#stabbing that blobfish

[gingerlee-holds]

Pokerants: Gorebyss

im using a random pokemon generator, i think i might stick with that moving forward. i had a little trouble getting to five problems about them but i got there in the end! just had to do a bit of stretching but my physical therapist says thats healthy. anyways uhhhh i love you guys

today is Gorebyss, this fella! #0368

this is what i gleamed from the 'dex:

they live in the southern seas at extreme depths, their body withstands enormous water pressure, and they're unharmed by ordinary attacks due to its body structure

they insert their thin mouth into prey to drain the bodily fluids, they feed on seaweed between rocks, and their body color becomes vivid after feeding

they have a light pink body color, which becomes more vivid in springtime or with rising water temperatures, and in Alola, it's almost blindingly vivid

its leftover prey meat sinks to the seafloor to become food for other pokemon

and now, screaming time

firstly, the Dex states that because its body can resist high water pressure, it can resist a lot of attacks. this is friggin ludicrous, genuinely- deep-sea creatures are not plated in heavy armor, thats not how that works at all!! look at the blobfish!! if you tried to stab that thing, it would die hilariously quickly, especially if above water! deep-sea fish have flexible bodies and soft tissues, which is to say, they gotta be squishy!! the bottom of the deepest trench on earth, the Mariana Trench, has over 1000 bars of pressure, which is like 100 african elephants balancing on your head. the one thing you dont wanna be down in the deepest parts of the ocean is rigid, because you'll get crushed like a soda can - you gotta be squishy, so that when youre crushed by the pressure, you can continue living.

also,,, quick sidenote, why do Gorebyss have seashell bras? look at the picture again, why does the Gorebyss have two seashells on its thorax??? do they have fucking boobies under there?????

secondly, it sucks the body fluids out of its prey like a spider or an insect. a wha? a wha??? it sucks??? this is a good opportunity to tell you about the types of feeding habits fish in the real world can display! 1, there are the surface feeders, which eat food off of the surface of the water - these are the bettas and guppies and such. 2, there's the bottom feeders, which eat leftover debris, like catfish. 3, the herbivorous fish that eat plants (algae aren't plants, they're protists which is the catch-all category for the creatures that are too weird for taxonomists to deal with), these are fish like Crossocheilus oblongus. 4, there's the weirdos who eat algae, like Bristlenose Pleco, aka, those fuckers they keep in the aquariums who suck on the walls lmao. and 5, there are the hunters, like tetras and barbs. "sucking the bodily fluids out" like a goddamn mosquito is not one of those five!!

thirdly, the Gorebyss vividly changes color in warmer water, like one of those hot wheels cars. alright. fish changing color is something that happens in the real world, but its uncommon and usually a result of other factors, not just temperature. for instance, cuttlefish (while not being fish) change color to camouflage into their surroundings using cells called chromatophores. cuttlefish are cephalopods though so a flounder's coloration might be a better example. some fish use bright colors to attract mates, or warn predators away (like lionfish! poison dart frogs also do this, its called aposematic coloration!). a creature becoming brighter in warmer waters is more characteristic of some types of shrimp, but even then its not a vivid change like the pokedex describes

fourthly, the pokedex states in the beginning that the Gorebyss feeds by sucking the body fluids out of prey, (which may be why its name is a combination of 'Gore' and 'Abyss' ooo very dark very edgy) but then later on it states that it uses its long tubular mouth to feed on seaweed between rocks. which is it, pokemon, because those are two very different things! in nature, function always comes before form, which is to say, an animal's natural appearance is only ever because it serves a role. a mouth adapted to sucking bodily fluids (pokemon are cowards and can't say the word 'blood') and a mouth adapted to eating seaweed are very different! for instance, take a look at that picture of the Gorebyss again, look at its mouth, then close your eyes and picture Dory from Finding Nemo. pretty different, right? dory is a pacific blue tang, and blue tangs get most of their food from eating seaweed in coral reefs. those two mouths, Dory and the Gorebyss, couldn't be more dissimilar!

and fifthly, the specific detail that, when the Gorebyss finished slurpin up the juices from their prey, the carcass just falls to the seafloor to be eaten by other pokemon is a bit simplistic, i would have liked to have gotten more specific details on what happens next. yes this is pretty nitpicky but i wanted to get it up to five so leave me alone. once a marine organism dies, the scavengers (we call em detritivores in the business) get to it first: these are crabs, starfish, and the aforementioned bottomfeeders! then, it begins to decompose thanks to algae and bacteria. the food web, especially the ocean floor food web (which is overlooked too much) deserves to be recognized for its vast complexity! tell me about the bottomfeeders goddammit!!!!

[pbjamas]

Jelly blobfish go wiggle wiggle like jelly pudding, nice stab stab owo if u stabby, will blobfish leak icky slime water? dig the knife deeper and it deflates and crumples over 😦

this sounds so violent....

unfortunately, it’s also necessary.

@officially-dumb it’s not just me u have to look out for

[hypocrisyofandrewdobson]

Wait, how is the blobfish one making the artist an asshole? I get the other two but this one confuses me....

If had had to guess, it’s the “heavy overreaction to a minor inconvenience. Yes, the guy asked for her number and was a bit sketchy, but there’s nothing inherently wrong with flirting or asking for a number. Had she immediately said no and he kept being pushy and demanding, sure. But he made the one comment and went on his way. Rude? Sure. Worthy of being stabbed and shanked over? Not so much.

[heckling-hydrena]

if you told me my experience playing goatlings would include mercilessly stabbing blobfish to death with something called a “silver snake sword”, looking for a shiny goat i would not have believed you but here we are

[ggukstummy]

BABABA SPLIT SUNDAYZ MOIST BLOBFISH

HAHAHHHAHAHAHA

On the topic of fish... As an Asian, I eat a lot of "Whole" fishes, you know?? Like there's still the eyes, head, tail, bones body and everything. AND I HATE IT HNGGH. I'm not terrified of it coz I'm really used to eating them, I just really don't like picking the bones because as someone who wears braces, the sharp bones that I didn't remove because I was careless would STAB MY GUM AND STAY STUCK THERE AND IT HURTS.

i love sushi and fillet fish, but if the fish has bones it's actual hell trying to eat it 😭

[swyllh]

[wonwoo] my mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun

title: my mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun [from sonnet 130]

pairing: wonwoo x reader 

word count: 3081

genre: fluff. just. fluff.

"leav me alone," you curse, catching a high-five from vernon. it's a good pun. you've been waiting to use it since thinking it up last sunday night when you were bitching with seungkwan. 

you: 192, wonwoo: 192. boom.

wonwoo rolls his eyes. "one measly poet doesn't diminish the value of page poetry."

you scoff, "yeah it just olib-obil- fucking- oblierated your argument on publishers being gatekeepers of page poetry."

"obliterated," wonwoo corrects scathingly. that despicable raccoon. "at least it's better than not having a gateway at all."

"no, because slam is fundamentally different," you say between gritted teeth. 

wonwoo starts packing his bag. "so it's not poetry, you admit?"

god. you raise your heads to the high heavens, and are met with the questionable, green remnants of that-incident-with-jeonghan-and-seokmin on the ceiling. the clatter of the ceiling fan offers no enlightenment. why do idiots roam freely among us, you ask. brr, brr, cries the fan. 

wonwoo: 193, you: 192.

"no!" you exclaim. 

wonwoo raises an eyebrow, shifting his bag strap on his bony shoulder. one day he'll fall onto his own shoulder and puncture his huge, inflated ego. one day. "no, it's not poetry?"

"i am not conceding," you snap back.

"so there is something to concede." 

wonwoo: 194, you: 192. 

you chase after him angrily. damn long legs. he'd have been executed in some ancient civilisation for being so freakishly tall. freaking slender man. 

"poems weren't written down at first - that's an eurocentric notion that dismisses other groups of people who didn't have written language," you pause to catch for breath. 

as you amble past jeonghan, he reaches out and ruffles your head without so much as a look in your direction; your rowdy garnish arguments are a common occurrence in the east wing now. at precisely 10:14am the sounds of heavy sarcasm and undiluted exasperation ring throughout the hallway like clockwork.

"poetry came from songs, odes," you wave your hand around to gesture other unnamed synonyms. "slam poetry represents a revolution - not just because it introduces newer concerns and techniques of rhyme and rhythm, but because it is a tribute to older times."

wonwoo holds up a hand. you shove it away. "don't interrupt me."

he quirks an eyebrow. you find you have nothing else to add. "okay, interrupt me."

"as poetic as your argument sounds," he says, slowing down as you near the corner before you part, "you do realise that nobody's consciously paying tribute to the ancient origins of poetry and hymns, right?"

you roll your eyes. "even if they don't have the intent, so what?"

"so what, indeed," wonwoo echoes softly. there's got to be menace lurking somewhere in his words. 

you puff your chest out, ready to defend slam poetry's honour to the very last. wonwoo stares at you. and then his watch. and then back at you again. 

"w-what?" you say, not stuttering. "well, if they don't have the intent then doesn't it also show like, a return to some common ground? of humanity or something."

"you mean to say that slam poetry is innate?" wonwoo deadpans. "like how newborn babies come out -"

you roll your eyes. "no! i mean the rhythm. the need to vocalise."

wonwoo crosses his arms. "interruption deduction."

wonwoo: 194, you: 191.

"hey! you interrupted me earlier!" you bite back.

"technically you had nothing left to say." and then, "what about babies born deaf or dumb?"

you hate how slimey his reasoning is. there's got to be some loophole. this guy's got the soul of a lawyer but the major of an english lit. what the heck.

you huff, squaring your shoulders. "that's because you interrupted my train of thought! and about disabled babies -"

"you need to think faster," he says quickly. "what was it about disabled babies?"

... wonwoo: 195, you: 191.

you settle for crossing your arms, leaning against the wall of the intersection. "well, i concede the point about disabled babies, but only because the nuance is controversial and cannot be covered in a fast-paced environment as such."

as you finish your sentence, the bell rings. wonwoo eyes you cautiously. the rush of students stampeding off to their next class breezes past the both of you, cocooning you in a whirl of noises and varying degrees of body odour or thickly-layered deodorant. 

wonwoo leans in, and repeats a set of numbers to you. 

"...380," you echo back. 

he nods, and turns to join the stream of migrating salmon towards their final destination. advanced calculus. what a nerd. you can't believe you actually know someone who takes that willingly in the arts stream.

"...380," you repeat, walking off to your own class.

-

"so you're telling me," kimmy says, placing a hand in front of you. 

"interruption deduction," you blurt out.

kimmy retracts her hand warily like you're a particularly grotesque descendant of some arachnid monstrosity. "you have jargons. ugh."

"kinky," chan says, tapping at his game.

kimmy shoves him out of the seat. chan winces, though his fingers never leave the screen.

"freaking hell, i almost died!"

kimmy snaps her fingers at you again. "you mean to say he gave you his number after that weird mating ritual you guys went through."

you hold up a finger. "first, yes, but only to continue the argument, and secondly, it's not a mating ritual. he's wrong about-"

"but it is weird," kimmy says. "you talk to the guy you claim to hate-"

"-he's misguided and-"

"-you claim to hate," kimmy emphasises, slamming your finger down, "every. single. lit class, and it's not even for class participation."

"that's a good idea," chan says, thumbs pummelling down on his phone. "two birds with one stone."

kimmy grabs your hands, beseeching. "please just use your head and think."

-

you [1902]: http://watchtube/video_knob_poetry_seventeen+right+here_11294

you [1902]: http://watchtube/video_knob_poetry_like+ocean+waves_11653

you [1902]: http://watchtube/video_knob_poetry_twenty+four+seven_12472

you [1902]: http://watchtube/video_knob_poetry_boom+boom_18273

you [1902]: http://watchtube/video_knob_poetry_gibun+gibun+gibun_17349

wonwoo [2024]: jesus christ.

wonwoo [2045]: alright, some of them are good.

you [2046]: see??????

wonwoo [2046]: always exceptions to the rule.

you [2046]: u g h

you [2046]: are you serious 

wonwoo [2047]: i did say some of them were good.

you [2047]:  h a 

wonwoo [2047]: i never said there weren't good ones. 

wonwoo [2047]: i just said that page poetry is generally of higher quality.

you [2048]: by what standards?

wonwoo [2048]: you haven't been able to prove the longevity of any particular slam poem.

wonwoo [2048]: wouldn't you say that's the problem?

wonwoo [2048]: its circulation isn't tied to any specific culture or reinforced thereafter. 

wonwoo [2049]: therefore: oral tradition doesn't apply here.

you [2050]: ..........

you [2050]: why longevity? why does it need to be tied to any culture? why rate slam according to the criteria of page poetry?

wonwoo [2050]: that's because you haven't set a criteria.

wonwoo [2051]: boom.

you [2051]: christ.

you [2051]: brb im going to work on history essay

you [2053]: this is n o t a cowardly retreat!!!!!!!!!!

wonwoo [2053]: you said it

you [2054]: i will be back!!!!!!!!!!

-

when you join her at lunch, kimmy gives you an odd look. you respond by pretending to change tables. she holds you down.

"where's wonwoo?" she says.

you roll your eyes. "join the club."

"no, seriously," she says, angling her head to glance behind you. "where is he?"

"how would i know?" you throw your hands up in the air, narrowly endangering your cutlery. "first vernon, then jeonghan, then professor lee, then this weird guy from whatever abstract math, then-"

kimmy pulls away. "from math?"

you fling your hands out at her, smiling widely at her scrunched up nose. "don't worry. i made sure to sanitise myself after contact."

kimmy groans. "not the point."

"then?" you wag an eyebrow. "you were spooked when he started joining our table."

"yeah," kimmy deadpans, picking up her chopsticks and pointing them at you. a dribble of soy sauce falls from it. "but since then he's been coming over every day without fail to bicker with you and so i got used to it."

you spread your arms out, appreciating the space and the rare stab of freedom and uncontested territory. "and now we are delivered from all our burdens."

kimmy pokes around at her noodles. "so you don't know where he is."

"lady!" you exclaim, jabbing your fork at her fishball. "no! i'm not a wonwoo-detector!"

she pauses, ignoring your heist. "you have his number."

"yeah?" 

kimmy gives you a meaningful look. "are you going to check if he's sick?"

"why?"

you've done it. kimmy's finally reached maximum-incredulity. for a moment you feel the urge to reach over your head to see if you've sprouted extra limbs or a third eye. with the way she's gawking at you, you think you might have regressed into a blobfish.

she presses a hand to her temples. sighs, and then steadies herself. "okay. at the very, very least, aren't you going to make sure he doesn't miss anything in class."

you think about it. "he's got other friends."

kimmy presses her fingers together like a steeple over her nose. BOI. "you are his friend."

"i wouldn't say friend," you say, shuddering at the word, even as you tug your phone out. "it's more, like-?"

you choke out a questionable, questioning sound. kimmy has a glimmer of hope in her eyes before sighing it away again. 

you [1236]: hey you sick?

wonwoo [1236]: yeah, a bit.

"yeah, he's sick," you report.

kimmy chews on her noodles. "tell him about class?"

you [1238]: so for lit today we went through freudian vs feminism, as well as why slam is better than page, and the homework is reading chapters 11-13

wonwoo [1238]: nice try.

you [1239]: you're not that sick then

wonwoo [1239]: i haven't moved an inch since freefalling onto my bed at 7 last night.

you [1240]: müde

wonwoo [1241]: is that german?

you [1241]: pun.

wonwoo [1242]: if you have to explain it it's not that good.

you [1242]: precautionary measures for a foolproof pun.

wonwoo [1243]: hey i'm sick remember

you [1243]: whats new

"it's cute and all," kimmy interrupts, drawing your attention back up to her, "to see you smile like a fool, but we got five more minutes and your food isn't gonna eat itself."

you frown, hard. "not smiling like a fool."

kimmy waves you away. "just eat."

when she rises to put away her tray, you turn back to your phone.

wonwoo [1244]: mean :(

wonwoo [1245]: ?

you [1247]: gtg class 

wonwoo [1247]: oh okay bye

you [1247]: ttyl

wonwoo [1250]: thanks, btw.

you[1251]: np

-

mingyu, from his other class, saddles you with a stack of math notes. holding them in your arms feels like an allergic reaction. you follow his haphazard instructions to get to wonwoo's room.  the security guard doesn't even blink when you walk into the building. so you do. 

the dorms are unexpectedly clean. doors are plain and apparently functional, the hallway is well lit, and noise isn't much of a concern. then again, it is a school day. 

you reach wonwoo's room. knock twice. the door opens to show a young lady with a dark red lip.

"is this wonwoo's room?"

she nods. "yeah, he's sleeping now."

you notice the way she's got on a too-large shirt. wonwoo's worn that in one of your lit classes. you hand her the stack of notes.

"these are from his math class."

she takes them. "ah, thank you! is there anything you want me to tell him when he wakes up?"

"no," you say. 

the door closes on you. you look down and see a pair of black strappy heels next to plain sneakers. 

-

wonwoo [2143]: did you come over?

you [2146]: yeah

wonwoo [2146]: thanks, for the notes.

you [2148]: np 

-

the reality of things don't sink in until you're stuck in a library cubicle, knees barely brushing against wonwoo's (that giant) and huddling over the table to doodle little devils on his side of the paper. you glance up, head almost bumping into wonwoo's, and then zip back down to jot another idea. 

come to college, they said. it would be intellectually stimulating, they said.

you can't believe you're prepping for a presentation by going through all of your arguments for and against slam poetry with him. it's all chan's fault, you think bitterly, watch as he separates argument from argument with careful underlines. suggesting to actually make this class participation.

talk about exploitation. something doesn't sit right with you.

"so when we debate," wonwoo whispers, focused and oblivious. "you'll bring up this point in rebuttal to this. see how that works?"

you hum. "yeah."

"right. then for closing-"

you crash your head into the table with an obnoxiously loud slam. wonwoo flinches in his seat. the librarian narrows her beady eyes on the both of you.

"i think we'll get an a for this," you mutter. 

wonwoo looks at you, caps his pen, and leans back in his seat. 

the debate goes well. everything happens as anticipated. you're able to uphold the integrity of academic investigation. whatever that means. wonwoo doesn't interrupt you. the nuances of your arguments are spared sufficient time before their expiration. 

(he looks bored.)

but that all goes to hell when you realise the class gets to vote. you turn on wonwoo: did you know this?

he averts his eyes. a sure sign of guilt.

something gnaws inside of you, worse than that time when you found kimmy's concoction of green onions, dr pepper and baking soda. it was an infusion alright. but the smell left you retching for days on end. 

the worst thing is, you don't know why you feel this way now.

you don't know who won. everything happened in a blur and now you're stomping out of the hallway, tugging the zip of your bag close. wonwoo catches up. you walk faster.

"well, congrats," he says.

"take your congratulations and shove it up your ass," you bite back.

wonwoo holds his hands up. "what's wrong?"

you swivel to a stop, fixing him with a shrivelling glare. "leave me alone."

wonwoo backs off. you turn the corner and run for class.

-

wonwoo [1225]: hey are you alright? wonwoo [1227]: what's wrong? wonwoo [1232]: is it something i did? wonwoo [1240]: ?? wonwoo [1255]: i'm sorry? - "you look like shit," is the first thing kimmy says to you. "is it wonwoo?"

you stab at her fishball. "no."

she rolls her eyes. "i didn't hear anything when i was walking over from the north wing, so something's up."

"nothing's up."

kimmy shakes her head, placing his chopsticks down. "when you come running to my class crying, i think something's up."

you scowl at her. she winks back. and then rearranges her face to something more sombre. 

"did you guys..." she leans in. "break up?"

you swat at her. "what?"

chan slides into the seat next to her. "i've been summoned by the allusions to love."

kimmy shoves him. "just because you play love live doesn't mean shit."

to you, she says, "look. you have his number-"

"i have your number too."

she pinches your lips together. "shut up. you walk each other to the next class faithfully without fail-"

you swat her hand away. "that's because he's being a prick-"

"you have inside jokes that nobody else gets."

"that's the point of inside jokes."

kimmy squeezes your cheeks together this time. god, those hand grips are working. "when he's gone, people ask you where he is. after that debate, you came to me crying. and the best part is you let him steal your fries."

she releases her hold on you, allowing you the chance to breathe. and then immediately choke.

kimmy, satisfied, returns to eating.

"oh my god," you say, eyes wide. "oh."

"yeah," kimmy echoes, "oh."

the realisation does you no favours. "...he's off-limits. he's got a girlfriend."

chan finally detaches from his game. the whimsical sounds of squeaky little gems fade away as

he lets his character die. "what?"

"there was a girl in his room," you say.

kimmy rounds up on chan. "you never said anything."

"i didn't know!" chan protests, "i thought-"

he falls silent. you stuff your face with fries.

-

the rest of the week is horrible. you can't help but notice how wonwoo pulls out his phone, sighs, and replaces it in his pocket before shooting you looks. it sucks, really, to be so aware and want to not be. 

before you can pack up and leave, though, wonwoo strides over with his freakishly long legs. "saturday night."

you look at the pamphlet he's offering you. slam night. 

"please come," he says, exhaling slowly. "at least - consider it."

he leaves it in your hands, and bolts out of class. 

-

you hate that you're considering it. you hate that you're already here. you hate that you're still hoping. there's no reading between the lines because everything is so blurred and reckless and there is no way out of this. so here you are, sitting at the side, going to this slam because you've gone to all the other slams anyway.

"hey, you're wonwoo's friend," a girl says.

you look up. it's the girl with the red lip. "yeah."

she smiles, sitting down gracefully next to you. "that idiot said he'd be slamming."

maybe you should have gone home. out of all you'd expected from this evening, you didn't think sitting with your crush's girlfriend is one of them.

"maybe he's trying to impress someone," she continues, winking at you. "my brother can be so thick."

before you can ask her what she means, the emcee starts to welcome everyone to the event. you sit patiently, trying not to bounce your knee when the epitome of grace is right beside you.  the first few acts pass by without much enthusiasm. you shuffle in your seat. 

and then wonwoo comes up. there's polite applause as he scans the darkened crowd. he pauses in your direction, and smiles. you turn to his sister(?). she spares you an undecipherable look. 

"hello," he says into the microphone. "i'm wonwoo, and up till recently i was sceptical towards the fine art of slam poetry."

you snort. 

he continues, "but i've been converted, maybe, to see the beauty of paying tribute to the ancient origins of poetry. i'm not a poet, but shakespeare is, and he's pretty ancient as far as i know.

"so here's sonnet 130." 

[hornswogglingpapergirls]

Today is a day when a world leader died from getting stabbed 23 times. I say we learn from the past and stab ANOTHER world leader/Cheeto puff blobfish 23 times. We could go the extra mile and get his Vice President, too.