow starving look in her eyes (she literally adores food and money in the same way) (Homegirl is already down to eat the rich ig)

3.The way they quietly escort her away from Saiko. Chances are he didn't even notice that she was there (no way that kid observes the help.)

4.The way none of her friends notice her literally being dragged away by security.

5. The fact that Saiki actually did notice did notice and Could Not Care Less.

[diamondcitydarlin]

diving back into msscribe lore made me remember this; imo one of the funniest things about the My Immortal fanfic is the context to which it was born in the HP fandom at the time. In the early 2000's, HP fandom was a veritable arms race of who could write 'the best' most 'sophisticated' HP fanfic and the BNFs (Cassandra Clare, for example) were elevated to their pedestals because they were seen as the most talented fic writers. There were pissing contests, passive-aggressive comments about so-and-so being 'a mediocre fic writer' just shared between supposed 'friends', like one's popularity currency absolutely depended on whether or not the fandom deemed one's writing 'good enough'. Everyone was trying to be the goddamn idk Jane Austen of HP fandom pretty much. Even by 2006 (and msscribe's fall from grace, if you even care lol) this was still more or less the case- so the fact that this absolute unrepentantly bad HP fanfic came out during that time, the fact that Tara just kept posting chapters and doubling-down on people's criticisms and abject horror, the fact that this fanfic gave NO FUCKS about spelling, grammar, keeping characters intact, or even the original context of HP at all makes My Immortal's existence so much funnier than it already is on its lonesome. My Immortal was a slap in the fucking face to the entire established system and it reveled in being so.

Tellingly, I think, most people online today aren't going to know those 'popular', supremely 'well-written' fics off the top of their head, but even some IRL people I've talked with know and love My Immortal. Hell, Tom Felton has read it for his IG! Amy Lee either read or reacted to it a few of years back! It has it's own wikipedia, countless illustrations, works inspired by it and a cult following even today! I can't say the same for any of those fanfics that came before!

Whether My Immortal was a skilled troll or an unapologetic teenage girl that was going to write whatever the hell she wanted to, goddamn it, doesn't really matter because the effect was the same. Maybe remember that the next time you're agonizing over whether or not your writing is 'good enough'. Sometimes, it doesn't even need to be.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Five -- The Conversation

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of but please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,324

Previous Part: Chapter Four -- Vox

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I've just had a lot of people asking for part five of this series.

The shadows released Alastor and Y/n in his old studio. They melted into the ground around them as Y/n smiled brightly, her eyes traversing the familiar space.

"Happy to be back?" Alastor asked, watching her excitment fondly and Y/n nodded.

"I most certainly am. This is the most fun I've had in ages."

"More fun than murder?"

"Fucking with Vox like that? Definitely more fun than murder. That was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time."

"That's why you're lucky to have me around."

"Hey, you're the one who left, not me. You don't need to convince me I like spending time with you. Rather, you are in a need to be proving your care for me I should think."

"Am I, my dear?" Alastor crooned, leaning in slightly with his hands behind his back.

"Yes, you are."

He laughed.

"Well, I will have to get on that."

As Alastor approached the desk, his horns sprouting in shadows from his head, she made her way over to the corner of the space covered in of pillows and blankets. Hitting the pillows, they released a cloud of dust. Y/n shrugged slightly, waving the dust away from her nose before sitting down.

Alastor held his microphone to his mouth, recommencing his recording.

"Lets begin." Alastor announced as he sat down in his chair and began fiddling with the knobs on the table, "I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone, tune on in."

Y/n spotted her old crocheting project she'd started seven years before and smiled. Taking it in her hands, she began to continue her previous work.

"When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run." Alastor continued, his demon form becoming even wilder and sharp at its edges.

"This will be fun." Y/n mused, watching him carefully.

Alastor turned to her, his smile sickeningly wide.

"Yes, it will be."

It was just like the old days. Alastor broadcasted his show while Y/n watched, working on whatever craft project was nearest to keep her hands busy. There was a deep seated comfort rising in her soul, a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in years.

Every once in a while over the course of his show, Alastor would turn his head back towards her. Y/n wasn't sure if he was checking in or making sure she hadn't left. Either way, she didn't care. After about three hours, Alastor at last signed off.

As soon as he hit the button that stopped his broadcast, Y/n placed her crocheting to the side. Getting to her feet, she walked over to him and took a seat on the desk, smiling brightly.

"What did you think, my dear?" Alastor asked, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at her.

"Amazing as always, Al. I swear, your voice was made for the air waves."

Alastor laughed lightly at this comment.

"I missed it. I missed you."

"I found myself missing you too, my dear. I had become so used to your constant presence, it was an odd thing to suddenly be alone."

"You like me!" Y/n teased in a singsong voice and Alastor smiled back at her, "Admit it!"

"Perchance. So, seven years." Alastor sighed.

"Seven years." Y/n confirmed.

"You work for an imp now? Seems an odd turn of events."

Y/n shrugged, turning her head to look out the window at the street far below.

"Blitzo is a friend. He helped me out a lot when you first left."

"So you joined his little team? How sinful, breaking the law and going to the living world to reap souls for paying customers."

Y/n turned back to him.

"I didn't realize you knew that much about what we did."

"I have my sources."

"Husk? Are your sources Husk? He's the only one that knows what it is I do now from the old crowd."

Alastor didn't reply.

"It's for sure Husk. How is he doing?"

"Y/n." Alastor warned, "Answer the question."

She sighed, kicking her legs slightly.

"I mean, nothing we do is technically legal." she admitted, "None of them have human disguises and our way to the human world is a book Blitzo stole from a fucking Goetia."

"You don't say." Alastor mused, "That would happen to have anything to do with this contract you're under."

Y/n's eyes locked with Alastor in silence. They glared sharply at one another in a battle of will. At last, Y/n relented.

"Yeah. It does."

"So, what is it? Why does a member of the Goetia family own your soul. Why is it that you have fallen so far."

"You really aren't gonna let this one go."

Alastor shook his head.

"Blitzo... well he was friends with the guy. Stolas, one of the Goetia princes in charge of the heavens or some shit. It's... Basically, I made a deal that if Stolas stays away from Blitzo and let us use the book, I would give him my soul."

"How altruistic. Though not unexpected from you, I suppose."

"It was only a few months after you left, Al. I couldn't take him on. Hell, you can't even take him on. He's a fucking Goetia. I did... I couldn't think of anything else. I did what I had to do to keep my friend safe."

"And why did he deserve your protection? He dug his grave and instead of lying in it, put you in."

"It's not his fault. Stolas got all weird with stuff and Blitzo was uncomfortable. There's this big threat of him tattling on us he hangs over our heads at all times. I... Blitzo did so much for me, Al. He helped me pick up the pieces of my life when it was clear you weren't coming back. I've become better now, stronger but back then, it was all I could do for him."

Alastor opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Y/n's phone buzzing.

"Sorry, gimme a second."

Alastor eyed the device in irritation as she pulled it from her pocket. Whatever was on the screen dampened her mood even further than their conversation had. She jumped down off the table, hurriedly typing something out on her phone.

"Shit, Al. I have to go, I'm sorry."

"Work?"

"Sorta."

"Ah. Your deal. Why does he not just pull you to him like a normal demon would."

"Well," Y/n began, sliding her phone back into the pocket of her dress, "first off, he's a hellborn not a demon. And second off he has this weird thing about being wanted? Well, not weird. Everyone wants to be wanted just like, he doesn't want to force me to come. At the same time, he knows if he asks for me, I have to. It's... he's complicated, Alastor. It's complicated."

"I could kill him for you. Make it a whole lot less complicated."

Y/n laughed.

"Thanks hun but I don't think even you could manage that one."

"You could make a deal with me, that would most likley cancel it out."

"And have you own my soul? No, I've seen how that pans out for people. I think I'll pass."

"Just a suggestion, my dear."

"Is it? You've been trying to make a deal with me since I first met you, Al. I feel like you shoulda caught the hint by now."

"It was worth a try." he shrugged.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Why is it you want my soul so badly anyways?"

"No reason. No reason at all."

"Yeah. I totally believe that."

Y/n's phone dinged again and she pulled it once more from her pocket. At the sight of the words on the screen she sighed, her brow furrowing in irritation.

"Pushy pushy." she hummed, "Look, I gotta go. I'll be back later."

And with those parting words, Y/n disappeared through the studio's door.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Six -- Stolas

[spookberry]

One of the funniest/dumbest literal thinking autism moments of my childhood happened when I was in 2nd grade. I was going to a new school so I was made to do a bunch of assessments to see where I placed in different subjects. I was most excited for the reading one cuz at my old school I was the best reader in my class, and I wanted to show off.

The lady testing me hands me this little short story and asks me to read it aloud.

And for some reason that I still don't understand to this day, a bunch of the words randomly had like lines or dots above the vowels. Which idk seems like an unnecessary and confusing thing to include when testing a 7 year old. Like you're gaslighting them into thinking theres extra letters in the alphabet. So obvi I ask what the symbols mean cuz I've never seen them in this context. She sorta brushes me off and says, word for word, "those mean you just say the letters name"

What she undoubtedly meant was: "on those words, the letter highlighted will sound like what its called. O with the line sounds O and not uh or ew or whatever"

What I understood was "Just Say the Letters Name"

So anyways i proceeded to read the story aloud, stopping suddenly every other word to pause cuz I wasnt supposed to say bow i was supposed to say o. I know for a fact at one point I just said a word and then stopped and repeated the sentence with just the letter so she HAD to've known I'd misunderstood her. But she said absolutely nothing. I remember walking outta there feeling like a complete idiot, and feeling so embarrassed when later they told my mom my reading skills were an entire grade behind where I should've been. But also looking back at it like wtf how could theyve possibly gotten an accurate understanding of my reading ability under those conditions.

[waldau-archived]

hello!! big fan here! i think you’re super talented and cool 🫶🏼 can i perhaps request a friends to lovers thing for vernon? do you think he’d be the first one to break and confess or would it be you? if it’s the latter, how does he react? any thoughts on this would be fine really, even if you don’t want to make it into a full fledged story. just love talking about and thinking about vernon.

darling anon i think you broke my brain because i've never written so much in a single day (also thank you so much!!! <3). i love vernon and i've kind of been in a vernon spiral myself recently. i hope you like this :)

chroma — chwe hansol | 2,520 words | fluff

chroma (noun) — the purity of a colour, or its freedom from white or grey. reader and vernon are best friends who SCREAM become lovers. briefly ft dokyeom.

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

at first glance, you and vernon are opposites.

not exactly grumpy and sunshine opposites, but if you're both the same colour, you're a shade or two brighter than him. which means that you're similar with different energy levels, and honestly? you love your dynamic.

your friends notice that outside of the group, you're the one he's the closest to — so it only makes sense that he's also the one you're the closest to.

he's always near you whenever you're hanging out with your friends — whether you're sitting right next to each other or across the room, he meets your eyes from time to time, if only to check in on you, or to allude to an inside joke when someone speaks.

(you have way too many inside jokes; an unhealthy amount, even.)

he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely. or you crash at each other's places for the night if you're too tired.

you always look forward to whenever he gets random bursts of energy and proceeds to tell you about stuff he finds interesting. but you also use him as a pillow when he becomes extremely quiet, and honestly? it's pretty easy to co-exist with vernon regardless of the silence or the lack of it, because you always match his energy.

he sends you pictures of whatever he thinks you'll like, whether it's a meme or a sunset, but sometimes he sends you stuff he likes — like a cool monument he saw in new york or his cat or a picture of two snails on the side of the road with the caption "us?"

seriously, opening his texts is like a wild card (in a good way).

he always makes it a point to drop you home. always. unless your other friends are around, in which case he won't rest till you send him a text saying you got home safely.

you're slightly more affectionate than him, which is something he doesn't mind.

he's not the first to initiate hugs, but you can trust that he's always going to find your hand for a high five or a fist bump or a quick side hug.

if you're sitting together on the couch listening to music or watching something on the television, he lets you loop your arm through his like it's something you do every day (which it most definitely is).

vernon wasn't very physical in the beginning of your friendship, but now you're used to a light brush of his hand against yours, your shoulders bumping for a second or two, a poke to your cheek — just your things.

now the thing is this: you have a crush on vernon. a huge crush that doesn't seem to be going away any time soon.

"i knew it!" dokyeom says shrilly, and you wince. you love him, but you're not sure if he's capable of keeping your secret.

"was it that obvious?"

"of course it was! i've seen the way you look at him. like he's the funniest guy in the room, even if he's not. or like he's the hottest guy in the room. which he—"

"—is," you finish, and bite your tongue. dokyeom doesn't need to know exactly how in deep you are.

dokyeom shakes his head. "i can't believe he doesn't know."

"kyeom, if you tell him, i swear—"

"i won't! i kind of want to see how long it takes for him to realize."

"i don't think he will," you say, looking over to where vernon is sitting on the couch and arguing with seungkwan and seungcheol about the best movie from 2008.

"how do you know that?"

you shrug. "i've tried dropping subtle hints. he's just...oblivious."

dokyeom follows your gaze and sighs. "he really is. but if you ask me," he says, turning to raise an eyebrow. "this really could go somewhere."

every year, you spend valentine's day together.

it started as a joke the first time — vernon's date somehow cancelled on him at the last moment, and he showed up to your place with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates.

you thought your heart was going to fall out of your body, but he sheepishly explained he didn't know where else to go, or who else to give them to.

it turned into a rant about how he didn't believe in or care about the holiday anymore.

but now it's your tradition to enjoy each other's company rolling your eyes and booing at cheesy movies.

(you wish they'd come to life, specifically with vernon, but he doesn't have to know.)

he isn't the best at comforting you with words. you learned that a long time ago and know it well even now. yet he's the first person you turn to when something's wrong.

you're wrapped in a blanket on vernon's sofa, a hot mug of cocoa in front of you next to a bowl of snacks, but your mind isn't on any of them. why, you think. why, why, why me. you feel terrible for the space you're occupying, even though you've curled up into a ball.

"hey," vernon says from above you, and the next thing you know, you're pulled into him. "i don't know what to say to make it better, and...i don't know what else i can do, but tell me, okay?"

you nod.

"i'm sorry."

you stop crying at that, trying to blink away your tears but failing. "why?"

"he was a dick, and you never deserved someone so shitty."

you try to inhale, but it's shaky. "i'm just...so tired," you say, resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't know why i keep attracting idiots like him. and i hate that you always have to see me like this."

"like this?"

"in pieces. crying. whatever."

"you're not in pieces," vernon says, running his hand over your back. "you're sad. it happens. and i don't mind being here, okay? i'm always here. sorry."

you snort. "you've apologized more to me than he's ever done at this point."

"now you know who to keep around longer," vernon smiles.

you wonder if vernon's aware of the things he does. he talks to you like there's no one else he'd rather be with at the moment. he bends down to meet your eyes when you're talking about something, and you're amazed he hasn't noticed you short-circuiting in the middle of your sentences more than a few times now. he finds the most random things to give you every now and then.

"huh?"

"pebble. reminded me of pou."

"pou? vernon, that was so long ago!"

"do you want me to skip this rock?"

"no, wait—"

fights with him aren't really fights, because one of you always caves in and has to make up.

"your neck's going to hurt," you hear vernon say softly, probably trying not to wake you up. but you weren't really asleep in the first place.

"why do you care?" you grumble, sitting up straight and wincing when your neck does, in fact, hurt.

"i don't hate you just because we had a fight," he says, pulling you down to rest your head on his chest. "sore necks suck."

you chew on your cheek for a while, not wanting to say the words you know are inevitable. "fighting with you sucks, too."

he says nothing; just hugs you tighter.

you're surprised at how well you've adapted to vernon going out on dates.

it wasn't easy, you'll admit. at first it felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest while also being crushed, but now it's okay (maybe because he hasn't been dating as much recently — you can't remember the last one he even went on).

you're nothing if not a supportive best friend, so you're okay with the few times his dates go well enough to tell you about.

you teasingly tell him not to give you too many details, but you wonder if he knows why you really ask that of him.

both of you act like a married couple, according to your friends. it made you blush at first, but there's no point reacting to it anymore because it's just not true. vernon doesn't like you the way you like him, and the way you're affectionate with each other is...hard to explain. just friends, you say, even though you wish you were more.

"you're dishgushting," dokyeom says, mouth stuffed full of pizza while he pours himself some coke.

you give him a look. "you or me?"

dokyeom nods, chewing aggressively before swallowing his bite. "you. and vernon. can't stop giving each other those eyes all the time. makes me sick."

"...eyes?"

"like you need a room or something. like there's no one else in here with you guys."

"we don't do that, kyeom."

he snorts inelegantly. "ask anyone. you're lucky jeonghan hasn't snitched on you yet."

and maybe, just maybe, vernon treats you somewhat differently than he treats his friends.

you always get the first bite of his food, always listen to new vinyls he gets on the weekends, sprawled out on the floor and letting the music seep into your skin, always get to steal his hoodies whenever you're cold — you can't think of any other friend of his who gets the same treatment.

but that's just best friend privilege.

at least that's what you tell yourself.

after vernon comes back from his latest tour, he becomes more touchy with you — resting a hand on your thigh, tracing the shell of your ear, linking pinkies with you.

maybe it's just his way of reconnecting with you after being away for so long.

but doesn't he realize what he's doing to your heart?

probably not, you think, when he wraps his arms around your waist one morning when you're in front of his vinyl collection, trying to pick something you think you'll like.

"sol?" you ask, patting his hands before resuming browsing through his shelf.

"hey."

"what's up?"

"tired."

"shouldn't you be in bed, then?"

"you weren't there."

you pause, the magdalene vinyl in your hand threatening to fall before you place it back. "i'm never there."

"wanna change that?"

"what?"

"what."

you think it's some silly pick-up line he's trying to test on you, so you gently push him back to his bedroom, threatening to leave his home if he doesn't sleep for a few more hours.

but it doesn't end there.

those pick-up lines pop up in the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected company. you shake your head and laugh them off, but you wonder why he's behaving like this.

there's one possible explanation for it, but you're not going to let yourself walk down that path. not unless he does it first.

vernon's quiet on the walk back to your car from the supermarket, half your groceries with you and the other half with him. he doesn't say anything when you point out his shoelace is untied, or his hair is sticking up a bit weirdly for his liking, or even the fact that there's a cat sitting right next to your car before it skitters away a few seconds later.

you're not worried. vernon does have those moments where he zones out so hard no one can get him back for a while, and this seems to be one of them.

"i love you," he finally says.

your hand fumbles with the grip of your bag. not cool, not when there's a couple of glass jars in there. there's going to be nothing cute to put the cookies in if you break them now.

"i love you too?" you offer, because it's not uncommon for you to say it to each other. it's just that vernon's never brought it up unprompted before.

"no. not how you think."

not how you think? how...

oh.

you can only stare at vernon, mind running a million miles an hour while he refuses to look at you, suddenly finding interest in that untied shoelace.

"love me love me?"

he nods, almost imperceptible if you weren't looking for it. it gives you a sudden boost of courage, of happiness, of everything good. you weren't wrong, after all. you put the rest of the groceries in the trunk and turn to face him.

you've seen this sight hundreds of times before — vernon with his messy hair, in this very hoodie with jam stains on the left sleeve, and those brown eyes that light up from the inside when the sun hits them just the right way and make him look like the most handsome man in the world — but it's like you've been seeing the world, even vernon, in monochrome till he said those words.

chroma.

"oi," you say, grabbing his face in your hands. "sol."

he just blinks.

"are you sure? absolutely sure?"

"yeah," he says, voice a bit rougher than usual, and you see yourself in his eyes for a moment. "i am. but i'm sor—"

you shut him up with a quick peck to his lips, uncaring of who might be seeing you right now. you know you're going to be embarrassed about it, squeal about it to dokyeom, bury your face in your pillow and question if any of it was real, but right now, it doesn't matter.

you've shocked vernon, for once. it feels good. he's staring at you with his mouth open, hands clutching your wrists like there's no tomorrow.

"you're not the only one," you explain, all bravado fizzling out when his full focus lands only on you.

"oh? yeah?" he asks, pulling you closer.

"mm."

he rubs his thumb across one of your wrists. "do you have eggs?"

"...what?" back to regularly scheduled programming, then. trust vernon not to make it weird.

"eggs. or ice cream. anything that needs the fridge. because i want to take you out on a date right now."

some things change: vernon becomes your boyfriend. you move in together a few months later. it's not the first time you've met his mother, but you're still nervous.

but the best thing of all is that he's yours now.

he even tells you how he realized he loved you back.

"i just...remembered you arguing with me about whether penne or fusilli was better, and my only thought was, i want this with you. for however long i could have it. i think i just loved you for so long, but...i didn't realize it was that love. i finally understood why kyeom-hyung kept telling me to get my shit together."

"sol—"

"no one knows me like you do and i don't want anyone else to. yeah."

"sol, babe, i was just asking if you want me to take out the trash."

"you...oh," he says, grinning in that shy way he does. "thought you asked me if i wanted you. but hey, if i'm trash for you, you're legally obligated to take me out, right?"

i've never put pictures before but he's SO boyfriend material, look at him

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

[dmbakura]

as someone who became interested in Stellar Blade when its 2022 trailer dropped (where its name was changed from Project Eve) watching the lead up to the game become hijacked by the incel squad claiming it was gonna be the downfall of modern gaming because it brought back sexy female protagonists, to the subsequent "censorship" (it is not censorship) debacle that saw most of the same squad turning on the game, and the entire conversation surrounding the game in general, has been maybe the funniest, most bewildering thing to witness.

on one hand you have the incel gooners trying to use the game as a political mouthpiece to push a certain agenda, usually being misogynistic or bigoted in other ways in the process. also mixed in are misguided critiques of certain double standards (example, regarding bg3 and how it handles sexual content vs stellar blade and its fanservice) and just overall a lack of actual care for the game outside of using it as a bludgeoning tool in their dumb culture war.

on the other hand you have people who only know this game through the conversation the incel gooners have started and think the game is some hentai coomer simulator with no other substance. I believe this group is mostly well intentioned, but at the same time are allowing the incel gooners to be the authority on the game and aren't doing any actual research of their own. I have seen so many people gobsmacked that stellar blade has actual polished gameplay and that the sexy costumes/boob jiggle aren't at all representative of the game as a whole. there's definitely some good faith critiques of the character design mixed in here, but also please stop allowing the gooners to shape your perception of the game and letting them dominate the conversation.

and finally you have people like me who have ACTUALLY PLAYED the game (in my case I'm 22 hours in so I haven't finished it yet) and know what the game is actually about. it's a highly polished single player action game, with no microtransactions, on console (which is a HUGE deal in the Korean market, which is dominated by mobile games) and it's overall just a really fun experience. the sexy stuff you can take or leave, there's a bunch of costumes that cover her up if you don't like the skimpiness, but aside from the blatant fanservice with Eve, it's just about the most sexless game I've played in a while. seriously, there's not even romantic hints, aside from a female shopkeeper hitting on Eve.

anyways, it's just interesting (and borderline incomprehensible) what the conversation surrounding this game has become lol