And A Happy New Year

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

House md is such a trip because House and Wilson are standing cock to cock, tip to tip, packer to packer, emotionally and physically. House's employees have a polyamorous codependent relationship while also being at each other's throats constantly. Foreman's so represssed they think he's gay, Chase is so sexually active that he can't possibly be straight, Taub and Kutner scissored, Cameron's probably gay but she has a job to do so she isn't going to think about it too hard, Thirteen is bisexual and went to jail once. Everyone has used drugs recreationally at least once. They break into everyone's home then insult the state of their home and then diagnose the patient based on a "That's so Raven" vision that House has. They shouldn't have been doctors, they would all thrive better as Waffle house employees that leap over the counter to fight customers.

some sort of love poem

The Official Jedi view on politics is that they try not to interfere and do not trust politicians, but if they are running out of options on how to settle an issue they will tell Padme Amidala what is going on and just unleash her onto their problems

“This is the house that built me and I’m gonna burn it down.”

Courtney Love Prays to Oregon, Clementine von Radics

My personal dumb and useless head canon for what happened between “twilight of the apprentice” and the epilogue for Ahsoka goes thusly: 

Ahsoka realizes that, now that everyone left the planet, she is stranded on a deserted planet with no visitors and no ships. thankfully, she is a great mechanic, and manages to scrounge up a ship from old parts strewn about from old, destroyed ships and the temple weapon. some are thousands of years old. some are much more recent, from dumbasses who crash on planets… like her lineage.

she explores and studies the temple and the sith writings in her spare time (entertainment is scarce) as she constructs what is, without a doubt, the jankiest, most engineering-student ship that has ever flown. her belt, an old ration wrapper, and tape, among others, are integral parts of the engine. it flies on luck and the force. Morai is facepalming. Bendu is kind of impressed

she nonetheless uses it to get out because she left her self preservation somewhere on christophsis and they do not have a lost and found department.

She then goes to the closest planet to find replacement parts, upgrades, as well as luxuries for her ship (she was holding her pants up the whole takeoff and then decided to just throw them off once inside) (and she needed a kitchen, and food) (and this ship is so old in it’s apparent design and mismatched she easily fits it up to be invisible to the empire).

Knowing that she cannot return to the ghost, or Rex, nor could she ask for another confrontation with Vader, she decides to be the biggest pain in the ass for Sidious, because why not, and also she hates the bitch. 

She destroys force-sensitive ‘sith nurseries’, corrupts secret research data on under the table experiments, just attacks Sidious’ Sith agenda that the rebels don’t care for (cuz the jedi are dead but they forget that the force is not).  

now Sidious knows who it is, but cannot send Vader again, because he is busy, and also failed once and he does not want Vader to be exposed to Anakin again, and Anakin never hated Ahsoka unlike Obi-Wan, so he has to go himself. of course, he is an asthmatic Grandpa, and she is young and fit, so she was gone before his ship arrived on site, but she left cute messages! 

she, head of rebel intelligence, skilled commander and general, war veteran, and he, wartime emperor, are basically just raiding places and chasing each other but because of their own skill and experience, the strategy needed become more and more complex until they are like playing 5d chess whilst the rebel alliance is playing checkers.

 (still mad that they gave military titles and rank to Senators and politicians with no military experience or training. do you think military commanders would give half a second’s thought as to weather or not they should retrieve the death star plans? or even refuse to because they don’t have the votes? nah, they would see planet killer and see it as civil war ender and send everyone they can to destroy the thing the second they learn about it)

and that is why sidious does not actively do anything more than sit on his throne and walk to the window to stare ominously in space next to vader in the OT. he sends vader off then goes to try and fight and mange anakin’s wayward apprentice.

and then when she goes to the cloning facility that is preparing for palpatine’s ‘return’, she programs all the droids to implant biochips that would slowly cut his connection to the force and kill him the more he uses the force, because that is karma for what you did to the clones and order 66.

and that is also why she does not go fight him and lets Rey do that, because she is completely alive, what are you talking about, the daughter made her immortal unless killed and my girl is too strong to be killed. She’s just off being badass in another war or force plane, and is not interested in coming back for a little first order uprising, that’s it.

“Obi-Wan picked up Anakin’s lightsaber. He lifted his own as well, weighting them in his hands. Anakin had based his design upon Obi-Wan’s. So similar they were. “

Ahsoka with a little more Skywalker in her, killing palp and only returning to the order to train Leia is an AU that really butters my eggroll.

Rex is the most exasperated clone in the galaxy. The 332nd is the loudest and most scary battalion in the republic right after aayla securas 327th. Leia is like Ahsokas temper times Anakins hype.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Crack

Cedric: What did you want to tell me, Harry?

Harry: Have my babies

Cedric: ...

Harry: I mean, the first task is dragons

---

McGonagall: Potter, who is your partner for the Yule Ball?

Ron: *kicks down the door while in a stunning blue dress and four-inch heels*

Ron: It's me, bitches.

---

Ron: My dad sent you this to help with the second task

Ron: *opens up box to reveal a bunch of rubber duckies*

---

Harry: Can you give me advice on how to talk to girls?

Sirius: *stares at Harry blankly while the Mii theme plays*

---

*Quidditch world cup*

Arthur: Hey, where's Percy?

Harry: I'll go check

*five minutes later*

Harry, traumatized: He's fucking my old Quidditch captain

---

Draco: *sees Harry and Ron dancing at the Yule Ball*

Draco: MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS

*later*

Draco, writing a letter: Dear Father, I have never been so heart broken or betrayed

I’m dying... what the H-E double fuck is this

GUYS I FOUND THE ORIGINAL SCRIPT FOR THE LIGHTNING THIEF ON THE INTERNET (THE ONE THAT MADE RICK RIORDAN SO ANGRY) AND IT IS GOLD