#[are ya feelin’ it now Mr. Krabs??]

[lakemichigans]

also on the topic of detroit become human..... he fucked that old man

[darkwingsnark]

I know this is the depression talking, but sometimes I legit feel like people don’t care for me outside of the work I do. It might be because I’m stressed out from the fact I’ve been taking so long to work on the next chapter of MIM-- health and been too tired from taking care of kids being the reason. But lately I’ve been trying to talk about the fic with people, share tidbits to try and pump my energy up beyond the physical fatigue, but it feels like I get radio silence. Could be my fault on timing, but it’s been happening for a while now so my anxiety can’t help but go ‘oh, guess I took too long and peeps have moved on’.

Eh, it won’t stop me from working. But let me tell ya, I’m feelin’ it now Mr. Krabs.

[dont-loose-ur-head]

are ya feelin it now mr krabs

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN”

[princessofclowns]

Are ya feelin' it now, Mr. Krabs Pantamimal?

[the-crafty-unicorn]

God you are NOT feelin' it now are ya Mr. Krabs- I mean Crafty?

"I just want to relax. >:("

[somethingg-red]

y'all ever feel like multiple kins at once. no? well here, try mine. [gives you soldier tf2 and alastor hh.] are ya feelin it now mr krabs

[sylvansleuth]

do you feel it??

[faultfindingfirebot]

another kinda OOC question:

DID YOU KNOW THAT HEATWAVE AND STARSCREAM FROM TFP ARE THE SAME VOICE ACTOR?

Do you think the sigma 17 force is in kahoots with the decepticons? is that why griffin rock is never harmed? is that why we have a *flying* autobot? 👀

Yes, Steve Blum is remarkably talented and one of my favorite voice actors.

No, I don’t….

Griffin Rock is never touched because Optimus Prime knows how to keep it secret, keep it safe. (With the obvious exception of Bumblebee…)

Blades flies because Dani is a pilot.

Did you know that Silas from TFP and Mr. Krabs from Sp.ongeBob have the same voice actor?

[pistolslinger]

@appleyed​​

[twitblr]

Are ya feelin' it now Mr Krabs? (OC) (x)

[cherrytrixster]

Me: *is sad* it's fine, it'll pass

Days later

Me: surely soon

Months

Me: Well this is who I am now I guess

[libraford]

This morning I heard my boss complaining that she doesn’t have a life outside of work and that as soon as she gets home she goes to bed, and sometimes not even that. 

And I decided not to tell her that this is the norm for most of us. We work. We come home. We maybe have a couple of hours of daylight before its time to go to bed and even so that’s not always guaranteed. 

Like... I’m sorry that work is hard? 

And I know that she has no control over our workloads or what we’re paid, but... 

... maybe scheduling people seven-day weeks back to back isn’t the most ethical of ideas? 

[bikinibottomtwitter]

Are ya feelin' it now Mr Krabs? (OC)(via)

[ask-fish-boy]

Al! You should boop Matt’s snoot! See if that helps him feel better

Are ya feelin it now Mr Krabs?

@ask-2p-mermatt

[ask-eugene-h-krabs]

What is your views on mermaid man and barnacle boy, Mr. Krabs?

Oi, them blow’ards, eh? Well, strap in, ‘cause that’s a bit o’ a complicated subject fer me.

See, back in th’ 50s er so, Ernie McHale and Tim Parker were just a couple o’ errant humans what done wandered in from up above, an’ thanks ter some cosmic fuckery er somethin’, they ended up wit’ some kind o’ superpowers. Was nice, ‘avin’ th’ two around, helped keep th’ streets clean an’ gave people somethin’ ter believe in, symbols o’ justice er some pie-in-the-sky shite like that. Weren’t harmin’ nobody, plus they were kinda eye candy, so o’ course I took ter em pretty fine.

Then comes th’ 60s, an’ these two meat’eads end up gittin’ themselves a telervision show fer coral’s sake! What a career path, ye might say, from refugees ter crime fighters ter actors! Ye couldn’t say th’ two o’ them weren’t loved nothin’, either, two o’ them ‘ad more screamin’ fans than them four dumb sluts from Liverpool. I remember th’ gals used ter toss them bras up o’er the red carpet line as they passed… ah, bless their ‘earts, was a diff’rent time, nobody understood quite what th’ two o’ them had…

But then comes ‘64, an th’ Gulf o’ Tonkin. Now I don’t mean ter digress too much, but fer ye young folks out there who dinnae know, I gots ter stress: th’ August 4th attacks what got America’s Congress ter sign th’ bill what sent 58,000 GIs ter their deaths an’ killed millions o’ civvies in th’ carnage… it were all a sonar glitch, an’ Lyndon Johnson knew it. I ain’t got a clue what they be teachin’ ya in schools these days, maybe ye all know this by now, but us common folk weren’t clued in at th’ time. Fer all we knew, it were now open war wit’ North Vietnam.

Now, in those days, the Marshall Islands did belong to Uncle Sam, an’ so wit’ Johnson’s resolution, we bottom-feeders down under in Bikini Bottom were part o’ the war, too. Now I could spin ye a tale o’ how I were just a poor feller who got ‘is draft card pulled, an’ got dragged inter a rich man’s war kickin’ an’ screamin’, but I ain’t ‘ere ter bullshit yas. No, I enlisted on me own accord, an’ it were Ernie an’ Tim what convinced me ter do it.

See, though Bikini Bottom weren’t th’ most populous ecosystem, them bastards in th’ beltway figgered they’d git a coupla us gill-breathers ter die in th’ place o’ them red-blooded American boys. So they extended their recruitin’ efforts down inter our briny depths, an’ let any Bottomite jumped up on red-scarin’ rage sign ‘is own death warrant afore jumpin’ em on them steely graveyards.

But thing is, us sea-dwellers cannae give two shits uva sea bear’s tail fin what politics be like on dry land, an’ that made enlistin’ us a moron’s errand. It weren’t goin’ ter be possible ter git more than a handful o’ hormonal sea-hawks ter join their so-called “volunteer navy”, not wit’out some serious properganding. An’ yet, lo an’ behold, down wit’ us salty suckers were a duo o’ humans jus’ like them, feelin’ alienated from their kind an’ itchin’ ter serve their community. It were all one big ado when Ernie an’ Tim, now well-established by them stage names “Mermaid Man” an’ “Barnacle Boy”, announced they’d be leavin’ our lil’ patch o’ Atlantis fer a time ter return ter America as naval cadets. One last season o’ their show were filmed, transparently war properganda if ever there’d been any, an’ then they were off, an’ like th’ school o’ guppies that we were, it became a regular feedin’ frenzy ter follow in their wake trails.

I… don’t want ter get too deep inter what went on in me years o’ service. Sufficer ter say, I came out o’ the fightin’ a changed man, me an’ all me crew were. I don’t look back on th’ time fondly, an’ I don’t make excuses fer what I’d done. When orders ter withdraw came, I’d done enough damage ter meself an’ th’ people o’ that country that I’d’ve been wise ter ‘ave turned me back an’ never look behind, but there’d been one loose end which none o’ us from Bikini Bottom could shake: Ernie an’ Tim, last seen in Saigon, ‘ad never come home.

Disregardin’ orders, me crew an’ I hitched up wit’ some GIs marchin’ inland. I’ll never ferget Saigon, not till me dyin’ day. Fer th’ people trapped inside the city limits, it coulda been th’ end o’ th’ world. It were what little good we could do ter help organize th’ evacuatin’, but all o’ me boys knew our ulterior motives: We ‘ad ter find Mermaid Man an’ Barnacle Boy, they ‘ad ter be alive somewhere.

In those last few days o’ April, durin’ Frequent Wind, it seemed as though all hope were lost. The NVAs ‘ad th’ city surrounded, panic on th’ streets were so bad ye couldn’t pedal a bicycle down th’ block. We’d be ter evacuate on the next helicopter outta th’ city, nothin’ more we could do. Wit’ a ‘eavy ‘eart an’ a ‘eavier conscience, Armor Abs Krabs an’ ‘is crew were ter leave Vietnam fer good.

Then, from o’er th’ raucous yellin’, I ‘eard it. A voice, one which I’d ‘eard night after dreary night on me ship’s projector.  A voice I never thought I’d ‘ear wit’out th’ familiar ‘um o’ film grain.

“Wait!” it cried, “don’t leave! We’re military, just like you!”

It were Ernie, wit’ Tim on ‘is ‘eels.

Th’ look upon th’ once proud Mermaid Man’s face, robbed o’ youth an’ optimism since committin’ it ter film stock, were one o’ abject horror. Barnacle Boy, no more a boy than a shell-shocked man whose soul were thirty years ‘is senior, hustled forward wit’ nae a trace o’ mirth on what ‘ad once been ‘is trademark babyface. Sparin’ not a moment ter greet th’ sea creatures what’d once been their neighbors what’d come all this way ter find em, they clambored inter the helicopter an’ cowered. Tim were near catatonic when we strapped ‘im inter ‘is restraints. Ernie could only rock back an’ force, holding ‘is knees in ‘is arms.

I ne’er knew just ‘ow long th’ two o’ them ‘ad been out there. Officially, there’d been ceasefire from America fer th’ better part o’ two years when Saigon fell. ‘Ad th’ two been separated from their unit an’ left ter wander the jungles all that time? Er ‘ad they’d stayed behind ter fight against th’ orders o’ high command? Though I’d remained a presence in th’ two’s lives fer a time after Vietnam, ‘elpin’ em reacclimate ter civilian life an’ cope wit’ their demons, I never did get straight answers outta them. I learned quickly not ter ask Ernie ‘bout ‘is time on dry land, th’ flashbacks came too fast an’ too cruel fer that man. Tim, I could never bring myself ter ask, not knowin’ what it’d done ter the older man. I’d enjoy not knowin’ what’d wiped th’ smile from th’ Boy Wonder’s face. When each o’ them passed these last few years, me navy buddies an’ I gave em a hero’s goodbye, but ter this day I wonder, I think all o’ us wonder, if they really deserved it.

Anyway, this ol’ man’s let ‘is story git away from ‘im, just look at th’ time. Been ramblin’, I been, an’ I don’t got a clue if I e’er answered yer original question. But then again, I don’t suppose I’d really know meself. It’s like I’d said, it’s a complicated subject, an’ not one I think anyone could say fer sure. All the same, thank ye fer listenin’, an’ I hope ye’ve considered what this ol’ krab ‘as ‘ad ter say.

Now are ye gonna order somethin’, er do I gotta get th’ broom ‘andle again?

[kikidewynter]

"are ya feelin it now, mr krabs?" [yacht explodes]