#he bapy

[shuojo]

whatever. go my life sized chopper

[derpu-doodles]

skrunkly

[featherlouise]

Yeah, pls don’t.

Also, sketchbook pages are surprisingly springy eh?

[moonamite]

Forgive him, he’s not used to love.

Escargoon whenever someone shows basic kindness towards him:

[luvkirby4ever]

Listen... I know Zim’s non-human lifespan age is probably going to revive a lot of discourse™ in the community at some point but

this is an absolute bapey.  Smol alien child looking for the approval of his two spacedads.  Dib’s angry gremlin classmate that fights him at recess and steals everyone’s Pokemon cards on the playground.  Still needs help getting the straw through his apple juice box.  I am signing the custody papers now.

[shrapnelstars]

Also, I’ve only had Shulk for about an hour, but if anything happens to him I WILL kill everyone in the room and then myself.

[appa-slut]

baby man

[mopwateramune]

Toxic Masculinity.

Dave Strider, the same boy who took care of himself so well even abuse couldn't get to him, the same one who kept up his air of masculinity to one up his bro through hardwired irony, was the boy who allowed himself to let his hair grow.

During the first year, he worked tirelessly to maintain his image, as there was essentially no privacy on the meteor for him to sing instead of rap his shitty raps. Dave would cut his hair every month, he wore his shades to bed, he got up at the slightest movement from the other side of the room, vents banging with an echo of a far away time with blackest of hatred and the putrid scent of flat soda. He would go on about how he was "the man", and he always had the rock.

Of course, as years do, that one passed. Strider soon realised he was safe. And thus, he let go, if slightly. One thing was for sure: he rocked longer hair, especially when he straightened it. Those two things he did for the first two months. Then, he "ironically", as he called it, allowed Rose to paint his nails. He wore it proudly, but with a false mask of a lie, a world of lies he built up to keep himself safe.

In the second year, he finally allowed Kanaya to do some.. touch ups, on him. For the first time ever, he put on make-up, or rather, allowed someone else to put make-up on him. He didn't know or understand how to feel during the process, but he sat through it until the she-blood was done. Terezi even did his hair with hairbands, as he let her, while Vriska sat legs crossed and arms folded across the room, nodding to this moment. He went to the respite block, stood in front of the full length reflection board, and he was. He was. At first, there was shock, given, but then he realised something: he liked this.

To rid of something so ingrained within you it hurt to take it out in just two years is like ripping off a Bandaid stuck onto a scar with super glue. He saw himself, and he knew that the way he was raised, he shouldn't admire himself the way he did. He shouldn't be like this. Karkat then slowly walked into the room, and stood in place, shuffling a bit to stay in place.

"DAVE.. ARE YOU OKAY?" concern alarmingly present. Karkat wasn't being stuck up, or even ironic this time with him. He was.

Dave fell to his knees.

"WOAH, WOAH! ITS OKAY, YOU DONT NEED TO WEAR THIS, YOU CAN TAKE IT OFF!"

Dave bawled for the first time in years. He sobbed and sobbed and let it all out of him, all the fucked up pain he repressed, all the shitty gears in his chest that kept him rolling with a life destined to make him who he had to be for the game. The many years of abuse for something he liked, but knew in Bro's eyes it was a weakness to own unironically. Femininity.

After thirty minutes, he calmed down, while Karkat rubbed circles into Dave's back and hugged his shrunken form curled up into a welcoming lap, a loving chest.

"IT'S OKAY, YOU CAN TAKE ALL OF THAT OFF NOW. YOU DONT LIKE IT, I GET IT! YOU DONT HAVE TO BE-" Dave interrupted him.

"no, no, you dont get it," he sniffed, rubbing his ruined make-up from his snotty nose, "i love this" his normal, subtly whiny tone taking over him. Still on his bullshit, but it keeps him comforted, the air of his normality.

Karkat smiled a little bit, if only for a moment, and let his head fall. Dave picked himself up, and Karkat followed suit. However, something changed within them both. Karkat couldn't take it anymore, and ran to Dave to take his face into his hands. They shared a rough kiss, Vantas careful not to break Strider's gentle human skin with his teeth. And Dave teared up again, smiling, kissing back.

The last year into the journey on the meteor, Dave was slowly getting used to being himself. He was telling the whole truth, and everyone was sure he could do that, and would do that. No more smarmy, sassy remarks, nor quips about how "hot" a woman was, knowing what he was into. He was just happy, and he wasn't allowed to be anything else, unless he needed to heal to become happier. Rose was given the same treatment, and so was Karkat. It was known that Dave needed this the most.

Dave, long hair tucked into a bun atop his head, nails painted, shades alchemised into circles instead of classy aviators, still with the gift of difference John gave him. He wasn't a girl, not a boy, but Dave Strider. And no one was going to change how he loved himself.

He grabbed Karkat's hand and kissed him on the cheek, rubbing fingers with a single thumb. Karkat smiled bigger than ever, loving the moment for what it was. Rose held Kanaya close, arm around her waist. Terezi making faces at Vriska, and Vriska cackling all the same at the facial mockeries. Gamzee was inside of the fridge, zoning out with the tins of sopor he was given to keep his shitty clown powers at bay. And all was. Everyone was.

Toxic masculinity and forced femininity all the same was thrown aside for something bigger, and for the forces ahead the players were prepared with weapons of their own. All it took was three years on a meteor and three years on a ship, one year stuck on planets.

The epic battle to win against the same forces that fucked them all up.