it's finally over though thank god

i forgot how much i love what remains of the homestuck fandom. like we’ve all read the entirety of this god damn webcomic which could literally be considered a fucking epic
and with something that fucking huge you think we’d forget some plot elements or characters or lose interest. no. we remember all these minuscule facts. all of us. collectively.

there are years upon YEARS of jokes pertaining soley to this one piece of literature and none of it ever gets stale. we have annual dates where the fandom comes out of hibernation to celebrate the anniversaries of important events. john egbert was 13 years old when this all began, and as of today he is able to legally drink* and it blows my mind that we’ve seen this kid grow through his entire teenage years

like, the remaining homestuck fandom thats still around right now are the true fans. the ones who’ve been around since act 1-3 began are the elders of the community have seen the rise and fall of it all, including 2011-2012. they get all the jokes that newer people to the fandom wouldn’t have been there for.

how [s] cascade fucking crashed the entire site of newgrounds, hussie got a really really bad computer virus from downloading a folder of shitty wizard pictures, dave strider’s blogspot, hussie’s formspring, msparp, the first few days of the gigapause, the hell that was 2011-2012 homestuck on youtube (aka karkalicious and those voice overs), the crazy fan theories after every single update, sbahj refrances……, vriska (vriska), caliborn’s shitty anime act and that unskippable casio piano cheering sound effect, TRICKSTER MODE, the fucking shipping possibilities handfed to this fandom thanks to the quadrants oh my god, i could go on for ages

the sheer amount of SHIT this fandom has produced and we all forgot about as endgame finally began to draw near and the temporary 2012 craze lost its hype.

hiveswap is still on the backburner after waiting 4+ years for this game and for some reason we’re all still patiently waiting even though the release date has been postponed indefinitely. we’re on par with the invader zim fandom with how resilient to time we are.

we all hate andrew hussie somewhere deep down in our hearts yet we still beg for more content from that clown, and nobody knows why

anonymous asked:

okay what if for UF!Grillby, their fem!so comes into the bar with a human guy while it's busy (so he can't come over right away since he's serving food/drinks) but he can see they're sitting at a booth and they look very happy together. she's laughing at a story he's telling and he gets so jealous he finally gets so mad and goes over and gets aggressive or something but it turns out the guy is her cousin she was best friends with when she was a little girl GOD GIMME the Grillby's reaction plz <3

UF!Grillby– Jumping to Conclusions.

He can’t stop staring, though his heated glare isn’t that noticeable thanks to the fog of his glasses.  

As soon as you had walked through the door with that human male, smiling so casually and laughing at what was inevitably some stupid joke he must have made, Grillby had felt his flames begin to roil with pricks of jealousy.  Unfortunately, his bar was packed, so he couldn’t waltz over there immediately to size up the possible competition for your affections/introduce himself as your significant other, so he was forced to work while his attention constantly wandered over to you.  The lithe of your laughter caused him to hear an order wrong.  The way you reached out and touched the male’s arm caused him to mix a drink incorrectly–though one sharp glance toward the unfortunate patron was all it took to silence the complaints entirely.  

These mistakes were unprecedented.  Being this distracted was effecting productivity, and that was entirely unacceptable.

You needed to learn this now, and so did the strange male keeping you company.

After setting down a tray with much more force than necessary–enough to cause all the regulars seated at the bar to jerk and shift backward, fearful of the flamesman’s ire, Grillby crossed the floor toward you with quick, confident strides.  Both you and your companion turned toward him before he reached the side of the table, so it was safe to assume that his anger had physically heated his flames.  In fact, most of the patrons were starting to feel that it was a bit stuffy in the bar now.

He stopped right beside you, his gaze shifting between you and the male.  As he sized up the human, he scoffed, though the sound came out as a mere crackle of flame.  You turn that same bright smile you were using on the human toward Grillby, and he bristles with jealousy.  "Grillbz!  Hey!  I was wondering when you were going to have time to come over here,“ you greet, and your companion looks between you and the fire elemental with raised brows.

“Woah, you know the owner?”

“Well, yeah.  Actually, he–”

Grillby cuts you off.  “She’s… mine.” His voice is a low growl buried beneath the loud crack and pop of fire, and the white-hot line that splits his face as he speaks is sharp and jagged.  He rests a fiery hand on your shoulder, staking his claim, and his fingers slide up the side of your neck.  You can feel the heat in his touch, toeing the line between pleasant and uncomfortable.  His flames never burn you, but their temperature does tend to increase depending on emotions.  And right now, he’s both pissed and angry.  “I’m her.. mate.”  

You usually just referred to him as your fireman, which never failed to get a chuckle out of him.  Mate wasn’t a term he tossed around often, and it had you giving him a strange stare.  

Your companion is wearing an expression of both surprise and curiosity.  "Seriously?  This is the monster you’re dating?  That’s pretty cool!“  He turns toward the purple flamesman and extends a hand, gives his name.

Grillby refuses to take the hand, but he does slam a palm down on the table instead, leaning in close toward the male’s face.  “What… are you to her?”  He questions, biting off the words.  The crackling distortion has become louder.

"Uh.. I’m her cousin..?”

Grillby pauses, staring at the male’s confused expression before slowly straightening.  He looks at you, and you can read the question simply from the tilt of his head.  He’s not the most verbal of monsters, after all, so you’ve learned to pick up on his body language.  "He’s family, Grillbz,“ you explain, recognizing his jealousy.  He always has been on the possessive side of things. 

”….“

Instantly, you feel the area around you begin to cool.  Grillby’s fingers curl into the collar of your shirt, and he looks like he wants to say something.. but instead, his silence is only punctuated by a few crackles of flame.  Their purple hue seems brighter now, perhaps a bit lighter around his features, and he suddenly lets his arm drop back to his side.  

He doesn’t say anything more about the subject.  Instead, he murmurs, ”…gotta get back to work…“ and turns on his heel to continue working as if nothing incredibly awkward had just transpired.  

He still double-charges your cousin for his drinks.  

Allison- Not When I’m In Love With Her

Request- An Allison imagine based on the song fool for love by Lord Huron, the guy the song talks about could be Scott or Isaac.

A/N- I’m sorry I’m trash and told you guys the next imagine would be a Stiles one. I’ll get really bad writers block and just hop around from prompt to prompt, so I have like six or seven drafts sitting in my folder.

Allison smiled to herself as her phone chimed with an incoming text, one she knew was from you. You had been studying for final exams with Stiles for the past two hours, but you had just texted her that he left.
Thank god, she had replied. I’m tired for you.
She rolled over to pull her cell off its charger and grinned as she opened up your text. I’m tired for him. I don’t understand how one person can talk so much and just not stop.
She sent you something back saying that at least you could sleep now, but after fifteen minutes, you still hadn’t replied. That definitely wasn’t your style, and even though you had seen her message and started to type back, it seemed you hadn’t gotten around to it.
It wasn’t until about twenty minutes later that she actually began to get worried, and another thirty before a message popped up on her screen. She snatched the phone from the bed and read it, and what she saw caused her to grit her teeth.
Isaac is back.
She raised the  phone to her ear and called you, but when the line stopped ringing, you were silent.
“Y/n?” she asked.
“Sorry,” you said softly. “Just processing.”
“What happened?” she whispered.
“He showed up after Stiles left. I think he was waiting for him to go.”
Allison scoffed. “He probably knew he wouldn’t have let him take one step toward your house.”
“Isaac would have just pushed him out of the way,” you said glumly.
Allison frowned. “But what did he say?”
“That he’s back for good, and that he wants me back too.”
“No,” she snapped vehemently. “No way. Tell me you didn’t let him in.”
“I tried to close the door on him, but I was too slow. He kind of just came inside, and then I screamed for him to get out.”
You remembered how hysterical you sounded, and it might have been embarrassing had Isaac not freaked out so much. He had flinched at the sharpness in your voice, and while you may have been cracking on the inside, you tried to hide it under a scowl.
“Shh,” he had hissed, stepping inside to grab your arm. “Y/n, I’m back now. Everything’s fine.”
His fingers were cold on your skin, and you jerked your arm out of his grasp. “Everything was fine, until about a minute ago. You just fucking left for a year. My best friend almost died, and you left when we all needed you. Do you have any idea what we went through without you? Scott literally died, half of Beacon Hills disappeared-”
“I heard about it,” he had told you, clenching his jaw.
“And you didn’t come back?” you asked, trying to keep your voice low as anger threatened to bubble over.
“I left so I didn’t have to fight for my life anymore. But I missed you-”
“Yeah so you get to be safe, but fuck the rest of us, right?” you had snapped.
Isaac had sighed, and run a hand through his curly hair. His bright eyes were troubled as they met yours, but those baby blues didn’t work on you anymore, and you were pretty sure they never would again.
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t love you-”
“Get out.”
“Y/n-”
“Get out!” you had screamed, shoving him in the shoulder.
Isaac had stumbled out the door, angry and hurt, but you just hadn’t cared. The moment you slammed the door in his face, the gravity of what just happened came crashing down, and you slid onto the floor, texting the one person who never failed to make you feel better.
Allison knew how wrecked you had been when Isaac left. You had seen the life literally draining out of her on that night in Oak Creek, and you were pretty sure watching her slowly recover in that hospital bed had taken a few years off your life.
It wasn’t like you minded being there for her, but your own support had run away and not looked back, and it hadn’t been easy. Even as her wounds healed, Allison was there for you. Part of her burned to hurt Isaac for how much he had hurt you, and as you curled up in that hospital bed with her, crying into the shoulder of her hospital gown, she vowed she would kill him if he ever came back.
She hadn’t thought about doing that in a long time, but what you were telling her had her reconsidering.
“What did he do?” she demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Just tell me what he-”
“Nothing, Allison,” you repeated wearily. “He just walked back into my life like he never even left.”
You sat there in silence for a few seconds, and then you took a deep breath. “You know, out of all the times I wished he would come back, I never thought it would break me all over again.”
“You don’t need him,” Allison swore. “I know how much you loved him. I know how important he was to you, but trust me when I say this, I’ve seen how strong you are without him. Whatever he wants…don’t give in.”
“I won’t.”
Your voice was hoarse from crying, and barely above a whisper. Allison pursed her lips. “I’ll come over if you want. I can bring ice-cream, and we can just talk. It doesn’t even have to be about him.”
“You have a French quiz to make up tomorrow. You should get some rest.”
“Screw the quiz. You’re my best friend, Y/n. If you need me, I’m there.”
“You’re sure?”
Allison sighed. “Sometimes I think you forget how much I love you.”
“No,” you said softly, and Allison could hear the smile in your voice. “I could never forget that.”
She smiled and pushed herself off of her pillows. She was already in a pair of pajama shorts and a comfy t-shirt, but she knew you wouldn’t care. “I’ll be right over.”

Twenty minutes and a quick grocery run later, Allison showed up at your front door with a tub of ice cream and an encouraging smile.
“The cavalry’s here,” she sing-songed, waving the grocery bag in your face.
You met her with a dim frown. “You’re only one person.”
“Yes,” she agreed.“But there’s also…Ben and Jerry.”
She pulled the tub out of the bag and held it out to you, and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“You’re exactly what I needed,” you told her, reaching forward to bury your face in her shoulder.
She smiled and squeezed you tightly, swallowing down the rush of words threatening to spill from her mouth. You may have been her best friend, but there were things she just couldn’t tell you, at least not if she wanted you to stay that way.
“You know I’m always here.”
You nodded and wordlessly headed into the kitchen, hunting for spoons. As soon as you pulled two from a kitchen drawer, you grabbed Allison’s hand and led her up the stairs.
The two of you sank down at the foot of your bed, and you rested your head on her bony shoulder. “I don’t hate him…I wish I could. God, I wish I could.”
“You loved him,” she whispered. “When you love someone, they’re not just in your heart. They’re in your head, and under your skin, and…and everything you are. Without them…you don’t feel whole.”
You blinked and looked up at her. “Was that how it was with Scott?”
Allison swallowed. “No…no, it wasn’t.”
“Wait, then-”
“But you and Isaac,” she interrupted. “I’ve seen it when you looked at him. Right? That’s how you felt?”
“Maybe at first,” you admitted. “But after a few months I…well, there were things I always wondered about…”
“Like, what?” she asked.
You blew air from between your lips. “Well, I…it’s stupid. I don’t really think-”
“Y/n! I’m your best friend,” she cried, spooning ice cream into her mouth. “Tell me.”
“Um, okay,” you told her hesitantly. “I’ve always kind of wondered about…about how I feel about girls.”
Allison’s spoon fell from her hand, and along with it, her jaw. She had always had her suspicions, but she was never sure just how much of that was wishful thinking on her part. Now she finally knew that her instincts (and her hopes) were correct.
“Close your mouth,” you ordered, flushing bright red.
“No, Y/n,” Allison assured you, snatching the spoon from the floor. “It’s totally okay. Trust me, I’m passing no judgments.”
“No judgments?” you questioned, cocking an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Well, maybe I’m a little shocked,” she admitted. “But, honestly, I’m the girl who tried to kill, like, three of our current pack members. I try not to judge people too harshly.”
Your shoulders dropped in relief, and you let your spoon fall back into the ice cream, throwing your arms around her. “God, thank you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, I just didn’t know how.”
“Sometimes it takes something tough like this to be honest.”
You smiled, and placed another spoon of ice cream in your mouth. “It’s not so bad anymore. Not with you here.”
You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, offering her a soft hug and a hopeful smile. You traced your fingers across the arrow pattern of her pajama shorts, sending a warm shiver down her spine.
“Thanks,” she choked. “So, uh, I think I should probably study for that quiz.”
“Oh, right,” you realized, pulling your arm from her shoulders. “How about I quiz you? You have your textbook in your car, right?”
“Yeah. I’ll just go down and grab it.”
“I’ll come with you,” you offered, jumping up from the floor.
“No!” she said quickly, causing you to pause. “I mean, it’s only downstairs. You don’t have to get up.”
“Okay…” you said slowly, eyeing her carefully. “Are you okay?’
“I’m great.” She waved you off with a smile, slipping  out the door and down the steps.
As soon as she was out the front door, she let out the breath that seemed to stick in her lungs. She ran a hand through her messy, dark hair and promised herself that she would never let her emotions gets the better of her again. All it had taken was one little touch, and she was losing her breath like someone had punched her in the chest.
Yes, maybe her love for you was more than friendly. Maybe it was killing her to lie to you, and pretend like you were only the best friend she had ever had. Selfishly, even that wasn’t enough, and as much as she wanted to be honest with you, she wasn’t willing to lose you by telling you the truth.
She was caged between these two options, arguing with herself over whether to stay silent and torture herself, or to risk your rejection and tell you she loved you. For now, she decided, she would have to remain there, but she knew it was only a matter of time before something caved.
She kicked away a stray stick as she walked to her car, unable to stall any longer. After pulling her dusty textbook from the floor, she headed back inside, and fixed a bright smile on her face. Although she was faking it at first, it become real the moment your eyes met hers, and she felt all the stress fade from her body.
“Ready?” she asked you.
You grinned up at her from the foot of your bed. “Oui.”
She rolled her eyes and sat down next to you, shoving the book into your hands. She would have given anything to stay there in that moment with you, but she knew morning would come eventually, and with it, and end to all the lies.

“Please,” Allison heard someone beg as she walked toward your locker. “Just hear me out.”
The voice was irritatingly familiar, and she shoved past the crowd of kids in front of her to get to you. You were standing in front of your locker, rooting around inside it as you tried not to look at Isaac.
He was leaning in close, towering over you, and he kept trying to reach out and put his hand on your arm.
“Stop it,” you muttered, brushing him off.
“Y/n, come on,” he pleaded. “I know you’re pissed. You have a right to be. All I’m asking is for you to hear me out.”
You turned toward him and raised your eyebrows. “Alright, fin-”
He darted forward, cutting you off as he grabbed you by the waist and tugged you against him. His lips were warm, and soft, and everything you remembered. This kiss might have been perfect, and maybe a year ago you had dreamed of it a million times, but somehow, it wasn’t satisfying at all.
You pushed him in the shoulders, shoving him away from you. “Stay away from me.”
“Y/n, stop,” he commanded, snagging you by the wrist.
You cried out in pain at the violent tug, and as you looked up at Isaac, you could see anger and hurt flashing in his eyes. A flicker of fear spread through you, but you only felt it for a moment, because a heart-printed sweater appeared in front of your eyes, blocking Isaac’s leather jacket.
Allison was now standing in front of you, shielding you, and acting as a barrier between you and Isaac. She stood straight with her shoulders back, and firmly placed her hand on his forearm.
“Let her go,” she ordered.
Her voice was tight and calm, but you were her best friend, and you knew she was broiling with barely concealed rage under the surface.
“She’s my girlfriend.”
“She was,” the Hunter corrected. “And it looks like she finally realized what type of person you are. She doesn’t need you anymore.”
Isaac let out a short, bitter laugh. “Right. You know, you must love this, Allison.”
“What?”
“She must have been so upset when I left. She probably cried on your shoulder hundreds of times. I bet you held her, didn’t you? I bet you loved being that close to her.”
“Let go of her, Isaac,” she repeated tightly.
The halls were beginning to clear out now, and when he finally released your wrist, only two or three kids were around. You backed away from him and quickly shut your locker, and Allison quickly looped an arm around your shoulders and headed down the hall.
“What the hell was that about?” you muttered.
“He’s just pissed,” Allison assured you. “Next time he comes near you, I’ll kick his ass.”
Isaac’s scoff echoed down the hall, and you glanced back over your shoulder. He pushed away from the lockers and sauntered toward you, and Allison bristled. “Just stay behind me.”
“Like I’d actually hurt her,” Isaac snorted.
“You already have,” Allison snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Allison, it’s fine,” you promised, reaching out to grab her arm.
“No it isn’t.”
“She’s right,” Isaac said suddenly, his lips curling into a smirk. “It’s not fine. Especially because she’s been lying to you for years.”
“What?”
“Shut up,” Allison spat.
“You started this,” Isaac reminded her. “The only reason she’s being such a bitch is because-”
“She’s my best f-”
“-she’s in love with you!” he finished.
Allison was suddenly frozen in fear. She looked back toward you, and when you saw the terrified look in her eyes, you knew Isaac was telling the truth. But instead of freaking out or running away, Allison simply stalked forward and slammed her fist into his jaw.
He yelped and brought a hand up to his bloody lips, but he didn’t seem phased by her punch. He simply stepped forward and swung at her, causing her to duck.
“Isaac, stop!” you cried, but he wasn’t listening.
Allison whipped a knife out from her boot and swiped at Isaac, and you pressed a hand over your mouth. He snarled as she cut him across the chest, tearing his shirt and causing blood to splash out.
Luckily everyone else in the hall had moved on, but you were still watching at Isaac and Allison tried to tear each other apart. “Stop. Please, stop, both of you!”
Allison paused for a single moment, looking back at you, but as she stopped, Isaac took the opportunity to pick her up and toss her into the wall. She slammed against the concrete, and you screamed.
Isaac glared down at her, breathing heavily as she weakly pushed herself to
her hands and knees.
“Get away from her!”
Isaac blinked as you shoved him from behind and rushed forward, stumbling back in shock.
“Y/n-”
“No,” you snarled, whirling back toward him. “Don’t ever touch her again, and don’t touch me either. Don’t even come near me.”
That was all you left him with, and as you rushed to Allison’s side, he stormed off and turned down another hall.
“Allison,” you breathed, kneeling on the ground next to her.
She didn’t look up at you, and willed herself not to cry. Her hair fell into her eyes, sticky with the blood dripping from her forehead, and shame was all she could feel. She wished you would just walk away and leave her there, but you simply reached out and placed your fingers under her chin.
Her brown eyes watered as you turned your face toward her, brushing her stained hair from her cheeks. “Allison.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered miserably. “Just…just go, please.”
“No,” you told her firmly. “There is no way I’m leaving my best friend. Especially not when I’m in love with her.”
Allison stared up at you, her eyes glistening. “Do you mean that?”
You nodded. “The other night, when we were talking about how I felt about girls…I was actually talking about you.”
Allison sat up, and although she was dizzy, she reached out to pull you into her. She had spent so long sitting on the sidelines, watching you with Isaac and thinking you would be so much better with her. Now she didn’t have to wonder, because as she placed her lips on yours, she just knew.
You wrapped your arms around her and pulled her closer, and decided that having Allison in your arms just felt right. Out of everything you had shared together; sleepovers, secrets, and tears, this was by far your favorite.
She was warm, and familiar, and she was still your best friend, just with a few more added benefits. And that was something the both of you could live with.

anonymous asked:

OHMYFUCKINGGOD. I FINALLY GOT AROUND TO READING RAIN AND ITS SO FUCKING GOOD??? I WAS LITERALLY IN TEARS BEFORE I FINISHED THE FIRST GOD DAMN CHAPTER HOLY SHIT.

homg really??? ahfkjdskf I’M SORRY FOR MAKING U CRY OK?? i’m just. okay. i’m glad you liked it. i’m still shooketh that people get emotional over it like. yeah. thank you though.

They Call it Alien Hand Syndrome

It all started during my junior year of college. I am a party animal, or used to be. I never missed a party and you could count on me being at the bar until closing time. This all changed when I became sick with meningitis. The doctor said I probably got it while playing beer pong or kissing someone. I will never know how I got it, but I do know that my life will never be the same again. The doctors and my parents tell me that I should grateful that I am alive. I know they are right, but my life has become a living hell. I feel like my sanity is slowly slipping away.

I missed most of spring semester of my junior year while in the hospital and spent the following summer recovering at home with my parents. I begged my parents to let me go back to school in the fall. I could still graduate on time with my friends due to a bunch of AP courses from high school. They eventually agreed so long as I promised to take it easy and tone down the partying. To make them happy I did not move back into the fraternity house and got a single apartment for myself.

I quickly returned to my hard partying ways. I could not drink as much I used to but I still knew how to have a good time. By the third week back at school, however, I began to notice that my left hand seemed to shake ever so slightly whenever I moved it. Other times I would be holding something, let’s say a beer, and my grip would inexplicably loosen. I dropped a few full drinks during those first few weeks. I chalked it up to muscle weakness from being bedridden for so long. The trembling in my hand continued to increase over the next few weeks but the weakness in my hand disappeared. I felt like my old self again. This was my last year of college and I was having a blast. I partied twice as hard to make up for lost time.

Everything changed one Monday morning when I woke up with a terrible hangover. I stumbled through my morning routine knowing that I was late for class. As I stepped out the door I noticed that my left hand still held onto the bar of soap. My hand refused to release its vice like grip so I resorted to soaking it in hot water. I slipped the bar out and my hand relaxed immediately. My feelings of unease quickly turned to anxiety when I noticed that my senior seminar had begun a half hour ago. I raced out the door in a hangover induced stupor and did not think about the morning’s odd events until the next week.

The rest of the school week passed uneventfully. I focused on my schoolwork and played video games with my fraternity brothers. The coming weekend was going to be epic. My fraternity had been planning an incredible party since the previous school year. We had a large field rented, dozens of kegs on order and fully expected at least half of our small university to attend. The party started around noon on Saturday and would last until we finished all of the kegs. The first few hours were great, but then something happened that would begin my descent into hell.

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