#what the fuck chai

[fvckthesyst3m]

I don’t care anymore to fight people. You comment hateful stuff? Block. You disregard those who were murdered and taken hostage? Block. You call me a Stupid Zionist? Block.

I am not here to fight people. I am here to spread awareness and information that I am passionate about.

Funny how some people can spread hate and it’s accepted, whilst others must just take it. If the roles were reversed though it would definitely not be the same. The society we live in is F*cked.

[pettytiredandjewish]

So uh… to the “pro-Palestine” crowd

- harassing random jews on the streets (and online) isn’t going to help Palestinians

- swarming and blockading college campus buildings (and hospitals) and chanting genocidal slogans at jews isn’t going to help Palestinians

- defacing synagogues and jewish owned stores isn’t going to help Palestinians

- displaying antisemitic signs and waving nazi flags isn’t going to help Palestinians

- chanting for intifada isn’t going to help Palestinians (Hamas would love that though)

- spreading Hamas propaganda isn’t going to help Palestinians

This doesn’t help Palestinians- but it sure does help Hamas who’s goal is to wipe out Israel and all jews. Also Hamas could care less for Palestinians- why do you think they are being used as human shields???

Doing all of these things makes you antisemitic (some of y’all were probably already antisemitic, and is using the I/P conflict to go fully unmasked). You doing this is causing harm to so many people. And to be honest- doing this shit shows that you actually don’t care for Palestine. In fact you are using this conflict to go fully unmask and be raging antisemitic little asshats.

Instead of doing something that could help those who are affected by this war, you are harassing jews, defacing synagogues, and calling for intifadas. Why is that? (I know the answer- but humor me). Why is this acceptable? How does harassing and harming jews help Palestine? And how does supporting Hamas (a terrorist organization) help Palestine?

Also I may get hate for this but I don’t care: anti Zionism is antisemitism. The term anti Zionist was created during the soviet era by one of the soviet leaders. The Soviet Union hated jews and wanted to stamp them all out. One of the ways that they “succeeded” was “persuading” jews that their culture and religion was dirty. That they- the jews should be ashamed of their “Jewishness”. And that was how anti Zionism came to be.

I said what I said. If you don’t like it then maybe you have some thinking to do.

Also as another fucking reminder:

Stop fucking spreading vile antisemitic shit (and stop harassing Israel citizens) !!! This includes:

- blood libels

- organs harvesting

- holocaust denial

- “hitler was right”

- “gas the jews”

- lizard people

- “jews are rats”

- “jews are rich”

- “jews control the media”

- “jews are landlords”

- the majority of conspiracy theories

- Zionist occupied government

- Zionism is racism

- stop fucking reading protocols of the elders of Zion

- “from the river to the sea…” is a genocidal chant.

- stop calling Israel a “terrorist” state and stop saying that all Israelis are terrorist (people are not their fucking government)

(Just to list a few)

I said what I said and if you don’t like it- the doors over there.

Am yisrael chai! ✡️

[queenwille]

them: yOU SHOULD BE ASHAME-

us:

[sadisthetic]

FATAL ERROR//. abort operation.

[chaisshitposts]

AaaaaAJAJADHDJSKK

I enter the void finally after two years😭🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺.

I can't tell you how happy I am. I just wrote 6 void affirmations like I enter void instantly, i always wake up in the void and so on then name the note as as I am a void master and I just did psych k using gamma waves for two times a day for 10 mins affirming I am a void master. I promised myself I will not waver this time and I just robotic affirm when I get time. While sleeping I recorded it in my voice and used it.

So on fourth day I finally woke up in the void which is today. I can't tell you how happy I am 😭😭😭.

I manifested-

Dream body

All my old grades to A+

Dream skin like literally flawless and beautiful

Dream house

The job which I want from a long time.

Healthy and happy family

And much more.

I freaking love you chai😘😘😘😘😘😘😘

Thank you.. Now gotta delete tumblr and gonna enjoy my lyf. 😭😭😭😭😭

words cannot describe the amount of joy I feel after reading this, I cannot even say anything that would even make sense.

bye anon, thank you for not givin' up on yourself and I hope you have the most amazing time living in creative mode.

[thisgingerhasnosoul]

Every time I try to claw back some sense of normalcy, I see another casually (or sometimes explicitly) antisemitic gesture from a random goy who knows fuck-all about anything.

It’s just really hard to find any sense of safety or normalcy knowing that “Jews are oppressors and deserve to die” is a mainstream opinion again.

[vani-ash]

Saw this on tt and wanted to share it Via TikTok

[felinecryptid]

A Local Delicacy

or the fic where hobie stares at pav and misses all the vital information

(please pay attention to the tags ✨✨ no cw's for this one)

"Wha's this thing called again?" Hobie frowned at the small, inflated crisp looking thing.

'It's called a Pani Puri, stop being so difficult," Pav reached up to hit him on the head, failing not so miserably. Hobie wanted to laugh at his disgruntled face. It had been a hot minute since they had hung out. Plus, Miles could probably use a break after the entire 'destabilising the multiverse' debacle. Pav had immediately dragged them to a nearby stall stacked to the top of the colourful umbrella with these Pani Puris, while blabbering non stop about foot traffic.

Hobie supposed some things transcend universes. Like crowds. Stray animals in narrow alleyways. Rude people. Rude cops. His crush on Pav. Capitalism. You get it. Hobie was broken out of his thoughts by the stall keeper handing him a tiny leaf cup. It was 5 centimetres at most.

"What are these for?" Gwen asked.

Pav smiled. Hobie's heart skipped a beat. "For eating. You'll see." He answered cryptically.

"Thoda time lagega beta, abhi kate pyaaz khatam hogaye," The stall keeper started chopping onions at the speed of light, his knife clacking against the ratty wooden board.

"Koi nahi kaka, aap aaram se karo," Pav bounced on the balls of his feet, replying to whatever the stall keeper said, in his sweet voice. Hobie loved when Pav spoke Hindi, there was something so flowy about it.

"What did he say?" Miles asked. Hobie was curious too. He only caught the heavily accented 'time'.

"He said it's gonna take a few mins, he just ran out of onions."

"That cutting board does not look hygienic," Gwen said, as Pav manoeuvered everyone to stand in a loose circle around the vendor.

"Arey bahut saaf hai beta! Very hygienic!" The stall keeper nodded at her, now chopping coriander. Gwen went red. Miles burst out laughing.

Pav looked embarrassed as well, and Hobie wanted to just. Hold him. He'd settle for standing close to him as he tried to sputter out something.

"Bura mat manna kaka, aapko pata hai yeh videshi log kaise hote hain." Pav scratched his neck, flashing a winning smile at the vendor and Hobie felt something stab in his heart.

"Chalega chalega, badi hi gori dikh rahi hai, pata chal gaya yahan se nahi hai." The stall keeper said while arranging the dishes around. "Uske liye kam tikha dun?"

"Gwen, do you like spicy food? Miles?" Pav asked.

"Nope." said Gwen as Miles nodded.

"What about you, Hobie?" Pav turned to him, his deep brown eyes glinting something pretty in the late afternoon light.

"Sure, why no'." Hobie shrugged, a grin inexplicably tugging at his lips. Pav turned back to the man, saying stuff in lilting tones Hobie didn't understand.

The stall keeper nodded, and cracked open one of the crisps, scooping peas and potatoes inside it and adding the green liquid and onions inside it. He swiftly placed it in Hobie's cup.

"Tha's it?" Hobie was unimpressed. This little thing?

"No, bro, you gotta eat it to get more. Put it in your mouth all at once. Don't nibble at it, or it'll get soggy and get all over your clothes." Pav said, entirely shoving his own Pani Puri into his mouth like a visual example of what to do. Hobie looked at the Pani Puri in his cup for half a second more before deciding to fuck it and copied Pav, mouth closing over the stuffed crisp.

Flavours exploded on his tongue. The sweet tanginess, the crunchy onions and the spicy peas; it was nothing Hobie had expected it to taste like and nothing like anything he had eaten in his life. He chewed, feeling the bits of the crisp puri poking all around his mouth, but that was the experience. It felt otherworldly yet somehow fulfilling. Hobie automatically extended his hand for another one.

Gwen got hers, stuffing it in her mouth, with no small amount of trepidation visible on her face. It was valid, considering she started coughing the moment she chewed it, going 'hoff, hoff, hoff!' which Hobie took to mean 'hot, hot, hot!'.

"Goddamnit Gwen, how are you gonna eat dinner with us?" Miles said easily eating the puri without breaking a sweat, his Puerto Rican taste buds used to the level of spice.

Gwen glared at him, face red and sweat dripping. "Can't you cook unspicy food for me?"

"Mami will never let you in again if you eat like a white person,"

"I am white."

"Yeah, and?"

"Hooo- kaay! Calm down children! Gwen, we can go get a kulfi for you later. Miles, stop antagonising Gwen," Pav made a 'chop' gesture at them, shaking his head frantically.

The vendor had plopped another one in his cup and was holding another one in his hand waiting for them to finish bickering. Hobie ate it, only a few drops of the green liquid spilling on his fingers. And the next one as well. And the next one. This street vendor was so fast, the fuck? With only Pav and him at the stall, because Miles was busy with Gwen, the vendor seemed to make three for each one Hobie ate. Pav didn't look bothered at all, scarfing down every one as it came.

"'oly shit, Pavi, ask 'im to slow down, 'M strugglin' 'ere, mate," Hobie managed to speak in between the positive barrage of puris.

"No way, it's part of the vibe, dude, keep up," Pav was way more graceful, easily talking between the Puris, time seeming to favour him and him only.

"Seriously?" Hobie muttered on the tailend of a particularly large Pani Puri. Pav grinned again, his right canine getting caught on his own lip. Hobie was well aware that he had a staring problem, and if he didn't get himself together, Pav will be too.

"Okay, okay," Sometimes Pav looked at Hobie in a way that had him swearing his feelings were requited, and this was one of those looks that made Hobie wonder how he's still standing up straight and not a puddle on the floor like he felt on the inside. "Kaka, thoda ahistha dena, Hobie bhi yahan naya hai."

"Theek, theek, beta," The vendor laughed. "Apke aashiq ko impress toh karna padega."

Pavi choked on his Pani Puri. Hobie turned to him concerned, as he said something in 3 octaves higher than his normal voice.

"Kaka- aashiq nahi hai woh- hum bas dost hain," Pav said, wiping tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

"Meri beti bhi apne bf ko dost bolti hai. Woh dono bhi ek dusre ko aise hi dekhten hain. Usko lagta hai mujhe nahi pata lekin ham bhi toh aapke umar ke the," The vendor winked, and Hobie was sure this conversation was not about anything he could imagine. Why on earth would this random man be winking at Pav? "Aur hum yeh bajrang dal jaise vishwas nahi rakhte, pyaar toh pyaar hota hai na?"

"Ji kaka." Hobie could see Pav's blush that seemed to radiate because why else Hobie would feel flustered too? "Ahem," Pav looked at his wrist like he was looking at the time, except he did not have a wrist watch on. "Kaka abhi hame jana padega- chemistry coaching hai- kitna hua?"

"Itni jaldi? Theek hai, sukhi puri lelo," He said, handing over two flatter crisps. Without the liquid. Hobie felt it was easier to fit this in his mouth after all the other Pani Puris. "Sath rupay hue,"

"Kya kaka, angrez dekhte bhau badha dete ho? Main akele khata toh chalis ka hota," Pav said, his voice taking a complaining tone and Hobie was surprised to find him even more endearing.

"Beta, jab aap dhanda karoge tab samajh mein ayega, abhi apko coaching nahi jana?"

"Han, kaka, din dahade loot lo," Pav said, and Hobie got a sense of defeat from his slouch, as he forked over what Hobie assumed was the price of the Pani Puris. "Let's go, before uncle embarrasses me in front of someone."

"You paid money to your uncle?" Hobie thought it'd be easier to get around in Earth-50101 as time went on, but here he was, getting more questions and no answers as he hung around.

"He's not actually my uncle, I'm calling him that out of respect. It's a cultural thing, don't worry about it," Pav answered, grabbing Hobie's hand as he wove between the forming crowd. Hobie sighed, letting Pav drag him around, his hand warm in Pav's soft palms.

___

i have nothing to say.

translation (not literal translation bc then id have to explain a shit-ton of grammar, slang and indian pop culture to yall):

Thoda time lagega beta, abhi kate pyaaz khatam hogaye - it's gonna take some time, [I] just ran out of the chopped onions

Koi nahi kaka, aap aaram se karo - no problem uncle, take your time

Arey bahut saaf hai beta! - oh its very clean, kid

Bura mat manna kaka, aapko pata hai yeh videshi log kaise hote hain. - please don't be offended uncle, you know how foreigners can be like.

Chalega chalega, badi hi gori dikh rahi hai, pata chal gaya yahan se nahi hai. - It's okay, she looks very light skinned, [I] assumed she wasn't from around here.

Uske liye kam tikha dun? - should [I] make it less spicy for her?

Kaka, thoda ahistha dena, Hobie bhi yahan naya hai. - Uncle, please slow down [the pace], Hobie is new to this too.

Theek, theek, beta - Alright, kid

Apke aashiq ko impress toh karna padega. - [I know] you have to impress your boyfriend.

Kaka- aashiq nahi hai woh- hum bas dost hain, - Uncle- he's not [my] boyfriend- we're just friends,

Meri beti bhi apne bf ko dost bolti hai. Woh dono bhi ek dusre ko aise hi dekhten hain. Usko lagta hai mujhe nahi pata lekin ham bhi toh aapke umar ke the. - My daughter also claims her boyfriend is just a friend. They look at each other the same [way you do]. She thinks I don't know [about them], but we [adults] used to be your age.

Aur hum yeh Bajrang Dal jaise vishwas nahi rakhte, pyaar toh pyaar hota hai na? - I don't believe stuff like Bajrang Dal. Love is love, isn't it?

Ji kaka. - Yes, uncle. (in this case)

Kaka abhi hame jana padega- chemistry coaching hai- kitna hua? - Uncle, we need to go- It's time for my chemistry tutorial classes- how much [were the Pani Puris]?

Itni jaldi? Theek hai, sukhi puri lelo, - So fast? Okay here's your [aftersnack snack (that's that least complicated way to explain what a sukhi puri is)]

Sath rupay hue, - it's 60 rupees.

Kya kaka, angrez dekhte bhau badha dete ho? Main akele khata toh chalis ka hota - C'mon, uncle, y'all see a foreigner and increase the price? If I was here alone, this would have cost 40 rupees.

Beta, jab aap dhanda karoge tab samajh mein ayega, abhi apko coaching nahi jana? - Kid, when you grow up and have a job, you'll understand, now, don't you have classes to attend?

Han, kaka, din dahade loot lo - yeah, okay, why don't you just rob me,

Some context (you dont need to read this)

kulfi is an ice cream equivalent, usually flavoured with almonds, pistachios and saffron

beta literally means 'son' but its used to refer to any kid who's very young relative to the speaker's age; and also for jokes b/w buddies but that's a different thing

kaka literally means 'father's younger brother ie uncle', but can used to referred to any man who isnt related to you and is about the age of the speaker's parents; there are also other terms depending on by who and how you were introduced to the person

Bajrang Dal - an anti-societal group against religious and sexual minorities(as defined in the indian constitution, do not come at me with politics). Famous in pop culture for being vehemently against valentine's days and premarital eye contact (you think im joking)

The Chemistry Coaching thing is a big deal. Kids have great pride about which institute they go to. The institutes teach accelerated courses for specific competitive examinations, usually in an unethical way. It's considered kinda shameful if you don't go to one. (very dystopian, ik)

[figofswords]

wow I didn’t think reblogging that tea post and then seeing people’s tags would deal me such strong psychic damage. come over I can fix you I can find a tea you will like. “I don’t like tea” how can you say that as a blanket statement when there are so many vastly different kinds of tea. head in hands

[cree-n-jewish-thoughts]

I am so angry with leftists.

The punch nazi post reminded me of how badly things have been forgotten.

I grew up going fishing with an SS soldier as a child. He would take us to the beach and sit and drink. When he got drunk he would start to angrily mutter in German. He knew I was a Jew. But his grandkids liked me. I went fishing with this man until I was like 8-10 where I dropped a fish, he was very drunk at this point and he yelled you stupid kike you're good for nothing" then continued to rant in german as elder two of his grandchildren told me it was just an accident. I didn't know what "kike" meant. I always thought I heard it wrong. But after that fishing trip I never saw him again. I did not find out he was a SS soldier until after he died. I didn't know "kike" was a slur for Jews until highschool...

If you think the Jews deserve it, does a young child deserve to be yelled at and called slurs?

The leftists would have never actually punched a nazi anyways, lets be real, they act real tough behind a keyboard but probably couldn't throw a punch let alone handle a good right hook.

They keep saying "my rights! My rights!" While they support a terrorist government that gives its citizens no rights, no freedoms.

I saw a comment "if they didn't have to deal with a war they would be protesting"

. . .

False, they cannot protest, they cannot go against the government.

Queer people for Palestine is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. All the openly gay Palestinians either live in Israel or are dead.

One college is mad the campus is using drones for facial recognition to find the people responsible for over 60k in damage to the school and property. They are just mad that they are going to get caught and be known now. Pathetic.

I hate this country.

"we remain unbiased" bullscat! You give in to any demands on the pro Palestine/ terrorists yet ignore the fear in the Jewish community, and the community itself.

The local university agreed to some very uncomfortable things...

How is government being pressured by TEENAGERS

oy... Smh...

[pettytiredandjewish]

Y’all I just noticed something- ever since I turned off anonymous asks, due to me getting harassed constantly by antisemitic asshats and pro-Palestine people/anti-zionists (because I’m a cold hearted bitch/moron/monster for caring for Israeli citizens who are also victims of the war/ caring for the return of the hostages/ calling out antisemitism/etc…) I haven’t gotten any more hateful or harassing asks… I wonder why??? Could it be that some of them are….cowards and likes to hide? I guess we’ll never know….(jk I already know the answer-i just wanted to add a dramatic flair to it lol)

Also do y’all (I’m talking to the pro Palestine and anti Zionist crowd) even care that Hamas is still holding over a hundred hostages??? And that Hamas are treating the hostages like they’re in some sick torture game??? It seems like whenever someone talks about the hostages/any news about them/testimonies from those who were returned/etc… y’all go bat shit crazy. Hell there’s this video going around where this group of people (pro Palestine/anti Zionist) were defacing a mural that says ‘free the hostages’ and ‘fuck Hamas’ (or something similar to it) because it somehow insulted them???

And stop denying that 10/7 happened. It’s not a fucking conspiracy theory! It was a messed up/horrible terrorist attack and a pogrom- a pogrom that Hamas has promised will happen again! To those who are still denying it/claiming that IDF did it/ or thinks that this attack was necessary- y’all are just fucking unbelievable and messed up…

At this point I’m convinced that y’all hate jews in general and that you are using the i/p war as an excuse to be hateful antisemitic little fuckers. I said what I said.

Am yisrael chai! ✡️

[hiemaldesirae]

picked up this book called 'murder your employee: the mcmasters guide to homicide vol 1' from my local bookstore and . Hmmm. am i hearing murder academy radiostatic au... (<- delusional)

quick rundown of the books setting (time period vaguely 1950s, before 1962 at the latest) is that there's this murder academy (i say that but its closer to a uni than a boarding school which is typically what i think of when i read academy) open to applicants of all ages to train their students to murder. the admissions fee is an extremely high price, but regular people can enter in via sponsorships (like scholarships, sort of, but its more like a specific rich person sponsoring the candidate). the students don't operate on a regular year by year schedule because 1) no one knows where the school is and thus cannot always tell even what season it is much less the month 2) students are informed of their graduation basically the day of, when the faculty decides theyre ready to leave and complete their thesis project (AKA the murder). anyway its a very fun book and so of course i had to be insane about its premise

For what it was worth, Alastor hadn't meant at all to end up studying at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners.

Which, in fairness, was just a fancier way of saying that he hadn't meant to get caught.

It had been a situation entirely out of his control. For whatever reason, that night, the swamp had been especially difficult to navigate- even alone, much less with a bloodied and battered body slung over his shoulder, he's quite certain it would have been a struggle to work his way around the place. And while that had never been a problem the few dozen or so times he'd made the trek before (granted, they were without the actual body in his hands, but it didn't make much of a difference when he'd been carrying heavy sacks of sand to offset the weight), there was an unfortunate caveat in his plan.

He hadn't banked on being seen and followed by a truly infuriating pair of 'detectives' (though surely whatever idea they'd held of a detective was truly and fully siphoned from one of those insipid moving pictures his dear Mimzy was ever so obsessed with), and he hadn't expected to be offered a spot as a student at this... interesting facility.

The smiley man sitting in front of him nods emphatically as Alastor finishes his little cajoling speech. The nametag on his black and red suitjacket reads Dean Morningstar, and a half-poured cup of brandy sits on the side of his table. Alastor eyes the alcohol with interest, if only because looking anywhere else in the room might make him lose composure and attack the bothersome man sitting across from him.

"So, then... Mr. Hartfelt, is it true that your next target was to be your father?"

Alastor narrows his eyes at the dean. The room's atmosphere seems to drop as he holds his gaze, both of them wearing smiles that convey vastly different emotions. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

Of course, such a lousy comeback isn't tantamount to a proper argument (unless you're the type who enjoys messing with people, which Alastor is in all moments except this one) and the dean smiles when he realizes Alastor's slip up.

"See, you have an extremely generous patron backing you on your goal... not only to take down your father, who, by the way, seems to owe you quite a lot, considering your less than stellar upbringing and childhood, so good luck with that one, but also in relation to the other bodies that have been found half-submerged in the swamp." The little devil smiles merrily. "Sorry about that one, by the way. But we had to be sure you were a good candidate for our very highly revered course list. I mean... your sponsor is paying a lot of money to see you succeed, so... we had to be pretty thorough. Again, sorry, but it's just standard protocol."

Alastor clenches his jaw, feeling his eye twitch. He'd more or less tuned out whatever else Dean Morningstar had said after he admitted to resurfacing the already weeks old bodies in the swamp- Alastor's very first targets- as a means of... assessing him, apparently. "So you're the reason the bodies have started turning up in the bayou...?"

"Not entirely," Dean Morningstar shrugs, providing no further context. "In any case, this is sort-of a caught with pants down situation, I think. You don't have many options, Mr. Hartfelt. Either you stay as a student, or we let the truth out- and let your mother know first, before getting rid of you."

He grins sunnily at Alastor. "What will it be, young man?"

So, that was that.

Following that conversation (blackmailing session) Alastor finds himself being the unwitting recipient of a campus guide by the dean himself, who, despite his short stature and seemingly accomodating personality, had already managed to make himself an enemy in the form of one (1) incredibly vexed young radio host slash serial killer in the making.

"...And that's the Music Hall, where my vice-dean and most beloved wife holds her concerts and lectures on Murder, as a Fine Arts- you may notice the ingenious references there to one Mr. Thomas De Quincey, the famed opium eater of the 1800s London..." Alastor turns a blind eye to the dean as the man just kept on talking, choosing instead to focus on the surroundings instead of the urge to strangle the annoyance beside him.

The trip to the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners- a mouthful and an incredibly unnecessary one at that- had been less a trip to a school and more like a kidnapping, in which Alastor had been more or less blackmailed into going with the two detectives who'd found him in the bayou that day and then drugged to high hell from some sort of tampered liquor, then promptly deposited in front of the school gates and almost fed broken glass twice before nearly being poisoned and then having to sit through another blackmailing session with the Dean (the guy who'd tried to poison him in the first place). So... all in all, a rather unpleasant experience on his end.

Still, the scenery almost made up for it.

The campus was almost the size of his town back home, and towering gothic buildings from before his time populated the grounds. Signs in different languages were littered around the campus grounds, and exotic foliage grew in just the right places to make the patchwork of cobbled streets and oddly vintage buildings look uniform.

"Oh, Vox! How are you this afternoon?"

Alastor's attention is drawn back to the dean as the man greets a young man dressed in formal evening attire, complete with a pocket square boutonniere and sleek black gloves. The man in question has short-ish black hair, tied back into a small ponytail with a deep blue ribbon, and two striking eyes: one a glassy larimar blue and the other the deep brown of axinite gems. Alastor finds himself regarding the other while he and the dean make simple conversation. Something about him strikes him as familiar, though he can't quite put a finger on it exactly. "Going to the Music Hall, I presume?"

"That would be correct, Sir," Vox inclines his head respectfully. "Professor Leviathan asked us to dress for the occasion, since we would be doing another ballroom class."

"Ballroom class?" Alastor raises an eyebrow, and the man startles, seemingly not having noticed he was there. Rather inept for an assassin-to-be, Alastor frowns. Were these really the sorts of students they were training? Pretty-faced civilians knowing nothing of killing, who dressed up in evening gather for afternoon classes?

"A-ah, yes..." Vox looks off to the side, seemingly nervous. His cheeks redden slightly, like a child caught in the act of stealing candy. "Uh. You're new here, right? I haven't seen you around before..."

"He is," Dean Morningstar confirms, beaming. "Just arrived this morning, with a very generous sponsor backing him. In fact, he's going to be rooming at Pride House because of the sponsor!"

"Oh, is that so?"

Vox's easy confidence seems to come back to him as he turns to Alastor, seemingly mollified by the Dean's interference. Something inside of Alastor wants to see the man nervous again, if only because the uneasy approach of the man with the gemstone eyes reminded him of the shaky-footed does he would fake out during hunts. "Well, in that case, we might be roommates. It's nice to meet you, Mister...?"

"Hartfelt. Alastor Hartfelt," Dean Morningstar says before Alastor can introduce himself, smiling even when Alastor directs a glare at the man. "He's quite the upstart, I'll have you know- Hell, I think he may have set more fires on his first day here than you did!"

Vox chuckles awkwardly, a reaction that has Alastor's eyebrows raising with curiosity. "Well, I'd sure hope not. I really wouldn't want to cause Professor Leviathan any more trouble than we already have. He deserves a bit of a break from troublemakers like us, I'd say."

While Alastor is... okay, not really all that sure what exactly Dean Morningstar was referring to with 'fires started'- in his case, they were all non literal, considering his first arrival here had ended with him on the wrong end of a shotgun (its irony was not lost to him now, three hours later and standing in the middle of what looked to be a town square plucked straight out of Vienna's bustling populace despite the fact that they were in a location completely unknown to the rest of the world)... but whatever this man had done... it intrigued him, especially given Vox's reaction to it.

"Anyway..." Vox smiles once more, inclining his head in a bow. "I really do have to get going now. If I don't, I'm afraid I may be late, and Professor Asmodeus always picks on the latecomers to answer questions first."

"Ah, we won't keep you any longer, then," Dean Morningstar agrees genially. "Have a good afternoon, Mister Vanhal!"

"You too, Dean Morningstar, Mister Hartfelt," Vox bows once more, before turning off and heading in the direction of the Music Hall. Alastor regards the other man's retreating silhouette carefully.

"Is there something you want to say, young man?" Dean Morningstar snaps him out of his reverie, covering the faint smirk on his face with a gloved hand.

While Alastor wishes he could simply meet the other with simple derision, there is a question he had been meaning to ask. "What was the evening get up for?"

Dean Morningstar shrugs, but there's a glint of something Alastor doesn't quite like in his eyes. "Why don't you go and ask Vox yourself, if you're so interested?"

"...I'm surprised your staff haven't tried to murder you yet," Alastor responds shortly. He's much too tired and frustrated to entertain the man, and- well, frankly put, his mind is a little distracted at the moment at the thought of the man with the mismatched eyes.

Dean Morningstar laughs. "They're certainly welcome to try, as are you. After all, you're now a student of the Hazbin Instution for Homicide Practitioners- and we pride ourselves on our hands-on, engaging curriculum. Hopefully, your sponsor finds what they're looking for by sending you here."

"Hopefully," Alastor agrees. After all, there's nothing else to say: from here on out, it seems to be do or die.

Student Report written with input and conference from Dean Lucifer Morningstar

Student: Alastor Hartfelt, 29 years old, Sponsor

Sponsor: [REDACTED]

To the esteemed and generous sponsor of one Mister Alastor Hartfelt,

Enclosed is a report of your charge's first day at our esteemed institution. Please dispose of this report as soon as you are finished reading it for privacy insurances. We at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners thank you for your interest and your patronage.

Sincerely, Dean Lucifer Morningstar.

[spiritualviolation]

yknow what? fuck you. *hi-fi rushes your cod duo*

anyways i’ve given this au a slight bit more thought so click read more to see my inane ramblings which are. not much.

- it’s literally just an mcc9 pink parrots x hi-fi rush au where nothing really changes except for the main heroes... yeah. i was 3 months late to martyn’s hi-fi rush playthrough...

- tbh i’m not sure whether i should put cc’s as the bosses or just keep them the way they are... i’m apprehensive because the bosses are kinda ableist and putting a mcyt character in their place feels... wrong. the alt option is making ocs but even that i’m kinda bleghhh......

- ANYWAYS martyn is korsica bc ‘self-proclaimed datastream defender’, ‘head of security’, it’s literally right there. martyn is trying so hard to keep a straight face at his own accidental ‘strong arm’ joke during his boss fight. his backstory largely remains the same as korsica’s, except martyn leans more to wanting to work in a position where he could also help people the way he has been helped, rather than korsica who wanted to work at vandelay because she idolised the company. martyn is somehow more and less stubborn than korsica.

- joel is macaron because i think it would be funny but also just could not genuinely think of anyone else. (maybe would’ve used big b...) joel’s backstory is the one that deviates the most from the original, if only to fit his personality, but i kinda think it parallels zanzo a little (as former head of r&d) which would be fun (also hermes is cnmn)

- as seen above, jimmy is chai and grian is peppermint, their backstories remain pretty much the same as chai and peps’, except jimmy isn’t as adamant on being a rockstar as much as chai is, just thinks being a rockstar would be an easier way in life.

- 808 is pearl! i considered using maui at first, but i thought it would be nice to reference both pearl (grian’s cat) and pearl (pearlescentmoon) for 808

i wish there’s more character content bc i genuinely do love the main team a lot

[100prcntbitter]

It's ok because it's very cute.

Character design for @.arrivemedi of a itemlabel themed gyaru girl!

[thisgingerhasnosoul]

The one personally half-decent thing to come out of this whole shitshow is that I no longer give a rat’s ass about petty fandom drama.

Like, it used to be that if I saw a fandom take I disagreed with I’d have gotten all annoyed, but now I see them and I feel… nothing. I literally do not care anymore. There are so many more important things in life than fandom. No point in getting upset over a differing opinion about fiction, especially when most of us are using that fiction to escape our crappy world. As long as you’re not out to kill me for being Jewish, you’re cool.

And to the people who are posting the most unhinged bullshit about Jews in between their 5000 word long meta posts about how their favorite character is the morally correct one and everyone who feels differently is a bad person? Please, for the love of god, rethink your priorities and stop treating what’s happening to real people like another petty fandom fight.

[lordartsy]

collection of me trying to figure out how to draw this guy