#everyone come look at how funny this person is

[goldenwitherphoenix13]

Throwing in my two pence here. This might get a little extensive and confusing, since I'm not great with words, so bear with me and trust me, ok?

First pence goes to this. Small thing on this being a non scripted series, yes, this is very true. None of the "curses" and stuff are planned, any references are usualy just thrown in for fun because the creators love watching us make our own stories and art, and Martyns lore is mostly his own AU that isn't connected to the main series.

But fandoms love making their own interpretations of stories, like Martyn does. It's why I have no problem with the "blessings and curses" of each participant. It's just the fan interpretations of funny coincidencs. The AUs we make. The fan content, artwork and stories, we make with the sturdy base of the life series. Jimmy and Martyn love reacting to fan made content, angsty or silly. They are loving it for the craft that it is! But they aren't canon, and never will be. Both sides know this. Scott's blessing won't always work, Grians widow curse won't always happen, and Jimmy's canary curse won't always play out quite the same as others expect it to do. Speaking of...

Time for that second penny. My interpretation of the Canary curse.

To me, the canary curse was NEVER about Jimmy being out first. It was NEVER about how he is bad at minecraft. It was NEVER about his permadeath being the the first one every time.

It was always about the chaos that came afterwards.

He wasn't cursed to die first, he was just the catalyst of disaster. When players would start to die left, right and center. It was a moment in every series where the red names would stack up and start to kill more and more, because now that a player had fallen, a sense of desperation falls across everyone. Dying first 4 times was just an unfortunate coincidence.

Jimmy is not awful at the game, he has some good skills. We can talk about that in a bit though.

The Canary in the coalmine might sometimes die to warn the coal miners of the poisons, but their silence without death speaks the exact same message.

Jimmy isn't cursed to die. Jimmy is blessed with a warning to everyone else that the end ic coming and discord wii be upon them soon.

And that warning is just his silence, through life and death.

He does not need to die for the Canary curse to come calling. Not to him. But to everyone.

Chucking in one extra penny, I would like to say that I very much think he can win. Genuinly, not having a laugh, not mocking it, and i'm not listening to anyone else. Session 3 gave me a scare, and i started doubting it, but i told myself (and Jimmy in chat) that i believe, and I was right to. Session 4 was amazing for him.

Jimmy is not bad at the game by any means. He can just be very unlucky. Events don't always line up for him so he ends up looking more incompetent than he is.

But when they do, well, just look at his 1v3 in dodgebolt and how he won the tournament for the crown in empires season 1, and remember how he spent the majority of Last life on YELLOW. And even episode 4 of wild life with how well he did in that session. I'm not saying he's the greatest minecraft player of all time because he does have his moments of lacking braincells like we all get, but he has got some skills. He just likes to mess about a bit to make things a little more entertaining for his viewers, he plays with his viewers in mind, but when he locks in, he very much locks in. And I love it.

I do still think he can win a life series. If not this one, maybe another one in the future. But I think he can do it. And if only one person in this universe believes that, then I am that one person.

Right, sorry if anything came off rude, im not the best at phrasing stuff so i might of misworded somethings here and there by accident. Again sorry if i did. I'm not here to change opinions, just to share my own. I'll leave now.

cries because everybody in this fandom sees the thought of Jimmy winning as a laughable impossibility and even people who say they're rooting for him only mean it as a joke and whenever you mention that he's doing good people have to let you know that it won't last long and inevitably he will die first because of some stupid self-fulfilling prophecy that got turned into my least favorite fanon ever. why can't he just be like a player who has a chance just like everyone else does. have you stopped to consider WHY he dies first so often? it's not a curse. this isn't a scripted series. it's because he's incredibly pacifistic and because people generally don't want to help him because they consider him a weak player. both of these things have been done away with this season, he has a taste for blood and an ally who is both incredibly underrated in his strength and has said he would never betray him. jimmy has as much a chance as anyone else.

[2hoothoots]

saw this post in the tag earlier talking about how we never really get a detailed look inside Maligula’s mind, and it got me thinking about the themes of the game again so I’m gonna use it as a jumping-off point. because i agree, it’s very significant that we never get to really see Maligula/Lucrecia as she used to be! but i think that fact actually makes the game much stronger, especially on a thematic level.

Lucrecia’s presence haunts the narrative throughout Psychonauts 2. at first, we can only make her out through her absence. she’s the seventh stump around the campfire, the missing center of a torn photo. we see glimpses of her in the ruined fragments of Ford’s mind. in Helmut’s mind, she’s a looming specter, a shadow of the friend he once knew. in Gristol’s mind, she’s a celebrated war hero. and as the game goes on, we learn that everything in Psychonauts 1 – the Aquatos leaving Grulovia, the family ‘curse’, Raz running away to camp – all of that was set in motion because of her. she’s at the very center of the tragedy that PN2 revolves around.

and she does haunt the narrative, even if Nona is still alive. because the old Lucrecia – the real Lucrecia – we never get to meet her. she’s long gone.

the closest we come to actually interacting with Lucrecia, as she used to be, is in Cassie’s mind. while the rest of the Psychic 7 only have a few lines to share, paper Lucrecia has a full dialogue tree. this is probably one of my favourite moments in the whole game. there’s an awe in Raz’s face, getting to meet her, but also this palpable tension throughout the conversation.

(screenshots taken from here! if you don’t remember this conversation, or just want a refresher, i’d highly recommend going back to watch it.)

this dialogue tree is great. it’s funny, and subtle, and surprisingly moving. Raz is full of questions for Lucrecia, and Lucrecia isn’t giving much away, but we get glimpses of her story here that are so tantalising. it’s a fascinating window into the person she used to be: coy, and playful, and a little aloof.

but – this is also very clearly not Lucy. we hear Cassie’s own thoughts coming out of her mouth (“Cassie told us [hydraulic mining] was very bad for the environment, but nobody listened to her, as usual”), but her dialogue is also steeped in Cassie’s confusion, her struggle to understand what happened (“I don’t really know [why I murdered all those people]. I was the nicest person during my time at Green Needle Gulch”). this is the closest we ever get to seeing Lucrecia, face-to-face, but she’s still heavily filtered through someone else’s perception.

how much of this is the real Lucrecia, and how much of it is just how Cassie sees her? we’ll never know.

i think a crucial part of PN2’s themes is that perception – how you can be someone completely different to different people around you. everyone has their own version of the story to tell. the most obviously propagandistic is Gristol’s retelling, which comes as a shock twist at a climactic moment that throws the whole game on its head. here, we get to see the other side of the story, from someone who only ever knew Lucrecia as a protector, a general, a murderer – and thought she should stay that way.

(screenshots from here)

but as entrenched as he is in his narrative, Gristol doesn’t have all the answers, either. and Ford’s version of events, while probably more factually correct, is still steeped in his own biases. Ford was so dedicated to the memory of the woman he loved that he did terrible things for her; and when he tried to bury that memory, it was so deeply entrenched in his mind that it broke him.

(screenshot from here)

but note the wording, when he talks about using the Astralathe to “neutralise” the “problematic” parts of her mind. My Lucy.

something else that PN2 touches on is how experiences change you. after the battle against Maligula, the remaining members of the Psychic 7 become very different individuals. Cassie withdraws from the world, unable to return to normality after everything that happened; Compton becomes an anxious wreck without his support network. Bob is broken with grief after the loss of his husband, and Ford willingly shattered his mind because it was what he thought he had to do to keep Lucrecia safe. and throughout the game, Raz helps all of them – but he doesn’t fix them. he doesn’t undo everything they went through, because how could he? the things that happened will stay with each of them forever.

and it’s the same with Lucrecia. even after she lets go of the rage and grief and violence that Maligula carried with her, symbolically severing the threads that bind her to her past – she doesn’t just go back to her old self. because she’s someone different now, too. she’s a mother, and a grandmother, and she loves her family so truly and so deeply. she’s patched together a new life for herself. and that’s what she affirms to Raz, in the moments before the final fight.

and he loves her right back. even after everything he’s learned, she’s still his Nona.

i think sometimes a story is more satisfying for not giving you the easy answers. Psychonauts 2 leaves a lot of things unsaid. it gives you pieces of the puzzle, glimpses of Lucrecia’s story through other people’s eyes, and asks you to draw your own conclusions from that. and then it says: this is who she is now. this is what matters. and personally, i think it’s stronger for that.

[girldriveroscar]

Parasocial Oscar and Landoscar analysis ahead u have been warned.

Contextually, 2020 Oscar was finally pushing open the door to the world of F1 as a potential driver (Mark Webber management, Renault Sport Academy, Eurocup Championship, etc.) and that fact combined with still being a schoolboy, surrounded by mates who actively followed his career and were his personal hypemen definitely made Oscar a bit of a hotshot to gossip about. Sure, he's kinda a nerd who games and races but also he's got great grades and a pretty girlfriend and he's coworkers with max fewtrell, best friend of emerging F1 heartthrob, lando norris, so really the cards were lining up in his favor. And yet none of that success (both socially, as it appeared to his peers, and personally, career-wise) went to Oscars head. Rather, he oozed this dorky endearing confidence that planted the seed of cool self-certainty that'd follow him into his F1 career. I mean from the very start, we can witness how Oscar took everything in stride, building a strong sense of self over easily inflating his ego.

This got kinda long so the rest goes under the cut for organizing sake!

Then, observing his Prema years, Oscar was newly thrust into a whole new team vibe. And in response, he outwardly tried time and time again to be a team player with the hazing/embarrassing bits (insert multiple clips of him dancing and singing despite initial hesitation, easily accepting very personal race vlogging into his daily regime, making hundreds of silly gifs for every occasion (heavily encourage everyone to take a look bc there's genuinely so many))

NGL watching Prema vids was what initially helped me understand Oscar better/made me like him bc we get the most clear display of his lack of ego. There seemed to be a general understanding coming out of this content: the media took an exorbitant amount of energy and wasn't at all conducive to developing his racecraft. buuuuuut regardless Oscar maintained an attitude of these people are my closest thing to family out here, they care about my wellbeing and my success and god damn it if they wanna take photos in matching Christmas PJs then hand over the damn PJs. And that was all of course bolstered by his growing success and notoriety on twitter. Just as he'd established a strong sense of self from the very start, now his public identity took it's shape in a way that felt honest and lifelike <Insert Clip of Angelina pointing out his messy clothes and Piastri Shrug>. He managed to carve out a niche amongst the Prema cast and it's not that he needed to be funny but if people memed him and laughed then hey if it gets me popularity I'm all for it. 

Honestly when people dog on Oscar, saying he's got no personality it makes me crazy because it's the total opposite! I think the charm in observing his growth from Renault Academy to Prema to F1 is catching how quickly he established an unchanging confidence in not only his racecraft and wheel knowledge but also in his personality- and how that personality shines through in subtle ways. When Lando does his negging, everyone just heard Oscar sing for the first time in McLaren, am I a funny teammate, Oscar takes it in stride. He doesn't blush, nor take insult, because he has no complex - he's confident about who he is, even if people don't find it amusing. Oscar knows he's not too shy to burst into song, it's just that there isn't anyone who needs him to, so why should he? He knows Lando doesn't think he's funny, but it's not like he was trying to be anyways, so what's it matter? On the flip side too, the rare times we get an outward expression of his confidence are GEMS. The Pool Promo, where he *unprompted* shows off with a trickshot and wins, THIS VIDEO where he eggs on Lando to call lies on his confidence, calling out Carlos/Lance when they interfere with his driving, does it please you greatly that you've won before Lando, is max the best driver on the grid, the whole cricket video, etc etc.

(LOL because I write about fashion outside of this blog and someone might appreciate the connection, in my brain I kinda liken Lando and Oscar's respective confidence to loud/quiet luxury. Lando's a OOAK Hot Pink Birkin and Oscar is a Helmut Lang black slack lolol) (Not a diss btw both items have social connotations/importance that we could unpack for hours but I digress)

I digress I digress I digress. Going back to the Prema assigned humiliation rituals. In a way I think Oscar's ethos regarding embarrassment/lack of ego heavily simplifies down to this story. His mom goes on to explain how after winning an award she gave him a big kiss in front of the whole school and, contrary to how most kids would be embarrassed or angry at the sudden loud affection, Oscar just brushed it off like no matter! "He's just resigned to it" <- literally the most OP81 psychoanalysis of all time thank you Nicole Piastri. For Oscar, the implied embarrassment he should be feeling does not register, as he simply receives love without any grievances, and hasn't the mind to worry how everyone else perceives this exchange. I swear I have a point pls stick with me. So, reiterating, this is the Prema treatment, sitting in front of the camera, Oscar resigns to producing content that's at least moderately enthusing because at the end of the day, the love for his team and the people he's working with is what's worth sacrificing mystery or "cool-ness" for. And even that's a bit of a misstep because I don't think he views it as a sacrifice so much as 'being perceived' doesn't fall on his radar of important things at all. Which! is what makes Oscar SO effortlessly nonchalant in an objectively cool way! (like this is where the more surface-level likening to Kimi Raikkonen <certified Ice Man> comes from) (The real Oscar freaks know he's not any cooler than his indifference and he's actually an incredibly endearingly awkward guy. He just doesn't take himself too serious, idk you get it.)

Now continuing down this timeline, F1 Oscar, who's got exponentially more eyes on him and a humongous team of people who's names he is still learning- comparatively, who is the one guy he can definitely remember the name of. In this transfer of teams and people, all this “I love you even if its kinda objectively embarrassing for me” energy Has to go somewhere and where else would it go than the one guy who’s name he can remember; the one guy in the same exact position as him; the one guy who he’s followed and idolized since 14! YEAH YEAH. And now Lando himself is hardly an extrovert like Oscar’s old prema friends/coworkers, so instead of yes I'll do a stupid dance so you can have good content and make your job easier Oscar -Acts of Service- Piastri has kinda got the most easy job in the world of loving Lando —I just want to make eye contact and know you hate/love this as much as I do— Norris. Like they genuinely match each others freaks in the sweetest introverted mutually beneficial way.

When you really dissect Oscar's Prema content, he���s equally expressive to everyone! He stares holes in the heads of Fred/Logan, doubles over laughing at Arthur/Robert, blushes over Angelina's teasing; it's a sanction of his care and attention divulged to each person in his sphere, one slice of the Oscar cake. Now take Lando? He's been treated to the whole Oscar Cake with a side of ice cream and a cherry on top. Like imagine if you had 10 glasses of water and you poured all of that water into one glass. Suddenly it’s overflowing and there’s water all over the table and the mess is apparent to everyone and the waiter is bringing over towels and someone's grandma just fucking slipped in the puddle and there's a baby crying and- right? right. Oscar’s love language that was distributed across an entire team of people now has nowhere to go but Lando. And not only is it love in respect to the game, it's I've known you years before you knew me, I fell asleep to your voice, watched you grow into the man you are today type love. Oscar is folded at the waist drowning Lando, staring at him with the force of 10x one man's ration of love and we are all god's honest witnesses! Yea no wonder he want that cookie so effing bad tf!!!!!

And it’s such a compelling dynamic because Oscar has been ready to transfer that quiet affection since the very beginning (had old pics of Lando on his phone up through his first year of F1 rightttt right) and since the start of it all, we just get front row seats to Lando reacting to this unconditional respect/love. WHICH IS EVEN GREATER FOR THE FREAKS AND THE WEIRDOS BC LANDO IS SUCH A WEIRDO AND HIS COMPLEXES TOWARDS OSCAR ARE SO COMPLICATED. Basically like. idk. I love when they beef bc Oscar is like I love u I love u I love u and landos like idgaf I’m cheating on u actually no I’m sorry come here I will give u silly nicknames reserved for only me to call u, but actually fuck u and ur talent I’m not spraying u w champange but also oh my god I’m a mess come be freaky w me about it,,,,, the put Lando Norris in a scenario versus his own mind agenda is great. (Bringing back the og tag to just say not ln4 hate, i just like to observe him like a bug in a jar and shake the jar hard bc he is a millionaire and my silly wabbit who I experiment on) anyways. Yea. Lando is complex. Oscar is cool bc he doesn’t care if he is cool and yet simultaneously he's so uncool bc having a crush on a guy for 8 years before being his mclaren arranged failhusband has never been easier nor sexier. OKAY. NO MORE. for now.

[orbleglorb]

tumblr in the blaseball universe, part 10

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

image descriptions: the first image is a thick black bar meant to separate posts. the second image is a thin gray bar meant to separate reblogs. they are used continuously throughout the post when appropriate. like right now

☎️ official-jessica-telephone 🔁

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what happens if the real JT wants this URL. it's a part of me now. who do i become if i have to give it up

🐟 offishal-jessica-telephone Follow

she'll have to krill you for it

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

WHO ARE YOU

102 notes

☕ eyesinthedark11

every day with salmon weather for the past few months, my dad has miraculously "found" fresh salmon for us to have for dinner. should i ask him where he's getting it from

#personal #i know the answer. i just need the verbal confirmation

0 notes

Whoops, looks like this post doesn't exist!

🐍 gamer--gorgon

shoutout to the guy (who i think might be in our shadows?) that goes fishing during every salmon game. you should see if you can get anything from the floods

#if he's a shadows guy it's extra funny because he's gotta come up from new jersey #all the shadows share an apartment there #charla said she thought she knew him but every time she tries to get into the stands to talk to him he just disappears lmfao #i get it king. i really do

41 notes

☎️ official-jessica-telephone

what do you MEAN they're rebooting supernatural???

35 notes

☕️ eyesinthedark11 🔁

☕️ eyesinthedark11

i understand that this is ostensibly a terrible thing to say but i truly do not think parker macmillan did anything wrong. if my mom was the coin i woulda done worse. i wouldn't have only been passively killing

🦆 peripheral-duck

everyone wants to act all gifted kid burn out fleabag mommy issues #coquette #girlblogger but the minute mommy decides murder is okay if it gets her some money it's all "well why didn't PARKER do anything :/" you fake fucking bitches. bro got cursed to bring destruction in his wake and THEN cursed to wander everywhere. we're not going to question that??

☕️ eyesinthedark11

if the coin was my mom i would have burned the whole earth years ago. not even because of firewalker or anything i woulda just done that

#like you are looking at mommy issues supreme. you show some fucking respect #<- PREV #on one hand it feels really weird to say these things about a Real Guy who is possibly still alive #on the other hand. you fake bitches #if you've reblogged a fleabag quote i don't wanna hear shit from you #'maybe the fireballs didn't know what instability was' valid point! #but that does not mean they're not at fault. you know #idk why everyone expects parker to just. fix everything. #if he's in the vault then he's been 19 for like 50+ years. he suffers more than jesus

5 notes

🐶 catgirlfirefighter

it's somehow the league's best kept secret that mike townsend is deaf. people keep coming to me like, "idk how you're friends with the guy, he just ignored me, he's such a dick" bro he can't hear you. and also yeah he is a huge bitch

#right judgement wrong reason #mike if you're reading this. ily <3

112 notes

🦞 marketplace-shellfish

Hey has anyone heard from that guy who was making the "meatcute is not real and can't hurt me" affirmations recently? I can't tell if it's a bit or not but they haven't posted since.

#blaseball #san francisco #san francisco lovers #hopefully it's nothing and i'm just anxious lol

11 notes

[circle--of--confusion]

Seven Minutes in Hell

Summary: Your friendship with Copia began in the small conversations on tour as a stagehand. Over time, you developed a crush and since coming back from the tour, you haven't been able to spend any time with Copia. An offer to join him with the ghouls for an afternoon leads to a game of Spin the Bottle. This might finally give you an opportunity to be alone with him, even for a few minutes if the spins go your way.

Paring: [Papa] Copia x GN!Reader

Words: 2.4k

Tags: fluff, mutual pining, spin the bottle/seven minutes in heaven

Read on AO3

Masterlist

It was a random Saturday afternoon of relaxing with the ghouls that turned into a rambunctious Saturday evening with music, laughter, and stupid card games. Some of Copia’s ghouls, the man himself, and you were all piled on to the couches and random chairs that could be found as you chatted and decompressed after an exciting tour. Your job as a stagehand meant that every day, for the past several months, there was no such thing as “calm”. From city to city, you and the dedicated crew worked your asses off to put on great shows for all of the devoted fans of the Ghost Project.

In the chaos, though, you all found comradery. The bevy of inside jokes that were formed will live on in perpetuity in group chats and no one will ever look at a ham sandwich the same way again. If someone says “I’ll be there in five minutes!” everyone will burst into hysterical laughter and end it with a breathless “you had to be there.” for anyone who wasn’t there.

One connection you are particularly fond of is the friendship you found in Copia. The supportive thumbs up and “break a leg”s before he went on turned into brief chats as you all traveled to the next arena. You discovered that he was… adorable. In-between the pervy yet endearing persona he put on while performing, he would spout frantic words of encouragement to the crew as he rushed around to get ready. You found him peculiar, but in a charming way.

You’d end up talking on the bus after everyone fell asleep. Neither of you could sleep after getting too amped up from the show. It would start the same every time.

“Good show?” You’d ask, wondering about the crowd.

“Yes! Good crowd.” Copia would respond.

And then the topic would change to whatever random thing that was on either of your minds. It was like you had to begin with that; your own personal version of “How are you doing” ”Good. And you?”

Over the many sleepless nights, you two talked about everything. Music, movies, random trivia, old stories from your past, silly jokes that one can only come up with while being so tired they can’t sleep. You’d mentioned how Ghost got you to listen to more metal and Copia would give the occasional recommendation of a classic group or song to try. Eventually the tour bus would arrive at the next hotel and the conversation would have to end. You would have to part ways as everyone walked down the hall to their rooms.

You plucked up the courage one time to ask for his number; strictly platonic reasons of course. Copia grinned as you swapped numbers but you never saw because your head was looking down the entire time to hide a faint blush. Very soon afterwards you discovered he loves sending memes and gifs over text. He revealed that he has a folder on his phone of reaction photos to keep on standby when someone says something funny. Primo loves it, Secondo thinks he does it too much, and he thinks Sister Imperator doesn’t understand some of them but she humors him because Copia’s her son.

In that span of time, you developed a crush. It makes you recoil at the fact that you have one as a grown adult but that’s the only word to describe the feeling you get when Copia’s hand brushes past yours as you pass one another in the hall. One of the few highlights of your days on tour was when you get to see him to say “break a leg!” and he pretends to act like he doesn’t know the meaning. His dramatic gasp along with an eyebrow raise and hand clutching his chest cause you to giggle every time.

You’ve debated whether it’s a good idea to ask him out; waiting for him to do it might take forever and you don’t have that time.  The idea that he might not feel the same way holds you back. It’s very hard to figure out if Copia likes you romantically or if he’s just being nice.

Which brings you to your current setting. Copia was passing by you in the ministry and asked if you wanted to join him… with his ghouls for the day. It hasn’t been awful! But you haven’t actually had some time alone with him like before when you were touring. You’d jumped at the opportunity but now are regretting it as one of the ghouls are now suggesting you all play “Spin the Bottle” with the now empty glass soda bottle they drank from.

“You can just spin it for fun.” Phantom says to anyone who may not be in the mood for kissing.  

And so you play along, the bottle occasionally pointing towards you where you have a kiss planted to your cheek or forehead. It’s your third turn when the bottle spins around and the opening stops to point directly at Copia.

“Oh…” You say, voice sounding small.

Copia scoffs playfully. “Well don’t look so sad about it.”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that.” You stammer. “We’re just friends, right? You don’t have to kiss me or anything.” Just friends ugh.

He laughs through his nose and extends out his arm. “Give me your hand.”

You hold it out across the table for him. Copia holds your wrist in place while he leans down to press a soft, too gentle kiss to the inside of it over your veins. You almost don’t feel it but it’s there, black smudge and all on your skin after he lets go. You hope he didn’t feel the rush of blood through your body as your heartbeat picks up. You were prepared for him to kiss your knuckles not your wrist. That spot is a bit more… intimate.

“See? That wasn’t so awful?” He smiles as you nod your head slowly and a few of the ghouls look at each other in that moment. Copia once said they could communicate telepathically and you thought he was joking but he may have been on to something.  

Attempting to carry on, you look down. “Alright! So now it’s my turn.” Your hand holds the bottle; spinning around and around it goes until landing on… Copia. Oh no.

“Ah! I see you wanted more?” He teases and you cover your face to hide the blush that’s formed. You lean over, meeting him halfway. Copia raises his hand for you to reciprocate a kiss on his. He’s wearing the same leather gloves he always wears and you’ve now kissed the soft and smooth material that haunts your dreams. Routinely you wake up to what it might feel like to have his non-gloved hands on you; wondering how he might feel while holding your hips or grasping your hands while you lay together in the evenings, recounting your day.

The action feels sinful even in this friendly context and you hope the deep red blush on your face isn’t too notable in the low light of the room. He held out his hand to you as if you were a devoted member of the clergy bending down to kiss a metaphorical ring. You sense a slight tremble from Copia’s end as your lips touch the leather and it pleases you just slightly that he seems overcome by the situation as well.

Copia coughs, nodding a couple times to himself as he looks down at the bottle. You look up at him and wonder how warm his face is underneath the paint and silently curse the crisp white and black pigment.  “Okie-dokie.” He spins the bottle and it points over to Mountain. Copia snorts and places a small peck to the side of his helmet.

The next few rounds pass with everyone swapping short, friendly kisses. You giggled as the bottle landed on you again and you leaned to your left to place a small smooch to Dew’s helmet. When your spin stopped, it landed on Copia again. The ghouls around you erupted in knowing “Ooooohhhh”s  

You look around at their smirking faces. “What? What are you all smiling at?”

“That’s the third time between you two.” Phantom says.

Cumulus giggles. “You know what that means? Seven minutes in Hell.”

“You can’t be serious!” You exclaim. You look over at Copia and he watches you, almost carefully. “Also isn’t it Seven minutes in Heaven”

“Them’s the rules, sweet cheeks. And this is a satanic ministry. So, Hell.” The ghouls laugh and Cumulus shakes her head, gesturing for you and Copia to follow her. She finds a closet nearby and opens it. The space is decently sized for the two of you and luckily there’s a light switch so you won’t be in complete darkness as the door closes.

Copia and you reluctantly walk in and once the door closes, you two look at each other with awkward smiles; there’s only a handful of inches of space between you.  

“I think this is the only alone time we’ve had since the tour ended.” You chuckle.

He shakes his shoulders as he blows a laugh through his nose. “Very sorry about that. I’ve had a lot of things to attend to since returning.”

You nod, the closet returning to silence for a few seconds.

“Would you-“

“I was thinking-“

You two nervously laugh before returning to silence.

“Uh, you first.” Copia offers.

You blush under his close gaze. “I was thinking… once you get some free time, would you want to spend some of that together? Alone?” You look into his eyes. “I like the ghouls but I miss the one-on-one time we shared.”

Copia smiles, nodding. “Yes, I’ve missed it too”

“What were you going to say?”

He looks into you with certainty, taking a breath before speaking. “Would you want to have dinner with me? Alone.” Copia grins, looking down to find your hands to hold them in his. “I’m sorry for neglecting our friendship once we all returned to the ministry. I want to return to the familiarity of seeing you every day.”

You could faint, you really could. The soft hold of your hands in his give you enough strength to stay up. “Would this meal be as friends or… a date?”

“It would be a date, tesoro.” He smirks as you let out a surprised breath.

Your head nods before you can realize it’s moving. “I’d enjoy that.” You smile and he grins back, eyes crinkling at the edges as he looks down to you. “Could I ask you another something?”

Copia nods. “Anything.”

You swallow the anxiety in your throat and rise a shaky hand to his shoulder. “Could I give you my kiss now? As the rules state: the spinner has to kiss the spinnie.”

Copia chuckles. “Where were you thinking?”

“I was thinking of your lips.”

“And just how often do you think about my lips, tesoro?” He squeezes the hand he’s still holding and you squeak.

“I’m not sure you really want that answer.” You both laugh. “Is that ok?”

“I say it’s great that you think about my lips, actually. I’ve thought about yours as well. Many times, at night after we had to part ways to our own rooms.

You shake your head playfully. “So, can I kiss you now? I think our time is almost up.”

“Please do, don’t let me keep you in suspense.” Copia winks.

Your hand on his shoulder rises to hold his face, thumb rubbing softly a couple times over his cheek before leaning up towards him while you close your eyes. And then it happens. You place a soft kiss to his lips, lightly pressing into him. The small touch between the two of you feels electric already and the beating in both of your hearts pick up tempo. His hand holding yours squeezes it again as you lean back from him after ending the kiss and removing your palm from the side of his face.

Copia lets out a small sigh as he keeps his eyes closed. You watch him, noting the smile before he opens his eyes to look deep into yours. “Good?” You ask.

“Good.” He breathes. Copia leans forward, touching his forehead to yours. “Could we do it again?”

“Yes, please.”

He pulls back and takes both of his hands to cradle your face in them. You both smile towards each other and he leans in, pressing his lips to yours with more energy. You kiss back, moving your lips with his as you each pour more passion into each other. Occasionally he’d pull back to bite down on your lip and you’d hum. You hold Copia to you, wrapping your arms around his waist to feel more of his body leaning into yours. He walks you backwards, pushing you up to the wall so he can feel closer and closer until there isn’t any space between the two of you. Soft hums of pleasure fill the small space accompanying the sounds of your kissing.

The door opens and the voice of Phantom cuts through your lovey haze, causing Copia to retreat from your lips with a huff. He rolls his eyes, briefly looking down at your lips to assess the damage. They’re a bit puffy and traces of his lip paint are smudged on you. He smiles, satisfied that a part of him has been left behind on you. You smile back realizing the smudging around his mouth is because of what you just did together and how now you will have gray smudges around your lips.

“Time’s up, you two! You can go now.” Phantom says, chipper.

Copia turns with a great annoyance on his face and looks up to Phantom as if he would return the ghoul back to the pits for interrupting his moment. “No. You go, now.” He shoos the ghoul away and closes the closet door, locking it.

You laugh, feeling light and happy, looking at his determined face as he turns back to you. “Copia! What are you-?”

“Making up for lost time, tesoro. I want to be alone with you for just a bit longer here before I take you to my room.” Copia smirks, leaning back down to continue the passionate kiss he had to leave a moment ago. You gasp into his mouth, wrapping your arms around him again and hum delightedly into him. Don’t let me stop you you think to yourself.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)

[aquaticmercy]

The Future’s Overdue

Summary : A year after breaking up with Sam Wilson, he shows up at your doorstep.

Pairing : Cap!Sam Wilson x ex-avenger!reader (written with she/her in mind, but I don’t think there’s gendered language in this) 

Warnings/tags : mentions of violence and trauma, cursing. Mild alcohol consumption. Angst with a happy ending. 

Word count : 3.7K

Note : This fic was inspired by the song ‘Overcome’ by Nothing but Thieves. And of course the Brave New World trailer. That flight suit? Phew. When he sliced that truck in half?? Have mercy on me my god. I do have a couple of other requests for Sam but I have so many WIPs and series so please bear with me. Enjoy!

You first met Sam in Washington, when Steve realised Hydra was growing inside of S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was the day three helicarriers got shot out of the sky. 

You and Sam were initially just two operatives thrown in the mission together by coincidence— and a little persuasion on Steve Rogers' part. 

When the dust settled, you found a strange comfort in each other, a kind of trust that only comes from people who've survived the same battles together. It was a friendship— one you had with Steve and Nat, too.

But Sam was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was compassionate without being naive, funny without sacrificing his strength, and fiercely loyal without ever being overbearing. Everyone in your line of work fought with anger or a sense of duty— and Sam did, too. But he also fought with his heart, with a passion and a clarity of purpose that earned an incredible amount of admiration from you. 

But it wasn’t until after Sokovia fell from the sky that you realised just how much he really meant to you. 

The battle against Ultron had been brutal, a mission that left you questioning everything you’d come to believe. 

You stood among the rubble, surrounded by your teammates, and yet you felt more alone than ever.

The realisation hit you: time was fleeting. You didn’t have forever, and you didn’t want to keep ignoring the one thing that had started to matter more than any mission you’d ever had.

So that night, you sought Sam out. The rest of the team had been decompressing, recovering, but you pulled Sam into a quiet spot away from the others, somewhere under the night sky, where the stars glimmered faintly against the smoke. You didn’t say much, just let the silence and the closeness speak for itself.

When he looked at you, something like affection flickered in his eyes, a hope that maybe he meant as much to you as you did to him. It was then that you closed the space between you and kissed him—gently, like he was made of glass.

In a way, he was. This life was fragile, and his was one you couldn’t bear to lose.

After that, you spent as much time together as you could manage. Between missions, you’d crave moments of normalcy. Walks in quiet parks, stolen weekend getaways, breakfasts cooked together in your shared apartment. 

These small, simple moments began to feel like home, like the life you’d never thought you could have. 

Then came the Sokovia accords. 

When you and Sam sided with Steve, you didn't realise how everything could go so wrong. 

Your world turned upside down again. You became a fugitive, a person without a country, constantly on the run, evading governments, ducking the scrutiny of former allies. Sam stayed by your side, fighting the same battle as you.

Despite the danger, despite the sacrifices, the exile only strengthened your relationship. He was your safe haven, the one person you trusted wholly. 

One night, as you sat together in some safe house with peeling wallpaper and torn furniture, you dared to voice the thought you’d been carrying for so long. 

"One day,” you said, almost hesitantly, “when we’re done running, when all of this is behind us… I want a real life, Sam. With you.”

He looked at you then, his smile one of equal parts sadness and hope. “Tell me more,” he murmured, smiling just a little. 

“I want to marry you,” you confessed, voice trembling. “I want a house. Somewhere no one can find us. I want a family, Sam.”

For a moment, he was silent, his thumb brushing along the back of your hand. “One day. When the world stops chasing us,” He pulled you close, his words a quiet promise against your ear. “I’ll give you all of that.”

For the first time in a long time, the future felt like something worth looking forward to. It felt like something you could actually touch, something just out of reach but waiting for you. 

His promise lingered: that once you were free, once you weren’t running anymore, you’d be able to build that life together.

But then came the Battle of Wakanda, and the life you had both fought so hard for vanished in an instant as you were both erased from existence, dusted away by Thanos’s snap. For five years, you were gone.

When you returned, everything had changed. The world was broken and scattered, When you looked at Sam, you saw it, too— the realisation that so much of everything was gone. How much of the world needed fixing.

And you knew your Sam. He would want to fix it.

You saw the responsibility that had been thrust upon him. You watched him take the shield, watched him step up in a way that was brave and selfless. Everything about this was so unmistakably Sam. Your Sam.

In that moment, you knew that the life you’d dreamed of, the one you’d whispered about in the dark, wasn’t possible— not when the world still needed him.

It broke you, knowing you had to leave, to walk away from the man you loved. But you both knew that your paths were diverging. You wanted peace, family, a quiet life that had no place in the shadow of Captain America’s legacy. And Sam, with Steve’s shield in his hands, couldn’t turn away from the fight. 

It happened on a quiet evening, back in the small apartment you shared. The shadows were long, stretching across the worn wood floors, as the last light of the day reached through the windows. 

Sam was sitting across from you, his hands folded on the table, and his face was set in an expression you’d come to recognize—the one he wore when he was carrying something too heavy to keep inside. You saw it in the slump of his shoulders, the way his usually loving gaze couldn’t quite meet yours. You reached out, caressing his arm.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Sam,” you said, voice wavering. “Are we okay?”

He looked up then, his eyes meeting yours, and the sorrow there was enough to make your chest tighten. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if… if I can give you the life you deserve.”

The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, until finally, you pulled your hand from his. “Then we have to let this go,” you said, voice cracking with finality. “I can’t keep waiting for a life that isn’t going to happen.”

The look in his eyes was almost unbearable—regret, pain, and love all tangled together, raw and unguarded. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you replied, your vision blurred

The first tear drawn came from him. “I’ll always love you,” he said, his voice a quiet, broken promise. 

You looked at him, feeling the truth of those words resonate in your lungs. You would always love him too, but love alone couldn’t bridge the gap between the lives you wanted. It was heartbreaking, knowing you’d finally found something so good, only to have it slip through your fingers.

You stood up, needing to move before you changed your mind, before you broke down completely. “Goodbye, Sam,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

“Goodbye,” he murmured, holding back everything he couldn’t say. He didn’t try to stop you, didn’t reach for you as you turned and walked toward the door. 

You both knew that if he did, you wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

–

In the weeks after the breakup, you tried to convince yourself it would get easier, that the pain would fade. But the truth was, every day only sharpened the ache. It was clear that your lives were leading in opposite directions now, that Sam was destined for something larger than either of you had once imagined. 

He had the shield, the responsibility, the weight of a legacy that he hadn’t chosen but that fit him as naturally as if it were always meant to be his. 

And you? Well, after retiring, you finally had the quiet, the simplicity of a life you’d always craved, but it felt hollow without him.

You still loved him, of course. 

That was the hardest part.

There was no switch to flip, no way to undo the love that had grown in the depths of your heart. And he loved you too— you knew that as surely as you knew that the sun would rise tomorrow, the kind of knowledge you felt deep in your bones. 

But you both recognized that clinging to each other, seeing each other, would only deepen the hurt. So you made the hardest choice, cutting contact to give yourselves space to move forward, even if it felt like cutting out a piece of your heart.

You would go through your days thinking about Sam, feeling his absence as a phantom weight by your side. Sometimes, you’d catch yourself reaching for your phone, feeling the urge to share a thought, a joke, a memory— only to remember he was gone from your life now.

It was a loneliness harsher than any pain you’d felt before, and you've been shot at and stabbed multiple times. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too— if he missed you as much as you missed him.

Months went by, and the world kept turning, but you could never fully escape him. And then one day, you saw him on the screen. It was in the news, footage of Sam at the Smithsonian, standing before the shield as he laid it down, offering it back. You watched in stunned silence as he walked away from the legacy Steve had entrusted to him. He looked so different from the man you’d known—tired, torn, and full of questions only he could answer. 

Still, you knew he’d only given up the shield, not the fight. There was still that fire in his eyes, that drive you knew he would never fully let go of. He was still your Sam, the man who couldn’t stop helping others even if it meant losing himself in the process.

Then came reports of his work with Bucky Barnes. You caught glimpses here and there: videos of Sam fighting, speeches to crowds, images of him standing strong and proud, still doing the work he believed in. Each clip, each mention of him in the newspapers you read was like reopening the wound, bittersweet in a way that only true love could be.

And then, one day, you saw him on the screen again—but this time, he was wearing the Captain America suit.

The shield sat on his back, the way it once had been with Steve.

His face was calm, resilient, and he carried himself with a confidence that you hadn’t seen in a long, long time. As he stood before a crowd, addressing the nation, his voice rang out strong and clear. He spoke of unity, of justice, of how much work still lay ahead.

There was something fiercely proud and unmoving in his stance, as if he had finally found a purpose that felt right, a cause he was willing to fight for as himself. 

The people around you could hardly believe it.

But you did. You always did.

As you watched him speak to the world, you felt your heart swell with pride. He finally stepped into a role he was born for, embracing everything that came with it— the good and the bad. You felt a deep, overwhelming admiration for him— the same one you had felt all those years ago. 

The man you love had found his calling. He had finally stepped into the legacy he’d once doubted. And though he was miles away, speaking to millions of people, it felt as if he was speaking to you. It felt as if he were telling you, Look, I made it. I found my place.

—

It had been over a year since you’d last seen Sam in person. But then, you heard a knock—a familiar rhythm, one you'd both come up with in those times of hiding, a signal you’d memorised to mean ‘it’s safe to open the door.’

Suddenly, all those buried memories resurfaced. You took a deep breath and walked up to the entrance, fingers trembling ever so slightly. 

When you opened the door, he was there. 

He stood tall, carrying an air of quiet confidence that you had missed.

“Hey,” he said softly, that deep warmth in his eyes settling on you like it always had. “I know you’re retired, but I… I need your help.” He hesitated, shifting his weight, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. “This mission… there’s something I just can't figure out. Tactical consulting, just advice, you know.”

Your heart gave a painful thud, torn between the part of you that had finally let yourself step back and the part that had always been drawn to Sam’s gravity. There was something in his eyes, in the way he looked at you—was it hope? Regret?

“Come on in,” you said, your voice surprisingly steady.

Once inside, you cleared space at your kitchen island, pulling out blueprints and maps from him and laying them between you. The small counter seemed even smaller with Sam standing across from you, leaning close as he unfurled more documents. The scent of his cedar aftershave filled your home in a way that felt so heartbreakingly familiar. You poured the both of you a glass of wine.

It didn't take long for you to settle into the rhythm. Soon, you were bouncing ideas back and forth, memories and laughs slipping through the cracks as you strategized, just like old times. You caught yourself chewing on the back of your pen—an old habit that Sam had always found adorable—as you debated where each exit and entrance might be. When it came time to relay the guard rotation, Sam scrunched his nose in that familiar way that always meant he was uncertain. You couldn’t help but smile, reminded of countless memories just like this one.

As the hours passed, you felt yourself relaxing, dropping your guard bit by bit. You found yourselves laughing over old missions, sharing stories of close calls and narrow escapes. When Sam’s hand brushed yours as he reached for a pen, there was a tension there that you couldn’t ignore, something that had always been effortless between you.

Then, as he raised his glass for another sip, his gaze landed on the roses on your counter— a fresh vase of red roses, bold and out of place in your otherwise grounded kitchen. He paused, frowning slightly.

“Red roses?” he asked, glancing back at you, a surprised smile lifting his lips. “You don’t like them. You always preferred pink ones.”

You felt a small pang of sadness, realising that after all this time, he remembered that small detail, one that even you’d almost forgotten. 

“I didn’t buy them,” you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. “A date brought them over. A couple of days ago.”

The words fell into the awkward silence between you. For a second, you saw the surprise flicker across his face. “You’re… dating again?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, well…” You gave a light laugh, trying to brush it off, “had to fill the void you left somehow.”

It was meant to be a joke, but the words cut deeper than you’d meant it to.

He looked down, fingers trailing the edge of his glass, lost in a thought he wasn’t ready to voice.

You wanted to break the tension, you had to. “What about you?” you asked, forcing a smile. “I mean, look at you. You’ve got to be dating, Sam. Come on. You’re still the most handsome man I know.”

But he shook his head, his expression solemn. “No,” he said, his gaze fixed on the wine swirling in his glass. “I guess I just haven’t moved on.”

The words struck you like a lightning strike, filling the room with a tension neither of you could ignore. For a moment, the breaths you took felt too thick, too charged. You watched him, studying his face, seeing a quiet pain etched into his expression as he finally looked up to meet your eyes.

He broke the long silence, his voice low. “Is he… good to you?”

You let out a shaky breath.  “He’s… he’s alright. We’ve only been on a couple of dates. It's not like we’re… exclusive or anything.” You paused, trying to find the words to explain. “He’s a nursery teacher. Sweet, good with kids.... But nothing serious.”

Sam nodded, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his lips. “Good with kids, huh?” his voice was filled with an ache that twisted in your chest. “Just like you always wanted.”

You felt a wave of frustration and sadness rise up. “Yeah,” you replied softly, almost to yourself, before you could stop. “But he’s not…”

The words caught in your throat, but Sam didn’t let you off easy. He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that took your breath away, “He’s not… what?”

“He’s not you, Sam,” you whispered, the words spilling out before you could take them back. And you didn’t want to.

Something broke in him— relief, pain, and longing all at once. Without a word, he reached across the counter, his fingers finding yours. He walked around the kitchen island, sitting on the stool next to yours. His skin was warm as he closed the distance between you. His hand moved up, cupping your face as his eyes traced over you, like he was taking in every detail, every piece of who you were now.

You were still you. But you had grown without him. You had found your peace, just like you always wanted.

He leaned in, and his lips brushed yours in a  trembling kiss.

The moment he felt you return it— the moment he felt the familiar force of your kiss, he deepened it. His hands slid into your hair, pulling you close, desperate to feel you, to make up for all the lost moments he had to go through without you.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your skin. 

The kiss had left both of you shaken to your core.

Sam’s hands were still on your face, his thumbs brushing along your cheeks, making sure you were real, and that this wasn't just one of his dreams about you. He searched your eyes, looking for something to reassure him this was more than a moment of weakness.

“We can do this,” he whispered, his voice raw, almost frantic. He believed now, he needed to make you believe, too. “Clint—Clint made it work, right? A family, a life— he did it. He’s raising kids and still comes back when we need him. We’ll talk to him. I’ll ask him, I’ll ask him anything, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

He swallowed, his breath shallow, his desperation pulling him closer to you. “If that’s not enough, if this— if me being Captain America is what’s in the way, then I’ll… I’ll give it up. Just say the word. I swear, I’ll give it all up if that’s what you need. None of this—none of it means a damn thing without you.”

The words hit you hard, more sincere than anything else you’d ever heard him say. You saw the same unwavering love in his eyes, but this time it came with a willingness to do anything, sacrifice anything, to make room for you in his life.

It terrified you because you knew he meant every single word. 

You closed your eyes, finally feeling the burn of tears that you barely managed to hold back. You reached up to hold his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline.

“No, Sam,” you said, your voice shaking but unbreakable in its resolve. “You’re not giving up the shield for me. I’ve seen you out there. I’ve watched you bring people together. And I… I can’t be the reason you walk away.”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. His breath came quicker. It was moments like this when you realised that he was human. Not a super soldier. Not enhanced. 

He was human with an unnatural resilience.

“But if this is the only way to have you—”

You can’t help but interrupt him, before he dug himself a fantasy so deep that he would struggle to get out of it. You closed the small gap between you, kissing him again. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, holding you like he never wanted to let go. You could feel the tremor in his hands, the way his breath hiccuped, so close to breaking. When you pulled away, you pressed your forehead to his, calming his silent pleas.

“Listen to me,” you whispered. “You are Captain America. That’s a part of you, and I would never forgive myself if I took that. But that doesn’t mean we have to give this up,” you added, willing him to understand. “I want to try again.”

He closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. For the first time in a year, he was letting himself hope again. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, filled with a conviction you hadn’t felt in years. “I want you back.”

The relief on his face, the gratitude, was like sunlight breaking through a storm. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and then another to your lips, softer, filled with a tenderness you had missed so damn much.

“I’m all in,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t care what it takes. We will make this work.”

As you nodded, he lifted you into his arms, spinning you around. For the first time in a year, your giggles filled your quiet kitchen. When he set you down, his gaze landed on the flowers once again.

“First on the agenda,” he said, smiling mischievously, “we’re getting rid of those damn red roses. I’ll get you pink ones tomorrow.”

You laughed through happy tears as he pulled you to the couch, the mission he had come to consult you for forgotten, even if only for tonight.

You watched him leave the blueprints behind to spend time with you, when he would’ve been obsessing over a year ago. This time, you felt a conviction that he was right— that it would work.

This time, he was willing to compromise. And so were you.

-end.

[annislittleshopofhorrors]

I’m not going to lie…

I was pleasantly surprised by how obvious they made it last night that they pay attention to the fandom chatter (or criticism) 😂.

1) arriving in the same car and letting people see them come out from the same side! Remember ghosted? And I guess Berlin but I didn’t bother to go looking for that arrival footage. The weird going around the side instead of just opening the door to the crowd…they fixed that last night!

2) matching outfits. Finally not one dressing in lime green and dark brown and the other wearing bright red, looking like they didn’t bother to check what the other was wearing. However, she’s shy but wore a dress that was showing 3x too much sideboob to a family movie? 🤔

3) holding hands and smiling this time for 5 seconds. Good improvement on the last 6 times where it was dead pan face while running through a park.

Now other areas that still need improvement….I mean, not going to give them more ideas.

But I do have to say, I’m continuously disappointed she keeps letting down the shy, private, and hates attention narrative. What kind of shy person who wants everyone to forget her keeps showing up to world premieres with chaperones wearing an outfit fit for 2016 era clubbing? In 50 degree weather ? Also…the clearly repeated outfit choices…

The fact that even I recognized the shoes and bag that she’s reused like three or four times this year alone for these events is both sad but also funny. Your BFF claims to be a fashionista himself and often gives the impression he loves judging on others. Yet he’s friends with you who continues to make fashion faux pas after fashion faux pas?? Either he’s setting you up to embarrass yourself or he’s just given up.

You will never be invited to the met gala. What happened to that next miumiu It girl????

It's still funny whenever they try to get rid of plot holes, they create new ones. 😂 But yeah, they took notes.

Oh and what about her bestie? She has so many brand deals. Couldn't she borrow anything from her. (Not the yellow dress again) Not even a nice purse?

[sandeewithtwoe]

Gonna ask this cuz I know you're a Fresh fan

Thoughts on Fresh x Nightmare? :))

I’ve actually thought about this not too long ago

A mutual of mine drew them kissing as a joke and we were both “oh haha crackship that’s so funny haha they would never work”. BUT THEN, later on, I actually thought about it like “shit this ship actually bangs”

Ok canonically speaking, they would not be in a loving relationship. With the fact that Nightmare can only feel hate and Fresh can only feel fear and anger, they would not show each other love one bit. At best, I think they would work together very rarely only because they don’t want to be on each other’s bad side.

But let’s ignore logic and have a little fun with it yeah? If they were together, what would keep them to stay in the relationship? How would they act towards each other?

For Nightmare, I think that’s kinda obvious: Fresh’s negative feelings would be a FEAST for him, especially when Fresh is having one of his existential crisis (he has a lot of them). And even if he doesn’t, Night can just eat the host’s feelings, since the host is still conscious while they’re being controlled by Fresh, therefore he can sense all of the fear from the body. Plus, Fresh’s presence is an eye sore to everyone around him. Whenever he appears everyone says “oh no, not him”, which is honestly great for Nightmare. Basically, Fresh is like a gourmet meal and a walking disco ball. Once Night is interested in him, maybe he’ll start to talk to him more, maybe even get to know him a little.

And for Fresh… well… I’m gonna be honest, I don’t have a lot of information about this side of him, BUT I do know that he likes bad boys (cough cough Greaser cough), so him having a crush on Nightmare would kinda make sense. Mostly, I think Fresh would ignore all his bad behaviour and be more enamoured by how powerful and fun Nightmare is. He’ll probably be nervous and shy at the beginning, but after that, he gets more comfortable, gives Night hugs and gets all up in his personal space, stuff like that.

Ah and let’s not forget how good they look together. Their aesthetics are polar opposite: Nightmare being all black and covered in tar, while Fresh is all colourful and energetic. But still, they both have tentacles coming out of their bodies and they’re both master manipulators in their own way. It’s awesome, I love it and I love them.

Sorry if this is way too long, but to be fair, you mentioned Fresh, therefore I have to go all out.

[nuninho2000]

what's your opinion to all weasleys?

Well , let's start with the parents:

Arthur: I like Arthur, i really enjoy his fascination with everything related to Muggles, it reminds of those kinds of scientists, explorers and collectors on whatever are things found in Nature and then takes home with observing and studying , he's a great role model father that is caring, understanding but can be put his kids in their place when enough is enough and his relationship with Harry and Hermione and the way he takes care and watches over then is really underrated

Molly : I like Molly too , she's the definition of what a realistic mother looks like , she's not a perfect mother but always is trying her best and what's her kids to shine and have success especially in school, sure she can be a nag sometimes with her overprotective side but she is the best mother than you could ask for , in some ways she reminds my own mom and the way she welcomed Harry and show he's part of the family is good

Bill : I like him , he's a very cool old brother that has a cool job and is that kind of brother that everyone loves and the brothers friends look up to , he's a good looking and stylish guy that is patient and helpful, i love his relationship with Fleur and i think are great pair

Charlie: he's the Weasley sibling that we have less showing but just like Bill we can see that people love him especially his teammates from Quidditch like Oliver Wood , his work with dragons always fascinated me because i love dragons and the thought of him working on dangerous job is really badass

Percy; unpopular opinion but i like Percy's character arc and appreciate his development from a snobbish person and is a student role model who is ambitious and wants more , his ambition got the better of him and act really bad during book 5 the way he spoke to his father and how he was ashamed of him , ignoring his mother Christmas present was out of line, to be honest I don't blame him that much for not trusting Harry because despite knowing him they don't get along but the main reason why Percy sided with the ministry was because of the promotion and his ambition got the better of him and when was finally reveal that Voldemort returned and Harry was right all along his pride didn't make go apologise to his family and he had it coming when his siblings ignored him and twins and Ginny throwing food at him but i was really he came around in the end and finally apologised, made amends and fought in the battle of Hogwarts side his family

Fred Weasley : smart person and was a talented wizard that was a great duo with twin brother George, his death was really sad not only because he died next with Percy when everything was alright between them and the fact he died with a smile is heartbreaking and fitting his character

George Weasley: I like him , i think in terms of personality i like him more than his brother Fred , he's a great mastermind and was the best Quidditch player among the twins, i love how protective he is with Harry especially in book 2 when Harry said he would do anything to get the golden snitch and even got mad at Oliver for it , along with Ginny consolidated Ron when he thought his rat was killed

I find it so relatable he gave his pass away brother's name to his son because my name is a tribute to my dead uncle that i didn't know but from the people that knew him said he was a wonderful person

Ron : he's my favourite Weasley character and one of the characters i like the most in the series and he's in my top 10 HP favourite characters, he's brave , funny, smart, passionate, loyal, lovely person and a character that i have a ton of respect for .

He's the best friend that any person likes to have and the best friend and company that someone like Harry and Hermione should have , without him the Golden Trio wouldn't be complete and we readers couldn't have a better person to show us how the Wizarding World works .

Ginny: the lovely girl who conquered the heart of our beloved protagonist and his soulmate.

What can i say about Ginny? The shy girl that wasn't exactly shy had a good growth throughout the series and showed how brave and reckless she could be by fighting against the possession of a memory of Tom Riddle with 11 years old and hang on until it became inevitable, fought against her own trauma, had many friends, was popular, become a Quidditch player which was dream considering that use to practice without her brothers consenting and notice but the peak was when her wishes and dreams became real when the love of her life and soulmate kiss her in front of many people and started dating, unfortunately and was necessary she understood when Harry broke up with her not because he stopped loving her but to protect her .

With Harry, Ron and Hermione haunting for Horcruxs she alongside Neville and Luna restarted the DA and fought against the Carrow and tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor and fought in the battle of Hogwarts .

After the battle she and Harry rapidly started dating again, got married and had 3 wonderful kids and she realised her dream of becoming a Quidditch player for 4 years and then started to write about sports after retirement.

I love the Weasley family, what's not like, right?

[chryza]

Can I fucking help you

I start all my posts and messages with “and” and “also” because thanks to ADHD I do not experience the linear progression of time and every thought leads into the next one it is an interconnected web of existence and you are all the mosquitos on which I feast

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Broke (2016): BBC Sherlock is a phenomenal piece of media and anything that seems like a flaw just hasn't been fully explored yet

Woke (2020): BBC Sherlock is an incredibly flawed series run by an egotistical writer, it never deserved the hype and is actively bad on so many fronts (especially representation)

Bespoke (2024): BBC Sherlock is flawed and bogged down by increasingly poor writing, which many fans refused to see while it was airing, leading to hugely misplaced expectations (particularly for the final series), AND it has the seeds of some compelling characterizations and portrayals, some genuinely solid performances, and touches--albeit imperfectly--on complexities that are still being discussed today (particularly as it relates to the relationship between Sherlock and John). The huge cultural impact of the show has created a massive pendulum effect in its public perception, leading to most people today remembering a caricature of the show (whether positive or negative) rather than appreciating its nuanced merits and failings...that being said Season 4 sucked

[milkbreadtoast]

looking back at the yjh webtoon screencaps i have saved and giggling... hes so cute... moe... my pookie ^___^ 🥰🥰 poor little meow meow woof woo- *eliminated where i stand*

also these poses are sooooo... 꺄아악🖤🫣🫣🫣🫣

[monachopism]

am i autistic or am i just paranoid. level: impossible

[todayisafridaynight]

would it be okay if u told me why u like aoki😭/gen😭😭😭😭BEEN TRYNA LIKE HIM FOR SO LONG I JUST CANTT but i love ur art so much so i still consume it otherwise lol

i liked tohru adachi in high school and tbh i think that alone is enough of an explanation for why i ended up liking aoki

[junonreactor]

just did all the party sidequests. that was really cute

[bonefall]

Same anon- wasnt trying to imply that with blossom either! Just wanted to say that it could've been read that way and could be triggering to some, and the fact that no one speaks up felt off, even if its against the code. I've never read the more recent books either, so by the way the posts were spaced it felt like the series goes Df battle > Tempest > Ashfur in the span of a few moons, meaning blossom went from one horrible event to another and was still feeling isolated and shameful. Sorry if anything came off as confrontational or mean!

As for the 'why dont they leave?' thing, I think we all default to how Ravenpaw actually DOES leave and we just apply the same logic. As humans we naturally draw connections, and if we see a situation where a whole clan turns on one cat, we ask why didn't they just do what Ravenpaw (or Dovewing iirc) did and decide they can't deal with this and it's better to move on. It's a pattern that we itch to see fulfilled: Tigerclaw turns everyone on Ravenpaw so he leaves, Dovewing gets her whole clan telling her to do better so she leaves, Blossomfall gets named as a traitor and repeatedly gets dishonor titles to remind her of all her faults- why do cat not leave???

But yeah, if Blossom got to heal, i retract my statement entirely. I just was going off the logic that she felt isolated/cut off and that being told she's better off invisible would just shove her further into that belief. I do wanna ask, do you know what the thing Blossom spoke up about that got her slapped with the title?

Ah, I see! Let me clear up the order of events so far;

ThunderClan's Tempest, shortly after the Great Battle, dealing with the Clan moving on. Contains some parts of the canonical Dovewing's Silence but mostly Bramblestar's Storm

AVOS, with Blossomfall joining the Kin and being rescued sometime towards the end. Still working out some kind of incident where her kits are either stolen, or have to be retrieved-- the sire is not known

Squirrelflight’s Horror, a book about how Bramblestar turns a tense political situation into an excuse to leverage his power to abuse his deputy after feeling slighted.

TBC, which is at least a year after AVOS, with all of Blossomfall's children now being young warriors and her life coming back into order

So Blossomfall is having a pretty long journey here! Her life has been rocky and she can be a really nasty person, but she was brought back into ThunderClan because she is still loved. There are people who really want to see her get better.

And as for when she gets Clearface'd, I'm torn on it either being the first sign and SUPER shocking because it was just the normal amount of Blossom-sass, OR it coming right after the death of Bristlefrost and she argued that

"Bristlefrost was a codebreaker but who cares! She was a warrior of ThunderClan! There's no way that StarClan--"

And then interrupted and quashed with the title.

So, first option, to demonstrate Bramblefake's new level of malice at the earliest possible point and use Bristlefrost's death as the "turning point" of the arc where cruelty becomes violence,

Or, as a direct response to Bristlefrost's death, and the moment where there begins to be suspicion, because Bramblestar is NOT this good at naming.