#Because I fucking love that he's an American stereotype

[lockerandom]

So, Oda said that Robin's real world ethnicity would be Russian. What would we think of an Romani actress for her?

[lay-z]

I'm sorry, but this is so self-indulgent, it hurts. I've been thinking about it since it happened...So, here goes nothing. Also, this took a turn while I wrote it, because I have no control over myself and usually change plotlines mid-writing. MINORS, DNI - 18+ only !!! Pairing: f!reader x John 'Soap' MacTavish Warnings/Info: German reader 🇩🇪; trash talk; banter; cussing; Scottish slang (I feel like that should count as a warning...); German language; fuckbuddies to lovers; sexual tension; explicit smut; unprotected sex; some jealousy; dom!Soap; fluff

“Ach, ye gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me, lass!" Soap scoffs loudly as soon as he sees you swagger in to the private 141 rec room inside the HQ with a smug smile on your lips and that popular pink football jersey of the German national team adorning your body. 

Soap is wearing his new cobalt blue Scotland jersey himself; fabric straining around his bulging biceps, stretching over his broad chest, and fitting snugly around his narrow waist like a second skin, because he's bought it a size too small on purpose.  

Captain Price and Gaz are both showing off their support and colours by wearing their white England jerseys, naturally, while Ghost doesn't seem to care much because 'our bloody team isn't playing tonight anyways'. Keegan is wearing a vintage looking Portugal jersey, because 'Cristiano is still the fucking goat', and Roach is just happy to be there, really. He's more into American football, but he doesn't dare to speak that thought out loud tonight. 

The atmosphere is light-hearted, riddled with boisterous laughter, crude banter and the smells of Price's cigar smoke, savoury snacks, hefty beer and hard liquor, while the group is gathered around the sofa in front of the large flat TV screen mounted on the wall, either sitting on its plush cushions or on one of the office chairs borrowed from one of the nearby meeting rooms.  

Tensions are high, especially between you and Soap as the group waits for the preliminary reporting and interviews to end and the match to finally begin. 

Germany vs. Scotland, the first opening match for this year's European Football Championship tournament. 

Soap chokes up during Scotland's national anthem, overwhelmed by the sheer pride his fellow countrymen display in the stadium in Munich, while you merely stand with your hand over your heart as the German national anthem is sung next – singing your own national anthem and showing any kind of patriotism for your country, always makes you feel weird somehow; many thanks to inherited generational shame.  

Still, you feel a tiny bit of pride as you witness your own compatriots sing the anthem just as noisily as the Scots. 

"That a rare smile I spy on yer lips, lassie?" Soap teases after the anthems are finished, nudging his elbow against your upper arm while he's holding a bottle of beer in his hand. He loves to tease you with stereotypes that don't even apply to you most times, but he does it, nonetheless.  

"Ye like how yer fellow Krauts have shown some pride in their country, eh?" He snickers, earning a sharp, scolding glare from Captain Price.  

"Careful, MacTavish," the Captain chides from his chair next to the couch, his voice muffled by the cigar he's currently chewing on, while the others chuckle and snort among each other, "Keep the bloody banter above the belt, son."  

However, you simply click your tongue and roll your eyes at him as Soap continues to grin at you. Both of you know that he doesn't mean any menace by it, and you've said way worse stuff to each other in the past anyway – all in the name of good-natured, friendly banter, of course. Besides, you live for the constant banter and bickering between you two. It's pretty much the main foundation of your friendship, and what inevitably lead to your affair.  

"Very proud of my Krauts, yeah," you retort eventually, completely unfazed by the "slur", poking his large biceps with your forefinger harshly as you shoot him a mock glare, "I'll be even prouder when our team has completely annihilated yours, Scotch." 

Soap's chest rumbles with a low grunt at your name calling, and he loves how you defy him easily, as he lets his dark blue eyes roam over your figure appreciatively. He notices how the fabric of your jersey clings to your upper body, accentuating your delicious curves and ample chest, and how the thin collar hugs your pretty neck, making him want to wrap his hand around your throat just like he did last night. 

Gaz chuckles at your comment and even Ghost snorts quietly behind his balaclava, while Soap narrows his eyes at you playfully, now towering as he takes one more step towards you; close enough for you to tilt your head back slightly to keep eye contact with him.  

Gods, you love how tall he is compared to you; how he could easily bend you to his will if he wanted to. 

Soap notices how your pupils dilate as you hold his gaze fiercely and he can already feel his blood heat up in his veins with excitement, rushing south. He clenches his jaw as you bat your eyelashes up at him with that bratty smirk of yours and his fingers tighten around the cold beer bottle in his hand, the other one stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, to keep himself from grabbing and bending you over the couch in front of everyone, including your superiors.  

The tension between you two is becoming more noticeable to everyone present now, all thick and palpable.  

"Is – is that behaviour considered normal for them?" Roach enquires in a hushed whisper as he leans in to speak to the other men, shoving another handful of salted and roasted peanuts into his mouth while his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Soap. He's more interested in whatever is going on between the two Sergeants than the goddamn soccer game on TV. 

Keegan simply nods with an affirming hum as he lifts the rim of his beer bottle to his lips, eyes glued to the TV, while Gaz answers verbally, also not taking his eyes off the screen. 

"Aye," the latter confirms, "Just ignore them, Sanderson. We don't interfere, unless they get physical. Right, Captain?" 

The older male nods firmly in return, his face a mask of seriousness as he watches the kick-off with intrigue, taking a slow sip of his glass of bourbon. 

"And even then, only if it's not sexual." Ghost adds gruffly, though one can practically hear that he's smirking beneath his mask. The Lieutenant has never said it out loud yet, but he is very much aware of the thing that has been going on between his Sergeant's for a while now.  

Soap manages to stay cocky after the first two goals for the German soccer team, despite his teammates and, especially, your teasing. The third one, a penalty goal, makes him break out in a sweat with both anger and devastation, all hope for a win now gone at once.  

The Germans don't stop there, though. 

You're tugging at Soap's arm, his jersey, jumping up and down like some excited bunny, laughing and cheering hysterically after having had a few drinks at this point, celebrating with the rest of the team, while the Scotsman looks on with a sour, stony expression.  

He doesn't even know when everyone else suddenly became a fan of the goddamn Germans, all he knows is that his team is losing, and he's currently outnumbered by impostors. Creepin' Jesus, even Roach is cheering for them! He should've known better than to watch the bloody game with you and the lads. 

"Aw, come on, Soapey!" You coo at him condescendingly, grinning widely as he crosses his arms in front of his chest with a huff, rolling his shoulders coolly as if he's not incredibly vexed, "Are you not enjoying the game, huh?" 

"Ach," he scoffs, shrugging off your hand from his shoulder like a petulant child, "Away an bile yer heid." 

"English, MacTavish!" Ghost scolds from his seat on the couch, having heard the insult despite the noise in the room, and you can see how badly Soap wants to flip the Lieutenant off.  

"Ah, ah, ah, Johnny," you butt in a with a smug tone to your voice, "Be nice now. Your boys can still win thi–" 

Your voice is cut off by loud cheering as Germany scores their fourth goal. 

"Fuckin' sore winner, hen," Soap grunts as he bullies his cock deeper into your quivering cunt; right up to the hilt, stretching your velvety walls and hitting your g-spot repeatedly while you're burying your face into the soft pillows on the mattress beneath you, muffling your desperate noises as you take his fat cock like the good little bonnie you usually are behind closed doors. 

In this position, he has the best view on your delicious curves and soft skin, now adorned with his deep blue Scotland jersey after he’d swiftly pulled the German one off you once you were in your bedroom; the fabric now rucked up to your shoulder blades, one hand of his fisting the stretchy fabric tightly to keep you exposed. 

"Teasin' me all fuckin’ night," he huffs through gritted teeth as his blunt nails dig into your skin, tightening his grip around the fat on your hips with his other hand, so you can't escape him, "Over some fuckin' football game." 

While Soap rolls and thrusts his hips in a steady, brutal rhythm, positioned between his spread knees behind you, you're grabbing fistfuls of your blanket as you moan and whimper helplessly, dampening the white sheets with your drool, taking everything he's giving you in retaliation to your bratty behaviour back at the rec room. 

Soap had immediately grabbed a tight hold of your wrist and pulled you out of the room, towards the 141 quarters, as soon as the final whistle had rung out, ending the match with a terrible loss for Scotland. He didn’t bear to stand a minute longer to listen to his and your teammates mockery, and he didn’t care about the confused looks everyone, except Ghost, were shooting you and him as you’d left together. 

He doesn’t care much anymore that Scotland lost to Germany – 5:1; it just so happens to be the perfect excuse to completely wreck you tonight, and Soap keeps telling himself that it’s not at all because he’s witnessed Keegan getting friendly with you over the past few times the team went out to the pub on base. You two might not be official, but you’re still his – and his only.

His friend, his fuckbuddy, his lover.

"You're jus'.... mad they– a-ah~" You slur, but your words are cut off by another pathetic moan that is ripped from your throat when Soap grabs you by the nape of your neck suddenly, like a dog would grab her puppies, squeezing your flesh and muscle with his calloused hand to keep you in place, then pulls his thick cock out up to its angry-red tip only to pound back into you with determined fervour to finally shut you up for good. 

No, Soap is not mad about the bloody game – he’s mad that you’d spent halftime sitting on Keegan’s lap like an obedient puppy when the latter had asked you to take a seat, because the chairs were taken and Ghost took up most space on the sofa – and Soap was too proud to tell you to sit on his lap instead.

The bed rocks and creaks under your combined weight, hitting the wall repeatedly with a very telling “thudthudthudthud–” for your surrounding neighbours, your teammates, while the warm glow of your bedside lamp casts a lewd shadow of your current activity on the white walls of your bedroom. Fuck, Soap hopes Keegan can hear you two going at it in his apartment.

“What was that, bonnie? Ye said sum’?” the Scotsman grits out mockingly, biting his lower lip, nostrils flaring with exerted breaths as he squeezes your neck tighter, forcing you to arch your back and your pretty ass up into him as he pounds into you; skin slapping skin as his balls tap against your clit with each deep and rapid thrust. 

Meanwhile, you don’t even register his teasing words anymore as you’re fully focused on the mind-blowing pleasure Soap is giving you; hard and dominating and the opposite of how the usually treats you during sex.  

Your eyes roll back, toes curling as the tension of your impending climax begins to build up, up, up then; heat blossoming in your lower abdomen as he keeps pushing you towards the edge with each delightful rock of his powerful hips and his girthy cock ramming into your sweet spot.  

However, Soap knows those sounds you’re making all too well already; the way you’re breathing pattern changes, the higher pitch of your wanton moans and sweet cries of pleasure, the way your walls begin to clench harder around his thick length, practically sucking him in deeper into your silky heat – he can read all the signs like the bloody morning paper, knows you’re about to cum on his dick... 

And despite his own pleasure licking and tingling at his lower spine, making his burly muscles tense and twitch and his balls tighten with the inevitable – he stops his movements at once, ruins both your orgasms, and pulls his throbbing cock from your soppy, warm cunt. Glancing down briefly, Soap sees his bare cock glistening with your slick, creamy arousal and his pearly pre-cum gathering at the base of his cock, and the sight makes him shudder and groan with excitement. 

He can’t have you cum like this tonight, though, fucking you doggy – Gods, no. Soap needs to watch you fall apart on his cock, needs to see your gorgeous features contort in pleasure and your reaction when he spills his thick load into you for the very first time without anything holding him back and separating him from you – knowing he’s the only one able to have you like this.

“Up,” he grunts out next, simultaneously pulling you upwards by your neck while he feels your rapidly fluttering pulse under his fingertips, until your back is flush with his sweat-slicked and bare, heaving chest while his rock hard cock rubs and pokes along your ass cheeks, “Gimme yer mouth.”  

Cranking your neck towards him obediently, Soap reaches out and cups the side of your jawline to angle your face to his liking, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss and swiftly plunging his hot tongue past your lips. Your eyes flutter shut as you moan into his mouth while his other large hand snakes around your body, slipping beneath his jersey you’re wearing, cupping and groping your plump tits greedily, pinching your stiff nipples with the rough pads of his thumb and forefinger.

Soap goes on to shift and manhandle you into a different position and you gladly let him. 

He pushes you down onto your back, smirking to himself when you spread your legs for him all too eagerly, making grabby hands with a frustrated pout to have him on top of you again – it’s adorable, really, and he appreciates the view of your pussy, all puffy and wet for him, before he nestles himself between your thighs – the place that has easily become his favourite over the past few months.

 “Yer such a brat,” Soap chuckles darkly as he grabs one of your legs by your calf to hike it up over his broad shoulder, then the other, before he spits into his palm and gives his cock a few good pumps with his fist, tapping and rubbing the swollen tip on your sensitive clit teasingly until you let out a needy whine, one hand of yours reaching up to hold on to the back of his neck, tugging at his short Mohawk.

You’re his brat, though. Emphasis on his.

“And you’re such an ass tonight, Johnny,” you mewl in return and suck in a breath when Soap aligns his thick tip with your slick hole, pushing in halfway with one languid thrust and leaving you both breathless again. 

“’m not an arse,” he objects with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watches you bite your lower lip raw to keep your lewd noises at bay, “Ye just have a way of drivin’ me doolally, hen.” He counters, and then leans in to crash your lips together once more, folding your legs up even further while his cock sinks into your cunt fully, followed by a guttural moan of his when he feels your walls clench and tighten around him, squeezing him until his muscles tremble with restraint.

He groans against your lips; the feeling of your throbbing heat and the taste of your soft tongue flicking and lapping against his is nearly enough to make him cum on the spot. It’s almost like he can feel your heartbeat through your snug, perfect pussy, and it nearly drives him to the brink of madness each time you let him fuck you.

“You can’t say shit like doolally and not expect me to laugh,” you snicker softly, nipping at his lower lip as you lock eyes with him, batting your eyelashes, “Sounds fucking ridiculous.” 

Soap grins in return and continues his deep, deliberate thrusts into your delicious cunt. His heart always flutters giddily whenever you gaze into his eyes with that cheeky look of yours, especially when his cock is buried to the hilt inside you, stretching you out with every inch he has to offer.

“Say some in German then,” he croons lowly, nudging his nose below your chin to make you tilt your head up to give him better access to your neck before he begins peppering wet, hot kisses along your pulse point, sucking a purple love bite into your creamy skin to mark you up. “I wanna laugh, too,” he grumbles between nips and pecks. 

You click your tongue in mock annoyance, enjoying his ministrations and the way his beard tickles your skin too much to be mad at his teasing, and you tug on his short hair a little harder before raking your nails over his scalp until he purrs against your skin in pure bliss. Soap can feel how you swallow hard as he licks a long stripe from your collarbone up your throat, then your walls clench tightly around his cock and he grits his teeth as another pleasant shudder runs down his spine.  

“Say. Sum’. To. Me. Lass.” He demands, this time punctuating each word with a sudden deep and sharp rock of his hips that makes the bed’s headboard hit the wall again. 

Your eyes flutter shut with a breathy moan and your brain short-circuits while each of his thrusts makes a jolt of hot searing pleasure shoot right into your core, making your spine tingle and your body tense with bliss. 

“Ich liebe dich,” you blurt out unintentionally instead of an insult, your speech slurred and unintelligible as he presses his weight further into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs in this position. Your eyes widen as soon as you realize what you’ve just confessed and you pray he didn’t understand that. 

Soap doesn’t speak German, but those words do sound familiar. 

His stomach tightens, his heart skips a heavy beat while his mind begins to race, and his rhythm falters momentarily before he picks up his pace again, fucking into you fast, deep and thoroughly to drown out the sudden wave of foreign emotions on the brink of overwhelming him. 

“Again,” he demands against your ear, gripping your body tightly and keeping you in place on the mattress as he ruts into your cunt with newfound vigor and goad, his pelvis stimulating your clit with each sharp snap of his hips.

“Say –“ He gets a hold of your jaw, curling his large hand around it to make you look at him while he grits his teeth, huffing like some feral bull. “– that again.”

Reaching one hand out behind you, you brace your flat palm against the headboard while your other hand keeps holding on to the back of his neck, fingernails digging into thick muscle and skin as you cling onto him desperately.

“F-fuck, Johnny!” You cry out. “Ich liebe dich, du Vollidiot!” you repeat in between breathy, high-pitched moans, though more confident this time, before your eyes roll back in pleasure with another loud moan of his given name.

Soap can barely keep it together then. His heart nearly bursts out of his chest and his jaw clenches so hard, the veins in his neck start protruding and fluttering with his rapid pulse as he feels you come apart around his cock; your tight, soppy walls convulsing and clenching, pushing and coaxing him to his own sudden release.

And he lets go of your jaw, clutches the pillow next to your head tightly as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, groaning and moaning shamelessly as his body seizes up, balls tightening almost painfully before he spends his thick cum into your perfect cunt.

You wince and exhale a hiss when Soap leans back to look at you and lowers your legs at last, letting you stretch out your sore muscles while he stays buried inside you, moving his hips almost lazily and caressing your burning leg muscles soothingly while both your bodies keep twitching and shaking with small aftershocks. You can feel his warm cum and your own wetness leaking and dripping down your ass crack, ruining your bed sheets below – and you remember that you did actually let him fuck you raw this time in a fit of frivolity.

Your blurry vision becomes clear again once you blink away the haziness and then you already feel Soap’s calloused fingers tracing your jawline, his deep blue eyes drinking in your gorgeous, flushed features almost reverently.

“What?” You ask defensively, looking up at his ruggedly handsome face, now squirming under his uncharacteristically tender gaze and the feeling of his softening cock still resting all snug inside your cunt, acting as if you haven’t just professed your love to him, after weeks of dancing around the topic.

“Well,” he begins, clearing his throat after another beat of awkward silence as he can feel his cheeks begin to heat up with a burning blush,

“Ye cannae finally confess ye love me an’ not expect me ta combust, luv.”

[headlessdino]

head empty just latino jason todd. no i'm not saying this because of the poor drug latino stereotypes, i'm literally latino. i just can't stop picturing him as a chilean (or mexican) american solely because i love to project onto him. look me straight in the eye and tell me that he wouldn't know how to make some good fucking empanadas, cause i know damn well he would.

[coff33andb00ks]

where i come from - LS

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!reader (lilli. it's lilli) summary: hitch a ride to the end of the highway where the neons turn to wood word count: 1.2k a.n.: the first of three small fics for my beloved Lilli @maxlarens Happy birthday my darling!! I hope you enjoy this little love letter to you (and to american road trips). inspo: all the road trip songs my family blasted during my childhood, compiled here warnings: it's not a waffle house it's a waffle home, author is in love with american south almost as much as Lilli's in love with Logan

"Logan, you can't be serious."

He laughs, parking the car next to a slightly bent light pole. "What? You want to see America, right?"

You press your lips together, staring at the small, flat building that looks as though it's been in that spot since the 1960s and hasn't been refurbished once. "This is America?"

"One of the best parts," he promises, climbing out. The balmy air of Florida immediately makes the car's cold air disappear and you sigh, unbuckling your seatbelt as he walks around to open the door for you.

"A Waffle House is America?"

"Trust me," he says. "You'll understand."

You do trust him, so you let him take your hand, sweat beading before you've taken two steps across the parking lot. There's a crowd of people near the door and you feel their eyes on you and Logan as you approach, the air thick with humidity and weed and tobacco smoke.

The interior is worse than the exterior. Your sandals slide with each step on the ancient tile floor and you can feel the grease in the restaurant. A bored server is leaning against a booth and hands you and Logan menus as you walk by, telling you to sit wherever. You want to turn around and go sit in the car, but…

Logan looks so fucking happy.

So you sit in a booth with him, ignoring the sticky spot on the bench that catches the material of your shorts. You ignore the faint aroma of tobacco smoke that lingers in the dining area. You ignore the yelling from the kitchen staff and the argument starting up between a couple at the counter.

The food is pure American stereotype. Sweet, greasy, and the portions enormous. But your first bite of the burger has you smiling. Because—

"Oh my god," you practically moan.

Across from you, Logan's grinning.

The server is pure southern charm as soon as she hears your accent, and you relax as you enjoy a meal big enough to last you an entire day. It's not great but it's good, and the atmosphere seems to shift.

He buys you a mug, telling you under his breath about a time his brother stole one because apparently everyone does that. Once outside in the sweltering heat, he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. "Welcome to America."

The road trip was his idea. It's the best way to see this land he loves so much and because you love him so much you agreed, and after a week with his family you're driving out of the Florida panhandle, the windows down and the music blasting, both of you singing Sweet Home Alabama at the top of your lungs.

He takes an exit off the interstate and you're already lost but he's content, speeding along unmarked country roads, past lush forests and rolling fields. He has to slow to a crawl for tractors, and every time a car passes he waves like the other person is an old friend.

Left or right? at every stop sign. No map, no GPS, just a whim.

A tiny shop – gas station, babe, not a shop – in the middle of nowhere is selling fresh peaches and the woman is so sweet and talkative you want to stay and talk all day. Her great aunt makes those crochet blankets you're admiring and before you know it you've got three draped over your arms.

"Where y'all headed?" she's asking as Logan pays.

He shrugs, smiling that bashful smile that made you fall in love with him. "Nowhere, really."

She gives the vaguest yet most detailed directions to a motel – you're gonna wanna drive thataway til you see the old rusted school bus? Then take a left and keep driving til you pass the turnoff for the highway. It's down on the right. If you get to the stoplight you done went too far – and Logan gives you a look as you bite into a fresh Georgia peach.

You smile.

More rolling fields and woods. Farms and family homes and kids on swings. He gets to the stoplight and you both laugh all the way back to the motel.

It's tiny and has almost zero amenities but it's clean and the window overlooks a small field of wildflowers. You take a shower and when you come out there's a jar with a bunch of wildflowers in it and you smile at him. You've been smiling so much the past couple days that your cheeks ache.

He finds a place to get dinner and you feast on what he says is pretty okay bbq but you think is the best you've ever tasted.

The next day you're better prepared, and you fully enjoy the rambling tour of the countryside, relaxing with each passing mile. Feet on the dash, singing along to Fleetwood Mac and Tom Petty and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Songs that are familiar and songs that he knows every word to and you are still learning.

Lunch is a picnic, thrown together with gas station sandwiches and bags of chips, sitting on one of the blankets you bought yesterday by a river. You want to enjoy the scenery, because it is as beautiful as he always told you it was, but all you can focus on is him.

He looks so happy. You've seen him happy, of course, but lately he's been downtrodden. Anxious. And you sit there, watching him as he talks about maybe making it up into North Carolina by sundown, seeing how relaxed he is.

And you fall a little in love with this spot of the world that heals him.

"You love it here," you say softly after a bit of silence.

Logan nods, looking out to the river where it disappears into the trees. "I do."

"I'm—"

"I love sharing it with you more."

Oh. Oh. Your eyes are burning and it's not fair that he can drop the sweetest lines when you least expect them even though by now you should expect them because he always does and—

"Lilli?"

You blink and he's moved to sit right in front of you. "Logan?"

Why does he look worried? Your mind scrambles, thinking something must be wrong. He feels ill, or he just spotted some venomous snake slithering nearby or—

He shifts and you glance down, seeing the ring sparkling in his hand.

Later you'll remember every word he says. How his hand shakes and his voice wavers while he tells you how much he loves you and how happy you make him. But for now all you hear is the river splashing over rocks and birds twittering and the breeze ruffling the leaves of the oak tree. And all you can see his eyes, shining and bright and beautiful.

There's hot sauce on his fingers and yours are gritty with salt. His lips taste of salt and vinegar and there's an ant crawling on your leg, and he's apologizing for not giving you some grand proposal, but you don't care. You're glad he asked you here.

"I love you," he whispers, forehead resting against yours and you feel the sigh that exhales his worries.

He worried that you'd say no. As if yes wasn't on your lips before he said the words.

"I love you, Logie."

[lukolucky]

INTRO!!!

Yes I waited till new year to post this

Who am I?

My name is LukoLucky! For short, you can call me Luko or Oliver. I am an artist and animator!

I REALLY love jsab and dragons, so expect my art to be mostly about those things!

PLEASE READ MY BLACKLIST!

About my ocs & Au....

I have a lot of characters, which I can't keep track of... But I most certainly say some small facts about them, their name included!

I am also writing my own JSAB au; Lost Memories.

After the pandemic pink anarchy happened, several of those involved were still struggling to be accepted, trying to fit into a society that hated the loud, bright pink in their souls. But the one who struggled the most to live a normal life is Fresh, who always won people's attention, not only because of his color... But because of the controversial fact that he looked almost exactly like the figure that caused such an immense rebellion...

Anyway... I might change the name, but I'd love to hear some opinions first<3

About me!

Despite my yapping and long conversations, I am actually very shy and reserved, It's not anyone's fault that I don't want to make friends or respond to comments, but please understand that! But if you'd like, you can always leave a question!

I am trans (ftm) and bisexual! I go by HE/THEY with male pronouns being preferred, thank you!

If you can't tell... I FUCKING LOVE LYCANTHROPY!!! And Cubic from TPC...

You can always request me something! But there's a high chance I won't do said request, sorry about that pal

I won't do a dni list, because I'll just block anyone whose behaviour is harmful to me

Sharing my art is highly appreciated!!! Just please don't delete my watermark, copy or claim as yours.

Socials!

I only have Discord, Telegram, Roblox, Pinterest and Tiktok under the same name

Thank you for reading ♡ please, enjoy some of my art below!

BLACKLIST:

People:

Tetric-Eletric (Alfred's playhouse fan)

Lesboyajaceare (Contradicted sexuality)

Cintagonisupset (very bad person)

Circuclipse (Darkshipping)

Pentellow is a cutie (supporter of proshipping)

Stuff:

Darkship, Proship, Comship, or any ship that is disgustingly made with the excuse that "helps you cope"

People who attack those who suffer from misophonia

Racism

Latin American stereotypes

Romanticization of disorders/disabilities, at this point I am disappointed

Excessive drama

[smytherines]

This is such an interesting like 20-30 seconds to me. We go from this wholesome Sears portrait studio setup where Cynthia asks "is that Owen??" and they both grin like lovesick fools

Then Cynthia insults Curt and praises Owen and tries to recruit him. Owen looks surprised and shuts her down immediately, but Curt is (understandably) not thrilled about it and ends the call in a hurry

Owen says "what are you, jealous? You know I'd never work for the Americans," but Curt is already getting the flask out (hello rsd spiral my old friend)

And then we have Owen seeing the flask and saying "Oh Curt, no, not until we're out of here," and Curt responding defensively by mocking his accent and his concern, and then handing him the flask

Whenever I listen to 54 Below and hear Tessa say "when these two spies are together they are gay and unstoppable" I imagine that first image, and when Lauren says "until Curt's ego gets in the way" I think of the flask

I just find it fascinating because, to me, this is the moment it all starts falling apart. When it was just the two of them, before this call, they seem pretty happy to see each other. You certainly get the sense that they're competitive, and Curt initially seems a bit annoyed or embarrassed about Owen rescuing him, but uhh. I mean just look at them:

It isn't until Cynthia sort of pits them against each other, until the outside world starts to intrude on them, that things start to get tense. Curt starts dismissing Owen's concerns and taking bigger risks to prove himself, lying to Owen to take a bigger risk than Owen agreed to (Owen saying "make it four," and Curt deciding to set the timers for three minutes instead)

Just. Something about how painful it must have been for Curt to believe that he lost Owen not to some grand fateful accident that he never could have seen coming, but over something as small and petty and ultimately temporary as his own insecurity. That he wanted so badly to save face in front of a partner he loved and respected that he ended up getting that partner killed

And how painful it must have been for Owen to love Curt and trust him, only for Curt to lie to him and leave him for dead. How Owen must have thought back to this a thousand times and believed that it happened because Curt cared more about being the best than about him (which I don't think is correct, but is understandable from his perspective)

To have the kind of relationship that seemingly survived being separated by an ocean, and being property of two different governments, and being gay in the 1950s, and they still look at each other like that, and then to lose it all because you're so used to having to maintain this stereotypically masculine role in your hypermasculine profession. That seeing the man you love is dependent on you being the best, and trying to live up to that impossible standard is what ends up destroying the both of you

There's just something so fucking... tragic and futile about it

[relaxxattack]

can you rant abt hiveswap and how it changes the per-established alternian lore and not in a good way. i hold no stake in this topic but i love to hear about worldbuilding differences and people complaining

oh my god i would loveeee too. well first of all the obvious stuff with how they seem to think the beta trolls were the stereotypes for their caste (NOT TRUE... very very untrue but ESPECIALLY untrue with like. jadebloods goldbloods and purplebloods who seem to get this the worst somehow)

i hateeee how they made jades preppy THATS KANAYAS THING.. AND SHES EXPLICITLY *WEIRD* FOR THAT. they literally mention it like over 20 times how kanaya is sooooo weird for liking fashion and dressing well and then. oh no i guess every jade does that actually whoops sorry! ToT and god do i even need to go into the terrible prevalence of the idea that "jadebloods are typically/instinctively nurturing" when that is textually not the case?

goldbloods all having double horns is not that big of a deal tbh but its really funny to me that they made that assumption when sollux is like. actively called a mutant for most of the comic. "oh yeah hes mutated and weird and fucked up and some of his body parts are doubled (cue dick jokes here)". like that was a thing for sollux but they just decided to say "well actually. thats just how all goldbloods are"

most purplebloods having a "clowny aesthetic" is fine with me honestly since theres an actual Profession of being a subjuggalator and presumably lots of purples are going to be wanting to go into that? but alllll of them being full on juggalo cultists goes directly against canon. its like. the difference between american lawmaking and christianity. yes the separation of church and state is like nonexistent here. but just because american lawmaking is an enterprise controlled by christianity doesnt mean that All Politicians/Cops are automatically christian. and definitely not the same kind of christian?? there are probably agnostic clowns, or clowns who are only into cultism for the aesthetic. even reformist vs. orthodox clowns. they may all be upholding the same systemic white christian status quo, but they doesn't mean they all fit into that niche themselves. if that makes sense?

and of course i've already made a whole post about how i hate the idea that olivebloods are all feral little rogues, since that makes very little sense in canon.

i would really love to do that full stream of the hiveswap and friendsim games just. going through all of their alternian stuff and explaining my thoughts on it and how it relates to canon... i could go on and on about this stuff for ages and get into way more than just caste stereotypes. i think i would need to reread all of homestuck first to make sure i wasnt just pulling shit out of my ass and was truly studied up though, lmao

[thenightshadowqueen]

Livestream Watchthrough Thoughts (14-12-2024)

I loved this stream! It was a lot of fun, despite the heckler (they made some great jokes out of it, but it’s still a shitty thing to do), and… Yeah, I don’t have much else to say before I start my thoughts, other than I made a new tag for my watchthrough thoughts, because I’ll probably be making these again. They’re really fun to make, and it seems like there are some people who enjoy reading them, too, so it all works out quite well.

The audio is great!!!

“Lovely little Luke Manning” I love that this is a new thing Sam seems to be doing

Tom has his head in his hands a minute in… this is going to be a good show

Honestly, just settling in and listening to Sam’s intro is so comforting (can you tell my autism likes repetition?)

“I’m taking the joke about German train stations out of my head, because Tom doesn’t want everyone to hate me” this intro has had some edgier jokes and I’m here for it

Callback to the Prime Minister’s First Day!

“I almost understand everything you say!” He said it so earnestly

I know it’s a different tunnel, but… Cliff, is that you?

AJ inserting what’s meant to be a one-off atmosphere-setting singsong and then Sam making him change it over and over is peak SFTH

We made it all the way through munchkin land with Luke without a short joke—amazing!

“Your performance” okay fuck this guy (slight overreaction? …No.)

(They are doing a really good job of handling the heckler, though)

I love the new format of Letters!!!

“Jonathan Rolex” I genuinely have no idea if this is a real person involved with creating Rolex watches (I assume not, but I do not know anything about this sort of thing, so I could be wrong)

“How fucking dare you” Luke is amazing at picking tones of voice; he sounds so politely offended and it’s great

Ooh, we’re breaking the… It’s not really the fourth wall, but kind of?

“You’re. In. …Words.” I love AJ

“Yay!” That was so sweet; Tom is amazing

I love when they do this accent (I’m not sure what part of the UK it’s from and now I fear I’m living up to American stereotypes (I swear I used to know, but I’m exhausted and it’s been a minute since I looked it up))

“Shut the FUCK UP!” Fuck yeah Sam and AJ!

Also Sam indirectly calling the heckler an ass is iconic

“For a wise man, you’ve got to work on your mime” I love it when they insult each other (look insults are a love language, okay, and I like seeing people have friends)

“Tell me a little bit about gold, then” I love that AJ took not knowing what frankincense was (which I assume was genuine, although it could have just been a bit) and turned it into a running joke with the gold

This is so confused and I love it

“I’m Frank; it’s my incense” we can always rely on Tom for wordplay

“Then I put down the hammer” fucking plot twist, Luke, good god

“Cheryl is now…” “Knocked out.” Honestly, I thought they were going to go for ‘dead’, so it’s better than it could have been

“This is becoming a regular occurrence” Tom???

“Is this a robbery, Aaron? Are you robbing the company?” “Only if you force me to get the gun out of my pocket.” This show is gold

“You also have another gun, which is clearly in your belt” I really thought that we were going… somewhere else with that

I’m the tiniest bit sad we didn’t get two lesbians (but obviously I’m also very happy with the scene we got)

Honestly ‘in the round’ is a hilarious suggestion

“I don’t know how to cry. My childhood was bad.” Sam

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Wes Anderson film, but their impressions are always top tier

Luke desperately trying to get Sam to actually understand the Spanish and Sam just failing is amazing

“Get yourself... a drug problem” SAM

Is it a SFTH show if Sam doesn’t unbutton his shirt?

“Calm down” Sam is amazing

“I think I’m going to give Luke the most appropriate book that I've ever given him...” “I Want that Twink Obliterated” oh my god (also, like... I can’t believe that’s a real book) (I absolutely can)

“Pretty sure that's the title of one of our fanfictions” well I’m sure it’s going to be now (also I know they know about the fandom and fandom activities but it still kills me whenever they talk about it)

“Will you please stop trying to have a conversation?” I love that Luke and AJ are just messing up the way the game is meant to work

“Chapter fourteen.” “How did you know we're filing for bankruptcy?” Tom that was an amazing save

This was actually surprisingly wholesome considering the title of Luke's book

The five seconds of pure holding-back-laughter staring between Sam and AJ at ��egg’

Sam

“I’m going to fuck you up, sun” as a person whose chronic illness gets worse in heat, I don’t think Tom has ever said a more relatable thing

“Well, aren’t we standing in two bland positions” Tom is great

“Here we are. The two men in the world with the longest penises, touching tips.” Well that escalated quickly

I know snake eyes is a dice thing, but... Snakehips?

“Calm down” pt. 2; I love Sam (although I do hope it doesn’t actually bother him)

“If you kiss me now” being interrupted by a kiss is brilliant timing

Also AJ’s still wearing the bracelet ❤️

Fucking hell, Sam (him just grabbing Luke unprompted like that caught me so off guard)

“I’m putting this in a museum” Tom???????

“Now, am I saying ‘see it, say it, sort it’ or ‘see it, say it, sorted’?” “Well, based on that poster, I think it's ‘sorted’.” Look, as an American, I am grateful for the clarification (also hi, SNftHitW)

“The next station is Cockfosters.” “That's not on the Metropolitan Line.” I said in my last watchthrough that I love when AJ makes an unimportant mistake and Sam latches on to it, and I stand by that statement. (Also, they mention Cockfosters station a lot; is that a particularly popular stop, or do they just pick it because it has a memorable name?)

“Yes, well, he does make a lot of promises, doesn’t he?” Oooh, drama (and sass)

“Good evening and welcome to Chip Harrington. I’m Chip Harrington—” Is Chip Harrington related to André Beetroot? (Also I love Chip Harrington already)

I realise AJ stumbling over his words is probably an accident, but I feel like it’s important characterisation for Chip

Also is Chip Harrington grown-up Chip from the Cardboard Stegosaurus? (Seems unlikely, but it’s possible)

Luke causing trouble is the best

“Be very scared” wow, what a news reporter

I adore the way AJ just said ‘~metropolitan~’ (and Chip Harrington and André Beetroot are definitely related, because that was almost a Beetrootian accent slip)

Luke as a child does the most adorable, innocent little faces, and it kills me

“Oh, I needed to tell you something...” see now i really want to know what that was

Luke’s abduction technique is… interesting

“I’m going to copy your face” Luke???

“Just because I fucked your wife Cassandra—” plot twist! (“You didn’t know that.”)

“I was going to give you anaesthetic before I did this; now I’m not so sure” Sam taking his cues from the audience’s response and going “kinky” killed me

“I’ve always thought you were a handsome fellow” hello (god damn it, another niche ship to add to the collection)

“These noisy streets” I love Tom’s passive aggressive way of calling out the people talking at the back

“You always say ‘this is Chip Harrington, and I’m Chip Harrington’, but it’s actually called the news?” I love Tom’s character, and I don’t think we got a name for her, but she deserves one

“I’m Chip Harrington” look he may not have any idea how but he’s trying to help

“I thought you were going to say anal” Tom

Okay so Sam’s acting as Luke’s character pretending to be Sam’s character is incredible

Tom’s baffled/disgusted face as he tries to figure out where they are is everything

“I need to be outside at all times” I know this is meant to be a bit character, but I’m genuinely really intrigued by this storyline

I can’t be the only one who feels like Chip and the mum have a bit of chemistry…

AJ messing up his name after saying it a thousand times might be my new favourite thing

I know we talk a lot about AJ’s singing—as we should—but Sam is also really good

“It’s like that, but really much weirder” AJ is amazing

Chip Harrington is the best

This is chaos

Honestly Tom’s character is a great mum

“There’s a man out on my lawn who won’t shut the fuck up” I love Tom

I genuinely think the mum might be the most sane character we’ve ever gotten

“The audience will ~never know~” god damn it, I’ve been entrapped by another play

I love that the Underground Murderer didn’t actually kill anyone

Tom and Sam’s high-pitched-voice bit at the end is amazing

“We’ll never see some of you ever again. Hopefully that motherfucker.” Fuck. Yes. Sam!

I really hate that they had to deal with that heckler (but they did do an amazing job)

[ghouljams]

While rereading your Fae!AU, I realized that there’s no mention of Farah and Alex. If it’s not too bold of me to offer, how about they be another Fae x Human couple looking for a third. Alex, bless him, just rolls with Farah’s fae behavior, often even going all heart eyes at her. Farah, to her credit, adores how loyal and brave Alex is, how he courted her by hunting down a terrorist that fucked with her and hand delivered the man’s heart to her.

Don’t know what kind of reader would work as their third, but it’s just a thought.

That's entirely because neither Farah nor Alex live in the UK! Also in a small way it's because I don't know much about the folklore in Farah's part of the world. That's on my lack of research, but I didn't want to pay any creatures I might have come up with a disservice or fall into stereotypes when Farah is such a well-rounded, interesting, character. Alex though, that's just some white guy. (jk I love Alex Keller, hot mustache man with a great story line)

A fae/human couple would suit them incredibly well though. I like Farah as a fae, but I also would slot Alex in as a mythology expert. Not in the sense that he's any sort of academic, more in the sense of the CIA needing to employ (and deploy) people who know the mythology of the regions they're invading so they can properly handle them.

So Farah meets this guy who clocks her immediately but is also just... so excited to meet a fae from Urzikstan. And despite anticipating a million questions from Alex, she finds herself with just as many. What does he mean "a bullet'll do just as well as any spell?" What does he mean "those things that go behind the trees when you're not lookin'?" Why does every creature he describes sound like some horrible amalgamation? What do you mean there's an entire portion of the country that just ignores their local critters? Americans smh

Alex's questions are more in line with: what's a fae doing taking an interest in human affairs, and I thought fae didn't like guns? Which does inevitably lead to Alex hunting down a terrorist that he knows Farah had her eyes on as a courting gift.

And then idk they decide to live in a portion of summer that's like the perfect cloudy summer day so Farah's poor white boy doesn't get sunburnt. No clue what their reader situation would be. Tbh I think they're the perfect couple and have no notes. Big "I didn't 'get' Farah she picked me up by the scruff and carried me home" vibes.

[heartrender6]

most of the kuwei hate in this fandom is absolutely racially motivated and most of it is probably subconscious but i NEED to talk about this.

and not because i think people r thinking "i hate kuwei!! he's asian and i hate asians!!" tbh most anti asian racism on the internet goes way deeper than that.

basically, what i believe to be the most prominent type of racism against asians, especially on the internet, is stereotyping. specifically "uwu-ification." the east asian entertainment industry likes to paint asian people as cute, submissive and sweet because it markets disturbingly well to american audiences, and whether people mean to or not, they internalize it and it affects the way they think of asian people as a whole. This mostly happens to east and southeast asian women, but definitely a lot with men too, especially in more recent years with the whole yaoi culture thing (i fucking hated typing that) becoming more popular. simply put, it's fetishization.

so how does this relate to kuwei? well, when kuwei is introduced to us, and im not gonna dance around it— he is pretty stereotypically asian. he's shy, innocent, small, good at math/science and— you guessed it— no speaka engrish. leigh bardugo lays the perfect trap for fandom white girl weeaboos to gush over this guy. once i came across a modern au where kuwei's whole northern chinese-mongolian ass is a "shy japanese transfer student." i really wish i was making this up.

but then we find out that kuwei is actually a conniving little shit who is really quite terrible at science and spends all day making shitty drawings of his crush instead of doing math or wtv. The turning point where we are told this is the jesper kiss. This is the point where we find out kuwei is not the yaoi uwu baby we thought he was. and how does fuckin 2/3 of the fandom react?? hate. instant hate. If you search "i hate kuwei" on twitter there are tweets both defending and attacking him, but there is significantly more of the latter.

most of them claim to hate him for kissing jesper but like... jesper kissed him. He doesn't say anything because, in his own words, "we're all probably going to die anyway." does no one see how tragic that is?? he let his first (probably) kiss be taken by someone who he knew didn't even like him because he thought it would be the only one he'd ever get.

and yet the only thing people see is that he "got in the way" of wesper and he's evil. throughout the series kuwei is given no agency, and that's the point of his character. everyone on the planet treats him as a weapon or a bargaining chip. he gets tossed around like a rag doll and to white (or otherwise not asian) audiences, that makes him the perfect picture of a little asian cutie i almost vomited typing that holy shit. but the moments where he takes something for himself— insisting on going to ravka, kissing jesper back— that's what makes people hate him. and don't even get me started on the way people project their hatred onto the other crows, especially wylan. yall will act like wylan loathes kuwei with all his being. he doesn't!! wylan is not a hateful person and he always defends kuwei!! but nooo, kuwei sucks and he deserves it for daring to be a person instead of an idea.

and hey?? guess what?? kuwei was NEVER in the way of wesper. there was no love triangle. narratively speaking, there was never any threat that kuwei would end up with jesper instead of wylan. never ever. the kiss was literally only put there to create drama for wylan and jesper. we never even hear how kuwei feels about it. stop using that as an excuse to hate on kuwei when we can all see it's because you're subconsciously mad at an asian person not being nice.

also disliking kuwei does not automatically make you racist, im just saying a lot of hatred towards kuwei is rooted in racism.

tagging my fellow aapi moots (that i know of) because i wanna hear yalls thoughts on this! @hauntedacousticversiontv @dramaqueentruther

[punkeropercyjackson]

Pjo fans insist they don't see Percy Jackson as autistic but the proof is in the blue pudding in how they treat him that they know he's audhd and not allistic adhd

They make fun of him for his (special) interests because he's super into 'kiddy/silly' things and pretend he's into ones he's never even mentioned(The Little Mermaid,Nemo,etc)while ignoring his actual tastes,they call stupid 'affectionatelly' when he's expressed verbally AND in his narration so many times it's upsetting and that it's something he's resigned himself to eternally happening to him rather than growing to like it,they turn his younger loved ones into his 'babysitters' when HE'S the one constantly looking out for younger people on eldest sibling/pseudo-dad instinct,they treat his lack of social skills as a moral failing even though nobody ever fucking taught him how to mask so now he literally can't and the peer abuse,parental abuse,parental abandoment AND grooming into a child soldier for his entire teenage years did NOT help,they insist he's a stereotypically masculine cis man despite countless instances of misandry and discomfort in male roles and gender neutral at BEST gender presentation and several moments that heavily indicate he wants femininity and maybe even womanhood and they invalidate his autism as even a posibility with the excuse he has adhd,as if they aren't a super common combo platter and autistics/audhd people aren't misdiagnosed-on purpose at a number of not uncommon times!!!-as adhd is seen as more 'normal' than autism

Of course Perseo 'Percy' Isadore Jackson is autistic!!He's the personification of black audhd and the abuse and alienation that comes with it!He's also the paragon of how cool black audhd people are and our cycle breaking and reclamation of our traits we were forced to think means there's something 'wrong' with us but you whatever the greek equivalent to weaboo is geeks won't let him be cool,BECAUSE he's audhd and you think every autistic person is 'supposed' to 'accept' we're losers so you can't get uncomfy🥺 when confronted with the fact autism IS a spectrum,not as a joke but as a reality,but you don't wanna say that so you deny he's autistic to not feel bad even though what you're doing IS bad!!!!!Like objectively,Percy is a role model for neurodivergent kids to show them they're not what their tormenters say they are and that they can grow up to be the adults they needed to save them when we were younger when everyone just choose to hurt us!Percy is NOT allistic,he's the most autistic character of the entire american media 2000s-2010s era and if you insist he's not,just call him a r*tard instead.It would be less ableist than this embarrassing disaster you oldheads who harrassed a lil black girl,for existing as something other than a blonde unnatural eye colors white girl,have been pulling since what is going to be 20 years in not too long.What if i killed 'Pjo fandom elders' who want the gender ambigious autistic afropunk anarchist to sell out for their premordial booktok ships with hammers

[anthraxofeffervescence]

One of the most infuriating things about the popular culture's reaction to the suicide of David Foster Wallace is that people, his fans included, treat it like he was "just too smart". People willingly force him into this tortured artist stereotype, like his depression helped him do all this great writing, when that stereotype could not possibly be more what he was writing against.

Infinite Jest has one of the strongest examples of him speaking on this kind of attitude towards tortured artistry, but there are countless others. The quote goes:

Hal... theorizes privately that what passes for hip cynical transcendence of sentiment is really some kind of fear of being really human, since to be really human (at least as he conceptualizes it) is probably to be unavoidably sentimental and naive and goo-prone and generally pathetic, is to be in some basic interior way forever infantile, some sort of not-quite-right-looking infant dragging itself anaclitically around the map, with big wet eyes and froggy-soft skin, huge skull, gooey drool. One of the really American things about Hal, probably, is the way he despises what it is he's really lonely for: this hideous internal self, incontinent of sentiment and need, that pulses and writhes just under the hip empty mask, anhedonia.

This is the main crux of Infinite Jest (or, one of them. There's a lot going on). If we continue to worship "hip, cynical transcendence," we will die. Which is why it's beyond maddening that the suicide of David Foster Wallace is viewed as it is.

Anyone even broadly familiar with the timeline of David Foster Wallace's mental health issues in relation to his work will know that he did his best work after getting help. His best short stories and novels were written when he was medicated, taking care of himself, and trying to do better. He killed himself when he was off medication, and the reason he stopped taking it was because it had a bad reaction with some fucking food he ate. Medication, therapy, being less cynical, trying to connect with people more, these are all things that worked. Any work he did was in spite of his mental illness, not because of it.

And the worst part of all of this? His fans are complicit. I once made a post somewhere else online about how sad I was that he passed away, and the comments were full of people basically jerking off to his suicide, all but saying that he was "too good for this world", and on and on and on.

The Pale King is forever unfinished, and that is beyond heartbreaking. Suicidal depression is one of the most difficult things in the world, and if you're worried about dealing with it because you'll in some way lose something, you won't. What you will regain, however, are only the best parts of you.

I love you, you school-bus-sized fandom (as in if you got everyone in the tumblr DFW fandom together in a physical location, we would fit on a single school bus.)

Take care of yourselves. Love you guys.

[beesunshiny]

I quite literally a bit ago did this take on fanon James (for funsies, the Black brothers too) if he was Americanized. See here

I figured why not throw in Remus & Peter to complete the gang. I’m not going too deep into this (spoiler alert I got too deep into Remus), but I’ll explain a little bit since there’s not a lot of race/ethnic debate on these two.

Remus in my mind is most definitely Southern-Southern Central Appalachian coded. Idc where at in the areas you want to settle at, but it would be in that region. The reason I feel this way leans heavy into some of the wolfstar hc’s I’ve come across. For example: Remus is Welsh & has a thick accent which Sirius heavily fucks with.

That perfectly ties into why I’d pin him as Southern-Southern Central Appalachian. You can’t tell me that rebellious New Yorker nepo baby Sirius wouldn’t love a thick Appalachian accent…especially if you consider the overlap of Remus feeling outcasted & Sirius sticking close to him.

People having a hard time understanding him due to his accent & him suppressing it. Ask any southerner how it feels to be perceived by every other region in the USA. (As a southerner…we’re perceived as dumb/slow bc of our draw from the accent so we suppress it to integrate because otherwise people don’t take us seriously & impose harsh stereotypes onto us).

If I had to narrow it down to one state instead of a regional stretch of land…maybe Louisiana. Bro would definitely be in the Bayou region of Louisiana. They also tend to have really thick accents because of the Cajun English.

Peter I feel like would be from either Washington, Oregon, or maybe Colorado. He would be that white kid who grew up in a relatively expensive area that was suburban. Like yeah, he lives near a big city like Seattle, Portland, or Denver…but mainly stays out of the hustle & bustle of loud areas. Probably lives in a gated community, good school, high marks, parents are busy but invest in his future etc.

He’s socially awkward, and he doesn’t really have a strong social system, so I feel like he would maybe have one friend or tolerate disrespect from a small group of people because it’s better to have some friends than none.

Please remember this is just for funsies…I’m not saying the Marauders are American or should be Americanized, but if they were this is how I’d feel about where they are located regionally.

Hope you enjoyed!

[wellofdean]

So in my ongoing efforts to say nice things about Supernatural and, as @luckshiptoshore said yesterday, "reclaim this nice, gay show" together, and also probably because I listened to Bruce Springsteen earlier today while I was thinking: why is it that this particular love story has me like it does? Why can't I let this Destiel thing go? I mean... I watched all the recent queer love stories and as much as I enjoyed Good Omens and OFMD, they just don't take up real estate in my soul like Supernatural does -- and that's not a decision I made, it just is. I don't know about you guys, but my little rages choose me.

Anyway, I was thinking -- it's probably not just because of queer representation or whatever, and I don't think it's because I want to see dudes be tender -- I think I ran out of that form of interest in the life of dudes awhile ago, but yeah, Bruce Springsteen. Born to Run. He says "I want to know love is wild, I want to know love is real" and I felt like it pretty much hit the nail on the head for me, somehow.

It's been a long time since I have felt moved by a het romance story. I feel like I can no longer believe it when the roles are so pre-packaged in the tropes and trappings of what was sold to me as idealised love in my younger days. And, like, I am Gen X, so it was pretty gruesome out there when I was learning how to want love -- the power of compulsory heterosexuality was strong, and the shit that was sold to us all as ways to love and be loved were pretty gross, just watch any romantic comedy from the 80's or 90's.

I think I love Supernatural so much because of the way Dean plays the role of a standard issue dude, and postures like he is a stereotypical red-blooded American dude, but it's so transparent that it isn't him. I don't know if it's just Jensen things, or if it was consciously done, but I love how unconvincing Dean's act is, and how clear it is that he is a wounded child whose own real desires and needs have been beaten out of him somehow, and I just love the way the real Dean and what that guy wants slow rises out of him as the story goes on, until he's choking on it, and visibly swallowing it down. For me, the queerest thing about Dean is his pain, his aching loneliness, and his sense of failure at being what he thinks he is -- a violent man who only knows how to kill, and I love Dean's moments of clarity, moments when he speaks from his own soul -- when he tells Cas he's sorry, tells John he has a family, tells Chuck "that's not who I am" are just everything to me.

Both Dean and Cas are victims of conditioning and coersion -- Dean trying to be his Daddy's perfect son, and being manipulated by Chuck, and Cas horribly violated and brainwashed repeatedly for millennia in heaven -- and they love each other in defiance of conditioning, because love is wild, and it's the product of their freedom.

I feel like ALL actual love eschews force and arises out of freedom. All real love is specific and weird, and is co-created in the space between lovers from what is most real in them and in that sense, all real love is queer in some way in that it is not part of the big social project of subjugating what doesn't comply. I feel like a lot of people lead lives of mindless compliance and that a thing that's wonderful about queer people and queer community is that we work against the grain to honor what is truest in us, whatever that is.

I guess I just love that, on Supernatural, the kind of love that saves the day is the kind that grows wild, like a weed you can't kill, out of more than a decade of choosing each other, again and again, and choosing to fight coercion and conditioning. Love that just fucking refuses to comply, and in fact, cannot comply, because non-compliance is it's very nature. There's something so hopeful and beautiful about that to me. I want to believe in it, and I do.

It's also why, after ALL THIS, in the context of that narrative, Dean is incontrovertibly queered, and anything else is just straight up narrative malpractice.

[realbeefman]

i think about this scene constantly. this is probably the only time they’ve both been totally genuine and honest with each other ever. and they still don’t understand each other.

charlie has always loved the idea of her more than her. arguably their most romantic moment before this occurs in jersey shore, when she’s very literally not herself.

to the waitress, charlie isn’t just saying “i love you.” he’s said that he loves her thousands of times before. to her it’s deeper than that. to her he’s saying, “i love you (for the person that you are. i know your flaws and i love you in spite of them. i always will, no matter what you do, no matter how badly you fuck up)” and to a person as chronically lonely as the waitress is, who has been rejected and humiliated by her lovers time and time again, that’s everything she needs to hear.

and of course, on some level, this is what charlie thinks he means as well. but his “i love you” carries no more weight than the other thousands of times he’s said it to her. in saves the day, charlie’s ideal world is a satirized version of the stereotypical nuclear family, because charlie genuinely believes that that’s the life he wants.

like most of the gang, charlie’s adherence to social roles and expectations are inconsistent, even as he professes to believe strongly in their value. he is a proud american when it suits him, he is willing to be a father when it benefits him, and he is interested in the waitress only when it suits him to be interested in her. the waitress isn’t anybody special; she’s an attractive woman that charlie has decided is the epitome of everything he should be.

this is why jersey shore is the peak of their romantic relationship. because ultimately, while charlie is willing to and, at times, actively wants to love her, the unfortunate fact of the matter is that he doesn’t even like her.

he puts vitamins in her shampoo. he gets her fired from jobs he doesn’t like, and protects her on jobs he approves of (most blatant example of this is when he barks at a passing stranger who might steal her bike when she’s delivering indian food vs literally trying to have her stabbed at the fair). he is constantly trying to make her into somebody he likes being around.

to charlie, this “i love you” is just a statement of fact. loving her is something he should do, so he does. it’s yet another frivolous idea that has passed through his imagination, of no more real significance to charlie’s core identity than being a patriot is. to the waitress, this “i love you” is the only one that has ever mattered, to her, this is a breakthrough moment in which she finally, finally understands and connects with this man who has been stalking her for more than a decade.

it makes it hit all the harder when she realizes, when all is said and done, that she still doesn’t understand him at all.

[storkmuffin]

Hi again! I’m the anon that asked if you could elaborate about the Jongho statement. Thanks for taking the time to explain! In addition to your bullet point about how Seonghwa doesn’t mind the term ‘wife’, have you seen how he’s openly accepting of being called ‘mom’ or ‘mommy’? I really love how Seonghwa doesn’t fall into the stereotypical traits of masculinity. I find his mentality of just doing him like wearing whatever he wants now to be one of the many reasons I love him! Do you think he would ever come out or make an announcement about being queer? This is totally getting into just my own personal thoughts but I get mixed feelings with Seonghwa where I think he is queer or if he’s just more in tune with his feminine side. What do you think?

OK so this is where being a Korean person in Korea who is fluent in English and well versed in American pop culture (up to a point) hits a limit. I actually don't understand what you guys are doing when you do the whole 'mommy' and 'mother' thing. The cultural position of Mother in Korea is completely asexual , and self-abnegating in the Giving Tree style - she is the one who sacrifices, who care-takes, who suffers in silence, is all accepting and never critical. (Personally this is why I think so many of us Korean women are refusing to become mothers, bc this role fucking sucks as defined.)

But when you guys say Mother - it means something else, doesn't it? So if Seonghwa is happy to hear it, maybe he understands what you're getting at?

In any case, I think he's actually queer and that's why he is willing to show himself in touch with his feminine side. You can have a gentle and soft persona off-stage, and many many many Korean boy idols absolutely cultivate exactly that image, without going over into being actually as feminine or queer as Seonghwa has done.

Moreover, to be super cynical about this, it's a pretty clever marketing strategy for someone who wants to have a long term show business career when his home base is Korean women. Because Korean culture is so confrontational, energetic and competitive, us tired modern women are desperate for the relaxing, the harmless, the soft, and the gentle in men. Being able to present yourself as the super-handsome, wild-on-stage man who, off-stage, in a fantasy version of 'real life,' is at heart a fastidious, soft-spoken good girl just like you? ABSOLUTE CATNIP. Also, so smart! It helps him differentiate himself from the rest of his group too, who tend to stay within established masculine roles. Wooyoung dancing in a skirt or Yeosang being very pretty isn't the same as being feminine, to me.

This isn't what you asked, but I will also add: Seonghwa puts on the 'soft spoken' voice which isn't his actual speaking voice. Wooyoung, who is irrepressible and competitive, has expertly imitated the 'muted' voice effect that Seonghwa does when speaking to Atiny in one of their behind the scenes things right after Seonghwa said something, asking' Why can't you just talk using your normal voice?' for example. Wooyoung exposed him on the spot like that, because he knows it's very seductive to Korean women lol.

OH and - you actually asked this - do I think he'll ever come out? And actually announce like, hi, I'm gay/bi/pan and this is my boyfriend? I mean, it doesn't seem likely, but if you know anything about Korea, you'll know that when we experience a shift, the shift is abrupt, fast and complete. So I wouldn't rule it out, but I will say - I feel myself to be living in very mainstream Korean middle class society, and I work for a very big corporation, I live in Seoul, and I don't know a single out person from work, school, social network, or church in my real life. It's a chicken and egg thing, but I do think that until more ordinary, every day queer people can come out, and like date in public like straights do, people who need to stay on the right side of public opinion, like idols and actors, wouldn't be ok coming out until the 'main' time of their career is over.