#or have fuckall idea how to make them up lol

[absolute-snzaster]

g

welp I've officially gone from "I'm too tired to be answering asks" to "I'm so tired that answering asks seems like a good idea." also I'm super late to this one so for context it's in response to this post which was in response to this post. that's totally still open btw if anyone wants to yeet some consonants my way.

g is a good one. g is interesting. g has two distinct use cases, that I can think of. the first one is stifling. stifles can be absolute clusterfucks of consonants, and g takes pride of place in no small number of them. a stifle runs into a g. trips over it, sometimes. if it's unlucky, falls flat on its face into a half- or failed stifle. observe:

"hngxt! ngkt! hng'tch! hh'GXTshoo!"

or it starts with one: "gxt'chuh!"

the second case, and by far the one I favor because of course it is, is heavy congestion. a head so brimming with cold that every sound that comes out of it involves the coldfucker-coveted 'guh'. a set of nasal passages so blocked that any sneezes that come practically have to fight their way out—and not all of them make it. (this, of course, is what leads to congestion stifles, thereby bringing this post full circle.)

even the not-technically-stifled ones, though, can hardly be classified as fully let out. there's just too much in the way.

"ght'chUh... ghh'tchoo. ghhhHTSHooo... nguh..."

"ghhh... hh... HHGTSHhhooo!!! uhghh—SDFF, guh"

"agh'tchoo! aaaghttshhOOO!! oughh..."

the truly stifled ones, though, can range from barely audible, choked-off non-sounds: ggt! hgt! ng't!

to messy explosions so wet they could rival a depth charge.

"hg'CHHt! GHH'cht! HGHH'sChhHt! HHGHschht! EGSCHT! hiH'EGstCH! Ih'GsCHHt! huh-Hh-Ih'GSTchuh!"

"hh'GSCht! aht-GSCHiw! iht-GSCHT. GSCHIW!"

"GTCHhh-iewh... hhk'GHHtchhh-iew... ha'iGiSH-shiewwh!"

[ramrage]

(in the interest of) burning (everything down) ch4

cw: emetophobia--mentions of nausea, strong language, reference to alcohol abuse link to ao3

that awkward moment when you’re a terrible person who ruins everything

DAY 02 ~0600

Soap wakes up feeling foul, more hungover than he’s ever been. As if mocking him for his childish outburst, his body reminds him of his age. Nausea twists in his stomach, leaving him writhing. 

“There is no way I’m doing fuckall today,” he groans, solidifying it. “Fuck.” With another groan, he rolls to grab his phone off the nightstand, wincing against the headache, the vertigo, the cheery daylight. He’s still fucking drunk. Jesus. Every thorn is attached to a rose, though—he feels so crap that the flashbacks from last night sit safe, albeit menacingly, on the back burner. Survival and responsibilities first, rumination second. 

He taps out a message to Price:

Feelin ill, gotta rest this one off

Guilty eyes watch the screen expectantly, already regretting the text. He’s too old for this shit, too old to be shirking responsibilities like this, playing hooky so he can nurse a hangover he earned from a stupid decision made by a stupid heart. Lovesick like a fucking child. Impulsive and selfish like a fucking arsehole. 

Price’s response makes him feel several degrees worse.

rest it off then lad. will you be good for mission?  JP

Soap wants Price to tell him off, none of this understanding bullshit sent as if he was charged by the word, like a fucking dad. Why would he offer anything else, though? There’s no way he’d see the excuse for what it was, and he has no reason to even question it. He trusts Soap, and here he was, deceiving his Captain.

aye, should be fine by then. probably just a wee stomach bug

That’s close enough to the truth.

lol JP

Soap almost cracks a smile at that. At least Price can have a laugh at the thought of him being stuck in bed with the shits. He wants to say as much, but lets the conversation hang to better sell the charade. Instead, he likes the message and leaves it at that.

He’ll have to eat eventually. Sitting in bed doing fuckall is the worst thing for a hangover, but it’s not like he can leave his room, what with his imaginary stomach virus. A shower will do him some good. That, a paracetamol and a tall, tall glass of water might even make this only sort-of excruciating.

With that decided, he fights his way out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom. Yeah, no. He is definitely still drunk. With a larger than normal amount of difficulty, he turns on the shower after drawing the curtain closed with a messy snap, grabs the hem of his tee shirt to pull it off.

Damn. 

On his neck, chest, fucking everywhere, are lovebites and bruises. It’s hot, turns him on. Partially. But then he remembers that they’re solid proof of how good things were. Of how good that thing was, that thing that he fucked up less than 24 hours ago. Every mark stands for passion, and all of them will fade in time. He realizes belatedly that he told Simon he loved him, said it only because Simon brought love up first. 

His heart thrills at that because holy shit , does Simon love him back? Any pleasure with that realization withers as quickly as it bloomed because that shit’s in past-tense territory now. Did Simon love him back? What a precious bag to fumble. 

Soap swears, one part anger, several parts misery, and climbs into the shower. The hands that lather at his hair, scrub roughly at his skin are his own. He closes his eyes and pretends they aren’t.

He can indulge in a little delusion. As a treat.

“Fuck, do you know how good you look?” he asks himself, hands drawing firmly up opposite arms.

After a moment, he scoffs in response. “I’ve got an idea of it, yeah.”

Simon would groan like he’d just heard the worst shit of his life, so he groans, savors the weight of palms against his skin, over his shoulder, up his neck. He lets his thumb caress the junction of cheekbone and ear, fingers cradling the base of his skull. “Shut up, Johnny,” he whispers. Chiding and adoring, just like Simon would.

The sound of his own name coming from his own lips breaks the spell, but just for a moment. In that split second, he recognizes that this is desperation of the highest order. It just feels too good, and it’s not like anyone’s watching.

“I want to stay like this forever, Si,” he admits to the tile walls, and the fact that he says it is a testament to the fantasy. He’d never tell Simon as much because lord knows the man would take well to something like that, even if he was in love. If . But this is fantasy and nothing has to be realistic, has to crush delicate things the way life does. 

He brings his other hand to rest atop his chest. “We can’t justify that water bill,” he responds, but just below the surface is “Yes, I’d like that.” Spend enough time with Simon Riley and you pick up on speaking in subtext.

The water takes on a salty flavor. “Please tell me this isn’t fucked up beyond repair.”

“Of course it isn’t,” is what he wants to say, wants to hear, but his imagination isn’t so wild. Instead, the answer is running water, shifting slowly from hot, then to warm, then to cool. Somewhere around 23°C he considers telling imaginary-Simon he loves him but for real, heart-felt and earnest and how you’re supposed to tell someone you love them. Not like a throwing knife to the chest. 

His head throbs a bit less when he finally shuts the shower off, his stomach churns a bit less, too. it helps him recognize how hungry and fucked he is. It also reminds him that you don’t need to be plastered to fall prey to stupid, drunken whims.

He spends the rest of the day vacillating between calisthenics, dramatics, and cursing both the taste and texture of Pot Noodles.

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

[neepin]

does a little 👉👈 favorite side characters ? Like Larry, Bing, etc etc. Laurel doesn’t count she’s vip status

jumping up and down bc this is one of my favourite questions !!!!!! Thank you so much for asking

I’m a big fan of underrated characters, so I love going back to the side characters and developing a bit of a personality and role for them in the universe

I absolutely love Bing and Larry! So much so that I actually draw them a lot with laurel ahah! I can definitely imagine a scenario in which they’re a bit of a trio. They seem to like making films and laurel seems to want to be in a film, so im sure they’d get along very well. Plus! Considering Bing seems to have a lot of inventions, im sure he would be more than happy to bring Laurel back to life after realising just how outstanding(/sarc) their acting in space cats is. If he ever manages to watch it. I actually headcanon Bing to love especially bad films. Something about digging to the bottom of a bargain bin in a charity shop for crappy direct to dvd film just seems like something he’d do.

They’d get along me thinks !

Also Anna! oh my gosh I love Anna so much, I really should draw her more often

Matt and Anna, from what I understood, never really did break up. So I can imagine a situation in which they are still together, and both love each other very much. They met online, and weren’t very sure of one another initially, but begin to talk frequently and realise just how much they love one another’s company. She is a total computer nerd and probably works at CEX lol. In my head she lives in a flat on her own in london, so enjoys taking the train to see Matt and go on dates and whatnot. The others guys aren’t aware that they’re dating and probably never will until they get the wedding invites.

Another character I have particular interest in is, i've been told now her name is Essy

i know fuckall other than her working at an arcade, so thats what i go off of. I love the idea of an arcade worker character, im sure there is so much fun stuff to do with that. And given that she is, for the most part overlooked, not even having a wiki page? Even better. I’d imagine she’s a friend of Edd’s and they hang out and visit each other a lot. They’re very close but probably to a point where they couldn’t be anything other than that. I don’t think they’d take each other very seriously at all if they attempted dating.

I’m sure there are more but for now my head is very empty! I will make another post like this regarding underrated character headcanons in the future if anything else comes to mind :]

[atlabeth]

hold onto me (im a little unsteady) - sokka x reader

i was listening to the song when i came up w this so feel free to listen to that if you want

summary: a late night with sokka reminds you that even on the worst days, you always have someone in your corner.

a/n: lmao this is 100% self indulgent i have no excuses. my parents are getting divorced and almost every time they're together they argue and so this is just a comfort fic after it happened again tonight bc GD i wish i had a sokka. this one goes out to all my divorce babies or people with parents that never stop arguing. you are very loved<3

wc: 1.7k, this got away from me lol

warning(s): mentions of parents arguing n shit, like the tiniest mentions of implying sex and problems with consent (in general, not with them), but this is all fluff

hey. i know you’re probably asleep right now but could you come over?

It was far too late at night when you sent the text. A question asked on a whim, an offer that would most likely go ignored due to the boy on the other end being asleep.

But goddammit, you really didn’t care. Even if he didn’t respond, just hitting ‘send’ made you feel slightly better. You had already taken refuge in one of the sweatshirts he had left at your house (read: one that you had stolen and refused to give back) and as your eyes fell on the glow of the digital clock on your bedside table, you were once again reminded of how stupid this was.

But you heard the telltale buzz of a notification and all but lunged for your phone, an uncontrollable smile tugging on your lips. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him.

sokka💙: you know i never sleep babe

sokka💙: a curse of my genius

sokka💙: im omw

you’re the best thank you love<3

A pair of fuzzy socks and a refilled water bottle later, you heard the sound of something hitting your window. Though you tensed up at first, a roll of your eyes was all it took before you remembered just who you had invited over. Another smile took over as you pushed yourself off of your bed, pushing the curtains aside in time to see another pebble hit the pane.

A physical effort took place to stifle the laugh as you pushed your window up, and you leaned against the sill on your elbows to get a better look at your ridiculous boyfriend.

“Throwing rocks at my window? I think I’m stuck in a bad romcom.”

He grinned and let the remaining pebbles fall to the ground. “It’s what’s to be expected from your Prince Charming, right? Besides, I’m assuming that your parents wouldn’t just let me walk through the front door at this hour.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Just the sight of Sokka was always enough to make you feel better, and tonight was no exception. The vice on your heart was already starting to loosen. “Right as usual. Think you’ll catch me if I jump?”

He laughed and made a show of looking up and down the distance and then at his arms. “I’d like to say so, but I think we’d have better luck if I climb up.”

“You sure you can do that, big guy?” you asked with a teasing grin. He rolled his eyes with the same sentiment.

“Of course I can. I just thank nature that there’s a tree so close to your window. It’s saved me from a lot of embarrassing falls.”

You chuckled and backed away from the window, the slight chill from the night air beginning to get to you. “I’ll leave you to it while I get things ready.”

Truth be told, your room was a total mess at the moment. You knew Sokka wouldn’t care, especially not now, but it put you slightly more at ease to have something in your life that you could control. You were in the middle of shoving some previously strewn-about clothes into your closet when you heard the click of your window closing. When you turned around, you were met with your boyfriend’s smiling face.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured as you walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you kissed him lightly on the lips, unable to stop the blossoming smile nor the warmth that the action gave you. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course.” The softness of his words were in stark contrast to the joking bravado from only minutes earlier, and as you stepped away from his embrace and pushed yourself onto your bed, he joined you on the other side. “And not that I’m not happy to be here, but I just wanna know. What’s going on?”

You sighed, letting one leg hang off the bed as you tucked the other in. It was a testament to Sokka’s power how quickly he had gotten you to forget about the new mess of the night. “The usual showing of fuckall and fuckup. I’m more impressed by how they never run out of things to scream at each other about.”

Your bad joke didn’t get a laugh out of him, which you were secretly glad for. Instead, he snaked an arm around your back and tugged you closer, a contented sigh falling from your lips as you nestled your head into the space between his shoulder and his head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

The phrase had gone in one ear and out the other more times than you could count from your parents, but each time Sokka said it, the words held a different weight. You knew it wasn’t your fault in the first place, but guilt didn’t care all that much for logic. You knew he meant it though, and once more the vice loosened.

“I know. But it still helps to hear it.” You glanced up at him, reaching a hand up to twist a loose strand of his hair around your finger. “You should wear your hair down more often,” you mused. “It makes you look like a prince.”

He chuckled, amusement glinting through his ocean eyes. “I did say I was your Prince Charming, didn’t I?”

You smiled, slowly uncurling his hair from your finger. “Yeah.”

“That means I’ll always be there for you. Especially to save my royal from their evil stepparents.”

Another laugh bubbled in your chest at that, and you leaned closer into him. “Thank you. The more I visit your place, the more I want your family to be mine. Hakoda is like, the nicest man I’ve ever met, and your mom? She actually makes me want to cry with how sweet she is. I think I know where you get it from.”

He grinned and bumped your leg with his own. “You know you’re welcome over there any time. But maybe you shouldn’t — I think my mom might actually adopt you with how much she loves you. That… that would be really weird.”

His joy was infectious as you planted another kiss on his cheek, something that earned you a, as you liked to call it, dazzling Signature Sokka Smile. “I’ll make sure she holds off on the adoption papers for now.”

“I’d like that.”

And though the happiness you felt at the moment was almost overwhelming, that was just what caused that tiny sliver of doubt to come in. When people invited their partners over at three in the morning, it usually wasn’t to sit on the bed and talk about their problems. It was… it was for more, and you didn’t want that right now. And because you were an expert at it, you decided to put your foot in your mouth and start talking.

“I— I’m sorry that I called you over here so late, for no reason. I know you probably expected something else than me ranting, but…” you sighed, drawing your knees closer to your chest as you brought your other hand to Sokka’s resting on your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

He sighed at that, but you knew it wasn’t one of disappointment. “You know I’m here for you. I don’t care if you just want to sit in silence for the next five hours while we stare at the wall, or if you want to watch sappy rom coms until your eyes bleed. I’m more than okay with staying like this. I didn’t come over here because I expected anything from you — I came over here because you needed me, and so I’m here.” Sokka smiled, an image you didn’t think would ever stop making you melt, and intertwined your hand with his. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

You were so stunned at the brazen declaration that your voice got stuck in your throat for a moment, holding back tears. (Happy tears. They were never anything other than happy tears with Sokka.) It hit you then that you didn’t really know what it was like having someone get close to you without an ulterior motive.

“Thank you,” you murmured after a moment of comfortable silence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You knew he was smiling, even without having to look up at him. You could hear it in his voice, feel it in the kiss he pressed to your hairline.

A comfortable silence hung in the air for a long time until you broke it. “You know… my dad kinda ran off to a motel for the night after this whole thing, and my mom leaves early in the morning. If you were serious about those rom coms…” You allowed the unsaid question of staying the night to fester so Sokka knew he could say no if he wanted to, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Of course I was serious. I mean, I’ve gotta get the ideas for our future wedding from somewhere.”

You laughed, a sentiment that had occurred more times in the ten minutes he had been here than the past week, and picked the remote for your little box TV off of your bedside table. You clicked through various movies until you found one Sokka liked, and then you cuddled deeper into his side to prepare for the ride you had ahead of you.

Thirty minutes into 27 Dresses, he had fallen asleep, arm still around you and one of his legs slightly intertwined with one of your own. But it’s not like you minded — the familiar weight of Sokka in your bed had caused all your worries to melt away, if only for the night.

You didn’t expect him to last past the first movie, but you were sure you would at least get through until Katherine Heigl got the man. But there was an overwhelming feeling of safety permeating the air with Sokka’s arms around you, and you ended up knocked out before she could even get through all twenty seven dresses.

It wasn’t lost on you how fortunate you were — he didn’t expect anything like that from you, he just wanted you to be safe. He was there for you. You would never understand how you had gotten so lucky with your boyfriend, but you would never stop being grateful for him.

-

this is the most self indulgent thing ive ever written and i am NOT sorry

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

atla tags: @marianne1806 @brown-eyed-thang @akiris

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb, part 5.1

Good thing I didn’t do something like a story arc with this series, bc that would be…well.

Zhang Chat

Zhang Rishan: Could we speak, Patriarch? It is a family matter.

Zhang Qiling: read 12:18pm

Unnamed chat

Zhang Rishan: Good afternoon. I am writing with regard to a development pertaining to a Zhang family heirloom. Its recent activity has provided some potential insight into a long-standing mystery about our family’s longevity. I would deeply appreciate it if you could have Zhang Qiling contact me at his earliest convenience.

Wu Xie: !!!!!!!!!!!

Wu Xie: sorry, I mean yes, absolutely. Is it at the tea house? Can I come too? We won’t break things this time, I swear.

Zhang Rishan: That would be entirely dependent on whether Zhang Qiling contacts me.

Zhang Chat

Zhang Qiling: …Pangzi has several phrases he uses in addressing persistent telemarketers. I believe the more vivid wordings apply to you today.

Zhang Rishan: I apologize for the somewhat underhanded machinations, but the matter is urgent. How much do you remember about the 1800s?

Zhang Qiling: Nothing. Why?

Men in Black Chat

Zhang Qiling: Has he contacted you?

Hei Yangjing: oh shit whaddup it’s dat xiaoge

in some parts of the world, ya know—people lead into conversations with dumbass small talk and actual context for their demands

i know it’s crazy but like lord what fools these mortals be and shit amirite

How’s bae and the loudmouth

Zhang Qiling: Your descriptor for Pangzi is somewhat hypocritical, I would argue. Wu Xie is well; he had a bad cold last week but has mostly recovered.

The Shakespeare reference is noted and appreciated. Although I personally prefer The Tempest.

Has he contacted you?

Hei Yangjing: omg this is a xiaoge trivia plot twist thx

although tbqfh I figured you’d be more into Romeo and Juliet

lmao get it

…too soon?

Zhang Qiling: Has he contacted you?

Hei Yangjing: sadly, dear A-Xie and I just don’t talk daily the way we did when you were making snowmen for ten years or whatever. don’t be jealous, whats a Wu Xie to do but the other black-clad immortal in town who’s…teaching him stuff;)

The last time I heard from our mutual boo was on one of my birthdays (i tell people different days to maximize consistent presents, got the idea from something in the news)

Zhang Qiling: Your attempt at levity is not humorous in the least. Wu Xie is not interested in you and any attempts you make to express your own interest will be blocked with extreme prejudice.

I was referring to Zhang Rishan. At the start of this conversation, five years ago.

Hei Yangjing: yikes chill tf out jelly bro you know I was joking

Cool your Qilin

hehehe

Admit it tho, we would be hot

Also yikes on the Zhang Rishan front

Lead with that next time tf use ur words

No I never talk to the bitch unless he pays why

Ew what does he want now

Tell him i died, make it tragic

Bonnie and Clyde Chat

Hei Yangjing: psst hey sexy got some big news

Xie Yuchen: Change the chat name.

Hei Yangjing: uhh lemme think no anyway how would ur fine ass like to hear some spicy info for the low low price I just sent?

Xie Yuchen: …This had better be good.

Hei Yangjing: face it ur the rich and rational version of Wu Xie I knew u would be curious

So here’s the 411

Xie Yuchen: The what?

Hei Yangjing: ugh

Youth

W/e

So the sitch is, zhang bois got some special necklace from someone somewhere

That is supposed to make the wearer invulnerable or somesuch

Idek man at this point I’m just accepting it, like sure u have a magical necklace, makes sense

I wonder if the Zhangs are like lotr??

I would totes be gandalf. u can be galadriel in that one HBIC scene.

Except this weirdass family jewelry hasn’t done fuckall for years, shit was broke af

then said necklace started glowing last week like yikes it was lit kinda glowing

Hehe I guess this is its glowup

Get it

Xie Yuchen: So, a mysterious Zhang artifact has suddenly become active.

Hei Yangjing: duh that’s what i said

Xie Yuchen: Is Zhang Qiling involved?

Hei Yangjing: he didn’t wanna be but you know Wu Xie has the Zhang Qiling equivalent of beatlemania and got them involved lol

Qilinmania, i dub it

And so now they are headed to the haus of scalding hot tea

Interested?

Xie Yuchen: Try and stop me.

Hei Yangjing: bitch I’m inviting u to crash the potentially dangerous Zhang drama WITH me

It’s basically a date;)

Xie Yuchen: No, it is not. Pick me up in an hour.

Hei Yangjing: feisty, I love to see it

[corpsentry]

allahrakhii (dot) tumblr (dot) com/post/148596180152/honestly-the-depths-of-ignorance-of-white-people

this is a really good post for those who want to learn more about the harmful portrayal of brown women in the legend of zelda series. theres a bunch of helpful links that direct to articles throughout the post as well. if you scroll through a bit youll find the section that covers why the gerudo outfit is racist.

i would appreciate if you post this and not simply brush it aside! this message isnt intended to be hostile or offensive, but rather it is an opportunity for learning and discussion. thank you.

i find the insinuation that i might brush this aside rather ominous anon! first of all, thank you for sharing this post. as someone vaguely from southeast asia i uncovered another facet of the fuckcluster of internalized racism in my system while reading it and will be thinking about it for a while to come. the post is well-written and thoughtfully phrased, plus op provides links to several other resources that i’ll be checking out in my free time too so i’d recommend anyone passing by here give it a read. i also want to apologize for responding to the earlier ask (now deleted) where op was like ‘how is the gerudo outfit racist’ and i was like ‘fuck all if i know’. i was talking out of my ass and failed to consider alternate perspectives. i retract that statement and replace it with this much longer and much more eloquent one.

now everything from here on is frankly quite unrelated to this ask so to the person who sent it please feel free to stop reading right here right now from high school musical as i want to talk about the previous anon message i received and some general stuff regarding fandom and none of that has anything to do with you (you are lovely and the rest of the world is a shithole).

i don’t know if the original anon who sent the ‘i like your art but the gerudo outfit racist :(’ is gonna see this but let’s take a moment to unpack it. i’m not quite sure what anon was going for with this ask. what did they want from me? did they want me to apologize for drawing and posting it? did they want me to delete the post? did they expect me to say oh thank you so much!!! sorry about the racism xd or did they want me to call up shigeru miyamoto and be like ‘hey dude your shit’s racist’ and then take down the entire nintendo corporation in one fell swoop like i was somehow implicated in either the development process or the game by pure merit of drawing fanart of it(????). this was the shit running through my head when i woke up at 6 am this morning because jetlag and opened tumblr and there was this Person sitting there trying to :( me. what’s up with the :(. why are you :(. what do you want from me.

this is where the second anon above comes in. relative to this ask, if the first anon had so much as dropped one (1) link to one (1) post explaining how the outfit might be racist (and taken out the :(, which is lame) then instead of being like ‘which reaction image should i use for this’ i would’ve been like ‘oh here’s something i didn’t know about the world and here’s how i can learn more’. ‘your art great but this racist u___u’ reads like someone trying to guilt-trip someone for shits and giggles. a B grade on a paper is useless unless your prof tells you where you went wrong and before anyone Calls Me Out i’m going to acknowledge that there is a broader issue with marginalized groups having to bear the burden of ‘explaining themselves’ to privileged people who aren’t willing to go and seek information on their own, but let’s just look at this ask for a moment.

what the fuck is this??? what am i even supposed to do with a statement that not only tells me nothing but also seems to have no clear purpose? i am sitting here drawing video game fanart in a college dorm in pennsylvania and i know like 3 things about western media because i don’t like live-action film. if you want to have a conversation please give me something to work with instead of trying to sound sad in my askbox. i can’t turn your :( into a :) because i have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about because i am not god (yet) (although i am trying to).

but let’s talk bigger. racist stereotypes are a huge fucking problem in everything the ideological west gets its hands on. i promise you i know this because i grew up in singapore where the racism was directed towards everyone including ourselves because sir dickbag raffles stuck a flag in the ground and then ruined everything. i can see how nintendo has replicated those racist stereotypes, especially given that east asian countries generally have a long history of racism towards black and brown people. singapore fucks with it too because we’re majority chinese-singaporean and majority lighter-skinned (relatively speaking). op makes a lot of excellent points. perpetuating stereotypes in popular media serves to reinforce racist ideas and further entrench discriminatory beliefs. it’s a chicken egg chicken egg thing. people are socialized into racist beliefs. they create media with racist depictions. young people consume said media and are socialized into racist beliefs. and so on. egg chicken egg chicken.

so, question: where does fanwork figure into all of this? is that 5k ganlink (is this the ship name lol idk if it’s wrong feel free to take me out with a bazooka) e-rated smutfic the egg or the chicken? who is it socializing? who’s writing it? what kind of audience is it reaching? and, more broadly speaking, what is fandom here for, and what does fandom want to achieve?

here we’re going to take a huge detour into another very popular disco horse (at least on twitter i have fuckall clue what’s going on on tumblr at all times) of the present times: the wmulti level wmarketing (wlw) discussion. it is statistically true that there are far less f/f fics on ao3 than m/m fics and f/m fics. this clearly reflects something about fandom’s habits, but the floor is divided. in fact, the floor is on fucking fire all the time. several arguments have been made over the years, of which 1) media creates less-nuanced female characters which makes them harder to connect to (mass media’s fault) and 2) everyone is a gay fetishizer (the individual’s fault) are, arguably, the most popular.

as a head ass philosophy student i’m going to pick the option no one likes and say that i think it’s a combination of all of these factors. and i’m going to step out further and say that people are so inseparable from our communities and societies that it’s impossible to tell where external influence ends and personal preference begins. what this means, more simply, is i think that both individual arguments are insufficient. media is fucking complicated and so are people so imagine when you put all of this shit together on one webpage and then you light a match. tell me, bethany, can you truly say that you like twinkies because You Like Twinkies or was it that advertisement you saw at the bus stop every day for eight years that finally got to you? are you trying to rebel against society’s fear of fatness? are you depressed? do you just like sweet things, and anyway, can anyone “just like” something?

now let’s transplant this issue of societal/self influence (a fandom friendly version of the nature/nurture argument, if you will) onto fandom. so okay, there aren’t a lot of f/f fics. what do?

some popular options i’ve seen are: 1) make angry posts/tweets about how everyone sleeps on f/f relationships in fandom and we’re all secretly lesbophobic 2) call everyone a gay fetishizer 3) write f/f fic

and so here is the other (other? i don’t remember how many problems i’ve listed lol i’m trying here guys) problem: fandom doesn’t have a single cohesive goal. like people don’t come to fandom and then sign a 5 page contract at the end of which is the company vision. everyone comes here to do their own shit. some people use fandom as a means of escape. some people are trying to spread a message (like the evangelists) or educate the youth. some people fuck around and find out.

concept: if the goal of fandom was social activism, then the argument could be made that We Should Write More f/f fics. that make sense to you? because there’s something we’re all striving towards, we can agree that we have an obligation to our community to do something. but the goal of fandom isn’t social activism, is it? maybe it is for you. but it isn’t for everyone here including the 14 year old kid in chinese orchestra and the 56 year old who just wants to read some good werewolf smut. and because we’re all different people who do different things and fandom is not and cannot be your entire life, we can’t make these prescriptive statements. we can’t tell people what to do. ‘people should write more f/f fics because there are very few right now’ that is a valid statement and observation. now will you write those fics? because you’re the only person whose fandom life you can control. because the point of fandom is we’re away from the rules and regulations of Society. because when people are told they can do what they want they will do what they want and if you tell them to do something else, it’s hard to fault them for not taking kindly to it. i’ve written 5k character studies. it’s work. not everyone wants to do that work. that’s why i do it.

detour end and now we return to the chicken egg problem. in my opinion, the shit we create in fandom isn’t the chicken or the egg. it’s the onsen egg that’s been placed on top of your ramen. it’s a product of several complex societal processes, but now it’s here you and maybe the dude sitting across from you are the only ones, by and large, that it’s going to affect. this onsen egg isn’t for the children of the world (broadcast via disney+). this onsen egg isn’t for the politicians who’ll decide on the policy of your country for the next hundred years. they’re not even going to see it because it’s a fucking onsen egg now and no one has taste anymore these days except for yourself, which is why this onsen egg is just for you. put in clearer terms, i agree with op that people in fandom often replicate societal bias in their work (people are copy machines, bethany), but i don’t think most fanfiction has the power to influence society the way that popular media can (see: marvel movies, i dunno, fucking, like, austin powers?), and to critique it with the same mindset we use to critique tony stark is to say that we earnestly think every 15k smutfic is going to be read by millions of people of all ages from across the world. which is not the case. ao3 has a thing you have to click if you’re not logged in you know where you have to agree that you’re 18 or older o read adult stuff. if you lie about that that’s your own goddamn problem. they asked.

and now, part 2, we come around to several interesting points made in the post. op mentioned that ganon is often portrayed as hypersexual (which is fascinating to me i don’t read e rated fic I See What Zelda Fandom Is Doing) or just fucks a lot in general. since i don’t go here i will take op’s word and roll with it, but i have my own word to add: so ganon fucks- what do we do? do we tell people to stop writing fics where ganon fucks? do we force them? do we tell people to write more gen rated character studies (please join me i sit here alone and i (pensive homo stare))?

we could. but we can’t make them. and we also can’t tell them where their ideas are coming from. i don’t, like, read a lot of smutfic but i sure know that shit exists because half my friends are horny as shit and can we all agree that fandom as a whole is just super fucking horny. like yes if ganon as a whole is portrayed more often in sexual situations than the other characters in the franchise, it’s a good and fair observation that Something’s Up Here. but can we really point to individual authors? the premises mentioned in the post by op are premises i’ve seen for haikyuu fanfiction. multiple times. tens of hundreds of times. what if someone’s just really fucking horny? what if they’re replicating racist ideas taught to them by mass media? can we tell? can THEY tell?

the answer is no because humans are black boxes that can’t be opened up even if we drop into the pacific ocean and instead screech helplessly at walls all our lives. the answer is these are complex issues and i don’t think prescriptive ‘Never Write Sexy Ganon’ statements or pointing fingers at random 30 year old smutfic authors will improve the situation. the answer, or at least my answer, is that we should consume media with a critical eye and be aware of potential biases perpetuated by the authors/creators, but striving towards ideological purity is impossible on principle (i promise you everyone on this planet is problematic in some way or another because this purity thing from christianity is fucking lame and also completely fake) and so we should all give that up. my personal answer is i’ve learned a lot about stereotypes about middle eastern and south asian people and i’ll take all this info with me moving forward, but i honestly and earnestly do not think me drawing link and zelda in dumbass princess jasmine outfits is going to directly correlate with an increase in racism as observed in the island city-state of singapore. i am aware now. that’s a good thing. but just like how the h*rry potter fandom has completely detached itself from its horrible creator and now fucks around in its own space doing its own thing, i think it’s fully possible to engage with flawed media because, surprise surprise, all the media in the world is flawed.

[59writes]

THE DRAW (PART ONE)

(PART TWO)

if you’re reading this as like an actual fic: first of all I’m sorry. how did you end up here. it’s most definitely 2 am go to bed. this fic was literally made because of a fucking uquiz about “ what kpop boy are you enemies to lovers with”

second of all, ignore any chess mistakes. idk I know legit fuckall about chess, my brother just always bitches about it whenever I want to stop playing because I just have my king left or smth like that because I know I’ve lost. mf reads chess books.

like look: I UNDERSTAND the game and how it works, and the idea that you have to think ahead and plan. but I’m adhd as shit and there’s no such thing as time or planning. ergo, I suck. like I SUCK. I feel like if I applied myself I’d be great but fuck that. I’m a bad chess player and y’all gotta deal.

third: I mention League Of Legends at one point. I’m so cringe yes shut up ok but I’ve been special interest-ing League for several months now and I need to let you know that Josh, y/n, and Jeonghan play a mean jungler/adc/support combo (respectively). I have so many more headcanons typed in my draft or whatever but I know nobody wants to see it so

anyways pls enjoy this train wreck of a fic lol

If you had known playing chess would have led to this bullshit, you never would have started playing in the first place.

You wouldn’t have worked your ass off, wouldn’t have pored through strategy books and watched live-streamed games, wouldn’t have competed for months to become an official grandmaster. Absolutely not. None of that hard work and pride deserved to be wasted on Yoon Jeonghan.

Thanks to your exceptional academics and study habits, as well as your headlining pursuits in chess, private schools crawled to your front door and begged for you to give them money just so they could brag about having you as arm candy. You didn’t care. It was free scholarships, a chance to leave your tiny town, a chance to start anew with people just like you. If you were lucky, they wouldn’t know your fame status, or would be used to the junk by now. Some would probably be even more popular than you.

So you grabbed a paper, scribbled a signature on, and packed your bags.

You had picked an academy for the arts, as logic games apparently counted as one. They figured they could do something with your whimsical essay writing as well, submit you in scholastic contests. It didn’t matter. You were free, and there to play some goddamn chess.

They had a hardcore club there, meeting daily on weekdays and occasionally for casual play on the weekends. Everyone there was excellent, all clever players with quick logic and a competitive edge that you hadn’t seen in a while. It was refreshing, but still not enough of a challenge.

You swept the floor with your classmates, and rose to the top of the club’s rankings within a week.

Of course you lost games here and there, as everyone did, but for the most part any game you began was imbalanced from the beginning. Your opponent could at best only defend themselves, only able to pick off pawns or bait bishops that inevitably ended in a brutal checkmate.

You were top of the class, and for once it took some effort. You felt like you’d earned something, and you were actually interacting with serious chess players who wanted to learn, not fawn over your work. They played fair and every game was fun.

That was until the blond bitch came in.

He sauntered into the class about a month after you’d hit the top of the leaderboard, long blond hair tied back in a neat and slick ponytail. You barely noticed, immersed in a game with another boy, Joshua. You studied the board as your opponent looked up, grinning wildly.

“Jeonghan!” He called out, waving at the other boy.

Jeonghan’s ponytail whipped across his shoulder as he turned, matching Josh’s smile with a killer beam of his own and jogging over.

“‘Shua!” He chirped, playfully wrapping an arm around Joshua’s neck, strangling him while his other hand smooshed Josh’s hair around.

You watched them wrestle for a second before clearing your throat. “Josh, your move.”

“Aw shit.” Josh says, wrestling Jeonghan’s arm away from his shoulder. “Back to the ass kicking.”

You grin. “If you hadn’t made that dumb move literally third turn in-“

“Hey! We are NOT talking about that!”

You snort and glance at Jeonghan, who’s gone quiet, studying the board. He crouches down and whispers in Josh’s ear, both of them scanning the board. Josh finally nods, pushing one of his pawns forward.

“What was that about, Hong?” You ask, capturing said pawn with a neat L from your knight.

“Nothing.” He replies sweetly, while Jeonghan smirks.

“Sure it wasn’t.”

Josh doesn’t reply. The rest of the game is tensely quiet, interrupted only by Jeonghan murmuring into Joshua’s ear every few minutes, a devil on his shoulder.

But it was fine, you were ahead by a few pieces, your bishops slowly inching towards a checkmate. The next move was it, the game in the bag.

And then your queen is gone.

Jeonghan takes the liberty of removing it from the board with a proud smile while Joshua cackles.

The game doesn’t last much longer, soon the both of you down to just pawns and your king, and then just the kings. A draw.

And let’s be honest here: Joshua kinda sucks at chess.

Josh counted it as a victory, though, hitting Jeonghan with a high five that echoed around the classroom like a firecracker. The boys talked briefly while you set up the board again for the next duo and packed your bag, ready to head to your dorm for a much-needed nap.

You wave to Joshua and turn to go, only making it a few steps before someone grabs your wrist. You whip around, ready to tell them off, only to be met with Jeonghan interrupting whatever swear you were about to say with a sharp smile.

“I’m playing you on Monday.”

He lets go of your wrist and turns around, resuming his talk with Josh as if nothing happened.

Rubbing your wrists ruefully, you headed home.

•••

Of course, his bullshit didn’t stop there.

You did, in fact, play him on Monday. He had you cornered within five minutes.

The next time, in four.

He gathered a crowd a few games in. Every time you’d meet his gaze he’d smirk, eyes brimming with some sort of superiority that made you furious, always endlessly cool and calm. He’d flick his hair over his shoulder every so often, even stopping to talk to spectators while you puzzled over the board, trying to hide your stress.

You were second place by Wednesday.

•••

“You cheated.”

Jeonghan just raises a brow.

“Put the rook back.” You growl, firm.

“Sorry?” He ignores your request, instead poking at one of your previously captured pawns he has resting on the table next to him. “Can you move? I’ve almost got checkmate.”

“My rook, Yoon.” You hold out your hand. “Give it back, or put it back yourself. H6.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Do you resign? If we were using a timer you’d have been disqualified sometime last week.”

It’s taking every ounce of self control to not slap the living shit out of the smug bastard. “Jeonghan, if you don’t-“

“How’s the game going here?” The chess club leader had made her way to your table, grinning widely upon seeing her favorite students.

Jeonghan smiles kindly at her while you curl in on yourself, trying not to explode. “It’s fine, Ms. Lee. Almost done with this one.”

“Are you missing a piece? Looks like the black rook-“

“Must have fallen off the table.” Jeonghan chirps, ducking under the table and returning with the piece in hand. He sets it with the rest of his captured black army, sending a thumbs up at Ms. Lee. “Thanks for noticing, we don’t need to lose any more pieces.” It’s an innocent sentence, but it makes you turn a boiling red. Lose a piece, my ass.

“Well played, both of you.” She replies, patting Jeonghan on the head fondly before walking off. The blond rolls his eyes, ducking his head so Ms. Lee can’t see.

“Jeonghan, you asshole.” You hiss as soon as Ms. Lee is out of earshot. “I saw you take it out of your pocket, you lying-“

“If you’re not moving, I’m going to.” Jeonghan replies, moving his bishop forward to capture your queen. “Checkmate. Good game.”

You can only gape as he grabs your hand to shake it and walks off, approaching Joshua.

That was when you really knew you hated him.

•••

You studied his games from then on, partially to learn, partially to gather evidence. If he was cheating this consistently with other players, you could definitely get him kicked out of the club and subsequently your life once competition season started, as well as learn and potentially steal his strategies.

Infuriatingly, though, every single game he played besides the hellish ones with you were completely fair. No pieces being slipped into his thin hands when nobody was looking, no clock taps that discreetly took a few seconds from his opponent’s timer. Even with Josh, who he was best buddies with: not even a joking steal or a prank of any kind.

It was just with you.

Every single game you played together, he managed to do something to piss you off, if not blatantly cheat. If it was one of the days you had spectators, his harassment would come in the form of heavy looks and obnoxious “I’m waiting”-esque moves: tapping his nails on the desk, raising a brow, checking his watch.

And if you were alone, you basically had to glue your pieces down to the board to stop them from slipping their way into his pockets. It was obvious when he did it, too, always sending you a smile, too innocent.

It was infuriatingly adorable how proud he was of his nasty behavior. And he was focused too: none of his other opponents got the thought and effort he put into outwitting you and attempting to steal things without you noticing. As much as you hated him, you had to admire it.

Which is why it was so hard to finally draw a line and refuse to play with him anymore.

Though he shrugged when you put your foot down, his dark eyes watched you the rest of that club session. Every time you caught him, he held your gaze for a moment before looking away and resuming cheerfully animated conversation with his opponent.

God, how was he so easily likeable?

He respected your decision, though, and didn’t even attempt to talk to you. It was genuinely polar and strange, and it made you lost in thought as the months passed.

You almost missed the absence of anger, as stupid as it was. School had always been boring and simple, and chess with Jeonghan was the only thing to have made you frustrated in a long time, to have truly challenged you in a long time.

Even when you buckled down on trying to get him out of your head, he seemed to follow- being friends with Joshua (and honestly most of the other club members) almost always devolved into chats about the club and “why aren’t you playing Jeonghan anymore?”. Josh often suggested playing video games with the two of them, and you had to refuse (although playing League with Josh was so fun).

It was lonely.

Stupid Jeonghan.

•••

Finally, tournament season started.

Following (what was apparently) club tradition, the entire team dyed their hair between practices. You settled with a simple streak of blue that was stolen from Josh (he went completely teal, the madman).

The next day, Jeonghan came to practice with his blond ponytail gone, replaced by a dark brown undercut, hair bluntly chopped to end around his jaw.

Unfortunately, it suited him.

He saved a blond spot for a bit of Josh’s blue, however, and Josh dyed it for him in the middle of the clubroom, laughing the whole time. They’d planned it, clearly, as you were pretty sure Josh didn’t just carry around dye in his backpack.

Which means he knew you two would match when he did your hair.

It was confirmed by an apologetic shrug when you cornered him while he threw away the dye-stained gloves.

“Give him a chance, please y/n?”

“Hong Jisoo. You know how I feel about that dumbass-“

“y/n-“

“Why are you so insistent on having us talk again? He’s a two-faced-“

“y/n, you’d like him. He’s funny, and genuinely nice. I don’t know why he was acting like that with you, but that was almost three months ago. Give him a chance.”

“You should be glad I like you, you stupid fucking rat.”

Josh laughs as you walk away, fuming.

Unfortunately, you did like that stupid fucking rat, and so when he offered dinner after an out-of-state tournament (he pinky swore he’d pay) you finally gave in.

Jeonghan coming?

lol yea

that ok?

not rlly

I’ll give him a chance tho

:D thank u

you owe me

I’m buying ur food :(

josh we r literally getting fast food

you owe me

lol k >:)

[vinatintasupernovita]

Hey! Me again, lol.... 😊 I loved your headcannons for Pollution! They are really cute! ❤❤❤❤❤ Could you do one where Pollution is a lil' bit (more hehehehe) possessive, and reader thinks it's cute, and Chalks gets flustered? Idk just wanna see then get flustered a bit ❤❤❤❤❤ You can do whatever you want with this idea, cannons, story, or whatever you feel like doing. Thank you so much for the great writing btw! 💜💓💗❤❤💓💓💜💗❤💓💜💓❤💗💜💓💗❤❤

Sure! I’m glad you enjoy them so much. Here ya go!

———

It started out as a really normal day. You and Pollution had head into town to do some shopping. The two of you were working on fixing up your new house and needed to go pick up a few things. Paints and wood stain and the like. Pollution was mostly just excited for, what you liked to call, the chance to make a ‘controlled mess’ before having to put everything in order. But, before they could do that you needed supplies.

The two of you were currently inside a paint store choosing between swatches for the bedroom. You held up two different shades of blue for your partner to choose between. Pollution had absolutely fuckall eye for color if it wasn’t oil-slick black or smoke white, so they just kind of were indecisively shifting between the two.

“C’mon Chalks, its not that big a deal.” You said.

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t want our bedroom to be ugly.” They muttered. You chuckled slightly. At least they cared.

“Are you finding everything alright?” A very pretty employee asked, walking up. You turned to give them a normal ‘yes, everythings good’ response, but you blinked. And then they blinked. “Y/N?”

“Claire?” You asked as a smile grew on your face. Pollution felt their lip quiver into a bit of a sneer as the two of you shared a quick hug. “I haven’t seen you in years! How have you been?”

“Oh you know, been busy.” She chuckled. Pollution slid closer to you, taking your hand. Claire definitely noticed. “Oh, hi there.”

“Hello.” They said. “Y/N, whos this?”

“Chalky, this is Claire. We dated in college for a little.” You motioned between the two of them with your free hand. “Claire, Chalky.”

“Nice to meet you.” Claire said. “So are you..?”

“I’m Y/N’s fiancée.” They said, their tone laced with a sharp bite. They wrapped their arm around your waist and pulled you closer. In that moment, you knew exactly what was happening.

“Fiancée?” She asked. “Congratulations! You’re lucky to be marrying someone like Y/N. They’re the coolest. We did a lot of crazy things back in the day. Remember that time we stole the door off that fraternity house?”

“Claire,” you laughed. “God, not infront of my partner. Although, I do seem to remember you being super cool too. You egged the entire dorm building when you were black out drunk because you thought it was the neighbor dorms.”

“Hey, it was funny.” She chuckled. “You haven’t changed a bit, Y/N. You know, we should get coffee some time.”

You looked at Pollution, who’s hold on you was incredibly close at this point. You smirked just a bit.

“I would,” You said. “But me and Chalky are gonna be really busy. We’re fixing up a house we got.”

“Ah, alright.” She said. “Well, it was good to see you, I probably should get back to work. Take care, kay?”

“You too.”

As she walked away, Pollution’s face softened. They turned to look at you, only to see you giving them the slyest smile that they had ever seen.

“You know something,” You said before putting your hands on their cheeks, pulling them into a kiss. “You’re real cute when you get jealous.” That’s when Pollution’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that was sitting about five feet away from where you stood.

“I- I-“ They stammered, absolutely losing their cool. If they had any to begin with. “I was not-“

“Chalks, sweetie,” You chuckled. “You were holding me like you were about to stop me from dropping off a cliff. I could see through that shit a mile away.” You kissed their cheek and slightly on their jaw, which only made them get redder. “C’mon, we can get paint another day. For now let’s go pick up that bed frame and put it together.”

“Mmhm.” They squeaked from between their sealed lips. If this was how you acted when they got jealous they might have to try it more often.

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Raising Hell

So, uh, basically I have no idea why anything in this episode happens or what its point is supposed to be. Having looked up who wrote it somewhere in the middle, I am completely lacking in surprise.

I mean, the first bit pretty much sets the tone.  Chatty Corpsy spouts exposition a mile a minute, then gets killed, and the ghost stands over her and spells disembowel.  Is that actually supposed to be scary?  Funny?  Anything but an absolutely bizarre waste of my time?

A bunch of dudes with basically nothing but FBI jackets and a bullshit story to back themselves up with convince an entire town to camp out in the local high school for two days without anybody figuring out they're full of shit.  You know, what with smartphones existing and all.  Plausible!

Furthermore, I have become convinced that everyone in this writer's room genuinely believes there is nothing scarier than a bunch of random antagonists standing around in a room pontificating at each other.  It's all demons do anymore. It's all angels do anymore.  Oh, fucking look, here's a bunch of goddamn ghosts doing it, too!  A fucking thrill a minute, I tell you.

Also, you know how the episode with H.H. Holmes was actually scary?  Whether or not you think it's in questionable taste for them to use real life serial killers at all, the reason they included him was because the whole murder castle deal and semi-mythical legends about him made for a scary premise they actually used in the episode.  I ignored the thing with it being Gacy before in Lebanon because there was more important stuff going on, but contrast the current writers' choices with him and this Jack the Ripper guy with the use of Holmes.  Here they're just throwing out the names of real life murderers to try and make their villains scary in the cheapest, fastest way possible.  Just like bringing back “Bloody Mary” that just kills whoever, this loudmouthed windbag has nothing to do with the name they're stealing to try and make him scary.

Also, the spell demon guy did is keeping the ghosts in, right?  Sure, it's going to fail, but at the moment, it's supposed to be an impassible barrier, yes?  So why, exactly, is it necessary for Sam to call in his goon squad to join the four of them in wandering into the danger zone to shoot at 'em? Seriously, why?  Shooting them dissipates them for a few seconds, maybe minutes.  They’re not laying out additional salt or iron lines or doing anything that might genuinely help contain the ghosts, they’re just putting themselves in danger because ...?  The mooks could also be better spent guarding the major entrance points to the town and/or the townies and/or doing research back at the bunker into what they're going to try next after the barrier fails.  But those things would actually make sense and prevent the shambling zombie that is the writers’ pathetic attempt at a plot in this episode being pushed into something vaguely resembling action. 

I am shocked, SHOCKED I tell you, that Rowena is now suddenly unable to do something with her powers that she did before.  Hey, remember when she stole that page out of the damned book to make herself more powerful to unseal her full powers (even though they touted her as the most powerful witch ever to begin with) and that was in season 13, well after the ghost-crystal-bomb thing?  But LOL, now she's even weaker?  This is exactly why nothing matters anymore.  Things that worked previously (angel powers, witch powers, the Colt, whatever) suddenly and randomly don't work to do the exact same jobs for … reasons.  The thing that makes it even dumber is they could have said that the ghost containing spell and crystal ghost sucking spell interfered with each other somehow.  Still at a bullshit level of convenience, but it doesn't involve making everyone and everything's powers completely arbitrary just because fuck continuity, that’s why!

Then Ketch shows up to save the Winchesters from their sudden attack of brain damage.  The show has provided an entire. fucking. town. full of angry ghosts straight from hell.  But actually bother to write a scene of Sam and Dean legit getting over their heads in a believable way?  Why fucking bother when you can just make them astoundingly incompetent.  It is literally unbelievable that Sam and Dean would not recognize those people as possessed fucking immediately.  Yet they stand there with rock salt filled shotguns doing sweet fuckall confronted by three fucking ghosts so Ketch can make a big entrance.  Is there a rule on a board somewhere in the writer's room that Sam and Dean have to be made to look incompetent at least once an episode?  Is this some kind of revenge for having to still write the main characters they're so clearly bored with?  Are these idiots just so fucking stupid they don't realize how insulting this is?  Did they run out of money for extras and the stunt coordinator?  

Also, someone explain to me how tiny flakes of metal are going to be less harmful to a human body than rock salt.  I'll wait.  They just really really wanted Ketch as one of the BMoL guys to have some kind of specialized gadget but couldn’t give him something actually potentially useful for the situation at hand.

Again, these writers really want to be writing a bad soap opera with occasional supernatural elements.  So despite that it's the final fucking season, we have time for Rowena and Ketch flirting.  Not to mention that they also give the only major female character even more relationship drama with the Jack the Ripper guy later.  If it's not questionably skeevy, it's not Bucklemming! 

Also, Castiel is not good at inspirational speeches, just like he’s frustratingly almost never good at anything else these days (those healing powers that were working last week? ha! forget it!).  Anyway, why do they keep having him make them?  Are we as the audience supposed to find them convincing though they never work on the target?  Are we supposed to feel bad for all the ~*feelings*~ Castiel supposedly has despite being an angel who isn’t supposed to have emotions the same way humans do?  I guess this particular one is to further show that Dean’s still mad (which I am absolutely 100% behind) but eh, whatever.  Though I guess that still ranks it above most of the episode sitting at a solid WTF, no really, WTF?!

Now we get to the part where they bring Kevin back for no fucking reason beyond that he's a “fan favorite”.  None of it makes a single tiny speck of sense.  Let's skip right past the fundamental absurdity of how Chuck apparently did this for literally no reason just to be a dick when he was actively trying to pretend not to be a dick.  Kevin has a “bad boy” reputation (come the fuck on) because God Himself cast him down - so him being in hell would have to be fairly common knowledge, for it to result in him having a reputation.  Except literally no demon Sam & Dean ran into between 11.21 and now taunted them with it?  Crowley, who was still alive and fucking King of Hell through season 12 never noticed and either told the Winchesters or tried to trade on it?  BULL and SHIT.  This is pretty close to the same scale of insult to continuity and the audience’s intelligence as these two fuckwits suddenly writing Lucifer as the older brother. 

Then in typical fashion, Sam & Dean discuss their plans to totes send Kevin to heaven in front of demon guy just so they can be told OH NOES!  He totally can't go to heaven!  So sad!  The poor widdle woobie!  Fuck off with this shit, show.  Not even to mention that they take the word of a demon as gospel truth when there is no time crunch or clear lack of better options.  It's all those many many hits to the head, I guess.  That I do actually find quite sad.  I mean, I don't actually want Kevin hanging around like a bad smell while they divert from actually important shit to try and get him to heaven where it makes no sense for him not to already be.  But at the end they don't even arrange some way to keep in touch just in case the fucking demon might be (gasp) lying?

Hey, I did actually like the exchange between Dean and Sam over Chuck poking his corresponding wound.  Oh, look, it's Sam's “I'm totally lying” face, followed by Dean's “I totally know you're lying but I'll let it go for now, Sam” face.  It was a great moment that required very little dialogue to work quite well.  It's such a shame nobody's making a show about these two characters!  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The absurdity keeps on coming, too.  In the whole two days they've been wasting time in Sunshine Daylightville they never discussed how long the spell would last?  Oh, right, they were too busy wandering into the ghost zone to shoot at 'em for shits and giggles to care about that, I guess.  Not to mention the whole “just cast it again!” is remarkably blasé about it requiring a 'fresher the better!' human heart.

More ghosts blathering at each other.  Yay.  This supposed Jack the Ripper guy is just always in the right place at the right time to hear all the gossip, knows every random thing he could possibly need to, and already has the power to intimidate and attack other ghosts. He's basically ghost!Asmodeus, who also steals AU!Michael's original idea of how to get through the barrier, because we really needed time spent discussing the world's most obvious plan.  Also, we've seen ghosts able to attack and absorb the power of other ghosts, but it was because they had already been doing it for a while.  This guy is just as fresh out of hell as everybody else, but he's more powerful and knowledgeable and totes threatening!!!  Well, I'm convinced and not on the verge of napping from boredom.

Naturally for reasons, Rowena goes into town entirely by herself without protection with their only real hope of containing the ghosts before the barrier breaks down instead of anybody insisting on her going with backup.  That's what anybody with a brain would do!  

Of course no one asks where Ketch has been the whole time.  Or even thinks of trying to test him after he was last seen literally knocked unconscious in the middle of ghost central where we know there are plenty of ghosts angry enough to be capable of possession.  Nope, why would anyone even think to do that?  Everything in this “plot” that happens requires all of the characters to be completely fucking stupid.

I'm going to assume by “you” Ketch meant “you Winchesters” because Mary wasn't there.  It probably didn't, because Bucklemming, but fuck it.  It's the least egregious stupidity in this episode that's a cornucopia of choices for the worst.

I … actually like the scenes with Chuck and Amara?  So, you know, that's something!  

Then the episode ends with the guys looking at all the ghosties still shooting up from hell and wring their hands about what they're going to do and maybe they should get on that!  Again, if Sam's flunkies aren't all dead, why aren't their worthless asses already researching this shit over the past two days?  It's not like it's new news that there was a big open hole to hell at the center of the problem and there was honestly nothing but wrangling some cranky civilians to interfere with trying to think ahead to that.

In summary, this episode is a constant showcase of the problems that result when you set incompetent morons who don't recognize their own inadequacy to write characters who are actually supposed to be intelligent experts at their work.  It's a joke – except not at all funny.

[serenagaywaterford]

1) Hey, it's me again. The idiot rambling anon. I wasn't gonna spam you again, but then I read your responses. At this point, I'm convinced you're my alter ego, lol. My thoughts are all over the place, but I'll try to organize them. So, about Nick. I've purposely avoided talking about him so far, but why the hell not? Let me make one thing clear: I'm NOT of of those thirsty fangirls. But even if I was? I wouldn't get offended or butthurt, because another person likes different fictional

2) characters (of all things) than me. I mean, big fucking deal. Each to their own, no need for apologies. ;) (My tone is a little aggressive, I know, but I’m sick and tired of some people on social media –in and out of fandoms– acting holier-than-thou and sending hate messages and even actual death threats (!) to creators or people that express unpopular opinions*. It’s reached a point where many people feel the need to put disclaimers in their posts so as not to be attacked.)

3) Back to Nick. I liked him just fine back in early S1, when he was all mysterious and his background story was unknown to us. When we did learn about it and the fandom started acting like he’s that pure, handsome angel uwu? Nah. Obviously, he’s no Fred/Serena/Lydia,but he’s not a “cinnamon roll” either. (Imo, the only decent dude on that show is Luke.) I mean, if Nick was SO altruistic, he wouldn’t have joined this job. Or even after everything went down, he could have tried to help other

4) handmaids without expecting anything in return. But no, he only helps June and that’s because he’s in love with her. I’m not blaming him for trying to survive under such circumstances, but I won’t idolize him either. Now, in s2? I’m kinda neutral about him. I don’t hate him, but I can’t say that I’m a fan either. Not gonna lie, he bores me at times, because he’s just… there. No sparks, no fireworks. Not sure if it’s the writing that doesn’t do the actor any favors, but his acting hasn’t

5) really drawn me in yet. A counterexample to this? Aunt Lydia. Her personality is despicable 98% of the time and yet. Dowd’s captivating performance makes me want to know so much more about her character.) On the other hand, I’m glad that June has someone (besides Rita) to back her up in that hellhole. She needs comfort and allies. But the whole ‘tRu Love 5eva" fanon thing? No, thanks. Not only it doesn’t fit the tone of the series, but I also believe that sharing an intense, forbidden love/

6) during such a shitstorm is not the same thing as keeping it alive after all is said and done (post-Gilead). Maybe they’ll stay together (as long as Nick doesn’t die), maybe they’ll fall apart. I can’t really see June romantically reconnecting with Luke either. After everything she’s been through… She’s a completely different person now. Unfortunately, the same things goes for Emily and her wife. Even though I’d love to see her interact with both her wife and her child in S3.

———

My inbox is so beautiful right now! Never, ever call yourself an idiot, my friend. (If you are, then so am I!) Brain twins, you see.

(Also sorry about this being out of order lol.)

I was trying not to talk about him too cos generally I just … I prefer not to think about him much. The fangirls, just, *sigh*. I try to avoid as much as possible in this fandom, esp on tumblr. Just hang out in my quiet little, not-Serena-hating corner. I always feel a need to put disclaimers these days cos as much as I don’t really care about random hate, I’d prefer not to have to deal with dogpiles or to look at it lmao. Like people can go around just hating on any character here–especially if they’re women–but say one critical (not even hateful) thing about their male fav and things just go off. 

I’m more than aware the majority of people don’t like Serena and think she’s the worst thing ever. And fair play! (I get it… cos I’m not delusional. She’s awful.) Each to their own. I don’t go around bitching at people who say shitty things or stuff I don’t agree with, or blocking anybody who doesn’t like her. (There are a few posts I do engage with cos normally they seem like they want to go deeper in The Discourse but most Serena/Lydia/Eden/Janine/June-hate I just ignore.)

ITA. S1 was, like, okay. That’s Nick. What’s he up to? What’s his deal? (I don’t really care but I’m not opposed to him either. Just like I didn’t care about Luke’s backstory/escape.) He’s trying to be good to June and she needs that.When we did learn his backstory I was not pleased cos he seemed like a twerp but whatevs. Grey characters are grey. It wasn’t until S2 that I started to get irked by him (and the hypocrisy of his fans but that’s a whole other issue). 

I can’t agree ANY more with your assessment of Nick. Like that’s EXACTLY what I’ve been saying! Firstly, he was RIGHT THERE when the Handmaid/Ceremony thing was first suggested and was like “Oh, yeah, great idea!” to Fred. I get that perhaps he was pressured to go along to keep his job but that’s a stretch imo, and if you can give him that sort of leeway, why can’t characters like Eden, Serena, Lydia and June get the same benefit of the doubt for certain things? Why is Nick’s pressure to keep his job more important and forgivable than anybody else’s pressures? It’s like that entire scene doesn’t exist to fangirls and Nick is so precious and in love and wonderful. Then there’s the rape of June. Like I know it’s pretty controversial to look at it that way, but that first time, with Serena overseeing it like a fucking creepy pimp (YUUUUUUCCCKKKKK I HATE IT THANKS) was rape. June barely knew the guy and I’m pretty sure if she wanted to have sex with him it wouldn’t be like that! And sure, after that, it was totally consensual but that first time was not. And I’ve heard the justification and excuses of “Well, Nick didn’t have a choice either!” which I call bullshit on, cos Nick is not some powerless delivery boy. 

He’s a fucking Guardian who is tight with the top Commanders. He’s a man, if nothing else. Serena can act all high and mighty but she’s still a woman in a highly misogynistic society. I’m not convinced Fred would take his wife’s word over Nick’s tbh, especially if it was like “Dude, your crazy wife asked me to fuck the Handmaid you’re obsessed with”. If he really didn’t want to do it that badly, he could have taken that chance to report Serena. Even if Fred wanted to keep it hush hush away from other Commanders, he would have gone after Serena. Men are far more likely to turn on women than each other, esp in THT. But that’s just my take. Maybe I am missing something about Nick’s status. To me, it was like double rape. Neither of them wanted to do it, like that anyway. But Nick also did fuck all to stop it when IMO he did have some power to do something. He is not a helpless victim in that society, imo. Again, probably not a well-received opinion. 

Don’t even get me started on his “Poor me!” routine in S2 when June tells him to have sex with Eden. I’m glad she called him on that bullshit. (But again, over the fangirls heads. Enough about them!)

Basically, everything Nick has done wrong isn’t his choice; he’s just a victim. In a story about women, Nick’s victimhood at the hands of these nasty women and men is the real issue. Blah. Whatever.

I just find Nick lacks total self-awareness about being part of the shitty ass system. He kind of just floats around thinking nothing is his fault and he’s blameless for it all, and he certainly can’t seem to see it from anyone’s perspective except his own. He’s upset about Fred & June’s Jezebel trips, not for her own safety or well-being but mainly he’s jealous. Of course he’s concerned about her safety but I believe it takes a backseat to his jealousy. He just seems to never take any responsibility for anything.

And BINGO about the previous Handmaid. Nothing we’ve been shown has given any hint he cares about any other woman’s plight in Gilead other than June, and only cares about her cos he had a crush/fucked her/is in wuv wiv her. Basically, she’s HIS so suddenly he cares about her. Look how fast he dumped that Martha as soon as he got brooding about June. He’s done fuckall for anybody except himself and that alone makes me dislike him. He’s no better than Fred in that way for me. But where Fred can occasionally be an interesting villain, cos Fiennes is nasty good, I find the actor who plays Nick just… not engaging. And he’s not SUPPOSED to be a villain! He’s meant to be a good guy! It’s crazy. He’s not compelling, he’s not interesting. He’s bland. He’s not even good looking, lol. I was watching with a friend once and mention I thought Fred was way better looking than Nick and she just stared at me and said, “You shouldn’t say that. But me too.” So, count me in the camp that just does not get the appeal of the character OR the actor.

I don’t hate Nick generally. I am just totally indifferent to his existence. If he left the show tomorrow, I’d shrug and probably be a little glad I don’t have to see that bland moping anymore. If he stays, oh well. Shrug. And I just don’t want his and June’s star-crossed romance shoved down my throat. It’s so… I dunno. I’m not opposed to June finding solace and hope but making it some beautiful forbidden romance, I’m not buying it. Like you said, it’s all well and good in Gilead–but it doesn’t strike me as something that can be sustainable outside it. To borrow from you last time: It’s the Handmaid’s Tale, not The Guardian + the Handmaid’s Tale.

Okay, enough about that pipsqueak. I don’t even like talking about him, tbh. He’s not worth it when there’s so much else going on.

ITA about Luke/June too. I feel like the level of disconnection and trauma that they’ve sustained, especially June, they can try to reconnect but it’s pretty difficult and I think especially with June having a sexual/romantic relationship with Nick pulls that really tight. It’s just two different planets they live on now. I don’t doubt that she still loves Luke, but actually reforming the relationship they previously had seems like an impossible task considering everything both of them have been through. It’s sad, but … sadly true for many people. Relationships can fall apart for far less.

And on the same page about Emily/Sylvia too. She is just soooooo fucking broken, and hopeless, that if they have them just rekindle with no issues, it’ll be bad writing. (I dunno if you see spoilers but there’s one about them.) She needs therapy so much more than a cutesy feelgood storyline.

Back to Lydia: Exactly! There’s a character we know very little about and who is a horrible person, yet the performance by Dowd makes almost everyone go, “TELL ME MORE!” With Nick, it’s the opposite for me. I’m just like, “Please, less of this.”

[homeiswherethestuckis]

Hey, It Pays the Rent (Part 2/3) Friends

@notedchampagne I meant to finish this sooner so it was closer to your birthday, but it kinda got away from me, lol.  Anyway, here’s the second part of your roommates/enemies to friends to lovers birthday fic!  I hope you like it!  :D

(sorry in advance for the length)

(Part 1/3) Enemies

(Part 3/3) Lovers

It was weird how quickly you went from hating Karkat’s steaming insides to considering him a friend.  A month ago you didn’t want to go anywhere near that asshole, and now you look forward to your weekly movie night with him.

Or maybe...maybe it’s not as weird as you think?  When you really consider it, you’d never had an actual conversation with Karkat until that awkward night early in your roommateship.  You’d known Karkat for years, and yet you knew jack shit about him.  Maybe you would’ve been friends with him sooner if you’d ever had an honest conversation with him before this.

Not that you’ve been having tons of emotional heart to hearts since.

Actually...aside from Karkat’s single awkward outburst, you still know jack shit about him.

You should probably change that sometime…

“Dave?”  Karkat yells at you from the living room.  “How’s the popcorn coming?”

But now’s not that time.

“Yeah, it’s coming!”  You rip open a bag of popcorn from the microwave and dump it in a bowl.  “Look out!  We’ve got some piping hot corns, popped and buttered for your pleasure.  I’m telling you, dude, you’re gonna be so into this your taste buds are gonna orgasm so fucking hard you’ll be tasting shit funny for a week.”

You set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table and flop onto the couch next to Karkat.  You use the table as a footrest.  

Karkat squints at you suspiciously.  “The way you phrased that makes me really question leaving you in charge of the popcorn.”

He says this as he shoves his entire hand in the bowl.  You point this out by nudging the bowl with your foot.  “Clearly you’re not that concerned about it.”

He glares at you and pulls the bowl closer to himself.  “And get your fucking stink frond away from my hot snack corn!”

You snort.  “Okay, okay, if you’re that serious about it I’ll leave you two alone.”

You start to stand up, but Karkat grabs your shirt and pulls you back down.  “No, you stay put, you shit.  If this snack is gonna have a fucking orgy in my mouth, you have to stay put and watch this monstrosity you’ve created go down in the most hellish way imaginable.”

He takes his hand out of the popcorn bowl, a couple kernels fall from his hand and onto the carpet.  Without taking his eyes away from you, his brings his fistful of popcorn up to his mouth and eats it out of his own palm like he’s a god damn horse.  And, like the disgusting horse he’s pretending to be, he chews with his mouth wide open, making the nastiest sounds humanly (trolly?) possible just to gross you out.

It does.  

But it’s also hilarious as fuck.

You laugh and give him a light shove.  “You’re so nasty, bro!”

He swallows his mouthful and rolls his eyes at you.  “If that’s not a classic case of the pot calling the kettle pitch.”

“Do you mean...black?  Because that’s the saying.  Pot calling the kettle black.”  

“That’s what I just fucking said.”

“No, you said pitch.”

“Whatever.”  He shrugs.  “I meant black, then.  Sorry my memory is complete shit when it comes to your human idioms.”

He picks a kernel out from between his sharp looking teeth with his even sharper looking nails.  “Even though it failed to deliver on its promise of getting my tongue off, this popcorn’s good.”

“Thanks, I microwaved it.”  You pop a couple pieces in your mouth.  “What are we watching?”

Every Saturday, you spend the night chilling at home and watching a movie with Karkat.  It started out right after the big welcome back bash you threw for him, also known as the night you officially became friends.  You’d made him marathon Star Wars with you, because somehow Karkat had managed to go his entire life without consuming a single piece of Star Wars media up until that point.  

He liked it more than you’d hoped he would.  You swear there were fucking stars in his eyes by the time you’d finished the last one.  He turned to you and asked if there were more.

And of course, you said yes.  While trying to keep a straight face, you mention that there are prequels.  A whole trilogy about Darth Vader’s life and his descent to the dark side.  Did Karkat want to watch it?

Fuck, you had to try so hard to keep from laughing your ass off when Karkat emphatically said yes.  

It was late by that point, already past midnight.  You told him that might be a thing to do next week, if he didn’t have anything planned for next Saturday already.

He didn’t.  

And so was the birth of Saturday Movie Night.

“Hitch.”

“Okay, cool.”  You nod.  “I mean, we already watched Troll Hitch, but if you wanna ogle every variation of  Will Smith in existence for another hour and however fucking long then sure, I’m down for it.”

His face flushes as he shoots a glare at you.  “Shut the fuck up, I never say shit about your inane Ben Stiller fixation.”   

“Dude, I didn’t mean anything about it, it’s chill.  Nothing to get so defensive about.  Besides, you can’t tell me you didn’t fucking love Zoolander, because if you did say that you would be a dirty lying fuck and we both know it.”  You toss a piece of popcorn at him.  “Now start your movie.”

You watch the movie and try your best not to talk all the way through it like how Karkat hates.  You do throw in a kind of relevant comment here and there, though, mostly because there’s no way someone could expect you to be quiet for a whole hour.  Karkat seems to get this about you, and only shoots you mildly annoyed looks throughout the movie’s run.  

When the movie’s over, Karkat takes it out and puts in the next one.  It’s a troll movie, so you don’t bother asking what the title is or trying to pay much attention to the absurdly over complicated plot. The popcorn’s already finished by the time this movie starts.  Karkat’s asleep about halfway through the second movie.  You put the empty popcorn bowl in the kitchen, turn off the tv, and quietly sneak to bed so you don’t wake him up.

All in all, it’s a pretty average movie night.  A little under average, actually.  Karkat doesn’t usually fall asleep during it.  Still, not a particularly remarkable night.

Which is exactly what you tell Rose when she asks you about how your day was yesterday.  You finish it off with a shrug and watch her stab her fork into part of an omelet as you wait for her reply.

“You know, it’s funny,” she says thoughtfully, “whenever I ask either of you how your day was, you both mention that.  Honestly, at this rate we should just invite him to brunch with us.  It would save me from having to hear about the same mundane event twice.”

“Yeah, like fuck I’m gonna invite him to our sibling brunch.”  You snort, stuffing a pancake into your mouth.  “This is a family only event.  Not like you try to invite Kanaya to this ever.”

“You’re right, I don’t try to invite Kanaya to this ever.”  Rose nods.  “Although, I have to wonder why you used my girlfriend in your example of people I wouldn’t invite to sibling brunch.”

You down your pancake with a gulp of apple juice.  “I don’t know, she’s the first person I thought of.”

She smiles and wiggles her eyebrows at you.  “A likely story.”  

“I don’t think I like what you’re implying, Rose.”

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t makes the implication any less true.”   

“Karkat’s just my friend, Rose.”

“And I don’t doubt that.”  You raise a suspicious eyebrow at her  “But until recently you did despise him quite a bit.  Your feelings towards him seem to be easily swayed.  Or maybe, much like when you had that crush on John throughout high school, you’ve been misinterpreting your feelings this whole time.”

“Have I ever told you how much I hate you psychoanalyzing me?”

She sips her tea and smirks.  “Only every day.”

“Well, I do.  I really fucking do.”  You reply, stabbing part of a pancake.  “As usual, you’re overreaching with my dick and making accusations based on fuckall nothing just to mess with me.”

“True.”  She nods.  “Most of my analysis is usually only semi-serious, but you and I both know I include at least a grain of real analysis in there, if only to keep you on your toes.”

You roll your eyes at her.  “Okay, fine, I’ll bite.  What’s your grain of real advice in accusing me of having a crush on Karkat?”

“You tend to ignore your feelings until they’re too strong to be forgotten about anymore, and then you act on them without thinking, which never ends well for you.  Even if you don’t have a crush on Karkat now, or you never have a crush on him, I still think you should try to keep yourself aware of your emotions surrounding your new and drastically different relationship.”

That’s….not terrible advice.  Fuck.  “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t nor will I ever have a crush on Karkat.  He’s my friend and not my type.”

“Since when did you have a type?”  Rose snorts.

“Since nunya.”

She takes the bait. “Nunya?”  

“Nunya fucking business.”

You finish off brunch and take Rose back to your apartment so she can do her book club thing with Karkat.  They got back into doing that the week after the party, when Rose let Karkat read whatever project it was that she was working on.  Karkat told you all about it at one point, he seemed like he was really into it. You told him to tell Rose about what he thought and not you, since she was the writer and you had no idea what he was talking about.

They talked on the phone for a solid hour, during which they decided to resurrect their failed book club from high school and drag the smelly rotten club corpse back to Karkat’s room to stay indefinitely.

By which you mean they get together once a week and talk about books or something.  You actually don’t know what the fuck their book club activities were, you never went to a meeting.

Karkat drags Rose to his room as soon as the two of you step through the door.  Aside from a welcome back nod, you get no acknowledgement.  His door slams shut, and you may as well be alone in the apartment.  

At this point, there are a couple things you could do with your valuable time:

You could do something productive, like start up on some homework early or clean your room or something.

Or….

You could take a nap.

God, with all these pancakes stuffed inside you, you don’t know how there’s even a decision here.  Clearly this is the perfect opportunity for some choice couch naps.  

You get yourself situated on the couch with something on for background noise when you get a text from John’s dad.  He’s decided to donate some of John’s older but still nice clothes to charity and wants to know if you have any that you wouldn’t mind him taking.  Of course, there’s no obligation to do so if you don’t want to.  

So of course you’re going to do it.

You get up and start shuffling off towards your room.  On the way there you bang on Karkat’s door and you tell them that you’ll probably be in your room sorting clothes when it’s time for Rose to go.  

You spend about twelve minutes taking clothes out of your closet and tossing them onto the bed for further scrutiny.  By minute thirteen you get distracted by some of the other shit you’ve thrown in your closet.

You’re sitting on the floor and laughing your ass off as you dig through a box of old photos and comics you’d written during school.  You were even more hilarious than you remembered.  You’ve gotta give younger you some credit, all this shit is pure motherfucking gold.  You don’t know how long you’re reminiscing when you’re disrupted by a knock on the door.

“It’s open!”  You shout as you crawl out of your closet and stand up.

The door opens just enough for Karkat to poke his face in.  “Can I come in?”

“Sure, whatever.”  You shrug.  “Where’s Rose?”

“She went home a couple minutes ago.”  He replies as he closes the door behind him.  She said she had some other more important shit to do.”

Karkat surveys your room slowly, taking in the whole mess of it.  You’re suddenly aware that Karkat’s never been in your room before now.  It shouldn’t matter, but god you’ve never been more aware of how much of a disorganized mess your room is.  

He looks at you and smirks.  “I see you’re really busting your ass organizing your extensive wardrobe in here.”

“What can I say?  Shit’s boring, I got distracted.”  You toe your box of mildly interesting junk into his line of sight.  “I’m only human, dude.”

“As if that’s an excuse.”  Karkat says, rolling his eyes.  “Do you want any help, or are you determined to waste your whole day on this one shitty, simplistic task?”

“I’m cool with doing it myself, but I’m not opposed to you helping.”  You shrug again.  “As long as you don’t start belting out Marina and the Diamonds lyrics or whatever the fuck you’re listening to like every other time you do a chore.”

His brow knits together in a quizzical look as he joins you by the closet.  “What the fuck are you talking about?  I don’t do that.”

Wait.

Wait….

Does he not know?  That he fucking does that?

How could he not?

But...the confusion on his face seems so genuine.  Is he really not aware?

“Yes you do?  Bro, you holler like a velociraptor during mating season.”

“What?  No I…”  he stops midsentence.  His eyes go distant for a moment as he replays memories of past chores in his head, the filter of his headphones removed.  His face darkens to a shade of grey tinged with red.  “...I do.  Holy fuck, how much of a situationally unaware shit pan could I be not to notice I was doing that?  And you just fucking listened to my tone deaf screeching this whole time?  Why would you willingly subject yourself to that, are you a masochist or some shit?   Are you getting off on my voice grating your auricular clots to shreds?  You’re some unique kind of fucked up, Dave.”

You have no idea how he reached this conclusion, but whatever.  “Okay, you caught me.  I get off on your sandpaper howl shredding my eardrums like sharp cheddar.  Sometimes while you’re screaming I like to pull the shreds out of my ear and sprinkle that shit on some Doritos and make myself a sick plate of tasty nachos.  Your voice is like broken glass under my fingernails and it gets me all hot and bothered inside.  When I masturbate I can’t finish without your malicious yodeling ringing in my ears.  It ducks me up in the worst way, dude.”

The embarrassed blush on his face creeps up to his ears and down his neck, his face grows a deeper shade of reddish grey.  “I know that’s your idea of a joke, but I hope to fuck you’re joking.”

“Nope.  I am completely one hundred percent serious.  You called to me like a siren, and now my dick is madly in love with you.”

He glares down at your crotch.  “Tell your nasty crotch I’m not interested in stale cocktail weenies.”

“Okay.  Just wait right here while I break it to the little guy.”  You bend down and bring your face as close to your crotch as you can get.  “Hey-”

Okay, that’s it you can’t.

Karkat bursts into a fit of giggles at the same time you do.

“Dave, what the fuck?”  Karkat’s covering his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle his own laughter.

“I don’t know, man.”  You really don’t.  You were just spouting your usual bullshit and you guess it got a little sillier than usual.  “So are you ready to pitch in with my threads or are you just gonna keep distracting me like an asshole?”

“Oh, like you were so productive before I got here.”  He rolls his eyes.  “Yeah, I’ll help out.  Shove your ass over.”  

Karkat hip checks you so he can get a better look at your disaster area of a closet.  He starts rummaging through your clothes and pulling things out, holding them at arm’s length.  

“You know,” he says as he lays the clothes carefully on your bed, “you’ve got a fuckton of suits for a guy who’s surgically attached to a pair of ratty jeans.”

“Yeah.”  You nod as you pull out one of the suits in question.  “Guy’s gotta have at least one cool suit in case shit gets serious or if he just wants to look sweet and a little intimidating for no reason.”  

“That neon vomit monstrosity’s supposed to make you look intimidating?”  

“No, but it makes me look sick as hell.”  You lay it down with your other clothes.  “Or it did, anyway.  I haven’t worn it in awhile.  Fucker might not even fit anymore, I’ve gained muscle mass since then.”

You flex.

Karkat snorts.  “I didn’t realize you were working your stomach out, Dave.”

“You know what, fuck you.  It’s not like you have a perfectly toned physique yourself.”

“Yeah, but at least I live my dough bodied truth.”  He strikes his own pose and gestures down at his stomach and thick legs.  You look him up and down and nod approvingly.

“You definitely look confident.”  

And he’s honestly not bad looking.  In your opinion as his friend.  He’s got a body that looks fucking perfect for cuddling.  

“Looks can be deceiving, Dave.”  He straightens back up and pulls something else out of your closet.  “Where’d you get all these suits, anyway?”

“Most of them are from John’s dad, I think at least one’s from my mom.”  

“John’s dad?”  Karkat questions.  “Why would John’s dad buy you suits?”  

“I mean I did live with the guy for a couple years.  He’s basically my dad, too.”  

The first year you lived with John and his dad was the same year Karkat came to town.  

“I think I remember that.”  Karkat nods.  “I thought John was your brother for awhile.”  

You laugh.  “Really?  You thought John was my brother?”

“Well yeah, what the hell else was I supposed to think?  Your stupid human relations shit is way more complicated than I’d originally thought when I came here.  It was confusing.  Still is, sometimes.”  He admits.  “Why were you living with them, anyway?”

“Some stuff happened with my bro that I’d rather not get into.”  You admit.  “Rose and my mom were the only family I had left, but they lived across the country and it was decided that uprooting me completely wasn’t in my best interest.  John’s dad offered to take me in for the rest of the school year so we could all finish  before any more major shifts happened.  My mom got here near the beginning of summer and I moved in with her, but I still spent most of my time at John’s because I was more comfortable there.”  

“Oh.”  Karkat says. “I didn’t know any of that.”

“Yeah, it’s not exactly a well known fact about me.”

Fuck, you owe Mr. Egbert so much. He’s such a great dude.   How will you ever repay him for everything he’s done for you?  

“So,” Karkat puts down one last piece of clothing and takes a step back to look at the pile on the bed, “which of this shit are you gonna get rid of?”

“I don’t know.”  You shrug.  “I guess whatever’s got holes or doesn’t fit.”

Karkat gives you a sideways glance, a sly smile on his face.  “Dave are you saying…?”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m saying.”  You nod.

“Fashion show?”  

“Fashion show.”

You send your audience, Karkat, back out into the living room so you can change.  You start pumping up some runway music and throw on some of the clothes from the pile on your bed.  Just like that, you’re ready for the most cliche outfit montage of your life.

You step out of your room,  I’m Too Sexy by Right Said Fred blasting from your stereo as you exit in the most dramatic and modelesque way possible.  You do your best sexy shimmy walk all the way down the hall and over to the couch where you left Karkat waiting impatiently for you.

“So,” you strike a pose that you believe is mildly sexy and extremely embarrassing for you, “what do you think?  You like what you see?”

He wrinkles his nose at you in fake disgust.  “Not at all.  Clothes look alright, though.”

“Cool.  Keeping these ones.”  

You strut back to your room and start the whole process over again.  Occasionally Karkat gives you scathing comments about your ridiculous fashion sense.  Usually he just laughs at your over the top modeling.  One or two times, you get a genuine compliment.

You go out in your neon vomit green suit, it’s a little tighter than you remember, but honestly you’re surprised it still fits at all.  You drape yourself over the coffee table and give Karkat the best smoldering look you can muster.  “Paint me like one of your French girls, Karkat.”

He looks you up and down with such a serious expression that it makes you blush a little for making such a stupid entrance.  

“Shit,” Karkat finally sighs, running a hand over his mouth,  “you look fucking great.”

You’re so flustered by his unexpected compliment you don’t know how to respond.  “I’m sorry, what?”  

“Yeah.  Fuck you, if I’d known you could clean up so nice I would have demanded you  dress at least better than a rabid hobo in public.  I mean that suit’s ugly as fuck and the color makes my bulb’s water but you make it work somehow.  I hate how much you’re pulling this fabric disaster off, Dave.  Really, I do.”

“Thanks,”  you finally manage to reply.  Then, because you’re an idiot, “wanna watch me really pull this fabric disaster off?”

“Oh, yeah, Dave, do that. Please take off your pants and expose your chicken bone legs for my viewing pleasure.”  He starts fanning himself.  “Fuck, I’m getting hot and bothered just thinking about your strip tease.  Don’t even think about popping a button off of your god awful shirt near me or I swear to fuck I’ll swoon right off this couch and onto the edge of the coffee table, probably causing a botched lobotomy in the process.”

“You’re saying I’m literally so hot right now I make you lose brain function?”  You grin as you toy with the top button of your shirt.  “Oh, Karkat, you flatter me.”

Karkat gives you a small shove.  “Go back to your block, asshole.”

You do.  You go right back into the fashion show and pretend you didn’t just do that.  Because what the fuck?  Was that shit you just pulled?  Was that you trying to flirt?  Gee Karkat you like my clothes?   Here let me take them off for you.  Stupid.  Stupid.  What the fuck?

You shake your head and start to change.  The suit is laid on a pile of clothes you want to keep.

The fashion show continues, and everything is the same as normal in regards to Karkat’s reactions to your clothes and terrible posing.  

“Your clothes are too tight.  Your shirt looks like it’s cutting off circulation, how the fuck did you even get that on?”

“What are you doing with your leg, Dave?  Put that fucker down.”

“Who let you buy that?  Who the hell even made that?  That fabric is woven from curses and bad acid trips, you need to burn it.”

The only exception is when you show off a suit.  

“Oh wow, holy shit, you actually look decent.  How dare you.”

“Can you look less good in that nasty ass color?  Thanks.”

“Dave, seriously, you’re not allowed to own this many suits and look so fucking good in them just to have them all waste away as moth food in your dirty closet!  Stop dressing like trash and wear these, you dick!”

“...I should get a suit.”

You stop pretending to model and take on a more casual stance.  Your hands are shoved into your pants pockets.  “You know, maybe you should.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, “with what money?”

“I mean,”  you spread your arms wide, “you could take one of mine?  I’m probably only gonna keep the green one for me.”

Karkat still looks unconvinced.  “You do realize we’re completely different sizes, right?  You’re aware of that?  I’d split your suit in half trying to fit my doughy fat ass in your skinny high school pants.”

“Uh, it’s called a tailor, you dumb bitch?  I’m not just gonna make you squeeze yourself into my pants like a fucking human sausage.  We can get the thing fitted for you, dude.”

“Isn’t that a lot of money?  That I don’t have?”

“Yeah, probably?  I don’t know for sure man, but if you’re that fucking concerned about cost I’ll cover it.  You can consider it a wriggling day present.”

“That’s still a lot of money, Dave!  I can’t let you spend a shit ton of money on me.  I’ll just wait until I can afford to buy one myself.”

“Why, though?”  You ask.  “We have suits here right now, why bother waiting?  If you’d rather not take it as a present then you can pay me back for half later.”

Karkat tilts his head.  “Half?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I bought this suit for myself.  I haven’t spent a dime on this shit, and I’m guessing the cost won’t  be too fucking devastating between the two of us.”

Karkat considers your offer carefully.  “I still don’t like that idea, but I’ll take it.  Give me your least obnoxious suit.”

“That’s gonna be tough.”  You admit.  “I have a black one you might be into?”

You decide not to mention the iron-on patch of a butt you put on the lapel.  It shouldn’t be too hard to remove, you hope.  

“I’ll take that one.”

You finish off the fashion show, and Karkat helps you pack up most of your old stuff into a box for Mr. Egbert to take.  When he arrives to take your things, you ask him if he knows a good tailor you could talk to about getting some alterations done.  When asked for more information about it, you explain that it’s for Karkat.  He gives you a look that you can’t read very well and says it’ll be easier if you give the suit to him.  You fold up the suit and place it on top of the box so it doesn’t get mixed up with the items inside the box.  Mr. Egbert thanks you and ruffles your hair.  

Well, that ends that.  You go back to your room to put what remaining clothes you have away.

“Hey, Karkat!”  You yell from your doorway.

“What?”

“I just realized I gave away over half my wardrobe.  Can I borrow some of your clothes for awhile?”

You rock some of Karkat’s clothes for awhile before you get some new ones of your own.  Up until then (and a little past that) you steal his sweaters and sometimes his pants, both of which you have to roll up.  

Damn if you don’t look good, though.  

Unfortunately you can’t even mention how much you like wearing Karkat’s clothes without getting looks from people.  Rose and Kanaya you understand, because for some fucked up reason Rose still thinks you may be developing a crush on Karkat unconsciously and has somehow dragged Kanaya into her theory.  But John?  Fucking John?  He keeps giving you these big goofy smiles like he knows what you’re really talking about.

Which is ridiculous.  Because you really are talking about how warm and nice Karkat’s sweater is.   

You’re not using his sweater as a metaphor for your feelings for him.

Fuck everybody.

The only benefit you got from all this Karkat discussion is that now you’re pretty good at changing the subject.  During one of these sudden subject shifts, Rose teaches you a new game she’s been playing with Kanaya recently.  She’d developed it to help strengthen her relationships with others (specifically Kanaya) and to learn things she may not have otherwise.  

The game is simple.  You tap twice on someone’s hand and ask them a question.  The other person has to answer the question immediately without leaving them enough time to overthink their answer, ensuring the most honest response possible.  

As an example, she taps on your hand.  “Dave.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your opinion on apple juice?”

“I fucking love it.”

Perfect.”  She takes her hand back. “And that’s how you play.”

She calls it a stream of consciousness game.

Depending on how it’s played, it can be very informative or very intimate.  

You and Karkat play it in as many ways and as many places as you can.  

You’re sitting on the bus with Karkat on the way to Troll Foods.  

Tap tap.

Karkat takes out an earbud.

“Do you miss Alternia?”

He blinks, surprised by your question and maybe more surprised by his answer.  “Not as much as I thought I would.”

You and Karkat are getting ready to watch a movie.  

Tap tap.

“Yeah?”

“How come you’re always wearing shades?”

“Aesthetic.”  You shrug.  “And my eyes are sensitive, too much light hurts them.”

Tap tap.

“Who do you think would win in a fight, Vampire Vin Diesel or a Werewolf Will Smith?”

“Depends on who bites first.”

Tap tap.

“How much ice cream is too much ice cream?”

“If you buy more than two gallons you don’t get to be in charge of the food budget anymore.”

“What about frozen yogurt?”

“Only two gallons!”

“What if I get two gallons and a pint?”

“Dude, please.”

And on and on like that whenever either of you are particularly bored.  You’ll admit, the game is more interesting than you thought it would be.

About a month after you gave Mr. Egbert your clothes, he comes by the apartment with a package for Karkat.  You try to take the package from him, but he says he’d prefer to give it to Karkat himself and see him try it on to make sure it fits.

You invite Mr. Egbert inside.  “Karkat, John’s dad is here with your suit!”

You hear some thumping in his room, followed by Karkat racing out of his room and to both of you.  Karkat’s eyes are huge with excitement as he holds out his hands.  Mr. Egbert hands him the package without a word, and Karkat runs back to his room with it.

You wait in the hall with Mr. Egbert while Karkat changes.

“How have you been, Dave?”  He asks.

You shrug.  “Can’t complain.”

“You’ve been taking care of yourself?  Eating well?  Sleeping?”

“Yeah.”  You nod.  Granted, you’re not eating quite as well as he’d want you to, but you have enough ramen to cover three square meals a day and sometimes Karkat tries to make real food.  You stare straight ahead at Karkat’s door in case he could tell you’re technically lying.  “I think I’ve been doing okay.”

Karkat exits his bedroom, fiddling with a tie that he seems to be struggling to make live up to its name and actually tie.  

“Karkat, you look like you’re having trouble with that.”  Mr. Egbert gestures for him to come closer.  “Let me help you.”

Karkat walks over to him obediently and takes his hands off the tie.  Mr. Egbert ties it with deft fingers, tightening and straightening it carefully so it’s perfect.  

“There you are.”

“Thank you.”  Karkat takes a step back and turns to you.  “So?  How do I look?”

There’s no other way to describe what he’s wearing other than as a plain old black suit.  The buttons and his tie are grey.  You note that your iron on ass patch has been removed.  It’s a completely normal suit, nothing inherently special about it.  But-

“You look amazing.”

He taps your hand.  

“Karkat, I mean it, honestly.”  You laugh.  “Really, you look great.  Fucking superb, you’re really rocking the shit out of that suit.”

Karkat’s beaming.  God he’s so happy to have this fucking suit.  And he should be happy to have it, he does look amazing!  Really amazing!  Fucking hot, even!

Fucking hot in a totally platonic sense.  

Obviously.

“You look good.”  Mr. Egbert nods in agreement. “It looks like it fits well.”

“It does.”  He’s smiling down at the floor and fidgeting with one of his sleeves.  “Thank you.”

“Well, that’s all I came here for, so I suppose I’ll leave you two alone now.”  Mr. Egbert announces.  “Remember to call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, okay.  I’ll walk you out.”  

Karkat goes back to his room, probably to change back into his old clothes.  “Bye.”

You start walking to the door with him, which is actually a completely unnecessary gesture because you were only like ten feet away from it to begin with.  

“So, uh...”  you say as you open the door for him, “how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.  The alterations were completely free of charge.”

God, he’s such a horrible liar.  But you’re not gonna call him out for it.  If he wants to do something nice for you guys then you’re not going to stop him.  

You will, however, sneak some money to John to sneak to his dad later.  

“Wow, that’s a pretty sweet deal.”  You say, pretending to believe his obvious lie.  “Thank you for doing this.  And hey, come over whenever you want!  We’d love to have you over more often.”

“Of course.  I might take you up on that, Dave.”  He starts to leave, but once he’s halfway out the door he takes a deep breath and turns around again.  “I’m glad you’re both doing so well, you and Karkat seem very happy together.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “we are.”

He gives you another quick nod and exits.  You close the door as you watch him walk disappear down the hall and to the stairwell.  

That was...a weird thing he said just now.  A nice sentiment, yeah, but weird as hell.  You can’t put your finger on why it was weird, though…

You brush some hair out of your face, and part of your sleeve unrolls and rubs against your face.  That’s when you remember that you’re wearing one of Karkat’s sweaters.

Then everything clicks.

You’re wearing Karkat’s clothes.  You pretty much told Karkat that you thought he looked hot right to his and Mr. Egbert’s face.  Karkat was blushing the whole time like an anime school girl.  You gave Karkat the suit as a present.

Oh.

OH. 

He thinks you’re dating.  

John’s dad...the guy who is probably the closest thing you have to a dad...pretty much just told you he supports your relationship with Karkat.  A relationship that you don’t have.  Because you don’t have a thing for him at all.

Obviously.

You get another full night of telling yourself that before something else happens to seal your fate.  

You’re pulling an all nighter on some homework due Monday that you’d neglected to start sooner.  In order to keep yourself awake, you’ve been alternating between downing energy drinks and cups of coffee.  At one point you tried to put an energy drink in your coffee, but that tasted like puke and you physically couldn’t bring yourself to choke it down.  

Somehow, you manage to finish all of your homework.  Granted, it’s mostly half assed and probably wrong, but the point is you’re done with it now and deserve sleep.  You get ready for bed, yawning the entire time you do so.  God, you’re exhausted.  

You yawn again, this time you catch a whiff of your breath and cringe.  Your breath smells like shit.  If you breathed directly into someone’s face you could probably kill a man.  Running your tongue across your teeth verifies that not only is your breath horrible, but your teeth are fuzzy like they’re covered in a layer of moss.  

Maybe you should brush your teeth before bed.

You drag your feet towards the bathroom.  It’s a little weird that the bathroom door is closed, but you don’t think anything of it until you turn on the light.

“AH!”

“AH!”  You cover your eyes and slam the door.

“Why would you just walk in unannounced like that, asshole?”

“Why are you taking a bath with the lights off?”

There’s silence from the other side of the door for a minute.  Then Karkat’s voice comes through the door, almost too quiet for you to hear.  “Did you come in for something, Dave?”

“Yeah, I...I wanted to brush my teeth before bed.  It’ll be a quickie, I promise.”

“You’re just getting to bed?”  Karkat asks incredulously.  “Dave, what the fuck?”

“Hey, I was doing my homework!  What’s your excuse?”

“I have insomnia.”

“Okay, fair.”

He sighs.  “You can come in and brush your dirty nubs now if you want.  Just don’t look over here.”

“Okay.”  You cover your eyes and start opening the door.  “I’m coming in.”

Karkat snorts.  “Yeah, I know, dunkass.”

You walk in.  This time you’re not surprised by the sight of your roommate in a bath.  The shower curtain is pulled tightly closed, all that’s visible is Karkat’s silhouette.  

Somehow that’s almost worse.

You open the medicine cabinet and pull out the toothpaste and your toothbrush while trying your best to not to so much as glance in his direction.  It’s a little more difficult than you were expecting it to be.  You can hear the water move, splashing in tiny waves against the porcelain as he shifts into a more comfortable position.  You can hear his breathing, his sighs at having to share such a close space with you in what is now definitely an awkward and unwanted moment.  

You run your toothbrush under the tap.  You continue to try not to look over his way, but you keep just barely catching yourself in the act.

It’s unbearably quiet in here.

“So,” you say casually in an attempt to break the tension, “it smells funky in here.”

Holy shit, was that the best you got?  It smells funky in here?  What the fuck?

“It’s an Alternian ablution mix.”  

Oh, he responded to that stupid thing you said.  Nice.

“An ablution mix?”  You squirt some toothpaste on the brush.  “So like, bath salts or something?”

“It’s closer to bubble bath.  Here,”  He sticks a wet grey arm out from behind the shower curtain and feels around on the floor before his fingers find a medium sized plastic bottle, “you can read the bottle if you want.  There’s an English translation on the side.”

You take it, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the bathroom door so you don’t accidentally peek anything you’re not supposed to be looking at.  You study the bottle while you brush your teeth.

The bottle is clear plastic and filled almost all the way to the top with a vibrant green fluid.  It’s a little thicker looking than most bubble bath soaps you’ve seen.  The label is extremely colorful, swirled with purples and bright reds and greens that clash and almost hurt your eyes to look directly at.  The Alternian on the front is written in bubble letters.  Underneath it in a tiny font is the English translation Karkat mentioned in parenthesis.  

“Soapor Bubbles.”  You mumble around your toothbrush.  “Isn’t sopor illegal here?”

“Concentrated sopor in high quantities is, yeah.”  Karkat replies.  “Which is total hoofbeast shit.  It’s a sleeping aid!  Just because some people like to ingest it and speed up their pan rotting doesn’t make it a completely harmful substance!  But no, humans decided to be idiots about it and make it illegal to use in the way it was intended.  Fucking idiots.”

“Okay, so what’s this, then?”

“It’s sopor diluted with some other natural shit for use in ablution traps.”  He explains.  “The bottle says it’s the highest concentration that’s legally allowed on the planet, or at least on this part of the planet, right now.  And using it in a trap like this is supposed to help simulate how it’s used in recuperacoons back on Alternia.  I don’t usually give a shit about soporific products because they do absolutely fuck all for me, but this one’s new so I thought I’d try it out.”

“Oh.”  You finish brushing your teeth and spit into the sink.  “Is it working, then?”

“I don’t know.” Jesus, you can practically hear him roll his eyes.  “Some prick interrupted me before I had a chance to relax.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get out of your ass.”  You set the bottle down by the tub.  “Goodnight.”

You go straight to your room and collapse onto your bed.  You can’t sleep, and not just because of all the caffeine still buzzing through your system.  

You can’t stop thinking about Karkat.  

That split second where you saw him in the bath.  

Okay, you didn’t see much.  You saw his chest.  But that was more than you’d ever seen before.  

His anatomy was a little different than you were expecting, but it shouldn’t have been much of a shock since you’ve seen trolls take their shirts off (and way more) on tv before.  It was just...different because it was Karkat’s.  

His chest looked so smooth.  Part of you wishes you’d touched it.

Another part of you wishes you’d seen more.

You curl up on your bed and groan into a pillow.  Fuck, what’s wrong with you?

You’ve been trying to avoid it for a long time now, but you don’t think you can anymore.  This isn’t the first image of Karkat you’ve burned into your memory and dwelled on in the middle of the night.  

Karkat smiling, his nose wrinkling every time he laughs at something stupid you said or a joke you made.  Karkat, chewing on his bottom lip and brow furrowed in concentration, eyes out of focus as he’s completely lost in thought.  Karkat rolling up his sleeves up to his elbows before he works on anything.  

Karkat, wearing a suit for the first time, face flushed with excitement and embarrassment and asking you how he looks.

And now this.

No, tonight wasn’t the first time you’ve thought about Karkat in a way that’s more than strictly friendly.  Tonight’s experience was just more potent than they’ve ever been before.  

You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t think this was a long time coming.  This whole time, you’ve just barely been keeping the floodwaters of your feelings at bay, but this was the sudden crack that broke the dam.  Now they’re all spilling out of your subconscious mind and filling you up so you have no choice but to admit it.

You really do have a thing for Karkat.

Even though you’ve finally admitted your feelings to yourself, you manage to keep from revealing them to anyone else.  You don’t tell John, you don’t say shit to Rose, and you definitely don’t mention anything to Karkat.  Instead you keep it cool and act normal, as if nothing’s changed at all.  Because really, what has?  

You became aware of feelings you already had for Karkat.  Literally nothing is different now.

And for a few weeks, nothing changes.

Saturday Movie Night begins as normal.  You  and Karkat go to your local movie rental joint (gotta support your dying local businesses, you know how it is) and pick out a couple flicks.  Karkat tells you you’re not allowed to pick The Room three times in a fucking row or he’ll blow his gasket all over this place and you’ll have to bleach all the gunk out of this shitty retro carpeting.  You then ask him if gasket was his code for his troll load or what because that’s indecent as hell and probably illegal, Karkat, you could get arrested for that.  Then you pick out another movie.

You both head on home with your movies, talking and figuring out which movie you’re going to watch first and what snacks you would have with it, since you’d gone grocery shopping a couple days prior.  But when you round the street corner and saw your building, your plans for the night were put on hold.

From what you could see, there were no lights on in the whole building.

“Well that’s not frightening at all.”  You comment.

Karkat rolls his eyes.  “Here, you big wriggler.  Take my hand, I’ll lead you through the darkness and to the relative safety of our hive.”

You grab his hand.  “My hero.”

Karkat leads you through the dark building and up the stairs to your apartment.  Thank god for Karkat’s nocturnal vision.  He opens the door, and just for good measure you try to turn the lights on.  Of course, they stay off.

“Jesus, I think we’re having a building wide blackout.”  You sigh.  “Guess movie night’s cancelled this week.”

“This is a crockpot full of slow cooked shit.”

“I totally agree. We should probably hole up in the living room til the electricity’s back.  You head over there, I’m gonna go find some candles.”

You use the flashlight on your phone to help you navigate to the closet.  You find about two big candles and one of those little tea light candles held inside a little ceramic jack-o-lantern.  You gather them all up and start heading towards the living room, still using your phone as a guide.

Karkat is sitting on the floor and holding a tub of ice cream on his lap.  

You set the candles down on the table.  “Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”  

“If the electricity’s out, this shit’s gonna melt to a  soupy waste in a few hours.  We need to get our money’s worth out of this.”  He shoves a spoon into the ice cream.  “There’s another in the freezer if you want to get started on it.”

“Damn, sounds like I might have to.”  You dig a lighter out of your pocket and toss it over to him. ��“Light these, alright?”

You head towards the kitchen.  Just as Karkat said, there’s another gallon of ice cream in the freezer.  You pop the lid off and stab a spoon into the full carton.  

There’s light when you walk back into the living room.  The radius is small, but the light bathes what little of the room it reaches with a warm, soothing glow.  You can see Karkat better now.  He’s sitting right beside one of the candles, his face caressed by the soft light.  

Seems like everything you heard about candle light being romantic as fuck was correct.

You swallow and tell your heart to calm the hell down.  Karkat’s literally sitting on the floor eating a gallon of ice cream.  What is there to freak out about?  Stop it.

You sit down on the floor across from him and break into your ice cream.  “I told you two gallons was way more than enough.”

“I still disagree.”  Karkat says, shoveling more ice cream into his mouth.  “We could’ve gotten more.”

“You’re really gonna say that?  Take a look at our current situation.  How the fuck would more ice cream be beneficial to us right now?  The only way I could think to make this predicament any fucking worse than it already is is if we added more ticking dairy soup bombs into the mix.”

“More ice cream would only be a negative in this exact situation.”  He counters.  “Just how many more times do you think this kind of dumb shit is going to happen?  Unless your answer is once every fucking week for the rest of our god awful lives, then I’ll accept that as a legitimate argument.  Until then, shut the fuck up and eat your ice cream.”

“I think you might have a legit problem with ice cream.”

He pops the spoon out of his mouth.  “No.”

“Fantastic counter argument.  I have no rebuttal to that.”

You both keep eating the ice cream.  You’re honestly getting no joy out of this whatsoever and are only eating it to prevent having to deal with a big puddle of rancid milk later.  Honestly, after this you’re probably never gonna want to eat ice cream again.

You get a good way through the gallon before you have to stop.  

“Karkat,” you groan as you flop onto the ground and hold your stomach, “I can’t go on.  I’m dying.  You’ll have to carry on for the both of us.  Here,” you slide your ice cream closer to him with your foot, “take it.  I believe in you and your weird alien dairy absorbing biology.”

He rolls his eyes at you again.  “You’re such a fucking grub, Dave.  What, you ate too much sweetened cow juice and now you have to take a nap because you gave yourself a tummy ache scorfing it down too fast?”

You nod.  “Yes, exactly that.”

“Lightweight.”  He scoffs as he lays down on the carpet next to you.  “At this rate we’re never gonna get through all this ice cream before it melts into garbage.”

“Yeah, especially with you apparently tapping out, you ice cream monster.”

“Hey, you quit first.”

You both lay there on the floor next to each other.  You watch the light from the candles shifting on the ceiling.  The movement is almost hypnotic, it takes your mind off of all the ice cream in your stomach, at least.

There’s a soft tap tap on the back of your hand.  “Yeah?”

“Have you ever been in love, Dave?”

“Jesus,” you laugh out of shock and turn your face to him, “what the fuck brought that on?”

He shrugs.  “I don’t know.  I was just wondering, I guess.”

“I don’t think so.  I’ve had crushes before, and I’ve dated some.  But...I don’t think I’ve been in love before.”

You tap tap on Karkat’s hand.  “What about you?  Have you ever been in love?”

“Fuck, yes.  I fall in love all the time.  Constantly.”

You tap tap on his hand again.  “Are you in love now?”

He blushes.  A small smile spreads across his face.   “ Maybe.  I don’t know for sure.”

Maybe.  Your heart sinks a little.  

You hate yourself for it.  You should be happy for Karkat!  He’s your friend!  He might be in love and that’s great.

It’s great.

Tap tap.

“Are you okay, Dave?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Stomach’s mellowing out, I think.”

He frowns.  You both know that’s not what he meant.  You clearly had something on your mind.  But technically you answered his question, and there’s nothing he can do about that.

Tap tap.

“Karkat, do you really think there’s any way we can eat all this ice cream?”

“Fuck no, but I’m ready to do it or die trying.”

You laugh.  “Okay, I can get behind that.  I think I can try eating some again.  Switch ice creams with me?”

“Yeah, okay.”  He sits up and trades ice creams with you.

You sit up and take small, experimental tastes of Karkat’s.  Your stomach protests a bit, but not as badly as before.  This is definitely something you’ll regret in the morning.

Tap tap.

“What’s your opinion on chocolate ice cream?”  

“Honestly?  A little overrated.  It’s alright, but out of the three classic flavors, it’s the shittiest.”

On and on, your night continues like this.  You eat your ice cream, ask questions, lay on the floor.  Time doesn’t feel like it’s moving, but your phone with its dwindling battery life and the dripping wax of the candles says otherwise.

Tap tap.

“When’s the last serious relationship you’ve had?”

“Define serious.”

“Seven months or longer.”

“Fucking never, then, I guess.”

Tap tap.

“You ever had a relationship you regretted?”

“Most of them.”  Karkat replies immediately.  “Probably Sollux the most.  We were on and off during high school, and that was mostly my fault.  I wasn’t sure what I wanted with him, my emotions were spread all over the goddamn grid like the lines weren’t even there.”

“Are you on with him now?”

“No.  We split up a few weeks before graduation.  We’re still friends, but I think we’re going to be staying off from now on.”

Tap tap.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“The greatest rapper/film director who ever lived.”

“Realistically.”

“An archeologist.”

Tap tap.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

“A film critic.”

“Realistically.”

“A failed critic.”

Tap tap.

“Did you ever think we would be friends, Dave?”

“Honestly?  Not really.”

Tap tap.

“What was your worst heartbreak?”

“Wow, clearly I’ve been going easy on you.”  Karkat laughs.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Yes I do.”  He replies.  “And it’s alright, it was awhile ago I don’t really give a shit about it anymore.”

“Alright, if you say so.”

“It was the end of our sophomore year of high school.  At this point I’d known John for roughly a whole sweep.  I...developed a crush on him pretty early on-”

“-uh, yeah, I’d say.  It was pretty damn obvious.  Everyone and their fucking mom knew that.”

“-shut up!  Do you want to hear my story or not?”

“Sorry, yeah.  Continue.”

“The last week of school, I convinced myself it was the perfect time to uh...confess my feelings to him.  I spent most of the week going over what I would say in my head.  I had this whole horrible confession memorized.  I almost recited a poem, but I decided against it and fuck, that was the best decision I ever made.  I even went through different scenarios in my head over how I thought he might react.  Good ones where he said yes and agreed to a date with me immediately, and bad ones where he outright rejected me.”

“Sounds like you were prepared.”

“Yeah, I thought I was.  But of course, since life seems to enjoy fucking me over in the most sadistic way imaginable, I wasn’t prepared for what ended up happening.”

“What’d he say?”

“I don’t remember exactly what he said anymore, but it was along the lines of ‘thanks I guess’.  Then he left.”

“Whoa, wait, what the fuck?  He just left?  You were like ‘hey, I love you’ and he was like ‘cool, peace out’?  What the fuck?”

“That’s exactly what I thought!  I mean, we’ve talked about it since then and I get it now but at the time I just kept thinking ‘What the fuck?  What did I do wrong?’ and I spent the whole summer holed up in my hive replaying it over and over and whining to anyone who listened.”

“That’s...wow.  That was harsh.”

So that’s what happened to Karkat that summer.  And you guess that explains why he was so freaked out that one time he saw John that summer at the gas station.  God, you feel like such an asshole for being happy to not have him around at the time.

“Before you try to ask me about my worst heartbreak, same.”

“Same?”

“John.  Same.”

“You can’t just say same!  That’s not a real answer!”

“It is if I say it is.”  You counter, grinning.  “Same.”

“Fine.  Fine, whatever.”  Karkat huffs.  “I have no question, then.”

“It’s cool, I got one.”

Tap tap.

“Karkat,” whether it’s a whim, or because you can’t stop thinking about why Karkat would start a game with a question about your love life, or because you simply can’t hold yourself back anymore, you somehow ask an impossible question, “do you like me.”

His anwer’s immediate.  “Yes.”

“No, I mean…” god, this is embarrassing, “do you like like me?”

He bursts out laughing.  “Dave, what the hell?  Are you twelve?”

“Yes.”  

“Yeah,”  Karkat admits.  He rolls his eyes again, but the gesture’s ineffective because of his big goofy smile and the blush creeping across his face, “I like like you.  I like like you a lot.”

Tap tap.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Dammit, Dave, don’t be difficult!”  Karkat bangs a fist against your chest lightly.  “Do you like like me, too, or not?”

“Of course I like like you, too.”  You’re smiling like an idiot.  “I can’t believe you even felt like you had to ask that.”

“Well, you did!”  He counters, as if his feelings for you had been obvious.

Fuck, maybe they had been and you were just too blinded trying to hide your own feelings that you  hadn’t even noticed.

Tap tap.

“When’s the last time you kissed someone?”

Karkat gives you a devious look.  “It’s been awhile.”

“Do you want to change that?”

“Fuck, yes.”

And that’s all the coercement you need.  You practically fling yourself at Karkat, bumping your faces together in a way that is both embarrassing and slightly painful.  Your shared eagerness and awkwardness makes you both laugh.  Through a fit of giggles, your lips finally meet his.

His mouth is sweet and sticky and feels warm pressed against yours.  It’s amazing.  

It lasts all of three seconds before you both pull away.  You can’t concentrate on trying to kiss him because you can’t believe this is happening.  You’re both still laughing.  Karkat gives you another quick peck before nuzzling his face into your neck.  His face is warm against your skin.  He tap taps against your chest.

“So you really like me?”

“Karkat, holy shit.”  You laugh.  “We just kissed!  You really think you have to ask me that?”

“Shut the fuck up and answer my question, asshole.”

“Yes, Karkat, I like you.”  You can’t stop smiling, it feels so good to say.  “I really do.”

It’s a good night.

You wake up to banging at your front door and a sour feeling in your stomach.  That would be all the ice cream.  You crack open an eye and everything is so bright you have to squint.

All the lights are on.  “Oh, sweet, the electricity’s back.”

You sit up and stretch a bit because fuck, your back is sore as shit.  It feels like someone’s been tap dancing a lively jig across your spine all night long.  As you stretch, you notice something beside you stir.

It’s Karkat, fast asleep on the floor in an almost fetal position.  Just looking at him and remembering what happened last night is enough to bring a smile to your face.  He looks so sweet, asleep like that.  Speaking of sweet…

Seems like you and Karkat didn’t accomplish last night’s goal of saving the ice cream from soupification.  Over half of it went to waste after all.  

Oh well, can’t win them all.

Karkat’s snoring, you’re not sure how you didn’t notice that before.  It’s not a bad sound, but it’s loud.  Probably explains why you didn’t hear the knocking at first.  

Right, the door.

You scramble to your feet and fling it open.

There stands Rose, well dressed and annoyed.

“Fuck, I missed brunch!”

She nods.  “You missed brunch.”

“God, Rose, I’m so sorry,” you run a hand through your messy and currently kind of greasy hair, “there was a blackout last night so my phone’s been dead for awhile and my alarm’s on my phone so it didn’t go off and I didn’t wake up but fuck that’s no real excuse it’s an explanation at best I’m sorry.”

Rose sighs.  “You can tell me all about how you managed to miss brunch at our impromptu early to moderately timed lunch.  Go get changed into something presentable, I’ll wait.”

“Okay, cool.”  You nod and let her inside.  “Thanks, I’ll be quick.”

You run to your room just as Rose explores Karkat in the remains of last night’s events.  Knowing Rose, she’ll probably wake Karkat up.  As you pull on one of his sweaters, you wonder if he’ll tell her about anything that happened the night before.

“DAVE AND I KISSED YESTERDAY!”

Well, that answers that.

You run a comb through your hair and head back to the living room.  Rose is grinning smugly at you.

“What happened to ‘I don’t have a crush on Karkat’?”

You shrug.  “Lied.  Ready to go?”

“Yes.”  She nods before glancing over to Karkat.  “You should invite your boyfriend out to lunch with us, Dave.  Clearly we have a lot to talk about.”

Rose exits, leaving you to ask Karkat by yourself.

“So, uh…” you stare awkwardly at your feet, “lunch?”

He snorts.  “Sure.”

You wait for him to get changed into something that isn’t last night’s clothes.  It doesn’t take him very long, especially since he left his hair as is.

“Can you believe Rose just technically arranged our first date?”  You say incredulously as you lock the door behind you.

“I can’t believe she called me your boyfriend”  Karkat counters as you walk down the hall together.

“Well you are, aren’t you?”

It only seems to strike him then that this is true.  He smiles.

“Yeah,” Karkat takes your hand and squeezes it tightly, “I guess I am.”

[chiseki]

Figured I’d make this an intro post, since I’m pretty much using this alternate url as an “out” url compared to my usual vagueness.

I’m Joshua. Yes, that matches the sidebar, so it’s not really surprising here.

And that would surprise an entire two people following my main blog that know me irl because the rest were previously informed. Maybe three people, I forget if the last one is on tumblr or not.

Which is, by the way, ““““““““fun”““““““““

Yup, having like three local friend circles that had relations to each other outside of myself, and only one of them being in the know is fun.

You can basically stop reading at this point, because from here on out is just gonna be a massive time rewind to.....jeez, fuck if I know when, my childhood? I promise there will be time skips, we don’t need that mess played at normal tempo. (Also some funny stories after the giant gap in the text, if you want to scroll for that).

Most of this story is actually located in college, but the only real indicator (aside from having a general dislike of dresses) was way back when I was in all of second grade--apparently I was so damn insulted I burned all these facts into my memory--and an older kid was brought into the classroom, gave us this cool sales pitch about do we want to learn to shoot a bow, go camping, build campfires, etc

and then was like “OH YEAH THIS IS THE BOY SCOUTS IT’S BOYS ONLY”

I was so hyped lol.

Wound up being in a mediocre girl scout troop later, and my brother obviously got directed into boy scouts. At which point I got to find out that their camping trips were mostly getting rained on and finding black windows and getting taught woodworking by a dude missing a chunk of finger.

So more suffering than child me would have expected, but they still got to build fires and go REAL camping and shoot bows and rifles and shit.

Meanwhile, in girl scouts, we went to this one set of cabins every year. We never stayed in the damn cabins, because someone would find A Bug in there, or a spider, and then someone ELSE would have the same issue, and no one wanted to be in a cabin alone let alone be the only one in the cabins at all, and we always wound up sleeping in the air conditioned lodge that was visible from the damn cabins.

Except the one year where we went to a different camp, stayed in the legendary caboose, and there was a bat sleeping on the outside of the window so no one wanted to sleep there except me.

My scout group was weak.

I miss the cookies, though.

Anyway, due to not being forced into gender-targeted toys and getting to play with whatever the fuck I wanted, I also have jack shit for anything resembling an early warning sign aside from the above.

Actually, scratch that, I was not really a fan of dresses. I mean, this was fair in general, since they were usually scratchy, didn’t fit my arms/shoulders right, were designs I had no say in, and everyone would get on my case if the dress might get even a LITTLE dirty. Had some skirts I liked in middle school, but even that was a mess of having to wear tights because my genes have never resulted in anything resembling a thigh gap.

And I was like, constantly trying to play with the guys in grade school. And they’d periodically get that “NYEHHHHHHH GUYS ONLYYYYYY” shit going on. That was never not infuriating tbh.

Flash forward to high school, still basically left to my own devices. Only indicator here was that I was just tickled fucking pink whenever I heard that I either passed at cons or was at least tossed in the “maybe.......?” zone.

Flash forward to college. I honestly don’t remember what set me off on thinking about it, but started eyeballing my gender with a microscope. Unfortunately I couldn’t apply a litmus test like sexuality, so there was a lot of “uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfuck” going on.

Actually, I think part of it was that on the forum I hung out on, a lot of the old regulars had assumed I was a dude until a childhood friend had dropped a pronoun several times in succession & asserted its correctness, which then led to a discussion along the lines of “whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat”.

But yeah, started testing the waters.

Also tried going to a LGBT+ club like, once. With the gal I was either dating at the time or was about to be dating, my memory is shit tbh. “HEY SO HOW ABOUT WE ALL JUST COME OUT TO EACH OTHER, A BUNCH OF STRANGERS <33333333″ still freaks me out, honestly. I get why it’s generally done, but like, no thanks. But I was horrendously obvious in ducking about the gender question and she totally called me out on it later in private lol. Also got me my first binder, but I digress.

Anyway, basically spilled on “I’m.....probably..............? a dude...........? jsyk??????” to my immediate friends, which was met with a lot of “.....YEAH ACTUALLY THAT MAKES SENSE” and a “hang on I need a dictionary........ok I get it”

I think I was the least smooth part of anything resembling a coming-out just due to like, me not wanting to have to tell people to do things for me? It’s something I find extremely awkward, like I know it’s that horribly stereotypical dating thing of “what’s wrong, bby, what do I have to do” “I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO TELL YOU WHAT TO DO” but.

And that’s an entire digression about how my relationship with my mother often included me saying a lot of shit I had to say convincingly, but didn’t mean at all, and probably led to me having fuckall faith in what people say, most especially when under a forced prompt. I could do an essay on that, but not here.

Which, admittedly, I’m gonna rewind here because I think it’s funny in hindsight, but it means the dictionary reaction went like “SO...........I’M.............TRANS?” “What?” [thinking this is pushback on the idea] [PANIC MODE] “UH” “Like, literally, what does that word mean, I've never heard it in my life.” “OH. WELL. Heh. Uh. That internal reaction I had was embarrassing then, oops.”

Anyway.

Then the collective action was, “well, have you picked a name what do you MEAN you haven’t picked a name, we can’t just run about calling you by your deadname after all that”

And I tossed some names out, that I’m not going to list, because they were just fucking awful. So I got interventioned and the method became throwing names at me until they stuck.

Adam? Nah I knew an Adam and I can’t unassociate with that

Noah? Violin teacher’s third kid was named Noah. Same issue with Gabriel and Caleb.

Benjamin? I fucking grew up with a Benjamin he would kill me.

you get the idea.

And those were like, actual reasonable rejections. At least half the time I was just like “I DON’T LIKE HOW IT SOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNDS.” Take, for example, Josh. I 1) knew one in high school and he was a piece of work and 2) I just, inexplicably, don’t like how the word sounds.

Which is part irony and part masochism that JoshUA stuck.

I mean, that name had pre-existing connotations for me. I had played..........a game.........in high school. And given that my options were pretty shafted to Stereotypical White Boy Names if I didn’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, some positive(?) pre-existing connotations were going to be needed.

Incidentally, I had a v. sweet trans girl offer me her deadname, which was a cool name, but just, like, didn’t fit me in particular so. She also picked her name by RNG tournament, with the top 10 baby names for her year being the competitors. Which was neat and worked well for her, but I know I would have just re-run the fucking tourney if I didn’t like the winner lol.

But anyway, continuing on to a less flowery story. I’ll add some blank lines so it’s skippable. No need to set off every other person with gender issues here.

Decided to come out to my family. Apparently time fuzzed down my memories of being devoured by mosquitos outside while my parents were trying to decipher that their kid was holding hands with a girl in the back of the van and that girl had been planned to sleep over that night, and despite the fact that booth teens wouldn’t be jumping to sex that fast nor had the equipment to make a kid between them....it was Reason For Concern like a straight couple sharing a bed.

I mean, my mom was convinced that anything touching the nether regions was SEX and PREMARITAL SEX was EVIL. But I digress.....again.

So. I tell them. And the reaction ranged from “well ok I mean you’ve always been weird” (thanks, bro) to “uh I guess my last name’s odds of getting inherited just doubled........?” to “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME”

Yeah. That last one was word for word. Some stuff was thrown, lots of crying (”I CAN’T EVEN DO MY MAKEUP AND IT’S YOUR FAULT”)--both of which were not my doing, though I got shocked(?) into my own set of tears iirc.

I think I set a speed record for climbing back into the closet. Like, a week later, everyone was pretending it never happened. I sorta emotionally cut ties with my mom at that point--kept it civil, but Did Not Want to discuss my life or friends at all with her or in any way that would get back to her.

So obviously, no one in my family knows I go by Joshua. If they asked, I would tell them, but lo and behold, zero questions, they never brought it up again, etc. And I’ve been very careful about not letting that knowledge spread, not putting it on the internet in a way that connects back to my legal name, being primed at any point to pretend “Joshua” is a mutual friend and to not respond to that name if someone accidentally calls me by it.

Incidentally, during Yet Another Family Counseling that was at least performed at an individual level this time, my mom apparently told the counselor that she thought she handled that well. Last I checked, making the situation about yourself and doing the whole “woe is me, the mother, with a child like this” shpeal was not “well”.

And I mean the WHOLE shpeal. If you’ve ever had the misfortune to see the posts by parents of trans kids that wax soliloquy about losing their child and mourning their “death” (especially the ones that aren’t all “but I got a new kid!”) like, the ones especially cut from the same cloth that would be like “my child is autistic but ~I~ am the inspiration for waking up in the morning” like no, your kid is the inspiration for dealing with you.

And if anyone is wondering, this is basically the Midwest Stereotype for....LGBT, interracial dating, etc rejection imo. Seemingly ok with it, but NO WAIT HANG ON, NOT MY CHILD. Like, I legit had trans kids explained to me (albeit without terms for it) at a relatively young age by my mother and yet. “X exists but not in our good christian neighborhood” attitude. Ugh.

So where was I? Hmm, yes, funny Joshua stories. Ok I have like ONE story. One of my friends that was in the know finally got me to play Trails in the Sky. Now, this sucker has a chunk of text lead-in with a ~mysterious~ boy that young Estelle’s father has brought home, and the whole discussion skips his name, ending on “my name is....”. Then it time-skips to present day, finally casually dropping this dude’s name, which, obviously, is Joshua.

My friend did not tell me this.

No warning, nada. Only Estelle had really come up in conversation.

And then we collectively dragged another friend into the abyss with us, except he wasn’t in the know. We also had him streaming his playing sessions when our schedules coincided, which led to--because of a shitty accuracy stat--him yelling (as we did) “JOSHUA!” frequently in combat.

I debated on just responding “Yes?” randomly one day in the most casual closet-exit possible. Then procrastinated by deciding to just be out with it at the end of the first game since he’d also played twewy.

Some of you have probably started to eye my avatars with judgement in your hearts. That’s fair.

Anyway, we had forgotten about another character that practically had his name, so at least I had someone to share my weird feelings with.

And then, he started the second game, and I didn’t hold back on responding “yes?” every time “Joshua” was used as an interjection.

Also because of that one post about biblical names, I will respond to any use of “Jesus”.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

tfw hating life enough for a reeadmooore

‪yesterday afternoon i’d blocked out 3 pgs in my sketchbook & by that night i was thinking like well i’m so close to finished the sketchbook finally (ive been using it about a yr and a half by now) that i could just stop drawing when i hit the end there‬

but i’d mentioned the impending end of my sketchbook space a friend is already in the process of sending over some they havent ever used so that will at least mean if i stop drawing it’ll just have to be because i want to lol

like in this case it’s special b/c of course i’ve had periods where i’m like smh what if i just don’t draw anymore, but that’s tended to be about being frustrated w some element or other of it all. this time it was mostly just that every day of my life i have a tiny bit less motivation or energy or etc. yesterday i was thinking all day about offing myself, which i’d done the day before, and done today too

like, it’s nothing new, i’ve been hating being alive and wanting to kms and only moving in the direction of less disappointment to more disappointment and having to care less about things i previously cared about because for one reason or another things get to a point where it only adds frustration to my life anymore

but despite depression and wanting to die and life being miserble all being Not New, that doesn’t mean that it doesnt matter anymore, because after day after day after day after day after day of it for years and years, you’re in a worse place than you were a while back, even if you do feel the same. even a single day of wishing you were dead the whole time is shitty enough. feeling overall like even if you’re in a good mood now, you know your life is trash and you’re going to go back to feeling bad soon, is also shitty enough

like the thing that drawing had going for me is that, like reading and writing sometimes and even some other shit, it’s something i like to do. i do it for myself, really. but it helps that its the way i trick ppl into being here in the first place to see anything i’m talking about. i have really crap appeal. i mean i’m bad at being appealing thru shit i draw, but it’s still way more of something anybody wants vs like five yrs worth of my text posts. like...i have over 10x more followers than i did on a blog where i rarely drew anything ever

but anyways despite me drawing b/c i enjoy it, i enjoy enjoying things less. always in the middle of that “loss of interest in pleasure” life lol.......it doesn’t really matter how long i do or don’t keep drawing, b/c i mean, it doesn’t much matter to me whether i’m having fun or not. i can be enjoying drawing and still wanting to die, because that’s whats happening lol.....nothing that’s a personal factor of my life is all that important to me, because my personal existence is not that important to the person living it

also it sure hasnt helped that my sense of things like whether my life can get better or i’ll have the opportunity to pursue my nonexistent dreams or live an ideal version of my life that also doesn’t exist are all at all-time lows and only just getting lower day by week by month by year. the only way i can even look at cheering myself up is from a day-to-day perspective. and i can have a slightly more fun day than usual and then be extra down on the very next day b/c of how being a bit less numb means you’re crap-feeling emotions are now game too. and i’m very aware of how, if you’re not in a position that insulates you enough, if things get worse for you, that makes “things getting worse for you” more likely, and it’s an exponential drop that gets harder and harder to climb out of, and even if you move back up a notch out of good luck, you’re still just as likely to be knocked back down to where you were. the odds of me suddenly not only not fucking hating being alive but also having a life that doesnt fucking make me hate being alive? that’s a funny joke

‪also it’s frustrating that whether i feel good or miserable on any given day only really exists if i say something about it in a post like this lol... like i might feel awful one day but if i dont have it in me to spend ages writing about it, which is difficult also b/c putting feelings into words where ppl will only fully Get It if they’ve felt that way too, anyways if i dont write about how shitty i feel and post it then maybe later on when i’m feeling a little better or feeling a different kind of shitty, i also won’t be interested in being like “oh btw i felt awful the other day.” and if i don’t mention it, as far as everyone in the world knows, it was never a thing that happened, so it might as well not have. i mean, as a person i might as well not be happening, especially since i don’t want me to be happening lol‬

and like i was saying to someone the other day, its a lot harder via text to talk about shit b/c like, if you’re with a friend in person, you can talk abt boring or silly things and its easy and makes a good conversation. whereas talking via twitter means it would be clunky and time consuming to layout exactly had empty and depressing my existence is, and silly shit isn’t even worth the energy when you’re having a convo w lengthy gaps in it, so you can only really talk about the broadest, most interesting shit. which i don’t have much of, oh well

i do like talking and talking to people actually, it’s just rough when it’s all a few ppl online, even though i alsp extremely appreciate those people and enjoy the talking. it’s like, chatting to ppl online is like a piece of chocolate cake. it’s delicious and you love it, but it would be amazing if it was the extra bonus on top of getting solid meals every day, instead of it being the only thing you have to eat and you get it maybe once or twice a week and it’s still wonderful and is all the more valuable for it, but it isnt the same as getting enough to eat always, or Knowing you’ll keep getting enough to eat

anyways my social life is always its own special kind of depressing, even when i AM in the same place as friends. you’d have a hard time finding a situation where the concept of What I Have To Say seems interesting or even relevant to other ppl. and im not sure i’ve ever been in groups where i feel totally comfortable with everyone there and don’t feel out of place. so talking about the idea of knowing you always have access to someone to talk to or be with in person or having friends who you know you can hang out with and they actually like you and you still expect to have them a few yrs down the road—all that’s always been a “well, in theory i mean” or “at least, i imagine it would be like that” issue for me

tbh i generally feel the most comfortable enjoying myself when i do something alone; maybe it’s because i have more experience of ppl im around treating me really shittily than treating me well

ohhhhhh wellllllllllllllll what else do i have to talk about. hmmm the fact that feeling like i wanna die only seems to be regarded as an issue of “well are you gonna or not,” aka if you havent its a Victory and a happy situation instead of it being a matter of EVERY DAY I’M A CONSCIOUS ORGANISM I WISH I WAS DEAD AND MY EXISTENCE HAS BEEN HEADED IN THAT DIRECTION FOR AT LEAST THE LAST HALF OF IT

like how heartwarming that i’ve been actively suicidal for how many years? 6? 8? but i havent yet!! i always want to but just never get around to it and so this time for sure lol no more fooling around!! oh dammit and there goes another birthday still alive. like this is some elusive new years resolution or novel i mean to write.

funny i mention it because there’s practically nothing anymore that i want to do. even if i THOUGHT my life would ever become okay, i want fuckall out of it. i only exist, baby............and it’s like i said earlier, whenever i try to come up with a sad amount of potential motivations NOT to die, i have to realize that none of the shit is actually for me, or directly about me, or centered on me. like, this shit lost its charm ages ago.

well anyways. i suppose thats all i can think to say now. and it doesn’t make a difference whether i talk about my shitass existence and how crap i feel or not. it just gives the chance for a bit of it to exist in the world via a few other ppl being aware of it for a few minutes maybe, because who DOESNT want to thoroughly read a shit essay by some random weirdo about how everything sucks. the end

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 22.11.17 lb

ever since @bengudill​ commented that anika looks like carrie, i can’t stop thinking about it. she does, she really does. makes it look rather morbid. 

luckily, anika’s about to get a HAPPY ENDING. GET IT, YOU GUYS? “HAPPY ENDING”? 😉😉😉😏😏😏😏 HEHEHEHE I’M HILARIOUSSSS 😆😆😆😆

billu ne phenka toh paanika kaise peeche reh sakti hai???? uska toh haq banta hai! 

i can’t help but feel devastated at all the effort it’s going to take cleaning this house. look at the pardeeee behindddd!!!!!! god, those stains are never coming outtttt!!! 😫😫😫😫😫😫 #adulthood 

also it looks like someone got fucking murdered in here... which considering this is oberoi mansion.... has probably already happened before.

daaaaaaaaaaamn, o jaana took on a whole other tune. not sure how i feel about it. it’s kiiiinda creepy???? 

out of context screencap: 

tell me this doesn’t look like something out a fucking horror movie. it does, it totally does. jesus christ, i’m kinda scaring MYSELF now. 

yo man i really feel this red paint was a bad idea. they look like some creepy ass murderer couple whose fetish is killing people and playing in the victim’s blood. like seriously.... this looks creepy as fuck. a different colour wouldn’t have made it look so ... dexter-y. 

this fuckall music isn’t helping. 

HAND SEX HAND SEX HAND SEX!!!!!! 

oh thank god the music changed to laal ishq. thank the lorddddddd. AND THE MOOD OF THE SCENE HAS ENTIRELY CHANGED TOO. BEHOLD THE POWER OF BG MUSIC, PPL!!!!!!!!!!! 

oh yaaaaaaaaaaaas anika, you get that boy nakey nakey nekkkid! 

i can’t help but giggle a little here at how turned on she’s getting by slathering paint on him. like... talk about being a lady in the streets but a freak in the sheets. 😜😜😜

oh well, whatever you’re into, girl. i’m just glad you’re getting some. 

A+ aesthetics wrt to framing and cinematography. 

oh god girl don’t get it on your faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaace. you’re gonna break out like fucccccccccck. 😩😩😩

i’m sorry, but hot husband and orgasms you can score once again in life, but once your skin is fucked, that’s it. one stupid orgasm isn’t worth killing your skin for!!!!!!!!! 😣😣😣😣

okay can’t stop giggling at the 80s-movie-style shot of the ~~SEXY LEGS~~~~~~~ 😂😂😂

.... are they attempting to clean up the mess by rolling around and using themselves as human sponges???? 😕😕😕

ok aesthetics and all theek, did they get beyond first base or not???? coz.... clothes still be on. and there was no suggestive dori opening either. (tellywood signal for sex. dori open = confirmation of 👉🏽👌🏽 👉🏽👌🏽 👉🏽👌🏽 ) I NEED SUGGESTIVE DORI OPENING FOR CONFIRMATION YOOOOOOO

YO MAN DID JUST KISSING HER TAKE IT OUTTA BILLU??????!?!!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? IS THERE ANY OF BULBUL’S BOOTI LYING AROUND, COZ UM... LOOKS LIKE THEY WERE 100% RIGHT TO ATTEMPT DRUGGING THIS FOOL. 

gosh, how disappointing for anika. poor girl. 

“is waale par.”

ugh ok this fucker is mad cute. fuck him. no i mean, LITERALLY, ANIKA. 

loook how happppppppppy she issssssssss. i���m crying happpy tearssssssss for my giiiiiiiiiirl. 😭😭😭😭😭

gosh, who’s at the door though? 

OH NO THE FAM’S BACK 😧😧😧😧

“yeh koi time hota hai aane ka????” “yeh koi time holi ka bhi nahi hai.”

hahahahahahahahahaha 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

LMAOOOOOOOOOOO ZERO DIALOGUE NEEDED. HAHAHAHAHA FUCKING AMAZINGGGGGGG. 😂😂😂😂😂😂

hahahahaha rudra’s satisfied exhale, as if he’s the one who did something. 

poor omRu volunteering to clean up their dirty paint-sex mess. height of bro-chaara only. 

guh. guess we’re supposed to take it that they did it. coz anika be ~*~*~*~*GLOWING*~*~*~*~*

oooop, girls are here to get the deeeeeeets. 

again, no dialogue necessary. post-orgasmic glow is a helllllll of a highlighter. it be telling them all they need to know.

bulbul looks so tearfully happy at anika’s joy. i’m cryingggggggggg. 😭😭😭😭😭😭

“I FINALLY GOT LAID YOU GUYS. FINALLY. AFTER ONE YEAR OF SEXUAL TENSION AND SHENANIGANS, YA GIRL FINALLY GOT HERS!!!!!!!!!!” 

ugh look at these stupid dorkssssssss holding hands under the table like a buncha teenagers. so cute. 

this is where being left handed helps me out! no one can ask me why i’m eating with ulta haath!

now to find a boy i don’t despise enough to hold my right hand. this is the hard part. oh well. 

*holds a cuteass kitten in right hand* 😸😸😸

LMAO RIKARA’S SMIRKS. BESTTTTTTTTTT. 😂😂😂😂

lol, shivaay’s going to fucking killlllllllllllll rudra. is ladke ke pait mein kuch bhi nahi rehta. 

LMAO GAURIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII ET TU BRUTUSSSSSSS

loving omki rollling his eyes at her. i knew that’s exactly how he’d react to her being silly and I LOVE ITTTTTTTTTT 😍😍😍😍

omki shomki taking a page out of bade bhaiyya’s book 😏😏😏

all the elders are like TF YOU IDIOTS ON???? 

gauriiiiiii’s been caught out toooooo. not giggling so much now, are ya, bulbul???? 

“mera nahi ho raha na....”

hahahahahahahahaha 😂😂😂😂😂

abbe idiot pehle apni harkatein sudhaar. phir tera bhi hoga. 

lolololol aniRi laughing while shivKara yell at rudra. UGH ALL MY KIDS ARE BEING EXTRA CUTE TODAY

ouff, dadi too. 

wow, ok. abhay knows to make AN ENTRANCE. 😐😐😐

i guess i should be grateful that pichli baar ki tarah ghar mein bike nahi ghusaaya.  😒😒😒

maybe clarify what you’re talking about, abhay, coz every single person in this house has a long list of sins, and no one knows which of those EXACTLY you’re talking about. 

chota billu is taking on bada billu. ladke mein dum hai. 😗😗😗

shivaay is sooooooo damn easy to provoke. just say “tum oberois...” and he’s foaming at the mouth. 

chill billu. like.... enjoy those post-sex endorphins for a bit longer. 

wow, rudra getting all high-and-mighty oberoi too. 

OUFF KYA SACH YAAAAAAAR KAUNSA SACH AB THOOOOK BHI DEEEE 420 EPISODE HOGAYE “SACH” KE BAARE MEIN SUNTE SUNTE 🙄🙄🙄🙄

ok what ghatiya editing, it’s making me dizzy. 

oufff abhay, all you saw was tej with a matchstick. how is that fucking proof? you’re such an idiot. 

i mean, i’m not doubting that tej has done some super fucked up things, and probably has something to do with this too (realistically), but that’s hella flimsy “PROOF”

oh suddenly om is allllllll about the oberoi name. pfffffft. fuck outta here.

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS BB-BOY. DROP THAT BOMBBBBBBB!!! 

.... oh nooooo, abhay just abandoned svetlana. this is notttttttt gonnaaaa be goooooood. for him. 

jethji ka beta. meaningggggggg.... dadaji oberoi’s brother’s son. making abhay second cousin. hmm. 

lol why are anika and gauri shocked. they don’t know who the fuck vishal is. 🤔🤔🤔

man, they really shoulda cast this one to play a half-brother to shivaay. look how similar they look when they do the simul-turn! 😧😧😧

guarantee? the fuck guarantee you want? a dna test? coz those work sooooooooo well in your universe. 

on flip side, come the fuck on dadi, no one is someone’s kid just coz they KNOW of their existence. what nonsense logic???? i know of neil armstrong. does that make me his daughter?????? is ghar mein kisi ke bhi paas 2 paise ka dimaag nahi hai. 😒😒😒

shakti/tej are so fucking shady. i think i believe vishal, even though i just met him. 

i srsly think omkara might be vishal’s baby, with all the emphasis on truth and what not. what if the babies were switched?!!?!?!?!?

shivaay looks contrite. that’s a first. 

omfg he’s the opposite of angel (from buffy) - having sex AWAKENED his long-repressed soul! lololol enjoy the torment of having a conscience now, billu! 😁😁😁

ohnoe, allegations against vishal. he looked so nice and cuddly though.

for once, obros seem at a loss of wtf to do. 

ouff, anika ki bhaashanbaazi. seems like foaming-at-the-mouth-oberoi-defensiveness is an STD and shivaay’s given it to anika. ugh. 😒😒😒😒😒

of course the tape isn’t gonna work. like... OF COURSE IT ISN’T. 

[deanodawg04]

Tagged by @desuwings​ aaa ily<3

(these questions dont make any sense btw like “THE LAST: lost someone special:” wtf is this shit)

RULES: you must answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people

THE LAST: 1. drink: Milk 2. phone call: years and years ago 3. text message: “oh wtf” 4. song you listened to:  Revin Goff - Harlots 5. time you cried: iunno probably earlier this year 6. dated someone twice: nope 7. kissed someone and regretted it: nop 8. been cheated on: not yet 9. lost someone special: i mean if David Bowie counts, yea 10. been depressed: yeah i get that alot 11. gotten drunk and thrown up: nope LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS: 12-14. Magenta, Green, Purple IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 15. made new friends: yea 16. fallen out of love: nope 17. laughed until you cried: yeah 18. found out someone was talking about you: no why  19. met someone who changed you: not really 20 found out who your friends are: uh no? 21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: no idea so nope GENERAL: 22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: most of them 23. do you have any pets: my dog Daisy and my cat Pico <3 24. do you want to change your name: nah 25. what did you do for your last birthday: fuckall 26. what time did you wake up: like, 3pm? 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: watching Alchestbreach while trying to sleep 28. name something you can’t wait for: Cuphead 29. when was the last time you saw your mom: not long ago 30. what is one thing you wish you could change in your life: i dunno 31. what are you listening to right now:  Lauren Bousfield - Dead Eyes 32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i don’t think so, wtf why should i be concerned? 33. something that is getting on your nerves: Overwatch, i’d attempt to explain but people are just gonna call me a dumb TF2 faggot 34. most visited website: Youtube probably 35-37. lost questions um (????) ok 38. hair colour: Dark brown 39. long or short hair: medium 40. do you have a crush on someone: i have crushes on many people tbh it’s not like i have a chance 41. what do you like about yourself: nothing 42. piercings: I don’t have any if that’s what you’re asking, i’m fine with them though 43. bloodtype: i have no idea 44. nickname: Deano 45. relationship status: single 46. zodiac: Vriska 47. pronous: ... 48. favourite tv show: Rick and Morty 49. tattoos: I got none but i’m cool w them 50. right or left handed: right 51. surgery: uhhh i don’t think i’ve had any?? 52. piercing: wtf 53. sport: not into sport, wow wat a shock 55. vacation: ...uh... i mean i guess i’d wanna go to america tbh 56. pair of trainers: ok wtf is with these, seriously MORE GENERAL 57. eating: yes i like to eat food 58. drinking: yes i like to drink beverages 59. i’m about to: cum 61. waiting for: cum 62. want: people to like my drawings i guess 63. get married: meh, idunno 64. career: got none but i’d like to draw stuff for a living i guess WHICH IS BETTER 65. hugs or kisses: either 66. lips or eyes: either 67. shorter or taller: either 68. older or younger: either 70. nice arms or nice stomach: either 71. sensitive or loud: i mean i hate loudness in general so 72. hook up or relationship: uhhhh idunno, whatever you want? 73. troublemaker or hesitant: i mean hesitant, logically HAVE YOU EVER: 74. kissed a stranger: no 75. drank hard liquor: yep 76. lost glasses/contact lenses: yea  77. turned someone down: idunno 78. sex on the first date: lol no 79. broken someone’s heart: probably 80. had your heart broken: probably 81. been arrested: nope 82. cried when someone died: not really  83. fallen for a friend: nop DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 84. yourself: not at all 85. miracles: where you from? you sexy thing~ no 86. love at first sight: idunno man 87. santa claus: lol wtf no 88. kiss on the first date: i mean, i don’t know shit about relationships so.. idunno?? 89. angels: nope OTHER: 90. current best friend’s name: don’t have “best” friends they’re all equal to me, unless someone new comes along. 91. eye colour: greyish blue, it looks like 92. favourite movie: Scott Pilgrim vs The World

uhh i guess imma tag @eesah @hellraisertrolls @leviaugustthom @slirth if you want to do it, the rest of you feel free to just take it and do it yourself

[lilietsblog]

one punch man 10-12: the aliens

huh its episode 10 already man this anime is so short is it flashback time yet?

hi terrible Godzilla oh yeah its the S class introduction time

gotta love that theres actually competent military in this anime why is it such a rare thing jfc

seriously tho Saitama's superpower is NOT superstrength, that's just now how physics works I think he has sped up perception, and I suspect he had that to a degree even before he started his training, judging from how easily he managed to take on the crab guy, if not all of it but what his strength training gave him (awakened in him?) was basically reality warping no wonder he's bored: he ACTUALLY REALLY doesn't have to put any kind of effort into his punches, as it's not his physical strength that's doing any work there, it's literally reality bending to accomodate him that has got to suck reality warping ennui I love my egg son

I love how all of these monsters demand acknowledgement and don't just try and step on pesky human distractions that ignore them

okay yeah this dude did end up just trying to step on her

man Tornado is freakishly powerful and that's amazing

HI OLD MAN DUDE OMG SAITAMA AND GENOS ARE HERE

Genos oh come on you really should learn some self-defense actually

this sounds like an anime reference I'm not getting

I love that Silverfang at least appreciates Saitama's actual power

and Genos is just inviting Saitama to tag along this is adorable

I love how completely fucking extra all the heroes are and how ridiculous Saitama's low key normalcy looks by contrast

poor Tornado she's amazing but since she's only summoned for appropriate level threats it's not even interesting to be amazing

Watchdog Man is amazing

man you are so dramatic maybe start with explanations jfc there is no logic to this order of operations SAITAMA GOT HIS TEA IT'S FROM STARBUCKS IT'S HILARIOUS awww I love this cute lil bad boy who skipped his lil sis's piano recital )=

madame Shibabawa CHOKED ON A COUGHING PILL

poor Saitama not knowing anything I love how casual he is about asking what he doesn't know I wouldn't have managed >_>

you call it right Child Emperor this is very ridiculous granted the meeting holder dude is probably right but he's being very ineffectual about it

Saitama jfc why

IM REALLY GLAD HE GOT INTERRUPTED

oh yeah this is a completely irrelevant bunch of baddies isnt it

OH YEAH THESE ARE THE ACTUAL BAD GUYS GEE 'IN THE NEXT SIX MONTHS' SURE DID TURN OUT TO BE SOON so yeah thats why the meeting holder dude was right

I love how much attention this anime cares to pay to civilians in trouble

man guys you should have hidden in that rut together instead of getting out

the knight guy is awesome

man thats... not all of city A that was destroyed

ahaha Saitama didn't wait for everyone my socially awkward egg acts on his own out of sync with anything <3 i can relate so much

man my favorite thing about this final fight is that it's going to involve collaboration it's not just 'Saitama saves the day' because he's just one person like with the fish king, Saitama was only able to save anyone because other heroes were there first and here there are multiple battles to be fought these dudes are important too

wow his stump sure isn't bleeding out

hey the swords at least slow the monster down that's not nothing

man this samurai dude is hella cool this entire squad is hella cool footsoldiers are important and I love this anime

I love that the kids are in front here it's a terrible idea and yet in context who's going to say no

jfc King you are way too fast to give up

sorry Genos this is a child

I love the peacemaker dude tho

ahaha Saitama is already inside I love him

oh dude you sure are confident in yourself

SAITAMA IS SPREADING DESTRUCTION a thing he's good at

man this guy's design is SO TOTALLY A REFERENCE

...so the flashback stuff is probably side material that I haven't downloaded isn't it

whatever, I'll just continue the liveblog

man this ending is nice it's just pure aesthetic, and it's such a nice grounding one the Earth that Saitama lives on, which is the same one we all do

hi humanization of the enemy to them, Saitama is the kaiju and yeah he kinda is reality warping powers do that

aww Saitama is not very good at finding vital parts of the ship to destroy eh

Saitama makes for an awesome creepypasta really an unstoppable juggernaut

...I really want OPM to become an endless shounen series it's worth it and it has political setup enough for SO MUCH to happen it features a cast FULL of people very ready for exploration and convoluted plots the first season feels like BARELY A PROLOGUE in what could be the grand scheme of thing

GUYS THE FUCK YOU DOING THERE PLEASE EVACUATE

hi Hammerhead!!! I love you!!! omfg is that your actual first name oooomg

omfg THIS GUY I LOVE YOU TOO I REMEMBER AND LOVE YOU

this show's unwillingness to kill anyone off IS AWESOME

hi Sonic <3 I still love your oni face

I love that the knight guy looks middle aged with wrinkles and all

YOO NICE OJI-SAN

GOOD JOB DISRUPTING COMMUNICATIONS BOI

GO SAITAMA WRECK SHIT

I LOVE THE BAD BOY HERO SO MUCH REALLY I LOVE THIS ENTIRE SQUAD AND THE MUSIC IS EPIC AND THE KNIGHT KEEPS WORRYING I LOVE HIM

sorry coordinator dude that's S class heroes for you

welp bye bye dude that's the batter figuring shit out <3

man poor coordinator dude he's trying his best

I love Saitama and his low key shit I love how the navigator TRIES HIS BEST Saitama is ONE SMART COOKIE oh man this dude can actually look hella intimidating

yeah the downside of telekinesis as a combat power is that you still need to have something to telekinesis unless you can just straight up telekinesis your foes i guess

oh hey gravity manipulation nice

sorry due Saitama's power is basically no sell of any other powers its kinda sad

ahaha hes breaking his own ship now

man this supreme telekinetic power sure isn't used to actual direct combat ....yeah he's ridiculously weak kidna

awww cute lil aliens

awww Child Emperor! <3

ah yes! this is what Tornado is for!

and Mumen Rider on the ground you is good job!!! i love that they give him spotlight so fucking much you have no idea this really is an anime exploring the idea of heroes

AW YIS MY GIRL FUCKING WRECK EM THIS IS EFFICIENT COOPERATION

AND TORNADO TRASH TALKS THEM YOU TELL EM GIRL YOU DESERVE THIS GLOAT

guys with indirect powers wait for guys with direct powers to give them a chance

AW YIS SMALL FRY HEROES COMING TO SEARCH&RESCUE THIS IS HOW IT SHOULD BE

I'm still amazed the Knight is still alive guess his power is some sort of invulnerability/healing

dude if you forget the defense and focus on attack they still outnumber you this would have worked better when you still had many heads

AW YEAH BOSS ENCOUNTER (SUCH A REFERENCE)

SAITAMA LOOKING DANGEROUS AS FUCK GOD JOB YOU IS

Saitama is like a white hole infinite energy he just makes his own

I love how Saitama is still not used to the change of his status from hobbyist to professional it's the small details that make it <3

ahh and this is the kind of fight Saitama wanted isn't it?

haha twenty years yeah strength training had fuckall to do with it Saitama had this potential since babyhood

I LOVE SAITAMA'S COMMON SENSE YOU CAN'T JUST GO AROUND ATTACKING SHIT TO ALLEVIATE BOREDOM HE'S FAMILIAR WITH THIS PROBLEM VERY MUCH

I LOVE THE EGG SHOT JFC <33333333

man Saitama's low key-ness looks really badass here best egg

I love that Saitama's movement isn't even running particularly well, it's just walking really really fast

awww Saitama's come to not expect much by now <3

haha sorry dude you're now match for Tornado's firepower hope she's got some way to watch out for civilians would be invaluable for search&rescue if she were free for it rn

oh hey Drive Knight there sure are lots of knights here huh

oh and it was Metal Knight who destroyed the town huh was he the dude who came in to test his weaponry against the meteor?

yup dude sorry outnumbered

so guys you might want to get the fuck out from under the ship now

I love the badass opening music this is Saitama's true potential too bad the plot isn't about it

lol I love how they both have pretty low expectations for each other

this dude is about to bring down his own ship heh

OMG SAITAMA DIDN'T NO SELL THAT THAT'S PRETTY AMAZING sorry dude Saitama has power beyond his own conception too

yeah you can heal yourself but Saitama wasn't hurt

man his pants are baggy and look hilarious

wow holy fuck and Saitama's method of surviving is ragdoll roll with it as much as possible I do that in the car to avoid motion sickness on bumpy roads

AND YEP HERE IT IS SAITAMA IS ON THE MOON HAHAHAHA HE IS NOT BREATHING AND THERE IS NO SOUND SAITAMA ARE YOU GOING TO PUSH MOON OUT OF ITS ORBIT NOPE JUST DESTROY A CHUNK OF SURFACE

aww hey dude vulnerable after all where Saitama just isn't

sorry Tornado you're awesome but that wasn't you

this dude is strong but he isn't Saitama fast he's not even Sonic fast just very strong

CONSECUTIVE NORMAL PUNCHES NICE NOT ENOUGH STILL SAITAMA MUST BE SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW (and yet vaguely dissatisfied still because something in his brain chemistry still isn't making this as awesome as it should have been)

I love Saitama's creative names Serious Punch

I love that Saitama never taunts, never doesn't talk to his foes he doesn't dehumanize them, ever

well yeah okay that was pretty curb stomp sorry dude but you still entertained Saitama more than anyone else ever managed to

I hope poor little alien crew members survive alright ^^;

aww and the master picks up his knight

TORNADO CAN'T YOU HOLD THE SHIP A LITTLE well whatever

oh hey Amai Mask who the fuck even are you dude what the fuck shut up? I love the bad boy he's saying it like it is dude they literally saved the Earth and everything that wasn't wiped out in a single strike???

Amai is an actual supervillain here isn't he

mm he could be S rank I see

oh hey Metal Knight there sure are a lot of supervillains holed up at the top of the Hero Organization huh well I mean it makes as much sense as anything to recruit anyone sane enough to come in

ALIEN SURVIVORS <3

WHAT THE FUCK AMAI WHY LOCAL LIGHT YAGAMI OR WHAT

awww Genos really has found balance with Saitama

so is Saitama already home or what ah nope there he is <3

Tornado you naive muffin

OMFG SAITAMA IS ABSOLUTELY HELPLESS IN SOCIAL SITUATIONS AND CALLS GENOS IN FOR HELP THEY ARE SUCH GREAT PARTNERS

'history-making events, the top stories for days' yeah i guess in this kind of world there's nothing to do but keep reconstructing and ignore the losses )=

OPTION TO LIVE AT HEADQUARTERS YEAH THAT REALLY NEEDED TO BE A THING ALREADY

anyway I love this anime