girlcoded sam readings are like. his arcs are so tied up with control and bodily autonomy and sexual assault and otherness and cleanness and a desire for freedom and rebellion against oppressive masculine forces to the point where an examination of his show-long arcs looks like a thesis on The Female Gothic. he’s never afforded the respect or the power of characters like john and dean and is in fact narratively punished whenever he isn’t subservient to them. both the show itself and the fandom surrounding it treat him like dean’s bitch wife. he is textually compared to female characters multiple times, by the narrative and by dean.
and then meanwhile girlcoded dean readings are like. Eldest daughter core! (his father handed down ultimate control over every aspect of sam’s life once he died like a family heirloom)(he is THE patriarch). Yes he does the cooking yes he does the cleaning (which he doesn’t even…. and even if he solely did all the housework how does that make him Girl Coded unless it’s being delegated exclusively to him like its his role and he’s punished for not conforming to it… which is not happening…).
like girlcoded dean readings rely on stereotypes about women in real life. girlcoded sam readings rely on noticing how much the narrative constructed around sam falls into tropes used in fiction almost always about women. even things like his psychic powers! the way people are always swarming around trying to ‘corrupt’ him! the fixation on his purity and innocence! the two readings are very different things
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we really need to start writing more fics about the botw champion’s being the threats they are. guys they are SOLDIERS. WARRIORS. they are not out here having little cutesy times ok? they are fucking killing shit. Link canonically killed a dude. they are the best of the best at what they do. show it. give these characters depth. don’t just make them their tropes.
like i want less people to just go ‘oh and then they killed an enemy camp anyway.’ like HOW my guy? i am BEGGING please give these characters more depth than what they were given on screen.
especially urbosa! shes not just mommy figure or wine aunt she is a LEADER of her people and a warrior show her acting like one. revali may be a prick but he IS the best warrior rito village has ever seen. he’s not shying away at blood or violence.
MIPHA. my god MIPHA BABY GIRL!! what did they do to you? made you into a uwu wify who is only here to be romantic conflict for other ships??? (and then get mad at you for it?) or only make you links girlfriend? SHE IS A PRINCESS AND A FIGHTER. just because she’s kind does NOT make her weak! she was chosen to piolet a divine beast. they aren’t going to let someone who isn’t capable do that. (SHARP TEETH AND CLAWS ALSO?????)
daruk is massive and strong enough he could probably rip a bokoblin apart with his bare hands, his weapon is there to make everyone else feel better.
like if were gonna write fics about needing to comfort or about anyone being squemish make it Zelda. have her realize she’s basically traveling with some of the most dangerous people in the country and having to figure out how she feels about it.
Like come ON y’all! Think of the fics we could be writing!!!
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"You gotta recognize jc's canon positive traits too"
Hmm, Is he selfless? No. Is he kind? No. Is he a good sect leader? No. Is he a good uncle? No. Is his skills or intelligence exceptional? No. Is he good at regulating his emotions? No. Does he have a likable personality? No. Is he charming/charismatic? No. Do women want to even date him? No.
What good traits exactly? That he is a good swimmer and ranked 5th on the eligible bachelor's list and What else?
A few good things he did:
Distracting the wen guards, telling his mom not to torture wwx that one time, him rescuing wangxian and leading others out from the xuanwu cave, finally letting wwx go at the very end.
BUT these good actions are very few in comparison to the amount of harmful, outright terrible and wrong ones. While he is not evil he isn't exactly a good or admirable person either.
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WE PLAY THE SAME KEYS AT DIFFERENT TIMES — r. kaji.
cw: 18+ mdni, f! reader, car sex, spit.
wc: 0.8k
a/n: unedited. thought about him on my drive home. enjoy.
You and Kaji can’t ever just listen to music in the car together.
He really never intended for it to be like this at first— but once it happened the first time, it’s all he could think of the next time he got in his car. It’s the same every time; inviting you for a ride to listen to a tune that’s stuck in his head, one he claims he can’t get rid of until he hears it again. But with him, it can never just be one song. There are too many that make him think of you these days, despite his best efforts to press skip on those in particular.
He drives around until night falls, and you’ve both shared everything you’ve had on repeat this week. As he pulls onto the highway, the low vibration of his car picking up speed thrums against your thighs, much like the guitar blaring through his speakers. The low light of the city falls on his hands as he steers with practiced motion, heel of his palm flat against the leather. Warm yellow light trails along the veins on his arms, dragging your gaze wherever it touches. It highlights the rim of his features for a split second, long enough to see the way he side eyes you.
He lets out a huff, leaning back against the headrest to hide in the dark, though it’s futile. As he whirrs past the overheads, the light guides your gaze to his thighs, spread lazily even with one foot on the gas, and up, up, up to…oh. It’s only a second that you see it before light rushes past, and you wait on the next street light to illuminate him. It takes its time, stretching slowly over the same path, fingertips to forearms to biceps. A flit of your eyes down, and the car leers onto the exit ramp, light changing its course and missing the bulge of his cock entirely.
The both of you huff for different reasons, you in disappointment, and him in relief. Not that you can hear each other over the music, anyway.
You spend the rest of the ride bopping your head along and picking up your phone to add songs you like to your own playlist. He’s grateful that there aren’t as many street lamps on the route to your place, so you miss the poorly hidden smirk that plays on his lips.
Pulling into your driveway, he thumbs at his wheel to turn the music down just as that one song comes on. The one you fucked to the first time he did this; the reason he keeps inviting you to do this. He pauses, sighing, and turns it back up again. You tense, thighs crossing as you hear the click of his seatbelt and squeak of the leather as he reaches over to click yours, too.
Kaji’s breath always comes out ragged— grits his teeth and hisses through them even as his chest heaves for more oxygen. He’s got you bouncing on his cock in his backseat, guiding you to some extent, rough grip on your hips because he really can’t find it in himself to be gentle. Not when you move so perfectly you hit every goddamn beat.
You’re the perfect melody to him— he has half a mind to lean forward and turn the music down in favor of the sound of you. Ass clapping against his thighs, wet squelching from between yours, breathy moans and gasps and keens. He wishes he could isolate every salacious layer of sound— to savor it, ingrain it into his memory to replay over and over.
The beat of the song slows, just before he knows it’ll build up again. He takes the break to wrap an arm around your waist, effectively slowing the motion of your hips. You whine as he forces you to grind your clit against him, and he hums, captivated.
Using his free hand, he twirls his fingers through your hair, wrapping the strands around to get enough hold to pull you forward, the abruptness ripping a gasp from you. Perfect. Twisting his lips up, he tilts his head forward, letting a glob of spit travel past his lips and drip down onto your awaiting tongue as he plants his feet firm on the ground. With all the leverage in the world, he bucks his hips up into you as the beat picks up again, the heavy weight of his thrusts knocking the air from your lungs.
It gets hard to move when you squeeze around him, ticks him off that you’re slowing down his rhythm. He just wants to give you what you deserve and you’re always holding him back with that fucking grip of yours. At least, he thinks, you’re giving him a chance to readjust his hips, so he can hit that spongey spot inside you until the song closes out, until all that’s left is the sound of your shared panting.
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Idk if u watch Bnha but i think u will love the Story right now it has over 60 Chapters.
As Yamato, Son of Kaido, heals from her wounds from a battle against her tyrannical father, a chance meeting with a injured boy in green opens her world. And that world, will change.The boy's name? Midoriya Izuku.
I mean absolutely no offense to the writer or the people who enjoy this fic but personally I get an ick every time I read she/her pronouns for Yamato, who is canonically trans. I’m sure otherwise I would really enjoy it, since Yamato is one of my favorite characters and I’m a fan of the bnha world as well, but,,, yeah
Yamato to me is such a powerful character in terms of the impact he has had on the fanbase. Especially as someone who presents usually pretty fem and has difficulty getting people to refer to me by my own preferred pronouns, I love seeing people acknowledge Yamato’s chosen identity :)
Thanks for the recommendation though!! Crossovers are my bread and butter, so if you find any other fics you think I might like, do feel free to send them my way!
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