#and southern sayings are very very funky

[dailymothanon]

Some southern sayings just don't make much sense 🤨 ik well that Alaska ain't getting it any better than anyone else, this boy is a lost cause... someone (Maine) please save him please 🙏 "Well butter my butt and call me a bisuit!" okay but why 🤔 you're confusing him Texas. Explain yourself.

[cupiidzbow]

AUGHHHHHH IM GONNA SOUND SO LAME FOR THIS . going down the list and thinking what silly lil nicknames they’d give me ……….

[cleoselene]

here I am, trying to get people to care about a Senate race that is only 4 points apart at the moment but the national media refuses to act like it's competitive

look, I am under NO illusions about what Florida is. I am not here to tell you it's full of the best most well-meaning people who by-golly-goshdarn-shucks have the misfortune of living under Republicans, because that picture of the South is pretty rosy for reals. It's gotten more deeply Southern culturally in the last two decades especially. The Florida of my teen years when Lawton Chiles was governor feels like a very distant memory.

But look: Debbie Mucarsel-Powell is a GREAT candidate. You know how Tim Walz is being praised for representing a quintessential midwesterner? Mucarsel-Powell is a quintessential Floridian, in that she's an immigrant and a Latina and she's very smart and accomplished. That is the best of Florida that so rarely gets represented, or gets twisted in representation to ghouls like Marco Rubio and Ted Cruz whose families are Cuban conservative. Rick Scott is one of the most unpopular members of the Senate.

Ron Desantis has gone too far in this state, warping our education, our human rights, our very freedom of speech, and he's done NOTHING to fix runaway housing and home insurance costs in a state that is acutely aware of climate change.

Abortion is on the ballot. So is legal weed. I am by no means saying I think Harris will carry the state, but there's SO MUCH that is really important on the ballot for me beyond that AND including it. But it's one of those funky years where turnout for the good guys will probably be higher because of the ballot initiatives and there's a lot of angry moderates in this state pissed about what Desantis did to education. So. Please consider sharing and spreading the word that there's a really important and more to the point: COMPETITIVE senate race in Florida. But if we ignore it, neglect it, don't spread the buzz and don't donate, then Florida just becomes another self-fulfilling prophecy.

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Abs Sans Brain

Top Gun: Maverick - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x f!pilotreader [no use of y/n]

2.6k || Your date with Jake at the Hard Deck is crashed by the rest of the squad.

==== Genre: Fluffy, flirty, and funky

CW: Swearing, drinking

Author’s Note: I’m writing this before I start writing the fic itself. I’m shooting for 600 - 800 words. Please laugh at me when we see how wrong I end up being. Oh, and the reader is best friends with Bob because I said so. || cross-posted on ao3

===

===

There were very few things you had asked for in life. Good health, good people, and the entire sky at your disposal. A small list, if a bit demanding. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d asked for the Heavens was all those who came with it. In particular, Jake Seresin, who slid into the booth across from you. Beers in hand, grin in place.

“Come here often, doll?”

You roll your eyes at him. A movement that does little to hide the smile blooming across your lips. “I can’t believe I ever let that line work on me.”

“In your defense,” he said, taking a long swig of his beer. “The first time I used that line, we were thousands of feet in the sky. It’s where I’m at my most irresistible.”

“Ah, yes. That must have been it. Everywhere else you’re just insufferable.” You laughed and took a significantly smaller sip of your beer. It’s your second one in ten minutes. “If I didn’t know you any better, Seresin, I’d say you’re trying to get me drunk here.”

“Tryin’?” he scoffed, “and you say you know me.”

The unfortunate thing about this whole situation was that you did know Jake. You knew him well, better than Coyote. You knew his favorite color was yellow. That’s why it had been put in his helmet. (He’d also left off the ‘a’ in his helmet because the idea of filling it in to say ‘Hungman’ fit his sixth grade sense of humor). You knew he over-exaggerated his southern drawl whenever you walked into a room because you’d once drunkenly admitted to him that hearing him talk flooded your mind with dirty thoughts. You knew Jake’s mind was fifty percent dirty thoughts, twenty-five percent sky, twenty percent you, five percent ways to school you at cards and five percent cheeky comebacks he was sitting on to annoy the rest of the squad with. And, most disheartening of all, you knew Jake was not a romantic.

It didn’t bother him that date night was a few beers, fried food, and a game of pool. It didn’t bother you either. Not entirely, but you were hoping for one night where you could dress up nice and go out somewhere fancy. Somewhere along the lines of joining the military and ending up at TOPGUN the line of being feminine had been blurred. Commanders couldn’t understand why you’d want to put on a bit of mascara to fly a plane. In the same stretch of imagination, Hangman seemingly couldn’t put it together that you’d like a bit of romance in your life beyond the cheesy pickup lines and pet names.

If you could add anything to your list of ‘good health, good people, and the entire sky’ it would be a few nice dates. You’d say nothing fancy, but you wouldn’t mean it. You wanted fancy. Even if it was just to realize that fancy is actually not what you wanted at all. Something to change up the pace of playing pool with Jake and being hit on by him like you were his latest conquest and not his girlfriend of six months.

Part of you felt like you were being slightly unfair.

“Your turn, doll,” Jake said, but when you went to pass in front of him he grabbed you by your belt loop. He pulled you back towards him, matching your laugh, and captured your lips with his.

Moments like these almost had you convinced that maybe you could push those selfish date ideas off to the side. Jake liked showing off. He liked being able to flirt with you in a place where you could laugh loudly and no one would look at you weird. He liked being able to slip out the back door to walk down the beach with you under the stars.

“If it’s my turn,” you said between kisses, “then let me shoot the ball.”

Reluctantly, he let go of your waist and you positioned yourself to sink yet another ball into the pocket. You planned to kick his ass in an embarrassingly short amount of time to get the pettiness out of your system, then enjoy your night together.

Except for the fact that the front bell chimed, and familiar shouts filled the bar. Familiar because you’d heard them less than an hour ago. You considered altering your list once more. ‘Good people who knew when not to come get a drink.’

“Hangman!” Payback shouted across the bar. “Rack ‘em up. Rooster was just telling me how the two of you ended in a tie game last week.”

Jake’s laughter filled your ears. He still had a hand on the small of your back, but his attention was entirely on your group of friends trailing through the door. “Chicken doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. I smoked his ass.”

“I’d like to see you put your money where your mouth is, Seresin. Unless you’re still broke from the last time I kicked your ass.”

Rooster headed over to the pool table followed closely by Fanboy and Coyote. Payback, scribbling in a notebook, hung back for a moment. Then opened his mouth to edge the tension on a bit more. You knew your date night had been pushed aside, so you took it upon yourself to step off to the side yourself.

Phoenix smiled at you, waving, and tilted her head. “I thought you guys were on a date?” She asked. You shot her a look that said ‘We’ll talk later.’ Natasha let out a laugh. “Sorry. Look, I’ll get you something strong to drink.”

“Make it a double!” You called out after her as she made her way over to the bar where she’d be trapped by millions of questions from Penny. The sound of your name, your government name, being called by a certain southern drawl caught your attention. “Yes, love?” You asked, hoping that your boyfriend was about to make an unexpected promise that the two of you could leave after one game.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?” Jake nudged you softly with his shoulder then threw his head over in Bradley’s direction. “We can always just ask the peanut squad to leave. The small man will only get so much smaller when I whoop his ass for the hundredth time”

Rooster stiffens, almost to attention. He holds the pool cue next to him. Straight and tall. “I’m taller than you are, Bagman.”

It had become a trend of sorts to refer to Jake with various insults that fell so effortlessly from Bob’s mouth. You had tried your hardest to resist, out of solidarity for your boyfriend, some of the nicknames were too creative to avoid… and it gave you an excuse to make Jake try and draw his true name from your lips.

“I wasn’t referring to that kind of height, Chick.”

“C’mon, Jake,” you whine, “can you please just be the polite Jake I know you to be?”

“Oxymoron!” Rooster calls from across the pool table to which Jake whirls around and says, “What the fuck did you just call me?”

You shoot a glare in Bradley’s direction. “Seriously?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Payback pulling that same little notebook out of his pocket to make a mark. You turn on him. “And what the hell are you doing?”

He turns the page towards you. On it in crude, unintelligible handwriting is what you can only assume to be two columns labeled “Hangman” and “Rooster” with a series of ticks beneath them. Jake in the lead by a long shot. “I like to keep track.”

In the corner, you noticed when you squinted to read the handwriting, was a third little box. Completely full of ticks. “Who is that?”

“Bob,” Payback said at the same time Bob said, “Mine.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to Jake. “Can I talk to you?”

Your tone is enough to etch worry on his face. He set his pool cue against the table, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you off to the side. “What’s wrong, doll?”

“This isn’t a date.” The whiny lit to your voice didn’t make you feel the most sexy, but you’d tried seducing Jake to go to a movie so the two of you could make out in the dark instead and that hadn’t worked. Pouting was your last resort. “Every time we go on a date, they show up. They’re like fleas!”

“At least fleas can do tricks.” Jake turned to look over his shoulder. “Rooster can’t even hit a ball straight.”

“Jake, I’m being serious. Why won’t you just take me on a date? A real one.”

“Look, pretty girl, I’ll make a deal with you.”

You side-eyed him, unconvinced, and sighed. “Lucky me.”

“Play me in darts. I win, we stay and hang out with everyone. Lord knows Rooster and Phoenix need to be humbled in pool. Plus, you’re the only one here who can get Bob to do enough shots to start doing karaoke.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I know how much you love his drunk renditions of ‘Sweet Caroline.’”

Jake had a point. There had been one night - shockingly, another date night at the Hard Deck turned into a group activity - where you went to sulk in a booth while your schmooze of a boyfriend fueled his bromance with Coyote, Rooster, and Payback. Bob, still not the biggest partier, had grown tired of the swapping insults over darts and was worn out from dodging Phoenix and Fanboy’s attempts to get him to dance with them. So he’d ended up in the booth across from you.

You’d been pounding back shots of tequila like they were water. “He’s stupid,” you had slurred to Bob, “but you’re not stupid. You’re fun. Here, do a shot with me. Let’s be fun.”

He would tell you the next day that he had only intended to do one shot but one turned into two which turned into four which turned into Bob unplugging the jukebox to sing a melody of songs from your Grandma’s playlist with impressive range. After each one he would make sure to point you out of the gathering crowd of dazzled patrons. “This one’s for her!” He’d shout in dedication and start up singing again.

It hadn’t been a bad night then, and, even though you’d never admit it to Jake, you had a lot of fun. Tonight would be the same if you could let yourself stop moping long enough to enjoy it. But there was still the matter of:

“What if I win?” You ask. Competition was the reason you were here on the West Coast to begin with. You were the best of the best because you refused to let anyone else get the upper hand on you. “What do I get then, Seresin?”

“If you win,” Jake said, slowly kneading your hips with his hands. “I will take you out on another date - a fancy one. With roses and the opening of doors and the biggest bottle of wine this nice restaurant downtown has to offer. I’ll dress up and give you the most romantic night of your life. But tonight we’ll stay here and do everything we’d do anyway if I had win.”

“If I win.”

“If you win… but you won’t.”

He didn’t have to say it for you to know it was true. He threw darts the same way he flew planes: with deadly precision. There was a reason Hangman was the only one out of everyone in their generation with two confirmed kills. He could land a shot with his eyes closed. In the air and with two feet planted firmly on the hardwood floors of the Hard Deck.

“That’s not fair at all.”

“I don’t make the rules, sweet thing.” That stupid smirk was back on his face. The two of you hadn’t made it back to your booth yet for appetizers, otherwise there’d surely be a toothpick rolling between those lips of his too.  “C’mon, we’ll make it easy. Three darts each. Most points win.”

“That’s not how you play darts, Jake. Even I know that.”

“Bagman,” Payback called out, “what are you doing, the balls are racked?”

You went to grab the darts from the board as Jake said, “Kicking my girl’s ass in darts as a warm up for kicking your sorry asses in every game after.”

“Ladies first,” you gestured, mimicking his smug smirk. He glared playfully at you but stepped up to throw the first dart in a movement almost too quick for you to see. A perfect bullseye. “Show off.”

“Got to put some skin in the game.” Jake moved you in front of him. His hands gripping your waist to hold you in place as he pressed kisses to your neck. “I like your skin better, darlin’.”

You shooed him away. The dart felt heavy in your hand. Screwing this up would essentially be throwing away your only sure shot at the date of your dreams. You lifted your arm and threw the dart. It flew, fitting itself snugly into the single bull.

Jake’s turn. He moved just as quickly as the first time, but the angle he shot at landed the dart in a single scoring 18. Winning was still well within your grasp. A decent date was inching closer and closer.

Your turn. A deep steady breath. This dart felt weightless. An extension of yourself. You throw the dart in a less fluid motion than Jake, but manage to stick it in the bullseye right next to his.

“Look at that!” You shouted, pointing and jumping. Joy overwhelmed you not just because you were currently winning, but because this had been the first bullseye you’d made without Jake helping you in the slightest. He’d likely still claim this victory as his. It was his silly deal that made you so determined in the first place.

Jake’s final turn. He still had the chance to put you in the dust. Your eyes were glued to the board, but the dart never came. When you turned to look at him, Jake threw the dart at the ground. “You win,” he said, but you shook your head. Eyes back to the board. You won even without throwing this last dart.

You snapped your head in his direction, ready to call him out for cheating, but you were cut off by Jake’s lips crashing onto yours. He pulled away quickly, muttered a small, “You really think I’d deny you anything, doll?” then rushed off to join the restless group at the pool table. Leaving you to glance from the stray dart stuck in the floor and the man you were beginning to fall for at the pool table.

Phoenix saddled up next to you, drink in hand, and passed one over to you. “What did he promise you if you won?”

“A real date.”

“The fancy one with all that inspiration you’ve been sending me on Pintrest.”

“That’s the one.”

She let out a low whistle. “Wow, and I thought he loved you just by the way he looked at you, but this is something else. He’s smitten.”

“I guess I have that effect on some people,” you said and hid your giddy grin with a sip of your drink. “Did you ask Penny to get the tequila shots ready?”

“The real question is if we’re ready to hear Bob signing.”

This might just be one of your favorite dates yet.

===

oneshot taglist: 

@rosiahills22 @pono-pura-vida @gizmodear​

[bebx]

One of the things I love about Lokius is that, if you're someone like Thor and you're introduced to Mobius, and you had to appraise this funky lil dude in 10 seconds, you know the immediate, visceral reaction is: HIM?! This folksy guy with the ugly brown suit, haircomb mustache, corny dad jokes, average height, and middle-aged tummy? This guy?!

Because if you've only ever known up to Phase 3 Loki, it's not unreasonable to think he'd go for someone up to his "standards"; someone sexy, alluring, powerful, fashionable, and a little bit dramatic. Heck, that's what present Loki expected, too.

But no, it turns out it's very much THIS GUY, with the slight southern twang, no mystical powers whatsoever--not even basic super strength--and a love for snacks. THIS GUY who has a general calmness about him and whose epitome of joy is jet skis. THIS GUY who manages to find a little bit of purpose in bureaucratic paperwork.

It's objectively hilarious and, from a trope perspective, very sweet. Because a healthy, healing individual would see past the superficial and fall for the heart. All those quirks? Endearing. But what matters most is this person believed in you from the start, when you were at your worst and lowest. The wrinkles? Memories of all those times he laughed, smiled, or worried for you. The white hair? Very stately. Gorgeous, like a silver fox. But maybe Mobius is more of a coyote. With that silly knee-slapping laugh and wily mind. The soft tummy? A reminder of every time you had a heart to heart at the cafeteria or "detoured for refreshments" during a mission. So huggable. So perfect.

And past Loki would be appalled. He'd call it pathetic. This puny mortal? Oh, how low you've fallen ... A disgrace!

Present Loki would be so /offended/ by his own arrogance. By his own blindness!

"Yes," he'd say, chin up, eyes firm. "HIM."

this reminds me of this fic I wrote here where Mobius meets Thor and the rest of the Avengers as Loki’s special someone and they’re all shocked because Loki???? The Loki????? with This Guy????????!!!. I mean not to shamelessly promote my own fic or anything but Loki, a god, ending up with Mobius, a little guy, is the concept that is so precious to me I had to write a fic about it.

and yes, Mobius being just a Little Guy is what makes him so special as a character. we have all these superheroes Marvel introduced us to and then you have Mobius. and somehow he still manages to be such a popular fan’s favorite and also I think Mobius just being who he is is what draws — mind you, not just Loki but also so many fans towards to him. like everything you’ve described about him here is actually what makes me a fan of him. so really, we can’t blame Loki for falling head over heels in love with him here.

Thor’s reaction to meeting this boyfriend of Loki would be so hilariously precious too. but also, I believe it wouldn’t take long at all for Thor to grow overprotective of Mobius because Mobius is a good man with a heart of gold and most importantly, Mobius makes Thor’s brother happy. and Thor will do anything to make sure no one looks at Mobius the wrong way.

[siriuslysirius05]

Not His Son

Look, Tom knew that Bradley —Rooster, these days— wasn’t his son. Hell, he wasn’t even Maverick’s, a fact Bradley made very, very clear when he left that night. Ice remembers it like it was yesterday; Bradley had received a letter from USNA telling him that his application was, for whatever reason, pulled successfully. He’d approached Maverick with the subject, quickly blowing up at his godfather/adopted father once the truth was revealed. Pete Mitchell had pulled Bradley Bradshaw’s Naval Academy application. He left in a fury, shouting awful things that Tom knew Maverick dreamed about every night.

“You aren’t my dad. You never were. I hate you. I wish you died instead!”

Tom also thought of those words often. They were sharp thorns in his heart, haunted his every breath. Bradley was right, they weren’t his parents. And while they might have raised him, Iceman and Maverick were nothing but a heavy, burdened memory Bradley despised.

That didn’t mean they stopped caring. Especially now that Ice was a three star admiral, and Bradley was a full-fledged naval aviator. Hell, he was attending TOPGUN (at Ice’s secret referral). He was a grown man, an independent and strong man. He didn’t need Maverick, he didn’t need Iceman.

It didn’t stop Ice from keeping an eye on him, though. With his admiral status, Ice had the files of every single naval flight officer at his fingertips. Most of the time, Tom used the files to recommend squadrons and put together missions, but…

He still worried about the kid.

In actuality, it wasn’t all that often that Tom checked on Bradley. Every few months, and he usually didn’t tell Maverick the updates with the knowledge that his husband —they’d gotten married without Bradley there, but they did send an invite that went unanswered— would be hurt knowing Bradley was doing well without him. And that wasn’t narcissism or anything on Pete’s part; Bradley was, in all ways but blood, Pete’s kid. He always would be, even if the only surviving Bradshaw never spoke with him again.

It was Bradley’s second week at TOPGUN, and he was doing well. Top of his class, in fact. It brought both joy and a strange feeling to Ice’s chest.

He’d passed Bradley in the hallways of the air base several times in the past weeks, and every time he gave the man a warm smile. One of the other admirals on base, a two star by the callsign of Cyclone, teased him about the sudden appearance and disappearance of warmth on his face every time he was in the same general area as his kid.

Not his kid.

Today was a particularly bad day for Tom. His husband was stationed overseas and had been for the last month and a half, and Ice was missing him dearly. Plus, Ice had nightmares about Hop31 (better known as ‘the accident’ around Maverick, who flinched anytime ‘hop’ and ‘31’ were in the same sentence) and Goose’s death the night before.

Seeing Bradley strutting through base, a funky-pattern Hawaiian shirt on and wearing a pair of aviators, his 70s-pornstache perfectly groomed, was just salt in the wound. His (not) son was a spitting image of Nick Bradshaw, identical even in the walk. Goose always loved to strut and peacock about, showing off whatever shirt he had on.

Tom had tried to approach Bradley, just to say something. Hi. I miss you. Pete misses you. Anything, just to hear the young man’s voice. Would he sound like Goose? Bradley was raised in California, so he didn’t have the southern twang that Goose had, but maybe…

Bradley glared at Ice when he got near, turning and walking away. His friends, who Ice recognized as Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace and Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch, looked confused as they snapped to attention. Tom sighed, smiling sadly at the kids before turning to walk the other direction.

Later that day, Ice was watching the skies. His mind overlayed memories of Hop31, how *well* it was going, with the planes flying overhead. He knew who was up there right now. He knew that the F/A-18 that just barreled through the sky was none other than Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw. Pride and guilt filled his chest, and he was suddenly overcome with emotion. Emotion he didn’t deserve to feel, because Bradley was not his son.

He turned away from the window, eyes wet.

((Story based on the short sketchy drawing I did in an hour or so…the uniform is probably very inaccurate just bear with me please))

[rrat-king]

rotating southern jawbone in my brain and i would love to hear any of your headcanons about him if you're willing to share 👀

oh i am so, so very willing i love him so so much.

ok so like you said i strongly hc him as southern (this... could be cannon but brennans voice fluctuates enough for him enough that it could go either way) and by my map of accents that makes him from good 'ol highcourt originally

he was raised religious! his family heavily followed sol and so he skipped town pretty much as soon as he figured out who he was, which was queerer than the day is long (he's also trans. which way? every way. there is no wrong answer)

how he got turned is a great mystery. not because he won't say, but because he has told a million different stories and they all contradict each other. only thing that they all have in common is he got bit in the face, per his name: jawbone

he prides himself in having lived in quite literally every place in spyre. he knows someone from everywhere. he knows a few words of most languages and a million different dialects like if you tell him you're from some bumfuck town in the baronies he'll tell you he's been there and he knows ur granma, too

worked at the black pit mostly cuz it was the only place that would hire him as a werewolf who didn't hide who he was (i don't know if this is confirmed cannon but the black pit is a 'monster bar' in my interpretation of it)

working at the pit is actually how he wound up with tracker. it started as a game of her managing to sneak in every so often, always finding new ways to get past him, until he realizes just how young she really is and that the reason she is there every night is cuz she got kicked out. he offers her his spare bedroom and they've been family ever since.

i have. more. but this already quite a bit so. will probably make a part two focused more on his life post meeting the bad kids but :))) i love that funky werewolf

[reinadelvudu]

It’s nice to see a fan of Gambit who can speak facts on the relationship and poor writing with Romy. I love Gambit but since his solo’s he’s very meh. Rogue, I prefer her with Magneto. It was healthy and they were equals unlike how she treats Gambit throughout comic history. At some points it’s like she doesn’t even like him let alone love him but the writers enjoy her being this big bad boss girl wen actually she’s very jaded and vicious to Gambit. Them both being hot and southern doesn’t mean they fit because they don’t.

Gambit needs someone who actually likes him as himself and lets him be himself. She has him on a choke chain and it’s bleugh! Let him go. It makes me sad to see what he’s become in comic and it’s bleeding into the tv series, he has no self respect at this point. No one would stay with someone who has done nothing but push them away and be jealous and spiteful to them for so long not to mention all the things she’s done to him in canon between Antarctica, her taking Raven’s side when she tried to seduce him as a Foxx and basically made him out to be a p*do and the time she put in a report for the Avengers about not trusting him.

It makes her look jaded and borderline manipulative throughout Romy, it’s opened my third eye and kinda makes me resent her when she’s with him. The difference between her attitude to Gambit and her attitude in a relationship with Magneto or even Deadpool or that one time with Johnny Storm shows she only clings to Gambit because it’s familiar. They’re no good for each other and after all this time I don’t even think they could be friends which is really sad. They could have been great friends and badass wing men for one another. Not to mention the whole Irene thing? Omg that was so gross. She didn’t even know him and hated on him because of Raven. I LOVE Irene and Raven, love them together but the trauma Gambit went through over the years at the hands of Raven. No way he could look at Rogue and not feel sick, I would.

Rogue is a better character when she’s not involved with anyone at all especially a love triangle. Marriage doesn’t suit her in my opinion, I feel like all the times she’s been more focused on saving the world and being an X-woman shows her growth beyond the fear of never being able to touch and “love” someone. You can be loved and have love outside of relationships and sex. Personally I’d love to see her as an asexual. Her struggle as a young pretty woman who should have men fawning at her and does have that, her trying to fit into the normal box would mean a lot more if it turned out actually, she didn’t want it at all. She’s happy having platonic love even after she gets control of her powers would have been a powerful metaphor. She stated in the Krakoa era she didn’t want children so why not give her an arc where she’s living her best life without a man. After all these years it would be a good to see her as herself for once.

Romy has been drawn out too long to a point it’s spoiled both characters for a lot of genuine fans and not the people who know nothing of the history yet have the most to say. Like ship who you ship but let real dedicated fans have the last word on things that decide what happens in canon. I’m so meh about Romy when I used to adore them. It’s time for a change and I’m glad the Savage Lands it’s getting a second shot, now give Gambit his second shot. Give him his solo or another relationship with someone who actually likes him. Who doesn’t try to put his personality and vices in a box at the back of the closet. Rogue has made him pathetic and that’s sad because he was such a funky guy before her. Marriage should have made him flourish, instead it’s taken all his good points and made him the class clown. Why doesn’t he smoke anymore? Why doesn’t he play poker? Why doesn’t he have a life outside of his wife but she can do what she wants when she wants.

Gambit has a whole history and life away from the X-men and Rogue that’s been swept under the rug to showcase Rogue. He has a loving family in New Orleans yet the new Uncanny X-men hasn’t shown them once despite them literally being on the doorstep. It’s a bad look when they’re doing a comic about Gambit going to Raven and Irene’s wedding after all the abuse he’s suffered from them yet Rogue has no interest in his family, people who genuinely love Gambit. It’s giving Isolation. It’s giving he’s in a bad relationship and his friends and family are being ostracised. It’s giving Rogue is kinda sorta abusive to him (sorry not sorry). At this point I’m gonna go ahead and say Gambit’s family have a whole ass ban on Rogue being in their house. That would make sense. Even when he was exiled and would be killed going back to New Orleans he still made time for his family. His dad and Mattie Baptiste should be recognised as big time characters in his life. I think his brother is dead??? But he has a sister-in-law who Rogue accused of being one of his “women” in a a comic o can’t remember which one and she corrected her asap. I wish we got more of Gambit’s life outside of being Rogue’s accessory.

Romy shippers made me bitter about Romy. I think we all need a break from it, the characters have been almost damaged beyond repair while they’re shipped together. Solo comics and an end to a ship that never really worked would do them both good. 2025 should be anti Romy era. Give the characters some life again.

Ohhh God, I read you and…. how hard it is to be a Romy fan! So hard! I don't like rogueneto at all. Apart from the age, they have many important differences, and I find them very boring together. They don't have any sparkle at all. It's undeniable that if you put on the scale all the good and all the bad that Rogue has done for Gambit (intentionally or not), it will lean towards the bad. And it's undeniable that with Remy it's the opposite. He has done much, too much, for her. It's always thanks to him that the relationship keeps going and that makes my blood boil because it doesn't have to be that way, it's not fair, it's not right. In spite of everything, in spite of me, I will never be anti Romy. I think they are good together, as teammates, friends and as a couple. They have many things in common, a chemistry impossible to ignore, but above all they have that special ''something'' that, for better and for worse, makes them work.

[heartilywrites]

hi! I wanna say I really love your works!!!

I have a korra x reader childhood friends to lovers idea where korra and reader are really really really close friends and they're constantly very touchy with each other where they're kinda in a 'what are we?' relationship

،، 𝓛ove me back ; Korra

request guide | masterlist

resume: just a couple of really close best friends, right?

content warning: fluff ; if you squint, theres angst ; Korra x fem!reader ; r is from the Southern Water Tribe, but no bending status mentioned ; eye color description ; open ending,,, i think- ; no use of y/n

wc: 2.3k

a/n: oh youre going to hate me so much, but listen: i wanted to establish the relationship in this part, but suddenly good luck babe started to play and my brain went ~funky~ if we have luck i can make a part 2— THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING AND FOR LIKING MY WORK, DARLING, ENJOY :D

“ You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth.

Warm hands were felt looking for rest on your waist before they started to guide you to seat. “That's better!” Korra's voice sounded at your back, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder and now hugging you completely while resting her chin on your shoulder.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “What were we talking about, again?” you asked, your back started to rest against her chest and both hands on top of the avatar's arms.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “We were talking about what should we do this weekend.” she reminded again, you nodded.

Under the light given by the full moon that night, Korra and you were together once more letting time pass.

She had been your best friend almost since you could remember, your parents had always been close with Korra's even before you two were born and after the two family's addition, they made you hang out together to carry on with the friendship. Playing outside, learning about the tribe together, seeing Korra practice her three bending ways after discovering she was the avatar; in everything she had lived, you were there, she could find you by her side in any memory.

A year before she arrived to Republic City, you had moved there from the southern water tribe in looks of more opportunities, but not even the distance between you two could make the friendship weak. You wrote to Korra weekly telling her about how your life at the city was going and how you couldn't wait for her to come to Republic City finally.

What you didn’t expect on a random weekday getting ready to go to work was a telegram from the Air Temple Island asking your presence there as it had been requested by Korra, you called in to your job telling that you would be absent due to illness and quickly made your way to the island. When the avatar saw you step out the boat she was fast to run and pick you in her arms, both giggles combined while your legs trapped her torso.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm so happy you're here!” she exclaimed hugging your waist tight and allowing her head rest on your chest.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That's what I should tell you!” you said back, tiny kisses were left on her crown by your lips. “Dear spirits, I thought I wasn't going to see you again in this lifetime.” clearly exaggerated.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I'm so glad to finally meet you,” a male voice called your name and both of you turned to look at said direction, being met by the airbender master with his three kids.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh! Master Tenzin!” you untangled your legs from Korra as she put you down, but never got away. A small bow was made as a greeting and once you straightened, Korra pulled you closer by the shoulder as if you weren't already next to each other. You didn’t push her either, both arms went to hug her by the waist. “Thank you so much for allowing me to visit the island.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “No need, Korra was just impatient to see you and we didn’t know where you live.” he answered, the girl cleared her throat.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Alright, if you excuse us I would like to show my best friend around and then we'll go to the city.” Korra changed the subject, the older man opened his mouth to talk. “I'll be safe and back before night time! I got the most responsable citizen with me.”

Safe to say after that, you two became even more inseparable than before. Korra got used to the city faster thanks to your tours and how you were always taking her out to hang out.

When the girl met her new friends, she made sure you were also included in the plans with them as she wanted you by her side in her avatar journey. It was only a matter of time for the whole group to be comfortable with each other and act as best friends within the other.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “How long have you been with Korra?” the engineer asked you one day while eating lunch, you looked at the named and then to Asami.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, pretty much since I can remember.” you nodded and Korra mirrored your action by your side.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That's so sweet... You two look so cute together.” the comment was followed by coughs coming from the avatar and you after choke on food and water at being caught off guard, everyone panicked and helped the two of you.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “N–No!” the exclamation came hoarsely. “We are just best friends!” Korra made the clarification while you took deep breaths in.

A part of you felt wrong the way she answered. Of course you two were best friends, but... why did your chest felt a pressure at that title?

'we are almost like sisters, we deserve a better title.' your logic thought, 'suppressed feelings just dilate themselves until you can't hide them anymore, that's when they explode.' your subconscious argued back.

You only were able to nod again, agreeing to what was said by the girl. The confusion didn’t make things weird after, thankfully, as it had happened before when you were beginning your teenage years and some people had began to question if you two were really just friends. Back then it was all laughs when you got that question, Korra would say no and you two would have brush it off.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I need to go,” you announced, Korra's hand stopped playing with your hair and her lips made a pout, you smiled at her sight. “I'm sorry, darling, I need to sleep early, we have this big project presentation tomorrow.”

A very exaggerated sigh left her mouth and she nodded. “Fine, let's go then...”

Walking by the hand, Korra and you arrived to your apartment not even thirty minutes after. Even at your door, the both of you stood there for a moment, talking about anything, trying to delay your farewell knowing you would see each other the next day.

That was the night you stayed up almost the whole time wondering, what made people believe you two were dating? It was true, you were inseparable and always next to each other, but all best friends do that, don't they? Why did it bother you so much when she said no? Your mind flooded with unanswered questions that only made your mind think a bunch of possibilities.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Wait... What? You want me to what?” furrowed eyebrows met Korra's gaze, she giggled, blushed.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Teach me how to kiss...” she repeated, her teeth bitting the inner part of her cheek. “I know you know how to, you have this face of I already had my first kiss and I didn’t tell my best friend about it.”

Your face felt hot from one moment to the other, you shook your head. “This isn't about me, why you want me to teach you how to kiss?”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Because I haven't had my first kiss since I've been locked up all my childhood and part of my teenage years, you're literally the only person my age I knew for most of my life!” she started to present her case, your hands stopped making the dinner and your whole body turned to her. “And you're my best friend which means I trust you with my whole life. If there's someone I want for a first kiss it has to be you.”

You wouldn't lie, your heart was threatening with leaving your chest. Those sky colored eyes you adored to look at were having this adventurous gleam while her mouth was pouting, like trying to convince you into it; but you didn’t need convincing, it was Korra who we are talking about, you would lay your life for her.

Now on the couch, your hands were trembling in an almost imperceptible way while Korra felt excited to try a new experience.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Okay, let's... Uhm, first, let's try you coming at me.” you say, making yourself closer to the southerner, she nodded. “Don't do teeth, just... kiss me like you think you should.”

The avatar looked puzzled for a second, her left hand cupped your face and blue orbs looked at yours asking if she was doing good so far. You couldn't help but smile with calm, Korra felt more relaxed at your expression.

The first time your lips touched you could feel your heart jump with such devotion, even if it was a bit unsynchronized and you could feel how the girl was nervous by the way her lips felt on yours and how her free hand was shaking a little bit. Just when your lungs were asking for air did you pull away from the girl and she already had this impatient look on her.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “So?” she asked timidly, one of you hands took her free one and smiled.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “It's good, you're nervous, but it's good.” you answered, nodding, her eyes just got more demanding, you sighed. “Want me to guide you?”

Her head was so quick to nod that you got surprised at how you didn't have to finish the question to get an answer. You let go of her hand and guided yours to her waist to make her come closer, she did as told. Mentally you were praying to everything and everyone for calm, how would you see her to the face after all this? Was totally a problem for tomorrow.

You took the hand on your face and let it rest on your shoulder so now you could cup her face in your palm. Taking a deep breath in, your lips met hers again. Soft, fluffy, sweet, better than your imagination ever could present you.

At first, the kiss was still unsynchronized, but your hand on her face and your own lips took control softly over her. The action quickly turned to a sweet kiss, one Korra would remember and have her awake at night thinking about how good your lips tasted to her, asking why she wanted to try them again after.

At some point, the kiss turned the other way when the girl outlined your bottom lip making you sigh and her tongue took advantage, wanting to taste more of you. The avatar was moving to be on top of you, making her throat vibrate with short sounds and a second later, the two of you distanced yourselves. Big pupils met each other for a silent moment, both breathing irregularly.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “That...” you began, blinking yourself into clear thoughts. “Okay, I have no experience on that type of kisses, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Even if you two laugh it off, the impulse of taking again the foreign lips into yours was strong that you both decided to stop and do another activity to block the loud thoughts that clearly weren't so friend friendly.

Another night of no sleep was met by you and Korra joined to it all the way at the air temple island, how were you going to act like nothing happened after that? Denial, definitely, that was how the two of you were acting like the next days. Still close, as if you couldn’t live without the other, but burying deep down the feelings such actions brought upon you two.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Okay,” Korra closed her doors behind her after making sure there wasn't any airbender kid roaming around to hear you talk. “Are we... We're good, right?”

You frowned at the question, confused. “What are you talking about? Of course we are.”

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, good.” she sighed, taking a seat beside you in the bed, her hand intertwined with yours. “I thought maybe the whole kiss situation may had make this awkward or something.”

With your heart racing miles per second, you managed to smile with calm and nod.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Oh, yeah, so awkward I can't look at you to your face.” you said jokingly, she laughed. Your head looked to rest on her lap, making yourself comfortable in the mattress, Korra felt her heart skip a beat.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “I mean, I'm sure I don't kiss that bad.” she followed, giggling. Letting go of your hand so she could leave caresses on your head by playing with your hair.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “Do you want me to tell you the truth or to say what you want to hear?” now an offended sound came from her, a big laugh burst from your mouth. “I would need to try again to have a verdict.”

Your mouth was faster than your brain that by the time you finished the sentece, your eyes shot open to your own words. Korra, on her side, blinked surprised before smirking.

‍ ‍ ‍ ‍‍ “You wish,” she murmured, feeling anxious about the situation. “You don't deserve anything since apparently someone doesn't trust me enough to tell me about her first kiss.”

And the topic died right there, starting a new one telling the girl about your experience on kissing. Maybe it was for the best to not think about the kiss, there was a line neither of you wanted to cross out of fear of losing the friendship you two had. It was all you knew, Korra and you against anything and anyone, both knew if you talked about such feelings there would be a chance of it being the beginning of the end. Neither could bear letting the other go over anything, even if that meant burying deep down the feelings for the other just to keep the closeness you already were used to have.

[conkreetmonkey]

I have a weird, muddy opinion on how people on this site call The United States of America "USAmerica." Yeah, it works, and it removes any confusion about whether you're talking about the country or the landmass, but at the same time, it feels clunky? USAmerica just feels... idk, it's like you couldn't say it out loud without sounding goofy? You can say "the USA" out loud and it sounds good and makes sense, but at the same time the "the" makes it a bit awkward gramatically, and you can't just say "I'm from USA," but you can say, in text form, "I'm from USAmerica."

THEN there's the fact that people from that country are typically referred to as "Americans," and things from there as "American." When someone says "America," you don't think about the two connected continents the term could technically be referring to, you just think about the United States of America. It's an unusually "built" country within the region, made up of 51 smaller, unified nation-states that have combined into one very large, culturally and geographically disjointed country under one sprawling government, where every state, now functionally more of a province, retains the ability to have differing laws and economic policies, yet must answer to the grand government that controls them all as a whole, like if every country in Europe was ruled by one overseeing organization but were free to remain distinct as mini-nations rather than homogenized provinces. Two USAmerican states are far more different in legislation and culture than, say, two Canadian provinces are.

Given this, it makes sense for the country to simply be named "The United States of America." It's a bunch of states from America that are united into one big Voltron of a nation. Of course, though, you can't just say something like "this book is a great work of United States of America-ian literature," due to the way the English language works. Within the framework of English grammar, ideally, a country needs an adjective form of its name to concisely describe people and things from there, and while there are no hard rules as to how to go about that to my knowledge, there are a few different ways. You can apply a prefix to the country's name such as "ish" (British, Scottish, Turkish), "ian" (Brazillian, Russian, Indian), "ese" (Chinese, Japanese, Portuguese), "i" (Pakistani, Somali, Yemeni), or "an" (Guatemalan, German, Mexican), or if it sounds good you can just get funky with it and change a vowel or two (Norse, French, Dutch, Malagasy). And then there's Iceland with the "ic" (because they're special).

So BASICALLY, from THAT standpoint, using "American" as the USA's adjective makes sense. It flows well, does what it needs to. The problem, of course, is the overlap with the name of the landmasses. Technically, when one says "South American," they could be referring to either the continent of South America, or the south of the USA. Same with "North American." Now, nobody actually uses either of those terms to describe regions of the country, probably due to this overlap. A USAmerican could simply say "I'm from the north" or "I'm from a southern state," and you would understand given the context of them being a USAmerican. But then again, they couldn't just simply drop the country and compass-ional (whatever tf the term is) region in the same clause like people from any other country could without it sounding weird. "I'm from South France" makes sense as a sentence, as does "This plant grows in Northern Australia." "I was born in the South of the United States of America" is clunky and overly verbose, yet the lack of a proper country name without a "the" throws a wrench into that.

So what do we (typically) do? Just say "American" and let context do the work, clarifying if neccesary. "I'm from Southern America" obviously is not intended to apply to the continents, although it technically could. The reader, simply due to the context of knowing that South America is a continent and "America" usually refers to the USA unless otherwise stated, understands that the writer almost certainly means they're from a place like Texas or Louisiana, rather than Argentina or Chile. This way of writing/speaking is imprecise and requires unspoken context, but it gets the job done. America the country is a weird case in terms of its makeup, and that's reflected in its name. You're not referring to one country, you're referring to 51 micro-nations held together with one big fat federal government spread over them, like the thick plastic wrap holding a pallet of crates, boxes and sacks together as one shippable unit. And besides, nobody ever says "America" to refer to both continents, even though they technically could. They say "The Americas," because while technically one region, NA and SA are both very distinct and barely physically connected at all, held together by a single small landbridge (that has a canal though it now anyways, so you can't walk from one continent to the other without crossing water anymore).

So, in conclusion, idk, the term "USAmerica" removes the needless complexity of situational context, but it's somehow clunkier-feeling than the preexisting norm of just saying "America." I use and will continue to use the term USAmerica for brevity's sake since it's the norm on this site, but I'd certainly never use it anywhere else. America is an unusual country, and its name reflects that. A square peg in a language made of round holes, that can still fit if you turn it sideways a little. idk. I suppose the only real lesson here is that a) American exceptionalism is unintentionally portrayed in the language the country speaks, and b) English has a weird grammar system where things that are objectively correct within it sometimes don't "feel right" for no reason other than lacking succinctness.

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Funions & Scooby Snacks

Just a scene that came up in my head I’m shocked I felt motivated to write at all but here’s a apocalyptic steddie au where Steve is nonverbal. I might try to edit it better later who knows

Eddie slams his cross bow down, throwing himself to the floor not moving his watchful eyes from Steve. His hair is greasy, sticking to his forehead and matted together from weeks of no shower. His face was covered in dirt but Steve had already grown used to this look on the other. Steve doesn’t say anything, stays seated with his legs crossed as he slowly chews on the stale gummy Scooby Doo snacks he found at the gas station a couple of miles back. They were probably outdated but they were something.

“I can’t believe you are seriously sitting in front of me right now, eating Scooby doo snacks while I sit here and starve!” Eddie snaps. He gets grumpy when he’s hungry, but they also both know he didn’t like the texture of the gummy’s. He would spend a longer time holding himself back from throwing up then bitching about being hungry.

Steve doesn’t say anything, never does. Just looks over the fire at him as he purposely pulls another gummy from the small back. Letting the crinkling sounds echo through the woods. Before putting a show on as he pops the gummy into his mouth and begins to chew slowly again. A grin forming on his face as he watches Eddie dramatically gasp. Looking even more offended then before.

“How fucking dare you.” Eddie’s voice is loud, not afraid of the horrors in the woods. Both of them incredibly numb to it, knowing what to do if the man eaters came in crowds instead of being separated and by themselves.

Steve shakes his head amused, smile the only thing showing that he was finding this situation hilarious. Holding back soft chuckles as Eddie dramatically crawls around the fire. Grabbing his bow and carrying it with him out of instinct. Dropping it off to the side in reaching distance as he gets into Steve’s personal space.

Eddie still held a grumpy look on his face, possibly for a few seconds before a grin takes it’s place as he moves forward and tries to steal a gummy. Earning a slap from Steve who glares at him now. Causing Eddie to pout as he flops back down in the dirt dramatically. They both knew that he could catch a squirrel or some small animal for himself easily. Him acting like he was going to die from starvation had become a very common acting skit when they sat alone.

“Oh you have wounded me Stevie! Absolutely wounded me!” His voice is higher pitch, a southern accent poking through as Steve shakes his head amused. Before he moves over to his bag and pulls out a small bag of funions. Throwing them a bit aggressively in Eddie’s face as Eddie pretends to flop around like it hurt worst then what it actually did.

It takes a moment for Eddie to process what Steve gave him, a pause in silence. Before a loud gasp is in the air. “Oh, Stevie I could marry you. You know what-” Steve hears the bag ripping from behind him, the crinkling noise loud and annoying before Eddie is pushing himself off his back and moving forward. Making sure to get Steve’s attention.

“Stevie poo, apple to my pie, the nut to my cheerio, the fruit to my loop, the-“ Steve slaps him in the arm giving him a glare as Eddie laughs manically. Head tossed back as he does. Before he moves crouching into Steve’s space. Holding one of the funions in his hand. A funky looking round ring as he moves taking one of Steve’s hands in his. “Will you marry me puddin?” He teases.

How neither of them weren’t dating yet was beyond Steve’s comprehension. Yet this seemed more fitting for Eddie. He pretends to be offended at the thought of being married to the other before a grin grows on his face as he gives the other his answer with one look. Eddie stumbles over himself as he slides the edible ring on Steve’s finger.

“I do.” Steve says gently, barely above a whisper.

Eddie’s never heard him speak once in the past year and a half they’ve been running around together. A starstruck look on his face as he looks at Steve like he just hung the moon.

Steve’s face is a soft pink as he looks at the other carefully. Eddie grins before he’s tackling Steve, gummies going all over along with the ring on his finger snapping in half in the dirt. Eddie’s on top as his hand carefully caresses Steve’s face. Moving down and gently kissing the other. Both of them wrapped up in their own universe. Pulling away after a moment. Silence taking over them once again before Eddie (like normal) interrupts.

“I don’t think I’m starving anymore Mr.Munson.” He teases as he moves back in for another kiss.

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

Ninjago as things me, my friends and random people at school have said pt. 3

Jay: When the ADHD get's a little to not funky

Cole: My makeup isn't gay enough to go out in public yet Nya: Mood

Kai: I set an egg on fire once at 7 and now no one trusts me with even the microwave

Zane: Social cues! More like social death, for me specifically, seriously who was gonna tell me [name] hated me???

Nya: White people food *shivers*

Zane: I've got cool ass socks but no one can see them and that's the biggest tragedy since Kai dropping his gold fish

Lloyd: So the other day some asked me "If you're asexual how come you don't replicate" and he was so serious that I'm pretty sure this guy thought I was claiming to be a self reproducing entity

Jay/Cole: I found my old fanart from when I was 12 and I cringed so hard I went back in time just to slap that bitch

Pixal: Gender? I accidentally ate mine in the womb Zane: Gender? I usually leave mine at home (same conversation 2 different nb friends talking to each other lol)

Lloyd: When summer break comes I'm gonna sleep so hard God's gonna have to wake me up

Nya @ everyone: So what flavor of familial trauma are y'all?

Cole: The best use of my southern accent is my ability to flip into the homophobic uncle voice and saying shit like "You one of them damn queers?" and it fucking up my friends (I do this way to often but it never fails)

Kai: I realize I accidentally flirted with that person when I definitely didn't mean to, how come I'm smooth inconveniently?

Pixal: I brought Capri-suns for everyone!

Jay: *singing supergirl from Hannah Montana in the middle of the hallway*

Zane: I don't want to stim I want to explode

So I will be posting my Ninjago pride drawings very soon, probably after the new show comes out tho (which I'm VERY pumped for though I'm hesitantly optimistic since crystalized was...) Also this person I like may or may not have gotten me into Lego Monkie Kid and it's literally so fucking good and Mei WILL get fanart eventually.

Anyway I'm like this close to getting out of school and literally want to cry T-T.

Yall have a good day or night or whenever you are! Bye!

Garmadon: You kids scare me almost as much as the IRS (Love my algebra 2 teacher so much)

[angiiepaniic]

hiii giving you an excuse to talk about your bill because i also like him a lot and know your pain about never being able to talk about him. so heres your divine excuse to ^-^ i wanna hear

AAAA YOU DONT KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE this will be VERY LONG and VERY RAMBLY so like u asked for this (thank u btw ur my first ask)

man idek where to like start :,D

(should note that this is mainly a modern rendition but sometimes i picture us in his world too so it goes either way, really :3)

if you want me to elaborate on anything then just lmk! (that goes for anyone who wants to)

OH OH ok so i’ve been REALLY getting into the band sleep token and there’s like 4 songs that remind me of him and as a result CANNOT stop listening to them (namely rain, give, mine, and telomeres - i highly recommend them!)

bill will listen to just about anything music wise but has a particular soft spot for things like blues, country, and some older rock like billy joel (also really likes soul and r&b like h.e.r. and muni long but will never admit it) — but generally, in his eyes, if it’s a good song it’s a good song, regardless of genre or artist.

he’s even more open with food, like, he will eat anything in front of him even if he doesn’t like it - just how he was raised. he doesn’t have any set favourites besides some southern classics (he will eat 25 servings of mac n cheese in one sitting if u let him)

i on the other hand am VERY iffy with food and find it hard to eat a lot of things, but we know each other so well now that bill will just eat off my plate sometimes (with consent ofc)

he’s not the best cook but is an absolute GRILL MASTER. all gang cookouts are held at his place (and pearson can’t decide if that’s insulting or not)

we spend like 90% of our time just relaxing together, but he does boxing on the weekends to (and i quote) ‘’stay strong for his lady’’

very protective, ABSOLUTELY the jealous type - not in a toxic way, just a bit grumpy sometimes (as always, this is bill we’re talking about)

he’s SO pleasant to be around. we have the same awful humour, the same love languages (we’re both so touch starved that we cling to each other like a curse)

he can be a bit a of a bastard with all the playful teasing but i do the same so it’s an even battleground. i can call him stupid and it’s fine, anyone else does and im THROWING HANDS (and so will he, probably) — and in turn, he’s the only one who can call ME stupid or HE will throw hands while i cry in the corner LMAO

the modern stuff doesn’t have very specific lore, just some cross-dimensional shenanigans. most of it is just based around my actual day-to-day and how i think we’d be living together — but i have a bunch of little aus! got a goth one, got a biker one (one of my personal faves), got a gender bend one because i’ll be damned if bill can’t ALSO be my girlfriend

when i imagine us in the red dead universe i refuse to let him have the bad ending he gets canonically - my funky little brain says that everyone’s healthy and happy in a little ranch or settlement somewhere because that’s what EVERYONE deserves (except micah)

i know most people view him as gay, but i personally headcanon him as pansexual and into everyone regardless of gender because I feel like that fits him quite well

he really is quite loveable, just sometimes he has trouble showing it - but he’s getting better. his ‘i love you’s come out as random hugs, random compliments, and endearing nicknames (as embarrassing as it is i imagine his go-to is calling me bunny :3)

we’re both kinda insecure so sometimes we have a back-and-forth but it’s compliments. i’ve been telling him every day that he’s wonderful and amazing and the best and that his belly’s one of my favourite things and i will DIE on that hill idc how much he complains.

ik that if he was reading the above paragraph he’d look at me and go ‘’BUT YOU COMPLAIN LIKE THAT TOO’’ and yk what he’s right - but that’s why we have each other

our relationship is very healing for the both of us. we both get the love we need and deserve after being deprived of it for so long, and genuinely we’re happier for it. i got out of a lot really bad habits thanks to him, and i’ve been doing my best to help him too <3

[sonic-oc-showdown]

ROUND 3 BRACKET A

Kaleival belongs to @zepandovski

Ghost belongs to @retrochao

Find out more about them below!

Kaleival:

Kaleival is a chaotic energetic mobian aardwolf! Let's say that they can't stay still in a single place and will bite your ankle if called a shortie [she is short, smol even], she can be a little impatient and stubborn and act before thinking sometimes but still is a caring and attentive fella and friend

She mostly pass her time doing whatever waste her energy, sometimes she will suddenly feel sleepy and lay anywhere to sleep [or simply fall on the ground sleeping]

They have a clown vibe and style! So give any colorful and funky clothes for them and they will certainly wear it

Lil fun fact, due to they being a aardwolf they r a insectivore! They sometimes can be seen snacking on some fried insects :)

Ghost: (image credit @/superemeralds)

"Ghost" is a hedgehog hailing from the southern reaches of Shamar - He has spent most of his life in the desert, with one goal in mind; Raise Enough Rings to travel to Adabat, a more suited location for his best friend, Hapi, the swim chao. Ghost is a bit physically frail, he cannot run or climb, so instead, He sails across the sand dunes searching for Treasure (and adventure!) to the best of his abilities. The treasure he finds is sold back to the people of Shamar - so he spends his time in ancient ruins or being a delivery boy to save up any money he can manage for their dream.

This is, however, prolonged indefinitely; Ghost has a Curse. One that works against him at every turn. The people of Shamar are so afraid of what state the curse turns him into that the town gossip has nicknamed him "The Ghost" or "The Desert Phantom". He is effectively haunted - the curse changed his fur color from brown to white, and its hold on him gets stronger at night or when he is vulnerable/weak. He cannot control what happens during these outbursts.

He is somewhat Solitary, only coming and going when he needs to, but tries his best to be of help or kind to others when they need it. He's a sweetheart, as well as somewhat a dork, but ever since the curse, hes been a lot more stressed and represses a lot of his desires in order to keep it at bay, to prevent him from scaring, or possibly hurting others. He very obviously struggles with this, and tends to be alone more often. He really enjoys others company, though, so its been tough.

He eventually becomes friends with @theknifedance 's Ganymede, a hare who is studying at Spagonia University, abroad in Shamar for Astronomy - Leading Ghost down a new path; letting himself open up to making friends and accept help with his curse.

[shadowland]

Country Trip: A Talk With Gram Parsons

Fusion magazine, March 26 1969 {x} transcript ↓

Gram: "There's a very good music scene in L.A., a lot of good musicians have been playing together lately and getting together... but not so much at the whiskey and places like that, as in honky-tonks out in the valley - groups like Delanie and Bonnie, Taj Mahal, the Tulsa Rhythm Review... a lot of funky people coming from the south - Texas, Tennessee, and Tulsa - coming out to L.A. to make a little dough, and they find out that you can't really because there aren't many clubs in L.A. to play at, unless you're the Four Ragas...

Someone: "Actually, there's only one club that's left, you know, and that's the Whiskey. The city has clamped down on dancing - you can not dance in clubs anymore, which just kills the business. The Whiskey is on its last legs fighting to keep the wolf away."

Gram: "What was happening in L.A. was Snoopy's Opera House, Peacock Alley, the Laurel Room, the Prehade, the Palamino, the Ace's Club and the Red Volure, and the Hobo - clubs like that that nobody knows about that are like in the San Fernando Valley, the City of Industry, Orange County, I mean the clubs out in the Valley are really honky-tonks, and they're really funky, and they're nicer than like the honky-tonks in Nashville, because the people there are less liable to rap on you for having long hair - they see more of it - and you can go out there and Boogie all you want. So that's real nice - that's the most positive thing I can think of about L.A. - these places out in the Valley, like out on the Strip itself... with all the people addicted to carbon monoxide."

WH: "You were at Harvard-"

Gram: "Briefly - very briefly."

WH: "But up here with the International Submarine Band, and up here with country and western - and you thought you could do best with it out on the coast, rather than like going back to Nashville and playing around there...?"

Gram: "I wanted to go out where it was warm. I was really tired of the cold - here and in New York - and I wanted to go out to the coast for awhile - 'cause it was warm, and everybody was saying it was nice, and I hadn't been there yet. And in two years I sort of surmised what it was all about, and now I'm ready to go someplace else."

WH: "Is it the Bakersfield influence that comes down to people in the San Fernando Valley-"

Gram: "Yeah, it is."

Someone: "Not really, you know. Bakersfield is sort of its own little thing - Buck Owens, Merle Haggard - and southern California, from L.A. down, has always been a very big country and western thing: located in the little suburban communities like Norwalk, Downing, the Valley - all those places around L.A."

Gram: "But the Bakersfield thing is what really got me into it: like four years ago, I was digging Buck Owens, some of the people like that. I mean, I dug the older country artists before then - but I just got started getting into the real hot, electric thing they had. And I sat around and said it sure would be nice to like do a recording session and have Don Rich come down, and cats like that - that's ultimately what happened before we split there, we got together with all those guys, and we all dig each other. Maybe Liza Williams doesn't know who we are, best they do."

WH: "You yourself were in with Billy James in Laurel Canyon foe awhile, weren't you?"

Gram: "Yeah... enjoyed that you know - a nice thing to do. It's too bad that it couldn't be a little cooler - it couldn't be a little bit cooler... It's all like a great [illegible sentence] don't know who you're talking to... Mod Squad time... you don't know... chick comes on to everybody in the band... I'm beginning to wonder about Hippies in general... You can just tell by looking at a person's eyes... but they got all the gear, the blonde hair, everything, and they're so damn ready... but you don't know... When people on Sunset Strip ask you what your sign is, they're really asking if you're bisexual or not - because the chicks who ask you are the chicks who dig bisexual cats, sort of, and the guys who ask you are the guys who dig bisexual cats, sort of - and and they're asking you what your sign is, because they want to know if you're earthy or firey, or airy, or watery - you know, what are you. Nobody knows anything about astrology there, I mean very few people do. What your rising sign is doesn't mean anything."

WH: "Why not San Francisco?"

Gram: "I hate San Francisco. San Francisco is just the jivest town in the world. It's beautiful, and everyone loves its morning fog that fills the air and everything - but listen, when people start playing the 'Star Spangled Banner' by Kate Smith on the radio just to put down the United States - nothing good can come of it. And San Francisco is the home of the Onk."

Someone: "All the long hair and the Hippie freakery has filtered down no through the entire Establishment and has manifested itself in Onk."

Gram: "Both cities though, have their good and bad points, but they're due for a - I don't know - a lot of people say earthquake; I'd say that both cities are ready to pay a lot of dues, because old people and young people are jiving each other, and not getting together... It's time to get ourselves together. I mean, we can all be positive if we want to - but we've got to really love each other; we can't just do this to each other, you know, all the time. We've got to find a way and be consistent in it, or you're gonna meet with hysteria - and I think that both cities are going toward hysteria.

We're writing a song called 'The San Francisco Gold Rush' right now, and it's on the theory that San Francisco has done approximately the same thing to the music scene in the 60's that Philadelphia did to the 50's, you know, and this is really obvious to me the way that Philadelphia affected Elvis Presley with its satin shirts, and losing the real... I don't mean the clothes that he wore. I just use that to project an image of... Do you know what I mean? Well so there you go; San Francisco has made everyone want to be Ginger Baker, or Eric Clapton, and have ribbons hanging from your shirt and the whole thing. I'm using clothes because clothes are the most obvious thing you can point at... to see what a person is doing. And the other side uses clothes too; Richard Nixon and Governor Reagan see a bunch of little girls in peajackets and wearing Onks, and they think they're the enemies of educational wisdom, you know. Maybe everyone would be a lot safer wearing sequins. We're wearing them 'cause they're bullet proof."

WH: Has Bakersfield been coaslatent all the while?

Gram: "Not really, because country music is going through its fad so rapidly too. I mean, its being affected by the Nehru shirt scene, Glen Campbell, for instance, is a very, very good guitar player - one of the best, but he has been hyped, ruined - destroyed. So many of the country artists are just trying to pick up gimmicks. They always have but they're getting more and more into it - but the same thing with the spades, man, they're getting into a real jive protest scene. They're saying that we are where it's at - you can't have soul unless you're black; and country people are saying you can't have a soul unless you're white unless its one a [illegible word] in it, nothing [illegible word] unless it has a steel guitar. Now I don't go along with that, you see. I think horns are really great and everything, but I want to play with a steel guitar because it's where I'm at now. I love steel. But I'm perfectly willing to listen to B.B. King. The problem is that country radio stations are not playing the real country songs: they're playing "Gentle on My Mind" because they want pop people to get into country music. They think that's the way to do it, but it's not... Yeah, Glen Campbell sang tenor on the International Submarine Band record. He's funky you know."

WH: "What's (James) Burton doing?"

Someone: "Sessions - eighty zillion sessions, you know, work."

Gram: "We run into him a lot. I think he's on sort of the same level that we are, you know; he's eyeing the whole scene very skeptically, and he's a very funky cat-"

Chris Ethridge: "He's got real long hair now, and a beard..."

Gram: "And his brother calls him in the middle of - he called him in the middle of a session Chris and I did with him the other week, looking for a 64 Chevrolet engine in a 49 frame or something... James is really all right, you know, and he's just waiting, he's just waiting..."

Gram: "The Tulsa guys, the Memphis guys - ten years ago, they were playing with Buddy Holly, they were playing with the Crickets, they were playing with Little Richard, they were playing with guys like that; and now they're doing their brand new 1969 thing. It's the same with us. And Jerry Lee Lewis is back, Fats Domino is back - I couldn't be happier. Conway Twitty's back. He's got the hottest new country band around, and he's out of sight. In his own right, he's better than all of us new country groups - 'cause he's paid more dues, he's older. As soon as young kids start digging old funky white artists like they dig old funky black artists... Like they can listen to B.B. King but can they listen to George Jones, they can listen to George Jones, they can listen to Albert King and Ike and Tina Turner, and so on, but can they listen to Conway Twitty... You've got your Otis Redding, but you've also got your Merle Haggard. I suppose that we would correspond and parallel - we would be on the same level as the newest things that are happening in Rhythm & Blues, like down in Muscle Shoals that's our scene. It's a bunch of young white people who are starting to play white music.

You really can't put music in geographical places, because country music probably came out of the Midwest as opposed to the south. But I'd say Muscle Shoals is one of the hottest recording scenes in the United States, and it's one that we relate to more than we relate to Nashville or L.A. We try to make our recording sessions sort of like Muscles Shoals rather than Nashville. We didn't hire a bunch of X musicians, we all concentrated within ourselves on doing it. And we just hung out - and did it together.

Chris Ethridge: "You remember all of those cats that did 'Where Have You Been,' and a real good song, 'You Better Move On' - all of those tunes, remember those tunes? Those were some of the first ones cut down in Muscle Shoals, and that was like ten years ago, or eight years ago. Old Rick Hall, you know, he got himself a studio, and started getting the local cats from around there coming in. And Joe South and Tommy Roe would come in from Atlanta, and they'd cut some stuff, like 'Carol' - do you remember that record 'Carol'? there was a guy in the background going 'Ompah, ompah,' like that; well, that was a farmer from Dewy, Alabama who was a friend of Dan Penn's, and he came up to visit - so they put him on a record; and there he was, you know, he made it.

Gram: "On 'Hippie Boy' ...I mean, the album (The Gilded Palace of Sin) goes from like Everly Bros. cuts to more modern, polished things. But at the end of the album, there's like all of our friends there singing: the GTO's, Joel Scott Hill, Johnny Barbatoes, Henry Louie, Larry March, Bobby McMann - we're all like singing together, 'There'll be peace in the valley.' We had a real good time doing the album.

WH: "The thing is with that song ('Hippie Boy') - the talking kind of country song has the potential for being sentimental, and yet it doesn't become so."

Gram: "Yeah, well - that song - We had the idea from the very beginning; we kept saying, we got to do a song called 'Hippie Boy' about Chicago, and it's got to be a narrative song, and Chris Hillman has to do it; and he has to drink a fifth of scotch before he does it - just to really feel the whole thing; not smoke an ounce of grass - but drink a fifth of scotch and do a narrative. And let's see someone else do that - let's see McGuinn do it."

WH: "It seemed like the toughest challenge of the record."

Gram: "Right, it was. We went through 'Hot Burrito 1 & 2,' and we saw that we had the high polished musical thing by the nuts - we had it and we could do it. My piano playing and organ playing came back to where it used to be, before I was with the Byrds. I started getting funky again, and everybody started getting funky again; and it was time to do 'Hippie Boy' - It was time to end the album. And after we did it, it was time to beat it - it was time to get out of L.A. We would love to have our next album called 'Ray of Hope', you know. We'd like to find some place over in Europe where we're really happy and we write about all the funky nice farmers. We dig to do that; I mean, we are not a negative, put-down group, like people seem to think. They're so uptight about our sequined suits - I just can't believe it. Just because we wear sequined suits doesn't mean that we think we're great. It means we think sequins are great. We think sequins are good taste. Rolling Stone, the Free Press - they think that we're a bunch of... show offs, and we're trying to put everything down. We're merely reflecting everything, because real music is supposed to reflect reality. You can't build a reality in music, you have to reflect it. Like 'original' music was made to get people together - like religious music, to sort of form a bond between you and your ancestors, let's say. In church, you would have music that would make you nostalgic, and think of the oldies times and what the reality really was that has led you up to right now. That's where music's at You can't build your own reality - that's why psychedelic music is so jive; it's every a everybody's own bag. No, I'm sorry, you know, we're all in it together - like it or not.

To do the album in L.A., we had to close ourselves off. When the smog was heavy we had to wear tanks of oxygen, and luckily we were blessed with a fellow named Henry Louie who can just cool out. He's an engineer unlike any engineer I've ever worked with, and projected an attitude of; 'we're not in L.A. boys, we're together.'"

WH: "You had to go through three years of L.A. to do this - with the Submarine Band, and the Byrds."

Gram: "We paid a lot of dues, but we dug it. I mean, while everybody else was going to the Whiskey building up their egos, and everything, we were saying; 'Jesus Christ, man, nobody likes us. Jesus, what are we doing'. In the meantime, we were going out to places like all those clubs I mentioned, and to forget our troubles, we were getting smashed - and rocking 'n rolling every night, you know, just as hard as we could. And after three years, somebody finally bought country music, someone finally bought the Internal Submarine Band - and then they sold the name, and everything; we paid more dues - but country music was being accepted and we didn't care. And now, everybody wants to get on the bandwagon; everybody want to say they're country as Crawdaddy seems to think he is."

Someone: "I don't think he himself is trying to project that image, but that it's imposed-"

Gram: "Oh right, he's always been funky. People hated him when he started out. They said rotten things about him, but now they're trying to project the country scene onto him. And he isn't country. He's a poet-"

Someone: "He's and old fashioned minstrel."

Gram: - "a beautiful poet, but Columbia records does the same thing with him that they did with the Byrds; they hype him. And I don't know, you just can't believe that sort of stuff..."

WH: "Has A & M been good to you?"

Gram: "They have been real good. They've let us follow our concepts, so to speak. I mean, they're in it for the money like every other record company, and if people start buying out records, they'll let us run with the ball. That's all I can say. I don't know what will happen - otherwise, I don't even want to think about it. If I have to pay more dues I'm willing to because I dig honky-tonk, and rock and roll - and being on the street doesn't bug me at all. I don't need to have an image... So it doesn't matter, one record company or the other. When we got together there were a lot of record companies that were eager to sign us - and anything we wanted, they were willing to do - but we just happened to sign with A & M, mainly because of Mike Vosse, who came and got us. I mean, he was actually interested. He didn't set up appointments for us to come and see him; he came and saw us. Tom Wilkes, in the graphics department, was a friend of Chris', you know. So we had a personal contact and they took a personal interest in us. It's not the big executives - like Herb Alpert and everything did - but who cares about big executives? Who knows where they're at anyway? Herb Alpert's a nice cat, he's a brilliant cat, he's got a beautiful smile - and that's all I know."

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Good morning, Gazillionaires. Today, we have a classically beautiful southern style house for less than $1M. The 1913 St. Louis, Missouri home has 3 bds., 5ba., and is priced at $978K.

It has charm, but it also got a funky update, so it’s got the best of both worlds.

It’s versatile, b/c they opened the home up, but divided the spaces with furniture. So, if the new buyer prefers an open concept layout, this house has it.

The dining area is next to the living room area, there’s no separate room, so if the new buyer doesn’t want a dining room, that’s another option.

I’m slightly confused by this. Is this a bd. on the main floor, separated by a divider? I can’t tell. It’s a pretty space, though, and this home sure is flexible.

The kitchen actually reminds me of a sunporch. It’s kind of cute.

And, they have a little nook for the w/d.

Nice little shower room looks like it may have once been just a powder room.

This home has a very interesting configuration, and I wonder what the original layout was. The typical center hall now has a loft space with a loo underneath. 

There’s no way that this sleep loft was here, originally. The home was more than likely one floor with a large dogtrot hallway. 

I would say that this could be either one big bd. or 2 smaller ones, divided by a bookshelf.

The floors look original, but I’m trying to figure out where the walls were that they removed. You can sort of tell by the position of the double doors.

It’s listed as a single family residence, but here’s a second, very large kitchen.

There’s another w/d hookup, closet area, and small bath on this side of the house.

Narrow deck overlooking the pool.

Definitely a space for a hoedown. It even has a kitchenette.

Beautiful shower and a toilet.

Plus, yet another kitchen. This house is full of surprises.

Outside is a barbecue area and pool house.

Shower and toilet in the pool house.

This house has an unusual setup, but it offers a lot of options. I kind of like it, and think it could definitely be converted to a 2 family.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/300-3rd-St-Bay-Saint-Louis-MS-39520/91603702_zpid/