bleached clothes

So currently I’ve been working on this vest.
I put glitter and glow in the dark fabric paint on it and am working on placing patches, studs, spikes, and am thinking about making different back patches for it.

I’m slowly working on it and it’s been a fun little project ~

Plus it’s going to say “NERD” on the back, so that way when someone is like, “what a dweeb,” they will know that I am quite aware xD

Kawaii fo lyfe homie.


RukiHime BR/OTP week, day 7: AU + Inktober

Why yes, I might broship them more, but I do like RukiHime as a pairing too. :> So have this little crappy traditional comic in a Victorian AU to celebrate the end of the RH week! I will still be posting some belated entries to it though.


Cult Camp Theory

So, @selfawareshipper and I were rewatching camp camp. We had gotten to Cult Camp, and I remarked that Max had to trust David a hell of a lot in order to walk into the purification sauna of his own accord. He said that it was very out of character for Max to do that, especially when you take into account the previous events of the episode had shown David to be completely oblivious to Daniel’s schemes. Even at the end of the episode, David doesn’t really defeat Daniel (the cultist accidentally drank his own poisoned kool aid, due to his own mistake and nothing David did), and was still oblivious at the end of the episode, where he remarks “Poor guy. Must’ve been some bad fruit punch”. Selfaware was right, this was a very out of character move for Max. 

Which prompted at least half a dozen viewings of Cult amp trying to figure out what was going on. At the end of it all, we could only come up with one plausible solution.

Max didn’t go into the sauna at all.

Hear me out, I promise this makes sense. 

We never actually see Max enter or exit the sauna. We only hear the sauna open and then see this:

Max is about ten feet away from the sauna. That’s a lot of ground to cover in a second, but that could have just been an error. The people working on this show have a lot of ground to cover, it could very well have been a simple mistake in proportions. 

As you can see, Max is now standing in front of the punch bowl. You can see this again here:

Where the top of his head is visible. Max has not moved.

During the number Better Than You, the brainwashed campers join in on the side of Daniel.

Here you see Harrison, Nerris, Erid, Nikki, Dolph, and Space Kid. You see this same group a second later:

Later in the number, David passes behind Neil, Nikki, and Nurf:

and then passes by the table with the punch.

As you can see, in this screenshot he is holding the cup of poison that will be what defeats him in a few seconds. Also notice where he is though. This is where Max was standing at the beginning of the number. He is now nowhere to be seen. He could have moved though, everyone else has.

Here you see Dolph again. This is a few seconds before Daniel realizes his mistake and the number ends. We have seen almost every camper throughout the number except Max and Preston. Doesn’t it seem like Max should’ve been there? It was him being brainwashed that set David on Daniel in the first place, doesn’t it seem like he should be there? He’s the most important camper in the whole show, and David clearly prioritizes him. So why isn’t he there?

Then there’s this:

Look at how disheveled Max is.

His hair is messy, he looks even more tired than usual. He always has begs under his eyes, but if you look closely now they’re doubled.

All the other campers look exhausted, and understandably so, but none of them look as messed up as Max does. 

Taking all of this into account, we came up with the following story:

Max realizes that nothing he can say will convince David that he needs to act. So, he decides to do something and hope for the best. But Max isn’t an idiot, he doesn’t actually chance it. He might not care whether he lives or dies, but dying via poison kool aid concocted by a cultist that looks like David’s evil twin is too far. He quickly bleaches his clothes while David’s distracted (considering how quickly it happened to everyone else’s clothes, it’s clearly possible), Dilates his pupils (some people can do this on command, Max could very well be one of them), and plays the part until David challenges Daniel and the cultist is distracted.

At which point, he runs directly into the woods.

If you want to see it in a Maxpres way, you could even say he took Preston with him, but his appearance later doesn’t really back that up. 

His hair is messed up because he was running through the woods trying to escape, and he looks especially tired because he exerted a lot of energy doing so. He’s extra angry because he went through all that to escape a cultist that ended up fucking himself over, and the only adult in the whole camp still doesn’t realize what had happened even though it’s glaringly obvious.

TL;DR: Max didn’t get brainwashed, he just acted like he did, and he ran into the woods when Daniel was distracted with David.

Steal my wash cycle and detergent? I'll make you fashionable!

When I got my first apartment, I was on the fifth floor in a building with no elevator(s). As you can imagine, doing laundry was a pain (as was most shopping as well). Come time to do laundry, I went down to the basement and loaded up my clothes.

I make my best attempts to practice good etiquette, by not hogging machines. Loaded my clothes and started the cycle and returned upstairs (the machine estimated an hour and a half but depending on what the sensors read, it takes up to 15 minutes longer or shorter), so I came back an hour and 15 minutes later to see my clothes on the floor next to the machine-barely wet-which meant someone knew I just started the load and wanted to do theirs for free. I sprinted back upstairs and grabbed my gallon of bleach and tossed in a half cup into this person’s laundry and changed the cycle to “cotton/sturdy”, which really worked the bleach into her clothes and had to mangle her underwired bras.

I never saw this woman, nor did I know who she was, but I hope she’s enjoying all the bleach spots and messed up bras.

She apparently did not learn her lesson the first time, since another time-later, the same thing happened (I could tell because it was the same clothing as previously). On that particular day I didn’t have any bleach handy, but I had a pair of scissors. Same situation; my clothes were barely wet, so not only was she stealing my wash time, but also my detergent and fabric softener! So I took a few of her shirts and pants and made several snips here and there (okay, I got a little carried away and took an entire sleeve off of one shirt) and set the machine to “cotton/sturdy” yet again. Bitch, have fun looking like Raggedy Ann with bleach spots.

Tl;Dr: some lady in my building stole my washing machine-cycle along with laundry detergent and fabric softener, so I bleached her clothes and snipped snipped some with scissors.

When the businessman shoulder checks me in the airport, I do not apologize.
Instead I write an elegy on the back of a receipt and tuck it in his hand as I pass through the first class cabin.
Like a bee, he will die after stinging me.
I am twenty four and I have never cried.
Once, a boy told me he doesn’t believe in labels so I embroidered the word “chauvinist” on the back of his favorite coat.
A boy said he “liked my hair the other way” so I shaved my head instead of my pussy-
While the boy isn’t calling back, I learn carpentry, build a desk.
Write a book at the desk. 
I taught myself to cum while counting the ceiling tiles.
The boy says he prefers blondes and I steam cleam his clothes with bleach.
The boy says I am not marriage material and I put gravel in his pepper grinder.
The boy says period sex is disgusting and I slaughter a goat in his living room.
The boy doesn’t ask if he can choke me so I pretend to die while he’s doing it.
My mother says this is not the meaning of “unfazed.”
When the boy says I curse too much to be pretty and I tattoo the word “cunt” on my lower lip, my mother calls this “being very phased.”
But leftovers from the other universe are hours and hours of waiting for him to kiss me, and here, they are just hours.
Here, they are a ride bike across Long Island in June.
Here, they are a novel read in one sitting.
Here, they are arguments about god or a full night’s sleep.
Here, I hand a hour to the woman crying outside the bar.
I leave one on my best friend’s front porch,
send my mother two in the mail.
I do not slice his tires.
I do not burn the photos.
I do not write the letter.
I do not beg.
I do not ask for forgiveness.
I do not hold my breath while he finishes.
The man tells me he does not love me and he does not love me.
The man tells me who he is, and I listen.
I have so much beautiful time.
—  Alternate Universe in which I am unfazed by the men who do not love me, Olivia Gatwood, New American Best Friend